Aizawa let the silence stretch before he spoke again.
"A first-year attacked her."
Tsuyu's voice was soft. "Why would a first-year do that?"
Aizawa sighed. The sound was heavy. Tired. "According to Kendo, he had been bothering her for some time. She did not think much of it. He was a year below. She assumed he was just... awkward."
Uraraka's hands clenched at her sides. "Will he be expelled?"
Aizawa shook his head slowly. "Given the current situation, the dangers posed to UA students, and the political climate surrounding the school's reopening... most likely not."
Jirou's voice cut through the murmurs. "So we just have to stick around with violent little boys that cannot handle rejection?"
Aizawa's gaze flicked to her. "He will be punished. For now, he is denying everything. Claiming he does not know what happened."
"Bullshit," Sero muttered.
Others echoed the sentiment. Low voices. Angry murmurs.
Tokoyami spoke. "What is his quirk?"
Jirou turned to him. "Why does that matter?"
Tokoyami's dark eyes were unreadable. "Some quirks can influence behaviour. Manipulate emotions. If his quirk is something like that, it could explain..."
Momo interrupted. "That theory is not really proven. The idea that quirks can cause violent tendencies is largely discredited in modern research."
Tokoyami's voice was quieter. "It is accepted for mutants."
The room went still.
Jirou stared at him. "So what? We should just let him go? Say it was not his fault because his quirk made him do it?"
Tokoyami faltered. "No. I did not say that. I only meant..."
Jirou cut him off. "If he was influenced, he still had the urge to attack. He still did not get what he wanted. He still chose to hurt her."
Midoriya stepped forward. "I am sure Tokoyami did not mean anything wrong by it."
Jirou's voice was sharp. "It does not matter what he meant by it."
The words hung in the air.
Midoriya turned to Aizawa. "What was his quirk?"
Aizawa looked at him strangely. His gaze shifted to Jirou, who seemed almost offended, like the question itself was a dismissal.
"I just want to know," Midoriya said quietly. "What it is."
Aizawa's answer was measured. "It is not at my discretion to divulge that. The student's status is still unknown. His case is ongoing."
Midoriya nodded. "Thank you."
Jirou exhaled. "Can we see Kendo?"
Aizawa nodded. "She is awake. But keep it down. She needs rest."
The class moved. A flurry of bodies, low voices, the shuffle of feet toward the door. Kobe hung back, watching them go.
He thought about the first-years. About Yoshida Shun, with his unsettling smile and his careful words. About the girl in the storage room, dazed and feverish. And now about the boy who had attacked Kendo, who had bothered her for weeks, who was now denying everything.
First-years seem to be really troublesome.
___
The paper was thin. Almost invisible. I had pressed it onto Uraraka's sleeve as she passed me in the corridor, a light touch, nothing she would have noticed. The fibres were woven tight, sensitive to sound, and they carried the conversation back to me in fragments.
I lay on my bed, eyes closed, listening.
The voices were muffled at first, then clearer. The infirmary. Soft lighting, probably. The rustle of sheets. Kendo's voice, tired but steady.
"I want to get out already."
A class B girl laughed. Pony, I thought. Or maybe Tokage. The voices blurred together.
Another girl spoke. "What about the boy who did it? What is his name?"
Jirou's voice cut in. "Yeah. We should know who to avoid."
Kendo sighed. "His name is Kenji. Kenji Inuzuka."
The name landed. Inuzuka. Dog field. A name that suggested loyalty, obedience. The kind of name parents gave hoping their child would grow up steady and true.
"I know him," Kendo continued. "We live in the same neighbourhood. He was a nice kid. Quiet. Kept to himself." A pause. "The only problems I can remember was him biting another kid. Years ago. In primary school."
Someone asked if he had always been violent.
"No," Kendo said. "That incident back then only happened because his emotions were heightened. It was to do with his quirk."
She explained it. His quirk was wolf-related. Enhanced senses. Sharp teeth. The attributes of a predator, lying dormant under a quiet exterior. When his emotions spiked, the wolf came out.
A sigh. Disappointment. One of them asked if she wanted a drink from the vending machine.
Kendo nodded. "And a nurse. I want to be let go."
The others looked at her arm. A cast. Her leg, too. Another cast. One of them said he should have been expelled for this.
