First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Chapter Summary:
The Entrance Exams for the Management course are a different kind of stressful compared to the ones for the Hero Course. Especially to someone whose biggest hurdle is their anxiety.
He may have spent a little too much time practicing in the mirror for this.
Nooroo flitted about the room, helping his chosen pack his bag for the day. They both knew that Izuku didn’t need the help, but the kwami’s quiet assurances were acting as a balm to his nerves right then. One that he desperately didn’t want to lose yet.
He’d spent the past ten months preparing for his entrance exam, but no amount of prep was enough to keep his spiraling anxieties at bay. He’d been able to distract himself with his work as Sasakia, chasing leads and passing information to various heroes. But the pressure had still been hovering at the back of his mind.
So he’d done the one thing he could do, the one thing that was in his power to do; he researched. He studied UA, he studied the past tests, and he hunted for information that had been shared by Alumni. He’d scoured every source he could get his hands on. (He may have… Even went into a few that he technically shouldn’t have had access to. He… He was never going to let people know the corners he’d managed to get into without the credentials he should have had.)
(Plus side, lurking let him gather things for his role as Sasakia! So, ultimately useful finds.)
From what Izuku understood from his research, UA handled its applicants very differently from any other school. Let alone a Hero School.
Most schools only had students sit through a written exam that covered multiple classes that the school offered, such as history, math, English, and so on. Most of their chances rode on their score and whatever records their previous school gave to the high schools, and their ability to pay the tuition if their school required one.
However, UA was more thorough as their tests usually consisted of two parts before accepting students into their walls.
All the courses included a written test, covering the standard material expected of a high school of their caliber. Meaning it was challenging and would require prior studying or a clear understanding of the subject matter to ensure a passing grade.
The second part, on the other hand, varied depending on the course you were applying to.
Hero students had a practical exam, meant for them to display their understanding of their quirks and how best to apply them. From what Izuku had gathered during his panicked scrawling through the internet on nights when his nerves were too high strung to let him rest (or he was puzzling through a case that made him too upset to sleep); the hero course practical was skewed to offensive quirks, making it difficult for anyone who didn’t have a flashy ability to show what they were capable of.
There were possibly multiple ways to earn points, but it seemed like the methods for earning those points were kept very hush-hush by the school. Likely to keep anxious or obsessive studying students from learning about it and skewing their actions to match.
The exception was the recommendation students. Who had a separate, significantly more complex test that varied from year to year. Unlike the main test, people were more open about the Recommendation tests.
(Probably because they were different each year, so there was less chance of the students being able to cheat.)
General Education students were usually made up of students who didn’t pass the hero-course practical, but had shown either the grades or the determination that was worthy of the school. According to the grapevine, it was possible to test out of the GenEd and into the Hero course if they showed enough skill later on in the school year. Often during the Sports Festival, but there were a few cases where a student managed to impress the teachers enough to be transferred, even without making a grand showing like that.
It was a fascinating setup when Izuku stopped and thought about it. Since it proved that the initial entrance exam wouldn’t block a hero-hopeful’s dream if they didn’t pass on their first try. They still had a chance if they were willing to put in the time and effort.
(And any hero students who were found not to be cut out for the hero course would be bumped “down” to GenEd. It was a two-way street. Although Izuku was sure most of the students in the Hero course didn’t know about that…)
Support Course students usually had to submit a project that they were working on in addition to their tests. Blueprints, notes they had of the gear they were making, and the kind of applications they could see their project being used for. Some of them even designed a piece of gear for a hero currently working in the industry and explained how and what they thought it would help with.
He’d heard that one support student had made a support gear for a hero that worked so well, the hero actually contacted UA for permission to give the student contracts while they were still in school! Which was just amazing.
And then there was the Business/Management course.
Management required students to have an interview with one of the management course teachers. Where the student was supposed to show their understanding of what they wanted to do in that course, as well as convince the teachers that they were a good fit.
Unlike what people seemed to think, the Management Course was built on a tremendous amount of specializations. HR, PR, all kinds of Financial, Marketing and Sales, everything Legal, not to mention anything that involved working with the police and government; everything that was needed for a Hero or Hero Agency to succeed was crammed into the Management Course if the other courses didn’t already cover them. (And even then, there was a lot of overlap.)
