Chapter 15: The Tax of Silence and a School Morning
The morning sunlight filtered softly through the curtains of Kuma's room, announcing the start of a new day.
Kuma opened his eyes slowly. The high-pitched ringing in his ears had vanished, replaced by a comfortable silence. His body, however, told a different story. His muscles were stiff, as if he had run a marathon while carrying a boulder, and the small adhesive bandage on his forehead was a lingering reminder of the harrowing night he had endured.
He rose from the bed, his bones cracking audibly.
"A new day..." Kuma murmured, touching his slightly swollen lower lip beneath the bandage. "A new mercy."
He put on his gray school uniform, adjusted his round glasses, and headed downstairs.
The kitchen was alive with the comforting, savory aroma of steamed rice, miso soup, and grilled fish. His mother was moving actively between the stove and the table, while his father, Soran, was reading the newspaper and sipping coffee.
"Good morning," Kuma said, his deep, calm voice filling the room.
"Good mor—" His mother paused as she set down a plate of rolled eggs. Her eyes widened as she looked at her son's face. "Bartholomew! What is that?"
His father lowered the newspaper, knitting his brows in concern. "You were fine when you came in yesterday evening. What happened?"
Kuma sat in his chair, which gave a slight creak under his weight. He poured himself some tea calmly before answering.
"Just a minor accident during my night training," Kuma lied smoothly, adding a soft, light chuckle to sell the story. "I was attempting to develop a new movement technique, but I tripped and hit the desk. Gravity is not kind to heavy objects in small spaces."
His mother exchanged a glance with his father. They weren't entirely convinced—Kuma was rarely clumsy—but seeing his relaxed demeanor, they decided not to press him.
"You must be more careful," his mother sighed, placing a massive bowl of rice in front of him—double the standard portion. "You've been pushing yourself hard since entering U.A. Eat well; you need to repair those cells."
"Thank you, Mother."
Kuma began to eat. He didn't eat just for enjoyment; he was "recharging." The rice, the fish, the eggs, the soup... everything disappeared quickly and methodically to replenish the calories his body had burned to contain Midoriya's pain.
Soran watched his son eat in silence. He thought back to the ominous red sphere he had seen hovering behind Kuma last night.
The red ball from last night vanished by morning... and these wounds appeared from nowhere, Soran thought, taking a sip of his coffee. Whatever it is he is doing... he is carrying a heavy weight.
Kuma walked toward U.A. High, the crisp morning air brushing against his face. The streets were alive with the rhythm of the city. The sound of trains rumbling in the distance mixed with the chatter of students in various uniforms. Cherry blossom petals drifted across the pavement, and the imposing glass structure of the academy gleamed under the blue sky.
"Kuma-kun!"
A familiar, eager voice called out from behind. Kuma turned to see Midoriya running toward him, his yellow backpack bouncing on his back, and his right arm—the one that had been shattered yesterday—hanging in a clean white cast.
Midoriya slowed to a stop as he reached the giant, panting slightly.
Kuma turned fully and offered a warm, welcoming smile.
Midoriya's return smile froze instantly when he saw the bandages on Kuma's face.
"Y-You're hurt!" Midoriya gasped, his eyes scanning the bandage on the forehead and the one on the lip. "Your forehead... and your mouth... Did something happen?"
Kuma stopped walking. He placed a large, warm hand gently on top of Midoriya's fluffy green hair.
"Do not worry, Midoriya," Kuma said with a reassuring tone. "I simply tripped in my room last night and fell onto my desk. My large size causes me trouble in tight spaces sometimes."
Midoriya blinked several times, processing this. "You tripped? Really?"
"Really," Kuma nodded. "Now, let us hurry. We do not want to be late for homeroom."
Midoriya walked beside him, accepting the surface explanation. His anxiety quickly shifted back to his passion. "By the way, your analysis in the battle yesterday was amazing! The way you used air pressure to dissipate the ice was genius! I wrote so many notes about it in my notebook..."
Kuma listened quietly, enjoying his friend's vitality. He was happy that the agony which would have kept Midoriya bedridden for days was now just a memory... and a small bandage on Kuma's forehead.
When Kuma entered the classroom, eyes immediately turned to him.
"Ooooh! The Human Tank has arrived!" Kaminari cheered, but he stopped mid-sentence when he saw the bandages. "Huh? Kuma, what's with the face? Did you get jumped on the way home?"
Kirishima and Sero gathered around him.
"It must be Todoroki," Kirishima said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Even though you won, that ice was brutal. Maybe you got hit by some shards and didn't notice because of the adrenaline?"
"Yeah, that makes sense," Sero agreed. "That impact was intense."
