Chapter 8: Echoes of Resolve
Tuesday began the same as Monday.
Naruto's alarm cut through the dark at four a.m., its shrill tone bouncing across the quiet compound. He dragged himself out of bed, bones still aching faintly from the previous day's training, but there was no hesitation in his stride. A quick splash of water on his face, a rough tie of his red hair into a short tail, and he was already jogging toward the beach before the first hints of dawn bled into the sky.
The salty air hit him as he reached the shoreline. He slipped his mask over his face and got to work. Two hours just as Toshi had set. Piles of rusted metal, old tires, and driftwood heavier than most students could budge were pushed, dragged, and tossed aside by his calloused hands. His muscles burned with every lift, every throw, but that pain had already become familiar, almost comforting. It was the rhythm of progress, of moving forward.
By the time the sun fully rose, the sweat plastering his shirt was proof of another morning well spent. He trudged home, showered, and threw on his Aldera uniform. The fabric always felt a little too stiff, but he bore it. Bag packed, Izuku's notebook tucked carefully into its set off for school.
At Aldera, the whispers picked up right where they left off the moment he crossed the gates.
"There he is…"
"Wonder what he saw?"
"Red hair—you can't miss him. He was in the fire…"
Naruto ignored them. He had gotten good at ignoring whispers. It was not the mocking jeers Izuku used to bear, but the constant weight of eyes still gnawed at him. He kept his chin up, posture steady, forcing himself forward to class.
Bakugo was already in his seat when Naruto entered the homeroom. Their eyes met briefly. The usual sneer, the wild spark of arrogance that always danced in Katsuki's eyes, were both still absent. Instead, there was something unreadable, simmering, buried behind that sharp gaze. Naruto's jaw tightened. He refused to think about it. He walked past, sat down, and focused on his notebook as the teacher droned on.
The morning wore on much the same. His notes were messy, his handwriting cramped from scribbling furiously to keep pace. Book work had never been his strength. God, Izzy would've eaten this stuff up… he thought bitterly, shaking the thought from his head.
Lunch came as a small relief. Naruto headed for the roof again, dinner leftovers tucked neatly in a bento. He had barely taken a bite when the door creaked open and Kirishima appeared once again, all spiky red hair and toothy grin.
"Yo! Mind if I join you again?" He asked, without hesitation.
Naruto gave the faintest shrug which was permission enough.
Kirishima plopped down with his own lunch, immediately diving into another rambling string of stories. He spoke about his transfer, about "manliness" in fights, about how cool it was to have someone like Naruto around. Naruto responded occasionally, guarded, still weighing this boy who seemed so effortlessly open. But he didn't push him away either.
The rest of the day dragged forward in much the same way. Eyes on him, whispers trailing behind, Bakugo quiet in ways that set his nerves on edge. Physical Education was a breeze compared to the hell Toshi's training put him through, and he had to rein himself in to keep from outpacing the others too much.
When the final bell rang, Naruto exhaled in relief. Tuesday was done. Manageable. And tomorrow? Who knows maybe it would be better.
—
While Naruto's Tuesday trudged on at Aldera, Tsunade was making her way through the polished halls of U.A University.
Her heels clicked against the immaculate tile floors, the sound sharp and purposeful. She had already breezed past the security gates, irritation only barely masked when Nezu himself had insisted on meeting her at the entrance. The rat-headed principal now walked alongside her, small paws folded neatly behind his back, ever-smiling and chipper.
"It is always a pleasure to host one of the Senju name." Nezu said, voice polite but tinged with that calculating amusement he always carried. "Though I must admit, I didn't expect you to accept so soon."
"Don't get ahead of yourself." Tsunade replied dryly, eyes narrowing. "I said I'd think about it. And I have. I'm here to tell you my conditions, not to play fetch for you."
Nezu's whiskers twitched, but his grin never faltered. "Of course. I wouldn't dream of dictating to you. Please, enlighten me."
They stopped outside Recovery Girl's office, the faint smell of antiseptic wafting through the crack in the door. Tsunade leaned against the wall, arms folded, her tone sharp but steady.
"I'll take the position. But not as a babysitter, Nezu. I'm not here to coddle a bunch of brats who cry at a paper cut. I'll heal injuries, yes, but not trivial things like a scraped knee. I'll expect these kids to learn what real consequence feels like. A hero's life isn't soft. If they break, I'll mend them. If they collapse, I'll pick them up. But I won't shield them from the pain of this career. They need to know exactly what they're stepping into."
Her voice dropped lower, firm as iron. "And I'll do it my way. No red tape. No hand-holding."
For once, Nezu's smile dipped just a fraction, his sharp eyes appraising her like a hawk. Then he chuckled, shaking his small head. "Direct as ever, Senju-san. It's refreshing. Truly."
He turned, tail flicking idly as if he'd expected her to say exactly this. "We don't want a nursemaid. We want the best. And if that means U.A's students learn hard lessons under your care, so be it. You'll have the freedom you need."
Tsunade snorted. "Good. Then we understand each other."
The office door creaked open then, Recovery Girl poking her head out with a curious frown. "Nezu, are you loitering again? If this is about—" She froze when her gaze landed on Tsunade, her eyes widening in surprise. "Tsunade!? Back so soon?"
"Yo, Baa-chan." Tsunade greeted with a faint smirk, though her tone carried a warmth reserved for only a handful of people.
Before Recovery Girl could continue, Tsunade raised a hand. "We'll chat later. Right now, I need access to your best equipment. I need to run a medical exam on Toshinori. If I'm going to treat this right, I need to see him with my own eyes, run my own scans. No offense, Baa-chan, but trust only goes so far when someone's hanging on by stubbornness and luck."
Recovery Girl frowned but didn't argue, only nodded knowingly. "He'll be due for another scan soon anyway."
Nezu clasped his paws together, eyes gleaming. "Then it's settled. You'll have access to our private medical wing, the same one Toshinori uses for his yearly exam. Top-of-the-line equipment, fully sealed and confidential. I'll see to it personally that everything you need is prepared. It will be ready by tomorrow morning."
