The polished steel walls reflected Reiji's figure in a slightly distorted way, barely warping his features under the white light from the ceiling. He stood observing himself for a few seconds as the faint chanical hum accompanied the descent to the lower levels of the building.
The elevator finally stopped.
The doors opened with a soft click.
The corridor on the other side was exactly as cold as ever. White. Clinical. Silent. It didn't feel like a governnt office. It felt like a dical facility too clean to feel human.
The eting room awaited him at the end.
Reiji walked slowly.
And when he entered, the atmosphere imdiately felt heavier.
Three figures watched him from the opposite end of the oval table. None of them seed particularly agitated, but that was precisely what was so unsettling about the Commission. They never needed to raise their voices to exert pressure.
The director remained seated in the center, wearing her usual impeccable gray suit. To his right sat the stony-faced old man who rarely spoke more than necessary. To his left, the younger man reviewed a file filled with printed photographs of the incident that had occurred days earlier.
Photographs of him.
On national television.
"Reiji Toga," the director's voice finally broke the silence. "Take a seat."
He obeyed without replying.
The file slowly opened on the table.
Several images were revealed.
The villain.
Bakugo.
The blood prison.
And him in the middle of it all.
"Your actions could have exposed an entire covert intelligence operation," she continued with absolute calm. "Your face was broadcast on seventeen national and three international channels. The press is actively tracking your identity, and multiple hero agencies have already requested information about you."
The younger man slid another photograph onto the table.
An exact capture of the mont when Reiji had subdued the villain in front of everyone.
"You rescued a student," he said this ti. "And at the sa ti, you almost jeopardized years of quiet work."
The silence lasted a few seconds.
Reiji nodded just once.
"I accept the consequences."
The old man finally spoke for the first ti.
"And what exactly do you think they should be?"
The question didn't sound aggressive.
It sounded real.
As if they had actually discussed options before bringing him there.
Reiji slowly looked up at the three of them.
"I didn't co here to justify myself," he finally replied. "I did it because it was necessary."
"Necessary," the young man repeated with a small, dry smile. "Interesting word."
"I could have let him die," Reiji continued, ignoring him. "But losing a student like that would have been worse for everyone."
The headmistress slowly clasped her hands on the table.
"Your current situation is untenable," she finally said. "We can't continue using you as an undercover agent under these conditions. You're no longer invisible. And worse, you've started attracting too much attention."
That was the real problem.
Not the caras.
Not the reporters.
Not even public opinion.
It was who might be watching now.
Reiji knew it perfectly well.
And so did they.
"We considered removing you completely," the old man continued. "Even relocating you."
"It wouldn't work," Reiji replied imdiately.
The young man barely raised an eyebrow.
"Are you so sure?"
"Too many people have already seen . Too many people have already connected to the incident." His voice remained steady, but it no longer sounded as controlled as before. "And if the drug situation really escalates, you'll still need soone here in Musutafu..."
The young man exhaled sharply.
"Here we go."
"Are you still going on about that ridiculous theory?" he asked, leaning back in his chair. "Now you're going to tell us that everything is connected to U.A. too?"
"I didn't say that."
"You hinted at it in your report."
Because he had.
He had.
A desperate way to lend more weight to the investigation.
Reiji held his gaze without backing down.
"Drugs appeared near Musutafu. Incidents increased around areas linked to the Hero System, and several related nas end up indirectly orbiting around U.A. or its vicinity," he explained slowly. "I'm not saying the academy is involved. I'm saying sothing is happening near it."
"Based on intuition," the young man interrupted imdiately. "Not on evidence."
"Based on patterns."
"Patterns constructed by a teenager obsessed with an investigation that officially isn't even his responsibility."
The blow was direct.
The principal remained silent, observing Reiji for several seconds before finally speaking again.
"You're probably looking for an excuse."
Reiji frowned slightly.
"An excuse?"
"To get into U.A."
Silence returned imdiately.
Because they had finally arrived at the true heart of the matter.
The Commission had never originally planned to send him there.
U.A. was too visible.
Too much in the dia spotlight.
Too unpredictable.
The plan had always been sothing much more controlled. A smaller academy. More discreet. Exactly like what they had done years ago with Hawks before turning him into a public asset.
But now…
that wasn't so simple anymore.
Because Reiji had just appeared before half of Japan saving a single person, soone even professional heroes hesitated to save.
The young man reopened the file.
"You can't be an invisible agent anymore," he murmured as he reviewed several docunts. "And honestly, after today, we probably won't be able to completely control what kind of attention you attract either."
