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…
-Huff…-
Midoriya exhaled heavily as the sun began to set, eyeing it with tired eyes. A bead of sweat rolled down his cheek, but he quickly swept it away.
His whole body trembled from the strain a full day of dancing had put him through.
Sure, the dozens of hits he'd taken from Tiger throughout the day hadn't helped, but honestly, the dancing had been worse. He could take a hit, but the burning ache from repeating the same movement for hours was on a whole other level.
Fortunately, it seemed he was finally free. Mandalay had just spoken to him—telepathically—telling him, along with the others doing the same training, that it was over for the day.
"Hngh…!"
As he stretched, eyes squeezed shut against the stiffness, he felt his muscles loosen and let out a satisfied sigh.
Despite the exhaustion, he did feel like he'd grown today. Whatever preparation they had made to think of this type of training, it sure was working.
Although… he wasn't sure if he could keep this pace for a whole week.
Dreading the days ahead, Midoriya shook his head and began making his way out of the forest, aiming to regroup with his class near the main building as Mandalay had ordered.
But his walk came to an abrupt stop midway through.
"...?!"
Near the mountain zone—where Tokoyami, Jiro, and Mina had been training—he spotted a scene that made him freeze.
In the middle of the rocky terrain, a chaotic battle raged, making Midoriya stare wide-eyed.
Six people—all of them from Class 1-B—were relentlessly attacking a single figure who dodged every blow or attack with absurd precision.
Midoriya didn't know most of them—except for one boy who had been dancing alongside him earlier, before being taken away by his teacher, probably to train here instead—but there was no mistaking the one doing all the dodging.
"Suzuki-kun?"
It was Suzaku who was currently on the move, as six people focused all their attacks on him.
Shots came from every direction: massive blobs of glue that would surely slow him down or even nail him to the ground if they connected in any way, airborne horns that circled the battlefield like homing missiles, bursts of solid air designed to block his way or to restrain him—and three people rushing straight at him to land a direct hit on close quarters. One was made of steel, another had enormous hands, and the last's arms spun like drills.
All of them jumped at Suzaku, throwing their best attacks at him. And yet, Suzaku avoided every single strike.
He wasn't breezing through it like Midoriya was used to seeing, he was sweating heavily, his upper gym uniform discarded to the side—smeared with glue—leaving him only with a drenched T-shirt—but compared to his attackers, he still looked somewhat more energetic.
The others, on the other hand, were on the verge of collapse. Exhaustion clung to them, their expressions twisted with frustration and desperation.
"Come on, Suzaku, stop dodging and face me like a MAAAAAAN!" Tetsutetsu roared, charging in with a punch loaded with all the stubborn passion left in him.
Suzaku didn't answer, but surprisingly, instead of continuing to retreat, he suddenly dashed straight at him.
A light lit up in Tetsutetsu's eyes, and a smirk replaced his frustrated look.
"I see you finally manned up… In that case, LET'S SETTLE THIS FOR ONCE AND FOR ALL!!!" He shouted, and with an inextinguishable fire in his eyes, his fist tightened to the limit.
For a second, it looked like they were about to clash—
—but just as Tetsutetsu's punch came down, Suzaku sidestepped, planted a foot against him, and sent him stumbling face-first into the dirt.
-Thud!-
The poor steel teenager skidded through the rocky ground for a few seconds before he finally came to a stop.
"Darn it!" Tetsutetsu shot back up, his face now dust-covered, and slammed a fist into the ground. The fall hadn't hurt him, nor had sliding through the ground for at least a meter—he was steel, after all—but his frustration was palpable.
He quickly stood up and spun toward Suzaku, ready to shout at him for his cowardice—only to see the redhead already charging at him again.
"Whu—?!"
Tetsutetsu didn't even get the chance to speak before Suzaku grabbed him and swung him into place—using him as a literal shield against the massive palm coming their way.
—Clang!—
A metallic gong rang out as Tetsutetsu took the full brunt of the strike, Suzaku smirking faintly from behind the human shield.
"Crap!"
Itsuka cursed as she realized who she'd just hit.
While she hastily pulled her hand back and Tetsutetsu shook off the impact, Suzaku slipped past them and widened the gap again.
A pair of horns came whistling toward him at blistering speed.
The redhead ducked—missing the attack by a hair—only for another threat to close in.
"Didn't see me coming, did you?!" Sen's voice rang out from behind, his arms whirring like turbines.
Mid-duck, Suzaku was in no position to dodge—or so it seemed. Sen lunged, confident this strike would finally connect.
But just as his hand was about to land, Suzaku's body twisted in an unnatural way—more unnatural than even the usual stunts he pulled with pure technique.
