MHA Rewrite: Plus Ultra

Ground Beta. The building looms ahead, silent. Class 1-A stands gathered in front of it, dressed in their hero costumes. Except for four. Izuku. Uraraka. Iida. Bakugo. They stand off to the side, watching. Izuku shifts slightly where he stands.  Too close. Aizawa stands at the front, hands in his pockets, expression unchanged. His gaze moves across the class, lingering just a fraction longer than usual. “…Same exercise. Different supervision.” No one reacts. Aizawa exhales through his nose. “Last time got out of hand. That won’t happen again. Use of force is permitted, but excess is not. Know the difference.” Silence. He reaches into a box and lifts a handful of lots. “Teams will be assigned randomly. Draw.” … Monitor Room Aizawa’s voice comes through the speakers. “Ojiro Mashirao. Hagakure Toru. Team I. Villains.” ⸻ Nuke Room Ojiro stands near the device, tail swaying slightly as he scans the room. “Yo, Ojiro.” He turns. “…Hagakure?” A uniform floats in place—gloves, boots, nothing else visible. Hagakure stretches lazily. “So like… we’re not actually gonna go all out and start breaking fingers, right?” Ojiro exhales quietly. “…I’d prefer not to.” “Good, ‘cause that was kinda insane.” A beat. “But what if I take these off?” She tugs at one glove. Thump. Then the other. Ojiro stiffens, immediately turning his head away. “I—uh—y-yeah, that would improve your stealth…” City girls are hard to understand… A soft thud as her boots drop to the floor. A light tap pokes his cheek. Ojiro flinches. “Hey~ don’t peek, okay?” “I’m not peeking!” A pause. “…There’s no difference.” Hagakure giggles.  “Okay, I’m gonna go sneak attack them!” Footsteps dart away. “Ah—wait…!” Ojiro takes a step forward— Then stops. A quiet sigh escapes him. “Todoroki Shoto. Shoji Mezo. Team B. Heroes.” — Outside Ground Beta— Shoji’s arms shift, splitting and reshaping. Eyes bloom across his hands. They scan. Listening. Watching. A beat. “…Two signatures inside,” Shoji says quietly. “Upper floor. One moving. One stationary.” Todoroki stands beside him, gaze fixed on the building. A brief pause. “Stay here.” Shoji hesitates— Then steps back. Todoroki walks forward. The moment his foot crosses the threshold— Ice erupts. It spreads from beneath him, racing along the floor, climbing the walls, swallowing the interior whole. He doesn’t stop. He walks. Inside— Frost blooms across the room in an instant. Hagakure yelps as the cold overtakes her. “This is totally not fair!!” Todoroki passes her. Doesn’t look. Doesn’t slow. Ahead— Ojiro is caught mid-step, ice locking around his body. His arms remain free. Todoroki walks past him. Without stopping. “Pry yourself up if you want,” he says calmly. A step. Ice creaks underfoot. “But it might be hard to fight me with no skin on the bottom of your feet.” Ojiro’s eyes narrow. I can still break it— His arms tense. A flash— Bakugo’s hand. Bent fingers. The sound— CRACK. Ojiro flinches. His body stiffens. The strength drains from his arms. He stops struggling. Todoroki keeps walking. Unaffected. At the center of the room— The objective. He places a hand on it. Ice settles. Still. —— Aizawa turns to his students. “Incapacitated. Without compromising the weapon or his teammate. Take notes.” His gaze sharpens—briefly—on Izuku. He turns to the speaker. “Villains captured. Payload retrieved. Hero team wins.” A few students react. Kaminari laughs. “That was easy!” Asui ribbits softly. “Very efficient.” Kirishima grins, pumping a fist. “Total badass!” He claps a hand on Bakugo’s back. “Right, Bakugo?” Bakugo doesn’t look at him. “…Whatever.” Kirishima laughs it off. “Man, you’re impossible!” — Back inside— The ice begins to melt. Heat seeps through it, cracking the frost. Ojiro exhales sharply. “Heat, too?!” Hagakure hops in place. “Ow, ow, ow!” Todoroki turns slightly. “It’s not your fault.” A brief beat. “We’re just playing on different levels.” Ojiro’s fist tightens. ——— Monitor room.  