'That's coming out of your allowance," she said calmly.
"I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE PHONE!" Katsuki roared. "DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT THIS MEANS?!"
"It means your friend is very accomplished?" Masaru offered.
"HE'S NOT MY FRIEND, HE'S—HE'S—" Katsuki struggled to find words adequate to describe what Ken was. A rival? An obstacle? A walking reminder that no matter how hard Katsuki worked, someone could just show up and be better?
"He's a very talented young man who's had a difficult life," Mitsuki said firmly. "And you should be happy for him."
"HAPPY?!" Katsuki's voice cracked. "HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO BE HAPPY WHEN—"
He gestured wildly at the TV, where they were now showing quotes from critics praising the book's "mature themes" and "sophisticated worldbuilding."
"—WHEN HE'S APPARENTLY GOOD AT EVERYTHING?! IT'S NOT ENOUGH THAT HE HAS THAT BULLSHIT QUIRK, OR THAT HE CAN FIGHT —" The admission was clearly painful. "—NOW HE'S ALSO A FAMOUS AUTHOR?!"
"Katsuki—" his father started.
"Maybe," Mitsuki suggested, "instead of seeing him as competition, you could try learning from him?"
"Learn from—I don't need to learn anything! I'm gonna be number one! I'm gonna surpass All Might himself! And now .. I'm going back to training," Katsuki announced, turning toward the stairs.
"Katsuki—"
"I need to get stronger," he said, not looking back. "If that asshole can write a book and become a hero at the same time, then I can train twice as hard. I'll catch up. I'll surpass him."
"That's not healthy competition, that's obsession," Masaru called after him.
"CALL IT WHATEVER YOU WANT!" Katsuki was already halfway up the stairs. "NEXT TIME WE FIGHT, I'M GONNA WIN! I'LL SHOW EVERYONE THAT EXPLOSIONS ARE BETTER THAN WHATEVER BULLSHIT POWER HE'S GOT!"
His door slammed hard enough to rattle the pictures on the walls.
Mitsuki and Masaru sat in silence for a moment.
"Well," Mitsuki said eventually, "at least he's motivated?"
"He's going to hurt himself," Masaru sighed. "You know how he gets when he fixates on something."
"Should we be worried?"
Masaru considered this. "Honestly? I think this might be good for him. He's never had a real rival before. Someone who challenges him in ways he can't just explode his way through."
"You think Rei will be good for him?"
"I think," Masaru said carefully, "that Rei might be the best thing that's happened to our son in a long time. Even if Katsuki's too stubborn to admit it."
Upstairs, Katsuki was doing push-ups again. One hundred. Two hundred. His arms burned, his muscles screamed, but he didn't stop.
Two million copies, a traitorous voice in his head whispered. While training for U.A. While homeless. While dealing with amnesia.
"Shut up," he growled at himself.
He saved your life.
"I didn't need saving."
He beat you in training without even trying.
"That was luck."
He's better than you.
"NO HE'S NOT!"
The explosion that followed left another scorch mark on his ceiling and brought his mother's voice thundering up the stairs.
"KATSUKI! THAT'S COMING OUT OF YOUR ALLOWANCE TOO!"
"DIE!!!"
__
YAOYOROZU HOUSEHOLD
The Yaoyorozu estate was, as always, a picture of refined elegance. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked immaculately maintained gardens. Classical music played softly from hidden speakers. Everything was perfect, exactly as it should be.
Momo Yaoyorozu sat in her study, surrounded by textbooks and notes from U.A.'s first day.
She'd been reviewing the battle training exercise, analyzing where she'd gone wrong, how she could improve. The villain attack had been terrifying, but it had also been educational—a real-world application of everything they'd been learning, no matter how short it was.
She was so focused on her work that she almost didn't hear the knock on her door.
"Come in," she called, not looking up from her notes.
Her mother entered, tablet in hand, wearing an expression Momo couldn't quite read. "Momo, dear, have you been watching the news?"
"No, I've been studying. Why?"
Her mother held out the tablet. "I think you should see this."
Momo took it, curious, and her eyes widened as she read the headline.
BESTSELLING AUTHOR K.T.R.T. REVEALED TO BE U.A. FIRST-YEAR REI TAKUMI
"Takumi-san?" She scrolled quickly through the article, her analytical mind picking up details with practiced efficiency. "He wrote Avatar: The Last Airbender?"
"Apparently so. The publisher confirmed it this afternoon."
Momo sat back, genuinely shocked. She'd read that book—everyone had. It was required reading in their literature class now. She'd found it surprisingly sophisticated, with complex themes about responsibility, power, and redemption.
She'd never imagined it had been written by a classmate.
"Two million copies," she murmured. "At seventeen. While preparing for U.A.'s entrance exam."
