The sun filtered through the dense trees of the mountain woods, casting fractured shadows over the clearing where Takiomi Kessei stood alone. A full week had passed since the Hero Academia entrance exams, and the results were yet to be announced. But Takiomi wasn’t waiting idly.

  Sweat glistened on his skin as he trained relentlessly, pushing the limits of his strength and speed. He punched the air in quick, successive motions, then leapt into a spinning kick that cracked the bark off a nearby tree. His hands wrapped tightly around weighted rods, enhancing his grip strength, while resistance bands on his legs made every movement more demanding.

  With a focused breath, he summoned his sword—a black blade forged from pure shadow energy. It responded to him instantly, appearing in a burst of dark mist. He began swinging it in precise arcs, letting the rhythm of combat settle into his bones.

  Suddenly, a strange rustling sound came from the bushes nearby.

  Takiomi froze.

  He turned, eyes narrowed, and crept toward the source. Pushing aside the leaves, he grabbed a figure hiding behind them—a boy, younger than him, trembling.

  **"Who are you? Why are you spying on me?"** Takiomi demanded, gripping the boy’s collar.

  The boy was paralyzed, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of Takiomi’s aura. With shaking hands, he shoved a letter into Takiomi’s chest and then bolted, disappearing into the forest without another word.

  Takiomi unfolded the note. It had only an address and a name: **Toshiro Kazekabe**.

  Later that evening, after a quick bath, Takiomi followed the address. It led him to an old, abandoned mill on the outskirts of town. The building was decayed, covered in vines and forgotten by time.

  Without hesitation, he stepped inside.

  It was deathly quiet. As he walked deeper into the darkened space, a thin rope hidden beneath the floor caught his ankle. He stumbled—then snapped to alertness.

  Too late.

  His arms were pulled back and bound in an instant.

  From the shadows, several figures emerged, dressed in black gi and robes. Each one held a katana, their faces concealed by masks. Without a word, they lunged.

  Takiomi dodged the first strike, twisting his arms violently to break the rope binding him. His sword materialized midair as he called to it, just in time to deflect a slash aimed for his chest.

  The men moved with inhuman speed. One of them raised his blade high, and it suddenly erupted into a wave of searing flame. The air shimmered with heat.

  Takiomi’s own blade responded to the threat. It pulsed with darkness, a surge of shadow energy surrounding him. Their swords clashed in a violent burst of light and dark.

  Flames licked at his sleeves, but his power overwhelmed theirs.

  The flames died.

  The men stepped back, stunned.

  A slow clap echoed through the chamber.

  From the back of the mill, an old man stepped out, his silver beard swaying with each step. He looked to be in his sixties, yet his presence radiated strength.

  **"Impressive. You didn’t disappoint."**

  Takiomi raised his sword. **"Who are you?"**

  **"My name is Toshiro Kazekabe,"** the old man said calmly. **"And I’ve been waiting years for you, Takiomi."**

  Takiomi's brow furrowed. **"Then tell me. Who is Taki Omen? Why do I hear crowds cheering 'Omen! Omen!' in my dreams? Why does my sword talk to me in battle? Why does it mock me? Guide me?"**

  Toshiro's eyes softened. **"Because the person you once were—Taki Omen—was more than just a warrior. He was a symbol. But now\... you're something in between. To fully become yourself again, you must learn to communicate with your inner self. Meditate. Reflect. Master your darkness, or it will master you."**

  Takiomi said nothing, but the words lingered.

  Toshiro continued, his voice gentle yet firm. “You’re about to begin at a hero school, aren’t you? It’s a place where you’ll learn to harness your powers, where you’ll face both your enemies and your own demons. But remember this: true strength doesn’t come from just defeating others. It comes from understanding yourself, from accepting both your light and your shadow.”

  He paused, looking Takiomi in the eye, as if weighing his words carefully. “I suggest you take time to meditate. Every day. Reflect, center yourself. You need to communicate with your inner self, confront the darkness within you, and learn to control it, instead of letting it control you. The battle you’re facing isn’t just on the outside, Takiomi—it’s inside, in the core of who you are.”

  takiomi nodded slowly, his jaw set with determination, though uncertainty still clouded his thoughts. He was unsure whether he was ready for what lay ahead, but he knew he had no choice but to face it. The words from Toshiro felt like a compass pointing him in the direction he needed to go.

  “I’ll remember that,” Takiomi replied quietly. “I’ll work on it. I have to.”

  Toshiro gave him a single, meaningful nod. "Good. I have faith that you’ll figure it out. And remember... you’re not alone in this. Even if it feels like it sometimes.”

  With that, Toshiro turned, his figure blending into the shadows once again. Before he vanished completely, he added one final word.

  “Good luck, Takiomi. May your journey lead you to the hero you’re meant to become.”

