Chapter Text
“Ms. Midoriya, Mr. Togata, thank you for agreeing to meet with me,” Nighteye calmly greeted as the two parents made their way to his desk. He noticed one looked significantly more bewildered than the other. “Are you alright, Ms. Midoriya?”
“Oh, um, yes!” Inko Midoriya quickly slipped into her chair, her eyes focusing back on Nighteye. “Sorry. I just - I’m still struggling to digest this situation. I mean, I know my boy was bright, but to grab the attention of a pro hero? I’m still kind of surprised.”
“I’m not!” Mirio’s father, Paku Togata, spoke up. “My boy’s a great kid, and a true hero. I knew it was only a matter of time until someone noticed his potential.”
“Well, I’m glad to have been that someone. Now, onto the reason why I called you both here.” Nighteye handed the parents a pen and a slip of paper. “In order to properly train your boys, I need you each to sign off on an apprenticeship form.”
Inko squinted her eyes as she struggled to read the wall of text laid out before her. “I had no idea you could fit so many words on a single piece of paper.”
“It’s rather simple once you get down to the basics. You’re just permitting me to mentor your respective children until they enter high school. At which point, they’ll hopefully make it into UA, and will be able to upgrade from apprentices to interns. Plus, you’ll be able to pull them out at any time, though I doubt you’ll want to.”
“SOLD!” Paku immediately scribbled his signature on the dotted line and brought Nighteye in for an overenthusiastic handshake. “Pleasure doing business with ya, Nighteye. I can already tell you’re gonna be a great fit for mah boy.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” Nighteye smiled as he turned to the other parent, who had just finished signing her own name. Though he could sense the small bit of apprehension in her eyes. He figured it would be best to give her a few extra words of reassurance. “And thank you as well, Ms. Midoriya. I promise I’ll do everything in my power to make your son into a great hero.”
“For his sake, I hope you do,” She said slowly, her eyes trailing across the paper, “Because I’m not sure you realize how much this means to Izuku. When he came home and told me the news yesterday… that might have been the happiest I’ve seen him in the last ten years.”
She took a deep breath as she straightened herself in the chair, Nighteye could tell she was fighting back tears. “I’ll be honest, I wasn’t as supportive of Izuku as I should have been, especially while he was growing up. So I’m relieved you’re here to help him where I couldn’t.”
“Think nothing of it, Ms. Midoriya.” Nighteye took the signed papers and filed them away. “To be honest, I see a lot of myself in that boy, so I’m sure shaping him into the hero I see him as should be an enjoyable experience for the both of us.”
———————————————
10 Months Before Mirio’s UA Entrance Exam…
“Sir, your two apprentices are here to see you,” Centipeder’s voice spoke up over the intercom.
“Send them up,” Nighteye swiftly responded before removing his finger from the button. As expected, the two boys were right on time for their first day of specialized training. The hero mentally steeled himself as they entered his office. He knew today’s conversation would be a difficult, yet necessary one.
“Hey there, Nighteye!” Mirio casually greeted, firing off a pair of finger guns as he sat at the desk.
“Good afternoon, Sir,” Izuku briefly stated before sitting down next to his friend. He still looked as shaky and nervous as the last time he saw him, but there was an underlying eagerness beneath it all.
“Glad you both made it on time,” Nighteye began, his hands neatly folded on his desk, a gesture he often did to help keep an air of professionalism around his office, “How have the exercise plans been treating you so far? I trust you’ve been keeping up with your sets.”
“You bet I have!” Mirio shot him a thumbs up. “It’s a bit more than what I’m used to, but y’know, Plus Ultra.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen so many push-ups in my whole life,” Izuku tiredly commented, glancing at his spindly arms, which were no doubt sore beyond belief.
“Very good,” Nighteye nodded, satisfied that pleasantries had been exchanged, “Now, I’m sure you’re wondering what the first step of your combat training will be.”
“You bet I am! What do I gotta do?” Mirio leaned off his seat from anticipation, with Izuku coincidentally parroting his action.
“Do you recall the style of fighting you learned before I met you? The one you used to help dispose of that bully?”
“Sure do! I call it Dolphin Style!”
“Yes. I want you to forget it entirely.”
The two boys instantly froze in shock with their mouths hung agape. “Wha…”
This was about the reaction Nighteye expected. Luckily, he was here to pick up the pieces before the metaphorical puzzle became unrecognizable. “Don’t be mistaken, it’s not that I don’t think flopping around like a dolphin and punching people directly in the organs is a bad way to fight. In fact, I think it’s rather humorous. But the simple truth of the matter is that it’s an incredibly risky form of combat.”
“Is it because Mirio might accidentally punch someone in their heart? Or their brain? Or their failing kidney?” Izuku asked.
“Those are a few of the reasons. While I can’t deny it’s a method that can lead to rapid villain takedowns, it could just as easily lead to unnecessarily medical complications, or even deaths.”
“Yeah, I was kinda worried about that when I first suggested it to him.” Izuku pursed his lips.
“Guess I can’t argue with you on that.” Mirio slumped back in his chair with an unfortunate sigh. “Dang. I was looking forward to being the Dolphin Hero.”
“Yes, an unfortunate loss,” Nighteye said, only being partially sarcastic, “Fortunately, the style I’ve chosen for the both of you will be just as efficient, and much more reliable.”
“Wait, both of us?” Izuku leaned forward and rested his hands on the desk, his eyebrow raised curiously. “I thought we’d be learning different fighting styles. You know, because…” He rapidly pointed between himself and Mirio. “Quirk? No Quirk?”
“Well yes, but actually no. The fighting style I’m about to teach you is applicable to the both of you, regardless of Quirk status. It’s the very same fighting style I use.”
