Not gonna lie, I feel like I'm making Kento too similar to Kazue with his "fuck this shit" attitude and his academic skills. I mean, he is more emotional inside, actually has motivation to do stuff (pun not intended), and isn't a natural prodigy, but like... still. Idk.

Also: new character alert. I might find a face claim for better visualization, but maybe not considering I wrote the description beforehand.

•❅────✧❅✦❅✧────❅•

The months leading up to the entrance exam passed quickly. Kento continued his hellish, self-created program, never once leaving his room to do anything other than go to school, go out in the woods to train, or eat. Every waking moment was spent in preparation.

He knew in his heart that he was far beyond ready, yet he couldn't help but feel as though nothing he did was close to being good enough. Even if Kento's only strikes against his grades were the result of stupid mistakes that could've easily been avoided, nothing was ever one hundred percent. For all he knew, there could be questions he hadn't prepared for on the written exam.

The practical exam was another mystery. Should he pass the written exam, he'd be allowed to go back to the school two weeks later to take it. Kento had done his research; every year, the exam was different. Previous students had fought against teachers, fought each other, played competitive games, and the list went on and on. It was never the same test, no matter how many years had passed.

In short, he had no clue what to expect and couldn't quell the turbulence of 'what ifs' that flooded his head.

"I'm off," Kento half-called from the door, pulling on his shoes and glancing back to see if anyone cared. Since it was Sunday and not a school day, he knew Fuyumi was still at home, but wasn't sure if there was anyone else.

Not even a second had passed before his sister appeared and engulfed him in a hug without warning. "Do your best, Kento! We're all rooting for you!"

More like just you and Natsuo.

Kento refrained from speaking his thoughts aloud in favor of trying to relax in Fuyumi's arms. He failed miserably in doing so, but his sister only hugged him tighter while he awkwardly patted her shoulder. "Thanks."

She pulled back and grinned, her hands resting on his shoulders over the straps of his backpack. "Give 'em hell for me."

The redhead knew she was referring to when she'd failed to get into Arutravi, but refrained from telling her he hadn't so much as thought of applying. Kento knew she wouldn't understand. Fuyumi was always trying to pull the family back together, no matter if she was the only one who was trying.

No one would ever understand, and the only one who did was burned to ash.

"I will," Kento promised, the words sounding hollow as they left his lips. He didn't let himself dwell any further on it, though, and left the Todoroki household with a small, final wave of goodbye.

He was quick to make his way down the long street and enter the city proper, then found the right train that would take him to the station closest to Yūei. Even though the Todoroki family lived in Musutafu, their house was situated on the outskirts of the city where it was more suburban. A small blessing, considering Kento hated going into the city. It was so loud and disorienting, and as much as he tried to block out all the noises, his brain just wouldn't cooperate.

One hellish train ride later where the redhead crammed himself into a corner to avoid other people, Kento left the station. He then found and joined the growing flow of other kids his age on their way up the hill. If it could even be called a hill, that is, considering how much space the school had on the summit even with the buildings and various mock cities. Kento genuinely didn't know how they could afford it all, even with government funding. Donations from alumni who'd become successful heroes, maybe?

In all honesty, he didn't care. Kento was there for one reason, and one reason only. Everything and everyone else was irrelevant, and that would be the way it remained until his goal was achieved. Then after... he hadn't quite gotten that far yet.

He walked in silence within the gates of the school, trying and failing not to overhear what felt like hundreds of simultaneous conversations. His hands tucked into the pant pockets of his uniform, idly tapping out a pattern onto his thighs. Following the flow of other students, Kento found the list of applicants and what classroom they'd been assigned. He raised his eyebrows in muted surprise at the sheer amount of names.

Holy shit. There were thousands of them, sorted alphabetically and spread out evenly along the wall. Other teens frantically searched the list for their names, apparently thinking that getting a good seat would make them do better on their tests.

It wouldn't.

Kento sighed at the hassle, weaving through the crowd carefully to avoid as much physical contact as possible to scan near the end. It would've been easier if the school had simply sent them an e-mail detailing the information. He knew they kept a tight lid on information at Yūei, but this... this was idiotic.

The recommendation students would never have to do something like this, few of them as there were.

Eventually, the redhead found his name—alongside a corresponding number—and glanced at the header of the section to see what classroom he'd have to go to. 3-B, so... fourth floor of the heroics sector. Even if Kento didn't know what the exams entailed, he had made sure to know where each class was located.

