Monday morning.
The atmosphere at Sobu High changed.
It wasn't the weather. The sun was shining.
It was the dread.
A dark, heavy cloud hung over the hallways.
Midterm exams were one week away.
For normal students, this was annoying.
For the Nakano Quintuplets, this was the apocalypse.
For me, it was just another obstacle between me and sleep.
I walked into the classroom.
My body was vibrating.
Not from excitement. From muscle tremors.
Yagi had me dragging engine blocks through the sand yesterday.
My grip strength was gone. holding a pen felt like holding a sledgehammer.
I sat down.
I put my head on the desk.
"Five minutes," I whispered. "Just five minutes."
Voice: "Yukinoshita! Wake up!"
I didn't move.
"Go away. I'm dead."
Voice: "You can't be dead. You have math to do."
I looked up.
Fuutarou Uesugi was standing there.
He looked stressed. More than usual.
His hair was messy. He was holding a stack of flashcards.
YN: "Uesugi. You look manic."
Fuutarou: "I am not manic. I am efficient. And I need your help."
YN: "My help? You're the top student in your grade. Ask yourself."
Fuutarou: "It's not for me. It's for... them."
He pointed to the back of the room.
The Quintuplets were gathered around a desk.
Yotsuba had a textbook on her head. Like a hat.
Itsuki was eating a meat bun while staring at a blank notebook.
Nino was applying nail polish.
Miku was wearing her headphones, blocking out the world.
Ichika was asleep.
YN: "The Idiot Brigade. Got it."
Fuutarou: "They are going to fail. All of them. And if they fail, I get fired as their tutor. And if I get fired, my family starves."
YN: "High stakes."
Fuutarou: "Your sister is the top student here. You share her genes. You must be smart."
YN: "That's a logical fallacy, but continue."
Fuutarou: "Join our study group today. Library. After school."
YN: "Can't. I have... work."
Fuutarou: "I'll buy you lunch. The expensive katsu sandwich."
I paused.
The katsu sandwich was 500 yen.
It was delicious.
And I needed calories.
Yagi said "Eat like a king."
YN: "Throw in a coffee milk, and you have a deal."
Fuutarou: "Done."
4:00 PM.
The library was quiet.
Until we arrived.
We took over a large table in the back.
The Quintuplets sat in a row.
Me and Fuutarou sat opposite them.
It felt like an interrogation.
Fuutarou: "Alright. History. Who can tell me the year of the Battle of Sekigahara?"
Silence.
Yotsuba raised her hand.
Yotsuba: "1999!"
Fuutarou: "That is when One Piece started airing in the anime! No!"
Miku: "1600."
Fuutarou: "Correct! Miku, good job."
Miku blushed and hid in her scarf.
Nino looked at her nails.
Nino: "Why is he here? Uesugi isn't enough torture?"
She pointed a manicured nail at me.
YN: "I'm here for the sandwich. Don't flatter yourself."
Nino: "Hah? You think I'd flatter you? You look like you sleep in a dumpster."
YN: "Close. I sleep on a beach. It's exfoliating."
Ichika: "Ara ara. Is YN-kun homeless? Do you need a place to stay?"
She smiled mischievously.
Ichika was dangerous. She was the oldest sister and the best liar.
YN: "I have a house, Ichika. It's just... strict."
Itsuki: "Can we focus? I need to understand this equation before I can eat my snack."
She held a pudding cup hostage.
YN: "Give me the math book."
I took the book.
I looked at the problem. Quadratic functions.
Simple stuff.
But explaining it to five different personalities was the hard part.
YN: "Okay. Imagine the parabola is a ball being thrown."
Yotsuba: "Sports! I get it!"
YN: "The peak is the vertex. If you throw it too hard, it goes out of bounds. That's a negative integer."
Yotsuba: "Oh! So don't be negative! Got it!"
YN: "Not exactly... but close enough."
We studied for two hours.
It was chaotic.
Fuutarou yelled a lot.
I quietly corrected their mistakes while eating my sandwich.
I felt my eyes getting heavy.
The library was warm. The chairs were soft.
My body, exhausted from weeks of training, started to shut down.
I blinked.
The world went dark.
"YN? YN-kun?"
I woke up.
Someone was poking my cheek.
