Bakugo’s mouth twitched.
He couldn’t make sense of it.
The fact that a Quirk which should have manifested by the age of four only awakened last year—and that it turned out to be so devastatingly powerful—was baffling.
When he first heard that the boy had finally acquired a Quirk, he had privately thought, “What’s the point of it now?”
Yet watching him in action, the raw intensity of his power was nothing short of shocking.
He longed to ask exactly what was going on, but held his tongue.
After all, he could ask later. Besides, after witnessing something so absurd from someone like Midoriya, there was really no point in fussing over it now.
In the subsequent tests, Midoriya’s scores fell compared to his earlier performance, seemingly due to the pain that made it hard for him to focus.
Still, he managed to secure a middle-ranking result, and with a relaxed expression he watched Aizawa among the other students.
"Then I’ll announce the results immediately. The total score is simply the sum of each event’s points. Explaining every detail would be a waste of time, so I’ll reveal everything at once."
The boy with the distinctive features trembled at Aizawa’s announcement.
With sharp eyes, a neatly curled mane framing his neck, curled eyebrows and mustache, and vivid red hair that instantly caught the eye, he was an impressive sight.
His Quirk wasn’t even utilizable under test conditions, so he had taken the exam almost as if he were Quirkless.
Seeing his small, trembling frame, Kirishima placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"Huh? Who are you? The top scorer?"
"Well, everything will work out. Don’t be so nervous."
Though his words had no basis in fact, the confident tone of the boy—who looked at least fifty centimeters taller—somehow made them hard to dismiss.
As he emerged from his [Demon Form] and returned to his handsome self, the boy nodded in acknowledgment.
He was determined to become a Hero, no matter what.
Failure was not an option—not when so many back home had placed their hopes in him.
He silently berated himself for not having made friends sooner before the test.
His Quirk, a heteromorphic ability known as Shishi—a stone-lion form—granted him unique benefits: when he kept his mouth closed, his body hardened and grew more resilient, and when he opened it, he could share his Quirk with others.
Because this sharing wasn’t enforced, both sides had to consent, but it still proved to be an incredibly versatile power in many situations.
Unfortunately, during the test it had shown no effect at all.
The device in Aizawa’s hand projected everyone’s scores into midair.
As expected, Kirishima was first, while the twentieth spot belonged to someone whose name he didn’t even recognize.
When the small boy squinted his eyes shut, Aizawa continued,
"Also, the threat of expulsion was a lie."
Everyone, except for Kirishima, Bakugo, and the girl with the striking ponytail, widened their eyes in surprise.
Undeterred, Aizawa grinned and added,
"Consider it a calculated fib meant to draw out your best effort."
"That kind of thing is obviously a lie. Anyone with half a mind would know that."
Amid the stunned silence, the ponytailed girl muttered an awkward comment.
Kirishima nodded in agreement.
'Well, that’s true enough. I bet he really was planning to cut people out…'
"That’s all. There are curriculum documents in the classroom—study them when you get back. Midoriya, get some treatment in the infirmary. Starting tomorrow, tougher challenges will come your way, so be prepared."
Aizawa handed Midoriya a form for using the infirmary before walking away.
Kirishima couldn’t help but smile at how Aizawa had already prepared the paperwork in advance.
For all his gruffness, it was clear he did care about his students.
Even with his reduced field of vision compared to his [Demon Form], Kirishima could still sense a presence lurking in the alley that Aizawa was headed toward.
If there wasn’t another staff member standing 220 centimeters tall, it could only be All Might.
Rumor had it that he had expelled an entire class last year, so Kirishima had mentally shrunk his observational range to a five-meter radius.
Not that the conversation was particularly important—nor did he really want to eavesdrop. Expanding his normal field of vision was too taxing on his brain.
After a brief, relieved pause, Kirishima turned to the red-haired boy, whose expression had grown somber, and said,
"See? It all worked out, didn’t it?"
"Maybe so, but I really ended up at the bottom. I’ve got a lot to learn and train for. Oh, and thanks for the encouragement. By the way, what’s your name? I’m Shou Naoya."
"I’m Kirishima Eijiro. You’ve probably heard my surname already."
After a brief glance toward Midoriya heading for the infirmary, Kirishima headed with Shou to the changing room.
Earlier, he had been the first to arrive and the first to leave, so while the others had trickled in as he headed out, now everyone changed together.
Among them, a blond boy couldn’t help but shout as he eyed Kirishima’s physique,
"Whoa! That body is insane! What, like, ten percent body fat?"
"It usually hovers around ten percent," came the reply.
"Damn, I train hard too, but I can’t even dream of that."
"Seriously impressive..."
Leaving the children’s admiration behind, Kirishima casually dressed.
