6

A sudden pop, and Tenya Ida’s eyes snapped open. It was his own bursting snot bubble that had done it, but Ida was still emerging from dreamland and was barely aware. Surrounded by complete darkness, he had to blink a few times to confirm he was actually awake. A nearby snore sealed the deal, reminding Ida where he was, and why. He wasn’t one to suffer a sloppy sleep cycle—he took pride in his regulated lifestyle, choosing specific bedtimes and deciding precisely when to awaken. After all, that sort of discipline was the first step toward a mature, independent adulthood. In the dark, Ida grimaced at this particular failing, as lack of proper sleep would mean less stamina the following day, and this training camp demanded stamina above all else.

I ought to get right back to sleep, then.

But that certain someone kept snoring, and the sound had penetrated Ida’s consciousness. He couldn’t not hear it anymore. Still, the snorer wasn’t acting intentionally, so Ida couldn’t hold it against him. Whoever he was, he must be just as tired as Ida was.

We did endure quite a day, today.

Though it had technically been yesterday, it was close enough in memory that Ida still thought of it as “today.” Starting at 5:30 a.m., the students of classes A and B had trained to strengthen their Quirks. Then they’d made curry for dinner, which wasn’t as good as the sort served in restaurants but was still a welcome relief for their empty bellies. Most had taken seconds. After dinner, they had had the squabble with class B over nikujaga meat and, finally, a good scolding from Aizawa.

If only I had been a better leader!

In the dark silence, Ida blamed himself for failing in his capacity as referee.

Aizawa had also laid into Minoru Mineta for his peeping attempt, so the combined lecture had gone on until bedtime, just about. Wary that Mineta might try creeping into the girls’ room during the night, the boys had wrapped their smallest classmate in his own futon, like a sushi roll. He’d begged them to use ropes instead—it was anyone’s guess why—but nobody was in the mood to honor the request.

The snoring stopped, almost too suddenly. Ida gasped.

What if this individual suffers from sleep apnea…?

Fearing for his classmate’s life, Ida leaped up and, on instinct, reached for his glasses next to his pillow. His hand struck empty, though—his glasses case simply wasn’t there. His vision was a respectable 20/25 even without glasses, but Ida never wanted to miss a thing, so he opted to use the corrective lenses at all times. In this case, he kept calm and pressed on without them, as the snorer’s well-being came first. Based on the direction and intensity, it had to have been Rikido Sato.

“Hey. Sato…”

“Zzz… Zzz… Too much. So full…”

Ida was relieved to know that Sato’s irregular breathing had been a temporary anomaly.

Thank heavens… Goodness, though—he’s been tossing and turning.

Sato had kicked his bedding off, leaving him exposed to the still air of the room, so Ida gently replaced the blanket atop his classmate. Summer or not, the chill of night could still do a lot of harm.

“Hmm?”

The room wasn’t pitch-dark, per se, and as Ida’s eyes adjusted, the faint light penetrating the room’s shoji doors from outside revealed that more of his classmates were not exactly sound sleepers. Plenty had arms and legs dangling off their futons, or worse. Ida couldn’t imagine taking such a slovenly approach to slumber.

“It’s as if they’re just begging to catch colds,” whispered Ida to himself as he set out to right these wrongs, since he would’ve had a hard time falling back asleep knowing his friends might suffer. He also needed a trip to the bathroom. That made two tasks on the agenda before Ida could curl back up into his own futon. Well, three.

First, my glasses…

Ida might as well have been missing a limb. He searched again, but the case was nowhere near his pillow, nor buried under his futon.

Where could they have gotten to…? Ah, perhaps…

Maybe one of his thrashing classmates had accidentally kicked his glasses case across the room?

I might as well continue my search while tucking them all back in, then…

Ever the Boy Scout, Ida had brought several backup pairs of glasses on this trip—concerned that some might be chewed up and spit out by the harsh training—but to misplace a pair outright would be to disrespect the craftsperson who made them.

Here I go…

Koji Koda was closest to Sato and had half of his body exposed to the indoor elements, so Ida began by fixing the quiet, animal-loving boy’s bedding. He also swept the area around Koda and Sato, since odds were the glasses case was nearby. No such luck, though.

