Chapter Twenty-Four
(Katsuki Bakugo) was staring at the floor.
He had woken up on one of the pristine beds in the school infirmary.
The sterile smell of antiseptic filled his nostrils,a stark contrast to the familiar scents of ozone and sweat.
"Impossible."
The word was a low growl, vibrating in his chest.
"I lost to that worthless extra."
How did that happen? I was definitely going to win. How did I lose?
Before he could continue his spiraling thoughts, the door to the room opened with a soft click.
The school's resident youth-preserving Recovery Girl walked in.
She glanced at the now-awake boy and asked,her tone professional and slightly bored.
"You're awake. It seems the anesthetic gas didn't affect you too much. I thought you'd take a bit longer."
The healing heroine made her way to her desk, the tap-tap of her cane echoing in the quiet room.
She opened a file and began writing some notes,her interest in the boy who seemed to be suffering from shock—so much so that he didn't hear or answer her question—apparently at an end.
Since he was in good physical condition—she'd monitored him for an hour and found no serious issues—she didn't bother further.
Besides,she had more responsibilities.
In contrast to the nonchalant old woman, the head of (Katsuki Bakugo)—capable of setting off multiple explosions in a short moment—was suffering from a problem akin to a computer with insufficient processing power.
His mind was struggling with the fundamental,unacceptable reality: he had lost to someone without a Quirk.
But in the end, he got up.
He didn't look toward Recovery Girl,who also said nothing as she watched him leave, merely remaining seated and continuing to fill out her treatment forms.
Slam.
The infirmary door shut behind him with more force than necessary.
He walked swiftly through the hallways,his eyes fixed straight ahead, unblinking.
Finally,he went to the classroom.
He found no one.
Then,he finally noticed… it seemed the school day had ended. Everyone had gone home.
---
Two hours later, he was on his way back home, gripping his school bag with white-knuckled intensity as he replayed the events of the confrontation.
He had been on the verge of winning.
His offensive power,even without his Quirk at the end, was stronger than his opponent's.
His opponent was a person with no Quirk.What chance did he have to be equal?
Yet,he had been the losing party in that encounter.
How?
What (Bakugo) remembered was being on the cusp of launching a sequential attack.
He was aware his physical skills were superior to his opponent's.
But those tools…that glove, the boots, the chest armor… they had completely changed the equation.
The armor absorbed impacts.
The glove was strong enough that the moment it grabbed his arm,he couldn't move.
And then those boots,capable of allowing the Quirkless weakling to accelerate fast enough to throw him into the wall with destructive force.
The impact had given him a brief stun—a kind of shock to his system that left him unable to move for a short moment.
And then… "The anesthetic gas."
Even without anyone pointing it out, he himself was capable of deducing the cause of his unconsciousness.
True,the force of crashing into the wall was strong and had rattled his head a little.
But his body,accustomed to close-range explosions, could easily withstand such an impact.
So,he arrived at the cause of his blackout.
"That anesthetic gas. That bastard made me breathe anesthetic gas."
It was the closest, most probable conclusion he had reached.
As he entered his front door,the old hag (his mother) was about to ask why he was late.
But he didn't listen.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
He went straight to his room and sat down at his personal study desk.
There,he arrived at the rest of the conclusions.
"That gas alone wouldn't have been enough to knock me out that fast. There's a problem here I need to think about."
The mind of the future hero that (Katsuki) cultivated began working at full capacity.
The gas that had reached his nose,which he had breathed in at the end, wasn't that large in quantity.
He was sure the amount of gas wasn't enough to make him lose consciousness in mere seconds.
So,how had he lost consciousness?
A minute?Two? Three?
Finally, he arrived at an understanding of the reason.
"The gas was already dispersed everywhere. It wasn't just the gas he threw at me at the end."
In truth, during the fight, he'd had a feeling… a strange smell in the place.
That gas he used to create those holograms…it was actually a compound working in tandem with the final anesthetic.