No student could take on all of those, and no agency could depend on a single person to fill all of those roles. So, when entering Management, the hopeful student needed to know what role they wanted to fill. After all, with how many jobs an agency needed to get done, accepting just the students who wanted to be PR agents would leave a deficit in everything else. So UA needed to ensure there was at least one student interested in all of those trying to get into their course. As well as to test the interests of the student to see if they were even willing to dabble in the other disciplines that were covered. (A one-trick pony would never get far.)
Izuku had a goal. He knew what field he wanted to specialize in and had no fear of expanding his skills outside of it.
He planned to take on Quirk Profiling and Analysis.
If there was anything he’d gotten good at in or out of his role as Sasakia, if there was any singular skill of his that he was well and truly proud of, it was figuring out how quirks worked when he only had their aftereffects to work from.
He could pick out the most likely effects and get damn close to figuring out who did it based on that. And he knew how much that helped both heroes and police save people’s lives. He knew how understanding how a criminal’s quirk worked could help get the right person on the right case to save people. He knew how the Right hero could be found if they knew what was needed.
And it was something he knew he could do.
He’d assembled a “test” profile to present during his interview, based on a criminal case he’d seen on the news that wasn’t solved yet. He knew it might be a little risky, since it was an ongoing case, but he’d wanted to show what he was capable of. And he’d planned to say outright that he knew there was every chance he would be proven wrong later, but he’d wanted to give them something current that they could also look at.
(And he’d been afraid that, if he used an older case or one that had been solved, they would think he was just showing them someone else’s work instead of his own.)
He’d printed out more than one copy of the analysis, so he could hand them out if there were more than one teacher in the room. (Maybe six copies were too much, but his nerves said print more. So he did.) Nooroo had needed to convince him to simplify some of his observations, but he felt confident in the final printout.
All he had to do was get to the school in time, take the written exam, and not melt into a puddle of panic and anxiety during the interview.
Easy!
Now, if he could just convince his roiling nerves of that.
“Izu-bocchan, you need to breathe,” Nooroo’s voice gently cut into the haze of Izuku’s distracted thoughts.
He took a deep breath in, held it, then slowly let it out.
“S-sorry, Nooroo. I’m just- I-” He bit down on his lip, forcibly swallowing back the tremor in his voice. “N-nerves.”
“That’s alright,” the butterfly kwami said with a soft smile. “It’s normal to be nervous. There’s nothing wrong with it, so long as you don’t let it hold you back.”
Izuku gave a wobbly smile, which was returned with a calm, patient smile from the kwami.
“Now, final checklist before we go, do you have your bag?”
“Ch-check.” Izuku lifted the satchel his mother had surprised him with for his last birthday.
It was almost all black, with creamy-white strap and bright yellow buckles that held the flap shut. She had made it for him, and even included a mesh pocket on the side for his water bottle, pen pockets on the inside, a few pouches on the front that were just the right size for some fruit bars, and a little sturdy pocket inside that was perfectly sized for Nooroo to sit in without feeling squished by Izuku’s school supplies.
(Unwrapping it had been the moment when he realized he may have been gushing more about Eraserhead at home than he’d originally thought. He appreciated how subtle the nod to the hero was, but it still left him feeling bashful.)
“And you have your profiles all packed in it?”
“Check. All in their folder, for safekeeping.” They were stapled into packets and neatly packed inside. Plastic, with snaps to keep it shut and prevent anything that leaked in the bag from staining them.
“Your latest analysis book?”
“Y-yes. It’s in the same pocket as the support book.” For any support tool ideas that he had, or self-defense tools that people could use. It had started as a suggestion from Sango-sensei that he ran with. It was fun when he tried to think of various hero-gear that could have civilian uses.
(He had a few ideas for Kamiko inside it as well, hidden amongst the support gear as “theoretical quirks” that he’d come up with. Just in case anyone asked him what was inside it.)
“Water and snacks?”
