"You'll understand when it happens," he said finally, turning slightly toward me. "What I meant back there."
I tilted my head. "Should I even bother asking for a translation?"
"No."
And with that supremely unhelpful answer, Todoroki walked away, leaving me standing alone in the hallway wondering what the hell just happened.
"That was unnecessarily intense." I muttered.
I watched him go, equal parts irritated and bemused.
What is it with this school and dramatic teenagers?
'So I got challenged. Twice. By two separate people with complexes the size of Tokyo. And one of them won't even explain why.'
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
'Fantastic. Just what I needed after today.'
The hallway had mostly cleared out by now. A few stragglers remained—mostly students waiting for their parents or getting last-minute instructions from teachers. The atmosphere had shifted from chaotic relief to exhausted aftermath.
I started walking toward the exit again, this time without interruption. My mind drifting as I moved through the corridors, boots echoing against polished floors.
Despite incurring no damage and being in no danger of any sort since the start of events, today had been... a lot.
Still, I couldn't help but evaluate what Todoroki said.
Today's events, marked the early appearance and ending of U.S.J, as well as the prime beginning of Canon screwup.
And according to said Canon, the next major event should still be the sports festival.
The Sports Festival.
A tournament-style competition where students from all three hero course classes would face off in front of the entire country. Scouts, pro heroes, media outlets—everyone would be watching.
It was the biggest opportunity we'd have to make a name for ourselves. And Todoroki wanted to beat me specifically.
'Great. Just what I needed. Another rival.'
As if Bakugo's explosive ego wasn't enough. Honestly, I didn't expect to find myself in what was supposed to be Deku's role.
That aside though. The sports festival was actually the least of my concerns. As unless Canon changes affected the festival format to one I couldn't handle, I was going to be the final winner.
In contrast, I had bigger things to worry about
'Alright, let's think about this logically.'
Fighting actual villains. Saving All Might. Lying to Nezu's face. And experiencing what it feels like to kill for the first time.
That last part still sat a bit heavy in my gut. Dozens of villains had fallen. Including Shigaraki and Kurogiri.
'Necessary,' I reminded myself. 'They were going after Mom. They would've killed my classmates. I didn't have a choice.'
But that logic didn't make the weight any lighter.
I didn't feel bad. Well, maybe I did.
I'd killed people today. Indirectly, sure—it was the shadow, not me directly—but the distinction felt flimsy. The shadow was me. An extension of my will, following my intent.
Taking a life in society was the greatest sin, and the consequences that came with it was just as dire. Regardless of the intent behind it, one could never be looked at the same again. Only a born serial killer would be able to adapt to such a thing so easily. So did I feel bad? Yes. Did I regret my actions. Maybe a bit. Would I change it? Absolutely not. Justifying it might be morally wrong, but Shigaraki and Kurogiri had it coming.
The fourth power itself was... complicated.
It had manifested during the battle trial, right before everything went to hell.
I'd first felt it during the battle training exercise, right before everything went completely sideways. A faint tugging sensation initially, like something pulling at the very edge of my awareness. Then sudden clarity—an extension of myself that was somehow separate yet intrinsically connected.
The mechanics were straightforward.
My shadow could act independently. Move, fight, think—within certain parameters and limitations. It wasn't truly sentient or sapient, more like an advanced autopilot system programmed with my instincts, knowledge, and combat experience. But it responded to my will instantly and near-perfectly.
It also functioned as a storage space. Physical objects could be hidden within the shadow's dimensional pocket, then retrieved when needed. Weapons, tools, supplies—whatever I could physically fit. There were definite limits on mass, size, and density, but the tactical utility was undeniable.
It could blend into shadows and hide in someone else's shadow. I could share it's senses and it even had a teleportation function of allowing me to travel to its location once every Five hours.
Combat-wise, the shadow possessed exactly half my physical capabilities when manifested. Strength, speed, durability, reflexes—all split evenly between us. Which meant when my shadow was actively deployed and fighting, I was operating at only fifty percent of my full power. A significant trade-off.
But in exchange, I effectively had a second combatant. One that couldn't be conventionally killed by attack on vital parts that would be considered fatal for anyone else.
Headshot? Beheading? Heart rupture? Bisected in half? Ineffective. It couldn't be killed, only destroyed—and even then, I could simply reform it in a little while by condensing another shadow.
The disadvantages? It's destruction would cost me the invested power that was split between us. Meaning I would lose half of my physical abilities permanently.
A considerable letdown but the shadow could take risks I couldn't, go places I wouldn't, execute strategies that would be suicidal for a normal person, and all under an anonymous identity.
