"First test: 50-meter dash."
The robotic voice of the timing machine cut through the shimmering, heat-distorted air.
At the starting line stood two figures. Tenya Iida, the engines in his calves humming low like a caged predator, and Tsuyu Asui, crouched with the calm stillness of an amphibian at the edge of a pond.
Fuse Yasushi stood at the sidelines, hands buried in his pockets. His eyes—pair of red gems that drank in light—widened slightly. Not from fear, but from aesthetic appreciation of a perfect biological machine.
BANG!
The starting pistol cracked.
The world seemed to slow for Iida. The engines in his legs roared, spewing blue flames that licked the asphalt.
To Fuse, he no longer looked human—he looked like a projectile.
The air split before him, carving a vacuum tunnel. In three heartbeats, he had already crossed the finish line.
"3.04 seconds."
The numbers flashed on the scoreboard.
The corner of Fuse's mouth lifted into a faint, almost invisible arc. His heart did not race with intimidation. Instead, a cold calculation ran behind his skull.
As I thought, his inner voice whispered, calm as a midnight lake. He's fast. Insanely fast. Like an arrow loosed by Apollo.
Fuse tilted his head slightly, staring at the numbers with a challenging gaze.
Can I be that fast? The question hung for a moment before his ego answered. Why not? I am the protagonist of this universe's stage. The script of this world is written for my victory. I will be number one—whether it's crushing robots or simply outrunning the wind.
Meanwhile, Tsuyu Asui crossed the finish line in long, efficient leaps.
"5.58 seconds."
Fuse nodded faintly.
Fast enough for a side character. As expected from a frog. Solid. Reliable. But not the main star.
After that, Fuse withdrew into his silence.
He stood straight among the noisy crowd of other students. His eyes moved slowly, scanning each classmate's face one by one. He watched Aoyama firing his navel laser, watched Ojiro using his tail. He saw them not as rivals, but as data.
This test allowed students to use their quirks—it was designed to push those quirks to their absolute limits. Think of it as a blank canvas, and my body as the brush.
How will I paint on this canvas? How will I use this quirk to maximize my body and claim the highest score…
His right hand slipped out of his pocket, grasping a silver coin. With a practiced flick of his thumb, he sent it spinning into the air.
Cling.
The coin rotated, catching sunlight and flashing like a tiny disc of light.
Cling.
He caught it, then flicked it again. The metallic ring became the metronome for his racing thoughts.
Cling.
The coin fell back into his palm, and this time Fuse did not toss it again. He closed his fist around it tightly. His body heat seeped into the cold metal. A moment later, a thin, dangerous smile carved itself across his face. His plan had ripened.
"Next group."
His name had been called.
Fuse walked casually to the starting line. His steps were light, as though he were strolling through a park rather than heading into a fate-defining exam. When he reached his position, he glanced sideways.
There stood Katsuki Bakugo.
The boy radiated heat, reeking of sulfur and barely contained rage. Veins bulged in his neck, and his eyes burned with pure murderous intent.
Fuse's smile bloomed fully, unrestrained.
"Looks like I'm up against a baby," Fuse said softly, voice smooth yet razor-sharp, like silk hiding a dagger. "I'm looking forward to your whining scene when you lose."
Bakugo's head snapped toward him. His teeth ground together with an audible, grating screech.
"I'll kill you!" he hissed, every syllable dripping venom.
Fuse merely raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"Can you?"
Bakugo didn't answer with words. His body trembled harder, like a bomb whose countdown had just accelerated.
Fuse turned his gaze forward, toward the finish line fifty meters away. He slipped his left hand into his pocket, dismissing the gravity of the test entirely. His right hand raised the coin, holding it between thumb and middle finger.
"ON YOUR MARK…"
The command hung in the air.
Bakugo crouched low, palms angled backward, ready to blast himself forward.
Fuse did something different. He did not assume a runner's stance. Instead, he raised his arm straight ahead, aiming at the finish line as though holding a pistol.
The coin began to vibrate. A reddish-purple magnetic field enveloped the small metal disc, humming faintly like an angry beehive. Fuse locked onto the molecules in his own belt buckle, creating an invisible magnetic bond between his body and the coin.
He would be the train, and the coin would be the horse pulling it.
He didn't have engine legs like Iida.
He didn't have explosions in his palms like Bakugo.
He only had control over earthly metals.
If he couldn't run fast, then he would be pulled fast.
Or, if possible…
He would simply become the bullet itself.
"START!"
The world exploded into motion.
BOOM!
Bakugo rocketed forward, propelled by a massive blast behind him. But it was too slow.
On the other side, Fuse flicked his finger.
ZINGGGG!
That was not the sound of running.
That was the sound of the atmosphere tearing!
