MHA

The forest seemed to stretch forever. Trees crowded together on either side of the narrow path, their branches twisting overhead and turning the afternoon sunlight into scattered patches of gold across the ground. Somewhere deeper in the woods, birds called to one another, their voices occasionally drowned out by the distant crash of something heavy hitting the earth.

It had been hours since Class 1-A and Class 1-B arrived at the training camp. The trip had been presented as preparation for the provisional hero license exam, and the teachers had planned a demanding schedule to help everyone prepare. The students had already been pushed through running, combat drills, Quirk control, rescue simulations, and endurance training. By the time the sun had begun sinking lower through the trees, everyone was exhausted.

Everyone except, apparently, the teachers.

Aizawa stood at the front of the group with his usual exhausted expression, his capture weapon hanging loosely around his shoulders. Beside him, Vlad King watched the combined classes with his arms folded. The students were scattered across the clearing. Kirishima sat on a fallen log, drinking from his water bottle while Kaminari lay flat on the grass nearby.

Kaminari: “I can't feel my legs.”

Kirishima: “That's probably because you've been sitting down for the last twenty minutes.”

Kaminari: “Exactly. They're too tired to move.”

Nearby, Mina had collapsed dramatically against Tsuyu's shoulder.

Mina: “Tsuyu, if I don't survive this camp, tell everyone I died doing something cool.”

Tsuyu: “You tripped over a tree root earlier, ribbit.”

Mina lifted her head.

Mina: “That information doesn't need to become public.”

A few students laughed, and even some of Class 1-B looked amused. Monoma, naturally, looked less than impressed. He stood with his arms crossed, glancing between the two classes as though searching for another opportunity to remind everyone that Class 1-B existed.

Monoma: “Honestly, I expected more from the supposedly elite Class 1-A.”

Bakugo's head turned immediately.

Bakugo: “You wanna repeat that, extra?”

Monoma: “I said—”

Kendo: “Don't.”

Kendo grabbed Monoma by the back of his uniform before the argument could escalate.

Kendo: “We've been here all day. Please don't start something.”

Monoma: “But Kendo—”

Kendo: “No.”

Aizawa sighed. He looked as though he regretted ever becoming a teacher.

Aizawa: “If any of you still have enough energy to argue, you clearly aren't tired enough.”

The entire clearing became noticeably quieter. Kaminari slowly sat upright.

Kaminari: “That's terrifying.”

Aizawa's eyes narrowed.

Aizawa: “Good.”

The students collectively groaned.

The training camp continued. The next exercise involved navigating a section of forest while responding to simulated emergencies. Each student was given a different scenario, forcing them to think beyond simply overpowering an opponent. That was the point of the provisional license. Being a hero wasn't only about winning fights. A professional had to rescue civilians, assess danger, cooperate with others, and make decisions under pressure. The instructors wanted them to understand that before they ever stepped into the exam.

You moved through the forest alongside several classmates, following the marked route between the trees. Branches scraped against your uniform, leaves shifted beneath your boots, and the air smelled of damp soil and pine. Every so often, one of the training devices hidden throughout the forest activated, forcing the group to react: a simulated injured civilian, a collapsed structure, a blocked path, or a sudden "villain" attack. Each scenario demanded something different, and the deeper you went into the forest, the more difficult the exercises became.

Then a loud explosion echoed from somewhere ahead.

Everyone stopped.

A second blast followed.

Kirishima looked toward the sound.

Kirishima: “That was one of the training machines.”

Bakugo's hands sparked.

Bakugo: “Finally.”

Iida immediately raised one hand.

Iida: “Wait! We don't know what that was!”

Another explosion shook the trees. This time, birds erupted from the branches overhead. Aizawa's voice came through the communication system.

Aizawa: “Everyone stay where you are.”

The students froze. His tone was different. Not annoyed. Not tired. Serious.

Aizawa: “Teachers are monitoring the exercise.”

For once, nobody argued.

The forest suddenly felt much larger and much quieter. The exercises had been controlled and predictable, but the instructors had designed them to keep the students alert. Distant branches shifted. Footsteps moved somewhere beyond the trees. Then another explosion sounded, and the students exchanged uneasy glances.

