The walk to the dormitories was quiet.
The news had spread through the school like wildfire, and the halls were emptier than usual. Students clustered in doorways, phones out, voices low. Some were crying. Some were shouting. Most just looked lost.
Kobe walked through them without stopping.
The class had been weird about it. Angry, yes. But to him, some of it seemed performative. Angry because they expected heroes and every other "good" person to be angry. Angry because it was the correct response. The expected response.
Maybe it was because he was a victim of it. Maybe that was why he could not summon the same outrage. He did not feel shocked. He did not feel betrayed. He had known, for years, that the world was rotten. This was just another layer of rot, exposed to the light.
There had always been rumours. About the Commission. About other governments. About the things people did when they had power and no one watching. When one class held substantial power over another, corruption was not a possibility. It was an inevitability.
So to him, something like this coming out was almost expected. Unpleasant, yes. Infuriating, in a distant, hollow way. But not surprising.
If you were in a hero school like UA, you had most likely been obsessing over heroism for so long that you had read every thread, every forum, every piece of online discourse about the dark underbelly of the hero world. You knew the rumours. You knew the allegations. You just chose not to believe them.
Until you could not anymore.
Kobe stopped thinking.
A voice. Small. High. Familiar.
"Soryu?"
He turned.
Eri stood at the end of the hallway, her white hair bright against the grey walls, her red eyes wide. She was wearing a yellow dress, too big for her, the sleeves rolled up at the cuffs. A UA staff member lingered behind her, a woman Kobe did not recognise, but Eri was already running.
She ran straight into his arms.
He caught her. She was lighter than he remembered. Or maybe he was just stronger. She buried her face in his chest, her small hands clutching his uniform, and he felt her shake. Holding back tears.
He did not know what to say. So he just stood there. Let her hold on.
After a moment, she backed away. Her eyes were wet, but she was smiling.
"It has been so long," she said. "I did not think I would ever see you again."
Kobe crouched down to her level.
"I am sorry for not visiting sooner."
She shook her head quickly. "It is okay. I know you were busy." She paused. "I heard you are going to be a hero now. Like the others."
"Something like that."
She beamed.
He asked her if she had been finding it good here, at UA. She nodded enthusiastically and began to speak. The words spilled out of her, fast and bright. The students who played with her. The teachers who read her stories. The treats she got to eat, sweet things, things she had never tried before. The things she got to do, drawing, colouring, walking outside without fear.
She even mentioned her quirk. She was learning how to use it. It was still hard, she said, and she had to be careful, but she was making progress. She might even start school later in the year. Real school. With other children.
Kobe listened. He did not interrupt.
When she finished, he said, "You have made it really far. Compared to last time."
Her smile flickered. Her eyes grew bright again. But she did not cry. She just looked at him, and nodded, and said, "Thank you."
She did not specify what for. She did not need to.
"For saving me," she added. Just to be clear.
Kobe did not know what to say to that. So he just nodded.
The staff member stepped forward. "Eri, we should go. Your appointment is soon."
Eri looked at Kobe. Then at the woman. Then back at Kobe.
"Will you visit again?"
He thought about it. About the months ahead. About the classes and the training and the traitor he was supposed to find.
"Yeah," he said. "I will visit again."
She smiled. Then she turned and walked away, her too-big dress swishing around her ankles.
Kobe watched her go.
___
The gym was mostly empty.
A few students lingered on the mats, stretching or talking in low voices, but the main floor was clear. Kobe sat against the wall, his legs stretched out in front of him, watching Kaminari pace back and forth like a caged animal.
"I hate my quirk," Kaminari said.
Kobe raised an eyebrow. "That seems extreme."
"You have not seen me after a big discharge. I get dumb. Like, really dumb. Can barely remember my own name dumb."
"I have seen."
Kaminari stopped pacing. "Then you know."
Kobe nodded. "It is unfortunate. Especially for such a high-demand power."
Kaminari kicked at the mat. "I wish it was more like yours."
"In what way?"
"I do not know." Kaminari shrugged. "Just... the way you use it. How it works for you. Everything."
Kobe was quiet for a moment. "It took a lot of training. And other things."
Kaminari sighed. "It is not fair."
He sat down across from Kobe, cross-legged, his elbows on his knees.
"How does your quirk even work? Like, if you were to fight someone like Todoroki, you would still probably struggle because of his ice."
Kobe nodded. "I would. But my paper is strong enough. Maybe because of visualisation."
Kaminari frowned. "How does that make sense?"
Kobe shrugged. "I assume the stronger the sense of what I am creating, the stronger it is."
Kaminari repeated it back, slower. "The stronger the sense... the stronger and more realistic it is."
"Not the more realistic. The stronger. I could form a feather that is heavier and sharper than a normal one because I envision it that way. There are still natural limits, even on imagination. But I can get past most things."
Kaminari stared at him. "Your quirk is still so cool."
He tilted his head.
"It is actually a lot like Yaoyorozu's."
Kobe nodded.
"But her stuff is actually real," Kaminari added.
"There are stricter conditions. It looks like she follows them too."
Kaminari leaned forward. "What do you mean?"
Kobe thought for a moment. "She seems to only be able to form things from bare skin. She does not do so unless it is exposed, from what I have seen. And it most likely takes some kind of internal energy from her. She would probably tire out quickly."
Kaminari's eyes widened. "Your brain is amazing. Probably up there with Midoriya."
