Immediately following the emotional highs of the Kamino Ward incident, My Hero Academia’s Provisional License Exam Arc pivots the story toward a different kind of heroism: the cold, bureaucratic reality of earning the right to act as a professional. After the students of U.A. High move into the newly built Heights Alliance dorms, they are thrust into a rigorous licensing process designed to weed out those who lack the judgment, cooperation, and public service mindset required of modern heroes. This arc, which spans the second half of season three of the anime and chapters 98–121 of the manga, delivers a blend of tactical combat, character-driven drama, and hard-hitting lessons about what it truly means to be a hero in the competitive My Hero Academia world.

Setting the Stage: Aftermath of the Kamino Incident

The provisional license exam unfolds in the shadow of All Might’s retirement. With the Symbol of Peace gone, the hero society is scrambling to fill the void. For the students, the stakes are personal: they watched their mentor burn out his power to save the public, and now they must prove themselves capable of stepping up. The provisional license is not a full hero license, but it grants students the authority to use their Quirks in an official capacity during emergencies and internships—a critical step toward becoming a professional. The narrative emphasizes that heroism is no longer just about flashy victories over villains; it’s about reliability, restraint, and the trust of the community.

The Exam Structure and Rules

The Hero Public Safety Commission organizes the exam, which attracts over 1,500 participants from hero schools across Japan. Unlike U.A.’s internal tests, this is a nationwide, high-stakes competition with a low pass rate. The exam is divided into three distinct phases, each designed to evaluate a different facet of hero work:

  • Phase One: Target Elimination Trial – A 100-target ball-throwing exercise that tests speed, accuracy, and strategic collaboration.
  • Phase Two: Disaster Rescue Simulation – A large-scale urban rescue scenario that challenges participants’ judgment, empathy, and ability to work with civilians.
  • Phase Three: Villain Attack Final Test – A surprise simulation pitting the remaining candidates against a powerful “villain” (the pro hero Gang Orca) and his sidekicks, demanding adaptive teamwork under pressure.

Each phase is meticulously designed to expose candidates who lack the balanced skill set of a modern hero. This arc also introduces a wide array of competitors from other schools, including Shiketsu High and Ketsubutsu Academy, immediately broadening the world and demonstrating that U.A. students are not the only top-tier talent in Japan.

Phase One: The Hundred Target Ball Trial

The opening exam phase throws participants into a replica urban environment where they must tag mechanical targets with balls. The twist: each candidate gets only six balls, and the targets are designed to be almost impossibly fast and evasive. The key here is resource management and cooperation. U.A.’s Class 1-A quickly demonstrates a strong strategic instinct, with Momo Yaoyorozu using her Creation Quirk to manufacture a net gun, while Tsuyu Asui and Minoru Mineta coordinate to trap multiple targets at once. The exercise also offers one of the arc’s finest early showcases of teamwork: Denki Kaminari and Mashirao Ojiro combine their lightning and tail-based mobility to clear an area efficiently.

However, the phase also highlights a central theme of the arc—the danger of lone-wolf mentalities. Other schools, like Ketsubutsu Academy, field tight-knit squads that outmaneuver individualistic competitors. The exam becomes a microcosm of the new hero landscape: raw power alone is nowhere near enough. This realization sets the stage for Izuku Midoriya’s first public demonstration of his newly developed Shoot Style, a kick-focused combat technique that reduces strain on his arms and allows him to fight at higher percentages. Watching him adapt in real time—sidestepping his habit of breaking bones—is a breath of fresh air for fans who had grown accustomed to his self-destructive early fights. (For a detailed breakdown of Midoriya’s Quirk evolution, check the MHA Wiki character page.)

Phase Two: Disaster Rescue Simulation

If Phase One was a race of speed and power, Phase Two is a lesson in humanity. The scenario: a post-battle urban disaster site filled with injured, panicked, and sometimes uncooperative civilians (professional actors). Candidates are evaluated on their ability to triage injuries, de-escalate emotional outbursts, follow standard rescue protocols, and coordinate with other responders—all while a mock villain threat looms in the background. The Hero Public Safety Commission designed this segment specifically to weed out those who view heroism as a brawl-first endeavor.

