Upon returning to his world with Miyu, Ryoko began explaining the power of the Aurora Curtain. The more he spoke, the more her eyes lit up, her brother, the one she had longed for, carried within him a power that could traverse countless worlds. The idea alone made her heart race with excitement.
Encouraged by him, Miyu tried to summon the Aurora Curtain herself. After all, she had wished not just to be his sister in name, but in truth. Just as the Kadoya siblings shared this gift, Miyu too managed to call forth her own Aurora Curtain.
But there was a problem. Though she could manifest it, she couldn't yet step through. It shimmered before her like an unreachable dream, much like when Kadoya Sayo had first awakened her Curtain.
Still, Tsutsumi knew it was only a matter of control before Miyu would one day cross her Curtain and set foot into new worlds by her own strength.
...
While Tsutsumi was busy teaching Miyu how to control her newfound power, the staff at U.A. worked tirelessly to track down the missing student, Tsutsumi Ryoko. And now, another name was added to their search: Tsutsumi Miyu.
"This is troublesome, Aizawa," Nezu muttered as his paws clicked furiously over the keyboard. "There is no record of any Tsutsumi Miyu. Yet, according to Tsukauchi's investigation, everything Tsutsumi has claimed checks out-"
Nezu suddenly froze. His normally composed expression slipped, and his two black eyes went wide.
"NANI!!?"
The sudden outburst made Midnight jolt. "What's the matter, Nezu?" she asked, brows furrowed.
"I… I think I found her," Nezu said at last. With a flick, he projected the results onto the monitor for everyone in the room.
Onscreen appeared Tsutsumi Miyu's official profile: her citizen ID, gender, date of birth, family background, down to something as trivial as her blood type.
"Uh… Nezu," All Might scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Could it be you just… overlooked this before?"
"Impossible!" Nezu snapped, his voice unusually sharp. "I already ran multiple background checks on the Tsutsumis! There was no record of Miyu until just recently!" His tone carried a rare edge of panic, his brain already racing at full speed.
Then something clicked. He checked the registration date again. The profile hadn't been created recently, it had been registered three years after Tsutsumi Ryoko's.
For a creature who prided himself on being one of the sharpest minds in Japan, the discovery was unsettling. For the first time in his life, Nezu wondered if he had truly missed something… or if reality itself had shifted behind his back.
The truth was stranger. This was the unseen consequence of world-traveling. Each time Ryoko stepped into a new world, a new identity was woven into that world for him, along with the skills to fit that life. Miyu, now bound to him not only by choice but by blood and her own Aurora Curtain, had inherited the same benefit.
In many worlds, especially advanced ones, citizen IDs meant legitimacy, safety, and a place to belong. Without them, one was nothing more than an unregistered ghost slipping illegally across borders.
...
"Interesting…" Ryoko muttered, flipping through the documents he had pulled from the safe.
They were his and Miyu's. Originally, only his files had been there. Now, Miyu's birth certificate and identification sat neatly alongside his own.
"So, like me… she's been given an identity in this world too," he murmured before tucking them back into place. His gaze shifted down the hall. From behind the bathroom door came the steady hiss of running water.
"I should get her something to wear."
Just then, the faint glow of his phone caught his eye. The cracked screen flickered back to life, finally holding a charge at 10%. Usable, if barely. He unlocked it-
114 missed calls. 159 unread texts.
"…Guess I really worried everyone." His voice was quiet, almost detached. Without hesitation, he summoned the Aurora Curtain, stepping back into Miyu's dying world.
Snow greeted him. That frozen wasteland, the place they had once called home. Pulling up his phone, he snapped a picture, his battered figure staring blankly into the lens, flashing a peace sign. His torn, bloodstained clothes and still-visible wounds made the shot grim, almost mocking.
Phone pocketed, he moved with purpose. Books, Miyu's clothes and bedding, a few keepsakes. His own spare outfits. His father's guns and explosives, those he secured last. When everything was packed, he returned to his world.
