"So it begins."
A voice broke his quiet moment.
"What are you doing, weirdo?"
Ayaka suddenly leaned into his line of sight, her face appearing right beside his — her expression deadpan but playful.
Izumi sighed, placing a hand on her face and pushing her head gently away.
"I was saying our journey begins here."
Ayaka stepped back, crossing her arms with exaggerated seriousness and nodding like an old philosopher.
"Hmm, yes… it does."
Before he could respond, the interview room door slid open.
"Next — Ayaka Adachi."
Ayaka turned toward the door, tossing her braid over her shoulder.
"I'm up. See you later, loser. Momo's waiting in the canteen — I'll join you both after."
Izumi smirked. "Don't take too long."
"Don't hold your breath," she shot back with a grin before walking into the room.
The quiet hum of conversation filled the canteen.
Momo sat at a table near the window, posture composed as always, a cup of tea resting untouched in front of her.
She looked up when Izumi approached.
"You finished?"
He nodded, taking the seat across from her.
"Yeah. It went well enough. They were testing more than just my answers, though."
Momo smiled faintly. "They always do. Mr. Aizawa has a way of reading people."
Izumi leaned back slightly, glancing out the window at the training grounds beyond.
"Guess that's what makes him good at his job. It's his way of testing people."
For a moment, neither spoke — just the quiet clinking of cups and the soft murmur of distant voices.
Then Momo spoke again, voice gentle but curious.
"So… how do you feel now that it's over?"
Izumi paused, thinking.
"Relieved. But it doesn't feel like an ending. More like the start of something big."
Momo's smile softened, her gaze lingering on him a little longer than necessary.
"I'm sure it is," she said quietly.
Izumi smiled slightly and looked out the window.
Momo lifted her cup, taking a quiet sip as the two of them sat there — watching the afternoon light spill across the training grounds outside.
Ayaka stepped into the interview hall with quiet composure.
Where Izumi's presence had felt sharp, disciplined, and precise — hers was calm, deliberate, and quietly commanding. There was a strange sense of gravity to her presence, as though the very air adjusted to make space for her.
Her long silver-grey hair was neatly tied back, and her posture was perfect — chin slightly raised, shoulders relaxed but aligned. When she bowed, it was with the effortless grace that only came from discipline and upbringing.
"Good afternoon," she said politely, her voice steady and clear. "It's an honour to meet you all."
Nezu's whiskers twitched with amusement. "Ah, the second Adachi. A pleasure indeed. Please, take a seat."
Ayaka nodded once, walking to the chair and sitting down with smooth precision. She folded her hands neatly in her lap, her back straight and her gaze forward. Every movement she made seemed measured — practiced — yet entirely natural. It was subtle, but anyone watching could see faint echoes of her brother's composure in the way she carried herself.
Present Mic grinned. "You Adachis sure know how to make an entrance! Calm, collected — kinda intimidating, not gonna lie."
Ayaka smiled faintly. "I've been told that before."
Aizawa leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table. His voice was level but observant.
"Your performance in the practical exam was impressive. Spatial folding, consistent accuracy, no hesitation. You used your quirk with control, not recklessness."
He studied her for a moment. "Tell me — how do you see yourself using a quirk like that in actual hero work?"
Ayaka nodded slightly before answering — her tone calm, deliberate.
"My quirk allows me to manipulate space in several ways. Like my brother's, it's versatile, and I'm still discovering its limits."
Her gaze moved from Aizawa to Nezu as she continued, "In rescue operations, I could shorten the distance between the injured and medical teams, minimizing travel time. It can make the difference between life and death."
As she spoke, her right hand turned upward on the table, her fingers relaxed. A faint shimmer of distortion appeared around her palm, and in the next instant, a pen materialized between her fingers.
Aizawa's eyes flicked down — his pen was missing from the notepad in front of him.
Ayaka gently placed the pen back on the table. "And in active combat," she continued smoothly, "I can control engagement ranges. By bending the space between opponents, I can disrupt attacks, control movement, and minimize collateral damage."
For a moment, the room felt… different. The distance between her and the panel stretched subtly, the air itself bending. The table seemed longer, the walls farther away — as though the space around them had expanded without a sound.
It lasted only a second. Then the distortion faded.
Everything was back to how it was — the pen resting once again beside Aizawa's notepad, the room's proportions normal.
Nezu's eyes gleamed with curiosity, but Ayaka sat motionless, her expression calm.
"In short," she said softly, "my goal is to make every move purposeful. Never excessive."
There was a pause — brief but telling.
Nezu's small smile returned. "Like your brother, then."
Ayaka's lips curved faintly. "He's always been good at making sure every move has meaning. I've learned a lot by watching him."
Aizawa leaned back slightly, adjusting his scarf. "You both show remarkable discipline. That level of composure usually takes years to develop."
Present Mic grinned, leaning back in his chair. "And a little scary. You sure you're not secretly running a hero agency already?"
Ayaka smiled, polite and unreadable. "Not yet."
Nezu's whiskers twitched, his expression brightening with genuine curiosity.
"You speak of purpose and restraint," he said, his tone warm but probing. "Where do you think that comes from — discipline or empathy?"
Ayaka smiled softly. "Both, I think. My brother and I were raised in a family that values discipline — order, patience, and precision. But my mother always said that strength without compassion leads to tyranny. So, I learned to think before I act — not because hesitation is safer, but because people's lives can depend on what you decide in a single moment."
For a few seconds, the room was silent. Nezu's sharp eyes softened, a hint of approval gleaming in them.
