The morning sun pierced through the large windows of Class 1-A, creating a natural stage that seemed tailor-made by the universe itself for his arrival. The massive front door of the classroom swung open with a forceful push, slamming against the stopper with a satisfying thud.
At the threshold stood Fuse Yasushi. Feet planted shoulder-width apart, one hand on his hip, the other arm outstretched wide toward the sky, as if about to embrace the entire world—or, more accurately, claim it.
"Good morning, everyone!" he shouted, his voice clear and brimming with confidence, echoing off the classroom walls. "The number one has arrived! Rejoice, you common folk, for you get to witness the rise of this future number-one hero live and without an entrance fee!"
The effect was instantaneous. The room, previously filled with the morning buzz of chatter and the scraping of chairs, fell deathly silent. A hush blanketed the space. Several students turned with mouths agape, others furrowed their brows, and Iida looked as though he were mentally processing a noise violation.
Hah… that's exactly how it should be, Fuse nodded in satisfaction within his mind, lowering his arm with graceful flair. Silence is the highest form of respect. They're mesmerized. They're spellbound.
His sharp eyes swept across the classroom, assessing his audience. His gaze paused on Ochako Uraraka. The round-faced girl was holding a pen, eyes wide as she stared at Fuse, her hand hovering over an open notebook.
A small smile bloomed on Fuse's lips.
Ah, look at that. She's writing, he thought. She must be noting the date and time of my arrival. Trying to record this historic day in her personal journal. "Today, Fuse-sama greeted us with divine light." Of course! That's exactly how a historian should work.
But the moment of admiration was shattered by a harsh, irritated tongue-click.
"Shut up, weirdo!"
The voice came from the middle row. Katsuki Bakugo sat there, his feet—once again—propped up on the desk. But something was different today. Faint bags shadowed his fierce face, and his posture slumped slightly more than usual.
Fuse wasn't offended. Instead, he strolled closer with casual steps, hands tucked into his pockets. He studied the blond boy with an analytical, condescending gaze.
"You look tired, Toddler," Fuse said, stopping right in front of the boy's desk. He leaned forward slightly, grinning. "Did you not sleep well? Or… are you still frustrated from failing to surpass what stood before you in yesterday's test?"
Bakugo stiffened. His red eyes glared sharply at Fuse.
"Good!" Fuse continued without giving Bakugo a chance to speak, his tone shifting to that of a mentor advising a slow student. "That's the spirit! Someone like you—a character with average talent who relies on emotional explosions—really has to train hard so you don't fall behind a genius like me!"
The grinding of Bakugo's teeth rang clearly through the silent classroom. Thin smoke smelling of burnt caramel began rising from his palms.
"DON'T GET COCKY, YOU BASTARD!" Bakugo roared, slamming his palms onto the desk hard enough to leave small scorch marks. "YOU'RE TOO FULL OF YOUR OWN ARROGANCE!"
Fuse merely blinked, completely unfazed.
Of course he'd never admit it! Fuse thought with amusement. An NPC like him has sky-high pride. He's the tsundere type who refuses to look weak in front of his idol.
"I know, I know…" Fuse chuckled softly, waving his hand casually as if dismissing Bakugo's explosion smoke. "I know you're too embarrassed to admit it. It wounds your fragile ego, doesn't it? Because back in the little pond of your middle school, you were the big fish always on top. But now you're in the ocean…"
Fuse locked eyes with Bakugo, his smile turning into a predatory grin.
"Relax. You'll get used to it here, because you'll always be beneath me. But don't worry—as the kind-hearted protagonist, I'll even protect you from the bad guys… as long as you don't act naughty like an untrained dog."
Bakugo's face flushed crimson with pure rage. Veins bulged in his neck and temples.
"YOU PIECE OF—! DIE!"
Bakugo leaped from his chair. His right hand swung forward, a massive explosion already primed at his fingertips to blast Fuse's handsome face into ash.
But Fuse didn't move. He didn't blink. He didn't even take his hands out of his pockets.
Only his gaze sharpened.
CLACK!
Suddenly, Bakugo's movement froze mid-air. His body jerked rigid as though he'd slammed into an invisible wall.