“Fruit bars and granola for both of us, along with my water bottle and a mini-smoothie for you.” Healthy foods were important, and he would never pack food for just himself.
“Your wallet?”
“In my pocket. With a little extra money in it in case I need fare or we stop to eat on the way home.” Which they probably wouldn’t, since Izuku’s mom had already fed them both a large breakfast that morning.
“Your cellphone?”
“Already turned on and in the same pocket as the wallet.”
“And, lastly, the miraculous?” Izuku chuckled, his smile feeling more real. As if Izuku would ever go anywhere without it.
“Pinned to the inside of my gakuran, where no one but us will know it’s there.” Nooroo smiled, landing gently on his shoulder.
“Well then, Izu-bocchan, I think it’s time to go.” Izuku smiled at his friend, lifting the flap of his bag just enough to let the kwami slip inside
His mother and little sister had already left for the day, so Izuku would be making the trip on his own. He’d insisted on it. For both his nerves and his self-confidence, he’d wanted to make his way to UA alone.
His mother had spent plenty of time fussing over them both already and packed lunches for both of them.
The train ride was short enough, and Izuku busied his hands with notes for his Idea Book and his ears with music to keep his thoughts from spiraling. He’d had a fun idea for a self-defense weapon that could be available to the public that he was sure would make Sango-sensei laugh, and set about sketching the idea in his notebook to show her later.
(In the 19th century, the French upper-class had trained in a special type of fighting that made use of a walking stick/cane, called Canne d’Arme or Canne de Combat. Why not take it and try to modernize it with something people could carry on their person today without gaining notice? Specially reinforced umbrellas would be odd, but no one would make a fuss about someone carrying one. If the cloth was made of the right material, it could act as a shield against most types of knives as well. If a hero had it, then there could be a hidden tracker that could be deployed from the tip, or it could work like a sword cane!)
(But, most of all, beating a mugger over the head with an umbrella would be funny. And that was reason enough to make Sango-sensei laugh.)
He felt Nooroo poke him through the bag, getting him to look up and take note of the stop on the display over the door.
They’d arrived. Time for the most important Test and Interview of his school career.
Izuku had lost his idea book.
Which really wasn’t something he should have been hung up on at this moment, but he was.
He was 90% sure that he kind of knew where it had gone, or rather, who it had gone with. The problem was that he had no idea who to ask or where to look for the person in question.
It hadn’t been stolen, he was sure of that much. Not on purpose, anyway.
He’d been (accidentally!) run over by a pink-haired girl with dreadlocks sprinting to the support course testing area, both of them had dropped note books in the collision, and he was fairly certain the girl must have picked up his notebook by accident while racing to grab hers and shouting an apology over her shoulder at him. It had happened so fast he’d barely had time to realize what was going on until the girl was gone, and he was sitting on the ground staring after her in bewilderment.
Especially since, as far as he was aware, they weren’t even late for the tests. If anything, he knew that he’d arrived early for them. So there shouldn’t have been a reason for the girl to be racing around as if she were late.
(Support and Management were both done on the same day, with the Hero Course getting a day to themselves. That was par for the course, considering just how many students UA had applying for the Hero course. It was better to have the full staff on hand to deal with that many anxious teenagers on their campus instead of trying to divide everyone up for it.)
He’d simply shaken his head, murmured an assurance when Nooroo asked if he was alright, and dusted himself off before heading to the area where management students were supposed to be taking their tests.
He hadn’t even realized his notebook was missing until he’d sat down in his seat for the management test and found it wasn’t in his bag when he pulled out one of his pencils. He’d wanted to kick himself when he finally noticed. But at this moment, he couldn’t really do anything. And he wasn’t sure he could whisper softly enough to ask Nooroo to find the girl for him without alerting the other students to something being off. He really didn’t want someone to accuse him of using something to cheat. Or to distract the other students from their work.
He’d just have to ask a teacher after the tests and interview. He was reasonably sure they would help once he explained the situation.
The test itself hadn’t been too hard, as far as he had been able to tell. Sure, he felt a little bit like his brain was going to melt out of his ears, but he knew that was more from making his brain jump between subjects so rapidly. He was a little too used to only having to deal with one subject at a time during a test and not several of them all at once. And the trick questions he’d found near the end of the test, mostly management-related ones.
