Chapter 8: Between Heroes and Children
Emiya remained still for a few seconds. still holding the black bow, watching the nearly imperceptible line left by the arrow on the horizon. It had been a long time since he last fired with such freedom, it was almost refreshing.
Behind him, Hanta Sero was still staring at the sky, mouth agape.
"Hey... you sure that won't hit someone? That went way past the school grounds..."
Emiya wasn't worried about that; after all, he had set his sights beyond the city limits, towards the sea.
He turned his gaze toward his classmates and noticed the mix of surprise, excitement, and disbelief on everyone's faces. And among them, a faint smile tugging at the corner of Aizawa's mouth.
For some reason, that irritated him.
With a soft crackle, the bow dissolved into particles that scattered in the air. He started walking back toward the group, but he hadn't taken three steps before he was completely surrounded.
Iida, maintaining his impeccable posture, was the first to speak:
"Yaoyorozu-san! Your ability is extraordinary! I confess I was concerned by the delay in using it, but that shot was truly impressive!"
Uraraka appeared right beside him, her eyes shining:
"That was amazing! Seriously, I've never seen anything like it!"
Midoriya also tried to offer praise, still timid:
"I-I... thought it was... really powerful too..."
Emiya replied with his usual cold courtesy:
"Thank you. But it was nothing special."
He didn't have time to dwell on the thought, an arm landed heavily on his shoulder.
Emiya closed his eyes for a moment, resigned. He already knew he wasn't going to like this.
Beside him, a red-haired boy burst forth like an explosion of enthusiasm, with a wide grin and energy vibrating even in the way he breathed.
"Dude! That was so cool!" Kirishima practically glowed. "Seriously, I've never seen a shot like that! That was completely insane!"
Energetic, loud, and overly friendly.
Exactly the kind of person Emiya preferred to avoid.
That excessive excitement, that way of taking up space without asking reminded him of someone in particular. A certain blue-haired man, insolent, mocking, and equally loud.
The difference was that, unlike that damn spearman, Kirishima was just a kid.
So Emiya just took a deep breath... and swallowed the impulse of dislike before it could slip out.
And then replied with restraint:
"It's not that big a deal."
Kaminari, however, cut in:
"How is it not?! You conjured a bow out of THIN AIR and fired an arrow faster than sound! That's like... pro-level stuff, man!"
Emiya blinked, slightly surprised by his own thought. He hadn't even realized how absurd that must have looked to the others. Firing a supersonic arrow... for him it was normal, automatic. But in that world, it surpassed any expected standard for a mere high school student.
That world was beginning to blur the lines between absurdity and normality in his mind.
From a distance, Momo watched everything. Her face held a mix hard to decipher.
Pride. Sadness. Envy. Relief.
She was genuinely happy to see him take her words seriously—but watching her brother draw so much attention so quickly left a strange pang in her chest.
Ashido, ever smiling, slid up to her side with curious brightness in her eyes.
"Hey, Momo, right? You and Yaoyorozu-san are related, aren't you?"
"Yes." Momo replied with her usual politeness.
"Wow! So can you make weapons like that too? Like... bows, supersonic arrows... all that?"
Momo froze for a moment. The question hit right where she least wanted to look.
"My Quirk works differently," she said finally, trying to keep her voice steady, though tension leaked through the edges.
But before she could continue, an aggressive shout cut through the air.
"That shot wasn't ANYTHING SPECIAL, you EXTRAAA!"
Bakugou was walking toward Emiya, each step a threat, his arrogant smile as flammable as his hands.
At the same time, everyone turned their attention to the hot-tempered boy.
On one hand, everyone viewed the situation with apprehension. However, they couldn't help but wonder:
Is it only possible for him to communicate by shouting?
Emiya didn't even bother to look at him. He just brought a finger to his ear and cleaned it with exaggeration.
"Anyone else hearing an annoying noise?"
The group stifled their laughter.
Bakugou, on the other hand, exploded.
Literally.
Sparks crackled in his palms as he marched, furious, toward Emiya.
For a moment, Emiya considered making an exception: he hated hurting kids... but Bakugou might be a special case.
But Midoriya stepped between them before anything worse could happen.
"Ka-Kacchan! Stop it! Don't start a fight here!"
Bakugou froze.
For a moment, he hunched over, muttering something inaudible through his teeth. Midoriya watched him, undecided, torn between trying to talk or simply turning his back and running the other way.
Then Bakugou suddenly lifted his face. His eyes, red with rage, seemed ready to ignite the air around him.
"You had a Quirk all this time... and you lied to me for YEARS?"
The explosion that followed wasn't of light or sparks, but of pure intent.
"WHAT WAS THAT, DEKU?! EXPLAIN YOURSELF RIGHT NOW!"
He lunged in a leap, teeth clenched, ready to yank out answers by force.
But he didn't get far.
White bandages shot through the air like serpents, coiling around him before he could even touch the ground.
Emiya blinked, recognizing the technique. Of course. Aizawa's ability. One of the most dangerous in that world—and one of the few capable of taking him down when they first faced off.
Aizawa walked toward the group, his hair floating, eyes red and tired.
"That's enough," he said dryly. "Get in line. Now."
Bakugou shuffled away, huffing, defeated and humiliated.
...
A few minutes later, all the tests had come to an end. The open area had fallen silent—a tense, heavy, almost palpable silence. The students waited for the results as Aizawa finalized the rankings on his tablet, each second stretching like torture.
Midoriya trembled. Not from fear of Bakugou—that scare had already been swallowed by the day's chaos. Now what consumed him was something else, much worse. Certainty.
He breathed quickly, staring fixedly at the ground, as if he might find a miracle buried there in the dust. But he knew. He knew from the start. He knew when he broke his fingers, knew when he failed to control his own body, knew as he watched the others ace each test with ease.
He would be last. And with that... the promise of expulsion hung over his head like a suspended blade.
His whole body seemed about to collapse at any moment.
Emiya just watched, bored, curious to see how serious Aizawa was about his promise.
Aizawa sighed before speaking:
"I'll announce the results. And, before anything... the expulsion story was a lie."
"WHAAAT?!"
Midoriya, Iida, and Uraraka shouted in unison.
Momo, beside them, just crossed her arms.
"Obvious," she murmured.
Emiya arched an eyebrow. He truly had no reason to doubt the threat. Aizawa seemed perfectly capable of expelling someone on the first day. Or maybe he was just an extremely competent liar.
