Sorahiko Torino had never been a patient man.
In his hero days as Gran Torino, he was known for his speed, in movement, in decisions, in action. Get in, solve the problem, get out. No time for hesitation. No room for doubt.
But today, watching that door like it might sprout legs and run away, he found himself uncharacteristically still. Waiting. The clock on the wall ticked with maddening slowness.
UA's acceptance letters were due today.
Shinra had left for school that morning in his usual state, pretending not to be nervous while practically vibrating with anxiety. Sorahiko had told him to text the moment he heard anything. That was six hours ago.
Six. Hours.
He'd cleaned the apartment twice. Fixed that leaky faucet he'd been ignoring for months. Even baked taiyaki, though he burned the first batch when he thought he heard footsteps on the stairs.
It was ridiculous, really. At his age, with his experience, getting worked up over a school acceptance letter.
But this wasn't just any school, and Shinra wasn't just any student.
The boy had been through enough. Losing his parents. Growing up quirkless in a world that valued power above all else. Training day after day with nothing but determination and stubbornness to show for it.
And then, three months ago, everything changed.
Sorahiko remembered that night clearly. The commotion from Shinra's room. The electrical surge that knocked out power to half the building. Finding him standing there in the smoking remnants of his bedroom, his body crackling with blue lightning, looking as shocked as Sorahiko felt.
A quirk. After all this time.
He'd seen a lot in his long career, but he'd never seen anything quite like Shinra's "quirk." The way it manifested so suddenly and the level of power it contained.
Something wasn't right about it. They both knew it, though they'd never discussed it directly. Some secrets were better left unspoken, at least until the right moment.
It didn't help that there was no history of electrical quirks in their family lineage. Shinra's mother's side had primarily featured minor enhancement-type quirks, nothing remotely close to generating electricity, let alone transforming into it.
The quirk assessment doctors had been baffled by the sudden manifestation but chalked it up to a rare genetic anomaly. Sorahiko had nodded along with their explanations while keeping his suspicions to himself.
In those first few days, terrible possibilities had crossed his mind. Given his own history and knowledge of the underworld, Sorahiko had briefly considered whether All For One might have been involved, whether this was somehow a quirk bestowed rather than naturally manifested. But he'd quickly discarded that theory.
That bastard would never give up a power this formidable, especially not to the grandson of a hero who had opposed him. And there had been no suspicious encounters, no unexplained absences, nothing to suggest outside interference.
Besides, Sorahiko had reason to believe that All For One might no longer be a threat. That brutal battle years ago between the villain and Toshinori had nearly killed them both.
While Sorahiko had his doubts, monsters like that had a way of surviving, it was another reason to dismiss the possibility of his involvement in Shinra's situation.
No, whatever had happened to Shinra was something else entirely. Something perhaps even more inexplicable than villainous intervention.
Watching his grandson now, nervously examining his acceptance letter, Sorahiko couldn't help but see parallels to another young man he had once known. Toshinori Yagi had also been quirkless once, until a power had been bestowed upon him. One that changed not just his life but the course of hero society itself. The circumstances were different, of course.
One Quirk had been deliberately passed on, while Shinra's had appeared mysteriously. Yet the transformation from powerless to powerful, the sudden weight of possibility and responsibility... those were the same.
He wondered how Toshinori was doing now. Sorahiko knew about his injury, about limited appearances and shorter hero work hours. Perhaps he should reach out, if only to ensure the fool wasn't working himself to death.
For now, though, his priority was Shinra.
What mattered was that Shinra finally had what he'd always wanted: power. A chance. The opportunity to prove himself in a world that wrote him off.
But power brought scrutiny, and UA wasn't just any school. It was filled with the sharpest minds in hero education, Nezu, Aizawa, Recovery Girl. If there was something unusual about Shinra's abilities, they'd notice.
The question was: what would they do about it?
Sorahiko checked the clock again. 3:47 PM. School ended seventeen minutes ago. Even accounting for trains and walking time, the boy should be home soon.
His phone buzzed, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. A text from Shinra:
On my way home. Got a letter.
That was it. No indication of what the letter said. No hint of acceptance or rejection. The kid was either being dramatic or he hadn't opened it yet.
Knowing Shinra, it was probably both.
Sorahiko set his phone down and tried to occupy himself. There was leftover rice in the fridge that needed to be used. He could make onigiri for dinner. Something simple, in case they needed to go out later to either celebrate or... well, he wouldn't think about the alternative.
He was halfway through shaping the first rice ball when he heard the door open.
"Grandpa?" Shinra's voice called from the entryway. It betrayed nothing, no excitement, no disappointment.
"In the kitchen," Sorahiko replied, keeping his own voice equally neutral.
Shinra appeared in the doorway, school bag slung over one shoulder, an envelope clutched in his hand. His expression was carefully blank, but Sorahiko could see the tension in his shoulders, the slight crackle of electricity dancing across his fingertips, a nervous tell he hadn't quite mastered yet.
"So?" Sorahiko asked, nodding at the envelope. "Are you going to open it, or should we frame it unopened as modern art?"
Shinra rolled his eyes, a flicker of his usual sarcasm breaking through the tension. "I wanted to wait. Open it here."
The unspoken sentiment hung between them: with you. Something warm and unfamiliar stirred in Sorahiko's chest, but he pushed it aside. No time for sentimentality.
"Well? What are you waiting for? An engraved invitation?" He gestured impatiently with his rice-covered hands.
Shinra took a deep breath, then carefully broke the seal on the envelope. Inside was a letter and a small metallic disc.