Tsunade inclined her head in acknowledgment, the sharp edge of her expression softening slightly. "Good. Then we'll do it my way."
Nezu's grin returned, sly and satisfied. "Exactly as it should be."
And with that Tsunade turned to leave the university to return home. Content that she got what she came for and Nezu accepted her conditions. Now she just needed to prepare herself for looking into the body of the symbol of peace.
—
The Next Day
The smell of grilled salmon and tamagoyaki drifted through the Uzumaki-Senju compound as Naruto stepped out of his room, hair still damp from his shower. He tugged on his Aldera blazer, straightening it halfheartedly while rolling the stiffness from his shoulders. His body already ached from the two-hour grind of clearing trash at the beach, but it was the kind of ache he welcomed. Proof he was getting stronger.
When he entered the dining area, he froze for a beat at the sight before him.
Tsunade sat at the low table, her long green haori draped neatly over a pressed blouse and fitted black slacks, her golden hair tied back with practiced care. Everything about her posture and appearance screamed professional doctor on official business. It was a sharp contrast to the loose, casual clothing she usually wore around the house.
Naruto smirked as he dropped into his seat. "Wow, Oba-chan, didn't know we had royalty living here. Should I start bowing when I pass you in the hall?"
Without missing a beat, Tsunade poured herself some tea. "Keep it up, brat, and I'll double your training compound and the beach."
Naruto snorted, digging into his rice bowl. "Guess that answers my question."
For a while, the only sound was the clink of chopsticks and the faint hum of the news in the other room. Yet even in that silence, there was something grounding. Both preparing for the day in their own ways. Naruto for the monotony of school, Tsunade for something heavier.
"You ready for today?" Naruto asked after a moment, tone casual but his eyes curious.
Tsunade finally looked up at him, golden eyes steady. "I've handled tougher. I'm going to be running a full medical exam on Toshinori, so it's nothing I haven't dealt with before."
Naruto gave a small grin. "Yeah, if anyone can figure out what's really going on with him, it's you."
They finished quickly, Naruto eager to beat the morning rush to school, Tsunade already thinking ahead to what awaited her at U.A. As Naruto grabbed his bag and made for the door, he paused, leaning down to press a quick kiss to the crown of her head.
"See ya, Oba-chan. Don't work too hard."
Tsunade froze for just a heartbeat before tilting her head up at him. He was taller now, broad-shouldered, standing strong in his uniform. But in that instant, she didn't see the young man he'd become. She saw the four-year-old boy with wild red hair, clutching her sleeve at his parents' funeral, begging her not to leave him alone.
"Go on, brat." She said softly, voice rougher than she meant. "And don't forget. You're still coming home for dinner in one piece."
Naruto flashed her a grin, masking the heaviness that lingered between them. "Wouldn't miss it."
When he was gone, Tsunade sat in silence for a long moment, staring at the space he'd left behind before finally exhaling and lifting her tea. Kushina, Minato… your boy's growing into something incredible. I'll make sure nothing gets in his way.
After Naruto disappeared down the hill toward Aldera, Tsunade lingered just long enough to tidy away their breakfast dishes. Her movements were calm, precise, but her mind was already racing ahead. She locked the compound doors with practiced ease, double-checked them, old habits die hard, and slung her satchel of medical notes and handwritten analyses over one shoulder.
Her vehicle, a sleek black sedan that looked out of place next to the more modern compact cars of the city, waited in the small driveway. Sliding into the driver's seat, Tsunade exhaled a slow breath and tapped her fingers on the steering wheel.
A medical scan is routine. You've done thousands. But this one… this one's different. No one else that damaged would even be walking. Hell, most would be in a hospital bed for life, or dead outright. Toshinori's body shouldn't even be able to function like it does. The fact that he's still walking, still fighting, is nothing short of a miracle… or sheer madness.
She turned the key, the engine rumbling to life. The commute was brisk but long enough to force her thoughts to settle. As she wove through the city streets, she replayed everything she'd memorized from Toshinori's file. Destroyed stomach. Ravaged lungs and intestines. Malnourishment. Each injury ticked off like stepping stones across a river. Except this river led to a chasm no doctor had ever successfully crossed.
By the time the towering gates of U.A. came into view, Tsunade was ready.
The reinforced barriers loomed, steel rising from the ground at the first sight of an unauthorized approach. A scanner's lens swiveled toward her windshield, a red light flickering across her ID. For a second, the system hesitated before the light turned green and the gate rolled open.
"Authorization confirmed." A disembodied voice chimed.
Tsunade allowed herself a smirk. "Damn right."
She slipped into the faculty parking area, easing the car between two unmarked spots. As she cut the engine, she caught herself muttering. "One step closer." She wasn't sure if she meant closer to helping Toshinori, or closer to being tangled in U.A.'s orbit more than she wanted.
The sound of sensible shoes on the pavement pulled her out of her thoughts. Chiyo, though few dared to call her that, was waiting at the edge of the lot, her cane tucked neatly under one arm. The elderly woman's eyes lit up with recognition as soon as Tsunade stepped out.
"Well, well. I half-expected you'd change your mind this morning." Recovery Girl teased warmly.
Tsunade snorted, straightening her haori as she strode over. "Don't flatter yourself, Bachan. I don't back out once I've set my mind on something."
"Mm, still as stubborn as ever." Recovery Girl muttered with fond exasperation, though her smile softened.
Beside her stood a tall, wiry man with long, unkempt black hair that framed his sharp features. He wore a black loose long sleeved shirt and matching pants that were tucked into particle combat boots. Along his waist he had a utility belt that no doubt had many tools in them. Around his neck he had a long grey scarf hung loosely around his shoulders that hid his goggles from view. His face has a tired, perpetual scowl. The dark circles under his eyes made him look like he hadn't slept in weeks, which, if the rumors Tsunade had heard about this man were true, might very well be the case.
"Tsunade-chan, this is Aizawa Shota." Chiyo said, gesturing toward him. "One of U.A's top instructors these days. He's practically Nezu's right hand."