  ---

  Two days later, the long-awaited results of the academia entrance exams were finally posted. The atmosphere in the air was thick with anticipation as students crowded around the bulletin board, eagerly scanning for their names. The list of those selected was long, but there was a short line under the Top Class category, where only a few students with the highest scores were listed.

  Takiomi stood at the back of the crowd, his eyes scanning over the names, his heart racing in his chest. Despite the calm exterior he always tried to maintain, the weight of what this selection meant was not lost on him. If he made it into the Top Class, it would be his chance to refine his abilities, to learn how to control the darkness within him—and maybe, just maybe, he would uncover more about his past.

  Then his eyes landed on the list, and his breath caught.

  Top Class... Takiomi Kessei.Takiomi Kessei had not only passed but had achieved the **highest score** among all applicants: **1,200 points**.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  When he returned home, his father and elder siblings stared in disbelief. His name was displayed on the leaderboard in bold: **Takiomi Kessei – Elite Class Top Candidate**.

  Around him, the buzz of excitement continued as students either celebrated or quietly groaned in disappointment. But for Takiomi, the moment felt different. It wasn’t just about the achievement—it was about what this opportunity meant. He wasn’t just one of the best. He was about to step into a world where his darkness, his inner conflict, would have a chance to be tested.

  A hand suddenly clapped him on the back, breaking his trance. Takiomi turned to find Officer Igarashi standing behind him, her white hair and trench coat a stark contrast to the excited crowd.

  “Congratulations, Takiomi,” she said with a smirk, though there was a glint of pride in her eyes. "I knew you had it in you. Now, don’t get too cocky. You’ve still got a long way to go."

  Takiomi gave her a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Thanks, Igarashi. I’m just... trying to figure out what comes next.”

  She raised an eyebrow, clearly understanding the weight of his words. “You’ll figure it out. But remember—this place is a challenge. It’s not just about your strength. It’s about your mind. And your heart.”

  Before he could respond, a loud voice called out from the front of the crowd, announcing that the orientation for Top Class students would begin the next day.

  Igarashi gave him a knowing look. "Looks like you're about to dive headfirst into something big. Don’t lose yourself."

  Takiomi nodded, his mind racing with the possibilities. As the crowd around him continued to buzz, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning—and the journey ahead would be far darker and more dangerous than he could ever imagine.

  Takiomi walked through the front door, the familiar warmth of home greeting him. The scent of his mother’s cooking filled the air, and the soft chatter of his siblings echoed from the living room. He could hear the sound of his mother’s voice as she hummed a tune, probably preparing dinner, while his elder siblings—Kenji and Yuka—were lounging around, discussing something with their usual bickering.

  The moment they noticed him, the chatter paused. His siblings, both in their second year at the academy, exchanged glances before looking at Takiomi. They noticed the piece of paper in his hand.

  “What’s that?” Kenji asked, tilting his head as he eyed the results.

  Yuka, ever the observant one, was the first to notice the look on his face. “Takiomi? What’s going on?”

  Takiomi stood in the doorway, momentarily caught off guard by the sudden attention. “I made it,” he said quietly, holding up the results. “I got into the Top Class.”

  There was a brief moment of stunned silence before his siblings exploded into reaction.

  “No way!” Yuka exclaimed, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Top Class? Are you serious?!”

  Kenji, who had always been the more laid-back of the two, gave a short laugh. “Takiomi, you’re going to be in the same school as us. But Top Class? You beat us by a landslide. Impressive.”

  Their reactions were mixed with awe and surprise. They weren’t just impressed by his achievement—they were genuinely shocked.

  “1,200 points...” Kenji muttered, shaking his head. “You’re practically a prodigy. Mom’s going to freak.”

  Takiomi’s mother, Miko, came into the room at that exact moment, wiping her hands on her apron. Her face lit up when she saw the paper in his hand. “Takiomi! Did you really—?”

  He nodded, handing her the results. She scanned it quickly, her eyes softening with pride. “You did it, son. I knew you could.”

  Miko pulled him into a tight hug, something he wasn’t used to, but he accepted it, feeling the warmth of her embrace. Her joy was contagious, and for a moment, he forgot about the weight of the dark thoughts clouding his mind.

  Kenji and Yuka, both in their second year at the academy, were also excited. “Guess we’ll be seeing you in class, Takiomi,” Yuka said with a grin, though there was a playful challenge in her voice. “Don’t get too full of yourself just yet. Top Class or not, we’ll show you the ropes. But don’t expect us to go easy on you.”

  Kenji gave his younger brother a teasing smile. “Yeah, don’t think just because you’re in Top Class you’ll get all the attention. The competition’s fierce, Takiomi.”

  Takiomi managed a faint smile, though his thoughts were already drifting elsewhere. “I’ll be fine. I have a lot to learn.”

