Ryo climbed the last steps of the subway station with heavy footsteps, feeling the cold morning air hit his face, still sensitive from the light burns. The tight bandages on his arms reminded him with every movement of the stupidity he had committed during training — and of the absurd explosion he had faced head-on.
As soon as he emerged to the surface, he pulled his phone from his pocket. The screen was covered in flashing headlines:
"ATTACK IN MANHATTAN — HUMANOID ROBOT KILLS CAPTAIN CELEBRITY."
"STAR AND STRIPES INTERVENES: CRISIS CONTAINED?"
"American Government on Maximum Alert."
The entire feed was drowned in the same tragedy.
Ryo frowned, his cold expression hardening even more.
"These journalists are going to squeeze every last drop out of this…" he muttered.
He pocketed the phone and headed toward U.A. The moment he saw the gates, he realized what awaited him: a swarm of reporters squeezing together like a horde of zombies, cameras and microphones raised like spears ready to strike.
He barely took two steps before the first one lunged at him.
"Young man! Young man! What's it like studying with the Symbol of Peace as your teacher?!"
Ryo grimaced automatically and pushed the microphone away with the back of his hand.
"No comments."
But before he could continue walking, another reporter slid up beside him:
"Could you tell us what All Might is like in class? Is he very strict? Inspiring?"
He dodged, irritated. But the third was even more invasive; the man literally shoved the microphone against his cheek.
"Do you believe All Might will do anything about the incident in the U.S.? Do you think he'll travel to—"
"SHUT UP!" Ryo exploded.
His voice echoed so loudly that several stepped back instinctively.
The Inert Transition activated unconsciously — his eyes turned pitch-black, with glowing radioactive-green irises.
The reporters paled.
"W-What was that…?"
"He got angry out of nowhere…"
"Tsk… we just wanted information…"
They opened a path almost instinctively, and Ryo advanced, his steps heavy and filled with rage. He muttered curses under his breath, swearing at the insistence, the intrusion, the media, everything.
Inside U.A., the silent hallway brought a slight sense of relief, but not enough to soften his expression.
When he opened the classroom door, Kirishima was the first to turn with his usual smile:
"Hey Takeda! Good mor—"
The smile died the moment he saw his classmate's face.
"U-uh… dude, are you… are you okay?"
"No." Ryo answered bluntly, not stopping.
Kirishima raised his hands, stepping aside.
"Alright, alright. I'll give you space, bro."
Ryo headed to his desk and dropped into the chair, letting out a tired sigh, almost mentally exhausted. Leaning back, he looked up, bored and irritated with the entire world.
Mina approached Kirishima and whispered:
"Wow… the reporters must've gone really hard on him, huh?"
"Probably." Kirishima scratched his head and glanced around. "By the way… did you guys notice? Dash isn't here yet."
Sero, who had just walked up holding his backpack by one strap, added:
"I noticed too. He always arrives early, just like me. But today… nothing."
"Do you think it has to do with the news…?" Mina asked, biting her lip.
The three fell silent for a few seconds, until Aizawa walked in dragging his sleeping bag as always.
"Sit down." he said, and everyone automatically returned to their seats.
The class settled down. Aizawa scanned the room, assessing. His eyes stopped exactly to Ryo's left, on the empty desk.
He let out a heavy sigh.
"…Dash's day probably isn't going to be easy after that news," he murmured, more to himself than to the class.
He straightened the papers in his hand and returned to his professional tone.
"Alright. Let's get to the point. You all did reasonably well in yesterday's battle training. I looked at the evaluations and—"
He focused on Bakugo.
"Bakugo. Grow up already. Stop wasting your talent on useless things."
Bakugo clenched his teeth.
"Tch… got it."
Aizawa turned to Ryo.
"Takeda. Control your emotions. A hero can't be provoked so easily."
Ryo huffed, straightforward:
"Yeah, I got that."
"Too late for that." Aizawa shot back without hesitation.
Ryo looked away, clearly irritated but not in the mood to argue.
Finally, Aizawa turned to Midoriya.
