Setsuna Tokage — 18.4 seconds
Momo Yaoyorozu — 19.1 seconds
From the observation deck, Present Mic slammed his hands onto the console, his voice exploding through the room.
"She slingshotted herself over an entire pit zone! That's pure genius!"
Aizawa didn't flinch at the outburst, his scarf shifting slightly as he studied the replay.
"Calculated trajectory. Midair correction. Perfect landing," he said calmly. "She used the grappling cable's parabolic arc and jet-assisted thrust to amplify her velocity while controlling re-entry. That's an incredible grasp of physics."
Present Mic blinked at him, then grinned. "Translation: she's scary smart."
Up in the stands, Ayaka smirked softly.
"She plans the entire course before her second breath," she murmured. "She makes it look effortless."
Izumi chuckled quietly beside her, eyes fixed on Momo as she straightened her uniform and exhaled.
"That's what makes her dangerous," he said, his voice carrying a note of quiet respect.
Watching her calm, confident smile on the big screen, he couldn't help the thought that crossed his mind —
'She's grown far beyond her canon counterpart.'
Back at the finish line, the rest of the students finally began to arrive one by one — breathless, wide-eyed, and visibly impressed.
Tokage touched down beside Momo, reassembling midair before landing with a heavy thud. She turned toward Momo, hands on her hips and a feral grin on her face.
"Not bad! Thought I'd lose you back there!"
Momo smiled softly, her breathing steady and composed.
"You were incredible," she replied. "But it was… manageable."
Tokage let out a short laugh.
"You just built half a support course in under twenty seconds. That's not normal."
Momo tilted her head slightly, the faintest glimmer of amusement in her eyes.
"Normal's overrated."
Looking at the two students conversing near the finish line, Present Mic leaned toward his microphone, grinning wide.
"Man, these two were wild! One's a flying puzzle; the other's a walking lab!"
Aizawa's eyes flicked between the replay feeds, his tone even but faintly impressed.
"Yaoyorozu calculated the optimal route before entering each zone. Her speed wasn't from raw power; it came from continuous analysis. She adjusted on the fly, used her creation effectively, and never lost focus."
Present Mic laughed. "So, you're saying she out-thought the course itself?"
"Exactly," Aizawa replied, his gaze drifting to the rest of the field. "And Tokage adapted well under chaos. She compensated for her quirk's instability with quick recovery and sharp reflexes. The others did their best too, solid fundamentals, but not the same level of adaptability."
Below, Momo and Tokage exited the track side by side, both smiling in quiet mutual respect. Behind them, the remaining students followed, a mix of exhaustion and awe visible on their faces as they made their way toward the stands.
Tokage exhaled deeply, hands on her hips, still grinning from ear to ear.
"You know, Yaoyorozu, if we ever end up in the same agency someday, I'd totally let you handle the planning."
Momo clasped her hands behind her back, her conduit dissolving into soft, fading motes that obserbed into her skin. "I wouldn't mind that," she replied warmly. "As long as you promise not to charge ahead before the plan's finished."
Tokage laughed, stretching her shoulders as she walked off toward the exit gate.
"Guess we both did our best, huh?"
Momo nodded once — composed, but the faintest warmth glimmered in her eyes.
"We did."
They shared a brief smile before parting ways.
As Momo climbed the steps to the observation stands, Izumi leaned forward on the railing. Her hair was slightly tousled from wind resistance, her uniform marked with faint streaks of soot, but her posture was still flawless — head high, movements calm and deliberate.
Ayaka rose to greet her, smiling.
"You were brilliant," she said softly. "You've been practicing your conduit control, haven't you?"
Momo brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and nodded modestly.
"Yes. Your spatial theory notes helped me refine the Nano Forge stabilization process. I can generate smaller constructs faster now."
Izumi chuckled, tilting his head.
"You say that like you didn't build an EMP mid-flight."
Momo's cheeks coloured faintly, her expression softening.
"That was… a last-minute idea. I realized I could repurpose the emitter's polarity frequency just before I deployed it."
