1

“Thank you again, for this! And see you tomorrow!” said Izuku Midoriya with a deep yet fidgety bow. He closed the door and stepped into the corridor, where Mirio Togata greeted him with a beaming, relaxed smile.

“Ah ha ha ha! So stiff, so rigid, Midoriya! You got approved by Sir, so cheer up, buttercup!” said the third-year boy.

“But, Togata … I dunno if I should really be celebrating …”

The students of U.A. High School had spent their summer adjusting to dorm life, and today was the first day of fall. These two were at Sir Nighteye’s hero agency, about an hour’s train ride away from U.A. Having successfully earned his provisional hero license, Midoriya now sought to learn a thing or two through a work study with All Might’s former sidekick, and since Togata had already been working with Nighteye, the older boy had tagged along to make the introduction.

Though Nighteye had accepted Midoriya’s application in the end, the strict hero hadn’t deemed the boy a worthy successor of All Might’s “One For All” Quirk, and he was determined to make Midoriya see things his way. What’s more, Midoriya had failed to steal Nighteye’s personal seal within three minutes (a task Nighteye had given him as a test of his abilities) and hadn’t even been able to make Nighteye laugh, which had been Togata’s suggestion at the start.

“I put everything I had into that All Might impression …and it flopped …” said Midoriya.

“It sure did! Swing and a miss!” agreed Togata jovially.

“Ugh …” groaned Midoriya, slumping over.

Midoriya wasn’t usually one to fall into a funk, but his misfire of a joke haunted him. And what’s more, Nighteye had informed him that Togata had actually been the original candidate to inherit One For All. The fact that All Might had never mentioned this now weighed on Midoriya.

“But you two turned into total fanboys over All Might! Sir even seemed to enjoy it!” said Togata with a grin, unaware of Midoriya’s inner turmoil.

“You really think so …?”

“Really, for real! I mean, I’m an All Might fan myself, but trivia like that is way outta my league.”

Midoriya raised his eyes. Togata’s comment got him thinking.

“That’s understandable!” he said. “Not many people know about the Vinegar Suicide incident, but it’s the perfect illustration of how All Might’s actually a witty jokester! It’s not just about having the strength to beat up villains, it’s also about having the humanity and kindness—backed up by humor—to reassure those in need, like that half-drowned boy. They actually talk about it in the afterword of All Might’s Gags and Jokes: A Compendium. How, like, his jokes have the cynical edge of American humor, while also being warm and relatable enough to inspire others …”

“He put out a jokebook, even? Who knew!”

“I saw it on Sir’s bookshelf, actually. The revised edition. Oh, that reminds me! Didja see that tenth-anniversary tapestry? That one’s so rare collectors refer to it as mythical merch. Or that life-size cardboard cutout! That was never mass-produced for the public, so it probably came from some invite-only celebration,” continued Midoriya, the tinge of envy in his voice growing.

“Y’know, I hear that’s not even Sir’s whole collection,” said Togata. “They say he’s got a whole storage unit chock full of All Might merch.”

“Whoaaa … You think he’d let me live in there?”

“Unlikely, but maybe you could get a peek?” said Togata with a straight face, but now that the topic had turned to All Might merchandise, Midoriya was off and running. As the excitable first-year blathered on, Togata took a good look at him and started thinking about Sir Nighteye. While on the job, the hero was impenetrable, with a glare as sharp as a knife, but off the clock, he would watch old clips of All Might and let those stern features relax, if only a little. Nighteye was and always had been a big fan of All Might, even though the two had had a falling out several years ago.

Sir and Midoriya … They’re more alike than they know.

Togata realized that, despite their radically different ways of showing it, the mentor and his new mentee both idolized All Might. That must mean they had some fundamental things in common, right? Hopefully, that common ground would lead to a good working relationship.

“And then there was … Huh? Togata? What’s wrong?” said Midoriya, snapping Togata out of his thoughts.

“Nah, nothing. But, hey—I hope you’re ready to give it your all starting tomorrow!”

While Togata reflected on those two devotees of the All Might gospel, Fumikage Tokoyami was down in Fukuoka, doing his own work study with Hawks.

“Tick, tock,” said the hero.

By the time Tokoyami got to the roof of the building, an impatient Hawks had already captured the villain that he and his team were after. The boy was getting used to the sight of prepackaged villains, tied and bound by Hawks, ready for processing. The police and other sidekicks arrived moments later to take the villain into custody.

“How about we take a breather?” suggested Hawks, passing out soft drinks to his team. One of the sidekicks asked when the boss had had the time to buy refreshments, so Hawks explained that during the chase, he’d rescued a lost child, and the grateful parent had offered the drinks as a reward.

