Thorny Path of a Pro-Hero

First day of school, evening.

Hallway on the fifth floor of the 1-A dormitory, U.A. Academy grounds.

Setsuna Tokage.

Setsuna had finally finished unpacking her belongings—she and her mom had stuffed several suitcases to the brim while packing, and as a result, she had so many "essential" items that no amount of multitasking could help her sort things out quickly. And Yui—some friend!—had flatly refused to help, citing the excuse that she also had things to unpack, and besides, "You’re not a kid anymore, Setsuna. Deal with it yourself, leave me alone, and let's talk tomorrow."

Setsuna did manage to figure it out on her own, but she had a sneaking suspicion that winter clothes in May weren’t really necessary, and that underwear probably shouldn’t be piled up in the corner of the room.

She turned the corner and headed from the women's wing of the dorm toward the men's.

Well, fine! Not that anyone would come visit her often—it would be her, the magnificent Setsuna, who would be dropping by to visit others! Let them feel… gratitude…

Setsuna slowed down, came to a stop, and finally froze in place.

The thing was, someone was already trying to get into Niren’s room, the person she had hoped to barge in on for some leisurely doing-nothing.

That someone was… Niren himself.

Humming to himself, her friend, teacher, and, truth be told, idol, was industriously fiddling with the lock of his own door, leaning against the doorframe with his cheek, picking the lock with a knife, and very indecently sticking his rear out into the hallway.

Setsuna blinked. She blinked again. She took her eyes into her hand, gave them a good shake, put them back in place… nothing changed. Except the humming stopped.

Tilting his head, “Niren” was now glaring at her menacingly.

Perhaps a year ago, under such a gaze, Setsuna would have been quite scared and taken a step back into the hallway.

Now… she still took a step back. Shifting her weight onto her right foot, she assumed a kumite fighting stance.

She had changed a lot over the past year.

The angry, feminine-looking Niren double tilted his head, the blade slipped from his hand… and suddenly, he began to dissolve into gray… drops…

"T-one thousand!" Setsuna screamed and ran back down the hallway.

Well, maybe she hadn’t changed as much as she thought.

***

Niren.

From the next day, a familiar, calm routine began. How I love that word. I adore routine. Everything can be calculated, everything goes according to plan...

Well, almost everything.

Yeah…

Early in the morning, I would wake up, get dressed, brush my teeth right in the room with a glass of water, meticulously warm up, and stubbornly head out for my run. Right through the window. Of the fifth floor.

And there were reasons for that!

Living in the dorm turned out to be unexpectedly difficult. Although, admittedly, it was fun too.

First of all, in the large building with thirty two rooms, there were only fifteen of us living there—Midoriya, Uraraka, Iida, Bakugo, and this weird guy Kyotaka lived at home somewhere in this city. A whole five people out of the top twenty in the entire country… a strange coincidence, in my opinion. But it’s not up to a reincarnated anime character like me to judge what’s likely and what isn’t.

The building, if you remember, had five floors.

And yet, almost half of our group, seven people, had managed to crowd onto the fifth floor. Actually, it was more like all eight of us, because Kirishima got bored on his own floor, where he lived alone, and he would "come over to visit." And with him came Mina, and suddenly, it turned out that he wasn’t living alone after all. And Yui would come over to visit Setsuna and me...

So that makes ten people already...

Among them was Tokage.

Among them was Toga.

Spoiler: these two didn’t get along from the very first day, though I wasn’t sure exactly why. But I could guess, and my guess was… jealousy?

I couldn’t explain their cat-and-dog relationship any other way. Setsuna kept showing her disapproval and even seemed to provoke conflict, trying to emphasize our "special relationship" (those moments usually made me laugh because Setsuna’s attempts at flirting looked like a game of charades). Toga… well, as you can imagine, she’s not someone you want to provoke. And she wanted to be around me one hundred percent of the time.

So, conflict arose.

I had to resolve it, as best I could.

I metaphorically explained to Tokage that Himiko wasn’t the kind of opponent she could handle in a full-on confrontation. She couldn’t get the upper hand over her.

"Yes, even despite your regeneration."

"Yes, even despite your ability to fly."

"Yes, even though Toga’s Quirk isn’t combat-related."

I also told her that my rose didn’t grow for her, Setsuna, so there was no need for anyone to be jealous.

