The next day, his first class was English with Present Mike. Taiko didn't try to steal the spotlight: he let his classmates answer aloud while he quietly checked everything they'd said against his own notes in his notebook. He wrote down what he knew, checked what he might have forgotten. He focused especially on pronouns, going over the rules and examples in his mind to make sure he wasn't missing anything.
«How's Kuinn? I haven't been to that side of the academy by the Management Department yet. I'll have to go there and check things out.»
Familiar faces from 1-B occasionally passed by the cafeteria, but they limited themselves to stealthy observations. No one was in a hurry to approach him. Taiko chose a seat away from the general bustle, ordered curry with rice and vegetables, and finally allowed himself a few minutes of silence. The silence, as luck would have it, ended when Shoto Todoroki appeared across from him.
—Are you free?
— Sit down. It's a strange choice to seek my company, son of Endeavor.
Taiko said this lazily, as if simply stating a fact. Shoto caught the provocation but swallowed it as calmly as he would his future dinner.
—It's good for the strong to stay close to each other," he replied dryly.
Taiko nodded at the trio nearby: Izuku, Ochako, and the overly serious Tenya.
—Strong? Don't suck up. Better yet, admit why you didn't prefer their company?
—Are they bothering you somehow? They seem like good guys.
—Let the 'good guys' keep to themselves. I appreciate the silence while Tenya clings to my every step like a control freak. I had to put him in his place a little. Aizawa would call these 'futile' questions," Taiko's lips twitched, betraying satisfaction with his own wit. "And Izuku and Ochako live in a fairy tale. For them, the world is still divided into good and evil.
Shoto sat down, ignoring Taiko's reproachful gaze. He pretended to be interested only in food. But the question still followed:
—So, naivety is a crime?
—A crime...—Taiko whispered, recalling Grimm's past. The gray haze over Taiko's eyes caught Shoto's attention, and he quickly distracted himself. "In any case, they can't compare to me," Taiko said confidently, as if stating a fact.
Almost imperceptibly, the corners of Todoroki's lips twitched. For a moment, something akin to mockery, and perhaps understanding, appeared in his gaze.
—First place also looks... fragile. Is the crown too tight on your head? At least you—meaning we—didn't take first place in Aizawa's test. We were beaten by that explosive Bakugou and a few other fairly motivated guys. In particular, Mezo Shoji, maybe you remember? The guy with a Quirk that can change limbs. And he has several of them. —it sounded cold, as if casually.
—He has quite a versatile Quirk,— Taiko agreed, narrowing his eyes. The air grew slightly heavier. Taiko looked up and met Shoto's gaze. His scar over his two-toned eye tightened, emphasizing the severity of his answer. —Crowns only pinch those who are afraid they'll be snatched away at any second. I don't have that problem. And Bakugou has a truly versatile Quirk; he can explode and even fly. What a hedgehog. Although his physical strength is barely above average.
—Yes, I can't forget how you embarrassed him in front of Class 1B." He'll remember this and try to get even.
Todoroki took a leisurely bite, keeping his attention on him. They ate in silence, but the silence had transformed into a new form of conversation. A challenge without words. A rivalry without a blow. An interest without recognition. Taiko continued to ponder why Shoto had decided to sit next to him.
—Could he really be taking revenge for that little jab at his father? It's not like he respected him, but it seems I caught his attention.
—Perhaps this is your cunning plan to get close to me, to probe my weaknesses before the upcoming confrontation?— Taiko continued, narrowing his eyes so that the scar on his two-toned eye curved like a predatory lipless smile.
—As you say...—Shoto chuckled, completely losing interest in the conversation.
—Okay, I'll leave the son of the top two heroes alone. — Taiko especially emphasized Shoto's father's lack of primacy and, quickly finishing lunch, hurried to the Faculty of Management to see his girlfriend.
Shoto didn't look away even after Taiko left the cafeteria. And, surprisingly, the conversation seemed rather amused. It lacked the usual awe with which Shoto had been showered since childhood, the moment they heard his last name.
