Chapter 9: The Final Lesson, The First Legend
The final week before the U.A. exam was the quietest of my entire training. There were no more obstacle courses, no more beat-up training dummies, no more rubber balls. My body had learned the dance. I could flow from a roll into a Panda-Tiger strike and back into a defensive stance without a single wasted thought. I felt strong. I felt ready. But every morning, a knot of pure, icy terror would form in my stomach, a knot that even my mom's Miso soup couldn't quite dissolve. I was ready to fight, but I had no idea what the real battle would even look like.
On the last day of training, the eve of the exam, I arrived at the dojo expecting one final, grueling physical test. Instead, Shifu was sitting calmly in the center of the room. Spread out on the floor before him was a massive, hand-drawn map of a city district, rendered in beautiful, detailed ink strokes on old parchment paper.
"Your physical training is complete, Po," he said, his voice echoing in the silent space. "You have the body of a warrior. But the U.A. exam is not a test of strength. It is a test of spirit. The final lesson is a test of the mind."
He gestured for me to kneel opposite him. He had small, carved wooden pieces representing different things. A large, monstrous-looking piece was the villain. Several smaller pieces were civilians. A tiny one was me.
"A villain with a gigantification Quirk is on a rampage in the city center," he began, placing the large piece in a square marked 'Central Plaza.' "His every step is causing buildings to shake. Here," he placed a few civilian pieces next to a drawn building, "a residential block is crumbling from the tremors, trapping people inside. And here," he slid another piece onto a bridge at the edge of the map, "a school bus is dangling precariously from the damaged structure." He then placed my tiny panda token at the entrance to the district. "You are the first hero on the scene. You have seconds to act. What do you do?"
The answer felt obvious. It was the answer I'd seen in every hero movie, in every news report. "I go fight the big villain!" I said with confidence. "If I take him down, the tremors stop, and everyone is saved."
Shifu looked at me, his expression not angry, but disappointed. "By the time you reached the villain and managed to subdue him—a task that is far from guaranteed—the apartment building would have collapsed, and the bus would have plunged into the river below. You would have won the fight, but lost the day."
His words hit me harder than any training dummy.
"A hero's first duty is not to defeat evil," he said, his voice low and serious. "It is to protect the innocent. That is the entire purpose of our strength. The U.A. exam understands this. They award points for disabling villains, yes. But they also award 'Rescue Points,' for demonstrating the spirit of a true hero. What is the point of stopping a storm, Po, if you let the village wash away?"
He reset the pieces. "Think. Re-evaluate. What is the most immediate threat to life?"
I stared at the map, my mind racing. The villain was the source, but the bus and the building were the immediate consequences. The people in the bus… they were in the most precarious position.
"I… I go to the bridge," I said, my voice hesitant. "I use my strength to secure the bus, to get the children out. It's the fastest way to save the most people from immediate danger."
"And the crumbling building?" Shifu pressed.
"I can't be in two places at once," I struggled. "After the bus, I'd rush to the building. I'd have to hope I was fast enough."
"A difficult choice," Shifu acknowledged. "But a choice made with the right intention. This is the mind of a hero. Not the simplest path, but the one that saves the most."
The rest of the afternoon was a whirlwind of these mental exercises. He presented scenario after scenario, each more complex than the last. A villain with a hostage. A chemical spill spreading towards a populated area. Two villains attacking at once in different locations. My initial answers were always direct, aggressive. And Shifu, patiently, would dismantle them, forcing me to see the bigger picture, to think about collateral damage, to prioritize the vulnerable. I learned that sometimes, the most heroic act wasn't a punch, but a wall—using my body to shield civilians from an explosion. Sometimes it was a rescue, not a fight.
Finally, he posed one last question. "A villain has stolen a dangerous chemical. He is escaping on foot. An All Might-level hero is in pursuit, but the chase is causing massive destruction. You are in a position to either intercept the villain yourself, or use your unique durability to shore up a collapsing overpass that is about to fall on a train full of people. You cannot do both."