Unless someone specifically saw it condensing back as my shadow, no one would be able to pin that it belonged to me. That was further reinforced by the fact that it couldn't use anything else. No Infinity or Quirk Extinguishing rods sadly. It also wasn't immune to all attacks once disconnected from me as it would be taking corporal form and as a result, could be touched and damaged.
Which made it devastating in close combat but vulnerable to Quirk-based attacks. One shadow per person, unfortunately. Can't spam shadow soldiers like a certain Monarch from that manhwa or a blond kid fox whiskers.
The power had actually shown up at an incredibly inconvenient time. My first three abilities had manifested within the first three weeks after arriving in this world. Quick, efficient, easy to understand and practice.
The fourth? Took nearly a full goddamn year to finally appear.
Thanks for nothing, whatever cosmic force is giving me these powers. Really appreciate the consistency.
I'd initially planned to use the shadow very differently during today's attack. My strategy had been to hide it inside Kurogiri's body during the chaos, let them teleport away thinking they'd escaped, then use the shadow to track exactly where my classmates had been scattered. Maybe even trace it all the way back to All For One's main hideout if I got really lucky.
A perfect long-term intelligence operation.
But then Shigaraki had opened his crusty mouth and made his intentions crystal clear.
Going after my mother.
At that exact moment, subtlety had gone straight out the window and into the incinerator.
Some decisions make themselves unfortunately.
Could I have handled the situation better with more time and planning? Probably. Should I have found a smarter solution? Maybe. But I'm not Nezu with his superhuman intellect. I'm just a teenager with poorly understood powers and meta-knowledge that's becoming less reliable by the day.
Still, the immediate results spoke for themselves clearly enough.
Shigaraki Tomura and Kurogiri were permanently dead. The League of Villains' entire leadership structure had been decapitated before they could truly begin their campaign of terror against hero society.
My classmates had survived. All Might had survived. U.A.'s students were safe. Still, killing Shigaraki and Kurogiri had consequences beyond the immediate moral weight.
All For One was still out there. The real mastermind and the one remaining major threat on my radar.
The ancient demon lord of the quirk world himself. A master strategist, a patient manipulator, someone who'd survived well over a century specifically by playing the longest possible game. And now, with his primary agents dead and his plans disrupted, he'd go to ground. Rebuild. Plot.
'Which means I'm back to square one trying to predict a guy who's been playing 4D chess for over a century.'
The meta-knowledge I'd relied on was essentially useless now. Canon had been thoroughly derailed. Shigaraki and Kurogiri were supposed to survive and grow stronger. The USJ incident was supposed to happen at the actual USJ facility, not Ground Beta during a random training exercise.
Everything had changed.
Just great. Absolutely perfect.
I mentally ran through my current power ceiling, trying to establish a realistic assessment.
With Infinity, Quirk Extinguishment, Superhuman Physical Prowess, and now Shadow... I'm solidly in the top five strongest individuals in the entire world right now. Defensively speaking, I was number one.
My competitors?
All Might at his prime power and All Might right now. All For One with his stockpiled Quirks, Stars and Stripes, and high-end Nomu specifically designed as Anti-All Might weapons.
Anyone else in the world? I could handle them with reasonable confidence.
But those four specific threats? Deeply uncertain outcomes.
All Might was severely weakened now after his injury, and I possessed Quirk Extinguishment. In pure theory, I should be able to defeat him in a straight fight. But his decades of combat experience, Quirk power, pure outpacing speed and ridiculous battle instincts were absolutely terrifying to consider facing.
Stars and Stripes possessed reality-warping rule-based powers. Depending on exactly how her Quirk's mechanics interacted with mine, it could go either way. Maybe Infinity would protect me. Maybe it wouldn't. Too many variables.
And Nomu were walking biological disasters. Mindless, absolutely relentless, built from the ground up specifically to counter and kill All Might.
They couldn't break my barriers but there was no way I could land a good enough hit to beat them. My attack power was the only thing severely lacking in my current build. Against All Might, one hit would end it. Against U.S.J and High End NOMU? Quirk Extinguishment literally made no difference.
Their strength was purely biological. The paralysis effect would be negligible. It would be a tough fight.
Honestly, All For One looked the least difficult to deal with in this group. I might be wrong but that was how I current saw it.
The main exit loomed ahead, bright sunlight streaming through the open double doors.
And standing just outside the entrance, anxiously scanning the growing crowd of arriving parents and guardians, was an extremely familiar figure.
I exhaled slowly, pushing the thoughts aside as I reached the main entrance.
