"It's not."
He said it with such certainty that neither woman argued. He approached the door, checked the peephole, and his eyebrows rose slightly.
"Well," he muttered. "This should be interesting."
He opened the door.
On the doorstep stood three figures that would have been instantly recognizable to anyone in Japan: Principal Nezu, his diminutive form radiating an authority that had nothing to do with size; Eraserhead, looking like he'd aged five years in the past twenty-four hours; and All Might in his skeletal true form, his gaunt face creased with concern.
"Good morning, Young Takumi," All Might said quietly. "Might we come in?"
Ken stepped aside without a word, gesturing them inside.
The three U.A. staff members entered, and Ken closed the door behind them, shutting out the muffled chaos of the crowd beyond. For a moment, the only sound was the soft click of the lock engaging.
Nezu hopped onto the couch with practiced ease, his dark eyes taking in the scene with unsettling precision: the drawn curtains, the tired faces, the television remote still sitting where Akira had placed it, the palpable tension hanging in the air.
"Mrs. Takumi," he said, inclining his head politely. "Thank you for seeing us on such short notice. I apologize for the intrusion, especially given the circumstances."
Akira stood, smoothing down her rumpled clothes in an unconscious gesture of propriety. "Principal Nezu. You must be Mr. Aizawa." She turned to the gaunt man with uncertainty. "And Mr...?"
Principal Nezu was a public figure every concerned parent would know. Ken had mentioned his homeroom teacher after his first day. But the skeletal man was no one she recognized—not from the news, not from any hero database she'd ever seen.
"Just call me Mr. Toshinori, ma'am," the gaunt man said with a slight bow. "I'm a consultant at the school."
"I see." Akira managed a weak smile. "I... I'd offer you tea, but I'm afraid I'm not quite—"
"Please, don't trouble yourself," Nezu interrupted gently. "We understand you've had a difficult night. There's no need for formalities."
Aya stood, recognizing her cue. She gathered her bag, bowing deeply to everyone in the room. "I should go. Mrs. Takumi, if you need anything—anything at all—please don't hesitate to call. We'll keep you updated on the investigation, and our legal team is at your disposal."
"Thank you, Aya," Akira said softly. "For everything."
Aya paused at the door, looking back at Ken one last time. "I'm sorry," she said again.
Ken just nodded.
The door opened and closed quickly, admitting another brief surge of crowd noise before silence returned.
The room settled into a new configuration: the Takumi family on one side, U.A.'s representatives on the other, with an invisible line of tension running between them.
"So," Ken said, breaking the silence. "I'm guessing this isn't a social call."
Aizawa's expression didn't change. "No. It's not."
"We've come to discuss your situation," Nezu said, his tone maintaining that careful balance between cheerful and serious. "And more specifically, to discuss how U.A. can help ensure your safety and wellbeing moving forward."
Ken's eyes narrowed slightly. "'Moving forward.'"
"Yes."
"As in, you want me to come back to school."
All Might's brows furrowed at Ken's wording. 'Come back?' he thought, an ominous feeling settling in his gut. 'Don't tell me...'
Aizawa's eyes sharpened. "Did you not plan to come back?"
"Could I even come back?" Ken shot back, gesturing vaguely toward the window where the crowd's presence was an inescapable reality.
"We want you to remain enrolled at U.A., yes," Nezu confirmed. "But we're aware that the current circumstances make that... complicated."
"'Complicated,'" Ken repeated, his tone flat. "That's one word for it."
Akira moved to sit on the arm of the couch beside her son, her hand finding his shoulder. "What exactly are you proposing, Principal?"
Nezu's expression grew more serious, the cheerful mask slipping just slightly. "Mrs. Takumi, Young Takumi—I want to be direct with you. The situation outside your home is unlikely to improve on its own. In fact, based on current trends and media behavior patterns, it will likely worsen before it gets better."
He gestured toward the window.
"More media outlets will arrive as the story continues to gain traction. More curious onlookers who want to see the 'mysterious author' for themselves. More individuals seeking interviews, photographs, statements." He paused, his dark eyes meeting Ken's. "And possibly individuals with less benign intentions."
"Villains," Ken said flatly.
"Possibly," Nezu acknowledged without hesitation. "You've become a high-profile target overnight, Mr. Takumi. A U.A. student who survived yesterday's attack, a cultural figure whose work has reached millions, and someone whose personal history includes a decade-long disappearance. That combination makes you interesting to many people—not all of whom have your best interests at heart."
The room fell quiet. The weight of unstated threats hung heavy in the air.
"The League of Villains specifically targeted U.A. yesterday," the gaunt man spoke with a grave voice. "While we have no evidence connecting them to this leak, we cannot ignore the possibility that you are now on their radar. Or on the radar of other villain organizations."
"Great," Ken muttered.
Aizawa spoke up, his voice carrying that perpetual exhaustion.
"We can't protect you here. Not adequately. This is a residential neighborhood with limited security infrastructure. The crowd outside proves that—local heroes and police are barely managing to keep order, and that's with a mostly peaceful gathering. If someone with malicious intent decided to act..."
He let the sentence hang, the implication clear.
"So what are you suggesting?" Akira asked, though her tone suggested she already suspected the answer.
"Campus boarding," Toshinori said.
"Campus? I didn't know U.A had a boarding institution."
Frowns creased Akira's forehead.
"... Well, we do now."
Nezu said cheerfully.
"After careful consideration, U.A. has decided to include dormitory facilities. With our resources, we can make sure that they are among the most secure locations in Japan. Security systems designed by I-Island engineers, twenty-four-hour hero patrol protocols, faculty oversight, controlled access points. If Young Takumi were to live on campus, we could ensure his safety in a way that's simply not possible here."