Ayaka folded her arms thoughtfully.
"You didn't rely on your quirk alone," she said. "You used prediction, control, and adaptability. That's what separates a good hero from a great one."
Momo smiled faintly, her voice carrying quiet pride.
"I learned from the best examples."
Ayaka grinned the moment she heard it, rubbing the back of her head with a shameless laugh.
"Well, of course you did," she said, absolutely unapologetic.
Izumi elbowed her lightly, smirking. "She is talking about me idiot."
"Too late, I claimed the compliment" Ayaka shot back with a grin.
The twins began bickering among them as Momo watched the two with a quiet smile.
The next group of examinees began assembling below.
On the field, automated drones reset the course — replacing broken obstacles, clearing debris, and recalibrating the magnetic zones. The air was alive again with tension and anticipation.
Aizawa's voice echoed calmly across the stadium.
"Batch Eight, prepare at the starting line."
Momo leaned against the railing beside Izumi, her eyes tracking the next group.
"It's strange," she murmured. "Watching now feels more nerve-wracking than running."
Izumi smiled faintly, gaze fixed on the course.
"That's because you can't predict what they'll do next."
Ayaka tilted her head toward Momo, her tone light but teasing.
"So… who's your bet this round?"
Momo's eyes flicked toward the next lineup, her expression thoughtful.
"No idea," she said finally, a small smile playing on her lips. "But if they're anything like the last few batches…" — her gaze lingered on the field — "this year's class will be something special."
***
The sun had dipped low, casting long shadows over the nearly empty training field. The wind had calmed — a rare stillness for Inasa Yoarashi, who stood near the gates with his hands clenched at his sides.
Footsteps approached from behind.
"You wanted to speak with me?"
Aizawa's voice was calm, even, as always.
Inasa turned, trying to smile but failing.
"Yeah. About my application. I… I don't think I'll be attending U.A."
Aizawa studied him quietly for a few seconds.
"You performed well. Better than most applicants I've seen. Mind telling me why?"
Inasa looked toward the field, eyes shadowed.
"Todoroki. It's him. When I saw his eyes during the race… it was the same look I saw years ago. The same as Endeavor's. Cold. Angry. The kind that looks through people, not at them."
He laughed once, short and hollow.
"I couldn't focus. Not properly. And I realized, I can't study at the same place as someone who looks at others like that. Not again."
Aizawa's gaze softened slightly, though his tone stayed steady.
"You're basing your decision on emotion. That's not very heroic."
"Maybe," Inasa admitted. "But heroes aren't supposed to carry hatred in their eyes. I'd rather train somewhere I can keep my focus, not spend every day feeling like I'm fighting ghosts from the past."
There was a moment of silence, broken only by the sound of wind rustling the hero banners.
Aizawa finally nodded.
"You're free to make that choice. But remember, running away from what unsettles you doesn't erase it. One day, you'll have to face that kind of person again."
Inasa smiled faintly, bowing deeply.
"Maybe then, I'll be strong enough to handle it. But for now… please withdraw my application."
Aizawa exhaled quietly, pulling out a tablet and typing in a few commands.
"It's done. Good luck, Yoarashi."
"Thank you, sir."
As Aizawa turned to leave, Inasa looked up at the sky — calm, open, and endless.
"Still," he murmured to himself, "with students like Izumi, Ayaka, Yaoyorozu, and others here… It's a shame I can't attend U.A."
***
The lights in the U.A. recording room dimmed as the final exam data finished compiling.
Dozens of screens flickered to life, displaying highlights from the day's recommendation exams — Izumi's lightning run splitting the air, Ayaka's seamless spatial folds, Todoroki's expanding ice barrage, Inasa's roaring wind bursts, Yaoyorozu's calm strategic creations, Tokage's disassembly agility, and Honenuki's precise terrain control.
Present Mic leaned back in his chair, grinning from ear to ear.
"Now that was a show! Every one of them could headline a hero agency by graduation! Especially those Adachi twins, blink once and you miss them!"
Aizawa stood with arms folded, eyes half-lidded but focused on the playback.
