My Mangekyo Sharingan Can't Save My Hero Academia: 18 U.A Staff

[U.A. HIGH SCHOOL – CLASS 1-A – 12:35 PM]

The lunch bell rang.

Immediately, the classroom erupted into motion.

Students stretched, grabbed lunch boxes, complained about morning classes.

Midoriya stood up, adjusting his bag.

"Iida, Uraraka, you coming to lunch?"

Iida was already halfway to the door, arms chopping mechanically.

"Of course! Proper nutrition is essential for afternoon performance!"

Uraraka started to stand—then paused.

Mina and Momo were huddled around Toru's desk.

Whispering.

Toru's sleeves were gripping the edge of her desk.

Uraraka blinked.

"Uh… I'll catch up with you guys. We have a… situation."

Midoriya followed her gaze.

"Is Hagakure okay?"

"I think so? Maybe?"

She walked over.

By the time she got there, Mina was mid-negotiation.

"Toru. Come on. It's just lunch."

"I know."

"So let's go."

"…Do we have to?"

Momo sighed.

"Yes. You need to eat."

"I brought a granola bar."

"That's not a meal."

"It's food."

Mina crouched beside the desk.

"Okay, what's going on? You were fine this morning."

Toru's sleeves fidgeted.

"I was not fine this morning."

"You came to class."

"Under duress."

Uraraka tilted her head.

"Are you still worried about that guy?"

Toru's sleeves stiffened.

"…Maybe."

"Toru—"

"Look, I know it sounds ridiculous—"

"It does," Momo said bluntly.

"—but two things have hit me in the head in two days. Both times, same guy. That's not normal."

Asui, sitting nearby, raised a hand.

"Statistically unlikely. Ribbit."

"THANK YOU."

Mina stood up, hands on her hips.

"Okay. Real talk. Do you actually think he's targeting you?"

"…No."

"Do you think he's dangerous?"

"No."

"Then what's the problem?"

Toru's sleeves gestured vaguely.

"I just… don't want to be in the splash zone when something else happens."

Momo pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Toru, that's not how probability works."

"Maybe not, but it's how my luck works."

Mina exchanged a glance with Momo.

Then she sighed.

"Fine. New plan."

"What plan?"

"I'll return the book. You stay here if you want."

Toru's sleeves perked up.

"Really?"

"Yeah. But you're coming to lunch tomorrow. No excuses."

"…Deal."

Momo frowned.

"Are you sure? We were supposed to—"

"Momo, look at her. She's not moving."

Momo glanced at Toru.

Toru's sleeves gave a small wave.

Momo sighed.

"…Fine. But this is the last time."

"Agreed," Toru said quickly.

Mina grabbed the textbook from her desk.

"Alright. Anyone else coming?"

Uraraka stood.

"I'll come."

Asui nodded.

"Me too. Ribbit."

Momo hesitated, then stood as well.

"Fine."

The four of them headed toward the door.

Toru called out:

"If he asks who returned it, don't say my name."

Mina didn't turn around.

"He's not gonna ask."

"You don't know that."

The door slid shut.

Toru sat alone at her desk, pulling out her granola bar.

"…This is fine. This is totally fine."

She unwrapped it.

"Tomorrow I'll be normal. Probably."

She took a bite.

"…Maybe I should bring two granola bars tomorrow."

[CAFETERIA – 12:47 PM]

The cafeteria was packed.

Students from all courses crammed into tables, voices overlapping into a dull roar.

Mina scanned the room, textbook tucked under her arm.

"Okay. So. Where does General Studies sit?"

Momo pointed toward the far left section.

"Over there. Gray badges."

"Got it."

They wove through the tables, dodging trays and backpacks.

Mina's eyes scanned faces.

Red hair. Red hair. Where's the red hair—

"There!" Uraraka pointed.

A table in the corner.

Three students.

No red hair.

Mina frowned.

"…That's not him."

"Maybe he's not here?" Asui suggested.

Momo squinted.

"Wait. I recognize them."

"From where?"

"The tray incident."

Mina's eyes lit up.

"Oh! You're right!"

She walked over.

The three students looked up as she approached.

A girl with flowers growing from her hair—Hana.

A boy with color-shifting skin—Kimura.

Another boy with glasses—Tanaka.

