***
The next two weeks were a frenzy of preparation.
The shadow of the U.S.J. attack hung over them, but it was channeled into a determined drive to improve.
The class was closer, bound by shared trauma, but also more competitive.
Kaito threw himself into his training with a new purpose.
He needed to expand his arsenal and, more importantly, his body's ability to handle it.
He sought out his classmates, one by one, with a new level of professionalism.
"Sero, can I try your Tape? I want to understand the tensile strength and the feeling of creating it."
"Kaminari, I need to understand the sensation of electricity generation. Just a small spark."
"Jiro, your earphone jacks, how does the vibration emission feel?"
He wasn't just collecting Quirks; he was building a database.
He filled notebooks with observations: the physical sensation of activation, the specific muscle groups it strained, the duration he could maintain it, the most effective applications.
He spent hours with Midoriya, the two of them becoming a common sight in the library, surrounded by open notebooks.
They were a perfect match: Midoriya analyzed the Quirks of heroes, and Kaito analyzed the Quirks of everyone.
They theorized about synergy, limitations, and applications until their heads spun.
"Your Quirk is amazing, Sōma-kun," Midoriya mumbled, scribbling furiously. "The potential for adaptive response is nearly limitless! But the strain… it's a lot like mine in that way. You have to be careful not to overload your system."
"That's why I'm sticking to simpler, transformation-type Quirks for now," Kaito explained, tapping his own notes. "Kirishima's Hardening, Tsu's Frog, Ojiro's Tail. They're easier on my body. The emitter types… they're like trying to hold a live wire."
He also made a conscious effort to connect with the two people he'd fought alongside at the U.S.J.
He found Koda tending to a bird with a injured wing.
"Hey. You were brave back there. When it counted."
Koda had blushed a deep red but gave him a small, grateful smile.
He trained with Tsuyu, practicing mobility.
He'd copied her Frog quirk, and while he couldn't match her natural affinity for it, he learned to use the enhanced leg strength for powerful jumps and the tongue for basic grappling. It was incredibly versatile.
"Your body adapts quickly, ribbit," she observed as they practiced on an obstacle course. "You're already better than you were yesterday."
"It's like learning a new language," he said, landing beside her. "The more I practice, the more fluent I become."
His two primary slots became fluid. He'd often keep one "staple" Quirk, usually Hardening for its reliability, and use the other as a "rotating" slot, practicing with a new power every day to build up his tolerance and understanding.
The day before the Sports Festival, Class 1-A was buzzing with nervous energy.
Everyone was on edge, polishing their moves, discussing strategies.
At the end of the day, Aizawa stood before them, looking slightly less mummified but still heavily injured.
"The U.S.J. was a test you didn't ask for," he said, his voice raspy. "The Sports Festival is one you have. The world saw villains attack children. Now they need to see those children stand tall, unbroken, and ready to become heroes. This isn't just a competition. It's a statement. Don't hold back. Show them what you're made of."
As they filed out, Kaito felt a hand on his shoulder.
It was Iida, his expression uncharacteristically solemn.
"Sōma-kun," Iida said, his voice formal but sincere. "I wish you the best of luck tomorrow. After the U.S.J…. I understand the necessity of your actions during the entrance exam. There are no hard feelings."
Kaito was surprised.
"Thank you, Iida. That means a lot. Good luck to you too."
Iida gave a sharp nod and marched away. As Kaito turned to leave, he almost bumped into Bakugo, who was slouching against the doorframe.
"Tch. Copycat," Bakugo sneered, not even looking at him. "Don't get in my way tomorrow. I'm not gonna lose to some extra who needs to steal power to be relevant."
Kaito met his glare, his grey eyes calm. He remembered Aizawa's words.
'Curated. An arsenal.'
"It's not stealing, Bakugo," he said, his voice even. "It's learning. And tomorrow, I'm going to show everyone just how much I've learned."
He walked past the sputtering blonde, a newfound confidence in his step.
The self-doubt was still there, a quiet whisper, but it was now drowned out by the hum of potential.
His archive was ready. His body was stronger. His mind was sharp.
The U.S.J. had shown him his limits. The Sports Festival would be where he learned to break them.