Time passed quickly, and the day of the U.A. entrance exam finally dawned.
Kirishima stood at the front door in his school uniform.
There was no strict dress code, but in Japan it was generally understood that students wore uniforms while adults donned suits for formal events.
Although Kirishima disliked uniforms because they limited his movement, he still chose to follow society’s unspoken rules. After all, what he wore was hardly of any consequence.
"Eijiro, are you heading out now?"
"Yes. I’ll be back after I pass," he replied.
His mother greeted him with a bright smile. Knowing his considerable abilities even in a vague way, she wasn’t worried about him failing. It wouldn’t be entirely accurate to say she felt no anxiety as a parent, but she trusted her son implicitly; after all, he had been an extraordinary child from the start.
"Alright then. Take care, and don’t get too nervous."
"Of course. It would be embarrassing as your son if I even got nervous over an exam."
"And there you are, calling me 'Mom' again."
"Ah, sorry, Mom. I’m off."
With a reassuring smile, Kirishima bid her goodbye and left the house.
At the meeting place, Ashido was already waiting. Dressed in her school uniform as well, she greeted him with an energetic wave. Though he couldn’t understand why she always appeared so delighted to see him despite their daily meetings, Kirishima returned her smile.
"Eijiro! You’re early again today."
"Well, we can't be late. Besides, I got here early—when did you arrive?"
"Just a few minutes ago. Five, maybe?"
"I see. It’s chilly, so let’s not waste time."
"Okay!"
Had they been farther away, they might have reached Mustafu the day before and stayed overnight before heading to the exam site. Fortunately, the train journey from Chiba to Mustafu took less than two hours. Being considerate of applicants coming from distant areas, the schedule was relaxed enough that they decided to take the first train.
After boarding their reserved train, they sat side by side and chatted.
"Hehe. I’m a little nervous," Ashido admitted.
"Huh? Why would you be nervous? Is it the written test?"
They had both already completed the written exam earlier. Kirishima was comfortably within the passing range while Ashido had found herself teetering on the edge.
"No, that’s over now. Worrying about it won’t help. I just heard that the competition is 300 to 1 again this year, so I’m a bit anxious that the practical might be just as challenging."
"You worry too much. There’s no way you won’t pass—unless an examiner loses it and fails you for no reason, you’re in."
"Really? If you say so..."
Noticing a trace of unease in Ashido’s eyes, Kirishima let out a soft chuckle. Though lively and optimistic, she was still young. In Kirishima’s eyes, an entrance exam was hardly worth fretting over—this was true even for someone like Ashido.
While much of his earlier memory had faded, he clearly recalled the practical exam. It was a test of robot demolition, and knowing Ashido’s Quirk—where she had to be careful not to inflict excessive damage on people—he was sure she would enjoy it.
"At the very least, I know you’d pass even if your score were cut in half. The person I trained wouldn’t fail a high school entrance practical," Kirishima remarked confidently.
"Really? If Eijiro says so, then I guess I’ll be fine."
"You, me, and Bakugo are definitely in the safe zone. Midoriya… well, I’m not so sure about him."
"Oh, is Midoriya still having trouble controlling it?"
"Yeah. I get it—he suddenly got a Quirk, and its output is terrifying. It’s about on my level, so of course it wouldn’t be easy for him to handle."
Unlike the original story, Midoriya had acquired One For All much sooner, yet he still struggled with its control. Kirishima wished he could help, but advising him on mastering such an unpredictable power was easier said than done. It was like handing wings to someone who had never flown and expecting him to know exactly how to flap them.
"Even then, that idiot is still so slow… Though when inspiration strikes, he tends to grow quickly. Still, at his core, he treats his Quirk like it’s just some flashy finishing move."
"Ahaha. What can you do? Midoriya has had his Quirk for less than a year."
"True enough. Still too slow—and he learned from me, of all people. Tch."
Kirishima couldn’t really teach someone the feel for using a Quirk, though he had shown him how to move his body efficiently. In his previous life, Midoriya might have been comparable to a mediocre third-rate athlete in terms of physical control. Seeing him still struggle to adjust his power was infuriating. Though neither All Might nor Midoriya was as destructive as before—rumor had it that they no longer shattered limbs with every activation—Kirishima still found the lack of finesse unacceptable.
"Tch. He’ll figure it out on his own. He may be a bit immature and naive, but his combat instinct isn’t bad."