I opened my eyes.
Miku was leaning over me.
Her face was very close.
She smelled like matcha tea.
I sat up quickly.
I wiped a small line of drool from my mouth.
Classy.
YN: "Did I pass out?"
Miku: "Yeah. For thirty minutes."
I looked around.
Fuutarou was gone.
The other sisters were gone.
Just Miku.
YN: "Where is everyone?"
Miku: "Fuutarou gave up. Nino got bored. The others went to get food."
YN: "And you stayed?"
Miku: "I... I wanted to finish the history notes. You said you'd help."
She pushed her notebook toward me.
Her handwriting was neat, but small.
She looked at me with those big, blue eyes.
In the anime, Miku was the fan favorite.
I could see why.
She was adorable.
But I was a man on a mission.
I checked my watch.
6:30 PM.
Crap.
I had to eat dinner with Yukino, then meet Aizawa at 10 PM.
YN: "Okay. Rapid fire. Let's finish this in ten minutes."
Miku: "Okay."
We worked quickly.
She was smart. She just lacked confidence.
When she got an answer right, she did a little fist pump.
It was cute.
YN: "Done. You're ready for the test."
Miku: "Thank you, YN-kun."
YN: "No problem. Just... don't tell Nino I was helpful. She hates being wrong."
Miku: "Nino is... difficult. But she cares."
YN: "Sure. She cares about killing me with her glare."
I packed my bag.
I stood up.
My legs felt stiff.
Miku noticed me wince.
Miku: "Are you hurt?"
YN: "Just tired. Sports training."
Miku: "You work hard. Like Fuutarou."
YN: "I guess. See you tomorrow, Nakano."
I walked out.
I felt a little guilty.
I was lying to everyone.
"Sports training." "Moving job."
Lies upon lies.
But the truth was too dangerous.
If Miku knew I was hanging out with All Might, she'd probably faint.
Or worse, blog about it.
Dinner was uneventful.
Yukino was pleased that I studied at the library.
She didn't ask who I studied with.
If she knew it was the "Idiot Brigade," she would have lectured me on "wasting resources."
I ate quickly.
I went to my room.
I did my homework.
At 9:30 PM, I sneaked out.
The rendezvous point was different tonight.
Not the beach. Not a tower.
An old judo dojo in the suburbs.
It looked abandoned. The sign was falling off.
I slid the door open.
Inside, the mats were worn but clean.
Eraserhead (Aizawa) was standing in the center.
He wasn't wearing his goggles.
He looked like a tired homeless man.
Yagi was sitting in the corner, eating a bento.
Yagi: "Welcome to the Dojo of Silence!"
YN: "You just shouted that. Not very silent."
Aizawa: "Ignore him. He's loud by nature."
I walked onto the mat.
I took off my shoes.
YN: "So, what's the plan? More tires?"
Aizawa: "No. Tires build muscle. Muscle is useless if you can't hit anything."
He wrapped his capture scarf around his neck.
Aizawa: "You don't have a quirk yet. That means if you fight a villain today, you die."
YN: "I tackled that robber."
Aizawa: "He was an amateur. A thug. A real villain would have gutted you."
He stepped forward.
His stance was loose. Relaxed.
Aizawa: "Come at me. Try to hit me."
YN: "Seriously? You're a pro."
Aizawa: "And you're a target. Attack."
I took a breath.
I recalled the moves I saw in movies.
I lunged. A right hook.
Aizawa didn't even blink.
He sidestepped.
He swept my leg.
WHAM.
I hit the mat hard. The air left my lungs.
Aizawa: "Too slow. Too telegraphed. You look at where you want to punch."
YN: "Ow."
Aizawa: "Get up."
I got up.
I tried again. A kick.
He caught my leg.
He flipped me over his shoulder.
WHAM.
I stared at the ceiling.
The wood patterns were nice.
Yagi: "Keep your guard up, YN-shonen! Protect the chin!"
YN: "Easy for you to say! You're invincible!"
Aizawa: "I'm not. I just have technique. Again."
We did this for two hours.
I hit the mat fifty times.
I didn't land a single hit on Aizawa.
My body was covered in new bruises.
My uniform was going to need serious ironing.
Aizawa: "Stop."
I collapsed on my knees. panting. sweat dripping onto the mat.
