The morning of the Sports Festival, I wake up to seventeen missed calls from Nejire.
Seventeen.
"Jesus Christ," I mutter, checking my phone. The first call was at 5:30 AM. The most recent was three minutes ago.
I call her back.
"SHINRA!" Her voice is so loud I have to hold the phone away from my ear. "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?! I'VE BEEN CALLING FOR HOURS!"
"It's 6 AM, Nejire. Normal people sleep until reasonable hours."
"THIS IS NOT A TIME FOR REASONABLE! TODAY IS THE FESTIVAL! THE MOST IMPORTANT DAY OF OUR LIVES SO FAR!"
I can practically hear her bouncing through the phone.
"Did you eat breakfast? Are you nervous? Did you sleep okay? I didn't sleep at all! I've been up since four planning strategies and—"
"Nejire."
"—thinking about what the first event might be and whether we should—"
"Nejire."
"—coordinate our costumes somehow so people know we're a team and—"
"NEJIRE."
She finally stops talking.
"Breathe," I tell her. "We've got this."
"But what if we don't? What if I mess up? What if my quirk stops working? What if I forget how to fly? What if—"
"Then we'll figure it out. Together. Like we always do."
There's a pause. "Together?"
"Obviously. You think I'm going into this alone?"
I hear her take a shaky breath. "Okay. Together. We've got this."
"We've got this," I confirm. "Now go eat breakfast before you pass out."
"Already did! Three bowls of cereal and two energy bars!"
"Jesus. You're gonna crash harder than Mirio through a floor."
"MIRIO!" she shrieks. "I haven't called Mirio yet! What if he overslept? What if he forgot? What if—"
"I'm hanging up now."
"Wait! What if—"
I hang up. My phone immediately starts ringing again.
I ignore it and drag myself to the kitchen, where Grandpa is already awake, reading the newspaper with a cup of coffee.
"Big day," he says without looking up.
"Yep."
"You ready?"
"Probably not. But I'm as ready as I'm gonna get."
He nods approvingly. "Good answer. Confidence is important, but overconfidence gets you killed."
"Encouraging pep talk, thanks."
"I don't do pep talks. I do reality checks." He folds his newspaper and looks at me seriously. "You've trained hard. Your control has improved significantly. Your power output is higher than it was two weeks ago. You work well with your teammates."
"But?"
"But the Sports Festival isn't just about individual ability. It's about adapting to unexpected situations, thinking strategically under pressure, and maintaining your composure when millions of people are watching."
Great. No pressure.
"The events will test you in ways you haven't prepared for," he continues. "The key is to stay flexible, trust your training, and remember that your quirk is just a tool. Your mind is your real weapon."
"Any other sage advice?"
"Don't die. It reflects poorly on my training methods."
"I'll keep that in mind."
My phone buzzes with a text. Then another. Then about fifteen more in rapid succession.
"Popular this morning," Grandpa observes.
I check my messages. They're from everyone—Nejire (obviously), Tamaki (surprisingly), even some of my other classmates. All variations of "good luck today" and "let's do our best."
The one from Tamaki just says: I ate a balanced breakfast. Ready for battle.
Which, for Tamaki, is basically a war cry.
—
UA is a circus when I arrive.
There are news vans everywhere, reporters setting up equipment, camera crews testing angles. The normally quiet campus is buzzing with activity as students from all departments stream toward the main buildings.
"This is insane," I mutter, pushing through the crowd.
"SHINRA!"
I turn to see Nejire barreling toward me, her festival PE uniform already wrinkled despite the day barely starting. She crashes into me with enough force to knock me backward.
"I'm so nervous I think I might throw up!" she announces cheerfully.
"Please don't. I don't want to smell like vomit during the festival."
"Right! Strategic thinking! Where are Tamaki and Mirio?"
"Probably trying not to get trampled by reporters."
We make our way toward the prep areas, dodging camera crews and overly enthusiastic announcers. The energy is electric—literally, in some cases, as students with electricity-based quirks are sparking with nerves.
We find Tamaki hiding behind a vending machine, looking like he wants to disappear entirely.
"You okay?" I ask.
"There are so many people," he whispers. "So many cameras. Everyone's watching."
"Hey." I put a hand on his shoulder. "Look at me."
He glances up reluctantly.
"We trained for this. We're ready. And when you're out there, don't think about the cameras or the crowds. Just focus on us, okay? Your team."
He nods slowly. "Team."
"Team," Nejire confirms, appearing beside us. "Where's Mirio?"
"Present!" Mirio's voice comes from somewhere inside the vending machine.
We all stare at it.
"Mirio?" I call. "Why are you inside a vending machine?"
"I was trying to phase past the reporters and got stuck! Can someone buy a soda? I think it'll help me get out!"
"How does buying a soda help you phase out of a vending machine?" Nejire asks.
"I don't know! I'm not a physicist!"
I sigh and feed coins into the machine. A can of coffee drops down, and Mirio phases through the front panel, landing in a heap on the ground.