Aizawa gave a long-suffering sigh, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Don't remind me. I'm still not sure how that happened. One day I was just teaching… Then suddenly I'm sitting in confidential meetings I never asked for."
His voice was dry, but Tsunade caught the faint current of steel beneath it. Someone who played disinterested, but kept his guard up more than most. She gave him a brief once-over, eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
"I've heard of you." She said simply. "Underground hero, Eraserhead. The one who makes trouble vanish before it spreads too far. Good reputation. If half of it's true, I can see why Nezu leans on you."
Aizawa blinked at her, then shrugged. "Reputation's overrated."
Recovery Girl chuckled at their brief exchange, before her tone sobered. "Aizawa knows about Toshinori's condition. At least… the surface details. The time limit, the damage he sustained." She gave Tsunade a significant glance, not listing One For All as knowledge known.
"Fair enough." Tsunade replied evenly. "Then we'll keep it that way."
"Good." Aizawa said, his sharp gaze flicking toward her. "I'm not in the mood for more secrets than necessary. Just tell me if he's going to drop dead in front of my students someday."
Tsunade raised a brow at his bluntness, but her lips quirked faintly. "I'll let you know."
"Come on." Recovery Girl said, waving her cane lightly. "The medical wing's ready for us. Nezu arranged full access for you, Tsunade. Everything you'll need is prepped."
"Private wing?" Tsunade asked.
"Yes of course." Recovery Girl confirmed. "It's outfitted with some of the best tech we've got."
"Good," Tsunade muttered, adjusting her satchel. "Then let's not waste time."
The three of them turned and began the walk toward U.A's pristine medical facility. The chatter of students in the distance, the sharp hum of training exercises echoing from the far field. It all seemed so normal, so calm. But Tsunade's mind was already shifting gears, locking into that razor focus that had carried her through countless surgeries and emergencies.
All right, Toshinori. Let's see what kind of miracle you really need. She thought to herself.
The trio moved down the long, spotless corridor of U.A, the sound of their footsteps echoing against polished floors. Recovery Girl shuffled along with her cane, her short legs carrying her with surprising speed. Tsunade walked beside her, tall and commanding, her satchel of notes bumping lightly against her hip. Aizawa trailed a step behind, his hands in his pockets, his capture scarf hanging loosely at his shoulders as his sharp, sleepless eyes scanned the hallway.
Their conversation, however, was all medicine.
"We'll need a full blood panel." Recovery Girl said, her tone brisk, almost clinical. "I need to confirm there hasn't been a sudden shift in his white count. It's been stable the last few months, but…"
"Mm," Tsunade hummed, already making her own additions in her head. "We'll also need complete imaging. X-rays and MRIs. Thoracic and abdominal focus first. The lung capacity is going to be a disaster to map out, but it'll tell us exactly how much functionality he has left. And the stomach," her voice lowered, thoughtful but sharp, "we'll see just how much scar tissue and graft work are still holding."
Chiyo gave a tiny sigh, as if resigned to confirmation of her own grim notes. "I've done these scans a dozen times, Tsunade-chan. Every time I hope to see improvement, and every time I'm disappointed."
Tsunade's eyes hardened. "That's because you've been patching him. I don't patch. I fix."
Behind them, Aizawa's brow ticked slightly upward. He'd been briefed in the vaguest possible terms. "All Might's got health problems, so watch his time in the field." That was it. No real details. The way these two women talked, however, it sounded catastrophic. Far worse than the impression he'd been given.
Destroyed stomach? Compromised lungs? And he's still fighting villains? No way it's as bad as they make it sound. He tried to convince himself of it, but there was something about the grim edge in both their voices that set his instincts on edge.
As the group rounded a corner, a new voice piped up behind them.
"Well, well, what a prestigious little entourage this is."
Nezu padded into step alongside them, his small stature and pristine suit making him look more like a dignitary than the dean of a university. His round, intelligent eyes twinkled with amusement as he regarded Tsunade in particular.
"Senju-san, I trust your morning commute was pleasant? I do hope traffic didn't frustrate you. Though from the look on your face, perhaps my presence will do the job just fine."
Tsunade shot him a look sharp enough to cut steel. "Don't flatter yourself, rodent. I'm not here to indulge your games."
Nezu's whiskers twitched, but he only clasped his paws behind his back and continued cheerfully. "Oh, but everything at U.A is a game, my dear. That's how we test the mettle of our players. Whether they're students… teachers, or healers stepping back into the ring after a long hiatus."
Recovery Girl rolled her eyes and muttered, "Ignore him. He thrives on hearing himself talk."
"Ah, but don't we all, Chiyo?" Nezu chuckled, though his eyes gleamed as they slid toward Tsunade. "Though in your case, Senju-san, I do believe the results of today's tests will say far more than any words could."
Tsunade gave a noncommittal grunt, though inside she felt her temper stir. He wasn't wrong. What the scans showed would set the tone for everything that came next. And she didn't like that he already seemed three steps ahead, as if he were waiting to see what pieces she'd put on the board.
The group finally reached the reinforced double doors at the end of the corridor. They parted with a soft hydraulic hiss, revealing the private medical wing beyond.
The space looked less like an infirmary and more like a specialized hospital ward married to cutting-edge military tech. Sleek white walls gleamed under sterile lights. Rows of machines lined the walls: MRI and CT scanners larger and more advanced than Tsunade had seen in any standard hospital, each with U.A.'s insignia stamped along the side. A surgical suite sat enclosed behind glass, equipped with state-of-the-art robotic arms designed to assist in precision procedures. Monitors flickered with graphs, real-time diagnostic programs, and biometric readouts.
Tsunade's sharp eyes swept over everything, cataloging equipment, noting their brands, their functions. A small hum left her throat, half in approval, half in calculation. "Not bad. This is better than most civilian hospitals I've walked into. No corners cut. Someone made sure the Symbol of Peace had the best care available."
"Of course." Nezu said smoothly, padding past her and gesturing with one paw. "We spare no expense here. Heroes can't afford weakness, after all. And Toshinori, in particular, has never been allowed that luxury."
