Chapter Text
Izuku entered the entrance hall, letting the crystal doors slowly close behind him. He raised an eyebrow, impressed by the size and opulence of the building—its grandeur already apparent from the entrance.
“They really don’t waste time showing the difference between psychics and those with other Quirks,” he thought.
With each step, the almost playful beauty of the place revealed itself before his eyes: the white ceramic floor, designed with a large golden sun spreading across it; the white pillars that shimmered in gilded waves as Izuku’s gaze rose toward the ceiling, painted like the cosmos. And in the center of it all hung a huge golden chandelier, its crystals shaped like moons and stars descending in a spiral that tapered until it almost brushed the heads of those who passed beneath it.
When he reached the front hallway, it was even wider—decorated with angelic statues whose faces were modeled after famous telepaths throughout history. Violet windows lined the right wall, and the floor now displayed black moon designs in a long, elegant line.
To the right, red wooden counters were adorned with golden branches, where attendants worked efficiently. To the left, white beanbag chairs and sofas stretched to the end of the hall. Most of the candidates sat on them, while others sprawled wherever they could. Some preferred to remain standing, leaning against the white marble wall with yellow scribbles. A few came and went through the hallways—some with books, others with cell phones—but none uttered a sound.
Izuku went to one of the ottomans and sat down, crossing his legs before adjusting a strand of hair. Every move he made was being watched by several people who hadn’t taken their eyes off him since sensing his telepathic response. Now they stared at the freckled man dressed in extravagant, expensive-looking clothes.
“A rich little faggot, huh? Who does he have under his control to afford all this luxury?” thought a young, blue-eyed redhead with a smile that betrayed his arrogance. “Though I can’t really judge—I've got a few sycophantic old ladies in my pocket. Hmph. And they still think telepaths aren’t at the top of the pyramid.”
He leaned back on the sofa, resting his legs on a beanbag chair as he ran his hand over his brown suit jacket, checking for wrinkles. Finally, he straightened his magenta dress shirt.
— *So... that’s where that warning came from. Good telepaths know how to keep to themselves and deceive their rivals. A classic technique. But he didn’t do that. He just shook his sleeves and showed everyone here that he’s strong.* — thought a short-haired, pink-eyed blonde teenager with a piercing gaze and a cunning smile.
*If he passes this test, things at U.A. could get very interesting. But... I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want him to fail. Just look at his face—you can tell he’d do anything for his goals.*
She gently rose from the ottoman she’d been sitting on and walked away, hands clasped behind her yellow flowered dress, her watchful gaze lingering.
Izuku, however, watched the movement with little interest. He pulled his white iPhone 15 Pro Max from his pocket and started scrolling through the week’s latest news.
Endeavor’s company was enjoying its best days, with an increase in applicants across various positions following the heroes’ recent successes under the No. 2 hero’s leadership. Hero gossip sites reported that the U.A. practical test examiners were excited about the powerful new batch of students who had displayed their Quirks during the robot battle in the mock city. Two sites highlighted Katsuki Bakugou—one of the country’s highest-paid young models—who had disintegrated a colossal robot the size of a building with a single fiery arrow. Other videos showed All Might’s latest rescues, confirming that the No. 1 hero was back in town.
“Uhmm...” Izuku smiled slightly.
“*Excuse me, Mr. Izuku Midoriya?*”
Izuku looked up, following the attendant’s light, husky telepathic voice, and saw him smiling behind one of the counters.
“Yes?” he replied telepathically, standing up and walking smoothly to the counter. Little by little, he understood the reason for the silence in this place.
“*Examiner Ikaro is already waiting for you... in room seven. Just go ahead and turn the corner.*”
The attendant—no older than a young adult with a blue mohawk and moss-green eyes—had a faint blush on his cheeks. Clearing his throat, he added, “*And... you’ll have to put your phone on silent when you go in there.*”
Izuku studied him for a moment, noticing how the boy’s dark skin contrasted with his white low-neck shirt, revealing a bit of chest hair; how the black denim jacket accentuated the strong muscles in his arms; the necklace with a small lion medallion half-hidden by his collar; and finally, the little plaque beside the computer bearing his name: **Ikki**.
Izuku smiled. “I see. Thank you...”
He started down the hallway, glancing back briefly. “Ikki.”
He could still see the blush deepen on the boy’s cheeks—and caught a few of his more sordid thoughts. Izuku quickly broke the telepathic connection and mused, already approaching the hallway:
*When emotions surface, psychic barriers weaken. It becomes easier for any telepath to pierce another’s mind—to extract their thoughts, their ideas, or even plant suggestions that later grow into desires. And this applies to me as much as to him. But he knew that.*
He turned the corner and observed the silver cords hanging from the ceiling, walking over the glittering floor painted with pink, violet, and blue nebulae, until he reached the white door labeled *7.*
“Well, anyway... sex with him must be pretty wild,” he thought, giving a slight, mischievous smile before opening the door.
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