Chapter 2: The U.A. Question
The walk to school resumed, but the atmosphere was shattered. The adrenaline was fading, leaving Itachi with a dull throb in his knee and a small, stinging scrape on the bridge of his nose where he'd hit the pavement. Kenta and Haru wouldn't stop talking, replaying the event with escalating excitement.
"You were like a blur! And that truck! It just missed you!"
"You've got to stop by the nurse's office, Itachi. You're bleeding," Haru noted, pointing at the tiny scratch on his knee.
"I'm fine," Itachi said, but his voice was distant. He was still processing the raw, kinetic violence of the impact, the weight of the girl in his arms.
"Fine? Dude, you used your dad's Quirk! That was awesome!" Kenta said, pumping his fist. "The way you zeroed in on her... it's just like your dad told us! 'The ultimate predictive engine!'"
Itachi touched his eyes. They felt dry. "It doesn't feel like much of a Quirk. It just shows you what's happening."
"Yeah, but combined with your mom's?" Haru chimed in, grinning. "The 'Sharingan' and 'Fire Breath'? You're basically a complete hero package right out of the box."
Itachi's mother, Mikoto, possessed a mild Quirk. She could expel a stream of flammable gas from her lungs, which, when ignited by a spark, produced a small, controlled burst of fire. It was useful for lighting the stove or a barbecue, but little else. Itachi had inherited a version of it, though he rarely had cause to use it.
"You should seriously think about the U.A. entrance exam," Kenta said, suddenly serious. "It's this year. We're lucky enough to live in the same city as the academy. You could actually get in."
Itachi paused. "U.A.?"
He knew of the school, of course. It was impossible not to. The towering, 'H'-shaped building dominated the skyline, a constant reminder of the hero-saturated world they lived in. But he had never, not once, considered it for himself. His path was academic, quiet, and predictable.
"I'll... think about it," he said, mostly to end the conversation.
At the school gates, they separated. Itachi, honoring his friends' nagging, detoured to the nurse's office.
The nurse, Ms. Chiyo, was a kind woman with perpetually smiling eyes and a Quirk that let her... well, Itachi wasn't actually sure what her Quirk was. She was just always warm.
"My goodness, Itachi. It's rare to see you in here. What happened to you?" she asked, gesturing for him to sit on the examination stool.
"I fell," he said simply.
She hummed, cleaning the tiny scrape on his nose. "A bad fall, it seems. You're trembling slightly."
He hadn't even noticed.
"My friends think I should apply to U.A.," he said, the words surprising him as they left his mouth.
Ms. Chiyo paused, her hand hovering with a small, cartoon-character bandage. "Oh? You want to be a hero?"
"Not really," Itachi admitted, looking at his hands. "Kenta and Haru just... they saw me use my father's Quirk today. An incident on the way to school."
"The truck incident at the intersection?" she asked, her eyes sharpening with concern. "That was you?"
He nodded.
She studied him for a long moment, the smile returning, but softer this time. "Well, they might be right. But that's a decision you have to make for yourself, Itachi. Not for your friends."
She carefully placed the bandage on the bridge of his nose. It had a little picture of a puppy on it.
"But, just between you and me," she whispered, leaning in conspiratorially, "I think being a Pro Hero... it definitely makes you attractive to people. Like me." She winked.
Itachi felt an unfamiliar heat rise in his cheeks. He muttered a "thank you" and quickly left the office.
That evening, the topic came up over dinner. His parents had already heard the story; the local news had covered the "miraculous rescue by an unknown middle schooler."
"You were reckless," Fugaku stated. It wasn't an accusation, just a fact. He was a stern man, his eyes, so similar to Itachi's, currently narrowed in thought. "Using your Quirk like that, pushing your body past its limits... it was dangerous."
"He saved that girl's life, dear," Mikoto said softly, placing a bowl of rice in front of Itachi.
"And he could have just as easily been killed," Fugaku countered. "The Quirk only lets you see, Itachi. It doesn't make you invulnerable."
"I know, Father."
Itachi poked at his fish. "My friends... they suggested I apply to U.A."
The clinking of chopsticks stopped. Mikoto looked at her husband, then at her son.
"U.A.?" Fugaku repeated. His Quirk, while powerful for perception, wasn't suited for combat. He'd never considered the hero course for himself, nor for his son. "That's... unexpected."
"It's a very difficult path," Mikoto said, her brow furrowed with worry. "The training is grueling. The danger... Itachi, are you sure you'd be able to handle that?"
Itachi looked down at his plate. He thought of the girl's scream, the roar of the truck, the feeling of his muscles tearing as he pushed them to their absolute limit. He thought of the applause, and the strange, quiet satisfaction that had settled in his chest afterward.
It wasn't about being a hero. It wasn't about the fame, or the glory, or even about being attractive to the nurse. It was about the simple fact that when the moment came, when the world was falling apart and no one else could, he could.
"I don't know," Itachi said, his voice level. "But I think I'd like to try."
Fugaku stared at his son for a long, silent beat. Then, he nodded once. "Then you will."
Later that night, the house was dark. The only light came from the blue-white glow of a computer monitor in Itachi's room. On the screen was the U.A. High School online admissions portal. His fingers moved steadily over the keyboard, filling in the fields.
Name: Itachi Uchiha.
Quirk: Sharingan (Visual) & Fire Breath (Emitter).
He clicked "Submit."