If there was anything he hated, it was wandering around looking like he was lost. Then some moron would come up to him and ask him if he needed help, and...maybe that was Kento's actual issue with the whole situation: he didn't need anyone's help, nor did he want it.

Shut up, Kento told his brain when he found his assigned classroom. He preferred a look of indifference when it came to walking into a room full of strangers, not an 'I'm pondering my existence' one.

He ignored everyone and found an empty seat out of the twenty total desks, immediately taking out two pencils and an eraser. Several other students also had a calculator placed on the floor for easy access, but Kento refrained from taking out something he wouldn't need. Something about moving a pencil across paper to work out a problem meshed easier with his train of thought, whereas it would be interrupted if he paused to enter numbers into the calculator.

Not that he actually had a calculator, but it was the thought that counted. While his father didn't seem to notice the smaller purchases Kento occasionally made with his credit card, graphing calculators were pretty damn expensive.

Eventually, once all the seats were filled, someone who was presumably a teacher entered the classroom. He was of average height, with blue hair that varied in shade and was swept back to resemble waves in motion. Meanwhile, his eyes were the grey of a rainstorm as he scanned the sea of students with raised eyebrows.

In one of the man's hands was a large stack of packets, and scantron sheets were in the other.

"Out of all of you in this room right now, around six-point-two-five percent will be invited back to take the practical exam," the teacher opened bluntly, slapping down the packets and sheets on the podium. "One, maybe two, out of twenty. Roughly eight thousand applicants down to five hundred."

Kento decided, for the first time in a long time, that he sort of liked this teacher. He didn't beat around the bush and most definitely didn't put on kid gloves.

"Keep in mind, though, that just because you get a kind of shitty grade on the written doesn't mean you can't make it in," the man continued, unfazed at cursing in front of teenagers. "You can get as low as a seventy-five and you might still have the chance to take the practical."

The redhead narrowed his eyes in remembrance of the stipulation, having hoped the percentage was an error and they'd meant to put eighty-five. No matter how powerful someone's Quirk was, it didn't matter if they were a complete idiot.

"Honestly, the section we care most about is the ethics and morality one," the teacher mentioned absently, momentarily pulling out his phone to glance at the screen. "That's where most of the eliminations happen."

Kento's eye twitched at the mention of the section. What had happened to getting into the program due to merit? When did personal opinions get involved? They should focus more on education and less on irrelevant topics that would waste time more than anything else.

"Anyway, I'm going to shut up now and let you guys take your test. Eyes on your own paper, cheating of any kind is an automatic zero," the teacher deliberately deadpanned the latter half, leading to some snickers from the students. "There'll be a five minute break every half hour, but you can work on any section in any order so long as you keep your calculator under your desk until you need it. Good luck, you're probably going to need it."

He began passing out test packets and scantrons on the side opposite from Kento, nearest to the window and working his way left. "Oh, and my name's Nishikawa Ryūji, for any of you that want to complain to your parents about my 'unprofessional conduct'. News flash, we can teach however we deem fit at Yūei and your mommies and daddies can't get me fired for that."

To Kento, that sounded more like a personal grudge than an actual warning. He briefly wondered what had happened, then remembered that he didn't actually care and waited in silence until he received his test papers.

When he did, the redhead stared down at the first page with his eyebrows raised, then experimentally flipped through the entire packet. It appeared he'd been worried about the written exam for nothing, considering how simple the questions were. Each and every one in the academics portion was multiple choice save for a few of the math questions, and Kento could easily eliminate half of the possible answers at first glance. From there, it was simple to choose between two answers and bubble it in on the sheet.

He flipped back to the first page and began the test.

•❅────✧❅✦❅✧────❅•

"Time out, put your pencils down and fill over your answer sheet for a five-minute break," Nishikawa called without looking up from his phone, stopping the marimba alarm a half-second after it started. "If you leave the room, leave any electronic devices on your desk where I can see them. That does include digital watches."

Kento did as he was told, then folded his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. In the half-hour, he'd completed both Japanese sections for reading and writing and was about to start the English section. Fairly good pacing, considering he could hear two students whispering about how they hadn't even finished one yet.

The break passed quickly, and once again, the sound of pencils scratching against paper filled the room.

One more half-hour, two more subjects down. During the third session, which brought the total time to one hundred minutes, Kento finished every question related to academics and double-checked each one. No stupid mistakes would fly on such an important test.

Then, finally, Kento reached the last section. Unlike the previous ones, the Ethics and Morality section was strictly short-answer.