"I did it to motivate you," the teacher explained, projecting the rankings.
A holographic screen then projected itself before everyone, finally displaying the test results.
1st place: Momo Yaoyorozu.
The classmates applauded. Momo smiled, though her heart was torn between pride and dissatisfaction, she knew she could do more, but it was a start.
Emiya, at a distance, felt a brief warmth of happiness for her. He wanted to praise her... but he also knew Momo needed space. He didn't want to annoy her more than he already had unintentionally.
His own result appeared: 13th place.
Nothing special, but surprising considering his minimal effort and the fact that he only used his Quirk once.
Bakugou appeared in 3rd. Which... was acceptable. But for him, seeing two names above his was an intolerable humiliation. He scanned the list with his jaw locked tight.
And finally, the last name: 20th place: Izuku Midoriya.
He sighed, relieved not to be expelled, but the defeat stung deeply. He was behind everyone else, even though he'd given his all.
Still... there was room to grow. A lot of room. And this was only the beginning.
...
With the first day at U.A. over, Emiya walked toward the exit wishing for only one thing: silence. Peace. Solitude. Anything that didn't involve teenagers talking nonstop.
Unfortunately, that seemed to be the one request the world refused to grant.
To his left, Iida marched with almost military enthusiasm, his arms chopping the air as if he were about to take off.
To his right, Uraraka walked lightly, bouncing, smiling like someone who didn't know the weight of human anguish. She talked about the fitness test, about how fun it had been, about first impressions of their classmates.
Emiya wondered, irritated, how exactly that had happened.
He was just walking, and then Iida had appeared beside him and decided to follow him without permission. Soon after, Uraraka bumped into the two of them, introduced herself... and simply started walking along, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
The school exit was just a few meters away. But with those two holding him captive by the sound of their voices, it felt miles off.
He was one step away from opening his mouth to ask, quite bluntly, for them to stop following him... when something caught the trio's attention.
Midoriya walked ahead. Tense. Nervous. But, somehow, strangely calm. He was that walking contradiction only Midoriya could be.
Iida was the first to stride toward him, greeting him with his exaggerated formality, and immediately launched into a speech about the test, indignant, complaining about how Aizawa had "deceived the students in a completely irresponsible manner!"
Midoriya almost stumbled backward from the approach. He paled instantly.
But the panic didn't last. As soon as he saw Uraraka approaching, cheerful as ever, the pallor immediately turned into an intense blush.
She smiled, leaning slightly.
"Ah! I haven't properly introduced myself yet. I'm Ochako Uraraka! Nice to meet you!"
Midoriya froze. Blushed. Froze a bit more.
So simple, thought Emiya, watching the scene while shoving his hands in his pockets, exhausted by it all. Simple and yet dramatically tiresome.
Then Uraraka asked:
"So... Midoriya Deku is your name?"
"Deku?!" Midoriya repeated, stunned.
"Isn't that what that Bakugou guy called you earlier?" Uraraka asked.
He widened his eyes and shook his head rapidly.
"N-no! I mean... not exactly. 'Deku' is... it's an insult. Kacchan uses it to put me down."
Iida frowned, Emiya merely arched an eyebrow, understanding the situation.
But Uraraka smiled, that smile that seemed to completely ignore the world's malice.
"Really? But I think 'Deku' is a pretty cool name! It sounds... determined!"
Midoriya turned so red he looked about to explode. He took a deep breath. And, as if he'd been reprogrammed, introduced himself again:
"I-I... I'm Deku!"
Emiya, who had approached the group without anyone noticing, tossed out a dry comment:
"At least try to maintain a shred of dignity."
Midoriya jumped, finally noticing his presence.
"A-Ah! Y-Yaoyorozu-san! I didn't even see you...!"
"Keep your head down like that and you'll never see anything," Emiya replied with disinterest.
Midoriya shrank back, uncomfortable. And Emiya, impatient, continued:
"By the way... what was that with Bakugou earlier? Why did he just go off on you like that?"
Midoriya hesitated, nervous.
"We're childhood friends. We went to the same middle school. He... he's not a bad person, just... kinda angry. A bit."
"That doesn't explain the violent part," Emiya countered.
Midoriya's voice grew even more uncomfortable.
"It's just... my Quirk took a little longer to manifest. Kacchan thought I... hid it from him. He got really... upset."
Iida immediately got indignant, posture stiff.
"That is completely unacceptable! It's no justification! Bakugou's behavior was irresponsible and unsportsmanlike!"
Uraraka agreed, talking with her hands as she criticized Bakugou.
For Emiya, however, the situation seemed much simpler. Bakugou had a clear case of main character syndrome, that's all, he declared in his thoughts.
The "extra" in his life suddenly gained a powerful Quirk and started standing out. That shakes the ego of someone like Bakugou. Add that to his explosive temper and bam: aggressive behavior. Obvious. Like a child's equation.
Anyway, that's not your problem. He was sure U.A. had psychologists and therapists to handle time bombs like Bakugou.
Emiya then noticed Midoriya's finger, previously destroyed, now whole.
"Hmm. So you went to visit the perverted old lady in the infirmary."
Iida blinked, confused by the nickname, while Midoriya confirmed timidly.
Emiya seized the opportunity:
"Your Quirk seems strong, but your body clearly can't handle it. Is it always like this?"
Uraraka added, worried:
"In the entrance exam he practically broke his legs and arms! He fell from the sky, it was scary..."
Midoriya blushed again.
"It's just... I don't have much control yet. I only awakened it recently..."
Emiya frowned. From what he had researched quirks that harmed the user so aggressively were relatively rare in that world, and such late manifestations were also rare... there was something very specific about Midoriya's case. And the way he talked about it, there was something strange about it, not a lie, but an omission.
For a moment, Emiya remembered his conversation with Nezu
The absurd offer to be "All Might's successor" and receive some kind of "strength." But as always, he pushed the thought away.
It had nothing to do with him.
Uraraka, visibly concerned, asked:
"But isn't it dangerous if you keep using it and always end up hurt...?"
Midoriya answered with a timid, almost fragile determination:
"I don't have a choice. If I want to reach my goal... I have to keep trying."
Emiya let out an irritated sigh.
"If you keep hurting yourself like an idiot, you won't get anywhere. You'll just cause trouble for anyone around you."
Midoriya apologized immediately, clearly caught off guard by the sudden coldness of the words.
Uraraka and Iida exchanged a quick glance, both puzzled by the abrupt shift in Emiya's tone.