  His mother, after letting go of him, placed a hand on his shoulder, her smile gentle but firm. “I’m proud of you, Takiomi. But remember—this is just the beginning. Don’t lose sight of what’s important. Keep your head on straight, and don’t let anything distract you from who you are.”

  Takiomi nodded, her words resonating deep within him. He knew what she meant. The journey ahead would be more than just about passing exams or gaining power—it was about finding his true self amidst the chaos.

  His family’s support, though, gave him a sense of grounding he hadn’t realized he needed. No matter what awaited him at the academy, they’d be there, cheering him on.

  ---

  The next morning, Takiomi stood tall in his brand-new elite class uniform. Black fabric trimmed in deep crimson, with silver plating across the shoulders and gauntlets. His sword was sheathed on his back, disguised to appear like a decorative relic.

  He walked through the academy gates once more—but this time, not as an applicant.

  This time, he was one of them.

  ---

  The next morning, the sun had barely risen over the horizon when Takiomi stood in front of the mirror, fastening the last button of his elite class uniform. The fabric felt heavier than he expected—not in weight, but in meaning. Midnight black with crimson accents and a silver emblem of the Hero Academia etched over the heart, it screamed prestige. Power. Responsibility.

  He adjusted the collar and took one last look at himself. His crimson eyes, once dull and unsure, now glimmered with something new—a quiet resolve.

  Downstairs, his mother was already packing his lunch with a proud yet tearful smile. “You look just like your father when he wore his old academy blazer,” she said, handing him the packed box. “Just… taller, and maybe a little more intimidating.”

  Takiomi gave a small smile. “Thanks, Mom.”

  Kenji and Yuka stood by the door, already dressed in their second-year uniforms. Yuka smirked and gave him a light punch on the arm. “Ready for the real thing, Top Class?”

  Kenji opened the door, light pouring in. “Hope you can keep up.”

  Takiomi stepped outside, the wind brushing through his hair. The world seemed louder today—alive. The academy loomed in the distance, a towering structure of steel and stone, like something pulled straight from a futuristic dream. But beneath its shine was an undercurrent of danger. He could feel it. Something was waiting.

  As the three siblings walked side by side toward the academy, whispers trailed behind them—other students pointing at the new recruit in the elite uniform.

  “That’s him. The guy who scored 1,200.”

  “No way... He doesn’t look that special.”

  “He’s the youngest one in Top Class.”

  takiomi kept walking, his expression unreadable. Let them talk. He wasn’t here to prove anything to them. He was here to confront whatever it was clawing inside him.

  And somewhere in the back of his mind... the voice of his sword chuckled quietly.

  “So... this is the path you’ve chosen, boy? Good. Let’s see how long you last before the darkness swallows you whole.”

  through the entire corridor all eyes were on takiomi kessei students whispered "now way he's only a first year",

  "bro he looks like a complete war mashine",

  ignoring them all takiomi enters his classroom

  Class 1-Ω.

  The door slid open.

  The moment he entered, the chatter died down. Dozens of eyes turned toward him—curious, judging, admiring.

  He ignored them.

  But then he hears a familiar sound but not recognizable

  "Long time no see, Omen."

  The voice came from the far corner of the room. Takiomi froze.

  He turned toward the source and saw him.

  A boy with snow-white hair. Calm. Smirking.

  In that instant, something inside Takiomi clicked.

  A burning sensation in his skull. A memory that wasn’t fully his—flashing images, broken voices, and a name...

  D-D-Draven... Draven Umbra.

  His breathing slowed.

  His sword, resting inside him, pulsed—almost as if in warning.

  The past... was beginning to claw its way back.

  Takiomi’s heart raced. The name Draven Umbra echoed through his mind like a drumbeat, relentless and deafening. His eyes locked onto the white-haired boy, who remained eerily calm, watching him with that same knowing smirk.

  But then—

  "I’ve been waiting for you too, Takiomi."

  The words sent a chill down his spine.

  Before Takiomi could react, the door to the classroom slammed shut, and the lights flickered. An ominous energy filled the room, making the air feel thick, suffocating. A shadow moved in the corner of his vision—too fast for him to catch.

  A voice echoed in his head, deep and mocking, as if it had never left.

  "You don’t remember me, do you? That’s fine… You will soon."

  Takiomi’s grip on his sword tightened as the classroom darkened, and the air grew colder.

  And then, out of nowhere—

  A sudden crash erupted from the far side of the room.

  A figure cloaked in darkness appeared, rushing straight toward him.

  "No time for answers now. You’ll soon understand who you are, Omen."

  The figure lunged, and Takiomi was forced to react, his instincts kicking in.

  But as he raised his blade—

  A blinding light flashed.

  To be continued...

  end ch-4