The briefing hall swallowed them whole.
Izuku stepped through the doors and felt the sheer scale of the place hit him. Rows upon rows of seats stretched forward in a gentle curve, all facing a massive stage lined with screens and spotlights. The ceiling rose high overhead, dark and distant, making the hundreds of students below feel small in comparison.
Applicants filed in steadily, filling the space with the shuffle of feet and the low hum of nervous conversation. Izuku scanned the room as they walked, taking in the details he'd only ever seen through a screen. The U.A. logo emblazoned on the walls. The professional-grade sound system. The cameras mounted in corners, probably feeding footage to the teachers observing somewhere else in the building.
Bigger than it looked in the anime, he thought. Probably holds a thousand people easy.
"Whoa," Uraraka breathed beside him. "This place is huge."
"Yeah," Izuku agreed, still looking around. "Find any seats?"
She pointed toward the middle section, where a cluster of empty seats sat between a boy with spiky red hair and a girl with earphone jacks dangling from her earlobes. "Couple over there."
They slipped into the row about halfway up, weaving past knees and backpacks until they found two seats together. Izuku mumbled apologies as he passed, earning a few nods and one annoyed grunt. The cushions were surprisingly comfortable—leather, even. He filed that away as unnecessary but appreciated.
Uraraka settled in beside him, her eyes roaming the hall with obvious wonder. She reminded him of a kid in a candy store, except the candy was potential future heroes and the store was terrifyingly competitive.
"Look at all these people," she murmured. "Everyone here wants to be a hero. Every single person."
"Seems that way."
"Does that scare you?"
Izuku considered it. Not the question itself—he'd considered it many times over the past year—but how to answer honestly without sounding like a complete weirdo. "A little. Mostly just makes me wonder how many will actually make it."
Uraraka nodded slowly. "Yeah. That's fair. My parents were kind of worried about that too. They said the competition is insane."
"It is. But you wouldn't be here if you didn't have a shot."
She glanced at him, a small smile forming. "That's surprisingly encouraging coming from a stranger."
"We're not strangers anymore." He paused, pretending to think. "We're... exam buddies?"
Uraraka laughed—a real one, not the nervous kind from before. "Exam buddies. I like that."
His gaze drifted across the crowd, scanning faces out of habit. Looking for familiar characters from the show. There—that spiky red hair, definitely Kirishima, laughing with someone next to him about something Izuku couldn't hear. A few rows ahead, a girl with soft purple hair sat with her legs crossed, earbuds in, completely ignoring everyone around her—Jiro, probably. Near the aisle, a guy with tape dispensers on his elbows gestured wildly while talking to someone—Sero. And over there, near the left side, sitting alone like he wanted it that way—
Crimson eyes met his.
Bakugo sat stiffly in his seat, arms crossed, expression carved from granite. He'd spotted Izuku the same moment Izuku had spotted him. The crowd between them might as well have been invisible.
For a second, neither moved.
Then Izuku raised his hand in a small wave. Casual. Friendly. Like they were old classmates running into each other at a reunion.
Bakugo's eye twitched.
He clicked his tongue audibly—even from here, Izuku could hear it, that familiar sound of annoyance—and snapped his head forward, staring at the stage like Izuku didn't exist.
Izuku chuckled softly.
Same as always. Some things never change.
"Who are you waving at?" Uraraka asked, craning her neck to see.
"No one," Izuku said. "Just saw someone I know."
"The intense guy from earlier?"
"The very same."
Uraraka squinted in Bakugo's direction. "He doesn't look happy to see you."
"He never does."
"Harsh."
Izuku shrugged. "It's just how he is. We grew up together. Known him since we were kids."
"Really?" She turned to look at him with renewed interest. "What's he like?"
Izuku thought about that. How to explain Bakugo Katsuki to someone who'd never met him? The explosive temper that could ignite over nothing. The relentless drive that pushed him to be better than everyone else. The constant, almost desperate need to prove he was the strongest in the room.
"Complicated," he said finally. "Talented. Angry. Probably the strongest person here, and he knows it."
"That sounds..." Uraraka searched for the right word. "Exhausting."
