"Hold still," Grandpa grumbles, his weathered hands fumbling with my tie. "This damn thing is more complicated than taking down a B-rank villain."
I bite back a smile. My grandpa—the legendary Gran Torino—defeated by formal neckwear. There's something both hilarious and touching about it.
"I can do it myself," I offer, but he waves me off.
"I've got it," he insists, tongue poking out slightly in concentration. "Your father wore a tie like this to his high school graduation. I helped him then too."
The mention of my father catches me off guard. Grandpa rarely talks about his son—my dad—who died alongside my mom when I was too young to remember them clearly. The fact that he's bringing it up now tells me how significant today is to him.
Middle school graduation. Few months ago, I thought this day would be just another reminder of what I didn't have, a quirk, a future in heroics, a path forward that wasn't shadowed by disappointment. Now everything's different.
"There," Grandpa says, stepping back to examine his handiwork. The tie is slightly crooked, but I wouldn't dream of adjusting it. "Not bad for an old man."
"It's perfect," I tell him, turning to check myself in the mirror.
The boy who stares back is almost a stranger. Blue-gray hair neatly combed, school uniform pressed and proper, a confidence in his posture that wasn't there before. The only familiar thing is the slight crackle of electricity that dances between my fingers when I flex them, a nervous habit I still haven't managed to control completely.
"You look good, kid," Grandpa says, resting a hand briefly on my shoulder. There's something in his eyes I'm not used to seeing. Pride, maybe? Or worry? Probably both.
"Thanks," I reply, suddenly feeling awkward with all this sincerity. "We should get going. Nejire texted that she's already at the school."
Grandpa nods, grabbing his cane, more for appearance than necessity, since the old man can still move like lightning when he wants to. As he heads for the door, he pauses, turning back with uncharacteristic hesitation.
"Your parents would be proud," he says simply. Then, before I can respond, he's out the door, leaving me staring after him.
Parents I barely remember, proud of a son with powers. Life is weird that way. they never knew he'd have
I take one last look in the mirror, straighten my already-straight tie, and follow my grandfather.
—
The graduation ceremony is being held in the school gymnasium, decorated with banners and flowers in a valiant but ultimately futile attempt to make the space look less like what it is—a glorified sweat box with folding chairs. Parents and relatives fill the rows, armed with cameras and tissues, ready to document every second of this milestone.
"Shinra!"
I turn to see Nejire waving enthusiastically from across the room, her blue hair bouncing as she practically skips toward us. She's flanked by a man and woman who must be her parents, they have her same vibrant energy, evident even in the way they navigate through the crowd.
"You made it!" she says, beaming. "Hi, Mr. Torino! Don't you both look handsome?"
Grandpa makes a gruff noise that might be embarrassment or disagreement, but there's a softness around his eyes that betrays him.
"These are my parents," Nejire continues, gesturing to the couple beside her. "Mom, Dad, this is Shinra and his grandfather, the former Pro Hero Gran Torino!"
Nejire's mother, a woman with the same blue hair but a more reserved demeanor, smiles warmly. "It's wonderful to finally meet you both. Nejire talks about you constantly."
"All good things, I hope," Grandpa says with unexpected charm.
"Mostly about how you kick Shinra across rooftops during training," Nejire's father chimes in with a laugh. He's tall with dark hair, and I can see where Nejire gets her animated expressions. "Sounds like effective teaching to me!"
Before this potentially dangerous conversation can continue, our homeroom teacher calls for all graduates to take their places. I give Grandpa a quick nod, which he returns with a subtle thumbs-up, before Nejire and I join our classmates.
As we line up alphabetically, I can't help but notice how differently people are treating me compared to just a few months ago. Takeshi and his friends, who once went out of their way to torment me, now give me a wide berth. Other classmates who barely acknowledged my existence before now smile and nod as if we've been friends all along.
It's not hard to figure out why. News of my performance at the UA entrance exam spread through the school like wildfire. The formerly quirkless kid who took down the zero-pointer is suddenly worth knowing.
"They're all so obvious," Nejire whispers, noticing my observation. "You should have seen how many people suddenly wanted to be study partners after results day."
I snort. "Like you're one to talk. You've had a fan club since first year."
She rolls her eyes, but there's a pleased flush on her cheeks. "That's different. They like my personality."
"And your quirk, and your face, and—"
"Shhh, it's starting!" she interrupts, nudging me with her elbow as our principal approaches the podium.
The ceremony proceeds as expected, speeches about futures and potential, about the journeys we're all beginning. I find my attention drifting, thinking instead about the journey I've already started. The strange fruit in my dream. The lightning powers that shouldn't exist. The knowledge of a future I'm now part of.
When they call my name to receive my diploma, there's a smattering of applause punctuated by Nejire's enthusiastic cheering and what sounds suspiciously like a sharp whistle from my grandfather. I shake hands with the principal, accept the rolled paper, and return to my seat feeling strangely disconnected from it all.
This isn't really the end of anything for me. It's just one more step toward whatever's waiting at UA.
