Izuku's eyes opened at 5:47 AM, thirteen minutes before his alarm was set to go off.
Ten years of waking with the sun had programmed his body to rise early, and no amount of curtains or alarm clocks was going to change that anytime soon. He lay on the floor for a moment, staring at his ceiling in the pre-dawn darkness, letting his mind catch up with his body.
Today was his first day of school.
Actually going to classes. Sitting at a desk. Learning alongside other kids his age.
His tail twitched nervously against the blanket.
"Okay," he whispered to himself. "You can do this. You've faced worse."
He stood and stretched, his joints popping as his muscles coiled and released. The movement was instinctive now checking his body for injuries, for stiffness, for anything that might slow him down during a hunt.
Except he wasn't hunting today. He was going to school.
The shower was becoming less strange each time he used it. The first few days back, he'd stood under the hot water for almost an hour, mesmerized by the sensation. Now it was part of his routine though he still preferred the water much hotter than most people could tolerate.
He carefully washed his hair, working his clawed fingers through the long green tangles. His hair had gotten so long in the jungle past his shoulders now and he still wasn't sure if he wanted to cut it or keep it. Inko said it was his choice, that she'd support whatever he wanted.
For now, he kept it.
After the shower, he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, steam fogging the edges. His reflection stared back a teenage boy with cat-like slit pupils, prominent whiskers on his cheeks, and a muscular build that came from years of survival training. He opened his mouth, examining his elongated canines. They'd grown sharper over the years, designed for tearing meat.
He grabbed his toothbrush specially ordered with a reinforced handle that could withstand his grip strength and began brushing. His mom had showed him how to be gentle around his fangs, how to get the bristles into all the necessary places despite his changed mouth structure.
It was weird, thinking about dental hygiene when for ten years he'd just rinsed his mouth in streams.
But this was part of being human again. Part of living in society.
He finished brushing, rinsed, and padded back to his room wrapped in a towel, his tail dripping water behind him. His modified school uniform was laid out on his bed where he'd carefully placed it the night before.
The white dress shirt felt restrictive as he buttoned it up, the collar especially uncomfortable against his neck. The predator part of him didn't like having his throat covered, it was a vulnerable spot, should always be exposed to feel approaching danger. But he pushed through the discomfort, tucking the shirt into his dark pants.
The pants were easier. The reinforced opening at the back allowed his tail to move freely, and the fit was good through the legs. He pulled on his socks another modern invention he was still getting used to and then his modified school shoes.
Looking in his bedroom mirror, he saw a student. A normal-ish teenage boy ready for school.
Except for the whiskers, the eyes, and the tail swishing behind him.
"Close enough," he muttered.
The smell of cooking drew him to the kitchen. Inko was already up, dressed in her work clothes, preparing breakfast. She turned when she heard him and smiled bright and genuine and still slightly teary, like she couldn't quite believe her son was really home.
"Good morning, sweetie. You look so handsome in your uniform."
"Thanks, Mom," Izuku said, feeling his cheeks warm slightly.
"Sit down. Breakfast is almost ready."
She'd prepared what had become his typical morning meal pan-seared steak, cooked rare, with a side of scrambled eggs and rice. The amount of protein would have been excessive for a normal teenager, but Izuku's changed metabolism required it. He'd learned in the jungle that if he didn't eat enough meat, he'd become sluggish, irritable the predator instincts became harder to control when he was hungry.
They ate together at the small kitchen table, Inko with her toast and tea, Izuku with his steak. He was getting better with silverware knife and fork moving more smoothly, less claw-scraping against the plate. He still occasionally gave up and used his hands, but he was learning.
"Nervous?" Inko asked gently.
"Yeah," Izuku admitted. "What if I can't keep up with the lessons? What if the other kids are scared of me? What if my instincts act up and I do something weird?"
"Then you deal with it," Inko said firmly but kindly. "You're not going to be perfect on day one, Izuku. Nobody expects that. You just do your best, and if something goes wrong, we figure it out together."
"What if I embarrass you?"
Inko reached across the table and took his clawed hand in hers. "Izuku Midoriya, you listen to me. You could never embarrass me. You're my son, and I'm proud of you no matter what. You survived ten years in hell and came back still wanting to help people, still wanting to be a hero. That's not embarrassing. That's incredible."
Izuku felt his throat tighten. "Thanks, Mom."
"Now finish your breakfast. We need to do something about your hair before you go."
After eating, Izuku sat on the couch while Inko stood behind him with a brush, working through his long green hair with patient strokes.
"You know," she said softly, "I used to do this when you were little. Every morning before daycare, I'd brush your hair and you'd squirm and complain that it took too long."
"I don't remember that," Izuku admitted.
"You were very young. Only three, ." Her voice caught slightly. "I thought I'd never get to do this again. Never get to help you get ready for school, never get to make you breakfast, never get to be your mom in all the little normal ways."
"You never stopped being my mom," Izuku said quietly. "Even when I was gone. Even when I couldn't remember what you looked like or what your voice sounded like. I knew I had a mom somewhere who loved me. That kept me going."
Inko's hands paused in his hair, and he felt a warm drop hit his shoulder. A tear.
"Sorry," she said, her voice thick. "I'm just I'm so happy you're home. And I'm so proud you're doing this. Going to school, trying to have a normal life again."
"It's not going to be normal," Izuku said honestly. "I'm never going to be a normal kid."
"No," Inko agreed, resuming brushing. "But you can have pieces of normal. School, friends, homework, all the regular teenage things. Mixed in with the extraordinary parts of who you are now."
She worked his hair into a neat ponytail at the base of his neck, securing it with a hair tie. "There. Now you look very professional. Very scholarly."
Izuku touched the ponytail, feeling the unfamiliar weight of gathered hair. "Thanks, Mom."
"Do you have everything? Notebooks, pencils, your schedule?"
"Yeah, it's all in my backpack."
"And your phone? In case you need to call me?"
"Got it."
Inko came around the couch to face him, her hands on his shoulders. "Okay. Last-minute reminders. If you get overwhelmed by the crowds or the noise, ask to step outside for a minute. If the lessons move too fast, ask the teacher for help. If anyone gives you trouble about how you look, report it to Principal Kobayashi. And if everything becomes too much"
"Call you, and you'll come get me," Izuku finished. "I know, Mom. We went over this last night."
"I know, I just" She cupped his face, looking into his cat-like eyes. "I just got you back. I want to make sure you're okay."
"I will be," Izuku said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "I've got this."
"You do," Inko agreed. "You really do." She glanced at the clock. "You should leave soon. Don't want to be late on your first day."
Izuku stood, grabbing his backpack and adjusting it so his tail could move freely. He looked at himself one more time in the hallway mirror student uniform, neat ponytail, backpack. He looked like he belonged in a school.
Almost.
"Okay," he said, more to himself than to Inko. "Time to go."
Inko walked him to the door, and before he could leave, she pulled him into a tight hug. "I love you so much. Have a good day. Learn lots. Make friends. Be safe."
"I will. Love you too, Mom."
He stepped out into the hallway, and Inko stood in the doorway watching as he walked toward the stairs.
"Izuku?"
He turned back.
"I'm proud of you."
Izuku smiled genuinely smiled and nodded. Then he headed down the stairs and out into the early morning, where the sun was just starting to paint the sky pink and gold.
His first day of school awaited.
And despite his nerves, despite his fears, despite everything he'd been through he was ready.