In the end,it caused the direct sleep-inducing effect.
While he was breathing in that gas during the minute or more he spent destroying the holographic copies,he was being primed for the final knockout.
And he,like an idiot, hadn't realized it.
For the first time in his life, (Katsuki) reached a state of… calm.
Contrary to anger or confusion.
He felt there was no use in anger.
For the first time in his life,there was no benefit to being angry.
Because he hadlost.
Because he hadn't accounted for the idea that his opponent would prepare that liquid that made him unable to use his explosion Quirk.
Plus the gas that worked to make the second anesthetic gas stronger.
A multi-layered,three-part plan.
And he had simply never thought it could succeed because he had never anticipated such action from that worthless,Quirkless nobody.
"(Suzuki Saito). I remember you."
---
The next day, when (Katsuki) went to UA Academy, he entered the classroom.
Everyone was staring at him.
He could feel their eyes—pity,curiosity, wariness—boring into him like physical needles.
But he avoided them all.
His crimson gaze swept across the room and landed on its target.
He walked directly to where (Suzuki) was sitting.
The class collectively held its breath.
Screeeech.
A chair was pushed back somewhere.
People were on the verge of intervening,thinking another explosive confrontation was about to begin.
But (Suzuki) stood up first.
He turned and looked directly into(Katsuki)'s eyes, his own red irises calm and unreadable.
"I'm truly glad that gas didn't cause any lasting problems for you."
The sincere concern in his voice was convincing enough to make the class look at him with a different perspective.
They knew(or thought they knew) that (Suzuki)'s actions were friendly in this moment, based on his movements and tone.
But to (Katsuki), it sounded different.
It sounded like gloating wrapped in faux politeness.
So,he spoke with pure, undiluted derision.
"Stop pretending, you bastard. You're not a smart person. You're a deceitful one. Aren't you?"
(Suzuki) pretended not to understand what (Katsuki) was talking about.
He tilted his head slightly,a picture of confused innocence.
"What are you talking about? I think I just used what I had to win against you. Isn't that the correct way to be a hero? To use everything at your disposal and minimize damage to zero?"
He was right.
And that infuriated(Katsuki) even more.
But he didn't show it.
His hands,usually sparking by now, remained still at his sides.
Against all expectations of the class—who were waiting for the student who had been shouting since the first day to erupt—(Katsuki Bakugo)smiled.
It was a fierce,predator's smile, all sharp edges and promised violence.
"I'll make sure to see if that works a second time, you Quirkless freak."
And before anyone could fully process the chilling calm of his threat, (Katsuki) turned and walked to his own seat.
He sat down with a definitivethump, appearing to be done with the conversation.
On the other hand, (Mina) and (Kirishima) had approached (Suzuki) with looks mixed with worry and confusion, especially from (Kirishima), who felt caught between his new admiration for (Suzuki) and his existing, complicated friendship with (Bakugo).
"Don't worry. He just lost badly," (Kirishima) said, trying to sound reassuring but coming off slightly awkward.
(Suzuki) smiled as if he didn't care about what had just happened.
"Don't worry. (Bakugo) isn't upset. It seems he's overcome a problem he had and has found the solution for it."
Then, he sat back down in his seat.
At that next moment,Teacher (Aizawa) entered the classroom, a slumped-over mummy of exhaustion.
Everyone else hurried to do the same,the morning's tension dissipating under their teacher's dead-eyed scrutiny.
But in his mind, (Suzuki) was thinking, watching (Bakugo) from the corner of his eye.
(Interesting. I didn't imagine this reaction. I thought he'd be furious. Could it be he actually thought about it calmly?)
The game was far from over. The first round had concluded.
But the explosive boy in the back wasn't just smoldering now.
He was cold.Calculating.
And that,(Suzuki) realized, might be a far more dangerous opponent than the one he had drugged and netted yesterday.
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End of Chapter.
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A Note from the Strategist's Corner:!