Iida was the first to intervene, straight as always:
"Even so, Yaoyorozu-san, during the exam you did the exact same thing saving Midoriya! Your legs were seriously injured!"
Emiya replied without hesitation:
"It's different. I just overdid the energy output. If I hadn't reached him, he could have been seriously hurt... or worse." He made a brief pause. "There was no other choice."
Iida adjusted his glasses, thoughtful.
"Viewed from that perspective... I admit there truly was no alternative."
Beside them, Uraraka fidgeted nervously, as if she wanted to say something but couldn't find the courage.
"Something wrong, Uraraka?" Iida asked, noticing the gesture.
She took a deep breath before speaking:
"Actually... during the test... I was ready to stop his fall with my Quirk. But... you were faster..."
Emiya blinked, genuinely surprised. For a brief moment, his expression twisted as if recalculating something. Then, he let out a sigh and allowed a short, almost ironic smile to escape.
"So I jumped the gun."
"N-no!" Uraraka replied too quickly. "You couldn't have known! And... it was amazing, actually."
She and Iida started gesturing, trying to reinforce the comment, praising Emiya's action in a somewhat clumsy way.
Midoriya, sensing the general awkwardness forming in the air, cleared his throat lightly and tried to change the subject:
"Yaoyorozu-san..." Midoriya asked cautiously. "What did you mean by 'overdoing the energy'...?"
Emiya seemed to recompose immediately, his expression returning to its usual control.
"My ability isn't just creating things," he explained, without beating around the bush. "It can also reinforce my body. During the exam, I channeled too much energy into my legs... and they couldn't handle the overload."
Iida adjusted his glasses, visibly impressed.
"So your Quirk has multiple applications, both external and internal... that's extremely versatile."
"Wow..." Uraraka murmured, eyes shining. "That's incredible."
Midoriya, however, remained silent. His gaze down, overly attentive. As if that explanation had clicked some invisible piece into place in his mind.
The conversation continued for a few more minutes, drifting between comments about the day, the test, and the school, until they finally reached U.A.'s main gate.
There, the four of them parted ways, each heading their own way.
For Emiya, the first day had been... tolerable. Surprisingly less draining than he'd expected, though still far from pleasant. The thought of facing three more years of it, however, made his mood sink again.
He sighed, casting one last look at the school building.
This was only the beginning.
...
The first day of classes at U.A. didn't bring any major repercussions to the Yaoyorozu residence. The routine remained almost untouched, no discussions, no noteworthy incidents. Momo still kept a certain distance from Emiya, but no longer seemed to deliberately avoid him, which, considering their recent history, could be seen as considerable progress.
The next morning, Emiya headed to school carrying no positive expectations. After just one day at U.A., he'd already learned that when it came to that institution, and its eccentric faculty, absolutely anything could happen. Still, to his surprise, the day started... normal. Regular classes, set schedules, no absurd tests first thing in the morning.
That, naturally, didn't mean the classes themselves were normal.
Even basic subjects like math, Japanese, or history were taught by pro heroes. U.A. seemed overly intent on branding itself as a "superhero-themed school." Not just the teachers, but practically all the staff were heroes: janitors, receptionists, security, cooks.
The person in charge of the cafeteria, in particular, proudly announced that he prepared top-quality meals. To Emiya, however, the food was just... acceptable. Nothing more.
The result was an environment that constantly bordered on absurd. In English, Present Mic's exaggerated accent and aggressive energy turned every sentence into a small test of endurance. In math, a man dressed as if he'd just come from a comedy show explained algebra with total seriousness. Emiya watched it all with growing disbelief.
It was ridiculous.
He found himself wondering, more than once, if everyone there actually had any kind of teaching qualifications, or if U.A. simply believed being a hero automatically qualified someone to teach.
But while Emiya watched all this with growing irritation, the other students seemed completely oblivious to the absurdity. Their attention was focused on something else. Or rather—on someone.
"I AM HERE! Coming through the door like a normal person!"
For a moment, the room plunged into an almost unnatural silence. A full second that seemed to stretch on too long. It was curious that no one had screamed or leaped from their chairs in ecstasy—but the tension in the air betrayed the collective effort to contain themselves. Everyone was buzzing inside.
Even Emiya had to acknowledge the weight of that presence.
It was hard to believe that the greatest hero alive, still in his prime, simply... taught at a school. A regular employee, with a schedule and lesson plan. If he weren't seeing it with his own eyes, he'd probably dismiss the idea as nonsense.
The conversation he'd had with Nezu crossed his mind like a thorn. Emiya took a deep breath and shoved the thought away, searching for anything else to focus on.
He turned his attention to the man before him and stared at him for a moment that seemed too long.
"His hair is even stranger in person..." he thought, bewildered.
All Might stood before the class, imposing in his classic uniform, practically radiating energy. To him, these young people were rough diamonds, full of potential, still unshaped. Teaching Foundational Hero Studies, the subject that would mold aspiring heroes into the real deal, genuinely excited him. Perhaps even more than the students themselves.
Despite his initial nervousness, after all, he'd never been a teacher, All Might had spent days planning that first lesson. He was particularly eager to observe Midoriya in action. In front of the board, he wrote his name with an exaggerated flourish, almost as if autographing it, while preparing for the dramatic introduction speech he'd mentally rehearsed.
And then, in less than a second... something struck him.
All Might was a veteran. A man who'd faced bloodthirsty villains, experienced assassins, human monsters forged in hatred. Someone who'd stared death in the face so many times his instincts had become almost a sixth sense. He recognized danger before he even thought about it.
And, in that instant, a tiny thread, almost imperceptible, of bloodlust touched his perception.
Weak. Fleeting. But unmistakable.
Before he could rationalize it, his body reacted. All Might turned sharply, posture shifting into a combat stance, ready to face whatever it was.
But all he found... were kids. Confused students, some scared, others simply not understanding what had happened.
His eyes swept the room once, twice, three times. Nothing out of the ordinary. No visible threat. Maybe it was just his imagination. Or accumulated fatigue.
All Might took a deep breath, recomposed his posture, and flashed the widest smile he could sustain.
"Hahaha... sorry about that!" he improvised, voice brimming with enthusiasm. "Just a veteran hero reflex!"
In the end, his introduction ended up even more dramatic than he'd planned.
Then, clapping his hands together with force, the sound echoing through the room, he announced in a firm, excited voice the exercise he'd prepared for the class.
"Today, you will be doing... a battle test!"
