The cramped apartment smelled of dust and old cardboard. Sunlight filtered through grimy windows, casting long shadows across the bare wooden floor where several moving boxes sat scattered like forgotten memories. Ryu Sato wiped the sweat from his brow as he carried the last box inside, his black hair sticking to his forehead despite the cool Tokyo morning.
"Finally," he muttered under his breath, setting the box down with the others. The sound echoed in the nearly empty space, emphasizing just how small their new home really was. Two rooms, a tiny kitchenette, and a bathroom barely large enough to turn around in. But it was theirs now, and more importantly, it was far away from their old life.
Ryu glanced toward the bedroom doorway where his mother sat motionless on the edge of a bare mattress. Her thin frame was hunched forward, hands folded neatly in her lap, dark eyes staring at absolutely nothing. She hadn't moved since he'd helped her sit down an hour ago, hadn't acknowledged their arrival in Tokyo, hadn't even blinked when he'd asked if she wanted some water.
"Mom," Ryu called softly, his voice carrying a gentleness that contrasted sharply with his usually sharp tongue. "We're finally out of that place. No more whispers behind our backs, no more pitying looks from the neighbors. Maybe things can be different here."
His mother's gaze didn't shift. Her breathing was so shallow that for a moment, Ryu wondered if she was even alive. But then her chest rose slightly, fell, rose again. The same mechanical rhythm that had become her existence for the past seven years.
Ryu ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Tomorrow's my entrance exam for U.A. High School. Can you believe it? Me, trying to get into the most prestigious hero school in Japan." He let out a bitter laugh. "I know what you're thinking – how can someone without a Quirk even dream of becoming a hero? But that's exactly why I have to do this, Mom. Someone needs to look out for the forgotten places, the small towns where heroes never bother to show up because there's no glory in it."
Still no response. Ryu's jaw tightened slightly, a flicker of frustration crossing his blue eyes before he forced himself to relax. Getting angry wouldn't help anyone, least of all his mother.
"I'm going to make some dinner," he announced, moving toward the small kitchenette. "What would you like to eat tonight?"
The silence stretched on for nearly a full minute. Ryu had already started opening cabinets, taking inventory of their meager food supplies, when he heard it.
"Rice."
The word was barely a whisper, so soft that Ryu almost convinced himself he'd imagined it. But no – there it was again, like a ghost of a voice.
"Rice."
Ryu closed his eyes, his hands gripping the edge of the counter. Seven years. Seven years since the incident that had stolen his mother's voice, her spirit, her very essence. Seven years of watching the woman who had once filled their home with laughter and warmth waste away into this hollow shell. And in all that time, the only word she ever spoke was 'rice.' The only food she would eat, the only request she would make, the only sign that somewhere inside that broken mind, some small part of her still functioned.
"Rice it is, Mom," Ryu said, his voice steady despite the tightness in his chest. "I'll make us a nice bowl of rice."
As he prepared their simple meal, Ryu's thoughts drifted to tomorrow's exam. The practical test would be the real challenge – after all, what could a Quirkless teenager possibly accomplish against robots designed to test superhuman abilities? But Ryu had never been one to back down from impossible odds. If anything, they only made him more determined.
He'd studied every piece of information he could find about U.A.'s entrance exam, analyzed videos of past tests, memorized the layout of the school grounds. Knowledge was power, and power was something Ryu refused to let others monopolize just because they were born with flashy abilities.
The rice cooker chimed softly, pulling him from his thoughts. He served two portions – a reasonable amount for himself and a smaller portion for his mother, knowing she would barely touch even that. Carrying the bowls to the bedroom, he sat cross-legged on the floor beside her mattress.
"Here you go, Mom," he said, placing the bowl in her hands. She accepted it without acknowledgment, mechanically lifting the spoon to her lips with movements that spoke of muscle memory rather than conscious thought.
They ate in silence, the only sounds being the distant hum of Tokyo traffic and the soft clink of chopsticks against ceramic. Ryu found himself studying his mother's face, searching for any flicker of the woman she used to be. The woman who had taught him to read, who had bandaged his scraped knees, who had held him close during thunderstorms and whispered that everything would be okay.
"I'm going to become a hero, Mom," he said quietly. "Not for the fame or the money or the adoration of crowds. I'm going to do it for people like us – the ones that society forgets about. The ones living in small apartments and eating rice every night because it's all they can afford. The ones whose voices have been stolen by a world that values power over compassion."
His mother continued eating, giving no sign that she'd heard him. But Ryu hadn't expected her to. These one-sided conversations had become a ritual, a way for him to organize his thoughts as much as an attempt to reach whatever remained of her consciousness.
