The observation room was a fortress of technology and quiet intensity. Banks of monitors lined the walls, each one displaying a different angle of the entrance exam's aftermath—robots in various states of destruction, examinees being tended to by medical robots, and the slow, methodical cleanup of the mock city. The air was cool, tinged with the faint ozone scent of overworked electronics.
Principal Nezu sat at the head of the long conference table, his small form almost lost in the oversized chair. His paws were folded neatly in front of him, his whiskers twitching with barely contained excitement. To his left, Shota Aizawa slumped in his seat, his capture weapon coiled around his neck like a lifeline, his dark eyes fixed on the screens with the weary intensity of a man who'd seen too much. To his right, Toshinori Yagi—All Might in his deflated form—leaned forward, his skeletal frame hunched, his sunken eyes tracing the movements of a single figure on screen.
The footage was paused on a frame that showed Suon Yamada in his transformed state—white hair cascading like moonlight, eyes glowing with an almost otherworldly light, cloud-like frills framing his neck. His fist was buried in the head of the zero-pointer robot, the metal crumpled around his knuckles like paper.
"The practical exam results are in," Nezu announced, his voice carrying a note of barely restrained glee. "And I must say, this year's batch of applicants has proven to be exceptionally… interesting."
Aizawa grunted, not bothering to hide his exhaustion. "Interesting is one word for it. I've got about fifty others, most of them involving paperwork, sleepless nights, and the distinct possibility that half of these kids are going to give me gray hair before the year is out."
All Might coughed into his fist, a small trickle of blood staining his handkerchief. He quickly wiped it away, his attention never leaving the screen. "The boy on screen seven—Suon Yamada. His performance was nothing short of remarkable. I've witnessed countless quirks in my time, but I've never seen anything quite like his. It stands on a level of it's own in terms of potential."
Nezu's whiskers twitched with amusement. "Indeed. His file lists his quirk as 'Nika'—a stretching ability with additional… shall we say, 'reality-bending' properties. The footage from his altercation with Bakugo Katsuki during their middle school years suggests a latent ability to manipulate his surroundings on a fundamental level. And during today's exam, he demonstrated that ability on a scale we've never documented before."
The screen flickered, and the footage shifted to Suon's rampage through the mock city. The ground beneath his feet rippled like water, sending robots toppling like dominoes. His limbs stretched and contorted in ways that defied human anatomy, each punch carrying the force of a cannonball. And then, the pièce de résistance—his takedown of the zero-pointer. The distortion field around his fist had glowed with an almost ethereal light as he'd punched through the robot's head, the metal shattering like glass.
Aizawa leaned forward, his eyes narrowing to slits. "That wasn't just a brute force attack. He altered the molecular structure of the robot's plating at the point of impact. Made it brittle. Then he hit it with enough kinetic force to shatter it completely." He paused, his voice dropping to a low, serious tone. "That's not a quirk you see every day. That's borderline reality manipulation. If he can do that to a robot, what could he do to a person?" Aizawa, for the first time in a while, showed deep interest in a quirk of another person.
All Might nodded slowly, his expression grave. "It reminds me of someone I once knew. A villain from my early days—a man who could twist the fabric of the world to his whim. He called himself 'The Distortionist.' He nearly brought down an entire city before I stopped him." He paused, his eyes meeting Nezu's. "But this boy—he used his power to save someone. The Uraraka girl. He didn't hesitate. He didn't even think about the points. He just acted."
Nezu tapped a paw on the table, his smile widening. "And that's precisely why we need to be careful. Power like this can be a double-edged sword. If left unchecked, it could become a threat to everything we've built. But if nurtured properly—if guided by the right hands—it could become something truly extraordinary. The next symbol of peace, perhaps."
Aizawa sighed, rubbing his temples with both hands. "So what do you want to do? Give him a personal invitation to Class 1-A and hope he doesn't accidentally turn the classroom into a funhouse? Because I've seen what happens when kids with too much power and too little control get together. It's not pretty."