Izuku’s hunched over his notebook, muttering under his breath, pen moving quickly across the page. “…ice spread rate… full-area control… minimal resistance…” Bakugo glances at him. His expression doesn’t change: a constant frown, eyes sharp. He watches for a moment. Then looks back at the monitor. Iida’s gaze shifts. It lands on Izuku. His expression tightens. “…How unseemly.” Uraraka’s eyes flick between them. Then— She leans forward slightly in her seat. Just enough. Blocking Iida’s line of sight. Iida pauses. His brows knit—confused. Uraraka frowns at him. Firm. Unyielding. A brief beat— Iida winces. He turns back to the monitor. Silence settles again. Izuku’s pen doesn’t stop moving. The simulations continued until everyone had a turn. I gathered a lot of data from that. A brief pause. But I wasn’t the only one looking for data… …. At the entrance of U.A. Morning. A microphone is shoved inches from Izuku’s face. He flinches. “What’s it like learning from All Might?!”  “Ah—? Oh—uh—” He straightens instinctively. “S-super duper…!” —— Another reporter. Victim: Uraraka. “Tell us what the Symbol of Peace looks like in class!” Uraraka blinks. “How he looks? Umm…” A beat. Then— She awkwardly flexes her arms, trying to mimic a heroic pose. “Like… super muscly…? Yeah!” Her smile is sheepish. —— Another reporter on Iida. “Tell us about ‘All Might, the teacher’!” Iida straightens instantly. “His leadership and wisdom remind me daily that I attend the world’s most prestigious educational institution; he embodies the honor and integrity one would expect of the Symbol of Peace, while also demonstrating a surprisingly approachable, even humorous side—it is truly a rare privilege to study under the direct tutelage of the pro we all admire, and furthermore—” —— Another reporter spots Bakugo. He walks past, hands in his pockets. “Excuse me! Are you in All Might’s class?!” The reporter and cameraman hurry after him. Bakugo glances at them— —and keeps walking. “Wait—aren’t you that kid from the Sludge Villain incident?” No response. His pace doesn’t change. “Hey! You were on the news, right? The one who got—” Bakugo stops. Just for a second. The reporter leans in. “—saved by—” “…Move.” His voice is low. Flat. Not loud. But it cuts. The reporter freezes. Bakugo walks past him. Doesn’t look back. —— A crowd of reporters presses against the front gate—cameras, microphones, voices overlapping into a constant hum. Flashes go off. Questions pile on top of each other. At the center of it— Aizawa. Reporter A leans forward, microphone raised. “Please, sir—can you get All Might for us?” Another reporter squints at him. “…And what’s with you? You look like a mess.” Aizawa exhales, already done. “All Might’s not on campus today. Now move.” He makes a lazy shooing motion. “You’ve disturbed my students enough.” Reporter A gasps. “But my viewers want to know how he’s adjusting to life as a teacher!” Reporter B tilts his head. “…I feel like I’ve seen this guy somewhere before.” Reporter C scoffs. “I don’t know, but he’s a bit scruffy for a hero…” Aizawa walks past them without another word. How does All Might deal with this circus every day… Behind him— Reporter A steps forward. “Alright, if you won’t bring him out, I’ll just—” She crosses the threshold. —ALARM BLARES. A massive steel barrier slams down in front of her. “WAHH—WHAT THE HELL?!” Reporter B winces. “…You don’t know about U.A.’s security?” She spins on him. “It almost killed me!” “It’s designed to stop unauthorized entry. No ID, no access.” He gestures at the barrier. “Guess it works.” She grits her teeth. “Unbelievable… Keeping the public out like this…” Reporter B sighs. “Tell me about it. We’ve been here two days and I don’t have a single quote.” They keep complaining. The noise blends into the background. — Behind them— Among the reporters— A figure stands still. Too still. His posture relaxed. But wrong. Out of place in a way that doesn’t quite register. Hands in his pockets.  