"You, next."
The Shiketsu High examiner selected another candidate.
The new student took a deep breath. Then, suddenly, with a plume of rising smoke, they appeared on stage.
The new student had purple hair and eyes. The colour matched the plume of smoke.
Takeru watched his oponent closely. The two stood opposite each other, moving slowly in circular motion, always maintaining a few feet of distance.
What kind of quirk is that? Teleportation?
The whole cavern was silent. The format of the test wasn't fair, the candidates all knew that they had to watch the battle closely in order to seize an advantage over their oponnent.
The purple-eyed student vanished. The movement wasn't one that could be tracked. They didn't run or jump, they simply appeared in the space next to Takeru. The transition from one place to another was almost instantaneous.
There were many important elements that decided battles. The fighter who could react the fastest would always have an edge over their opponent.
The purple-eyed student appeared at Takeru's side without warning. The element of surprise that the student had only just seized was swiftly lost as a fist flew towards his nose.
The plume of smoke rose again. Takeru's fist hit empty air. The purple smoke shimmered in the cavern's artificial lightning.
The smoke enveloped Takeru. He could feel it against his skin, it itched uncomfortably. The area of the stage covered by the smoke was small. But within the purple cloud, Takeru discovered that his vision was blocked completely. It was as if the whole world was only made up of that shimmering purple smoke.
The Shiketsu High's examiner's eyebrow twitched impercetibly.
Restricting vision. A viable tactic. She thought to herself.
The purple-haired student appeared on the edge of the stage. The corners of his lips curled into a smirk.
The purple smoke hid Takeru's figure. The crowd could only see a faint outline of his body. No one saw Takeru's eyes slowly close.
The sensory information recieved through sight, sound and touch, allowed people to percieve and interact with the world. The purple-haired student had deprived Takeru of his sight. So he would use a different sense instead.
Takeru's quirk functioned similiar to a subconscious. At any one time, it was typically reacting to multiple different stimulus. The constant accumulation of steady, minor improvements was what had lead to his current strength.
From the day his quirk awakened, it had been minutely improving the acuteness of Takeru's senses. He could hear a fly buzzing from a hundred meters away. The loss of his sight was unwelcome, but far from debilitating.
The purple smoke started to move. This time, it wasn't the sudden spacial shift of the purple-haired boy's quirk. The smoke around Takeru clung to him like a living thing. The edges of the smoke trailed behind him like a cape as he charged across the stage.
Masaru watched his student charge fearlessly towards his opponent. The lack of visibility seemed irrelevant. Masaru's eyes flashed with satisfaction.
The purple-haired student snarled angrily. With a burst of purple smoke he appeared without warning behind his opponent. The purple-haired student drew back his shoulder and balled his fist.
"Shit!" The purple-haired student cursed.
Takeru's fist flew towards his opponent. The whoosh of smoke rising behind him was all he needed to determine the student's position.
The fist growing rapidly larger in his vision forced the purple-haired student to teleport again. His fists were clenched tightly at his sides. The edges of his knuckles were white. The purple-haired student's anger had nowhere to go.
The cat and mouse chase continued on the stage. The purple-haired student came and went like a specter. His opponent had no way of restricting his mobility. This didn't mean that the purple-haired student was winning.
The Shiketsu high examiner's attitude towards the ordinary-looking black haired student was changing gradually as the fight went on. From the moment the fight started, the black-haired student had been charging from one end of the stage to another like a wild beast.
In comparison, the purple-haired student's teleportation seemed instant and effortless. The tremors in the hands of Takeru's opponents had appeared around the mark of the third minute. These tremors were quickly beginning to worsen.
The purple-haired student felt as if a ball of anxiety was jumping about in his stomach. No matter what he did, or how creatively he tried to land a blow on his opponent, nothing worked, "Just give up!"
The purple-haired student's scream heralded the match's conclusion. The plumes of smoke that had once been bright and shimmering were now thin and dull. The purple-haired student appeared suddenly at Takeru's side, but his teleportation was no longer precise. He tumbled through the air without control.
The smoke's effect on Takeru's vision had diminished gradually as his opponent's exhaustion grew. With a final hiss, it vanished completely. Takeru finally got to see the face of his opponent.
There was no ceremonial kindness. Takeru didn't offer his opponent the chance to surrender. He threw out a violent heavy punch that struck the purple-haired boy squarely in the chest.
The rampaging force behind the punch hurled the purple-haired student off the stage like a ragdoll. The student's eyes rolled like marbles. He was unconscious before hitting the ground.
The Shiketsu High examiner imprinted the appearance of the ordinary-looking black-haired boy in her mind. The ability to maintain such a violent outpouring of force for more than ten minutes was worthy of her remembering his face.
The safety of the public was maintained by more than just the heroes they saw on TV. Not all candidates were eligible to enter esteemed institutions like U.A or Shiketsu. The government had other departments that could offer non-eligible candidates the opportunity to utilise their quirk.
The Shiketsu examiner looked across to the reccomender who had brought along the boy. There was something familiar about the reccomender's face. It took less than a second for her to place him.
'The Iron Warrior. A mid-tier hero. His student's strength looks like it's already suprassing him. He's not been in the news for years. That look in his eyes says he's not given up the job. He must've gone underground.' The Shiketsu examiner thought to herself.
The black-haired boy was too young to be admitted into Shiketsu. The Iron Warrior had clearly brought along his protege to broaden his perspective.
The Shiketsu examiner's lips curled, just a fraction, 'He wants his student to see what a real monster can do. Fine. Let's let the boy see what it means to be an ant next to giants.'
"You, next."
The bony finger once again selected a new opponent.
She's strong.