He moved on to Izuku Midoriya, who slept closest to Ida’s own futon. Midoriya lay on his side and issued regular, gentle breaths, but his blanket covered only his lower half. When Ida tugged it up to his shoulder, Midoriya mumbled and squirmed a bit but showed no sign of waking. He must’ve been having a pleasant dream, since he chuckled like a kid with candy. Ida himself couldn’t help but smile at this, and it reassured him that this mission to ensure restful sleep for his friends was a worthy one. More rigorous training awaited them all in just a few hours, so the class president was determined to see his electorate well rested and prepared.

Riding this momentum, Ida carefully searched around Midoriya’s futon for the glasses, but still nothing. He moved toward Midoriya’s neighbor, Shoto Todoroki, and was shocked to find that the boy had somehow flipped around completely, with his feet on his pillow where his head ought to have been.

I would expect Todoroki to sleep more soundly than this…

Ida was conflicted. Should he try to realign his friend, placing head on pillow? No, that was likely to wake him up, so all Ida did was replace Todoroki’s blanket.

“Hrmm…”

A pained grumble. A concerned Ida drew close enough to see Todoroki’s face contort and his forehead shimmer with a cold sweat, suggesting that he was in the throes of a nightmare. Perhaps waking him would be the right thing to do, if he were actually unwell? Todoroki’s mouth puckered bitterly, and he started sleep talking.

“Hope you choke on that kuzumochi…”

Kuzumochi? Why?

Ida couldn’t have known that Endeavor, Todoroki’s father, was partial to kuzumochi.

If he’s merely dreaming of food, perhaps it’s best to let sleeping dogs lie…?

The search for the glasses case continued to no avail, so Ida moved on to the next troubled sleeper. He spied a boy facedown, propped up on his knees, head buried in a pile of pillows.

I commend whomever this is for successfully falling asleep in that position…

Ida carefully removed the pillows one at a time and quickly recognized the bright shock of hair underneath.

Oh. It’s Kaminari.

After Ida had gone to bed, Denki Kaminari and the rest of the remedial crowd had returned from their lessons and enjoyed their own little pillow fight in silence, which had resulted in the spectacle Ida now stumbled across. How Kaminari had managed to fall asleep like that was a mystery, but the class president decided only to replace the blanket and continued the search for his glasses.

While groping between the futons, Ida nearly missed the arm that came thrusting at him from behind.

“Hiyahh!”

Ida spun around just in time to glimpse a sharpened, bladelike hand and dodge out of the way. Eijiro Kirishima had activated his Hardening Quirk in his sleep, and his knife hand pierced straight through a stray pillow. Ida’s tuck and roll landed him next to another messy sleeper—Katsuki Bakugo.

“Escaped by a hair…” remarked Ida to himself.

Kirishima exhaled in short puffs while continuing to stab at Kaminari’s pillows, as if in the middle of a training exercise. Ida sighed and replaced Kirishima’s blanket. They’d all slept like logs the previous night—their first at the lodge—so it hadn’t occurred to Ida how much trouble their Quirks might cause while bunking together.

Bakugo’s midriff was fully exposed, so Ida was sure to fix his blanket as well. Then Sero’s, though Sero himself had rolled off his futon straight onto the floor, near Bakugo’s feet. Something soft fwumped against Ida—it was Bakugo’s blanket, replaced only moments ago. The boy must’ve been feeling overheated.

We can’t have your abdomen getting cold, though, Bakugo.

Ida pulled the blanket just up to Bakugo’s chest, but the kick that shoved it off this time seemed to scream, “Don’t test me!” Bakugo was Bakugo, even in his sleep. Ida tried again several times, until his classmate was apparently perturbed enough to fire off a small explosion from one palm.

“Ack!”

Ida instinctively turned away from the bright flash, and in that instant, he spotted what looked like his glasses case a few feet away, between Mashirao Ojiro and Mezo Shoji. He gave up on Bakugo’s blanket, opting instead to tug the boy’s tank top down over his stomach, ever so gingerly.

Let’s check over here…

But in racing to his glasses, Ida forgot to watch his step. He stomped down hard on Ojiro’s tail, which was drooping off the futon to one side, and it took Ida a second to realize what had been squished underfoot.