Aizawa's frown deepened as he followed, his scarf brushing against the floor. He didn't like the implication in Nezu's words. Too many layers, too much meaning hidden between lines. But he said nothing, instead letting his gaze sweep the corners of the room, ensuring it was secure.
Recovery Girl moved toward the central examination area, gesturing toward a monitor already set up with Toshinori's past files. "Everything's ready. All that's left is for our patient to arrive."
Tsunade dropped her satchel onto a nearby counter, rolling back her sleeves. Her honey brown eyes gleamed as she glanced over the equipment one more time.
"Good." She said, voice low and firm. "Then let's get to work."
Tsunade pulled on a pair of sterile gloves with a sharp snap, the sound echoing faintly off the polished walls. Chiyo busied herself with setting up the diagnostics, her short frame surprisingly efficient as she moved between consoles, adjusting dials and double-checking calibrations.
"X-ray suite first, then MRI. Blood draw while we cycle imaging." Chiyo murmured, almost to herself.
"Good start." Tsunade replied, her eyes already scanning the digital readouts coming online. "And I'll want a full cardiopulmonary stress test once we're through. If his lungs are as bad as you said, I need hard data, not just observation."
Aizawa had taken up position near the far wall, his scarf draped loosely, one hand shoved in his pocket. From the outside, he looked as uninterested as ever, but his dark eyes never stopped tracking. Students wandered these halls sometimes. So did staff who had no business here. It was unlikely anyone would stumble into the private wing, but Eraserhead wasn't the type to gamble.
A soft patter of paws pulled him from his thoughts. Nezu had padded over, his small frame immaculate in its dark suit, his hands clasped behind his back. He stopped beside Aizawa and looked up at him with the kind of smile that always meant trouble.
"My, my, you look positively broody today." Nezu said brightly. "One might think you were about to face the gallows."
Aizawa didn't bother hiding the sigh that slipped out. "Or maybe I'm standing in a room full of people who enjoy talking in riddles about things you won't let me in on."
Nezu's whiskers twitched, his tone deceptively light. "Oh, but where's the fun in giving you all the answers? You're far too sharp to be spoon-fed. Consider it an exercise in… professional curiosity."
Aizawa's gaze sharpened just a fraction. "Or you just like tormenting your staff."
Nezu chuckled, clearly delighted. "Perhaps. Keeps you awake, doesn't it?"
Tsunade rolled her eyes from across the room. "Do you ever quit?"
"Not if I can help it." Nezu answered cheerfully, which earned him another muttered groan from Aizawa.
The conversation was cut short by the hiss of the wing's main doors sliding open.
Toshinori stepped through, tall even in his gaunt form, his posture composed despite the way his loose shirt hung over a body too lean, too scarred. He walked with the easy familiarity of someone who had memorized this path long ago, his long legs carrying him straight into the exam suite without hesitation.
"Good morning." He greeted, voice roughened but warm. His eyes immediately found Nezu, who gave him a polite nod.
Then his gaze shifted to Aizawa. Toshinori stopped, inclining his head in genuine respect. "You must be Eraserhead. I've heard a great deal about your work. An underground hero who tackles the jobs others avoid. Japan owes you more than most realize."
Aizawa blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity, before muttering, "...I just do what needs to be done."
Toshinori smiled faintly, the corners of his eyes creasing. "That's exactly what makes it admirable."
From there he moved on, his expression warming further as he spotted Recovery Girl. "Chiyo." He greeted fondly. "You're looking well. Still working yourself to the bone, I see."
She sniffed, thwacking her cane lightly against the floor. "Says the man who refuses to rest despite half his insides being held together with sheer stubbornness."
Toshinori chuckled, unoffended. "Guilty as charged."
Finally, his eyes landed on Tsunade, and he inclined his head politely. "Tsunade-san. Thank you for doing this. I know you insisted, but still… it's no small thing, asking another set of eyes to go over me."
Tsunade folded her arms, studying him critically, her eyes sharp as scalpels. "Don't thank me yet. Let's see what kind of mess you've been walking around with first."
Toshinori gave a sheepish laugh, scratching the back of his neck. "Fair enough. But," his voice softened, his tone oddly resigned, "don't expect miracles. I've been through these scans more times than I can count. The results never change."
He moved toward the central examination platform, his movements practiced, almost ritualistic, like a man going through steps he'd rehearsed for years.
Tsunade's jaw tightened at his words, but she didn't reply immediately. Instead, she reached for the first set of instruments, her voice calm, clinical.
"Well then." She said. "Let's make absolutely certain of that."
—
Meanwhile Across The City
The scratching of pens filled the classroom, broken only by the teacher's steady droning at the front. Naruto hunched over his notebook, his long frame bent close to the desk as he scribbled furiously, filling line after line with half-legible notes. His handwriting was rushed, a mess compared to Izuku's meticulous script, but he didn't let himself stop. If he lost focus for even a second, he knew he'd fall behind.
Keep up, keep up… come on, damn it.
The whispers hadn't completely stopped. They floated like gnats at the edge of his hearing, mostly harmless but irritating nonetheless.
"Isn't that Uzumaki? He hasn't been here for weeks…"
"Look at his shoulders—dude's gotten huge."
"Yeah, but it's not bulky, it's… like, lean muscle. Sharp. Rugged."
"…and hotter than before, right?" A giggle followed that particular whisper.
Naruto pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath. "Great. That's exactly what I need, a fan club."
He didn't look up, didn't indulge them with so much as a glance. His pen scratched harder against the paper, his jaw tightening as he forced himself to focus. He wasn't here to entertain whispers or bask in attention. He was here because Izuku couldn't be.
Still, the words stuck in his ears. Not the giggles, not the gushing. It was that single line, he's gotten huge. It was true. His body had changed in just the past couple weeks. The grueling mornings on the beach, the punishing circuits through the city with Toshinori, the endless swimming. His frame had tightened, hardened. Even his reflection had startled him a few times, seeing the shadow of a man who looked more like a professional athlete than an eighteen-year-old high schooler.
