I have no powers, but I've got two hands and I know how to use them.

Hello everyone.

When I reach chapter 12, I'll start uploading advance chapters to my Patreon. For a while, I'll stop posting here to focus on that platform. For now, it's just symbolic: a way to motivate myself to keep writing.

I'm currently unemployed, so any kind of support—no matter how small—means a lot to me.

If I ever stop uploading chapters for more than a week, it's probably because work got to me.

[email protected]/novelwisp

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I stared at her for a few seconds after what she said.If I didn't already know her from the anime... I probably would've just turned around in silence and pretended this never happened.

I let out a tired sigh and stood up, brushing off my clothes, still covered in soot.

"I actually came here to talk to—"

"What the hell happened this time, Hatsume?!"

A deep voice boomed through the hallway, echoing off the walls.

I turned just in time to see a short man walking toward us, arms crossed like a dad about to scold his kid for setting the kitchen on fire. Again.

Power Loader.

Mei turned without a shred of guilt.

"Hi, Mr. Power Loader!" she chirped, like she wasn't standing in the middle of an industrial crime scene.

The smoke still hadn't cleared. A ceiling light hung down, sparking, and the remains of the door were embedded in the wall across the hall.

Power Loader stepped out of the smoke like a yellow nightmare—helmet locked in place, gloves on, and a frown so deep it looked carved in stone.

"I told you not to use the triple compressor without stabilizing the exhaust vents!" he barked, stomping toward Mei. "Look at that door! Do you even know how much it's gonna cost to fix it again?! It's your first day! How is that even possible?!"

"But it almost worked this time!" Mei replied with a scandalously proud smile.

Power Loader raised his hands to his helmet... and then he noticed me.

"...Tachibana."

"Power Loader-sensei," I nodded, doing my best not to look like a survivor of a minor explosion.

His expression shifted. From rage to... was that relief? I could've sworn he almost smiled beneath the visor.

"Good. When I saw the blast, I thought Mei had killed another poor soul by accident," he said, shooting her a look.

"I still haven't killed anyone!" Mei protested, clearly proud. "Just minor injuries! And one finger. But that wasn't my fault!"

I decided not to ask.

Crossing my arms, I finally felt a bit more relaxed.

"Nezu said he had access to the workshop. I came to talk to you to see if I could come outside of class... without disturbing anyone."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Nezu already told me you'd be coming at some point."He paused, then added,"Look, after reviewing your designs before the entrance exam, I was honestly impressed. You've got real potential."

I felt... not proud because a teacher complimented me—but because it came from someone who actually knew what they were talking about.

"Thanks."

"But," he added, raising a soot-covered finger, "you can't just come in here whenever you want and do whatever you please. This isn't an amusement park. I've got other students in the support course working on their own projects. If you get in the way, you're out. Got it?"

I nodded immediately.

"Understood."

Power Loader let out a sigh, then patted me on the shoulder with a greasy glove. Great. New uniform, ruined.

"Talk to me after classes. I'll give you a time slot and a workspace," he said before turning to Mei."And you... back inside."

He pointed his thumb at the entrance to the support course room—still smoldering.

Mei raised a hand in a mock salute, still grinning like none of this was serious.

"Aye, boss!" she shouted, then dashed back into the workshop.

Power Loader muttered something under his breath—probably a prayer for patience or sanity—and started walking back down the hallway, not even glancing at the charred remains of the door.

He was already halfway turned around when I remembered.

"Oh! By the way, Power Loader-sensei..."

He stopped mid-step and turned toward me, raising an eyebrow—though with that helmet on, it was more of a feeling than something I could actually see.

"What is it?"

"I also wanted to know if... the suit I ordered could be made."

He didn't say anything for a moment. Just looked at me. Then he sighed and crossed his arms.

"I knew you'd ask that."

Like everyone in the hero course, I had to submit a costume design along with my admission form. But, of course, my case was… different.

Most students just drew something that matched their personality or vibe, hoping a professional designer would work their magic with it.

In my case… it wasn't that simple.

I knew I wouldn't have enough time to build all my gear before the USJ invasion, so I didn't have a choice—I gave them my blueprints. My schematics. The key prototypes.

Not all of them, of course. Some were still in testing. And others… well, I wasn't even sure if they'd explode the moment I turned them on.

Swallowing my pride was the hardest part.

I don't like sharing what I create. Every single piece I've built cost me weeks—salvaging parts from busted microwaves, abandoned fridges, whatever I could scavenge from alleys, junkyards, or flea markets. And even after putting everything together carefully... boom. One bad calculation, one stray spark, and goodbye to the induction coil that took three days to take apart.

The Shocker Gloves, for example… It took six—maybe seven—prototypes before they stopped shocking me instead of the target.

That's why, during the entrance exam, I only brought my most reliable stuff. Gear I knew wouldn't break, because I didn't have the time or materials to risk anything else.

And now… I had trusted my blueprints to U.A.'s professional support system. From what I understood, at first, the suits aren't made by the support course students but by technicians affiliated with the school. People with real experience in materials, design, and safety. I mean, Iida's suit was made by the same company that built his brother Ingenium's.