“Oh, wait, I think I know this one!” Mirio shot his hand up like he was in a classroom. “Even when you’re not using your Quirk, don’t you fight by successfully predicting your opponents’ movements?”
“Correct. And even though my Quirk makes it easier for me, it’s a skill that can be learned by just about anyone.”
“Ooh! This sounds promising!” Mirio excitedly grabbed Izuku by the shoulder and started shaking him rapidly. “Doesn’t this sound promising, Izuku? I can hardly contain myself!”
“I know-ow-ow-ow-ow!” Izuku replied as he was being shaken. “But how-ow-ow do we ho-o-one that instinct?”
“Well, the best way to do so is experience,” Nighteye said as he pulled something up on his computer, “But since we can’t have you fighting villains just yet, we’ll have to settle on the next best thing.” He turned the monitor to face his apprentices, showing them footage of a fight between Kamui Woods and a villain with spider features.
“We’re gonna be watching hero fights?!” Izuku excitedly gasped as a notebook and pen materialized in his hands.
“That’s right. You’ll be going over a multitude of heroes and villains. I want you both to take note of every tell or sign of preemptive Quirk usage you see.”
“This sounds like fun,” Mirio grinned.
“I also expect both of you to write individual essays on the topic once you’re done.”
“This sounds significantly less fun.”
———————————————
9 Months Before Mirio’s UA Entrance Exam…
Izuku took a deep breath. He could do this. He just had to walk up to them and give them his suggestions. Easy.
So then why weren’t his legs moving? Was it the subconscious fear of rejection and failure? Probably. But just because he could identify his problem didn’t mean it was automatically solved.
Unfortunately, before he could muster up the courage to move a muscle, the universe decided to throw him straight into the deep end as the door to the employee break room opened up, and out stepped one of Nighteye’s sidekicks.
“Buh-Buh-Bubble Girl!” Izuku strained his anxious face into a smile.
“Oh, hi Midoriya. Is there… something you wanted to ask me?”
“Uh, yes! Yes there is!” He quickly fumbled his notebook out of his bag. “I - uh - Sir Nighteye has been helping me refine my Quirk analysis, and he wanted me to show you some possible suggestions I came up with regarding you and Centipeder’s Quirks.”
“Oh, really? That sounds interesting. Come in.” Bubble Girl opened the door the rest of the way and beckoned Izuku to follow, to which he sat in an empty chair adjacent to the couch Centipeder was lounging on.
“Good day, Midoriya. What business do you have?” The myriapod-themed hero asked.
“Just some Quirk tips. You don’t have to take them if you don’t want to, but I at least want to share.” Izuku flipped to a page in his book and read his notes aloud. “Okay, starting with Bubble Girl, you can make your bubbles smell like anything, correct?”
“Yeah. I mostly fill them with foul odors to throw off villains.”
“Alright, but what if you used them in a slightly different way? For example, it’s a common belief that the smell of burnt toast means you’re having a stroke. Do you think you could use your bubbles to trick villains into thinking that?”
Bubble Girl sat in silence as she digested Izuku’s words. Her gaze slowly shifted down to her hands, where she produced a small bubble. Upon popping it with her finger, the room filled up with the faint smell of burnt toast. “I - I guess I could do that… Wow, that’s scary.”
Izuku ignored Bubble Girl’s minor crisis as he moved on to the other sidekick. “And Centipeder, your Quirk gives you so many extra limbs. You could hold potentially dozens, if not hundreds of weapons. I know they’re mostly just small centipede legs, but they should still be able to grip onto a blade, right? Just imagine slashing an opponent with an entire line of swords! Or whacking them over the head with dozens of bats!”
“Hm, an interesting possibility indeed.” Centipeder thoughtfully scratched his chin (or whatever equivalent centipedes had). “I shall begin experimenting with smaller, easy-to-hold weapons at once.”
“Wait, really?” Izuku gawked, part of him still surprised that someone would actually listen to his Quirk advice.
“Of course. As confident as I am with my abilities, it’s important to keep striving for improvement and new directions to take my fighting style.”
“Yeah, gotta go Plus Ultra and all that,” Bubble Girl summarized.
Izuku felt a small amount of pride build up in his stomach, a feeling he wasn’t used to, but appreciated nonetheless. Even if he hadn’t exactly become a hero yet, he felt like he was already halfway there.
Hopefully, this would only be the start of good things to come.
———————————————
8 Months Before Mirio’s UA Entrance Exam…
“Tamaki!” Mirio rushed over to his friend and greeted him with a slap on the back. “Man, it feels like it’s been an eternity-and-a-half since I’ve seen you.”
“H-Hi Mirio,” Tamaki returned the greeting in his usual soft and subdued manner, “Yeah, it… it’s been a while. I was worried I’d never see you again.”
“Well it’s a good thing I suggested we all meet up. But how have you been? How’s your new school? And where’s that new friend you wanted to introduce me to?”
That last question seemed to strike a chord with Tamaki. Whether it was a good or bad one was unknown to Mirio, since his friend usually reacted that way to everything. “W-Well, the new school is… it’s fine. A-And as for the new friend, sh-she’s a bit…”
“HEY! There you are!” Interrupted a girl with long, periwinkle hair, who promptly inserted herself into the conversation by glomping on Tamaki.
“Nejire…” He nervously groaned as he tried to wriggle his way out of her embrace.
“Sorry, sorry.” She quickly separated herself from him. “I’m just so super excited to be here! You talked so much about your old friend, and I’m dying to meet him! So when’s he supposed to get here? Now? Later? Ten hours from now?”
“He’s right… he’s right over there.” Tamaki pointed to Mirio. Not even a second passed before Nejire dashed over and started bombarding him with questions.
