Glancing back at the hushed class, Ryota met the stunned gaze of his homeroom teacher.
‘Heh.
Caught himself.
He wasn’t looking at his device’s display, so he didn’t know my throw’s result.
Yet he looks like I just punched a hole through the moon with that ball.
Obviously, his attempt to stop me from using my abilities failed.’
The conclusions were simple.
Aizawa couldn’t turn off mutant-type or passive enhancement Quirks.
For example, if he looked at Ryota’s old acquaintance Yuriko, her third eye wouldn’t go anywhere.
Following this logic, it was possible that Ryota’s abilities worked as a body enhancement.
But the man’s reaction made it clear that they had figured out the nature of the guy’s powers to some extent.
And that nature should be most vulnerable to the Eraser’s gaze.
Ryota didn’t let any of his thoughts show on his face.
He remained stone-calm.
But at some point, Aizawa flinched and winced in annoyance, realizing he had given himself away.
“Next test,” he grumbled.
“On the track.”
What followed was pure surrealism.
The sprint.
Ryota floated half a centimeter off the ground, then instantly teleported to the other end of the track, simultaneously canceling air resistance.
There wasn’t even a clap.
The standing long jump.
He demonstratively floated into the air, froze in place, and shifted his uninterested gaze to Aizawa, as if to say, “Do I really need to jump if I can fly?”
The grip test.
The device crumbled into pieces under an excessively amplified, directed vector.
Its stronger counterpart, designed specifically for strength-type Quirks, suffered the same fate.
The running long jump.
Same as the standing jump.
The endurance run.
Ryota calmly announced that he could fly indefinitely and that it wouldn’t be a problem for him to even sleep during the “race.”
By the end of the class, Ryota had completed all the tests but wasn’t the least bit tired (it would have been surprising otherwise).
After the first couple of tests, the students overcame their shock, and all sorts of admiring exclamations came from their side.
Throughout the tests, Aizawa continued to watch the guy relentlessly with his gaze, no longer trying to hide his attempts to turn off Ryota’s abilities.
“Well then, I think that’s it. Time to announce the results.” As soon as these words were spoken, the crowd of teenagers instantly fell silent, as if an invisible switch had been flipped.
“Your final score is the total of all your results. If I looked at each one individually, I’d die of old age.”
Scanning the tense students, Ryota noticed one very, very nervous face.
Midoriya Izuku had suddenly realized that of all the tests, the only decent result he’d shown was the ball throw.
And that was only by breaking himself again.
“Oh, by the way, about my expulsion comment earlier. Yeah, that was a lie.”
…
…
“WHAAAT?”
A bunch of shocked faces greeted the teacher’s unexpected words.
Midoriya was particularly expressive, looking as if he had died, reincarnated in another world, died again, and returned to this mortal earth in the span of a few seconds.
“Come on, it was obvious from the start,” a girl with long black hair said with slight surprise in her voice.
Ryota didn’t remember her name, but there was something about yaoi, so he decisively took a couple of steps away from the young-looking schoolgirl.
“It was to make you try harder,” Aizawa commented carelessly on the students’ reaction.
“And since we’re still in class…” He turned his whole body toward Ryota, who was standing somewhat apart.
“You’re entering the harsh world of heroes. Here, a hulking brute and a scrawny weakling can be equally dangerous. You never know what a person’s Quirk is capable of until they use it. Remember that. And with that, class is dismissed.”
Aizawa smirked slyly, completely killing the seriousness of his speech.
“Midoriya, go see the Recovery Girl and have your finger healed. Everyone else, head back to the classroom. Your curriculum plans are on your desks. Familiarize yourselves. I’m leaving.”
As soon as the teacher left, the unruly mass of teenagers, which could only be called “students,” finally got the freedom they wanted and began to bustle noisily in all directions.
She had clearly been waiting for this opportunity since the moment she realized he was in the same class as her.
