"Again!" Grandpa barks, barely giving me time to catch my breath.
I drag myself up from the rooftop's concrete surface, my muscles screaming in protest. Three hours. We've been at this for three hours, and Grandpa shows no signs of slowing down.
"You call that lightning? My grandmother moves faster than that, and she's been dead for forty years!"
Gotta love Grandpa's motivational speeches.
I focus, channeling electricity through my legs—a technique I've been practicing for weeks. Blue lightning crackles around my calves and feet as I launch myself forward, aiming for the training dummy Grandpa set up.
I'm fast. Not Grandpa-level fast, but faster than any normal human. The world blurs around me as I close the distance in a fraction of a second, my lightning-charged fist connecting with the dummy's head.
The impact sends it flying across the roof, smashing into the wall of the stairwell housing.
"Better," Grandpa says, which from him is practically a standing ovation. "Your acceleration is improving. But your control is still sloppy."
He gestures at the scorch marks I've left on the rooftop. "In the entrance exam, you'll be judged not just on power, but precision. Collateral damage counts against you."
I nod, trying to regulate my breathing. Two weeks until the UA entrance exam. Two weeks to perfect three months of training. The pressure is crushing.
"One more run," Grandpa says, setting up another dummy. "This time, focus on containing your electricity. No stray bolts, no scorch marks."
I wipe sweat from my forehead, centering myself. Containing my power is the hardest part. It wants to be wild, to spread out, to consume everything around it.
Just as I'm about to launch myself forward again, the door to the roof opens.
"Sorry I'm late!" Nejire calls, rushing over with her usual boundless energy. "Mom needed help with groceries, and then I saw this cat stuck in a tree, and you know I couldn't just leave it there, so—"
"You're here now," Grandpa interrupts, but there's no real bite to his words. Over the past month, Nejire has become a fixture in our training sessions, and even Grandpa seems to enjoy having her around. "We're working on controlled acceleration and precise strikes."
"Ooh, lightning speed! That's my favorite!" She drops her backpack and bounces on her toes, ready to jump in. "Want me to set up some targets?"
Before I can answer, Grandpa tosses her a handful of small discs. "Place these around the roof. Shinra, your job is to hit each one in sequence without damaging anything else."
Nejire grins, taking the discs and darting around the rooftop. She places them in increasingly difficult positions, behind vents, near delicate potted plants, close to the edge where a miss would send electricity shooting into the air like a beacon.
"Ready when you are!" she calls, coming to stand beside Grandpa.
I take a deep breath. Focus. This isn't just about power—it's about control. Precision.
Lightning crackles around my body as I launch myself toward the first target. I move in a blur, touching each disc with just enough electricity to trigger the small light on its surface, then redirecting myself to the next. One, two, three... the world slows down around me as I accelerate, my perception heightening with speed.
The final disc is the trickiest—positioned on the other side of a large metal air conditioning unit. A direct approach would mean electrifying the unit, which would count as collateral damage.
I've got to go around. No, over.
I push more power into my legs, jumping higher than I've ever tried before. For a moment, I'm soaring above the rooftop, lightning trailing behind me like a comet tail. Then I'm descending, finger extended to tap the final disc with surgical precision.
I stick the landing, a little wobbly but upright. All targets hit. No collateral damage.
Nejire cheers, clapping enthusiastically. "That was amazing! You're getting so fast!"
Even Grandpa looks impressed, which is saying something. "Not bad," he concedes. "Your control is improving. But the UA exam will be much more challenging than this."
"I know," I say, catching my breath. "The robots, the time limit, the other examinees—"
I stop myself, realizing I've said too much. The robots are supposed to be a surprise. I shouldn't know about them.
Grandpa raises an eyebrow. "Robots? Who said anything about robots?"
Shit. Think fast, Shinra.
"Nejire mentioned it," I improvise. "She said her older cousin took the exam a few years ago and had to fight robots."
Nejire blinks in confusion. "I did? I don't remember—"
I shoot her a look, silently pleading. Thankfully, she catches on quickly.
"Oh! Right! My cousin Takeshi! Yeah, he... um, he told me all about it." She laughs nervously, a terrible liar but trying her best. "Robots and stuff. Very robotic."