The walk to Aldera Junior High took exactly eighteen minutes. Izuku knew because he'd timed it, his enhanced senses automatically tracking distance, time, and potential threats along the route. Old habits from the jungle died hard.
The school was already bustling with activity when he arrived. Students milled around the courtyard in clusters, chatting and laughing with the easy comfort of kids who'd known each other for years. A few heads turned as Izuku passed through the gates, eyes widening at the sight of his whiskers, his cat-like pupils, his tail swishing behind him.
He heard the whispers quick, hushed, curious.
"Is that the new kid?"
"Look at his eyes..."
"Whoa, he has a tail!"
"That's so cool."
"That's so weird."
A year ago hell, a week ago those whispers might have made Izuku want to hide, to make himself smaller, less noticeable. But as he walked across the courtyard, something strange happened.
He didn't feel small.
He felt... powerful.
His enhanced hearing picked up every heartbeat around him rapid, nervous, excited. His sense of smell detected the various emotions in the air curiosity, anxiety, a hint of fear from some. His eyes tracked every movement, cataloging faces, identifying potential threats (none), establishing the layout of the territory.
And somewhere deep in his chest, a feeling stirred warm and certain and primal. Not thoughts, not words, just pure instinct that settled into his bones like truth.
Mine. My territory. I'm safe here because I'm stronger.
It wasn't arrogance. It wasn't cruelty. It was just... fact. The same way he'd known which trees were safe to climb, which water was safe to drink, which prey he could catch. His instincts assessed the environment and reached a simple conclusion.
He was the apex here.
The feeling didn't demand anything from him, didn't make him want to hurt anyone. It just existed, solid and comforting, like standing on high ground with a clear view of everything below.
"Izuku!"
He turned to see Kaito waving from near the entrance, Yuki and Hana beside him. His pack. The feeling shifted immediately not dominance, but belonging. Safety in numbers. Equals who understood.
"Ready for this?" Kaito asked as Izuku joined them.
"As ready as I'll ever be," Izuku replied, adjusting his backpack.
"First period is homeroom," Yuki said, checking her schedule. "Room 2-B. We're all in the same class."
"Principal Kobayashi came through," Hana added quietly.
They walked into the building together, navigating the crowded hallways. More stares, more whispers, but also more curiosity than fear. That was good.
Room 2-B was on the second floor, a standard classroom with rows of desks facing a blackboard. About twenty students were already there, talking in small groups. When the four of them entered, conversation dimmed noticeably.
Izuku's eyes swept the room automatically exits one door, three windows, potential threats none, pack members' positions Kaito near the back, Yuki by the window, Hana toward the middle. His tail swished once, and he selected a seat near the middle-right side of the room where he'd have good sightlines to everything.
The other students were watching them with poorly concealed interest. A boy with blue hair leaned over to whisper to his neighbor. A girl with pink skin a mutation-type Quirk smiled tentatively at Hana, who gave a small nod back.
At exactly 8:30 AM, the door opened and a teacher walked in a man in his forties with tired eyes and graying hair at his temples. He set his briefcase down on the desk and surveyed the class.
"Alright, settle down," he said, his voice carrying authority without being loud. "I'm Mr. Yamada, and I'll be your homeroom teacher for the rest of the year. I know we're starting mid-year, which is unusual, but we're also adding some new students to our roster, which is why we're all here together today."
His eyes found Izuku, then Kaito, Yuki, and Hana. "We have four new students joining us from special circumstances. They'll be catching up on some material, so I expect all of you to be welcoming and helpful. No exceptions. Understood?
A chorus of "Yes, Mr. Yamada" rippled through the class.
"Good. Now, I'd like each of our new students to come up and introduce themselves to the class. Let's start with..." He consulted his roster. "Izuku Midoriya."
Izuku stood, and every eye in the room turned to him.
He walked to the front of the class, his movements fluid and controlled. As he turned to face his new classmates, that feeling from the courtyard returned stronger now, more focused.
Standing elevated. All eyes on him. Every heartbeat in the room steady or quickening with attention.
The sensation bloomed in his chest not aggressive, not threatening, just absolutely certain.
I'm the strongest one here. They know it. I know it. This is my space now.
It felt good. Natural. Right.
He wasn't nervous. Nervousness was for prey, for the uncertain, for those who didn't know their place in the hierarchy.
Izuku knew exactly where he stood.
"I'm Izuku Midoriya," he said, his voice clear and steady, projecting to the back of the room without effort. No hesitation. No stammering. Just pure, controlled confidence. "I'm fourteen years old, and I've been gone for the past ten years due to circumstances beyond my control."
His cat-like eyes swept across the class, making eye contact with several students who quickly looked away. Good. They understood the hierarchy instinctively.
"I know I look different," Izuku continued, gesturing casually to his whiskers, his tail. "I have a mutation-type Quirk that affects my appearance and abilities. I'm still learning to navigate regular society again, so if I do something strange or don't understand something that seems obvious, it's not because I'm stupid it's because I'm adapting."
His tail swished behind him, a natural, confident movement.
"I'm here because I want to learn, and eventually, I want to become a hero. I'll work hard, I'll catch up on anything I've missed, and I'll do whatever it takes to reach my goal." His voice dropped slightly, becoming more intense. "I don't fail at things I commit to. That's not who I am."
The class was silent, captivated. Even Mr. Yamada looked slightly impressed.
"My friends and I" Izuku gestured to Kaito, Yuki, and Hana, "we've been through a lot together. We watch each other's backs. We're a team. But we're also here to be part of this class, this school, this community. So..." His expression softened slightly, became more approachable while maintaining that underlying confidence. "I'm looking forward to getting to know all of you."
He gave a slight nod almost like a bow, but briefer, more self-assured and returned to his seat.
The walk back felt different than the walk up. He could feel the shift in the room's energy. Respect. Curiosity. A hint of intimidation from some, admiration from others.
He'd established himself. Not through force or intimidation, just through presence. Through being exactly what he was.
That warm, certain feeling in his chest settled contentedly.
Kaito caught his eye and gave him a subtle thumbs up, a grin on his furred face. Yuki's expression was approving. Hana's compound eyes reflected something like pride.
Mr. Yamada cleared his throat. "Thank you, Midoriya. That was... very well done." He consulted his roster. "Next, Kaito Saruwatari."
As Kaito stood and made his way to the front, Izuku settled into his seat, his tail curling comfortably around the chair leg.
Kaito's introduction was predictably energetic. He bounced up to the front of the class with that loping gait that came from his ape-like physiology, his furred arms swinging naturally at his sides.
"Yo! I'm Kaito Saruwatari!" He grinned, showing his pronounced canines. "I'm fifteen, and yeah, I've got monkey stuff going on. Super strength, can climb anything, and I'm basically impossible to beat in arm wrestling." He flexed, and several students laughed not meanly, but genuinely amused.
"I was in the same program as Izuku for ten years. We survived together, and now we're gonna learn together and eventually become heroes together. I'm loud, I'm friendly, and I'm always down to help if someone needs it. Oh, and if you bring bananas for lunch, I'm probably gonna ask if I can have one. Just warning you now."
More laughter. Kaito had that effect on people his natural charisma and humor made him immediately likeable.
He returned to his seat with a theatrical bow, and Izuku caught his eye. Kaito winked.
Mr. Yamada called Yuki next.