"Very well said," he murmured. "A tactician with empathy — quite a rare combination."
He leaned forward slightly, resting one paw atop the other. His voice carried that familiar mix of calm and mischief.
"You handled every stage of the exam with composure and precision. Tell me, Ayaka — what does being a hero mean to you?"
Ayaka's gaze stayed steady as she answered. "To me, being a hero isn't just about saving people from danger. It's also about improving their lives — creating a world where fewer people need to be saved."
Her tone was even, thoughtful.
"There are many ways to help others. You don't always need to wear a costume or be on the front lines to make a difference. A doctor who saves a life, an engineer who makes a safer city, or a researcher who creates better medicine — they're heroes too, in their own ways."
She paused briefly before continuing.
"My mother and I work closely with our company's research division to develop new technologies that combine quirk applications with medical and support systems. If used properly, our resources can strengthen the world's foundation — not just react to its problems."
Her words lingered in the quiet room.
Nezu nodded thoughtfully. "You see the broader picture — the infrastructure that holds society together. Very good."
Before the silence could deepen, Present Mic leaned back with his usual grin.
"Alright, but real talk — your quirk's wild! Folding space? You could launch a villain into orbit if you wanted! What keeps you from losing control with that kind of power?"
Ayaka's answer came calm and measured. "My quirk might look powerful, but it's demanding — both mentally and physically. Every fold, every adjustment, requires complex calculations and perfect timing. Even a small miscalculation could cause catastrophic results. So, I don't have the luxury of arrogance. Or the right to be careless."
She looked directly at him, her tone firm but composed.
"I can't send anyone into orbit — not yet at least. And even if I could, I wouldn't. My quirk bends the rules of reality, but that doesn't mean I can ignore responsibility. Power is best used when it is meant to protect, not to dominate."
Aizawa let out a quiet hum, eyes thoughtful. "That's a rare mindset — and one most pros don't develop until they've made mistakes first."
Nezu scribbled something into his notes, the scratch of pen faint but deliberate.
He looked back up at her, smiling. "Tell me, Ayaka — your brother spoke about duty and growth. You seem to share similar ideals. What makes your path different from his?"
Ayaka tilted her head slightly, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
"From the outside, we might look similar — calm, disciplined, collected — but our philosophies are worlds apart. My brother believes the world is cruel by nature. To him, strength is the only way to protect what matters. He thinks corruption and injustice persist because those responsible aren't held accountable. His justice is sharp — efficient, like a blade."
She paused briefly, then continued, her tone softening.
"I see things differently. I believe that even in the worst people, there's still a small trace of good — a spark that can be reached. My goal is to help people find their way back before that spark goes out completely. If Izumi sharpens the blade, then I make sure it doesn't cut the wrong way."
For a moment, none of the panel spoke. The quiet that followed wasn't from doubt — but respect.
Nezu's eyes gleamed with approval. "Beautifully put. Two sides of the same coin, it seems."
Present Mic leaned his chin into his palm, grinning. "Man, you two sound like you could run an agency together — one talks, the other scares villains straight. Perfect combo."
Even Aizawa's lips twitched slightly, though his tone remained dry. "Let's just hope their philosophies don't clash too often."
Ayaka's expression softened. "We balance each other. That's enough."
Aizawa nodded once, leaning back.
"Last question," he said, his tone calm but intent. "Why U.A.? You could study anywhere in the world — you clearly have the intellect for it."
Ayaka smiled softly.
"My parents told me that this would be the best place for me to grow — both in strength and as a person. It's also where they studied, and where All Might himself trained. Even though Izumi doesn't show it, he's always admired All Might. In a way, we both wanted to experience the same place that shaped the Symbol of Peace — and, hopefully, learn how to give back to the world as he did."
Nezu's eyes glimmered with understanding. "All Might does have that effect on aspiring heroes."
Ayaka's lips curved into a light smile. "And… my parents also asked me to keep an eye on my brother."
That earned a quiet chuckle from the panel. Even Aizawa's lips twitched at the corner.
Ayaka rose from her seat and gave a small, respectful bow.
"Thank you for your time. It's been an honour."
Nezu smiled warmly. "The honour's ours. You speak with wisdom far beyond your years, Miss Adachi."
She nodded once, turned, and walked out with her usual calm precision. The door closed softly behind her, leaving the room in a momentary silence.
Present Mic whistled low. "Man… the Adachis don't miss."
Aizawa crossed his arms, exhaling faintly. "Calm, controlled, knows her limits — and her purpose."
Nezu jotted something down in his notes, his voice almost amused.
"Indeed. A strategist who understands people. Dangerous, in the best possible way."
Aizawa pulled a folder closer and made a note of his own.
"If they both enroll," he said evenly, "I'm putting them in the same class. It'll either make them stronger… or break the curve for everyone else."
Present Mic laughed quietly. "Either way, it's gonna be fun to watch."
Outside the interview hall, Ayaka found Izumi and Momo seated by the large glass windows overlooking the campus grounds. The sunlight spilled through, washing the room in a calm golden hue.
Momo looked up first. "You're done?"
Ayaka nodded, taking the seat beside her brother. "Yes. It went well."
Izumi leaned back slightly, a faint smirk forming. "Of course it did."
Ayaka shrugged, matching his tone. "Naturally."
Momo smiled quietly, her eyes moving between the two siblings. "You both make it sound so effortless."
Ayaka chuckled softly. "It's not. But composure helps."
They sat together for a while, watching the view outside — the open training grounds gleaming under the late afternoon sun.
It was quiet, peaceful — the calm before everything began.