"Raw talent is one thing," he said evenly. "Control and temperament are another."
He rewound Izumi's footage, pausing on the exact frame where the lightning trail tore through the air like a blade.
"Izumi's speed is terrifying. But it's not random, every step was pre-calculated. That kind of precision doesn't come from instinct alone."
Principal Nezu, seated on his elevated platform, chuckled softly, paws folded neatly over the console.
"Quite right, Eraser. His synchronization between quirk output and bodily reaction time is exceptional. But more remarkable than that… is his restraint. Most with that kind of raw power would show off. He didn't."
All Might — in his deflated form — stood nearby, his hands resting on his hips as he watched the replay with quiet admiration.
"Indeed," he said, voice calm but carrying weight. "That level of discipline at his age is rare. Reminds me of a few pros who never had to shout to command respect."
Present Mic let out a laugh.
"Yeah, calm geniuses all around! And his sister's no slouch either, that Ayaka girl didn't even blink when her brother broke the sound barrier. She just smirked like she expected it."
Aizawa exhaled slowly.
"She probably did. Her control's subtle, but her awareness is exceptional. That kind of spatial precision takes both intellect and instinct."
All Might smiled faintly, nostalgia softening his expression.
"It seems Jin and Aoi have been blessed with wonderful children. I remember visiting Jin after he lost his quirk… Young Izumi was already far too mature for his age. Looks like that hasn't changed."
Midnight, dressed casually and leaning against the wall with her arms folded, gave a half-smile.
"Maturity like that can shape a great hero — or crush one if the pressure builds too fast. Still, we need more students like him. The world needs their kind of potential."
Nezu tilted his head, whiskers twitching thoughtfully.
"Between them, Yaoyorozu's analytical brilliance, Todoroki's dual-element power, Tokage's unpredictable versatility, and Honenuki's adaptability… this year's recommendation batch may be one of U.A.'s strongest in decades."
All Might nodded, his tone both proud and serious.
"Then they'll need the kind of guidance only this school can offer. They already have power. What they'll need… is heart. The heart to go beyond — Plus Ultra Style"
Aizawa gave a slow nod, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"It's a shame about Yoarashi Inasa. He had the potential to become a top-rank pro."
Present Mic sighed, scratching the back of his head.
"Yeah, and that kid Todoroki — he's got his old man's power and his temper. If he picks up Endeavor's outlook too, we might have some fireworks before long."
Nezu chuckled, his voice carrying that familiar mix of warmth and mischief.
"Ah, but conflict often shapes greatness, doesn't it? The question is, who among them will learn to bend before they break?"
All Might nodded gravely.
"I agree, Principal Nezu. But that potential can vanish if they hit an insurmountable wall — and lack the will to climb over it… or the strength to stand tall after falling."
As his words faded, everyone's attention turned toward the largest monitor.
The image frozen on the screen showed Izumi Adachi standing at the finish line, lightning still coursing through him as dust and debris swirled around.
A quiet moment passed. Then Midnight clapped her hands, breaking the tension.
"Well, let's hope All Might's right about that one. I expect him to have the sense to show restraint when it matters."
Present Mic chuckled, his tone light again.
"And hey — don't forget, these were just the recommendation students. The real party starts when the entrance exam begins!"
Snipe tipped his hat with a low whistle.
"The entrance exam never fails to surprise us. Always a wild card or two."
All Might straightened slightly, smiling with renewed confidence.
"Right you are, Snipe. I have a feeling we'll see more students with incredible potential this year."
Aizawa tugged his scarf higher, muttering almost to himself,
"This might just be the most interesting year yet."
"WHAT WAS THAT, AIZAWA?!"
All Might's booming voice filled the room, nearly shaking the monitors.
Aizawa winced, deadpan.
"You have way too much energy for a skeleton, All Might."
The room burst into laughter — a brief, welcome break from the tension.
And as the laughter faded, the monitors continued looping the final frame —
Izumi Adachi standing amidst the lightning and dust, a storm contained within human form.