She stood with ethereal grace, her wings shifting slightly as she walked to the front. The sunlight from the windows caught her silver feathers, making them shimmer. Several students gasped softly at the sight.
"I'm Yuki Takami," she said, her voice soft but clear. "I'm fourteen. My abilities are bird-related I can fly, I have enhanced vision, and I'm most comfortable in high places." She spread her wings slightly, demonstrating. "I know I look different, and I understand if that makes some of you uncomfortable. I'm still learning how to navigate human spaces again."
Her golden eyes swept across the class, but there was no challenge in them just honest vulnerability mixed with quiet strength.
"I want to become a hero because I understand what it's like to feel trapped, to feel powerless. I want to help others who feel that way. And..." She paused, a small smile touching her lips. "I'm looking forward to having friends who aren't predatory birds."
That got some chuckles, and Yuki's expression relaxed slightly. She folded her wings and returned to her seat by the window, where she could keep an eye on the sky old habits.
Finally, Mr. Yamada called on Hana.
The smallest of their group stood and made her way to the front, several spiders visible in her dark hair. A few students leaned back slightly in their seats spiders tended to make people nervous.
"I'm Hana Mushi," she said quietly, her compound eyes scanning the room with that unnerving ability to see everything at once. "I'm thirteen. My abilities are insect-based, specifically spiders. I can produce silk, I have enhanced strength and senses, and I can communicate with arachnids."
She gestured to the spiders in her hair. "These are my friends. They won't hurt anyone unless I'm in danger, so there's no need to be afraid of them. They're actually quite helpful they keep the classroom free of actual pests."
A girl in the front row who'd been eyeing the spiders nervously relaxed slightly at that.
"I want to be a hero because I've seen what happens when people are used as tools instead of treated as human beings. I want to make sure no one else goes through what we did." Her voice was soft but carried steel underneath. "And I'm very patient, so if anyone needs help catching up on work or understanding something, I'm happy to explain it."
She gave a small, shy smile and returned to her seat.
Mr. Yamada nodded approvingly. "Thank you all for those introductions. I expect everyone in this class to treat our new students with respect and kindness. They've been through extraordinary circumstances, and they're here to learn just like the rest of you."
He picked up a piece of chalk. "Now, let's discuss the schedule and expectations for the rest of the term..."
After homeroom, Izuku and his friends split up for their first actual classes. The schedule had been arranged so they'd have some classes together and some separate Principal Kobayashi's way of helping them integrate while also letting them maintain their support system.
Izuku's first period was Mathematics with Ms. Tanaka no relation to Dr. Tanaka, apparently. The classroom was on the third floor, and Izuku found himself sitting near the back, next to a boy with dark hair and a nervous energy who'd introduced himself as Sato.
"Your Quirk looks really strong," Sato had whispered before class started, eyeing Izuku's claws with a mix of awe and nervousness.
Izuku had just nodded, unsure how to respond.
Ms. Tanaka was a middle-aged woman with sharp eyes and a no-nonsense demeanor. She wrote a series of algebraic equations on the board and turned to face the class.
"Today we're reviewing quadratic equations. This is foundational material you'll need for your high school entrance exams, so I expect everyone to pay attention."
Izuku stared at the symbols on the board. He recognized numbers, obviously. But the letters mixed in with them, the strange symbols, the way they were arranged...
He had no idea what any of it meant.
His enhanced vision could see every detail of the chalk marks. His enhanced hearing picked up Ms. Tanaka's explanation perfectly. But understanding? That was a different matter entirely.
"Now, who can tell me what X equals in this equation?"
Hands shot up around the room. Sato beside him was scribbling notes furiously. A girl in the front was already raising her hand with the answer.
Izuku felt a flutter of something unfamiliar in his chest. Not the warm certainty from before. This was different. Uncomfortable.
He didn't know the answer. He couldn't even begin to figure it out.
For the first time since arriving at school, that feeling of being apex predator wavered. In the jungle, he'd always known what to do. Track the prey. Avoid the danger. Find the water. Climb the tree.
Here, faced with numbers and letters arranged in ways that made no sense, he felt... lost.
Ms. Tanaka called on the girl in front, who correctly solved the equation. Then she wrote another one.
"Let's try another. This time, I want everyone to solve it in their notebooks. You have three minutes."
The scratching of pencils filled the room. Izuku stared at his blank notebook, then at the equation on the board.
X² + 5X + 6 = 0
What did that even mean? How did you make X equal something when it was already in an equation? And why was there a tiny number next to the first X?
Three minutes passed. Ms. Tanaka asked several students to share their answers. They were all correct X equals -2 or -3, apparently.
Izuku had nothing written in his notebook.
"Midoriya," Ms. Tanaka said, and Izuku's head snapped up. "Did you solve the equation?"
Twenty pairs of eyes turned to him. The weight of their attention was different from before. Before, in homeroom, it had felt natural to be the center of focus. Now, it felt exposing.
"No, ma'am," Izuku said honestly. "I... I don't understand how to solve it."
A few students glanced at each other. Not meanly, just... noticing. The new kid couldn't do the math.
Ms. Tanaka's expression softened slightly. "Principal Kobayashi mentioned you'd have gaps in your education. Come see me after class we'll set up some tutoring to get you caught up on the basics."
"Yes, ma'am."
The class moved on. More equations. More problems Izuku couldn't solve. He tried to follow along, tried to understand Ms. Tanaka's explanations, but it was like listening to a foreign language.
By the time class ended, Izuku felt mentally exhausted in a way that hunting for twelve hours straight had never made him feel.
"Hey, don't feel bad," Sato said as they packed up. "Math is really hard. I barely passed last year myself."
"Thanks," Izuku said, appreciating the attempt at comfort even if it didn't really help.
As promised, he stayed behind while the other students filed out.
Ms. Tanaka gestured for him to approach her desk. "Midoriya, I'm not going to sugarcoat this you're significantly behind in mathematics. But that doesn't mean you can't catch up. It just means you'll need to work harder than most students."
"I can work hard," Izuku said firmly. "I'm not afraid of that."
"Good. I'm going to give you some foundational materials to study basic algebra, how equations work, the fundamentals you should have learned in elementary school. Study them at home, and come to my tutoring sessions on Tuesdays and Thursdays after school. Between that and regular classwork, you should be able to catch up within a few months."
"A few months?" Izuku asked, his tail drooping slightly.
"Maybe less if you're a fast learner," Ms. Tanaka said. "But Midoriya " She looked at him seriously. "This is going to be hard. You'll be learning ten years of material in a compressed timeframe. There will be times when you feel overwhelmed, when you want to give up. Don't. Keep pushing. I've seen your type before survivors, fighters. You have the determination. You just need to apply it here."
Izuku straightened, that feeling of certainty returning to his chest. "I will. I won't give up."
"I believe you." She handed him a packet of papers. "Start with these. We'll review them on Tuesday."
Izuku took the packet and headed to his next class, his mind churning. He'd felt so confident this morning, so sure of his place. And he still was physically, socially, he knew he could handle himself.
Izuku's second period was Japanese Literature, and to his relief, Kaito was in this class with him.
They sat near each other as the teacher, Mr. Hayashi an elderly man with kind eyes and a gentle voice handed out copies of a short story they'd be reading together.
"Today we're analyzing 'The Spider's Thread' by Ryunosuke Akutagawa," Mr. Hayashi announced. "Please turn to page three and we'll begin reading aloud."