Todoroki's gaze sharpened.

Todoroki: “That was probably another group reaching their scenario.”

Izuku was already reaching for his notebook before remembering that this wasn't the time.

Izuku: “The timing makes sense. The exercises are getting more difficult as we progress.”

Momo nodded.

Momo: “Agreed. We should stay focused and continue following the route.”

A faint crackle came through the communication system.

Then Aizawa's voice returned.

Aizawa: “Proceed to the next checkpoint.”

The students began moving again, more cautiously than before.

For several seconds, nobody spoke.

Then a recorded scream echoed through the forest.

It was clearly part of the exercise, but everyone knew that immediately. The sound was followed by a burst of artificial smoke rising between the trees.

Kirishima clenched his fists.

Kirishima: “We have to help.”

Iida: “We were instructed to follow the marked route!”

Kirishima: “And someone just screamed!”

The conflict lasted only seconds. Then a training beacon flashed ahead, revealing the correct path. The two classes moved together, shoulder to shoulder, toward the next scenario. Whatever challenge waited for them, they would face it as students training to become heroes.

For once, they weren't competing. They were learning how to rescue civilians, support one another, and make the right decisions under pressure.

The provisional license exam had not even begun, but the training camp was giving them exactly the preparation they had come for.

The following morning, the teachers gathered both classes in a wide clearing. The students stood in uneven rows, still sore from the previous day's training but alert enough to notice the equipment arranged across the field.

Three light-up targets rested on a table beside several containers filled with balls.

Aizawa stepped forward.

Aizawa: “Your first exam will be divided into multiple phases. The first is called the Target Game.”

The students exchanged curious looks.

Aizawa: “Each participant will have three light-up targets placed on their body. You will also be given six balls. If you hit an opponent's targets, all three will turn on, and that student will be disqualified.”

Kaminari blinked.

Kaminari: “So we just have to hit three targets?”

Aizawa: “No. You have to eliminate two other participants.”

The clearing erupted into startled murmurs.

Aizawa: “The first one hundred participants to eliminate two opponents will pass this phase. Once your targets are activated, you're out. There will be no second chances.”

Bakugo grinned, sparks snapping from his palms.

Bakugo: “Finally, something worth doing.”

Kendo glanced toward Monoma.

Kendo: “Stay focused. Don't waste your balls trying to show off.”

Monoma: “I would never waste an opportunity to demonstrate Class 1-B's superiority.”

Kendo: “That is exactly what I mean.”

Izuku studied the targets and balls carefully, already analyzing possible strategies.

Izuku: “We need to protect our own targets while finding openings in everyone else's defenses. Positioning and teamwork will be just as important as accuracy.”

Todoroki looked across the field.

Todoroki: “Then the strongest approach may be to form temporary groups.”

Aizawa: “You may cooperate if you choose. But remember, only the first one hundred people to eliminate two others pass.”

The teachers began attaching the targets to the students' bodies. Each target glowed faintly, waiting to be activated. Six balls were placed into every participant's hands.

The atmosphere changed immediately. The exhaustion from training was replaced by tension and anticipation. Classmates who had spent the previous day helping one another now watched each other carefully, calculating distance, cover, and escape routes.

Aizawa raised one hand.

Aizawa: “When the signal sounds, the game begins.”

The students spread out across the field.

Kirishima rolled his shoulders.

Kirishima: “Let's make this manly!”

Mina bounced on her toes.

Mina: “Just don't hit me in the face!”

Bakugo crouched low, eyes fixed on the nearest opponents.

Bakugo: “Try not to get in my way.”

Aizawa lowered his hand.

A sharp signal rang across the clearing.

The Target Game began.

It had been hours since Class 1-A and Class 1-B arrived at the training camp. The trip had been presented as preparation for the provisional hero license exam, and the teachers had planned a demanding schedule to help everyone prepare. The students had already been pushed through running, combat drills, Quirk control, rescue simulations, and endurance training. By the time the sun had begun sinking lower through the trees, everyone was exhausted.

Everyone except, apparently, the teachers.