"Anyone can build a body like this, if they train hard enough."
"Tch, you show-off. I might be able to keep my body fat that low, but there’s no way I can get legs as long as yours, shoulders that broad, and such a small head."
"Hey, your proportions aren’t bad either—so why complain?"
After a back-and-forth that resembled a lighthearted comedy routine, Kirishima exchanged greetings with the other students.
Some faces he remembered, others not so much, and for the most part, their names escaped him.
Determined not to forget, he resolved to commit everyone’s name to memory.
"By the way, aren’t all the girls in our class pretty? Well, except for that one who seems so transparent—you can’t even tell much about her..."
"I agree. I think so too," came the reply.
As the group noisily made their way back to the classroom, the topic of the girls surfaced.
The blond boy Kaminari and the lion-hearted Shou led the conversation, though others occasionally chimed in.
Meanwhile, Kirishima, barely sparing a thought for anyone else, went over to Ojiro—whom he hadn’t properly greeted earlier—and draped an arm around his shoulder.
"Yo. Tailman."
"I told you not to call me Tailman. Anyway, long time no see?"
"Right? What have you been up to? Not staying in touch at all?"
"You make it sound like I’m the only one who didn’t reach out. You didn’t contact me either."
"Well, I was busy. I’ve been working on my [Demon Form] and all that."
"But you kept in touch with Yui just fine. And what was that earlier? [Demon Form]? That’s a great name. With how it looks and the power behind it, it didn’t seem human at all."
"What else would it be? It’s all part of the journey to becoming the strongest."
Having said that, Kirishima burst into hearty laughter.
Ojiro could only snort in response as he watched him.
Even though what he’d seen last year was already beyond imagination, now Kirishima seemed almost superhuman.
Perhaps it was because he’d been shocked before that he could now accept it with a calm demeanor.
After arriving at the classroom, they joined in conversation with the other students.
As introductions were made and various discussions unfolded, the girls eventually returned.
Ashido, who had been chattering among the others, spotted Kirishima and rushed over.
She practically collided with him, stretching out her arms to grab his cheeks while grumbling,
"Eijiro! What was that all about? You didn’t even tell me you had something like that."
"I told you—I developed a new technique."
"You didn’t mention it was that insanely powerful!"
"Well, it was my first time using it, and you saw it yourself. That technique isn’t really meant for just any place, inside or outside."
"Huh, that’s true."
"If I used it in a forest or on a mountain, people would freak out and come running. That’s why I’ve never used it in public before."
"I see. You sounded so confident about it that I assumed it was amazing—but I never imagined it would be such a wild technique."
"Is that so."
"Hey, from what I’ve been hearing, you two must be close. Middle school classmates?"
A girl, barely more than a fluttering school uniform in the breeze, joined the conversation between Ashido and Kirishima.
You could tell she was female from the way her uniform flowed.
Though Kirishima could easily size her up from his peripheral vision, he chose not to comment.
"Middle school classmates? Sort of, but I’ve known Eijiro since we were three years old."
"So you entered U.A. together as childhood friends? That’s kind of romantic."
At her admiring words, Ashido laughed and playfully bopped Kirishima’s arm.
He wasn’t sure why she was hitting him, but he let it pass.
It didn’t hurt much, and experience had taught him that sometimes it was best to just let things be.
"Heehee. Is that so? While Eijiro seemed calm and confident, I was pretty nervous. Still, I’m glad we both made it in."
"And what about Midoriya—the one with the explosions?"
"Bakugo? I’ve known him since we were little too, though Eijiro was closer with him than I was."
Thanks to Ashido’s intervention, the other girls soon joined the conversation.
Kirishima made an effort to memorize the girls’ names as well, even if there were fewer of them compared to the boys.
Amid the lively chatter, a girl introducing herself as Yaoyorozu Momo approached Kirishima and asked,
"Kirishima, was that transformed state earlier the activation of your Quirk?"
Her eyes sparkled with curiosity over the form he had just displayed.
Not one to hide details, Kirishima replied,
"Yes, I activated my Quirk, but that wasn’t the intrinsic effect. My Quirk is [Hardening]—it toughens my body and boosts my physical power."
He lifted his arm, now slightly hardened from a brief activation, as he continued,
"The technique I used earlier is called [Demon Form], developed as an extension of [Hardening]. In essence, it’s just a more refined and rational way of hardening my body."
"Do you really think being more refined can make such a difference?"
"It’s complicated to explain in full, so I kept it simple. If you want the full details behind [Demon Form], we’d be here for ages. Let’s talk later when we have more time—in any case, feel free to chat with me casually."
"Understood. I look forward to it. And honestly, speaking this way is much more comfortable for me."