Izuku stared at the page. The characters swam before his eyes hiragana, katakana, and kanji all mixed together. He could recognize some of the simpler characters, could sound out a few words, but full sentences? Paragraphs? It might as well have been a completely foreign language.
Mr. Hayashi called on students to read sections aloud. Each one read smoothly, their voices confident. The story was about a criminal in hell who sees a spider's thread descending from paradise.
When it was Izuku's turn, he tried. He really did.
"Ka... Kanda... Kandata wa" He stumbled over the main character's name, his enhanced vision able to see every stroke of the kanji but his brain unable to process what it meant. "Jigo no... Jigoku no... sorry, I don't know this word."
"Jigoku no soko," Mr. Hayashi said gently. "The bottom of hell. Take your time, Midoriya."
But Izuku couldn't. The more he tried to read, the more the characters seemed to blur together, his frustration mounting. Finally, he stopped, his tail lashing anxiously behind him.
"I'm sorry, sir. I can't read this."
"That's alright," Mr. Hayashi said, his voice carrying no judgment. "Kaito, would you continue from there?"
Kaito glanced at Izuku with concern, then began reading. His reading was slow and careful, but he could do it. He'd retained more of his literacy than Izuku had.
After class, Mr. Hayashi asked Izuku to stay behind.
"Midoriya, I understand you have significant gaps in your reading ability. I'm not going to put you on the spot like that again it's not fair to you or productive for your learning. Instead, I'd like you to work with our reading specialist, Mrs. Kojima. She helps students who struggle with literacy, for various reasons."
"Another tutor," Izuku said, not bitterly, just stating fact.
"Yes. Learning to read properly is fundamental to everything else math, science, history, all of it requires reading comprehension. Get your reading up to grade level, and everything else will become easier." Mr. Hayashi handed him a note. "Take this to Mrs. Kojima's office during lunch. She'll assess your current level and set up a schedule."
"During lunch?" Izuku's tail drooped. That was when he was supposed to meet his pack.
"I know it's not ideal, but the sooner we address this, the better. You can eat while you meet with her she won't mind."
Izuku took the note, feeling that uncomfortable flutter in his chest again. Not fear. Not quite. Just... inadequacy. Something he'd never felt in the jungle.
Science was taught by Ms. Aoki, a young teacher with purple hair and an infectious enthusiasm for biology. When Izuku entered, he saw Yuki already sitting by the window, her wings folded neatly against her back.
He sat beside her, grateful to have a pack member nearby.
"How's your morning been?" Yuki asked quietly as other students filed in.
"Hard," Izuku admitted. "I can't do the math. I can barely read. I feel like I'm drowning."
"Same," Yuki said, surprising him. "I had English first period. Couldn't understand anything. The alphabet I can do, but grammar? Sentence structure? I've forgotten all of it."
"At least we're struggling together," Izuku said with a weak smile.
Ms. Aoki started the class with genuine excitement. "Today we're beginning our unit on ecosystems and predator-prey relationships! This is fascinating stuff the way different species interact, compete, and depend on each other for survival."
For the first time that day, Izuku felt something click.
Predator-prey relationships. Competition. Survival.
This, he understood.
Ms. Aoki pulled up a diagram showing a food chain plants, herbivores, carnivores, apex predators. She explained energy transfer, population dynamics, the delicate balance of ecosystems.
Izuku's hand went up before he realized he was raising it.
"Yes, Midoriya?"
"The balance isn't always delicate though," Izuku said. "Sometimes if there are too many predators, they'll hunt the prey population down until there's not enough food, and then the predators start dying off too. But that creates space for the prey to recover, and then the predators come back. It's more like a cycle than a balance."
Ms. Aoki's eyebrows rose. "That's... exactly right. That's called population oscillation. Have you studied this before?"
"No," Izuku said. "I just... lived it. Observed it. In the wild."
"Fascinating." Ms. Aoki's expression shifted from teacher to genuinely curious scientist. "Can you give me an example?"
Izuku thought back to the jungle. "There was an area near where I lived a clearing with lots of rabbits. Good hunting ground. But after a few years, there were too many predators using it. Tigers, wildcats, even some of the larger birds. The rabbit population crashed. Most of the predators left to find better hunting grounds. Then the rabbits came back, slowly. And eventually, so did some of the predators. It took about two years for the cycle to complete."
The class was silent, listening. Even the students who'd been whispering had stopped.
"You observed a complete predator-prey cycle in real time," Ms. Aoki said, awe in her voice. "Most ecologists only see that in long-term data studies. You lived it."
"I guess," Izuku said, feeling slightly self-conscious now that everyone was staring again.
"This is incredible," Ms. Aoki continued. "Midoriya, would you be willing to share more observations throughout this unit? Your firsthand experience could really help the class understand these concepts."
"Sure," Izuku said, and that warm feeling in his chest returned. Here, in this subject, he wasn't lost. He was the expert.
The rest of the period flew by. Ms. Aoki asked about territorial behavior, hunting strategies, seasonal changes in animal behavior. Izuku answered every question, drawing on ten years of observation and experience.
When class ended, several students approached him.
"That was so cool," a girl with pink skin said. "You really lived in the wild?"
"For ten years," Izuku confirmed.
"What was it like? Were you scared?"
"At first," Izuku admitted. "But you adapt. Learn the patterns. Respect the danger but don't let it control you."
Yuki watched the exchange with a small smile. When the other students left, she leaned over. "You're good at this. Teaching, I mean. Explaining things."
"Only things I actually understand," Izuku said. "Which apparently is just... survival and hunting."
"That's more than most people understand," Yuki pointed out. "And Ms. Aoki was right your experience is valuable. Just in different ways than math or reading."
"Doesn't help me pass the entrance exams though."
"No," Yuki agreed. "But it reminds you that you're not stupid. You're just learning different things at different speeds."
Izuku nodded, appreciating her perspective. At least in science, he had a place. A way to contribute.
Instead of going to the cafeteria with his friends, Izuku followed the note's directions to Mrs. Kojima's office. It was a small room filled with books, comfortable chairs, and educational posters.
Mrs. Kojima was a woman in her thirties with warm eyes and a patient demeanor. She gestured for him to sit.
"You must be Izuku. Mr. Hayashi told me about you. Brought your lunch?"
Izuku held up the bento his mother had packed mostly meat, some rice, all things he could eat with his hands if needed.
"Good. Eat while we talk." She pulled out some assessment materials. "I'm going to have you read a few passages for me, at different levels. I need to figure out where you're at so we can build from there. Sound okay?"
"Yeah," Izuku said, though his tail betrayed his nervousness, swishing anxiously.
The assessment was humbling. Mrs. Kojima started with middle school level passages he couldn't read most of it. She moved down to elementary school level. Still struggled. Finally, she pulled out what looked like children's books.
"Read this one for me."
It was a simple story about a dog and a cat. Izuku managed it, slowly, stumbling over words but getting through it.
"Okay," Mrs. Kojima said, making notes. "You're reading at about a second-grade level. Maybe third for some material. That's actually not as bad as it could be you retained some fundamentals."
"Second grade," Izuku repeated, the words tasting bitter. "I'm fourteen and I read like a seven-year-old."
"You're fourteen and you survived something no seven-year-old could survive," Mrs. Kojima corrected gently but firmly. "Reading level doesn't measure intelligence or capability. It measures exposure and practice. You've had neither for a decade. So we fix it."