Across the room, Todoroki Shoto sat in his seat, watching the scene silently. He narrowed his eyes slightly upon hearing their theory.
I didn't touch him, Todoroki thought. I froze his face, yes, but the ice didn't cut him. That bandage on his forehead... and the blood on his lip... those look like impact injuries or burst vessels, not ice cuts.
He looked at Kuma, who was sitting calmly, taking out his book.
Was he training all night? or is he hiding something else? Todoroki's curiosity about the gentle giant grew.
While the boys were debating, Yaoyorozu Momo was busy at her desk. Her skin glowed faintly as she pulled a small, elegant jar from her arm—using her lipids to construct the molecular structure of medicine.
She stood up and approached Kuma, holding the jar.
"Kuma-san," she said softly, cutting through the chatter. "I noticed the bandages. I created some high-quality medicinal ointment with my Quirk. It will help speed up the healing and hide the bruising."
She placed the jar on his desk. "Please, use it when you return home."
Kuma looked at her with genuine gratitude. "You are very generous, Yaoyorozu-san. Thank you."
She smiled and bowed slightly before returning to her seat, while Mineta bit his handkerchief in the back row. "Why are girls only nice to him just because he's big and hurt? I'll hurt myself too!"
Suddenly, the door slid open.
Aizawa Shota entered. He looked exhausted as always, his eyes bloodshot and dry, holding his yellow sleeping bag like a security blanket.
"Quiet," he said lazily, and the class silenced instantly.
Aizawa stood behind the podium. "I've reviewed the footage from yesterday's battles. Some were good, some... need a lot of work. Bakugo, stop acting like a seven-year-old. And Midoriya, stop breaking your bones every time you breathe."
The two froze in their seats.
"Now," Aizawa sighed. "We have normal school business today. No fighting, no training."
The class sighed in relief.
"You need to pick a Class Representative."
The class exploded with excitement.
"Me! Pick me!" Kirishima shouted.
"I exist for this role!" Mina stood up, dancing.
"A role that requires a high level of sparkle... it is mine!" Aoyama declared.
Iida Tenya slammed his hand on his desk, enforcing silence. "Quiet! This is a serious responsibility! Leading others is not a job for those who just want fame! We must hold a democratic vote!"
"But we've only known each other for a few days!" Tsuyu pointed out. "Everyone will just vote for themselves."
"That is exactly why whoever gets multiple votes will be the most suitable person!" Iida insisted, his hand trembling (because he wanted the role desperately).
Aizawa (who had already zipped himself into his sleeping bag) muttered, "Do whatever you want, just wake me up when you're done."
The Vote
Kuma held the small slip of paper and the pen. He looked around the room.
He thought of Iida, who was trying to enforce order with excessive enthusiasm.
He thought of Yaoyorozu, who possessed a brilliant analytical mind.
He thought of Midoriya, who had a heart that gathered people around him.
Kuma wrote one name in clear, elegant handwriting:
Iida Tenya.
"Order is necessary," he whispered to himself, folding the paper. "And Iida is the embodiment of order."
Minutes later, the results were chalked on the blackboard.
Midoriya Izuku: 3 votes.
Yaoyorozu Momo: 2 votes.
Bartholomew Kuma: 1 vote.
Iida Tenya: 1 vote.
...
The rest of the board was a list of names with '1' vote each (people voting for themselves), and a few unfortunate souls with '0'.
The class was buzzing with noise and chatter as people reacted to the results.
"One vote?" Kuma murmured, looking at the board amidst the noise. "Who voted for me?"
"I did!"
Kirishima grinned from the next row, giving a thumbs up. "A man who can take down Todoroki with a single touch deserves to lead! That's true manliness!"
Kuma blinked, surprised but appreciative.
Meanwhile, Iida was trembling in his corner, staring at his single vote. I voted for Midoriya-kun... so someone else voted for me? Who?!
Midoriya stood at the front of the class, shaking with extreme nervousness, with the calm Yaoyorozu beside him.
"T-Thank you..." Midoriya stammered, looking like he was about to faint. "I-I will do my best..."
The lunch bell rang, ending the peaceful morning period.
Kuma stood up, feeling the ache in his body slowly fading thanks to the breakfast and the ointment (and perhaps the normalizing school atmosphere).
He approached the frustrated Iida and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Do not be disheartened," Kuma said. "Leadership is not defined by a title, but by action. And you already act like a leader."
Iida looked up, his eyes shining behind his glasses. "Kuma-kun... Thank you! I will take those words to heart!"
They all filed out toward the cafeteria, unaware that this gentle peace was merely the calm before a very real storm that would soon strike them at the USJ.
.
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