Nothing too big, as far as he’d been able to tell. The right kind of questions to ask a management hopeful, but worded in a way that made them stop and think.
(PR and Police Coordination could make or break a Hero. Especially a Limelight Hero. They needed people who could help them make the right choices and use the right words. Management was far more valuable than people realized until they needed it. Better to test those traits now than to see how much they had to work with.)
He felt like he’d done pretty well overall, at least. He was sure he had a passing grade, enough to net him a spot in the top 30 students. He was good on that front, at the very least.
Next up was The Interview.
(And yes, it needed capitals as far as Izuku was concerned. His anxiety demanded it.)
Everyone had been divided up and sent to waiting rooms, at which point their name would be called, and they would enter the interviewing room with their presentations. They’d have ten, maybe fifteen minutes to get through their Interview, give their presentations, and answer questions from the teachers. Once they were finished or time had run out, they would leave. He assumed they were told that they had to wait for their letter of acceptance (or non-acceptance) while still in the privacy of the interviewing room for the sake of their privacy.
By luck or by chance, it seemed that Izuku’s name would be the last one called.
He’d seen several other students, rife with nerves or excitement (or both, usually both), be called into the room while he remained seated. A few had gone in radiating surety and smugness, which had just left him frowning at their backs as they went. He’d felt things like that before, and usually it came from someone being arrogant in some form.
He hoped it was just pride in understanding and not something that would get them hurt later. (Or someone else.)
But the repeated bursts of Shock, quickly mixed with light currents of Panic (and… being flustered?), did very little to help Izuku’s nerves. Especially since he didn’t know why he was sensing that from the room. He could only assume there was something unexpected inside, but that left him with far too many ideas of what that surprise could be. He didn’t know if it was just something to knock them off their game or if it was something else.
He hummed to himself, weaving just the smallest bit of magic into the song as he did.
Nooroo had taught him that music was one of the earliest tools for casting magic. Music was meant to teach and to get people to Feel things, so it made for a good beginner trick for people learning to pull at their magic. Izuku thought he was fairly good at tugging on and smoothing over his own tremulous emotions by humming or singing, and he’d used the trick to soothe Eri’s nightmares plenty of times. As far as he could tell, it was a trick that worked.
And humming himself Calm was the only thing keeping him from vibrating out of his skin while he waited for his name to be called. So he would use it as much as he could.
“Midoriya Izuku?”
Izuku stopped humming instantly, head snapping to the open door where Cementoss (!!) was leaning out. Izuku wasn’t sure how well he was able to hide his glee at seeing the hero. Based on the slight flickers of warmth he could sense (flattery, pleased at the positive reaction), he wasn’t doing very well.
“Y-yes, sir!”
“You’re up next. Please come in.” The hero smiled at him, but he could sense faint flickers of amusement as Izuku nearly tripped in his haste to get up.
The room looked a little bit like a conference room. A large wooden topped table in the center with several chairs around it, with large windows against the far wall that lit up the room in addition to the lights overhead. A projector was set up on the table and a screen on the wall, for any students who used a PowerPoint for their interview, if he had to guess. There were a few plants in the conference room too, large and leafy trees settled in the corners that added some natural color to the gray, professional-looking room.
There seemed to be only two teachers in the room with him- No, wait, make that three. He could sense three people waiting in the room.
There was Cementoss, who’d called him in; Midnight, the R-Rated Heroine, sitting languidly in her seat at the table and dressed in her hero costume as she eyed him with a sly smile (and there was a sharp note of amusement and glee to her emotions, for some reason); and then there was…
Izuku nearly blue-screened as his mind registered the final teacher sitting in the Interview Room. Because, seated neatly at the table and watching him with a politely neutral smile, was Principal Nedzu himself.
(Exactly what kind of animal Nedzu was was a heavily debated topic. Some argued he was a chimera, an animal made from the DNA of multiple kinds of animals. Others thought he was possibly a strange kind of rodent that had been mutated in addition to having a quirk.)