"Oh, the son of the Top Two Heroes," "Heir to greatness," "He has a special destiny"—an endless, sticky admiration that made you want to peel your skin off. Everyone tiptoed around him, as if he were not a person, but a fragile exhibit in a national museum.
But here it was different. Taiko pressed, prodded, tested his strength. And no one within the cafeteria rushed to his defense. No one stopped breathing. No one whispered in panic.
Entering the academy brought a strange, unfamiliar freedom. For the first time, his father's influence seemed to not permeate every inch of the air around him. And, paradoxically, sitting at the same table with a man who was insolent, not servile, and not succumbing to fear was almost… pleasant.
A difficult character? Yes. Unpredictable? Absolutely. But far more honest than those who bowed with a smile, dreaming of using his last name.
...
Taiko walked down the long UA corridor toward the Faculty of Management, his every step echoing louder than he'd intended. His uniform fit perfectly, his gaze focused, but the recent meeting with the lawyer still played on his mind like a stuck film.
He and Kuinn sat across from that same lawyer, who looked overly pleased, as if making allowances for morality. The lawyer's support proved decisive: the documents were accepted, and Quinn now wore her maiden name again, the same one that belonged to her long-dead parents. The name of those Taiko had never seen but respected, because it was their absence that connected them to Kuinn.
After the accident, Kyudai, who had already taken care of little Taiko, took Kuinn as well. Thus, she received the name Garaki... and with it, thousands of questions, glances, and conjectures would arise. They had always been close, but it was after the tragedy that their love finally reached a new level. A real, adult relationship, not just childish preoccupation. Foreshadowing the disaster that would follow their relationship into UA if it became public knowledge, they decided to make this legal move to build on. The Academy might tolerate exploding children, teleportation, ice spears, and people flying on flames, but dating "step-siblings" was too much. People loved to whisper, given the opportunity, and ruining each other's careers over idiotic circumstances was unacceptable.
So they had to act. If they weren't going to shy away from hiding their relationship, they needed to remove the source of gossip. Changing their last name solved the problem on paper. People can be blind when it suits them.
He stopped by the window and pressed his palm against the cool glass. For a moment, he simply gazed at the bustle of the Academy, until his thoughts drifted back to their usual depths. Just then, someone's hands fell on his eyes—soft, warm, too familiar to doubt for a second.
Kuinn.
—Guess who?— a voice sounded right next to his ear, and it held that cheeky smile you can hear even with your eyes closed.
Taiko raised his hands defiantly, as if surrendering to an enemy.
—The great and terrible All Might? Please, just let me live,— he pleaded, feigning panic.
Kuinn laughed softly and removed her hands, but remained standing almost right next to him, so close that his spirit was visible not just in his eyes, but in his skin. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, but beneath it, something else was lurking—far from childish.
— Wrong answer,—she said, intertwining her fingers with his. —But somehow I knew you'd say that
Taiko lingered on her, a little longer than proper school etiquette allowed. And when did he ever observe rules when it came to her? The name tag on her chest revealed the difference in their surnames.
—Then I must make amends,—he said calmly. —Later.
Kuinn nodded, as if the agreement had been made without words.
...
Kuinn's classmates were once again discussing everyone indiscriminately, as if it were a mandatory ritual before each new class. First, they went over those who had recently acquired new mentors. Then they moved on to those whose connections turned out to be weaker than they seemed. And finally, to those who had suddenly risen up the social ladder. And then the conversation smoothly turned to where everyone was expecting it to go.
To Kuinn.
Opinions were divided. Some said she was "too arrogant for her money." Others insisted she was "trying to climb above her class, even though she wasn't born at that level." And still others even claimed she was "pretending to be better than everyone else, even though her place was in the back room." The girls from the Administration Department knew how to smile, but their words cut deeper than knives. And they did it with sweet relish.
The Department of Heroes was renowned for its strength. The Administration Department—for people who knew how to make the strong work for them. The scions of the rich, the heirs of corporations, the future elite of the country. Information, connections, influence—these were the muscles of this faculty. It was a swamp of intrigue, where prestige, not fists, was the only means of combat.
