As soon as the teacher shouted, "Go!", the boys exploded off the starting line. Sneakers slammed against the track, breaths puffing sharply in the cold morning air. Every one of them pushed forward with everything they had, elbows swinging, laughter erupting as they pulled ahead of the green-haired boy trailing behind.
Izuku's name was already on their lips—mocking, confident, dismissive.
Katsuki smirked without even looking back. 'Knew it. He wasn't anything special.' He leaned forward, ready to cruise into first place just to rub it in.
But then—
FWOOOSH—
A sharp gust of wind blasted past the group, rustling their hair and shirts like a sudden storm rolling through. The boys stumbled, blinking as the world blurred for a heartbeat.
And there he was.
Izuku.
Already standing at the finish line.
Frozen. Eyes wide. As if even he couldn't comprehend what just happened.
Katsuki skidded to a halt moments later, disbelief twisting across his face, followed by the other boys who nearly tripped over their own feet trying to stop. Their chests heaved, lungs burning, but neither the shock nor the confusion allowed them to breathe.
They all stared.
Izuku wasn't panting. Izuku wasn't even sweating.
He simply stood there with a calm, steady breath—like he'd just taken a short walk instead of blitzing past every single person on the track.
The teacher's jaw hung open. He frantically scanned the track, trying to recall when Izuku passed him, but he came up empty. The last time he'd seen the boy, Izuku had been in last place, struggling to keep up. And now…
"I— Midoriya? When did you—?"
Izuku didn't answer. He quietly stepped off the track, picked up a paper cup, and drank some water, letting the murmurs behind him buzz like distant static.
'I don't know why… but I don't even feel anything about winning. It's like it doesn't matter.'
The thought drifted through him with unsettling clarity—almost boredom.
He sat down on a bench, rolling the cup between his fingers.
That's when the girls swarmed him.
"Midoriya, here—use this towel!"
"You must be exhausted, right?"
"Do you want more water?"
They crowded around him, leaning in with bright eyes and flushed cheeks, offering towels, drinks, even snacks. One girl fanned him gently while another tried wiping the nonexistent sweat from his forehead.
Izuku sighed softly, leaning back against the bench with a tired look that didn't come from running.
'I can't wait to leave this school…'
Gym class ended, and the boys scattered out like they always did—loud, sweaty, and eager to get home. Izuku stayed behind, taking his time. He stepped into the quiet locker room, the air still warm from freshly emptied showers.
Steam clung faintly to the mirrors as he dried himself off and began applying lotion across his arms and chest, muscles subtly defined now from months of intense training.
He barely noticed how empty the place was until he closed his locker.
That's when he heard footsteps.
Katsuki and his two goons stood blocking the exit, shadows stretching across the tiles.
"Looks like little Deku got a growth spurt," Katsuki sneered, hands shoved into his pockets, chin lifted with that old familiar arrogance. "Probably thinks he's the shit now."
The two followers burst into laughter—loud, stupid, hollow—the kind of laugh meant to boost the ego of the guy standing in front.
Izuku didn't even look up. He continued rubbing the lotion on his arms, his expression bored. Every second he ignored them made Katsuki's jaw twitch harder.
Once he was done, he put on his uniform shirt… or tried to.
It stretched across his shoulders, tight against his chest and back.
He tugged the collar, testing it.
'Great… I actually outgrew this thing. I need a new one,' he thought, annoyed more by the shirt than the three idiots staring at him.
He buttoned it up anyway, grabbed his bag, and walked toward the exit—still not sparing them a single glance.
That's what finally made Katsuki snap.
A hand clamped hard on Izuku's shoulder.
"You must've forgotten what happened before," Katsuki growled, veins rising on his forehead. He swung a punch toward the back of Izuku's head—fast, reckless, and full of spite.
But Izuku's hand shot up like lightning.
He caught Katsuki's wrist mid-swing.
A beat of silence.
Then—
WHAM—
Izuku pivoted, pulled, and flipped him clean over his shoulder. Katsuki's body crashed onto a bench so hard the wood splintered beneath him. The entire bench cracked in half.
Crack!
Katsuki hit the floor with a choked groan, air fleeing his lungs. His eyes rolled for a second, dazed from both the shock and the impact.
Izuku turned.
The goons froze.
He stepped toward them—and with a single pump-fake swing of his arm, both of them flinched like terrified toddlers about to get scolded. One even yelped.
Izuku smirked. Not arrogantly. Just tired—tired of them, tired of the drama, tired of the stupidity.
He slung his bag over his shoulder filled with his gym clothes, and walked right past them.
'Those martial arts classes helped a lot,' he thought casually as he stepped out of the locker room, leaving the three.
---
Class passed by quickly after that. The afternoon sun poured through the windows, painting the room gold as Izuku packed up his books. Katsuki and his crew were already gone. No taunts. No threats. Just… gone.
'Wonder what they've planned today,' he thought with a sigh. He slid on his headphones and pressed play.
A familiar beat hit.
'Good thing they still got Kanye on Musicfy.'
He bobbed his head lightly as he stepped out of the school gates.
The walk home was calm until he cut through the small park—a shortcut he always took.
Today, though…Something was off.
Groups of boys from school stood scattered around the playground, benches, and path—way too many for coincidence. They weren't talking. They weren't walking. They were just… standing. Waiting.
Izuku exhaled through his nose.
'A bunch of delinquents in a park… man, this is textbook.'
He paused, slid one headphone off, scanning the area.
'My first gang fight. I feel like I'm in Tokyo Revengers… nah, more like Beelzebub. Man I loved that anime.'
Hands in his pockets, he stepped forward.
Calmly. Almost amused. Because if they were here for him. They had no idea what they were walking into.
TO BE CONTINUED