"How long will it take?"
"That depends on you. How much time can you dedicate to this? How hard are you willing to work?"
"As hard as necessary," Izuku said without hesitation.
Mrs. Kojima smiled. "Then we'll get you caught up faster than you think. I want you here every lunch period for the next month. We'll work on phonics, sight words, comprehension the building blocks. You'll also get reading homework every night. Thirty minutes minimum."
"I can do more than thirty minutes."
"Let's start there and see how you do. Reading requires focus and mental stamina. You'll be surprised how tiring it is at first."
They spent the rest of lunch working through basic exercises. By the time Izuku left for his next class, his head was spinning with vowel sounds and consonant blends, but he felt... determined.
The rest of the day was a blur of new information, most of which Izuku couldn't fully process.
History class was particularly brutal he couldn't read the textbook well enough to follow along, so he tried to take notes on the teacher's lecture, but his writing was slow and childish-looking. A boy behind him snickered at his handwriting, and Izuku's claws extended involuntarily before he forced them to retract.
Not a threat. Just ignorant. Not worth responding to.
Physical Education was better. The teacher, Coach Ito, had them running laps and doing basic exercises. Here, Izuku excelled. While other students panted and struggled, Izuku barely broke a sweat. His enhanced stamina meant the workout felt more like a warm-up.
"Midoriya!" Coach Ito called as Izuku finished his fifth lap while most students were still on their second. "Save some energy for the rest of us!"
But there was admiration in his voice, not criticism.
The final period was English another language-based class where Izuku struggled. At least Kaito and Hana were in this one, providing moral support through shared confusion.
When the final bell rang, Izuku felt exhausted in a completely new way. Not physically his body felt fine. But mentally, emotionally, he was drained.
He gathered his things and headed to the front gates where he'd told his mother he'd meet her.
The courtyard was full of students heading home, chatting and laughing. Izuku wove through them, his enhanced senses picking up fragments of conversations:
"did you see that new kid's tail"
"heard he lived in the jungle or something"
"he's kind of scary looking but also"
"totally aced that science discussion though"
Mixed reactions. Some fear, some curiosity, some admiration. That was okay. He hadn't expected everyone to accept him immediately.
He spotted his pack gathered near the gates Kaito, Yuki, and Hana, comparing notes on their first day.
"Izuku!" Kaito called, waving. "Survived day one!"
"Barely," Izuku said, but he was smiling. "That was exhausting."
"Tell me about it," Hana said. "I have so much homework I don't understand."
"Same," Yuki added. "Want to meet at the warehouse this weekend? We could help each other figure it out."
"Definitely," Izuku agreed.
Inko appeared then, her face lighting up when she saw him. "Izuku! How was it? Tell me everything!"
As they walked home together, Izuku recounted his day the struggles in math and literature, the success in science, the reading assessment, the physical education triumph. Inko listened to all of it, her expression shifting from concern to pride and back again.
"It sounds like a very mixed day," she said finally.
"It was," Izuku agreed. "I'm way behind in most subjects. I'm going to need tutoring in math, reading help during lunch, and probably more support in other classes too."
"We'll make it work," Inko said firmly. "Whatever you need. Tutors, materials, time we'll figure it out."
"Thanks, Mom."
They walked in comfortable silence for a moment, then Inko asked, "Are you glad you went? Or do you regret it?"
Izuku thought about it. The frustration of not understanding math. The embarrassment of stumbling through reading. But also the warmth of having his pack nearby. The success in science class. The feeling of being part of something normal.
"I'm glad," he said finally. "It was hard. Really hard. But I think... I think I can do this. With time."
"I know you can," Inko said, squeezing his hand. "You're the strongest person I know, Izuku. Not because of your Quirk or your abilities. Because of your heart. You never give up."
Izuku squeezed back, the tiger's claw warm against his chest.
One day down. Many more to come.
But he'd face them the same way he'd faced everything else one step at a time, with determination and his pack beside him.
Two Weeks Later
The first two weeks of school passed in a grueling blur of classes, tutoring sessions, and homework that took twice as long as it should have.
Izuku fell into a routine, though it was exhausting.
Wake at dawn. Shower. Breakfast with Mom. Walk to school. Homeroom. First period math stumbling through problems he barely understood. Second period literature slowly improving but still struggling. Third period science his one class where he felt confident. Lunch with Mrs. Kojima instead of his pack, working through children's books and phonics exercises.
Afternoon classes. PE, where he continued to excel. History and English, where he continued to struggle. After school tutoring with Ms. Tanaka on Tuesdays and Thursdays, working through basic algebra that should have been simple but felt like climbing a mountain.
Home. Dinner with Mom. Homework until his eyes burned and his claws ached from gripping the pencil. Thirty minutes of reading practice that often stretched to an hour because he refused to stop until he finished the assigned passage.
Sleep on his floor. Wake up. Repeat.
His pack had it similar all of them struggling with academics, all of them attending various tutoring sessions, all of them exhausted. They met at the warehouse on weekends, ostensibly to help each other with homework but often just to decompress, to be themselves without the pressure of pretending to be normal students.
Monday Morning
Izuku's eyes opened at 5:47 AM, exactly as they had every morning for the past two weeks. His body refused to adjust to sleeping later, no matter how tired he was.
He stretched on his floor, joints popping, then made his way to the bathroom. The shower routine was automatic now hot water, careful washing around his whiskers and tail, working shampoo through his long hair.
After drying off, he brushed his teeth with the reinforced toothbrush, careful around his fangs. His reflection in the mirror showed the same cat-like features, but he looked less wild now. More groomed. More... civilized.
He dressed in his modified uniform, the routine motions faster than they'd been two weeks ago. The shirt still felt restrictive around his neck, but he'd learned to ignore the discomfort. The pants allowed his tail to move freely, and he'd gotten better at keeping it still during class instead of letting it betray his emotions.
In the kitchen, Inko was already preparing his breakfast—pan-seared steak and eggs, the protein-heavy meal his body required.
"Morning, sweetie," she said with a warm smile. "Sleep well?"
"Same as always," Izuku said, sliding into his chair. "Mom, can I ask you something?"
"Of course. What is it?"
Izuku had been thinking about this for days, the question gnawing at him during late-night homework sessions. "The UA entrance exam... how close is it? When does it happen?"
Inko paused in her cooking, then set down her spatula and turned to face him. "The exam is in February. For students entering high school the following April." She looked at him carefully. "Why do you ask?"
"That's in six months," Izuku said, his claws unconsciously extending slightly before he retracted them. "Six months from now, I need to be ready to compete with kids who've been training their whole lives. Kids who didn't lose ten years of education."
"Izuku"
"I'm not complaining," he said quickly. "I'm just... I'm trying to figure out if it's even possible. I can barely read at a fourth-grade level. My math is maybe fifth grade on a good day. And UA is the best hero school in Japan. They don't accept mediocre students."
Inko came over and sat across from him, taking his clawed hand in hers. "You're right. UA has incredibly high standards. The entrance exam is notoriously difficult both the written portion and the practical."
"So I'm too far behind," Izuku said, that uncomfortable feeling settling in his chest.
"I didn't say that." Inko squeezed his hand. "You've made incredible progress in two weeks, Izuku. Your teachers have told me you're one of the hardest-working students they've ever seen. If you keep improving at this rate, by February you might be at grade level. Maybe not perfect, but close enough."
