The morning of Izuku's first day at U.A. smelled of burnt toast and imminent victory. Inko had tried to make a special breakfast and, in her enthusiasm, had forgotten to watch the toaster. Now, as Izuku tied the laces of his striking red sneakers, she handed him a small notebook and a pen with the solemn air of a soldier about to receive her battle orders.
"Your mission for today, should you choose to accept it," Izuku said, his tone like a playful drill sergeant's as he scribbled on the first page. "Phase one: thirty minutes of focused meditation. No thinking about the grocery list. Phase two: thirty minutes with the marbles. Today, I want you to move the green one with yellow streaks, and only that one. Phase three: ten minutes of concentration on the feather. I don't care if it doesn't move, I want you to feel the 'push'."
He handed the notebook back. "And I want a full report when I call you at lunchtime. Not one marble less, understood?"
Inko took the notebook, rolling her eyes with a smile that couldn't quite hide her pride. She adjusted his slightly crooked tie and handed him an expertly wrapped bento box.
"Yes, yes, my little tyrant. Understood. Now go, or you'll be late for your first day of tyrannizing others. I hope your classmates are prepared for your training regimens."
"Only the ones with potential," he retorted, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. The gesture was new, born from their recent dynamic, but it felt incredibly natural.
"See you!" he shouted, heading out the door.
"Don't talk to strangers!" she called after him from inside.
"I'm going to a school full of strangers! That's the whole point!"
He heard his mother's laugh as the door clicked shut. Izuku smiled. The day was off to a good start.
The day stopped being good exactly twelve minutes later. The U.A. main building wasn't just big. It was an architectural monstrosity, a labyrinth of glass and steel apparently designed by a sadist with a love for identical hallways.
"Okay, this can't be that hard," Izuku muttered to himself, looking for the fifth time at a wall map that seemed more complex than the human genome. "West wing, third floor, classroom 1-A. Simple."
He took what he thought was the west wing hallway and started walking. Every door he passed was gigantic, at least four meters high.
Crap. Why are all the doors so huge? he thought, his initial confidence evaporating with every step. Are all the teachers Mt. Lady or something? I wish… No, focus. You have to find the classroom. It would be the height of irony: getting into the best hero academy only to be expelled on the first day for not finding your seat.
He went up a flight of stairs to the third floor. He looked both ways. Two identical hallways stretched into infinity. He scratched his head, feeling a drop of cold sweat trickle down his neck. He pulled out his phone to check a digital map, but there was no signal in the depths of the building.
"Fantastic. They build a bomb-proof complex, but they can't install a couple of Wi-Fi repeaters."
He chose the right hallway, his logic based on nothing more than sheer desperation. He was walking with his head down, trying to decipher his own footprints to see if he'd been this way before, when he turned a corner sharply.
The impact was a muffled "Oof!" He'd run straight into someone, and the air filled with the sound of books and binders hitting the linoleum floor.
"Oh, I'm so sorry! That was so clumsy of me! Sorry, sorry!" Izuku said, instinctively crouching down to start picking up the mess.
"Don't worry, it was my fault for reading while walking. My attention was elsewhere."
The voice was calm, measured, and surprisingly serene for someone who had just been plowed into. Izuku looked up from the "Applied Physics of Quirks" textbook in his hand, and his eyes met hers.
He froze.
The girl kneeling in front of him had jet-black hair pulled into a spiky high ponytail that defied gravity. Her eyes, a stormy gray, regarded him with quiet intelligence. She was, objectively, one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen in his life.
And then his brain, his wonderful, simplistic brain, made the connection. The theory. The universal law.
Whoa. Hello, the thought was a flash. Okay, universe, message received. Big breasts, big heart. The theory holds up.
It wasn't just lust. It was… confirmation. It was a divine sign. The girl was beautiful, yes, but she also wore a pristine uniform and was picking up an advanced physics textbook as if it were a light novel.
Smart. And according to the Midoriya Unified Theory, a good person. I'm definitely asking her for directions.
The entire interaction lasted barely two seconds in his head.
"No, forgive me!" he said, offering her a friendly and genuine smile, his anxiety about being lost replaced by the certainty of his discovery. "I was completely lost. I'm Izuku Midoriya."
She accepted the stack of books he handed her, their fingers brushing for an instant. "Momo Yaoyorozu. A pleasure."
"Yaoyorozu-san," he tested the name. It sounded elegant. "By any chance, do you know where Class 1-A is? This place is a maze."
A small smile touched her lips. "What a coincidence. I'm headed there as well. And yes, the architecture can be… intimidating. It's this way."
They stood up. Izuku felt a wave of relief wash over him. "Great! So we're classmates! Thank goodness. I was already picturing myself wandering these halls until lunch. By the way, what's your Quirk? Mine is… well, a bit useless for navigation."
The question was so direct, so devoid of the usual introductory shyness, that it surprised her. But she answered with the same frankness.
"My Quirk is Creation," she explained as they began to walk. "I can create any non-living object from my fat cells, as long as I perfectly understand its molecular structure."
Izuku's eyes lit up, not with casual interest, but with a genuine, feverish awe. He stopped in his tracks.
"Wait, what? Any non-living object? As long as you understand the structure?" he repeated, his brain racing. "That's not a Quirk, it's a walking universal factory! The only limit is your knowledge! You can create advanced technology, rescue tools, complex weapons, antidotes if you know the chemical composition! The potential isn't just infinite, it's factorially infinite! That explains…!"
