Alex Yamamoto pressed their palms against their temples, trying to block out the overwhelming flood of emotions crashing through their mind like a tsunami. The crowded train car was a nightmare of overlapping feelings—anxiety from the businessman worried about his presentation, excitement from the group of teenagers discussing their weekend plans, and a deep, aching loneliness from the elderly woman sitting by the window.
Focus, Alex told themselves, breathing deeply and trying to remember the meditation techniques their therapist had taught them. Your emotions. Not theirs.
It had been three years since their quirk, Emotional Resonance, had fully manifested, and Alex still struggled to maintain proper barriers. Most days were manageable, but crowded spaces like this turned their mind into a chaotic mess of other people's feelings.
The silver-blue hair that marked them as different caught the morning light streaming through the train windows. Their heterochromatic eyes—one green, one blue—darted nervously around the car as they fought to distinguish their own growing anxiety from the collective stress of the morning commuters.
"Next stop, Musutafu Station," the conductor announced.
Alex's stomach clenched. Today was the day they'd been preparing for since middle school—the U.A. High School entrance examination. The most prestigious hero school in Japan, where legends like All Might had trained. Where Alex hoped to learn how to turn their overwhelming quirk into something that could actually help people.
As the train slowed, Alex caught a particularly strong wave of determination from somewhere nearby. It was pure, focused, and almost overwhelming in its intensity. They turned, searching for the source, and spotted a boy with wild green hair clutching a notebook to his chest. His muttered analysis of hero techniques was barely audible over the train noise, but his emotional signature was like a beacon of unwavering resolve.
The train stopped, and the flood of passengers began moving toward the doors. Alex stood carefully, still maintaining their mental barriers as best they could. The green-haired boy was just ahead of them, practically vibrating with nervous energy and excitement.
As they stepped onto the platform, Alex accidentally bumped into someone—a spiky-haired blonde boy who immediately radiated irritation and barely contained aggression.
"Watch where you're going, extra!" Bakugo Katsuki snarled, his hands already sparking with small explosions.
The sudden spike of anger hit Alex like a physical blow, causing them to stumble backward. Their quirk automatically activated in response to the intense emotion, and for a split second, they felt the overwhelming pride and determination that burned beneath Bakugo's aggressive exterior. There was something else too—a deep-seated fear of not being good enough, carefully hidden beneath layers of arrogance.
"Sorry," Alex managed, steadying themselves against a pillar. "I didn't mean to—"
But Bakugo had already stormed off, leaving Alex shaken and disoriented. The brief connection had been so intense, so raw, that it left them feeling drained.
"Are you okay?"
Alex looked up to see the green-haired boy from the train, concern written across his face. His emotional signature was warm and genuine—worry for a stranger mixed with his own pre-exam nerves.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Alex said, though they were still processing the emotional aftershock from Bakugo's outburst. "Just... quirk side effects. I'm Alex, by the way. Alex Yamamoto."
"Midoriya Izuku," the boy replied with a slight bow. "Good luck with the exam today. I guess we're all pretty nervous, huh?"
Alex nodded, noting how Midoriya's anxiety spiked when he mentioned the exam. There was something complicated about his emotional state—layers of fear, determination, and something else Alex couldn't quite identify. It felt almost like... guilt? But why would someone feel guilty about taking a hero exam?
As they walked toward U.A.'s massive gates, Alex was struck by the sheer scale of the building. It looked like a cross between a modern university and a fortress, with the distinctive U.A. logo proudly displayed above the entrance. Hundreds of prospective students were gathered outside, creating an emotional maelstrom that threatened to overwhelm Alex's already strained barriers.
This is it, Alex thought, clenching their fists to steady themselves. Everything I've worked for.
Their childhood had been a series of incidents where their quirk caused more harm than good. The time in elementary school when they'd absorbed their teacher's stress during a difficult lesson and ended up having a panic attack in front of the entire class. The middle school incident where they'd accidentally resonated with a bully's anger and lashed out at their best friend. The countless nights lying awake, feeling the emotions of their neighbors through the thin apartment walls.
But there had been good moments too. Times when they'd helped calm down crying children or provided comfort to grieving families. Their therapist, Dr. Sato, had helped them understand that their quirk wasn't a curse—it was a tool that needed proper training and control.
"If you can learn to help people manage their emotions," Dr. Sato had told them during their last session, "you could be the kind of hero who prevents conflicts before they start. Who heals communities from the inside out."
Alex took a deep breath and stepped through U.A.'s gates, joining the stream of hopeful students making their way to the examination hall. The emotional noise was incredible—excitement, fear, determination, and desperation all swirling together in a chaotic symphony. But for the first time in years, Alex didn't try to block it out completely.
Instead, they let themselves feel it all—the collective dream of a thousand young people who wanted to become heroes. It was overwhelming, yes, but it was also beautiful. All these different people, from all walks of life, united by a single goal: to help others and make the world a better place.
As they entered the massive auditorium where Present Mic was preparing to explain the practical exam, Alex felt something they hadn't experienced in a long time: hope. Not just their own hope, but the hope of everyone around them, resonating together in perfect harmony.
Today, they would either succeed or fail. But either way, they would face it as themselves—quirk and all.