The outdoor training ground sprawled before us like an arena built for gladiators. The sun hung high overhead, casting a golden glow across the lush green grass and the various measurement devices scattered across the field. I could see the markings for the 50-meter dash, the grip strength machines, the sand pit for the long jump, and the chalk circles for the ball throw. Everything was pristine, organized, and waiting.
I stood among my classmates, my heart thrumming with a familiar rhythm. The drumbeat pulsed softly in my chest, a constant companion that had grown stronger with each passing year of training. Today, I would show them what I was capable of. And finally, I would prove that the power Nika had given me was not wasted.
Aizawa stood at the front of the group, his capture weapon coiled around his neck like a serpent waiting to strike. His tired eyes swept over us, assessing, calculating. He held a small device in his hand—a tablet that would record our scores.
"First test," he announced, his voice flat and unyielding. "50-meter dash. You'll run from that line to the opposite end. Use your quirks however you see fit. Speed is the only thing that matters."
A murmur of anticipation rippled through the group. Students began stretching, loosening their limbs, preparing for the sprint. I rolled my shoulders, feeling the familiar warmth of the Nika form stirring beneath my skin.
I don't need to transform fully for this, I thought. Just a little enhancement. A subtle distortion from reality will do.
The first group stepped up to the starting line. Iida, naturally, was among them. His engines hummed with power, steam rising from his calves as he prepared to launch. Beside him, Bakugo cracked his knuckles, small explosions popping from his palms. Uraraka bounced on her heels, her brown hair swaying with each movement.
"Ready," Aizawa called out. "Go."
The starting signal blared, and they were off.
Iida shot forward like a rocket, his engines roaring as he propelled himself across the field. Bakugo was close behind, his explosions propelling him in a series of rapid bursts. Uraraka touched her own clothes, lightening her body to reduce resistance, but she still lagged behind the two powerhouses.
Iida crossed the finish line first. 3.04 seconds. Bakugo was right on his heels. 3.15 seconds.
I watched carefully, analyzing their techniques. Iida's approach was linear, efficient, but predictable. Bakugo's was chaotic, powerful, but less controlled. Both had their strengths and weaknesses.
I can beat them both easily, I realized. But I need to be smart about it.
---
My turn came faster than I expected. I stepped up to the starting line, my body thrumming with energy. Beside me stood Todoroki, his heterochromatic eyes fixed on the finish line with an intensity that bordered on cold. On my other side was Midoriya, his face pale with anxiety, his fingers twitching nervously.
"Ready," Aizawa called out.
I took a deep breath and reached for the drumbeat. It surged in response, flooding my limbs with warmth. I didn't transform fully—not yet—but I let the distortion field ripple beneath my feet, creating a subtle layer of energy that would reduce friction and increase my speed.
"Go."
The starting signal blared, and I launched myself forward.
The world blurred around me. The distortion field propelled me faster, my feet barely touching the ground. I stretched my legs slightly, extending my stride beyond normal human limits. The wind whipped past my ears, and I felt a grin spread across my face.
Todoroki was beside me, ice forming beneath his feet as he slid across the field at incredible speed. Midoriya stumbled out of the gate, his quirk failing to activate properly.
But I was faster.
I crossed the finish line in a blur of motion, my feet skidding to a halt on the grass. Aizawa glanced at his tablet, his eyebrow raising slightly.
"3.01 seconds," he announced. "New record for this class."
A ripple of murmurs spread through the group. I saw Bakugo's eyes narrow, his jaw clenching with barely contained frustration. Todoroki's expression remained impassive, but I caught a flicker of something in his gaze—curiosity, maybe.
Good, I thought. Let them wonder. I haven't even gone all out yet.
---
The next test was grip strength. The machine stood in the center of the field, a metal handle connected to a digital display. One by one, the students stepped up and squeezed with all their might, their quirks enhancing their strength.
Kirishima's Hardening allowed him to score an impressive 540 kilograms. Bakugo managed 480 with the force of his explosions. Todoroki didn't bother using his ice, scoring a modest 350.
When my turn came, I stepped up to the machine, my mind already racing with possibilities. I didn't need to just squeeze—I could do more.
I transformed partially, my right arm shifting into the Nika form. The skin became rubbery, elastic, and I felt the distortion field coil around my hand like a second skin. I gripped the handle and squeezed, but instead of just applying pressure, I let the distortion field amplify the force.
The machine whirred, the numbers climbing rapidly. 200, 300, 400, 500, 600, 700, 800, 900...
The display stopped at 952 kilograms.
The group fell silent. Even Aizawa's eyes widened slightly.
"How the hell did he do that?" Kaminari blurted out.
