[U.A. CLASS 1-A — FREE PERIOD]
Toru Hagakure was furious.
Not annoyed. Not irritated. Not mildly inconvenienced.
Furious.
And she made absolutely sure the entire class knew it.
"I mean it — THREE TIMES!" her gloves slapped against her desk. "THREE! TIMES! HOW IS THAT EVEN STATISTICALLY POSSIBLE?!"
Mina leaned over her desk, chin in her hands, fully entertained.
"I mean… it is ...."
"That's not an excuse!" Toru wailed.
Sero stretched in his seat. "Honestly, at this point, you two have gravitational pull. Cosmic inevitability."
"STOP SAYING THAT!"
Kirishima raised a hand gently. "Toru, uh… are you okay?"
"I'm being TARGETED!"
Dark Shadow peeked from Tokoyami's shoulder. "Your suffering sustains me."
"YOU'RE NOT HELPING!"
The class burst into laughter.
Toru slumped over dramatically. "I'm going to fail the Sports Festival because my bones will be powdered by lunchtime mishaps."
Mina took a thoughtful sip of her drink.
"So… anyone have any ideas why this is happening?"
Her gaze was focused on the girls.
"Hmm? No idea."
"Beats me, ribbit"
"Not a clue."
Mina sighed. Then looked at Uraraka who seemed to be in thought. "Uraraka?— what do you think?"
Uraraka blinked, not expecting to be dragged into this. "Huh? Me?"
The room quieted a little, eager for some input from the resident Nice Girl.
Uraraka tapped her chin innocently.
"Well… I read something in a magazine once…"
Seventeen heads leaned in.
"…that sometimes when a boy likes a girl, he'll look for excuses to get closer. You know, little interactions. Even bumps or clumsy moments. It's a thing."
The classroom froze.
Sound left the universe.
Even Kaminari's brain static died out.
Then—
"…PFFT—HAHAHAHA—WHAT?!" Kaminari exploded into laughter.
"LIKE?! TORU?!" Mineta screamed, horrified. "WH-WHY?!"
"Hey!" Toru snapped.
Ojiro chuckled. "No offense, but—how can someone like someone they can't see?"
The classroom collectively inhaled.
Toru slowly turned her head.
Her gloves twitched.
"…Explain," she said flatly.
Ojiro's tail froze mid-swing. "I—I didn't mean it like that—"
"Oh really?" Toru folded her arms. "So you're saying I'm un-lovable because I'm invisible?"
"N-No! I'm saying it's hard to—visually—uh—evaluate—things—"
"DIG YOURSELF OUT, OJIRO," Kaminari whispered. "DIG FAST."
"YOU'RE NOT HELPING!"
Ojiro sputtered. "I didn't mean—Toru—please—"
Before Toru could bury him alive with words, Midoriya frantically waved both arms.
"A-Anyway! Uraraka's theory isn't necessarily applicable! There's no concrete evidence that Yuta-san has displayed typical attraction behaviors, so we shouldn't jump to conclusions—!"
Bless him.
The tension dissolved.
"Thank you, Midoriya," Ojiro mouthed weakly.
Toru huffed. "Still offended."
Mina giggled.
"So, Toru—now that we've all been emotionally traumatized, the real question is…"
She leaned in.
"Do you think he likes you?"
"Absolutely not!" Toru snapped instantly. "He doesn't even SEE me. Literally. That's the entire issue!"
Sero shrugged. "I'm more interested in how he disappeared when we turned around because of Bakugo."
Bakugo slammed his desk.
"ARE YOU SAYING THIS IS MY FAULT?!"
"Technically," Sero said, "your voice triggered the turn."
"YOU WANT TO DIE?!"
"See? Look at that reaction time," Sero whispered to Mina. "Yuta could never."
Mina giggled.
Todoroki, from his seat, finally spoke.
"…Teleportation?" he mused softly.
Everyone blinked.
Todoroki nodded to himself. "If he vanished instantly without sound… maybe."
Then he shrugged.
"Or maybe he ran."
And just as quickly as interest arrived, Todoroki stopped caring.
"Hmm. Maybe we should go see him. What do you think?"
"No way!"
Class resumed its chatter.
The free period wound down, and soon Aizawa called them for practical lessons.
Life moved on.
At least for them.
---
[TRAINING FIELD C — LATER THAT DAY]
Yuta crouched in a quiet corner of the training field, hood up, eyes narrowed.
He activated his Sharingan.
Bright red tomoe spun to life.
In his notebook lay the fruits of yesterday's frantic efforts:
Rough chakra flow sketches
Failed ratios
Notes like "This is wrong. Why is this wrong?"
And now underlined multiple times:
USE. THE. SHARINGAN. YOU. CLOWN.
He reviewed the hand seals.
He tried again.
Chakra surged.
It fizzled.
He adjusted the ratio.
It sputtered.
He corrected the molding.
It twisted the wrong way.
He corrected that correction.
It backfired into his shoulder.
"…Ow."
He kept going.
He used the Sharingan to trace every micro-flow through his chakra network.
He scribbled new ratios.
New formulas.
New diagrams.
By sunset, his notes had evolved from simple sketches to fully mapped anatomical chakra channels:
Branching lines for tenketsu.
Flow arrows.
Ratios labeled with decimals.
Attempts at conversion theory.
It looked like a mad scientist's dissertation.
