Chapter nine : The Chorus of "Extras" and the Lonely Wolf
The dust, stirred by the recent explosion, danced in the slanting afternoon light, creating a hazy, irritated atmosphere.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE THEY ALL DOING?"
(Katsuki Bakugo) watched, his crimson eyes narrowed to slits, as the blue-haired boy stood beside the pink-skinned girl, the two of them talking while the attention of everyone present was fixated on them.
A low, continuous crackle-sizzle emanated from his open palms, the sound of nitroglycerin sweat vaporizing in tiny, angry pops.
He didn't know what they were thinking at this moment.
Shouldn't everyone be looking at him after he'd demolished so many robots?
His internal scoreboard was flashing a brilliant, undeniable number one, but the audience seemed to be applauding the wrong performer.
Anyway, he didn't care much for the adoration of extras.
But he needed to know the reason for this gross misalignment of attention.
He demanded it.
Without hesitation, he planted his feet—thud!—and strode forward, pushing past a group of gawking students with a dismissive shoulder-check that sent a boy with tape-dispensing elbows stumbling with a yelp.
"Move it, extras."
His approach was less a walk and more a territorial claim, each step a declaration of impending dominance.
He reached the blue-haired boy, the epicenter of this unwanted gravity.
(Suzuki) was still there, looking mildly perplexed by the pink hurricane beside him, his utilitarian gear looking utterly mundane next to (Bakugo)'s aggressive, custom-designed costume.
(Bakugo) stopped, invading their personal space with the subtlety of a meteor impact.
"YOU, THE EXTRA! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"
His voice was a question in structure only.
In tone, it was an accusation, a demand for an immediate and satisfactory explanation that would justify this theft of his spotlight.
For everyone else, his arrival and roaring question were like a bucket of ice water thrown over the stunned silence left by (Suzuki)'s earlier revelation.
Gasp! "It's the explosion guy..." someone whispered.
Shuffle-shuffle. The circle of onlookers instinctively widened, creating a buffer zone around the volatile blonde.
His presence made them all remember the series of thunderous KABOOMs they'd heard throughout the test, the arrogant blitzkrieg that had carved a path of destruction.
But for (Suzuki), he looked at the boy with the red eyes and spiky blond hair and thought to himself, his internal monologue dry and analytical:
"Isn't this (Katsuki Bakugo)? Why has he come here now? Was there a reason? Has he focused on me to this degree, to approach and ask? I understand the meaning of the question he's asking, of course. But it's better to pretend I don't know what he means."
He arrived at this conclusion quickly, a survival algorithm processing the hostile input.
(Suzuki) acted quickly.
He turned his head, the motion calm and mechanical, and looked directly at (Katsuki Bakugo).
"I don't understand what you mean," he said, his voice flat and devoid of inflection.
He didn't intend to be rude.
But in the end, there was no relationship with the person in front of him.
Acting with excessive politeness would immediately make him a target for bullying—a sign of weakness to be exploited.
And of course, the primary reason he was sure of this was that he had seen what this boy had done to his childhood friend, (Izuku Midoriya).
He had literally advised the boy he was bullying to take a swan dive off a roof to hopefully get a Quirk in his next life.
(Suzuki), of course, would not act with any sort of deference toward such a person.
As a manga character, he'd found him compelling.
As a real, flesh-and-blood person standing before him, he held not an ounce of respect for him.
But he was forced to not show these feelings openly.
At that very moment, the red eyes of the two boys clashed.
(Bakugo)'s were blazing with volatile fury.
(Suzuki)'s were cool, assessing, like chips of blue ice observing a chemical fire.
But (Mina)'s voice cut through the tense standoff before (Bakugo) could say anything else.
"What's going on here? Is there a problem?"
(Mina) looked at the boy with the power to explode things from his sweat.
Her golden eyes, usually sparkling with mirth, were now staring at (Bakugo) with a sharpness that was completely different from the excited, bubbly girl from moments before.
This was simple: she felt threatened by (Bakugo).
Unlike (Suzuki), who seemed to treat the blonde's aggression as a mildly annoying background noise, (Mina) could feel the palpable, aggressive aura rolling off him.
She had heard the arrogant, showboating explosions he'd created while destroying robots.
Therefore, she didn't have the same inclination to speak kindly as she had with (Suzuki).
Of course, whether they spoke kindly or not, (Bakugo) didn't care about this group of extras from his point of view.
