### **U.A. High School - Faculty Room, Tuesday Afternoon**
"Anyone else's students talking about that Avatar book?" Mic spun in his chair, nearly knocking over his coffee.
Aizawa didn't look up from his grading. "Unfortunately."
"Unfortunately?" Midnight's eyebrow arched. "I thought you'd appreciate a story where the main character doesn't rely on flashy powers."
"What I don't appreciate is my students debating fictional military strategy when they should be learning actual hero tactics." Aizawa's red pen scratched across another paper with unnecessary force.
Cementoss cleared his throat. "Well, my students have been asking better questions lately. About infrastructure, civilian evacuation routes. The book shows war from—" He paused, searching for words. "Multiple angles. Not just the hero's perspective."
Vlad King had been quietly demolishing his bento box, but now he set down his chopsticks. "I read some of it last night."
The room went silent.
Mic leaned forward. "And?"
"It's..." Vlad stared at his half-eaten lunch. "Heavy. The way it talks about symbols, about expectations. The kid in the story—he's just a child carrying the weight of the world." His eyes flicked toward the window. "Reminds me of some of our students."
Midnight nodded slowly. "The writing feels familiar somehow. Not the story itself, but the way it's put together. Like the author knows what it's like to live under that kind of pressure."
"You think it's a pro writing under a fake name?" Mic's voice pitched higher with excitement.
"Maybe. Or someone who's been around heroes long enough to understand." Midnight tapped her fingers against her desk. "The fight scenes are too real. The emotional stuff hits too close to home."
### **Everblue Publishing - Same Day**
Aya rubbed her temples as another email notification popped up. Interview request number... she'd lost count.
"Good Morning Japan wants a phone interview," her assistant called from the doorway. "They're calling it 'the new wave of Quirkless fiction.'"
"No."
"HeroWatch Network is offering—"
"Still no."
"But the fee is—"
"I said no." Aya's phone buzzed. A text from a number she'd memorized by now.
*"Saw three people reading the book on the train today. This is getting weird. - K.T.R.T"*
She smiled despite her headache.
*"Better get used to it. Sales numbers came in this morning. We're talking sequel timeline already."*
*"Already? Jesus."*
*"Remember the contract covers the full series. Please tell me you've got book 2 outlined."*
*"Outlined, drafted, and probably needs another rewrite. But yeah."*
---
Japan knew bestsellers.
Scandal memoirs that burned bright for a week. Pro hero tell-alls that dominated headlines before fading into obscurity. Celebrity breakups, political exposés, cooking shows turned books—Japan had seen it all.
But *The Last Airbender* wasn't playing by those rules.
It didn't explode onto the scene. It crept in. Quiet at first, like winter settling over the countryside. Word of mouth spread through online forums, high school hallways, teacher break rooms. Sales climbed steadily, relentlessly.
Week one: modest digital sales.
Week two: bookstore displays started appearing.
Week three: fan art surfaced on social media.
Week four: someone created a subreddit.
Week five: it cracked the top ten on Japan's Literary Rankings.
Now, nine weeks later, the numbers were impossible to ignore:
#3 National Literary Rankings.
#1 Digital Fiction.
#1 Youth Adventure.
#1 Modern Fantasy.
#1 Most Discussed Novel on social media for a month straight.
Only Tatsuhiko Horikoshi's war trilogy and that international phenomenon *Echoes of a Shattered Moon* were outselling it. Industry watchers were studying the sales curve like weather patterns, and everyone agreed: *The Last Airbender* was closing ground fast.
It was unprecedented. A debut novel. Zero marketing budget. No celebrity author.
And most frustrating of all for the media—no author at all.
---
Aya Hoshino looked like she'd been through a blender.
Her office at Everblue headquarters resembled a disaster zone: coffee cups forming rings on every surface, papers scattered like confetti, her tablet blinking angrily with unread messages. The press had lost their collective mind.
"Anonymous Avatar Author Revealed!"
"Secret Pro Hero Behind Bestseller?"
"Exclusive: Why Midnight Won't Admit She Wrote Avatar!"
"U.A. High School Connection EXPOSED!"
Every denial she sent just sparked three more theories. Every "no comment" became fuel for another conspiracy thread.
The author—a teenage boy preparing for hero school entrance exams—had no idea what kind of storm was brewing. Aya had insisted on the anonymity clause before he'd even thought to ask for it. The last thing either of them needed was that kind of pressure.
Which was why she now stood behind a podium, squinting into camera lights, trying not to let her hands shake.
"Thank you for coming." Her voice was steady, professional. "We understand there's significant interest in our author's identity. However, our legal agreement is clear: we will not be disclosing any identifying information."
Frustrated murmurs rippled through the crowd of reporters.
"The author wishes to remain private. We intend to honor that wish."
A hand shot up. "What about rumors that U.A. High is considering the book for curriculum use?"
Aya kept her expression neutral. "Any educational decisions are independent of the author's identity."
Another reporter jumped in. "Can you confirm adaptation rights discussions?"
Now she allowed herself a small smile. "We've received multiple inquiries from publishers and animation studios. A manga adaptation has been greenlit for next year. Animation is under consideration."
The room erupted in flashes and shouted questions.
"One more," Aya said, pointing to a woman in the back.
"With this success, any chance of a promotion for you personally, Hoshino-san?"
That actually made her laugh. "I'll have to ask my boss about that one."
---
The press conference footage dominated evening news cycles. But the segment that really caught public attention came later that night: Midnight, live on television, talking about the book that had captured the nation's imagination.
---
The studio lights were softer than usual, the set designed to look like an upscale living room. Midnight sat across from host Noriko Emura, trading her usual hero costume for a sleek black dress that somehow managed to be both elegant and provocative.
