My Hero Academia Symbol of Hope (DC x MHA)

An Awakeneing

The five students of Class 1-A moved with focused caution through the concrete jungle. Pipes crisscrossed overhead, and steam hissed from vents as if the whole arena was holding its breath.

Izuku Midoriya led the charge, muscles tensed under his support gear. His breath was calm, but his thoughts were not.

"I can't speak once we're engaged—not with Shinso on their side. One word, one slip, and it's over. And if One For All... misfires again..."

He flexed his hand instinctively, remembering the uncontrollable surge from before. The memory was as real as the concrete under his boots. The black tendrils, the sensation of being watched from within.

He clenched his fists.

"No. Not now. I have to control it. I will control it."

Suddenly—

A firm hand touched his shoulder.

"Hey."

He turned and looked into Kara Yagi's confident, smirking face. Her cape fluttered behind her in the wind, her expression radiating calm strength.

"Don't psych yourself out, Izuku. You've trained harder than anyone here. One For All is your Quirk. Don't be afraid of it."

Midoriya blinked, stunned by the straightforward encouragement.

Then he chuckled softly, the tension melting just a little from his shoulders.

"You sound like Kai."

Kara grinned.

"What can I say? I'm the little sister of Superman, remember?"

Midoriya shook his head, smiling more genuinely now. "Right... How could I forget?"

With that, the two powerhouses of Class 1-A surged forward together, side by side.

The calm before the storm had ended.

Now came the reckoning.

While Class 1-A moved like a practiced unit through the field, Class 1-B's final team stood hidden behind a stack of steel beams, concealed by shadows and silence. A light mist of condensation curled up from nearby pipes, hissing like snakes in the cold.

Neito Monoma leaned back against a girder, arms crossed, his eyes narrowed in thought—but not in his usual arrogant way. There was something quieter about him. A stillness.

He looked at Hitoshi Shinso, who was checking the receiver on his capture gear. The boy's calm focus only seemed to stir something inside Neito.

"Shinso," Neito began.

Hitoshi turned his head slightly, not pausing his gear check.

"When I was younger," Neito continued, "people told me I couldn't be a Hero. Not with my Quirk. Copying others? No raw strength. No flash. Just... imitation."

His voice wasn't bitter. It was subdued—like he was stating facts written on his bones.

"I bet you got the same looks I did. Same words. Same judgment. 'That's not a Hero's Quirk.' Right?"

Shinso glanced at him, curious but reserved. "Yeah," he muttered. "A lot."

Neito nodded, the faintest ghost of a grin on his lips.

"People like us... we don't have the luxury of innocence. Of idealism. We had to learn to fight smart. Be both the good guy and the trickster. Because pretending to be pure doesn't help you win against people like Midoriya... or Kara Yagi."