Like they say, he’s almost too fast …

Tokoyami used this brief respite to have a seat and think. Hawks’s Quirk, “Fierce Wings,” allowed him to multitask at top speed, and his efforts had made him a top-ten hero as a teen—the youngest ever to pull off that feat. Hence his reputation for excess speed in all things.

Tokoyami was doing a better job keeping up with the winged hero than he had several months before back during his internship, but at the end of the day, there was no measuring up to a man who could soar through the skies with ease.

“So, what’s Endeavor’s kid like?”

Tokoyami’s eyes grew wide at the out-of-the-blue question from Hawks, who’d stealthily sat down next to the boy. Shoto Todoroki was, of course, Tokoyami’s classmate and the son of the provisional number one hero, Endeavor. Though Tokoyami didn’t know the specifics, it was obvious from Todoroki’s attitude how little he cared for his fiery father.

“He’s extremely capable,” said Tokoyami, after some thought. “He excels both inside the classroom and out.”

“Hmm. And personalitywise, he’s just like his old man, I’m guessing?” said Hawks.

“No. He tends to be cool, calm, and collected, actually.”

Hawks must’ve found something funny about this answer, since he replied with an intrigued grin and an amused “Ooh.” Tokoyami squinted, wondering why his mentor was so curious about the Todoroki family. This didn’t go unnoticed by Hawks.

“It’s just that I’m a fan of Endeavor,” he said with a laugh, reading Tokoyami’s expression. His smile seemed childish with a hidden edge of cunning, but he cloaked himself in his broad red wings before Tokoyami could get a closer look.

“Hey, hey, didja hear? Lunch Rush Sensei’s got a limited-time tapioca milk rice bowl!”

“Yeah, I heard the rumors! I haven’t had the courage to try it yet, though.”

“What could it possibly taste like? Ribbit.”

Nejire Hado, Ochaco Uraraka, and Tsuyu Asui were all doing their work study at Ryukyu’s agency, and Hado’s mention of the cafeteria’s newest offering had the first-years doubting. They’d finished their work for the day, and now it was teatime; floral notes of jasmine and the sweet scent of cookies filled the office.

“Togata tried it and said it’s tastier than you’d think,” said Hado. “Like ochazuke filled with sweet little balls.”

“That makes sense, but I’m still having a tough time imagining!” said Uraraka.

“It could be worth trying, at least once. Maybe. Ribbit,” said Asui.

“Sounds like cutting-edge cuisine to me,” said Ryukyu, watching over the three girls and their animated conversation. Hado got up in the hero’s face and said, “You’d eat it, right, Ryukyu? You totally would! Yeah! Yeah?”

“No, I think I’d pass,” said Ryukyu with an awkward smile.

“Villain on the run on Espa Street,” came a voice from the police scanner in the office. “Requesting immediate hero backup—”

In an instant, the relaxed mood evaporated. The four of them stood, ready for action. Teatime was over.

“With me, girls.”

“Okaaay!” said Hado.

“Yes, ma’am,” responded Uraraka and Asui in unison as they broke into a run.

A perfect portrait of a hero and her three gallant sidekicks.

Meanwhile, Eijiro Kirishima’s work study had brought him to one corner of Osaka.

“Got the tastiest takoyaki you’ll find, over here! With the chunkiest octopus chunks in town!”

“Okonomiyaki! Get yer okonomiyaki here!”

“Here to see the danjiri festival floats? That pairs perfectly with our delish horumonyaki!”

The stall vendors hawked their street food with gusto, earning an impressed “Wow!” from Kirishima.

“I had no clue there’d be this much energy at my first-ever float festival!” he added.

This particular festival was famous nationwide, and it drew huge crowds. Naturally, crowds led to pickpocketing, squabbles, and full-blown fights, so heroes would do their part by patrolling during the festivities. Festivalgoers wore straight-sleeved happi coats representing whichever town they called home, and now they waited for the floats to start coming down the streets. Local pride was always on the line, and they would’ve given anything if it meant that their hometown float turned out faster and more glorious than the others, since this festival was the one time each year when they could really shine.

Next to Kirishima, Tamaki Amajiki yanked his costume’s hood forward in an attempt to shield himself from the hustle and bustle.

“Ugh, festivals … Always so loud. Wild. Chaotic …”

“That’s cuz it gets the blood pumping! Everyone’s hyped as heck!” said Fat Gum with a hearty laugh, causing his tubby body to shake and jiggle. Kirishima and Amajiki were, of course, doing their work studies under the hero Fat Gum.