"You really do worry about him, huh? Eijiro, you can be surprisingly kind." This comment drew a playful retort.
"I’ve known him since he was five. It’d be strange not to worry. Do I always seem so cold-blooded?"
"Not at all. No one has a hotter heart than Eijiro. Even when you act all calm, that passion shows—that’s what I admire!"
For a moment, Kirishima contemplated detaching Ashido from his side, but with the exam nearly upon them, he let her be.
Soon, the train pulled into Mustafu. The two of them disembarked and headed toward U.A. along a route they had traveled before. In front of the imposing U.A. building—big enough to seem more than just a high school—they waited for Midoriya and Bakugo.
Surrounded by busts of past U.A. heroes, they found their designated area. After a short wait, two familiar figures appeared.
"Why the hell do I have to go with you? Damn Deku," Bakugo grumbled.
"Because Kirishima-chan called for the four of us—me, you, and Kacchan," Midoriya shot back in his characteristically cheeky tone. The bickering made Kirishima smile softly; some things never changed—even if they grew older, these two idiots would likely remain the same.
"Since you're here, at least say hello. Why are you always fighting?"
"Exactly. Stop picking on Midoriya already, Bakugo."
"I'm picking on Deku? Are you blind, you black-eyed bastard?"
"I can see just fine, which is why I'm saying it."
"Hah! Kacchan’s always grumbling, isn’t he? Though I must say, he’s gotten a lot nicer."
"Nice? Have all the good guys died off? You call him nice?"
"Ugh! I’m the idiot for even talking with you lot! I’m off—go have fun without me!"
"Yeah, we’ve seen your face; that’s enough. You don’t even look nervous. Do your best on the exam."
Bakugo scowled, waved a dismissive hand, and stormed off. Smirking at Bakugo’s typical behavior, Kirishima was about to lead the others inside when he said,
"Let's go. No need to dawdle here—after the exam, let's grab some food together."
"Yeah! It’s been half a year since I saw Midoriya and Bakugo, so we definitely need to eat. Since I’m the guest, Midoriya’s buying, right?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Let’s get inside! We need to take our first step as heroes properly."
Midoriya, flustered by Ashido’s words, quickly joined in and strode forward. Ever the clumsy one, he nearly tripped over his own feet, but a passing girl reached out at just the right moment, preventing his fall.
As Kirishima, still holding onto Midoriya’s floating arm, glanced at her, she beamed brightly. "That’s my Quirk. Sorry for not warning you, but if you fall it would just be bad luck. Do you think I overstepped?"
"No, it’s better than letting you take a spill," Kirishima replied.
"Really? Thanks for saying that. Are you nervous?"
"Uh, yeah, I guess..."
"Then let’s both do our best."
The girl with the warm, round face offered a few encouraging words to a stammering Midoriya before moving ahead.
Kirishima sighed as he watched the hopeless guy who still had no clue about girls. He wondered when that idiot would ever grow into someone reliable. Yet even with all his goofiness, when it came time to fight, Midoriya unleashed a blazing heroic side that made him undeniably a protagonist.
"Did you fall for her?"
"Huh? Ah, no!"
"If not, then why are you stuttering? Tch, we’re going to be late. Let’s move!"
"Huh? Is Midoriya’s first love about to hit him right in the heart?"
"Gah, no!"
Kirishima and Ashido ribbed Midoriya playfully as they entered the large auditorium where exam instructions were being given.
The auditorium, arranged in a circular pattern around a central stage, had seats designated by school affiliation. Kirishima and Ashido found their spots after spotting Midoriya sitting beside the already-arrived Bakugo.
Soon, the room dimmed, and a man with a bold hairstyle and beard—almost as if they should be torn off by hand—stepped onto the stage wearing sunglasses.
"Examinee listeners! Welcome to my live show today! Everybody, say hey!"
As expected, no one answered.
Undeterred by the silence, he carried on with unabashed confidence.
"How lonely, right? Then let me present the outline of the practical exam for all you examinee listeners! Are you ready? Yeah!"
Watching the overly energetic man, Kirishima narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t a fan of all the raucous noise, though Ashido seemed to find the performance amusing.
"According to the exam guidelines, the listeners will participate in a ten-minute mock urban combat test. Personal belongings are allowed! After this presentation, proceed to your designated test sites!"