"I know you think I'm being naive," he continued, his voice taking on a sharper edge. "And maybe I am. Maybe this whole thing is just a foolish dream of a powerless kid who refuses to accept his place in the world. But I'd rather fail trying than succeed at giving up."
When they finished eating, Ryu collected the dishes and began washing them in the tiny sink. The warm water felt good on his hands, grounding him in the present moment. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new obstacles to overcome. But tonight, in this small apartment that smelled of cardboard and possibility, he allowed himself to hope.
"Get some rest, Mom," he called softly as he dried the last bowl. "Tomorrow's going to be a big day."
He heard the soft rustle of sheets as she lay down, and within minutes, her breathing had settled into the deep, even rhythm of sleep. Ryu remained in the kitchen for a while longer, staring out the small window at the glittering lights of Tokyo. Somewhere out there, in gleaming towers and prestigious academies, the next generation of heroes was preparing for their bright futures. They had powerful Quirks, wealthy families, every advantage society could offer.
But they didn't have what Ryu had – the burning determination that came from having nothing left to lose, and everything to prove.
The next morning arrived with the harsh buzz of Ryu's alarm clock at 5:30 AM. He rolled out of his makeshift bed on the living room floor, muscles protesting from sleeping on the hard surface. Through the thin walls, he could hear his neighbors beginning their daily routines – running water, muffled conversations, the distant sound of a television news report.
Ryu stretched, working out the kinks in his back and shoulders, then padded quietly to the bathroom. His reflection in the cracked mirror showed the same face that had stared back at him for sixteen years – angular features that hadn't quite grown into themselves yet, dark hair that never seemed to cooperate no matter how much he tried to tame it, and those bright blue eyes that his mother used to say could see right through people's pretenses.
"Today's the day," he murmured to his reflection, splashing cold water on his face. "Time to see if all that preparation was worth anything."
He dressed carefully in his best clothes – a simple black button-down shirt and dark pants that he'd bought secondhand but that looked presentable enough for the occasion. As he adjusted his collar, he caught sight of the small device clipped to his belt, hidden beneath his shirt. A custom-built scanner that could interface with most electronic security systems. He'd spent months working on it, piece by piece, using parts salvaged from old electronics and knowledge gained from countless hours studying online tutorials.
"No gadgets, no weapons," he reminded himself, thinking of U.A.'s strict entrance exam rules. "Just my wits and whatever I can improvise."
He removed the device and tucked it safely into one of the moving boxes. If his plan worked, he'd need it later, but not during the official exam. Getting caught with unauthorized equipment would end his chances before they even began.
Moving to the bedroom doorway, Ryu peered in at his mother. She was already awake, sitting on the edge of the mattress in the exact same position as the night before. Her dark hair hung in limp strands around her face, and she was staring at the wall with that same empty expression.
"Morning, Mom," Ryu said softly. "I'm heading out for my exam now. I'll be back this evening, and hopefully I'll have good news to share."
No response, as expected. Ryu had learned years ago not to take her silence personally, but it still stung sometimes. Especially on days like this, when he could have used even the smallest word of encouragement.
"I left some rice in the cooker," he added. "Make sure you eat something while I'm gone, okay?"
He grabbed his wallet and phone, both embarrassingly light, and headed for the door. The morning air was crisp and clean, a welcome change from the stale atmosphere of their small apartment. Tokyo stretched out before him like a concrete jungle of infinite possibilities, and for a moment, Ryu felt his spirits lift despite everything.
The walk to the train station took fifteen minutes through narrow streets lined with tiny shops and apartment buildings much like his own. This wasn't the gleaming, futuristic Tokyo that appeared in tourist brochures – this was the working-class heart of the city, where people got by on determination and dreams rather than inherited wealth or genetic lottery winnings.
Ryu pulled out his phone and inserted his earbuds, scrolling through his music library until he found something with a steady, driving beat. The music helped him focus, drowning out the doubts that tried to creep into his thoughts as he walked. He'd done everything he could to prepare for this moment. Now it was just a matter of execution.
The train station was already bustling with morning commuters, a sea of dark suits and serious faces heading off to their daily routines. Ryu bought his ticket with some of their precious remaining cash and found a spot on the platform to wait. The digital display showed his train would arrive in three minutes.
As he stood there, watching the organized chaos of rush hour Tokyo, Ryu couldn't help but think about how different his life might have been if things had gone differently seven years ago. If his mother hadn't suffered her breakdown. If they hadn't been forced to leave their hometown in shame and poverty. If he had been born with a Quirk like 80% of the population.