In the back, Emiya watched it all in silence. Finally, a crazy exam, he thought, feeling a growing weariness at seeing normality wouldn't last. However, he wasn't really worried about the test. His mind was stuck on the previous moment.
For a reason he himself didn't fully understand, he'd decided to test All Might. Just a little. A minimal murderous intent, a whisper in the desert, directed at the man considered the pinnacle of power in that world.
He simply wanted to see how the man would compare to a Heroic Spirit. Even if only minimally, after all, that wouldn't reveal anything about his true strength.
And All Might reacted before his eyes could even follow.
Unexpected, thought Emiya. Not enough to gauge his real strength, but it said a lot about his reflexes and instincts. Still, All Might recovered quickly and ignored the incident, which, for now, seemed enough.
Emiya then tried to focus on the test explanation. A battle in pairs, apparently. He had zero desire to participate in yet another waste of time... But Momo's and Aizawa's words echoed in his mind.
On one hand, he didn't want to do it, and considered it all a huge waste of time. On the other hand, he recognized that both Momo and the others there had dedicated themselves a lot to being in that place, and that it wouldn't be fair to them to cause problems just because of his personal reasons.
So, he decided he'd do only the bare minimum.
But when All Might started talking about the special gear produced by U.A. per student request, something inside Emiya simply died.
And then the announcement finally came:
"Change your clothes. Suit up. From this moment on... you are officially heroes!"
Emiya realized his second day was about to become even more unbearably worse.
...
U.A., as always, followed its impeccable protocols. Within the first week, students received extensive forms demanding detailed descriptions of their Quirks, aesthetic preferences, technical needs, and any desired adjustments for their future hero costumes.
A standardized procedure. Bureaucratic. Meticulous. And, to Emiya, completely unnecessary.
He stared at the paper for long seconds, expression blank.
What a waste of time.
He understood the logic behind it, at least in theory. For most students, it made sense. For someone with his ability, however, it was redundant. He could create a suit from scratch, perfectly fitted to his body and combat needs, in a matter of moments. He didn't need partner companies, specialized designers, or experimental fabrics.
The only reason he was there, holding that pencil, was simple. It was mandatory. And if he didn't fill it out... someone would do it for him.
The image of Principal Nezu immediately sprang to mind. That hyperactive rodent, too creative for his own good.
Emiya imagined, with an involuntary shiver, the kind of costume he'd "create to help."
"No way..." he murmured, closing his eyes for a moment. "I am definitely not wearing anything that rat considers 'stylish.'"
Determined, he picked up the pencil and started filling out the form. Direct answers, objective, no room for creative interpretation. Precise measurements, clear functions, zero margin for exaggeration.
But he didn't stop there. He attached detailed blueprints. Technical specifications. The complete design of the costume he wanted produced.
In practice, it was an adaptation of the uniform he'd worn in life—or rather, when he was still answering calls as a Heroic Spirit.
When the costume finally arrived, the result wasn't perfect... but it was acceptable.
Predominantly black. Discreet lines. A functional look, without any unnecessary extravagance. A few gray details had been added for contrast subtle, almost imperceptible from a distance.
Nothing flashy. Nothing ridiculous.
The material was clearly inferior to what he was used to. Still, it offered enough resistance and flexibility for that environment.
Functional. And, above all, discreet.
He ran his hand over the fabric, assessing the stitching with a critical eye.
Missing were the red pieces of the old Holy Shroud.
Obviously they'd be missing. There was no need for them here. Still... he felt their absence. He liked the color red.
"Maybe a coat..." he thought, almost distractedly. "Or a trench coat..."
For a brief second, he let himself drift. Imagining future adjustments, variations, possibilities for improvement.
Then he blinked. And pushed it all away.
"Ridiculous..." he murmured to himself. "I'm dressing up to play in a child's game disguised as 'training.'"
With a tired sigh, he left the locker room and headed toward the training ground.
The sooner this was over, the better.
...
When he stepped onto the field, the first word that came to mind was simple and inevitable: "Colorful."
The contrast was brutal.
He, dressed entirely in black, walked among classmates who seemed to have dived headfirst into an industrial rainbow. Gaudy tones, exaggerated shapes, flashy accessories, everything screamed for attention.
In any other world, he'd have called them all costumed idiots.
But here they were just kids. Kids with big dreams, living in a society that treated extravagance as synonymous with heroism.
And, come to think of it... he didn't have much right to judge ridiculous costumes. Some Heroic Spirits he'd known made these teenagers look like models of sobriety and good taste.
Still, something about that scene surprised him.
There was purity there. Genuine optimism. A childlike brightness hard to ignore. Insecure. Immature... but hopeful.
And that, more than any flashy costume, had value.
Instinctively, Emiya let his gaze grow sharper. Assess, deduce, analyze, an old habit, almost automatic, etched into him like a survival reflex.
Iida Tenya. Obsessed with rules. Rigid. The type who volunteers to be class representative... and takes it very seriously.
Uraraka Ochako. A look designed not to intimidate.
Kind. Concerned about others. Still... practical. The outfit is more functional than it seems.
Bakugou Katsuki.
Emiya sighed. Unnecessary analysis. Wants to be seen. Wants to be feared. And probably likes it.
Asui Tsuyu.
Pragmatic. Mature beyond her years.
Kirishima Eijiro. Wants to look tough... but is too honest to maintain a false pose.
Tokoyami. Reserved. Values discipline and introspection.
Mineta. Emiya looked away almost immediately. ...No comment.
He kept observing, building mental profiles, assessing strength, weaknesses, temperaments. An automatic process, almost unconscious.
In the end, he let out a soft sigh.
Kids. Kids preparing to play hero.
And, strangely... that was comforting.
...
Emiya remained where he was, silently watching the jumble of colors around him. There was no hurry to mingle, nor any need. Still, someone ended up approaching.
Iida, impeccable as ever, advanced with firm steps, posture erect and his usual serious expression.
"Yaoyorozu-san!" he greeted, in his habitual formal tone, executing that exaggerated arm gesture. "Good morning."
Emiya responded with a simple nod.
It was still strange to admit, but he was starting to appreciate Iida's company. There was something predictable about him. Reassuring, even.
Iida studied Emiya's costume for a few moments with genuine attention.
"Your design is... elegant," he commented. "Minimalist, efficient. Suits you."
Emiya inclined his head slightly.
"Thanks. Yours is also..." he searched for the right word. "Impressive."