"Close enough doesn't get you into UA."
"No, but your practical skills might." Inko's expression became more serious. "The entrance exam has two parts. Yes, there's a written test on academics and hero theory. But there's also a practical exam where students use their Quirks to fight villain robots. That's where you'd excel, Izuku. Your strength, your speed, your instincts you have advantages most students don't."
Izuku thought about that. The physical portion would be easy for him. Fighting, hunting, taking down targets that was what he'd been trained to do for ten years.
"What if I fail the written part but ace the practical?" he asked.
"Then it depends on how UA weights the scores," Inko said. "But Izuku, I've been looking into it. UA doesn't just look at test scores. They look at potential, at determination, at the qualities that make someone a hero. Your story what you survived, how you've fought to rebuild your life that matters. That shows character."
"Maybe," Izuku said, still uncertain.
"Six months," Inko repeated. "That's six months of continued tutoring, studying, training. You've already proven you can improve faster than anyone expected. And you have your friends all of you pushing toward the same goal. You're not doing this alone."
Izuku looked at his mother, at the belief shining in her eyes. She'd never stopped believing in him, not in ten years.
"Okay," he said, feeling that warm certainty settle in his chest. Not the predator instinct, but something else determination. "Six months. I'll work as hard as I need to. I'll catch up on academics, I'll train physically, I'll do whatever it takes."
"That's my boy," Inko said, smiling. "Now eat your breakfast. You'll need your strength."
As Izuku ate, his mind was already racing with plans. Six months to prepare for UA. Six months to prove he belonged there. Six months to show the world that what Project Primal created wasn't a weapon it was a hero.
Izuku said goodbye to his mother at the apartment door and started his twenty-minute walk to Aldera Junior High. The morning air was cool and crisp, the city just beginning to wake up around him.
But his mind was elsewhere, churning through calculations and plans.
Six months. February. The UA entrance exam.
His enhanced senses tracked everything around him automatically the footsteps of other early risers, the sound of cars starting, the smell of breakfast cooking in nearby apartments. But his thoughts were focused inward.
Six months to get my reading to grade level. Six months to master math I should have learned years ago. Six months to catch up on history, science, English...
It felt overwhelming when he listed it all out like that. But his mother was right—he'd been improving faster than anyone expected. Two weeks and he'd jumped two grade levels in reading. If he kept that pace, if he pushed even harder...
Maybe I can do this.
But then there was the practical exam. Fighting robots. Using his Quirk or whatever these abilities were classified as in combat scenarios. That should be easy for him. Ten years of hunting had made him strong, fast, tactical. He knew how to read opponents, how to exploit weaknesses, how to strike efficiently.
But he'd also been living a relatively normal life for two weeks now. Sitting in classrooms. Walking to school. Doing homework. No hunting. No climbing. No real physical challenge beyond PE class, which barely made him break a sweat.
I'm getting soft.
The thought hit him hard, that warm certainty in his chest flickering with unease. In the jungle, he'd been constantly active hunting, training with the tiger, climbing, running, fighting for survival. His body had been a weapon honed by necessity.
Now? He was a student who sat at a desk most of the day.
If he wanted to pass UA's practical exam, if he wanted to compete with kids who'd been training their Quirks since they manifested, he couldn't afford to get comfortable. He couldn't let his edge dull.
I need to train. Really train. Not just survive push myself like the tiger pushed me.
By the time he reached Aldera's gates, Izuku had made a decision. School was important critical, even. He had to catch up academically. But he also had to maintain his physical abilities. Sharpen them. Make himself even stronger than he'd been in the jungle.
He'd need to do both. Study harder than anyone else AND train harder than anyone else.
Most students would burn out trying. But Izuku had survived ten years in hell. He could handle six months of intense preparation.
The day passed in its now-familiar rhythm. Math class where he struggled but understood more than he had last week. Literature where he stumbled through reading but finished the passage. Science where he excelled, contributing to discussions about animal behavior with firsthand knowledge.
Lunch with Mrs. Kojima, working through reading exercises. His tongue tripped over words less frequently now. The letters were starting to make sense, forming patterns his brain recognized.
Afternoon classes. History, where he took notes in his still-childish handwriting but managed to follow the lecture. PE, where Coach Ito had them doing relay races and Izuku finished so far ahead of everyone else that the coach just shook his head in amazement. English, where Kaito helped him with pronunciation.
After school, he met with Ms. Tanaka for his Tuesday tutoring session. They worked through algebraic equations, and for the first time, Izuku solved three problems in a row without help.
"Excellent work, Midoriya," Ms. Tanaka said, genuine pride in her voice. "You're catching on faster than I expected. Keep this up and you'll be ready for the entrance exams."
"That's the plan," Izuku said, his tail swishing with satisfaction.
But as he walked home, his mind returned to the physical preparation. The academic work was progressing slowly, but progressing. Now he needed to address the other half of the equation.
Izuku arrived home to find his mother preparing dinner more steak for him, along with rice and vegetables. The apartment smelled like home, safe and warm.
"How was school?" Inko asked as he set down his backpack.
"Good. Ms. Tanaka said I'm improving faster than expected." Izuku paused, gathering his thoughts. "Mom, can I ask you for something?"
"Of course, sweetie. What do you need?"
"Weights," Izuku said. "For training. I want to buy some weights dumbbells, maybe a weighted vest or ankle weights. Things I can use to keep training physically while I'm focusing on schoolwork."
Inko turned from the stove, her expression thoughtful. "You're worried about the practical exam."
"Not worried exactly," Izuku said, sitting at the kitchen table. "I know I can fight. I know I'm strong and fast. But I've been living a normal life for two weeks now. Sitting in classrooms, walking at normal speeds, not hunting or climbing or really pushing myself. I can feel myself getting... comfortable."
"And comfortable isn't what you need for UA," Inko finished.
"Yeah. I need to keep sharp. In the jungle, every day was training climbing trees, chasing prey, fighting to survive. Now I sit at a desk for six hours. I need to make up for that somehow."
Inko considered this, her expression shifting from concern to understanding. "You want to train at home. In addition to all your schoolwork and tutoring."
"I know it's a lot," Izuku said quickly. "But I can handle it. I've done harder. And if I'm going to get into UA, I need to be the best version of myself academically AND physically. I can't let one slip while I focus on the other."
His mother was quiet for a moment, then she smiled sad but proud. "You really are determined to do this, aren't you? To become a hero."
"More than anything," Izuku said honestly. "It's all I've ever wanted. Even in the jungle, even when I thought I'd never see civilization again, I never forgot that dream. I can't give up on it now."
Inko came over and hugged him, and Izuku wrapped his arms and tail around her. "Alright," she said. "We'll get you weights. This weekend, we'll go to a sports store and get whatever you need. But Izuku" She pulled back to look at him seriously. "You have to promise me you won't push yourself too hard. You're still fourteen. You still need sleep, rest, time to just be a kid."
"I'll be careful," Izuku promised.
"And if I see you burning out if your grades drop or you're too exhausted to function we're cutting back on the training. Deal?"
"Deal."
Inko kissed his forehead. "My brave, determined boy. Sometimes I forget how strong you are. Not just physically, but up here " She tapped his head. "And here." She placed her hand over his heart, over the tiger's claw that hung there.
"I learned from the best," Izuku said, touching the claw. "The tiger never gave up. Never stopped pushing. I won't either."