Somehow, impossibly, he avoided the hit. His body twisting like it didn't care for anatomy just to not let the attack land.
Ultimately, the attack hit the earth, and Suzaku slipped away once again unharmed.
Sen froze, eyes wide, mouth trembling in disbelief.
"Y-you bastard… this is unfair!"
Suzaku just shrugged and kept his distance, eyes flicking between the three front-liners and the support fighters behind them.
Sen shook himself out of it as Itsuka and Tetsutetsu regrouped at his side, all three glaring daggers at the redhead.
"I don't think I can keep going much longer," Sen muttered, glancing at his hands. They were heavy now—stiff—his spinning ability grinding down like rusted gears.
"Damnit," Tetsutetsu grunted. "Don't think I can hold my steel much longer either."
Itsuka flexed her hands with a scowl. "I can barely feel my hands anymore."
"So… last legs, huh?" Sen gave a wry smile before looking to the rest of their team.
Kojiro, the glue-shooter, looked ready to keel over—probably running on fumes in his reserves. And no wonder, he'd been shooting glue nonstop ever since the battle began.
Pony's face was pinched with pain, her concentration fraying after controlling and regenerating so many sets of horns for so long. She looked like she was having quite the migraine.
Kosei, who'd been throwing up walls of solid air, was breathing like he'd just finished a marathon—lungs overworked far past their usual limits due to all the solid air he'd generated in the past hours.
None of them were in better shape than the front line.
And yet Suzaku still looked like he could go another round—or five.
'Damn it. That last hit should've landed.' Sen gritted his teeth, replaying the impossible dodge in his head. That wasn't technique anymore—it couldn't be. Not unless Suzaku was made of rubber or something like that.
"Oi, Kendo," he said sharply, "Vlad-sensei said Suzaku had a new ability. What was it again?"
"That guy called it a 'crazy control' over his body."
"What the hell's that even mean?!"
"I think… literally that."
Sen's scowl deepened as he remembered the movement. It was almost like Tiger's hyper-flexibility—but Suzaku's bones themselves seemed to shift to make it possible.
"Crazy bastard," he muttered. "As if being an overpowered ninja wasn't enough—now he's got superpowers too?"
Tetsutetsu gritted his teeth, pumping a fist as tears pricked his eyes. "He keeps getting stronger, and I've barely grown compared to him… What kind of rival am I?!"
"It's not that serious…" Sen muttered, giving him a flat look.
"Focus, you two," Itsuka cut in sharply. "The six of us are running on fumes… and he doesn't even look fazed."
Sen's lips trembled. "Does he not get tired or what?"
"...Either we keep going, getting slower and slower until he takes complete control of the fight," Itsuka said, "or we throw everything into one last attack."
"I like the second option better." Tetsutetsu slammed his fists together, his frustration boiling over. The earlier reluctance to gang up was long gone; now all he wanted was to beat up that friend of his.
Sen tried to spin his arms again, wincing at the effort required. "Yeah. Either way, if we don't land a hit, it's over. Might as well go big."
"It's settled then." Itsuka exhaled, then glanced at the three still surrounding Suzaku, in charge of supporting them with their mixture of Quirks.
A single look and a small nod sent them bracing into position.
They'd developed silent signals during the past hours of sparring—enough to coordinate without tipping Suzaku off. This one just meant attack incoming.
They didn't need to know it was the final push. Judging by their drained expressions, this was probably everyone's last burst of strength anyway.
So with the preparations done, Kosei steadied his breathing, preparing to trap Suzaku in a cage of solid air.
Kojiro readied his last shot of glue, determined to root the redhead to the ground.
Pony's horns hovered, aimed like missiles and ready to lunge with the most speed they had ever mustered.
Sen rolled his shoulders, then whipped his arms into their fastest spin yet—burning the last of his stamina.
Tetsutetsu clenched his jaw, hardening his steel to its limit.
Itsuka frowned as her hands swelled into massive fists—numbness be damned.
This was it.
Their final attack.
Even Suzaku couldn't walk away untouched from this.
The battlefield went silent.
Suzaku stood still, as if inviting them in.
Then—he smirked.
-Bam!-
As if that had been the trigger they needed, the front three surged forward. Arms winding up their attacks, be it steel firsts, enlarged hands, or spinning jabs.
On their side, Kojiro, Kosei, and Pony locked their aim, ready to make sure Suzaku wouldn't be escaping this one.
Until—
"You seven, training is over. Go reunite with your class outside the main building." Mandalay's voice echoed in all their heads at once.
The six nearly tripped over themselves, momentum dying on the spot. Meanwhile, Suzaku let out a sigh of relief and clapped.
