[Third Person Pov]
Due to Tony's overwhelming popularity, his interview with the press outside Power High didn't simply circulate across America as many had expected—it exploded onto the global stage. News outlets across the world replayed the footage on loop, overlaying subtitles and translations so that people of every language and nation could understand his words. Social media platforms were flooded with clips, edits, and commentary, his defiant declaration echoing far beyond the school's gates.
However, among the countless viewers tuning in, the ones paying the closest attention were none other than his friends and classmates from U.A. High, along with several faculty members who watched in silence, each reacting in their own way.
"I'm tenacious and stubborn to my very core," Tony's voice rang out clearly through the speakers. "Some people might think this should be my wake-up call—that I should stop being a hero, hang up the suit, and walk away while I still can. That maybe I won't get so lucky next time."
Despite the weight of his words, his voice never wavered. There was no hesitation, no fear—only conviction.
"And to that," Tony continued, lifting his chin slightly as cameras zoomed in, "I have only this to say: I am, and will always be, Iron Man. And that's something not even God himself can prevent."
…
Kirishima was in his room, a tank top clinging to his sweat-soaked torso, a bandana tied tightly around his forehead. He was mid–push-up, arms trembling with exertion, tears streaming freely down his face as he listened. The moment Tony finished speaking, Kirishima slammed his palms into the floor and sprang to his feet.
"That is so manly, bro!" he shouted, pumping his fist into the air. "Hell yeah! I'm so fired up right now!" His eyes burned with raw determination as if Tony's words had reignited something deep within his soul.
…
Bakugo sat in his living room, hunched forward with his elbows resting on his knees, a bowl balanced carelessly in one hand and a spoon clenched in the other. The TV flickered in front of him, Tony's image reflected faintly in his narrowed crimson eyes. He scoffed quietly but didn't say a word, his grip tightening just a bit.
"YOU BETTER NOT GET ANY FOOD ON THE COUCH!!" Mitsuki Bakugo suddenly shouted from the other room.
"STOP BEING SUCH A NAG, YOU OLD HAG!" Bakugo snapped back without looking away from the screen, irritation flaring as usual—yet his gaze never left Tony.
…
Toru sat curled up in her room, her laptop perched on her desk. A tissue was pressed over her nose and mouth as her shoulders trembled. The interview continued to play, but her vision blurred as tears streamed down her invisible face.
"They're already applying for a new school…" she murmured brokenly. "They really aren't coming back…" Her voice cracked, and she buried her face into her hands as another sob escaped her.
…
Denki leaned against a wall, watching the same interview on his phone. His expression was subdued, eyes slightly downcast as he came to the same realization Toru had. Still, as Tony's unwavering confidence filled the room, Denki felt the corners of his mouth tug upward.
"Aw man…" he whispered softly, his throat tightening. "U.A. really isn't going to be the same without you, bro…"
…
Aizawa stood in his apartment wearing loose, casual clothes, a bowl of cat food in one hand and water in the other. He paused mid-step as Tony's voice echoed from the television. His tired eyes lingered on the screen for a moment longer than he intended to, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at his lips.
Without a word, he turned and walked toward his cats, setting the bowls down gently.
…
Midoriya sat on the floor in front of the TV, curling dumbbells in steady, practiced motions as he watched the interview. Tony's voice continued to resonate through the room.
"People seem to forget something very important," Tony said. "Before the Era of Quirks, humanity wasn't helpless. We weren't weak. We didn't sit around waiting for powers to fall out of the sky."
Midoriya slowed his movements.
"Before quirks ever existed, mankind grasped the heavens with its own hands," Tony went on. "We built towers of steel that scraped the sky. We forged machines that split the atom. We created rockets—rockets—that tore free from Earth's gravity and carried human beings into space."
The weights slipped gently from Midoriya's hands as he stared down at the floor, his green curls shadowing his eyes. A quiet, bittersweet smile formed on his lips, one filled with wonder and regret all at once.
