Aizawa Shōta was known across U.A. as a man with harsh standards for his students who would not hesitate to expel anyone who didn't meet them. Just this past year, he had expelled every one of the students in his class because not one of them had what it took to be a hero. Contrary to popular belief, though, it wasn't simply because he was a hardass. No, he refused to allow any of his students to be hurt. And he would much rather crush his students' illusions now than let them get hurt later because of them.

Which was why the Hagakure family's request shook him to the bone.

"Pretend not to see Tōru. She needs to believe she's invisible."

He'd come to deliver Hagakure Tōru's acceptance letter personally and congratulate her on being the first person to pass the U.A. Entrance Exam without a Quirk. But, according to her parents, she believed she had one.

"Why does she need to think that?" Aizawa asked, surreptitiously pushing a button on his sleeve. He could understand lies when they were designed to force a student to push their limits. For instance, when he administered the first years' initial Quirk Assessment tests, he frequently threatened to expel the last-place student so all of them would be trying their hardest. (Of course, if the test showed a student had no potential, as he was certain it would with Midoriya in a few months, he wouldn't hesitate to follow through.) Somehow, though, he didn't think this was that kind of lie.

"Quirkless kids are frequently subjected to bullying, resulting in massively increased rates of depression and suicide compared to children with quirks," her father explained. "I experienced that myself, and I was lucky to find a doctor to help me get better. I didn't want my daughter to have to deal with that, so we told her she'd inherited her mother's quirk and got everyone at school to go along with it.."

That, he could understand to a degree. Unfortunately, there were a number of problems with that plan. Problems he wasn't willing to ignore. However, they weren't likely to allow him to see their daughter unless he seemingly acquiesced. Pressing the button again, Aizawa nodded, crossing the fingers of his other hand as he did so. "All right. I understand that. Where is Tōru?"

The mother turned and called upstairs, "Tōru! Someone's here to see you!"

"Coming, Mom!" A voice replied. Soon, a teenaged girl with short black hair, an angular face, and a pink dress came down the stairs into the living room.

Aizawa turned up to greet her. "Hagakare Tōru. I'm Professor Aizawa from U.A. High. I have good news and bad news for you. Which do you want to hear first?"

Hagakare-shoujo didn't hesitate. "The bad news first. That way, the good news can cheer me up!"

Aizawa wasn't sure if anything could cheer her up after this, but it had to be done. He moved his fingers down and pressed another button.

Her father's voice could be clearly heard in the recording. "Quirkless kids are frequently subjected to bullying, resulting in massively increased rates of depression and suicide compared to children with quirks. I experienced that myself, and I didn't want my daughter to have to deal with that, so we told her she'd inherited her mother's quirk and got everyone at her school to go along with it."

The man himself clenched his fist and turned to Aizawa. "I NEVER GAVE YOU PERMISSION TO RECORD ME OR TELL HER!"

"I'm the pro hero Eraserhead," Aizawa replied. "I don't need your permission. Not when the matter is so important to your child's wellbeing."

"WE KEPT IT FROM HER FOR HER WELLBEING!"

Had the man forgotten his daughter was listening to every word he said?

"And how were you going to convince the villains she'd be fighting to play along?"

Hagakure-san may have been Quirkless, but Aizawa didn't need his Quirk to fix him with such an intense gaze that he lost his nerve.

"All it takes is one person, and she'd get hurt because she assumed she was hidden when she wasn't. Better to tell her now than let that happen, since she's so determined to be a hero."

Loud sniffles and crying came from the side. Hagakure-shoujo was holding herself as tears rolled down her cheeks. "I-I thought I was special like Mommy. That I could be a ninja hero with my Quirk." She paused to take a handkerchief out of her purse and blow her nose, than continued. "But no. You've been lying to me my whole life! All the boys have seen me naked because you told me they couldn't see me! How am I supposed to be a hero like this?"

"That's the good news," Aizawa cut in. "You can be."

"How?"

"Eight thousand people applied to the U.A. Hero Course last week. Despite your lack of a Quirk, Hagakure-shoujo, you recognized the robots' weak spots and didn't hesitate to exploit them. Plus, you went out of your way to save others from the robots. Only the top 36 across both the written and practical entrance exams were accepted into U.A., and a Quirkless person has never done well enough to claim one of those spots. Until now.

"Hagakure-shoujo, you are the first Quirkless hero U.A. has ever accepted. That alone makes you special."

Hagakure looked up. "You really mean it?"

"You'll need to learn your limits. There are times when your lack of a Quirk means you won't be able to do as well as those who have one. However, you have more potential to be a hero than my entire homeroom put together." He wasn't exaggerating there, either. Granted, pretending you were the only person in existence would still be better than that class had been, which was why he'd expelled the lot, but Hagakure had been a single point away from making it into the top 10 and had done better in individual categories than several of the people who did make it there. "Quirks aren't everything. With the proper equipment and training, you'll ve certain to make it as a pro.

"Hagakure, welcome to your hero academia."

He barely managed to catch her before she hit the ground.