The phone buzzed. Ryoko opened the Class 1-A group chat.
[Jiro Kyoka]: @TsutsumiRyoko Did you come back? I saw the lights on.
[Bakugo Katsuki]: @TsutsumiRyoko You bastard of a Class President!
[Kirishima Eijiro]: @TsutsumiRyoko Dude, it's really you!? I'm coming over!
[Kaminari Denki]: @TsutsumiRyoko Bro, what happened? Why'd you ditch us like that?
[Sero Hanta]: @KirishimaEijiro Maybe now's not the time, man…
[Yaoyorozu Momo]: @TsutsumiRyoko Are you okay? I heard you were badly hurt before disappearing.
Ryoko sent the photo he took not long ago. Then typed one line:
[Tsutsumi Ryoko]: I lived.
Shutting the phone off, he tossed it onto the charger and went back to unpacking.
Attack Ride: Illusion
His body split into multiple copies, each clone carrying out a task. Some carried books to the study, others set up Miyu's new room. One hid the weapons in the training chamber. Another cleaned.
"Miyu, I left a set of pajamas outside the door for you," he called.
Moments later-
BAM BAM BAM!
The door rattled under heavy knocking. The bell rang nonstop.
Opening it, Ryoko found himself face to face with a frantic Jiro Kyoka, who immediately threw her arms around him, and a tired-looking Aizawa, whose sharp eyes betrayed his relief.
"You look like hell, kid," Aizawa muttered.
Ryoko only shrugged. But Aizawa's gaze slid past him, to the girl in bear pajamas peeking nervously from the hall. Black hair, violet eyes, just like the profile he had seen appear out of nowhere.
"That is…"
"My little sister. Tsutsumi Miyu." Ryoko's calm declaration made both Jiro and Aizawa freeze.
Jiro gawked. Aizawa… just narrowed his eyes.
"Miyu, this is my classmate Jiro Kyoka… and my homeroom teacher, Aizawa… whatever his name is."
Aizawa: "…"
You could at least put '-sensei' after my name. I didn't lose five days of sleep just to be disrespected.
But he let it slide. Instead, he cut straight to questions about Ryoko's disappearance.
Ryoko and Miyu followed their agreed-upon story: separated at a young age, reunited by chance. He taught her, cared for her, until the day she was kidnapped, forcing him to save her.
Neither Jiro nor Aizawa fully bought it. But the details matched what Aizawa had already confirmed.
"Whatever. Don't forget tomorrow is the Sports Festival," Aizawa finally said, his tone flat but edged with warning. As he turned, he added, "Oh, and Nezu arranged something. Some of your mother's old coworker from her hero days are willing to take you for internships. On one condition, if you show actual talent."
Ryoko's eyes sharpened immediately at the mention of his mother. Exactly as Nezu expected.
...
The next day, Ryoko finally returned to school. His sudden reappearance drew mixed reactions, some classmates were relieved to see him safe, while others glared, bitter over the endless pop quizzes and tests they had been forced to endure during his absence.
Ryoko, of course, didn't care. His mind was elsewhere, specifically, whether to cook dinner for Miyu tonight or take her out for something special. The upcoming Sports Festival was little more than an annoying formality in comparison.
While Ryoko pondered, Todoroki stood before Midoriya, voice sharp and cold.
"Between the two of us, I am stronger. Superior in every way. You can't win."
A few classmates booed at the arrogance, but Todoroki dismissed them with the same indifference Bakugo often displayed. Then his gaze shifted toward the purple-haired boy, who was still mentally debating food options.
"And you, Tsutsumi. I will defeat you. No matter how many tricks you hide, I'll still come out on top."
"Cool," Ryoko replied flatly, not even looking up.
Everyone: At least pretend to listen when someone challenges you!
He sighed, bored. "What do you want me to say? If they lose in the first or second event after talking that big, it'll just be funny."
Midoriya & Todoroki: "..."