This is where Katsuki Bakugo’s abrasive personality becomes a glaring liability. His attempts to “command” civilians come across as threats, and his explosive temper costs him crucial points. Shoto Todoroki also struggles, but for different reasons: his rigid, emotionless approach clashes with the empathy needed to reassure frightened victims. The simulation exposes a harsh truth that the series has been quietly building toward—the traditional idea of strength, even the cool-headed tactical kind, is insufficient without genuine compassion and communication. The show’s satire of a metrics-driven hero-licensing system lands hard here, reminding viewers that the public’s perception can make or break a hero’s career.

External observers like Ms. Joke (Emi Fukukado) provide a sharp contrast; her Quirk, Outburst, forces laughter but she wields it with a warmth that instantly puts civilians at ease. Her interactions with Shota Aizawa, U.A.’s perpetually exhausted homeroom teacher, inject much-needed humor into the tension, while also underscoring that different heroes bring different strengths to the table. (For a full cast list and Quirk descriptions, Crunchyroll’s episode guide offers valuable context.)

The Shiketsu Rivals and Camie’s Deception

The arc’s most memorable external threat comes from Shiketsu High School, a prestigious institution where students wear full uniform caps and maintain an aura of disciplined menace. Two Shiketsu students dominate the narrative: Inasa Yoarashi, the hot-blooded wind manipulator with a loud personality that rivals Bakugo’s, and Camie Utsushimi, whose Glamour Quirk produces convincing illusions. From the moment they appear, it’s clear that U.A. does not have a monopoly on raw talent.

Inasa is a fascinating foil for Todoroki. The son of Endeavor’s biggest fan, Inasa once harbored deep admiration for the Number Two Hero, but a childhood encounter with an abrasive, dismissive Endeavor shattered that idolization. He now despises everything Endeavor stands for and, by extension, views Todoroki with suspicion. The emotional wound is palpable and adds a layer of cyclical trauma that haunts the hero world: adult failings creating rifts among the next generation. The conflict between Inasa’s overwhelming windstorms and Todoroki’s ice and fire becomes one of the arc’s visual highlights, but it’s the psychological component that resonates.

Camie’s role is more insidious. She appears ditzy and vapid, often speaking in valley-girl slang, but she swiftly demonstrates an uncanny ability to disrupt opponents by creating illusory duplicates and environmental confusion. The twist that this Camie is actually Himiko Toga in disguise—having used her Transform Quirk to impersonate the real Camie and gather blood samples—serves as a chilling reminder that the League of Villains is always lurking. Toga’s infiltration of such a high-security event raises the stakes enormously, and the fact that none of the proctors notice only reinforces the fragile state of the hero safety apparatus post-All Might. (Read more about Toga’s background on the MHA Wiki.)

Bakugo and Todoroki’s Failures: A Harsh Lesson in Heroism

Perhaps the most pivotal moment of the arc is the revelation that neither Bakugo nor Todoroki passed the exam. For two of the strongest fighters in Class 1-A, this failure is a narrative shock. Their shortcomings are not about physical ability; they are about character. Bakugo’s refusal to respect civilian emotions and his constant hostility cost him rescue points, while Todoroki’s inability to work with Inasa during the rescue phase—due to Inasa’s deep-seated hatred of Endeavor—led to a catastrophic team breakdown. Their clash caused a child civilian actor to nearly be injured, an unforgivable error in the eyes of the examiners.

The scene where Todoroki and Inasa’s combined powers accidentally whip up a massive wind-and-ice vortex that knocks over structures and sends civilians screaming is a masterclass in visual storytelling. It visually echoes the collateral damage that the heroes themselves have been trying to prevent, and it lands with a heavy sense of disappointment. The boys’ mutual guilt afterward is painful to watch, but it’s necessary. This arc is not about punishing them; it’s about teaching them that heroism is a service, not a stage for personal grudges or power displays. Todoroki’s subsequent apology to Inasa and their fragile handshake mark the beginning of a critical emotional growth arc for both characters. It’s a lesson the series keeps returning to: even the best Quirk in the world is useless if its user cannot be a decent, collaborative person.