"Yeah. But he's not a bad guy. Just... got a lot to figure out."
She looked at him curiously. "That's a nice way to talk about someone who clearly doesn't like you."
Izuku smiled. "I've had practice."
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, watching the hall fill up. More and more applicants streamed in through the doors—tall ones, short ones, mutants with wings and scales and extra limbs and strange skin textures. A boy with hardening skin—Kirishima—was now flexing for his friends, who were either impressed or pretending to be. The girl with earphone jacks had somehow made herself look even more uninterested in everything. In the back, a massive guy with multiple arms—Shoji—took up nearly two seats by himself, quiet and watchful, his multiple eyes scanning the room with calm awareness.
Near the front, a boy with glasses and impossibly stiff posture sat ramrod straight, not talking to anyone, studying the stage like it might pop a quiz on him at any moment. His hands rested on his knees at perfect right angles. His back didn't touch the seat. His glasses caught the light like he'd polished them specifically for this occasion.
Iida Tenya.
That guy.
Izuku watched him for a moment, noting the tension in his shoulders despite the perfect posture. In another life, that rigid rule-following would've annoyed him. Now it just seemed... sad, almost. Like someone trying so hard to be perfect because he felt he had to be.
Older brother's a pro hero. Ingenium. Probably puts a lot of pressure on him to live up to that name.
"This is wild," Uraraka said softly, pulling him from his thoughts. "Everyone here has quirks I've never even seen before."
"Same. Makes you realize how big the country really is."
"I grew up in a small town. Thought I'd seen a lot. But this?" She gestured vaguely at the crowd, at the hundreds of strangers surrounding them. "This is something else."
"Overwhelming?"
"A little. Exciting too."
Izuku nodded. "That's a good way to put it."
"Think we'll remember any of them after the exam?"
"Probably not. Too much chaos."
Uraraka laughed. "Fair point. I'll probably forget my own name once those robots show up."
"Nah. You'll do fine."
She tilted her head. "You really think so?"
"I really do."
She smiled—warm, genuine, a little pink in the cheeks. "Thanks, Midoriya-san."
More time passed. The hum of conversation grew louder as seats filled and nerves built. Someone a few rows back was muttering combat strategies under their breath, too quiet to make out but intense enough to notice. A group of friends whispered to each other, tense and quiet, occasionally breaking into forced laughter that died almost instantly. A few seats over, a girl with green skin and a frog-like appearance sat silently, observing everything with calm, unblinking eyes. She didn't fidget like everyone else. Didn't seem nervous at all.
Tsuyu. Definitely Tsuyu.
Izuku catalogued her too, filing away the face for later. Her presence here meant the timeline was holding steady, at least for now.
The lights dimmed slightly.
Conversation hushed.
And then—
"HELLOOOOOO, EXAMINEES!"
The voice blasted through the hall without any amplification—just pure, overwhelming vocal power. It hit like a physical force, rattling seats and making more than a few people jump. Spotlights flared to life, converging on the stage where a figure leaped into view with theatrical flair. Leather jacket. Wild blond hair.
"ARE YOU READY TO BECOME HEROES?!"
Silence.
Hundreds of nervous teenagers stared back at him. A few blinked. Someone coughed. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut.
Present Mic's grin didn't waver, but Izuku caught the split-second adjustment—the almost imperceptible shift of a pro reading the room and adapting instantly. His eyes scanned the crowd, took in the frozen faces, the white-knuckled grips on seat arms, the complete lack of response.
"TOUGH CROWD, HUH?"
He laughed, genuinely amused rather than discouraged.
"THAT'S FINE! I'M PRESENT MIC, AND I'LL BE YOUR VOICE OF CHAOS FOR TODAY'S PRACTICAL EXAM!"
He spread his arms wide, owning the stage despite the silence.
"I KNOW YOU'RE ALL NERVOUS—TRUST ME, I GET IT! WHEN I TOOK MY ENTRANCE EXAM, I THREW UP BEFORE THE GATES EVEN OPENED!"
A few people blinked. Someone in the front row actually cracked a smile.
