MHA: Bat to the Future: The Other Midoriya

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Spring arrived, and Izuku and I were about to go to high school. U.A. The most prestigious Hero Academy in the country, maybe the world. Wow, right? Hope there will be some chicks.

Brimmed in our uniforms, we stood before Mom. She looked like she was about to cry any second now. She held both of us in a tight hug, muttering something about how proud she was. It was one of those moments that should've been sweet, but all I could think about was how much longer I would have to stand here before my ribs caved in.

"Mom, seriously. We're not dying. It's just school," I said, trying to wiggle out of her grip without looking like an ungrateful bastard.

"I know, I know," she said, finally letting go. "It's just… you're both growing up so fast! And U.A.! I mean, U.A.! My boys, in U.A.!" Her hands were suddenly on Izuku's face, squishing his cheeks like he was five again. "Izuku, don't forget to eat properly. And try not to break every bone in your body, alright? Please?"

Izuku nodded, or at least tried to, though her grip on his face made it look more like he was having a seizure. "Y-Yes, Mom!"

She turned to me, her hands twitching like she wanted to grab my face too but thought better of it. "And you, Ryuu. Don't… don't start fights. Please."

"Who, me?" I said, feigning shock. "I'm a model student, Mom. Straight As, never a problem."

She gave me a look that could melt steel. "Ryuu."

"Fine, fine," I said, throwing my hands up. "I'll try not to traumatize anyone on the first day."

"That's the best I'm going to get, isn't it?" she muttered, shaking her head. "Alright, you two. Go on. But call me when you get there! And don't forget your lunches!" She handed Izuku a bento box and shoved another into my hands before I could protest.

We stepped out the door, and the fresh spring air hit me like a cold shower. The cherry blossoms were doing their whole aesthetic thing, pink petals floating around like we were in some sappy coming-of-age movie. I glanced at Izuku, who was clutching his bento like it was a holy relic.

"Dude, relax. It's not like they're going to kick us out for looking nervous," I said, adjusting my uniform collar. "Though, if you trip on the way in, I'm not helping you up."

"I won't trip!" he said quickly, though the way he gripped his bento said otherwise.

"Sure," I said, smirking. "And I'm Midnight's secret lover." I wish.

The walk to the train station wasn't long, but it felt like it. Izuku kept fidgeting, mumbling something about "making a good first impression" and "not messing up." I ignored most of it, focusing instead on the fact that every other kid walking toward the station looked like they already written their hero acceptance speeches. A girl with long green hair walked by, her uniform perfectly ironed, her bag slung over her shoulder like she was modeling for a U.A. brochure. A guy with some kind of tail quirk was chatting with his friends, his laugh loud enough to make birds scatter.

The train ride was packed, as expected. Izuku clutched the pole like it was the only thing keeping him upright, while I leaned against the door, scanning the crowd. Most of the kids here were probably U.A. hopefuls, their shiny new uniforms giving them away. I caught snippets of conversations—talk about quirks, rankings, and who their favorite pro heroes were. One guy was loudly bragging about how his quirk could "melt steel beams" 9 out of 11 times. Sure, buddy. And I can juggle zero-pointers for fun.

When we finally got to U.A., the sheer size of the place hit me like a punch to the face. The main building looked like someone had taken a regular school and fed it steroids. Glass, steel, and a whole lot of "we're better than you" energy. Kids were milling around everywhere, some gawking at the architecture, others already forming cliques like this was some kind of hero-themed high school drama.

"Holy crap," Izuku muttered, staring up at the main building like it was the gates of heaven.

"Impressive, huh?" I said, smirking. "Hope it lives up to the hype."

As we walked through the main gates, I couldn't help but notice a few eyes on us. Maybe it was Izuku's nervous energy, or maybe it was just me radiating pure badassery. Either way, I shot a quick grin at a group of girls standing nearby. One of them whispered something to her friend, and they both giggled.

"Not bad, U.A.," I muttered. "Not bad at all."

Izuku elbowed me. "Ryuu, focus! We have to find our homeroom!"

"Relax, Waterworks," I said, pulling out my phone to check the map. "Class 1-A, right? It's on the first floor."

We made our way inside, weaving through the sea of first-years. The hallways were just as impressive as the outside—high ceilings, sleek floors, and the kind of clean that made you feel guilty for even breathing too hard. Izuku kept glancing around like he was expecting All Might to pop out of a closet and yell "Surprise!"

When we finally found 1-A, the door was already open, and the classroom was starting to fill up. I glanced around, taking in the competition. Spiky-haired dude who looked like he just rolled out of bed? Check. Pink-skinned girl with a grin that screamed "chaos"? Check. Serious-looking guy with glasses who was already sitting stiff as a board? Double check.

Izuku froze the moment we stepped inside, his eyes landing on none other than Katsuki Bakugo. The guy was lounging in his seat like he owned the place, his signature scowl already in place.

"Oh, great," I muttered. "Boom Boom Boy's here."

Bakugo's eyes snapped to us, and his scowl deepened. "Tch. Figures you two would end up here."

I smirked, leaning against the doorframe. "Miss me already, Bakugo? Don't worry, I'll make sure you don't get bored."

"Shut the hell up, Ryuu," he snapped, leaning forward slightly. "Try not to embarrass yourself, alright?"

"Embarrass myself?" I said, raising an eyebrow. "Buddy, I got first place. You're the one playing catch-up."

Veins on his temple swelled. Bakugo looked like he was about to charge at me.

"What do you think, second place?" I teased, dragging out the words just enough to make it sting.