But dwelling on what-ifs was a luxury he couldn't afford. The train arrived with a rush of air and the screech of brakes, and Ryu climbed aboard along with dozens of other passengers.
He found a seat by the window and settled in for the journey across the city. The urban landscape rolled past outside – apartment buildings giving way to commercial districts, then to the more affluent areas where the buildings grew taller and more impressive. This was the path his life was taking too, he reflected. From the margins of society toward its center, from powerlessness toward the ability to make a real difference.
The train car was packed with people of all ages, most absorbed in their phones or newspapers, lost in their own private worlds. Ryu studied their faces, wondering about their stories. How many of them had Quirks? How many were living the lives they'd dreamed of as children? How many had compromised those dreams in favor of stability and safety?
His philosophical musings were interrupted by a commotion near the front of the car. A large man had entered, and there was something immediately unsettling about his presence. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with crude tattoos covering his arms and a wild look in his eyes that made other passengers instinctively step back.
"Alright, everybody listen up!" the man shouted, his voice carrying easily over the rumble of the train. "This is a robbery! I want phones, wallets, jewelry – anything valuable you've got!"
Panic rippled through the car as passengers realized what was happening. Some immediately began reaching for their belongings, others shrank back in their seats, hoping to avoid notice. Ryu remained perfectly still, his expression calm and unreadable as he assessed the situation.
The robber's Quirk became apparent as small flames began licking around the edges of his mouth. Not particularly powerful, Ryu noted, but intimidating enough to keep ordinary civilians compliant. The man moved systematically through the car, collecting valuables with casual threats and displays of his fire-breathing ability.
"You!" the robber barked, pointing directly at a well-dressed businessman. "Empty your pockets! And don't even think about playing hero – I'll roast you alive!"
The businessman quickly complied, hands shaking as he handed over his wallet and expensive watch. The robber grinned, clearly enjoying the power his Quirk gave him over these defenseless people.
Ryu watched the scene unfold with a mixture of disgust and calculating interest. This was exactly the kind of thing he was talking about – heroes were nowhere to be seen, leaving ordinary people vulnerable to criminals who saw their Quirks as licenses to take whatever they wanted. Where was the glory in protecting a train full of commuters? Where were the news cameras and cheering crowds?
The robber was getting closer now, having worked his way through nearly half the car. Ryu could see the fear in people's eyes, the way they hunched their shoulders and avoided eye contact, hoping to become invisible. It was a humiliating spectacle, and it made his blood boil.
"Hey, kid!" The robber had reached Ryu's row, looming over him with that predatory grin. "You deaf or something? I said empty your pockets!"
Ryu looked up slowly, his blue eyes meeting the criminal's gaze with steady calm. He made no move to comply, simply continued listening to his music as if nothing had happened.
The robber's grin faltered, replaced by anger at this unexpected defiance. "I said give me your stuff!" he roared, leaning closer. "Maybe you need to see what happens to punks who don't listen!"
The man took a deep breath, his cheeks puffing out as he prepared to exhale a gout of flame directly at Ryu's face. Other passengers gasped and scrambled to get away from the imminent violence.
But Ryu was already moving.
In one fluid motion, he stood and clamped his hand firmly over the robber's mouth, sealing his lips just as the man tried to release his fire breath. The flames had nowhere to go but back down the robber's throat, and he bit down hard on his own tongue in shock and pain.
Before the man could react further, Ryu's other hand shot out in a precise strike to his liver – not a wild haymaker, but a surgical blow delivered with perfect timing and positioning. The robber's eyes went wide as intense pain exploded through his midsection, and he doubled over, retching and gasping for breath.
The entire exchange had taken less than three seconds.
As the robber collapsed to his knees, clutching his side and trying not to vomit from the pain, Ryu calmly sat back down and adjusted his earbuds. Around him, the other passengers stared in shock and amazement. A few began to applaud, but Ryu ignored them, focusing instead on the view outside the window.
The train was already slowing as it approached the next station, and Ryu could see the flashing lights of hero vehicles waiting on the platform. Someone must have activated an emergency alert, bringing the cavalry to clean up the mess. As always, the heroes arrived just in time to take credit for someone else's work.
"That was incredible!" exclaimed an elderly woman sitting across the aisle. "How did you do that without a Quirk?"
"Thank you so much!" added a young mother holding her child. "You saved all of us!"
But Ryu was already standing, gathering his things as the train pulled to a stop. He had no interest in sticking around to answer questions or accept praise. By the time the doors opened and the professional heroes boarded, he had already melted into the crowd of departing passengers.
