The ceiling fan spun with a dull hum, pushing around the warm afternoon air inside a classroom bathed in soft sunlight. Outside, you could hear the distant shouts of kids doing physical education, but inside… it was just suppressed yawns, scratched-up desks, and students trying not to fall asleep.
I was 14 years old. Sitting in the third row by the window, back straight, notebook open in front of me. From the outside, I probably looked like a model student—focused, taking notes. I even moved my pen from time to time to keep up the act.
But the reality was very different.
Behind the notebook, hidden from view, I had my phone on.
The screen showed yesterday's headline:
"All Might Defeats the Sludge Villain in Musutafu!"The incident, which occurred Monday afternoon, was quickly contained thanks to the Symbol of Peace, who rescued two students and confirmed there were no casualties…
I read the headline again.
"So… it's started."
The first episode's event. The story was already moving. If things followed the normal timeline, then… Izuku Midoriya should already be training with All Might, preparing to inherit One for All. The real beginning was still months away, but the fuse had been lit.
"We're in our third year already. You should be thinking about your future," the teacher's voice snapped me back to reality. She held a stack of colorful brochures—some showed students in uniforms, others had technical school logos. "I have a few high school options here if anyone hasn't decided what direction to take yet…"
Then she smiled, a mix of resignation and knowing amusement.
"Though I'm sure most of you want to be heroes, right?"
Before anyone could answer, she casually tossed the brochures aside like they were scrap paper.
"YEEEES!" a bunch of students shouted in unison.
Like someone flipped a switch, quirks started going off all over the room.
One guy lit up in flames—small ones, but still controlled. Another turned invisible. A girl made her desk float just to show off. Sparks, lights, colors, partial mutations… the classroom turned into a mini hero festival.
And me… I just watched.
No matter how many times I see it, it still stings a little.
While everyone else played at being mini-heroes, the teacher sat down at her desk. She flipped through a folder, skimming a list before frowning slightly.
"Alright, that's enough," she said, her voice calm but firm.
The lights cut out. Quirks fizzled away like someone flipped an actual switch. A few kids chuckled awkwardly. Others just sat back down like it was nothing.
Then she looked up and scanned the room. Her eyes stopped on me.
"Riku-kun, could you stay after class for a bit?"
Like reflex, all the heads turned my way.
Whispers.
"Who's that?""Oh, it's that kid with no Quirk.""Wait, was he in our class?"
Their lips barely moved, but the poison was easy to hear.
The teacher clapped her hands twice.
"Enough. Mind your own business. Let's move on."
I raised an eyebrow. What did she want from me?
Well… I'd find out soon enough.
Class went on, but I wasn't really listening anymore. I just kept up appearances—moved my pen, looked at the board, nodded along. But inside, I was just counting the minutes until it ended.
Finally, the bell rang.
Chairs screeched, backpacks zipped up, and the room filled with chatter as the students rushed out like someone had opened the floodgates.
I stayed put.
I waited in my seat until everyone was gone.
When the classroom was empty—except for the teacher and me—I stood up.
I walked to her desk, keeping my steps steady. She didn't look up from the papers she was sorting until I was right in front of her.
"Thanks for waiting, Riku-kun."
I nodded, waiting for her to continue.
Then she picked up a sheet of paper from the pile on her desk and held it in front of her, though she didn't show it to me.
"I was reviewing the applications you all submitted for high school," she said, voice neutral but with a trace of tension beneath the surface. "And I came across yours."
I didn't respond. I just looked at her. She already knew the answer—there was no point in pretending.
"And it wasn't for the general course," she added. "You applied to the hero course."
Silence.
She gently lowered the paper and crossed her arms.
"I know the entrance exams are still months away… but I thought it would be best to talk to you about it now."
I stayed quiet.
Just looking at her, waiting.
She sighed, lowering the paper completely.
"I'm not here to tell you to give up," she said, slowly, choosing every word carefully. "But I do want you to consider… alternatives. Options. A backup plan. U.A. is extremely competitive—even for students with remarkable abilities."