Head tilted slightly as he watches the gate. Listens to the alarm. The shouting. The complaints. A quiet sound slips out. A low, restrained cackle. Barely audible under the noise. Amused. … The news that All Might had been hired as a faculty member at U.A. took the entire nation by surprise. Naturally, the media swarmed the school in search of a story. Everyone wanted to get their hands on All Might. Classroom Aizawa leans against the desk, eyes half-lidded. “Decent work on yesterday’s combat training.” A brief pause. “Some of you thought things through.” He glances up. “Ashido.” Mina perks up. “Yes, sir!” “Good mobility.” A beat. “You kept pressure on your opponent.” Another pause. “But you left openings.” Mina scratches her cheek, grinning sheepishly. “Ah… yeah…” Aizawa’s gaze shifts. “Aoyama.” Aoyama places a hand dramatically over his chest. “Oui?” “Flashy.” A pause. “Predictable.” Aoyama freezes. “…Mon dieu.” Aizawa exhales. “Fix that.” A brief silence settles. Aizawa straightens slightly. “Alright. Enough of that.” A beat. “Next—something important.” The class tenses. “Our first task will affect your future.” A ripple goes through the room. Students stiffen. “…Another test?!” “Is it another Quirk assessment?!” Aizawa continues, unfazed. “You’re choosing a class representative.” Silence. Then— Students: SUCH A NORMAL SCHOOL-LIKE THING!  A sea of hands shoots up. Jiro raises hers calmly. “I’d like to do it.” Kirishima leans forward, grinning. “I wanna be class president! Let me do it!” Mineta shoots to his feet, eyes wild. “If I become president, all girls are required to show 30 centimeters of thigh!” Aoyama places a hand over his chest. “Naturally, the position was made for moi.” The noise builds— Voices overlapping. Arguments already starting— “Me!” “No, I called it first!” “I’d be perfect for it!” Izuku sighs.  In a normal school, the position would entail mundane tasks—so naturally, nobody would want it. But in the Hero Course of U.A., it means leading the group… a role suited for the top hero in the making. …I was planning on doing it. A brief pause. But it’s going to take time before I build back everyone’s trust. “Silence!” Iida’s voice cuts through the room. He stands, arm raised sharply. The class freezes. “This is a matter that requires order and proper procedure!” He adjusts his glasses. “We will not descend into chaos over something so important!” A brief pause. “I propose we conduct this fairly—through a vote.” Asui turns in her seat, looking at Iida. “But Iida-san, we haven’t known each other long enough to build any trust.” Kirishima frowns. “And everyone’s just gonna vote for themselves!” Iida nods firmly. “That is precisely why those who receive multiple votes will prove themselves most suited for the role.” The class quiets. A beat— “…Ahhh…” A wave of reluctant understanding passes through them. Iida adjusts his glasses. A faint flicker of a smirk crosses his lips— And thus, with order established, the outcome should be clear… … At the front of the classroom— A list of names fills the board. Votes tallied beside each one. Most students: one vote. At the top— Yaoyorozu Momo — 4 Further down— A string of ones. And one name— Iida Tenya — 0 A brief, awkward gap. But below— Uraraka Ochako - 0 At the very bottom— Midoriya Izuku — -1 Izuku stares at it. “…How did that happen?” Beside him, Iida adjusts his glasses, eyes fixed on his own result. “…I appear to have miscalculated.” Jiro leans back in her seat, looking at Iida with clear exasperation. “…So you voted for someone else?” Iida doesn’t respond. Sato crosses his arms, brow furrowed. “You’re the one who proposed the election… what exactly were you expecting, Iida-san?” Iida exhales, then turns to face the class. “…Very well.” A brief pause. “The decision has been made. Democracy has spoken.” He gestures toward her. “Yaoyorozu-san will serve as class president.” Momo rises from her seat and bows. “I am honored by this responsibility.” She straightens, composed. “I will do my best.” Mina grins “You better! You won by a landslide!”  Momo chuckles sheepishly. “I appreciate the confidence you all are giving me…”  Tsuyu blinks and looks at Uraraka. “Who did you vote for, Uraraka-san?” Uraraka stiffens. She looks sheepish as she places a finger on her lips. … Cafeteria Uraraka picks up her tray and scans the room. Her eyes move from table to table— She tilts her head slightly. “…Huh?” He’s not there. A brief pause. She heads over to another table and sits beside Momo and Iida. A few other students fill the seats around them. “Have you guys seen Deku? I couldn’t find him…” Momo looks up from her meal. “Midoriya-san? He was here just a moment ago.” A small pause as she recalls it. “He took out his notebook and began muttering to himself… then left. He didn’t even touch his food.” Uraraka sighs. “I worry about him sometimes…” She bites her lip, brows knit together. Iida adjusts his glasses. “…You are still associating with Midoriya, Uraraka-san?” Uraraka turns to him, clearly annoyed. “You’re still hung up on that?!” She exhales, shaking her head. “Geez… even I already forgave you, Iida-kun! It should all be water under the bridge!”  