The tail was like a third arm to Ojiro. For many animals, the versatile tail could express emotions, warn allies of danger, and so on, so it was only natural that Ojiro reacted violently to Ida’s unwitting assault. Though Ojiro himself remained asleep, the tail awoke, grabbed the offender, and flung him into the air.

Ida landed squarely in Shoji’s arms, which quickly bound him in a full choke hold. Shoji must’ve been battling a villain in his dream, because he squeezed Ida with a brute strength that none in the class could match. Ida’s life flashed before his eyes, but more dire was the sudden pressure on his already stressed bladder. He attempted to tap out, as if to cry uncle, but Shoji had no intention of releasing whatever villain had invaded his dreams.

What saved Ida turned out to be Kaminari, who happened to roll toward Shoji’s futon with a “Yayyy…” In his desperate struggle, Ida lashed out and grabbed ahold of one of Kaminari’s ankles.

“Nngyah?”

Kaminari’s eyes popped open for a second as he discharged a burst of electricity. Shoji flinched at the loud zap and flash of light, giving Ida a brief window to escape his grip and roll away.

Another “Yayyy…” from Kaminari, who fell back asleep instantly. Ida breathed a sigh of relief but quickly realized he’d lost track of his glasses again.

Where could they be now…?

Ida moved toward Yuga Aoyama, at one end of the mass of futons. The boy’s blanket was displaced, revealing his dramatic pose as he slept, like something out of a Renaissance fresco. Ida covered up Aoyama and scanned the area, but still no glasses. Nearby, Fumikage Tokoyami lay faceup and perfectly still, wrapped impeccably in his blanket. The boy’s shallow breathing was the only indicator that he really was sleeping.

Tokoyami is the image of discipline, even in his sleep!

Ida gave an approving nod and moved on to Mineta, still bundled in his futon like a pig in a blanket. No chance that he’d be afflicted by night chills, at least.

“Bring ’em on… Keep the boobs coming!” mumbled Mineta, causing Ida to wonder what sort of dream the boy might possibly be having. But the class president suddenly realized that something was off about Mineta’s silhouette. In addition to the perfectly round pop-off balls on his head, there was a smaller oval shape.

“Hmm? I’ve found them!”

Ida clamped his hands over his own mouth, having spoken louder than he meant to. After confirming that everyone was still sound asleep, he approached Mineta’s literal bedroll. The oval was the glasses case, of course, stuck fast to one of Mineta’s head balls.

This does present a problem…

Ida’s joy faded instantly, and he crossed his arms in thought. Anything stuck to Mineta’s balls couldn’t be ripped away for a full day, so even if the glasses case had gotten stuck around bedtime, it would be many hours, at least, before it would fall off of its own accord. Mineta himself could have torn the ball in question from his own head, but Ida wasn’t about to awaken his classmate. He was entitled to his sleep and dreams, if nothing else.

I’ll just have to extract my glasses, then.

Ida turned to face Mineta’s head and crouched, planning to open the case ever so carefully and remove the glasses. Fortunately, only half of the case adhered to the ball’s surface, leaving the hinge free to swivel. Ida’s fingers slowly moved toward their target, but Mineta started squirming.

“I toldja to bring me every last boob in this shop…”

Ida was perplexed. Breasts normally came attached to bodies, so how could a salesperson bring them out to a customer in discrete units? The notion of such a Boobatorium was patently absurd, even for a dream. The line of thought gave Ida pause and stayed his hand.

What if his fingers got stuck? Mineta would awaken without a doubt, and even if he agreed to pluck the offending ball from his head, Ida would still be left with a handful of sticky ball for the next half a day or more. Going to the bathroom and feeding himself, even, would become nearly impossible chores.

Ida hesitated and wondered if he should take care of his bladder first. No—all he had to do was get the case open. Simple. He composed himself, breathed deeply, and reached toward the stuck case once again with all the caution and precision of a professional bomb diffuser. His trembling fingers were nearly there.

“I said, bring out every last jiggly one you’ve got! The boobs of this world are my rightful property!”

The bizarre outburst made Ida flinch and retreat in spite of himself, and Mineta’s burrito bedding started to roll.

“No, wait, don’t run from me, boobs!” cried Mineta, apparently in hot pursuit of his desires within the dream.

