Todoroki Residence - Tsubaki's Room - Evening
Tsubaki sat on his bed, the stack of agency offer papers spread out across his desk. The list was ridiculous in length—four thousand plus offers meant he'd been sorting through paper after paper for the better part of two hours now.
Most of them went straight into the bin.
'A hero agency that's been struggling for two years suddenly wants the Sports Festival winner as their intern,' he thought, tossing another one. 'Yeah. No thanks.'
He remembered what Aizawa had said after school, his tone flat and matter-of-fact.
"Some of these agencies aren't interested in your development. They're interested in the media attention you bring. A struggling agency brings in the Sports Festival winner and suddenly they're getting interviews and coverage. Don't be naive about that."
Harsh but true. Aizawa had a way of cutting straight to the point that Tsubaki actually respected.
He tossed another paper. Then another.
The pile on his desk shrank considerably as he worked through them with cold efficiency. If the agency's name didn't ring any bells, if their hero work seemed unremarkable, if the letter felt more like a PR pitch than genuine interest in his growth bin.
Then there was one offer he didn't even bother reading.
Endeavor's agency.
He saw the letterhead, recognized the logo immediately, and dropped it in the bin without a second thought. Didn't even unfold it.
'No,' he thought simply. 'Not a chance.'
He was done building himself up in his father's shadow. Done measuring himself against Shoto for Endeavor's benefit. The Sports Festival had been his proof of that. Whatever was in that letter he could guess it was either a manipulation tactic or some backhanded acknowledgment but that didn't matter to him.
Moving on.
He leaned back in his chair and looked at the four names he'd set aside.
Best Jeanist. Ryukyu. Edgeshot. Hawks.
All of them were legitimate, top-tier choices.
'Best Jeanist is number Four,' Tsubaki thought, picking up the letter. 'His agency is one of the most professional in the country. Discipline, technique, public image he's known for producing well-rounded heroes.'
He set it down and picked up the next.
'Ryukyu. Dragon quirk. Top ten hero, excellent at large-scale villain response. Her agency has a strong track record with quirk-heavy students.'
Both were excellent options. The kind of agencies that would genuinely improve him, give him real experience, not just parade him in front of cameras.
'Edgeshot.' He looked at the third letter. 'Number five hero. Quirk is completely different from mine but his combat skill and hero instincts are exceptional. Learning from someone whose strength comes from a totally different discipline would be useful.'
He set it down.
'And Hawks.' He almost smiled picking up the last letter. 'Number three. Youngest hero in the top ten. His agency sent a surprisingly casual letter compared to the others. Just said—'
"Heard you won the festival. Impressive stuff. If you want to learn from the best, drop by. We'll figure it out from there."
That was the entire letter.
No formal pitch. No list of benefits. Just Hawks being Hawks apparently.
'He's fast, strategic, and clearly thinks about hero work differently from most. That could be interesting.'
Tsubaki set all four letters down and stared at them.
Any of them would have been a smart choice. Any of them would have given him excellent training and valuable experience.
But then there was the fifth offer. The one Aizawa had pulled him aside about after class.
Flashback - After School
Aizawa had waited until the rest of the class filed out before speaking.
"Todoroki. There's one offer I didn't include in your stack."
Tsubaki had stopped. "Why not?"
"Because it's unconventional enough that I wanted to tell you about it separately." Aizawa's expression was, as always, unreadable. "You're the first student she's ever offered an internship to. In fact, offering an internship at all is completely out of character for her."
That had gotten Tsubaki's attention.
"Who is it?"
"Mirko."
Tsubaki had blinked. "The Rabbit Hero?"
"Ranked as the number six hero. She's a Solo hero. No agency, no sidekicks, no interns. She's done this work alone since she went pro." Aizawa handed him the letter. "Principal Nezu taught her during her time at UA. That's the only connection I can think of for why she'd reach out. But the offer is real."
Tsubaki had stared at the letter for a moment.
"Why me?"
"Don't know," Aizawa said flatly. "But I figured you should make an informed choice. That's all."
Back to the Present
Tsubaki turned Mirko's letter over in his hands.
It was short. Even shorter than Hawks' letter, which he'd thought couldn't be beaten for brevity.
"I watched the festival. You've got something. Come train with me if you're serious about getting stronger. Fair warning I don't go easy on anyone."
No agency address. Just a contact number at the bottom.
'She doesn't take interns,' Tsubaki thought. 'Doesn't work with sidekicks. Doesn't ask for help. She's known for being completely self-sufficient.'
He knew Mirko's reputation. Most hero students did. The Rabbit Hero was famous for her absolute physical strength, her insane combat instincts, and her complete refusal to operate with anyone else.
'She's ranked number six. Solo. No team. No backup. And she still consistently ranks in the top ten on pure results.'
He'd been thinking lately about his own development. His quirk control had improved dramatically. Arctic Judgement had proven he could create genuinely devastating attacks.
But his body his physical fighting ability was still catching up. His grandfather had given him a foundation in martial arts during the Sports Festival preparation, but it was still rough. Basic.
'Mirko doesn't have an ice quirk. Doesn't have range attacks or constructs or cryokinesis. She wins on pure physical ability and combat instincts. Learning from her would push my body in ways none of the other agencies would.'
He set the letter down and leaned back, staring at the ceiling.
'Best Jeanist would make me more well rounded. Ryukyu would improve my large-scale quirk usage. Edgeshot would sharpen my combat awareness. Hawks would push my strategic thinking.'
He turned his head to look at Mirko's letter again.
'Mirko would break me down and rebuild me. Pure and simple.'
And there was something else.
'She's number six. Solo. No team. And she still beats heroes who have agencies and sidekicks and backup. That tells me something about her approach that if you're strong enough, sharp enough, you don't need to rely on anyone else.'
He sat up, picking up the letter again.
'There's also the attention factor. The Sports Festival winner choosing the one hero known for never taking interns? The first intern she's ever accepted?'
He almost smiled.
'How else do you make a splash than by being the first intern of a solo hero who everyone knows works alone?'
That thought solidified something.
He reached for his phone.
His mind was made up.
'Mirko.'
Not because of the prestige. Not because of the attention. But because she was the most unconventional choice, and unconventional was exactly what his development needed right now.
His quirk was already exceptional the Sports Festival had proven that. What he needed now was to build the physical foundation to match it. To become a complete hero, not just an impressive one.
He dialed the number at the bottom of the letter.
It rang twice.
"Yeah?" The voice was direct, casual, completely unfazed.
"This is Todoroki Tsubaki," he said. "From UA's hero course. You sent me an internship offer."
A short pause, then what sounded like the faintest hint of amusement.
"About time you called. I was starting to think you'd gone with the boring option."
'She was waiting to see what I'd choose.'
"When do I start?" Tsubaki asked.
Another pause.
"Next Monday. 5 AM. Don't be late."
The line went dead.
Tsubaki stared at his phone for a moment.
Then he set it down, leaned back on his bed, and looked at the ceiling.
'5 AM,' he thought.
'This is going to be brutal.'
But despite that, he felt good about the decision. Right about it. Like he'd chosen the path that would push him furthest, challenge him most, and shape him into something closer to the hero he intended to become.
He'd started from sub-zero.
He had no intention of stopping now.
To Be Continued...