He rolled his shoulders, the fabric of his uniform stretching faintly, and bent back over his notes.
Doesn't matter what they say. Just keep your head down. Keep going. Pay attention. Izzy would've been top of the class. Gotta try to keep up with him, even if it kills me.
Naruto's eyes flicked once, briefly, toward the empty desk where Izuku used to sit. The hollow absence that echoed louder than any whisper. He swallowed, set his jaw, and forced his pen to keep moving across the page.
The bell rang eventually, sharp and shrill. Students began to stir, gathering bags and chatting as they filed toward lunch. Naruto sat back, exhaled slowly, and muttered, "Another morning down…"
His stomach growled faintly. He stood, slinging his bag over his shoulder, and made for the roof.
Naruto's footsteps echoed in the hallway as he made his way toward the stairwell leading up to the roof. His bag was slung lazily over his shoulder, his mind already on the quiet meal waiting for him above.
But as he rounded the corner by the lockers, his ears caught the sound of muffled whispers. He slowed instinctively, eyes narrowing.
"…sick of hearing them gush over him, man."
"Yeah, Uzumaki this, Uzumaki that—'he's so tall, so handsome.' Makes me wanna puke."
"He was Deku's friend, right? That loser. Guess that tells you everything."
"…can't take him on directly, though. He's built like a tank now."
"Doesn't matter. We'll hit him where it hurts."
Naruto's gaze lifted and his breath caught.
Five boys, all clustered together, huddled in front of Izuku's locker. The metal was still untouched, still frozen in time as if waiting for its owner to return. But now one of them dragged a marker across the pale surface, scrawling in jagged strokes:
WORTHLESS.
GOOD RIDDANCE.
DEKU = NOTHING.
Another boy taped a crude drawing of red spider lilies across the door, their meaning unmistakable. A flower of death. A farewell.
Naruto's pulse thundered in his ears. His vision tunneled, breath coming sharper, harsher, with every second. They were desecrating it. Desecrating him.
The sound of their snickering scraped across his nerves like nails on steel. His body moved before his mind could catch up.
He stormed forward, a blur of red hair and fury, and seized the nearest boy by the back of his head. With a guttural growl, he slammed the kid's face against the metal locker with a resounding clang that echoed through the hall.
The laughter stopped instantly.
The other four froze, wide-eyed, as Naruto's burning blue gaze swept over them, fury radiating off him in waves. The boy he held whimpered, a streak of fresh blood running down the locker where his nose had struck.
The silence that followed was heavier than any scream.
The boy in Naruto's grip groaned, clutching at the locker with trembling hands, but the other four finally snapped out of their shock. One of them swore under his breath, his fear giving way to bravado as he squared his shoulders.
"Don't just stand there! He thinks he can take us?!"
That was all it took. The pack surged forward at once, fists raised, fueled by the false courage of numbers.
Naruto released his hold on the boy's head, letting him slump to the floor with a bloody nose, and turned to meet the rush. His expression was cold, hard, a far cry from the laid-back teen most of them had expected.
The first came in with a wild haymaker aimed at Naruto's jaw. Naruto's body moved like water, slipping to the side. His hand shot out, catching the boy's wrist mid-swing, and with a sharp pivot of his hips he twisted, sending the attacker flipping over his shoulder and crashing to the ground with a heavy thud.
The second tried to tackle him from behind. Naruto felt the shift in the air and stepped forward into the momentum, planting his foot and snapping a brutal back-kick straight into the boy's gut. The impact drove the air from his lungs with a wheeze, sending him sprawling backward into a row of lockers.
The third swung low with a kick, aiming to sweep Naruto's legs. Naruto bent with the motion, his palm dropping to the ground for balance, then drove his other foot upward in a snapping arc that cracked against the boy's chin. The attacker stumbled back, teeth clattering audibly as his head snapped up.
The fourth hesitated, eyes flicking between his groaning friends and Naruto's unshaken stance. But pride or stupidity won out. With a snarl, he lunged, both fists hammering forward.
Naruto caught the first blow on his forearm, twisted under the second, and drove his elbow hard into the boy's sternum. The impact dropped him to his knees, gasping for breath.
The hallway echoed with the sound of groans, the scrape of shoes on linoleum, the heavy breathing of boys who thought they'd outnumbered their prey.
Naruto straightened slowly, rolling his shoulders. His eyes swept over them, blue and blazing, his chest rising and falling with calm, controlled breaths. His stance was loose but coiled, like a predator waiting to pounce again.
"You fucked up." he said quietly, his voice cutting sharper than a shout.
The four boys flinched as if the words themselves carried weight. One clutched his ribs, another his stomach. Fear was setting in now, mingling with the sting of their injuries.
But the fight wasn't over.
The four boys staggered back to their feet, nursing bruises and clutching ribs, but pride refused to let them retreat. One spat blood onto the floor, glaring daggers at Naruto.
"You think you're some kind of badass, Uzumaki?!" He snarled.
Naruto didn't respond. His silence was louder than words. He simply shifted his stance low, balanced, calm. His eyes were flat, cold flames of blue.
They rushed him again.
The first jabbed for his face, but Naruto stepped inside the strike, driving his knuckles into the boy's bicep with a sharp crack. The limb went numb instantly, the attacker yelping as his own punch fell limp. Naruto spun and swept his leg out, scything his opponent's legs from under him, dropping him hard to the floor.
The second lunged, trying to grapple him. Naruto pivoted, caught him by the collar and belt, and slammed him into the lockers with a sharp metallic clang. The boy slid down, coughing.
The third and fourth tried a pincer attack, charging from both sides. Naruto flowed between them ducking low, one hand braced on the ground, and lashing out with a brutal kick that smashed into one's knee with a sickening pop. The boy crumpled with a howl. Spinning, Naruto caught the last one's collar and cracked his forehead forward in a controlled headbutt, enough to daze without breaking bone. The boy dropped, eyes glassy.
The hall fell quiet save for the groans of the defeated.
Then—movement.