“Fat! Here, try our takoyaki!”

“‘Preciate it!” said Fat Gum, taking the complimentary food from the hawker. The people of Osaka loved their hometown hero for his round body (which was not unlike a morsel of takoyaki) and general geniality—hence the nonstop stream of offers from those running the food stalls.

“Oh! I saw this youngster on the news!” said the hawker, glancing at Kirishima. “Your newest sidekick, right, Fat? Red Riot, was it? You were great out there, kid! Have some extra green onion topping, on the house! And give your gloomy pal some takoyaki, too! Maybe it’ll put a bit of pep in his step!”

“Thanks a ton!” said Kirishima.

“Gloomy …?” muttered Amajiki, taken aback.

“Probably just cuz you’ve got your hood pulled up like that! Kinda dark, yeah? But don’t sweat it, dude!” said Kirishima, trying to cheer up his friend. “And hey—your Quirk came back! That’s great, huh!”

“Yeah …”

Fat Gum and the two boys had run into a gang of villains during the first patrol of their work study, and in the turmoil, Amajiki had been shot with a drug that had disabled his Quirk. Thankfully, the effects had worn off by the next day. Behind the scenes, Kai Chisaki and his Hassai Group were plotting to revive the yakuza, and part of the plan involved disseminating and testing the Quirk-killing drug created from the gang’s boss’s granddaughter, Eri, and her own Quirk. For now, though, Amajiki and Kirishima were blissfully unaware of these dark dealings. Fat Gum thought the whole thing seemed fishy, but all three were relieved that Amajiki’s Quirk wasn’t gone for good.

“Y’know, Tamaki, you’d be one heckuva hero if you could shake that doom ’n’ gloom act,” said Fat Gum, with a mouthful of takoyaki.

“The extra pressure doesn’t help! I know about my issues better than anyone!” shot back Amajiki.

“That was totally a compliment, dude!” said Kirishima.

They kept patrolling the busy streets as they snacked on takoyaki, and the rich smells of sweet sauces and grilling meat wafting from the stalls made their mouths water.

“Ooh, three of those beef skewers, mister! Plus, three ikayaki! And three butaman while you’re at it, miss!”

“Whoa, Fat! I think I’m good!” said Kirishima in an attempt to pump the brakes, since Fat Gum couldn’t help but order from every stall they passed.

“What’s that? Full already?” asked the hero.

“Nah, not ready to burst, but it’ll already be tough enough if we gotta break into a sprint or something … But hey—don’t mind me! You keep chowing down!”

Fat Gum’s Quirk, “Fat Absorption,” gave him a body that could absorb attacks without taking damage. Villains caught by the blubber would quickly lose the will to resist, feeling as if they were sinking into the world’s comfiest couch.

Amajiki’s Quirk, on the other hand, was “Manifest,” and it allowed him to reproduce features of whatever he’d eaten recently by making them sprout from his own body. In other words, for both him and Fat Gum, eating was just another part of the job. Still, after finishing his butaman, Amajiki nodded at Kirishima’s assessment.

“Yeah, I think I’ve had enough variety today already.”

“Couple a lightweights, you two!” said Fat. “Hey, mister! One choco-banana, if y’would!”

The heavyweight hero was just as partial to sweet as he was savory, and he scarfed down the banana in a single bite. It was a reasonable assumption that at the end of the day, he just loved eating.

“Hmm, with U.A. switching over to dorms and all, what’re you kids doing for meals nowadays?” asked Fat Gum.

“Lunch Rush Sensei’s food gets carted over to the dorms,” said Kirishima. “We’re free to cook for ourselves, of course, but most of us just go for the school food, cuz it’s delish!”

“And there’re plenty of options, too. All nutritious,” added Amajiki with a small nod.

“Well, I gotta say—dorm life sounds like a hoot! Hanging out with your pals like it’s a school trip every day,” said Fat Gum.

“Feels pretty normal now that we’re used to it, though I do have a blast getting to chat with everyone all the time! Right, Amajiki?” said Kirishima.

“I do have at least one good friend …” said Amajiki.

“Do fights ever break out?” asked Fat Gum.

“Actually, yeah. Happened the other day,” said Kirishima, still scanning the area. “With these two guys in my class, who’ve known each other forever.”

“Hah! Even at that elite school! Thought so!” said Fat Gum, whose eyes grew unexpectedly wide at Kirishima’s answer.

“Right …” said Amajiki, remembering. “That’s what had Hound Dog Sensei so worked up the other day …”

After Midoriya and Katsuki Bakugo had snuck out one night and started going at it, Hound Dog, the school life supervisor, had had some choice words for the student body at the opening ceremony for the new semester.