"Hah?!" Bakugo gasped, eyes bulging downward.
The metal buttons on his school uniform, his belt buckle, his pants zipper, even the metal eyelets in his shoes—all of them suddenly pulled in opposite directions, pinning his body with tremendous force. The metal pieces became anchors locking him in place.
Fuse walked past the struggling Bakugo, lightly patting the boy's shoulder as he passed.
"Sit down and be a good boy," Fuse whispered.
He glanced at Izuku Midoriya, who was seated nearby. Midoriya's face was pale as paper, his eyes darting between Fuse and Bakugo with pure fear. Fuse interpreted it as concern for his own safety. He gave Midoriya a reassuring smile.
Don't worry, my fan. I've got everything under control.
Fuse reached his desk at the back of the class. He set down his bag and sat comfortably. Meanwhile, Bakugo finally broke free from the magnetic grip once Fuse released the connection, collapsing back into his seat with ragged breaths and muffled curses.
Ignoring the murderous glare from the front, Fuse reached into his pocket. He pulled out four 500-yen coins.
With an almost imperceptible flick of his fingers, the four coins floated from his palm. They began spinning, orbiting one another in the air, forming a glittering atomic sphere.
His thoughts shifted from classroom drama to something far more important: his future.
I need to get stronger, he thought, eyes following the coins' dance. This talent is great, but I need deadlier applications.
First, the costume.
He had already designed a costume that would maximize his quirk. With his experience as an anime lover from his previous world, he had references stored in his head from countless series—especially mecha-themed ones.
Now he just had to wait for it to be finished. But today should be the first day he'd wear it—if the story followed the original canon he remembered.
At that moment, his mind turned to training.
I need heavier weights. I should find a car junkyard. Fuse scrap cars into giant spheres and lift them. I need to test my limits.
His fingers twitched slightly, and the coins spun faster, blurring into streaks.
Then, control. Controlling one large object is easy. Controlling a thousand small ones simultaneously… that's art. Like manipulating metal dust or iron sand. It'll hurt my brain, but it's necessary. I'll get used to it, just like I've done before.
His daydreams of hero-world domination were suddenly interrupted.
The classroom door opened again. This time not with a normal push, but as though blasted open by pure charisma.
"I AM…!"
The deep, thunderous voice filled the room, making the windows rattle.
A giant man in a hero costume—complete with a red cape and absurd muscles—strode in with stiff, exaggerated steps.
"…COMING THROUGH THE DOOR LIKE A NORMAL PERSON!"
The entire class jolted in awe.
"It's All Might!" "Wow, he's really our teacher!" "Look at that Silver Age costume!"
Cheers of admiration erupted. Midoriya's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets with excitement. But in the back seat, Fuse Yasushi stared at the No. 1 Hero with a flat expression. The coins fell back into his palm.
Why is he so dramatic? Fuse thought, exhaling a long sigh. Coming through like a normal person? What part of that was normal? He poses with every step. Truly weird. He must spend 50% of his time practicing poses in front of a mirror.
Fuse rested his chin on his hand, regarding All Might with the bored gaze of a jaded film critic.
Well, at least he has stage presence. Maybe I can learn a thing or two about voice projection from him. But that costume… his fashion sense is truly stuck in the last century.
Fuse then narrowed his eyes, his brows furrowing slightly, forming a small valley on his forehead. His index finger tapped the desk rhythmically—tik-tik-tik. Then he sighed.
This scene… his inner voice whispered, echoing in the chamber of his own consciousness. I'm absolutely certain it's exactly like the original story. All Might, that gaudy costume, even the overly heroic speech. Everything is following the script—no deviations. But…
He stopped tapping. His eyes widened slightly, pupils trembling.
Has my presence here—as an anomaly, as a protagonist who transcended dimensions—changed nothing? Even in a meaningless slice-of-life scene like this? Am I just a ghost passing through? Impossible. I am the gravitational center of this narrative. The world should revolve around me, not the other way around.
Fuse exhaled a long sigh, an invisible plume of disappointment escaping his lips. The world didn't understand him. In the future, when he became the number-one hero, he would correct the world to run according to his will.