Kirishima checked the test site assigned to him—it was different from the one Ashido had received.
"Looks like they don’t want students from the same school working together."
"Yeah, they’re probably just assessing individual capability. More importantly, let’s keep quiet."
"Okay."
After responding quietly to Ashido’s whisper, the man continued,
"There are three types of mock Villains deployed in the test areas, with points awarded according to how difficult it is to neutralize each one. The exam is to tally points by using your Quirk to incapacitate these mock Villains! Of course, anti-hero actions like attacking others are strictly prohibited, okay?"
"May I ask a question?"
No sooner had he finished speaking than a hand shot up. Kirishima’s eyes narrowed as he recognized the distinctly square-faced boy. He remembered him well.
"The handout lists four types of Villains! If that’s an error, it would be downright shameful for U.A.—Japan’s finest—to have such sloppy conduct! We examinees are here to learn from exemplary heroes! And you, curly-haired kid, have been whispering and distracting everyone since the start! If you’re just a tourist, then leave immediately!"
"I’m sorry..."
The square-faced boy, speaking in a stiff, precise tone, pointed out the omission in the speaker’s announcement. Then he glared at Midoriya and Bakugo, who had been bickering loudly enough for everyone to hear, before briefly glancing at Ashido and Kirishima, and finally turning back.
Kirishima snorted. He recalled that this kid was likely pretty strong—though he certainly couldn’t be compared to the current Kirishima.
As he watched Midoriya shrink into himself and answer meekly, Kirishima clicked his tongue. Bakugo had progressed to the point of casually teasing others, yet that idiot still lacked true confidence.
"Alright! Alright! Examinee number 7111, thanks for the info! The fourth Villain is worth zero points—it’s basically just a nuisance, one per venue, meant to create a cramped, chaotic distraction! I’d advise you to steer clear of it if possible!"
"Thank you! Excuse me!"
The square-faced boy bowed rigidly at a perfect right angle before returning to his seat.
"That’s all from me! Lastly, let me recite our school motto for you listeners! As the great hero Napoleon Bonaparte once said: A true hero is someone who overcomes life's hardships, always striving for a greater horizon! PLUS ULTRA!"
Kirishima snorted at the proclamation, muttering, "So what happened to Napoleon in the end? What a poor example."
"Huh? Eijiro, what was that?"
"Nothing," he replied dismissively, lost in thought about heroes who grew great only to fail in dying gloriously. Ashido’s question went unanswered as the presentation ended.
After the session, Kirishima changed clothes, parted ways with Ashido, and headed for his designated test site. The grounds were so vast that he had to catch a bus.
Clad in comfortable training attire, he mingled briefly with the other examinees until an announcement boomed over the speakers.
"Now, start!"
Immediately, Kirishima sprang into action. His enhanced field of vision—now extending a full fifty meters—captured every detail around him.
"What’s the matter? In a real battle there’s no countdown! Run! Run!"
Hearing the delayed scramble of fellow examinees, he increased his pace. Leaving behind faint afterimages, he barreled through and demolished the robot assigned as a villain target with impressive speed.
"Tch. Too weak, as expected," he muttered quietly as he watched a robot shatter and fly apart from a single, powerful blow. The level of opposition was far too low—by the look of it, he could easily secure a monopoly of points even with his eyes closed.
In under three minutes, Kirishima had accumulated over a hundred points, so he eased his tempo. While he couldn’t tell exactly how many robots were in play, the situation appeared safe enough.
Casually strolling along streets designed to mimic an urban battleground, he kept smashing any robot that charged at him. Then, with a thunderous roar, a giant robot emerged from atop a building, its massive form revealing itself as fragments flew in every direction.
Among the debris were shards hurtling toward a girl—one with bright green, vine-like hair who had just taken down a robot. She hadn’t even had time to react.
Spotting a large chunk the size of an average person’s upper body, Kirishima instantly shifted his focus. Beyond the clouds of shattered concrete, the girl finally turned, and her eyes met his.
"Hmm. Incoming? Good morning," she said with a playful grin.
With a smile, Kirishima directed his gaze toward the giant robot and remarked calmly. Even as its eyes glowed ominously, he remained unruffled.
Gazing at the broad, sturdy back of the behemoth as it shielded her from danger, the girl thought only one thing:
He looked like a god.
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