Chapter Text
The whistle of the missile flew by his pointed, elflike ear. A ponytail of short blue tentacles dodged the missile strike, as the slender teen acrobatically dodged the blast. He kicked off the ground, his Purple High-Horses leaving behind a bit of dust as he avoided another missile. Spinning around the three point bot, the teen lifted his weapon, a green gun with a blue capsule on top. He pulled the trigger, dousing the robot with blue ink. The unfettered robot rolled around to face him, but the teen smirked. Holding out his arm, he closed it in a fist, as the robot sparked out and fell to the ground.
The boy, Atarime Ayato, let out a full grin as he rushed back into the streets to find another robot. He lowered his pilot goggles to cover his narrowed eyes as he sped past dust left behind by other examinees. Another robot, a two pointer, abruptly stepped out of the dust cloud. Pumping the Splattershot in his hands, he sprayed the floor, allowing him to transform into a squid and swim underneath the two pointer. He quickly transformed back underneath the robot, allowing him to soak the undersides with his ink. Sliding out from underneath the robot, Ayato pushed upward with his empty left hand, causing the robot to short out just as several pieces of debris flew into its head.
The crab-like machine fell down, its legs scraping outward. Ayato nodded to himself. He wasn’t sure what to do as he couldn’t hear any other robots near him, but he could still hear them in the distance. He turned to leave. Just then, a hand tapped his shoulder. Beside him was another examinee, seemingly upset that he took out her robot. Not that he could tell, as half her face was obscured by her white hair.
She tilted her head, looking him in the eye. “Are you alright?”
Ayato paused, “What do you mean?”
“The machine seemed to have fallen on you.”
“Oh, yeah, my quirk allows me to avoid that. Now, I gotta go.” He sped off.
Her hand lowered, hanging in front of her chest. She silently watched him run.
Meanwhile, Ayato continued to dispatch the enemies with the simple combo of spray and crush. He did also have a creative experience with a one-pointer, where he tore the tire off with his quirk. These robots really were fragile. He ignored the other examinees, because really, if he could destroy them with his quirk, anyone could!
Ayato swiftly sprayed the floor, granting him the ability to swim past various debris and destroyed robots laid out like a messy child’s desk. Suddenly, a rumbling alerted him. Buildings shook as damaged rubble dropped onto the streets. Even more abruptly, dozens of examinees, all sporting various appearances and workout clothes, ran in his direction like rats from a cat. They rushed from behind him and out into other streets. The Zero-Pointer was here. Ayato deftly avoided falling debris and escaping teenagers and bared a full grin. He transformed and swam beneath the other people towards the massive tank-like robot.
Reaching the treads, he began inking them, periodically using his quirk to attempt to pull tank wheels off the giant robot. The robot, barely inhibited, used its arms to slowly swing at the buildings, raining down more rubble. Ayato continued to dodge and fire, however, despite the futility. He racked his mind, frantically finding a way to stop or disable the robot, but he found none. A block of concrete slammed down on his left, making him leap to his right, where another chunk fell. He smacked into the chunk and fell down, weapon forgotten. An imprint of blue ink marked the concrete and dripped down to his bent over body. He heaved out, cursing his immobility.
That’s it! Mobility! Energy renewed, Ayato hurriedly grabbed his Splattershot, with a plan to
“TIME’S UP!”
ink and slow… it… down…
He sighed. Time to go home. The tired examinees slowly made their way to the exit of the testing city. As Ayato walked out, he sensed a pair of footsteps beside him. The same white-haired girl from the middle of the exam was walking next to him. She leaned towards him, as if to tell a secret, and
“Boo,” she deadpanned.
Ayato smiled, “Thanks for the assist!”
“I greatly accept your gratitude,” she stated.
They walked for a bit.
“You know, I never caught your name,” Ayato expectantly said.
“Then perhaps it shall remain a mystery to the end of time,” she answered, again with an empty face.
Ayato chuckled. He was excited to see his results. He knew his father would be ecstatic if he got in.
A man placed a paper down. The paper was a form, a form to change a pro hero’s name. The man was in an office, full of plaques and old photos. He glanced at the photos around him, thinking of the legacy that he decided to carry on. Something that his older brother and sister couldn’t accomplish. His eyes drifted once again. A family photo. An old man, his father, a short white haired girl, his sister, a tall man with green tentacles, his brother, and himself. He pressed his hands onto his face, onto a black marking around his eyes. “So tedious…”
He opened his yellow eyes, sighing. Was it too much to want to honor his father? After all the man did to him... Especially as the number 11 pro hero, he knew that being right beneath the top places makes you unnoticeable. Even worse is when the name doesn’t even line up with the ranking. Agent 3? When you haven’t even broke into the top tens? A name change could fix that, to honor former top 10 pro hero Captain Cuttlefish. His father really leaned into the Cuttlefish branding, although they both had squid mutations. Either way, he was lucky making it this far without a super flashy quirk. Who was he kidding, his quirk was very flashy. And messy, too. At least his ink dissolved within a few hours.