The fifth, the one Naruto had first slammed into the locker, staggered upright, blood still dripping from his nose. He wiped it with his sleeve, snarling through clenched teeth. Seeing Naruto's back turned, he clenched his fist, raising it high, and stumbled forward with the clear intent of a cheap shot.
Naruto caught the shift of air behind him, but before he could turn, another figure surged from the stairwell.
A fist slammed into the side of the boy's jaw, spinning him mid-step before his body collapsed like a sack of bricks. He landed face-down with a dull thud, out cold.
"Cheap shots," a new voice rang out, "are unmanly."
Naruto blinked, lowering his stance just slightly as he turned.
Kirishima stood in the hallway, his spiked red hair wild, his fists still clenched. His teeth flashed in a grin sharp as steel, eyes burning with energy.
He nodded at Naruto. "Mind if I cut in?"
Naruto exhaled slowly through his nose, the cold fire in his eyes flicking toward the three still on their knees, clutching injuries. "Do what you want. Just don't get in my way."
Kirishima's grin widened. "Fair enough."
Together, they turned toward the beaten but not-yet-broken boys. The fight wasn't over but the tone had shifted.
The three boys who could still stand, or at least stagger, exchanged uneasy glances. Their bravado was gone, stripped away by bruises, swelling joints, and bloodied lips. But pride was a stubborn parasite, and none of them were willing to crawl away while Uzumaki's icy gaze burned holes in their skin.
"Still think you've got this?" Naruto asked flatly, his voice like steel scraping stone.
One of them roared in defiance, charging with a wild swing.
Kirishima stepped forward, his fist raised in a basic but solid boxing stance. The boy's knuckles cracked harmlessly against his raised defense. Kirishima's counter came instantly with a straight punch, fist slamming into the attacker's chest and sending him sprawling down the hall.
"Not very manly." Kirishima muttered.
The second, shaking and clutching his shoulder, tried to lunge at Naruto in desperation. Naruto pivoted sideways, seizing his arm mid-swing. With a precise twist and a hooked step, he locked the boy's elbow across his own shoulder and wrenched. A sharp pop echoed through the hallway, followed by a scream as the kid collapsed, clutching his dislocated arm.
Naruto's expression didn't change. His blue eyes burned cold as ice. "Next."
The last boy trembled but screamed to hype himself up, rushing both of them at once.
Kirishima and Naruto moved in unison two different worlds of combat styles, two different spirits, colliding with the same goal.
Kirishima led with his forearm, blocking the boy's desperate haymaker, while Naruto slid low, sweeping the attacker's legs clean from under him. The boy flipped headlong into the air before crashing down hard, breath exploding from his lungs.
Naruto straightened, looking down at the pile of groaning bodies littering the floor. Now the fight was over.
Silence stretched heavy in the corridor, broken only by labored breathing and muffled whimpers. The once-arrogant pack of five now lay beaten and broken, scattered across the linoleum.
Naruto exhaled slowly, unclenching his fists. He wasn't even winded. His cold gaze softened slightly as he turned to Kirishima.
The redhead grinned, shaking out his knuckles. "Not bad, man. You're sharp. Real sharp."
Naruto gave him a long look, then a short nod. "You held your own."
Kirishima's grin widened. "Heh. I'll take that. Guess I was right about you."
Naruto raised an eyebrow. "Right about what?"
"That you're manly as hell."
Naruto blinked, deadpan. Then, despite himself, a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "You're weird, you know that?"
"Yeah." Kirishima said cheerfully, wiping beneath his nose. "But it works for me."
The two stood among the wreckage of the fight, surrounded by unconscious or broken opponents, and in that moment, a strange camaraderie sparked between them. Before Naruto refocused onto the desecrated locker.
Naruto stepped over the fallen boys without a glance, his jaw tight, his chest rising and falling in slow, controlled breaths.
His hand lifted, tracing over the ugly scrawl gouged across the pale metal worthless. Good riddance. Deku. Red spider lilies scribbled like a mockery of mourning. Naruto dragged his thumb across one of the words, trying to smear it away, but the marker only bled into a darker stain.
"Damn it…" He muttered, low, his voice raw.
Footsteps approached behind him.
Kirishima stopped a few feet away, glancing from the unconscious boys to the tall redhead at the lockers. His brows knit together. "You, uh… trying to clean that off?"
Naruto didn't turn. "Yeah. They thought it'd be funny." His jaw clenched, knuckles brushing against the locker's surface. "…It's not."
Kirishima stepped closer, looking over the vandalized words. He didn't understand the weight behind them, but the tightness in Naruto's shoulders spoke volumes. He rubbed at the back of his neck. "You'll need more than a sleeve to get that out. Maybe some polish, real cleaning stuff."
Naruto let out a slow, frustrated breath. "Yeah. Guess so."
Kirishima crossed his arms, tone shifting. "Then I'll help."
That made Naruto finally glance over, one blue eye narrowing. "…Why?"
Kirishima shrugged, but his words were firm. "'Cause it's unmanly leaving something like this up. I don't know what it means to you, but it's clear it does mean something. So—let me help you fix it."
For a long moment, Naruto studied him. He wasn't used to people offering anything when it came to this. The guy's expression wasn't mocking or prying. Just honest.
Finally, Naruto gave a curt nod. "…Thanks."
The moment was short-lived though.
Bootsteps thundered down the hall, voices sharp and urgent.
"What's going on here?!"
Several Aldera teachers burst into view, eyes widening at the scene. Unconscious bodies sprawled across the floor, lockers dented, black markers smeared across one door, and standing in the middle of it all. Naruto fists still faintly curled. Beside him stood Kirishima, looking no worse for wear and steady.
The teachers froze for a breath, then their voices overlapped.
"Who started this fight?!"
"Uzumaki, what the hell happened?!"
"Explain yourselves now!"
Naruto's eyes flicked toward the staff, his jaw set. The weight of their stares pressed down on him, but his silence was cold and unyielding.
The teachers decided not to waste anymore time.
"Tanaka, Yamazaki. Get these boys to the infirmary."
"Yes, sir!"