Midoriya’s Evolution with Shoot Style

While his classmates struggle with interpersonal dynamics, Izuku Midoriya quietly evolves his combat philosophy. Recognizing the unsustainable damage that full-cowl punches inflict on his arms, he adopts a kick-based style after training with Gran Torino. The Provisional License Exam becomes the perfect testing ground. He uses his legs to deliver powerful, precise blows without the same risk of fracture, weaving Shoot Style into his existing analytical approach. Against Camie’s illusions, he has to rely on instinct and observation; the moment he sees through the fakes by noticing they don’t kick up dust is a classic Midoriya underdog victory.

This fight is also where he starts to tap into the more terrifying aspects of his Quirk, as his subsequent confrontation with a blood-crazed Toga reveals a darker, more determined side. It’s a subtle but important shift: Midoriya is no longer just the kid who takes notes; he’s becoming a fighter who can adapt on the fly to truly unpredictable threats. His success in the exam is a testament to his growth from the boy who couldn’t control One For All at all to someone capable of earning a provisional license without breaking his body in the process. (For a full episode recap, Crunchyroll’s episode page details the Toga twist.)

The Final Phase: Gang Orca’s Villain Attack

The third phase of the exam is a masterstroke of narrative design. The Hero Public Safety Commission surprises the candidates by announcing that the exam is not over, then unleashing the pro hero Gang Orca and his aquatic-themed sidekicks as a simulated villain force. The goal is to force the exhausted, emotionally drained candidates to work together across school lines to protect the evacuation site. This is not a battle to win; it’s a battle to delay and preserve lives until reinforcements arrive—a far more realistic portrayal of hero duty.

Gang Orca’s sheer presence, his paralyzing sonic blasts, and his tactical mind make him a terrifying opponent. The candidates must coordinate shields, diversionary attacks, and rapid rescue maneuvers under intense pressure. Todoroki and Inasa’s final reconciliation happens here when they combine their Quirks to create a massive firestorm that counters Gang Orca’s minions. The sequence is breathtaking, but more importantly, it earns both boys the necessary points to pass—only for Todoroki to be held back by his earlier mistakes, and Inasa to voluntarily decline his own license out of remorse. Their respective decisions highlight the arc’s theme: the exam is not just a box to check; it’s a mirror reflecting their deepest flaws.

Character Development Beyond Class 1-A

While U.A.’s students receive the spotlight, the arc also invests heavily in making the supporting cast feel like real rivals. Camie’s genuine airheadedness (once rescued) becomes endearing, and her friendship with the illusion-less Inasa adds charm. The Ketsubutsu students, especially the pragmatic Shindo and the cheerful Tatami, illustrate alternative hero philosophies that don’t rely on overwhelming force. Even Ms. Joke, who often seems like comic relief, gets moment to display sharp insight, particularly when she goads Aizawa about his teaching methods. The arc’s world-building reminds readers that heroics is a massive industry with countless approaches, and that U.A.’s spotlight is a privilege, not a guarantee.

One of the quieter but vital character beats is Bakugo’s internal reflection. For the first time, he is publicly humiliated not by an enemy but by his own attitude. The following remedial course arc, where he and Todoroki must learn to work with children, directly stems from this failure. That long-term narrative payoff starts here, in the quiet moments after the results are announced, where Bakugo sits alone in his dorm room, fists clenched, forced to confront the idea that shouting and winning fights might not be enough. It’s a rare moment of vulnerability for a character defined by rage.

The Arc’s Legacy

The Provisional License Exam Arc is often cited by fans as a turning point in My Hero Academia’s broader message. It temporarily steps away from villain-driven plotlines to focus on systemic pressures and the multifaceted nature of hero work. The failures of Todoroki and Bakugo resonate because they are not scripted defeats; they are natural consequences of unresolved personal issues spilling into professional conduct. The arc also plants seeds for future storylines: Toga’s infiltration leads directly to her increased obsession with Midoriya, the simmering tension between Inasa and the Todoroki family echoes throughout Endeavor’s redemption arc, and the remedial course—while comedic—becomes a crucial moment of bonding for the two fallen stars.

Beyond its plot importance, the arc is a tightly constructed examination of why hero society needs to evolve. All Might’s brute-force era is over. The future belongs to heroes who can communicate, empathize, collaborate, and take responsibility for their mistakes. The provisional license is a piece of plastic, but the lessons learned in earning it are what truly prepare the students for the dark times ahead. For a detailed timeline of how this arc fits into the larger story, Wikipedia’s My Hero Academia page provides a helpful overview.