"That's precisely my point," Reiji finally replied. "Then let in where it really matters."
The three of them barely glanced up at him.
And this ti…
the atmosphere did change.
Because it no longer sounded like an impulsive suggestion.
It sounded like a decision.
"I'll enroll at U.A.," Reiji continued slowly. "No recomndations. No shortcuts. Just like any other student."
"And why exactly should we allow that?" the old man asked.
"Because I can no longer be useful in hiding."
The answer ca quickly.
The principal stared at him.
"Go on."
Reiji took a slow breath before continuing.
"U.A. cultivates future heroes, future connections, future public figures," he explained, his voice steady. "If I can get in there, I can beco sothing far more useful to you than just an undercover agent. i Hatsu could be just one of the many opportunities that place offers."
Using i's image without her consent was sothing he didn't agree with, but given his options against the imposing power of the organization that had tried to control his life since childhood, it was a price worth paying.
The young man smiled slightly.
"There it is."
"What?"
"The real reason."
The man's gaze sharpened slightly.
"You're not proposing this solely for strategic reasons," he said directly. "You want independence."
The phrase struck the very heart of the matter.
And the ensuing silence practically confird the answer.
Because yes.
Of course he wanted independence.
He wanted to get away from them.
He wanted to stop being just a tool.
He wanted to breathe, even just a little, outside that cage.
But saying it directly would be suicide.
Then Reiji answered the only thing he could.
"I can't disappear now."
The director kept her gaze fixed on him for several long seconds.
"That didn't really answer the question."
Reiji didn't answer this ti either.
The old man finally let out a small sigh.
"The truth is, we can't apply Nagant's thod either," he murmured wearily. "Whether we like it or not."
The young man didn't contradict that.
Because it was also true.
Reiji knew too much; he had been involved in various intelligence gathering operations, sanctioned fights, raids, and so on, but most importantly... He hadn't taken a life, he hadn't murdered anyone, and his hands were still clean.
Even if that weren't the case, there would still be no way to prove it. Not one that wouldn't leave them in a worse position.
It was a relationship built on mutual dependence.
An extrely dangerous one.
Finally, after several seconds of absolute silence, the director slowly closed the file in front of her.
"Then in ten months..." she finally said. "Reiji Toga will be authorized to take the U.A. entrance exam."
Reiji didn't react imdiately.
"No recomndations," he added. "No special treatnt."
The young man let out a small, dry laugh.
"Do you want to feel like you earned it all on your own?"
"No," Reiji replied, looking directly at him. "Getting in through special treatnt ans I steal a spot from the scholarship recipients. By entering through the conventional thod, I make less noise and only eliminate soone of little worth..."
That response did generate real silence.
The director finally nodded slightly.
"Make good use of these ten months," she said as she slowly filed away the file. "You are temporarily off active duty. Live as you wish for now."
And then she added, much colder:
"But never forget who allowed you to do this."
The sentence hit hard.
Much harder than any direct threat.
Reiji stood up slowly.
His posture remained impeccable.
Controlled.
But the weight of the conversation was already beginning to show, even on him.
He gave a slight bow before turning toward the door.
And just as he was about to leave…
the headmistress's voice stopped him again.
"And don't forget one more thing, Reiji."
He stopped.
He didn't turn around.
"You caused a huge problem today." The silence lasted barely a second. "And you got away with it completely, but one good turn deserves another..."
Then he replied in a low, firm voice:
"I won't forget it."
And he left.
Without looking back.
***
The principal's office had been closed to the rest of the campus for almost an hour.
It wasn't a routine faculty eting or an informal chat after class. The enormous central screen projected multiple recordings of the incident that had occurred days earlier in Musutafu, while different secondary windows displayed academic records, police reports, and preliminary analyses compiled directly by the U.A. administration.
Everything revolved around the sa na.
Reiji Toga.
The air slled of freshly brewed tea, old wood, and paper. Outside, the campus continued to function as usual. Students were returning to their dormitories, training sessions were ending, and teachers were wrapping up activities like any other day. But inside that office, the atmosphere was much heavier. Nezu didn't personally gather mbers of his inner circle out of re curiosity, and both Present Mic and Aizawa knew this perfectly well.
The principal sat behind his desk, watching the freeze-fra footage of the incident while a small kettle continued to release steam beside him. Present Mic rested on one of the sofas, though he looked considerably less relaxed than usual, and Aizawa remained leaning near a window with his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the recordings.
