The clatter of lockers, the hum of morning chatter, the occasional squeak of shoes on the floor. Monday morning at Shinkou High was the same as always.
Except for Takao Arashi.
Two and a half months ago, he would've walked the halls like a ghost, head down, barely noticed by anyone outside his circle of tormentors.
Now?
People looked.
Some subtly. Others…not so much.
"Dude, is that really Takao?" a student whispered near the vending machines.
"No way. Takao was like five-foot-nothing and had arms like spaghetti."
"He's huge now…"
"Look at his eyes, is that a quirk thing?"
Takao stood by the class notice board, checking the week's schedule. He didn't turn around. He didn't need to. The whispers had followed him since first period.
He was used to being watched now.
But not like this.
At 5'10" Takao stood tall and broad-shouldered, his frame forged by his nightly runs, heavy resistance training, and punishing quirk strain. His once-slender build had given way to lean, sculpted muscle, just enough to suggest power, not so much that it looked unnatural.
His black school uniform fit differently now tighter across the chest, looser around the waist, and the buttons across his collarbone strained ever so slightly if he slouched.
His once-messy black hair now fell in soft, unkempt layers, with natural white tips that had appeared the day his quirk awakened a mark left behind by the gods themselves. His blue eyes, once dull and tired, now shimmered faintly with intensity a color too sharp to be mundane, like the heart of a lightning storm.
He was Good-looking now. Striking, even.
But he didn't play into it. No jewley, no swagger and no ego.
Just a calm presence that lingered like ozone in the air.
"Hey, Arashi." A familiar voice shouted out annoyingly loud. "Did you eat lightning for breakfast or something?"
Takao turned, raising an eyebrow.
Kenta Hayashi, class clown and serial instigator, leaned against the window frame with a toothy grin. "Seriously, man. What the hell happened to you? You level up over break or what?"
Takao smirked faintly. "10km run, 100 squats and 100 push-ups."
Kenta snorted. "Bullshit, You look like you've been doing push-ups while fighting bears."
A few kids laughed.
Someone from the next class over peeked in to get a better look at him.
Takao turned back toward his desk without answering. He didn't need to explain.
The day moved on with the usual monotony. Math. Literature. Physics. He kept to himself, scribbling in the margins of his notebook when he wasn't taking actual notes. His stamina training had done more than build muscle it had sharpened his mind. Reaction times, memory, attention to detail all improved under the strain of his quirk.
But the silence was never complete anymore. He noticed it in the little things.
The way people moved aside when he passed through a narrow hallway.
How the teacher no longer looked frustrated when calling on him, as if she'd given up expecting anything.
How the other boys, the ones who used to mock him for being quirkless, now avoided eye contact altogether.
At lunch, he sat beneath the sakura tree in the school courtyard alone, eating quietly. He didn't mind solitude. The hum of electricity beneath his skin was company enough.
He leaned against the trunk and looked up at the leaves rustling in the breeze. 'This is good. Calm. Quiet. I need to enjoy these moments while I can.'
U.A. was creeping closer. Every day, the pressure built. Soon, he'd have to show them what he was capable of. Not just in power but in purpose, will.
But today?
Today was peace.
Across the yard, a few first-years whispered and pointed. Takao glanced at them briefly, then went back to his food. They weren't mocking him. Just… curious.
Let them talk. I'm not here to impress anyone.
A flash of pain spiked behind his eyes. Subtle. Fading fast.
Too much lightning training last night. He'd pushed past the limit again.
But it was worth it.
He looked down at his hand, the faintest flicker of static crackling between his fingers before fading.