He snorted coldly, a dismissive pfft sound.
"You think you're better, huh? You're just an extra in this. The number one hero will be ME."
He lifted his thumb—a sharp, jerky motion—and pointed it at his own chest, his gaze locked on (Suzuki), who remained completely unaffected by this theatrical declaration.
(Suzuki) looked at (Bakugo) with utter calm, as if he were evaluating a strange, noisy insect.
But in the end, he said, utterly uninterested:
"Is that supposed to be something?"
The question hung in the air, so genuinely baffled that it was more insulting than any direct insult could ever be.
After that, (Suzuki) decided this was the best opportunity to present a certain image to the crowd.
After all, the hero he wanted to be in the future was a hero who could capture public attention to earn more money and gain support.
Of course, that was the same reason that undoubtedly had brought (Bakugo) here.
But did (Suzuki) care about this ranking?
Naturally not.
"Why would I care about being the number one hero? All I care about is saving people and becoming a hero."
He declared these words with extreme calm, so quiet they were almost swallowed by the ambient noise.
But without him realizing it, the attention of the people was directed at him, as if he possessed a peculiar aura of his own.
At the same time, the fact that he possessed no special Quirk kept them in a state of severe confusion.
Who was this guy?
(Mina), who was right beside them and heard this, couldn't help but smile.
She felt the boy in front of her didn't have the same threatening aura as (Bakugo).
So, when she heard his words, she began to believe him, piece by piece.
But for (Bakugo), his eyes grew even sharper.
Small, warning explosions began to pop from his palm with a sound like pop-crackle-SNAP!
"Heh. You want to become a hero to save people, is that it? What a pathetic goal. Being the number one hero is the only real goal!"
He despised people who pretended to be selfless extras of their own volition.
He lost interest at that moment.
He turned around, the motion sharp and final, his boots scraping against the rubble with a harsh screech.
He began to walk away with cold, deliberate steps.
Before finally turning his back completely, he looked over his shoulder at (Suzuki) one last time, his profile etched in disdain.
"Being just an extra is all you'll ever be in the future, got it? (Katsuki Bakugo) is the only one who will be number one. Remember that."
Fwoosh. A final, contemptuous burst of smoke erupted from his hand as he fully turned and stomped away, his figure gradually being swallowed by the dusty haze.
Finally, after he left, (Suzuki) didn't pay this any mind.
He noticed that the people around him were beginning to disperse, their curiosity waning.
He, too, lost interest.
He had done what he wanted.
After completing the test, there was no benefit in staying any longer.
The social battery he never knew he had was now critically low.
"What the hell is his problem? And why does he keep calling everyone 'extras'?!"
(Mina)'s voice was angry now, and she was on the verge of shouting in the direction (Bakugo) had gone.
But she noticed that (Suzuki) had already started to walk away, as if completely uninterested in the drama that had just unfolded.
He was leaving, his movements efficient and purposeful.
She felt, for a second, as if he was leaving her.
Of course, there was no relationship between them, not even a close friendship.
They had only met a few hours ago.
But honestly, she felt the boy in front of her could be a model for a good friend.
He was interesting, baffling, and didn't seem to look down on her excitement.
She wanted to be friends with him, especially because she sensed he was the lone-wolf type who didn't like having friends, even though he was nice.
Of course, if (Suzuki) were aware of this train of thought in (Mina)'s mind, he would have been deeply flustered and asked himself in all seriousness:
"Do I really look like a lone wolf who doesn't want to have friends?"
And honestly, if he thought about himself in this way, he would find that yes, he certainly did.
In the end, he didn't care about friends.
All he desired was to become a hero and, after that, to earn money in the future.
That was all he aspired to, at least for now.
Friendship was a variable he hadn't factored into his six-year plan. It came with emotional maintenance, unpredictable demands, and potential vulnerabilities—things his spreadsheet of life had no columns for.
He walked towards the exit gate, the sound of his boots on the broken pavement a steady click-clack, whirr-click, a rhythm of solitude and single-minded purpose, leaving behind the pink-haired girl, the lingering smell of explosions, and the first, confusing chapter of his life at UA.
──────────────────────
End of Chapter.
──────────────────────
📝 Dear Readers,
If you have any criticism about the story, I will be happy to answer it, I hope you liked the chapter
And I hope that you will appreciate the effort and give me some stonesstones ( Oh my god, this author is very cunning with this question) no one knows my thoughts