For now, he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. His posture radiated relaxed arrogance, as though he were a director evaluating amateur actors performing before him.
All Might, the living Symbol of Peace, continued speaking with explosive enthusiasm. His voice boomed like thunder in the enclosed room, every word delivered with dramatic emphasis, accompanied by sweeping hand gestures.
"I am your instructor for Foundational Hero Studies!" All Might declared, teeth gleaming blindingly. "This is the subject where you will learn the basics of being a hero!"
Fuse nodded slowly, his head moving up and down in a regular, boring rhythm. His eyes, however, looked vacant. He already knew all of this. He had heard it, read it, and analyzed it thousands of times in his previous life.
Why should I listen to a lecture about the wheel when I already know how to drive a race car? he thought cynically. This is just exposition. A level-one tutorial for noobs. No added value for me.
Yet a second later, the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
Well… experience does have its own value. Seeing the number-one hero in person, feeling the oppressive aura of his presence filling the room… that's valuable data. One day, I'll be the one standing there. I'll be the pillar of this world. And when that time comes, I'll do it with far better style than that tight spandex.
He resumed nodding, this time with a mysterious, satisfied smile etched on his face. His eyes closed briefly, envisioning himself atop a tower, cape billowing behind him, while the world cheered his name.
Fumikage Tokoyami, seated beside Fuse, sensed something odd next to him. The corner of his eye caught strange movement. He turned slowly, beak slightly open in confusion. He saw Fuse nodding to himself with closed eyes and a weird smile.
What is this guy doing? Tokoyami wondered. He looks like he's communing with an entity from another dimension. Or maybe he ate something bad at breakfast? Honestly… his behavior gets harder to understand every day. Is this a side effect of being gifted?
Tokoyami stared at Fuse with a mix of amusement and concern, trying to decode his friend's eccentric body language. But before he could reach any conclusion, Fuse's eyes suddenly snapped open.
Those red orbs locked instantly onto Tokoyami. Sharp. Piercing. As though Fuse could see straight through Tokoyami's soul and read every skeptical thought.
Tokoyami flinched. His heart pounded—badum-badum—against his ribs. He hadn't expected Fuse to notice his stare so quickly!
Fuse tilted his head slightly, one eyebrow raised in question. "Huh?" His expression seemed to say: Heh… are you now captivated by my aura, oh follower of darkness? Well, it's not surprising if you suddenly feel my charm even when I'm just sitting quietly thinking.
Tokoyami immediately turned his face forward, staring at the blackboard with exaggerated intensity, as though the secrets of the universe had just been written there. Cold sweat trickled down his back. He pretended to be deeply absorbed in All Might's explanation, even though his ears rang with tension.
Seeing his friend's panicked reaction, Fuse wasn't angry. Instead, he regarded Tokoyami seriously for a moment, analyzing the stiff body language. Then he looked away, shrugging indifferently.
Well, Fuse thought, returning to his own narrative. Sometimes the protagonist's best friend does act strangely. It's a common trope. They often feel intimidated by the protagonist's light, or perhaps they harbor secret admiration they find hard to express. That must be it. He's just shy.
Fuse nodded in satisfaction once more. It was the only logical explanation.
At the front of the class, All Might suddenly stopped speaking. He struck a dramatic pose—one hand on his hip, the other pointing at the ceiling, muscles flexing beneath his costume.
"WITHOUT FURTHER DELAY!" he boomed, voice slicing through Fuse's daydreams. "TODAY'S ACTIVITY WILL BE…"
All Might paused theatrically, building tension.
"…BATTLE TRAINING!"
The entire class jolted. Chairs scraped, excited whispers filled the air, nervous breaths escaped. Midoriya looked both pale and thrilled at once. Bakugo grinned wide, sharp teeth glinting.
But Fuse remained calm. He wasn't surprised. He didn't leap from his seat. He simply wore a perfectly polished bored expression.
Of course, he thought. Battle Trial. The classic early arc. The first test where we're allowed to use costumes and fight. It's exactly as scripted in canon. Hardly surprising for someone who's seen the future.