“So that’s what you meant when you said, ‘You’ll find out soon.'” The girl made an extremely indifferent face, perfectly mimicking the guy in front of her.
Fortunately, this time Ryota was prepared for something like this.
He had thought out various dialogue options in advance.
Being as cold as he had been in elementary and middle school would be stupid this time.
If he had considered those periods of his life as merely a passing phase, then U.A.
High was a much more important stage.
Connections made here could significantly affect his life as a hero.
Yes, pure pragmatism and nothing else.
“I don’t remember introducing myself,” Ryota said, tilting his head slightly toward his shoulder as he looked into the eyes of the slightly embarrassed Uraraka.
“Aizawa-sensei said your name when he called on you,” the girl answered somewhat incoherently.
“Let’s say that’s true…” Ryota didn’t get to finish.
“Um… thank you so much!”
‘Deja vu,’ Ryota inwardly flinched.
Then he carefully (who said fearfully? No such thing!) turned to look over his shoulder.
He saw a dark green mop of hair.
That’s what he saw because its owner was currently bent over in a bow.
“…For what?” Ryota answered the guy, still feeling like this had happened before.
“You saved me during the entrance exam!” The student straightened up, revealing a face red from overwhelming emotion.
Or maybe it was red from pain?
His finger was still broken.
‘Impressive pain tolerance,’ Ryota thought, remembering how he himself had felt from just a crack in his leg back in his old world.
Of course, there was also a huge bruise, but it still looked better than the almost purple finger of the guy standing in front of him.
“You’re welcome…?” Ryota answered Midoriya in a slightly questioning tone, not eager to continue the conversation.
“My name is Midoriya Izuku!”
“I heard…”
“What’s your Quirk?!” The boy fixed a burning gaze on Ryota, causing the guy to almost flinch.
“I saw how you stopped my fall during the exam! You clearly used something other than brute force. And today you showed something completely… tch-ow!” The guy flinched sharply from the pain.
Apparently, Midoriya hadn’t noticed how he had started gesturing wildly during his speech and had aggravated his finger.
But the question itself didn’t go unnoticed.
The students cautiously but not too secretly listened in.
They were also curious about their classmate’s overly strong abilities.
“You should go to the nurse’s office, Midoriya. If you don’t treat injuries like that quickly, there could be complications, even amputation,” Ryota explained the obvious slowly, as if to a foolish child.
Izuku suddenly turned pale and, apologizing, ran off toward the main building, completely forgetting his questions.
He left poor Ryota to the mercy of a crowd of teenagers who hadn’t lost any of their interest.
Have you ever felt like the most delicious piece of cake surrounded by a crowd of people with a sweet tooth?
Fortunately, Ryota had never felt that feeling.
But after this moment, he couldn’t say that with certainty anymore.
The guy quickly scanned the teenagers with his gaze.
Only now did he have the strange feeling that someone was missing.
‘…The little pervert, what’s his name… ah, never mind.
He’s not here,’ Ryota noted mentally.
‘In principle, it’s logical.
Where something is gained, something is lost.
And the grape weirdo isn’t significant enough to cause an imbalance in the class by allowing an odd number of seats.’
For once, this simple thought took Ryota an unusually long time to think.
Apparently, his subconscious was working, trying to at least subjectively delay the moment of interacting with the students.
“Vector Manipulation,” the guy answered the curious crowd decisively.
He was almost certain that everyone who needed to had already drawn the correct conclusions about his abilities and found a common denominator.
So hoping for eternal anonymity would be stupid.
Better he himself remove the veil of secrecy on his own terms, simultaneously confirming the conclusions of the curious, so they would calm down and stop digging and theorizing.
“Um… Vectors are… directions of movement, right?” asked a tall girl who looked older than her age, frowning slightly and looking down thoughtfully.
This time, Ryota remembered her name.
Yaoyorozu Momo.
What a name, indeed.
“Simplified, yes,” Ryota nodded almost imperceptibly.