“But, dude, I’m telling ya, those two? There’s always been bad juju between them … Bakugo and Midoriya, I mean,” explained Kirishima.

“Hmm? The two from the Sports Festival, right?” said Fat Gum. “The one who beat himself up something fierce, and the one who took home the first-years’ top prize? So those two’re childhood buddies, huh?”

“Mirio had his eye on Midoriya … But I guess Bakugo was still on lockdown when Mirio sparred with your whole class?” asked Amajiki.

“Yup! Bakugo used to be spoiling for a fight all the time, but ever since he and Midoriya scrapped for real, he’s been acting a little more housebroken!” said Kirishima with a grin, and Fat Gum shot back a smile of his own.

“It’s a great thing, youth! How ‘bout you, Tamaki? Ever duked it out with Mirio down by the riverside? I’m thinking … not?”

Amajiki returned the smile with a frown.

“No … We’ve never fought about anything.”

“Get outta here! Not even an argument? And you’ve been pals since elementary?” asked Fat Gum.

“Neither of us ever did anything worth fighting about, I guess …” said Amajiki.

“Nah, I get it, though. Mirio’s just such a cheery dude all the time,” said Kirishima.

“Yeah … He’s pretty amazing, honestly,” added Amajiki, smiling as if Kirishima’s compliment had somehow been aimed at him. Kirishima thought of Bakugo and Midoriya again, and how he hadn’t once witnessed them engage in polite conversation since school started. And if they ever did? It’d be the talk of class A for days.

Whatever! Friends, frenemies—it takes all types, I guess!

Kirishima dropped the comparison in his mind, admitting to himself that some people just weren’t destined to get along. Even those with seemingly rocky relationships might get on better than the rest of the world knew, so it wasn’t his place to expect identical friendships from every pair.

“Bakugo’s just the type to explode and tell you how he really feels,” said Kirishima.

“Meaning …?” said Amajiki.

“The way I see it, he’s honest with himself!” said Kirishima with a grin.

As they talked, one especially gaudy float on the roadside caught Kirishima’s eye; the handlers were hard at work preparing, since it was nearly time for the parade. From what Kirishima had heard, these portable shrine floats were three to four meters tall and weighed about four tons. While the handlers towed the shrine on wheels, a designated cartwright would dance on the roof with uchiwa fans and shout directions to the handlers. These cartwrights were the real stars who gave energy to the festival, as they had to maintain their balance while the floats zoomed down the streets at high speed.

As the trio oohed and aahed, a young cartwright clambered onto the roof of the float. He had chiseled features and an equally chiseled physique under his distinctive happi coat, and the heroic pose he struck elicited cheers from his squad mates, who all wore matching happi.

“Looking gooood, Little Ei!”

“Yeah! You’re rocking it!”

“Erm, thanks?” blurted Kirishima, who’d also been called “Ei” during his middle school days. The float squad turned to him in confusion, and he explained the misunderstanding in a hurry.

“Sorry, I also go by Ei, so I thought you meant me!”

“I’ve got the same nickname as a hero? What an honor!” said the young cartwright, beaming and shooting his hands into the air. Kirishima thought he seemed like a decent guy. The rest of the squad thanked the trio for patrolling during the festival, and though they seemed a little rough around the edges, they were all as good natured as the cartwright.

“Give ‘em hell out there, mister!” shouted Kirishima toward the young man on the roof.

“Will do!”

Fat Gum and the boys couldn’t stay in one spot too long, but as they turned to leave, they heard a shout from behind.

“You okay, Little Ei?”

“Getting nervous, buddy?”

The young cartwright must have slipped, because he was now sitting awkwardly on the roof, bracing himself with his arms.

“Y-you morons! Me? Nervous? On today of all days? Naw, someone left a banana peel up here, is all!”

“Oof! That’s twice you’ve flopped, Little Ei! First, flat on your ass, and then with that dud of a joke!”

“Wow, that’s the thanks I get for trying to calm all of your nerves with some classic humor!” said the cartwright with a laugh as he stood back up on the roof. Kirishima could sense that something was amiss, and he noticed that the cartwright’s legs were trembling. His intuition was more spot on than he knew.

“I’ve got some business to attend to, so you two take a break, okay?”

After a bit more patrolling, Fat Gum was summoned to police headquarters, so Kirishima and Amajiki snuck away from the crowds, got some drinks, and found a spot in an alley to rest.

“Nothing beats fruit punch,” said Kirishima.

“And since they put milk in it here in Osaka, it’s kind of creamy,” said Amajiki.

