Itami hadn't really slept in days.
Every time his head hit the pillow, the void clawed him back in. Snow. Smoke. Whispers. The Doppler's bloodstained hand. Aika's voice, faint and distant, like a warning echoing across time. Waking up in a cold sweat every morning.
He trained anyway. Sparred with Kael and Riven. Sat through class. Went through the motions with a blank expression and bags under his eyes slowly appeared as it was the morning of the Third Day of Written exam.
Itami slowly shuffled to his class, fatigue and lack of sleep deprived him of emotions. Numb.
Itami manage to finish the written exam in time as Aizawa called for the end of the test.
Aizawa's voice cut through the quiet hum of scratching pencils.
"That's time. Pass your papers to the front."
Chairs shifted. Paper rustled. A collective exhale moved through the class like a wave.
"Finally over…" Kaminari groaned, letting his head hit the desk with a dull thud. "I thought my brain was gonna melt. But I didn't leave anything blank at least!"
Mina stretched both arms above her head. "I think I actually passed this time. Thank you for the study lessons Yaoyorozu!"
Itami sat still, his paper already stacked neatly on top of the others being passed forward. He didn't speak. He hadn't spoken much at all lately.
Aizawa continued, pulling their attention back. "Next: the practical exam. Get your costumes from the shelves. Be at the bus area in twenty minutes. Move."
The shelves lining the wall slid open with a metallic click. Suitcases and labeled compartments emerged, each holding their respective hero costumes.
The class got up, buzzing with nerves and anticipation.
Itami moved on autopilot, retrieving his costume in silence and following the stream of boys heading toward the locker rooms.
Inside the locker room, voices bounced off the tiled walls.
"Gotta admit, I'm pumped now," Kirishima grinned, pulling on his shirt.
"Watch me ace this exam!" Kaminari boasted, already halfway into his gear.
Shoji sat on the bench near the corner, putting on his boots. He glanced up as Itami passed by and paused.
"You look worse than yesterday," Shoji said quietly, his voice low enough not to carry to the others.
Itami didn't respond at first, then muttered, "Didn't sleep."
Shoji watched him for a beat longer. "This is the final exam, you sure your ready?"
Itami nodded. "I'm fine."
He wasn't. But it was the only answer he had.
Shoji didn't push. Just said, "Don't do anything to make Bakugo blow up."
Itami gave the faintest smirk. "I'll try."
Itami then opened up his case and noticed immediately this wasn't his original hero costume. There was a note neatly folded on top. Opening the note it read:
Support team: We made changes to your hero costume that would suit the look your going for! As well as changing your wakizashi short blades with Batons. Your weapons can be picked up in our office.
Itami then picked up his new weapons and inspected them.
This is just a stupid stick…
He then put them in his locker as he took out his neatly folded costume. After tying his combat boots, Itami looked in the mirror.
The new costume was… different.
Sleek, almost ceremonial. Deep black layered with violet trim, and a high-collared hood draped over his head. A single amethyst gem gleamed at the center of his chest like a warning light. The tunic's cut was sharp and angular, tapering into wide sleeves. Below, muted silver pants tucked into reinforced boots.
He adjusted one of the cuffs, silent.
Behind him, Sero's laugh cut through the locker room air. "Bro You look like a final boss from a video game!."
Kaminari snorted. "Straight-up edge lord energy. All you need now is a giant crow, a tragic monologue and a giant castle!"
Itami rolled his eyes slightly, turning just enough to glance back.
Tokoyami folded his arms and gave a proud nod. "I approve. Darkness… recognizes darkness."
Kirishima peeked over and shrugged. "Honestly? Kinda badass."
Itami turned back to the mirror. The costume felt like a costume. Unlike the new one, the orginal one he had was more sleek and tactical. With a black Cowl that covered his body and lined with synthetic scales to help block attacks.
"Let's move, people!" Iida called from the corridor. "Time's almost up!"
Itami gave one last look at his reflection, the violet gem glowing faintly in the light—then shut the locker and walked out.