Two staff members bent to gather up the groaning delinquents, dragging them off in twos and threes toward the nurse's office. Another, a stern-faced man with close-cropped hair and a sharp suit jacket, jabbed a finger toward Naruto and Kirishima.
"You two. With me. Principal Sakamoto will want to hear about this."
Naruto said nothing, his expression unreadable. Kirishima swallowed hard, his spiky hair bobbing as he straightened his back and fell into step.
The hallway was chaos by the time they were marched through. Word spread fast in Aldera, and the cafeteria must have emptied halfway in the time it took to get them moving.
Students lined the corridor, whispering, and craning their necks to see.
"That's Uzumaki, isn't it?
"Five guys, I heard—they're all down."
"Guess he really did fight that sludge villain…"
Naruto ignored it all, eyes fixed forward, his jaw set like carved stone.
As they passed one classroom, a familiar set of crimson eyes peered through the open doorway. Bakugo leaned against the frame, hands shoved in his pockets. He didn't smirk, didn't jeer. He just watched, again something unreadable flickering across his sharp features before he turned away with a low grunt.
The noise didn't stop until the teacher herded the two boys to the far end of the hall, toward a wide oak door with Principal's Office etched neatly across a brass plate.
The teacher turned, fixing both of them with a sharp glare. "Sit. Don't move. Don't talk. I'll explain what we found to Principal Sakamoto."
Naruto dropped heavily into one of the chairs, elbows resting on his knees, gaze down at the tiled floor. His expression was unreadable but his fists were still faintly clenched.
Kirishima shifted beside him, glancing at the taller boy. He wanted to say something anything, but the weight in the air made his throat tighten.
The teacher rapped on the office door once before disappearing inside, leaving the two boys alone in the echoing silence of the hallway.
The hallway was quiet now, most of the curious students chased off by other staff members. Only the hum of fluorescent lights and the distant shuffle of footsteps echoed around the two boys.
Kirishima shifted in his chair, tapping his fingers nervously against his knee. Finally, he leaned sideways, grinning awkwardly. "Sooo… not exactly the kind of first week I expected."
Naruto said nothing, eyes locked on the floor. His stillness was heavy, almost suffocating.
Kirishima's grin faltered. "…Yeah. Guess you're not in the mood for chit-chat. Sorry, man." He leaned back, rubbing the back of his neck, already resigning himself to silence.
That's when Naruto spoke, his voice low. "…Why'd you jump in?"
Kirishima blinked, caught off guard. "Huh?"
Naruto finally turned his head, blue eyes sharp. "That fight. You didn't know what it was about. You don't really know me. For all you know, I could've been the one causing trouble."
For a moment, Kirishima just stared. Then he snorted, a quick, sharp laugh. "Nah. You don't give that vibe."
Naruto's brows drew together. "What vibe?"
"The kind that starts crap just to start it. You looked pissed, like, seriously pissed, but it wasn't the kinda pissed that picks on the weak. It was the kinda pissed that protects something." Kirishima shrugged. "And five-on-one? That's just unmanly, no matter the reason. I wasn't gonna stand by and watch that."
Naruto studied him for a long moment, trying to decide if the spiky-haired boy was being genuine or just blowing smoke. The grin on Kirishima's face was crooked, but his eyes, earnest and steady, didn't waver.
Finally, Naruto gave a small huff of breath, almost a laugh. "…You're weird." He reiterated his earlier statement.
Kirishima's grin widened instantly. "Weird's not so bad. Better than being boring."
A silence stretched between them, but it wasn't uncomfortable this time. The tension in the air had eased, just a little.
Kirishima leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "So… lunch on the roof again tomorrow?"
Naruto smirked faintly, shaking his head but not saying no.
Before Kirishima could push further, the office door creaked open. The stern-faced teacher stepped out, eyes flicking between the two. "The principal will see you now. Both of you. Inside."
Naruto rose smoothly, shoulders squared. Kirishima stood with him, shooting him a quick, confident grin before they followed the teacher in.
The principal's office was spacious but orderly, lined with shelves of books, neat filing cabinets, and a single potted plant by the wide window. Behind the polished oak desk sat a woman who looked far too young to command a school, but the sharpness in her gaze said otherwise.
Principal Sakamoto was in her early thirties, her black hair tied back in a professional bun, thin silver-rimmed glasses perched on her nose. She wore a crisp suit jacket and blouse, though her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows in a way that suggested she didn't shy away from work. Her posture was upright, her presence commanding without needing to raise her voice.
She was strict, that much was obvious, but her eyes held no cruelty.
The teacher who had escorted them cleared his throat, stepping forward. "Principal Sakamoto, I already have the details."
"Enough." Her voice cut through the air like a blade. She didn't raise it, but the weight behind it silenced him instantly. Her eyes flicked from him to the two boys. "I'll hear it from them. Not from secondhand whispers. Sit."
Naruto and Kirishima exchanged a glance before lowering themselves into the two chairs set before her desk.
Sakamoto folded her hands neatly. "Uzumaki-san. Kirishima-san. Explain what happened. From the beginning. And be honest. I will know if you're not."
Naruto's blue eyes met hers. For a long moment he considered just shutting down and staying silent. But there was something in her tone firm, unyielding, but not unfair that made him relent.
He exhaled slowly, then began. "I was on my way to lunch. When I got near the lockers, I saw five students defacing one of them. Midoriya Izuku's old locker." His fists curled slightly on his knees. "They wrote things like 'worthless'… 'good riddance.' Mocking him. Red spider lilies, even." His voice hardened, rough with restrained anger. "They thought it was funny. They thought it was clever. I didn't."
His eyes dropped to the floor briefly before snapping back to hers. "I confronted them. One thing led to another. They made it a fight. I finished it."
The teacher frowned, about to protest, but Sakamoto raised a hand, silencing him again.
"And you Kirishima-san?" Her gaze shifted to the spiky-haired boy.