I don’t think she got the metaphor either.

As for Himiko, I gently, as gently as possible when dealing with Toga, asked her to tone down her behavior.

"Yes, trying to cut Setsuna into ribbons would look bad in the eyes of society."

"Yes, even despite her regeneration…"

In the end, the situation with my neighbors was grim: our resident yandere did her best not to let me out of her sight for a single minute, constantly following me around and waiting by the door. Mainly to get her daily dose of blood… but that’s a separate topic.

The funniest thing was that Toga had developed the habit of stealing my t-shirts. And other things—my toothbrush, towel, even old bandages covered in brown stains.

You’d think locking the door and hiding my things would solve the problem, right? But no! As soon as I let my guard down—whether going to the shower, the bathroom, or even out for a run—it would start… ridiculous.

And yet, that was just the dorm! The real fun began when, after I’d left the locker room in U.A., I saw myself walk in wearing different clothes and casually steal my bag with my sneakers… good thing I could track her by markers, so I caught the thief in time, suppressing the growing urge to give her a spanking. Instead, I sent her off to gym class—The Hound doesn't like latecomers.

Overall, as far as I understood, it made sense for Himiko: when she liked someone—and at this point, she was only missing giving me a box of chocolates—she wanted to look like that person. Dress like them, act like them… until her Quirk-driven desire overpowered her super-ego, and then Toga would lose control and really want to become that person.

But it was so absurd… seriously, I might as well start hiding my sweaty clothes in a safe.

And since she had also moved onto my floor (next to Momo Yaoyorozu, by the way, who was terrified of her and couldn’t find the courage to stand up to her), there was no escaping Himiko. Eventually, I gave up, stopped locking my door, and just hid my important things separately. I gave her about half of my belongings, leaving her wandering around the floor happy and slightly dazed.

At first, I was irritated.

But then I accepted it—it was for the best. She needed to be supervised constantly, after all. My minor discomfort wasn’t worth mentioning if it could prevent one of my classmates from getting hurt.

…Setsuna looked at me so pitifully that I ended up throwing a t-shirt at her too, practically running out of clothes to wear.

On the other hand, having two pretty, curvy girls wandering around in oversized t-shirts that looked like dresses on them… hmm…

As for the blood and my vampire-like situation: not wanting to endure bites any longer, on the second day of school, I went to Recovery Girl, got treated, and asked for a few syringes for, uh… feeding purposes. Understanding the situation, the cheerful old lady, who no longer aroused my suspicions, gave me a whole bandolier of one hundred-milliliter syringes, along with a supply of alcohol, cotton, and a tourniquet. She sternly explained that the needles were sterile and disposable, which I already knew. But I had to nod anyway.

Drawing blood from a vein isn’t difficult—prepare the syringe, tie the tourniquet about five centimeters above the elbow, swab the injection site with alcohol… usually, by then, the vein is already bulging at the bend, like an old root. Then you poke the needle into the greenish vessel at a thirty-degree angle, slowly pulling back the plunger to draw in the dark venous blood. Simple recipe—all the Himiko Togas say it’s finger-licking good!

And yes, by the way, it’s isopropyl alcohol, for the record. No funny business here.

Oh, and when I returned to the dorm on the evening of the first day, I found Himiko engaged in outright vandalism—trying to pick my door’s lock with a knife, charging at everyone with a new (kitchen) knife, and wandering around the building in my form. In other words, embarrassing me. And Setsuna was flying around (at a safe distance), squealing, hurling insults, and generally having a great time recording everything on camera. Me. On camera.

The little brat didn’t even say a word to me...

In short, nobody got my blood that day. I mean, Himiko didn’t, which really upset her (I was actually worried she might go slice someone else, but thankfully, it didn’t happen), while Setsuna, on the other hand, did get something—across the backside.

Still, I didn’t demand that the video be deleted. Maybe I’ll laugh at it myself someday...

Returning to running and the reasons for it—since these two didn’t get along, but had managed to develop some sort of competition for my attention—Himiko would wait for me by my room in the morning, and Setsuna, taking advantage of her Quirk, would shamelessly try to fly in through my window (of course, I wouldn’t open it and would draw the curtains). I gave up again and started jumping out the window.

The height was about fifteen meters.