Hearing that, Yaoyorozu stepped back, clearly satisfied.
The students continued their varied conversations until, just as Kirishima began to worry about Midoriya taking too long, Aizawa reappeared to signal the end of the session.
Since Kirishima had something on his mind, he trailed alongside Aizawa as they left the classroom.
"Teacher, may I ask something?"
"Yes, what is it?"
"Is there someplace we can train after class?"
"Of course there is. Every U.A. student is welcome there."
"Hmm, like a gym?"
"Exactly. That’s where you should practice."
"I need to adapt to the technique I used earlier—its range is so vast that today was the first time I really used it properly. Is there a place suited to that?"
Aizawa studied the considerably taller Kirishima— tall even by Japanese standards. Although he’d been teaching for years, this was only the second time on the very first day of school that a student had asked about a special training space.
It was clear that this boy’s strength wasn’t just a natural gift; he had become strong through blood, sweat, and relentless effort.
"There is a facility for testing and developing new techniques, though you’ll need permission to use it. I’ll give you the application form now. Follow me."
"Yes, sir."
Following Aizawa to the staff room, Kirishima received the application form for the special training area and returned.
By then, most of the students had already headed home.
Only Midoriya, busy packing his bag, and Ashido, who had been waiting for him, remained in the classroom.
Kirishima quickly slung his bag over his shoulder and left with them.
As they walked toward the school gate, someone grabbed Midoriya’s shoulder.
It was Iida, who hadn’t made a stellar first impression on Midoriya.
"Iida!"
"Have your fingers healed?"
"Yeah, thanks to Recovery Girl."
Midoriya replied, recalling Recovery Girl’s words.
Though she had healed his injuries in an instant, it had clearly taken a toll on him.
Remembering that repeated major injuries could drain his energy to a fatal degree, he was struck by just how crucial it was to master his Quirk’s control.
"But Aizawa got me. I thought this was the peak—he actually lied. I can’t believe a teacher would do that."
'Iida, I always thought you were tough, but you’re just earnest.'
"Wait a second!"
Just as Iida began speaking earnestly and Midoriya was piecing together something new about him, a girl’s voice sounded from behind.
It was Uraraka, who had been chatting earlier, now running toward them.
"Uraraka!"
"So her name is Uraraka…"
"Huh? Why are you so late, Uraraka?"
Kirishima swallowed the words he’d been about to say as he watched the sudden flurry of her arrival.
If she even called his name, he felt his head might start spinning.
"You four are heading to the station? Let’s go together."
She hurried over, positioned herself in front of everyone, and introduced herself.
She had been in the infirmary when the class was exchanging names, so Midoriya—who hadn’t heard her name yet—prompted her to speak,
"I’m Uraraka Ochaco! I heard Iida’s name earlier, but Midoriya, this is your first time hearing my name, right? Your name is Midoriya… Deku?"
"Deku?!"
Kirishima snorted as he watched Midoriya react to her words.
Ashido laughed outright.
Amused by their reactions, Uraraka said with an innocent smile, "But that Bakugo guy was the one calling you Deku! Hey, you!"
"W-well, my real name is Izuku. 'Deku' is what Kacchan uses when he’s looking down on me."
"Is that supposed to be an insult?"
At Iida’s matter-of-fact query, Midoriya offered a rueful smile and replied,
"It used to be. Now I just see it as a crude nickname from a rival."
"Ah, I see. Sorry! But for some reason, Deku sounds encouraging to me."
"I’m Deku!"
At Uraraka’s exclamation, Midoriya immediately confirmed he was "Deku," prompting Kirishima to click his tongue while Ashido burst into laughter.
Only Iida offered a measured objection.
"Midoriya! That’s too shallow—it’s a slur, isn’t it!"
Flustered, Midoriya covered his reddening face with both hands and muttered, "Copernican revolution..."
"Coper…?"
Watching Uraraka tilt her head in confusion as she repeated, "Coper?" Kirishima suddenly began to doubt Midoriya even more.
After all, the protagonist of this world was a sixteen-year-old who still fumbled around with girls.
'At this rate, am I really going to end up having to take down everyone and single-handedly protect Japan?'
Imagining a scenario he desperately wished to avoid, Kirishima clenched his teeth.
He had no intention of living his life like All Might—sacrificing everything to protect everyone.
Kirishima’s goal was to take down the strong one by one and become the strongest himself, not to risk his life saving every single person.
That sort of nobility belonged only to a hero in the stories.
With a cold smile, Kirishima resolved to toughen up Midoriya.
He began conjuring all sorts of plans to mold him into the kind of man who belonged at the center of an epic tale.
That day, the hourglass turning Midoriya’s gates of hell was irrevocably flipped.
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