“Uh… I didn’t understand any of that, but it’s cool!” a blond guy with an electricity Quirk smiled cheerfully.
“Hrmph.”
An annoyed half-snort, half-growl came from behind Ryota.
Already imagining what he would see, the guy looked over his shoulder and saw a scowling Bakugo approaching him, his fists clenched tightly.
“This doesn’t mean anything. You think because you scored the highest on the entrance exam, you’re the best?” The teenager’s eyes were red with barely suppressed anger.
A chill ran down the spines of those present.
The feeling of an impending fight grew stronger.
“Like hell you are, pale face.” Standing on his tiptoes to get level with Ryota’s eyes, Katsuki Bakugo practically spat out.
“I’m going to be the best! You’ll just have to eat my dust!”
He shouted this right in Ryota’s face, then sharply turned and headed for the exit.
It seemed he wasn’t even going to the locker room to change into his everyday clothes.
The teenagers breathed a sigh of relief.
Ryota continued to watch the retreating guy indifferently.
Katsuki Bakugo looked like a mad dog.
And he wasn’t talking about some little lapdog but about a, albeit young but already quite formidable, wolfhound.
However, it was quite difficult for Ryota to perceive him the way others did.
What can an angry dog do when you’re sitting inside a tank with a cheat code for unlimited ammo?
Make him laugh a little, maybe.
***
“So, how did you find him?”
In a well-lit office, on either side of an oval table, sofas littered with all sorts of cushions stood facing each other.
On one of them, looking somewhat endearing due to his small size, sat the director of U.A.
Academy.
Opposite him, on the second sofa, ignoring the presence of his boss, lay sprawled the homeroom teacher of 1-A, Aizawa Shota.
“Not bad. I thought after the entrance exam incident, Izuku Midoriya would start being afraid of his own Quirk and the pain it could cause him. Fortunately, it turned out differently. He just didn’t know how to use it,” the man answered the director in a somewhat exhausted tone.
“I see, I see. Midoriya-kun is, without a doubt, a very strong person capable of overcoming difficulties, even when they manifest as severe physical suffering. And on the hero’s path, he will achieve much. However, right now, I was asking about a different student.”
Aizawa winced as if he had just chewed a not-quite-ripe lemon.
It wasn’t hard for him to figure out who his somewhat comical-looking interlocutor was talking about.
“I couldn’t influence his ability at all,” he grunted and closed his eyes, indicating that the topic was closed for him.
“Hmm… I expected something like that. Further proof that what fuels this child’s powers is not a Quirk.” Aizawa remained silent, true to his intention not to raise the subject of Ryota Arai again unnecessarily.
“However, another point interested me.” Nezu paused, building suspense.
The man sitting opposite, hating himself for it, took the bait and reluctantly opened his eyes, silently asking the other to continue.
He had no doubt that even without directly observing what was happening, the director could see much more than he could.
“I’ve been wondering for a long time,” the overly intelligent little animal snorted cheerfully at Aizawa’s reaction.
“Exactly how this guy controls his powers. Simple willpower wouldn’t account for such filigree precision and consistency. And his shield works even while he sleeps.” Aizawa opened his eyes in surprise at this statement.
He didn’t even ask how Director Nezu knew about that.
He was afraid he’d get an answer.
“However, today, I found a clue.”
The little animal raised his paw, pointing his little finger at the ceiling.
“The ball he threw. I was able to track its trajectory with a sensor. Too bad it burned up in the upper atmosphere, and the data wasn’t very complete. But it was enough to calculate its further trajectory. The ball should have entered orbit. Its trajectory was almost perfect. I think if it weren’t for some random factors, like different weather conditions at high altitude and the insufficient strength of the ball, our planet would have a new satellite. Can you imagine the amount of calculations needed to pull that off?” Aizawa shook his head, slightly stunned.
“Not surprising. And if you also consider this guy’s math results and the teachers’ reviews… It’s getting really interesting!”
Aizawa shuddered at the villainously insane look in Nezu’s eyes.