He went home afterward — mentally broken, fingers cramped, eyes throbbing — and pushed open the front door.
The smell of stew hit him first.
Then his mom's voice floated from the kitchen, sharp as ever.
"Wash your hands before you touch anything!"
He blinked. "…I just walked in."
"That counts as touching things."
Right. Of course it did.
Eri peeked from behind the hallway corner, clutching a pencil and a half-finished homework sheet.
"Welcome back," she said quietly.
The tension in his shoulders eased a little. "Hey. You doing okay?"
She nodded. "Your mom helped me with math. I don't like math."
There was silence for a moment. Eventually, Yuta's lips twitched upward into a smile.
"Welcome to the force kid."
From the kitchen:
"I heard that!"
He made a face at Eri. The girl just lowered her head.
Dinner was already set aside for him — a plate covered with foil, like always. She didn't say she worried. She didn't have to. It was built into the plate.
He ate quietly while Eri drew beside him, legs kicking under the chair. His mom moved around the kitchen with the familiar efficiency of someone who both cared deeply and refused to admit it out loud.
No big talks.
No lectures.
Just life continuing around him.
He went to bed afterward, — slept, woke up, and resumed during breaks the next day.
Hand seals.
Sharingan.
Correction.
Ratio adjustment.
Flow refinement.
Hours passed.
Attempts piled.
Dozens.
Maybe a hundred.
And eventually—
He ran out of chakra.
"Oh come on."
---
[TRAINING FIELD C — NEXT AFTERNOON]
Yuta exhaled slowly.
Sharingan active.
Hands steady.
He ran through the seals again.
His chakra aligned.
Flowed.
Condensed.
Shifted into an earth-nature blend he had never felt before.
For the first time—
It stabilized.
His eyes widened.
'This is it.'
He slammed his palm onto the ground.
"Earth Style: Flowing Mud Wall!"
A rumble.
The ground shuddered.
And a thick, sturdy, muddy earth wall erupted upward, solid and stable, towering over him.
Silence.
Wind rustled the grass.
Yuta blinked up at the wall.
He didn't move.
He didn't breathe.
And then—
"…YES!"
His voice cracked into the sky as he punched the air.
"I DID IT! FINALLY—FINALLY!"
He grabbed his notebook, holding it up like a sacred artifact.
"YOU HEAR THAT? I'M NOT AN IDIOT ANYMORE!"
A passing 1-B student stared.
Yuta didn't care.
For the first time since arriving at U.A., since fighting Overhaul, since being grounded, since smashing Toru with school equipment—
He had made actual progress.
Real jutsu.
The first of many. The fact that it was an earth style Jutsu not of his natural affinity had been surprising. He had tried the same 100 plus sequences with the first four nature transformations that came to mind.
Luckily
'HA!'
He grinned up at the wall.
"Okay. That's one."
He tightened his fists.
"Let's see what else I can do."
Yuta stepped back from the wall, still buzzing with adrenaline.
His chakra reserves didn't feel great, but he had just performed an Earth Style Jutsu outside his natural affinity.
He wanted—needed—to ride that momentum.
'Alright… next.'
He flipped through his notes, the messy pages filled with half-successful attempts at other ninjutsu.
One heading was circled, underlined, and aggressively stabbed with pen marks:
SHADOW CLONE?
(Probably impossible? Try anyway.)
Yuta inhaled.
"…Okay. One crazy idea per day can't hurt."
He stood in the clearing again, hands forming the familiar seal.
He gathered chakra—
It wobbled.
He stabilized it.
Then he tried to split it.
It cracked like glass.
"Too heavy," he muttered. "Too much chakra at once. Okay. Smaller ratio."
He adjusted, compressing it tighter in his core.
Deep breath.
Seal.
Chakra surged—
split—
twisted—
Poof.
Smoke burst around him.
When it cleared—
Yuta froze.
Standing a few feet away, looking equally horrified and equally him—
Was him.
"…Um," Yuta said.
"…Um," the clone echoed.
They stared for three long, silent seconds.
Then, in perfect synchronization:
"…Huh?"
Yuta blinked rapidly, pointing at the clone. "I—I actually pulled it off?"
The clone pointed back. "Did we actually pull it off?"
They both turned in the same direction, nodding in disbelief.
"This is… insane," Yuta whispered, eyes widening in awe.
The clone took a hesitant step forward—
and immediately tripped.
Face-first.
Into the dirt.
Yuta flinched. "Oof—that looked like it hurt."
The clone's voice rose from the ground. "I FELT THAT. WHY DID I FEEL THAT?!"
Yuta rubbed his temples. "Because we're doing this wrong."
The clone rolled onto its back. "Okay. New rule. Don't make me walk yet."
"Noted."
They sat in awkward silence for a beat.
"So… what now?" the clone asked.
Yuta sighed. "…Honestly? I have absolutely no idea."
---
Enjoying the story? Want to read ahead?
Support the novel and unlock early access to unreleased chapters by joining my Patreon!
💧 WATER TIER (5$) – Read 3 chapters ahead of public releases
🌍 EARTH TIER ($7) – Read 5 chapters ahead, with bonus lore, author notes, and behind-the-scenes content
🔥 FIRE TIER ($10) – Read 8 chapters ahead, get full access to all extras, and vote in exclusive polls for bonus content
📎 Patreon.com/Future805
Even a small pledge makes a huge difference — thank you for reading