“Are you Mirio Togata? Hi, I’m Nejire Hado! You can call me Nejire if you want. Tamaki’s been talking nonstop about you. Is your Quirk really that difficult to control? How many times have you ended up naked because of it? Are you secretly an exhibitionist? Do you prefer cow’s milk or goat’s milk?”
Mirio, for his part, took all these questions in stride. “Nice to meet you, Nejire. You can call me Mirio if you want. Yes, my Quirk is hard to control. I’ve ended up naked more times than I can count. No, I’m not an exhibitionist. And I prefer cow’s milk. Also, thanks for taking care of Tamaki for me.”
“Oh, no problem. Tamaki’s great! He’s like a shy little puppy. In fact, I think he can turn into one with his Quirk. But then he would have to eat a puppy, and why would you want to do that?”
“Well, what do you think hot dogs are for?” Mirio joked, much to Nejire’s amusem*nt.
And thus, a friendship was formed based on positive vibes alone.
Meanwhile, as Tamaki watched his two friends converse and get to know each other, he felt a fourth presence slowly shamble up to the group. “Um… hi,” The green-haired boy quietly greeted.
“…Hi,” Tamaki shyly waved.
“Tamaki Amajiki, right? Is… Mirio your friend?”
“Uh-huh. Yours too?”
“Mine too.”
“Cool… cool.”
“…”
“…”
And thus, a friendship was formed based on anxiousness alone.
———————————————
7 Months Before Mirio’s UA Entrance Exam…
“Izuku, can you tell me what I’m trying to accomplish here?” Nighteye asked as he moved his bishop.
“Why, did you forget?” Mirio chuckled as he passed by the chessboard to move his rook before phasing through the stack of cardboard boxes, his left heel nearly knocking them over when he jumped out.
“No, I’m simply testing him to see if he can understand the purpose of a seemingly nonsensical training exercise. I’m teaching him to think outside the box, if you will.”
“Well, let’s see here…” Izuku carefully observed the scene before him. “You and Mirio are playing a game of chess while Mirio is continuously phasing through walls of cardboard boxes in between each move. This seems to be a form of teaching him parallel processing, seeing if he can think critically while performing complex maneuvers with his Quirk.”
“Correct,” Nighteye nodded as he moved his queen a space forward, “Also, checkmate.”
“Check - wha?!” Mirio lost focus for a moment and accidentally de-permeated partway through the wall of boxes, sending cardboard flying in every direction. “Whoopsies! My bad!”
“And this is why we use cardboard instead of bricks,” Nighteye simply stated, “We wouldn’t want to risk your Quirk launching bricks at us, would we?”
“Yeah, that would really cement my status as a novice,” Mirio joked, which got a chuckle out of his mentor.
Izuku, meanwhile, was busy thinking about the deeper implications. He knew Mirio popped out of whatever object he phased himself through, but he never knew the object could pop out of him.
Before the idea could leave his brain, he added a few lines of text to Mirio’s entry in his notebook, knowing he’d want to revisit this idea after a bit of tweaking.
———————————————
6 Months Before Mirio’s UA Entrance Exam…
Izuku let out a huff of disappointment as the tennis ball flew through the air and bounced off the wall, missing its target by a wide margin. “Okay, that angle’s a no-go. Try a little higher up for your next shot,” He instructed while jotting down the results.
“Already on it!” Mirio activated his Quirk on his stomach and held a tennis ball so it was partially phasing through his skin. Once his shot was lined up, he de-permeated himself, sending the ball flying out of his body. It flew in a wide arc before colliding with the can on the pedestal, knocking it to the floor.
“Bullseye!” Mirio exclaimed with a pump of his fist.
“Nice shot!” Izuku ran over to the target to gather the tennis balls from their past failed attempts at hitting the can. “We’re making progress here, I can tell. If we can just figure out the best spots to fire from, I bet we can-”
“What are you two doing?” Nighteye asked as he suddenly entered the training room, his tone unamused.
“Oh, uh, hi Nighteye,” Izuku waved with a bit of apprehension, “I was just testing out some potential Quirk applications for Mirio.”
“Yeah! I’m using Permeation to launch objects out of my body like projectiles!” Mirio demonstrated by launching another tennis ball out of his stomach, which bounced off the wall and bonked Nighteye on the head, who didn’t seem phased in the slightest by the impact. “Heh, whoops. Still workin’ on it.”
“You won’t if I have anything to say about it,” He replied in a slow yet stern tone before turning to his other apprentice. “Izuku, while I appreciate you trying to take initiative, I must remind you that Mirio’s training regiment is set in stone, and must not be tampered with.”
“I - I know, but I just felt that he should have some kind of long-ranged option. It never hurts for a hero to be-”
“It must not be tampered with,” Nighteye repeated in a tone that left no room for argument. “Your Quirk advice is more than welcome for pros who already have things figured out. But Mirio has to be in top shape before his entrance exam, which he has a finite amount of time until. Understood?”
“Y-Yes Sir,” Izuku solemnly mumbled.
“Good,” He nodded, “Now if memory serves, you have a weight set you need to perform by the end of the day, so get to it.”
As Izuku dejectedly exited the training gym, Mirio slowly turned to his mentor with pursed lips, as if there was something on his mind he was debating on letting out.
Knowing things wouldn’t get back on track until something was done, Nighteye decided to bite the bullet. “Is there something wrong, Mirio?”
“Uh, no, not really. It’s just… I don’t think you needed to shut Izuku down like that. I mean, the tips he gave Bubble Girl and Centipeder have been doing wonders for their villain takedowns. I’m pretty sure he knows what he’s doing here.”
“Trust me, I am aware of that. But let me ask you a question, Mirio, have my predictions ever been wrong before?”
“Uh, no. Not that I’m aware of,” He slowly answered, unsure where this conversation was headed.