—
After the ceremony, we're released into the courtyard for photos and mingling. Nejire is immediately surrounded by well-wishers, her magnetic personality drawing people in as always. I hang back, uncomfortable with the sudden attention from classmates who never gave me the time of day before.
"Torino."
I turn to find my homeroom teacher, Ms. Kayama, regarding me with an expression I can't quite read.
"Congratulations," she says, extending her hand.
"Thank you," I reply, shaking it automatically.
"I've been teaching for fifteen years," she continues, her voice uncharacteristically serious. "In that time, I've seen hundreds of students come and go. Some surprise me. Most don't."
I stay silent, unsure where this is going.
"You surprised me, Torino. Not just with your quirk manifesting so late—though that was certainly unexpected—but with how quickly you adapted to it." She studies me with sharp eyes. "It's almost as if you knew exactly what to do with your power from the moment you got it."
There's a question in her observation, one I'm not prepared to answer.
"I had good help," I say instead, nodding toward where Grandpa is surprisingly engaged in conversation with Nejire's parents. "And I studied a lot of hero techniques, even when I thought I'd never use them myself."
Ms. Kayama smiles, her expression softening. "Well, that dedication has certainly paid off." She places a hand on my shoulder. "I've sent several students to UA over the years. It's a different world there—challenging in ways you can't fully prepare for."
She glances around to make sure no other students are listening, then lowers her voice slightly. "A bit of advice from someone who's seen it all: UA will push you to your limits. That's how they create top heroes. Just make sure you know the difference between pushing past your limits and breaking yourself. Not every challenge needs to be overcome through sheer force of will."
It's standard teacher advice, the kind she probably gives to all her students heading to prestigious schools, but there's genuine concern in her eyes.
"I'll remember that," I tell her, appreciating the sentiment if not the worry.
"Good," she says with a nod. "I expect to see great things from you, Torino. Make us proud."
With that, she moves on to the next student, leaving me to contemplate her words. Just standard graduation wisdom from a teacher who's seen too many students burn out trying to prove themselves. Nothing more.
My contemplation is interrupted by a voice I was hoping not to hear today.
"Torino."
I turn to find Takeshi standing there, looking uncomfortable. The last time we really interacted was the day I accidentally revealed my quirk, sending him flying across the schoolyard with a blast of electricity.
"What do you want?" I ask, wary but not hostile.
He glances around, making sure no one is within earshot. "Just wanted to say... good luck at UA, I guess."
I blink, caught off guard. "Thanks?"
Then he walks away, leaving me staring after him. The world really has turned upside down.
—-
"So then he bounced off three walls, took down the villain with a single kick, and still managed to save the cat without spilling his taiyaki!"
We're at a restaurant near school, celebrating with a meal that's far fancier than anything Grandpa and I usually eat. Nejire's parents insisted on treating us, and to my surprise, Grandpa accepted without much resistance.
"You make it sound more impressive than it was," Grandpa grumbles, but there's a hint of a smile behind his stern expression. "Just doing the job."
"Such modesty from a pro!" Nejire's mother says. "Is that something you try to instill in Shinra as well?"
"Humility is survival in hero work," Grandpa replies, suddenly serious. "The moment you start believing your own legend is the moment you make a fatal mistake."
A heavy silence falls over the table.
"Well, that got dark," Nejire whispers to me, and I have to stifle a laugh.
"Speaking of hero work," her father says, clearly trying to lighten the mood, "we're both so proud of Nejire and Shinra getting into UA, but I'd be lying if I said we weren't concerned. The news lately... villains seem to be getting bolder. More organized."
I tense slightly, wondering if he's referring to what I think he is.
"It's natural to be concerned," Grandpa acknowledges. "Hero work has always been dangerous. But UA is the safest place they could be. The teachers there are top-tier pros."
"Still," Nejire's mother interjects, "you hear stories. Students injured during training. The pressure to excel leading to burnout. And now with All Might making fewer appearances..."
I glance at Grandpa, curious how he'll respond to the mention of All Might. His expression remains carefully neutral.
"UA pushes its students hard because the world they're entering is hard," he says simply. "Better they learn their limits in a controlled environment than discover them when lives are on the line."
Nejire kicks me under the table, and when I look at her, she rolls her eyes dramatically at the adults' serious conversation. I suppress a smile. She's right, we know more about what's coming than any of them do.
"May I be excused for a minute?" Nejire asks suddenly. "I need to use the restroom."
"Of course, honey," her mother replies.
As Nejire stands, she gives me a meaningful look. Follow me, her eyes say clearly.
"Uh, I should probably wash my hands too," I add lamely, rising from my seat.
If the adults suspect anything, they don't show it, continuing their conversation as Nejire and I slip away. Instead of heading to the restrooms, however, she leads me toward the restaurant's small outdoor patio, currently empty due to the cool evening air.
"I thought we'd never escape," she says with a dramatic sigh. "One more story about the good old days and I was going to start screaming."
