"A POP TEST?!"
The shout erupted from the students of Class 1-A, their voices a mixture of doubt, excitement, and nervous anticipation.
"What about the opening ceremony? And counseling?" a student called out from the back.
"If you truly want to be heroes, there's no time for such things," Father replied calmly, his tone indifferent.
"You all know this academy's reputation—its so-called freedom. That 'freedom' also applies to us... your teachers."
A long silence followed. The room was filled with tension as everyone fell into quiet reflection, their faces slowly draining of color.
"Softball throw. Long jump. 50-meter dash. Endurance run. Grip strength. Repetitive side jumps. Upper body training. Toe raises."
"These are exercises you all did regularly in middle school—basic physical tests where using your Quirk was strictly prohibited."
"The government has yet to establish a formal standard for measuring or recording Quirk performance."
Still, no one moved. Their eyes were locked forward, listening intently to every word Father said.
"Bakugo. How far could you throw a softball back in middle school?"
Bakugo raised an eyebrow, his expression disinterested, almost annoyed.
"67 meters," he answered curtly.
I turned slightly to glance at him—the boy with wild blonde hair and sharp, crimson eyes, radiating apathy.
"So that's Bakugo... the one who always clashes with Midoriya," I murmured silently.
Father tossed a softball toward him. Bakugo caught it with ease, examining the ball in his hand before shifting his gaze back to Father.
"This time, use your Quirk. As long as you stay within the circle, do whatever you want."
Bakugo grinned, wide and confident. He stepped forward, stretching his arms as he walked to the center of the circle.
He braced himself, wound up, and hurled the ball with a deafening blast.
"DIEEEE!!!"
Smoke and wind burst outward like a shockwave, slamming into us. When it cleared, Bakugo stood tall, unfazed.
"Before anything else," Father said quietly, "a person must first understand what they're capable of."
He raised a small digital device, clearly designed to measure distance.
[705.2 meters.]
"This is a rational metric—the very foundation of your path to becoming heroes."
The field erupted into cheers and amazement.
"That was amazing! This looks fun!"
"705 meters? Are you serious?!"
"We can actually use our Quirks now? The Hero Department is incredible!"
But amidst the excitement... Father stood with a thin, chilling smile.
"Fun, you say? So your plan is to spend the next three years enjoying yourselves? What happened to your desire to become heroes?"
"Very well then. A new rule: The student who ranks last in total points... will be deemed hopeless and expelled immediately."
Panic spread like wildfire across the students' faces. Their shocked cries and protests fused into chaos.
"So this is your idea of freedom—kicking students out whenever you feel like it?! Welcome... to the Hero Department!"
Amid the uproar, with trembling hands and hearts pounding with fear and doubt… stood Midoriya and me.
Father's gaze found mine. His eyes narrowed, and he gave a cold, challenging smile.
"I told you before, Tsukasa… physical training matters."
***
"Natural disasters, massive accidents, deranged villains—anything can happen at any moment."
"That's why, as heroes, we must be the ones to turn the tide. If any of you thought you'd be hanging out and having fun—ditch that mindset. At U.A., there is only struggle."
Everyone swallowed hard. Some wore looks of determination, clearly ready for the trials ahead.
"I hope all of you overcome this test and rise to the top. This is PLUS ULTRA!"
"Now then… to the mound."
[50-Meter Sprint]
One by one, students showed off their skills. Iida blazed through the track with a jaw-dropping time of 3.04 seconds, setting a new record. Each student used their unique Quirks to push themselves to the limit.
[Iida Tenya – Quirk: Engine. His calves contain engine-like exhausts, allowing him explosive propulsion!]
"Amazing..." I muttered softly, in awe of my classmates' incredible abilities.
Then, I glanced at Midoriya. He was still standing stiffly, clearly nervous and uncertain.
"I believe you can be faster than all of them," I told him.
Midoriya looked at me gently, then gave a small nod with a bitter smile tugging at his lips.
"Yeah... I... I'll try my best."
His words were steady, but his eyes gave him away. They were filled with doubt. Something far bigger was weighing on his mind.
Then came my turn—50-meter sprint.
[Aizawa Tsukasa – Quirk: Intangible. While active, he becomes completely untouchable by anything!]
"Ugh... What can I even do with this?" I whispered to myself as I stood at the finish line. From afar, my father watched with a faint smirk on his face.
[7.05 seconds]
"Yeah... that's pretty bad."
I returned to the sidelines and watched my classmates display one incredible Quirk after another.
"That wasn't too bad," Midoriya said to me, his voice calm and sincere. That little bit of praise made me grin widely.
***
Now... I stood within the circle—the pitching area for the softball throw. All eyes were on me, and in that moment… my thoughts spiraled.
"What am I even capable of?" I asked myself in silence.
I glanced at my father, who gave a subtle nod, raising his brow as a signal to begin.
"Dad— I-I mean, Sensei. I'm allowed to use that Quirk… right?"
He raised an eyebrow, gave a small smirk, and nodded slightly.
A wide smile spread across my face. I gently tossed the softball upward, almost lazily.
Everyone's eyes widened, stunned by how careless and unserious my throw looked—like a joke. I reached one hand forward and murmured:
"Hakujoudai."
From behind me—no one could tell how or from where—it appeared: a pitch-black eyeball, swirling with dark aura, its presence alone sending shivers down everyone's spine.
The small, shadowy eye darted toward the airborne ball, wrapping around it almost like it was constricting it—and then… it vanished.
Gasps filled the air. The silence afterward was deafening. No one could find the words to respond. And then, my father raised the distance reading for all to see.
[Unconventional.]