The ride to the testing grounds was quiet.
A few students talked, some joked, but most sat in their own heads. The pressure in the air wasn't heavy yet—but it was coming.
Itami sat near the back of the bus, hood pulled low, head against the window. He didn't sleep. Just stared. Let the world blur by.
Shoji glanced at him again. Said nothing at first.
Then—
"You sure you're good?"
Itami didn't look over.
"Yeah."
Shoji nodded once. Not convinced. But he left it there.
PRACTICAL EXAM SITE – CENTER PLAZA
The doors hissed open. The class filed out into the main courtyard—wide, concrete, surrounded by several training buildings.
Waiting for them—
Their teachers.
A full line of pro heroes. Suited up. Arms folded. Eyes watching. But something was off.
Between Power Loader and Present Mic stood someone else.
Dark armor. Broad shoulders. Thick plating lined with glowing crimson. A long coat draped from his back. His eyes unreadable beneath a dark visor.
Akuma.
Some students started whispering.
Mina leaned close to Kaminari. "Uh… who is that?"
Kaminari squinted. "That's not one of our teachers…"
Jirou raised a brow, already counting under her breath.
"Wait, how many of them are there?"
Aizawa stepped forward, hands in his pockets, scarf shifting slightly with the breeze.
"Let's begin your Practical Exam."
The class straightened up.
"You all think you know what's coming. Robot rumble. Same as the entrance exam. Right?"
A few smirks. Nervous laughs.
"Wrong."
Nezu hopped onto a nearby crate. "Various circumstances have demanded a revision to the exam format!"
More murmurs. Some eyes darted back to the teachers. Then back to Akuma.
Aizawa's voice cut through them again.
"This year, you'll face a different challenge. One built to test more than brute strength. You'll be facing us. Your teachers. Directly."
Silence.
Principal Nezu stepped forward. "All these factors and more were considered. So without further ado—"
Aizawa raised his voice. "First paring—Todoroki and Yaoyorozu. Your going against me."
They stepped forward. Calm. Focused.
Aizawa continued. "Second—Midorya and Bakugo. Your up against—"
Itami barely heard the next name. His focus was fixed on Akuma.
Akuma stood at the edge, arms crossed, his towering form wrapped in armor with trails of emberlight pulsing across the gauntlets. His presence didn't belong here. Sticking out like a sore thumb.
Something's wrong. Why is Akuma here? What did my clan do? Is that why midnight and Aizawa talked to me the other day?
Itami's thoughts hit a wall.
Was this the elders planning?
His jaw tensed.
Akuma hadn't even looked at him yet. Not once. But the air between them already felt like a wire pulled tight.
Then Aizawa called out.
"Third—Itami. You will be going solo as there no other partners to pair you with."
Akuma faced Itami as they both stared at eachother.
"You'll be facing… the Flameborn Warden."
Itami didn't move.
He stood there long after Aizawa said his name. Long after the murmurs started.
Akuma hadn't looked at him once—but Itami could feel it. Like a weight behind his ribs. The kind of pressure that wasn't physical. The kind you couldn't train against.
Akuma turned his head slightly. Just enough for their eyes to meet.
No words. Just heat. Familiar—but distant.
Itami didn't break eye contact as the rest of the class started to shift, whispering about the match-up.
"Let's go," Aizawa said quietly, nodding toward the buses behind him.
Akuma waited for Itami to walk first. He always did that—some blend of respect and habit. Itami walked, shoulders square, jaw tight. Akuma followed.
They boarded the first bus alone.
The door hissed shut behind them.
Just them and the robot driver.Just silence.
Akuma sat down across the aisle, armor humming low with faint embers pulsing through the plates.
"You holding up okay?" he asked, tone casual.
Itami didn't answer right away.
"Were you ever going to tell me?"
Akuma paused, head tilting slightly. "Tell you what?"
Itami finally looked at him. Not angry. Just tired.
"That you'd be the one they'd throw me at. That they're setting this up."