(Nooroo believed that the principal of UA looked a lot like an albino version of a very large American weasel species called a “fisher cat”. After looking it up, Izuku thought it was a pretty good guess.)
The cunning mystery mammal was dressed neatly as he sat at the table, paws folded in front of him as he watched Izuku come in. Watched as Izuku froze, wide-eyed and stunned, at the realization that the most intelligent being in the world would be present and listening as he tried to convince them to allow him to attend their school.
As he evaluated the quirkless potential student to decide if they would allow him to walk UA’s halls.
Yeah, now the shock and panic he’d been sensing before made sense.
Izuku was feeling pretty shocked and panicked himself.
He swallowed against the lump of fear terror anxiety that had abruptly lodged itself in his throat, eyes fixed on the principal.
The principal who felt… Politely interested, but in a subdued way? There was nothing bad in his emotions, as far as Izuku could tell. He didn’t want to say it felt like the hero was bored, per se, but there wasn’t much of a spark in the animal’s emotions.
Maybe it was tiredness? He’d just had to sit through a bunch of presentations by student-hopefuls trying to curry enough of his attention to get him to agree to let them join his school. And Izuku was pretty sure most of the ones in the group he’d been in just wanted to do PR for a hero and not the rest of the work that goes with it. Sitting through at least 15 different variations of the same presentation would probably be a little bit boring, even if the people in question tried to liven it up in some way. Since most of them were middle schoolers, a lot of their “You Should Choose Me” statements were probably the same ones, but with slightly different sentence structure.
Which, yeah. He could see being a tad bored from that.
Maybe I can be a change of pace, then. Something new. This might even help me stand out in a good way.
“U-uhm, good morning. I-it’s an honor to meet you, Nedzu sir. And you as well, Midnight-san, Cementoss-san.” Izuku bowed, straightening up and smiling nervously at the three teachers. Something positive appeared in the emotions of all three, though there wasn’t quite enough for him to guess at what it was. (Pleased that he’d acknowledged all of them instead of just fixating on one, maybe?) Principal Nedzu smiled just a little bit wider.
“Good morning. It’s Midoriya Izuku, correct?” Principal Nedzu gestured to the seat in front of him, a silent invitation for the curly-haired boy to sit down. Cementoss moved to sit on the other side of the school’s principal, putting the animal between the two much taller humans.
“Y-yes, sir,” Izuku answered with a nod, slowly taking a seat and setting his bag in the chair beside him
“Well, as I’m sure you already know, this is the management course interview. We’d like to know a bit more about you and what you’d like to learn in our school.” Logical and fairly standard as far as Izuku had managed to learn. “As you know, our school is focused on the Heroics Industry, so much of our curriculum is designed to help students find a place in the industry. And one of those ways is to learn what it is you want to do. What do you wish to specialize in that you think will help.”
The animal smiled pleasantly, his emotions calm and fairly relaxed from what he could tell, and opened his paws in an inviting gesture.
“So tell us, Midoriya-san, what heroics field do you wish to work in?”
Izuku took a deep breath, fighting with everything he had to keep from fidgeting in the seat, and he answered.
“I want to work as a Quirk Profiler and Analyst, sir.”
And suddenly, all three teachers had a surge of Interest in their emotions. Especially from Nedzu, who started leaning forward in his seat. The sudden, laser focus made the hair on the back of Izuku’s neck stand on end, but he forced the feeling to the back of his mind.
“Really now? That’s not a common field of interest for new students.” Cementoss commented, eyes opening just enough for Izuku to see them properly. He sounded kind of… Impressed, honestly. He hoped that was what he was hearing and sensing. “Normally, students pick up on that field later in their schooling.”
“I-I know. But it’s something I’ve been interested in for a long time, and I’d like to make a career out of it. I- I actually made an example profile for my presentation today.”
“Oh, I do love when a young man comes prepared~” Midnight’s tone was salacious, but the note of genuine Interest in her emotions made it easier for him to keep his head. Despite the flustered blush crawling over his face. “Do please show us, Midoriya-san.”
Izuku bobbed his head, opening his bag and pulling out the folder that he’d put the profiles in. Snapping it open, he pulled out three of his six copies and handed them to the teachers.
