It didn't take long once I knew where to look.
Endeavor was everywhere—news clips, hero rankings, interviews, archived articles. I focused on the older ones, scrolling carefully, ignoring the flashy headlines and zeroing in on the details people usually skimmed over.
Family mentions.
Children.
Ages.
It took some piecing together, but eventually the picture became clear.
Todoroki Shoto was older than me.
Not by much.
Just one year.
I leaned back in my chair and let that settle.
That meant if I did nothing, I'd end up one grade below him. Close, but not close enough. Same school wouldn't guarantee the same class, and distance mattered for everything I was planning.
So I needed to skip a year.
The question wasn't if.
It was when.
Skipping too early would be risky. Teachers noticed unusual progress more at younger ages. It would draw attention, questions, assessments—things I didn't want. Skipping too late would leave me stuck behind permanently.
Elementary school stretched ahead of me like a long, predictable road.
I thought it through carefully.
Throughout elementary school, I had plenty of opportunities to collect negative energy in small, controlled amounts. Children were emotional, conflicts were common, and supervision was lax enough that minor incidents went unnoticed. It was stable. Safe.
Middle school, on the other hand, was different.
There was already enough bullying there without me doing anything. Cliques, resentment, insecurity—it generated negativity naturally. I wouldn't need to interfere much at all. I'd just need to be present.
That decided it.
The best time to skip a year would be the final year of elementary school.
Late enough to avoid suspicion. Early enough to place myself exactly where I needed to be.
Once that was settled, my thoughts returned to my quirk.
Power wasn't the issue anymore.
Reach was.
My absorption range was still limited. Roughly ten meters. Enough for controlled environments, but not enough for large-scale situations. If I wanted to make full use of future chaos—crowds, panic, widespread fear—I needed to extend that range.
I didn't know how yet.
More control, maybe.
More stored energy.
Or gradual expansion through repeated strain.
Whatever the method, it was something I'd need to work on slowly.
Carefully.
I closed the browser and sat quietly for a moment.
Everything was lining up.
The year.
The place.
The timing.
All that remained was execution.