Deep down, a forgotten fragment of his childhood thought that was genuinely cool. Engines in the legs? Hard to deny the appeal.
A few meters away, Kirishima noticed Emiya's costume and waved enthusiastically.
"Dude! Love that kinda military vibe! Looks tough!"
Emiya blinked, surprised by the interpretation.
"Yeah, thanks."
Shortly after, Midoriya approached the small group, nervous as always, but smiling.
"H-hey, guys... I, uh... just wanted to say your costumes look really cool! Yaoyorozu-san, Iida-san."
Emiya turned to reply, but the words died before leaving his mouth.
He stared at Midoriya for long seconds.
"...Are you dressed as a…
Rabbit?"
Midoriya froze as if struck directly in the chest.
"R-r-rabbit?! N-no! I—I mean—it's just that I—!"
To Emiya's surprise, Iida let out a short, genuine laugh.
He almost arched an eyebrow. Didn't know Iida could laugh like that.
Midoriya, now completely lost trying to explain the costume, was saved by Uraraka's arrival.
"Guys!" she called, smiling. "Ahh, your costumes look so cool! Yaoyorozu-san, yours looks super practical! Yours too, Iida... and yours, Deku, looks really nice!"
Midoriya instantly went from confused to completely flushed.
Uraraka, as always, had no idea of the impact she caused.
Iida complimented her costume with enthusiasm and soon moved away, saying he needed to interact with other classmates.
Definitely more energetic, thought Emiya. Costumes really get these kids going...
Beside him, Midoriya remained stiff, embarrassed, while Uraraka tried to comment on her own costume, also blushing.
That's when a disturbing sound arose.
"Hehehe... tight clothes, huh?" Mineta's slithery voice cut through the air.
Emiya looked at him. It was the first time he'd heard that voice and, frankly, if it were up to him, it'd be the last.
Deliberately ignoring him, he turned his attention back to Uraraka, and then noticed something.
That's... way too tight.
Not just on her. On several of the girls. Costumes so form-fitting it was hard to believe anyone had approved them.
Not sure what's worse... them asking for that, or the companies agreeing.
But…
nothing, absolutely nothing, prepared him for what he saw next.
A pair of gloves... and boots... floating on their own.
"Ah..." he thought. "The invisible girl."
He closed his eyes for a second.
"God, I hope she's wearing an invisible costume."
There was no way to confirm.
That was enough to make him rub his temple, feeling his patience drain.
"This is already too much. But... nothing can be worse than thi—"
"Shirou-nii."
The familiar voice hit him.
A small relief arose immediately. Momo.
He turned with an almost grateful sigh... and the gratitude evaporated the instant his eyes registered her costume.
Emiya froze.
"...What..." he began, incredulous. "What are you wearing?"
Momo blinked, confused.
"Huh? My hero costume...?"
He looked again: the massive exposed area, the overly revealing design, the strategically placed openings.
"That's not a costume," he growled. "That's a critical design flaw. It's dangerous. It's impractical. That's—"
"Practical, yes!" Momo retorted, crossing her arms. "The opening is necessary for my Quirk! I need to expose skin to materialize objects!"
"But that much?!" Emiya insisted, visibly indignant. "Couldn't you make... I don't know, a version that doesn't look like you're going to a sketchy modeling contest?!"
"Nii-san!" Momo raised her voice, offended. "This design was made to maximize efficiency! There's nothing wrong with it!"
"There's everything wrong with it!" Emiya shot back. "We're at a school, not at—"
"You're overreacting!" she cut him off, her face already red with frustration.
The two fell silent for a few seconds. Him, boiling with indignation. Her, visibly furious.
Without reaching an agreement, Momo turned her face away.
"Tch. Whatever."
And she walked off, stepping firmly.
Emiya let out the air slowly, trying to maintain sanity.
Okay... maybe I'm really not prepared to deal with teenagers.
And the training hadn't even started.
Momo had just walked away, still huffing with irritation, when the atmosphere of the field seemed to shift suddenly, a familiar presence, immense, almost gravitational, took over the place.
And then: "STUDENTS! GET READY... FOR HERO TRAINING!"
All Might's voice exploded across the field like thunder. The students practically vibrated. Many got goosebumps. Some choked. Mineta fell on his butt.
Uraraka jumped, Iida snapped into a military stance instantly, and even Bakugou cracked a predatory grin.
Emiya... simply closed his eyes for a second.
"Finally. The head clown has arrived."
The number one hero advanced with firm, exaggerated steps, smile as bright as ever, wind dramatically blowing behind him, even though there was no wind.
It was All Might being All Might.
"Heroes use their costumes to channel their determination!" he announced, punching the air with a force that seemed capable of displacing air for miles. "And you are more than ready for that! Fine costumes, young ones!"
The whole group burst with pride and excitement.
Everyone... except Emiya.
The boy just kept his hands in his pockets, watching that vibrant figure speak with almost childish passion about heroism, grit, and determination.
And, despite everything... despite the ridiculous outfits, the loud students, the crazy tests, and the fact he was wearing a costume mimicking his old battle uniform to participate in a school game...
Emiya admitted, silently: "He really has presence..."
All Might then spread his arms dramatically.
"Today you will take your first real step toward the professional world! The first true test! A classic exercise that has become tradition at U.A.! And one I've adapted especially for you!"
Some students' hearts practically leaped out of their mouths.
Kirishima shouted: "This is SO awesome!"
Bakugou was already grinding his teeth, eager for a chance to blast someone.
Midoriya trembled like jelly.
All Might continued: "PREPARE YOURSELVES! TODAY WE WILL BE DOING... THE BATTLE TRAINING!"
An invisible fan seemed to be on just to flutter his cape.
The entire class buzzed.
Emiya didn't.
But the genuine excitement of his classmates was... oddly contagious. Especially the illuminated expression on Midoriya's face, trying to hide his nervousness while looking at All Might as if he were a living god.
All Might then raised his arm dramatically and pointed toward the training building.
"Follow me! Let's begin immediately!"
The students started walking, animated, some almost skipping with joy.
Emiya let out a long sigh.
"Let's just get this over with."
And the real training began.
...
All Might grabbed everyone's attention with his usual over-the-top presence, chest puffed, smile dazzling, and a voice that seemed to reverberate across the entire field.
"STUDENTS! TODAY WE HAVE A CLASSIC!"
He raised his index finger skyward, as if announcing a major cinematic release.
