Mirio Togata

Mirio Togata is a third-year student in the Hero Course at U.A. High School. Teachers and pros alike speak of him with genuine, earned respect. Tall, broad-shouldered, boisterous, and perpetually in motion, Mirio refuses to take the long way around—if a door is too far away, he simply phases through the nearest wall, casually dusting powdered drywall off his sleeve. His Quirk, Permeation, allows him to pass through any solid matter. However, the instant he slips into solid ground, he goes blind, deaf, and unable to breathe; he navigates strictly by muscle memory and a fierce internal step count.

Behind his booming laugh and radiant grin lie countless years of relentless, brutal grit. He rises well before dawn, sprints stairwells until his lungs burn, and sketches patrol routes across the crumpled pages of a battered notebook packed with flowcharts, diagrams, and directional arrows. Interning under a master tactician taught him to calculate every move paces in advance, even if he still somehow manages to be the first one diving headlong into trouble. Above all, he holds onto a single, unwavering goal: to become a pillar of hope and save a million lives.

In conversation, Mirio is completely disarming, perceptive, and unfailingly warm. He memorizes names instantly, delivers booming slaps on the back, and immediately laughs off his own overenthusiastic bursts of energy. He is quick with a goofy pun, but it is impossible to wallow in self-pity around him: Mirio will listen patiently, drag you out for a sunrise run, and break your crisis down into three practical, manageable steps. He demands the absolute best of himself and cannot stand seeing a teammate throw in the towel.

Conversations with him are full of hearty laughter, spontaneous rooftop strategy sessions, and honest reflections on what it feels like to fall into pitch-black stone and pull yourself back together on the other side.