“Exactly. My visions are never wrong. And I have a specific vision for you.” He took a step back and admired Mirio from several different angles, like an art critic reviewing a painting. “When I look at you, I see a future top-ten hero in the making. No, a future number one hero. Let me ask you, do you trust me to help make you into the hero I see you as?”
“Of course I do!”
“Good. Then all you need to do is trust the process.” Nighteye patted him on the shoulder as he made his exit, “It hasn’t failed me yet, and I’m sure it’ll be the same for you.
“Whatever you say, Sir!” Mirio smiled with a thumbs up. But as soon as his mentor shut the door behind him, he felt his smile begin to wane. He knew Nighteye had both his and Izuku’s best interests at heart, but something about that conversation seemed… off.
But then again, maybe it was just him. Yeah, that was probably it. Deciding to give Nighteye the benefit of the doubt, Mirio turned to continue his original exercise.
Yet no matter how many reps he did, that niggling feeling in the back of his brain wouldn’t go away.
———————————————
5 Months Before Mirio’s UA Entrance Exam…
“Today, Izuku, I’m proud to introduce you to the exciting world of paperwork.”
“…uh, yay?” Izuku tried to force out an enthusiastic cheer.
Nighteye lowered his eyebrows in a light glare. “I suggest you change your tone. This might just be the most important lesson of your hero career.”
“I know, I know. I just… it’s kinda hard to be enthusiastic over paperwork. It’s just… it’s paperwork.”
“Maybe so, but paperwork is the backbone of the hero industry. An unsung hero among heroes, if you will. Without it, there would be no agencies, no hero rankings, no late-night talk show interviews, and dare I even say… no merchandise.”
Izuku gulped down a nervous lump in his throat.
“My thoughts exactly. Now that I truly have your attention, let’s get started.” The Foresight Hero pulled out a large stack of paper, which he dropped on his desk with an audible thud. “The main kind of paperwork you’ll be filing is hero reports. Even something as simple as rescuing a cat from a tree has to be accounted for if it’s done on patrol. The act of filling out the paperwork itself is easy, but filing and organizing is a skill that will have to be honed over time.”
“Most hero reports are organized by the severity of the situation in which the hero is involved, as well as the task the hero performed. Whether it’s rescue work, villain takedowns, or community service, all of it goes toward determining a hero’s ranking. Am I going too fast for you?”
“Huh, what?” Izuku looked up from his notebook, where he had already filled out an entire page on the most efficient way to do paperwork. “No, you’re not going too fast. But I just had one question. If paperwork is as important as you say, then shouldn’t Mirio be learning this too?”
Ah, yes, Nighteye should have expected that question. Truth be told, teaching Mirio about paperwork was near the bottom of his to-do list. Back during his and All Might’s glory days, he voluntarily took care of all the paperwork while All Might focused on the actual hero work. It was all part of their relationship as hero and sidekick, and Nighteye saw no reason why it shouldn’t be the same for Izuku and Mirio.
…Then again, he knew Izuku wouldn’t be satisfied if he answered, ‘Mirio doesn’t need to learn paperwork because you’ll be doing it all for him’, so he came up with a reasonable excuse on the spot.
“Mirio will be taught all this during his time at UA. We’re just giving you a head start for now.”
“Oh, that makes sense.” Izuku clicked his pen as he focused back on his notes. “Now please, continue.”
———————————————
4 Months Before Mirio’s UA Entrance Exam…
“I must commend you, Izuku. So far, you’ve done a proficient job at following your training regiment. Not a push-up out of place.”
“Thank you, Sir!” Izuku lightly beamed at the praise, “But it’s not that big a deal. Anyone can follow a simple plan like that. Plus, Mirio’s is much more intense than mine, so if you really think about it…”
Nighteye poked Izuku on the forehead with his long, spindly fingers. “Midoriya, what have I told you about needlessly comparing yourself to others?”
“That it’ll only hamper my ability to perform in the long run,” He drawled off, “I know, I know. I’m sorry. Old habits die hard, I guess.”
“Just keep that in mind for next time. Now, the reason I called you here is to discuss the next step of your training. Tell me, Izuku, do you know what this is?” He reached into his pocket and gently placed a stamp on his desk, which his student recognized almost immediately.
“Those are your Hyper-Density Seals! They’re your primary weapon for taking down villains! Each one weighs about five kilograms!”
“Correct. I’m glad you’re familiar with them,” He placed the seal in Izuku’s open palm, followed by five extras, “Because starting today, you’ll be carrying them around for the remainder of your training.”
Izuku gasped. “Really?! That’s…” He hoisted the seals off the table, only for the weight to drag him down to the ground. “…That’s really heavy.”
Nighteye had a good chuckle at that. “Thankfully, you won’t be carrying them all at once. We’ll work our way up to that.”
“But still, five extra kilograms on my person at all times. That might weigh me down a bit, especially starting out.”
“Yes, I recommend you either invest in a belt, or don’t place them in your pockets,” He advised, his mind flashing back to when he first made that very same mistake, causing his pants to fall down during his very first patrol as a hero.
It was a rather humorous memory for him, looking back. But of course, comedy and embarrassment were two sides of the same coin.
———————————————
3 Months Before Mirio’s UA Entrance Exam…
“Today’s personalized training session will be different from the previous ones,” Nighteye announced to the two boys. “Today, you’ll be building your hero personas.”
“Uh, quick question.” Izuku raised his hand, “Isn’t this something they’re going to teach us at UA?”
“Yes, but it never hurts to get a head-start. And to do so, I’ve enlisted the help of a special guest.” Nighteye gestured to the door in front of him, signaling a familiar pro hero to enter.
“Holy woah! It’s the Fiber Hero: Best Jeanist!” Izuku couldn’t help but point out.