“Milk, huh? Does that mean you’ll be able to manifest cow parts now?”

“Of course.”

“What about the fruit, though?”

Before Amajiki could answer, the boys heard a familiar voice.

“I’m really, really sorry for all that, back then …”

Nearby, the young cartwright from earlier was bowing in apology to a mother and her child—a boy of about five.

“Never you mind! We know it was an accident, and my boy’s been all healed up for ages now. Isn’t that right, Ken?”

“Yeah! Doesn’t even hurt at all when I run now! But hey, hey, Mister Ei, when’s your float gonna come out?”

“We’re fifth in line, I think …”

“Cool! Mom, let’s go find a spot to watch, quick! Good luck, Mister Ei!”

With that, the pair left the alley, the boy tugging impatiently on his mother’s hand. The cartwright saw them off with a pained look that showed no trace of his earlier bravado.

“Hey, isn’t he …?” said Kirishima.

“Yeah. From earlier …” said Amajiki.

They guessed that the young man probably didn’t want to be seen in this state, so they hesitated to approach.

“Back I go, then …” said the cartwright to himself, but as he started to walk away, he slipped and fell on his rear.

“It really was a stinkin’ banana peel this time!” he said, quipping to no one in particular.

“Leave it to Osaka, the capital of comedy!” said Kirishima, staring at the fruit peel in disbelief.

“It probably came from one of those choco-banana stalls,” said Amajiki, offering a reasoned take that satisfied Kirishima. The cartwright finally noticed the boys and gave them a weak smile.

“Ha ha … You fellas aren’t seeing my best side today, I swear …”

“Um, are you hurt, mister?” asked Kirishima, lending the cartwright a hand. Both boys noticed that his legs were trembling again, and upon noticing that they’d noticed, he fell silent.

“So, what happened, exactly?” asked Kirishima, unable to resist after everything he’d seen. The question made the cartwright’s face crumple like that of a child on the verge of tears, but sometimes it was a hero’s job to meddle.

“Being a cartwright … It was always my dream,” explained the young man haltingly, clearly unused to telling his story. “And last year, that dream of mine finally came true … But …”

During his first festival as cartwright, the previous year, he’d given the squad a badly timed cue and accidentally sent the float toppling over, hurting little Ken in the process. It wasn’t a major injury, and the family had accepted the float squad’s profuse apology, but as this year’s festival approached, Ei the cartwright couldn’t help but brood about the incident.

“I was fine all during practice, but now that today’s the day … What if I hurt someone else? And slipping earlier like that … I’m a mess,” he said with a clear tremor in his voice, despite his best efforts to remain composed.

Kirishima and Amajiki listened to the tale attentively.

Even when up against bloodthirsty villains, heroes had a duty to fight for justice without taking lives. They must also be keenly aware of their surroundings at all times to prevent bystanders from coming to harm. Heroes could brush off their own injuries, but more than anything, they feared hurting others. In this sense, Kirishima and Amajiki saw in the cartwright not a simple coward, but someone doing his best to be kind and strong. It got Kirishima thinking about his own experiences during middle school.

He had idolized Crimson Riot—a hero who stood for chivalry—and had been inspired enough to set his sights on becoming a hero himself. In Kirishima’s quest to embody that chivalrous spirit, he had stuck his neck out for the bullied and honed his body until it was strong enough to defend the meek, but his relatively unremarkable “Hardening” Quirk was a sore spot that had left him lacking confidence.

One day, an ominous giant with a radio hanging from his neck had shown up in the neighborhood and asked some of Kirishima’s schoolmates for directions. The girls had found themselves paralyzed by instinctual fear, as the giant exuded an unsettling, palpable, almost toxic bloodlust.

Kirishima had known he had to act, but he’d found his feet glued to the pavement by that same terror, even with the teary-eyed girls just a stone’s throw away. Where he’d been unable to do a thing, another schoolmate—Mina Ashido—had. Despite her own fear, she had leaped between the giant and his would-be victims.

It was around that time that Kirishima had seen a similar incident on the news, when a middle schooler from somewhere or other had been captured by a powerful villain. That boy, too, had had a classmate who was willing to dive into action on the slim hope of saving his friend, so clearly there were people out there who could dash headlong into danger when lives were on the line. Meanwhile, Kirishima himself hadn’t been able to move a muscle.

It had crushed him. Made him feel small, weak, and pathetic, and he’d been reckoning with that shame ever since.

“I get it, mister. I’ve been paralyzed by that same sorta fear before,” said Kirishima to the cartwright.

Amajiki looked a little shocked to hear this.