Iida fumbles with his glasses. “Y-yes, well…” What Midoriya did… is something I cannot simply forgive! Uraraka puffs her cheeks, crossing her arms. “Then why didn’t you apologize to Deku?” A brief pause. “You apologized to me, but not him—that’s not fair, is it, Iida-kun?” She sighs, still exasperated. “…You can be really insensitive sometimes. That’s why nobody voted for you.”  Iida stiffens. Momo raises a hand slightly. “Now, now… Uraraka-san…” Uraraka frowns. “What? It’s true.” She glances toward Momo. “Yaoyorozu-san was voted because she understands how everyone feels.” Then back to Iida. “Iida-kun doesn’t.” Iida pushes up his glasses. “…You’re right, Uraraka-san.” Uraraka blinks. Momo’s brows lift in surprise. A brief pause. “You told me as much on the first day.” Iida lowers his gaze slightly. “It is a failure on my part… one I will strive to improve upon.” A brief pause. “…And perhaps I have been too rigid with Midoriya.” He adjusts his glasses. “Like me, he makes mistakes.” Another beat. “As classmates—and as aspiring heroes—we should support one another. With both camaraderie… and accountability.” Iida bows his head. “…Forgive me.” Uraraka doesn’t respond at first. A brief pause. Then she exhales softly, a small, gentle smile forming. “Don’t apologize to me…” She looks at him. “Apologize to Deku.” Another beat. “…Be his friend again.” Iida straightens slightly. “…Yes.” A soft silence settles— Momo watches the exchange, then smiles quietly. Suddenly— An alarm blares. Students jolt in their seats. “Wah?!” A robotic voice echoes through the intercom. “Security Level 3 has been breached. All students, please evacuate in an orderly fashion.” A ripple of confusion spreads. “What’s Security Level 3?!” Iida shoots to his feet. “It indicates an intruder on campus grounds! Everyone, remain—” The room erupts. Chairs scrape. Voices overlap. Students surge toward the exit. Panic spreads faster than his words. Uraraka is swallowed by the crowd, pushed back by the surge of students. “Iida-kun!” She reaches out— But there’s too much distance. Iida turns sharply, forcing his way forward. “Uraraka-san!” He extends his arm— But the current pushes him back. Students press between them. Their hands never meet. Nearby— Momo is swept along with the others. “Everyone, please—don’t panic! Don’t push!” Her voice strains to rise above the noise. It’s swallowed by the chaos. Students shout over one another— “Ow—hey, watch it!” “Stop shoving!” “Wait—I’m gonna fall—!” “Kyaaa! Who’s touching me there?!” “MINETA!!!” Iida grits his teeth, trying to hold his ground. “Tsk…! All this chaos, from students of the most prestigious hero—!” The crowd surges— He’s shoved hard against the window, his cheek pressed flat against the glass. “—…institution—!” He strains to speak. “…Who could have possibly infil—” He stops. Outside— A swarm of reporters. Cameras. Flashing lights. Iida’s eyes widen. …The press corps!! — Reporters shout over one another, pressing forward. “Give us All Might!” “We just want one comment!” Cameras flash. Microphones push forward. In the middle of the crowd— Aizawa and Present Mic are trapped. Present Mic leans forward, forcing a grin. “He’s out today! But hey—how about an exclusive interview with me, Present Mic—!” “WE WANT ALL MIGHT!” “You talk too much!” Present Mic sputters, his face contorting. “…EXCUSE MEEEE?!” He turns to Aizawa, face twitching. “This is completely illegal and villainous, by the way...! Can we blow them away already…?!” Aizawa doesn’t even look at him. “Lay it off, Mic. They’ll write whatever they want anyway.” He exhales. “Just wait for the police.” — Iida strains, trying to turn his head. “There is no danger! It is merely the media! Everyone, remain ca—!” The crowd surges again— His face drags against the glass. “—aaalm—!” Students shout over one another— “Owww!” “Hold on—I’m falling! I’m falling!” “Stop pushing!” “My vital organs!” Iida’s eyes widen. Have all the teachers been incapacitated?! This is unacceptable! — Across the hallway— Kirishima digs his