"THE HEROES VS. VILLAINS TEST! A realistic scenario, full of tension, strategy, and..." he made a dramatic spin, cape fluttering "ACTION!"
It was like watching someone narrate an 80s action movie to an audience that definitely hadn't asked for it.
While explaining the exercise's dynamics, one team defending a "bomb," the other trying to capture it
, Momo raised her hand, posture impeccable as always.
"All Might, excuse me," she said, polite. "I'd like to confirm the evaluation criteria. Will victory be determined by capturing the artifact or by fully neutralizing the villain team? And do these criteria carry equal weight?"
All Might pointed at her as if she'd just answered a million-dollar question.
"EXCELLENT QUESTION, YOUNG YAOYOROZU!" He blinked exaggeratedly. "Both conditions result in victory! However, performance will be evaluated on multiple factors! Teamwork, strategy, rationality, improvisation skills—"
He was already in the middle of a speech that would clearly last over a minute when another hand rose, rigid as a formal assembly request.
"Excuse me, All Might!" Iida said, serious. "For the villain team: is using the environment, like closing doors or creating false routes, permitted? Are there limitations on improvised barricades or structural blockages?"
All Might spun toward him as if on a theater stage.
"YOUNG IIDA! GREAT OBSERVATION!" He gave a thumbs-up, smiling. "Teams may use the building as they wish! As long as they don't destroy... uh... everything. Defensive strategies are highly recommended!"
Before he could continue, Bakugou clicked his tongue, visibly annoyed by the excessive formality.
"Yeah, but can I throw someone through a wall or not?"
For half a second, just half, All Might's expression froze. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple as he maintained his smile.
"A-as long as it's within reasonable limits, young Bakugou!"
"Great." Bakugou smiled in a way that seemed to demand the immediate evacuation of the building.
All Might stood still for a moment, as if reconsidering his life choices.
With the explanations over, he brought out the bag with numbered balls and started drawing pairs. Midoriya nearly dropped his when he picked it. Upon seeing his number matched Uraraka's, he seemed to relax for a brief second...
Until Bakugou pulled the opposing team's ball.
The electronic scoreboard displaying "Midoriya & Uraraka vs Bakugou & Iida" drained all color from Midoriya's face.
Iida seemed overly excited for someone cast as a villain. Bakugou, on the other hand, wore the expression of someone one step away from committing a federal crime.
Emiya watched the scene and felt an uncomfortable weight in his stomach. He couldn't ignore it. Even before his own pair was announced, he took two steps forward, toward All Might.
"Switch my pair," he said, direct. "With Midoriya or Uraraka. Either works."
The entire field fell silent.
"Midoriya shouldn't face Bakugou."
Bakugou cracked a smile loaded with dangerous adrenaline.
"Great! Let me take you out too! It'll be fun blowing you both up!"
Emiya didn't even look at him. He remained firm before All Might, who clearly hesitated.
"Young Yaoyorozu... changes at this point could compromise the test's balance—"
Midoriya, trembling, mustered enough courage to approach.
"It's okay... please, don't switch anyone..." his voice wavered, but he took a deep breath. "I... need to face him. At least once. I want to try."
Emiya stared at the boy. Midoriya seemed on the verge of collapse, but there was something solid in his gaze, a determination that violently contrasted with the evident fear.
Something inside Emiya tightened. Irritation. Concern. Perhaps something deeper he preferred not to analyze.
He sighed, averting his gaze.
"Fine. But don't do anything stupid. Don't overdo it."
Midoriya nodded quickly, even though he wasn't sure he could keep that promise.
All Might resumed the draw, and Emiya's pair was finally announced: Rikido Sato. The boy raised his hand with a simple smile, carrying a friendly energy that stood out from the rest of the class.
They greeted each other briefly. Emiya assessed Sato's costume, reinforced, compact, clearly made to withstand high physical force.
"Does your Quirk have to do with increased strength?" he asked neutrally.
Sato scratched the back of his head, laughing.
"Something like that. I'll explain better later. But... I'm glad to be paired with you. You seem really experienced."
Emiya gave a slight nod, approving silently. Normal. Pleasant. No dangerous eccentricities. That was already more than he could say for most.
When the first battle was about to start, everyone gathered before the external monitor. Normally Emiya would be indifferent, maybe even bored, but not this time.
His gaze remained fixed on the screen from the very first moment.
Midoriya looked tense, Uraraka beside him trying to project confidence. Inside the building, Iida struck dramatic villain poses. Bakugou charged toward the starting area with the expression of a predator unleashed.
Sato noticed Emiya's intent stare.
"You seem worried."
"...Yes. More than I should be."
The starting signal echoed, marking the beginning of the match.
And Emiya didn't look away from the screen, attentive, tense, prepared for the worst.
Because, for the first time since entering that school... he was genuinely apprehensive.
...
The moment All Might gives the starting signal weighs in the air. Midoriya and Uraraka advance through the corridors while Bakugou blasts forward like a shot, completely ignoring the idea of strategy. Emiya, watching from the monitors, sighs and crosses his arms.
Iida, on the other hand, exaggerates his villainous act with such theatrical conviction it draws a quiet, ironic comment from Emiya:
"He's taking this way too far... but I'll admit, he's having fun."
Bakugou finds Midoriya first. The hostility between them is so raw you can feel it even through the speakers. Bakugou fires a venomous comment about "finally being able to crush him without consequences," and Midoriya tries to argue, but is cut off by the violent explosion that ricochets off the narrow walls.
Emiya watches the image shake. He clenches his jaw.
"He's not holding back at all... this isn't an exercise, it's a grudge match."
Kirishima, beside him, immediately agrees and suggests All Might intervene. Emiya reinforces, more direct:
"Stop this. Now."
All Might doesn't move. He just watches the monitor with that smile trembling too much to be convincing. Says it's "part of the test," that "they need to face real challenges."
Emiya stares at the number one hero as if he'd heard blasphemy.
"This isn't a real challenge. This is you turning a blind eye, All Might."
The fight continues. Midoriya runs to try and lose Bakugou, but the blond is pure instinct and aggression. He hits Midoriya, sends sparks against the walls, and then pulls the gauntlet, the one that stores sweat and releases massive blasts.
Emiya takes a step forward, tense.
"If he fires that...!"
Bakugou yells he's going to "show the difference between them once and for all" and pulls the gauntlet's trigger. The flash fills half the screen. Midoriya is thrown like a leaf in the wind.
Kirishima complains loudly. Emiya practically demands:
"ENOUGH. All Might, stop this!"