“G-get back here!” whispered Ida, pursuing the pursuer. Mineta’s bed bundle deftly dodged between two of his classmate’s futons but was on a collision course with Kirishima. Bound tightly or not, there was no stopping Mineta when he was after this particular quarry.

“Watch out… Ah!”

Mineta crashed into Kirishima, and the impact sprung open the case, sending the glasses flying. Even in the dark, Ida tracked the arc they traced overhead, glinting like a shooting star in the night sky. A flash of despair—a fall from that height could break the glasses, or worse, injure a classmate, depending on where the hapless victim was struck. Already leaping into action, Ida prayed they’d land atop a soft futon. He couldn’t in good conscience activate his noisy “Engine” Quirk, so he watched helplessly as the glasses fell toward Tokoyami.

“Tokoyami, watch ou—“

Then, a miracle that made Ida gasp. Tokoyami’s arms swung open midflight like a pair of wings, and the glasses spun about before landing squarely on top of Tokoyami’s beaked face, as neatly as if he’d decided to try them on himself. Yet he remained fast asleep.

Ida had to catch himself. It is the sheer rarity of a miracle that defines a miracle, and Ida had a desperate urge to share with someone what he’d just witnessed. But to awaken a classmate at this point would be to spit in the face of the minor miracle of the glasses and all of Ida’s efforts thus far, so he sighed, plucked the glasses from Tokoyami’s face, and finally set out for the bathroom. Before closing the sliding screen to the room, the class president surveyed his soundly sleeping classmates one last time.

Having finished his business, an unusually refreshed Ida was heading back to the room when an odd clicking noise made him stop. He followed the sound down the dim corridor and found the door to the lodge’s office. A bit of light seeped through the gap around the frame.

“This year’s crop of first-years seem like fun kids, though.”

It was Mandalay’s voice. The clicking and clacking continued.

Ida was still puzzled, but more than that, he felt a wave of appreciation that one of his hosts was still hard at work this late. Before he could turn away, though, he heard another voice.

“Very sorry for the trouble earlier.”

Ah. It’s Aizawa Sensei.

His homeroom teacher’s unaffected drawl froze Ida in place. The competition between the boys and Mineta’s peeping attempt, in particular, were disturbances that Aizawa now felt the need to apologize for.

If only I had performed my duties as class president!

Ida pursed his lips and silently cursed his own negligence. He should’ve kept a closer eye on Mineta. He should’ve brought the matter of the nikujaga meat to a less chaotic resolution.

Sensei shouldn’t have to bear this burden alone. I should be in there too, apologizing…

Now Pixie-Bob’s jaunty voice rang out, as if to make light of Ida’s grim determination.

“Relaaax, it’s fine. We get it. High schoolers are bound to go a little wild now and then.”

“Still, though…”

The next voice, also wracked with guilt, was Vlad King’s.

“Our kids went a little too wild, this time. They can’t afford these sorts of distractions leading up to their licensing exam. Besides, the test of courage tomorrow was supposed to be the time for them to cut loose.”

“I wouldn’t sweat it,” replied Pixie-Bob. “High school’s the time when kids are desperate to have some fun. And your Hero Course cuties are stuck following the straight and narrow every darn day, right?”

“Those who think like that could never cut it in the Hero Course,” said Aizawa.

Ida took in a sharp breath. Aizawa’s tone was sharp as ever, but his words revealed the deep trust he had in his students.

He still has so much faith in us, despite our earlier failings…

U.A. High was not a school for the faint of heart. It set up mercilessly high hurdles and commanded its students to surpass them. But Ida knew that this severity was compassion in disguise, as the institution and its educators, Aizawa among them, believed wholeheartedly that the students could meet these challenges. Yes, the future heroes had mentors who believed in their potential, and nothing could be more reassuring. With renewed gusto, Ida took a deep breath and puffed out his chest.

We must prove that that faith in us is justified and then surpass their expectations. In other words…

Plus Ultra.

With his school’s motto resonating in his mind, Ida turned to leave. The priority here was certainly not bursting into the office and apologizing alongside his teacher. No, he would prove his worth during the next training session, which meant getting proper rest in the meantime.

What on earth was that clicking sound, though…?