"Thanks! Though I think I accidentally grabbed someone's lunch money on the way through. Is that theft?"
"Probably," I tell him. "Add it to your list of crimes against physics."
"Speaking of crimes," a familiar voice says behind us, "you all look nervous."
We turn to find Aizawa approaching, somehow looking even more tired than usual. Which is impressive, considering his baseline exhaustion levels.
"Sensei!" Nejire brightens immediately. "Are you here to give us encouragement?"
"I'm here to tell you not to embarrass the hero course." His expression is completely flat. "The whole country is watching. Try not to make me look bad."
"That's... not really encouraging," Tamaki mumbles.
"I don't do encouragement. I do expectations. My expectation is that you'll perform to the level of your training."
"And if we don't?" Mirio asks cheerfully.
"Then you'll learn from failure and do better next time. Assuming there is a next time."
Classic Aizawa.
"The opening ceremony starts in twenty minutes," he continues. "Get to the prep areas, do whatever pre-competition rituals you need to do, and try not to psyche yourselves out."
He starts to walk away, then pauses. "Also, Togata, keep your clothes on. The broadcast standards department has already called twice."
"It was one time!" Mirio protests.
"It was three times. During orientation week."
As Aizawa disappears into the crowd, we look at each other.
"Well," I say, "that was motivating."
"In a completely terrifying way," Nejire adds.
"I should probably find some protein," Tamaki says. "In case I need to transform during the events."
"Good thinking. What are you considering?"
"I brought emergency octopus. And some beef jerky. Maybe some nuts for agility enhancements."
"You brought emergency octopus to school?"
"The cafeteria helped me prepare a tactical nutrition plan."
Of course they did. Only at UA would the lunch staff help a student plan combat rations.
"What about you two?" Tamaki asks. "Any last-minute preparations?"
I check my gear—insulated gloves, costume adjustments, small medical kit. Everything looks good.
"I think I'm set," I say. "Nejire?"
"I've been ready since 4 AM!" she declares. "Though I should probably try to calm down before I vibrate out of my skin."
"Deep breaths," I tell her. "We've got this."
"We've got this," she repeats, taking a shaky breath.
"We've got this," Tamaki echoes quietly.
"WE'VE GOT THIS!" Mirio shouts, loud enough to attract stares from nearby students.
Despite everything, I can't help but smile. Yeah, we're nervous. Yeah, we're probably in over our heads. But we're together.
And maybe that's enough.
"Come on," I say, checking the time. "Let's go show the world what Class 1-A can do."
As we head toward the prep areas, the crowd noise gets louder, the cameras more numerous, the energy more intense. In a few minutes, we'll be out there in front of millions of viewers, competing for our futures.
But right now, we're just four friends trying not to panic.
It's a good feeling.
—
The prep area is chaos. Students from all departments are gathered in their respective sections, some stretching, some reviewing strategies, others just trying not to throw up from nerves.
"Holy shit," I breathe, looking around. "There are so many people."
"Language," Nejire says automatically, then immediately adds, "but yeah, holy shit."
Our Class 1-A section is smaller than the others—we've only got nine people compared to the full classes from other departments. But what we lack in numbers, we make up for in nervous energy.
Tanaka is reviewing notes on a tablet, probably strategy guides he prepared weeks in advance. Sato is doing stretches that look more like yoga than warm-ups. Yoshida is talking to himself, either giving a pep talk or having a breakdown—hard to tell.
"How's everyone feeling?" I ask, approaching our classmates.
"Terrified," Kishimoto admits. "But ready."
"Prepared," Tanaka says, not looking up from his tablet. "I've analyzed footage from the last five festivals and identified seventeen possible event types."
"Overthinking," Sato says gently. "But I appreciate the dedication."
"What about you, Shinra?" Nakamura asks. "Ready to show off that lightning quirk?"
"Ready to not electrocute anyone accidentally," I reply. "That's my main goal."
"Aim higher," Yoshida suggests. "We're representing the hero course. We need to dominate."
"We need to not embarrass ourselves," I counter. "Domination is a bonus."
Before anyone can argue, Present Mic's voice booms through the speakers.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, STUDENTS AND FACULTY, WELCOME TO THE UA SPORTS FESTIVAL!"
The crowd noise is deafening, even from inside the prep area. I can hear cheering, air horns, the general chaos of thousands of excited spectators.
"In five minutes, all first-year students will proceed to the main stadium for the opening ceremony! GET READY TO SHOW THE WORLD WHAT YOU'RE MADE OF!"
Five minutes.
"This is it," Nejire says, grabbing my hand. "This is really happening."
"Yep," I squeeze her hand back. "Still got this?"
"Still got this."
Around us, our classmates are doing final preparations—adjusting gear, eating last-minute snacks, taking deep breaths. The energy is nervous but determined.
We're as ready as we're going to be.
Time to find out what we're really made of.
—
The stadium is massive.
