Chapter Eighteen
Silence. A heavy, swallowing quiet that descended upon the training ground with the abruptness of a dropped curtain.
(Eijiro Kirishima)'s stunned exclamation had been the detonator.
Now,the blast wave of shock rippled outwards, visible in the stillness of two dozen teenage heroes-in-training.
All eyes were drawn to the epicenter:the blue-haired boy.
They looked at him not as a classmate, but as a sudden anomaly. A statistical error in their Quirk-saturated reality.
Confusion was the most common expression,etched plainly on their faces—a mix of disbelief, curiosity, and the universal 'processing… please wait' look.
(Shota Aizawa) was also silent, a statue wrapped in gray fabric.
But behind his weary eyelids,his mind was a supercomputer running damage assessments and probability simulations.
He hadn't anticipated this.
For a student to reveal such a fundamental vulnerability with such…bluntness.
In the end,the element of surprise, of hiding his Quirkless nature, was a significant tactical advantage (Suzuki) could have exploited.
Of course,it would have weakened his position later if he'd kept it hidden while everyone else's abilities became common knowledge. Social balance in a hero course relied on a rough understanding of mutual capabilities.
But for(Suzuki) to unveil this card now, so early, so publicly…
It was a move(Aizawa) hadn't foreseen.
On the other hand, (Mina), who had been standing between the two boys, stared back and forth.
Her pink skin seemed to pale a shade,her golden eyes wide.
But then,characteristically, a brilliant, sunshine-bright smile broke across her face. She was the first to shatter the oppressive quiet.
"That's amazing! I still can't believe you're Quirkless! Even now, you're so cool, Saito-kun!"
Her voice, cheerful and genuine, cut through the tension like a laser.
It was the permission slip the others needed to start processing reality.
Murmurs began,a soft susurrus of whispers that rustled across the sand like dry leaves.
(Suzuki), who had been the still, silent core of the storm, finally moved.
He offered(Mina) a smile.
It wasn't a precise expression.Perhaps because his face was naturally frozen, not from cold, but from a lifetime of practiced neutrality.
He'd been trying to cultivate an unreadable expression—a skill he desperately wanted to master.
It always helped to gain an advantage over emotionally volatile people,a trick he'd gleaned from his extensive reading of psychology texts during his training years.
"Thank you for that. I believe I can become even more remarkable if I manage to become a hero without a Quirk. Don't you think?"
He looked at her as he asked, but the question wasn't truly for her.
It was a probe.A test balloon launched into the atmosphere of the class to gauge reaction patterns.
He wanted to see the ripples.
And see them he did.
The reactions were a fascinating spectrum of human micro-expressions.
There was blatant disbelief mixed with awe(from a few of the less judgmental). There was disbelief mixed with utter confusion (from most). And then there were the specific data points he was truly monitoring.
His crimson eyes, subtle as scanning lasers, swept the crowd.
He cataloged them,but his focus narrowed to two. Three, if he wanted to be precise.
The first: (Izuku Midoriya).
The boy who had acquired the power ofOne For All, having lived a life devoid of a Quirk until very recently.
He has just discovered this. What is he thinking?
(Suzuki)wanted to know, but he could easily guess.
The expression on(Midoriya)'s face was a masterpiece of internal crisis.
Shock.Awe. A dawning, terrifying insecurity.
He looked like someone who couldn't believe another Quirkless person—apeer—had made it into UA.
While he,(Midoriya) had needed a legendary, world-altering power just to stand on the same starting line.
The green-haired boy was now likely trapped in a vortex of shock,fear, and profound disorientation. His mouth was slightly agape, his fingers twitching at his sides.
The second target of (Suzuki)'s scan: the spiky blond with perpetually furious red eyes.
(Katsuki Bakugo).
Small,harmless-looking sparks—pop-crackle-fizz—danced erratically across his palms.
He was staring in their direction,his eyes squinted, a low-grade scowl plastered on his face.
But unlike(Midoriya), (Bakugo) was always angry. His baseline was rage.
Therefore,deciphering any specific anger from his general state of perpetual eruption was difficult.
(Suzuki)couldn't read this particular expression well. Was it contempt? Annoyance at the interruption? Or a spark of… interest?
The data was inconclusive.Filed for later analysis.
"And what about you, son of the number two hero?"
His gaze then slid, cool and assessing, to the final primary subject.
The boy with half-white,half-red hair.
(Shoto Todoroki).
(Todoroki)stared back for a few moments, his expression the usual placid, emotionless lake.
It was the face of someone who couldn't be bothered.
But(Suzuki), with his analytical obsession, noticed the minute tightening around (Todoroki)'s eyes. A micro-contraction. A flicker of… something.
Not interest,perhaps. But recognition of a strategic variable.
(Suzuki) allowed himself a small, internal smile.
He had achieved exactly the desired result.
This shockwave would direct all their attention toward him as a distinct,singular entity.
Some might criticize him.He wasn't sure about that.
But they would all be thinking one thing,united in their confusion:
"How can he be here with us?"
Not because they all looked down on the Quirkless with disdain—though some undoubtedly might—but because, for most of them, their Quirks were their security blankets. Their ticket, their very identity as future heroes.
It was natural for them to assume that those without Quirks had no chance,no right, to stand on this hallowed sand.
Their worldview had just been politely,firmly, kicked in the shin.
"My opinion on that thinking was clear."
He turned his attention back to the still-frozen (Kirishima) standing before him.
But as he took a step closer,something in the redhead seemed to unlock.
The shock melted,not into pity or disgust, but into a radiant, overwhelming burst of enthusiasm.
(Eijiro)'s sharp-toothed grin returned,wider and more brilliant than before.
