Time: Last month before the Entrance Exam.POV: Katsuki Bakugou
Hell isn't fire and brimstone. Hell is trying to get Toga Himiko to memorize Japanese historical periods when her brain only wants to classify blood types.
We are in my room. Two weeks left until the exam. The floor is covered in textbooks, snack wrappers, and three teenagers on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
"I give up!" Toga shouts, throwing the classical literature book against the wall. She flops backward onto my bed, letting her head hang off the edge. "If Tokugawa Ieyasu wanted to unify Japan, he should have just stabbed everyone and been done with it! Why do I have to know his horse's name?"
"Because U.A. is a prestigious school, damn it," I growl from my desk, massaging my temples. "If you don't pass the written exam, it doesn't matter how many robots you destroy in the practical. They'll send you to General Studies with the extras."
"But it's boring..." she moans.
Izuku, sitting on the floor with his legs crossed and surrounded by flashcards, raises a finger. "Toga-chan, use the mnemonics we practiced."
Toga sighs and closes her eyes. "Okay, okay... The Edo Period is... the period of 'instinct repression' (long peace). The Meiji Restoration is... when 'the blood flowed again' (modernization and wars)."
"Exactly!" Izuku celebrates. "See, if you translate it into your language, it makes sense."
I look at the nerd. His ability to translate academic concepts into "psychopath language" is disturbing, but effective. I stand up and walk to my closet. We've studied enough history. It's time for applied physics.
"Enough books," I announce. "Let's go to the workshop. I have gifts."
Toga jumps up, forgetting her academic misery instantly. "Gifts? Are they knives? Is it clothes?"
"Better. It's survival."
(...)
The garage smells of grease and cold metal. On the workbench, illuminated by the white light of the lamp, rest the fruits of my sleepless nights.
"Come closer," I order.
I point to two objects. The first is a set of innocent-looking school pens and markers. The second is a pair of dark green and black metal gauntlets, robust but aerodynamic.
"Toga, this is for you," I toss her the pencil case. "Since you can't bring your 'villain' gear to the exam without the teachers arresting you, I improvised."
Toga opens one of the markers. The tip isn't felt; it's a very fine retractable hypodermic needle. The body of the pen is a reinforced vial. "They contain 50 milliliters of pressurized blood," I explain. "Enough for a five-minute emergency transformation. And if you need to attack, the casing is titanium alloy. You can stab a robot right in the internal wiring."
"They're beautiful!" she squeals, hugging the case as if it were a teddy bear. "Lethal school supplies! Thank you, Katsuki-kun!"
"And you, Deku."
Izuku looks at the gauntlets. His eyes shine. He recognizes the design. It's the evolution of "Project Atlas" that I rejected the day of the gas accident. "Atlas Mark II," I mutter, handing him one. "Put them on."
Izuku slides his arm inside. The gauntlet adjusts with a hydraulic hiss. It covers from the forearm to the knuckles, leaving the fingers free but reinforced by external plates. "They aren't like the ones from I-Island I saw in American magazines," I warn him. "Those are cutting-edge technology that absorbs 100% of the impact. These are... more rudimentary."
I point to the pistons on the wrist. "They have recoil buffers. If you use 8% of One For All, they will absorb the vibration so you don't splinter your bones from accumulated fatigue. But their main function isn't to protect you."
I grab Izuku's hand and extend his fingers. "It's to direct." I point to the small grooves at the fingertips of the gauntlet. "I designed this to work with your Full Cowl. If you snap your fingers or throw a punch at the air at 15% or 20%, the gauntlet will compress the displaced air and fire it like a projectile."
Izuku gasps. "Ranged attacks? Like your AP Shot?"
"Similar. But with wind. It will allow you to attack without getting so close, and if you go over power..." I touch a safety valve on the back of the hand "the gauntlet will break before your arm does. It's a fuse."
Izuku looks at the green metal on his arms. He clenches his fist. The mechanism hums softly. "Thanks, Kacchan. Really."
"Don't thank me. Use them to not die."
2 Days Left: The Last Supper
The Midoriya household was full. Too full for a standard Japanese apartment, but no one was complaining. My mother, Mitsuki, was in the kitchen arguing with Inko about the amount of spice in the stew (my mother was winning, obviously). My father, Masaru, was on the sofa, showing Toga baby photos of me while she laughed hysterically.
"Look at those cheeks!" Toga said, pointing to a photo where I was three years old and looked like I wanted to bite the photographer. "You were an explosive dumpling!"
"Delete that shit, old man!" I yelled from the table, where I was reviewing the admission list with Izuku.
"Let her be, Katsuki," Izuku said, smiling. "It's good to see her laugh without... you know."
Without thirst. Yes. It had been weeks since Toga had an episode. The routine, the acceptance, and the controlled "diet" had stabilized her. Her parents, those suburban imbeciles, had signed the permissions for the U.A. exam without asking. For them, having their "problematic" daughter go to a hero boarding school was a blessing. They washed their hands of her. Good. She was ours now.
"Dinner time!" Inko announced, bringing a steaming pot of katsudon and curry (a strange mix to please everyone).
The six of us sat down. The noise was deafening. Mitsuki shouting anecdotes, Toga stealing pieces of meat from Izuku's plate, Masaru trying to keep the peace, and Inko constantly refilling our glasses.
I looked at the scene. In my previous life, loneliness was my roommate. In this life, at first, I tried to keep that loneliness as a shield. I thought attachment would make me weak, that it would distract me from "saving the future."
I look at Inko stroking Toga's hair. I look at my mother slapping Izuku on the back. I look at my father pouring me water without me asking.
I realize that the future isn't saved with fists. It's saved by protecting this. These noisy tables. These stupid laughs. This is what All Might was trying to protect with his smile. And this is what I am going to protect with my artillery.
"A toast," Masaru said, raising his glass. "To the future U.A. students."
"To the Delta Squad!" Izuku added, raising his juice.
"To blood and curry!" Toga toasted.
"To not getting expelled on the first day," I finished, clinking my glass with theirs.
Day 0: The Dawn
Musutafu train station was packed with middle school students. But the three of us occupied our own space.
We stood in front of the entrance. The morning sun reflected off the gigantic H-shaped glass building of U.A. Academy. The "Wall." The gateway to the canon.
Toga wore a standard middle school uniform (the sailor style), but she had managed to sneak her "special pens" into her pockets and wore the reinforced boots I modified for her. She was registered under her real name: Himiko Toga. No record. No crimes. Just a girl with a difficult Quirk and a lot of desire to fight.
Izuku wore his school uniform, but his bulky backpack hid the Atlas gauntlets and his modified red sneakers. He wasn't trembling anymore. His back was straight. One For All hummed beneath his skin at 8%, a constant and controlled current.
And me... I was simply ready. My hands were warm. My mind reviewed trajectory equations and the chemical formulas of my new grenades.
"Alright," I said, breaking the silence. "Listen up."
Both looked at me. "We aren't here to participate. We aren't here to 'do our best'." I pointed at the building. "We are here to dominate." I looked at Toga. "You, destroy the robots' circuits. Use your speed. Don't let anyone tell you your Quirk is useless for this." I looked at Izuku. "You, don't break. Use your head. And you better not fall behind."
Izuku smiled. A predatory smile, a mix of my influence and Ogawa's. "I'll see you on the scoreboard, Kacchan. At number one or two."
"Heh. Dreaming is free."
I extended my fist. Izuku bumped his against mine. Toga put her hand on top of ours.
"See you on the other side," I said.
The gates opened. The exam had begun.