“Thank you for the introduction, but we all know who I am,” Best Jeanist wasted no time getting to the point. “And why is that? Because of my heroic presence, my persona, and the elegant way I carry myself out on the field. All of these factors work together to shape my public perception. It’s what separates the All Mights of the world from the Manuals.”
“Manual? I don’t think I’ve heard of him,” Said Mirio.
“My point exactly. Now, let’s start with you.” Before Mirio could even blink, he found himself sitting in a barber’s chair with Best Jeanist undoing his ponytail as he closely observed his hair’s weight, texture, color, as well as various other aspects. “Tell me, Mirio Togata, what kind of hero do you want to be?”
“That’s an easy one. I want to be the kind of hero who makes people laugh and smile, no matter how bleak things might look. I want people to see me and instantly know everything’s gonna be alright. Y’know, like All Might.”
Best Jeanist hummed and nodded. “A lofty goal for sure. And to accomplish that, you’ll first need to look the part. Which leads me to my most vital piece of advice, lose the ponytail.”
“Guh-WHA?!” Mirio exclaimed in an over-animated reaction. He was the only one in the room to react this way. Izuku tried to look away inconspicuously, while Nighteye simply stood in his usual stiff pose.
“He raises a good point,” The Foresight Hero said with zero regret, “The little things can go a long way. And unless you’re going for an ironic sense of humor, a ponytail may hinder your ability to make others laugh.”
Mirio protectively clutched the end strands of his hair. “C’mon, it could still work. Back me up here, Izuku.” He turned to his friend with a hopeful gleam in his eyes, only to get shot down by his friend’s look of ambivalence.
“Sorry, Mirio. I’m sure you could be a trendsetter if you want, but how many heroes do you know with a ponytail?”
“I could think of someone if I tried. Just give me… a week!”
“I’m afraid not. The ponytail has to go,” Nighteye shook his head solemnly, but it was more of a formality than anything. “In its place, might I suggest something with a bit more upward momentum?” He asked Best Jeanist.
“I was thinking the same thing.” As he began to carefully remove the ponytail, Nighteye cleared his throat as he decided to move onto a more pressing matter.
“Of course, looks aren’t everything when it comes to a heroic presence. One must also take words into account.”
“You mean how like All Might says ‘I AM HERE!’ whenever he shows up?” Mirio guessed.
“Precisely. And I personally think it would be beneficial to have a similar catchphrase of your own.”
Mirio hummed in thought, his mind going back and forth on the subject like a game of ping pong. “Doesn’t that sound a little derivative to you? As much as I love All Might, I wouldn’t wanna rip him off or anything.”
“I believe you’ve mistaken homage for plagiarism in this case,” Best Jeanist chimed in, “If I made a list of all their heroes who have paid homage to All Might, it would be longer than most novels.
“Oh, I have a list!” Izuku pulled out his notebook and began reading from a page filled with handwriting that was too small to read without a magnifying glass. Thankfully, he kept one on his person at all times. “There’s Star & Stripe, Golden Grin, Union Jack, Super Power, The Blonde Boxer, and those are just the exceedingly obvious ones!”
“Thank you, Midoriya,” Nighteye nodded as he turned back to Mirio. “So you see, it’s not too unordinary to have a simple phrase to alert others of your larger-than-life presence.”
“Guess I can’t really argue with that,” The young blond assumed with a tiny shrug, “What if I said something like ‘HERE I AM!’ or maybe ‘GUESS WHO!’ Or since comedy is pretty much my whole thing, what about ‘KNOCK KNOCK!’”
“No. Those are terrible,” Nighteye shot down the ideas without any mercy.
“Okay, okay, what about something that shows off my strength? Like ‘POOOOOWER!” He yelled with a flex, throwing off Best Jeanist for a brief moment.
“Please hold still,” He sternly demanded.
“Sorry…” Mirio sat back down with a nervous grin.
“But yes, I think ‘Power’ is a much nicer catchphrase,” Nighteye nodded, “It stands well as a simple phrase that can both reassure civilians while striking fear into the hearts of villains.”
“I didn’t think about it that way, but yeah, totally!”
“Alright, the ponytail is finally disposed of,” Best Jeanist announced as he dipped his hand in a jar of gel and slicked the front of Mirio’s hair upward, taking special care to make the spikes symmetrical. “Now tell me, what do you think of this?” He asked as he handed the boy a mirror.
As much as Mirio expected to hate his new look on principle, he had to admit, there was something oddly charming about it. It made him look a bit more professional. As a hero, of course. He knew this style would never land him an office job. “It’s pretty good, actually. Kinda reminds me of how my hair used to look back when I was a kid. What do you guys think?”
“Looking sharp,” Izuku complimented.
“You look more like a hero than ever,” Nighteye grinned.
“Glad the consensus is unanimous,” Said Best Jeanist, “Now, let’s move on,” He turned to look at Izuku, who suddenly found himself taking Mirio’s place in the barber chair.
“What - huh?! How did I get here?”
The Fiber Hero ignored his qualms and began making his way through Izuku’s green locks like he was trying to clear a path through a densely-wooded jungle. “Am I safe to assume your motivation for heroism is similar to Togata’s?”
“Pretty much,” He shrugged, “I want to make people smile like him, but I’m mostly interested in saving people. I just think that’s the best thing a hero can do.”
“Good to hear. But I’m afraid that means we’ll have to do something about your… unruliness.” He twirled a finger through one of Izuku’s curls.
“Might I suggest something of my caliber?” Nighteye ran a hand through his flat, smooth, businesslike head of hair.
“Seems like a fine place to start.” Best Jeanist slapped a handful of gel on Izuku’s head, who flinched at the coldness. Within seconds, his untamed shrub of a hairdo was now smoother and rounder than a polished bowling ball. “What do you think?”