"Just remember to be kind to yourself too," Inko said. "The tiger also knew when to rest."
That night, after dinner and homework and reading practice, Izuku lay on his floor thinking about his new training regimen. He'd need to figure out a schedule early morning workouts before school, maybe. Evening training after homework. Weekends with his pack at the warehouse, where they could train together.
Six months. Academic work and physical training. School and survival skills. Becoming the kind of student UA wanted AND the kind of fighter they needed.
It would be exhausting. Brutal, probably.
But he'd survived worse.
And at the end of those six months, he'd walk into that entrance exam ready to prove that Project Primal's greatest creation wasn't a weapon.
It was a hero.
Saturday Morning
The sports equipment store was overwhelming in its own way rows upon rows of gear, machines, weights, all designed to push the human body beyond its natural limits.
Izuku walked through the aisles with his mother, his enhanced senses taking in everything. The smell of rubber and metal. The sound of a treadmill running in the demo section. The sight of equipment he didn't even know how to use.
"What exactly are you looking for?" Inko asked, her hand resting on a shopping cart.
"I'm not sure," Izuku admitted. "In the jungle, I trained by... doing things. Climbing, running, hunting. I don't really know how to train with equipment."
"Can I help you folks?" A store employee approached a muscular man in his thirties with a friendly smile. "Looking for anything specific?"
"Training equipment," Inko said. "My son is preparing for hero school entrance exams. He needs something for strength and conditioning."
The employee's eyes lit up with interest, then did a double-take when he noticed Izuku's whiskers and tail. "Hero school, huh? That's impressive. What's your Quirk, kid?"
"Mutation type," Izuku said simply. "Enhanced strength, speed, reflexes. I need to maintain my physical condition while focusing on academics."
"Gotcha. So you want something versatile you can use at home?" The employee gestured for them to follow. "Let's start with the basics. Dumbbells are great you can do dozens of exercises with just a pair. What's your current strength level?"
"I don't know," Izuku said honestly. "I've never lifted weights before."
The employee led them to a rack with various dumbbells. "Try this twenty-pound one. Do a basic curl."
Izuku picked up the weight. It felt light in his hand almost negligibly so. He curled it easily, his enhanced strength making it feel like nothing.
"Okay, try this one." The employee handed him a forty-pound dumbbell.
Still easy.
"This is fifty pounds..."
Izuku lifted it with no visible strain.
The employee's eyebrows rose. "Kid, how strong are you exactly?"
"I can carry a full-grown deer over my shoulders for about a mile," Izuku said, remembering his hunts. "Maybe two hundred pounds? I've never really measured."
"Jesus," the employee muttered. "Okay, you're not starting with beginner weights. Let me show you the serious stuff."
He led them to a section with heavier equipment adjustable dumbbells that went up to seventy-five pounds each, weighted vests that could hold up to sixty pounds of plates, ankle weights designed for advanced athletes.
"For someone with your strength, you want equipment that can grow with you," the employee explained. "Adjustable dumbbells like these" He picked up a pair that could be set from five to seventy-five pounds. "You can increase the weight as you get stronger. And this weighted vest? You can start with twenty pounds and work up to sixty as it gets easier."
Izuku examined the equipment. The vest was interesting he could wear it during his morning runs, during homework even, adding constant resistance to every movement.
"I'll take the adjustable dumbbells and the weighted vest," Izuku said.
"What about ankle weights?" Inko asked. "Would those help?"
"Definitely," the employee said. "Especially if you're doing agility training. They're great for speed work and conditioning." He grabbed a set that could hold up to ten pounds per ankle. "These should work."
As they added items to the cart, the employee asked, "What about a pull-up bar? Best bodyweight exercise there is, and you can install it in a doorframe at home."
"Yes," Izuku said immediately. Pull-ups were similar to climbing he'd be good at those.
They ended up with quite a haul: adjustable dumbbells, weighted vest with extra plates, ankle weights, a pull-up bar, and a jump rope for cardio conditioning. The total made Inko wince slightly, but she pulled out her credit card without complaint.
"This is an investment in your future," she said firmly. "If you're going to do this, we're going to do it right."
As they loaded everything into the car they'd borrowed from a neighbor, Izuku felt that warm certainty building in his chest. This was real now. He had the tools. He had the determination.
Now he just needed to put in the work.
Sunday Morning
Izuku woke at 5:45 AM, two minutes before his usual time. His internal clock was impossibly precise.
He'd set up his new equipment the night before the pull-up bar installed in his doorframe, the dumbbells arranged by his window, the weighted vest hanging on a hook. Everything ready.
He strapped on the ankle weights first five pounds per ankle to start. Then the weighted vest, loaded with twenty pounds of plates. The added weight felt significant but not overwhelming. Good. Room to grow.
He started with what he knew bodyweight exercises. Push-ups first, the weighted vest adding resistance. He dropped to the floor and began, his enhanced muscles working smoothly. Twenty. Forty. Sixty. He stopped at one hundred, not because he couldn't do more, but because he needed to pace himself.
Next, pull-ups. He jumped up to grab the bar and pulled himself up smoothly. The movement was natural, similar to climbing. He did fifty without stopping, his shoulders and back barely fatigued.
Then the dumbbells. He'd set them to thirty pounds each to start light enough to practice form, heavy enough to provide resistance. Curls, shoulder presses, rows. He worked through exercises he'd seen other students do in PE, plus movements that felt natural to his body.
By 6:30, he was sweating properly for the first time in weeks, his muscles warm and engaged. It felt good. Right. Like remembering a language he'd started to forget.
"Izuku?" His mother's voice came from the hallway. "Are you exercising?"
"Yeah," he called back, setting down the dumbbells. "Sorry, did I wake you?"
Inko appeared in his doorway, already dressed for the day. "No, I was already up. I just heard the movement and wanted to check." She looked at the weights, the pull-up bar, her son standing there in shorts and a tank top, wearing a weighted vest. "You're really doing this."
"I told you I would," Izuku said.
"I know. It's just... seeing it is different." She smiled, though her eyes were slightly concerned. "How do you feel?"
"Good. Really good, actually. Like I'm remembering who I am."
"Just be careful, okay? Don't hurt yourself."
"I won't. The tiger taught me to listen to my body know the difference between good pain and bad pain."
After showering and breakfast, Izuku did his homework while still wearing the weighted vest. It was uncomfortable at first, the extra weight making it harder to sit up straight, but he adjusted. If he could study while dealing with physical strain, regular studying would feel easier by comparison.
At 2 PM, Izuku headed to the warehouse for their regular weekend meetup. He was still wearing the ankle weights under his pants they'd become background noise by now, barely noticeable.
His pack was already there, sprawled in various positions around the warehouse.
"Izuku!" Kaito called from a rafter, hanging upside down by his feet. "You're late!"
"By like two minutes," Izuku countered, but he was grinning.
"You're walking weird," Yuki observed from her perch. Her sharp eyes missed nothing. "What's wrong with your legs?"
"Ankle weights," Izuku said, pulling up his pant leg to show them. "Ten pounds total. I'm training."
That got everyone's attention.
"Training for what?" Hana asked, looking up from her web hammock.
"UA entrance exam," Izuku said. "It's in six months. I need to be ready academically and physically. I've been focusing so much on school that I'm getting soft. I need to stay sharp."
