Hours of wandering through identical alleys, and one too many silent arguments with a piece of paper that refused to cooperate, finally brought Zoro to a stop. Whatever he felt in that moment looked closer to irritation than exhaustion.
He looked up at an imposing wooden building shaped like an old traditional dojo. The emblem hanging above its entrance showed a samurai helmet crossed with two blades, a mark of the place's weight and history.
"Finally. Found it." He muttered it low, almost to himself.
He pushed the heavy sliding door and it groaned open with a faint creak. Inside, a wide hall greeted him, thick with the smell of clean tatami mats and old wood. At the far end, an elderly man sat in perfect seiza posture, carrying himself with total composure. He wore light traditional armor over a dark kimono, his white hair tied back tightly. This was the veteran hero Yoroimusha, ranked ninth among pro heroes.
The old man didn't open his eyes, but his calm voice carried a sharp, metallic edge. "You're two minutes late, three sword man."
Zoro's brow creased slightly. He let his hand rest lazily on Yubashiri's hilt. "Got a little lost."
Yoroimusha's eyes snapped open. His gaze cut through Zoro's expression like a blade. A heavy silence stretched for a beat before the old man's mouth pulled into something close to a smile.
"It's been a while since your practical exam, before the training camp. Yubashiri looks comfortable in your hand now."
Yoroimusha rose slowly and picked up a wooden training sword from a nearby rack, pointing it toward Zoro. "Show me what you've learned in all those brutal fights you've been through. No need for a written report. Your blade will tell me everything."
Zoro didn't hesitate. He drew Wado Ichimonji first, running Armament Haki over it until a glossy black layer covered the steel, then set it between his teeth. In one smooth, simultaneous motion, he gripped Yubashiri in his right hand and pulled Sandai Kitetsu from its sheath with his left, coating both at once with total ease. His breathing stayed even. None of the strain that used to hit him in the past showed on his face.
Zoro moved and struck.
Wood met steel in a heavy crack that shook the dojo's walls. Yoroimusha dodged the first blow with a flexibility that had no business belonging to a man his age, then answered with a fast strike aimed at Zoro's shoulder. The young swordsman leaned aside and slipped past it by a hair, reading the old man's blade through an Observation Haki that had clearly sharpened a great deal.
They both stepped back.
"Impressive." Yoroimusha's eyes gleamed with approval. "Your Observation Haki's gotten sharper, and you've mastered Armament Haki well enough to coat all three swords at once. But..."
The old man narrowed his eyes, trying to place the strange sensation that had just settled over him. Somewhere in the exchange, he'd felt something deep and heavy buried inside this young man. A dormant power, waiting for something to wake it, as though even Zoro himself didn't yet know how to unlock it or control it. Yoroimusha kept the thought to himself, his calm expression giving nothing away.
He returned the wooden sword to its rack. "That's enough. I know what I needed to know. You're ready."
Elsewhere, Sir Nighteye lifted Midoriya's file off his desk, stamped the field work paperwork with the agency's seal in complete silence, then finally raised his eyes toward him from behind his glasses. His look was cold, sharp, carrying not a trace of courtesy.
"Don't misread my decision." His voice stayed level. "Accepting you doesn't mean I recognize you as All Might's successor."
Midoriya froze where he stood. Mirio and Bubble Girl traded a quiet glance.
Sir Nighteye continued without a shift in tone. "I let you into my agency because I want you to see the truth for yourself. I want you to understand that Mirio Togata is the one who should have inherited One For All."
Midoriya's fist closed silently, but no words came out of him.
"I'll be watching you closely." Sir Nighteye added. "And I'll witness your failure myself. That's when you'll understand exactly how big the gap between you and Mirio really is, and All Might will realize his choice was a mistake too."
Silence settled over the office for a few seconds. Midoriya stayed standing exactly where he was, his eyes never leaving the man seated in front of him. He didn't defend himself. He didn't push back on any of it. But he felt the weight of that challenge settle deep inside him, like a promise he'd just made to himself, to prove to everyone, Sir Nighteye most of all, that All Might's choice hadn't been a mistake.
Evening finally fell over the Class 1-A dorm, and the common room slowly filled up with students returning from their first day of field work. Exhaustion showed clearly on some of their faces, but the excitement underneath it was louder, as though each of them had come back carrying a fresh sense of standing one step closer to the real world of heroes.
Midoriya sat near the couch, talking in bursts of excitement about his first experience, while Zoro sat quietly in a corner, cleaning Wado Ichimonji's blade with focused silence, as though he hadn't left the mindset of combat since that morning.
"So how was it, Midoriya?" Uraraka asked, leaning toward him with curiosity. "Is Sir Nighteye really as scary as they say?"