“But it’s like Crimson Riot said—villains’re scary and dying’s scary, but the scariest of all is not saving a life that you could’ve … For me, I can’t afford to stay scared and let that stop me. Cuz being chivalrous means …there are times when you gotta swallow that fear and pretend everything’s A-OK anyway.”

At Kirishima’s earnest words, the cartwright paused and then gave a small smile.

“I’m a fan of Crimson Riot too, y’know. But …turning those ideals into reality ain’t so easy …” he said.

“Aw, c’mon, Mister Ei …” said Kirishima in protest.

“Naw, I can’t, I won’t … I hate to do it, but I’m gonna tell them they gotta find another cartwright.”

“But why?”

“It’s been on my mind for a while. Quitting, that is. Just cuz it’s my dream doesn’t mean I’m the man for the job, and I’d rather get outta the game before I get someone else hurt. So thanks, but no thanks.”

The cartwright gave the boys one last weak smile before walking away. Kirishima stood speechless, until he realized that his own failed pep talk had driven the cartwright to this drastic decision.

“I need to work on my speeches!” he cried, punching himself in the arm and leaving Amajiki to catch the can of juice that went flying.

“That wasn’t the takeaway I wanted! Stay put, Amajiki—I’ll be right back!”

“Still hoping to convince the guy?” asked Amajiki. “He’s not in a place where your words will reach him right now …”

“I still gotta try!”

“Listen, if he’s gonna take that next step, he’s got to find the conviction himself. Giving someone an encouraging push from behind is a nice sentiment, but unless they’re prepared to start marching forward, you’ll just end up knocking them flat on their face.”

Though his words might have sounded cold, Amajiki cast his gaze down almost apologetically.

Kirishima understood what his friend was saying—that the heart had to change before the body could act—but the thought of leaving well enough alone set his teeth on edge. After all, he still hadn’t quite overcome that moment of fear in his past.

“Ugh, I just gotta!” he said, but before Kirishima could start running, Fat Gum’s voice came through on the boys’ earpieces.

“Tamaki, Kirishima, hurry on over to police headquarters! We got us a sitch!”

About half an hour later, Kirishima and Amajiki were back on patrol, but this time they were clad in festival-appropriate happi coats of their own. With his muscled body boldly exposed, Kirishima was ready to blend in to the crowd like any other ordinary festivalgoer there to rep their hometown. Amajiki, on the other hand, wore his lack of confidence on his happi sleeves; his hunched posture meshed poorly with his festival attire and made him seem wildly out of place.

Hero costumes weren’t an option, though, since the police had informed them that a villain suspected of bank robbery had come to town for the float festival. The mission: to go undercover and search for the robber amid the hubbub. Fat Gum’s massive frame gave him away no matter his garb, so he would be off patrolling on his own for the time being.

“This doesn’t feel right for me …” said Amajiki.

“Just cheer up, put on a happy face, and that happi’ll suit you just fine!” said Kirishima.

“‘Cheer up,’ huh? Easier said than done …”

The boys heard a raucous cheer from a few blocks away. The thunderous roar of the crowd, animated shouting, and accompanying music were all drawing closer.

“The float parade must be starting,” said Amajiki, but before Kirishima could respond, the float that was earning those cheers zoomed past the two boys. It was a big one, with about a dozen men riding on all sides. The cartwright on the roof bounced along to the music and shouted directions, while the others were responsible for breaking, steering, or banging on bells and taiko drums. On the ground, several dozen men were either pulling the float from the front or pushing it from the back. Trailing behind the float were fellow revelers from the same hometown, running and whooping. With their sheer energy, the whole squad and the float itself seemed to meld and transform into an enormous runaway beast.

“Lookit them go!” cried Kirishima.

Another twenty or so floats whizzed by, each one whipping the crowd into more of a mad frenzy and adding to the don’t-blink-or-you’ll-miss-it spectacle of it all. Leading the charge and looking down on the audience from up high were the cartwrights. Kirishima realized he might’ve gone for that job, if he’d been born in these parts.

“Hrm.”

He remembered Ei the cartwright and grimaced.

“Let’s keep moving,” said Amajiki, forcing Kirishima to buck up. Whether they saw action or not, the boys were already on the job as heroes in training.

“Average height, average weight, plain face …” said Kirishima, going over the intel they’d received on the bank robber. “No distinguishing features at all, really … Finding this dude in the crowd could be tough!”

The official start of the parade only drew more onlookers, to the point that even snaking through the crowd was now a challenge.

“What kind of wanted criminal shows up at a festival? This guy must really have a thing for these floats,” said Amajiki, already getting fed up. The intel did indeed suggest that the villain they were after was fond of the float festival.