Aizawa’s faith in his students sent Ida back to the room in high spirits, so his question remained unanswered, and he never heard the rest of the conversation.

“And if slackers like that did come to us, they’d be expelled in no time. There… Two hidden dora tiles give me an eight-thousand-point win.”

With that, Aizawa knocked over his winning set of mahjong tiles, shocking Vlad King, Mandalay, and Pixie-Bob.

“Two hidden dora?” roared Vlad.

Yes, it was a friendly game of mahjong that drew the teachers to the office this late at night. The game was to them what the pillow fight was to field tripping boys. Mahjong typically conjured an image of smoke-filled gambling halls, so perhaps it was for the best that the straitlaced Ida hadn’t witnessed the entire scene. With this last round finally over, the spectating Ragdoll and Tiger stood up with satisfied looks on their faces.

“Should we call it a night? Got another early morning tomorrow,” said Mandalay.

“Sounds good,” said a weary Vlad King, nodding.

“One more game! Pleeease!” begged Pixie-Bob.

“How many has it been, already?” said Aizawa, glaring and fed up.

Pixie-Bob had a reason for wanting to play on—she was unhappily single, and the others had promised to introduce her to some decent men if she won a round of mahjong. Sadly, the most enthusiastic player had already lost twice to the least motivated one—Aizawa. More than shogi or go, mahjong was a game that relied on luck, so a win for Pixie-Bob would’ve seemed to her like a divine prophecy that her days of singlehood would soon be over.

“See you tomorrow, then… Or, I guess it’s already today?” said Aizawa.

“Gonna be another intense day with you cool cats! Night!” added Vlad.

Mandalay waved good night to the two U.A. teachers as they left for their own sleeping quarters, while Ragdoll and Tiger kept teasing a supremely disappointed Pixie-Bob.

“You’ve got a real knack for mahjong, Eraser,” said Vlad.

“I’m about average,” replied Aizawa, relieved to be free from the exhausting table game. He glanced out the hallway window at the velvety-black, star-filled sky—a reminder of how far they were from the lights and action of the big city.

“Those little imps, though…” snorted Vlad, whose mind had drifted back to the boys’ unruly pillow fight.

“All the more reason to show them no mercy in a few hours.”

“Ah… One thing, Eraser.”

“Hmm?”

“You do realize my boys would’ve won that thing if we hadn’t interrupted?”

Vlad King dropped the comment casually, but Aizawa swiveled toward him with a glare. Vlad could act nonchalant at times, but the hot-blooded man in fact felt a great deal of warmth for his students, as most homeroom teachers would. In matters of A versus B, he was bound to root for his own team.

“Yeah. I wonder,” was the retort from an exhausted, annoyed Aizawa. He let the comment slide, but not because he felt any less fatherly toward his own kids. This prompted Vlad to shoot Aizawa a devilish grin that the latter ignored, attempting to change the subject.

“Anyhow, they’ll have to test for their provisional licenses soon.”

“For sure. Speaking of, I hear the Hero Killer is mostly recovered?”

“That’s what they say,” said Aizawa.

The idealistic Hero Killer went by the moniker “Stain.” The villain saw All Might as the only true hero out there and had attempted to purge society of what he saw as lesser, degenerate heroes by going on a mass-murdering spree. Ida’s older brother, Tensei, was one victim who had barely survived his encounter with the Hero Killer. Ida had sought revenge against Stain and gotten help in the nick of time from Midoriya and Todoroki. The three boys had triumphed in battle, leaving Stain heavily injured and locked behind bars for the time being.

Though Stain’s reign of terror had ended, his actions fed the imaginations of other such agents of evil—ones eking out existences in the shadows, kept down by modern society. The League of Villains, in particular, was all too eager to ride Stain’s coattails and take advantage of these shifting tides. Aizawa knew the emboldened league might lash out at his students again, so when that time came, he wanted the hero hopefuls to have legal permission to defend themselves.

“Let’s hope that’s the last we hear of him, anyway,” added Aizawa.

The wind rattled the windows.

Just a passing gust, but somehow ominous enough to fill Aizawa’s heart with an unknowable dread. He furrowed his brow instinctively and glanced out the window again, still finding only darkness and stars.

Stars that knew of the malice drawing near.