MHA: The Fictional Hero: All Fiction - Chapter 8

It was a classic setup—almost too classic. Every hero, no matter how noble or green, had to face their archenemy sooner or later.

Izuku Midoriya just hadn’t expected his to appear before his first class at U.A. High.

He stood in front of the mirror, jaw tight, brows furrowed in concentration. His reflection stared back, defiant and unforgiving. No matter how many times he tried, no matter how many angles he attacked from… the result was the same.

This was his nemesis. His most persistent rival to date.

The necktie.

And he was losing. Badly.

“Honestly…” came a soft voice from behind, laced with both affection and quiet amusement. “Even if you didn’t inherit his Quirk, you are like your father in some ways.”

Izuku flinched slightly, caught in the act of grappling with the twisted knot of red fabric around his collar. He didn’t need to look to recognize the familiar warmth of his mother’s presence behind him.

Inko Midoriya stepped forward with a small chuckle, her fingers already moving with gentle precision.

“Here, sweetie. Let me. Huh, it’s a bit heavy? Do they use some special Material?”

“Maybe?” Izuku chuckled innocently.

He didn’t resist as she deftly undid the tangled mess he’d created. In just a few practiced motions, the tie was re-tied—smooth, symmetrical, and perfectly in place. Like magic.

“There,” she said, stepping back to admire her handiwork. The U.A. uniform, freshly pressed, finally looked complete.

Izuku’s cheeks turned the faintest shade of pink. “Thanks, Mom.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” she replied, voice full of pride. “This afternoon, I’ll teach you how to do it properly, alright?”

She handed him his bag with both hands, her expression softening. “Now go on, or you’ll be late. You’ve got everything?”

He nodded once, clutching the strap of his bag tightly. “Yeah. I’m good.”

Inko gave a small nod of her own, eyes misting just a little as she looked him over.

“…And Izuku?” Her voice dropped to something gentler, quieter.

He turned to her, curious.

“We’re proud of you. No matter what happens today or any day after.” She smiled, eyes bright. “You look really cool.”

Izuku blinked, heart thudding.

This time, he couldn’t stop the smile tugging at his lips.

“Don’t forget to greet Ochaco and Camie from me! Invite them for Dinner to celebrate your first day!” His Mother called out as he closed the Door behind him.

———

With one hand gripping the metal railing beside him, Izuku Midoriya stared out the window of the bullet train, watching the landscape blur past in streaks of green and grey. Slowly they were closing in to his Final Station—only a five-minute walk from the gates of U.A. University.

He felt it before he saw it.

A slight shift in the atmosphere.

As the train began to slow, the sudden sensation of gravity pulling at him wasn’t what caught his attention—it was something else. His Observation Haki had detected something, even tough he had only a basic grasp of the Ability, he got used to passively sensing presences in his Surrounding. Among the soft, unremarkable presences of the other passengers, one stood out. Stronger. Sharper. Focused.

Yes—he had awakened Observation Haki during training. The old-fashioned way, too: blindfolded, repeatedly attacked, forced to sense the intent behind blows he couldn’t see coming. He had made use of Shadow Clones to awaken it.

Letting one beat him up for weeks.

Like all the powers he copied through his Quirk, the shadow clone jutsu relied on his chakra reserves. After mimicking a character from the Naruto world for the first time, he’d even developed his own chakra network to use the techniques properly.

Back then, he had hoped—naively—that Kurama, the Nine-Tailed Fox sealed within Naruto, might count as part of Naruto’s abilities, and that his Quirk might copy him too. It would have been such a neat little loophole.

It hadn't worked.

Turns out, Kurama counted as more than an ability—he was a character. A separate existence. And unlike with Naruto’s other techniques, that meant no fox, no chakra cloak, no Six Paths power-ups. Just a mountain of knowledge and none of the juice to back it up.

In the end, Izuku could only manage two Shadow Clones at most. Still, that alone had helped immensely with his training and study schedules. And it wasn’t too shabby neither, meaning his Chakra reserves were around the level of an decent Chunin.

His attention snapped back to the present as the train began to glide into the station. The presence he’d sensed earlier was growing clearer. Not quite on par with a Pro Hero, but definitely someone who’d put effort training.

As the doors slid open with a soft hiss, Izuku caught his first glimpse of her.

A girl, around his age, stepped onto the train. She had dusky green hair falling losely below her shoulders, the deeper it gets the wavier they are, long lashes coated lightly with mascara, and sharp, curious eyes that scanned the cramped compartment with visible dismay.

She wore the U.A. High uniform—the female version, of course—and judging by her presence and current nervousness, she was probably a fellow first-year. Likely in the Hero Course too.

She paused at the entrance, hesitating. Every seat on the train was occupied, and even the standing space was getting tight. The overhead railings didn’t seem to be within easy reach for her height either.

Izuku couldn’t help but notice. After all, for most of his life, he hadn’t exactly been tall either. But ever since awakening his Quirk—and likely due to his body adapting to power systems from other universes—his growth had exploded. People from One Piece were notoriously massive, after all.

