Chapter 15: The Projection of a Dream
The afternoon heat was stifling, distorting the air above the asphalt into shimmering waves of mirage—a visual trick Kaito was still learning to filter out. He stood in the genkan (entryway), his body rigid, his hand hovering just millimeters from the door handle.
He wasn't using his Quirk. He didn't need to. His hearing, sharpened by a decade of darkness, picked up the distinct hum of a motorbike engine turning onto his street. He heard the deceleration, the downshift, and the crunch of tires rolling to a stop directly in front of the Kurosawa gate.
Footsteps approached. Heavy, purposeful boots on gravel.
Outside, the mailman reached out, his gloved finger extending toward the doorbell button.
Click. Clack.
The door swung open before the man could even touch the plastic.
The mailman flinched, his hand frozen in mid-air. He blinked, startled by the sudden appearance of the boy in the doorway—messy black hair, pale skin, and intense, pitch-black eyes that seemed to vibrate with a terrifying mixture of anxiety and anticipation.
"Oh!" The mailman stammered, stepping back. "You... you were waiting?"
"Is that it?" Kaito asked, his voice tight, ignoring the question. His gaze locked onto the white box in the man's hands. "Is that the package for Kurosawa Kaito?"
"Uh, yes. It is," the mailman checked his electronic pad, unnerved by the boy's intensity. "I need a signature. Are you a relative?"
"I am him," Kaito said.
He took the stylus. His hand shook slightly as he signed. His handwriting was still jagged—a friction between his muscle memory of blindness and his new, clumsy visual coordination. He handed the pad back and took the box.
It wasn't physically heavy—perhaps only a kilogram or two—but as Kaito held it, his arms dipped slightly. It felt dense. It felt weighted with the gravity of his entire future, heavy with the hopes of his parents and the promise he had made to himself.
"Thank you," Kaito whispered, and closed the door before the mailman could say another word.
The dining table had been cleared of everything else. No teacups, no fruit, no distractions. Just the white box with the gold U.A. wax seal gleaming under the kitchen lights.
The silence in the Kurosawa house was thick enough to choke on.
Haru sat at the head of the table, his arms crossed, his face a mask of stoic tension. He wasn't calculating probabilities today; he was simply a father terrified for his son. Aoi stood beside Kaito's chair, her hand resting on his shoulder, squeezing it so hard her knuckles were white.
And Kaito sat in the center, staring at the gold seal. To his new eyes, the intricate design of the 'U' and 'A' was mesmerizing, a symbol of a world that felt lightyears away.
"Open it," Haru said softly.
Kaito swallowed dryly. He reached out, his vision tracing the sharp edges of the cardboard. He broke the seal.
Rrrrip.
He lifted the lid.
There was no paper inside. No certificate. Nestled in a bed of black foam was a round, sleek metal device.
Kaito picked it up. It was cold against his palm. "A projector?" he whispered.
CLICK.
A beam of light shot upward, startling Aoi. Dust motes danced in the cone of blue light as it solidified into a high-definition hologram hovering in the air above their table.
"I AM HERE! AS A PROJECTION!"
Kaito's eyes widened, reflecting the blue glow. He didn't focus on the colors this time. He focused on the face. The sharp, shadowed jawline. The rabbit-ear hair. The overwhelming, impossible smile.
"It's All Might," Kaito breathed, the name feeling like a prayer. "The Number One Hero."
Haru's eyes narrowed slightly, analyzing the recording, but he remained silent, respecting the gravity of the message.
"Young Kurosawa!" All Might's voice boomed, filling the small kitchen with an energy that vibrated in the windows. "You have been waiting! The grading process this year was exceptionally difficult! But let us get straight to the details!"
The hologram shifted. A digital document appeared in the air.
"First, the Written Exam!"
Kaito flinched, bracing himself.
"Your score was... Average! You attained a 72%!" All Might nodded gravely. "You left the final section completely blank!"
"I ran out of time," Kaito whispered, shame coloring his cheeks. He looked at his hands. "Reading... it's still slow for me. The letters... they take time to process. I couldn't read the questions fast enough."
Aoi rubbed his shoulder gently, her eyes soft. "You did your best, Kaito. We know that."
"However!" All Might continued, his voice rising. "The written exam is only one part of the hero equation! Let us look at the Practical Exam!"
The screen changed. A scoreboard appeared, glowing with harsh red numbers.
Villain Points: 36.
"Thirty-six points!" All Might shouted. "You started very slowly, wasting precious minutes at the gate! By the time you engaged, the targets were scarce! While your power is impressive, your hesitation was costly! The cutoff for the Hero Course is usually in the mid-forties!"
The air left the room.
Kaito closed his eyes. The darkness he found there was no longer comforting; it was just empty.
I failed.
The thought was a cold stone in his stomach. I was too slow. I spent too long adjusting to the chaos. I'm not ready.
"BUT!" All Might's voice roared, shaking the hologram and making Kaito's eyes snap open. "Is that all a hero is? Someone who breaks machines? Someone who hunts for glory?"
All Might slammed his fist into his open palm. "NO! This is a Hero Course! And a Hero Course that rejects those who save others is a fraud!"
The hologram changed again. It was now playing video footage.