Izuku let out an unfortunate hiss at the sight of his reflection in the mirror. “Well I-” The words barely escaped his mouth before his hair suddenly puffed back to normal, the floofiness simply being too much for the gel to handle.
Nighteye fought back a scowl at this sight. “Do it again,” He said to Best Jeanist.
“I sense this might require something stronger.” The Fiber Hero reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle of his personal brand of hair gel, the kind so tough it could keep a person’s hair neat and tidy through a Category Five hurricane.
It managed to keep Izuku’s hair in place for all of five seconds.
With his eye twitching in frustration, Best Jeanist whipped out his phone and called his agency. “Let me talk to my support engineers. I need them to develop a stronger hair gel formula. I don’t care how impossible it is, just make it happen.”
He hoped they’d figure out something soon, because at this point, he was fighting down the urge to dump wet cement on Izuku’s head.
———————————————
2 Months Before Mirio’s UA Entrance Exam…
With a yelp, Izuku sidestepped a jab from Bubble Girl, only to step right into one of the odor-filled bubbles she left floating around the gym. He fought back a gag as he unwillingly inhaled a familiar scent. “Really? Burnt toast? I’m not falling for that.”
“Never hurts to be prepared.” She sent a flying kick his way, which he managed to block. The two had sparred multiple times at this point, and for once, Izuku thought he might just have a fighting chance.
At least, if this wasn’t a two-on-two spar, because his partner did not look to be faring as well.
Sparing a glance over to Mirio, he could see while the blond was surviving against Centipeder, he was far from thriving. With so many centipede legs to avoid and permeate through, each clutching their own training blade, Mirio could hardly get a breath in, much less an attack.
Izuku’s thoughts were cut off as he felt a sharp pain in his abdomen. “Hey, focus on our fight, not theirs,” Bubble Girl said as she went for a follow-up strike, which he barely managed to avoid.
While her advice was important, Izuku just couldn’t leave his partner hanging like that. Luckily, Bubble Girl was a rather floaty fighter, given her Quirk. All he had to do was wait for an opening to help his friend. When that opening finally appeared, he used the brief reprieve to throw a high-density seal at an unsuspecting Centipeder, giving him just enough time to give his partner some sage advice.“Mirio, go for the antenna!” He shouted, knowing that was by far the most sensitive spot on the sidekick’s body.
Mirio silently nodded, and without hesitation, he dived back onto the ground before rocketing himself out. As he soared over Centipeder’s head, permeating select parts of his body to avoid the dozens of training blades, he reached down and gave his opponent’s antenna a swift yank before sinking back into the floor.
“GAH!” Centipeder instinctively clutched his buzzing head, allowing Mirio to pop out of the ground and land a direct hit on his opponent’s stomach.
“POOOOOOOOWER!” He yelled as Centipeder fell to the ground, the wind thoroughly knocked out of him. Never one to waste time reveling in his victory, he quickly ran over to help Izuku with his opponent.
“It’s two-on-one now. You should probably yield,” Izuku kindly suggested as he blocked a punch to the gut before countering with his own that unfortunately didn’t land.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you,” Bubble Girl grumbled.
“I know I would!” Mirio suddenly popped out of the ground beside her, driving a painful-looking smash in her direction. With a nervous squeak, she narrowly sidestepped the attack, only to walk right into Izuku’s leg-sweep, knocking her to the ground.
With both sidekicks down, Nighteye, who had been observing the whole time, signaled the end of the spar with a slow clap directed toward his two apprentices. “Well done, you two. The progress you’ve made in just a few short months simply cannot be understated.”
“Yeah man! We did great!” Mirio gave his friend a congratulatory slap on the back. “Thanks for the tip back there, Izuku. I was a bit confused when you told me to go for the antenna, but I knew you had it all figured out!”
“Oh, it was nothing,” Izuku smiled, returning Mirio’s gesture with a friendly slug on the arm, “You know how it is. After researching centipedes for ten hours straight, you tend to pick up on a few things. For example, did you know that most centipedes don’t even have eyes?”
“Really? Is this true?” Mirio turned to ask Centipeder, who had just gotten up. “Come to think of it, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you blink before. You sure those eyes aren’t fake or anything?”
“You wouldn’t mind if we… took a look to make sure.” Bubble Girl curiously reached toward Centipeder’s face, only for him to rudely smack her hand away.
“Don’t even think about it.”
———————————————
1 Week Before Mirio’s UA Entrance Exam…
“The day is nearly upon us, Mirio,” Nighteye began as his two apprentices sat at his desk, “And I have to ask, how are you feeling?”
He let out a worried chuckle. “Is it weird to say I’m feeling a little nervous, even though the exam is still a week from today?”
“If it’s any consolation, I’m nervous for my entrance exam, and I still have two years,” Izuku half-joked, though his friend found it funny regardless.
“It’s normal for tensions to be high. But I have no doubt you’ll thrive in the general exam,” Nighteye assured as he non-subtly reached behind his desk, causing Izuku and Mirio to lean forward in anticipation. “In fact, to commemorate such a milestone, I’ve prepared some small mementos I’d like to bestow upon the both of you.”
The two boys gasped as he placed a gift in each of their hands, both wrapped in golden All Might-themed wrapping paper. “Aw, Sir, you shouldn’t have!” Said Mirio as he cradled the unopened box in his arms.
“Trust me, I very much should have. You’ll understand when you open it.”
“Well how can I say no to that?” Mirio violently tore off the wrapping paper, earning a silent wince from Nighteye (that specific wrapping paper was limited edition). The blond’s smile shifted into a look of confusion upon witnessing his gift. “Uh, a pair of boxer shorts? Not that I don’t appreciate it or anything, it’s just…”
“Not just any boxer shorts. Try permeating through them.”