"Good luck next time, guys."
Without another word, he strolled over to retrieve his upper gym uniform from the ground, brushing away what dust he could from the poor cloth with a frown. The glue was going to be hell to clean.
However, as he lamented the state of his poor clothes, he suddenly stopped.
His head lifted up from his clothes, and he saw it.
There had been quite a lot of spectators watching the fight—Midoriya, Todoroki, a few others from Class 1-A and B, and even Bakugo, though he stood further back, like he didn't want to be caught looking.
When they noticed Suzaku had spotted them, however, they all quickly scrambled away.
"Bunch of nosy brats," Suzaku snorted, before turning back to check on his opponents. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead when he saw them all kneeling on the ground with slouched backs, looking utterly defeated.
"Not a single hit…"
"Five hours… and not once did we get him."
"I am a disgrace…"
"I came from America… for this?"
"Sorry guys…"
"Dammit… next time. Next time for sure…!"
The six of them muttered pessimistic stuff like ghosts in their spots, earning a wry smile from Suzaku.
He walked up and kneeled so he was at their level, looking at them with a gentle smile.
"It's okay, guys, you did your best."
Everyone lifted their heads at once, eyes glimmering with expectancy.
"Vlad-sensei just put you guys against someone on a much higher level than yo—"
"Get him!!"
"Don't let him escape!"
"Suzaku, you're getting your ass kicked today, like it or not!"
The otherwise quiet training grounds suddenly turned rowdy again as a pack of students charged after another one who was laughing smugly while running away.
Suzaku was truly a charismatic person—pushing people past their limits purely out of spite. Truly, one with the ragebaiting.
Eventually, the group reached the area where everyone else was gathering. The six had to stop chasing him when the teachers shot them a look.
Swallowing their frustration, they had no choice but to let Suzaku join the rest of the class untouched, before doing the same themselves.
Although the venomous glares did not fade in the slightest, even after minutes passed as everyone finished gathering.
Now, both classes stood side by side, facing the two heroines at the front—Pixie-Bob and Ragdoll. But more than the heroines, their eyes were drawn to the huge plates piled high with ingredients beside them.
Pixie-Bob smiled, resting a hand on the table. "Like we said yesterday, that meal we made for you last night was the last one. From now until the end of training, you'll be making your own meals. Hence, all this stuff we prepared so you could make…"
Ragdoll chimed in with way too much energy. "Curry! You all will work together to make a good curry!"
"Yessir…" both classes answered in unison, their exhaustion heavy in their voices. Some looked like they'd just skip dinner entirely if it meant they could lie down right now.
"Bwahaha!" Ragdoll laughed mockingly, looking at all their drowsy faces. "You all look exhausted! Unfortunately, that doesn't mean you can make any sloppy old cat food!"
At the back of Class 1-A, Iida coped with his exhaustion by thinking that even this must be a heroism lesson U.A. had planned in advance. Hence, he wouldn't afford to slack off.
"Everyone, let's make the best curry in the world!" He glanced around, prompting reluctant nods from those nearby.
"First, go change clothes. We can't have you cooking while covered in dust," Vlad King spoke from the side, gesturing toward the main building. Many students heaved a sigh of relief.
…
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| Minutes later… |
…
After changing quickly—and waking up a few smartasses who had decided to nap instead of changing—the two classes reunited outside to start cooking their meal.
Some peeled vegetables, others chopped them, while a few kept watch over the fire and the actual cooking. It was a calm stretch compared to the rest of the hectic day, giving everyone a chance to catch their breath.
Of course, like always, there were still skirmishes even in something as simple as cooking.
"Stop him, don't let him get to the food!"
"You guys don't know true cooking, let me go!"
"Suzaku, you're not adding Quirkritos powder to the curry!"
"Oh, yeah? Watch me!"
"Stop him, someone stop him!"
Besides those incidents, everything went smoothly.
By the time night fell, everyone had their plates in front of them. Soon, the sound of spoons hitting plates filled the air. The chatter was minimal; everyone was too focused on filling their stomachs to waste time on small talk.
Still, a few couldn't ignore the culinary crimes happening nearby.
"You're still at it, Suzaku?"
"Hey, this is too little for me. I'm a big boy, you know? This body isn't gonna sustain on plebeian portions."
"Still… why even Quirkritos?"
"Cause it's what I brought."
"Suzuki, don't you dare desecrate curry like that!"
Vlad suddenly stomped in, glaring at Suzaku with fury.
The redhead quickly grabbed his plate and hid it from the teacher. "No way. I need the extra grams. Unless you're giving me your portion, teacher, I'm gonna do as I please."