The conversation had been going on for so ti.
"Let's start from the beginning," Nezu finally said as he switched back to the main recording. "Officially, Reiji Toga is a junior high school student without a hero license, with an outstanding academic record and two Quirks registered under rather limited paraters."
The screen imdiately displayed the official file.
An impeccable academic record, with outstanding grades and near-perfect scores.
Two Quirks.
Short-range blood manipulation and moderate accelerated cell regeneration.
Incredibly vague descriptions of what they had seen.
"However…" Nezu continued, zooming in on a screenshot of the incident. "The level of control he displayed over both of his Quirks during the attack, which is already quite unusual, far exceeds what one would expect from soone of his age and claid experience."
Present Mic exhaled slowly, taking in the enormous amount of blood swirling around the villain.
"…Yeah, that definitely doesn't fall under 'moderate short range'"
Aizawa didn't take his eyes off the screen.
"It's not just the Quirk."
Nezu nodded slightly.
"You're right."
The recording played slowly. Reiji moved through rubble, dodging police officers, heroes, and concrete debris as he advanced toward the center of the conflict without losing his balance. Even under constant pressure, he continued to move with remarkable efficiency for soone who, on paper, had never received professional training.
"It doesn't exactly look like professional training. But it's not improvisation either. He maintains constant peripheral vision, uses movent to avoid slowing down, and never loses situational awareness even when the environnt prevents him from advancing."
Present Mic raised an eyebrow.
"A security guard, perhaps?"
"There are no reports of a security guard matching his description in Musutafu or the surrounding prefectures." Nezu dismissed the idea instantly. He had already reviewed every police report from the past few months and found no security guard matching his description.
Aizawa finally stepped away from the window.
"I've seen him before."
The office fell completely silent for a second.
"Where?" Nezu asked.
"Twice." Nezu remained completely silent, listening to the latest account from one of his best teachers. "The first ti was during the annual innovation project exhibition that the support team puts on for first-year students last year."
"Anything noteworthy?" Nezu continued to guide the conversation.
"He's... different," Aizawa remarked, recalling their encounter. "Most students completely change when they're around pro heroes. Nerves, admiration, anxiety, a need to impress... sothing. Not him. He maintained a constant emotional distance. He observed more than he spoke."
Present Mic rested an arm on the back of the sofa.
"That could also be personality."
"Yes, but it's not typical for a boy his age," Aizawa replied imdiately. "Besides, my second encounter with him was in a very different context."
Nezu perked up his ears to take everything in perfectly, and Present Mic also remained silent.
"I was patrolling in the early morning, finishing my shift, when I finally heard a girl scream in the distance... It took a couple of minutes to get there, but by the ti I arrived, the situation was already under control." Aizawa glanced at one of Reiji's photos. "There he was, having restrained a trio of drunks who were trying to assault the girl. He claid he had insomnia due to his regeneration and had gone outside for so fresh air."
Present Mic slowly lowered the relaxed posture he had maintained until that mont.
"And you let him go?"
"He didn't pose a threat. Just like this ti, he took responsibility for his actions and understood the gravity of what happened. Because of his history with Himiko Toga, I decided to let him go."
The ntion of Himiko made Nezu imdiately shift the conversation to another file projected on the screen.
Himiko Toga.
The images began to slowly unfold before them. Academic grades, physical evaluations, training records, and combat simulations. Everything showed the exact sa pattern for the past few days.
A steady climb.
Present Mic was the first to lean forward slightly.
"...Wait."
He stared at the data for a few seconds before speaking again.
"This started right after her brother had that accident."
Nezu nodded slowly.
"Himiko Toga had been consistently performing at U.A. standards for months. An average student with great social skills," he explained. "Good natural abilities, but poor academic consistency and irregular training—not uncommon in a student without true motivation."
Aizawa crossed his arms again as he looked at the graphs.
"Now she's improving fast... Too fast."
"Not just fast," Present Mic corrected as he continued reading. "She's actively training with a goal."
And he was probably the one who could best notice that change. Present Mic constantly shared activities with general studies students and had been observing Himiko's behavior within the academy for so ti.
"She's been constantly ntioning the upcoming Sports Festival for days now," Present Mic continued. "And I've also heard several tis about her getting promoted to the hero course."
Aizawa barely glanced up at him.
"Do you think he's influencing that?"
"It doesn't seem like negative pressure," Present Mic replied honestly. "In fact… I'd say it's the opposite. In all my years at this academy, I've never seen a second-year general studies student display such… absurd talent."