Aizawa stood at the front of the group with his usual exhausted expression, his capture weapon hanging loosely around his shoulders. Beside him, Vlad King watched the combined classes with his arms folded. The students were scattered across the clearing. Kirishima sat on a fallen log, drinking from his water bottle while Kaminari lay flat on the grass nearby.

Kaminari: “I can't feel my legs.”

Kirishima: “That's probably because you've been sitting down for the last twenty minutes.”

Kaminari: “Exactly. They're too tired to move.”

Nearby, Mina had collapsed dramatically against Tsuyu's shoulder.

Mina: “Tsuyu, if I don't survive this camp, tell everyone I died doing something cool.”

Tsuyu: “You tripped over a tree root earlier, ribbit.”

Mina lifted her head.

Mina: “That information doesn't need to become public.”

A few students laughed, and even some of Class 1-B looked amused. Monoma, naturally, looked less than impressed. He stood with his arms crossed, glancing between the two classes as though searching for another opportunity to remind everyone that Class 1-B existed.

Monoma: “Honestly, I expected more from the supposedly elite Class 1-A.”

Bakugo's head turned immediately.

Bakugo: “You wanna repeat that, extra?”

Monoma: “I said—”

Kendo: “Don't.”

Kendo grabbed Monoma by the back of his uniform before the argument could escalate.

Kendo: “We've been here all day. Please don't start something.”

Monoma: “But Kendo—”

Kendo: “No.”

Aizawa sighed. He looked as though he regretted ever becoming a teacher. His eyes briefly shifted toward you, You knew that look well. It was the same one he used at home whenever he thought you were hiding an injury.

Aizawa: “If any of you still have enough energy to argue, you clearly aren't tired enough.”

The entire clearing became noticeably quieter. Kaminari slowly sat upright.

Kaminari: “That's terrifying.”

Aizawa's eyes narrowed.

Aizawa: “Good.”

The students collectively groaned.

The training camp continued. The next exercise involved navigating a section of forest while responding to simulated emergencies. Each student was given a different scenario, forcing them to think beyond simply overpowering an opponent. That was the point of the provisional license. Being a hero wasn't only about winning fights. A professional had to rescue civilians, assess danger, cooperate with others, and make decisions under pressure. The instructors wanted them to understand that before they ever stepped into the exam.

You moved through the forest alongside several classmates, following the marked route between the trees. Branches scraped against your uniform, leaves shifted beneath your boots, and the air smelled of damp soil and pine. Every so often, one of the training devices hidden throughout the forest activated, forcing the group to react: a simulated injured civilian, a collapsed structure, a blocked path, or a sudden "villain" attack. Each scenario demanded something different, and the deeper you went into the forest, the more difficult the exercises became.

You had grown up around hero work. Your father had taught you how to observe before acting, how to recognize danger, and how to keep your breathing steady when everything around you became chaotic. He had never treated you like you were fragile, but he had never allowed you to be careless either.

Then a loud explosion echoed from somewhere ahead.

Everyone stopped.

A second blast followed.

Kirishima looked toward the sound.

Kirishima: “That was one of the training machines.”

Bakugo's hands sparked.

Bakugo: “Finally.”

Iida immediately raised one hand.

Iida: “Wait! We don't know what that was!”

Another explosion shook the trees. This time, birds erupted from the branches overhead. Aizawa's voice came through the communication system.

Aizawa: “Everyone stay where you are.”

The students froze. His tone was different. Not annoyed. Not tired. Serious.

You recognized it instantly. Your father used that voice when something had gone wrong.

Aizawa: “Teachers are monitoring the exercise.”

For once, nobody argued.

The forest suddenly felt much larger and much quieter. The exercises had been controlled and predictable, but the instructors had designed them to keep the students alert. Distant branches shifted. Footsteps moved somewhere beyond the trees. Then another explosion sounded, and the students exchanged uneasy glances.

Todoroki's gaze sharpened.

Todoroki: “That was probably another group reaching their scenario.”

Izuku was already reaching for his notebook before remembering that this wasn't the time.

Izuku: “The timing makes sense. The exercises are getting more difficult as we progress.”

Momo nodded.

Momo: “Agreed. We should stay focused and continue following the route.”