"TRUE STORY! ASK ME AFTER YOU PASS AND I'LL TELL YOU THE WHOLE EMBARRASSING DETAILS!"
A quiet chuckle rippled through the crowd. Not much, but enough. Present Mic grabbed it and ran.
"BUT HERE'S THE THING, LISTENERS: YOU MADE IT THIS FAR! YOU PASSED THE WRITTEN EXAM! YOU GOT INVITED HERE! THAT ALREADY MEANS SOMETHING!"
He pointed at the crowd, sweeping his arm across the room like he was conducting an orchestra.
"SO LET'S NOT WASTE TIME WITH AWKWARD SILENCES, YEAH? LET'S TALK ROBOTS!"
The screens behind him flickered to life, displaying bold graphics—three robot silhouettes with point values floating beside them.
"THE EXAM IS SIMPLE. YOU'LL BE PLACED IN A SIMULATED CITYSCAPE FILLED WITH ROBOT TARGETS. EACH ROBOT IS WORTH POINTS BASED ON SIZE AND DIFFICULTY. YOUR JOB? DESTROY AS MANY AS YOU CAN IN THE TIME LIMIT."
He paused, letting it sink in.
"THERE ARE THREE TYPES. ONE-POINTERS ARE SMALL AND FAST—ANNOYING LITTLE GNATS THAT'LL WASTE YOUR TIME IF YOU LET THEM. TWO-POINTERS ARE MEDIUM, TRICKIER TO TAKE DOWN, BUT WORTH MORE. THREE-POINTERS ARE BIG, TOUGH, AND WORTH THE MOST POINTS. SO PICK YOUR BATTLES WISELY."
Izuku nodded. Same as the anime. Same as he remembered from watching it years ago in another life.
Beside him, Uraraka was scribbling mental notes, lips moving silently as she repeated the information to herself. Her fingers twitched like she was already planning her movements, already visualizing how she'd handle each robot type.
"NOW, HERE'S WHERE IT GETS INTERESTING—"
A hand shot up near the front.
Present Mic blinked. "Uh, we're not at Q&A yet, little listener—"
"I HAVE A QUESTION!"
Every head in the hall turned.
Iida stood, arm chopping the air with mechanical precision. His glasses caught the light dramatically, and his posture was so rigid he looked like he might snap if he bent even slightly.
"The pamphlet mentions FOUR robot types! But you only listed three! This is a massive oversight! If U.A. cannot provide accurate information to applicants, how can we trust the integrity of the entire examination process? A mistake of this magnitude could compromise everything!"
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. A few people nodded uncertainly, glancing at each other. Someone whispered, "He has a point, actually."
Present Mic scratched his head, looking genuinely caught off guard. "Well, actually—"
"It's a distraction."
The room went quiet.
Iida's head whipped toward him, eyes wide behind those glasses. "I—excuse me? A distraction? This is a serious inquiry! If U.A. has made an error in their materials, applicants deserve to know! We have prepared our entire academic careers for this moment, and a mistake like this—"
"If you let him finish," Izuku interrupted smoothly, still not raising his voice, still not looking at him, "he would've told you the fourth robot doesn't count. It's a zero-pointer. No points. Just there to make things interesting and test how people react under pressure."
Iida sputtered. "That's—you don't know that! You couldn't possibly know that without insider information! Unless—are you suggesting U.A. would deliberately mislead us with unannounced zero-point robots? That would be—that would be—"
"HE'S RIGHT!"
Present Mic grinned, recovering beautifully. "THE GREEN-HAIRED KID NAILED IT. FOURTH ROBOT IS A ZERO-POINTER. NO POINTS, JUST THERE TO ADD CHAOS AND SEE WHO FREEZES UNDER PRESSURE. NOW, AS I WAS SAYING BEFORE OUR ENERGETIC FRIEND HERE INTERRUPTED—"
Someone in the back muttered loudly enough to be heard, "Sit down, glasses."
Another voice added, "Dude really interrupted for nothing."
Iida stood frozen for one long, excruciating second. His arm was still half-raised, chopping at nothing. His face had gone through several shades of red and was currently settling on something resembling a ripe tomato. His mouth opened, closed, opened again—
Then he sat.