"Midoriya. You broke your finger… but you ranked second in the overall score. That does not mean you did a great job. Your quirk control is still practically nonexistent. Trying isn't enough. You have potential — it's up to you to learn how to use it."
Midoriya flushed red, but determined.
"Y-Yes, sir! I'll work on that!"
Aizawa nodded, continuing on.
"Now… let's get to the main topic of the day," he said, voice dragging. "Sorry for the sudden notice, but… you'll have to choose a class president."
For half a second, only silence.
And then hell opened its gates.
"I WANT TO BE PRESIDENT!" Kirishima raised his hand, already half-standing, smiling with confidence.
"I'm the most qualified to be the leader!" Kaminari raised his hand too, trying to look serious… and failing.
"Move aside, you useless extras!" Bakugo practically roared, slamming his hand on the desk. "THE PRESIDENT WILL BE ME!"
Jirō calmly raised her hand despite being surrounded by all the yelling.
"I want to as well…"
In contrast to the chaos, Ryo simply leaned back in his chair, half-lidded eyes, expression of pure exhaustion. That mix of shouting, inflated egos, and idiotic arguments… it only drained what little patience he had left.
"No way…," he thought, exhaling slowly. "Responsibility like that? Not for me. Over my dead body."
As the commotion grew louder, Iida raised his hand as if conducting a national assembly.
"Please! Everyone, remain composed!" His voice cut through the chatter, grabbing their attention. "A true leader must be chosen fairly! Therefore, I propose an election so we can decide by majority vote!"
Heads turned. The idea, surprisingly, seemed reasonable enough to calm even Bakugo for a moment.
Aizawa shrugged, accepting any solution that would reduce his headache.
"Do as you want. Just decide already."
Minutes later, everyone wrote their votes on slips of paper. The atmosphere was far less chaotic as Aizawa collected the results.
"Alright…" he muttered, examining the ballots. "Class president will be… Izuku Midoriya. Four votes."
Izuku froze.
"EH!? M-ME!?" He turned red instantly, nearly sinking into his chair.
"And the vice-president will be… Momo Yaoyorozu, with two votes."
Momo adjusted her hair with a polite — yet visibly surprised — smile.Izuku was still trying to understand how anyone besides himself would vote for him.
Ryo looked at Midoriya and smiled.
"Four votes, huh. Guess he didn't need mine…"
Meanwhile, Bakugo exploded — not literally, but close.
"WHAT THE— WHO'S THE MORON THAT VOTED FOR DEKU!?"
Aizawa nudged his sleeping bag.
"If you complain, I'll settle it with rock-paper-scissors. So stay quiet now."
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[Location: N.C.R.C.D.Q., General Clinical Sector – Block A, Psychiatric Room 03]
The white fluorescent light flickered on the ceiling, emitting an irritating buzz. Ryo's attending psychiatrist, Dr. Hasegawa, sat at the desk, hunched over the freshly printed report. His hands were trembling. His forehead was damp. He discreetly wiped the sweat with his sleeve, but the anxiety only grew worse.
Yesterday's exam…
The charts, the hormonal levels, the changes in the neural pattern, the emotional log.
Ryo Tanaka had been stabilizing. After the last 10 months of being a borderline case between extreme emotional instability and severe hallucinations, the boy had been improving.
And improving very quickly.
His decision to try for U.A. — though unexpected — had apparently triggered something in him. Since then, the episodes had decreased. That pathological emotional detachment seemed less… aggressive. Even the hallucinations, once nearly daily, had become rare, spaced out, almost extinguished.
The doctor turned the page slowly, as if afraid the paper might explode.
"No, no, no…" he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "The director is going to kill me…"
He knew this would reach the top again.
And he knew what the director thought about Ryo Tanaka's lack of "instability."
Especially when it could jeopardize the plans.
Hasegawa closed the report, pressing his lips together as if carrying guilt and fear at the same time. He paced through the narrow room, quick and short steps, trying to come up with an explanation that didn't sound like complete incompetence.
Finally, he stopped in front of the desk again, bracing his hands firmly against the wood.
"Letting Tanaka enter U.A.…," he murmured in a tense whisper. "It was a terrible idea for our plans."
