The grip strength test came next.
Izuku stepped forward, rolling his wrist once before wrapping his fingers around the device. It felt light in his hand—cheap plastic, reinforced metal springs, a digital sensor on top.
He gave it what could only be described as a polite squeeze.
CRACK.
The device split cleanly in half.
The screen flickered wildly before going dead, sparks popping once before fading into silence. The two broken pieces clattered to the ground at Izuku's feet.
The field went quiet.
Aizawa stared at the ruined machine, then at Izuku's hand.
"…Next," he said after a moment.
Side-to-side stepping followed.
The timer beeped.
Izuku moved.
To the watching students, it looked like he'd multiplied—afterimages flickering left and right so fast their eyes couldn't properly track him. His feet barely seemed to touch the ground, the rapid changes in direction whipping the dirt and turf into a swirling dust funnel around his legs.
A miniature dust tornado kicked up, forcing several students to shield their faces and squint.
When the buzzer sounded, Izuku stopped instantly. The dust settled. The counter froze—then lagged—then reset itself entirely.
Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose.
Then came the softball throw.
A hush fell over the class.
Izuku stepped into the chalk circle, rolling his shoulders once before flexing his fingers around the ball. He weighed it in his palm, then smirked slightly.
'Alright,' he thought. 'Let's see how far I can make it go.'
He drew his arm back.
Off to the side, Aizawa watched him closely—far more intently than before. His eyes scanned Izuku's posture, muscle tension, breathing. There was no visible Quirk activation, or hidden mechanics.
Nothing.
As Izuku began the throwing motion, Aizawa's eyes widened—and he activated his Quirk instantly, red energy flaring as his gaze locked onto Izuku.
Nothing changed. No suppression. No weakening. Izuku still threw.
His arm snapped forward in one smooth, devastating motion.
B O O M!
The shockwave detonated outward, rippling the air like water struck by a hammer. The ball shattered the sound barrier, leaving a deafening crack as it vanished straight into the sky—gone before anyone could even blink.
The clouds above split briefly from the pressure. Silence followed. The ball didn't arc back down.
It didn't even slow.
'That'll land in the sea… I think,' Izuku mused casually, turning back toward the class.
Behind him, mouths hung open.
Aizawa slowly released his Quirk, shoulders sagging just a fraction as he exhaled.
'…He really doesn't have a Quirk,' he thought grimly.
He glanced at the tablet, then turned it toward Izuku.
Instead of a number, the screen displayed:
「 VERY FAR 」
"Huh," Izuku said nonchalantly. "Cool."
He stepped out of the circle and walked back toward the others as if he hadn't just launched an object into another district.
For once, Katsuki's scowl faltered—just for half a second.
Mina's jaw dropped completely. "Okay… nope. That's not fair."
Kirishima stared, eyes shining.
"Man…" he muttered in awe. "…that's manly."
The test continued—but the atmosphere had changed.
Everyone knew it now.
Izuku Midoriya wasn't just strong.
He was something else entirely.
---
After the final test concluded, the class regrouped in a loose formation on the field.
Aizawa stood before them with his hands buried in his pockets, gaze drifting lazily from one student to the next. Despite his relaxed posture, his eyes missed nothing.
A few students whispered among themselves, their voices low but excited, while others kept sneaking glances toward Izuku—curiosity, disbelief, and quiet awe burning in their expressions.
Katsuki stood rigid a few steps away, arms crossed tightly over his chest. His jaw was clenched so hard it looked like his teeth might crack at any moment.
"Alright," Aizawa began, voice as dry and unenthusiastic as ever, "about that whole 'lowest score gets expelled' thing…"
Half the class froze.
Several students stiffened. A few swallowed hard.
"…it was a lie."
The tension snapped.
A wave of relief rolled through the group almost instantly. Shoulders sagged. Someone exhaled loudly. Mina let out a dramatic groan, hands flying to her head.
"Seriously?!" she complained. "You had us freaking out for nothing?"
Aizawa's eyes narrowed just slightly as he glanced her way. "If a little pressure is enough to rattle you," he said flatly, "then you won't last long here."
He shifted his weight.
"That was the point. To push you past your comfort zone. Heroes don't get warnings when things go wrong."
The murmuring died down.
Aizawa reached into his pocket and pulled out a small tablet, tapping the screen a few times before turning it outward.
"Here are your results," he said. "Study them. This is your starting point."
The rankings lit up clearly.
📊 📊 Final Rankings – Quirk
Apprehension Test
1️⃣ Izuku Midoriya
2️⃣ Momo Yaoyorozu
3️⃣ Shoto Todoroki
4️⃣ Katsuki Bakugo
5️⃣ Tenya Iida
6️⃣ Fumikage Tokoyami
7️⃣ Mezo Shoji
8️⃣ Mashirao Ojiro
9️⃣ Eijiro Kirishima
🔟 Ochaco Uraraka
1️⃣1️⃣ Denki Kaminari
1️⃣2️⃣ Koji Koda
1️⃣3️⃣ Rikido Sato
1️⃣4️⃣ Yuga Aoyama
1️⃣5️⃣ Tsuyu Asui
1️⃣6️⃣ Kyoka Jiro
1️⃣7️⃣ Mina Ashido
1️⃣8️⃣ Toru Hagakure
1️⃣9️⃣ Hanta Sero
2️⃣0️⃣ Minoru Mineta
A ripple of reactions followed.
Eyes immediately darted to the top of the list.
Whispers broke out again—quiet, stunned, disbelieving.
Izuku, meanwhile, stood with his hands in his pockets, posture relaxed. He glanced at the list once, then away, expression neutral—almost bored.
Aizawa turned off the tablet. "Change back into your uniforms and return to class," he said, already walking away toward the faculty building. "Training doesn't stop here."
He didn't wait for a response.
As the class began to disperse, some students lingered to compare scores, others laughing nervously as the tension finally faded. Ochaco slowed as she passed Izuku, shooting him a quick glance and a small, genuine smile before hurrying after the others.
Katsuki didn't say a word.
He turned sharply, fists clenched at his sides, shoulders tight with barely contained rage.
'Tch… top of the class, huh?' he thought, teeth grinding. 'I'll crush him.'
Izuku watched him go for a moment, then smiled faintly to himself.
'First day, and I'm already number one,' he thought. '…That's kind of boring.'
TO BE CONTINUED