“I, uh, used a current case that the police have been working on for this. The burglaries in Hosu, since the reports are relatively open to the public.” He looked at them, still nervous but serious. He did his best to keep his eyes on their faces. He didn’t keep direct eye contact, but he made sure to look at THEM. Especially for Midnight-san. ( He would not be making that mistake today.) “I know that there’s every chance that my profile could be proven wrong, once the criminal is caught. But I wanted to show what I could put together with limited information.”
Because that was what profilers worked from, the information left behind. Pictures and descriptions were brought to them by the police of what had happened.
“I see…” Cementoss murmured, reading over the front page of the profile. “Would you kindly explain your logic for this profile, then, Midoriya-san?”
Nedzu’s attention was gone the instant the profile was in his paws. Izuku could tell. Or, at the very least, he was listening with only half an ear instead of giving the potential student his full focus. He didn’t feel offended about it, though, since work like this was technically the teacher’s specialty anyway. He might have been comparing Izuku’s conclusions to the ones he would have drawn from the same evidence.
If anything, he felt a little relieved to not have the laser focus of the school principal on him anymore. The small mammal felt Intense in a way that he wasn’t used to.
Izuku nodded to the teachers and started speaking.
He explained what he could gather from the police notes available to the public, the photos and videos from the news reels, and the descriptions he could find between them. His process for figuring out the kinds of quirks that could cause that damage, and the level of damage based on what they did to get the items they stole. And, finally, what kind of quirk he believed the police needed to look for to find their perpetrator.
As he spoke, he gestured to his printouts, pointing out the details as he covered them and how they connected. Stopping to answer any questions asked by Cementoss or Midnight as he went, and leaving time to let them ask something if they wanted to.
He felt more and more confident as he went, his voice getting stronger and his nervous stutter fading. The positive emotions from the teachers helped bolster him as he spoke. The teachers felt impressed; they were listening to what he had to say.
(They were looking at Izuku. They were listening to him. People listened to Sasakia, but this was different because he was Izuku right then.)
There was quiet once he finished. Then Cementoss spoke up.
“This is very well thought out, Midoriya-san. You’ve done a very good job of working with the clues you were able to find to compile this. Did your quirk help you find these details?”
It was an innocent question. A calm one that, for all intents and purposes, should have been perfectly normal to ask someone.
It took everything that Izuku had to suppress the reflexive flinch.
(He didn’t notice the teachers noticing the not-flinch at the question.)
“N-no sir. I can’t use a quirk for that because I- I don’t actually…” He swallowed, trying to get his voice even again. “I’m… I’m quirkless, sir.”
“Interesting!” Nedzu’s downright chirpy reply made him jump in surprise. “So this was compiled entirely from unassisted observation and logic based on other quirks and cases, I presume?”
“Ah, yes, sir.” Izuku was feeling more than a little bewildered at the emotions he was sensing from the school’s principal. There was interest, curiosity, and delight radiating from the hero’s small form.
(He was too used to the downturns. Silent sympathy if the people were kind, pity on occasion. Disinterest and dismissal were much more common. Hatred appeared at times, but that was a less common reaction. And always because of that single, unassuming word being spoken.)
“Wonderful! This is very detailed, considering the limited information available to the public. A tad rough, however, there’s definitely potential. I have a few critiques for how you’ve presented some of your points in this, but overall this is very well thought out and assembled.” The principal beamed at him, something bright and even gleeful in his emotions as he spoke. “Unfortunately, I believe we have run out of time for the interview. However, I could include my critiques with your results when they are sent out. If you are amenable to that, of course.”
The offer was genuine. He could feel it. Nedzu thought the profile was good and wanted to give him advice to improve it!
“I- Of course, sir! I’d be honored to get feedback from you,” Izuku said, beaming at the teacher.
“Well then, Midoriya-san, until our next conversation, have a pleasant day!”
“Same to you, sir!” Izuku bowed deeply and left the room at a borderline giddy bounce.
