U.A. High – Class 1-A, Late Afternoon
The classroom air was quieter than it had been that morning. Not silent - just… subdued. The initial buzz and nerves from orientation had burned out, leaving behind something heavier. More real.
The desks were now filled with tired students. Uniforms back on, skin still damp from post-P.E. showers, some hair half-dried. Kaminari was slumped over his desk like a wilting flower. Kirishima rubbed a sore shoulder and whispered something to Sero that made him laugh. Iida sat straight-backed, somehow still managing perfect posture despite the obvious exhaustion in his eyes.
Souta leaned back in his chair near the window, arms folded, gaze pointed outward but attention fixed inward.
Aizawa stood lazily at the front of the class, barely visible in his yellow sleeping bag. Just a pair of tired eyes and a wild mane of hair poking out from the cocoon.
"You survived," he muttered dryly. "Most of you, anyway."
A few awkward chuckles followed. Even Bakugo didn't snap back - too busy stewing in his own self-declared loss as the second place.
"Tomorrow," Aizawa continued, "you'll begin real classes. Heroics. Combat training. But also, all the other things need to be taught, including Math, Japanese, English and so on. This school doesn't raise celebrities. It makes heroes."
No one interrupted this time.
"Dismissed."
And with that, the school day officially ended.
---
The class filtered out slowly, feet dragging, bags over shoulders. Uraraka walked alongside Midoriya, chatting lightly, trying to cheer him up in her usual warm tone.
Midoriya gave her a tired smile, small and shaky. "I thought I'd do better…"
"You did great!" she said quickly. "I mean, that final throw? You got second place in that discipline! That's amazing!"
Midoriya looked down. "Yeah. But I had to nearly break my arm to do it..."
Behind them, Souta followed at a casual distance. His steps were measured, unhurried. Shoto was beside him, quiet as usual, hands in his pockets, eyes slightly narrowed - thoughtful.
"You were holding back during most of the tests," Shoto said after a beat.
"What was I supposed to do? Would have looked worse if I had grilled myself in those few easy tests," Souta murmured.
"You're not going to last if you keep doing that."
"I'm working on it. May just take some time."
Shoto gave him a look. "You're planning something else?"
Souta didn't answer.
They rounded the corner down the stairs. Ahead of them, Midoriya slowed, adjusting the strap of his bag as the crowd began to thin near the school's exit.
This was it.
Souta glanced toward Shoto, who was veering off to the left, probably heading to the bathroom for a moment.
Then, with a perfect pace adjustment, Souta stepped slightly faster.
And bumped into Midoriya's left side - light, casual, like any tired student not watching where he was going.
"Ah—! Sorry!" Midoriya said quickly, startled but instinctively polite.
"No problem," Souta replied smoothly, brushing past.
The contact was less than a second. But it was enough.
[Quirk 'One For All' detected. Copy?]
Souta immediately agreed in his mind.
[Copying initiated…]
[…copying failed]
[Error]
[Adjusting copy process…]
[Copy process adjusted]
[Copying completed]
[Current quirks copied: 2/4]
- 'Cremation'
- 'One For All'
Now, having copied his second quirk, Souta released a breath he didn't know he was holding.
Upon seeing Shoto return from the bathroom, he excused himself and together with his brother left the school for the day.
He had gotten his hands on his second quirk, and while it was one of the strongest quirks in this world. Well, potentially. It also had even worse drawbacks than his first, Cremation.
He wouldn't have dared to even copy it if he didn't have a fully trained body. Somewhere in his new memories was a scene in which All Might explained that if someone who hasn't conditioned his body to the extremes were to wield this quirk, then their bodies would literally burst.
Still, for now, Souta couldn't just openly use this quirk. Especially not in school. He would need some time, before explaining the truth, at least a partial. It would hinder him too greatly if he were to keep it a secret for too long.
The worst case, being that if he were forced to use another quirk, or copied a passive one, he could be suspected to be involved with All For One. Which couldn't be further from the truth. His quirk had indeed some similarities with the former ones, but it operated completely differently, in his opinion.
The best moment to open up about his secret should be after the USJ Incident. This would also be the moment where he could finally get his hands on one of the most important quirks for the time being.
Super Regeneration.
If the opportunity arrives, he would also not say no to either 'Warpgate' or 'Decay'. The former being the one he rather wanted.
That was not to say that 'Decay' was bad as a quirk per se. It was just that only after the awakening of his quirk that Shigaraki was freely able to control it and choose what would be destroyed and what not.
And to achieve this, he needed over ten years and a battle to the death, accompanied by experiencing a severe trauma. So… in Souta' s mind, 'Warpgate' was the better option right now.
But all this was in the future.
---
Souta and Shoto reached the school gates, the golden light of late afternoon warming the pavement beneath their shoes. The chill of the breeze pulled gently at their uniforms, a quiet reminder that spring hadn't fully let go of winter just yet.
Students passed them, chatting in twos and threes, voices bouncing between tired and excited. Souta didn't pay much attention. His fingers tapped idly against the strap of his bag, mind half-lost in what would await them next.
Training, School, and so much more.
All of it waiting, but not right now.
Right now, he had a walk home, maybe dinner, maybe some light training if Shoto felt like it. Maybe not.
He glanced up at the sky, the color just starting to fade into early evening hues, and for a second, he let his shoulders drop. Not everything had to be so heavy.
"You're thinking too much again," Shoto said, not looking at him.
Souta smirked. "You're one to talk."
Shoto gave a quiet hum of agreement.
They turned the corner, feet falling into rhythm, the day fading behind them with the rustle of leaves and the distant sounds of city life picking up.
No plans. No pressure.
Just two brothers walking home.