"No, you won't."
"Then there's nothing to discuss. Suzaku-special incoming."
And with that, Suzaku poured the bag of Quirkritos onto his plate, the powder falling in a thin orange layer.
"SUZUKIIIIII!!!"
With the melody of a student and a teacher skirmishing in the background, the rest of the two classes ate in peace, enjoying each other's company and replenishing their energy for the next day.
Hours later, everyone headed back to their rooms. Much like yesterday, the girls decided to stop by the hot springs first, while the boys would take their turn afterward.
Unfortunately, there was no TV, so another game night wasn't happening. Most students were far too exhausted anyway.
So instead, the majority simply sprawled on their beds, scrolling through their phones or taking quick naps while waiting for their turn in the springs.
Of course, not everyone followed the script.
"So, Suzaku, mind explaining the crap you pulled today?" Sen asked from his bed, glaring at the redhead, who lay calmly on his own bed, playing a mobile game with what was probably an atrocious name.
"What? Being awesome?" Suzaku replied without looking up.
"More like twisting your body in ways that shouldn't be possible," Sen deadpanned. "Vlad-sensei said something about a new ability. What's that about?"
The conversation drew the attention of several classmates who'd been minding their own business.
"Uh, yeah," Suzaku said casually. "Didn't realize its potential until now, but turns out I've got weird control over my body. I can imitate voices, control my muscles a bit, and even my bones. Neat, ain't it?"
Monoma shot up from his "dead" position on his bed, staring wide-eyed.
"Hold on, hold on… so you've got another Quirk? Or is this a new feature of your Glasses Quirk? Like, besides controlling your glasses, you can actually control your whole body? Or—wait, is your body actually made of glass?"
Suzaku shook his head. "It's more like a talent. Not a Quirk, at least. Class 1-A's teacher couldn't erase it with his Erasure."
"For real?"
"For real real."
"Damn," Monoma muttered, looking like his worldview had been shaken.
"So that's how you broke your record this morning," Jurota commented from his side of the room, scratching the fur under his chin. Beard? Maybe beard.
"Yep. Pretty cool, huh?" Suzaku said, still glued to his phone.
"How?" Monoma suddenly demanded, frustration lacing his voice.
"The hell you mean 'how'? I was born."
"But you've had it your whole life?"
"I think so?" Suzaku shrugged. "Didn't notice until a few years in, and even then I didn't mess with it enough to see all the uses."
"How'd you even figure it out then?" Kamakiri asked.
"All Might."
A small pause followed, then a collective nod.
""So that's it.""
"And that freaky movement you did during our fight?" Sen suddenly asked, eyes narrowed. "You know, moving as if your skeleton were optional."
"That? I thought about it after fighting that guy from the hero team that's looking after us… what was his name? Lion? Puma? Cheetah?"
"Tiger."
"Same thing."
The group deadpanned at him.
Sen crossed his arms, eyeing the redhead suspiciously. "Then what else can you do?"
Suzaku smiled pleasantly.
"We're sparring tomorrow. So I'm not telling you squat."
"Asshole."
Suzaku waved him off with a smirk. "Alright, alright, relax. If you're that curious, ask Itsuka. I already told her. Until then, you're not getting anything from me."
"Tsk." Sen clicked his tongue. "Why tell her if she's fighting you tomorrow too? I think there's preferential treatment going on here."
"Yeah, what's that about?" Juzo leaned forward with a knowing grin. "You two have been friends since the start of the semester, haven't you?"
"I'm pretty sure they said they met during the practical exam," Tetsutetsu muttered from his side. Somehow, everyone heard that, and even more began eyeing the redhead.
Manga's head morphed into a heart. "Ohhh, I think we all know what's going on here."
Kosei grinned. "Don't tell me… Suzaku, you're—!"
Before he could finish, Suzaku abruptly stood up.
"As much as I'd love to be the center of your gossip, the soda I've been drinking since morning is finally making its way down. So, bathroom time."
He started for the door—only to find Kamakiri stepping in front of it.
"I see you're trying to escape."
Suzaku narrowed his eyes. "Listen, pal… unless you've got a death wish, move."
"We don't think so." Three more voices chimed in from behind. In seconds, the blockade had doubled.
"Kakaka… you're not leaving until you talk," Juzo said.
"Did you think we'd just let you walk away?" Manga added.
"We don't think so, amigo," Sen finished with a smirk.
Suzaku stood still for a moment, as if stunned by the sudden opposition. Not knowing what to do.
Ultimately, however, he gave them a faint smile and shook his head.
"Alright. If you want me to mark you all as my territory, be my guest. Plenty of liquid for all of you."
