"Kuro, what kind of scores are you getting right now?"
The question hit without warning.
Kuro tried to dodge it, but Shinso Hitoshi didn't let it go. Faced with the pressure, Kuro covered his face.
"You're serious?"
"If you're asking about U.A., then I need to know where you stand academically."
"No, no—I'm not planning to go there," Kuro said quickly. "I was just asking."
That wasn't entirely true.
He didn't intend to enroll at U.A.
He just wanted to take the entrance exam.
To see it for himself.
To stand where his parents once had.
U.A. High School wasn't open to the public. Even on open days, visitors barely got past the front gates.
The entrance exam was the only real way in.
"So," Shinso said again, "what are your scores like?"
"…They're okay."
Kuro gave a slightly inflated number.
There was a pause.
Then Shinso sighed.
"That's risky. If you keep slacking off, you might not even get into your third choice."
"Stop!" Kuro snapped, his whole body tensing. "Let's not talk about grades."
"Fine. I'm going to study."
The call ended.
Just like that.
Kuro stared at his phone for a moment before setting it down. He sat at his desk, opened his textbooks, and looked at the pages.
None of it made sense.
Like trying to read a language he didn't understand.
"…It's just studying," he muttered. "I can do this."
Fifteen minutes later, he was already downstairs.
"Sister Emi! Are you going out to buy something?"
"You should be studying," Fujita Emi said, mixing ingredients in a bowl. She checked the kitchen again and frowned. "Did I run out of soy sauce?"
Without it, dinner wouldn't taste right.
"I'll go get it," Kuro said immediately.
It wasn't that he didn't want to study.
He just couldn't focus.
Every time he sat down, he ended up staring at the computer, tempted to check the hero forums again.
Emi hesitated, then told him the brand she needed and reminded him to be careful.
The fastest route to the store passed through the waterfront park.
By the time Kuro reached the park, it was already dark.
Streetlights flickered on.
The tide rolled in against the shore.
The beach was still littered with garbage.
And there—
Someone was still there.
Kuro slowed to a stop.
It was the same boy he had seen before.
Midoriya Izuku.
He wore a dirty tank top, his arms shaking as he carried a massive piece of scrap metal across the sand.
So he hadn't stopped.
Kuro watched him for a moment.
He recognized him now.
A classmate.
Also the boy from that incident on TV.
The one people called quirkless.
Midoriya stumbled forward, breathing heavily. His body was already at its limit.
But he kept going.
Kuro frowned.
Everyone had a limit.
Push too far, and the damage didn't go away.
It built up.
"Hey," Kuro called out. "You need to stop. Your body's not going to hold up."
Midoriya paused—
Then kept moving.
Not enough.
Still not enough.
If he wanted to meet expectations, to prove himself, to keep up with the person he admired—
This wasn't enough.
Kuro watched him for a second longer.
Then turned away.
He still had something to buy.
They weren't close.
It wasn't his problem.
The wind carried the smell of salt and waste.
The beach stretched out, quiet except for the sound of the waves.
Midoriya's footsteps dragged through the sand, uneven and heavy.
His vision blurred.
His body was close to giving out.
"Are you trying to collapse out here?" a voice said suddenly.
A plastic bag was shoved into his hands.
"Water."
Midoriya blinked.
The person in front of him was just a dark silhouette under the streetlights. His voice sounded impatient.
"Don't push yourself this far. Whatever you're doing, take it one step at a time."
"…Thank you," Midoriya said.
The other person didn't respond.
Didn't even slow down.
He got back on his bike and rode off.
Midoriya took a breath.
Then another.
Energy returned to his limbs.
He had to keep going.
For himself.
For All Might.
For people like that.
There were still good people in the world.
He opened the bag.
Inside was a bottle of water.
And a bottle of soy sauce.
Back at Nekohoshi Orphanage—
"Kuro, where's the soy sauce?"
"…."
Kuro froze.
Was it too late to go back?
Why had he bought water?
This had nothing to do with him.
"…We'll just have to make something else," Emi said.
"Sister Emi, I—"
"Kuro. You're cooking."
Kuro stepped into the kitchen like he was heading into battle.