Observation Room – U.A. High, Main Campus
In another place, a bit farther away from the testing zones, the observation room buzzed with a quiet tension. Rows of high-definition monitors displayed feeds from each exam arena - labeled A through G - each showing smoke, fire, collapsing structures, and robots rampaging like wild beasts.
"Zero-pointer spotted in Zone A," Cementoss said, tapping a key. "They're all releasing on schedule."
"Zone B's is already active too," Snipe confirmed. "They're set to engage in waves, keep the pressure up."
"Good," Nezu murmured from his perch beside the main console. "It ensures every group is tested under similar high-stress conditions."
Aizawa scanned the feeds in silence, eyes flitting between screens. Bakugo appeared in multiple windows, a fiery blur leaping from building to building. His explosions echoed through the speakers, each detonation more aggressive than the last.
"He's tearing through robots," Cementoss noted. "Over fifty points already, and no signs of slowing."
Aizawa clicked his tongue. "Efficient. But no awareness of anyone else. He could've helped that girl three minutes ago - chose to ignore her."
"Isn't this a combat test?" Midnight asked, raising a brow.
"It's more than that," Nezu said softly, ever smiling. "The point values are only part of the story. The real heroes reveal themselves in how they act under pressure... especially toward others."
On a side monitor, Souta Todoroki appeared - calm and calculated, weaving between robots with controlled bursts of blue flame. His technique was tight. Economical. He wasn't racking up points as fast as Bakugo, but his impact was unmistakable.
"There he is again," Vlad King pointed. "Zone B. He's holding back."
"No," Aizawa said, narrowing his eyes. "He's conserving."
The staff watched as Souta disabled two bots with precision fire, then immediately pivoted to help a panicked student pinned by debris. No hesitation. No wasted motion.
"That's the third time he's rescued someone," Recovery Girl said, adjusting her glasses. "Even when he seems to burn himself with his quirk."
Nezu leaned forward, slightly intrigued. "He has a high-temperature fire quirk, but it seems to have no resistance, doesn't it?"
"That does seem to be the case," Aizawa added. "His skin's reddening. Hands, forearms. He's hurting himself more than those robots are able to."
"And he's still going," Recovery Girl muttered. "That boy's going to definitely need treatment afterward."
"But he keeps helping," Midnight said quietly.
"And that's what the hidden points are for," Nezu said, clasping his paws together. "Rescue points are given for actions that reflect heroism in its truest form. He's earning more than most of the top scorers."
The camera angle shifted again, showing Souta sprinting toward a crushed billboard, the hulking shadow of a Zone B zero-pointer looming over a trapped student. Fire erupted from his hands – this time not as a weapon, but as a tool - melting through the steel pinning the other boy in place. His uniform scorched, his arms blistered, Souta still didn't hesitate.
"He knows he's hurting himself," Aizawa said flatly. "But he kept going anyway."
"That one's got the heart of a hero," Cementoss said. "Maybe not the flashiest right now, but... it's there."
Silence followed, broken only by the hum of the monitors.
Then one of the main screens flared to life.
Zone A.
The zero-pointer there had reached its full height, a metal titan crushing buildings beneath its massive treads. Most students had fled. The crowd running away.
Except for two.
One was a girl, currently stuck under some rubble, unable to escape in time.
As for the other, a boy with messy green hair could be seen rushing in the direction of the Zero-pointer, seeming intent on a confrontation with it.
"Young Midoriya," All Might whispered, stepping closer to the glass.
Izuku was charging towards the machine - quaking, unsure, but utterly determined. They all saw him leap skyward, power surging through her limbs, one fist pulled back, glowing.
And then—
BOOOM.
The punch landed like thunder. The zero-pointer's head dented in heavily, its massive frame falling to the ground backwards.
For a moment, there was only silence.
Then gasps.
Even the staff, jaded as they were, stared in awe.
"Completely defeated it in one punch," Snipe muttered. "Didn't think that was possible."
