U.A.'s Gamma Field was a vast, depressing open space that smelled of damp grass and broken dreams. Or, at least, that's how most of Class 1-A perceived it. Dressed in their gym uniforms, they felt exposed under the listless gaze of Shota Aizawa.
"Alright, listen up," Aizawa said, his voice carrying the energy of a wet rag. "Here at U.A., we don't bother with nonsense like opening ceremonies or freshman orientation. We have the freedom to run our classes however we see fit."
He paused, letting the silence settle. A knot formed in Izuku's stomach. This guy wasn't kidding.
"So, we're going to hold a Quirk assessment test. Eight physical tests. You've done them before. The difference is, here, you can use your Quirks. And to make it more interesting, whoever comes in last place will be judged as 'having no potential' and immediately expelled."
A collective gasp ran through the class. Several faces went pale.
"Expelled?!" Ochako whispered next to Izuku, her voice a panicked squeak. "No way! It's the first day!"
Izuku swallowed hard. His mind raced. Shit, he's right. Expelled? After all the work with Mom? After the beach? Go home and say, 'Well, I lasted six hours'? No, no, no. Think, Midoriya. It's a tactic. It has to be.
He forced himself to take a deep breath, trying to project a calm he didn't fully feel.
"No… he can't be serious," he whispered back, trying to convince himself as much as her. "It's a pressure test. Yeah, that's it. He wants to see who breaks under the strain. We can't break, Uraraka."
His slightly forced tone seemed to work. She looked at him, saw the determination fighting the panic in his eyes, and nodded more firmly. They were a team, even in their shared fear.
Aizawa, oblivious or indifferent to their existential crisis, pointed to Bakugo. "You, the one with the explosive hair. Ball throw. What was your record in middle school?"
"Sixty-seven meters!" Bakugo snarled, snatching the ball with a maniacal grin. "Get ready to add a damn explosion to that!"
As Bakugo walked to the throwing circle, Izuku felt the pressure. He didn't have an offensive Quirk. Everything depended on his physique and his crazy theories. For the first time since he saw Mt. Lady, he felt a pang of the old fear, the fear of useless Deku. He crushed it. There was no turning back.
The 50-meter dash was a blur of extravagant Quirks. When it was Ochako's turn, Izuku approached her at the starting line, his "coach" mindset taking over to drown out his own nerves.
"Okay, Uraraka, the dash!" he said in a low, rapid voice. "Remember the theory! It's not flight, it's friction! Short taps on your soles, like you're skating on air! Don't go to the moon, just… glide! You got this!"
His nervous enthusiasm was contagious. She gave him a tense smile and nodded. When the starting gun fired, she executed the maneuver. She didn't float; her feet simply seemed to lose all weight the instant they touched the ground, allowing her to propel herself forward with astonishing speed. Her time was excellent.
Next came the grip strength test. Izuku watched as the other students, especially those with physical enhancement Quirks, posted monstrous scores. He felt another pang of anxiety. His training had made him strong, but this strong?
Ochako, seeing his expression, returned the favor. "Deku-kun! A trick from my dad!" she whispered quickly. "Don't squeeze all at once! Increase the pressure gradually, but with everything you've got! And don't think about your hand, think about your forearm! The real strength comes from there!"
"Wow, Uraraka, you're a genius! Thanks!" he exclaimed, genuinely grateful.
He followed her advice, visualizing the muscles in his forearm tensing, and managed a score that, while not spectacular, was solidly respectable and well above average for someone without a strength Quirk. He shot Ochako a grateful look. Definitely a team.
During the other tests, his mind drifted between strategy and his more basic instincts. He saw a girl with a tail make an impressive long jump. A tail… interesting, he thought. I wonder if Mt. Lady… No, focus, you idiot! Survive this first, fantasize later! You have to pass to even have a chance to fantasize about being her intern. Priorities, Midoriya, priorities.
Finally, the moment of truth arrived: Ochako's ball throw. It was their ace in the hole, the trump card they had perfected on the beach. But the pressure was immense. If she failed, her overall score could plummet.
She took the ball, her knuckles white. Izuku came closer, his face a mask of intense concentration.