A faint crackle came through the communication system.

Then Aizawa's voice returned.

Aizawa: “Proceed to the next checkpoint.”

The students began moving again, more cautiously than before.

You kept your eyes on the trees, listening for anything that didn't belong. Your father's lessons echoed in your mind: don't focus only on what you can see. Watch the spaces between things.

For several seconds, nobody spoke.

Then a recorded scream echoed through the forest.

It was clearly part of the exercise, but everyone knew that immediately. The sound was followed by a burst of artificial smoke rising between the trees.

Kirishima clenched his fists.

Kirishima: “We have to help.”

Iida: “We were instructed to follow the marked route!”

Kirishima: “And someone just screamed!”

The conflict lasted only seconds. Then a training beacon flashed ahead, revealing the correct path. The two classes moved together, shoulder to shoulder, toward the next scenario. Whatever challenge waited for them, they would face it as students training to become heroes.

For once, they weren't competing. They were learning how to rescue civilians, support one another, and make the right decisions under pressure.

The provisional license exam had not even begun, but the training camp was giving them exactly the preparation they had come for.

The following morning, the teachers gathered both classes in a wide clearing. The students stood in uneven rows, still sore from the previous day's training but alert enough to notice the equipment arranged across the field.

Three light-up targets rested on a table beside several containers filled with balls.

Aizawa stepped forward.

Aizawa: “Your first exam will be divided into multiple phases. The first is called the Target Game.”

The students exchanged curious looks.

You watched your father carefully. He looked as tired as ever, but you knew him well enough to notice the slight shift in his posture. He was focused now, fully in teacher mode. At home, he was your father. Here, he was responsible for every student standing in the clearing, including you.

Aizawa: “Each participant will have three light-up targets placed on their body. You will also be given six balls. If you hit an opponent's targets, all three will turn on, and that student will be disqualified.”

Kaminari blinked.

Kaminari: “So we just have to hit three targets?”

Aizawa: “No. You have to eliminate two other participants.”

The clearing erupted into startled murmurs.

Aizawa: “The first one hundred participants to eliminate two opponents will pass this phase. Once your targets are activated, you're out. There will be no second chances.”

Bakugo grinned, sparks snapping from his palms.

Bakugo: “Finally, something worth doing.”

Kendo glanced toward Monoma.

Kendo: “Stay focused. Don't waste your balls trying to show off.”

Monoma: “I would never waste an opportunity to demonstrate Class 1-B's superiority.”

Kendo: “That is exactly what I mean.”

Izuku studied the targets and balls carefully, already analyzing possible strategies.

Izuku: “We need to protect our own targets while finding openings in everyone else's defenses. Positioning and teamwork will be just as important as accuracy.”

Todoroki looked across the field.

Todoroki: “Then the strongest approach may be to form temporary groups.”

Aizawa: “You may cooperate if you choose. But remember, only the first one hundred people to eliminate two others pass.”

His eyes moved across the students before stopping briefly on you.

Aizawa: “That includes you. Don't expect special treatment.”

The teachers began attaching the targets to the students' bodies. Each target glowed faintly, waiting to be activated. Six balls were placed into every participant's hands.

A few students nearby laughed. Aizawa gave you the same exhausted look he had given Kaminari earlier.

The atmosphere changed immediately. The exhaustion from training was replaced by tension and anticipation. Classmates who had spent the previous day helping one another now watched each other carefully, calculating distance, cover, and escape routes.

Aizawa raised one hand.

Aizawa: “When the signal sounds, the game begins.”

The students spread out across the field.

Kirishima rolled his shoulders.

Kirishima: “Let's make this manly!”

Mina bounced on her toes.

Mina: “Just don't hit me in the face!”

Bakugo crouched low, eyes fixed on the nearest opponents.

Bakugo: “Try not to get in my way.”

Aizawa lowered his hand.

For one brief moment, his eyes met yours again.

It wasn't encouragement. Your father rarely gave encouragement in a way anyone else could recognize. It was a warning, a reminder, and a silent promise that he was watching.

You gave him a small nod.

A sharp signal rang across the clearing.

The Target Game began.