Daiki dropped down from wherever he'd been lurking, his scaled face thoughtful. "That's smart. I've been doing the same thing, actually. GED prep doesn't keep me in fighting shape."
"We should all train," Kaito said, swinging down to land beside them. "I mean, we're all planning to be heroes, right? We can't just do homework and call it good."
"I've been flying every morning," Yuki said. "Keeping my wings strong. But I could do more."
"The spiders keep me active," Hana said. "But targeted training would help."
Izuku felt that pack bond strengthening—that sense of unity and shared purpose. "What if we trained together? On weekends, instead of just doing homework, we could work on our physical abilities. Help each other get stronger."
"I like it," Daiki said. "We're already a team. Might as well train like one."
"What would we even do?" Kaito asked. "We don't have a gym or fancy equipment."
Izuku looked around the warehouse open space, high rafters, plenty of room. "We don't need fancy equipment. We have each other. Sparring. Agility drills. Strength exercises. We can push each other harder than any gym equipment could."
"Sparring?" Yuki's eyes lit up. "You mean actually fighting?"
"Controlled fighting," Izuku clarified. "No serious injuries. But testing ourselves against each other. Learning each other's strengths and weaknesses. The practical exam will have combat elements we should be ready for that."
"I'm in," Kaito said immediately. "Been wanting to test myself against you since we got out, Izuku. See if monkey beats cat."
"It doesn't," Izuku said with a slight smirk, and Kaito laughed.
"Prove it."
And just like that, their Sunday homework session became their first training session.
They started simple races across the warehouse, testing speed. Kaito won in the rafters, his ape-like agility letting him swing through obstacles. Izuku won on the ground, his feline reflexes and speed giving him the edge. Yuki dominated anything involving height, able to simply fly over obstacles. Hana surprised them all by using silk lines to create shortcuts, her lightweight body swinging through the air like a pendulum.
Then sparring. Izuku went first against Kaito.
"No claws," Kaito said, flexing his furred fingers. "I like my face."
"No problem. No going for eyes or throat either. First to yield or get pinned for five seconds wins."
They squared off in the center of the warehouse, the others forming a loose circle to watch. Izuku dropped into a stance that was more instinct than training low to the ground, weight distributed on the balls of his feet, ready to explode in any direction. His tail swayed behind him, counterbalancing, deceptive in its casual movement.
Kaito was bigger, his frame packed with dense ape muscle. He had longer reach, stronger grip, the ability to use his feet as hands. On paper, he should have the advantage.
But Izuku didn't fight on paper.
He fought like the predator the tiger had made him.
Kaito charged first, using his reach to try to grapple a smart move against a smaller opponent. But Izuku wasn't there anymore. He'd shifted laterally the instant Kaito committed to the movement, his enhanced reflexes reading the attack before it fully developed.
Kaito's hands closed on empty air.
Izuku darted in from the side, low and fast, his smaller frame letting him slip under Kaito's guard. He aimed a controlled strike at Kaito's ribs not hard enough to bruise, but enough to score a point. Then he was gone again, dancing back before Kaito could counter.
"Slippery," Kaito muttered, recalibrating. He feinted left, then drove right, trying to predict Izuku's movement.
But Izuku moved erratically, unpredictably the way the tiger had taught him. Never commit to a pattern. Never be where the prey expects. A tiger didn't charge straight at its target like a rhino. It circled, probed, struck from angles that didn't make sense until the prey was already bleeding.
Izuku's tail flicked left. Kaito tracked it, instincts following the movement. In that split-second distraction, Izuku surged forward at a different angle entirely, using his tail as a feint. He swept low, aiming for Kaito's legs.
Kaito caught himself with his hands those prehensile fingers gripping the concrete floor and flipped back up instantly. "Nice! But I'm ready now."
He was faster on the recovery this time, adapting to Izuku's style. When Izuku darted in again, Kaito was ready his longer arms creating a defensive perimeter, his monkey-agility letting him pivot to track the movement.
They traded feints and strikes, both breathing harder now. Kaito's strength was real—when he did manage to make contact, the impact rattled Izuku's smaller frame. But Kaito was fighting defensively, reactively, trying to catch something that wouldn't be caught.
Izuku changed tactics. He stopped circling and charged straight in the first predictable move he'd made. Kaito's eyes lit up with recognition, his hands coming up to grapple this obvious attack.
Exactly what Izuku wanted.
At the last second, Izuku dropped even lower almost to all fours his enhanced flexibility letting him contort beneath Kaito's reaching arms. His size was an advantage here; where Kaito's bulk made him powerful, it also made him committed to his movements. Izuku flowed like water, like the tiger moving through tall grass.
He came up behind Kaito, his claws retracted but his hands hooking around Kaito's arms with precise control. His tail whipped around Kaito's ankle not enough force to trip him, but enough to disrupt his balance. In the same motion, Izuku used his body weight and momentum to drive Kaito forward and down.
They hit the ground together. Kaito tried to break the fall with his hands, but Izuku was already transitioning, using his smaller size to slip into a pinning position. He hooked Kaito's arms back, planted his knee against Kaito's spine not hard, just enough for control and used his tail to maintain leverage on Kaito's leg.
The whole thing took maybe three seconds.
"One..." Daiki started counting.
Kaito struggled, his superior strength trying to power out of the hold. But Izuku had position, leverage, and he knew how to maintain both. This was how the tiger had taught him to take down prey larger than himself get on the back, control the spine, make strength irrelevant.
"Two... three..."
Kaito tried to buck, to roll, to use his hands for purchase. But every time he shifted, Izuku shifted with him, fluid and adaptive. The tiger had shown him this again and again a predator didn't just bite and hold. It read the prey's movements, anticipated the struggles, flowed with them while maintaining the kill grip.
"Four... five. Yield?"
"Yield," Kaito laughed, breathless and impressed. "Okay, cat beats monkey. For now. Holy shit, Izuku, how did you move like that?"
Izuku released the hold and stood, offering his hand to pull Kaito up. "The tiger. That's how it hunted—never where you expect, always adapting, using size as an advantage instead of a weakness."
"That was insane," Yuki said, her golden eyes bright with interest. "You fought completely differently than in the jungle. More... refined."
"In the jungle, I fought to survive. Here, I fought to win," Izuku explained. "Different goals, different methods. But the principles are the same read your opponent, stay unpredictable, use every advantage you have."
"I want to go next," Daiki said, his reptilian eyes gleaming. "Let's see how you handle scales and weight."
The next match was harder. Daiki's armored scales made him nearly impossible to hurt, and his bulk easily a hundred pounds more than Izuku meant grappling was dangerous. Izuku had to change his entire approach, targeting joints and using hit-and-run tactics that would chip away at Daiki's stamina.
But even here, the tiger's lessons applied. When facing something bigger and stronger, don't try to match strength. Be water around stone. Flow, evade, wait for the opening.
By the time they finished sparring everyone taking turns against everyone else they were all exhausted, sweating, and grinning.
"We should do this every week," Yuki said, flexing her wings. "I haven't fought like that since the jungle."
"Agreed," Daiki said. "We're out of practice. This'll keep us sharp."
"Plus it's fun," Kaito added. "Way better than just homework."
As the sun began to set and they prepared to head home, Izuku felt more certain than ever. Six months. Academic training and physical training. His pack beside him, all of them pushing toward the same goal.
They were going to make it.
They were going to become heroes.
Together.