As his eyes widened in realization, Mirio slowly tried permeating his hands through the boxer shorts, only for them to move as if he wasn’t using his Quirk at all. “No way… you made me DNA-infused boxer shorts?!”
“That’s correct. Now you won’t make nearly as much of a fool of yourself when you use your Quirk.”
“And maybe I can stop getting all those public nudity charges. Thank you so much for this, Sir! This pretty much changes everything!”
“It’s my pleasure,” He smiled before nudging the other gift toward Izuku. “And now I believe it’s your turn to open your gift.”
“Oh man, I wonder what it could be…” Izuku’s grin was so wide it nearly stretched off his face as he carefully removed the wrapping paper (a method of unboxing that Nighteye found much more preferable). “Ooh, a new set of pens!” He exclaimed upon opening his box. But as he went to pick one up, he suddenly paused. “Wow, these are much heavier than they look.”
“Yes they are.” Nighteye fought back a smug grin as he waited for Izuku to connect the dots. “About five kilograms, to be precise.”
The realization hit Izuku like a sack of bricks, and he was left practically speechless. “You - You made me my own… Except it’s a pen… And - And it even functions as a…” He clicked the pen and tried scribbling in his notebook. Sure enough, it worked as both a pen and a high-density bludgeoning tool. “This is the greatest gift anyone has ever given me,” He said, ignoring the big fat tears rolling down his face.
“Just be sure to keep the tip retracted when using it as a weapon. You wouldn’t want to stab someone in the head,” Nighteye advised. “Now, I shall ask again, how are you feeling about the entrance exams? Better, I presume?”
“Infinitely better!” Mirio assured as he ran his hands through the soft, permeable texture of his new undergarments. “I feel like I could take on the world now!”
“I suggest you save that energy for the exam. Trust me, you’re going to need it.”
“Really? Am I gonna be fighting robots or something?”
———————————————
The Day of Mirio’s UA Entrance Exam…
“Yup, definitely robots,” He said to himself as he shot out of the ground and socked a Two-Pointer in the face, cracking its red lights. It was honestly comical how easy these guys were to take down. Their attacks were so heavily telegraphed, you’d think they were video game bosses.
…Or maybe he was just overprepared. Yeah, probably that. Ten months of training with a pro hero will do that to ya.
Focusing back on the exam, he spotted a One-Pointer about to strike an unprotected girl with round, green hair who had her back turned. The instincts Nighteye drilled into him took over, and he immediately leaped into action. He phased into the ground and shot himself toward the girl to push her out of the way of the robot’s strike.
Once she was out of the way, he squared up to the robot, who had its shields raised to cover its weak points. Lucky for Mirio, he didn’t need to bother breaching its defenses, not when he could just phase his foot right through them to kick the robot in the face with a yell of, “POOOOOOOOWER!”
That was about the tenth time he’d said his catchphrase today. He very quickly learned that the field of heroism would not be kind on his throat.
Mirio had no time to stop and smell the roses, though, as a pair of Three-Pointers zeroed in on him and began firing missiles. Of course, since this was just an exam, the missiles were fairly slow, possibly even slow enough for him to grab and launch back. Or maybe he could just reach into the robots and yank out their main processing chips. But nah, Mirio didn’t want to risk it, instead choosing to stick to the method Nighteye taught him.
Right as he finished dispatching the two robots, he felt a sudden tremor beneath his feet. Was it an earthquake? Were people in danger? Would the test be called off? Mirio’s questions were answered as he turned to peer down the street, where he spotted the unavoidable presence of the Zero-Pointer as it practically bulldozed down the road.
“That’s the Zero-Pointer?! Didn’t Present Mic say we should just ignore that?” He heard a voice ask.
“I mean, we can since we’re so far away,” Another voice answered, “But maybe not them.” The passerby pointed to a small group of test-takers who were much closer to the giant robot. And as most people did upon seeing a metal monster the size of a skyscraper, they frantically ran away from it.
Mirio knew he couldn’t just stand by while others could potentially get crushed, so he decided to go against the crowd and run toward the danger. He targeted those closest to the robot’s encroaching treads and launched himself toward them, snatching them up, and dropping them off outside the danger zone.
He continued this routine until an alarm rang out across the testing ground, signaling the end of the exam. As Mirio finally stopped to catch his breath for the first time since the exam started, he came to the unfortunate realization that everything was sore. He supposed this was just a feeling he’d have to get used to in the field of heroics, assuming he passed the exam, of course.
“Does anybody need healing?” An elderly voice called out, signaling Mirio to turn and see what looked to be the Youthful Heroine: Recovery Girl making her way down the street, who noticed his presence right as he noticed hers.
“You there! the blue eyes and no shirt! Show me your hands!” She sternly commanded while walking up to him. Mirio cautiously obliged, sticking out his palms, which was when he realized how red and bloody they were. “Young man, have you been punching robots with your bare hands?” Recovery Girl asked with a frustrated grumble.
Not wanting to get in trouble before he was even admitted, Mirio opted to spout out the first excuse that came to his mind. “Noooo…. I was… eating jam? Yeah… because my Quirk is powered by jam.”
Nailed it.
Recovery Girl didn’t respond, only huffing as she kissed Mirio’s bloody knuckles. He didn’t even realize he was feeling pain in that area until it suddenly went away.
“If you get into UA, I hope you learn to curb that behavior. I don’t want to see you in my office for headbutting a diamond or something,” She warned as she walked off to help another test-taker.
“Alright, note to self: Ask for a pair of DNA-infused gloves for my future hero costume,” Mirio verbally reminded himself.
———————————————
Several Weeks Later…
“It’s finally here,” Mirio murmured to himself as he held the (surprisingly heavy) envelope in his hands, the golden UA seal giving it an almost regal feel. He half-expected to hear a chorus of royal trumpets upon opening it.