Akuma exhaled through his nose, leaning forward a bit. "It's not like that."
Itami's voice stayed flat. "Then what is it like?"
"They just told me the other day."
Itami looked down at his hands—hands that still trembled faintly from whatever was happening to his body. His quirk. The blood. The whispers. Fatigue.
He shook his head. "Feels like I'm being tested for something else. Why do they have to control everything?"
Akuma didn't respond right away as he looked out the window. "Maybe you are, but Let me tell you this. They want me to go all out."
Itami looked up, his eye still low "What?"
"The elders want me to hold nothing back."
Itami looked at him, the weight behind his eyes unreadable. "So, what—you're just gonna turn me into charcoal?"
Akuma grinned. "Only slightly scorched. Think of it as… character development."
Itami groaned quietly, leaning back into the seat. "Not if I kick your ass first, but I know your enjoying this."
"A little," Akuma admitted, shrugging. The pulsing embers across his gauntlets flared in sync with his smirk. "But only because your all frantic right now. Real broody. You've been walking around like a haunted poet from what I hear. Like that one guy, Edgar Alex pork or something."
Itami shot him a look. "I haven't slept in days. Also it's Edgar Allan Poe."
"Exactly," Akuma said, pointing. "Peak tortured protagonist arc."
Itami shook his head, the faintest curve threatening the edge of his mouth. "You're the worst."
"Correction, I'm the best worst," Akuma replied, sitting back with theatrical flair. "Look, man. I'm not here to break you because that's what they want. I'm here to see what happens when you stop holding back."
Itami's eyes narrowed.
Akuma raised both hands in defense. "Not saying you're slacking. Just saying you always don't go full out. Even in out sparing sessions where I always kick your ass."
The bus rumbled as it turned a corner. The testing grounds were getting close.
"And besides," Akuma continued, now clearly enjoying himself, "you've got a new costume. Very edgy. Very mysterious. You're basically obligated to pull off something cool."
"Great," Itami muttered but a slight smirk came across his lips. "I'll make sure to do a backflip while I'm electrocuting you."
Akuma grinned wide. "Now that's the spirit."
The silence that followed wasn't heavy anymore. Just quiet. Still. Calm before the fire.
Itami rested his hands on his knees, exhaled slowly, and spoke without looking. Another bump rocked the bus slightly as the scenery outside shifted—industrial outskirts, training towers in the distance, gleaming under the bright sun.
A beat of silence passed before Itami spoke again, quieter this time. "How are Lyra and Yukiko?"
Akuma leaned back, arms folded across his chestplate, gaze drifting out the window. "Still pushing themselves. Yukiko's been getting better with her light affinity. She can heal bigger wounds like stabbings and ruptured organs."
"Already? She's a fast learner" Itami replied " What about Lyra?"
"A fast and annoying opponent to deal with. She's been training with me and she can be annoyingly precise. She's been asking about you though, how have you been?"
Itami gave a weak smile as he hung his head low. "Very…Very tiring. I'm training with my squad mates two times a day, before school in the early morning and late in the evening. I haven't been sleeping good because—" he paused briefly thinking about his answer.
"Because of the training."
Akuma nodded but noticed he was lying. " you sure that's all?"
Itami looked up at Akuma " Yeah just tired."
The bus came to a slow stop as they made it to their testing area, the driving robot announced as the doors opened.
The bus hissed as it settled.
Akuma stood, clapping a fist to his chestplate with a metallic thud. "Let's give them a damn show."
Itami stood slower, rolling his shoulders, jaw tight. Still not ready. But he moved.
Akuma grinned back at him. "And hey if you survive this let's go celebrate at restaurant again."
"Please, that's just an excuse to get drunk." Itami muttered, following him.
The air outside was hot, windless, and dry—like something waiting to ignite. The ground was scorched black in some places from past tests. Ahead, the training field stretched wide like an empty stage, steel barricades rising at the edges. A silent audience of faculty and students watching from the distance.
Itami walked toward the center, the sun casting long shadows behind him.
The stage was set.