The day had started like any other at U.A. High School.
Class 1-A was seated at their desks, buzzing with anticipation. All Might, in full muscular glory, had just burst into the room with his signature grin, cape flowing like a crimson banner.
"I AM HERE… walking through the door like a normal person!"
Even for students who'd seen him before, the excitement was contagious. Phones were out, whispers of awe floated in the air, and a few students even sat up straighter, hoping for acknowledgment.
But not Izuku.
He kept his eyes low, hands folded tightly on his desk. The weight of past words still pressed down on him like chains. You can't be a hero without a quirk. Those had been All Might's words… back then. Before the truth. Before chaos and magic and secrets had overtaken the life Izuku once thought he understood.
Beside him, Momo Yaoyorozu glanced sideways, noting his silence. Her expression was unreadable, but her presence was grounding. Always calm, always thoughtful. She didn't ask questions he wasn't ready to answer. Not aloud, anyway.
"Now then!" boomed All Might. "Today we begin combat fundamentals. A cornerstone of hero society!"
The class burst into cheers.
"All of you will pair off for sparring drills. I'll be watching, guiding, and grading."
As partners were selected and gear distributed, the students moved outside to the training field, the same one where, not long ago, Quirk Assessments had tested their nerves. The sun beat down hard. A few clouds drifted lazily above.
Izuku tightened his gloves, suppressing the flicker of golden sparks trying to rise in his fingers. Not now. Not here.
He wasn't afraid of losing control… exactly. But the surge that had overwhelmed him during the ball throw still haunted him—untamed, chaotic, and foreign even to him. Even the faintest pull from that well felt like leaning over a bottomless cliff.
POV Shift: All Might
Toshinori Yagi watched Midoriya from across the field, arms crossed.
There was something about the boy—still. Not just his unexpected performance during the first day, but the rawness in his posture, the way he held his shoulders like he was bracing for a storm. Midoriya had shown potential, no doubt. But there was something else, something strange.
A power without form. Energy without structure. Almost like…
He didn't finish the thought. Instead, he glanced at Aizawa who was observing silently from a nearby shaded area. They exchanged a brief look. Nothing was said, but both knew they were watching more closely now.
Students split into pairs and groups for sparring drills, supervised by All Might and a few assistants.
"Izuku," Momo called. "You're paired with me."
He blinked, then nodded gratefully. If there was anyone he could spar with safely, it was her.
Their fight began slowly—Momo using her battlefield analysis to keep distance, creating simple, non-lethal tools: a staff, a smoke pellet, a light shield. Izuku stuck to evasive moves, enhancing speed with small bursts of wind beneath his feet, hiding it with clever footwork. Nothing flashy. Nothing that would draw Aizawa's eyes again.
But then—
The sky darkened.
Just for a moment.
The clouds above them twisted unnaturally. It was barely noticeable unless you were watching closely… but Momo was. She paused mid-step, gaze locked upward.
"…Did you feel that?" she asked, voice low.
He had. Not in the air, but in his chest. A pull. Like a whisper in the back of his mind—soft, ancient, and impossible.
Then it started.
"Don't touch me, Icy-Hot!" Bakugo's snarl snapped across the field like a whip.
Todoroki, cool as ever, had barely raised a brow. "I wasn't touching you, Bakugo. I was showing Kaminari how to redirect heat signatures without damaging sensors."
"You think you're better than everyone just because of your fancy fire and ice?" Bakugo barked, stepping in, explosions already crackling from his palms.
Several students turned to watch, tension thickening.
"Stop it, man!" Kirishima called, stepping between them. "This isn't a competition!"
But Bakugo's fury was already flaring beyond reason. He lunged past Kirishima, palm sparking.
Todoroki's eyes narrowed.
A burst of ice exploded from the ground.
Bakugo's blast collided with it mid-air, steam and smoke enveloping the field. Screams rang out from startled classmates.
Iida tried to separate them with a burst of engine power, shouting, "This is reckless and unheroic behavior!"
Ashido and Jirou pulled others back.
Bakugo's second explosion shattered a wall of ice and scorched the earth beneath them. "You think I care?! I'll beat you into the dirt, half-and-half bastard!"
"Enough," Todoroki said coldly, "I won't let you endanger everyone else."
With clinical efficiency, he froze the ground beneath Bakugo's feet and raised a wall of frost behind him to contain the blast radius.
Bakugo countered by propelling himself into the air—like a missile.
And then—
All Might appeared between the dueling students in a flash of speed.
"That's enough!" he boomed, arms outstretched.
Steam and smoke still curled around the training ground as students slowly backed away.
Bakugo lowered his arms, huffing through clenched teeth, rage not yet spent.
Todoroki said nothing, but the frost on the ground glittered like glass.
Later that night
Izuku sat alone under a tree. The thoughts of the day, all coming together, especially his passed with All Might.
He breathed in, then out. Steady. Balanced.
The strange magical pressure hadn't returned. But something had changed today. He'd felt it. So had Momo.
A disturbance.
A breach in the wall.
A vanishing section of space—just long enough to let something in. Or out.
He didn't know what. Not yet.
But he knew this:
Something was coming.
And for the first time since stepping into U.A., he felt unsure.