Setsuna Tokage — 18.4 seconds
Momo Yaoyorozu — 19.1 seconds
From the observation deck, Present Mic slammed his hands onto the console, his voice exploding through the room.
"She slingshotted herself over an entire pit zone! That's pure genius!"
Aizawa didn't flinch at the outburst, his scarf shifting slightly as he studied the replay.
"Calculated trajectory. Midair correction. Perfect landing," he said calmly. "She used the grappling cable's parabolic arc and jet-assisted thrust to amplify her velocity while controlling re-entry. That's an incredible grasp of physics."
Present Mic blinked at him, then grinned. "Translation: she's scary smart."
Up in the stands, Ayaka smirked softly.
"She plans the entire course before her second breath," she murmured. "She makes it look effortless."
Izumi chuckled quietly beside her, eyes fixed on Momo as she straightened her uniform and exhaled.
"That's what makes her dangerous," he said, his voice carrying a note of quiet respect.
Watching her calm, confident smile on the big screen, he couldn't help the thought that crossed his mind —
'She's grown far beyond her canon counterpart.'
Back at the finish line, the rest of the students finally began to arrive one by one — breathless, wide-eyed, and visibly impressed.
Tokage touched down beside Momo, reassembling midair before landing with a heavy thud. She turned toward Momo, hands on her hips and a feral grin on her face.
"Not bad! Thought I'd lose you back there!"
Momo smiled softly, her breathing steady and composed.
"You were incredible," she replied. "But it was… manageable."
Tokage let out a short laugh.
"You just built half a support course in under twenty seconds. That's not normal."
Momo tilted her head slightly, the faintest glimmer of amusement in her eyes.
"Normal's overrated."
Looking at the two students conversing near the finish line, Present Mic leaned toward his microphone, grinning wide.
"Man, these two were wild! One's a flying puzzle; the other's a walking lab!"
Aizawa's eyes flicked between the replay feeds, his tone even but faintly impressed.
"Yaoyorozu calculated the optimal route before entering each zone. Her speed wasn't from raw power; it came from continuous analysis. She adjusted on the fly, used her creation effectively, and never lost focus."
Present Mic laughed. "So, you're saying she out-thought the course itself?"
"Exactly," Aizawa replied, his gaze drifting to the rest of the field. "And Tokage adapted well under chaos. She compensated for her quirk's instability with quick recovery and sharp reflexes. The others did their best too, solid fundamentals, but not the same level of adaptability."
Below, Momo and Tokage exited the track side by side, both smiling in quiet mutual respect. Behind them, the remaining students followed, a mix of exhaustion and awe visible on their faces as they made their way toward the stands.
Tokage exhaled deeply, hands on her hips, still grinning from ear to ear.
"You know, Yaoyorozu, if we ever end up in the same agency someday, I'd totally let you handle the planning."
Momo clasped her hands behind her back, her conduit dissolving into soft, fading motes that obserbed into her skin. "I wouldn't mind that," she replied warmly. "As long as you promise not to charge ahead before the plan's finished."
Tokage laughed, stretching her shoulders as she walked off toward the exit gate.
"Guess we both did our best, huh?"
Momo nodded once — composed, but the faintest warmth glimmered in her eyes.
"We did."
They shared a brief smile before parting ways.
As Momo climbed the steps to the observation stands, Izumi leaned forward on the railing. Her hair was slightly tousled from wind resistance, her uniform marked with faint streaks of soot, but her posture was still flawless — head high, movements calm and deliberate.
Ayaka rose to greet her, smiling.
"You were brilliant," she said softly. "You've been practicing your conduit control, haven't you?"
Momo brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and nodded modestly.
"Yes. Your spatial theory notes helped me refine the Nano Forge stabilization process. I can generate smaller constructs faster now."
Izumi chuckled, tilting his head.
"You say that like you didn't build an EMP mid-flight."
Momo's cheeks coloured faintly, her expression softening.
"That was… a last-minute idea. I realized I could repurpose the emitter's polarity frequency just before I deployed it."
Ayaka folded her arms thoughtfully.
"You didn't rely on your quirk alone," she said. "You used prediction, control, and adaptability. That's what separates a good hero from a great one."
Momo smiled faintly, her voice carrying quiet pride.
"I learned from the best examples."
Ayaka grinned the moment she heard it, rubbing the back of her head with a shameless laugh.