"THAT'S SO MANLY!" he boomed, his voice echoing.
He lunged forward,not to attack, but to grab (Suzuki)'s forearm in a grip that felt like being seized by a friendly, excited rock crusher.
Thwump.
"You're so manly!" he repeated, shaking (Suzuki)'s arm slightly, his eyes shining.
This wasn't the shock of disgust.This was the shock of admiration.
(Suzuki)could see his thought process as if it were subtitled.
(Kirishima)had a Quirk, but he'd been weak, unable to use it well.
It was only after that incident—watching(Mina) stand up to protect a friend—that he found his resolve to become an 'unbreakable shield.'
He truly believed in that heroic ideal.
And in his mental calculus,he likely never believed someone without a Quirk could even attempt the hero's path.
Yet the young man standing before him wasn't lying.He was here.
(Kirishima)glanced at his middle-school friend, (Mina), who was still smiling and nodding as if this was the coolest news ever, confirming the truth.
So,the disbelief transformed into pure, unadulterated hype.
He leaned in closer to (Suzuki), his voice a stage whisper of excitement.
"You're really amazing! So you use that equipment, right?! To become a hero! You're amazing!"
He kept repeating the word 'amazing,' but his eyes were now laser-focused on the gear bag (Suzuki) had left a few meters away.
(Suzuki)noted the focus.
Without a word,he walked over, the sand crunching—skrrt-skrrt—under his boots.
He picked up the nondescript black bag,unzipped it with a sharp zzzip, and pulled out the older, functional versions of his gear: a reinforced gauntlet, a boot with visible hydraulic assists, a multi-lens visor.
(Kirishima) watched, utterly captivated, as if being shown Excalibur.
"Whoaaa…"
At the same time, (Suzuki) was aware of the larger movement around them.
The initial shock was giving way to curiosity.The class was starting to drift closer, a slow, magnetic pull toward the unusual spectacle.
(Momo Yaoyorozu), ever composed, was the first to formally break from the periphery and approach their now-trio, making it a quartet.
She moved with a natural,elegant grace, coming to stand naturally beside (Mina).
Her dark,observant eyes swept over the equipment in (Suzuki)'s hands, then lifted to meet his crimson gaze.
Her tone was polite, analytical, and utterly devoid of the social cushioning others might use.
"I had expected you to possess a Quirk. It turns out you do not."
The statement, delivered with her unique brand of factual bluntness, could have been jarring. To many, it might even sound rude, as if she didn't value the general sentiment of not pointing out someone's 'lack.'
But(Suzuki)'s eyes remained calm pools. He appreciated efficiency.
"That is correct. I aim to become a hero to prove to everyone that even ordinary people who wish to become heroes… can do so."
Of course, these weren't his true feelings.
He didn't feel some noble calling to represent the Quirkless masses.
He was,in truth, driven by envy of the heroes' spotlight, a desire to be the center of attention, the person everyone depended on.
Simultaneously,he liked money, and the hero profession brought a lot of it, along with future opportunities.
Frankly,he shared some traits with certain characters from The Boys, but he was different.
He wasn't going to become a psychotic murderer in the future.
Besides,he was relying on creating this very stir, this controversy, to attract attention.
He needed to direct people's focus,not toward his inherent power, but toward his intelligence, to draw everyone toward his inventions before they could form other judgments.
But before the gathering crowd could fully converge, a voice, dry and laden with authority, cut through the murmuring like a knife through gossamer.
"Stop what you're doing right now."
All heads snapped toward the source.
(Shota Aizawa)hadn't moved from his spot, but his presence seemed to have expanded, filling the space.
His eyes glowed a faint,dangerous red, his hair levitating slightly—a silent, terrifying reminder of his power.
"It's training time. Train. Only."
The interruption was absolute.
The students who had been edging closer froze mid-step.
A single,stern look from (Aizawa), which seemed to linger on (Suzuki) for a half-second longer—a look that said, 'I see your little scheme forming, and I'm not amused, but we'll deal with it later'—was enough.
He then turned his withering glare on the rest of the class.
Skitter-scatter.
The magnetic pull dissolved. Students hastily returned to their previous activities with renewed, slightly nervous vigor.
(Suzuki)'s newly formed group of four also disbanded,the social experiment put on hold.
The atmosphere returned to a semblance of normalcy, though now charged with a new, unspoken current.
The quiet was no longer just quiet;it was thoughtful, buzzing with suppressed questions.
(Eijiro Kirishima)'s eyes, when they met (Suzuki)'s again, held a newfound softness.
Not that he hadn't been kind before,but it was as if a pressure had been released.
In the end,his own personality had been slightly introverted and pressured for a while since his transformation.
Now,witnessing (Suzuki)'s boldness, he seemed… freer. His gaze held more open admiration.
And of course, (Mina) was there, chattering away every second, which greatly facilitated the social integration.
She was a perfect buffer,her natural energy absorbing any residual awkwardness.
But the person who truly caught (Suzuki)'s attention, the one whose gaze he felt most keenly, was (Momo Yaoyorozu).
She wasn't staring athim with awe or confusion.
She was staring at the equipment he had briefly held.
Her dark,intelligent eyes were analyzing, dissecting, reverse-engineering the gear in her mind.
She was utterly silent,her gaze fixed on the tools as if they held a language she was desperately trying to decipher.
In her silence,(Suzuki) saw not judgment of the man, but a profound assessment of the method.
And that,he thought, might be the most interesting reaction of all.
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End of Chapter.
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A Note from the Social Experiment's Lab Assistant:
I'm sorry, friends, for the delay in downloading the chapter I wrote
My parents and I were building a real wall for the new house, so I hope you'll excuse me
If you liked this novel, I hope you will fill it with comments and reviews too