Zip.
"…Never mind. Get out of here."
The four students scattered instantly.
With a satisfied snort, Suzaku pulled up his zipper, opened the door, and left. Much to the frustration of everyone inside.
Down the hall, he passed the hot springs area on his way to the bathroom, only to come to a stop as he reached the doors to the place.
Not because he had any plans here—he wasn't that desperate—but because he caught sight of a purple-ball-haired midget trying to sneak into the boys' side.
"Y-you... what are you doing here?!"
Normally, Suzaku wouldn't have cared—it was the boys' side, after all—but the guy was lugging a suspicious assortment of gear: night-vision goggles, a drill, climbing equipment, and other, less-identifiable contraptions.
Considering the girls were still in there, Suzaku had a pretty good guess at his "mission."
Plus, if his memory didn't fail him...
-Rustle-
He knelt down in front of the sweating, wide-eyed culprit.
"I remember you…"
…
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| Minutes later… |
…
After dumping U.A.'s number-one degenerate in the teachers' room—where, strangely, neither of the teachers asked any questions but simply dragged the pipsqueak away with darkened expressions—and making a quick bathroom stop, Suzaku stepped outside the building.
No special reason, other than hoping the guys at the dorm would forget the stupid stuff they had been on about.
And perhaps because he was feeling like taking a breather. The mountain air was strangely relaxing.
So, hands in pockets, he stepped onto the cold grass, just a few meters from the tables where everyone had been eating an hour or so ago, and stared up at the night sky, his expression unreadable.
For a moment, he just stood there, watching the stars... as if trying to find something there.
Then his gaze shifted to his arm, which he slowly morphed into colossus mode.
He examined the changes to his arms for a few minutes, his expression unchanging through the whole inspection.
Then, he gave a short snort.
"A talent, huh?" he muttered, a wry smile blooming on his face.
As those words left his mouth, suddenly, his arm took on a rocky texture.
"...Guess it wasn't totally a lie."
Then, less than a second later, the arm returned to normal, and Suzaku took a long breath, eyes drifting back to the stars.
"At least it's more believable than a 'blessing' or something like that."
With another snort, this time closer to a chuckle, he shoved his hands back in his pockets and turned toward the building.
It was cold, after all. He'd had enough of the mountain air for now.
But just as he reached the door—
"...?!"
His head snapped toward the forest.
No sound. No movement. Nothing at all had happened.
And yet—he felt as if someone had been watching.
—Silence—
... But seeing nothing there—only endless leaves rustling in the night breeze—Suzaku shrugged the feeling off with a self-mocking scoff and walked inside, this time without anything stopping him.
A few minutes passed after he left. The place stayed the same, undisturbed, the night forest calm and still.
Until suddenly, far in the distance, a figure emerged from the foliage.
His eyes were bloodshot, veins bulging across his forehead.
"That brat… I swear I—!"
"I believe our leader told us not to engage until everyone was here, didn't he?" A voice cut in. From the shadows stepped a young man with spiky black hair and skin marred by severe burns that ended in thick stitches. "Honestly, when I joined, I expected you to be far more worthy of following… but you're almost delusional."
"Shut up. That brat… I must kill him. He's the wall keeping me from my mission. He's the obstacle I have to surpass!" the figure muttered, his tone desperate and nearly feral.
The young man snorted. "I don't see him stopping you. Pretty sure you could keep doing your thing and he wouldn't be able to do much."
The figure suddenly pulled out a katana, pointing it straight at the young man despite his eyes still locked on the spot where Suzaku had stood moments before. "Shut up! He… he must die. One way or another!"
The young man let out a long sigh, rubbing his face. "Hah~... It's no use. You're long gone, aren't you? A pity. I was looking forward to meeting Stain… instead, I get this husk with the same name."
"Kill. I will kill him!"
The young man only patted his shoulder. "You'll get your chance. But for now, the top brass of this crappy organization has plans for him."
"..."
With that, the figure finally complied, walking away alongside the young man—leaving only the silence of the night behind.
…
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-To be Continued…-
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(A/N: Chachachan. The big evildoers are finally here—not all, hence why they haven't attacked. But soon they'll be. According to the series, they'll begin their attacks the next day, but I'll see whether that makes sense in the context of this series or not. Maybe Suzaku will have a few more days of training, which would be ideal, seeing as to how things will go once the attack happens, or maybe he'll just have one more day.
Who knows, I'll see.
Anyway, I found one more amogus picture—apart from the thumb from the previous chapter, which I had left forgotten on my screenshots.
This one, however... uh, just focus on the hat, not the nose.)
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