"Something like that," Nezu replied cheerfully, "but with a bit more finesse. First, I think we should have a little chat with him. Personally. I want to understand what makes him tick. What drives him. And more importantly—" His beady eyes gleamed. "—whether he understands the weight of the power he's been given and how he plans to use it."
---
The waiting room was small and sparsely furnished—a few chairs, a low table with some magazines that no one was reading, and a single window that looked out onto the sprawling UA campus. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the floor, and the faint sounds of distant training echoed through the walls.
I sat in one of the chairs, my hands clasped tightly in front of me, my heart pounding with a rhythm that had nothing to do with the drumbeat. The adrenaline from the exam had long since faded, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion that I was trying very hard to ignore.
Midoriya was beside me, his leg bouncing nervously against the floor. His notebook was clutched to his chest like a lifeline, and his eyes kept darting to the door every time it creaked. Bakugo was on the other side of the room, arms crossed, his scowl firmly in place. He hadn't said a word since we'd been called in, but his glare spoke volumes.
A few other examinees had been summoned as well—Ochaco Uraraka, her cheeks flushed with nervous energy; Tenya Iida, his posture ramrod straight, his glasses glinting under the fluorescent lights; and a boy with spiky red hair and sharp teeth who I vaguely recognized as Eijiro Kirishima. He was leaning against the wall, trying to look casual, but I could see the tension in his shoulders.
"Is this normal?" Midoriya whispered, his voice barely audible. "Being called in after the exam? I thought we'd just get our results in the mail or something."
"I don't know," I admitted, keeping my voice low. "But I have a feeling it's not a bad thing. They wouldn't call us in just to kick us out."
Bakugo snorted from across the room. "Tch. They're probably going to tell us we're not good enough. Waste of time."
I ignored him, focusing on my breathing. The drumbeat in my chest pulsed softly, a comforting presence. I reached for it, letting its rhythm steady my nerves.
The door opened, and Principal Nezu stepped in, followed by Aizawa and All Might—the latter in his deflated form, though most of the examinees didn't seem to recognize him. The room fell silent, all eyes fixed on the trio.
"Thank you all for waiting," Nezu said, his voice warm and inviting. "We've reviewed your performances, and we have a few questions for each of you. But first—" He turned to me, his beady eyes glittering with curiosity. "Suon Yamada. We'd like to speak with you privately. Follow me, please."
I stood, my legs feeling like they were made of jelly. Midoriya gave me an encouraging nod, and I caught Uraraka's small smile of support. Bakugo just glared. I also noticed several others including Iida and Eijiro. I was stuck in a room with all of the hot shots of Class A, but I did notice the absence Mina and Tokoyami and arguably Denki, who I considered as also hot shots of Class A.
I followed Nezu out of the room, down a winding hallway lined with portraits of former UA students and heroes. The walls seemed to close in around me, and I had to consciously force myself to breathe, remembering where I was.
---
The office we entered was a chaotic wonderland of books, papers, and strange gadgets that looked like they'd been invented by a mad scientist. Stacks of documents teetered precariously on every surface, and a large chalkboard was covered in diagrams that seemed to connect random concepts like "quirk evolution" and "tofu consumption." A small tea set was arranged on a side table, steam rising from the cups.
Nezu hopped onto his oversized chair, motioning for me to sit in the chair across from him. Aizawa and All Might flanked him, their expressions unreadable. I took my seat, my hands resting on my knees, trying to project an air of calm that I didn't quite feel.
"Suon," Nezu began, his tone conversational, "your performance today was exceptional. You displayed not only raw power but also strategic thinking, adaptability, and—most importantly—the instinct to protect others. These are the qualities we look for in UA students. The qualities that separate heroes from those who simply have abilities."
I nodded, my throat tight. "Thank you, sir. I tried my best."
"However," Aizawa cut in, his voice flat and devoid of emotion, "we need to understand your quirk better. The footage from your exam showed abilities that go far beyond simple stretching. The reality-bending, the distortion field, the transformation—none of it fits neatly into any category we've seen before. Can you explain what we saw?"