The moment he pulled them out, the disc activated, projecting a hologram into their tiny kitchen. The image of Principal Nezu appeared, sitting at his desk with a cup of tea, his enigmatic smile directed at them.
"Greetings, Shinra Torino," the small, intelligent creature said politely. "I am Principal Nezu, the head of UA High School. I am pleased to personally inform you that you have been accepted into our hero course."
Shinra's eyes widened slightly, and Sorahiko felt a surge of pride he tried not to show.
"Your performance in both the written and practical examinations was quite impressive," Nezu continued, taking a sip from his teacup. "You scored in the top percentile on the written portion, demonstrating exceptional analytical abilities and ethical reasoning."
The hologram shifted to show footage from the practical exam, Shinra moving with lightning speed through the mock city, efficiently taking down robots with precise electrical strikes.
"But what truly distinguished your application," Nezu said, his voice taking on a more serious tone, "was your decision to risk your own success to save another examinee. This action earned you 70 rescue points, one of the highest rescue scores in UA history—in addition to your 43 villain points."
The footage changed to show Shinra confronting the zero-pointer, using his powers to free the trapped student and then bringing down the massive robot with a concentrated lightning strike.
Sorahiko's eyebrows rose. Seventy rescue points was exceptional. And the footage told him much more about what had happened during the exam than Shinra likely would have volunteered.
"Such selfless heroism is precisely what we seek to cultivate at UA," Nezu continued. "You will be placed in Class 1-A under the guidance of Pro Hero Eraserhead. I personally look forward to observing your development."
The principal provided details about the upcoming term, required materials, and orientation dates before concluding with UA's motto: "Go beyond. Plus Ultra."
As the projection faded, leaving the kitchen feeling oddly empty, neither Shinra nor Sorahiko spoke for a moment.
Then, finally, Shinra looked up at his grandfather, a grin spreading across his face.
"I got in," he said, as if he couldn't quite believe it himself.
"Was there ever any doubt?" Sorahiko replied gruffly, but he couldn't stop his own smile from forming. "Seventy rescue points, huh? What exactly did you do?"
Shinra's expression shifted, becoming slightly sheepish. "I, uh, may have taken down the zero-pointer to save someone."
Sorahiko stared at him. "The zero-pointer. The giant robot they use to test emergency response?"
Shinra nodded.
"You took it down."
Another nod.
"By yourself."
"It was going to crush this guy who was trapped," Shinra explained quickly. "I didn't really think about it. I just... reacted."
Just reacted. With enough power to take down a machine designed to intimidate professional hero applicants. That was... concerning. And impressive.
"Well," Sorahiko said, choosing his words carefully, "sounds like you made quite an impression."
"Is that bad?"
Sorahiko considered lying, telling him everything was fine. But they were past that point. The boy was about to enter UA. He needed to be prepared.
"It means you'll be watched," he told him honestly.
"From the teachers, you mean?"
"From everyone," Sorahiko corrected. "Teachers, students, possibly even those outside the school. Power draws eyes, Shinra. Some admiring, some envious, some dangerous."
Shinra absorbed this, his earlier elation tempered by the reality of what his achievement meant. "Should I have held back more?"
Sorahiko shook his head. "You saved someone. Never apologize for that." He put down the half-formed onigiri and wiped his hands on a towel.
Shinra nodded, processing this. Then his phone buzzed with an incoming message. He glanced at it, and his expression brightened immediately.
"Nejire got in too! Class 1-A, same as me!"
"Good," Sorahiko said, genuinely pleased. The Hado girl was good for Shinra, pushed him, challenged him, but also seemed to bring out a side of him Sorahiko rarely saw. A lighter side. "Anyone else you know?"
Shinra scrolled through his messages. "She says those two guys we met during the exam also got in. Mirio Togata is in Class 1-B, and Tamaki Amajiki is with us in 1-A."
Sorahiko nodded, filing away those names for future reference. Connections at UA would be important for Shinra, especially if questions about his quirk arose.
"So," he said, picking up the onigiri again, "this calls for a celebration. Something a bit better than these, I think."
Shinra looked surprised. "Really? You want to go out?"
"Don't sound so shocked," Sorahiko growled. "I'm capable of celebrating when the occasion warrants it."
"It's just... you never want to go out."
"Well, my grandson doesn't get into UA every day, does he?" Sorahiko replied, trying to sound irritated but probably failing. "Besides, we should invite Nejire and her family. It's only proper."
Shinra stared at him like he'd grown a second head. "Who are you and what have you done with my grandfather?"
Sorahiko flicked a bit of rice at him. "Very funny. Call the girl. See if they're free tonight."
As Shinra stepped out to make the call, Sorahiko found himself looking at the UA acceptance letter still on the table. The embossed logo, the formal language, the promises of a prestigious education and a heroic future.
It was everything the boy had wanted. Everything he'd worked for.
And yet, Sorahiko couldn't shake the uneasiness in his gut. The knowledge that Shinra's path forward would be complicated by whatever strange power now resided within him.
UA would challenge him in ways neither of them could predict. The faculty would have questions. His classmates would have expectations. And somewhere out there, villains were watching, waiting, plotting.
All Might might be the Symbol of Peace for now, but trouble was brewing. Sorahiko had been in this game too long not to feel it. The next generation of heroes would face challenges they couldn't even imagine.
Was Shinra ready? Was his power—whatever its true nature—enough to protect him from what was coming?
Sorahiko didn't know. But as he listened to Shinra's voice in the next room, excitedly making plans with Nejire, he made a silent promise.
Whatever came, the boy wouldn't face it alone.
He had his grandfather. He had Nejire. And soon, he'd have UA.