I released the handle, my arm reverting to normal. I shrugged, a smile playing at my lips. "I told you. My quirk is more than just stretching."
Momo Yaoyorozu watched me from a few feet away, her dark eyes thoughtful. She was the next to step up, her posture poised and elegant. She squeezed the machine with a delicate but firm grip, scoring an impressive 250 kilograms.
"Impressive," I said, nodding at her.
She turned to me, a small smile on her lips, before pointing at me. "Not as impressive as your score. Your quirk is quite versatile. I've never seen anything quite like it."
I chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. "Thanks. It's taken a lot of training to get this far."
"Training?" She tilted her head, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "You've clearly put a lot of effort into mastering your quirk. I can respect that, especially from someone less fortunate."
I felt a strange sense of connection with her. Momo was brilliant, composed, and driven—qualities I admired. In my first life, I'd never had the chance to meet someone like her due to my background. Now, I was standing beside her, trading compliments like old acquaintances.
"Maybe when you grow stronger, I'll give you some tips.," I said. "I'm always looking to help."
Her smile widened a little. "I'd like that, Suon."
---
The standing long jump came next. The sand pit stretched out before us, a deceptively simple challenge. All we had to do was jump as far as possible.
Most students used their quirks to gain extra distance. Tsuyu's frog-like legs propelled her across the pit with ease. Iida's engines gave him a powerful burst of speed. Bakugo used his explosions to launch himself forward, landing with a crater of smoke and sand.
When my turn came, I didn't just jump. I transformed fully, the Nika form washing over me like a wave. My hair turned white, my eyes gleamed, and the cloud-like frills materialized around my neck. I felt lighter, stronger, more agile.
I crouched low, the distortion field rippling beneath my feet. Then I leaped.
The world seemed to slow down. I soared through the air, my body stretching and twisting in ways that defied physics. I used the distortion field to bend the air around me, reducing drag and extending my flight. I stretched my limbs to gain extra distance, my fingers brushing the far edge of the sand pit.
I landed with a soft thud, the sand puffing up around my feet.
Aizawa's voice was flat, but I could hear the faintest hint of surprise in it. "30 meters. That's the new record."
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the group. I saw Midoriya's eyes wide with awe, his notebook already open as he scribbled frantically. Bakugo's scowl deepened, his fists clenching at his sides.
Momo stepped forward, her expression one of genuine admiration. "That was incredible. How did you extend your flight like that? The physics of it doesn't make sense."
I grinned, the Nika form's playful energy bubbling to the surface. "It's not about physics. It's about freedom. When I'm in this form, I feel like I can do anything. He-hehe." My laugh was so playful, it seemed like I wasn't the same person.
She studied me for a moment, her gaze analytical but warm. "Freedom. That's a fascinating way to describe your quirk."
"I think that's what makes it unique," I said. "It's not just a power. It's a state of being. Like when you just can do anything~ It's incredible!"
---
The repeated side-stepping test was next. A series of red lines marked the ground, and we had to cross back and forth as many times as possible within a set time. It was a test of agility and endurance.
Most students relied on speed and coordination. Bakugo propelled himself with small explosions, his movements jerky but fast. Iida's engines gave him a rhythmic, efficient pace. Tsuyu was surprisingly nimble, her frog-like legs propelling her across the lines with ease.
I approached the test with a different mindset. Instead of just moving quickly, I let the distortion field ripple beneath my feet, making the ground feel like a trampoline. I bounced from line to line, my movements fluid and unpredictable. I stretched my legs slightly with each step, extending my reach and reducing the number of strides I needed.
The timer beeped, and I stopped, my chest heaving slightly. Aizawa glanced at his tablet, then back at me.
"315 reps. Impressive."
I nodded, satisfied. I wasn't just keeping up with my classmates—I was surpassing them. The Nika form was evolving, and I was learning to use it in ways I'd never imagined.
---
The ball throw was next. A large, open field stretched out before us, a single white ball placed on a pedestal. Aizawa held up a device that would measure the distance of each throw.
"Use your quirks," he said. "Throw the ball as far as you can."
Uraraka went first. She touched the ball, and it floated into the air, weightless. She gave it a gentle push, and it soared into the sky, disappearing into the clouds.
"Infinity," Aizawa announced. "The ball is still in orbit."
The group erupted into murmurs of shock and awe. Uraraka blushed, waving her hands. "It's nothing, really! I just made it weightless!"
Bakugo stepped up next, his expression a mask of concentration. He grabbed the ball, wound up, and launched it with a massive explosion. The ball shot into the sky, a trail of smoke marking its path.
"705 meters," Aizawa announced.
Todoroki was next. He created a massive ice ramp beneath the ball, launching it into the sky at a steep angle. It soared through the air, a shimmering arc of ice following its path.