I hesitated, weighing my words carefully. "My quirk is called Nika. It's named after a… a symbol. Of freedom and joy. The stretching is the base ability—it's what I can do without much effort. But there's more to it. When I push myself to my limits, when I truly need to fight for something I believe in, I can access a secondary power—a distortion field that lets me manipulate my surroundings. The ground, the air, objects. It's like the world becomes play-dough in my hands. I can shape it, bend it, use it to my advantage."
All Might leaned forward, his skeletal form casting a long shadow across the desk. "And the form you take—the white hair, the glowing eyes, the frills. What is that? It doesn't seem like a typical quirk manifestation."
I paused, considering how much to reveal. "It's… I don't fully understand it yet. It's tied to my emotional state. When I feel joy, when I feel free—that's when I'm strongest. It's like the form responds to my will to protect others. When I'm fighting for something I truly care about, the power amplifies. But when I'm scared or angry or uncertain, it fades. I've been training to control it, but it's still… evolving."
Aizawa's gaze sharpened. "And how long can you maintain it? The form and the distortion field combined."
"About forty-five minutes of active combat," I said. "Longer if I'm stationary. But the distortion field drains my stamina much faster—a few minutes of intense use, and I'm completely spent. I'm still learning to manage the energy cost."
Nezu nodded thoughtfully, his paws tapping a rhythm on the desk. "And the source of this power? You mentioned it's tied to your emotional state. Can you elaborate? Is there a specific trigger, or is it more of a general emotional connection?"
I thought back to Nika's words in my dreams, to the feeling of freedom that washed over me when I transformed. "It's spiritual, in a way. The more I fight for something I believe in—the more I stay true to my ideals—the stronger I become. If I lose sight of that, if I let fear or anger take over, the power fades. It's like… it's like the quirk is testing me. Making sure I'm worthy of it."
The room was silent for a long moment. Then All Might spoke, his voice low and grave.
"Suon, I've seen many quirks in my time. Some powerful, some dangerous, some that defied explanation. But yours…" He shook his head slowly, his sunken eyes meeting mine. "Yours feels different. Like it's connected to something deeper. Something ancient. I can sense the weight of it, the potential. It's the kind of power that could change the world—for better or worse. I believe you are able to exceed even the greatest heroes of all time.
I met his gaze, my heart pounding. "I believe it is, sir. I believe I was given this power for a reason. I don't know exactly what that reason is yet, but I intend to use it to protect as many people as I can. That's why I'm here. That's why I want to be a hero."
Aizawa's expression softened—just slightly, barely perceptible. "You're aware of the risks? Of what could happen if you lose control?"
"Yes, sir. I've seen what happens when power is misused. I've experienced it firsthand. I won't let that happen to me."
Nezu smiled, clapping his paws together. "Wonderful! I think that's all we needed to hear. Your answers have been enlightening, Suon. Truly." He leaned forward, his beady eyes gleaming. "Welcome to UA, Suon Yamada. We're honored to have you."
I blinked, the words taking a moment to register. "That's it? I'm in?"
"You passed the exam with flying colors," Aizawa said dryly. "This was just a formality. We wanted to see if you were as impressive in person as you were on screen. You didn't disappoint. In fact, you exceeded our expectations."
All Might nodded, a faint smile crossing his gaunt and aging face. "You have a good heart, Suon. Never lose sight of that. It's what will make you a true hero."
I felt a wave of relief wash over me, so intense that I almost staggered. "Thank you. Thank you all."
"One more thing," Nezu added, his tone suddenly serious. "Your power is extraordinary, Suon. But it's also dangerous. There will be people who want to use you—or destroy you. You'll need to be careful. And you'll need to trust your teachers." He paused, his eyes meeting mine. "Can you do that? Can you trust us to guide you?"
I nodded without hesitation. "Yes, sir. I can."