Leaning back on the chair, he raised his hand up. He missed his brother. He missed his wife. He missed the simple happiness that he had back when things were normal. He loved Tsubaki. He had fun with Naruhito. He enjoyed himself. He was there for his sister when she joined heroics. He was there when Naruhito’s daughter, Aori was born. Then Naruhito died. Tsubaki disappeared. His sister abandoned them. he pushed her away All he had left was his newborn son and his father. He clenched his hand. Yellow ink dripped onto his face from his palm.
Speaking of family, he thought of his son. Did he pass the U.A. Entrance Exam? Was he doing well? He didn't deserve to ask those questions. He didn't deserve this role. But he doesn't want his son to believe he hates him. Ayato was all he had… and his nieces, too. But he and Ayato… Atarime San-Go just hoped his son would become great one day, greater than him. He stood up, leaving the papers behind. The wound on his hand closed.
“Well,” Nezu clapped his paws together, “Looks like we have a varied collection of new students arriving!”
He sat at a long table, featuring all of the teachers of UA. Each of which were in casual clothing, rubbing their eyes. With the exception of the heroes, the collection of teachers were tired. Even then, they held a degree of professionality. Lights flashed on the screens behind them, drawing their attention. The screens in the darkened room showed scenes of several different examinees, with different abilities being showcased. A black-haired teenager, fusing robot parts together. A small purple child, using his purple balls to stick robots to the ground. A vine-haired girl, hands clasped in prayer, as the vines whipped and thrashed at the robots around her.
On the opposite hand, some screens also showed examinees who did poorly in crisis. A green haired boy, running around aimlessly. A purple haired teen, shouting things at other examinees, only to get attacked because of his lack of attention to his surroundings. A long-chinned boy shoving another examinee aside without reason.
Nezu spoke up, once again, “I am ecstatic to see how these new arrivals will shape up and how their potential will be honed. First of all: I will announce the results of the Heroics Exam!”
Even if plenty of the teachers there weren’t heroics teachers, seeing which students signed up into heroics is telling of the student’s character. UA didn’t have interviews, as there were hundreds of applicants and a double digit number of teachers. So watching how students act in duress is desirable to a teacher. They get to study each applicant’s critical thinking, intelligent decisions, and compassion. They examined the highest ranking scores from the heroics test, the top fifty, to be exact. Any student can be intelligent, but unless their written exam has immensely noteworthy attributes, they will most likely not get in from intelligence only. Of course, since this is a heroics school and not just any normal school with a focus on academics, there is an inherent bias towards the heroics exam.
Teachers access a student’s records, determine if they are worth taking on to the school, and make their decision based on various criteria. Each personal vote will then be even more criteria for Nezu, as he can override decisions and has the final say because of his almost one-of-a-kind intelligence quirk.
Records may be the make or break moment for a student’s career. If an applicant is endorsed by a pro hero, they are most likely going in. As Atarime Ayato is the son of the 11th Pro Hero: Agent 3, that already provides proof of both of their sincerity. Recommendations exams aren’t the only exams where endorsement matters. Also, if a student has stains from legal issues, then they are not going in. Take one Awase Yotetsu. While he did get both rescue and villain points, his rude demeanor and charges from public quirk usage denied him entry. When a teacher’s decision to remove a student is vetoed, Nezu himself will investigate the student’s past and current demeanor, to assess if the student really deserves to be denied entry into UA. Such is the case for one Midoriya Izuku. While he acted poorly under a tense situation, and mangled his body after one attack, he did deserve the 60 rescue points sent his way. Teachers also noted that his records stated him as a troublemaker, but an investigation from Nezu denied that.
The reviewing phase takes place about a week, with each teacher choosing 5 students to recommend a pass and student to deny entry to the hero course. Once the week is over, letters are shipped out. As All Might is the newest teacher, he was filmed for each holographic message. With the amount of reviews, cross-referencing, and arguments over the worthiness of certain students, sleep was very limited for the teachers. Not that they had any already.
