The boys' locker room hummed with energy after Aizawa's "rational deception." Steam billowed from the showers as the tension of potential expulsion melted away. Most of my classmates had bounced back quickly, their relief manifesting as pure noise.
"I can't believe I scored thirteenth," Kaminari groaned, dramatically slumping against his locker. "My Quirk should be way more powerful than that. The tests were totally biased against electricity users."
"At least you weren't in the bottom five," Sero laughed, stretching his tape-dispensing elbows. "Though I gotta say, that invisible girl has a tough break. How do you even train an invisibility Quirk?"
Kirishima flexed in front of the mirror, his spiky red hair still perfectly maintained despite the sweat. "Everyone gave it their all! That's what matters! So manly!"
I ignored them, methodically changing back into my uniform. Fourth place. Not ideal, but strategically sound. I'd shown just enough skill to establish myself as a contender without revealing my full capabilities. Aizawa had noticed my restraint – I'd caught his calculating gaze more than once. Good. Let him wonder.
Across the room, Bakugo slammed his locker with enough force to dent the metal. He seethed in his corner, and everyone gave him a wide berth except Kirishima, who seemed oddly immune to the blonde's fury.
Todoroki stood apart from everyone, changing back. His face remained completely blank, as if the rest of us didn't exist.
Yaoyorozu was clearly the golden child – intelligent, powerful, and well-connected. Todoroki radiated raw power but kept himself isolated. Bakugo was the wild card – tremendous potential hampered by an ego more fragile than glass.
And then there was Midoriya, currently absent. Sent to Recovery Girl for his broken finger. A fascinating puzzle. Bakugo's reaction to his ball throw suggested a shared history, one worth investigating.
"Hey, Bakugo, man, that was intense out there!" Kaminari's voice. The electric blonde was approaching Bakugo with the self-preservation instincts of a lemming. Kirishima subtly waved him off, but Kaminari plowed ahead. "But listen, I gotta ask... what was that all about with Midoriya? You kept calling him a 'Quirkless loser.' What's the deal with that?"
The shower sputtered off. In the sudden quiet, every eye was on Bakugo.
Bakugo whipped around, his crimson eyes narrowing to slits. "BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT HE IS!" he snarled, his voice echoing off the tiled walls.
"Whoa, easy—" Kaminari took a step back, hands raised.
"That damn Deku was a worthless, Quirkless pebble my entire life! He didn't have a damn thing!" Bakugo's hands smoked, tiny explosions popping between his fingers. "Then he shows up here with that power? He was lying. The little fucker was pretending to be weak, laughing at me behind my back for years!"
"But... how the hell can you pretend to be Quirkless?" Kaminari asked, genuinely confused.
"Yeah, and why would someone do that?" Sero added.
Bakugo's face contorted with disgust. "Who gives a shit! All those damn Quirkless rejects are the same. Useless dead weight, thinking they deserve a place at the table. They should just know their place and stay out of the way."
My hand froze over my clean shirt.
Kimiko.
Her face after another rejection letter.
The way she'd stare at her application form, the "Quirkless" box checked, a scarlet letter in a world that worshipped power.
Her hands, rough from late-night shifts mixing drinks for pro heroes who would never hire her. Her eyes, tired from studying hero agency law until dawn, knowing she was twice as qualified as anyone with a flashy Quirk but would receive half the chances.
Useless dead weight.
Know their place.
"Hey, Murano, you okay?" Someone asked. I didn't register who.
One moment I was by my locker. The next, I was across the room. I didn't announce myself. Didn't posture. Didn't waste time with threats. I simply drove my fist directly into Bakugo's jaw with every ounce of force I could generate.
Bakugo flew backward over a bench, crashing into a row of lockers with a deafening clang. Several dented from the impact.
The locker room went dead silent. Even Bakugo seemed stunned, one hand touching his jaw in disbelief.
I stood over him, my shadow falling across his face.
"Talk shit about the Quirkless again... and I'll fucking kill you."
For a single, frozen moment, the arrogance in his crimson eyes vanished.
Then his pride reasserted itself. His fear morphed into pure, unfiltered rage. He let out a roar that was barely human and launched himself at me, explosions already crackling in his palms.
