CHAPTER 128: Bridges Across Time
Morning light stretched across U.A. High in long, quiet bands of gold.
Izuku paused in the hallway for just a moment, fingers resting lightly on the frame of the classroom door. The building smelled new—polished floors, fresh paint, something faintly metallic from updated support equipment—but beneath it lingered something familiar. Resolve. Hope. The kind that never fully faded from this place, no matter how many times it had been broken and rebuilt.
“Alright,” he murmured to himself, steady and calm. “Let’s begin.”
He stepped inside.
The room settled almost immediately—not because he demanded it, but because the students recognized the way he carried himself. This wasn’t the stiff reverence they showed visiting heroes. This was something quieter. Respect for someone who listened.
“Good morning,” Izuku said, smiling as he set his bag down. “Before we get into today’s lesson, I want to hear something from you.”
A few students exchanged glances.
He continued gently, “Yesterday’s rescue simulation—what was the hardest part?”
A hand lifted. Then another.
“The timing, sir,” one student admitted. “I panicked when things didn’t go according to plan.”
Izuku nodded. “That’s honest. Panic happens when reality diverges from expectation. What matters is what you do next.”
Another voice chimed in. “I kept thinking about failing instead of helping.”
He smiled again—soft, understanding. “That tells me you care. We’ll work on turning that concern outward, toward action.”
As he spoke, he felt the ambers of One For All, warm and steady beneath his ribs. No strain. No roar. Just presence. It responded to him the way a trusted companion did now, aligned with who he had become rather than who he once feared he wasn’t strong enough to be.
The bell rang, signaling the end of the period. Chairs scraped lightly as students gathered their things.
One lingered at the door. “Midoriya-sensei… is it true you fought in the war?”
Izuku met the student’s gaze. He didn’t deflect, but he didn’t glorify it either.
“I was there,” he answered. “Along with a lot of people who don’t get enough credit.”
The student nodded slowly, thoughtful. “Then… thank you.”
Izuku watched him leave before exhaling quietly.
Between classes, Izuku remained at his desk while the hallway outside filled with the easy noise of students changing periods. Footsteps, laughter, a teacher calling out a reminder about homework—ordinary sounds that still felt quietly miraculous.
He reached into his bag and took out the notebook.
The cover was worn now, its once-bright green dulled by years of handling. The corners were rounded, the spine softened. It had followed him through battles, hospitals, rebuilding sites, and now—classrooms. He opened it with care, as if the pages themselves carried weight.
They weren’t crowded anymore.
No frantic arrows. No breathless theories scribbled in margins. No desperate attempts to predict disaster before it struck.
Just clean handwriting. Steady lines. Thoughts written because they mattered, not because he was afraid to forget them.
Today, a student admitted fear instead of hiding it.
That takes courage.
YOU ARE READING
𝗥𝗜𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗦 ⌈𝐈⌔𝐌 ✗ 𝔽!𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹⌋
FanfictionBorn into a family of heroes, a girl with a water-manipulating quirk struggles to control her own power. Torn between her mother's shining legacy and her father's fears, she enters U.A. High determined to prove she belongs among the next generation...