Mina smiled.

"Hey! Uh, sorry to bother you guys."

Hana blinked.

"…Oh. You're from Hero Course, right?"

"Yep! Mina Ashido." She gestured to the others. "This is Yaoyorozu, Uraraka, and Asui."

Polite nods all around.

Kimura leaned back.

"If this is about the tray thing, that wasn't our fault."

"Oh, no, we know. Actually, we're looking for someone."

Tanaka adjusted his glasses.

"Who?"

Mina held up the textbook.

"This belong to someone named Yuta Akutami?"

All three of them froze.

Then Hana grinned.

"…Oh man. What did he do now?"

Mina blinked.

'So it's him huh?'

"Uh. Nothing? We just need to ..."

"... Need to return his book." Momo finished.

"His book," Kimura repeated.

"Yeah."

"That he lost."

"…Yeah?"

Tanaka muttered, "Of course he did."

Momo stepped forward.

"Is he here?"

Hana shook her head.

"Nope. Got called out right before lunch."

"Called out?" Uraraka asked. "By who?"

"Administration, I think."

Mina's eyebrows rose.

"…Is he in trouble?"

Kimura snorted.

"Probably."

Tanaka nodded.

"Definitely."

"Yep. And now he's probably getting lectured as well speak."

Mina stared at the textbook.

Then at Hana.

Then back at the book.

"…Huh." Momo cleared her throat. "Well. When he gets back, could you give this to him?"

She handed the textbook to Hana.

Hana took it, flipping it open.

"Yeah, no problem."

"Thanks."

Mina turned to leave—then paused.

"Hey, uh. Is he… you know. Nice?"

Hana blinked.

"Yuta?"

"Yeah."

Hana thought about it.

"…He's fine. Quiet. Keeps to himself mostly."

Mina nodded slowly.

"…Cool. Thanks again."

"No problem."

The four girls walked away.

Once they were out of earshot, Uraraka whispered:

"…That was him?"

Momo nodded.

"Apparently. They're the same guy."

Asui tilted her head.

"He didn't seem like the type. Ribbit."

Mina grinned.

"That's what makes it funny."

Uraraka glanced back toward the General Studies table.

"Should we tell Toru?"

Mina considered it.

"…Nah. Let her have her granola bar in peace."

___

[PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE – 12:50 PM]

Yuta sat stiffly in the small visitor’s chair, backpack half-sliding off his lap. The room felt too warm, or maybe that was just him.

Across from him, Nezu perched on the corner of his desk like he owned the building—which, technically, he did. Midnight leaned against the wall, one boot tapping absently. Aizawa sat in the far chair like he’d been dragged here against his will.

Mrs. Nakamura stood near the door. No one said anything for a few seconds.

Nezu finally broke the silence. “Mr. Akutami. Busy evening?”

Yuta swallowed. “…It wasn’t planned.”

“Mm.” Nezu’s ears twitched. “You intervened in a villain attack.”

“Uh—yeah.”

“And Sentinel credits you with saving his life.”

“I guess.”

“And the villain ended up… incapacitated.”

“That sounds accurate.”

“With a manhole cover.”

Yuta’s shoulders hunched a little. “I didn’t bring it with me, if that helps.”

Midnight made a soft noise—half laugh, half sigh. Aizawa’s eyelid twitched like he was fighting a headache. Mrs. Nakamura drank her coffee like she regretted coming to work today.

Nezu laced his paws together. “Do you know why you’re here, Akutami?”

“Because… the video blew up?” Yuta offered. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“That’s part of it,” Mrs. Nakamura said without much enthusiasm..

“And,you used a chunk of city property as an improvised weapon.” Midnight added. “There's also the matter of possible illegal quirk use, but according to the Pro hero on sight, you didn't use any quirks.”

Aizawa chimed in at last, eyes narrowing slightly.

Yuta winced. “…Right.”

Nezu shook his head. “Those are logistical concerns. Not the core issue.”

Yuta blinked at him. “…Which is?”

Nezu hopped lightly off the desk and paced a slow circle, thinking. “You didn’t freeze. Most civilians—and certainly most students—would’ve panicked. You didn’t.”

Yuta felt the back of his neck warm. “Someone was about to die. I just reacted.”

There was no way he was going to tell them that he just had a bad night and urgently needed to vent.