"And while dealing with a decade-long disappearance and amnesia, according to the reports," her mother added. "It's quite remarkable."
Remarkable was an understatement.
Momo had been raised in privilege. She'd had the best tutors, the best resources, every advantage money could buy. She'd worked hard to get into U.A., certainly, but she'd never had to worry about where her next meal was coming from or whether she'd have a roof over her head.
"Mother," she said slowly, "how long does it typically take to write a book?"
"I believe the average novel takes about a year, dear. Why?"
"He's brilliant," she said aloud. "Truly brilliant."
"You sound impressed."
"I am impressed." Momo looked up at her mother. "I've been so focused on my own training, my own progress. But Takumi-san... he's operating on a completely different level."
"You shouldn't compare yourself to him, dear. Everyone has their own path."
But Momo was already thinking ahead. "I need to study harder. Train more. If someone can write a bestselling novel and still outperform the rest of us at U.A., then I have no excuse for not pushing myself further."
Her mother smiled slightly. "That's my daughter. Always rising to a challenge."
After her mother left, Momo returned to her notes with renewed focus. But her mind kept drifting back to the article.
"Remarkable," she murmured again, making a mental note to actually read his book more carefully. Perhaps there were insights there she'd missed the first time.
Perhaps there was a lot about Takumi-san that she'd missed.
___
TODOROKI HOUSEHOLD,
The Todoroki estate was always cold, despite the traditional heating systems built into every room. It was a coldness that had nothing to do with temperature and everything to do with the man who ruled it.
Shoto Todoroki sat in his room, mechanically going through his evening routine. Ice manipulation practice. Temperature control exercises. Physical conditioning. Everything focused on his left side, his ice side. The side that was his, not his father's cursed flames.
He didn't watch TV. He didn't care about celebrity gossip or media circuses. The outside world and its trivial concerns held no interest for him—not when he had a singular purpose burning in his chest like frozen fire.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
His fist connected with the practice dummy in measured intervals, each strike perfectly controlled. Ice spread from the point of impact, crawling across the surface in crystalline patterns. He wasn't training to destroy—he was training to dominate. To prove that his mother's side, his ice, was all he needed.
The dummy cracked under the repeated assault, frost blooming across its surface like deadly flowers.
Knock knock.
Shoto paused mid-strike, his breath misting in the air he'd unconsciously chilled. He didn't turn around.
"What is it?" His voice was as flat as always.
"Shoto?" His sister Fuyumi's voice came through the door, hesitant but insistent. "Can I come in?" He lowered his fist slowly, ice still crackling faintly around his knuckles. "If you must."
The door slid open, and Fuyumi stepped inside, her white hair catching the dim light from his desk lamp. She was holding her phone, and there was something in her expression—excitement mixed with uncertainty, like she wanted to share something but wasn't sure how he'd react.
"I wanted to show you something," she said, approaching carefully. She knew better than to interrupt his training without good reason.
"I'm busy."
"I know, but—" She held out her phone. "It's about one of your classmates. Rei Takumi."
"..."
Shoto turned slightly, just enough to acknowledge her presence. "What about him?"
Fuyumi's expression shifted to something closer to genuine excitement now that she had his attention. "He's the author. K.T.R.T.—the one who wrote Avatar: The Last Airbender. It was just revealed on the news."
Shoto's heterochromatic eyes narrowed fractionally. "What?"
"Look." She pulled up the news article, holding the screen where he could see it. The headline screamed in bold letters: BESTSELLING AUTHOR K.T.R.T. REVEALED TO BE U.A. FIRST-YEAR REI TAKUMI.
He stared at the screen, his expression unchanging, but something flickered behind his eyes—surprise, maybe, or calculation.
"He wrote that?" The words came out quieter than he intended. The surprise evident enough.
Fuyumi nodded enthusiastically. "Go on. See for yourself." He did after a moment of silence. Watching the news report with Fuyumu and gaining a clear understanding of what happened.
"I thought you'd want to know, especially since it's something you actually like reading. Um ... You do like it right?" Fuyumi asked once the report was over, fairly startled.
It couldn't be helped, as the circumstances of Todoroki reading was novel was somewhat peculiar.
Back then, she had gotten it for fun and shared it to the rest of her family. Only to have her dad fly out in a rage upon presenting the book at the dinner table.
Why? Three simple words.
Fire Lord Endeavor.
Due to the popularity amassed from the book's success and the absence of an author to clarify on a lot of things, fan theories had spread far and wide across all subjects concerning it.
Two of the most prevalent being that the author's hidden identity was a pro hero, and that whoever they are, they had taken real life inspiration for certain characters in the story.
No doubt, Aang the Avatar had been equated to being taken from All Might due to the similarities of The Symbol Of Peace.
On the other hand, fans had speculated that the inspiration for The Fire Lord was none other than the Number two hero, Endeavor die to his flame based powers.