Nezu kept his gaze fixed on the graphs for a few more seconds before swiping another file onto the main screen.
This ti, it wasn't Himiko.
It was i Hatsu.
Present Mic chuckled as soon as he saw the na.
"Ah… right. 'Power's protégé.'"
There was no disdain in his words; that's just what they called her at the academy. Technically, Hatsu wasn't a student yet, but thanks to Power Loader, she'd been granted access to the technical area well in advance.
A special permit for a brilliant mind.
Aizawa frowned slightly as he observed the newly projected data. Reiji presented multiple logs of visits to i's workshop.
"The relationship between the two of them began several months ago," Nezu explained as he reviewed the reports. "Initially, it seed like a simple technical collaboration after the support presentation."
"That's anything but simple when it cos to Hatsu," Present Mic muttered.
i Hatsu didn't really collaborate with people who weren't useful to her. Even outside of Power Loader, she didn't talk much to people unless they asked her for things or visited her workshop.
She was too obsessive about her work to waste ti.
"The interesting thing isn't just the contact," Nezu continued. "It's the frequency; it seems she's the one inciting him to co, not the other way around."
The screen showed Reiji constantly entering the support workshops.
Long hours inside laboratories.
And erging later with his clothes cut, burned, or covered in dirt.
Special requests approved directly by Power Loader.
"She practically adopted him as a guinea pig," Present Mic comnted while reviewing so technical reports. "And Power Loader seems to have allowed it."
Aizawa looked at so of the open reports.
"Power Loader submitted a rather interesting evaluation two weeks ago, just a few days before the accident," Nezu said, opening another docunt. "It describes Reiji as 'extrely compatible with advanced technical developnt environnts' and 'a good assistant in technical areas.'"
Present Mic raised an eyebrow.
"That sounds ridiculously specific."
"He is," Nezu admitted. "According to Hatsu, he grasps complex technical instructions incredibly quickly and also contributes practical solutions during developnt."
Aizawa barely glanced at the screen where Reiji's image from the incident remained frozen.
So it wasn't just combat.
Or just academic intelligence.
He also understood advanced technology well enough to actively work alongside i Hatsu.
And that made the whole picture even stranger.
Because he no longer seed like just a gifted teenager.
"So we have a student who is academically brilliant, physically fit, emotionally reserved, and seemingly quite competent at handling critical situations," Nezu slowly listed. "In addition to a direct positive influence on two outstanding students this year."
The sentence brought a brief silence to the office.
Because that mattered too.
"His profile fits too well with what we're looking for."
The sentence finally made Aizawa look away from the screen.
Because he imdiately understood where the whole conversation was headed.
"Do you want to recruit him?"
Nezu tilted his head slightly.
"Shouldn't we?"
Aizawa hesitated for a mont.
"He doesn't really feel like a threat."
"He's been in the shadows for years. And now he's stepping up in front of witnesses to save a kid amidst multiple heroes," Nezu finally reasoned. "It was impulsive. You can see in a previous recording his frustration with the local heroes' actions... He has ideals of heroism, that's also a good sign."
Nezu returned to his desk.
"If he decides to join... he can. There's no reason to stop him. He has the age, the skills, and now the public eye. U.A. would be the perfect place, especially since so of his inner circle are here too."
Aizawa didn't respond imdiately. His gaze was fixed on the frozen image of the boy on the screen.
Present Mic also remained silent for a mont; he truly had no objection.
Nezu didn't hesitate.
"With All Might on the faculty, things are balanced. If that kid is looking for more than just learning, he won't have it easy. But if he's aiming to beco a hero… then it will be interesting to see what that ans for soone like him."
***
The base remained shrouded in darkness and constant chanical noise.
The irregular sound of ventilators, hydraulic systems, and dical monitors slowly filled the air as various screens continued to replay the incident that had occurred days earlier in Musutafu.
Tomura Shigaraki remained slumped on the sofa in front of the main monitor, an artificial hand partially covering his face as he compulsively scratched the irritated skin on his neck. His eyes remained fixed on the recording of the blood-covered boy launching himself at the mud villain while heroes, police officers, and civilians watched from all sides.
"Disgusting..."
The voice ca out laden with genuine irritation.
The recording again showed Reiji advancing through smoke, blood, and rubble to save soone he didn't even know, while the dia narrated the scene as if they were witnessing the birth of a new symbol.
"An impressive act of heroism..."
"The young man risked his life to save another student..."
"Many already consider him an inspiration for the new generation..."
