"So sleepy…"
"I want to sleep in…"
At 5:30 a.m., the night had not yet fully retreated. Only a faint glow on the horizon hinted at the coming dawn. Despite this, every student of Class A had already been dragged out of their warm beds by Aizawa-sensei, forced into their training uniforms, and lined up in the open square outside the lodge.
Because everyone had gone to bed late the night before, even after a quick wash, they all looked half-dead—yawning nonstop, eyes unfocused, bodies swaying slightly. Kaminari looked especially miserable; his body was still covered in bluish bruises, making him look pitiful at a glance.
"Good morning."
Aizawa-sensei himself didn't look much better. With his usual lifeless expression, he addressed them calmly.
"Starting today, the formal strengthening phase of the training camp begins. The purpose of this camp is to improve everyone's abilities and prepare you for obtaining your provisional hero licenses. This is training designed to face stronger enemies in the future, so take it seriously."
Hearing those words, the students' sleepy expressions instantly sharpened. The moment they heard the words provisional license, several mouths dropped open in shock.
"Wait—so we're finally getting close to the provisional license exam?!"
Masata was also visibly excited. For anyone aiming to become a professional Hero, the provisional license was a crucial milestone. Without it, they wouldn't even qualify for official hero activities.
"Alright, that's enough explanation. Igarashi—catch."
Aizawa suddenly tossed a familiar object toward Masata.
Masata caught it easily and glanced down, surprised.
"Isn't this… the softball from the entrance exam?"
"I remember your previous record," Aizawa said. "Two thousand two hundred forty-eight meters, right? Let's see how far you can throw it now."
Aizawa crossed his arms, observing calmly.
Based on past experience, students naturally improved after several months at U.A., but most of that growth was technical or mental. Physical abilities might increase slightly, but Quirks rarely showed dramatic improvement without systematic training.
Masata's growth, however, had been unusually smooth. Aizawa wanted to use this opportunity to temper his mindset.
Don't be too shocked later, Aizawa thought quietly.
"Then—volcanic eruption!"
With a violent swing of his arm, Masata unleashed his power. A burst of force exploded from his hand, accompanied by black smoke and a scorching smell. The softball ripped through the air with a deafening sonic boom and vanished into the sky.
Several seconds passed.
Then—
Beep.
A number appeared on Aizawa's measuring device.
"…4,286 meters?!"
Aizawa stared at the screen, rubbed his dry eyes, then checked again to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. After confirming the result, he inhaled sharply.
Masata's throwing distance had nearly doubled since enrollment.
"This distance isn't bad," Masata said, nodding in satisfaction.
After all, he hadn't even been able to properly elementalize his body when he first entered the school.
"That's insane…"
"As expected of Masata…"
"I wonder how far I can throw!"
The other students immediately grew restless, eager to test themselves.
"Next—Bakugo."
Aizawa sighed internally. Why do they all think they'll suddenly double their numbers?
Bakugo cracked his neck, grinning confidently.
"I've been training nonstop these past three months! There's no way I won't break two thousand meters!"
His entrance exam record had been 705 meters, yet he boldly set his goal at two kilometers.
Taking a throwing stance, Bakugo's eyes burned with confidence.
"DIE!!!"
BOOM!
Moments later, Aizawa raised the measuring device, completely expressionless.
"Seven hundred twenty meters."
"…WHAT?!"
Bakugo shouted in disbelief, and the rest of the class reacted the same way. The gap between expectation and reality was brutal.
One by one, the remaining students took the test. While their distances had improved slightly—by a few meters or tens of meters—the results were nowhere near Masata's.
"Igarashi's case is… special," Aizawa finally said.
"It's not something you should compare yourselves to. As you can see, most of your Quirks haven't grown significantly."
Aizawa secretly felt relieved. If everyone's Quirk had skyrocketed, this training camp would've been pointless.
"So starting today, we'll conduct intensive Quirk training for everyone."
Then, a dangerous smile appeared on his face.
"It will be exhausting. Painful. Possibly unbearable.
But don't worry—just don't die."
Class A collectively swallowed.
Overusing Quirks came with terrifying consequences. Ochaco could vomit from overexertion, Kaminari could turn brain-dead, and even Masata had a limit—his was simply far higher than most.
"Muscle fibers break down to grow stronger," Aizawa continued.
"Quirks work the same way. Continuous use increases capacity. Your task is simple—break your limits."
"Emitter types must raise their output ceilings. Mutant and transformation types must strengthen the organs responsible for their Quirks."
Under Aizawa's instructions, everyone began moving training equipment out into the square and immediately started their individual training routines.
Not long after, Class B arrived under their homeroom teacher. They had come with relaxed smiles—
Only to freeze in horror at the hellish training scene in front of them.
Every single one of them instantly wanted to turn around and run.