Grandpa looks skeptical but doesn't press the issue. "Well, whether it's robots or not, the exam will test more than just your quirk. It'll test your judgment, your adaptability, and your heroic instincts."
He crosses his arms, looking at both of us. "Which brings me to my next point. Strategy. Let's discuss how you two should approach the exam."
We spend the next hour going over potential scenarios. Grandpa is surprisingly knowledgeable about the UA entrance exam format, despite it changing slightly each year. He emphasizes the importance of standing out from the crowd without showing off, being decisive but careful, and focusing on our objectives rather than competing with other examinees.
As the sun begins to set, Grandpa declares training over for the day. "Rest up. We'll continue tomorrow."
He heads downstairs, leaving Nejire and me alone on the roof.
"Thanks for covering for me back there," I say once he's gone. "About the robots."
She plops down beside me, leaning back on her hands. "No problem. But how did you know about them? I really don't have a cousin."
"I, uh, heard some older kids talking about it at school," I lie, hating how easily the fabrication comes to me. "Someone's brother or something took the exam last year."
She seems to accept this, nodding. "Makes sense. Though I hope they change it up a bit. It'd be boring if it was the exact same test every year, you know?"
"Yeah," I agree, relieved to move past my mistake. "I'm sure they'll have some surprises for us."
We sit in comfortable silence for a moment, watching as the sky turns orange and pink with the setting sun. Training with Nejire has become the highlight of my days. She pushes me to try harder, celebrates every small success, and never seems to doubt that I'll make it into UA.
"Hey," she says suddenly, turning to look at me. "How much of your quirk are you planning to show during the exam?"
The question catches me off guard. "What do you mean?"
She twirls a strand of hair around her finger, thinking. "Well, you've got a really powerful quirk, right? But sometimes when we train, I get the feeling you're holding back. Like there's more you could do but you're... I don't know, restraining yourself."
My stomach tightens. She's more perceptive than I give her credit for.
"I'm just careful," I say, choosing my words with care. "My quirk can be destructive if I lose control."
"But in the exam, you'll need to show what you can really do." She looks at me earnestly. "The teachers need to see your potential."
It's a dilemma I've been wrestling with for weeks. How much should I show? If I hold back too much, I might not score enough points to pass. But if I show my full power—or even a significant fraction of it—I'll attract attention. Questions. Scrutiny.
In the manga, some of the most powerful students were recruited directly by pro heroes who noticed their potential. What if that happens to me? What if I end up on someone's radar years before the main storyline even begins?
Or worse, All for One's radar.
"I'm just going to focus on passing," I tell her. "Show enough to get in, but not so much that I stand out too dramatically."
She frowns. "But why wouldn't you want to stand out? The top performers get noticed by pros, get better internship opportunities, more attention from teachers..."
"I don't need all that," I insist. "I just want to get in, train, become a competent hero. Not every hero needs to be in the spotlight."
Nejire studies me, her usual cheerful expression replaced with something more thoughtful. "You're different from most people who want to be heroes, you know that? Most kids dream of being the next All Might, of being recognized everywhere they go. But you..."
She trails off, still watching me.
"I'm just realistic," I shrug, uncomfortable under her scrutiny. "I know my limits."
Do I, though? The truth is, I don't know the limits of my power. Enel in the manga was godlike in his abilities, capable of destroying entire islands. I'm nowhere near that level yet, but what if I could be? What if the only thing holding me back is my own fear?
"Well, I think you're selling yourself short," Nejire says finally. "You could be one of the top heroes if you wanted to be."
Before I can respond, she jumps to her feet. "Anyway, I should get going. My parents want me home for dinner. Same time tomorrow?"
"Yeah," I nod. "Same time tomorrow."
As she leaves, I stay on the roof, watching the last traces of sunlight disappear behind the city skyline. Her question echoes in my mind: how much of my quirk am I planning to show?
The truth is, I'm scared. Not of failing, though that's definitely a concern, but of attracting the wrong kind of attention. Specifically, the attention of All For One.
As I head back downstairs, I can't shake the feeling that no matter how carefully I plan, the UA entrance exam is going to change everything. For better or worse.
And when that happens, all bets are off.