Kaito gasped. It was grainy security footage from the battle center. He saw the massive leg of the Zero-Pointer crushing the street. The dust cloud was immense.
And he saw himself.
For the first time, he saw himself from the outside. He looked small. Fragile. But he wasn't running away like the others.
"Look at this!" All Might commanded. "The Zero-Pointer appeared! A threat worth no points! A logical student would run! But you..."
On the screen, Kaito stopped running. He looked up. Even through the grain, the violet aura of his Quirk was visible around his body.
"You engaged!"
The video showed Kaito flying up, erratic and desperate. It showed him thrusting his hands out, the purple energy flaring as he tried to crush the massive robot with gravity. It showed him straining, his veins popping, trying to fight an enemy that weighed thousands of tons. It showed him failing, his body shaking with the effort as the robot continued to advance.
"You tried to fight an impossible enemy to buy time!" All Might narrated. "You realized you could not stop it... but then you heard a voice!"
The video shifted. It showed Kaito abandoning the fight. It showed him turning his hands toward the falling Midoriya and the trapped Uraraka.
"You switched priorities instantly! You caught them!"
The video showed the debris lifting off Uraraka. It showed Midoriya stopping in mid-air, mere feet from death. It showed Kaito, sweating and exhausted, lowering them gently to the pavement while the dust swirled around them.
"Rescue Points!" All Might shouted. "A panel of judges watches your every move! For your bravery in facing the threat, and your precision in saving your competitors..."
A new number slammed onto the screen.
Rescue Points: 25.
Kaito stared. "Twenty-five?"
"Midoriya Izuku, the boy who smashed the villain, earned 40 points for his sacrifice!" All Might explained. "But you, Young Kurosawa, earned 25 points for ensuring he survived that sacrifice! We celebrate cooperation! We celebrate life!"
The numbers tallied up on the screen, glowing brightly.
36 + 25 = 61 Points.
"Sixty-one points!" All Might leaned into the camera, his hand outstretched as if to grab Kaito's hand through the light. "Kurosawa Kaito. You have passed."
The world seemed to spin.
"Your file notes your visual impairment, yet you saw what mattered most," All Might said, his voice softening to a gentle rumble. "Welcome to your Hero Academia. You are assigned to Class 1-A!"
The hologram flickered, All Might gave a thumbs up, and the light died.
The kitchen was silent.
Haru let out a breath he seemed to have been holding for ten minutes. He slumped back in his chair, a smile breaking across his face—a smile of pure, unadulterated relief. "Class 1-A," he murmured. "The top class. My son is in the top class."
Aoi was crying. She didn't try to hide it. She grabbed the box, pulling out the layer of foam. Underneath, folded neatly, was a gray blazer with dark green accents.
"Look," she sobbed, pulling the uniform out, her hands shaking as she smoothed the fabric. "It's your size. They... they made it for you."
Kaito stood up. His legs felt weak, like jelly. He reached out and touched the fabric of the uniform. It was rough, sturdy. Real.
"I passed," he whispered. He looked at his father, then his mother, his vision blurring with tears. "I really passed."
Haru stood up and walked around the table. He didn't say anything about calculations. He simply pulled Kaito into a fierce, crushing hug. "You did good, son. You did good."
Late that night, the house was asleep. The silence was different now—it wasn't heavy with waiting. It was peaceful.
Kaito stood in his room. The desk lamp was off. The only light came from the streetlamp outside, filtering through the curtains, casting long, silvery shadows across the floor.
He walked over to the full-length mirror on his closet door.
For the past two weeks, since regaining his sight, he had avoided this mirror. He would brush his teeth looking down. He would dress without looking. The face in the reflection had felt like a stranger's—someone he didn't know how to be yet.
But tonight, he faced it.
He stood there, staring at the boy in the glass. He saw the messy black hair that refused to lay flat. He saw the pale skin. He saw the slight frame that held so much power.
And he saw the eyes.
Pitch black. Deep, endless voids that swallowed the light. There were no pupils, just an abyss. But they were focused. They were sharp. They were staring back with a new intensity, a fire burning in the darkness.
He raised his hand and touched his own cheek in the reflection.
"I'm not the blind boy anymore," he whispered to the stranger in the glass. "I'm not the kid floating against the ceiling."
He picked up his phone from the nightstand. The screen lit up his face. He opened his messages and tapped on the contact he had affectionately nicknamed "Bird Head".
Kaito:I'm in.
He waited, watching the three dots appear almost instantly.
Bird Head:As am I. Class 1-A.
Kaito grinned, the blue light of the phone reflecting in his black eyes.
Kaito:Class 1-A here too. Looks like you're stuck with me.
Bird Head:A dark fate indeed. But a welcome one. Prepare yourself, Kaito. The real trial begins now.
Kaito set the phone down. He looked back at the mirror one last time. He straightened his posture, squaring his shoulders, mimicking the stance of a hero.
"Class 1-A," he whispered. "All Might is there. The boy who broke his bones is there."
He clenched his fist, watching the muscles in his forearm tighten—a visual confirmation of his own existence.
"I have to learn to fight with these eyes," he said softly to the silence. "I have to be ready."
He turned away from the mirror and stepped toward his bed...