His glare sharpened, and he stood abruptly, hands slamming against the desk. "Say that again, you smug piece of shit."

I leaned casually against the doorframe, tossing a smirk his way. "Second. Place. Need me to spell it out for you? S-E-C-O—"

"Shut the hell up!" Bakugo barked, already half out of his seat. His chair screeched back, and for a second, I thought he might actually lunge. The classroom was dead silent now, every pair of eyes locked on us like they just stumbled onto the first act of a gladiator match.

"Wow, already losing it?" I gestured vaguely at him. "Might wanna save some of that rage for the villains, champ."

"Ryuu," Izuku muttered from behind me, voice low. "Maybe—maybe don't—"

I waved him off without looking. "Relax, Waterworks. I'm just having a little fun. Right, Boom Boom?"

Bakugo's hands twitched, tiny sparks crackling at his palms. "You think you're hot shit, huh? First place doesn't mean anything. I'll blow past you the second this year starts."

"Uh-huh," I said, nodding mockingly. "I'm sure second place feels super motivating. Keep telling yourself that."

A sharp laugh came from somewhere in the middle of the room. The pink-skinned girl I noticed earlier had her head resting in her hand, grinning openly at the spectacle. "Damn, this is great. First day and we've already got fireworks. You two gonna fight, or should we sell tickets first?"

"Keep talking, Pinky," Bakugo snapped, throwing her a glance. "You wanna go next?"

She shrugged. "Nah, I'm good. Watching you implode is entertainment enough."

Bakugo's scowl deepened, but before he could say anything, the guy with glasses stood up so fast his chair scraped loudly against the floor. "Enough of this!" He adjusted his glasses with the kind of aggressive precision that practically screamed try-hard. "This is a prestigious institution, not some back-alley brawl! Both of you need to show some decorum!"

I tilted my head at him. "And you need to show some chill, Four-Eyes."

"Decorum is crucial for future heroes!" he snapped, pointing at me like I personally insulted his entire bloodline. "If you can't conduct yourselves properly, how do you expect to be role models?"

"Pretty sure nobody's looking to Boom Boom Boy for role models," I said. "And as for me? I'll be fine. People love an underdog."

"I'll kill you!" Bakugo yelled, stepping fully into the aisle now. His explosions popped louder, and his whole body was practically vibrating with fury.

"Kill me?" I raised an eyebrow. "C'mon shithands, what, you gonna cry after, too? I mean, you're already halfway there."

"THAT'S IT!" He lunged forward, but before he could even get halfway, another voice cut through the room.

"Sit down before I make you."

The entire class turned toward the voice. A human centipede in a sleeping bag was sprawled behind the teacher's desk. No one had noticed him before. He lazily unzipped part of the bag, lifting a sleep mask to reveal bloodshot eyes that looked like they hadn't known rest in years.

"You're too loud," he muttered flatly.

Bakugo froze mid-step, his glare shifting to the man now squirming out of the sleeping bag like an awkward caterpillar. The class watched as he stood, scratched his head, and pointed at Bakugo without looking directly at him. "You. Sit."

Bakugo hesitated, clearly weighing his options. "And who the hell are you?"

The man's eyes narrowed. "Your teacher. Aizawa Shouta. Homeroom. Now sit down before I expel you for being a nuisance."

The room went silent.

Bakugo clicked his tongue but finally returned to his seat, slamming into it hard enough to make the desk rattle. I could feel the frustration radiating off him from two rows away. "Whatever."

Once we were all seated, Aizawa unceremoniously kicked the sleeping bag into a corner and stepped to the front of the class. "Alright, listen up. This is U.A. High. You're not here to make friends, start fights, or waste my time. You're here to train and become heroes. If you can't handle that, leave now."

No one moved.

He scanned the room, his eyes lingering just long enough on each of us to make it clear he was sizing us up. "Good. Let's get this over with." He pulled a clipboard from seemingly nowhere and tapped it. "Orientation's canceled. We're skipping straight to your Quirk Apprehension Test."

Several students exchanged confused glances. I could already feel the question bubbling up in someone's throat before they spoke. Sure enough, Glasses Guy shot up from his seat like a jack-in-the-box.

"Excuse me, Sensei!" he said, voice clipped. "What about the entrance ceremony? And guidance for the first day?"

Aizawa didn't even look up from his clipboard. "Don't care. If you want guidance, ask the principal. If you want to be a hero, stand up, get moving, and prove you belong here."

Pink Girl leaned back in her chair, smirking. "Well, this just got interesting."

"Wait, what kind of test?" Izuku blurted out, immediately wilting under Aizawa's glare.

"The kind that tells me whether you're worth keeping around," Aizawa said. "We'll be testing your Quirks in a series of physical exercises. Simple stuff. Running, throwing, endurance. The difference is, you're using your Quirks. Oh, and one more thing."

He paused, letting the silence drag just long enough to make it uncomfortable. "Whoever performs the worst gets expelled. Immediately."

The room erupted into chaos.

"Expelled?!" someone shouted from the back.

"You've gotta be kidding!" another voice chimed in.

"This has to be a joke," Izuku whispered, looking like he might pass out.

Aizawa yawned, scratching the back of his head. "It's not. U.A. has a reputation to uphold. If you can't cut it here, you're gone. Simple as that."

"Bring it," Bakugo said, leaning back in his seat with a cocky grin.

Aizawa clapped his hands once, the sound sharp enough to shut everyone up. "Alright, that's enough whining. Get changed and meet me at the field. You've got ten minutes."

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