As the lunch bell rang, a palpable tension settled over Class 1-A. Back in the classroom, the usual chatter was replaced with a low, anxious hum.
"I bet it's gonna be Mr. Kratos again," said Kaminari, leaning back in his chair. "He looked like he was just getting warmed up yesterday."
"I hope not," Mina Ashido shivered. "My muscles are still screaming."
"Whoever it is, they'd better be ready for a flashy lesson!" Aoyama declared, striking a pose.
Bakugo just scoffed, not offering any words from his side.
Suddenly, the classroom door, which had been slightly ajar, went silent. The idle chatter died down as a new sound reached them.
Thump.
THUMP.
Heavy, deliberate footsteps echoed from the hallway. They were slow, but they carried an impossible weight, a power that seemed to press in on the very air. Everyone froze. The footsteps weren't hurried like Iida's, or silent like Aizawa's. They were... confident. Legendary.
THUMP.
The footsteps stopped directly outside their door.
Silence.
The air in the room grew thick, so heavy you could taste it. Every eye was locked on the entrance. Izuku held his breath, his knuckles white where he gripped his desk. That presence... he knew that presence. It couldn't be. Could it?
"I AM HERE...!"
The door was thrown open with a resounding BANG!, and a colossal figure filled the frame, casting a shadow over the entire classroom.
He stood with his hands on his hips, his body a monument of primary colors—red, white, and blue. Two golden tufts of hair stood up like rabbit ears, framing a smile so bright it could outshine the sun. The sheer pressure of his charisma was a physical force, washing over the students in a tidal wave of awe.
He took a theatrical step inside, his voice a booming baritone that vibrated in their very souls.
"...COMING THROUGH THE DOOR LIKE A NORMAL PERSON!"
For a second, there was only stunned silence.
Then, the room erupted.
"NO WAY!" Kirishima yelled, jumping to his feet.
"It's All Might!" Kaminari shouted, his face a mask of disbelief.
"So he is a teacher here! This year is gonna be totally awesome!"
"His Silver Age costume! He's so cool in person!"
The classroom buzzed with the energy of twenty star-struck teenagers. But Izuku Midoriya was perfectly still. Tears were already welling in his eyes, blurring the image of the hero standing before him. The man who had saved his life. The man who had told him he could be a hero. The man who had passed on his sacred power.
His idol. His mentor. His teacher.
All Might's grin seemed to widen as he took in the explosive reaction from his new students. He was here, and for Class 1-A, nothing would ever be "normal" again.
Because someone else stepped through the door.
The classroom, still vibrating from All Might's presence, froze like a photo. Twenty sets of eyes locked onto the second figure now standing at All Might's side.
Broad. Silent. Stone-faced. His massive arms crossed beneath layers of leather and steel.
Kratos.
And beside his hip, resting on a looped belt strap, was him. The glowing-eyed, grinning head of Mimir, very much alive and already sizing up the students.
The room died. Mouths hung open. You could've heard Mineta's last brain cell shuffling away into exile.
No one said a word. They remembered yesterday. The training field. The lap-running. The detentions by boot. The explosion that didn't move him. That look in his eyes when Bakugo stepped out of line.
They were traumatised.
Kratos simply walked up and stopped beside All Might like a marble statue that could snap a skyscraper in half.
All Might, still smiling but now visibly sweating just a bit, clapped a broad hand on Kratos' shoulder.
"Haha! And you all already know Kratos! He'll be joining us today as our Combat Instructor!"
Silence.
After a full 5 seconds of silence, All Might's grin twitched.
Beads of sweat formed faster than his smile could keep up.
Hanging on the front side of Kratos' thighs, Mimir broke this silence, "Well... I'll just go ahead and assume ye lot are struck speechless from sheer joy seein' us again, eh? What d'ye think, Kratos? Too much awe, or not enough breakfast?"
From the corner of his eye, All Might swore he saw one of Kratos' shoulders tense. Just slightly. Just enough.
"Uhhh, let's give a BIG Class 1-A welcome, shall we? Come on now, don't be shy!"
The students all jumped, panic overtaking paralysis.
"H-Hello, Kratos-sensei!" they blurted in unison, some smiling too wide, others with the emotional tone of a hostage video.
Kratos looked at them. Slowly. No words. His eyes passed over each of them like a blade being measured. Then, barely, a nod.
All Might exhaled like he'd just dodged an incoming meteor. He let out a nervous chuckle and quickly turned back to the class.