For me, at the moment, that was pretty high, especially since it was still dark outside.

But I got lucky with the architecture of the building: there was a wide ledge running above the first floor, which made the height more manageable for my makeshift flight abilities. Plus, the building was surrounded by thick, leafy branches of tall, sturdy trees, so if anything happened, I wasn’t at much risk—Recovery Girl would have patched me up no matter what.

However, nothing happened, and little by little, I got used to this method of descending, improving my control over the braking impulses. And that was important—I had big plans for this way of moving around...

After running, I returned to the dorm like a normal person, showered, and then headed to class with the rest of my classmates. The school uniform still annoyed me, but there wasn’t much I could do about that—if even Himiko, who tried to transform into me at every opportunity, didn’t risk damaging her blouse and skirt and wore them properly every day, then I really had no right to complain.

The schedule was incredibly diverse—every day we had the same subjects! There was an upside, though—physical training was also daily. Classes lasted fifty minutes, with a ten minute break—pretty standard. There were seven lessons per day, plus an hour for lunch. Classes started at eight forty AM and ended at four PM.

We also had a short but mandatory morning meeting with Aizawa, where we spent ten minutes listening to our homeroom teacher snore in his sleeping bag.

And yes, we had classes on Saturdays.

Interestingly, students of the Hero Course left school last; we had one more lesson than the others. I can’t say I felt exhausted by the end of the day, but it was clear that no one was taking it easy on us—we were being taught in earnest. And that was good.

At first glance, our list of subjects looked completely ordinary: English, modern literature, modern art, history, mathematics, physics, and physical education. Along with hero training basics, both theory and practice, which sounded a bit less mundane. Practical classes happened a couple of times a week.

This was the list known to the general public outside U.A., printed in those brochures from Aizawa and posted on the Academy’s website.

But why would real, professional heroes—here it’s worth noting that all our teachers were indeed professional heroes, at least at some point in their careers—teach these basic school subjects?

"There’s no reason," a smart Niren person would answer, and they’d be right.

Most of the students didn’t realize this until the third or fourth day, but Yui, Setsuna, and I suspected it from the start and were just waiting for confirmation: each hero had their "official" subject and their "unofficial" subject, which they taught simultaneously. And it was the second one that was important to us as heroes.

Why exactly the Academy and its fluffy carpe…—er, principal—chose this model of education was never explained to us. My guess was that since hero schools actively compete with each other, U.A., being a private institution, hides a significant part of its curriculum. They can afford to, given their reputation—after all, even All Might had been a student here.

How did the dual nature of subjects manifest itself?

Take Cementoss, for example. Reminiscent of a living concrete block with his rectangular, straightforward approach, Cementoss was, nonetheless, a literature teacher. Officially.

Unofficially, he was a teacher of basic superhero and professional ethics. He constantly gave us examples of the moral dilemmas that heroes face during their work and offered the most appropriate solutions. Sometimes, he even asked us to come up with our own. A really great guy, actually—I liked him a lot. Ken Ishiyama, that’s his name, encouraged us to think for ourselves.

Ectoplasm, who invited me to the Academy, was the math teacher here. Officially. Ha! Three times over!

In reality, he provided us with the basics of tactical interaction in small combat groups. He also taught us the fundamentals of ballistic calculations, helping us plot trajectories and angles. He even touched on probability theory once—in the context of disarming bombs! Even I was a bit taken aback by that. All the problems, all the examples, all the equations, and every single assignment were highly specialized and practical, focusing entirely on our future careers and the challenges we would face.

Incidentally, Ectoplasm was no stranger to these challenges—while he didn’t reach All Might’s level, as a hero, he had once been in the country’s top ten. That was before he retired, having lost both legs. I knew for sure that, in his prime, aside from creating dozens of his own clones for small combat groups, he could merge them into a single giant version of himself, with destructive power on par with Mirko or Annihilation.

Finally, Midnight was listed among the faculty as an art teacher.

At the same time, she taught us the basics of presenting ourselves to the public, showing us the right and wrong ways to design a costume, including functionality, color schemes, good and bad associations, and demonstrating ways to launch fan merchandise, create our heroic persona, and develop a unique style that would become our trademark…

Crazy stuff.

