I have no powers, but I've got two hands and I know how to use them.

It had been a week since the U.A. entrance exam.

Seven days. One hundred sixty-eight hours. Over ten thousand minutes.And yeah, I'd felt every single one of them.

I was in my room, sitting on the floor, surrounded by tools, loose cables, and bits of scorched plastic. I had the same skates I'd used in the exam strapped to my feet, but now they were hooked up to a pair of compressed cylinders, with some new 3D-printed parts and other pieces adjusted by hand.

—Come on… —I muttered, using a small remote to trigger the mechanism.

Clack.

One of the wheels deployed smoothly, pushing out from the sole. The other one jammed halfway.

—Tch. Always the left one…

I checked the internal spring, readjusted a tiny bolt that looked a little bent, and tried again. This time, both wheels popped out at the same time with a soft, clean click. It wasn't as fast as I wanted yet, but it was progress. If I wanted to use them for walking too, I needed to retract and release the wheels with a single motion—without having to take the shoes off.

I stood up and walked a few steps around the room. The wheels stayed retracted, no accidental triggers. Good sign. Then I made the activation gesture.

Chak.

The wheels extended, my balance wobbled a little, but I stayed upright.

—That's it… —I smiled, mostly to myself.

For years I'd built and tested dozens of gadgets. Plenty of failures. Some straight-up exploded. Others didn't even work. But these skates… they'd worked in the field. Well, in the exam, at least. Still, I knew it wasn't enough. I'd done alright, sure, but those robots were targets designed for middle schoolers. Even students with flashy quirks could smash them without much trouble.

Maybe… it still wasn't enough.

I sat back down, carefully unstrapping the skates and setting them aside. Then I flopped backward onto the floor. The ceiling had a little water stain in one corner—I'd never noticed it before. I just stared at it, spacing out for a few seconds.

"What if I don't get in?"Maybe I scored enough points. Maybe not. But… what if the heroes decided letting someone without a quirk in was too risky? A bad influence? An unnecessary liability?

"What if they think I'm dead weight? Like I'm pushing myself to be something I wasn't born to be?"

I let out a long sigh… then yawned.

My body ached from being hunched over for so long. I stretched lazily and wandered out of my room.

Half-asleep, I went to the kitchen and set some water to boil. While I waited, I stretched like a drowsy cat and rubbed my eyes. The faint smell of coffee started filling the room. It helped. A little.

Then I remembered.

—The mail…

I shuffled over to the front door, still in my pajamas, one sock on, the other probably buried somewhere in my room. I opened the door and glanced toward the mailbox, my chest tightening a bit. Usually, I checked the mail without thinking much about it.

But today…

Today, there was a chance.

I walked over. There were a few supermarket flyers, a folded bill… and a white envelope.

Small. Simple. With the golden U.A. seal in the corner.

My fingers shook slightly as I pulled it out of the mailbox. I closed the door with my shoulder as I headed back to the kitchen. The water was ready, but I didn't care anymore.

I stared at the envelope like I could see the answer through the paper.

My heart pounded in my chest.My hands felt sweaty.My mouth was dry.

—Alright… here goes…

I slid my finger along the edge to open it.

Inside, there was a small circular device, something like a pocket projector.

I examined it closely.

Small, round, no obvious markings. Smooth, with a soft metallic texture. There was a single button on top, barely noticeable.

—This compact… —I muttered—. And it has a built-in projector? That's insane.

I walked over to the dining table—the clearest space in the apartment—and set it down in the middle. I pressed the button.

A soft beep sounded, and a blue light projected from the center of the device. Floating in midair, without the need for any solid surface, a hologram appeared.

—It doesn't need a flat base… —I whispered, impressed—. Interesting.

The figure that appeared caught me completely off guard.

—Is that… Principal Nezu?

Small, furry, with animal-like features, dressed in a neat suit and holding a teacup in his paw. His voice was high-pitched but clear, and he had that playful smile that always seemed to be hiding something.

—Greetings, young Tachibana. I am Nezu, principal of U.A. High School, —he said, giving a small nod—. First of all, allow me to congratulate you. You've been accepted into the Hero Course.