And you have none. She didn't say it out loud, but it hung in the air, unspoken but heavy.
"Riku, you're a good student. Your grades are solid. I know you work hard, even if others don't see it. But this path you've chosen…" She paused, locking eyes with me. "It's tough. Much tougher than it looks. I just want you to be prepared in case things don't turn out the way you hope."
If you don't get selected.If they reject you without a second thought.
That was in her eyes too, even if her mouth only said:
"Just… think about it, alright?"
I stayed quiet for a few more seconds.
"…Alright," I finally replied.
I didn't promise anything. I just nodded.
"Thank you for your concern," I added, giving her a small, polite bow.
She nodded back, like that was enough to wrap things up.
I left the classroom at a slow pace. The hallway was already empty, the distant noise of other floors echoing faintly. Afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows, casting soft golden light.
By the time I got home, the sun was already starting to set. The hallways were glowing with that orange tint that made everything feel slower.
The front door was unlocked, like always. No one waiting for me.
"I'm home," I said out of habit.
No answer.
I lined up my shoes at the entrance like a proper adopted Japanese kid, dropped my backpack by the hallway shelf with a dull thud, and didn't even bother checking the kitchen. I already knew there'd be food in the microwave, left behind by one of my parents before heading out for work. Maybe they'd say something when they got back. Maybe they wouldn't.
I went upstairs and locked myself in my room.
My room was small, with plain gray walls and basic furniture. But in one corner, where most kids would have a gaming console or a study desk, I had something else.
My sanctuary.
A workbench shoved against the wall, cluttered with cheap tools, stripped wires, metal scraps, and leftover parts from old appliances. Above it, the wall was completely covered with papers: rough sketches, messy blueprints, crossed-out ideas, possible improvements, reminders.
I walked over and cleared some space with practiced hands, carefully moving things aside. Then I grabbed one of the blueprints tacked on the wall and unfolded it on the desk.
There it was.
One of the inventions that might just get me into U.A.
Shocker Gloves.
Yeah, like the Spider-Man villain. Though, obviously, I wouldn't be calling them that officially. Legally speaking, they were "short-range kinetic discharge devices based on adjustable electric capacitor output." But come on—Shocker Gloves sounded way cooler.
They started out as a dumb idea. But they weren't as impossible as they seemed.
It made sense. In My Hero Academia, Kyoka Jiro used support gear that amplified sound and vibrations. Her system worked through her earphone jacks—part of her Quirk—but the basic principle was the same: turn electrical or sound energy into directed physical force.
Which meant it was possible.
I just had to adapt it. Build it from scratch. Make it usable for someone with no powers.
For someone like me.
I grabbed a mechanical pencil and started sketching a possible new connection for the impulse capacitors. If I could keep the voltage stable without overheating the system, maybe I could generate a blast strong enough to knock someone back—or at least stun them without killing them. Honestly, if the first prototype burned off a few eyebrows, I wouldn't be too upset.
I didn't have time to be careful.
The U.A. entrance exam was ten months away. Ten months. And yeah, it was practically impossible for someone like me to get into the hero course—but I had to try.
Not because I had some noble dream about "saving people with a smile." That part was optional.
Being a hero… honestly, it didn't sound too bad. Good salary, fame, government benefits. But the real appeal was the long game: I could always quit later.
Once the big villains were gone… I could vanish. Fake an injury. Retire on purpose. Then live a chill life—invest the money, play video games all day, sleep in, eat whatever I wanted without worrying about the world.
But first, I had to survive.
And to survive, I had to get in.
I set the blueprint aside and pulled out a metal casing I'd been working on the night before. Maybe I could repurpose the microwave's electromagnet as a discharge base if I tuned it right.
I chuckled to myself, imagining the looks on the exam proctors' faces when they saw a Quirkless kid taking down robots with gear made from scrap.
That would be fun to watch.
I connected the wires. Soldered a circuit.
And smiled.
Maybe I didn't have a Quirk.
But I had ten months.
And that… was enough.