Kendo shook her head. "We are heroes. If we cannot handle this, we should not even be here."
Reiko Yanagi's voice was quiet. Firm.
"That is wrong."
The room went still.
"Within our first year, we faced so much from outside. The school failed to fight against that. Other factors were in the way too. That led to the death of one of our classmates."
She paused.
"What happened to you is on school grounds. It may be seen as a more natural thing for high schoolers to go through. But with everything we have been through, I just want the standards to be higher. I want us to live a more comfortable school life from now on."
Silence.
Then Kendo's voice, softer now. "I know. I do too."
The conversation shifted. Lighter topics. Someone mentioned a movie. Someone else complained about homework. The paper fibres picked up the sounds of movement, the clink of a cup, the distant hum of the vending machine.
I opened my eyes.
The ceiling was white. Boring. I stared at it and thought about what I had heard.
I had never expected to have a school life. When I was younger, before Eden, I did not think about it much. After Eden, I did not think about it at all. It was not something for people like me. It was a luxury, a normalcy that existed in a world I no longer belonged to.
But now I was here. And I did feel for them. A little. In a distant way.
The truth was, though, that a normal hero school life would not exist for UA. Not for any hero school. Not for a long time. The League was still out there. The Meta Liberation Army was still regrouping. All For One was still pulling strings. And every negative force that had made its way into our teenage lives was only going to grow stronger.
If I were more like them, I thought, the best way to move forward would be to accept that. There would only be more suffering within these school walls. More attacks. More losses. More moments like this, where the fragile illusion of safety would crack and reveal the darkness underneath.
I pulled out my phone.
The screen glowed. I scrolled through my contacts. Found the name I was looking for.
I typed a message. Short. Direct.
Can we talk?
I sent it.
___
Kendo was already sitting when I arrived.
The courtyard was quiet. Early morning, the sun still low, the grass wet with dew. She had chosen a bench near the garden, away from the main paths, where the cherry blossoms hung heavy and pink above us.
She looked up as I approached. Her arm was in a cast. Her leg was propped up on the bench beside her, also in a cast. Her eyes were tired, but sharp.
"You wanted to talk," she said.
I sat down on the opposite end of the bench. Not too close. Not too far.
"I just wanted to know if you were alright."
She stared at me.
"I do not believe you."
I shrugged. "That is fine."
She was quiet for a moment. Then she said, "I am fine, by the way."
I nodded.
"Can I ask about the attack?"
"No."
I shrugged again.
She tilted her head. "Why do you want to know?"
I thought about it. The question was simple. The answer was not. I did not have a neat reason. I was not investigating. I was not planning to intervene. I just... wanted to know.
"It doesn't matter," I said.
She stared at me for a long moment. Then she shifted, wincing slightly as she adjusted her leg.
"Why do you never seem bothered?" she asked. "By anything. When I first thought Kodai's death was on your hands, you did not defend yourself. You just... let me think what I wanted."
I looked at her.
I did not have an answer.
She watched me. Her gaze was steady. Unflinching.
"You know what is weird?" she said. "Your eyes. They are so empty. The longer you stare into them, the more it seems like you are looking at something so far away. Something no one else can see."
She paused.
"It is weird. You freak me out."
I opened my mouth. Closed it.
"Sorry," I said.
She sighed. "You should not apologise for that. You should be more present. Speak up more. Stop being the freak in the corner."
I did not know how to do that. I did not even understand what she was talking about. The words made sense, but they did not land. They floated somewhere above me, out of reach.
She saw that. I could tell by the way her expression softened, just slightly.
"I am going to be a hero," she said. "The best hero I can be. In this increasingly darkening world." She looked down at her cast. "A little mishap like this cannot slow me down. I can only hope I have the persistence to keep going."
She looked back at me.
"Why do you want to be a hero?"
The question landed differently than the others. Heavier.
I thought about lying. About picking an answer that everyone else gave. Justice. Protection. The desire to save people. I thought about being vulgar, saying it was to feed my desires, to satisfy something dark and hungry inside me. I thought about deflecting, changing the subject, walking away.
Instead, I sighed.
"I do not know."
She stared at me.
"Really?"
"Really."
She was quiet for a long moment. Then she nodded slowly.
"That, really isn't so surprising."
Yeah, I bet. I really am just a whole lot of nothing.