The hero hesitates, hand raised... and then gives up. "Let's see how far they can go," he says, more to himself than to the students.
Emiya clenches his fist so hard his knuckles crack.
The battle goes on. Bakugou, irritated, tries to pin Midoriya against the walls, but Midoriya, panting, shaking, finds a tiny window of opportunity... and something different happens. His body doesn't shatter like before. He channels power into a single point, without destroying his arm, and strikes Bakugou with enough force to push him back.
The entire class holds its breath. Emiya straightens his posture without realizing it.
"He... controlled it? Even now?"
All Might also couldn't hide his shock. Midoriya took advantage of the opening and punched the ceiling, sending up a large amount of debris, clearing a path for Uraraka to reach the bomb. She touched the target, completing the mission... but Midoriya didn't celebrate. His body faltered. He seemed to lose control, fighting against the pain, half unconscious, half out of his mind.
Bakugou stood up. His teeth were clenched, his eyes burning, but not with the same fury as before: now it was almost desperation. He attacked again, too quickly, and hit Midoriya with a precise blow that threw him to the ground as if he had been run over.
All Might raises his voice, finally, ending the test and announcing the hero team's victory.
Bakugou didn't complain. He didn't yell.
He just stared at Midoriya with an impassive face, devoid of any emotion. No anger, no satisfaction, just a silence as heavy as burning iron.
Emiya watches him. Then turns his eyes to All Might, and the disapproval is so clear it could cut the air.
But when he looks back at the screen, his gaze changes, not because of Bakugou, but because of Midoriya's feat.
"That kid..." he murmurs. "What else are you hiding?"
...
Midoriya was rushed to the infirmary, his arm dangling like dead weight as Recovery Girl hurried over. The students watched with anxious eyes, breathing through their teeth, still smelling the scent of broken concrete in the air.
All Might, already in his muscular form starting to falter, raised his hands in a reassuring gesture.
"He'll be fine! Recovery Girl is the foremost expert in first aid! Now, now! Hahaha!"
The laugh convinced no one. But it convinced enough.
For everyone... except Emiya.
He watched the empty hallway where Midoriya had been taken and felt his stomach churn. Not from worry, but from anger.
That had crossed the line. Far beyond.
Even if that school trained kids to face criminals, that level of risk wasn't acceptable. Not when they were talking about fifteen-year-olds. Not when the teacher in charge had full power to stop the fight and simply chose... not to.
To Emiya, the scene was alarmingly familiar. Institutions born under the pretext of justice, with noble speeches, guided by the "greater good." How many had he seen over his abnormally long life? How many had he seen twist, slowly corrupt, turning ideals into justifications for sacrifices?
And how many of them had he himself had to eliminate, when there was no turning back?
He gritted his teeth, jaw tight.
He wouldn't act impulsively. Not yet. Aizawa, at least, seemed responsible. Someone who understands limits. And if there's anyone to trust, even a little... it's him. But if U.A. starts to stray from the path, if someone there puts those young people on the path to becoming soldiers instead of heroes... then he himself would go after the rat, or whoever was in charge of that school. And he would nip it all in the bud.
When tempers finally cooled, All Might gathered the students for post-battle commentary. Emiya remained silent, distant. He was physically present, but nothing being discussed caught his attention.
Nothing... except one thing.
Momo.
She spoke with confidence, analyzed movements, pointed out errors and strategies with such precision that for a moment even All Might seemed at a loss for words. Iida, on the other hand, practically glowed with satisfaction receiving praise for his exaggerated villain act.
The other matches continued throughout the day, none noteworthy. Simple. Predictable. The only exception was the boy called Todoroki, who won his battle in seconds, ice spreading like a deadly carpet, locking down his opponents' movement without effort.
Bakugou's mouth hung open for a moment. Something too rare not to notice.
Emiya crossed his arms, indifferent. It was an impressive power, sure, by this world's standards. But still... too familiar to truly surprise him.
The fights continued, one after another, until finally his name was announced.
And, by some cruel twist of fate, the worst possible pair awaited him.
Momo. And Mineta.
He rubbed his face, took a deep breath, trying to process his own bad luck.
Of all possible lineups... it had to be this one.
His relationship with Momo had already been deteriorating for a while, not from fights, but because he'd finally realized, too late, that his presence was hurting her. Stepping back had been the sensible choice. Letting things settle naturally. Now, however, they'd be placed face-to-face in combat.
And Momo would never back down.
And her partner... Mineta. He'd rather face an army than interact with that kid.
Sato, beside him, leaned in with concern.
"You... okay? You look kinda pale."
"I'm fine. Just... thinking." Emiya replied, trying not to vent his frustration on his partner. Sato was too kind for that, the kind of person who made it impossible to just turn your back and give up.
And besides, quitting now would have worse consequences. For him. For Sato. For Momo.
When All Might announced the final battle, the entire gym leaned forward slightly, as if anticipation pulled everyone at once.
Outside, All Might watched with enthusiasm.
"At last I'll see the power of the young man Aizawa and Nezu keep talking about in action!"
Among the students, bets and comments started immediately.
"I think he wins easily." Uraraka stated confidently, commenting something to Iida.
"I... don't know. Momo is a very difficult opponent." Iida adjusted his glasses, uncertain.
"Dude, after what he did with that bow?" Kaminari gestured animatedly. "The guy's amazing!"
"But in a closed environment the bow is useless." Ojiro beside him countered calmly. "And Momo is very skilled."
Jiro stepped closer, crossing her arms. "She got in on recommendation. And she's crazy smart. Don't underestimate her."
Ashido beside her widened her eyes. "Really? Yaoyorozu is amazing indeed..."
Tokoyami joined the group, gloomy as always. "And don't forget Sato. His physical power is great. He could decide the match."
"True!" Hagakure cheered. "He could turn things around easily!"
Tsuyu who was approaching tilted her head. "And... Mineta?"
Everyone stopped. Looked at each other.
"No." They said in unison, before simply ignoring the boy in the battle's calculation.
Further back, Shoji asked Todoroki what he thought. The boy with the unchanging expression only replied:
"I'm not sure."
But inside, Todoroki was watching intently. He wanted to see more of Emiya.
Bakugou stood apart, arms crossed, his hard stare fixed on the screen. He didn't blink. Didn't move. His breathing was heavy, uneven, loaded by what he'd just experienced and by what he'd witnessed of Todoroki's power.
