Chapter Eleven: Aizawa's Welcome and the Clink of Scrap Metal
This was the first day of school at UA High.
(Suzuki) had brought his gear and was wearing the academy's uniform, a crisp gakuran that felt strangely light and flimsy compared to the reinforced materials he was used to.
On his way out of the house, he found his grandmother looking at him, a complicated smile on her face.
It was a smile that held six years of worry, a lifetime of loss, and a fragile, blooming hope he'd put there with that acceptance letter.
He smiled back at her, a small, practiced expression.
"I'm leaving now, Grandma."
(Hana) looked at him calmly, her hands clasped tightly in her apron.
"Make sure you come back," she said, the words simple, but the meaning behind them was a canyon of unspoken fear.
In the end, he left the house, the door closing behind him with a soft but definitive click that echoed in the quiet morning street.
He went to the bus stop, boarded the bus with a swish of automatic doors, and set off for the UA Academy.
The bus hummed with a low, electric whirr, a sound of mundane normality that felt utterly surreal.
On the way, he thought about the position he would take in the class.
A quick check had revealed he was in Class 1-A.
The same class as the story's protagonist, (Izuku Midoriya).
That meant either he would be added as a new student, or one of the characters in the class would be absent.
Of course, he didn't care which character would be absent from the class.
But he hoped if someone was absent, especially, since he would use information about them as a method of connection or even for different uses in the future.
---
He arrived in front of the classroom door—the imposing, massive door labeled 1-A.
He slid it open with a heavy rumble-thud.
His first observation was that there was already one student present.
That student had a strong, muscular body, wore glasses, and had hair tending towards dark blue.
(Tenya Iida).
He stood ramrod straight by his desk, as if he'd been waiting for hours. He turned his head with a precise, mechanical motion—snap.
He looked at (Suzuki) calmly before saying in a loud, clear voice that seemed to vibrate the air itself:
"Good morning! Your arrival at this late hour is proof of your diligence!"
He said it in the exact style (Suzuki) had expected from him.
Firstly, (Suzuki) appeared to smile calmly.
At the same time, he didn't pretend to have no social skills—a pretense that required more effort than just defaulting to his awkward honesty.
"Ah, good morning. Welcome. My name is (Saito Suzuki). I hope we can spend an enjoyable time."
He said the things he had memorized, at least from social introductions in the psychology books he'd read in his spare time at home.
The Jet-Propulsion-Leg boy smiled—a stiff, formal curve of the lips—and extended his hand towards him.
(Suzuki) shook it.
Firm. Solid. Unyielding.
He noticed the strength of his hand as he held it.
He noted that the muscle power was very large.
It seemed he also possessed a good style of hand-to-hand combat skills.
This precise observation came from just a single moment of contact for (Suzuki) as he held (Iida)'s hand.
Calm down, I need to act normal. So, act logically.
But at the same time, it seemed (Suzuki) would head to the back seat.
He didn't want to be in the spotlight.
---
(Iida) did not speak further. He merely gave a short, sharp nod—dip.
(Suzuki) walked to the back seat, his school shoes making soft tap-taps on the polished floor.
He sat there, the chair emitting a tiny creak under his weight.
Then he looked out the window, taking a deep, silent breath to assess the second student who had arrived early to class.
For a person who loved rules and was an early messenger, he realized there were some people who matched the specifications he liked.
So he didn't speak. He waited.
(Iida) stood by the classroom door, a self-appointed greeter, ready to salute the other students who would enter.
---
And as expected, students began to trickle in, one by one, then in pairs.
The first girls to enter were (Ochaco Uraraka), her expression bright and a little overwhelmed, and (Momo Yaoyorozu), who carried an air of serene, unshakeable competence.
(Iida) received them with obvious respect, his posture and tone completely different from his first interaction with (Suzuki).
