Four years before U.A. Class 1-A.
Location: U.A. High, Main Campus. Hero Course Entrance Exam
The courtyard was alive with colour and chaos. Students bristling with raw energy, quirks sparking and crackling in the air. Explosions flared in the distance where someone with a combustion-type Quirk was showing off. Another teen zipped through the air on wings of wind.
Kaito Shinamori stood still amidst it all.
At 18, he was taller than most around him. His frame was lean but sculpted, every movement fluid and controlled. He wore matte-black combat gear, minimalist but dense with embedded tech. No cape, no colours, no hero flair. Just a sleek visor across his face, his expression unreadable behind its faint blue gleam.
"Yo, check that guy out," someone nearby muttered. "He's not even using a Quirk. Looks like a cosplay reject."
"Maybe he's lost? Or a support course reject trying again?"
Kaito didn't respond.
He tuned out the noise, eyes scanning the starting zone. 3 minutes until the exam began. 3 minutes until the battlefield opened and chaos ensued.
He adjusted the microsettings on his gloves, reinforced kinetic dampeners, pressure sensors calibrated. His boots buzzed softly as the stealth vectoring engaged. Dozens of readouts danced across his visor: terrain map, probable enemy locations, aerial scans, countdown timers.
"Kaito, all systems green. Tactical drone is in orbit. Audio relays are active," his AI assistant, Yoru, whispered in his ear. "Would you like to initiate heartbeat sync with the lead instructor?"
"No," he said aloud. "Too much noise. Just give me visuals."
"Understood. Show them who you are."
Fifteen Minutes Earlier – Registration Booth
The U.A. proctor glanced down at his clipboard and frowned.
"Quirk: None?" he repeated.
Kaito nodded.
"You sure this isn't a mistake? We do have a General Studies course—"
"I'm here for the Hero Course."
The proctor hesitated. Then saw the name. Shinamori. The name still rang faint alarm bells—faded memories of news headlines and scandal, a family once lauded as the 'Brains of Heroics' before they disappeared.
"…Alright. But you know the odds, right?"
"I'm not here to play the odds," Kaito said simply.
Back to the Present – Exam Start
0:00.
The gates thundered open. The ground trembled. And the students surged forward like a tidal wave.
Kaito didn't run.
He moved...a shadow against concrete, steps utterly silent, body fluid as oil over steel. While others rushed in screaming and blasting their quirks, he activated the scanner drone from his shoulder port. It ascended silently, feeding him data.
Zone 4: Three pointer to the north, five-pointer behind the warehouse.
He jumped from the observation deck and landed ten feet down with a soft metallic thud. A moment later, the three-pointer burst from behind a corner, its mechanical limbs whirring.
Most students blasted, punched, screamed.
Kaito sidestepped.
In one motion, he triggered a spring-loaded baton from his armguard and drove it directly into the bot's central eye. The baton released a precise, localized EMP burst.
The bot convulsed and collapsed in a smoking heap.
No wasted movement. No flare. Just calculated violence.
From the sidelines, Present Mic's voice boomed:"OOOH! That's a clean takedown from contestant number 384! Is he… wait, is he really Quirkless?!"
Aizawa's eyes narrowed behind his yellow goggles.
"Interesting…"
Backflash – The 7-Year Odyssey
Between the ages of 9 and 18, Kaito lived in the shadows of the world's brightest stage.
After his parents' deaths, their underground labs were seized by the government, except for one facility, hidden beneath a mountain estate in western Japan. His inheritance, shrouded behind shell companies, was activated the moment he turned 10.
With it came files. Training programs. Combat manuals. Engineering blueprints. Voice recordings from his father, designed as lessons.
Kaito devoured it all.
By 13, he could dismantle military drones and rebuild them blindfolded.By 15, he sparred weekly with mercenaries trained in CQC, judo, and Krav Maga.By 17, he built his first prototype suit...then tore it apart because it was "too loud."He didn't want to be seen.
He wanted to be effective.
Heroes like All Might were beacons. He respected them, but Kaito would never be that. He'd be the hand in the dark. The blade in the silence. The shield that no one saw coming.
Present – Halfway Through the Exam
Scores blared across the field.
"Points: 45."
Kaito was in the top 5. And climbing.
He disabled robots with surgical precision. He led enemy bots into traps set for other students, then took them all out. He hacked a navigation beacon mid-battle to reroute a group away from civilians.
He wasn't just fighting.
He was winning smart.
Then came the Zero Pointer.
A skyscraper-sized monstrosity barreled into the testing zone. Students screamed and scattered. Panic rippled across the battlefield.
Kaito turned his head slightly.
"Yoru. Scan structural weaknesses."
"Scans complete. Right knee servo joint is exposed. Minimum charge needed: plasma round, level 4."
Kaito leapt onto a rooftop, holstering his baton and drawing a compact rifle from his back. It locked and unfolded with a whisper. One shot. He took it.
KRACK!
The round hit the weak spot perfectly. The joint erupted in sparks. The zero pointer lurched, then fell.
Dust cloud. Silence. Then cheers.
Post-Exam
Hours later, as students were called to receive scores or rejections, Kaito sat alone on a bench under a tree.
His visor was off. Sweat clung to his hairline, but his eyes were calm.
A voice approached.
"You didn't have to show off, you know."
He turned. Aizawa stood there, arms crossed, scarf loose around his neck.
"You're not like the others," Aizawa said. "You're not here to become a hero. You already are."
Kaito didn't answer right away.
"I want the license. Nothing more."
Aizawa smirked. "Then welcome to U.A., Shinamori."