The coin fired on railgun principles—breaking the sound barrier instantly and carving a vacuum tunnel through the air.
A heartbeat later, the coin punched through a distant building and embedded itself there.
The coin could not be pulled back.
Instead, because Fuse's body was magnetically bound to it, he felt himself yanked forward with brutal force.
His body jerked ahead violently. His feet barely touched the ground—only the tips of his shoes scraped the asphalt, sparking a long trail of fire. Wind slammed his face like a hurricane, flattening his cheeks, pulling his red hair straight back.
In that instant, the world blurred. Colors melted into abstract streaks.
In the blink of an eye—less than the time needed to blink—he released the magnetic pull and stopped.
His heels slammed into the ground, arresting the insane momentum. Thin smoke rose from his abraded shoe soles.
Fuse landed beyond the finish line.
Still dazed from the sheer speed, Fuse forced a triumphant smile onto his face—though the corners of his mouth twitched a few times.
"0.146 seconds."
Aizawa's voice came over the loudspeaker, its usual flatness cracked by disbelief. The tired teacher's eyes widened as he stared at his stopwatch as though the device had malfunctioned. Then, slowly, the corner of Aizawa's mouth pulled into a terrifying grin.
"Insane potential," he muttered.
Several seconds later, Bakugo crossed the finish line with one final explosion. He landed roughly, breathing hard.
"Hah… hah…"
Bakugo looked up, expecting victory. Instead he saw Fuse's back—already standing straight, casually brushing dust from his shoulders.
Bakugo's brows knitted together until they nearly touched. His eyes narrowed to pinpricks. His jaw clenched, facial muscles twitching wildly.
To him, the reality in front of him was utterly incomprehensible.
Why is this guy already here?
Since when?!
Fuse turned, looking at Bakugo over his shoulder with a lopsided smirk. "What's wrong? Why are you staring like that? Am I too dazzling for your baby eyes?"
"What…" Bakugo's voice was hoarse, caught in his throat. "What the hell did you just do?" he demanded cynically, though a tremor of shock laced his tone.
His fists clenched at his sides. They shook violently, knuckles white, nails digging into his palms until they nearly drew blood. His gaze bored into Fuse, searching for answers, for weaknesses, for lies. Then his eyes dropped to the ground. His shoulders sagged slightly.
To him, it was an undeniable defeat. Rage boiled over, but the disappointment in himself weighed far heavier.
Seeing it, Fuse fell silent. He lowered his head for a moment, red hair falling over his eyes, hiding his expression.
Then his shoulders began to shake.
"Hah… hahaha…"
Fuse burst into loud, deep, wild laughter. He threw his head back, shaking it in mock disbelief.
"Why would I explain my power to someone else?" he said, voice dripping with theatrical scorn. "Only idiots do that."
Fuse began walking slowly away from Bakugo, hands sliding back into his pockets. He stared blankly at the blue sky, closing his eyes as though savoring his own private victory symphony. Then, from inside his pocket, he pulled out the coin again and lazily spun the metal in the air, letting it dance between his fingers.
"I've seen it so often in movies—villains explaining their abilities to their enemies. Detailing their tricks, dissecting their strategies. And in the end? They lose." Fuse snorted. "How stupid. How pathetic."
His steps halted. He turned halfway, looking back at Bakugo, who remained frozen in place.
"I won't fall for the same trick those idiotic villains do."
The corner of Fuse's mouth pulled higher, forming a sharp, challenging grin. His red eyes glinted, piercing straight into Bakugo's fracturing soul.
"Besides…" Fuse tilted his head, his voice shifting into slow, painful mockery. "Why would I explain anything to a shrimp brain like yours?"
Bakugo flinched as though slapped.
"Can't you think for yourself?" Fuse continued mercilessly. "You're supposed to be an adult, right? Or at least your body looks like it."
The grinding of Bakugo's teeth rang out clearly, like stone being crushed. His jaw clenched so hard the veins in his neck stood out like steel cables. His clenched fists sparked with small, uncontrolled explosions—his emotions on the verge of nuclear detonation.
Fuse watched the reaction. He saw the pure rage, the boiling frustration, the brutally wounded ego. And to him, it was the most beautiful sight of the day.
"Oh, sorry," Fuse said with fake remorse, lightly tapping his own forehead. "I forgot you're just a baby."
His smile stretched wide, revealing a row of white teeth that contrasted sharply with the dark aura around him. His breath still came slightly quick from the run, but his eyes shone sharp with absolute victory.
He looked straight into Bakugo's eyes—wet with fury—and delivered the final line.
"Gonna cry?"
…
The sky above U.A. had transformed, abandoning the bright blue of day for a gradient of burning orange and bruised purple. The sun slipped westward, stretching the shadows of skyscrapers into dramatic silhouettes across the streets.
