AN: Hey! So... I messed up in the previous chapter
(I did the whole chapter, then removed her name and information bit by bit, turns out it was a bad idea as I left out her quirk details in a further paragraph and thought I was done...)
so yeah, congrats to DaoistDhAFIC for finding it out, here's the promised chapters.
Also I'm skipping bakugo's ball thrown and some other stuff like Midoriya's close expulsion, I'm too lazy to write it.
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Anim POV
The 50-meter dash felt like a declaration of war.
Anim watched the first pair of students sprint down the track—Iida's engines roaring to life while some kid with a bizarre navel laser tried to propel himself forward with questionable results. The electronic voice announced times that ranged from impressive to concerning.
"3.04 seconds," it declared for Iida. "10.72 seconds" for the laser kid.
"Ashido, Anim. Lane one."
Finally. Anim stepped up to the starting line, noting how conversations around him quieted slightly. He'd drawn attention during the entrance exam, apparently. The brown-haired girl—Uraraka—watched him with obvious curiosity, probably wondering if he'd do something dramatic.
"Bakugo, Katsuki. Lane two."
The explosion boy appeared beside him, red eyes glinting with competitive malice. Up close, his presence carried an intensity that made most people step back. Anim didn't move.
"Ready... go!"
Bakugo launched himself forward with controlled explosions, his technique polished and aggressive. Impressive, but Anim had other ideas.
His legs stretched mid-stride, each step covering impossible distances as his body adapted to the demand for speed. The sensation felt natural, like remembering how to breathe underwater. Behind him, he heard surprised murmurs from their classmates.
"4.13 seconds. 4.28 seconds."
Bakugo's head whipped around, his expression shifting from confidence to something darker. Being beaten, even by four-tenths of a second, clearly didn't sit well with him.
"What the hell kind of Quirk was that?" Bakugo demanded as they walked back to the group.
"Elasticity," Anim said, which wasn't exactly a lie. "Body manipulation."
"Tch." Bakugo's dismissal carried the weight of someone categorizing a threat level. "Fancy parlor tricks."
Anim just smiled, the expression carrying just enough edge to be uncomfortable. "We'll see."
??? POV
-------- had been trying not to watch him, but her eyes kept drifting back despite her better judgment.
The 50-meter dash had been impressive enough—that stretching technique was unlike anything she'd seen before. But it wasn't really about his abilities that kept drawing her attention. It was the way he carried himself, that same casual confidence from the rain, like he knew something the rest of them didn't.
"Ashido, Anim," Aizawa called again.
So that was his name. ----- told herself she was just paying attention to classmates, but she found herself leaning forward slightly as he stepped up to the grip strength device.
"127 kilograms."
Impressive, though she barely registered the number. She was more focused on how effortless he made it look, the same way he'd walked through that downpour like the weather was personally inconveniencing him.
"What are you looking at?" The pink-skinned girl—apparently his sister—had appeared beside her with bright curiosity.
------'s face heated. "Nothing. Just... watching everyone's tests."
"Uh-huh." Mina's grin suggested she wasn't buying it. "My brother does tend to catch people's attention. Fair warning though—he's kind of an ass sometimes."
"I wasn't—" ----- started, then gave up. Denying it would only make it more obvious.
Before the conversation could get more embarrassing, Aizawa called for the next test. ---- tried to focus on other students, really tried, but when Anim's turn for the long jump came around, her attention snapped back to him automatically.
She watched his approach, noting the lazy confidence in his stride, then the moment everything changed as he launched himself forward. His body moved in ways that should have been impossible, stretching and adapting with fluid precision.
"How is he doing that?" she wondered, not realizing she'd spoken aloud.
"Practice," a familiar voice said beside her.
Her stomach dropped. He was standing right there, close enough that she could smell whatever soap he used, looking at her with those dark eyes that seemed to see too much.
"You," he said, and his smile was the same one from that afternoon—genuinely amused. "Bus stop girl."
The nickname made her want to either hit him or hide. "I... what?"
"Three days ago. Rain. Strawberry juice." His expression was infuriatingly pleased with himself. "Still getting wet, I see."
She glanced down, confused, then realized he was referencing the sweat from the tests. Her face burned hot enough to power a small furnace.
"That's not— I mean—"
"Relax. I'm just messing with you." The amusement in his voice softened slightly. "I'm Anim, by the way. Since we never got properly introduced."
"Jiro," she managed.
"Nice to finally put a name to the face." He paused, and she could feel him studying her. "You've been watching me."
It wasn't a question, and the direct statement made her want to disappear into the ground. "Hmph, I watch everyone."
"Mm." The sound suggested he didn't believe her, but he didn't push it. "Really."
"Ball throw. Uraraka, you're up first."
Aizawa's announcement saved her from whatever response she might have fumbled through. They watched Uraraka achieve infinity, and Jiro tried to focus on literally anything except the fact that Anim was still standing beside her.
When his turn came, she found herself holding her breath despite her best efforts not to care. He took the ball with that same casual confidence, drew back, and then his entire body became part of the motion—stretching, twisting, every part contributing to the throw.
"847.3 meters."
"Show off," his sister called out, and Jiro caught herself almost smiling at the family dynamic.
When Anim returned to the group, he somehow ended up next to her again. She wasn't sure if that was intentional or coincidence, and she wasn't sure which possibility was more annoying.
"So," he said quietly, "verdict?"
"On what?"
"The competition. You've been observing pretty carefully."
She had been, though not for the reasons he probably thought. "Everyone's stronger than I expected."
"Including me?"
The question was loaded with something she couldn't quite identify. She looked at him directly for the first time since he'd approached her.
"You're holding back," she said, surprising herself with the honesty.
His eyebrows rose slightly. "What makes you say that?"
"Just... the way you move. Like you could do more but you're choosing not to."
"Maybe I'm just being smart about it."
"Maybe." She paused, then decided to be brave. "Or maybe you like having secrets."
Anim's smile was sharp and genuinely pleased. "I like you, bus stop girl. You pay attention to the right things."
The comment sent an unwelcome flutter through her chest, and she was grateful when Aizawa announced the final scores, giving her something else to focus on.
"By the way," their teacher said, "the expulsion was a lie."
Relief flooded through the class, but Jiro was still thinking about that smile, about the way he'd looked at her like she'd said something interesting instead of obvious.
She wasn't sure if she wanted him to keep noticing her or if she'd rather fade back into comfortable invisibility. Both options seemed equally terrifying.