Very stiffly.
Very quietly.
His back didn't touch the seat.
Uraraka leaned close to Izuku, her lips brushing his ear to be heard over the returning murmur of the crowd. "How did you know that?"
"Lucky guess."
She didn't look convinced—those brown eyes studied him with something between curiosity and suspicion—but she let it go. Her gaze lingered on him for a moment longer than necessary before she turned back to the stage.
Present Mic continued, completely unfazed by the interruption. "NOW, HERE'S THE IMPORTANT PART, LISTENERS. THE EXAM ISN'T JUST ABOUT POINTS. WE'RE LOOKING FOR SOMETHING MORE. SOMETHING YOU CAN'T MEASURE WITH A SCOREBOARD."
He paused, letting the words sink in. The room was fully silent now, hanging on every syllable. Even Iida had stopped radiating embarrassment long enough to listen.
"BEING A HERO MEANS MORE THAN JUST BEATING UP ROBOTS. IT MEANS TAKING INITIATIVE. PROTECTING OTHERS. MAKING SPLIT-SECOND DECISIONS WHEN THINGS GO SIDEWAYS. SO WHILE YOU'RE OUT THERE CHASING POINTS, DON'T FORGET WHAT ACTUALLY MATTERS."
He pointed at the crowd, serious for once.
"WE'RE WATCHING. ALL OF IT. NOT JUST YOUR SCORE. SO GIVE IT YOUR ALL. SHOW US WHAT YOU'VE GOT. AND MAYBE—JUST MAYBE—WE'LL SEE YOU IN CLASS 1-A."
The screens behind him flashed. Battle center assignments appeared in bold letters, each applicant's destination listed clearly with maps and entry points.
"BATTLE CENTERS ARE ON THE SCREEN. FIND YOURS AND HEAD OUT. THE EXAM STARTS IN TWENTY MINUTES. DON'T BE LATE. AND SERIOUSLY—" He grinned again. "DON'T THROW UP. IT'S NOT A GOOD LOOK."
The lights came up.
Conversation erupted—nervous, excited, terrified. The room became a sea of motion as students stood, checked their cards, compared assignments, pointed at screens, and headed for the exits in a massive wave.
Uraraka stood, stretching her arms above her head. "Battle Center B. You?"
Izuku checked his card, even though he already knew. "Same."
She beamed, the nervousness from earlier momentarily forgotten. "Yes! Okay, good, now I at least know one person going in!" She paused, then looked at him curiously. "You ready for this?"
Izuku stood, rolling his shoulders. Ten months of training with All Might. One week with One For All actually in his body. No broken bones—he'd been careful, starting with tiny percentages and working up slowly, using his meta-knowledge to avoid the mistakes canon Izuku made. He could handle five percent now. Maybe a little more in bursts.
"Ready as I'll ever be."
They joined the flow of students heading for the exits.
The walk to the testing grounds was a blur of bodies and nervous energy.
They followed the crowd through winding pathways, past buildings that gleamed in the morning light, toward a massive set of gates that loomed in the distance. The architecture here was different—more utilitarian, more industrial. This part of U.A. was built for action, not appearances.
The air grew thicker with tension the closer they got. Conversations became shorter. Laughter died out entirely. Even the birds seemed quieter here, like they knew better than to distract from what was coming.
Uraraka walked beside him, her earlier brightness dimmed by the weight of what was ahead. She kept glancing ahead at the gates, then down at her hands, then back at the gates. Her fingers flexed open and closed, open and closed.
"You nervous?" Izuku asked quietly.
"A little," she admitted. "You?"
"A little."
She laughed, but it was shaky. "I keep thinking about all those robots. All those other applicants. What if I freeze? What if I mess up and someone gets hurt because I wasn't fast enough?"
"Then you mess up." Izuku shrugged. "Happens."
She blinked at him. "That's... relaxed."
"I've learned that stressing about things beforehand doesn't usually help. You prepare. You show up. You do your best. Whatever happens after that..." He trailed off. "You deal with it."
Uraraka was quiet for a moment, processing that.
"That's really mature," she said finally. "Most people our age would be panicking right now."