He crossed his legs, resting his chin on one hand. Battle training… the perfect chance to demonstrate dominance. The chance to prove that theory and practice are different, and I master both.
"And for that!" All Might pointed at the side wall. "You'll need these!"
The wall slid open, revealing neatly arranged metal cases numbered in rows.
"THE COSTUMES MADE TO YOUR QUIRK REGISTRATION AND DESIGN REQUESTS SUBMITTED BEFORE SCHOOL STARTED!"
Cheers erupted. Students rushed toward their cases, faces glowing.
Fuse stood slowly. He didn't run. He didn't need to hurry. He knew his costume was there, waiting like armor for its king. He walked to case number 19, picking it up calmly. The case's weight felt perfect in his hand.
"Change into your costumes and assemble at Ground Beta!" All Might ordered.
Fuse smiled thinly. Then he walked out of the classroom with the flow of students, but his steps were different. He moved with a slow, measured rhythm, as though every step was a statement. He wanted to stand out. He wanted all eyes on him when he stepped onto the battlefield later.
But in the hallway toward the changing rooms, an obstacle appeared.
Katsuki Bakugo stood in the middle of the path, blocking Fuse's way. The blond boy didn't move. His shoulders were tense, fists clenched at his sides. He kept his head slightly lowered, shadow covering part of his face, but a terrifying wild grin was clearly visible.
"Oi," Bakugo growled, voice low and dangerous like a guard dog's snarl.
Fuse stopped, looking at him, refusing to step back even an inch. Instead he stood straight, hands relaxed in his pockets. He regarded Bakugo with a bored gaze, as though looking at an unimportant roadblock.
Why does this side character keep bothering me? Realize you're just annoying someone who wants peace.
Bakugo slowly raised his head. His red eyes blazed with pure hatred.
"This time," Bakugo said, each word pressed with terrifying intensity. "I'll definitely kill you! Don't think you can get away with your cheap tricks again, damn it!"
Bakugo's face twisted into an expression that was a mix of psychotic smile and deep rage. He looked like a demon who had just found its prey.
Fuse regarded the boy. And sighed. He felt no fear. No intimidation.
After all, why would I be afraid of a mob that can't even hurt me?
All he felt was deep amusement.
He's just barking. He's really consistent with his role, Fuse thought. Noisy antagonist. Obsessed rival. Truly commendable dedication. But doing it constantly is so annoying.
Fuse tilted his head slightly, then whistled softly in dismissal. "Oh?" The single syllable carried a thousand meanings—doubt, mockery, and pity—all wrapped together.
Fuse looked Bakugo up and down, his gaze sweeping over the slightly disheveled school uniform, then back to his eyes. It was the look of a noble regarding an angry peasant whose harvest had failed.
"As a side character," Fuse said softly, voice calm yet cutting the air like a razor. "You're awfully stubborn. You're like a fly repeatedly smashing itself against a windowpane, hoping the glass will break."
Bakugo's face flushed crimson. The vein in his temple throbbed. "WHAT DID YOU SAY?!"
Fuse smirked crookedly, a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Very well," he continued, ignoring Bakugo's shout. "I'll look forward to it. Show me your little firecrackers—I'm one hundred percent certain they'll never touch me, Toddler."
Without waiting for a reply, without giving Bakugo a chance to explode, Fuse stepped forward—not dodging, not going around. He simply walked straight toward Bakugo. Thud. Their shoulders collided.
It wasn't a hard collision, but enough to shove Bakugo slightly aside from surprise. Fuse kept walking, passing him by. He didn't look back. There was no need. Even without seeing Bakugo's face now, he could picture it clearly: a mix of shock, humiliation, and explosive rage.
One of Fuse's hands stayed in his pocket, while the other rose, waving casually in the air without turning.
"See you in the arena, Extra."
…
A/N: Hello everyone, sorry for making you wait… this is this week's chapter. Oh, right. Going forward, I plan to schedule updates, so I'll upload 1 or 2 chapter every week on this platform! Umm… and I also intend to upload faster—specifically, I plan to post 3 chapters per week on my Patreon, so feel free to visit if you can't wait!
https://www.pâtreon.com/Junxt
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