One of the girls, the one who loved profiting from other people's secrets, smirked smugly through her heavily lipsticked lips:
—Daddy's a banker. He asked someone... and found out the status of some students. You know, it's important to understand who's on what level.
The girls approached conspiratorially.
—Kuinn... only has sixteen million yen and the country house where she lives.
A pause. Enough to embarrass her, but not enough to protect her.
—Not a beggar, but definitely not our elite,—they concluded, almost in unison.
Later, when classes had ended and Class 1-A of the Faculty of Management filed noisily out into the hallway, fate presented them with a sight they never expected to see. Along the wall, on the wide windowsill, sat Kuinn. The same cold, withdrawn, and unapproachable Kuinn they'd just discussed.
But she didn't look cold at all.
A boy stood next to her. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Black hair fell carelessly over his face, hiding his expression as he gazed out the window, his elbow resting on the wall. One of his hands rested almost weightlessly on Kuinn's leg, dangling over the sill—a barely perceptible movement, but so confident that it suggested both possessiveness and protection.
Kuinn spoke softly, her gaze softer, her voice gentler than anyone in the class would have imagined. It was as if she were different. Real.
The girls moved closer—first to get more details, and then, of course, so as not to miss the chance to poke fun.
—Well, that's a surprise, Kuinn,—one said with a smile that was never genuine. —You have... someone?
Kuinn was about to flare up, her gaze icy, her shoulders tense. One wrong word and she would explode. But the guy next to her only gave her leg a gentle squeeze, reassuringly, as if he knew she was under pressure.
She exhaled.
—You may have a lot of money. Your parents may be influential. But you don't have any real loved ones. I look at you and see a golden shell... and inside, there's emptiness.
The girls burst out laughing—politely, contemptuously. But their laughter died when the stranger slowly turned his head. His gaze, with its black-red corneas, pierced them with cold. The scar on his face twitched, making his expression predatory and obvious. You don't need to know a name to sense a threat. But everyone knew the name.
Taiko Garaki.
Top of the entrance exam.
Someone best left alone at UA.
A second was enough. The chatter ended. The girls moved quickly away, then retreated completely, disappearing around the corner amid whispers reeking of fear and gossip.
When the hallway was empty, Taiko exhaled and took Kuinn's hand.
—The world is full of hungry hyenas, my love.— His voice was calm, even lazy. —But we don't have to live pretending we have no one. We have ourselves.
Kuinn smiled. Tenderly, truly. And the old, cold mask she wore in class crumbled to dust.
—Yeah❤️,—she answered quietly.
There was very little time left before the bell. Just a little while to be ourselves. To be happy, while the outside world didn't like it.
Kuinn glanced at the girls. Their breasts were larger than hers, their forms slightly more voluptuous. She imagined how Taiko could easily trade her for these empty-headed creatures. Richer, more beautiful in some way...her heart sank and thumped unpleasantly. But then, following his gaze, she realized she needn't worry about it. He looked at her with a slightly less serious and cold gaze, unlike his everyday one. She realized, comparing from a distance, that her gaze even mirrored his. They were so similar...
«He doesn't even look at them.» — The girl sighed freely, moving closer to her beloved.
Taiko was looking at her, not at these girls. It was immediately clear he didn't see them the way Kuinn did. His gaze was filled with selfless devotion and love, so she quickly dismissed these silly thoughts that had only momentarily clouded her judgment. She couldn't let the hyenas separate them.
Seeing her classmates' reactions to Taiko, Kuinn began to feel a little jealous that she hadn't had a similar effect on them the first time they met. They despised her, albeit less openly. Earning respect was impossible. And then, with just one look, Taiko put them in their place and elicited such a strong reaction. Was this really it? This was power. Showing strength to gain respect. It was so simple...
It's one thing to simply be strong, but when that strength is measured not in physical attributes but in monetary terms, it's quite another. The girl promised herself to become a better person and increase their wealth.