Class 1-A shuffled into Homeroom with the usual murmurs, a few yawns, and the occasional clash of overachieving energy and deeply average teenage exhaustion. Aizawa stood at the front of the class.

  “As you’ve probably guessed from the timing,” he said, voice dry, “the U.A. Sports Festival is coming up.”

  That got a visible reaction. Kaminari’s eyebrows shot up. Momo sat straighter. Kirishima grinned and thumped his fist lightly against his desk. Even Robinn, normally neutral in the mornings, looked more awake. A single eyebrow raised, she was definitely interested.

  Aizawa didn’t milk the moment. “You’ll be getting more details from other instructors later this week. For now, get through your work and training without turning them into a competition.”

  Sero and Kaminari exchanged glances, like that hadn’t already been the plan.

  By the time Modern History rolled around, the class buzzed with a different kind of nervous energy. Each group had a short slot to present their topic: “Legacy in Hero Society, Then and Now.” Everyone had their own flavor of nerves.

  Cementoss waited at the side of the room with a clipboard, nodding supportively. “You have about five minutes. Begin when ready.”

  The presentations went about how you’d expect. Some stumbled through their notes. Others read too fast. A few accidentally turned their report into a TED Talk. By the time Robinn’s group was up, the class had settled into that dazed, patient state that only long group projects can induce.

  They walked to the front. Midoriya practically vibrated. Iida adjusted his tie with mechanical determination. Uraraka smiled, clearly trying to settle everyone’s nerves. Robinn, on the other hand, looked steady and calm, not nervous at all.

  Their report was on Crimson Riot.

  Kirishima had almost fallen out of his chair from excitement when he heard that.

  Midoriya had originally pushed for All Might. Loudly and passionately. But Iida and Uraraka steered the group elsewhere, arguing they should pick someone less obvious. Robinn hadn’t fought it. She just shrugged and said, “Crimson Riot’s metrics were consistent across his active years. He’s a good choice.”

  Midoriya started them off. He rattled through Crimson Riot’s early years, hero licensing process, and media appearances. He cited percentages, ultimate moves, and case studies. He didn’t need his notes.

  He ended with a nice phrase. “And even though his numbers weren’t top-tier, the public trust index during his peak years was one of the highest recorded for an independent hero.”

  Iida followed, voice bright and dramatic, like a theater kid with a cause. “He fought not for recognition, but for the protection of others! His belief in chivalry shaped a generation, reminding civilians and heroes alike that bravery is action, not image.”

  Uraraka went next. She kept it simple, talking about the emotional weight of being saved, how Crimson Riot reminded people that heroes could still care without being perfect. She didn’t project like Iida or rattle like Midoriya, but she was honest. And that held the room better than any stat.

  Then Robinn stepped forward.

  Her segment was smooth, sharp, and evenly paced. No stutters, no filler words, not a single glance at her notes.

  “Crimson Riot’s public messaging strategy increased community compliance by 4 percent year over year. While his Quirk was not flashy, his consistency and engagement reinforced the value of endurance-based tactics. His legacy suggests a model of heroism that prioritizes symbolic constancy and moral clarity. This improves psychological retention in civilian populations.”

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  She stopped cleanly at the five-minute mark.

  Silence.

  Cementoss scribbled something, then smiled. “Very thorough. Your group delivered a strong narrative, and each of you brought something different to the table.”

  Then, more thoughtfully, “Robinn, your section was technically excellent. But consider varying your tone more. It’ll help your points land stronger with a general audience.”

  She nodded. “Understood.”

  They returned to their seats. The next group shuffled up.

  Uraraka leaned in casually. “You were super smooth up there. Were you nervous at all?”

  Robinn blinked. “Not really, I guess.”

  “Right... yeah. Just checking.”

  After the class ended, Midoriya, still brimming with leftover enthusiasm, walked up to Robinn’s desk.

  “You really emphasized the practical outcomes of Crimson Riot’s actions. But what do you think about his philosophy? Like the whole ‘chivalry’ thing?”

  Robinn tilted her head, then spoke a bit more eagerly.

