I sat at the kitchen table, the aroma of miso soup drifting from the stove as Mom hummed softly, her back turned to me. Everything about the moment felt peaceful—normal—until she turned around, holding a crisp, white envelope in her hands.

Inko: "Izuku, this came for you this morning. It's from Nezu."

The mention of his name made me freeze mid-bite, the spoonful of rice hovering in front of my mouth. Mom placed the envelope carefully on the table, her smile warm but knowing, like she already had an idea of what was inside.

Me: "From Nezu? What's it about?"

I set down the spoon and reached for the envelope. The weight of it in my hands felt heavier than it should have, like it carried something life-altering inside.

Inko: "Why don't you open it and find out?"

She sat down across from me, watching intently. Her gaze held that mix of pride and encouragement she always had when she believed I was on the cusp of something big.

I broke the seal and unfolded the letter, my eyes scanning the neat, typed words. It didn't take long to realize what it was—a recommendation letter, handwritten by Nezu himself, granting me direct entry into UA's hero course. My chest tightened as I read the words over and over, disbelief and a swirl of emotions crashing over me.

Me: "It's... a recommendation letter. Nezu's giving me a spot in the hero course. Again."

Mom's eyes lit up with excitement, her hands clasping together.

Inko: "Oh, Izuku, that's wonderful! I knew Nezu believed in you. He's giving you every opportunity to succeed!"

I stared down at the letter, my grip tightening. It wasn't that I wasn't grateful—how could I not be? Nezu had already gone out of his way to make this possible for me, to believe in me when so many others hadn't. But something about it didn't sit right.

Me: "Mom, I don't know if I can accept this."

Inko blinked, her smile faltering slightly as she leaned forward.

Inko: "What do you mean, Izuku? This is everything you've worked for. You deserve this."

I shook my head, the knot of uncertainty growing tighter in my chest.

Me: "It just... doesn't feel right. Everyone else in the hero course will have fought for their spot, gone through the entrance exam. And I'll just... show up with a letter? What does that say about me?"

Inko frowned, her concern evident as she reached across the table to place a hand on mine.

Inko: "Izuku, you've already proven yourself. Nezu sees your potential, and he's giving you this chance because he knows you're ready. You don't have to prove anything to anyone else."

I pulled my hand away gently, running it through my hair in frustration.

Me: "But I do, Mom. To myself. If I just take this spot without earning it, how can I stand next to people like Kaito, who'll have to fight tooth and nail to get in? How can I call myself a hero?"

Her expression softened, and she leaned back in her chair, giving me a moment to process.

Inko: "Izuku... you've always been your harshest critic. I know how much this means to you, but taking this opportunity doesn't make you any less of a hero. It just means Nezu believes in you enough to make sure you have every chance to succeed."

Her words made sense, as they always did. But the thought of walking into UA, knowing I hadn't faced the same challenge as everyone else, left a bitter taste in my mouth.

Me: "I just... I want to take the entrance exam, Mom. I want to earn my place, like everyone else."

Mom sighed, a mix of pride and exasperation on her face.

Inko: "You're so much like your father sometimes. Stubborn to a fault. It's a shame he can't see you now...."

She smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from my face.

Inko: "If that's what you want, Izuku, then I support you. But you need to promise me something."

I looked up, meeting her gaze.

Me: "What is it?"

Inko: "If you decide to take the exam and things don't go the way you hope... promise me you'll give yourself the grace to take Nezu's offer. Don't let your pride keep you from your dream."

Her words hit me hard, and I nodded slowly, the weight of the promise settling over me.

Me: "I promise, Mom."

She smiled again, squeezing my hand.

Inko: "That's my boy. Whatever you choose, I'll always be proud of you."

I folded the letter carefully and set it aside, the path ahead of me clearer but no less daunting. The entrance exam loomed like a mountain I had to climb, but for the first time, I felt ready to face it. Not because I had to, but because I wanted to.