By the way, we addressed the teachers by their hero names, no exceptions. The only one we called Aizawa-sensei was Eraserhead, but that seemed to be a privilege reserved exclusively for homeroom teachers.

As for Midnight, we had an absolutely fantastic (not) relationship. This sultry woman in her thirties, upon seeing me in class, immediately tried to charm and seduce the poor Niren Shoda—there was no other way to explain the vulgar poses and suggestive bends right next to my desk, showing off her ample chest.

But I wasn’t impressed. Not after five minutes. Not after ten either. Even when she switched to the "strict teacher in glasses" look straight out of adult videos, calling me to the board and smacking the poor chalkboard pointer with her whip, it had no effect. I just answered what she asked and then continued to stare, pretending to be clueless.

By that point, most of the students were red as boiled crayfish, and you could immediately tell who had unlimited internet access without parental controls. Midoriya was steaming and choking, Ochaco was fainting from embarrassment, Tenya was frantically wiping his perpetually foggy glasses, Yui was sitting pink-faced, lips pressed together… even Himiko had blushed, clenched her fists, and didn’t know where to look.

Only three others besides me—eternally angry Bakugo, perpetually aloof Todoroki, and quietly snoring Kyotaka at the back—maintained control over their hormonal balance. Though, Todoroki might have blushed too; it was hard to tell under his pigment spot.

Midnight started getting angry.

Apparently, students usually fall for her "charms."

The situation reached its peak when Nemuri Kayama, clearly displeased with my indifferent attitude toward her beauty—and I, for one, can’t stand being pressured or manipulated, and for another, I did genuinely feel indifferent toward her subject, knowing the future and understanding that most likely, all these wonderful things wouldn’t matter a year from now—approached me closely, grabbing at the sleeve of her costume.

I, being fully aware of her abilities and also a naturally nervous person with delicate mental organization, reacted purely on instinct.

The thing is, Midnight’s Quirk is the scent of her body, akin to extremely powerful pheromones. Not aphrodisiacs, though, but rather with a strong sedative effect, especially on men. To put it simply, if someone inhales the air near her exposed skin, they pass out immediately.

In the past, this peculiar beauty—who, by the way, was a U.A. graduate—wore an Eve-like costume as a hero, practically running around the streets almost naked. But when she became a teacher, they "reined in" the free-spirited horse, so the maturing boys wouldn’t burst right in class. As a result, her ability weakened, which was lucky for me—I doubt I would’ve had time to react if she had activated it without delay.

Anyway, I fell for her signature move—tugging at the edge of her costume, ripping off the specially designed, easy-to-tear bodysuit—and simply pinched my nose with my fingers, as if I were hiding from an unpleasant smell.

That caused half of the students, along with Nemuri herself, to freeze up.

I had to make a hasty retreat from class (luckily, the bell rang right at that moment), stifling laughter and shaking a finger at the giggling Setsuna, on whom Midnight’s feminine charms rolled off like water off a duck’s back.

Physics was taught by a hero unknown to me named Loader—a red-haired, anorexic-looking guy who moved around in an exoskeleton even inside the Academy. It turned out he was also in charge of the Development Studio for the entire Hero Support Department and was an incredibly talented engineer responsible for the robots in the entrance exam. For some reason, I got the feeling that the skinny guy didn’t like me, but all it took was a wide, sincere smile for me to realize it wasn’t just a feeling.

What can I say?

"¯\_(ツ)_/¯," I thought to myself, and let it go. As long as he doesn’t screw up my support gear and costume, I’ll be satisfied.

Hero Theory was taught by Snipe—despite his nickname, he looked more like a typical cowboy, only with a respirator. I hadn’t seen his face, but judging by his voice and demeanor, he was pretty young.

He taught us a bit of everything: how to save people, how to make stretchers from improvised materials, how to move injured people if there’s suspicion of head trauma, spinal injuries, or internal bleeding; how to provide first aid, how and where to check for a pulse, how to apply a tourniquet (Himiko licked her lips), how to disinfect and bandage wounds; what to do in case of burns, what to do during a fire, how to avoid carbon monoxide poisoning; what to do in a flood, how to resuscitate a drowning person, how to swim while keeping an unconscious person afloat; how to retreat in a fight, how to avoid getting caught in a trap, and how to plan escape routes in advance…

A lot. But some of it was interesting. And at times even useful.