This speculation only deepened further when it was made public knowledge that Endeavors son, Shoto Todoroki also had a burn scar on his face.
As a result, a viral meme with a picture of the Art drawing of Fire Lord Ozai and one of endeavors public images, both sporting a somewhat similarly stern expression had led to the masses dubbing the number hero with the Title, Fire Lord Endeavor.
Predictably, Enji Todoroki was furious.
That anger only further multiplied when he actually took the time to read the thing himself.
He'd flipped through it, silently at first — until he reached the later chapters, where the Fire Nation's ruler was described with unnerving familiarity. Prideful. Cruel. Obsessed with legacy.
The resemblance had been impossible to ignore. Then came the rage. The slam of the table. The glare that burned hotter than his flames.
"You think this is funny?" he'd said. "You think this is entertainment?"
The dinner table had gone silent that night. The air so thick with tension that even Natsuo had stopped chewing halfway through a mouthful of rice.
Fuyumi had only wanted to share something nice — a family activity, a rare neutral moment. Unfortunately, it backfired, causing dinner to end on a sour note.
However, she had seen Shoto taken an interest in it right after, taking it to read leading to her current assumption. Though now she couldn't be sure whether he truly liked it or if it was an actual to spite their father.
Shoto didn't answer immediately. His mind still muling over the news report about Ken's history. Give the media something to work with and they could dig out just about anything.
In just a few hours, Ken's life story had been made plain for everyone to read about. The missing years, the return, the amnesia, the sludge villain incident ... If it wasn't public information before, then it certainly was now.
'I see.'
Todoroki thought back to the discussion he had with Ken. 'If you wrote this, then you do understand.'
"Shoto?" Fuyumi's voice pulled him back.
He lowered his hand. "I've read it."
"And?"
"It was... well-written."
That was as close to praise as Shoto Todoroki ever gave anything.Takumi had been missing for ten years. He'd lost everything—his memories, his home, his childhood. And yet he'd crawled out of that darkness and created something meaningful. Something that resonated with people.
Something that had resonated with Shoto.
Come to think of it, although in different ways,they had both lost their childhoods.
'It seems I didn't misjudge you at all, Ken.'
He thought, eyes growing with conviction. 'Which gives me all the more reason to beat you.'
For the first time in a long while, Shoto Todoroki felt something close to... respect.
Not admiration. Not friendship. But an acknowledgment that someone else in his class carried weight similar to his own. Someone who knew what it meant to fight against the past while trying to define the future.
Someone worth beating.
The Sports Festival was weeks away. Plenty of time to refine his techniques. Plenty of time to prepare.
And when they faced each other—because they would face each other—Shoto would prove his point.
Not to Takumi.
To his father.
To himself.
'Rei Takumi, I'll surpass you. And I'll do it my way.'
"Thank you for telling me," he said finally, his tone dismissive but not unkind. "I need to finish training."
Fuyumi recognized the cue and nodded, stepping back toward the door. "Okay. But Shoto? Can I ask you for something?" She asked, twiddling her fingers nervously
"What?"
"Can you .... Help me ... Get me his autograph?" Fuyumi finished, taking out her book from behind with glowing eyes.
Shoto: ....
____
KIRISHIMA HOUSEHOLD
Eijiro was mid-explanation about the villain attack when his phone started vibrating like a trapped animal.
"Hold on—" He pulled it out. "What the—"
Ashido: KIRISHIMA
Ashido: KIRISHIMA CHECK HEROX RIGHT NOW
Ashido: YOU ARE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE THIS
"What's wrong?" his mother asked, concerned.
"Not sure... give me a second..." He opened HeroX.
The trending page loaded.
Five seconds later ..
"Holy Quirk."
"Eijiro?"
"Ma, you won't believe this."
"What's wrong?"
"My classmate is a celebrity!"
"..."
___
ASHIDO HOUSEHOLD
A pink skinned Mina was practically vibrating with excitement.
"THIS IS INSANE!"
"Mina, breathe—"
"I CAN'T! THIS IS THE MOST EXCITING—"
"Didn't you survive a villain attack today?"
"OKAY THE SECOND MOST EXCITING!"
She flopped onto her bed, still clutching her phone. "I've gotta make sure everyone knows about this. We've been sitting next to a celebrity author and nobody knew! And he's so quiet!"
"It says his information was stolen," her mother said gently. "He might not be happy."
Mina's excitement dimmed. "Oh. Yeah. That's... actually awful."
She read more carefully. Security breach. Privacy violation. Personal information leaked without consent.
"Okay so exciting but also terrible," she concluded. "We should help him tomorrow. Media's gonna be everywhere."
Her mother nodded approvingly. "That's mature."
"I AM MATURE!" Mina declared, then immediately: "But also we have a celebrity in class!"
___
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