“I kinda get it, though! This is like nothing else! Hmm? Where’re you headed, Amajiki?”

“Let’s just split up,” suggested Amajiki as the ebb and flow of the crowd yanked him away from Kirishima. The latter nodded and turned to move in the other direction while scanning the faces.

“You got some nerve, guy! Who goes around bumping into people and doesn’t even say sorry?”

A woman was shouting.

“Wasn’t on purpose, idiot!”

A man spat back.

The voices were close by, so Kirishima wove through the crowd while apologizing. The task at hand was finding a wanted criminal, but handling smaller disputes was still part of the job description.

“Look—takoyaki sauce all over my top!”

“Not my problem, lady. I’m risking everything to see these damn floats, so just buzz off!”

“How dare you! Somebody, call for a hero!”

“Right here, ma’am!” said Kirishima. “What seems to be the problem?”

As he approached the pair, the older man who’d been arguing with the young woman whipped around.

“No problem here, kid, so get outta my face!”

Average height, average weight, no distinguishing features.

“You’re a wanted villain!” shouted Kirishima before he could stop himself. The man’s face seemed to cloud over, and a thick layer of gelatin suddenly coated his entire body. Kirishima was already midlunge, but the gelatinous man slipped right through his hands and started bouncing away, over the heads of the crowd.

“Dude’s got a jellifying Quirk!”

In a panic, Kirishima requested backup from Amajiki and Fat Gum and shoved past the crowd into the street itself, where he started chasing down the jellied villain.

“Surrender, you!”

“Ugh … You wanna play hardball?”

“Eek!”

The cry came from Ken—the boy injured by Ei’s float the previous year—who had now become the unfortunate hostage of the runaway villain. Before Kirishima could react, the villain shoved Ken into his own layer of gelatin and pointed a knife at the boy’s stomach.

“One more step, and the kid gets it in the gut!”

Ken’s mother and the nearby onlookers started screaming. Behind this group in the street, an approaching float managed to slow down and stop.

“Oh no … Is that Ken?” came the dumbfounded voice of Ei the cartwright, who had convinced one of his squad mates to take his place on the roof and was now riding at the back, on a lower level.

Ken himself flew into a panic and began squirming like mad.

“Sit still, brat! And, you—hero—if you want this kid to live to see tomorrow, you’re gonna back the hell off!”

Once again, the jellied villain bounced into the air and starting tumbling through the crowd at top speed.

“Damn it!” cursed Kirishima, ignoring the villain’s warning and taking off in pursuit without a second thought.

“A villain?”

“He’s got a knife!”

“Some sorta maniac!

Panic spread through the crowd like wildfire, and before anyone knew it, the road was full of stampeding festivalgoers and floats alike. The villain was getting away, but Kirishima’s path was blocked.

“Scuse me, folks! Could everyone just calm down and let me through?”

Though shouting at the top of his lungs, Kirishima couldn’t cut through the madness of the mob, and within moments, the escaping villain had vanished from sight.

“Crud, what now?” he said, his face contorting in frustration.

“Hey! Hero! The villain’s headed thataway!”

Legs still trembling, Ei the cartwright had climbed back onto the roof, putting the vantage point to good use. Kirishima heard the cartwright and struggled through the crowd to reach the float, where he bowed to Ei’s panicked team and made his request.

“Please help me out, guys! We gotta save that little kid!”

Kirishima knew they had to act, and with the young cartwright scanning up top and him riding shotgun, they might figure out a way to chase down the villain.

“We just gotta clear a path somehow, right?” said Ei, reading Kirishima’s thoughts and thinking a step ahead. Without waiting for an answer, he took a deep breath and belted out orders to the crowd.

“You sorry bunch! Is this what Osakans are made of? If you’re here to see the floats, then clear the damn road! That kid’s life depends on it!”

Ei’s roar echoed through the street, and the milling mob froze in place. Inspired by their young leader’s daring act, the squad mates picked up their ropes and began urging people out of the way.

“Please, hero! Save that kid for me!” implored Ei once Kirishima had made it up to the roof. Shocked by this outpouring of help, Kirishima put a hand on Ei’s shoulder, lifting his head from a deep bow.

“We’re gonna save him together!”

With newfound reassurance and a solid ally at his side, Ei nodded, picked up his fans, and started shouting orders. The interim cartwright clapped Ei on the back before descending to a lower level, and the rope pullers finished their preparations, cried “Heave ho!” in unison, and started marching. Responding to the beat of the music and the float’s powerful presence, the crowd parted like the Red Sea before Moses.

