Niko breathed in and out as he took his place at the starting line. In the long distance run, Iida managed the fastest time so far, something Bakugou was salty about, but after a promise for a rematch race he ultimately fell quiet about it. Niko was last, probably being singled out by Aizawa to make the other students more aware of him.
Aizawa wasn't technically forbidden from making Niko's past known, after all.
Still, Niko was going to give this hero thing all he had, much like these tests. Aizawa did say to go all out, after all. Niko took his position, leaning forward slightly, with his hands folded across his chest.
Bakugou scoffed in the crowd. "What's with that? Is he not taking this seriously?"
Before anyone could respond, a ripple spread through the air, starting at Niko's back and stopping a few feet before it would have crashed into the watching students. The distortion looked like heat haze on pavement, except tighter, denser, lioke compressed air forced outward in a sudden pulse. Niko was launched forward instantly, the ground vanishing beneath him as the first shock wave hurled him several meters ahead. Another ripple appeared beneath his feet just before he touched down, kicking him back into the air before his weight could settle, followed immediately by another burst at his back that shoved him even farther down the track.
By the time the rest of the class realized what they were watching, Niko had already cleared the first lap.
The final stretch ended almost before the crowd could process it. One last pulse burst behind his back, sending him gliding across the finish line with barely a sound beyond the faint pop of displaced air. He landed lightly, unfolded his arms, and straightened as if the entire thing had been little more than a brisk jog.
The timer beeped.
Long Distance Run Results
Niko: 58.41 seconds
Iida: 1:17.8
Bakugou: 1:22.5
Aizaway makes a small noise and writes the times down, leading the students through each test, and through each one, save for the repeated side steps, Niko dominated each test, taking first place with a faint ripple of the air. He never looked particularly strained either, which only made the results more unsettling for the others. A few students tried to keep competing normally, but most had gradually shifted their attention toward watching him instead.
Aizawa eventually called the class over for the softball throw. He explained the rules quickly and handed the ball to the next student in line: Izuku Midoriya. The green-haired boy stepped forward stiffly, clearly nervous, clutching the ball like it might explode in his hand. Niko watched from the side with his arms folded across his chest, head slightly tilted. He had been observing the class throughout the tests, and Midoriya stood out for a different reason than most. The kid had no visible quirk output during any of the previous events, yet Aizawa had let him continue participating. That meant something was being held back.
Midoriya wound up and threw, though it only landed a small distance away. The camera displayed forty-six meters.
Niko frowned, looking at Aizawa, seeing his red eyes and his floating hair. As the rest of the group were positioned farther away from the throwing circle, no one could quite hear what was being said between the two. But Niko wasn't paying attention to their words anyway.
No, he saw the red eyes and floating hair and knew who the man was. His guardian during his tenure here at U.A. High. The man was chosen very specifically because his quirk cancels out other's. Niko will have to disabuse him of that notion.
"What's going on over there?" Asked one girl. Well, really she was pretty much just a floating uniform, but the form was feminine, so Niko had no choice but to assume.
"Sensei erased his quirk. Though, I don't know why..."
"Eh?! He can do that?"
"Probably the only person who can. ...Oh, I'm Niko. No last name."
The floating set of clothes made such a cutesy pose. "Hagakura Tooru! Nice to meet you, Niko. Say, you're pretty strong huh?"
Niko chuckled. "Let's just say I've had plenty of experience in using my Quirk."
"Yeah? Your accent sounds Russian, so I'm guessing the laws there are a bit more lax than in Japan?"
"Something like that."
"Also, your tattoo's are kinda intense. Almost lik-"
The thoughts were cut off as a loud boom rang out, the ground rumbling as Midoriya throws the ball.
Midoriya's voice rings out. "What do you think, Sensei? I can still move!"
Aizawa grins, the corner of his mouth lifting as Midoriya stands there clutching his ruined finger, still shaking but refusing to collapse. The teacher looks almost satisfied, like the point of the exercise had finally been proven. "Now that's rational," he says calmly, lowering the device slightly as Midoriya pants for breath. "You demonstrated the possibility of growth. As long as you can produce results like that, you're not completely hopeless."
The moment hangs for barely a second before it shatters.
"DON'T SCREW WITH ME, DEKU!"
Bakugou explodes forward from the crowd, fury written plainly across his face as he barrels toward the throwing circle. His palms are already beginning to sweat, tiny crackles popping from his skin as the nitroglycerin-like fluid forms along his hands. The class startles, several students stepping back instinctively as Bakugou raises one arm to blast himself forward.
The explosion never comes.