"Well, of course you did," she said, absolutely unapologetic.
Izumi elbowed her lightly, smirking. "She is talking about me idiot."
"Too late, I claimed the compliment" Ayaka shot back with a grin.
The twins began bickering among them as Momo watched the two with a quiet smile.
The next group of examinees began assembling below.
On the field, automated drones reset the course — replacing broken obstacles, clearing debris, and recalibrating the magnetic zones. The air was alive again with tension and anticipation.
Aizawa's voice echoed calmly across the stadium.
"Batch Eight, prepare at the starting line."
Momo leaned against the railing beside Izumi, her eyes tracking the next group.
"It's strange," she murmured. "Watching now feels more nerve-wracking than running."
Izumi smiled faintly, gaze fixed on the course.
"That's because you can't predict what they'll do next."
Ayaka tilted her head toward Momo, her tone light but teasing.
"So… who's your bet this round?"
Momo's eyes flicked toward the next lineup, her expression thoughtful.
"No idea," she said finally, a small smile playing on her lips. "But if they're anything like the last few batches…" — her gaze lingered on the field — "this year's class will be something special."
The waiting area outside the interview hall was quiet — the kind of stillness that felt heavy rather than calm. The only sounds were the faint ticking of a clock and the soft shuffle of footsteps as one student after another disappeared through the double doors.
Izumi sat among them, posture straight, gaze steady. He watched as each name was called and each hopeful walked in — some nervous, some confident, all uncertain.
Then, the door opened again.
"Izumi Adachi."
He stood smoothly, exhaling once before walking toward the room.
The interview hall was broad and brightly lit. A long-polished table stood at the centre, where Aizawa, Present Mic, and Principal Nezu sat waiting. Behind them, the golden U.A. emblem gleamed against the wall — a silent reminder of the weight this room carried.
Izumi walked to the centre of the room and gave a measured bow.
"Good afternoon. My name is Izumi Adachi. It's an honour to be here."
Nezu's whiskers twitched in polite amusement.
"Likewise, young Adachi. Please, have a seat."
Izumi nodded once and sat down, posture straight, hands resting on his thighs. His composure was calm — controlled without being stiff.
Aizawa leaned forward slightly, elbows on the table, fingers loosely interlaced. His gaze was sharp, but not unfriendly.
"You performed well in the practicals — efficient, fast, composed. But I'd like to understand how you think."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"You rely on your quirk for speed and augmentation. How do you plan to grow beyond your quirk?"
Izumi nodded slowly, considering his words before answering.
"My quirk is versatile," he said, raising his right hand over the table, palm facing down.
Faint blue sparks danced along his fingers, humming softly in the still air.
"It allows me to enhance my body — speed, strength, reflexes, perception — every function can be elevated."
He turned his palm upward. The lightning condensed into a small sphere hovering above his hand, tendrils of blue energy wrapping around it in controlled motion.
"But it's not limited to that. I can also project and manipulate it externally, as an emitter — shaping it, directing it, adapting it."
He closed his hand, letting the lightning fade.
"I'm still discovering new applications. That's why I want to learn from those stronger than me — people who can see things I can't. U.A. offers both: knowledge and competition. It's the ideal environment to evolve."
Then, with a faint smile, he added,
"And I'm not dependent on my quirk. I've trained in hand-to-hand combat since I was a child. I can hold my own without it… just like you, Mr. Aizawa."
The room fell silent. It wasn't awe — these were people who had seen decades of extraordinary talent — but the quiet carried weight. Respect, perhaps. Recognition.
After a long moment, Aizawa gave a slow nod.
"Good answer," he said simply.
Nezu tapped a small paw against the tabletop, studying Izumi thoughtfully.
"You've got quite a presence, young man — one that draws attention whether you seek it or not. People will follow you, whether you intend them to."
He leaned back, voice still calm but with a glint of curiosity in his eyes.
"It will be interesting to see how you use it. Now, tell me — what drives you? From your words, I can tell you strive for strength. But strength for its own sake rarely lasts. So… what is it you're truly after?"
Izumi's expression softened, a faint smile touching his lips.
"To put it plainly… I want strength so I can protect the people I care about — my family, my friends, and those who can't protect themselves."
He paused briefly, his tone steady but sincere.
"My parents taught me that when you're blessed with something — power, talent, or opportunity — it becomes your responsibility to use it for those who weren't. I guess… that's what drives me."