"Midnight-san," Noriko began, "you were one of the first heroes to publicly praise *The Last Airbender*. What drew you to it?"
Midnight leaned back, considering. "The honesty. There's no sugar-coating in that story. War is messy, people make mistakes, and sometimes the right choice isn't obvious." She paused. "Plus, the writing just flows. You know when someone really understands what they're talking about? That's how this felt."
"Do you think the author has personal experience with heroics?"
"Has to. The way they write about responsibility, about carrying other people's expectations..." Midnight's voice turned thoughtful. "That's not something you imagine. That's something you live."
Noriko leaned in. "Any theories about who it might be?"
Midnight grinned. "If I knew, I'd already be knocking on their door with questions. And maybe wine."
The audience laughed.
"You've proposed using the book in hero education. Why?"
"Because it teaches things we don't." Midnight's playful demeanor shifted, becoming more serious. "Empathy. The cost of violence. How to navigate moral ambiguity. Most hero courses focus on technique and law. This book asks the harder questions."
"Such as?"
"When is it okay to compromise your principles? How do you balance personal desires with duty? What happens when the 'right' choice hurts people you care about?" Midnight counted on her fingers. "Standard hero training doesn't really prepare you for that complexity."
---
Ken watched the interview from the passenger seat of his mother's car, stuck in evening traffic. The giant billboard screen ahead showed Midnight gesturing expressively as she spoke.
"...if I ever meet this mysterious author, we're going to have a very long conversation. I have so many questions about their process, their inspiration..."
Ken sank lower in his seat.
His mother glanced at the screen, then at him, barely suppressing a grin. "So, Mr. Famous Anonymous Author, how does it feel to have Midnight wanting to interrogate you?"
"Terrifying," he muttered.
"She seems nice enough."
"She's scary when she's being nice. That's her whole thing."
Akira laughed. "You know, when you were little, you used to tell me these elaborate stories about heroes and villains. I always thought you had a gift, but this..." She gestured at the screen where Midnight was still talking. "I never imagined it would go this far. I'm proud of you."
Ken watched his reflection in the window. "Thanks, Mom."
"Just imagine," she said, eyes sparkling with mischief, "going to U.A. and having to study your own book in literature class."
Ken's face went through several expressions before settling on mild horror. "That would be the most awkward thing in the history of awkward things."
His mother burst out laughing.
---
Three days later, in U.A.'s faculty conference room, Midnight stood before Principal Nezu and several other teachers.
"I know it's early," she said, hands clasped behind her back. "And I know we've only got one book to judge by. But *The Last Airbender* addresses things our curriculum barely touches. Conflict resolution without violence. The psychological toll of being a symbol. Moral decision-making under pressure."
Nezu sipped his tea, dark eyes thoughtful. "Intriguing. What exactly are you proposing?"
"Literature discussion sections. Ethics case studies based on scenarios from the book. Maybe even tactical analysis of the non-violent solutions the characters find." Midnight warmed to her topic. "The students are already talking about it anyway. Why not channel that engagement productively?"
"Hmm." Nezu set down his cup. "Let's monitor the second book's reception. If the quality remains consistent, we might incorporate some excerpts for classroom discussion."
Midnight smiled. "That's all I'm asking for."
Aizawa, who had been silent until now, spoke up. "Just don't blame me when my students start trying to solve every problem with 'ancient wisdom' and meditation."
---
**MUSTAFU, DAGOBA BEACH**
The sky threatened rain, heavy clouds pressing down on a shoreline still cluttered with decades of accumulated junk. Izuku Midoriya grunted as he dragged what might have once been a washing machine across the sand, muscles screaming in protest.
"Almost got it," he panted, pushing the rusted appliance toward his growing pile of cleared debris.
"Good work, young Midoriya!"
Except the encouragement sounded distracted. Izuku looked up to find All Might sitting on an overturned refrigerator, completely absorbed in... a book?
"All Might?"
"Hmm?" The Symbol of Peace glanced up, and Izuku was startled to see tears in his eyes. But he was smiling.
"Oh! Finished already? Excellent work!"
"You were reading?" Izuku couldn't hide his curiosity. All Might wasn't much of a reader outside of hero reports and training manuals.
"Ah, yes." All Might held up the book like he'd discovered treasure. "A friend recommended this to me after that Midnight interview. Said it might... resonate."
Izuku squinted at the cover. A bald kid with an arrow tattoo, surrounded by three other characters against a backdrop of swirling elements. *Avatar: The Last Airbender - A Symbol's Journey to Restore Balance.*
"Oh! That's the book everyone at school is obsessing over. You're reading it too?"
"My friend was right, as usual. It hits closer to home than I expected." All Might's voice grew quieter, more serious. "The main character—he's just a child, but he carries the hopes of an entire world. The responsibility, the isolation, the fear of failing everyone who believes in you..."
Izuku felt a chill that had nothing to do with the ocean breeze.
"Young Midoriya," All Might said, looking directly at him, "I want you to read this book."
"Me?"
"Being the Symbol of Peace isn't just about having power. It's about understanding why you use it. Who you're fighting for. What you're willing to sacrifice, and what you refuse to compromise." All Might's skeletal hand gripped the book tighter. "This story explores all of that. Better than any hero manual I've ever read."
Izuku looked at the cover again, seeing it differently now. "It's really that good?"
"It's that important. Trust me—you'll love it. This Sokka character had me laughing out loud, and there's this prince named Zuko who reminds me of that explosive friend of yours."
"Kacchan?"
"The very one. Anger management issues and all."
Despite everything, Izuku smiled. "Okay. I'll pick up a copy after training."
"Excellent! Now then—" All Might stood, tucking the book carefully into his jacket. "Ready for the next phase?"
___
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