He cut himself off, realizing he'd been low-key shouting and had gotten carried away. Too late.
Momo had turned to him, a single, perfect eyebrow arched. There was a spark of amusement in her gray eyes. "Explains what, Midoriya-san?"
Izuku felt the blood rush to his cheeks. He'd dug himself into a hole. But honesty, he had discovered, was often the best, albeit most awkward, way out.
"Uh…" he stammered, before surrendering to the truth. "It explains why you'd need such a large lipid store. I mean… biologically speaking. For your large… energy reserves. To fuel Creation. I'm sorry, that just slipped out! It wasn't a personal comment! It was a purely scientific observation on the metabolic efficiency of your Quirk! I swear!"
He braced himself for the cringe, for a slap, or worse, for that look of glacial disdain some girls had perfected.
Instead, there was a moment of silence. Momo blinked. A light blush colored her cheeks, but her expression wasn't one of offense. It was… analytical. Her mind, evidently as sharp as he had surmised, was processing not the clumsiness of the delivery, but the logic behind it. She saw the correlation he had made, however blunt it was.
Finally, she regained a near-perfect composure, though the corner of her mouth threatened to curve upward.
"I see," she said, her voice as measured as ever. "The biological correlation you're referring to. It's a… direct analysis. But an accurate one. My lipid reserves are, in effect, the fuel for my Quirk. It requires a massive energy conversion. That's a… sharp observation, Midoriya-san. Though perhaps a bit… lacking a filter."
"Completely lacking a filter!" he corroborated, relieved. "I'm a disaster. I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize. Science requires no apologies," she resumed walking. "The classroom is at the end of this hall. We should hurry."
Izuku rushed to keep up, his heart still pounding, but now for a different reason. She wasn't just pretty, smart, and (according to his theory) a good person. She was also incredibly cool.
They walked the rest of the way in a strange, but not uncomfortable, silence. Momo Yaoyorozu was deeply intrigued. This boy, Izuku Midoriya, was a walking contradiction. His social awkwardness was apparent, but his analytical mind was incredibly fast. He had grasped the implications of her Quirk in seconds, something that took most people a long time. And his comment, while blunt to the point of rudeness, hadn't been malicious. It had been… exactly what he said: scientific. It was refreshing and baffling in equal parts.
They arrived at a gigantic door with "1-A" painted in bright red.
"This is it," Momo said.
Izuku nodded, about to thank her, but his eyes drifted to the interior of the already open classroom. His face lit up with a joy so pure and genuine it surprised Momo.
"Uraraka! We made it!"
Across the room, the round-faced girl he had saved in the exam turned. Her own face lit up when she saw him.
"Deku-kun! I was looking for you!"
Izuku walked into the classroom like he owned the place, leaving Momo for a moment in the doorway. He went over to Ochako Uraraka, and they bumped fists. It wasn't a formal greeting. It was the gesture of two partners, of two veterans who had been through a battle together. Their interaction was warm, easy, and brimming with a palpable mutual trust.
Momo watched this scene from the door, completely stunned.
Wait a minute, she thought, her analytical mind working at full speed. He already knows someone? And they're that close? He told me his Quirk was useless for navigation, and he got zero villain points in the exam… Uraraka-san mentioned it when we talked after the test. How does a boy with a supposedly useless Quirk radiate this much confidence and already have such a close ally?
The picture didn't add up. The lost, awkward boy from the hallway didn't square with the confident young man bumping fists with his classmate. The person who had made such a sharp analysis of my Quirk didn't seem like the type to have such a limited power.
It's… illogical, she concluded. This doesn't fit. I'm missing a variable.
Just then, a tall, bespectacled boy approached Izuku, gesturing rigidly. "You! The one with the unruly hair! I apologize! I misjudged you during the exam! Your ability to deduce the true purpose of the test was superior to my own! I am Tenya Iida!"
Before Izuku could respond, another voice, one that sounded like gravel and gunpowder, echoed through the room.
"Deku? What the hell are you doing here?"
Izuku tensed. Momo saw his posture shift; the relaxation was replaced by a tense guard. Katsuki Bakugo was standing by his desk, feet propped up on the tabletop, a look of murderous rage on his face.
"Don't get into U.A. just to be a damn extra in my way," Bakugo growled.
"Get your feet off the desk!" Iida intervened. "It's disrespectful to our upperclassmen and to those who manufactured this furniture!"
"Shut up, you damn four-eyed elite! What kind of stuck-up junior high did you come from that you give a crap about a desk?"
The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Momo watched, fascinated, as Izuku stood his ground against the explosive boy, not backing down an inch. There was no fear in his eyes, only a cold determination.
And just as the tension was about to snap, a new voice joined the cacophony. A listless, dragging voice that seemed to come from the floor.
"If you're just here to yell at each other, you can leave."
Everyone turned, confused. On the floor by the door was what looked like a giant yellow caterpillar. The creature writhed and slowly rose, revealing a tired-looking man with messy black hair and a three-day-old beard. He unzipped the sleeping bag and stood up, looking at the class with bloodshot eyes.
"It took you eight seconds to shut up. Time is a precious resource. You're not rational."
Momo froze. So did everyone else.
"I'm your homeroom teacher, Shota Aizawa," he said, with the same lack of enthusiasm. "Nice to meet you. Now, put these on. And meet me on the training field."
He held up a blue gym uniform. The chapter on introductions had abruptly ended. The real test, it seemed, was about to begin.