feet in, trying to hold people back. “Hey! Knock it off! Slow down—slow downnn!” Behind him— Kaminari is completely pinned against Kirishima’s back, his face blank. His voice comes out weak. “…Why is he so hard—” Kirishima twists slightly, confused even as he braces himself. “Huh?! I could ask you the same thing!” Another shove from the crowd slams them together. Kaminari’s eyes go completely dead. “…Kill me…” — Iida’s eyes dart across the chaos. No one understands… there’s no real danger! They’ve all given in to panic! Above the crowd— Uraraka floats, reaching down desperately, one hand on her mouth as she holds the urge to vomit. “…Iidaaa!” Iida looks up, eyes widening. “Uraraka!” For a split second— He hesitates. What would my brother do…? A beat. His jaw tightens. …What would Midoriya do? His expression hardens. At a time like this—! Iida’s eyes sharpen. Resolve. He adjusts his glasses— His arm shoots upward. “Uraraka-san! Make me float!” Uraraka’s expression hardens. She pulls him—activates her Quirk— causing her to fall and puke. Iida shoots upward. THUNK. His head hits the ceiling. His glasses slip—falling. He winces— Then moves. He hikes up his pant leg, exposing the engine. Engine… He kicks off the wall. Boost!! A burst— He rockets forward— Spinning wildly through the air— —and slams into the wall above the emergency exit. “Guh—!” He barely manages to grab onto a pipe, hanging there. A beat. Then— “EVERYONE! EVERYTHING IS FINE!” The noise stutters. Students look up. Iida clings to the pipe, upside down, completely undignified— voice booming with absolute authority. “It is merely the press! There is no cause for panic!” A sharp inhale. “We are students of U.A.!” His arm raises, pointing dramatically— “CONDUCT YOURSELVES IN A MANNER BEFITTING THIS GREAT INSTITUTION!!!” Silence. A beat. His blazer slowly slips down— and flops over his face. … The police arrived, and the reporters were driven away. Outside, entrance of U.A. — A policeman sprays a group of reporters with a handheld water sprayer. “Bad media! Bad!” “Hey! Watch the equipment!” Apparently, it was chaos. I was busy interviewing Hound Dog-sensei… so I remained cozy in the counselor’s office, when we were told it was just the press. “What’s your favorite dog food, as a professional opinion?” “…” If it weren’t for Iida… things could have ended much worse. — Scene cuts— Classroom. Momo stands at the front, composed. Beside her— Iida. Straight-backed. Proper. “—And that is why I believe Iida-san is better suited for the role of class president.” A brief pause. “I will step down and serve as vice president.” She inclines her head slightly. “I hope you can place your trust in us.” They bow. They straighten from their bow. Mina grins. “Hoho—look at Mr. Exit Sign glowing!” Kirishima pumps a fist. “Iida really showed his stuff back in the cafeteria!” Kaminari slumps over his desk, lifeless. “He was like a beacon of light… guiding us the way…” Aizawa lies cocooned in his sleeping bag, hair slightly disheveled, scarf loosely pooled around him. His eyes are dull. Dead. He takes a slow sip from his jelly drink like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. “…Whatever. Just get on with it. What a waste of time…” Iida adjusts his glasses, a faint, satisfied smile forming. “It can’t be helped… I will accept the position.” He steps forward slightly. “And lead us all toward greatness!” A beat— “Plus Ultra!” A few students raise their fists. “Exit Sign Iida, do your best!” What concerns me, however… was how the media got in. — Outside U.A.’s entrance— The steel barrier is gone. Not blown open. Not forced. Collapsed. Large sections have crumbled away entirely, the remaining metal jagged and uneven—like the structure simply gave up and fell apart. Nezu stands before it, hands clasped behind his back. Behind him— Recovery Girl. And the space-suited teacher. All silent. Observing. Nezu tilts his head slightly. “…No ordinary reporter could have done this.” A brief pause. His gaze lingers on the fractured remains. “Someone orchestrated this.” Another beat. “…An intentional disturbance.” His eyes shift to the others. “Did some evildoer slip inside?” Silence. Then— A small, almost pleasant smile. “Or…” A pause. “Are we witnessing the opening move of something larger?”