"Right! Let's begin today's lesson, before I'm the one being assessed, eh?"
"So welcome, young heroes, to the most important class at U.A. High!" he boomed, his voice resonating with an undercurrent of pure power. "Hero Basic Training! This is where you will learn what it means to stand for justice! To fight for those who cannot fight for themselves! We will be drilling you in every conceivable scenario, from disaster relief to villain takedowns!"
He struck a dramatic pose, one fist on his hip, the other pointing to the ceiling. "And to do that, you need to look the part! After all, you can't be a hero without a good costume!"
As he spoke, he pulled a small remote from his belt. With a casual press of a button, a low hiss filled the room. The wall to their left rumbled, and sleek, metallic panels began to slide away, revealing a row of hidden compartments. From these compartments, numbered briefcases smoothly emerged, each one gleaming under the fluorescent lights.
[COSTUMES!] was written in bold, stylized English across the top of the recessed wall.
A collective gasp went through the class, followed by a surge of pure, unadulterated joy.
"Our costumes!"
"They're here!"
Students scrambled from their seats, their earlier aches forgotten, their faces lit up with the kind of excitement only a child on Christmas morning could match. They rushed to find the briefcase corresponding to their seat number. Kirishima let out a manly whoop, holding his case aloft like a trophy. Aoyama struck a pose, already imagining how his own would sparkle.
Even Bakugo, who had remained defiantly slouched in his chair, couldn't suppress a sharp, predatory grin as he grabbed his case. This was a tool. A piece of gear that would help him crush everyone in his path.
Izuku found his own briefcase, No. 18. His hands trembled as he touched the cool metal. Inside was the costume his mother had so lovingly, if tearfully, sewn for him. A costume based on his own childish drawing, a tribute to his idol who was standing right there in the room. The weight of it felt immense.
"Get suited up, and meet me at Ground Beta!" All Might commanded, his smile never faltering. "Don't keep me waiting, future heroes!"
With that, he was gone in a blur along with Kratos, leaving behind a classroom of ecstatic students clutching the first true symbols of their new lives.
--------
The boys' changing room was a chaotic mix of nervous energy and boisterous bragging.
"Man, this material is amazing! Super stretchy!" Kaminari said, admiring the black jacket of his costume.
"A true hero's armor must be both functional and dignified!" Iida announced, already encased in his full set of silver, knight-like armor, complete with engine pipes sticking out of his calves. He moved with a stiff, robotic precision that was both impressive and slightly comical.
Izuku found a corner for himself, his heart hammering against his ribs. He carefully unfolded the green jumpsuit. It looked exactly like his sketch. The full-face mask with the long, ear-like protrusions. The respirator-like mouthguard that mimicked All Might's eternal smile. He pulled it on, the fabric hugging him snugly. It felt... right. It felt like his.
He took a deep breath, the filtered air hissing softly through the mask. This was real.
One by one, the students began to emerge from the changing rooms, walking down a long, dark tunnel that led outside. The light at the end grew brighter and brighter, and as they stepped into the sun, they were greeted by the sight of All Might and Kratos, standing proudly before a sprawling cityscape.
"They say the clothes make the man... or in this case, the hero!" All Might roared with approval as Class 1-A assembled before him. "And you all look the part! You look like a troop of bona fide heroes!"
His gaze swept over them. There was Todoroki, half of his costume covered in what looked like ice. There was Tokoyami, cloaked in black, with Dark Shadow writhing beneath. And there was Bakugo, looking every bit the part of a human explosion, with giant, grenade-shaped gauntlets on his arms and a savage look in his eyes.
Izuku was one of the last to emerge, feeling a bit self-conscious as he walked into the light. He tugged at his mask, feeling like a kid playing dress-up.
"Whoa, Deku!"
He turned to see Uraraka standing nearby. Her costume was a sleek, pink-and-black bodysuit with thick, bubble-like boots and wrist guards. She gave him a thumbs-up. "That's so cool! Really down-to-earth and practical! I like it!" she said cheerfully, though she patted her own slightly puffy helmet. "I probably should have been more specific in my design request... this is a little tight."
Izuku's face flushed beneath his mask. "Uraraka, you look great!" he stammered out, feeling a small spark of confidence.
All Might let them admire each other for a moment longer before clapping his hands together, the sound echoing like a thunderclap. "Now then, shall we begin, you zygotes?"