So different, in fact, that (Iida) even apologized for his behavior—a rapid-fire, stiff apology—which (Midoriya), who had entered just behind them looking like a lost, anxious bunny, quickly forgave.
From a distance, (Suzuki) watched this interaction, and in his mind, he could only think: The engine-leg Quirk user is very similar to the manga and anime. This perhaps clarifies that there might be many similarities, especially since this world is a manga world.
But he had imagined there would be differences from the first moments.
Yet maybe the differences would be more fundamental, starting now, since he had also become a part of the class.
---
The door opened again, this time not with a slide, but with a violent BANG! as it was kicked open.
(Katsuki Bakugo) entered, a storm of simmering fury in a school uniform.
He scanned the classroom seats quickly with a predatory glare—flick-flick-flick—and chose the seat that suited him: the one in the front, near the window.
He sat down with a heavy thump, not looking at anyone.
He lifted his feet onto the desk, the soles of his shoes hitting the wood with a disrespectful clack.
The pose was comfortable for him, and he looked like the type of bully you see in schools—a cliché made flesh and nitroglycerin sweat.
Of course, (Iida) went to him immediately, his arm chopping the air in a stiff, robotic motion.
"It is not permissible to put your feet up like that in the classroom!"
(Bakugo) didn't even look at the bespectacled boy. He just snorted, a wet, dismissive pfft sound.
"Get lost, you extra. I don't care about you."
He seemed to have lost interest in the conversation already. His gaze was fixed ahead, as if he were already in his own private universe of superiority.
The glasses-wearing student wanted to speak again, his mouth opening with a soft huff of indignation.
But in the end, (Uraraka) approached him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.
(Iida) understood what she meant and said, tightly, "There's no need for problems."
---
And so, time passed quickly.
More students entered in a stream of noise and color.
(Mina Ashido) bounced in with a cheerful "Heyyy!" and immediately started looking around, her golden eyes landing on (Suzuki) in the back. She gave him an enthusiastic wave, which he acknowledged with a slight, awkward tilt of his head.
(Eijiro Kirishima) entered with a sharp-toothed grin.
(Kyoka Jiro) shuffled in, earphone jacks dangling.
(Yuga Aoyama) sparkled literally and figuratively with a twinkle that seemed to have its own sound effect.
Finally, when the students were seated and the clock hit the precise time, the teacher entered.
He didn't slide the door open dramatically.
He seemed to ooze into the room, a figure clad in black, dragging a yellow sleeping bag behind him like a discarded cocoon. The bag made a soft shhh-shhh sound against the floor.
He stood before them all, and everyone fell silent, looking at him.
Everyone in the class noticed that the teacher in front of them looked as though he hadn't slept for a long time.
Not only that, but his hair was long and unkempt, and he wore clothes that seemed to have been used for several days.
Furthermore, the strange thing was that he had brought a sleeping bag with him.
And finally, he said, standing directly in front of their faces, his voice flat and dripping with exhaustion:
"Hurry up and get ready. Go and put on your gym uniforms. Your assessment test is about to begin."
---
Assessment test? So everyone thought.
But (Suzuki) was prepared for this.
So he went about it naturally and stood up.
Scrape.
His chair legs made a short, sharp sound on the floor.
Most of the students were surprised by the immediate action of the blue-haired, red-eyed student who moved with such calm decisiveness.
Of course, they understood he would go to the locker room to change into his gym clothes.
But the problem was that he did it immediately after the teacher—who had just informed them all of his name, (Shota Aizawa)—spoke.
Even the teacher himself watched the boy as he stood and walked to the door calmly before anyone else could follow.
Of course, they also wanted to ask the teacher about the type of test because they didn't understand the beginning of the selection at all.
But since someone among them had left so easily, they couldn't ask anymore. The precedent was set.
---
"(Saito)-kun!"
(Mina) approached (Suzuki) from behind in the locker room, the echo of her voice bouncing off the metal lockers.
But he didn't look at her.