Physical education was taught by a two-meter-tall, shaggy man nicknamed Hound Dog. He didn’t like me either. But at least he said so right off the bat: apparently, I hadn’t followed protocol during the entrance exam when I ran from one mock city to another, and as the head of disciplinary work, he didn’t like people like that.

"Don’t think that what you did was right! You had other tasks, you could have seriously injured yourself, and it’s our job as teachers to ensure your safety!" he growled. Literally—Reo Inui had a dog’s muzzle instead of a mouth. How could someone like that be anyone’s educator? I couldn’t understand.

Anyway, I promised him I wouldn’t do it again… unless circumstances forced me to.

He growled some more, then unexpectedly praised me for "saving" Yui and for standing my ground. Unpredictable guy.

***

A couple of days after classes started, I "very conveniently noticed" Midoriya’s notebook with his hero notes and suggested we exchange notebooks like that. Izuku got excited, thought about it, nodded, and the next day brought out about fifteen thick notebooks. I nodded too, didn’t think about it—no need—and brought out just as many, and then some more. Midoriya grabbed all my notes and immediately got lost in them, transported to some world inaccessible to others. I also flipped through his chronicles with interest and, funnily enough, found several new and useful facts for myself.

Meanwhile, the rest of the class, blown away by the two of us, officially dubbed Izuku Midoriya and Niren Shoda a pair of nerds, prompting identical snorts from Katsuki Bakugo and Yui Kodai.

It was also interesting to watch the interactions between Midoriya, Toga, and the girls. As I understand it, in the original timeline, even by the time All Might lost his powers, the guy hadn’t been spoiled by female attention, his only possible romantic connection being a dull, fluffy, and nearly platonic relationship with Ochaco.

However, in this reality, we sat next to each other, talked all the time, and since the girls gravitated around me—they also gravitated around Midoriya.

And, oh my god, you wouldn’t believe HOW MUCH good it did him!

In literally a week, the guy stopped blushing, shaking, and stumbling over every word: first just in general, then in the presence of girls, then when speaking to the girls, and finally—even around Himiko! If only his gaze would stop drifting to Setsuna’s chest every time… oh well, time heals. And Tokage maims, heh-heh. I think once they spar, the next time she gets close, the guy will probably just turn pale and brace for a block.

… I think it would be silly to deny that all three of the girls now hanging around me were quite attractive, each in her own way…

After that semi-naked and rather intimate, albeit not in the conventional sense, performance from Himiko in my room, I seemed to have… woken up.

And for the first time, I took a fresh look at the girls around me.

I realized, to my surprise, that both "Snow Queen" Yui Kodai and the whirlwind of positivity that was Setsuna Tokage were not the young girls I had seen as pupils to mentor, but fully developed, very attractive young women who genuinely enjoyed my company.

I realized, with amused wonder, that my neighbors on the floor were the incredibly striking, shy raven-black Momo and the predatory blonde Himiko, who seemed like someone’s fantasies come to life.

And suddenly, it hit me that here, at U.A., I was surrounded by dozens of other beautiful women. Genuinely beautiful—both in face and in toned physique—some of whom occasionally gave me interested looks…

Toga, for instance. Oh yeah, it’s dinner time…

In short, whether it was an adrenaline rush on that first day of school, or sheer surprise, or maybe those notorious hormones finally kicking in, or just the closeness with a beautiful and nearly naked girl playing a role… I don’t know what exactly triggered this shift in my perception—but I wasn’t particularly pleased with it.

In about a month, maybe even less, my "D-Day" was coming—the moment I’d been preparing for over the course of fifteen damn years… and I couldn’t afford distractions right now.

Definitely not now.

Speaking of which.

"Do you think it’s time?" I asked my reflection in the dark, having woken up for my morning run even earlier than usual on Saturday.

I had something to do, something that would take time… and a shovel. I had to finish before classes started, and especially before our first hero training session with All Might.

"Yeah, I think it’s time."

Illustrations:

The dormitory is just as chaotic as always :)

Here’s a layout of who lives where in the building as of Chapter Twelve.

Author’s Note:

No Quirk awakening, I trolled you all ;)

And yeah, I officially can't handle daily uploads anymore. The next public chapter will be up this Saturday.

Thank you for your support anyway.