Now standing at 6'0" (or 182 centimeters), Izuku towered over the average height in Japan. The girl, meanwhile, couldn’t have been taller than 5'2"—pretty normal for a girl her age, but still too short to comfortably reach the rails.

Since the dawn of Quirks, body sizes had begun to vary greatly, forcing Society to accomodate larger People. Which meant Trains had leaned towards bigger sizes even if the average Size of many People hadn’t changed too much from the Pre-Quirk Era.

He hesitated for a moment. Most of the passengers remained rooted in their seats, pretending not to notice. A typical commute. But this… this might be his chance. Maybe he could make another friend before school even started.

Too bad Ochaco and Camie were traveling straight from their hometowns. They’d wanted to spend as much time with their families as possible. Which meant… no teasing. No weird flirtatious energy. No Camie chaos.

Just a chance to be normal.

Taking a deep breath, Izuku gathered his courage.

“H-hi, do you want my spot? I can hold onto the overhead rail,” he offered awkwardly, scooting aside to make room.

And just like that, he realized something critical.

This was the first time he had ever approached a girl.

Camie had talked to him first. So had Ochaco after saving him from face planting onto the ground. This was new territory.

The girl blinked, clearly surprised. Her eyes flicked to his U.A. uniform, then back up to his face.

“Oh! For a second I thought you were trying to hit on me,” she said with a teasing chuckle.

Izuku froze.

‘Oh no. Not another one!’ The teasing tone—it was way too familiar. That was Camie-level danger.

“Tokage Setsuna. Nice to meet you, Green~!” she grinned playfully, stepping into the space he’d made for her.

Then her eyes drifted to his bicep, currently flexed as he gripped the overhead railing.

“Huh. You hide a lot of muscle under that uniform~”

Danger level rising.

‘Abort mission! Abort! She's Camie 2.0!’ Izuku’s mind screamed in panic, but his mouth just defaulted to autopilot.

“Midoriya Izuku… Class 1-A,” he said stiffly, offering a polite nod.

Tokage’s grin only grew wider. “Oho~ So we’re rivals, huh? I’m in Class 1-B!”

Izuku sighed quietly in relief. Different class. Good. Safer. Probably. He wouldn’t survive two Camies in his Class.

Still, a chill crept down his spine for no reason he could explain.

Then Setsuna's eyes lit up, her expression morphing from curious to full-blown shock. “Wait. Midoriya Izuku? As in the Midoriya Izuku? The guy who scored the highest on the normal entrance exam? First place?!”

“Yeah, that’s me,” he replied casually, glad for the change in topic. Anything that wasn’t about his muscles.

“Why ‘normal’ though?” he added, tilting his head. “Is there a… not normal entrance exam?”

“There’s the Recommended Exam. That’s how I got in,” she explained. But her voice wavered a little near the end.

Izuku immediately perked up. “That’s so cool! A recommended Student? You must have an awesome Quirk!”

And just like that, it happened.

Setsuna blinked in surprise as a notebook practically manifested in Izuku’s hands, open and ready.

His eyes gleamed. His entire posture shifted.

Analysis Mode: Activated.

“Where did that come from?” she asked, brows raised in amusement.

“My Quirk is called Lizard Tail Splitter,” she finally said cowering in front of his intense gaze.

Izuku leaned forward, pen ready, his expression deadly serious.

“Tell me everything.”

———

“1-A… Where is 1-A?” Izuku muttered, squinting at the hallway signs as he wandered through the sprawling main building of U.A. High. The scale of the campus was far beyond anything he'd imagined—polished floors, towering ceilings, endless corridors branching off like a maze.

Tokage had split off earlier—her classroom was apparently on a different floor—and despite the vague directions given at the entrance, Izuku was already hopelessly turned around.

He glanced left, then right, brow furrowed. Wasn’t it supposed to be near the central staircase?

“Yo, you lookin’ real lost there, newbie! Need some help?” a cheerful voice called out, startling him slightly.

Izuku turned toward the source, blinking as a tall, broad-shouldered blond guy strolled over with a bright, goofy grin plastered across his face. His school uniform was only half worn, shirt untucked and sleeves rolled casually up to his elbows, revealing muscular arms and a few battle-worn scars. Around his waist gleamed a large golden belt buckle shaped like a carnivorous mouth. His beady blue eyes sparkled with laid-back confidence.

“Uh, yes, please,” Izuku replied with a small bow. “I’m looking for Class 1-A. A pointer in the right direction would be greatly appreciated.”

“Ahh, close but no dice. You took the left corridor, yeah? It’s the one on the right. This path leads to 3-B.” The blond slapped a hand on his hip, grinning wider. “Better hustle! Wouldn’t wanna be late on your first day.”

“Thanks!” Izuku called back with a grateful nod, taking off down the correct hall.

After a few more turns—and a brief moment of panic when he thought he’d taken a wrong turn again—he finally found it. A large, imposing door stood at the end of the hallway, a bright red “1-A” boldly painted across its center.

‘Probably for Accessibility for People with Quirks that make them big.’ Izuku realized as Heroes like Gang Orca came to mind.

