The world still trembled.
Not from the explosions or the machines—those were long gone. Not from the sounds of Present Mic's announcement that the exam had concluded. That too had faded.
No.
The earth trembled because Yujiro Hanama still stood.
And even silence bowed to him.
The wind had picked up across the wreckage of the battle zone, kicking ash and broken metal into the air. Other students huddled in groups—nursing wounds, laughing in relief, sobbing from stress.
Yujiro walked through them alone.
No cuts on his back.
Because he never turned away.
No limps in his step.
Because he never fell.
Only blood drying along his jawline. His own. And oil. Not his.
Inside the waiting bay, proctors observed quietly. Medical droids beeped. The sound of rapid typing echoed from behind glowing monitors.
Aizawa leaned against the back wall, arms crossed.
"Seventy-six points from robots. Fifteen from rescue. The rest… combat superiority."
Nezu adjusted his spectacles. "And his pressure reading… off the charts. Even without touching anyone."
Midnight raised a brow. "It felt like he was radiating something. Something primal. Like… intent made physical."
All Might remained silent. But his eyes were fixed on the screen.
Yujiro standing above the broken zero-pointer.
Shouting a name that wasn't his own.
Later, in the first aid center, the mood was a strange mix of awe and confusion.
Midoriya sat near the window, clutching his notebook.
"I couldn't even move when that pressure hit me," he whispered. "It felt like gravity. Like being under the ocean."
Bakugo slammed a chair with his palm. "He's just muscle and trauma. He doesn't get what being a hero means!"
Todoroki said nothing, eyes half-lidded.
"People fear him. That's not the same as respect."
Iida tried to interject with formality, "Regardless of ability, he must follow the rules once in class. He—"
"I heard he fought Revenant with no support gear," said Kaminari, wide-eyed.
"He crushed a zero-pointer with a fist," Jirou added.
"But… he didn't smile once," Ochako whispered. "He didn't even look proud."
Yujiro sat in a dark corner of the recovery bay.
Toma's scarf still tied around his wrist.
He watched his bandaged hands. His torn clothes. His reflection in the chrome wall.
What stared back wasn't a student.
It was a survivor.
He didn't bask in the moment.
He analyzed it.
Where he hesitated.
Where he flinched.
Where he was still too slow.
Every step of the test was replayed again and again in his mind.
Perfection was the goal.
Not applause.
When the results were posted three days later, the message was simple:
Top Score: Yujiro Hanama.
There was no celebration.
No crowd waiting to lift him.
Only silence as students scrolled through the announcement.
In his room at the facility, Yujiro trained alone. Each punch was crisp. Each block honed. Sweat poured. Muscles screamed.
Miss Maru entered, watching from the door.
"You made it," she said quietly.
He didn't stop.
"I haven't earned it yet."
"You beat their machines."
"I didn't save Toma."
She lowered her gaze.
He paused.
"But I will never let that happen again."
Elsewhere, U.A. began discussions.
Teachers gathered to discuss integration.
"He's not like the others," Aizawa said. "He doesn't seek friendship. He doesn't need permission. But he wants to protect."
All Might nodded. "That's enough to start. The rest… he'll learn."
Midoriya flipped through his notebook obsessively.
"Yujiro doesn't rely on natural ability. He built it. His timing is beyond instinct. He reads threats. He feels them. Like… like Haki from One Piece, but real."
Todoroki added, "He's dangerous. Not because he's cruel. Because he believes pain makes him real."
Kirishima grinned nervously. "Manly… but scary."
Mina looked troubled. "He walks like he's waiting for something to attack him."
Yujiro stood at the gates of U.A.
No crowd. No ceremony. No fireworks.
Just wind. Stone. And memory.
He touched the scarf one last time.
Closed his eyes.
Toma's voice echoed in the back of his mind.
"You always walk ahead. So I'll always watch your back."
Yujiro whispered, "I'll make sure no one ever walks alone again."
And he stepped through the gates.
Into Class 1-A.
Where the strongest heroes of the next generation were forged.
And where a storm was about to be born.