----------------------------------------
The U.A. cafeteria was as large as a gymnasium, lit by huge windows and filled with long tables arranged in orderly rows. The smell of homemade, freshly prepared food drifted through the air. Ryo ate in silence, steady and focused, as if this were a small personal ritual.
He tasted another piece of meat, almost frustrated with how good it was.
"If only I could make something like this at home…" he thought, resting his elbow on the table. "Maybe I should actually learn how to cook properly. Or stop pretending I know how to."
But his thoughts were abruptly cut off by the cheerful voice beside him:
"The rice is so good!" Uraraka said with a bright smile, holding her bowl of rice as if it were a treasure.
Ryo blinked, remembering he wasn't alone. He shared the table with Midoriya, Iida, Uraraka… and Kirishima, who ate like he was replenishing the energy of the entire universe.
Midoriya fidgeted with his chopsticks, tense.
"I—I still don't know if I should really be class president…" he admitted, face growing red. "I'm not that good at leading…"
Iida almost slammed his hand on the table, energized.
"Midoriya. You possess all the necessary qualities for the role—integrity, empathy, dedication!" he declared with as much formality as humanly possible.
"R-Really?" Midoriya's eyes widened.
"Yes. You fit the role of guiding us perfectly. That is why I voted for you myself."
Kirishima leaned forward.
"Aw, man… but I really wanted to be class president. It would've been so cool!" he said before stuffing a huge bite into his mouth. "But hey, Midoriya's gonna do great!"
Then his bright red eyes turned to Ryo.
"And you, Takeda!? Didn't wanna be president?"
Ryo stayed silent for a few seconds. Long seconds. The kind of pause that almost made Kirishima squirm waiting for an answer.
"No." he finally said, sounding half-dead. "Too much paperwork… and too much responsibility for other people. Not my thing."
Kirishima laughed awkwardly.
"Ah… but it'd be kinda cool, y'know?"
Ryo looked at him directly, tone more serious than before.
"Never accept a position you don't have the capacity to uphold or manage.That's how you drag it down. And it drags you with it."
Kirishima froze for an instant… then laughed again, with a touch of embarrassment.
"Y-Yeah… put that way, it is kinda scary."
Iida pointed a hand toward Ryo, energized.
"An extremely rational analysis! A commendable sense of responsibility in your decisions, Takeda!"
Ryo, however, only lowered his eyes to his tray.
"Responsibility, nothing…" he thought bitterly. "I just don't want anyone nagging me. Being class president would be a nightmare."
The mood at the table was light, small conversations blending with the clinking of utensils and the aroma of food.
Outside, the press continued pushing and crowding like a flock of vultures seeking scraps of headlines. The noise was constant, loud, and irritating.
Then, a hooded man walked through the crowd.
"Hey! Watch where you're going, man!" a reporter complained after being shoved aside.
The stranger didn't answer.
He simply walked up to the school's steel gate… and placed both hands on it.
In the same instant, the metal began to tremble and deteriorate. Rust appeared as if decades had passed, spreading in seconds until the entire gate crumbled into dust.
A heavy silence fell over everyone. No one breathed. The U.A. gate that had blocked them simply… ceased to exist.
At first, nobody knew if it was a joke. But shock turned to ambition. The spark of headline hunger clicked — and then the reporters began pushing their way into the campus.
At the same time, inside the massive cafeteria, a metallic voice echoed through the speakers, cutting through hundreds of conversations:
"SECURITY ALERT — LEVEL THREE. PERIMETER BREACH DETECTED. ALL STUDENTS MUST EVACUATE IN AN ORDERLY MANNER."
Trays clattered against tables, chairs scraped the floor, and panic spread instantly.
"What's happening!?" Uraraka stood up, eyes wide.
"Level three…?" Iida held his glasses. "What does that mean!?"
A student running by shouted:
"It means someone broke into the school! We have to leave now!"
Kirishima was already on his feet, urgently patting Ryo's shoulder.
"Takeda! C'mon, man! Get up! We gotta evacuate!"
Ryo calmly finished his last spoonful of rice before lifting his eyes. He sighed softly and stood — unhurried, to Kirishima's despair.