The first question entailed a daughter and a niece swimming in the ocean and getting caught in ocean currents. Assuming Kento was a strong swimmer—he was, in all ranges of temperature—which would he save? The daughter, who is a strong swimmer, or the niece, who is not?

Call for the daughter to swim across the current rather than head-on, as a strong swimmer would be able to escape much easier this way. Assist the niece.

Kento knew from experience that swimming against currents never went well; however, not everyone knew that. If he were to yell it to someone who didn't know, he would be able to save both.

The rest of the five or so questions all entailed similar who-would-you-sacrifice dilemmas. Besides the swimmer issue, there was also a question regarding a train heading toward a group of five people. The track could be switched to another, but it would lead to one with Kento's best friend trapped on the rails instead.

Switch to the empty track rather than kill five people.

That was the fancy way of saying that Kento had no friends, let alone a best friend.

He bullshitted his way through the rest of the questions, giving answers that were definitely not the standard. Kento's strategy was to give the most plausible yet intriguing responses possible. They weren't wrong when it came to ethics and morality, but weren't the obvious this-or-that answers.

Finally, the redhead scooped up his packet and answer sheet and abruptly stood. He could see the majority of the class startle and look at him in his peripheral vision, clearly surprised that he'd already finished. It was a long test, but Kento was used to finishing first due to his time management. He hadn't always been that way, but he'd forcibly kicked things into overdrive during his third year of junior high.

"Done already?" Nishikawa glanced up from his phone with a raised eyebrow, still typing without even looking at the screen. He'd gotten a chair from somewhere in the middle of the first session and was slouched behind the podium. The teacher gestured with his chin to it. "Put 'em right up top. Answer sheet on my right, packet on the left."

Kento did so without so much as a word of acknowledgment, then returned to his seat.

Now what?

He was the type to get bored easily when there was nothing to do, an unfortunate side effect from always working on something, whether it be training or studying. But since no one was allowed to take out anything until everyone's tests had been turned in...

Kento was already bored and it had only been a few seconds. He soon found himself lightly bouncing a leg, much to the evident annoyance of the girl sitting to his right. Out of petty spite, the redhead pretended he didn't see her pointed glares and stared blankly at his desk.

How much time was left? An hour? An hour and a half? Hard to tell; they were only told how long testing sessions would be in between breaks. Nishikawa oh-so-helpfully refrained from informing the students of how many of said sessions there would be in the first place.

Kento ghosted his hands over his desk as the clock ran on, trying to remember a piano piece he'd taught himself on a rare moment where he had free time. Of course, it hadn't been at home and inside a mall and he'd been kicked out shortly thereafter for 'being a nuisance', but it'd been nice while it lasted.

He paused, narrowing his eyes as he tried and failed to remember the rest. Damn it.

"Todoroki-kun," Nishikawa said out of nowhere a minute later, his face one of... understanding? Understanding of what? "You're free to leave early, if you want."

Kento blinked in confusion, his fingers halting in their silent flicking of the air at his sides. Yet another product of his boredom; he always had to be moving something. Why was Nishikawa... wasn't it a rule that everyone had to stay until the exam was completely over? Was this a test or something for whoever finished first?

He hesitated while placing a hand on the back of his chair, slightly pushing up to test the waters. Whenever it came to getting out of his seat in the middle of class, Kento always braced himself for the inevitable verbal rebuke from the teacher to sit back down.

It never came.

Kento pretended as though the moment of hesitation had never happened, the mask of indifference coating his expression in an instant. He slung his backpack over a shoulder and walked out of the classroom without so much as a goodbye.

He'd probably never see most of them again, so what was the point? Nishikawa appeared to be a third-year teacher, and the odds that the two or so others in the room that would get to take the practical exam would pass it as well weren't great. Maybe one other person would pass, and even then, there were two first-year classes in the heroics course.

In short, Kento didn't need to bid farewell to complete strangers. That was a waste of time; time that could be spent studying or training, improving in mind and body.

The redhead knew for certain that he'd passed the written exam, so long as the grader found his short-answer responses sufficient. His next priority would be preparing for the practical exam, which would take place exactly two weeks later.

Kento's new problem, however, wasn't training for whatever Yūei could throw at him. No. It was to figure out how to sneak out of the house for the practical without Fuyumi noticing. Now that would be a hassle. 

Let's see if my commitment issues will let me update this every Monday. Probably not, considering I used to update Motivation every Saturday. Then again, Kento's a bit of an easier character for me to write because I can go more in depth with his emotions and have less analytical stuff, so...

Maybe? We'll see. Feel free to yell at me if I don't update come next Monday.