BNHA: Darkness and Tremor

After the director's announcement, many of the younger children became excited. Although their Quirks weren't as powerful as Kata's or Sino's, if they could train from an early age, they might become professional heroes.

Additionally, with Kata and Sino attending U.A., they might even recommend some of the younger kids for the exams in the future.

That made many of them ecstatic, and they began to celebrate—completely forgetting to cheer for Kata.

After delivering the news, the director, Kageyama Soma, smiled as he watched the children excitedly discussing and planning their futures as heroes.

Everything seemed fine—but Arata didn't think so. He might not know much about the world, but as an orphan, Arata understood all too well that investments in orphanages were incredibly rare. Not due to a lack of people wanting to help, but because the government intervened too much in such matters.

Back during the **Pre-Quirk Era**, orphanages in Japan—or child care institutions as they were called—were funded by the government and operated in partnership with NGOs or with financial backing from wealthy philanthropists.

However, when Quirks began to emerge, some of these organizations started abusing their positions to gather sensitive information and launched global adoption/sale schemes involving children with powerful Quirks.

By the time the government realized what was happening, many of the strongest Quirked children had already been relocated to other countries. This triggered a major diplomatic crisis between global powers and led to the arrest of many influential people at the time.

It was a huge scandal—one that could've grown even worse if not for internal crises in many countries, several of which faced similar issues. Overpopulated developing nations like India, Brazil, and Pakistan were among the hardest hit by Quirk trafficking.

To prevent powerful Quirked orphans from being taken away, governments—not just Japan's, but worldwide—immediately banned all private support to orphanages. They enacted strict laws that made it nearly impossible for foreign nationals to adopt and prohibited adoptive parents from leaving the country with their children. The goal was to avoid the potential loss of superhuman individuals.

Naturally, this sparked widespread public backlash, with many claiming that the government was violating basic human rights and denying children the chance at a better life. But the government stood firm.

At first, the new system worked fine. But soon, as always, state inefficiency and corruption scandals at various government levels started to surface. This forced many children to live on the streets to survive. Some became dangerous criminals. Others didn't even make it to adulthood.

Still, the government refused to revise the laws, insisting that this was "in the best interest of the children." In truth, the government couldn't even support all the kids in the country and was already struggling with rising taxes, inflation, and skyrocketing violence.

Over time, restrictions on private support for child care institutions began to loosen. Eventually, when the situation became unsustainable, private orphanages began to reappear.

However, it was obvious that the government still wasn't willing to take major risks.

To prevent a repeat of past events, new restrictions were added. For instance, only children under the age of four—or those who hadn't developed their Quirks yet—could be adopted by regular families.

The official reason was to prevent people from adopting children just to exploit their Quirks for personal gain.

Initially, this caused controversy. But that quickly died down when several reports emerged of adopted children being forced into brutal training regimens in hopes of becoming pro heroes.

One particularly well-known case was that of the villain publicly known as **Zero**. Zero was an orphan adopted by parents who wanted him to become a hero. His Quirk allowed him to create and manipulate ice—a remarkable power for that time.

But when Zero was adopted, he didn't receive love or affection. Instead, he underwent brutal training. From the age of five to fifteen, he was forced into regimens that would've broken most children.

It only stopped when he finally snapped—killing his adoptive parents and over a dozen civilians and minor heroes—before being stopped by **Kuma**, a hero from that era.

Zero was eventually arrested, and not long after, rumors spread that he died in prison. Some claimed it was suicide. Others said he received a presidential pardon and now works for the Public Safety Commission. Still others believed he was killed by a notorious villain.

In the end, the truth didn't matter. What mattered was that after Zero's case, the adoption system became even more strict, and children with powerful Quirks started being closely monitored.

Most children with strong Quirks, shortly after their awakening, were sent to government-funded and operated foster homes, where they were rarely adopted by regular families. These children typically grew up in tightly controlled environments, with access to good schools and some government-provided benefits.

Upon graduation—depending on their Quirk, academic performance, and a few other factors—they might be offered a job with the Public Safety Commission, receiving high salaries. After all, to the government, powerful individuals were always in demand.

A second option was to apply themselves and get accepted into a hero academy. This path was harder, but with strong Quirks and government support, many gained admission to various hero training programs.

Only private institutions like **U.A.**, **Shiketsu**, **Ketsubutsu**, and a few other prestigious academies denied direct access to these children, stating that they needed to pass the exams just like anyone else.

Naturally, this angered the government. But there wasn't much they could do. These schools were not only highly respected—they were also responsible for training around 60% of the country's most powerful and influential heroes. And the principal of U.A. himself was a nightmare for the government when he wanted to be.

Of course, some children took the third and worst path—becoming villains. They were rare, but they existed.

And lastly, there was the fourth route—choosing to live a quiet life as a regular citizen, far from the chaos of heroes and villains.

As for the other children—those without powerful or promising Quirks—they were kept in private orphanages run by retired heroes, like the one where Arata lived.

Kageyama Soma was once a relatively popular hero. He founded this institution primarily to care for children who were victims of villain attacks, but over time, he began taking in kids from all over.

Privately owned child care institutions typically competed with one another for government funding.

Even with the approval of private institutions and philanthropists, it was ultimately the state that decided where those funds would be allocated.

Soma had his connections within the Hero Commission, so he always received a decent amount to keep things running.

But Arata didn't believe that alone would be enough to secure additional investment—especially not from someone with the authority to grant Quirk usage permissions.

"Could it be because of Kata and Sino?" Arata wondered as he stared at the television, but quickly dismissed the thought. Kata and Sino had only made their public debut today. Before that, they were complete unknowns.

Sure, they might have been noticed when they enrolled at U.A., but even then, it was just as students from the General Course—Class 1-D, no less.

No, these people—these investors—had been keeping an eye on the orphanage for some time, and they definitely had plans for it.

The only question now was what those plans were.