Ei the cartwright was a man in his element, leading the charge. His squad mates grinned to see him back in action, and someone shouted, “We knew you had what it takes to be on top, Little Ei!” To have power on top, after all, you had to have good support from those down below.

While Ei kept his sights set on the runaway villain and made sure the speeding float was pointed in the right direction, Kirishima struggled to maintain his balance and fed updates to Fat Gum and Amajiki.

“Roger that, kid,” said Fat over the comms piece.

“We hear you. But where are you right now, Kirishima?” asked Amajiki.

“Up on the float!”

“Say what?” said Fat Gum. “When’d you go native on us?”

The float flew around a curve without slowing down a beat. The handlers knew this city like the backs of their hands, and its winding streets weren’t about to keep them from the escaping villain.

“I said, keep back!”

The villain was nearly in reach, but he once again had the knife pointed at Ken.

A moment’s hesitation, and all could be lost.

Kirishima knew that, so he dove toward the villain from atop the still-moving float, activated his Hardening in midair, and stole back the boy. The villain’s knife connected, but instead of tearing into flesh, it glanced off the hardened skin of Kirishima’s back and bounced away.

With his hostage lost, the villain applied another layer of gelatin and turned to make his getaway.

“Not so fast,” murmured Amajiki, glaring at the villain.

The hero in training whipped out an arm resembling a squid tentacle—suckers and all—stretchy enough to reach the villain and strong enough to cut through the gelatin and bind him head to toe.

“Amajiki!”

But Kirishima wasn’t able to admire his fellow mentee’s handiwork for long.

“Watch out, hero!” cried Ei the cartwright. Kirishima turned to see the float barreling toward him. The emergency break took hold just in time, but the sudden stop rocked the float off balance and sent it listing forward.

Kirishima wrapped his hardened body around little Ken, prepared to take the hit, but the “crunch” he expected never came. Instead, he heard a much softer “fwump.”

“Fat!”

Fat Gum’s considerable heft had stopped the falling float.

“I keep making a habit of showing up late to the party, huh! Everyone okay?”

Kirishima checked Ken for bumps and bruises before saying, “Yup.”

“Thanks!” said Ken, before dashing over to Ei the cartwright.

“You were so cool up there doing all that, Mister Ei! I wanna be a cartwright just like you someday!”

The cartwright’s expression softened, and then the man fell to pieces, happier than words could express.

“Check it out, boys! Little Ei’s crying his eyes out!” teased one of his squad mates, while the others looked on with wide smiles.

“Yeah, but only cuz your stench is stinging my eyes! You guys need a bath after all that running, yeesh!” shot back Ei, before turning to Kirishima.

“It was just like you said, hero—I couldn’t let myself set such a bad example for this little guy.”

“Hell yeah! You were supercool out there!” said Kirishima.

Ei the cartwright grinned, and Kirishima flashed him a trademark thumbs-up.

With the villain in police custody and the chaos quelled, the festival was back on and Fat Gum and his two mentees were once again patrolling the street.

“Well, ain’t that a story and a half,” said the hero, after Kirishima filled him in on the earlier events as well as his own past failure.

“Listen, there are folks out there who got what it takes to dive into danger,” continued Fat, “and others who don’t. Just how it is, and it ain’t our place to hold it against ‘em.”

“But …”

Kirishima wasn’t quite ready to accept that that was “just how it was” sometimes, but Fat Gum read the boy’s frustrated expression loud and clear.

“You wanted to act, but you couldn’t, right?” said the hero, looking as serious as ever. “But clocks ain’t made to be turned back, and all we can do is continue moving forward. You keep holding on to those regrets though, y’hear me, Kirishima? That ain’t a bad thing.”

“Yes, sir.”

“It’s your job not to forget how you felt back then, when you were feeling all pathetic, or scared, or weak, cuz that’s your starting point. Your foundation. How’re you gonna take the next step without a foundation, huh? There’s no fooling yourself into being better than you are, not really. The guys who can get away with acting tough know they’re tough, deep down.”

As Kirishima digested his mentor’s message, the roar of the crowd and jaunty music announced the coming of Ei the cartwright’s float. As it passed by, Kirishima saw the proud face of a man who’d managed to take that next, essential step. A man whose legs were no longer trembling.

“Yes, sir!”

The look on Ei’s face had given Kirishima the courage he needed to take his own next step. Just like Ashido. And just like that other, unnamed boy he’d seen on the news.

Maybe the other boy was hoping to be a hero too, and maybe Kirishima would cross paths with him someday. If and when that day ever came, Kirishima wanted to be proud of the man he’d become.

Little did he know that he and that very boy were already classmates.