Akira's brows furrowed, and her next question cut through the room like a blade. "Wasn't U.A. just broken into yesterday?"
The room fell into an uncomfortable silence.
Aizawa's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. All Might looked down at his hands.
Ken felt a small surge of appreciation for his mother. Leave it to her to ask the one question that actually mattered.
Nezu's perpetual smile however, didn't falter for a moment.
"You're absolutely right to raise that concern, Mrs. Takumi," Nezu said finally, his tone losing its cheerful edge entirely. "Yes, we were breached. Yes, our security protocols failed to prevent a coordinated villain attack on our students during what should have been a routine training exercise. It was our greatest institutional failure in decades, and we take full responsibility for it."
He looked directly at her, his dark eyes utterly serious now.
"However, that failure has resulted in the most comprehensive security overhaul in U.A.'s history. I-Island's top engineers are implementing new systems as we speak. We've doubled our security staff and restructured our emergency response protocols. Every faculty member is now required to be on-call for immediate deployment. We're installing detection systems that will identify spatial manipulation quirks, infiltration attempts, and unauthorized personnel before they can penetrate our outer perimeter."
Nezu paused, letting that sink in.
"We're also implementing biometric scanning at every entry point, upgrading our surveillance network with AI-assisted threat recognition, and establishing a direct response line to the Hero Public Safety Commission. What happened yesterday will never happen again."
"With respect, Principal," Akira said quietly, her voice steady despite the exhaustion written across her face, "that's what you would say regardless of whether it was true or not. How can I trust that my son will actually be safe? Words are easy. Results are what matter."
Aizawa spoke up, his voice rough but carrying an honesty that cut through the diplomatic veneer. "You can't. Not with complete certainty. We failed once, and words don't erase that fact."
He gestured toward the window, where the crowd noise was still audible—a constant reminder of their current reality.
"But right now, your son has easily a hundred reporters and curiosity-seekers camped outside his house. No security perimeter. No trained personnel. Just local heroes trying to manage a mob that's only going to grow larger. At U.A., he'd be behind multiple security perimeters, surrounded by pro heroes, with immediate response capabilities if anything happens."
Aizawa leaned forward slightly, his red eyes intense despite the exhaustion.
"We can't promise perfect safety, Mrs. Takumi. No one can—not in this world, not with quirks, not with villains who'll target anyone to make a point. But we can promise that we'll die before we let another student get hurt on our watch. Yesterday taught us exactly how high the stakes are, and we won't make the same mistakes twice."
The raw sincerity in his voice was almost painful to hear. Ken found himself believing it completely—Aizawa absolutely would throw himself in front of a threat to his students without hesitation.
The anime already proved this point, even though U.S.J wouldn't be happening again.
Akira was quiet for a long moment, processing this.
Her brows furrowed, shoulders tensed and her fingers moved restlessly.
"I ... I'm not sure I can." Her words stunned both All Might and Mr. Aizawa. Nezu's smile faltered for a half a second. Barely a moment, before returning.
'It seems This will be much harder than we anticipated.'
"Forgive me for asking, Miss Takumi, but ..." All Might called out with a bit of urgency. ".. Why? Would you not give us a chance to prove that ..."
"It's not that." She cut him off.
"U.A is the best Hero school in the country. If my son isn't safe there then there's probably nowhere else he would be. So I don't doubt that. The reason why is because when we got back yesterday, he told me a lot of things that I found .. disturbing."
The three U.A. representatives exchanged glances.
"Disturbing?" Aizawa prompted gently.
Nezu and All Might, already knew where this was going.
Akira's hands twisted in her lap. "After the attack yesterday, after everything calmed down and we came home... Rei told me that his memories had returned. Not all of them, but enough. Enough to understand what happened during those ten years he was missing."
Her voice cracked slightly, and Ken's hand found hers, squeezing.
"He remembered me. His father. Our time together before..." She took a shaky breath. "But he also remembered the bad things. The terrible things. And I realized just how great the scale of what my son had gotten involved with—what he'd been subjected to—actually was."
All Might's expression grew pained. Aizawa's jaw tightened. Nezu's ears flattened slightly.
"He told me about the kidnapping. About being taken and waking up in some underground facility." Her voice was steady now, but brittle—like glass about to shatter. "About the experiments. About how they were targeting quirkless people specifically. About the others who... who didn't survive."
She looked up at them, her eyes red-rimmed but fierce.
"He told me about the organization behind it. How sophisticated they were. How powerful. How they're still out there, somewhere, and that yesterday's attack—the League of Villains—might be connected to them somehow."
"Mrs. Takumi—" All Might started.
"After everything we discussed last night," she continued, her voice gaining strength even as it trembled, "about what he remembered, about the scope of what we're dealing with... I thought we might need to consider more drastic measures. Leaving the country. Hiding. Anything to keep him safe."
She paused, and when she spoke again, the words came out like they'd been torn from somewhere deep inside.
"And so... I don't... I don't want him to be a hero anymore."
The silence that followed was absolute.
Ken's hand tightened on hers. "Mom—"
"No." She turned to him, tears finally spilling over. "No, Rei. You've suffered enough. You lost ten years of your life to monsters who treated you like a lab rat. You survived things that would have broken most people. You came back to me, and I thought—I thought we could finally have a normal life. That you could go to school, make friends, be safe."
She looked at the U.A. staff, her expression a mixture of desperation and determination.
"But this isn't safe. Hero work isn't safe. Yesterday proved that. Villains attacked your school—your school, the place that's supposed to be the most secure hero institution in the country. And my son, my seventeen-year-old son who's already been through hell, was put in a position where he had to fight for his life. Again."
Her voice broke on the last word.
"I can't... I can't watch him throw himself into danger over and over again. I can't sit at home wondering if today's the day he doesn't come back. I already lost him once. I can't lose him again.