"Ah, Sensei. You're alright!" Nora said, his voice bright as he looked at Aizawa-sensei.
"Nekoyama…" Aizawa wasn't sure what to say. No—speechless was the better word.
At the moment, the two of them lay on adjacent emergency beds, being wheeled toward the school infirmary.
Aizawa himself was a mess. From head to toe, there wasn't a single spot left unscratched. However, the damage inside was far less severe than what showed on the surface. He knew how to take a hit properly, and the birdman hadn't lingered long over him. Once Aizawa was no longer able to move, the enemy's attention had quickly shifted to his student instead.
That student—Nekoyama Nora, who had fought beside him—was in bad condition. One of his arms dangled uselessly, as if only a thin layer of skin still connected it to the rest of his body. The other was so grotesquely swollen that one might mistake it for his thigh rather than his arm. The rest of his body bore its share of wounds as well, but it was his hands that had taken the brunt of the damage and drawn the most attention.
There was actually a third bed beside them.
"Are you okay, Midoriya?" Nora turned his head toward it. Midoriya lay there with a broken leg—broken was putting it lightly. It was so mangled it looked more like jelly than bone.
How the hell did you end up like that? Nora thought. Did a Road Roller! run you over or something?
He waited, but no response came. Only then did he notice Midoriya's vacant stare—his eyes were open, yet unfocused, the whites showing like a ghost's. He had already lost consciousness from the pain. As always, once the adrenaline faded, the agony came crashing in.
…
The moment All Might appeared, everything ended.
The birdman was defeated. The hand-man and his accomplice, Kurogiri, retreated, leaving the remaining thugs to scatter and flee.
It was as if all their struggles—Aizawa-sensei's, Thirteen-sensei's, and Nora's—had amounted to nothing. All Might arrived and resolved everything in an instant.
That was what it meant to be the Symbol of Peace.
Despite how hard the fight had been for him this time, people only saw the result. He came, he won, and that was all that mattered. Another victory added to his legend—accepted, remembered briefly, and then quietly forgotten as just one more of his achievements.
The incident passed like a breeze.
The informed parents of Class 1-A rushed to the academy in a panic, but once they realized their children were unharmed, they let out collective sighs of relief.
Nora's injuries, however, were far too severe to be healed in a single session.
His father—who looked like the Hulk if his skin were bright green—stomped onto the academy grounds alongside his mother.
Thankfully, nothing extraordinary followed. Still, the way they stared at the academy carried a distinctly unpleasant edge.
In the end, what could a small breeze do to a giant tree like U.A.? The school remained unfazed.
To contain the incident, the academy resumed its normal schedule almost immediately, as if nothing had happened, silently declaring it a trivial affair.
It would have been a different story if even one student had lost their life—but that wasn't the case. The only two injured students had both expressed their desire to avoid public attention, and the incident was quietly swept under the rug.
…
"Nekoyama-san!"
"Nora!"
The voices of his classmates rang out the moment Nora stepped into the classroom. His hands were still wrapped in bandages, though they no longer interfered with his daily life.
"Hey, guys." He gave them a casual wave before asking, "You all doing okay?"
"Come on, man—that's our line!" Kirishima said, striding over and slapping him on the back.
"You're no better," Nora shot back, returning the slap. "I heard what you guys pulled off too. You're insane! I couldn't even hold down one of its legs!"
"HAHAHA!"
The laughter spread quickly, contagious enough that the rest of the class joined in.
sliiide.
The moment the door opened, everyone's attention shifted toward it unconsciously. Silence settled over the classroom as they waited to see who the new arrival was.
"…Mummy?"
The comment earned an immediate and crushing glare from Aizawa-sensei.
As the homeroom gradually returned to normal, Nora found his thoughts drifting back to the conversation he'd had with his parents.
"Nora, are you sure you want to continue?"
As usual, they were having dinner together, but Nora's eating pace was noticeably slower than normal. No one needed to ask why—the bandages wrapped around his hands made the reason obvious. It was his mother who finally broke the silence.
"Didn't you say you wanted to be an influencer?" she added. "Or was it a YouTuber?"
His father quickly joined her side. Even he seemed shaken by their son's condition after only a few months since enrolling.
"Un… it's not a good idea to gamble my life on a single path," Nora replied. If he couldn't become a capable influencer—or YouTuber—he needed a backup plan. "A certain—"
"—Octopus-sensei said an assassin always needs a second plan, right?"
Both of his parents cut in at the exact same time.
"Oh, haha…" Nora could only laugh, half-embarrassed by their oddly synchronized response.
"Haa…" His mother sighed. "Isn't that like choosing between becoming a president or ending up a bum?" She shook her head in resignation, his father nodding along beside her.
"Wha—! A hero is not a bum!" Nora protested. "That kind of narrow thinking could kill the future of society!"
Bonk!
"It's the other way around!" Mother's bonk struck true, as reliable as ever.
***
"…ra."
"Nora!"
"Are you even listening?"
"Hah?" Nora snapped back to reality, blinking as he took in the classmates around him—Kirishima, Ashido, Hagakure, and the others. He had absolutely no recollection of what they'd been talking about, only that they were staring at him in silence, waiting for an answer.
"…What are we talking about?"
"Geez! How can you tune us out like that?" Ashido laughed, smacking him on the back. "Come on, we're talking about the Sports Festival!"
"Yeah!" Kirishima added.
"Oh! Sorry. I guess I'll just take it seriously like I always do," Nora replied.
Instead of answering, they exchanged oddly meaningful looks.
"…What?" Nora asked, confused by their stares.
"Nekoyama-san," Yaoyorozu spoke up.
"Just call me Nora—it's fine," he said. She seemed ready to explain their strange reaction.
"Alright, then you can call me Momo too." When Nora nodded, she hesitated before adding, "By the way, Nora-san… are you sure you always take class seriously?"
She looked guilty, as if she'd just asked something terribly rude.
"…?"
Nora blinked. Why would they think otherwise?
"What do you mean? I'm planning to get my hero license too. Of course I'm always serious."
"..."
Silence fell over the group.
A few seconds later, Nora understood the meaning behind it.
"Hey!" he protested.
"Hahaha—sorry!" They all burst out laughing together.
"Move!"
The sudden shout startled them. They turned to see Bakugo stuck near the classroom exit, blocked by students in his way.
"Who are they?"
No one was sure who said it, but the entire Class 1-A shared the same thought. Some students began making loud declarations about Class 1-B—or even the general studies course—but like a passing spring breeze, no one truly cared.
Just as they didn't care about our situation, Class 1-A didn't really care about theirs either.
That was simply human nature.
You think everyone is watching you, judging you, making you too embarrassed to act—but in reality, everyone is far too busy with their own lives to pay that much attention.