"Excuse me!" called a female hero with a rescue-themed costume. "We're looking for the person who stopped the robbery! A witness said it was a young man with dark hair!"
But Ryu was already gone, disappearing into the busy terminal like smoke. He had more important things to do than waste time explaining himself to heroes who couldn't be bothered to prevent crimes, only to show up afterward for the photo opportunities.
Twenty minutes later, Ryu emerged from a different train at the station nearest to U.A. High School. The massive academy complex rose before him, its gleaming towers reflecting the morning sun. Students were already gathering at the main entrance, their excited chatter filling the air as they prepared for their entrance exams.
Ryu studied the crowd with analytical eyes. Designer uniforms, expensive athletic wear, confident postures – these were the privileged ones, he noted. The chosen children who had never known real struggle.
Rather than joining the main throng of applicants, Ryu deliberately veered away from the crowd, following a path that led around the side of the building. He pulled out his phone, activating a scanning app as he walked. The screen flickered with data as it analyzed electronic signatures from the building's security systems. Impressive, but not impenetrable.
"Hey there!"
The cheerful voice made Ryu look up from his phone. A girl about his own age stood before him, with striking orange hair pulled back in a ponytail and bright green eyes that sparkled with friendly curiosity. Her posture was confident and athletic.
"The exam entrance isn't this way," she continued with a smile. "Don't tell me you're lost already!"
Ryu quickly pocketed his phone, his expression shifting to casual innocence. "Actually," he said with a slight smile, "I was just looking for the best way to break into the school."
The girl laughed genuinely. "That's impossible! U.A.'s security is legendary. Nobody just breaks into this place."
"You caught me," Ryu replied smoothly. "I guess I'm just lost after all. Wouldn't want to admit that to a complete stranger, though."
"I knew it!" she said triumphantly. "You looked confident, but something about your walking screamed lost. Don't worry, it happens to everyone."
She extended her hand. "I'm Itsuka Kendo, by the way. Third-year middle school, hoping to make it into U.A.'s hero course."
Ryu clasped her hand briefly, noting the firm grip and callused palms. "Sato Ryu. Same situation as you – trying to get into the hero course."
"You've got that calculating look about you," Itsuka observed, studying his face. "I bet you're more prepared than you're letting on."
"Maybe," he admitted vaguely. "But preparation only goes so far when you're competing against people with superhuman abilities."
"Ah, the 'my Quirk isn't flashy enough' type," Itsuka nodded knowingly. "Trust me, raw power isn't everything in hero work. Some of the best heroes have simple abilities used creatively."
Ryu felt amused at her assumption but didn't correct it. "What about you? What's your Quirk like?"
Itsuka grinned and held up her hands. As Ryu watched, they began to grow larger, fingers elongating until they were nearly twice their normal size. "Big Fist," she explained proudly. "I can enlarge my hands for powerful strikes or grabbing things out of reach."
"Impressive," Ryu said, genuinely meaning it.
"Want me to show you the way to the exam area?" she offered, checking her phone. "We should get going – they'll be starting the written portion soon."
Ryu nodded, falling into step beside her as they walked back toward the main campus. "That would be great, thank you."
"So what made you want to become a hero?" she asked as they approached the main building.
Ryu considered his answer carefully. "I want to help people that everyone else forgets about," he said simply. "The ones in small towns that never make the news."
Itsuka looked at him with surprise and respect. "That's really thoughtful. Most people our age just dream about fame and fortune."
"What about you?"
"I want to be the kind of hero that makes people feel safe," she replied without hesitation. "Someone they can trust and rely on."
They had reached the main entrance where hundreds of applicants were gathering. The energy was palpable – excitement, anxiety, and fierce determination crackling in the air.
"Well, Sato," Itsuka said, turning to face him with a warm smile. "This is where we part ways for now. Maybe we'll see each other during the practical portion."
"It's been a pleasure, Kendo," Ryu replied with a slight bow. "Thanks for the guidance."
She laughed, but there was something knowing in her eyes that suggested she didn't entirely believe his lost act. "Good luck in there, Sato. Show them what you're made of."
As she disappeared into the crowd, Ryu found himself staring after her thoughtfully. In a world full of people who might dismiss him, Itsuka Kendo had treated him as an equal from the moment they met.
Shaking off these thoughts, Ryu turned his attention back to the task at hand. The written exam would be starting soon, and every point would matter for someone in his situation.
As he joined the flow of students entering the building, Ryu caught one last glimpse of U.A.'s imposing architecture. Soon, he would either be walking through these doors as a legitimate student, or he would be finding more creative ways to achieve his goals.
Either way, his journey toward becoming a hero was just beginning.