"Could… could I have been a hero without a quirk all this time?" he whispered to himself, thoughts drifting to a life that might have been—one forever changed by fate and a single encounter with All Might.
…
"Young Stark…" All Might muttered softly in his deflated form, his tired eyes fixed on the television screen. There was a faint note of awe in his voice, mixed with something deeper—something far more personal. As someone who had been born quirkless himself, he couldn't help but feel a swell of pride… and just a hint of envy.
Tony—and Melissa as well—had accomplished feats that many pro heroes with powerful quirks could only dream of, all through sheer intellect, determination, and unbreakable resolve. No borrowed power. No miracle transformations. Just human ingenuity.
All Might closed his eyes for a moment, a gentle smile forming on his face as he stood alone in his quiet home.
"I'm really proud of the both of you," he murmured to the empty room. "I know you'll be okay… no matter where in the world you two end up."
…
Mina was in no better state than Toru had been earlier. She lay sprawled across her bed on her stomach, hugging her pillow tightly to her chest as if it were the only thing anchoring her. Her face was buried deep into the fabric, shoulders shaking as she cried quietly.
"This is so unfair!" she cried out, her words coming out muffled as she repeatedly banged her fist against the mattress in frustration. "They didn't deserve this…"
…
"The reason I left Japan and U.A. has nothing to do with the disaster itself," Tony began, his voice steady as the cameras remained locked on him. "Well… if I said it had nothing to do with it, that would be a lie."
He let out a slow breath before continuing.
"The truth is, it does relate to the incident—but not in the way people assume. And it has nothing to do with U.A."
He didn't pause, didn't falter.
"The teachers and faculty at U.A. did everything they could with the information and resources they had at the time," Tony said firmly. "In fact, it was only thanks to them that my partner and I were able to survive long enough—and ultimately succeed in defeating Ultron."
…
Nezu sat comfortably in his own home, wrapped in a plush bathrobe, a glass of wine cradled carefully in his tiny paws. As Tony's words reached his ears, his eyes widened ever so slightly. The stress lines that had been etched into his expression for days seemed to soften.
He released a small, relieved breath, a look of genuine gratitude washing over his face.
"Thank you, Stark," he said quietly. "U.A. truly remains in your debt… time and time again."
…
"The school and teachers of U.A. should not be seen as incompetent," Tony continued, his voice calm yet resolute. The playful edge he often carried was gone entirely, replaced with sharp clarity and conviction.
"Far from it," he said. "It was only thanks to their experience—and their ability to take control of the situation under extreme pressure—that we were able to defeat Ultron without any casualties."
He paused deliberately, letting the weight of his words settle over the audience.
"U.A. deserves praise for that," Tony finished. "Not suspicion. And certainly not condemnation."
…
Aizawa watched from his living room, a cat tucked under each arm as they dangled lazily, clearly unbothered. A quiet chuckle escaped him as he shook his head slightly.
"It seems he can be mature when he wants to be," he muttered dryly, earning a lazy flick of a tail to the face.
…
Meanwhile, the homeroom teacher of Class 1-B sat rigidly upright, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he glared at the television. A low grumble slipped from his lips.
"I definitely should have fought harder to get him into my class," He muttered irritably. "If I were Aizawa, I would've made damn sure to keep a strong grip on that kid."
…
Present Mic leaned back against his couch as the interview finally wrapped up, letting out a long breath. He reached up to scratch the back of his head, concern flickering behind his usual energetic demeanor.
"Even if he doesn't show it," he said quietly, "I know Shoto's absolutely devastated about losing those kids…"
He grabbed his phone.
"I better give him a call."
…
Midnight dabbed gently at her eyes with a tissue, clearing away the lingering moisture as she sniffled softly. A warm, almost wistful smile spread across her face.
"What a good kid," she said fondly. "If only he were a little older… or better yet, if I were a little younger." She sighed dramatically. "I could've gotten hitched and retired early."
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