"Your parents are nice," I tell her, leaning against the patio railing. "And they seem to genuinely like Grandpa."
"They like you too," she replies. "Dad told me earlier he thinks you have 'good character.' Whatever that means."
A comfortable silence falls between us as we look out at the city lights beginning to twinkle in the early evening. It's strange to think that in just a few weeks, we'll be at UA, starting the journey that will shape us into heroes.
"Are you scared?" Nejire asks suddenly, her voice softer than usual.
I consider lying, then decide against it. "Yeah. A little. You?"
She nods. "I keep having this dream where I show up for the first day and everyone else can do these amazing things with their quirks, and I'm just... mediocre."
I stare at her in disbelief. "You? Mediocre? Have you seen what you can do with your quirk? You got into UA on recommendation!"
"So did lots of others," she points out. "Anyway, it's just a stupid anxiety dream. I know I'm awesome." She flips her hair dramatically, making me laugh.
"What about you?" she asks. "What are you afraid of?"
Everything, I think. That someone will figure out my quirk isn't really a quirk. That I'll change the timeline and make things worse. That I won't be able to protect you when the villains come.
"That I won't live up to expectations," I say instead. "Grandpa's. The teachers'. My own."
Nejire studies me for a moment, then reaches out and takes my hand. Her touch sends a jolt through me that has nothing to do with my ability.
"We'll be fine," she says with such certainty that I almost believe her. "We've got each other's backs, right? No matter what happens at UA, we face it together."
"Together," I agree, squeezing her hand.
For a moment, there's something in her eyes, something warm and questioning and maybe a little scared. She leans forward slightly, and my heart begins to race. Is she going to...?
"Nejire! Shinra! Dessert is here!"
Nejire's father's voice shatters the moment. We jump apart, both suddenly finding the view extremely interesting.
"Coming!" Nejire calls back, her cheeks flushed. She glances at me, a small smile playing on her lips. "Race you back?"
Before I can answer, she's already darting inside, leaving me to follow, my hand still tingling where she held it.
—
The night before UA begins, I sit cross-legged on my bed, my new school uniform hanging on the closet door. Tomorrow, I step into the world I've only read about, the world of UA, of Class 1-A, of heroes in training.
On my lap is my journal, the one where I've been recording everything I remember from the manga and anime. Timeline details. Character quirks. Villain plots. It's all here, a roadmap to a future that's both known and unknown.
I flip through the pages, past sketches of the USJ, notes about the Sports Festival, details about the training camp attack. Events that are still two years away—events that may not even happen the same way now that I'm here.
From the next room, I hear Grandpa moving around, probably doing his own preparations for tomorrow. He's been unusually attentive this past week, making sure I have everything I need for UA, offering bits of advice about teachers and classes.
A knock at my door pulls me from my thoughts.
"Come in," I call, quickly closing the journal and sliding it under my pillow.
Grandpa enters, carrying something wrapped in cloth. "Got a minute?"
"Sure," I say, making room for him on the bed.
He sits, wincing slightly at the creaking of his old joints. "I have something for you. For tomorrow."
He hands me the cloth-wrapped bundle. It's heavier than it looks.
Carefully, I unwrap it to reveal a pair of metal gauntlets, sleek, modern-looking, with blue accents that match my hair.
"Support items?" I ask, examining them with interest.
"More like training aids," Grandpa explains. "They're designed to help with quirk control. The metal alloy can withstand high voltages and help direct your electricity more precisely. I had them custom made by an old contact in the support industry."
I slip one onto my right hand. It fits perfectly, covering my forearm and hand while leaving my fingers free to move. When I channel a small amount of electricity into it, blue light traces the intricate circuits etched into the metal.
"These are amazing," I breathe, genuinely impressed. "But... won't they be against UA rules? First-years aren't supposed to have support items without special permission."
"Already taken care of," Grandpa says with a satisfied smirk. "I spoke with Principal Nezu. Given the... unusual nature of your quirk manifestation, he agreed that assistance with control would be beneficial for both your safety and that of your classmates."
I stare at him, surprised by his foresight. "You thought of everything."
"I try," he says simply. Then, more seriously: "UA will push you, Shinra. It'll demand more from you than you think you have to give. These will help, but in the end, it's your determination that will see you through."
I nod, understanding the weight of his words.
"Also," he adds, his tone lightening slightly, "try not to show off too much on your first day. Aizawa has a habit of expelling students who annoy him."
"Great," I mutter. "No pressure."
Grandpa stands, ruffling my hair like he did when I was small. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow's a big day."
After he leaves, I spend some time practicing with the gauntlets, marveling at how they make controlling my electricity easier, more intuitive. I can create finer, more precise currents, direct them exactly where I want them to go.
Finally, exhaustion catches up with me. I place the gauntlets carefully on my nightstand, next to my alarm clock and the framed photo of my parents that Grandpa gave me years ago.
As I drift toward sleep, my thoughts swirl with anticipation and uncertainty. Tomorrow, I enter UA. Tomorrow, I begin training to be a hero.