Izuku almost laughed out loud at that. You have no idea how old I actually am.
Instead, he just smiled. "Maybe I'm an old soul."
She snorted. "Maybe."
They reached the gates.
Beyond them stretched the testing grounds—a fake cityscape of concrete and steel, building facades and alleyways designed for maximum chaos. Izuku could see the mock-ups in the distance, towering structures that looked almost real. Some were damaged already, probably from previous exams. Others stood pristine, waiting to be destroyed.
The scale of it was impressive. Multiple city blocks worth of training ground, all for one exam.
Other applicants were already gathering at their designated entry points, forming clusters based on battle center assignments. Groups formed and dissolved as people found their spots. People stretched. People stared. Someone was doing deep breathing exercises with their eyes closed. Another person shadowboxed against the air, throwing punches at invisible opponents.
Izuku spotted Bakugo near the front of one cluster, arms crossed, radiating impatience so strongly it was almost visible. A few people gave him space without even realizing they were doing it—just an unconscious survival instinct kicking in.
He spotted Iida too, standing stiff and alone near a different entry point, probably still replaying the briefing in his head. His arms weren't chopping for once. That felt almost wrong.
And then—
"EXAMINEES, PLEASE PREPARE TO ENTER YOUR DESIGNATED BATTLE CENTERS."
The voice echoed across the grounds, calm and professional this time. No Present Mic theatrics. Just instructions.
Uraraka turned to him. Her smile was back—smaller than before, but real. Warm.
"Good luck, Midoriya-san."
"Good luck, Uraraka."
They separated, moving toward different entry points. Izuku watched her go for a second, noting the way she rolled her shoulders like she was psyching herself up, then turned and headed for his own destiny.
Izuku found his spot among the crowd of Battle Center B applicants. Strangers surrounded him on all sides, a sea of nervous faces and fidgeting hands. Some looked scared. Some looked determined. A few looked like they were trying very hard to look like neither.
One guy nearby was literally crying, tears streaming down his face while his friend patted his shoulder awkwardly and whispered reassurances that clearly weren't working.
The gates loomed ahead, still closed.
Izuku rolled his shoulders. Flexed his fingers. Felt One For All humming quietly beneath his skin, waiting to be used. Ten months of preparation. One week of actually having the power. No broken bones yet, and he intended to keep it that way.
Five percent. Nothing more. Pick your battles, watch your positioning, and don't do anything stupid.
A few people near him were bouncing on their heels. Someone was taking deep breaths. The guy kept crying.
Then—
The gates swung open with a mechanical groan.
No countdown. No warning. Just the sound of metal grinding against metal and a voice blaring through the speakers with maximum energy:
"THERE'S NO COUNTDOWNS IN REAL DISASTERS, LISTENERS! GO GO GO!"
Izuku moved.
His body reacted before his brain caught up—ten months of training wired into muscle memory. His feet pounded against the pavement as he shot forward, passing slower applicants before they'd even processed that the gates were open.
Behind him, someone yelled. Someone else screamed. The sound of dozens of feet followed, but they were already falling behind.
Ahead, the cityscape loomed, streets and buildings and alleyways waiting to be explored.
And somewhere in that maze of concrete and steel, robots were waiting.
Izuku grinned despite himself.
Let's go
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Author's Notes:
https://www.patreon.com/cw/RagingBladeSeer
If you're enjoying the series and want to read ahead (or just help keep it going), consider checking it out — every bit of support means a lot. Thanks for sticking around and being part of the journey!
15 CHAPTERS ADVANCE OF STARTING WITH BLACK CLOVER
5 CHAPTERS ADVANCE OF MHA: LIMITED CHAOS GACHA
NOTE: What did you think of this chapter? Your feedbacks would be really appreciated and help me out a lot, I hope his personality isn't too cringe or anything. He is a bit more uhh less open as a person compared to Canon Deku who seemed high energy in comparison. He has somewhat of a weary vibes to him yeah. Also how was his interactions with a canon character? Hope you had a good read fr. THERE IS A REASON WHY OCHACHO MIGHT BE A BIT OOC it's because of a trait fr.