Chapter 11: The Law of Conservation
Midoriya stopped walking, looking at Kuma with a face twisted in confusion and lingering adrenaline. His broken finger throbbed with a sharp, rhythmic agony that made sweat bead on his forehead.
"An experiment?" Midoriya asked, his voice shaking. "What do you mean, Kuma-kun?"
"Give me your hand," Kuma said calmly, extending his massive palm.
Midoriya hesitated for a split second, but the quiet confidence in the giant's eyes made him slowly lift his injured hand. Kuma gently held Midoriya's wrist with his left hand, while raising his right hand. The pink paw pad glowed with a faint, unusual light.
"My theory is that my ability is not limited to physical matter," Kuma explained, his voice low, as if hypothesizing to himself. "Air, attacks, solid objects... these are tangible. But what about nerve signals? What about abstract concepts like... pain?"
Before Midoriya could process the words, Kuma tapped the broken, swollen finger very lightly.
"Extract."
Midoriya didn't feel any additional pressure. Instead, he felt a sudden, rushing coldness, as if an invisible hand had reached inside his bone and pulled out the heat and the throbbing pulse.
Midoriya's eyes widened. "Eh?"
From the back of Midoriya's hand, a strange red substance began to leak out. It wasn't blood. It was energy—tiny red bubbles that gathered and condensed until they formed a sphere the size of a fist... shaped distinctly like a thick, glowing cat's paw.
The red bubble floated into the air, hovering slowly to settle over Kuma's right shoulder, rotating with an ominous silence.
Midoriya moved his finger. The bone was still broken, the skin still purple and swollen, but...
"It doesn't hurt..." Midoriya whispered, flexing the broken digit with a mix of horror and delight. "The pain is completely gone! How?!"
Kuma adjusted his glasses, observing the red bubble with scientific curiosity. "As I suspected. I have repelled the nerve signals of pain out of your body. The physical damage remains, so you are not healed. But the suffering... has been extracted."
Midoriya stared at his hand. "I... I still need to go to the nurse's office to get a splint. But this... this makes walking there a lot easier. Thank you, Kuma-kun."
In the locker room, the scene was chaotic.
"No way!" Kirishima shouted, grabbing Midoriya's hand and inspecting it. "You're saying you feel zero pain? Even though it looks like a mashed eggplant?"
"I swear!" Midoriya said enthusiastically, waving his hand. "It feels strange, like the finger isn't mine, but there's no pain at all!"
The students gathered around Kuma, who was changing his clothes slowly. The strange red bubble was still floating, following him like a loyal, ghostly pet over his shoulder.
"So," Kaminari asked, staring at the bubble. "You're strong, fast, you can jump like a rocket, and now... you're an anesthesiologist too? Is there anything you can't do?"
Kuma buttoned his shirt. "My ability reflects almost everything. I merely wanted to test if I could separate 'sensation' from 'body.' It appears the trial was successful."
In the corner of the room, Iida Tenya was wiping his glasses with extreme seriousness. "That is completely outside the box. We usually focus on offense and defense, but to think of 'repelling pain'... no one would have thought of that application."
Todoroki Shoto, who was silently closing his locker, paused. He looked at Kuma and the red ball hovering over his shoulder.
"A Quirk with deep and intelligent applications," Todoroki muttered, his voice cold but carrying a hidden note of respect. He slung his bag over his shoulder and left the room.
However, not everyone was impressed.
Clang!
A violent metallic sound echoed through the room. Bakugo slammed his locker door shut with enough force to dent it. He didn't look at them. He grabbed his bag and stormed out, a dark aura of fury surrounding him.
Damn it all... Bakugo thought as he stomped down the hallway. He can even manipulate injuries? Does he think everything is just a toy to him? Does he think he's above the rules of this world?
Kuma returned home as night fell.
Dinner was a quiet affair, but the atmosphere was slightly different tonight. Kuma sat at his usual spot, eating with his parents. The red sphere—Midoriya's pain—was still there, floating silently near the refrigerator, casting a faint crimson glow on the kitchen tiles.
His father, Soran, eyed the object warily over his bowl of rice. "Bartholomew... what is that floating thing?"
"It is a remnant of today's lesson," Kuma answered, glancing at the bubble. "I attempted a new application of my power. It seems I do not fully understand how to dissipate it yet."
His mother looked at the ominous red glow, then at her son. "It looks... heavy. Just make sure you don't hurt yourself, Bartholomew."
"I will be careful," Kuma nodded.
After dinner, he went up to his room and closed the door.
Kuma sat on the edge of his bed. The room was dark, illuminated only by the moonlight filtering through the window and the soft, pulsing red light of the bubble that floated to stop directly in front of him.
He stared at it. It was small, harmless-looking. But he knew what it contained.
He needed to know the cost. He needed to understand the burden he had taken from his classmate.
Slowly, Kuma extended his index finger toward the glowing red paw.
"Let us see."
His fingertip touched the surface of the bubble.
Zzzzt!
It wasn't an explosion. It was an instantaneous, concentrated transfer.
The entire red sphere rushed into Kuma's finger in a split second, traveling up his nervous system like a lightning bolt.
"Gh...!!"
Kuma's massive body went rigid. The veins in his neck bulged. He didn't scream, but the air was forced out of his lungs in a sharp, choked exhale.
The agony of a broken bone tore through his body—not just in his finger, but echoing through every nerve for a fleeting, terrifying moment. It was pure, raw, undiluted pain.
The shock lasted only a second, then faded, leaving behind a dull numbness.
Kuma sat there in the dark, panting silently, cold sweat glistening on his forehead.
He raised his hand to his face. He felt something warm and wet.
He looked at his palm. In the moonlight, a single dark drop of blood had fallen from his nose.
Kuma stared at the blood, then slowly clenched his fist.
"Contained," he whispered, his voice raspy.
He wiped the blood with a tissue and lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling.
He had learned a valuable lesson tonight. His ability was not free. He could remove the suffering of others, yes... but that suffering had to find a destination. If he did not direct it toward an enemy... then he had to bear it himself.
"The law of conservation of energy," Kuma murmured into the silence. "If I take it from one place... it must go to another."
He closed his eyes, drifting into sleep, understanding now that the path of a hero was heavier than he thought—and far more interesting.
.
.