  “Symbolism has motivational value. But the utility of emotional frameworks depends on execution. Heroism requires consistency more than rhetorical identity.”

  Midoriya stared. “Oh. Uh... right.”

  Then she continued. “But when done right, it can be very effective. Take All Might for example. Just his presence has made crime drop significantly.”

  Midoriya perked up at the mention of All Might. He hadn’t really talked about heroes with Robinn before. Didn’t even know her favorite.

  “You like All Might too?” he asked enthusiastically.

  She replied casually. “Well, it’s hard to find someone who doesn’t. But not him especially.”

  “Oh... so who’s your favorite hero then?” he said again, still enthusiastic.

  She looked frozen for a moment, then answered. “I don’t really have a favorite... really. If it’s in terms of solved cases, I’d say Endeavor. It just depends on different metrics.”

  Midoriya looked puzzled. “Oh, okay then... Well, it was nice working with you!”

  She smiled and nodded. He went back to his seat and waited for the next class.

  After school, the rhythm resumed. Students packed up and headed out. Robinn moved with her usual efficiency, bag slung over one shoulder.

  Kirishima caught up with her right away. “Hey! That was a cool presentation.”

  She gave a polite nod. “Thank you.”

  “Didn’t expect Crimson Riot. He’s not that well known nowadays. Thought Midoriya was gonna burst a blood vessel fighting for All Might.”

  “He did try, but Iida and Uraraka stopped him,” Robinn said with a smile.

  Kirishima chuckled. “And you didn’t stop him?”

  “Not really. I didn’t care much who we chose, but I did prefer it not being All Might,” she replied sheepishly.

  Kirishima looked a little disappointed. He’d thought he found another Crimson Riot fan. “So you’re not a fan of Crimson?”

  “Well, I do look up to his endurance. I’d love to be that sturdy someday. My Quirk really drains me.” She stopped for a moment, then asked, “Is Crimson Riot your favorite hero? You seemed pretty excited while we were presenting.”

  Kirishima’s eyes lit up and he gave a beaming grin. “Sure as hell he is! The manliest hero there is. He’s been my idol since forever.” He paused, suddenly serious. “My hero name is actually going to be Red Riot, in homage to his.”

  Robinn looked surprised. “You already picked your hero name?” she said as they turned a corner toward the main entrance.

  Kirishima looked even more surprised. “You haven’t?”

  “Uh, nope. I don’t even have a hero costume in mind, to be honest.”

  He stared. “I thought you had to design one before even getting into U.A.?”

  “Yeah. I just used the sports uniform we usually wear. Believe it or not, it’s tough for me to pick clothes.”

  “Can’t decide or something?” Kirishima asked, leaning forward a bit as they walked.

  She chuckled. “It’s not that. Haven’t you noticed that when I use my Quirk, my shoes almost always fall off?”

  “Oh yeah, I did notice that.”

  “Well, it’s because I have a specially made uniform. Some of my clothes too. They’re made out of my hair fibers.”

  He blinked. It was an outlandish claim.

  “It’s so they transform with me. If I wore normal clothes, they’d just fall off when I shift into something non-solid.”

  Kirishima looked even more surprised. A bit flustered too. “Yeah, that would be bad. Good thinking!”

  They walked together until the fork between the gym and the school gates. Kirishima slowed down when Robinn didn’t turn toward the gym.

  “Since when do you not train after school?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Robinn blinked, then came to a stop. “Oh. My dad’s picking me up for a family thing today. Good luck with training though.”

  Kirishima blinked back. It was the first time she’d mentioned anything remotely personal. “Oh. Okay then. Have fun... see you tomorrow!”

  That have fun made her hesitate. Her gaze dipped slightly. “Bye,” she said quietly, turning away.

  Kirishima’s brow furrowed. Did he say something wrong? She was hard to read sometimes. Either way, he still had training to do.

  He turned and headed toward the gym, glancing over his shoulder once. Robinn walked toward the gates at a steady pace. A sleek black car pulled up just after she exited U.A., the kind that didn’t show plates. She got in without hesitation.

  Kirishima watched it drive off for a second longer than he needed to. Then he shook his head and jogged the rest of the way to the gym.