Something inside me instantly loosened. Like I'd been holding my breath all week and could finally exhale.

—Your performance on the written exam was more than satisfactory, though what truly stood out was your practical exam results, —he continued—. Not only did you take down the robots using unconventional strategies, but you also scored the highest point total in your group… and among all applicants.

I froze.

—…more points than everyone else?

I didn't say it arrogantly. It was pure shock. I… scored the highest?

—That includes rescue points, of course, —Nezu added, as if reading my mind—. During the evaluation, we award hidden points for rescuing fellow applicants in danger. In your case, you helped three students trapped under debris and pushed another out of the way of a robot without regard for your own safety. Very admirable.

I closed my eyes for a moment.

It wasn't like I saved them because I was a good Samaritan. I knew about the rescue points from the start. I knew beforehand.

But… they didn't have to know that.

—There was something else Power Loader mentioned to me —he said, folding his arms behind his back—. Apparently, you requested access to the Support Course materials, even before knowing if you'd be accepted.

I felt a slight tingle on the back of my neck.

—An unusual request. Not something we see from applicants. Especially not from those applying to the Hero Course.

Nezu turned slightly in place, like he was standing on some invisible stage.

—I'm no stranger to uncommon cases. In my experience, it's the students with the most unusual circumstances… who tend to have the greatest potential.

The image zoomed in a little.

—Your case, Riku Tachibana, is unique. You don't have a quirk, and yet you accomplished something that many others—with impressive abilities—couldn't. You used your intellect. Your tools. And your determination.

His words seemed to hang in the air like the echo of a bell that wouldn't fade.

—I don't know what brought you here, —he added more slowly—. But I'm curious to see what you'll do with this opportunity. That's why I decided to approve it.

He lifted his teacup in a small gesture, like a toast.

—See you on campus, future hero.

The projection flickered, then faded away, leaving only silence in the kitchen.

I stayed there, arms crossed, staring at the device.

Then, I sat down.

I leaned my head back against the chair, closed my eyes… and smiled.

I'd done it.

I got in.

No quirk.

No help.

Just my ideas, my effort… and a bit of knowledge borrowed from a past life.

—A hero, huh? —I said quietly—. Guess now the hard part begins.

I paused, glancing back at the projector still sitting on the table. I rubbed my chin, thoughtful. Something was forming in my head… maybe a new idea. But first, I needed coffee.

I stood up calmly and walked back into the kitchen. The water had gone cold, so I set it to boil again.

At last, I could enjoy a hot cup.

...

...

...

The day had finally arrived.

I was standing in front of the massive gates of U.A., the most prestigious hero academy in the country. I'd been here before—during the entrance exam, and also when I came to present a few of my inventions. But this time, it felt different. Now, I was officially a student.

I wore the standard uniform, freshly pressed, with my backpack slung over one shoulder—heavier than usual thanks to the gear I used during the exam. Except for the skates, of course.

Those I was wearing right now.

Thanks to the latest redesign, the wheels stayed hidden inside the soles, along with six small exhaust ports that I'd also fine-tuned. They no longer looked like something ripped from a sci-fi movie—just a sleek pair of black sneakers, clean and discreet.

My parents couldn't believe I'd actually gotten in.

When I showed them the acceptance letter, they thought it was fake. It took a while for them to accept it was real. My mom even called the school to verify it, while my dad just stared at me like I'd told him I won the lottery.

They'd let me take the entrance exam because they assumed I wouldn't make it. They thought it would be a good lesson. "Life doesn't just give you what you want," they told me. I guess they were projecting their own frustrations, like so many adults do.

But they never imagined I'd pass.

They never expected a kid with no quirk, who spent hours locked up in his room soldering things that smelled like burnt plastic, to actually make it. And not just get in—get accepted into the Hero Course.

And now, here I was.

Standing in front of the giant steel gates of the country's top academy. Watching other students walk through, excited, some already in groups, others by themselves. All of them carrying that same mix of ambition, nerves, and high expectations.

I was just another student among them.

Another student… but also, something a little different.

—Well… here we go —I muttered, stepping forward.