Fuse Yasushi stepped out of the massive school gates, his gray uniform slightly rumpled after an… intense first day. Beside him walked Tokoyami Fumikage, hands in his pockets.
The sound of their footsteps mingled with the evening traffic. For a while there was only comfortable silence between them—the kind shared by two people who had known each other long enough. But Tokoyami, usually sparing with words, suddenly broke it.
"You were too explosive today… Fuse," Tokoyami said, his deep, raspy voice flat yet carrying sharp observation.
Fuse paused to gaze at the changing sky, then snorted softly.
"I just really don't like that bastard," he replied, Bakugo's furious face flashing through his mind. "He's so arrogant—the clichéd antagonist type who thinks he's the center of the universe just because he can make fireworks with his hands. I felt like wiping that smug grin off his face with a single flick."
Tokoyami glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "You're not that different…"
The words brought Fuse's steps to a complete halt. He whipped his head toward his friend, brows furrowed deeply in genuine offense.
What?! his mind screamed. Why would he say that? That's a baseless accusation! Bakugo is the definition of the worst kind of person. He's a bully, crude, and he's tormented Midoriya since childhood just because of his fragile ego! Don't compare me to him! I'm the protagonist! I stand for justice! I've never done anything wrong—at least not to anyone who didn't deserve it!
Fuse laughed—a short, forced laugh. "Me? Why would you think that, oh Lord of Darkness?"
Tokoyami sighed long, a thin plume of breath escaping his beak. "You love showing off," he stated bluntly. "And you're loud. Those are the two most obvious similarities between you and him."
"Hah! Showing off? Me?" Fuse burst into genuine laughter now, the sound echoing off the school fence. He spread his arms wide. "Don't joke, Fumikage! I never show off. Showing off is exaggerating your abilities to seek attention. What I do is accurately demonstrating what I'm capable of. That's not showing off—that's stating facts! Scientific facts!"
He resumed walking while continuing his defense. "And loud? That's called vocal charisma. A leader needs to sound convincing. Bakugo just yells like a chihuahua caught in a door. There's a huge difference."
"Whatever," Tokoyami muttered. "We all have our own opinions. My energy is spent for today dealing with you."
Tokoyami's stomach then let out a soft growl—a small rumble that contrasted with his serious demeanor.
Fuse grinned, instantly forgetting their debate. "Hungry?"
"A little," Tokoyami admitted. "Aizawa-sensei's tests were exhausting."
"Yeah, that caterpillar man really doesn't hold back on the first day. 'Logical ruse,' he calls it. Tch," Fuse sneered, but then his eyes lit up. "Want to scout for food? I'm sure there's some hidden culinary paradise around here untouched by common tongues."
"Around here?" Tokoyami sounded doubtful.
"Of course!" Fuse nodded enthusiastically. "Think about it—we'll be at U.A. for the next three years. This is our base of operations. We should map the surroundings now. Escape routes, best hiding spots, and of course, the greatest ramen joint. Also…"
Fuse's tone grew slightly more serious, eyes narrowing as he scanned the alleys across the street.
"…we should memorize the area in case something unpleasant happens. Surprise attack, alien invasion, or just annoying reporters."
Tokoyami rolled his eyes, though his beak curved slightly in amusement. "You're too dramatic, Fuse. This is U.A. The surrounding area has top-tier security and powerful heroes patrolling every hour. The chance of an attack on the outer perimeter is practically zero."
"Zero is not impossible, my friend," Fuse interrupted, raising a finger. "History and story plots teach us that the safest places are often the most dangerous because people let their guard down. No harm in being thorough, right?"
Without warning, Fuse slung his heavy arm around Tokoyami's shoulders, pulling his shorter friend closer.
"A good hero understands his territory!" Fuse declared, pointing at a flickering neon sign in the distance. "And a great hero never lets his stomach stay empty! Look—'Uncle Gen's Soba Shop.' The name sounds like a place where a disguised old martial arts master is hiding. Let's go!"
"Fine," Tokoyami said, tone flat as ever.
But Fuse caught it. From the corner of his eye, he saw the edge of Tokoyami's beak lift in a faint smile. Heh, that's my charm. Even darkness can't resist the protagonist's charisma.
…
The savory aroma of sizzling hamburg steak filled the Yasushi family dining room, wrapping the space in warmth that contrasted with the cool night breeze outside. Homemade sauce—thick, dark brown, and glossy—coated the thick patty perfectly. Beside it, steaming white rice promised the comfort sorely needed after a first day full of "extra" drama.
Fuse sat in his chair, posture straight yet relaxed, wielding knife and fork with the elegance of an exiled noble dining among commoners. He cut his burger into precisely symmetrical pieces before placing them in his mouth.
Not bad, he thought as the juicy meat burst on his tongue. At least Mom knows how to treat her exhausted son.