The gates were open. Parents and guardians crowded the courtyard, their expressions ranging from relieved to furious to barely-holding-it-together.
I scanned the crowd, looking for—
"REI!"
There she was.
My mother stood near the edge of crowd, spotting me almost immediately, her expression transforming from worry into profound relief in an instant.
'Oh boy.'
I sighed internally and walked toward her, already mentally bracing myself for the inevitable emotional interrogation.
She closed the distance quickly, hands immediately reaching up to cup my face, turning my head left and right as she visually checked me over for any possible injuries.
"I'm completely fine, Mom," I said, gently but firmly pulling her hands away from my face. "Not a single scratch. See?"
"Not a scratch?" Her voice rose slightly in pitch, stress evident.
"I was so worried! When the school called and said there'd been an attack—that villains had invaded—I thought—"
"I know. I'm sorry you had to worry. But I promise I'm okay. Completely unharmed."
She looked me over one more thorough time with a mother's critical eye. Well, more like her version of Meta Eye.
Then, she pulled me back into the hug, holding on like I might disappear if she let go.
Over her shoulder, I caught sight of a few classmates watching the scene. Ashido gave me a sympathetic smile. Kaminari looked away awkwardly.
Momo had a slight smile. Even Bakugo—still arguing with his own parents—glanced over with something that might've been understanding before scowling and looking away.
'Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, everyone.'
After what felt like an eternity, Mom finally released me, wiping her eyes with shaking hands.
"We're going home," she declared, voice steadier now but still thick with emotion. "Right now. And you're telling me everything."
"Everything?" I asked weakly.
"Everything," she confirmed, her mom-voice activating. "What happened, who you fought, how you stayed safe—all of it."
I sighed.
"It's kind of a long story."
"Then you'll have plenty of time to tell it on the way home." She grabbed my hand—like I was seven again and might wander off—and started pulling me toward the parking lot.
The drive home was quiet at first.
Mom kept glancing at me from the driver's seat, like she needed constant visual confirmation that I was still there. Her knuckles were white on the steering wheel.
"So," she finally said, voice carefully controlled. "Start from the beginning. What happened?"
I took a breath. "We were doing battle training. Heroes versus villains exercise in one of the training facilities. Everything was normal until..." I paused. "Until it wasn't."
"The villains attacked during your class?"
"Yeah. They used some kind of portal Quirk to get past security. Appeared right in the middle of Ground Beta." Her grip on the wheel tightened. "And then?"
I didn't need to be a genius to know she was not taking this all that well. However, I wasn't about to lie on details she could obviously uncover with a phone call so I kept going.
"..... Then Some villains tried to attack us, but between my Quirk and working with my classmates, we managed."
"Define 'managed.'"
"No one on our team got hurt. We protected each other and held our ground until the pro heroes arrived."
That was technically true. Just... heavily edited.
She was quiet for a moment, processing. "The news said there were casualties."
"Villains," I said quickly. "Only villains. None of the students were seriously hurt."
"But students were kidnapped," she pressed. "The school said some were taken off-campus."
"They were rescued," I assured her. "The authorities found them and brought them back. Everyone's accounted for."
She exhaled slowly, some tension leaving her shoulders. "Thank god."
We drove in silence for a few minutes. I watched the cityscape roll by—normal people going about their normal lives, completely unaware that U.A. had just been attacked. 'By tomorrow, it'll be all over the news. "League of Villains Attacks U.A. High School."'
Mom fell into deep thought once I finished. Then, she laughed. Short, hysterical, but genuine. "My son. My seventeen-year-old son helped save All Might's life."
"It sounds weird when you say it out loud."
"It is weird!" She shook her head, a smile finally breaking through the worry. "It's completely insane. And I'm so proud of you I could burst. And also so terrified I want to wrap you in bubble wrap and never let you leave the house again."
"Please don't do that second thing."
"I'm considering it," she said, but her tone was lighter now. "Seriously, Ken. What you did today... that took real courage. Real heroism."
"I just did what needed to be done."
"That's what heroes say." She reached over and squeezed my hand briefly before returning it to the wheel. "But you're still my baby. And I'm allowed to be terrified for you."
"Fair enough."
We pulled into our neighborhood as the sun began its descent, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. Normal houses. Normal streets. Normal lives.
It felt surreal after everything that had happened today.
Mom parked in our driveway and killed the engine, but neither of us moved immediately.
"Ken," she said quietly. "I need you to promise me something."
"What?"
"Promise me you'll be careful. I know you're training to be a hero. I know danger comes with the territory. But..." Her voice cracked slightly. "I can't lose you again. I can't go through that again."
The weight of those words hit harder than any villain attack.