Bakugo, meanwhile, burst out laughing before his grin sharpened. "Then I'll crush you at the Festival, Tsutsumi." Unlike Todoroki, who seemed fixated on Midoriya, and unlike Midoriya, who struggled to even control his power, Bakugo's eyes saw clearly. He knew who really stood above the rest of the class.
"Good luck," Ryoko said with a faint smile, meeting Bakugo's gaze directly.
That one simple acknowledgment made Bakugo's blood boil with excitement. Unlike Todoroki, who had been brushed off and ignored, Bakugo's challenge had been taken seriously, and that made all the difference.
...
In a dimly lit, shabby bar, two figures sat side by side, their eyes fixed on the flickering television screen.
"Listen, Tomura," came the voice from the monitor. Calm, measured, almost like a teacher instructing his disciple. "Among those competing in the Sports Festival, one of them may very well become your rival."
Only the two men in the bar knew who this shadowed voice belonged to.
"I know, Sensei," Shigaraki muttered.
"Failure is not shameful. What matters is that you learn from it. Every mistake grants insight into the future."
This was Tomura Shigaraki, unkempt, restless, his hand twitching atop the counter. He gave orders to monsters like Nomu, yet here he was, being lectured again.
At his side, Kurogiri's smoky form rippled as he spoke, voice low with regret. "Still, I must admit, Eraser Head and that brat were troublesome. They protected everyone from the Nomu."
"Indeed," Sensei's voice agreed. "Eraser Head's ability was underestimated. Stronger than anticipated."
The truth was undeniable. Though one student had been injured, Aizawa and his class had secured victory. The League's forces had been annihilated. The Nomu, meant to be their trump card, was destroyed.
Only Shigaraki and Kurogiri had escaped, battered and humiliated.
As the conversation continued between Kurogiri and Sensei, Tomura remained silent. His hand scratched at his neck compulsively, his thoughts festering. The brat who killed Nomu, Tsutsumi, burned in his mind. Stronger, more dangerous, even more villainous than him.
Jealousy curdled into rage.
...
"Everyone, be quiet! We're about to enter the stage of the Sports Festival!" Ida reminded them, voice booming.
"You're the loudest one, Ida!"
At this festival, he had already decided he would shine the brightest.
Present Mic's voice exploded through the speakers:"The U.A. Sports Festival! Where the little hero eggs aim for the top, clawing at each other's throats! Let me guess, you miscreants came here to see them, right?! The miracle stars who shrugged off a villain assault with wills of steel! Freshman Hero Course, Class 1-A!!"
The students filed out of the tunnel, the stadium roaring.
"OOOOHHHH!!!"
The cheers shook the air, most of them aimed not at the whole class, but at Tsutsumi leading the group. The others may as well have been background characters.
It was natural, though. Class 1-A had already proven themselves against villains. The other classes? They had nothing to show. Nothing but resentment.
"Are we just their foil…?"
"It's always Class 1-A! What's so special about them?"
"U.A. isn't only about Class 1-A!"
Even whispered complaints carried to Tsutsumi's ears. He ignored them. Not worth his attention.
A sharp crack of a whip silenced the stadium.
Midnight stood on the podium. "Now, the player representative! Tsutsumi Ryoko of Class 1-A! Please come up and say the oath!"
Every gaze locked on him. Calm and collected, he stepped forward, taking the mic from Midnight. "Thank you."
"No problem~!" she purred with a smile.
Looking back at the mass of students and spectators, Tsutsumi spoke evenly. "Good luck."
The crowd froze.
Teachers exchanged awkward looks. Was that supposed to be encouragement or intimidation? With Tsutsumi, it could go either way.
Midnight leaned forward, exasperated. "Don't you want to say something else?"
"Something else?" he repeated flatly.
"Yes! A proper speech! It won't feel complete without one, right?" she urged.
Tsutsumi sighed, muttering under his breath, then raised the mic again.
"Come at me if you dare. I'll destroy you all."
The silence that followed was deafening.