Takeru knew it immediately. He felt his quirk stir in response. The examiner had selected a girl with long white hair. Her face didn't have the same softness of youth as his. She was older than him.
The icy candidate was tall and willowy. She was dressed in a simple kamishimo. The hilt of a katana protruted at her waist. The blade's sheath was decorated with beautiful snowflake patterns. The girl's skin was as pale as silk.
"You will lose."
Her voice was devoid of any emotion. There was no gloating or arrogance in her words. Takeru knew, without question, that she was right.
The willowy girl raised her foot. The sole of her shoe was less than an inch of the ground. She brought it down.
The ice spread across the stage in an instant. It climbed up Takeru's legs and to his waist. The change happened too suddenly for him to react.
Takeru stomped forcefully on the golden stage. The layer of ice around his shoes and legs was already more than two inches thick. It shattered and fell to the stage. The freezing fragments bounced the light in every direction.
The willowy girl didn't blink. She slowly lifted the palm of her left hand up to her lips. Then she blew gently.
The temperature plummetted. The blizzard of ice and snow swept violently across the stage. The howling icy air forced Takeru back, the golden stage was too hard for him to dig in and find any purchase.
The cold was bone-chilling. The cold-resistance that Takeru had built up from snowy winters offered only a small comfort.
Takeru's quirk stirred again. This time with single-minded efficiency. The cold stimulus was unprecedently intense. The blood in his body began to circulate at rapid speed. The cold that had crept into his bones was pushed back by a small fraction.
Takeru shouted loudly. The sound gave him strength. The muscles in his legs tensed like steel cables. With a resounding bang he pushed off the stage and towards his opponent.
The willowy girl's cold eyes remained frigid and apathetic pools. She drew her blade unhurriedly. The katana's edge was impossibly thin and dazzling. Just by looking at it, the crowd felt as if they were standing on nails.
The willowy girl raised the blade. Then, like an executioner dealing the final blow, she lowered it.
For a moment, nothing changed. Then, the stage became a world of frost and ice. Howling winds scattered snowflakes high into the air. They fell gracefully onto the heads of the spectators.
Takeru was encased completely in a block of ice. He couldn't move. His eyes were frozen in place, open, staring at his opponent.
His quirk buzzed furiously. His body was trying to react, to overcome. But the time was much too short. With the intensity of the icy stimulus, it might've only taken days for Takeru to build sufficient resistance.
"The match is over. Please remove him from the stage." The Shiketsu High examiner declared the match's verdict.
Masaru nodded solemnly. He leaped onto the stage with a single powerful bound. In flight, a pair of sharp knuckle-dusters appeared on his hands.
Masaru threw a violent punch at the enormous block of ice. The blow only managed to chip away a tiny fraction of the block. The time he would need to free his student would be measured in hours.
The heroes who stood at the top of society wielded power like gods. The disparity between himself and those who were truly strong weighed on Masaru's shoulders like a mountain. The helplessness of the weak tightened around his heart.
The Shiketsu high examiner sighed. Her wings unfurled. She beat them just once. The force stirred up the frosty air in the underground cavern.
The examiner's boots touched down on the stage. She walked slowly up to the black-haired student. The ice that encased him was more than two meters thick. The cold radiating from it was immense. The chilling temperature would've given a quirkless human severe frostbite in seconds. The next stage would be death.
The examiner's forked tongue hissed. She spat out a glob of virulent yellow. The spit hit the enormous block.
The sound was almost like screaming. The ice hissed and cracked furiously. The small glob of spit scorched through the pristine whiteness. Within seconds, a large, uneven opening appeared in the ice block.
The Shiketsu High examiner had already given her assistance. Masaru stepped forwards and struck the ice forcefully with a fierce blow. The corrosive spit had already weakened the ice. Under the violent impacts of successive strikes, it shattered and fell away.
Freed from the icy tomb, Takaru's body fell forwards. The biting chill made his thoughts feel like he was wading through treacle. The signals from his brain to his legs to move failed to reach.
Takaru's fall was stopped mid-way. The pair of burly arms that usually threw punches at him in the ring, now caught and held him.
Masaru bowed respectfully to the examiner. His arm wrapped over Takeru's shoulder and held him steadily. His student's lips were pale and bloodless. Masaru leaped down from the stage and returned to his former position.
The cold had seeped deep into Takaru's body. His blood circulated like thick sludge. His heartbeat was slow and weak. The battle had been a crushing defeat. The girl's apathetic expression hadn't changed throughout the entire match. He was weak.
The next match started. The willowy girl's opponent was visibly trembling before they stepped onto the stage.
Masaru didn't pay the match any attention. Takeru's skin against his felt like he was touching a thick layer of permafrost. He looked at his student's eyes.
The girl's biting cold was a challenge. The fact that the fight was finished didn't matter to Takeru's quirk. It worked fiercely and eagerly in his blood. The temperature of Takeru's internal organs was rising steadily by a few fractions of a centigrade every second.
I lost. It doesn't matter. Next time, I won't lose so easily.
The fire in Takeru's eyes blazed brightly. The state of his body couldn't hide his surging ambition.
Masaru felt pride well up in his chest. His student had lost. That was irrelevant, if Takeru's current strength had been enough to dominate the special reccomendation exam, it would've been a disgrace to the upcoming generation of heroes. Masaru had never expected his student to win.
What mattered wasn't the outcome of the fight. It was whether the defeat could quench Takeru's desire for strength. The burning flame in his student's eyes told Masaru that the boy's tenacity was no less than his own.
With his quirk, Takeru had a chance. As long as he could maintain that hunger for strength, he had a chance to overcome everything the world would throw at him.
'I couldn't stand at the top. But maybe you can.' Masaru thought to himself.