Midoriya swallowed and gave a light nod. "It was really different. I didn't expect the first day to be that hard."
From the other side, Kirishima lifted his head with interest and turned toward Zoro. "What about you, Zoro? Did you actually start working with that old samurai guy?"
Without lifting his eyes off his sword, Zoro answered in his usual flat tone. "An old man who knows how to hold a sword. That's enough for me."
Kaminari laughed lightly, and the rest of the students fell into their usual buzz of questions about which agencies they'd joined and what kind of work awaited them tomorrow.
Before the conversation could pick up any further, the dorm door opened and Aizawa walked in with his quiet steps, his expression carrying its usual lack of warmth.
The room quieted down gradually, and everyone turned toward him.
He spoke low, direct, no lead in at all.
"Tokoyami."
Tokoyami's head shot up.
"Your offer came through." He paused a beat, then added, "Hawks agency accepted you."
Tokoyami's eyes widened, a flash of surprise crossing his face before he tried to mask his excitement. Zoro and the rest of the class turned to look at him with interest too, since the name Hawks alone was enough to grab everyone's attention.
Aizawa's gaze shifted to Kirishima. "Kirishima. You're heading to Fat Gum."
Kirishima practically jumped out of his seat. "Fat Gum? Seriously?!"
Aizawa gave a single nod. "Yes. Don't waste it."
He looked next toward Uraraka and Tsuyu together. "You two will be working with Ryukyu."
Uraraka and Tsuyu exchanged a quick look, excitement lighting up both their eyes instantly.
"Ryukyu..." Uraraka whispered it, barely believing it.
"That's amazing!" Tsuyu said it in her usual flat tone, but her smile gave away more than enough excitement.
The whole room erupted into motion.
Students who hadn't heard their names yet started exchanging glances, some of them growing more restless, like they'd all just been handed a fresh dose of the same dream. Some began talking eagerly about hunting down the right agency, about wanting to catch up with their classmates, about how they couldn't afford to fall further behind.
But through all of it, Bakugo wasn't acting like himself.
He stood near the wall, watching the whole scene in silence, Todoroki standing a short distance from him.
Every name that got called, every reaction that followed it, added more weight pressing into his chest.
Todoroki turned toward him and said flatly, "You're still mad about being left out of the selection."
"Shut up!" Bakugo snapped instantly, his eyes burning. "Everyone's moving forward and I'm still stuck here doing damn training drills!"
Todoroki didn't respond right away, just gave him a level look, which only made Bakugo boil over harder.
"Don't stare at me with that cold look of yours!" Bakugo growled. "I'll lose it and blow something up!"
In the opposite corner, Zoro watched the whole scene without a word. He glanced up and noted how the students still waiting for their names had started buzzing with more energy, while Bakugo stayed trapped between his own anger and the drive to keep moving forward.
Aizawa stood there a moment longer, then finished in his usual tone. "Don't drag your feet getting ready. Every one of you will start where you're supposed to start."
He didn't add anything else, and left the way he'd come in, without any fuss, as though his words alone carried enough weight to shake the whole room.
The students kept talking, louder now than before.
The next morning, inside Yoroimusha's agency, Zoro stepped out of the changing room wearing his official hero costume for the first time within the agency's walls. A deep black kimono, a dark red haramaki wrapped tight around his waist, all three swords fastened securely at his right hip. The look carried the presence of a true swordsman and a fighter who showed no mercy.
Yoroimusha studied him for a few seconds, a clear flicker of approval crossing his weathered face. "An outfit worthy of a real warrior. The presence alone commands respect before the blade's even drawn." He gave a nod of acknowledgment. "Today's your first field outing with me. We're not chasing down petty thieves on the main streets. We're going on a sweep through the Shadow District."
Zoro's brow creased with interest. "Shadow District?"
Yoroimusha answered while fastening his samurai helmet in place. "A place the spotlight of famous heroes usually never reaches. Out there, your fame and your ranking don't matter. What matters is your instinct, and whether you can keep yourself and the people around you alive."
They stepped out into the quiet city streets in the early morning light, heading toward narrow, dim alleys wedged between old, crumbling buildings. The air here hung heavy, thick with rust and damp.
Yoroimusha spoke in a low voice as they walked side by side. "There's an extra reason I brought you to this exact spot. For years now, I've been hunting for a legendary blade that went missing."
Zoro kept his eyes on him from the corner of his gaze and didn't interrupt.
The old man kept talking, his focus locked on the road ahead. "That sword vanished without a trace. I've gone up against plenty of yakuza gangs, searched every corner of the underworld looking for it, and gotten nowhere. Just recently, I got reliable information that the sword ended up in the hands of a specific yakuza organization quietly rebuilding its strength. We're going to try tracing them here and gathering more details."
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