She had a point. The countless hours spent training in increasingly ridiculous outfits had forced me to develop incredibly precise control over my barriers. Now it was second nature to maintain a skin-tight field of infinite space that protected both me and my clothing, no matter how acrobatic the movement.
"I still think the tuxedo was overkill," I grumbled. Looking back, Mom's seemingly absurd training additions had all served their purpose, just like Kuro's more direct approach.
"Nothing I do is overkill," she said primly, stepping back to give me one final assessment. "It's all precisely calculated for maximum effect." Her expression softened. "And speaking of effects... you've grown up so much, Yoichi. Not just physically."
"Mom..."
"Oh hush, let me have my moment." She reached up to brush my hair back, though we both knew it would fall right back into its carefully disheveled state. "You were always handsome – you get that from both sides of the family – but now..." She smiled that secret smile again. "Now you look like someone who knows exactly how dangerous they are, and exactly how to use that to their advantage."
"You make me sound like some kind of heartbreaker."
"Merely observing that you've grown into your potential," she said innocently. "Though I do hope you'll be careful with that smile of yours."
I caught my reflection again and tried the smile she was talking about. Okay, yeah, I could see what she meant. Combined with the lotus eyes and the whole... everything else, it definitely had an impact. I quickly switched to a more neutral expression.
I studied my reflection a moment longer, remembering Kuro's words from our final training session. 'To whom much has been given, much is expected.'
"Guess I'll just have to surpass those expectations."
"Speaking of expectations," Mom said, straightening my collar one last time, "we should discuss the competition."
"Please tell me you didn't run background checks on the other applicants."
Her silence spoke volumes.
"Mom!"
"I merely acquired some publicly available information," she said, pulling a slim folder from seemingly nowhere. "Did you know that the daughter of the number two hero is applying this year? And there's a girl who—"
I snatched the folder and held it away from her reaching hands. "Nope. No way. This is cheating."
"It's called being prepared," she countered, making another grab for it. "That's very rude, young man."
"I'll give it back after the exam," I promised. "Maybe."
She sighed that long-suffering sigh that meant I'd won this round, but she'd find a way to get even later. "Fine. Do it the hard way." She glanced at her watch. "You should leave soon if you want to arrive fashionably early."
"About that..." I scratched the back of my head. "I was thinking of taking the train."
"Don't be ridiculous. I've already arranged—"
"Mom." I caught her hands in mine. "I need to do this myself. No fancy car service, no pulling strings, no mysteriously convenient 'coincidences.' Just me, proving I deserve to be there."
She studied my face for a long moment. "You're so much like him sometimes," she murmured, then cleared her throat. "Very well."
We headed downstairs, Mom somehow producing my bag and a thermos of tea along the way. At the door, she paused.
"Remember—"
"I know, I know. Don't show off too much, don't destroy any buildings, and don't forget to smile for the cameras."
The corner of her mouth twitched. "I was going to say 'remember that you're a Nakamura,' but those are good points too." She kissed my forehead, having to stretch up now that I was taller. "That's my boy."
The morning air hit my face as I stepped outside, carrying the first hints of spring. Cherry blossoms would be blooming soon. New beginnings and all that.
I looked up at the cloudless sky, picturing the U.A. acceptance letter I'd be bringing home. Ten months of Kuro's insane training methods and Mom's meticulous preparation had led to this moment.
Time to make it count.
"Yoichi?" Mom called from the doorway.
"Yeah?"
"Try not to traumatize too many girls with that smile of yours. I'm not ready for grandchildren."
I nearly tripped down the front steps. "Goodbye, Mom!"
==========
\[Next time on "Yoichi's Hero Academia"\]
"—and that's what you can expect from the written portion of the exam," I said to the camera, lounging in the studio chair. "Pretty standard stuff: hero laws, ethics, quirk regulations—"
The door burst open. A tall, muscular guy with a top-knot bun stormed onto the set.
"Cut! What the hell?" The producer waved his arms. "Security!"
"Hey, hey, before you throw me out—" The intruder pointed at me. "What's your type of woman?"
I blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Your type! The kind of woman that makes your soul sing!"
The producer's face turned red. "Get this lunatic—"
"No, wait." I leaned forward. "You really want to know?"
Top-knot guy nodded eagerly.
"Alright." I crossed my legs, getting comfortable. "First off, she's gotta have that edge to her, you know? That dangerous grace. Like she could either kiss you or kill you, and you're not sure which would be better."
"YES!" He slammed his hands on my chair arms. "Go on!"
"And look, I appreciate all body types, but there's something about a woman with a perfectly round ass and—"
"Thighs that could crush watermelons?"
"Exactly! But it's not about size—"
"It's about shape!" We said in unison.
He grabbed my shoulders. "BESTO FRIENDO!"
The producer looked ready to explode. "This is supposed to be about the entrance exam!"
"Oh right." I turned back to the camera. "Next time: Written and Practical Exams! Will I pass? Will I find a woman who meets these exacting standards? Will my new best friend here get arrested for breaking into a TV studio?"
"Worth it!" Top-knot gave a thumbs up.
"Don't forget to drop those power stones in the comments, and let us know your thoughts on the proper thigh-to-ass ratio—"
"That's it!" The producer yanked the plug. "We're done!"
"But I didn't even get to the practical exam preview—"
"OUT!"