She'd already lost me once. Ten years of not knowing if I was alive or dead. Ten years of searching, hoping, grieving.
And then I'd come back—different, changed, with gaps in my memory and powers I couldn't fully explain.
"I promise," I said, meaning it. "I'll be as careful as I can be. And I'll always come home."
She nodded, blinking back fresh tears. "Good. Because if you don't, I'll march into whatever afterlife you end up in and drag you back by your ear."
I couldn't help but smile. "That's terrifying and comforting at the same time."
"Mom privilege." She wiped her eyes one last time and opened her door. "Come on. Let's get inside. I'll make dinner and you can tell me more about your classmates. The ones who aren't trying to blow things up, preferably."
Dinner was a surprisingly normal affair.
Mom made her specialty—katsu curry—and I filled her in on the less traumatic aspects of U.A. life. My classmates, the teachers, the absurd intensity of hero training even before villains got involved.
She laughed when I described Bakugo's permanent state of rage. Smiled when I mentioned Midoriya's analytical mumbling. Raised an eyebrow when I casually mentioned Yaoyorozu.
"This Yaoyorozu girl," Mom said, tone deceptively casual as she set down her tea.
"You've mentioned her a few times now."
"Have I?" I asked, suddenly very interested in my curry.
"Mm-hmm. Smart, talented, good in a crisis... pretty, I assume?"
"I mean, objectively speaking—"
"Uh-huh." Her smile turned knowing. "Should I be expecting to meet her at some point?"
"Mom."
"I'm just saying, if you're interested—"
"Can we not do this right now?"
She laughed, holding up her hands in surrender. "Fine, fine. I'll drop it. For now."
'Note to self: be more careful about which classmates I mention around Mom.'
After dinner, I helped with dishes—a normal routine that felt almost bizarre after today's chaos. We moved around the kitchen in comfortable silence, the kind that only comes from familiarity.
"You should probably get some rest," Mom said as I dried the last plate. "It's been a long day."
"Yeah." I glanced at the clock. Only 7 PM, but it felt like midnight. "I'm exhausted."
"I'll bet." She pulled me into another quick hug.
"Thanks, Mom."
I headed upstairs to my room, closing the door behind me with a soft click.
My room. My space.
Posters on the walls—Bookshelves lined with novels, manga, textbooks and my writing materials. My desk, currently buried under notebooks and loose papers.
I collapsed onto my bed, staring at the ceiling.
'What a day.'
My phone sat on the nightstand, mercifully quiet for the moment. I considered checking it, then decided against it. Whatever messages were waiting could wait until tomorrow.
Instead, I let my mind wander through the day's events one more time. The fight. The lies. The decisions that had felt inevitable in the moment but now sat heavy in retrospect.
'I killed people today.'
The thought wouldn't leave me alone, no matter how much I tried to rationalize it.
'I didn't have a choice.'
It was said that a person could make peace with their actions once they could properly justify it with a good enough reason.
Wasn't my reason good enough? Because knowing it was necessary didn't make it feel better.
I wondered if this was how heroes felt after their first real battle. That strange disconnect between doing what had to be done and processing the weight of those actions afterward.
'Probably varies from person to person. Some handle it better than others.'
Time passed.
A soft knock on my door interrupted my spiraling thoughts.
"Rei?" Mom's voice, slightly hesitant. "Are you still awake?"
"Yeah. Come in."
The door opened and she stepped inside, her expression odd—somewhere between concerned and... was that excitement? Confusion?
"What's wrong?" I asked, sitting up.
"Wrong? Nothing's wrong, exactly. It's just..." She held up her phone. "Rei, you're all over the news."
I blinked. "The U.A. attack?"
That didn't seem right.
I mean, sure I fought alongside All Might and was technically the protagonist of that battle, but I doubt that would be publicized by the school. At most they would leave a vague statement that the students of U.A defended themselves splendidly.
Keeping it as minimal as possible for our own protection.
Not boast about my strength to all of Japan
So why?
Unless ...
"No." She shook her head, her expression growing more bewildered. "Not the attack. Something else entirely. You need to see this."
My stomach dropped.
'Oh no.'
"What do you mean 'all over the news'?" I asked carefully, already dreading the answer.
Had I been discovered?
Had my shadow been linked to me somehow?
"Just... look." She handed me her phone.
The screen showed a news article. The headline was particularly eyecatching.
"BESTSELLING AUTHOR K.T.R.T IDENTITY REVEALED: 17-YEAR-OLD U.A FIRST YEAR STUDENT KEN TAKUMI"
".."
I blinked.
"Huh?"
___
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