Chapter 8: First Confrontation: Genius and Fury
The first few days of regular classes at U.A. were a structured monotony that Sasuke found almost soothing. While Present Mic screamed his way through English lessons and Midnight posed dramatically while discussing Modern Hero Art History, Sasuke was a silent observer in the back of the class. He absorbed every piece of information, his mind a sponge, but his face remained a mask of detached indifference. He used the time to study his classmates. He watched their interactions, noted their alliances, and analyzed the way they spoke about their own Quirks.
He paid special attention to two individuals who orbited each other like warring planets: Bakugo Katsuki and Midoriya Izuku. Bakugo was a creature of pure, unfiltered aggression. His power was an extension of his personality—loud, destructive, and demanding attention. Midoriya was his polar opposite: timid, analytical, yet possessing a terrifying power he seemed to be afraid of. A bomb that was afraid of its own fuse.
The confrontation Sasuke had been anticipating finally occurred during lunch. The cafeteria was a roaring sea of students, a thousand conversations crashing into one another. Sasuke sat alone at a small table, methodically eating a bowl of rice and fish, the chaos of the room fading into a dull, manageable hum.
That hum was shattered by the loud slam of a tray on his table.
"HEY!" a familiar, grating voice barked. "You! Extra! I don't know what your deal is, with your silent act and your stupidly high test scores, but don't think for a second you can look down on me!"
Katsuki Bakugo stood over him, a snarl twisting his lips. His posture was aggressive, a clear challenge to anyone watching.
Immediately, Iida Tenya was on the scene, marching towards their table. "Bakugo-kun! That is highly inappropriate behavior for a U.A. student! Harassing a fellow classmate during the lunch period is-"
"Shut up, Four-Eyes!" Bakugo snapped without looking at him.
Kirishima Eijiro followed, a nervous grin on his face. "Hey, c'mon, Bakugo, be cool, man. We're all classmates here, right?"
From a few tables away, Uraraka and Midoriya watched, their eyes wide with worry.
Through it all, Sasuke did not move. He did not look up. He did not acknowledge Bakugo's presence in any way. He calmly picked up a piece of grilled fish with his chopsticks and brought it to his mouth. This deliberate, profound act of dismissal was a far greater insult to Bakugo's ego than any comeback could have been.
"Are you deaf or just stupid?!" Bakugo roared, his palms beginning to pop and crackle with small, contained explosions. "I'm talking to you! Let's see what you've got, you silent freak. Right here, right now!"
The ambient noise of the cafeteria died. Everyone was watching.
Sasuke slowly, deliberately, finished chewing. He placed his chopsticks neatly across his bowl. Then, finally, he raised his head, his dark, placid eyes meeting Bakugo's furious red ones. His voice, when it came, was quiet, yet it seemed to cut through the silence with the sharpness of glass.
"You're loud," he said. It was not an insult. It was a simple statement of fact. "And your power is just as loud. You broadcast every intention, every attack, before you even move. It's... pathetic."
The final word lit Bakugo's fuse. With a wordless scream of rage, he lunged, his right arm swinging in a wide, powerful hook, his palm already glowing with explosive heat.
Sasuke moved. But it wasn't a dodge, or a block, or any recognizable martial arts technique. It was simpler. It was pure economy of motion. He didn't move his feet. He simply swayed his upper body backwards, a motion so fluid it looked boneless. Bakugo's fist, crackling with energy, sliced through the air, missing Sasuke's face by less than a millimeter. The heat from the explosion washed over him, but he didn't even blink.
In the split second that Bakugo was overextended and off-balance, Sasuke's left hand shot out. It wasn't a punch or a strike. His fingers were open. He gently, almost casually, tapped Bakugo on the point of his shoulder. The 'tap' was imbued with a tiny, imperceptible pulse of chakra, just enough to disrupt Bakugo's center of gravity completely.
Bakugo stumbled forward, his own momentum working against him. He caught himself on a nearby table, spinning around in a blind fury, ready to unleash a massive blast.
But Sasuke was already sitting back down. He had picked up his chopsticks and was preparing to take another bite of rice, his attention no longer on his would-be attacker.
The entire confrontation had lasted less than five seconds. Sasuke hadn't won a fight; he had simply exposed it as a pointless tantrum. He hadn't needed to overpower Bakugo. He had used his opponent's own aggression to defeat him without landing a single blow. The message to the entire room was undeniable: Your power is irrelevant. You can't even touch me.
"That's enough."
The voice was flat, tired, yet it carried an absolute authority that froze every student in place. Shota Aizawa stood at the edge of the crowd, his capture weapon coiled loosely around his neck, his eyes glowing a faint red. He was erasing Bakugo's Quirk. His gaze wasn't on the fuming Bakugo, however. It was fixed on Sasuke, and in their depths was a flicker of something unreadable—not approval, but a sharp, clinical intrigue.
Bakugo was left standing there, his hands now useless, his pride shredded. He had been humiliated not by a defeat, but by being treated as a complete and utter irrelevance. For the first time, perhaps in his entire life, he had encountered a wall he couldn't simply blast his way through. And he hated it.
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