---
I walked out of the office in a daze, my mind racing with everything that had been said. The hallway seemed longer than before, the walls pressing in from all sides. I barely registered the familiar faces as I passed—Midoriya, still waiting nervously; Bakugo, his scowl fixed firmly in place; Uraraka, bouncing on her heels with barely contained excitement.
Midoriya rushed over as soon as he saw me. "What happened? Are you okay? Did they—"
"I'm in," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I got in, Midoriya. I'm going to UA."
His face broke into a brilliant, tear-filled smile. "That's amazing, Suon! I knew you could do it! I knew it!"
"Thanks, Midoriya. Now let's hope you get the same news." I clapped him on the shoulder, feeling a warmth spread through my chest.
We walked back to the waiting room, where the others were still gathered. Bakugo shot me a glare, but there was something different in his eyes—respect, maybe, or wariness. It was hard to tell.
"You made it," he said flatly. It wasn't a question.
"Yeah," I replied, meeting his gaze. "I made it."
He grunted, looking away. "Don't think that means you're better than me. I'll be number one. You're just another obstacle."
I smiled—and something deeper churned, a more arrogant smile. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Bakugo."
---
The next few weeks were a blur of anticipation and preparation. I trained harder than ever, pushing my limits with Kenji every morning and evening. We refined my control over the distortion field, working on precision and efficiency. I could now maintain the field for nearly forty minutes without collapsing, and my stretches had reached an impressive twenty feet.
My family celebrated my acceptance into UA with a small dinner at home. Betta cooked all my favorite dishes, filling the apartment with the rich aromas of simmering broth and grilled fish. Hana teased me mercilessly, calling me "the big shot hero" and ruffling my hair until I swatted her away. Emi was practically vibrating with excitement, her hair cycling through a rainbow of colors as she peppered me with questions about UA.
"Are there going to be real villains? Will you get to use your powers every day? Can I come visit?" she asked, her eyes wide.
I laughed, hugging her. "I don't think visitors are allowed, Emi. But I'll tell you everything when I come home."
And Yuki called from overseas, her voice thick with emotion. "I'm so proud of you, Suon. You've come so far. I always knew you had it in you."
"Thanks, Yuki. I couldn't have done it without you guys. All of you."
"You better not disappoint me," she said, her tone half-teasing, half-serious. "You're the radiant hope of this family. Remember that."
I chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. "I'll do my best."
---
The day of the opening ceremony arrived faster than I expected. I stood in the UA auditorium, surrounded by hundreds of aspiring heroes, the weight of the moment pressing down on me. The hall was massive—gleaming white walls, soaring ceilings, and a stage that seemed to stretch into infinity. The air hummed with the collective energy of a thousand dreams.
I looked around at the faces of my future classmates, recognizing some from the exam. Uraraka was a few rows ahead, her brown hair bouncing as she chatted with Iida. Kirishima was nearby, his sharp teeth flashing in a friendly grin. And there, at the edge of the crowd, stood Bakugo—arms crossed, scowl firmly in place, radiating an aura of barely contained aggression.
And Midoriya was there too, his face pale with nervous excitement, his notebook clutched to his chest like a shield. He caught my eye and gave me a small, shaky smile. I smiled back, giving him a thumbs up.
The ceremony began with a speech from Principal Nezu, his voice warm and inviting as he welcomed us to UA. He spoke of heroism, of the responsibilities that came with power, of the importance of protecting those who couldn't protect themselves.
And then, in a flash of brilliant light, All Might appeared on stage—the Symbol of Peace, towering in his muscular form, his smile as bright as the sun itself.
"WELCOME, EVERYONE! THIS IS THE BEGINNING OF YOUR JOURNEY! PLUS ULTRA!"
The crowd erupted in cheers, and I felt a surge of emotion so powerful that it almost brought me to my knees. This was it. This was the moment I'd been training for, fighting for, dreaming of for two lifetimes.
I was a student at UA.
I was one step closer to the freedom I'd been promised.
And I wasn't going to waste a single second of it.