The morning of the UA entrance exam started like any other day—if you ignored the fact that my nerves were frayed to the point of snapping. I stood in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection like it might suddenly morph into someone who had even a shred of confidence. Spoiler alert: it didn't.

"Sweetie, breakfast is ready!" Mom's voice floated up from the kitchen, warm and full of love, as always.

I took a deep breath, ran a hand through my hair, and grabbed my backpack. The exam was today. This was it. The big moment. The culmination of years of dreaming, months of preparation, and, most recently, weeks of begrudgingly teaming up with Kacchan to survive this insanity.

"Coming!" I called back, heading downstairs.

The smell of miso soup and grilled fish greeted me as I entered the kitchen. Mom was bustling around, setting plates and bowls on the table, her face lit up with a mixture of pride and barely contained excitement.

"There's my future hero!" she said, beaming at me as she placed a heaping plate of food in front of my usual spot. "I made all your favorites! You need to eat a good meal before the exam."

"Thanks, Mom," I said, sitting down and trying to muster a smile.

She sat across from me, hands clasped together, her eyes shining with emotion. "I'm so proud of you, Izuku. You've worked so hard for this."

Hearing her say that sent a pang through my chest. I didn't have the heart to tell her about all the ridiculousness that had happened lately—magic cats, glittery transformations, accidentally recruiting Kacchan as a magical ballerina hero. Nope. That was staying in the vault.

Instead, I just nodded, focusing on my food. "Thanks. I'm... gonna do my best."

"You're going to do amazing!" she said, her voice filled with certainty. "You've always been so determined, so hardworking. UA would be lucky to have someone like you."

I blinked, feeling a lump form in my throat. "Thanks, Mom," I said again, softer this time.

She reached across the table, taking my hand in hers. "No matter what happens today, I want you to know how proud I am of you. You've grown so much, and I know you're going to do great things."

I squeezed her hand, feeling a mix of gratitude and guilt. I didn't deserve her unwavering faith, not after all the doubts swirling in my head. But her words gave me a small spark of courage—enough to get through breakfast, at least.

When we finished eating, Mom insisted on double-checking my bag to make sure I had everything I needed. "Notebook? Pencils? Erasers? Water bottle?"

"Yes, Mom," I said, smiling despite myself.

"And your lucky charm?" she added, holding up a small, handmade bracelet she'd given me when I was a kid.

I took it from her, tying it around my wrist. "Got it."

She nodded, satisfied, and then pulled me into a tight hug. "Good luck, Izuku. You're going to be amazing."

"Thanks, Mom," I said for the third time, my voice muffled against her shoulder.

As I stepped out the door, she stood in the doorway, waving and cheering. "Go get 'em, my little hero!"

I waved back, feeling a strange mix of embarrassment and warmth. Her support was like a safety net, catching me before I could fall too deep into my own doubts.

As I approached the corner where I usually met Kacchan—because, apparently, we were in some kind of unspoken "we don't talk about it but we're stuck with each other" agreement—I saw him leaning against a lamppost. Arms crossed, scowl already firmly in place, and his bag slung over one shoulder like he was too cool to use both straps.

"Oi, nerd, you're late," he barked the moment I was within earshot.

I checked my watch. "It's literally 7:03. We're early."

"Doesn't matter," he snapped, falling into step beside me as we started walking toward the station. "We've got one shot at this, and I'm not letting your dumbass screw it up."

Ah, yes, the classic Kacchan pep talk. Truly inspirational.

"Relax, Kacchan," I said, keeping my tone light. "I'm not planning to screw anything up. If anyone's gonna make a scene, it's probably you."

He shot me a glare that could've melted steel. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing," I said innocently, waving a hand. "Just, you know, your tendency to... explode first, ask questions later."

"I'll explode your face, you little—"

"Uh-huh. Sure," I cut him off, smirking.

He grumbled something under his breath, but I could tell he wasn't actually mad. This was just how Kacchan functioned—perpetually angry, yet weirdly cooperative when it really mattered.

We walked in silence for a bit, the early morning air cool and crisp around us. The streets were mostly empty, save for a few other students heading in the same direction.

"You ready for this?" Kacchan asked suddenly, his tone more serious.

I glanced at him, surprised. "Yeah, I think so. You?"

"Duh," he said, but there was a slight edge to his voice, like he was trying to convince himself.

I decided not to push it. Instead, I looked ahead, my mind already racing with thoughts of what the day would bring. The practical exam. The written test. The ridiculous pressure of proving myself worthy of UA.

And then, of course, there was the whole magical girl thing.

I snuck a glance at Kacchan, wondering if he was thinking about it too. Probably not. He was laser-focused on UA, as always. But for me, it was hard to ignore the fact that I had literal magic powers now. Powers that could turn my childhood bully into a glittery ballerina warrior at the snap of my fingers.

The thought made me grin.

"What the hell are you smiling about?" Kacchan growled.

"Nothing," I said quickly, wiping the grin off my face.

"Better not be laughing at me, Deku," he warned.

"Wouldn't dream of it," I said, though the corners of my mouth twitched.

We reached the station and boarded the train, the atmosphere growing heavier with each passing minute. Students around us were whispering about the exam, their nervous energy practically crackling in the air.

Kacchan sat beside me, arms crossed and eyes narrowed, like he was daring anyone to talk to him.

I pulled out a notebook, flipping through my notes one last time.

"You seriously gonna study now?" Kacchan asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Better safe than sorry," I said.

"Tch. Nerd," he muttered, but there was no heat in it.

As the train sped toward our destination, I couldn't help but feel a strange mix of anxiety and excitement. This was it. The first step toward becoming a hero.

And, if all went well, the first step toward turning Kacchan's life into a sparkly nightmare.