Like, stupidly massive. I've seen it on TV, but being here in person is something else entirely. The stands are packed with thousands of spectators, camera crews are positioned at every angle, and the energy is so intense I can practically taste it.
"Welcome, first-year students, to the UA Sports Festival!" Present Mic's voice echoes through the stadium as we march out in our department groups. "These amazing young people represent the future of hero society!"
The crowd noise is deafening. I try not to look up at all the people watching, but it's impossible to ignore. There are so many of them.
"Representing the Hero Course, we have Classes 1-A and 1-B!" Present Mic continues as we take our positions. "The Support Course! General Studies! And the Business Course!"
The ceremony proceeds with typical UA pageantry, introduction of the faculty, explanation of the festival's importance, the usual speeches about Plus Ultra and representing the school.
Then Midnight steps up to the microphone, and my stomach drops.
"And now," she announces, "the student pledge! This year's representative, with the highest entrance exam scores among first-year students, is Shinra Torino from Class 1-A!"
Oh shit. Right.
Everything goes quiet. Well, not literally quiet—the crowd is still cheering—but in my head, everything just stops. I completely forgot that I was supposed to do this. Between all the training and festival prep, the whole "top student gives a speech" thing completely slipped my mind.
"Go," Nejire whispers, giving me a gentle push. "You've got this."
I really don't got this. I have absolutely zero preparation for this.
But I'm walking toward the podium anyway, because apparently my legs have decided to function independently of my brain. The crowd noise fades to a dull roar as I approach the microphone.
Right. Highest entrance exam scores. 113 points total. Because I took down the zero-pointer to save someone. I knew this was coming and somehow completely blanked on it.
I look out at the sea of faces—students, faculty, spectators, cameras. All waiting for me to say something inspiring.
Shit.
I clear my throat. The microphone squeaks with feedback.
"Um." Great start. "Hi."
Some scattered laughter from the crowd. Okay, at least they don't hate me yet.
"I'm Shinra Torino, and I... honestly forgot about the speech.."
More laughter. I can work with this.
"When I applied to UA, I wasn't even sure I wanted to be a hero." The words come out before I can stop them, but somehow it feels right to say it. "I spent most of my life thinking it wasn't possible for someone like me. That maybe I wasn't cut out for it."
The stadium has gotten quieter. People are actually listening.
"But being here, at UA, with all of you... it's changed my perspective. I've seen the reasons why my classmates want to be heroes. Some want to save people from natural disasters. Others want to protect those who can't protect themselves. Some want to prove that any quirk can be heroic."
I can see Nejire in the crowd, beaming up at me. Tamaki nodding seriously. Even Mirio giving me a thumbs up.
"And I realized that I have my own reason now. Someone once said that with great power comes great responsibility." I pause, feeling the truth of it settle in my chest. "I have power. More than I ever expected to have. And that means I have a responsibility to use it right. To protect people. To be better than I was yesterday."
And it's true, I think. Being here really has changed everything. Seeing Nejire's determination to save people. Tamaki's quiet courage. Even Mirio's ridiculous optimism. They all believe in being heroes, really believe it, and somehow that made me believe it too.
"So today, we're not just competing for rankings or recognition," I continue, my voice getting stronger. "We're showing the world that we understand what it means to be heroes. That we're ready to take on that responsibility."
I look out at my fellow students—not just Class 1-A, but everyone. Support Course kids who'll build the gear that saves lives. General Studies students who might transfer and become heroes themselves. Business Course students who'll help run the agencies that coordinate rescues.
"Let's show them what the next generation can do. Let's show them that we're ready."
I step back from the microphone, and for a moment, there's complete silence.
Then the stadium erupts.
The cheering is deafening. Students are clapping, faculty are nodding approvingly, and somewhere in the crowd I swear I can hear Grandpa's sharp whistle of approval.
As I walk back to my group, Nejire practically tackles me.
"That was amazing!" she shouts over the noise. "I'm crying! Are you crying? I'm definitely crying!"
"It was good," Tamaki says quietly, which from him is basically a standing ovation.
"THAT WAS INCREDIBLE!" Mirio yells. "I got goosebumps! Did everyone get goosebumps?"
Even some of my other classmates are giving me approving nods. Tanaka looks impressed, Sato is actually smiling, and even Yoshida seems grudgingly respectful.
"Not bad, Torino," he says. "Though now we have to live up to it."
"We will," I say, and I actually believe it.
Because it was true. All of it. Being at UA has changed me. Seeing what heroes really do, training with people who genuinely want to save others, learning what it means to have power and use it responsibly—it's made me want to be better.
Maybe I started this journey by accident, powered by a magical fruit from another universe. But I'm choosing to continue it. I'm choosing to be a hero.
And that feels pretty good.
"Alright, future heroes!" Present Mic's voice booms again. "ARE YOU READY FOR THE FIRST EVENT?"
The crowd cheers again, and I can feel the energy building. Whatever comes next, we're ready for it.
We've got this.