Dekiru 10: The Symbol Of Peace And The Protector Of Earth

Chapter 45: Final Day of Internships!

Izuku Midoriya became a sensation overnight. One moment, he was just another hero-in-training; the next, his name was on everyone’s lips.

The streets of Musutafu were alive with chatter, the energy electric as people gathered in clusters, their voices overlapping in excitement. Neon lights flickered above bustling intersections, trains rumbled on overhead tracks, and café televisions replayed grainy footage of Izuku Midoriya feats during the Sports Festival.

"You heard about that crazy kid who blew up three stadiums?!" a salaryman exclaimed as he scrolled through his phone, showing off a viral clip to his co-workers on the train.

"Three stadiums? Try scaring the living shit out of the fucking Hero Killer! Stain looked like he shit himself!" a teenager boasted to her friends near a vending machine, her voice carrying over the crowd.

"Nah, you’re all missing the moment—he straight-up marches into Seijaku Gakuen, busts down the doors, and tells Principal Goro, ‘Yo, square up, bitch!’" a college student laughed, practically reenacting the scene as his friends doubled over.

"Hold up—you mean the same kid who can change the weather with a single punch?" someone asked while passing by, their voice barely rising over the noise of a packed café.

"That’s him!" a girl confirmed, eyes glued to a clip playing on a massive digital billboard of Heatblast. "Took on an entire school without breaking a sweat."

"The Heatblast form? Insane. He turned half the training field into molten lava."

"And Fasttrack—did you see him move? Bro was a blur!"

On subways, in alleyways, inside bars, and across school courtyards, the name Izuku Midoriya—Dekiru 10 was on everyone’s lips.

From nobodies to pro heroes, the city was buzzing, and the legend was only growing.

Unfortunately, not everyone saw Izuku’s rise as a good thing. As his fame skyrocketed, so did the controversy.

"He doesn’t even have a license, and he’s out here doing Pro Hero work?!" A man grumbled, gripping his newspaper as he stood in a crowded train car.

"Yeah, sure, he transforms and saves people, but does that mean the rules don’t apply to him?" a woman scoffed, flipping through an online debate thread. "What’s the point of a hero license if some kid can just do whatever he wants?"

"Seriously?" Another voice cut in, indignant. "That’s a real hero right there—kicking ass and taking names! You think Stain gave a damn about licenses?"

A teenager leaned against a train. "Well, considering how many pro heroes let those kids keep getting abused at Seijaku Gakuen, yeah—fuck a hero license! If they won’t step up, someone else has to."

The debate raged across social media, news broadcasts, and street corners alike. Some called him reckless. Others called him the future. But one thing was clear—Izuku Midoriya was impossible to ignore.

The smoky haze of a late-night police station lingered as a grizzled officer leaned back in his chair, exhaling a long puff of his cigarette. His voice was low and gravelly, the weight of years in law enforcement dripping from every word.

"How the hell are they lettin’ someone that dangerous run loose? Why ain't All Might haulin’ that punk in?" he muttered, tapping ash into an overflowing tray.

"Arrest?" Another officer raised a brow.

"Damn right, arrest!" The older cop scoffed. "This little shit does whatever the hell he wants like he's some kinda messiah. Need I remind ya, he killed someone?"