Across the table, his father Isamu was pouring water into his glass, while his mother Sakura had just sat down after placing a large salad bowl in the center.
"How was your first day, Fuse?" Sakura asked, breaking the silence filled only by the clink of cutlery. Her voice was gentle, brimming with the enthusiasm of a mother eager to hear if her son had made new friends or conquered the school.
Fuse swallowed calmly, then dabbed the corner of his mouth with a cloth napkin. He adopted a deliberately bored expression, as though he had just returned from a dull errand to the post office.
"Ordinary," he replied, tone flat and slightly dismissive. "Like any school. There are buildings, blackboards, and of course, students."
He scooped rice with his chopsticks, holding it up as if inspecting the grain quality.
"But unfortunately, many of the students are childish. It seems they were never taught manners in their entire lives, Mom. It felt like walking into a wild animal enclosure."
Isamu raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his son's cynicism. "Oh? I thought U.A. only accepted the best of the best."
Fuse snorted, a sound full of pure disdain. The image of Katsuki Bakugo screaming with bulging neck veins flashed in his mind, nearly ruining his appetite.
"Their definition of 'best' apparently needs revision," Fuse said, stabbing a carrot piece with slight aggression. "For example, there's this one guy. He has an explosion Quirk. Like cheap fireworks coming out of his palms. But the real problem isn't his mediocre power—it's his attitude."
Fuse leaned forward, eyes narrowing, ready to launch into storytelling mode.
"He's so rude you want to punch him just to reset his brain to normal function," Fuse continued. "Imagine—on the very first day, he tried to pick a fight with someone weak, a kid who looks like he'd faint if you blew on him. How embarrassing! Attacking someone who won't even meet his eyes? And this guy says he wants to be a hero? Tch. I'm a little disappointed U.A. let him into the class. Their moral standards are questionable."
Sakura set down her glass, her face creasing with mild worry. "He sounds frightening… he didn't hurt you or your classmates, did he?"
A small, confident smile bloomed on Fuse's lips. This was his moment—the moment to polish the narrative so he appeared as the guardian angel.
"He tried," Fuse said with heavy drama. "His palms were already sparking, threats already shouted. But of course, it didn't happen. Because I was there."
He puffed out his chest proudly, chin held high.
"I stepped forward and calmed him down. With charisma and just the right amount of intimidation, I brought the situation back under control. Someone had to be the adult in the room, and naturally, that role fell to me."
Isamu nearly choked on his water. He coughed lightly, then looked at his son with flat skepticism. Doesn't Dad believe me? How could he not!?
"Yes," Isamu said dryly, wiping his mouth. "You do seem like the type who could 'calm' someone down. Very subtle diplomacy, I'm sure."
Fuse's eyebrow twitched. His father was too sharp.
"That's a hero's duty, Dad," Fuse nodded, ignoring the sarcasm. "Protecting the weak and disciplining the wicked. Maintaining narrative balance so it isn't dominated by loud antagonists."
Sakura sighed in relief, though faint worry lines remained on her forehead. She shook her head gently.
"Just… please don't get into fights, Fuse. It's not good. You're there to learn, not to be the moral police for your classmates."
Fuse resumed cutting his burger, hiding a thin, dangerous smile behind his fork.
"I have no interest in fighting him, Mom," Fuse snorted. "He's just a minor nuisance. A buzzing fly."
"Besides the explosion kid, how were the teachers?" Isamu asked, steering the topic toward academics. "Who's your homeroom teacher? A famous hero?"
Fuse gave a short, humorless laugh. "Famous? Hah. He looked like he'd just woken up after sleeping in a dumpster for a week. His name's Aizawa. He entered the classroom inside a yellow sleeping bag like a giant caterpillar."
"Goodness," Sakura covered her mouth. "You're serious?"
"Deadly serious. But…" Fuse paused, recalling Aizawa's Quirk-erasing stare. There was reluctant respect he would admit. "He's rational. He jumped straight into physical tests on the first day and threatened to expel the last-place student. He's the harsh-but-effective mentor archetype. I respect his efficiency in weeding out useless trash."
"And you? What rank?" his father asked.
The night continued with light conversation, during which Fuse kept embellishing his first-day stories—turning every small event into heroic epics with himself at the center. To Fuse, it was an exclusive press conference for his number-one fans.
…
A/N: Haha… sorry. It's been a really long time, hasn't it… sorry for seeming to abandon this story and focusing on the other fanfic instead. Well, that other fic is almost finished, so I can focus on continuing this one to completion. I hope some of you are still out there enjoying this fanfic, maybe? Anyway, here's the latest chapter. Once again, I'm really sorry T-T
You can see the next chapter sooner on my patreon whose link is below:
https://www.pâtreon.com/Junxt
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