Kirishima rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Uh yeah. So, I'd just came from the stairs when I saw what was happening. Five against one didn't sit right with me. It wasn't… well, it wasn't manly." He winced at how it sounded, but pressed on. "So I jumped in. Honestly, Uzumaki already had things under control, but I wasn't about to stand by and watch. I took out one of them who tried to get a cheap shot in."
Sakamoto's eyes lingered on him for a moment, gauging, then returned to Naruto. "And you, Uzumaki-san you did not start the fight?"
Naruto shook his head. "No. I reacted. I won't deny I hit first when I saw what they wrote. I don't regret it either. But I didn't throw the first punch without reason."
The silence that followed was heavy, the only sound the faint hum of the wall clock. The teacher shifted uncomfortably, but Sakamoto remained steady, her gaze sharp as a hawk's.
Finally, she leaned back slightly in her chair, folding her arms. "I see."
Her tone was calm, even, but her eyes softened just a fraction as she regarded Naruto. "You're right, Uzumaki-san. You've never been one to cause trouble for the sake of it. If you say you had just cause, I believe you. That said…" She let her words hang, measured and deliberate. "Violence in these halls cannot be overlooked. No matter the reason."
Naruto didn't flinch. "I'll take whatever punishment you decide."
Kirishima's eyes widened at how flatly, almost coldly, he said it.
Sakamoto tapped a finger against her desk thoughtfully. "We'll get to that. First, I want to speak with the other five once they wake. Their word against yours may be different, but I've heard your side. And I value truth, not rumors."
The teacher looked as though he wanted to protest again, but one sharp look from her shut him up entirely.
Naruto exhaled slowly, leaning back in his chair, and for the first time since walking into the room, he felt like maybe just maybe he wouldn't be railroaded.
The office filled and emptied several times as the five other boys were brought in one by one. They each told their stories. A couple of them tried to paint Naruto as the aggressor, others fumbled half-truths. Every time they lied, Principal Sakamoto's eyes sharpened, the faintest glint flashing across her irises.
Naruto noticed it, though he didn't comment. Whatever it was, he could tell it cut through the noise like a scalpel.
By the time the last boy had spoken, Sakamoto leaned back in her chair and steepled her fingers. The silence stretched until even Kirishima shifted in his seat.
Finally, she spoke, her tone clipped but calm. "I've heard enough. All five attempted to deface a student's locker, one belonging to someone who can no longer defend himself. That, in itself, is shameful. You escalated it further by provoking a fight. Your punishment will be a week's suspension followed by a month's detention. You'll spend it cleaning classrooms after hours. Every last one of you."
The boys groaned, faces paling, but a sharp glare silenced them.
Then her gaze slid to Naruto and Kirishima. "As for you two you're not blameless either. Uzumaki-san, you struck first. Even provoked, violence was your immediate choice. And Kirishima-san, you inserted yourself into the conflict instead of calling for a teacher."
Kirishima winced. "Yeah… that's fair."
"You'll both serve detention as well," Sakamoto finished. "A week of cleaning duty. Consider it a lesson in restraint."
Naruto inclined his head stiffly. "Understood."
"Fine by me." Kirishima added, trying to keep things light.
Sakamoto gave a short nod. "Good. Then we're done here. You five return to home for the evening. I will speak to your parents. Kirishima-san dismissed. Detention begins this afternoon."
The group shuffled out reluctantly, guided by the teacher, muttering complaints under their breath. Kirishima shot Naruto a small grin, as if to say hey, at least we're in this together, before disappearing through the doorway.
Naruto rose to follow, but Sakamoto's voice stopped him.
"Uzumaki-san. Stay please."
He froze, turning back toward her.
Sakamoto's gaze held his, steady and piercing. "There's something we need to discuss further."
The door shut quietly behind him, leaving only the two of them in the office.
The office was quieter now, the hum of the clock the only sound filling the space. Naruto stood before the desk, hands shoved into his pockets, jaw tight as if bracing for another lecture.
Principal Sakamoto regarded him with that same calm, sharp-eyed expression as before, but this time her voice carried a different weight. Softer, but no less steady.
"Uzumaki-san," she began, folding her hands on the desk, "I know how close you were with Midoriya-san. I can only imagine how hard his passing has been for you. I also know how cruel students in this school can be, whether it's whispers, stares, or worse." Her lips pressed together, the faintest flicker of regret flashing across her face. "I wish I could have done more to make it easier for him. But as you've likely learned, there's only so much one person can do."
Naruto's jaw clenched, but he stayed silent, his eyes fixed on the floor.
Sakamoto leaned forward slightly, her tone firm but warm. "That being said, I want you to know something clearly. If you need anything, I am here. It is my job as an educator to support my students in whatever way I can. And you, Uzumaki Naruto have great potential. I want to see that potential realized. But to get there, you must be smarter than this. No more fights. No matter how justifiable."
Naruto finally looked up, blue eyes meeting hers. For once, he saw no judgment, no disappointment just honesty. He gave a small nod. "…I'll try."
"Good." Her lips softened into the faintest hint of a smile. "That's all I ask."
She leaned back again, her professional demeanor returning. "Now, as for the detention. You should know it is standard procedure for me to inform the parents or guardians of any student involved."
Naruto groaned audibly, dragging a hand down his face. "Oba-san is gonna kill me…"
Sakamoto allowed herself the faintest chuckle at that, before returning to her usual composure. "I imagine she'll have words. But she'll also see you're being held accountable, as you should be."
Naruto gave a resigned grunt, then turned toward the door. Just before he reached for the handle, he paused and looked back over his shoulder. "Principal Sakamoto… how did you know they were lying? Or that I wasn't?"
Sakamoto's glasses caught the light as her eyes sharpened again. "My Quirk," she answered simply. "It allows me to detect falsehoods. Not just words, but the tension in a person's voice, the way their heartbeat changes when they're untruthful. It's not infallible, but it's enough. And today, it told me everything I needed."
Naruto blinked at that, taking a moment to let it sink in before he nodded once. "…Thanks. For trusting me."
"Don't thank me," Sakamoto said. "Just prove me right."
With that, Naruto stepped out of the office, the weight on his shoulders just a little lighter than before.