He had been looking in the direction of most of the students moments before, but now he was focused solely on donning his gear.
The gym uniform felt insubstantial. His gear did not.
He knew there would be a physical fitness test: running, a ball throw, and the like, where everyone would use their Quirks.
But he had no Quirk or special ability.
Therefore, he had to make sure everything was optimal for him.
The clasps on his reinforced boots snapped shut with a series of definitive click-clacks.
The gauntlets, scuffed and worn, locked around his forearms with a thunk-whirr.
"Are you nervous? Don't worry, I'm sure it's just a normal test!"
(Mina) felt the tension (Suzuki) was under, as if he were carrying a hidden pressure.
Naturally, she didn't realize that pressure came from the test they were about to take, which his new teacher would personally conduct.
He knew the nature of this teacher from the manga.
He was aware that this test was real—someone could be expelled if they didn't meet the conditions he had for them.
Therefore, he had some anxiety, especially since most of his gadgets and equipment weren't at full efficiency.
In the end, he didn't have much money to repair them.
He had used some scrap parts plus some supportive things to patch up his gear, especially since he had used it heavily in the UA entrance exam.
"I'm fine. No problem. You should get ready. The test will be difficult."
He just wanted her to be quiet at that moment, so he said it.
But (Mina) felt he was telling the truth, so she smiled, happy that she had managed to get him to talk again.
"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll do well! You were amazing in the entrance exam!"
Was I amazing? (Suzuki) wondered.
For him, that exam had been extremely difficult and had exhausted him greatly, even depleting many of the resources he had worked on for six years.
But when he thought that he had finally managed to get in… and now he had to prove himself again… he found that everything now seemed to be without reward, and at the same time, had a huge cost.
But he didn't care.
He looked at her, having finished putting on his gear, the metal and polymer components creating a faint silhouette of added bulk to his lean frame.
"I don't feel things will go well. So, I'll do my best."
He wanted to say it in a normal way, as if it didn't matter, but he realized he had been too serious in saying it.
In the end, he walked out, and the other students looked at him.
---
"What is that gear?"
(Kyoka Jiro), next to (Tsuyu Asui), was looking at the equipment (Suzuki) was wearing.
It consisted of a gauntlet and distinctive yellow boots.
It seemed there were metal parts on them.
(Momo Yaoyorozu), who was intelligent from the start, recognized the parts but didn't understand what he would do with them.
Of course, (Shota Aizawa) had learned about the student who had surprised most of the other pros in the observation room—the one without a Quirk or special ability.
Anyway, he didn't care now.
He was focused on this test.
So he said afterwards, his voice cutting through the murmurs:
"This test will determine for me whether you continue on the path of a hero or not."
He didn't need much thinking from them, because he continued, his tired eyes scanning them like a predator assessing weak prey.
"This test will assess your capabilities. If you're not up to the required level, you will be expelled. I'll make sure of it."
And then he looked specifically at the green-haired boy and then at the blue-haired boy.
Both of them were looking in different ways at the teacher in front of them.
(Midoriya) was nervous and didn't know what would happen.
But (Suzuki) was calmer.
Even so, his fist was trembling.
Not from excitement or fear.
But from increasing, furious, calculating thought.
The game had begun. And the price of failure was not a bad grade, but the end of a six-year dream before it could even properly start.
The scrap-metal hero was ready, or as ready as he could be with patched-up boots and a heart full of cold, pragmatic fire.
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End of Chapter.
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📝 Heroes in Training,
The first day hits hard with Aizawa's infamous test! Suzuki's pre-emptive move, Mina's persistent friendliness, Bakugo's simmering rage, and Iida's rigid formality—all set against the looming threat of expulsion. What are your predictions? Will Suzuki's jury-rigged gear hold up? How will his Quirkless presence affect the dynamics of the test and the class? Your theories and reactions are the real prize here. Please share your thoughts in a comment below