"625 meters," Aizawa said.
When my turn came, I stepped up to the pedestal, the ball heavy in my hand. I transformed fully, the Nika form pulsing with energy. The distortion field rippled around my arm, and I felt the power course through my veins.
I wound up, my arm stretching back further than any normal arm could. Then I threw.
The ball exploded out of my hand, propelled by the force of my stretch and the power of the distortion field. It shot through the air like a bullet, the wind whistling in its wake. The field around it seemed to warp, reducing drag and amplifying the throw.
The ball disappeared into the clouds, and I stood there, panting, a wide grin on my face.
Aizawa looked at his tablet, his eyebrow raised. "956 meters. New record."
The group erupted in a chorus of applause and exclamations. I heard Kirishima's deep, appreciative laugh, Kaminari's whistle, and Uraraka's cheerful shout of congratulations.
Momo stepped up beside me, her expression one of pure admiration, it seemed she was getting used to me more and more. "That was incredible, Suon. I genuinely believe you're the strongest in our class by far."
I shrugged, still grinning like a maniac. "I wouldn't say mastered. But I'm getting there. Every day, I learn something new."
She tilted her head, a thoughtful look crossing her face. "What could possibly be drives you? What makes you want to keep improving? I would've been satisfied with the form in general, but you just have some unwritten rule within you."
I paused, the question catching me off guard. In my first life, I'd been driven by desperation—the need to survive, to find warmth, to avoid the cold. In this life, my motivation was different but stemmed more from the regret of my previous life.
"I want to be free," I said, my voice soft but steady. "Free to protect the people I care about. Free to make my own choices. And I want to help others find that same freedom."
Momo nodded slowly, her eyes shining with understanding. "That's a beautiful goal, Suon. I hope you achieve it. It's something you care about deeply, that's cool.." Momo looked down, in a little sadness. It seems like she was struggling with her own ambitions.
I wanted to ask her about hers, but I felt it was a touchy subject for her. I looked at her and smiled before walking past her, letting her think about what to say as we continued with the test.
---
The distance run was the final test. A large track circled the training ground, and we were told to run as far as we could within a set time. It was a test of endurance, of willpower, of the ability to push through the pain and maximise your quirk.
Most students started strong, their quirks propelling them forward at incredible speeds. But as the minutes wore on, fatigue began to set in. Their strides slowed, their breathing grew ragged.
I maintained a steady pace, my Nika form providing me with a constant source of energy. The distortion field rippled beneath my feet, reducing the impact of each step. I stretched my legs with each stride, extending my reach and conserving energy.
By the time the timer beeped, I had completed 82 laps—more than anyone else in the class. Aizawa announced the results, and I felt a surge of pride.
I did it. I beat them all. Quite convincingly aswell.
---
The results were announced at the end of the test. Aizawa's tablet displayed a ranking of all the students, their scores tallied and compared.
I had taken first place.
Bakugo was second, his performance impressive but not enough to overtake me. Todoroki was third. Iida was fourth. And Midoriya… Midoriya was last.
I felt a pang of sympathy as I saw the fear in Midoriya's eyes. He was terrified of being expelled, of losing his chance to become a hero. I knew what that fear felt like. I'd lived it for most of my first life.
But Aizawa's announcement dispelled the tension.
"The expulsion was a logical ruse," he said, his voice flat. "It was designed to push you all to your limits. No one is being expelled."
A wave of relief washed through the group. Midoriya let out a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging. I saw Uraraka pat his back, her smile warm and reassuring.
As the group filed back toward the classroom, I felt a presence beside me. I turned to see Momo, her expression thoughtful.
"You did pretty well today, Rubber boy," she said. "Very well."
I shrugged, a modest smile on my face as I noticed her nickname of me saying "Rubber Boy". "I just did what I had to do."
She shook her head, laughing. "No, you did more than that. You pushed yourself to your limits and beyond. You showed everyone what you're capable of." She paused, her eyes meeting mine. "I'd like to train with you sometime. Your quirk is fascinating, and I think we could learn a lot from each other. I… want to able to grow aswell and not be left behind."
I blinked, surprised by the offer, but my fatigued body could only muster up a short response. "I'd like that, Momo. I'd really like that."
We walked together silently, our steps falling into sync. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the campus. The world felt alive yet again, full of happiness I yearned for.
This was just the beginning. I already had a set sight on future events. The challenges ahead would be greater—the USJ incident, the Sports Festival, the League of Villains. But I would face them head-on, with my classmates at my side and the power of Nika burning in my chest, it was all too well for me.
I'm ready, I thought. I'm ready for whatever comes next.