He needed to see. He needed to confirm. He needed to know just how strong Emiya really was.
And at the center of this suffocating expectation, Emiya took a step forward, feeling the weight of all their gazes. And the even heavier weight of the past echoing inside him.
The fight was about to begin.
...
As soon as Emiya and Sato entered the building, the interior's silence contrasted with the lively chatter outside. The wide corridor, the smell of fresh paint, the overly white lights, none of it mattered. Emiya was quiet, too thoughtful, staring at the wall as if he could pierce it with pure focus.
Sato, beside him, took deep breaths and massaged his shoulders, like an athlete about to enter a championship.
"Okay... here we go... here we go..." He took a huge breath, one of those sighs so deep it seemed to inflate his entire chest, and then cracked an enthusiastic smile. "Hey, Yaoyorozu. Any plan?"
Emiya took a few seconds to answer. His mind was still stuck on everything he did NOT want to deal with in that fight. But he lifted his gaze and said:
"Sato. Watch the bomb. Don't leave its side, no matter what happens."
The boy's eyes widened. "You're going alone? You sure about that?"
"Yes." The answer was simple, blunt, but surprisingly firm.
Sato then smiled in that genuine way only he could. "Alright! I'll trust you. I'll guard the bomb. You can count on me!"
Sato's normality and simplicity always impressed Emiya. There was something reassuring about someone so transparent in an environment so full of egos and expectations. In a way, Sato kept rising in his estimation, one step at a time.
Emiya stopped before the floor's exit door. Took a deep breath.
Facing Momo... Having to deal with all this again... Honestly? It sucks.
He considered himself a perceptive man, moderately, at least. But when it came to women... he was practically blind. And when it came to a teenage girl... the situation became a labyrinth. He didn't want to hurt her. He didn't want to worsen what was already awkward between them.
But he couldn't keep running away. And he was sincerely tired of this situation.
After a few seconds of tense silence, All Might finally gave the signal:
"THE TEST... BEGINS!"
The sound echoed through the entire building.
Emiya then moved, advancing with calm, determined steps. He knew trying to avoid Momo wouldn't solve anything. So, if he had to pick a target... Mineta.
Of course it has to be him.
The mere idea of that perverted kid wandering freely near his sister already irritated him. Better to go after him.
...
Outside, the classmates watched intently.
"Eh? Yaoyorozu-san went alone?" Uraraka tilted her head, surprised.
Tokoyami replied in a somber tone: "He's likely confident. Seems like someone who fights better alone."
Jiro frowned. "You think he has a strategy...? Or is he just going on impulse?"
Iida raised a finger with conviction. "Impossible it's impulse! Considering it's Momo, it's obvious he's already prepared an elaborate plan! And certainly Momo has also prepared something against him!"
Kaminari blinked, confused: "Why would they have plans against each other?"
Iida, equally confused by his own question, answered: "Huh... because they're siblings. They know each other well... I think."
Kaminari's eyes widened. "oh right that makes sense"
Everyone fell silent for half a second... "WAIT, SIBLINGS?!" Half the group shouted simultaneously.
Iida blinked, lost. "Yes? You... didn't know?"
Jiro crossed her arms. "It was obvious. Same last name. Not a common name. You really hadn't noticed?"
Ashido raised her hand. "I knew they were related! But I thought they were cousins or something!"
"They don't even look alike!" Hagakure agreed.
Kirishima cracked an enthusiastic grin. "Either way... if it's a sibling duel, it just got ten times more exciting!"
All Might watched from the side, smile wide, even he seemed eager for the showdown.
Further back, Todoroki and Bakugou watched in absolute silence.
Todoroki observed, impassive, trying to decipher every micro-expression on the screen.
Bakugou... clenched his fists so tight his knuckles turned white.
…
After descending a few floors, Emiya finally found his opponent.
Momo was there. Standing in the center of the corridor as if she'd been waiting for hours. There were meters between them, yet the tension was palpable. Emiya swept the corridor with his eyes, looking for Mineta.
Nothing. At least that.
When he looked back at Momo, she was staring back. But, unlike usual, her gaze didn't have that solid confidence that always guided her. There was... hesitation.
The two stood in silence. The air felt heavier than normal.
Momo was the one who spoke first.
"You came down alone." She straightened her posture, but her voice was softer than usual. "As I expected."
Emiya arched an eyebrow. "Am I that predictable?"
"I understand how your mind works well enough."
He let out a small puff of laughter through his nose. You have no idea, he thought.
"Where's Mineta?" he asked.
"On his way to the bomb."
He frowned. "You trust that... purple midget that much?"
"No." she replied without hesitation. "But that's how it has to be. He wouldn't last two seconds against you. I... will hold you off as long as I can."
Her raw sincerity hit him like a punch to the gut. Momo was a realist. Painfully realistic. And that contrasted too much with the confident, firm image she always projected.
For a moment, Emiya considered retreating. He'd go back up, pretend to chase Mineta, any excuse would do.
But seeing her determination... turning his back now would be cowardice.
He sighed. And projected his twin blades.
The bluish light traced the newly created metal, reflecting on Momo's face.
She flinched. An involuntary reflex.
Emiya raised one of the blades, holding it inverted, indicating he'd use the hilt, not the edge. "Momo... just don't overdo it."
The world seemed to stop.
In less than a second, he moved. Vanished. Air displaced behind him. Reappeared behind her as if teleporting.
Fast. Precise. Cruel.
The blade's hilt coming in a strike that would knock her out without pain.
It was the gentlest way. The most efficient. He didn't want to humiliate her by fighting "for real." But he also couldn't go so easy she'd notice.
Only... He made the fatal mistake of underestimating her creativity.
Momo already had something in her hand. A flashbang.
"Shit."
The flare filled everything.
Emiya recoiled instinctively, shielding his eyes, sliding across the floor until he stopped at the corridor's end. Under normal conditions, he'd have already reacted, blades thrown, new weapons projected, quick advances.
But here... he just defended, waiting for his vision to return.
When he could finally see again, his gaze focused on the silhouette in the distance.
And there she was. Momo, standing with impeccable posture... Holding, to his complete and utter surprise, a semi-automatic pistol.
Outside:
"BUT WHAT THE—!?" Kaminari practically screamed.
"She materialized... a firearm!?" Tokoyami's eyes widened.
Even All Might lost his smile for an instant.
Inside the corridor, Emiya stared fixedly, expression completely neutral. Only his weary thought echoed in his mind:
"I told you not to overdo it."