Kobe nodded. He did not know how to respond to that.
A voice came from behind them.
"Is my quirk anything like Tokoyami Fumikage? Or Shihai Kuroiro?"
They turned.
Kobe recognised the kid immediately. First year. Curly black hair. Pale skin. That smile.
Shun.
Kaminari clutched his chest. "Woah. Do not sneak up on us like that."
Shun giggled. "Sorry."
Kobe kept his voice flat. "I thought you were not going to tell me your quirk."
Shun tilted his head. "I forgot."
He stepped closer, his eyes drifting to Kaminari.
"I was just fascinated by your conversation. About your quirks." He paused. "Electricity quirks, even though they are in high demand, always gain users who struggle with using them. It is only normal nowadays. Most users have a very high voltage limit."
He smiled. It did not reach his eyes.
"I had an older friend who started small. She learned to fire from one finger. Then two. Then three. It would go up and up and up before she reached her limit."
Kaminari blinked. "That is... actually helpful. Thanks."
Shun nodded. He looked at Kobe. Held his gaze for a moment longer than was comfortable. Then he turned and walked away.
Kaminari watched him go.
"The first years seem a lot gentler than when we were in first year."
Kobe did not look away from the door.
"That kid is a freak."
Kaminari elbowed him. "Do not be so harsh to our junior."
___
The hallway was empty.
Kobe had been walking for maybe five minutes, aimlessly, his mind still half on the conversation with Kaminari, half on the first year with the unsettling smile. He turned a corner and stopped.
Bakugou stood at the other end of the corridor, his back against the wall, his arms crossed. He was alone. His red eyes fixed on Kobe with an intensity that made the air feel heavier.
They stared at each other.
Kobe had already run into Midoriya. That had been awkward, strange, full of words that felt like they were trying to reach something neither of them knew how to name. Running into Bakugou was inevitable. They had history. Old history. The kind that did not wash away just because years had passed.
Neither of them spoke.
Then Bakugou pushed off the wall.
"It is strange," he said, "that the school just let you in like that."
Kobe did not respond.
"They surely know what you were like. In elementary school. What you did to me."
Kobe tilted his head. "Elementary school?"
He let the words hang.
"That was such a long time ago. Nothing mattered then. I was already sent away to get better."
Bakugou's lip curled. A smirk. Not friendly.
Kobe watched him. "Do you want an apology or something?"
"Shut up."
The smirk faded. Bakugou stepped closer.
"I noticed you got all weird when the news came out. About what the Commission was hiding. And now you are here. Right when all those people are about to be sentenced for their crimes."
He was close now. Close enough that Kobe could see the faint scars on his neck. He assumes it came from the league... during that time.
"Did you really get better?" Bakugou asked. "Or were you just mixed in with those damn test-tube babies?"
Kobe went very still.
Test-tube babies. What a term. Crude. Dismissive. The kind of phrase someone used when they wanted to hurt without understanding what they were hurting.
He had not expected this. Not from Bakugou. The stereotypical bully, the one who screamed first and thought never, putting together a memory of him leaving school young with a reaction to daily news. It was almost impressive.
It annoyed him.
"Speak on what you know," Kobe said. His voice was flat. "Not assumptions. That is how stupid people continue to hurt themselves. Their hubris."
Bakugou laughed. A sharp, barking sound.
"I bet."
He tilted his head.
"Like the rest of them, you are probably just waiting for the chance to blow up. Like a villain. Kill. Steal. Eventually die like a villain."
Kobe's hand moved before he realised it.
His fingers closed around Bakugou's throat. He pushed him back against the wall. The impact was dull, muffled, but Bakugou's eyes widened just enough to show he had felt it.
Maybe I just do not like him.
The thought came clearly. Calmly. As if it had always been there, waiting to be acknowledged.
Bakugou squirmed. His hands came up, but he did not fight. He just watched. His eyes narrowed.
"I knew it," he said. His voice was strained, but the smirk was back. "You have not changed at all. You are just like you were back then. A soon-to-be villain."
Kobe's grip tightened.
He watched Bakugou's face change. The smirk faltered. The confidence wavered. His breath came shorter.
"You remember why I attacked you," Kobe said. His voice was quiet. "Do not you?"
Bakugou did not answer.
"You spoke about my father. The one who had just died. You said something. I do not even remember what. But I remember the way you said it. Like it was nothing. Like he was nothing."
He stopped.
He let Bakugou go.
Bakugou slumped against the wall, one hand rising to his throat, his breathing ragged.
Kobe stepped back.
"I am lying," he said.
Bakugou's eyes snapped to him.
"As soon as his funeral was over, I almost forgot about him completely." Kobe's voice was distant. Flat. "I think I was more annoyed that my surroundings were changing so violently. So fast. And I could not stop it."
His fist connected with Bakugou's face.
Bakugou's head snapped back. Blood welled from his split lip.
"I was just in the mood for violence."
Another punch. Bakugou staggered, but did not fall.
"That mood creeps back up every now and then."
Another. Bakugou's knee buckled.
"It does not matter what you know. Or what you think you know. It all amounts to nothing if you cannot apply it in the right way."
His fist connected with Bakugou's face. Square. Hard.
Bakugou hit the ground. His hands came up to protect his head, but the snarl that curled his lips was pure, unfiltered fury.
Kobe looked down at him.
"If you do not want to suffer the same way you did last time," he said, "stay out of my way."