"Uraraka, forget strength! To hell with strength!" he said, his voice a feverish, passionate whisper. "This is physics, pure and beautiful physics! Remember? Trust the spin! Give it as much spin as you can, like you're throwing a universe-breaking curveball!"
He looked her in the eyes, transferring his own manic confidence in his theory to her. "When it leaves your hand, WHAM, you touch it. A light touch, the kiss of zero gravity! And then science does the rest! It has to work!"
Ochako took a deep breath, Izuku's blind faith in his weird science calming her nerves. She nodded.
She positioned herself in the circle. She spun. She threw. And she touched.
Izuku held his breath, his fists clenched so tight his nails dug into his palms. Come on, come on, come on, work, please work, for the love of all glorious thighs, work…
The ball went up. And up. And it didn't stop going up. It became a speck, then nothing.
Aizawa raised his device. The screen displayed the symbol: ∞.
Silence.
And then, chaos.
"INFINITY?! Are you kidding me?!" "That's insane!"
Izuku let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in a whoosh of relief. He looked at Ochako, who was gaping, staring at her own hand.
"You did it! Uraraka, you're amazing!" he yelled, a smile of pure euphoria on his face. His gaze swept over her figure, noticing how the gym uniform fit her in a particularly nice way when she exerted herself. And, wow, the way that uniform… Well done, partner! he corrected himself mentally, giving her an enthusiastic thumbs-up.
Bakugo looked like he was about to spontaneously combust. Momo Yaoyorozu, on the other hand, wore an expression of pure fascination, her mind clearly running through the variables that had led to such an impossible result.
When Aizawa revealed the expulsion was a ruse, a "rational deception" to draw out their maximum potential, the class nearly lynched him. The relief was so intense it was almost painful.
As they headed back to the locker rooms, exhausted and mentally fried, Momo Yaoyorozu, her natural elegance intact, approached the duo.
"Uraraka-san, congratulations," she said, her calm voice a counterpoint to the general buzz. "Your application of the conservation of angular momentum in that throw was conceptually brilliant. A perfect execution."
Izuku swelled with pride for his friend. "Did you hear that, Uraraka?! 'Conceptually brilliant'! I told you so!"
Ochako, however, turned beet-red. "Oh, no, well, thank you, Yaoyorozu-san! But the idea wasn't mine, it was Deku-kun's! He's the brains behind this stuff!"
Momo turned to Izuku, and he felt the weight of that intelligent, curious gaze. "Yours, Midoriya-san?"
He scratched the back of his neck, a little flustered under her scrutiny. "Ah, no, well, I just threw the idea out there! You're the one with the 'reality-breaking' level Quirk!" he said, deflecting the credit to Ochako. Then, he turned to Momo, his nerdy enthusiasm taking over. "It's just… it's so cool! Gravity is a pain, you know? It's always there, pulling everything down, ruining the fun. But if you take it away…! Boom! Rotation becomes king! It's like an ice skater spinning faster by pulling in their arms. Conservation of angular momentum! It's one of the coolest rules in the universe!"
His passion was so genuine, so geeky, that Momo couldn't help but crack a small smile. This boy wasn't a calculating strategist. He was a science fanatic.
"An impressive deduction," Momo admitted. "Especially considering your Quirk is…"
"...for training animals. It is! Literally. I can make a poodle sit with a ninety-percent success rate," Izuku said with a smart-ass grin. "But I guess even if you only know how to train poodles, if you read enough physics books, you can teach one how to use a sled, right? It's just… using the tools you have on hand. And physics is the best tool of all."
Momo looked at him, then at Ochako, and a different understanding settled in. He wasn't some mysterious enigma. He was an absurdly perceptive physics nerd with a useless Quirk, a well-trained body, and a confidence in his theories that bordered on madness. And, somehow, that combination was far more intriguing.
It's ridiculous…, Momo thought, as the three of them started walking toward the locker rooms together. And brilliant. What a strange combination. She observed the easy camaraderie between Izuku and Ochako. And he already has a partner who believes in his ridiculous brilliance. Midoriya Izuku… a pervert, maybe, but a good person.