Aizawa: "You have decent reflexes. But you rely on instinct. You panic."
He tossed me a water bottle.
Aizawa: "When you get One For All, you will be strong. But strength isn't enough. You need to be rational."
YN: "Rational... like Yukino."
Aizawa: "Who?"
YN: "My sister. She's a logic monster."
Aizawa: "Sounds like she'd make a good hero. You, on the other hand, are emotional."
YN: "I'm working on it."
Yagi: "He stepped in to save civilians twice! Emotion drives him!"
Aizawa: "Emotion gets you killed. Logic keeps you alive."
Aizawa looked at me.
His dark eyes were serious.
Aizawa: "From now on, Tuesday and Thursday nights are combat training. No powers. Just hands."
YN: "And the other nights?"
Yagi: "Beach cleaning! We are only 20% done with the pile!"
YN: "Great. My social life is officially dead."
Midnight.
I walked home.
I was limping slightly.
Aizawa's throws were no joke. My back felt like a jigsaw puzzle put together wrong.
The streets were empty.
I passed a vending machine.
I stopped to buy a water.
I heard a noise.
Scrape. Scrape.
Like metal on concrete.
I froze.
I looked down the street.
Under a streetlight, a figure was walking.
He was wearing a hoodie.
But his hands...
He was dragging a long, metal pipe.
And he was muttering.
Stranger: "Heroes... fakes... cleanse them all..."
I felt a chill.
That mantra.
I knew it.
Stain?
No. Stain appeared later in the story.
This was someone else. A copycat? Or a follower?
The figure stopped.
He looked at a poster on the wall.
A poster of a pop-idol hero.
He slashed the poster with a knife.
SLASH.
My heart beat faster.
I was tired. I was bruised.
I had zero quirks.
Aizawa said, "Be rational."
The rational move was to call the police and hide.
I pulled out my phone.
I dialed 110.
"Police. Suspicious individual. Sector 5. Armed."
I whispered the location.
I hung up.
The figure turned.
He heard me.
He looked right at me.
His eyes were wide. Manic.
Stranger: "You... you called them?"
YN: "Yeah. They're on the way. You should probably run."
Stranger: "Snitch... society's garbage..."
He started running.
Toward me.
He raised the knife.
My body screamed RUN.
But behind me, down the street, I saw a couple walking.
They were laughing. Drunk. Oblivious.
If I ran, he would run into them.
YN: "Damn it."
I dropped my bag.
I took the stance Aizawa taught me.
Feet shoulder-width apart. Knees bent. Hands up.
"Rational," I muttered. "Don't panic."
The man lunged.
He swung the knife wildly.
I watched his shoulder.
It moved before his arm did.
Left.
I stepped right.
The knife slashed the air inches from my nose.
I grabbed his wrist.
I pulled.
I used his momentum.
I stuck my leg out.
TRIP.
He flew forward.
He hit the pavement face-first.
It wasn't a graceful judo throw.
It was ugly. But it worked.
The knife skittered away.
He scrambled to get up.
I kicked him in the ribs.
THUD.
"Stay down!" I yelled.
He groaned.
He looked at me with hate.
Then, sirens wailed.
The police were close.
The man scrambled up, clutching his side.
He looked at the knife, then at the approaching lights.
He spat on the ground.
"This isn't over."
He ran down a side alley.
I didn't chase him.
Aizawa's voice in my head: Don't be a hero. Be rational.
I picked up my bag.
My hands were shaking again.
But this time, I defended myself.
I didn't need saving.
The police car turned the corner.
I pulled my hood up and walked away casually.
Just a student walking home.
Nothing to see here.
I got back to my room at 12:45 AM.
I sat on my bed.
I looked at my hands.
One scraped knuckle.
I clenched my fist.
I felt it.
A tiny, microscopic buzz.
Deep inside.
Like a battery starting to charge.
One For All was waking up.
Or maybe it was just adrenaline.
I lay back on the pillow.
Tomorrow was Tuesday.
More studying with the Quints.
More training with Yagi.
And apparently, dodging knife-wielding maniacs was now a weekly activity.
YN: "I miss romcoms."
I closed my eyes.
I dreamed of formulas and throwing knives.
Midterms were going to be a breeze compared to this.