For a few moments, the room fell silent. The air wasn't heavy — just thoughtful.
Nezu's whiskers twitched as a small smile curved his face.
"A noble goal. Simple, but grounded in kindness."
Aizawa tilted his head slightly, studying Izumi with quiet interest.
"You mentioned discipline and awareness. You come from a prestigious background, don't you? The Adachi name carries weight."
Izumi inclined his head respectfully.
"Yes, sir. Our family runs a large conglomerate — we operate in several industries: technology, construction, real estate, and even support equipment manufacturing. Me and my sister were fortunate to be given independence — to pursue our own paths instead of inheriting responsibilities by default."
He paused, his tone still calm but measured.
"But we understand the influence our family carries. Every action we take reflects on that name. We try to make sure those actions create something positive — and thankfully, we have good people around us who help us do that. I haven't turned my back on our family's work, but right now, my journey is about growing strong enough to stand on my own. That way, when I return, I'll bring more to the table than just the name."
A faint spark of approval flickered in Nezu's eyes.
"Well said. Awareness and humility — those traits tend to carry people further than power ever will."
Izumi nodded lightly. "I believe so too."
Present Mic leaned forward, breaking the quiet with his usual grin.
"Man, you talk like an old philosopher, kid! So tell me this — what makes U.A. special to you? You could've gone anywhere. Why here?"
Izumi's smile widened just slightly, amusement glinting in his eyes.
"Because my parents asked me to."
That earned a few surprised looks — and a laugh from Present Mic.
"Wait, seriously?"
Izumi chuckled softly.
"They both studied here once. They told me U.A. isn't just a school — it's where you build the foundation of who you'll become. The people you meet, the challenges you face, the lessons you learn… they stay with you long after graduation. My parents wanted me to experience that same kind of growth — to learn from the best, and stand among people who share the same drive."
He hesitated for a moment, a trace of warmth in his voice.
"And also… this is the place where they met. So, maybe they're hoping I'll have a 'fortunate encounter' of my own."
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he finished.
The silence that followed wasn't tense — it was soft, filled with quiet understanding.
Nezu chuckled lightly.
"Ah, I see. Playing matchmaker is indeed a universal parental trait."
Present Mic burst out laughing, leaning back in his chair.
"Ha! Your folks sound like good people!"
Izumi smiled faintly, the corners of his eyes relaxing.
"They are. Though I should clarify — I'm not exactly interested in that sort of thing right now. My parents are just… hopeful."
Aizawa exhaled, adjusting his scarf, his tone dry as ever.
"As long as you don't turn this place into a matchmaking experiment, we'll be fine."
Present Mic burst out laughing, leaning back in his chair.
"Ha! Hear that, Eraser? Kid's already got more focus than half the pro heroes I know!"
Izumi chuckled quietly, shaking his head. The air in the room lightened — the formal tension giving way to something easier, almost comfortable.
For the first time since the interview began, it didn't feel like an assessment anymore — it felt like a conversation.
Aizawa spoke first, his voice even but faintly approving.
"You're composed. Focused. Not one to talk more than required."
Izumi nodded once. "Thank you, sir."
Present Mic leaned back in his chair, flashing a wide grin.
"You've got the makings of a fine hero already — calm mind, strong heart. That's a rare combo, kid."
Nezu made a note in his small ledger, his tone thoughtful.
"An exceptional candidate. A sense of duty without arrogance… I like that."
Izumi stood, bowing respectfully once more.
"Thank you for your time."
As the doors closed softly behind him, the faint sound of pens scratching filled the room.
Aizawa exhaled through his nose, leaning back slightly.
"He's disciplined. A bit formal, but he's the kind of student who sets the bar for others."
He adjusted his scarf. "Strong spirit, solid foundation. I can see why he was recommended."
Nezu's whiskers twitched in amusement.
"Sharp, self-aware, and deliberate. He might just give me a few new ideas. I believe he'll fit here perfectly."
Present Mic chuckled.
"And polite, too! Guess we've got one of those 'model student' types this year. Bet the rest of the class will love that."
Aizawa gave him a side glance. "Or hate it."
That earned another loud laugh from Mic, breaking the brief quiet.
Outside, Izumi walked down the hall, exhaling softly as the tension of the interview faded.
He glanced up at the large U.A. emblem engraved above the corridor doors and smiled faintly.
"So it begins."