I thought for a long moment. My instinct screamed to go after the villain, to be the one who lands the final blow. But I thought of the people on that train. All Might would catch the villain eventually. He was All Might. But no one else could hold up that overpass.
"I save the train," I said, my voice firm. "I trust the other heroes to do their part. My part is to protect those who cannot protect themselves."
A long silence filled the dojo. Shifu stared at the map, then he looked up at me, and a slow, proud smile spread across his face.
"Your training is complete," he said softly. "You are ready for the exam."
A wave of relief so powerful it almost knocked me over washed through me. I had done it. I had passed.
But the lesson wasn't over. Shifu stood up, his demeanor changing. The intensity of the teacher faded, replaced by a quiet, almost reverent calm.
"Come, Po," he said. "Walk with me."
He led me away from the training floor, to a part of the dojo I had never seen. We passed through a curtain into a small, quiet room that was like a museum of memories. Ancient scrolls were stacked neatly on wooden shelves. A single suit of ornate, black-lacquered samurai armor stood silent vigil in the corner. The walls were lined with faded ink paintings of other masters—a graceful crane, a fierce tiger, a wise-looking mantis.
"For months, you have trained your body," Shifu said, his voice a low murmur. "And today, you have proven your mind. But on the eve of your greatest challenge, you must understand your spirit."
He stopped in front of a painting of a great, serpentine dragon, its scales like jade, coiling through the clouds. "In the age before Quirks, when the world was both simpler and darker, the masters of Kung Fu were the protectors of the people. They believed that all living things possessed a life force, an inner energy. The ultimate goal of a master was to achieve perfect harmony between their physical form and this spiritual energy."
He turned to look at me, his eyes seeming to pierce right through to my soul. "The legends spoke of a title. A state of being that only one warrior in a generation could hope to achieve. The title of the Dragon Warrior."
I stared at him, my heart thumping. The words sounded like they were from one of my grandpa's old movies.
"The 'Dragon'," he continued, gesturing to the painting, "represents the body. A vessel of immense power, a force of nature, resilient and strong. And the 'Warrior' represents the spirit. An unbreakable will, a mind in perfect control, a heart dedicated to protecting others."
He took a step closer to me. "The Dragon Warrior is not someone who is chosen by magic, Po. They are someone who, through discipline and spirit, achieves perfect harmony between the two. They do not just wield power; they become power, perfectly controlled, and used only for good."
He paused, letting the weight of the legend settle over me.
"When I first saw you in that alley," he said, his voice soft with memory, "I saw a boy with the body of a Dragon. A body of immense resilience, of surprising power, a true, gentle force of nature. And I have spent these months training the spirit of the Warrior within you."
My throat felt tight. Me? A Dragon? I was just… Po.
"I am not telling you that you are the Dragon Warrior," he said quickly, as if reading my mind. "That is not a burden I would place on you. It is not a gift to be given. It is a summit to be climbed, a goal to strive for your entire life."
He looked at me, his expression full of a warmth and belief I had never seen before. "I am telling you this now, because tomorrow, you will stand before the gates of your dream. You will be surrounded by others with flashy, powerful Quirks. You will feel small. Your old doubts will return. And when they do, I want you to remember this legend. Remember that your Quirk is not just 'Panda Body.' It is the body of a Dragon. And your potential is limitless."
He led me to the very back of the room, to a single, beautifully carved wooden stand. It was empty.
"What is this for, Shifu?" I asked.
He placed a gentle paw on my shoulder. "It is for the story that has not yet been written," he said, a serene smile on his face.
I stood there, in the quiet heart of the dojo, a place of legends and memories, and looked at the empty stand. For the first time, I didn't feel like a clumsy panda who got lucky. I didn't feel like a boy with a useless Quirk. I felt like a beginning. The beginning of a story. And I was ready to write the first page.