The group followed the flow toward the exit… but soon the crowd became a compact, dangerous mass stuck at the doorway.
Ryo stopped, frowned, and pointed at the suffocating cluster:
"Do you really think it's safe to go through that?"
Iida looked again. Students were shoving, tripping, some nearly falling.
It was extremely dangerous.
"You're right… this is far too risky!" the boy with glasses agreed. "If someone falls, they'll be crushed!"
"So what are we gonna do then?" Midoriya asked, nervous.
"Guys!" Kirishima called, looking out the window. "The reporters… they're outside. Like… a LOT of reporters!"
Uraraka covered her mouth.
"H-How did they get in!?"
Iida's expression changed immediately.
"So that was it! They mistook the press for an actual attack! We must correct this misunderstanding before someone gets hurt!"
"But how are we gonna do that?" Midoriya glanced around, lost.
Ryo stepped forward, walking into the middle of the frantic flow of students — and then stopped halfway. He took a deep breath. His eyes darkened slightly, the green of his irises intensifying.
"EVERYONE CALM DOWN!!!"
His voice exploded like thunder trapped in a metal chamber. The impact reverberated through the walls, echoing across the entire cafeteria. Students covered their ears, instantly freezing.
Silence dropped like a weight.
Ryo turned to Iida and nodded.
Iida stepped forward, regaining his breath and raising an arm in disciplined fashion.
"Please, remain calm!" he announced firmly. "There are no dangerous intruders! It is only the press entering the campus! There is no reason to panic!"
The tension slowly began to fade, a collective murmur replacing the earlier screams.
Kirishima appeared beside Ryo and gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder.
"You nailed it, man!"
Ryo winced lightly at the impact, rubbing his shoulder.
"…It was nothing." he muttered without looking at him.
Inside, though, the truth was different:
"I just didn't want to get crushed or suffocated by that hysterical crowd."
But, of course, no one needed to know that.
----------------------------------------
When the alarm was finally deactivated and the students were allowed to return to their classrooms, the atmosphere was a mix of exhaustion and relief. Class 1-A entered little by little, still talking about the chaos in the cafeteria and the flood of journalists who had invaded the campus.
Ryo was one of the last to walk in, hands in his pockets, quiet steps. He took his seat and let out a soft sigh, letting his body sink into the chair as he rubbed his temple.
At the front of the room, Midoriya and Momo positioned themselves — the newly elected class president and vice-president.
Midoriya cleared his throat, visibly nervous, his hands trembling slightly over the improvised podium.
"Go ahead, Class President," Momo said calmly, gesturing with her hand.
"H-hm… W-We'd like to choose the other members of the student council! But… before that…" He took a deep breath. "After what happened today, I realized I might not be the most suitable person for the role. I… don't think I have the ideal profile to lead the class yet."
The classmates watched him in silence, some tilting their heads, others simply waiting for what would come next.
"That's why—" he continued, now with more firmness, "I'd like to pass the position of class president to Iida. You all saw how he guided everyone through the chaos. I think he's the best choice to represent our class."
A murmur of approval spread through the room.
Kirishima raised a thumbs-up.
"Seconded! Iida's super reliable!"
"I agree!" Uraraka smiled. "He kind of already did that today."
"No objections," Ryo said, without much emotion.
Iida froze for a few seconds, as if his internal operating system had crashed. When he finally remembered to breathe, he bowed formally.
"Everyone… I… I will do everything in my power to honor this position! Thank you for your trust!"
The students clapped lightly, excited about the decision.
Ryo simply observed from afar, resting his chin on his hand. His eyes then drifted to the empty desk to his left.
Dash's absence was still very noticeable to him.
"He's lucky he didn't go through today's mess," Ryo thought as he adjusted himself in his chair.
But a subtle prick of curiosity settled in his mind.
"How, exactly, did the reporters manage to get past U.A.'s gate? That wasn't something simple. Not something possible without breaching high-level security."
He leaned back, silent, as Aizawa finished his nap and began resuming the lesson.
But the uncomfortable feeling clung to the back of his mind — something big was coming, and it wouldn't be good.