Ayato and San–Go sat across from each other. The dining table was empty, with the exception of one manila envelope. The acceptance letter. They would look at each other, then the envelope. Then each other again. Then the envelope again. Suddenly, a doorbell rang. Ayato excused himself from the table and walked to the door. In walked two girls, the same height as each other, one with black tentacles for hair and the other having normal white hair. His cousins, Aori and Hotaru. Aori smiled and leapt at him, pulling Ayato into a hug. Her two black tentacles wrapped around his leg slightly, the pink tips lightly gripping his calf. Hotaru, on the other hand, stood there with a half smile. Her white hair was tied in a bow and her plus-shaped pupils shined with happiness, despite her lack of excitement. Aori let go and hopped back, bouncing next to her sister.
“Ayato! How are you? It’s been so long since we’ve last seen you!” Aori excitedly asked.
“She means, ‘Why haven’t you called us?’” Hotaru corrected, “We never even knew you had a phone until San-Gojisan told us.”
Ayato’s father facepalmed at the nickname, muttering, "Disrespectful nieces…" while Ayato laughed. His laughter slowed after a moment.
“I just… don’t really use my phone much. Besides, I was preparing for the exam.”
“You’ve been doing that for the past year,” Hotaru huffed, looking him in the eye, "and you haven't finished setting up your apartment. Maybe you don't really want it."
"Well…" Ayato trailed off.
While they were more than well-off, Ayato wished to live in his own apartment, as he knew that his father being a hero means he’ll likely be in the crossfire more than once. As the deed was in his uncle’s name, not his father’s, he was more than happy with the fact that the likelihood of being tracked down as a hero's son would be poor. As a relative to a fashion designer, however… Either way, he still didn’t have that much money to his name. Trying to get a job has been difficult for the hero's son, as he is still 15. So setting up the apartment has been really inconsistent for a long time. The apartment wasn't that big, but he still had a mostly undecorated room and less kitchen supplies than he hoped. He had all the basics, but he had to save for big spends. Besides, it's not like he could use half of the facilities, anyway. The table, at least, was of decent quality.
"You know," San-Go said, still with his hand on his face, "I could have set this place up with a snap. Get some movers in, work on decorations, bring a lot of things from your old room here."
"That still would make it obvious I'm your son," Ayato countered, "What movers would say no to you? That knowledge could leak."
"You don't want to be my son?" San-Go's hand drifted to his chest as he leaned back with a pained look in his eyes, "Critical Hit! Not my son, too!"
Ignoring his father's groans, Ayato turned to his cousins. It has been some time since they have last met, with Aori looking for a support company to work for while her half-sister Hotaru tries to balance being a second-year in UA's support course and being the daughter of a famous fashion designer.
"So, can we see the results from your letter? Pretty please?" Aori asks, excitedly bouncing once more.
"Aori, please sit down," her sister says, a small smile on her face, "This table has four seats for a reason."
"Okay!"
Ayato sits down as well, prepared for disappointment, excited for victory. He reaches forward, and tears open the folder. His family leaned in. He reached his hand further in. They leaned in even more, faces all touching. Their cheeks pressed against one another.
"Could you not?" Ayato exasperatedly asked.
They all leaned back, simultaneously. Ayato poured out the envelope, letting a circular device fall out, as well as a slip of paper. Immediately, a hologram popped up.
During All Might's presentation, San-Go picked up the paper while his son and nieces watched the video. After their celebration, in which Aori jumped and started hugging Ayato while Hotaru just looked happy that another relative will be at UA the same time as her, San-Go began to skim the letter.
"Congratulations for passing the exam. You earned 54 villain points and 10 rescue points… Supplies will be picked up here, this stuff will be provided by the school, please submit a hero design," he listed out, "and… Aha! You will be in… Class 1B! Nice!"
"Nice?" Ayato parroted, "Why?"
San-Go replied, "Because the 1A teacher expels his students quite frequently, at the beginning of the year. I don't know him personally, but yeesh, that's a way to teach a lesson."
"Huh…"
"Anyway!" Aori interrupted, "Can we design your hero outfit?"
"No, I have plans."
"Would those plans be that robot suit that you drew when we were kids?" Hotaru shot.
"N-no…"
"Are those plans the samurai outfit you drew in the fifth grade?" She fired twice.
"You don't even know what it'll look like!" Ayato countered.
"And I don't want to."
"Anyway, that isn't exactly what my plans are. What my plans are," he paused for dramatic effect, then explained his plan for a hero costume.
"That's stupid."
"But…?"
Hotaru smirked, "It works. I'll still design parts of it, and you can't stop me."
Ayato lowered his head, "Fine…"