So I had no idea if what I submitted was even doable… or if someone took one look and thought it was a sci-fi dream cooked up by an obsessive teenager.

Power Loader let out a long sigh and folded his arms, with an expression I couldn't quite read.

"I went over it, of course. I personally gave it the technical greenlight. But Tachibana… what you submitted is ambitious. Very ambitious."

"So… that's a no?" I asked, lowering my head, trying not to let the disappointment show in my voice.

Power Loader shook his head.

"These manufacturers are used to building support, not supersuits," he said, shrugging wearily. "You asked them to do things that a whole team of engineers would normally do."

I swallowed hard.

"I get it…"

"But," he added—and I looked up right away—"I didn't say they didn't try."

I stared at him.

"Seriously?"

"Probably," Power Loader replied, scratching the back of his neck with one gloved hand. "At least the basic stuff. And if it's not up to your standards, you'll be allowed to upgrade it yourself later."

I felt a little more at ease. Not ideal, but way better than I expected.

Power Loader headed into the workshop without saying anything else. Just then, the bell rang.

I sighed. Time to get back to class.

I took off my uniform jacket and folded it carefully before stuffing it into my bag; it had a few oil stains I'd rather not show off in the middle of the classroom.

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"I AM HERE!"

The classroom erupted as All Might entered. Some students screamed. Others just stared, mouths hanging open.

I... froze.

All Might.

It was the first time I'd ever seen him in person.

And yes—he's huge. He filled the entire doorway like the building itself wasn't built for him. His shadow washed over the classroom like a wave.

"COMING THROUGH THE DOOR LIKE A NORMAL PERSON!" he added, pointing both thumbs at himself.

Nothing about that was normal, I thought. But most of the class looked more thrilled than confused.

All Might walked to the center of the room with that impossible smile, that sparkle in his eyes, his chest puffed out like he was always mid-photo shoot.

"Alright, young heroes! Time for combat training!"

From the side wall, a panel hissed open. Several metal lockers slid out, each marked with our names.

"Suit up and meet me at Ground Beta!" he called out, and left—just as fast as he arrived. Only his laughter remained... and a little dust.

The class burst into action. Chairs scraped, people shouted, nervous laughter bounced off the walls.

I headed toward the lockers without saying a word.

I found my name on a black container labeled in white: Tachibana Riku.

I lifted it. Heavier than I expected.

Some students were already sprinting to the locker rooms. I followed quietly.

I looked for a cubicle in the back, opened the box and looked at its contents.

"Let's see how badly they messed up my design," I muttered.

We gathered in the tunnel that led out to the training field. I was the last to arrive.

I was wearing my suit: a black, fitted bodysuit with turquoise accents. What looked like sneakers were actually my inline skates. The updated Shocker Gloves had a slick new look, paired with a multi-purpose utility belt and a built-in backpack. My red scarf fluttered as I walked, and the polished visor with the full-face mask gave me a vibe somewhere between urban vigilante and high-tech hero.

Some looked excited. Others more tense. Midoriya was sweating more than seemed physically possible. Iida stood like a statue. Kaminari was saying something to Jirō that she was expertly ignoring.

I walked toward the group without speaking. My eyes scanned the others until they stopped to the left.

Momo Yaoyorozu.

Her costume was... revealing. Definitely sexy, though I knew it wasn't for attention—it was functional. Her Quirk required exposed skin to generate objects. Still, I always thought it was strange she didn't think of adding a cape at the start of the year. Of course, the real blame went to Kōhei Horikoshi. He was the one who decided to sexualize her from the beginning.

I stopped beside her. She turned slightly to look at me.

"You look good. Your suit makes you even more radiant, Yaoyorozu," I said, giving her a thumbs-up like it was the most natural thing in the world.

If I remembered correctly, she had some self-confidence issues. I could work with that.

Momo visibly blinked, a slight blush rising to her cheeks. She probably wasn't used to compliments from guys her own age—at least, not in that tone.

"T-Thank you, Tachibana," she replied, briefly lowering her gaze before recovering with composure. "Your suit is impressive as well."

"It is," I said, turning slightly to give her a better look at the design.

"NOW YOU LOOK LIKE HEROES!"

All Might's booming voice echoed across the training grounds, cutting off every conversation. His energy was infectious—if a bit over-the-top.

He started explaining the rules: two villains guard a fake bomb, two heroes try to disable it.

I got paired with Toru Hagakure. The invisible girl.

I'd already talked to her a few times; we got along okay, I guess... but not enough to say we were friends. Still, she was friendly. High energy. Easy to talk to.

"AND THE FIRST MATCH-UP!" All Might shouted, pulling two balls from a lottery box like he was hosting a game show. "Team I versus Team G!"

Of course I was up first.

First? Well. Not everything happened exactly like I remembered.

Team G: Kaminari and Jirō. A guy who uses electricity and a girl with sound-based attacks.

Toru and I were the villains.

We made our way to the designated building without wasting a second.