A faint ripple passes through the air around Bakugou's hand, so subtle most of the class doesn't even notice it. There's no visible force, no dramatic shockwave like the ones Niko used during the run. Just a slight shimmer, like heat rising off asphalt.
Bakugou's palm stays silent.
For a split second he looks confused. He snaps his fingers, trying to trigger the ignition again. Nothing happens. The sweat on his palm has vanished as quickly as it formed, evaporated by a tightly focused vibration that heats the thin layer of liquid faster than it can accumulate.
Across the field, Niko lowers his hand from where he had lazily flicked two fingers in Bakugou's direction.
Bakugou tries again, more aggressively this time. His hand pops weakly giving nothing more than just a pathetic sputter of air.
Another ripple flickers around his palm.
The moisture disappears again.
Bakugou freezes, staring at his own hand like it's betrayed him.
Behind him, Aizawa's eyes shift slowly toward Niko. His hair is still floating from his quirk activation, but the teacher doesn't say a word. He simply watches.
Niko meets his gaze without moving from where he stands beside Hagakure, arms folded loosely across his chest again.
Meanwhile Bakugou finally wheels around, teeth grinding as realization starts to creep in. "You..." he snarls, pointing straight at Niko. "You did something, didn't you?!"
Niko tilts his head slightly, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Your quirk relies on sweat," he replies evenly. "Explosive sweat, yes, but still sweat. Liquids respond very well to vibration. Heat them enough and they evaporate before they can accumulate."
Bakugou's eye twitches.
"So every time your palms start producing it…" Niko finishes calmly, "…I remove the fuel."
For a moment the field is completely silent.
Then several students glance between Bakugou's smoking-but-not-exploding hand and Niko with slowly dawning horror.
Because they all understand the implication at the same time.
If Niko can selectively vibrate something as small as sweat on someone else's skin from across the field… then he has been holding back far more control than anyone realized.
"Now," Niko says as he approaches. "If you are done with your little bitch fit, I'd like to establish the pecking order."
Niko is the one to bump Bakugo's shoulder this time, grinning broadly as he approaches Aizawa.
Bakugou bristles as Niko bumps his shoulder on the way past, the blond boy's teeth grinding audibly, but something in Aizawa's expression stops him from immediately lashing out again. The teacher's eyes flick once between the two of them before he wordlessly holds the softball out. Niko takes it without hesitation, the small rubber ball disappearing easily into his palm. For a moment he simply weighs it there, gaze drifting upward toward the open sky above the training field. The earlier tests had been quick, controlled displays meant to finish the assignment and nothing more, but Aizawa had told them to go all out. Niko rolls his shoulder once as he steps into the throwing circle, exhaling slowly through his nose as if settling into a rhythm only he can hear.
At first, nothing seems to happen. Niko's stance lowers slightly, his fingers tightening around the ball while a faint distortion begins to gather around him. It looks similar to what the class had already seen during the running test, the air wavering like heat rising from sun-baked pavement, but this time it does not fade after a single pulse. The distortion thickens instead, compressing closer and closer around Niko's body. A few students glance at one another uneasily as the sensation spreads outward across the field. It's not wind, not pressure exactly, but something that makes the air feel strangely heavy in the lungs. Niko draws his arm back, the motion unhurried, and for the briefest instant the entire field falls completely silent.
Then he throws.
The sound that follows is less like a pitch and more like thunder cracking overhead. The ground shudders underfoot as a violent shockwave erupts outward from the circle, kicking up dust and sending several students stumbling back a step as the air itself seems to split apart. For a fraction of a second the softball is visible streaking upward across the sky like a white spark. Then it becomes a dot. Then it vanishes entirely.
Aizawa's tracking device begins climbing so quickly the numbers blur together.
The display races past the distances recorded earlier in the test, continuing to rise long after the ball has disappeared from sight. Meters turn to kilometers, the counter still climbing while the class watches in stunned silence. Eventually the signal flickers, struggling to keep contact with something that is clearly far beyond the range the system was built to measure.
Then the screen abruptly freezes.
∞
For several seconds no one says anything. Dust settles slowly back onto the field while the echo of the shockwave fades into the distance. Niko lowers his arm and flexes his fingers once before stepping calmly out of the throwing circle as though the entire thing had been routine. Aizawa studies the device for another moment before writing something down on his clipboard anyway, his expression giving nothing away.
Behind Niko, the rest of Class 1-A stares up into the empty sky where the ball had disappeared, the implication settling over them one by one.
Eventually, Kaminari speaks up. "Dude... What the hell is your quirk?"