Tomura let out a small, dry laugh through gritted teeth.
"Inspiration?" he muttered, looking at the screen with disdain. "Look at that shit... It's tearing itself apart and they're acting like it's sothing beautiful."
The caras again showed civilians watching, fascinated.
Children smiling.
People talking excitedly.
And that was precisely what he hated most.
Kurogiri stood near another terminal reviewing police reports while listening to the obvious annoyance in the young man's voice.
"The public reaction was extrely positive," he comnted calmly. "The incident significantly raised the perception of safety for heroes."
Tomura clicked his tongue in annoyance.
"Sure," he spat, staring at the screen. "These idiots love feeling protected."
Tomura imdiately felt the urge to smash the screen.
Because he couldn't understand how they could admire sothing so absurd.
"It didn't even solve anything," he muttered with growing hatred. "Tomorrow another villain, another monster, or so other crap will appear, and they'll need soone to destroy themselves for them again."
Kurogiri barely glanced up at him.
"And yet, they still believe."
Tomura imdiately turned his gaze back to the recording.
That was precisely the part that bothered him the most.
Hope.
People's ridiculous faith.
The way in which a single heroic act was enough to make everyone imdiately forget how rotten the world really was.
All For One's figure appeared projected from another protected room. The transmission quality was poor, and the area behind him remained completely dark, but even so, the pressure he exuded still filled the entire room.
Tomura stopped scratching his neck almost reflexively.
"Master."
All For One didn't respond imdiately.
The recording continued playing in front of everyone as he silently observed Reiji's behavior for several seconds.
Then he spoke.
"What do you see?"
Tomura frowned slightly.
"...An idiot playing the hero."
His thoughts ca to him instantly.
"He gained nothing," Tomura continued, his irritation evident. "He didn't fix anything. He just made everyone feel comfortable again."
The ensuing silence lasted only a few seconds.
"Exactly."
Tomura barely looked up.
All For One's voice remained calm.
Too calm.
"Heroic society survives thanks to people like this," he explained slowly. "Not because they solve the real problems... but because they create the illusion that soone will."
Tomura felt disgusted.
Because he was beginning to understand exactly where this conversation was headed.
"All Might did the sa thing for years," All For One continued. "He convinced the entire world that as long as there was a symbol of peace, everything would be alright."
"But the problems never disappeared." All For One's voice grew slightly heavier. "Cri, corruption, inequality, neglect... it all continued to grow beneath that false tranquility."
Tomura remained silent.
Because he knew perfectly well that it was true.
He himself was proof of it.
A child destroyed by that society while the heroes continued smiling on television.
Kurogiri spoke again in his usual calm tone.
"The heroes uphold the structure," he comnted gently. "But figures like that boy embody sothing far more important."
Tomura slowly turned his gaze back to the screen.
"...Hope."
"Yes."
All For One's response was imdiate.
"People need to believe that soone will appear to save them," he explained slowly. "And the more genuine that sacrifice seems, the stronger that illusion becos."
Silence slowly returned to fill the room.
Tomura looked at Reiji's face on the screen again.
And the more he looked at it… the more it irritated him.
"Society is sick," All For One continued as dical machines continued to hum softly in the background. "But people like All Might… or that boy… they only mask the symptoms."
The image of the boy as a new symbol was enough to make Tomura resu his habit of scratching his neck.
"And as long as you continue to believe in symbols..." All For One murmured. "You will never truly confront the rot that sustains this world."
Tomura remained silent for a mont, the only sound in the room for a while being the constant tapping of his nails against his skin.
"So..." he murmured slowly as he resud scratching his neck vigorously. "Must we destroy the illusion first?"
All For One was silent for barely a second.
And then he replied:
"Everyone has different forms, freedom and desire manifest in different ways..." All For One shifted slightly in his chair, his presence becoming even more imposing. "But the only thing that matters is how you believe things to be. If your path is to destroy that illusion, I will support you."
The words landed heavily in the room. All For One had never encouraged Tomura's hatred; that would be... stupid. He needed Shigaraki himself to believe in his cause more than anyone else; his convictions had to be ingrained in his very being, and no matter what he did, he could never force it.
Tomura slowly turned his gaze back to the news.
The blood.
The caras.
The heroes.
The admiration.
And little by little… the hatred within him began to take a much clearer shape.
Because he was finally beginning to understand that he didn't just hate the heroes.
He hated the world that desperately needed to believe in them.
***
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Well, one more thing to add is that the translation might get worse from now on because my free trial is over.
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