He paused for a moment, hand on the handle, his mind buzzing.

What kind of people would be on the other side? What kind of quirks? Personalities?

A small darker vengeful part of him—even if he hated to admit it—hoped Bakugo was in the class. It’d make proving himself all the more satisfying. Face to face.

The only person he didn’t want to see, however, was that blue-haired rule-stickler from the entrance exam. That guy would be exhausting to deal with every single day—

“Remove your feet from the desk this instant!” a loud voice rang from inside the room. “It is disrespectful to both the craftsmen of these desks and our noble predecessors!”

Izuku sighed. Of course, Buzzkill-Ingenium was here.

Feet on the desk, though? That had Bakugo written all over it.

“Hah? What’s your damn problem?” came the snarling reply. Yep. Definitely Bakugo.

There was no point in stalling anymore. With a deep breath, Izuku slid the heavy door open and stepped inside.

The classroom was already half-filled with students. His eyes scanned the room, mentally assessing everything: seats, faces, aura, presence. He noted that two desks besides his own remained empty.

‘Must be cutting it close,’ he thought as he moved toward his assigned seat after taking a short glance at the seating plan besides the Door—center of the rightmost row, right by the window. Classic anime protagonist spot.

Right behind a short boy with purple balls growing out of his head, and of course his seat was directly behind Bakugo.

Several students glanced his way with interest. A boy with a bird head gave a brief, respectful nod. A pink-skinned girl with horns offered an enthusiastic wave. Others didn’t seem to care.

But before he could sit down, a low, dangerous growl stopped him in his tracks.

“...Deku.”

Izuku turned slowly, meeting Bakugo’s eyes—piercing, red, and full of suppressed rage. Through his Observation Haki, he could feel it clearly: anger, resentment, confusion. The results of the entrance exam had rattled him.

Izuku fought the grin trying to creep onto his face. Bakugo was simmering, ready to explode—

—but then someone cut in between them with perfect posture and military precision.

“I must apologize for my behavior at the entrance exam!” declared the blue-haired boy with glasses who seemed to appear out of nowhere, bowing sharply at a perfect 90-degree angle. “It was deeply unheroic of me to pass judgment before understanding your actions! My name is Tenya Iida. It’s a pleasure to meet you, and a humbling honor to witness your resolve.”

“Uh… I didn’t really do anything special. I just… acted,” Izuku replied sheepishly, with a bit of confusion, was he overestimating him now, shaking the guy’s hand despite the intensity radiating off him. “Anyway, I’m Izuku Midoriya. Nice to meet you too.”

At that moment, the classroom door slid open again.

“Yo! Sorry we’re late~! Had a little directional crisis, y’feel?” came a breezy, singsong voice.

Camie Utsushimi strode in first, exuding confidence with every sway of her hips. She filled out the school uniform in ways that seemed to defy dress code logic. Behind her, a flustered Ochaco Uraraka stumbled in, catching her breath.

“I told you it was the right corridor!” Ochaco huffed.

“Chill, girl~” Camie replied with a smug grin, flashing a peace sign. “We still made it, right?”

“Barely,” Izuku muttered with dryness in his voice as he saw his friends enter the Room in a Camie-esque manner.

“Ohh, Izu-kun already here?” Camie cooed, sauntering up to his desk with a flirtatious glint in her eyes. “Look at you, all eager ‘n stuff. Mornin’, babe”

“Goddammit, Camie!” Ochaco groaned, cheeks puffing. “Stop teasing him! People are gonna get the wrong idea!”

“Aww, you’re just jelly ‘cause I beat ya to sayin’ hi~” Camie teased, flicking her hair over her shoulder.

The energy in the room began to shift. Izuku could already feel the curious gazes from the pink girl, and… was that an invisible student? Or where they just clothes?

Not wanting to feed any gossip, he quickly intervened. “Morning to both of you. I hope you had a smooth trip here?”

Before either of them could respond, a monotone voice echoed from the floor.

“If you're here to make friends, you can pack your things and leave.”

All heads turned.

Lying behind the girls was a strange yellow sleeping bag that suddenly rose like a tired caterpillar coming to life. A scruffy man with dark hair and heavy eye bags emerged from within, staring blankly at the class.

‘Who is this guy?’ Izuku wondered, blinking, ‘Wait if I don’t recognize him, then he has to be an Underground Hero! Could it be…’

The man rubbed his eyes, unimpressed. “I’m your homeroom teacher, Shota Aizawa. From this moment on… you’re under my care.”

As if on cue, the entire class snapped to attention.

“You’re all too irrational,” Aizawa muttered, dragging himself to the podium like a man running on zero sleep. “It took you eight seconds to quiet down. That’s not going to cut it.”

He held up a blue and white gym uniform.

“No time for introductions. Put these on and head outside. You’ll find your set beneath your desk.”

“Huh?” the class echoed in confused unison.

And just like that, the chaos of Day One continued.

Thankfully, the path to the locker rooms and the practice field was straightforward—and with twenty students moving as a unit, no one got lost this time.

The real tests, however, were only just beginning.