It wasn’t until he was on the train again that Nooroo reminded him in a whisper about his notebook that he realized that he’d completely forgotten to ask for help finding it. Then he’d buried his face in his hands and groaned in frustration.
It seemed he’d just have to make a second one, then.
(In a different part of town, a pink-haired inventor was combing over the notebook she’d accidentally stolen in excitement. It was full of magnificent babies that she couldn’t wait to try making. She’d hunt down Notebook Boy and demand a partnership with him once they were both in UA; these babies were simply too good to leave on paper!)
Extra:
Nemuri was grinning gleefully as she flounced into the staff room. Nedzu was at her heels, nose in a packet of stapled papers and looking very pleased about something. (He was almost afraid of what that meant.)
“Oh, Shouta I have a surprise for you”
The exhausted hero glared up at her from his desk, pausing in his paperwork to do so.
“It better be intel on a case or coffee,” he grumbled, eyeing her warily. He was still sore from his last patrol and hadn’t slept well because of it. He wasn’t in the mood for whatever mischief Nemuri had caused the potential students during the Management Interviews right then.
“Nope! Something much more fun than that!” She slapped a paper down on his desk. Pulling her hand away revealed that it was a picture, likely printed from the security cameras on campus. “You had a fan among the applicants!”
His brow furrowed in confusion at the same moment Hizashi squawked a delighted “What?!” and all but slammed into his side to see the picture.
There was a rather plain-looking kid with thick, curly green hair in the picture. He was dressed in a fairly standard school gakuran with bright red sneakers on, and wearing a cross-body satchel as he walked through the hallway. (A practical one, from what little he could tell. It had plenty of pockets and even a pouch for the kid’s water bottle.)
He quirked an eyebrow at her. He didn’t see anything that showed the kid was a “fan” of his.
“Look at the colors of his bag, Shou! It’s all black, with a white shoulder strap that’s almost the same shade as your capture scarf, and it’s got yellow buckles that are pretty close to the color of your goggles. Those sure aren’t my colors! Or Hizashi’s!” She grinned at him, practically glowing in delight. “Plus, while the rest of us have retailers selling bags, that one is handmade. I could tell when I saw it up close during the kid’s interview. And since we all know you don’t do official merch, that means~”
Hizashi let out a giddy noise from where he was leaning against Shouta.
“Either someone made it for him or he made it himself!” Hizashi was barely keeping his inside voice. He was over the moon about someone seeing his work and making their own merch for him.
Shouta couldn’t help the skeptical frown that appeared.
“Or. It’s just a coincidence, and you’re reading into something that isn’t there.” He said, placidly.
Nemuri and Hizashi always seemed to get excited when they thought they saw homemade merch for any heroes they were friends with. And would gleefully point them out to the friend in question the moment they had a chance. They’d pointed out things that they thought looked similar to his costume before, certain that they’d managed to find one of his “fans”.
People weren’t supposed to see his work. He was an underground hero, and not being noticed by the public was part of the point. Sure, he was seen by some people. Usually, the people he was in the process of helping were the ones who saw him. But that was a given.
“Who do you take me for, Shou? I wouldn’t throw something like this out for no reason,” Nemuri said as she waggled her finger at him. He barely held back a comment at that. “I checked the kid’s application before the interview and saw his address. His apartment building is within a couple of blocks of one of your patrol routes! I’d bet money that he’s either been helped by you or knows someone who was.”
Shouta blinked at that. That was… A somewhat logical argument.
He didn’t recognize the kid himself, but it was possible for someone he’d helped to have talked about him in some capacity around their neighborhood. So, it was possible that the kid could have heard of him and been able to get a vague description. Enough to know he existed and was a Pro-Hero. (Enough to choose colors for a bag.)
He let out a hum.
“It’s still just speculation.”
He ignored the way his friends huffed and whined about him not being “excited” about someone noticing the hard work he did with practiced ease. It wouldn’t be true unless it was objectively confirmed, and he doubted either of them would chase the kid down just to ask.
(He hid the tiny ember of warmth in his chest at the idea that maybe, just maybe, Nemuri was right this time. After all, he didn’t need approval for doing the right thing. But that didn’t mean he was against people appreciating it. )