“C’mon, open it already! The suspense is killing me!” Izuku practically begged. Of course, the moment the letter arrived in Mirio’s mailbox, he invited his partner in heroism over to view the results with. Depending on what was in that envelope, they would either be celebrating his victory, or mourning his defeat. Either way, they’d do it together.
“Alright, here goes everything.” Slowly, Mirio tore off the top of the envelope, the quiet tearing of paper echoing throughout his room like a distorted drumroll. But before he could finish, his phone suddenly went off.
“Hold on for a sec. Nejire’s ringing.” He paused the big reveal and answered the sudden call, only for an excited squeal from the other end to nearly rip his eardrums off.
“Mirio! Mirio! I just got my entrance exam results! I got in! And you got in too! Did you know you got the top score? Huh? Did you know that? They showed a leaderboard and everything! How did you get such a high score? I think it’s ’cause of all the rescue points. Did you know about rescue points? ”
As Nejire’s babbling slowly devolved into nonsense, Mirio tuned her out and shrugged toward his green-haired friend. “Well, so much for anticipation.”
“But hey! You still got in! And you got the top score! I knew you could do it!” Izuku congratulated.
“Thanks, man. Now I’m just hoping Tamaki got in as well. It just wouldn’t be right if he wasn’t there.”
“I’m pretty sure he did. I would know. I spent the whole night before the exam cooking up meats for him to eat. If he can’t get in with the power of a praying mantis, then the test is clearly rigged.”
“Amen to that.”
———————————————
Several MORE Weeks Later…
Izuku excitedly clutched his notebook and pen close to his chest. “I can’t believe it! I spent over a decade watching the Sports Festival on TV, and now I’m finally here! I can’t thank you enough for this, Sir!”
“I was made aware of that fact after the first hundred ‘thanks yous’,” Said Nighteye as the hero and his apprentice made their way to their seats in the stands. “But really, what kind of mentor would I be if I didn’t get front-row seats to see how far my protege has come?”
“That’s true,” Izuku agreed before letting out a wistful sigh, “It’s a bit of a shame, though. This year might be a bit more boring than the others.”
“Oh? And why is that?”
“Because I’m a hundred and ten percent sure Mirio’s gonna win,” He said with absolute certainty. And Nighteye would be pressed to agree. This Sports Festival was essentially the culmination of everything he had been training his protege for. If Mirio took home the first-place medal, then Nighteye would be sure he’d finally be ready to inherit One for All.
But even so, Nighteye was still curious about Izuku’s thoughts. “Care to elaborate on your statement?”
“I would love to.” The green teen’s eyes sharpened as he mentally entered Analysis Mode, whipping out one of his notebooks and turning to a page on the UA Sports Festival. “Given Mirio’s Quirk and his near-mastery over it, there’s a good chance he’ll be able to cheese any sporting event thrown his way.”
“How can you know for sure?” Nighteye challenged, already knowing the answer.
“While the events themselves differ, each round follows a similar pattern between years. Round One is usually a mass-elimination round, Round Two is a team event, and Round Three is always some kind of tournament. And since Mirio’s Quirk essentially allows him to avoid being touched, he’s pretty much got the First and Third rounds in the bag, no matter what events they entail.”
“And what about Round Two?”
“For that, it’s pretty much a guarantee he’ll team with Nejire and Tamaki, who have already been making leaps and strides with their Quirks since starting UA. I know you haven’t seen much of them before, but trust me, I can see them being just as big as Mirio in a year or two.”
Nighteye sat back in his chair and folded his hands as he digested Izuku’s analysis. “You’ve made some very interesting predictions, Izuku. We’ll just have to see how they play out.”
The First Years’ Sports Festival seemed to go by in a flash after that. Once Mirio finished giving the athlete’s oath (which was a very impassioned speech that reminded Nighteye why he chose him as the next Symbol of Peace), the challenge wheel was spun, and a ‘King of the Hill’ game was decided as the first event.
Just as Izuku predicted, Mirio absolutely cleaned house. The entire time, he stood unmoving atop the hill with a solitary grin etched on his face. Whenever someone tried to shove, shoot, push, or kick him off his high horse, they would just phase right through him.
(Nighteye was exceptionally glad he reminded Izuku to fill out the paperwork to let Mirio use a DNA-encoded tracksuit for the festival. One could only imagine how funny/embarrassing it would have been if his protege accidentally showed off his butt to the entire viewing audience).
The second event was a four-person relay race. And despite Mirio’s team earning a fifteen-second penalty due to him placing first in the previous round, Tamaki, Nejire, and some pink-haired girl who was apparently friends with Nejire all teamed up with him.
The penalty hardly mattered in the end, as the first part of the relay involved scaling a rock wall, which Mirio completely bypassed by throwing the baton over the obstacle and passing right through it. From there, the rest of the race went smoothly, and Mirio’s team placed second.
The third round featured a tournament involving two combatants standing on a large balance beam and being forced to knock each other off. Of course, balance was one of the many skills Mirio had picked up during his journey of Quirk mastery, so landing a hit on him proved to be a challenge for each and every one of his opponents.
Even when Mirio went up against Tamaki, who used bird wings to keep himself aloft, all it took was one good punch to the bend, and his opponent was sent flying off course, where he soon plummeted to the ground.
By the end of the festival, Mirio stood at the top of the podium as the uncontested victor, his smile beaming brighter than it ever had before as his homeroom teacher hung the first-place medal around his neck.
As the crowd cheered, Nighteye felt himself swell with pride. He was glad the public could finally see Mirio for the true hero he was. He could already tell that when looking back on this moment, this would be seen as the genesis of one of the greatest heroes to ever live.
All he had to do now was call All Might over to his agency and seal the deal.