"YOU'RE DEAD!" he screamed, swinging a blast-enhanced right hook at my head.
I ducked under it, the air searing my cheek and filling my nostrils with the smell of burnt sugar and ozone. Close quarters combat should be his weakness. His Quirk needed distance to be truly effective. I stepped inside his guard and drove my elbow into his solar plexus. He gasped but recovered quickly, grabbing my shirt and setting off a small explosion directly against my chest.
A white-hot bloom of pain erupted against my ribs. The air punched from my lungs, and my shirt flash-cooked against my skin.
My shirt smoldered as we crashed into a bank of lockers, the metal doors buckling under our combined weight.
"Stop it, guys!" Kirishima yelled, hardening his arm and trying to get between us. I shoved him aside, my focus entirely on Bakugo.
"This isn't manly!" Kirishima protested as he stumbled back.
Bakugo's next explosion was larger, more controlled. I barely twisted away in time, the blast superheating the air beside my face. I felt my skin tighten from the proximity. He was aiming to maim now, not just intimidate.
Perfect. So was I.
I kicked a bench toward him, forcing him to jump back. The momentary space gave me time to palm three coins. I charged them instantly, the metal glowing violet in my hand.
"Bakugo, Murano, knock it off!" Kaminari shouted, electricity sparking across his fingers. "You're gonna get us all in trouble!"
Bakugo bared his teeth in a feral grin. "Stay the fuck out of this! This asshole needs to learn his place!"
"My place?" I laughed. "Above you, apparently."
He roared and lunged, both hands stretched forward, ready to unleash a massive blast.
I flicked the first coin at his left hand, the kinetic discharge precise and powerful. It hit his palm just as he was about to release his explosion, disrupting his Quirk and sending a painful feedback into his arm. He howled, momentarily thrown off balance.
Students scrambled back, pressing against the walls. Voices overlapped, calling for us to stop. Kirishima tried once more to intervene but was caught in the backwash of Bakugo's next blast, sending him tumbling across the wet floor.
Suddenly, the temperature plummeted.
A wave of ice surged across the tiled floor, so fast I barely registered it before it engulfed my legs. Across from me, Bakugo was similarly trapped, frozen up to his waist in a jagged prison of ice.
"What the—" Bakugo struggled against the ice, his explosions doing little to melt the rapidly thickening frost.
I followed the ice trail back to its source. Todoroki hadn't moved from his spot by the lockers. He hadn't even fully turned around. His right hand was extended, frost still emanating from his fingertips.
"We are classmates. Stop it."
"Let me go, Half-and-Half!" Bakugo snarled, redoubling his efforts to free himself. The ice around his hands began to steam, but Todoroki simply reinforced it with another layer of frost.
"Aizawa-sensei will be here soon," Todoroki said flatly. "Explain it to him."
I stopped struggling, assessing the situation with newfound clarity. The ice wasn't budging, and causing property damage on our first day wasn't strategically sound.
The locker room door slammed open. Aizawa stood in the doorway, his eyes glowing red, his capture scarf floating around him like angry tentacles. He took in the scene with one sweep of his gaze—the dented lockers, the frozen students, the shocked faces of our classmates.
"Explain. Now." His voice promised consequences.
Before either Bakugo or I could speak, Kaminari stepped forward. "It was my fault, sensei. I asked an insensitive question about Quirks that upset both of them."
Aizawa's eyes narrowed. "I don't care who started it. Fighting outside of sanctioned training is grounds for immediate expulsion."
"Then expel me," I said, meeting his gaze without flinching. "But I'd do it again."
Bakugo strained against the ice. "This extra sucker-punched me! I was defending myself!"
"After you called Quirkless people useless dead weight," I replied coldly.
He looked at Todoroki. "Release them."
Todoroki placed his right hand on the ice. It cracked and fell away, leaving my legs numb and Bakugo stumbling slightly.
"Todoroki, good intervention. Next time, inform a teacher instead of taking matters into your own hands."
Todoroki nodded once, already turning away as if the entire incident no longer concerned him.
"Bakugo and Murano," Aizawa added, his bloodshot eyes locked on mine. "Follow me. Now."