"He broke himself doing it," Recovery Girl said, already scribbling notes. "One arm, both legs. Clean fractures. I'll need him in the ward as soon as the bots lift him. Was lucky enough that the girl caught him."
But All Might was smiling. Wide. Radiant.
His voice, low but full of something warm and deep, filled the room. 'That's my successor.'
As the zero-pointer collapsed behind his nearly unconscious form, the scene returned to quiet.
On another monitor, Souta was being lifted away by drones, arms still smoldering. On a third, Bakugo stood among a group of destroyed robots in triumph.
The exam was over.
The scoreboard didn't show everything.
But the teachers - they saw it all.
---
Todoroki Residence – Kitchen Table, Three Days Later
The morning sun filtered through the wide windows of the Todoroki household, casting long shadows over the wooden table. A quiet clink of chopsticks echoed in the otherwise peaceful breakfast scene. Fuyumi hummed softly while pouring tea, Natsuo scrolled through his phone, and Shoto sat with his usual, unreadable calm, poking at a bowl of miso soup.
Souta, still bandaged across his arms, moved a bit slower than usual but otherwise looked well. His burns had mostly healed, thanks to Recovery Girl - and Fuyumi's obsessively regimented care afterward.
Then, a sharp ding broke the quiet.
Souta looked up.
Two sleek envelopes lay on the table now, projected in thin blue light. Holographic seals stamped with the U.A. emblem shimmered and spun mid-air - one marked Recommended and the other General Entrance.
Shoto calmly reached for his first.
"It's automated, right?" Natsuo asked, though he glanced at the envelope like it might explode.
Shoto tapped the envelope. A warm flicker of energy spun outward, and a bright image materialized - Principal Nezu, perched on his desk, legs swinging like a child's, voice as chipper as ever.
"Congratulations, Todoroki Shoto! I must say, your performance in the recommended student exam was… well, let's just say we had a few professors place bets, and I won quite a few tea cakes."
Shoto blinked.
Fuyumi smiled proudly, giving Shoto a soft clap on the shoulder. "I knew you'd pass."
Shoto gave a small nod. "Thank you."
The message ended with a golden U.A. crest and a quick burst of confetti. Then all eyes turned to Souta.
His envelope hovered silently in front of him. He stared at it for a second, then sighed and tapped it open with a fingertip.
Nezu again - this time standing atop a miniature podium shaped like a first-place trophy. He waved with both paws and an overly dramatic bow.
"Souta Todoroki! Now you were an interesting one to grade."
Souta sat straighter.
"You ranked among the top scorers in the whole exam - well done. Your combat score wasn't the highest, but you handled the practical exam with remarkable precision and self-restraint. Though I must say, do try not to fry yourself next time." He waggled a paw playfully.
Toya nearly spat out his rice upon hearing that, trying to hold back his laughter.
Nezu leaned closer into the projection, his voice dropping slightly. "But what impressed us most wasn't your technique – it was your choices. You didn't just destroy robots. You saved your peers. You helped without hesitation. And that, my boy, is something we consider very... heroic."
A pause. Then the words lit up behind him:
> U.A. Entrance Exam – Result: PASSED
> Ranking: Tied for First Place (with Katsuki Bakugo)
> Villain Points: 40
> Rescue Points: 40
"Funny how that works," Nezu mused, turning to sip from a tiny teacup. "You had fewer robot takedowns, but rescue points? You crushed it."
Souta blinked, stunned. Even Shoto gave a brief glance of recognition.
"Good job, little bro," Natsuo said with a crooked smile.
"You earned it," Fuyumi added, squeezing his shoulder gently.
Souta's fingers closed around the edge of the hologram, as if anchoring himself to the moment. "Tied for first," he said, almost to himself. 'With Bakugo.'
The message ended with a little fanfare, and the crest of U.A. spun above the table before dissolving into soft golden particles.
Souta let out a long breath and leaned back in his chair. The bandages on his arms itched faintly, but the weight in his chest felt lighter than it had in weeks.