“That,” Nezu said, “is precisely why you’re not in serious trouble.”

Midnight crossed her arms tighter. “But you are in trouble. In a procedural sense. We can’t just shrug this off.”

“Self-defense applies,” Aizawa said with a tired wave. “The villain’s record doesn’t help his case.”

Mrs. Nakamura cut in, “But you’re a minor, and the media is going to chew on this for days. That’s… messy.”

Yuta looked down. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Relax,” Midnight said, sounding almost sympathetic. “It’s not that kind of meeting.”

Nezu returned to his desk. “You’re getting consequences, Akutami, but not punishments.”

Yuta braced himself. “Okay. What kind?”

“Ethics seminar,” Aizawa said. “Two hours. Saturday morning.”

Yuta grimaced. “…Alright.”

“A written apology to the Hero Public Safety Commission,” Mrs. Nakamura added.

He blinked. “An apology letter? To the Commission? For… not dying?”

“Don’t argue,” she said, rubbing her temple. “They like their paperwork.”

“And,” Midnight added, pointing at him, “no interviews. No comments. No reporters. Pretend they’re radioactive.”

“I wasn’t planning on talking to anyone,” Yuta muttered.

“Good,” she said.

Nezu clasped his paws again. “Consider this a warning and a compliment. You acted bravely. But you’re not trained for frontline situations, and we can’t encourage vigilante behavior.”

“I get it,” Yuta said quietly. “I do.”

Nezu nodded. “Then you’re free to go.”

As Yuta stood, he hesitated.

“…Um. One more thing.”

Nezu looked up. “Yes, Akutami?”

Yuta shifted awkwardly. “Is there… a place I can train? For the Sports Festival, I mean. I don’t want to, uh, break anything again. Or hit anyone. Or get expelled.”

Midnight raised an eyebrow. “You thought you didn’t have access?”

“…General Studies isn’t Hero Course,” Yuta said. “I figured most of the equipment was off-limits.”

Aizawa gave him a tired stare. “Why would it be off-limits?”

“I don’t know. Priority? Budget? Space?” He scratched his cheek. “I saw Iida and Bakugo training outside and thought—never mind, maybe it was a stupid question.”

Nezu’s ears perked.

“Akutami, U.A. is the largest hero academy in Japan. We have more gyms than some military bases.”

Yuta blinked.

“You are welcome to use any general training facility,” Nezu continued. “Weights, treadmills, endurance rooms, open fields—everything not specifically marked for Quirk testing or Hero Course drills.”

Midnight added, “As long as you don’t blow anything up, you’re golden.”

“There are even sign-up sheets if you want a reserved slot,” Mrs. Nakamura said.

Aizawa shrugged. “If you want to train, train. Just don’t do anything that makes my paperwork worse.”

Yuta stared at all of them.

“Oh,” he said weakly. “Right. That makes sense.”

Nezu gave a small, amused smile.

“You assumed far too much. U.A. encourages physical development for all departments. The Sports Festival is designed for precisely that.”

“…Okay,” Yuta said. “Okay. I just—thought it’d be restricted.”

Midnight smirked. “Trust me. If we restricted gyms to the Hero Course, you’d hear the riots from across campus.”

Yuta rubbed the back of his neck, mortified.

“…I feel really stupid now.”

“That is normal,” Aizawa said flatly.

Nezu clasped his paws.

“Use the facilities responsibly. If you require help, ask a teacher. We’d rather guide you than discipline you.”

“Understood,” Yuta said quickly.

This time, when he reached the door, he genuinely meant it.

“Akutami?”

He paused. “Yes, sir?”

“If you find yourself in another life-or-death situation…” Nezu tilted his head. “Try not to hand the media a spectacle next time.”

Yuta exhaled through his nose. “I’ll try.”

He stepped out and closed the door behind him.

Inside, the room went quiet for a beat.

Midnight let out a long breath and pushed off the wall. “He’s sharper than he looks.”

Aizawa rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I don’t have the energy to dislike him properly.”

Mrs. Nakamura took another drink. “Kid’s going to give someone a migraine this year.”

Nezu watched the hallway through the window in his door, thoughtful. “Yes,” he murmured. “But he’s interesting. Those usually turn out well… or catastrophically.”