Ever since learning All Might's secret, Igarashi Masata had found himself feeling strangely unsettled about his dreams.
At first, his desire to become a Hero had been simple—to live freely, passionately, and without restraint. A life filled with excitement.
But now… did true freedom even exist in this society?
When he had first arrived in this superhuman world, he'd been naïve.
Absolute freedom didn't exist anywhere.
With a serious expression, Masata left the lounge and returned to the classroom, sitting down at his desk and falling into quiet thought.
"Masata, what's wrong with you? Are you… angry at me?"
His thoughts were suddenly interrupted.
When he looked up, he saw Yaoyorozu Momo—with Uraraka Ochaco beside her—walking over.
"Momo," Masata asked suddenly, "what do you think freedom is?"
The more he thought about it, the more confused he became. Maybe hearing someone else's perspective would help.
"Freedom…?"
Momo tilted her head slightly. "That's a difficult thing to define precisely. It's a personal idea—an ideal state."
Although she was puzzled by Masata asking something so unlike him, she still answered patiently.
"For example, someone who hates restrictions might feel freedom by running along the beach. Another person, under the same conditions, might not even plan to go running—but once they reach the beach and start running without thinking, they feel free in their heart."
"One person finds freedom through running. The other runs because they feel free. Their starting points are different, but the result is the same."
Masata stared at her blankly, not fully understanding.
Then memories surfaced—moments from childhood to now.
Shared laughter. Arguments. Comfort. Support.
All of it played through his mind like scenes from a film.
Looking at Momo, still carefully answering him in front of his desk, Masata suddenly realized something.
The confusion lifted.
He stood up abruptly—and hugged her.
"Hahaha! Life goals and grand ideals are still way too far away, aren't they?"
"Isn't it better to enjoy what's right in front of us? I was just overthinking things."
"After all," he said softly, "power is just power. What really matters… are people."
Remembering Mineta's words from earlier, Masata didn't hesitate. With his other arm, he pulled Uraraka Ochaco—who hadn't expected it at all—into the hug as well.
"Chacha should always be happy!"
Although she didn't quite understand what nonsense Masata was suddenly spouting, it was obvious that his mood had lifted.
Being hugged so openly in front of everyone made Momo blush deeply—but she was happy.
Then, noticing Masata's hand at her side, Momo secretly reached out and pinched the soft flesh at his waist.
"Hiss—!"
The attack was simple—but devastating. Even Masata sucked in a sharp breath.
"H-Hey…!"
Feeling like a total scumbag, Masata avoided her gaze, laughing awkwardly—but his arms tightened around the two girls anyway.
I'll make sure you're always happy, he silently promised himself.
Neither the three of them—nor the classmates who were loudly teasing—noticed a thin blond man standing silently at the classroom doorway, watching the scene.
"It seems you've found what you truly want, Igarashi boy…"
In a hidden bar, dim lights cast long, twisted shadows along the walls.
A thin man sat alone at the counter. His shadow stretched endlessly, like a demon crawling out of a shattered cage.
"They completely ignored the attack I caused?!"
Seeing the broadcast about U.A.'s upcoming Sports Festival, Tomura Shigaraki kicked the computer tower in rage.
His hands clawed through his dry hair as his teeth ground together. The deathly hand slipped from his grip and slammed against the chair.
"I really want to put my hands into the Sports Festival, teacher!"
After a long silence, the TV screen flickered to life.
A blurred figure appeared.
"Patience, Shigaraki," the voice said calmly.
"The U.A. Sports Festival gathers the nation's top Heroes. Even Kurogiri wouldn't be able to save you if you showed yourself now."
The figure wasn't irritated by Shigaraki's childish fury—only analytical.
"What you lack least is time. It's not yet your moment to stand in the world's spotlight."
"But teacher…" Shigaraki muttered, scratching his neck.
"I'm very interested in that magma brat. Maybe… he'll become a companion someday."
Though the figure was vague, an eerie smile seemed to form.
The screen went dark.
The bar fell silent once more.
After school.
"Hey, hey! What's going on?! Haven't you all gone home yet?"
Pushing open the classroom door, Masata and the others froze.
The hallway was packed with people—so crowded that the exit was completely blocked.
Still shy after Masata's sudden hug earlier, Ochaco clutched Momo's hand tightly and followed behind him.
"Tch. Probably here to scout enemies," Bakugo said coldly as he walked forward.
"We're the class that survived a villain attack, after all."
"So you're here fishing for information?" Masata said, immediately understanding.
"It's a waste of effort," Bakugo scoffed. "Get out of the way."
He shoved through the crowd without another word—completely ignoring everyone.
A purple-haired boy with tired, fish-like eyes stepped forward.
"So this is Class A? You all really act this smug?"
"Are Hero Course students all this arrogant?"
"Many of us were assigned to the General Course because we failed the rankings," he continued.
"But the Sports Festival gives us a chance to transfer back based on performance."
"The reverse is also true."
"So yeah—we're here to declare war."
Before he finished, another boy with silver hair and an explosive personality shouted from the crowd:
"I'm from Class B next door! I heard you fought villains, so I came to ask a few questions! What's with the attitude?!"
Bakugo didn't even turn around.
He simply walked away.