ShuraZero
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Chapter 123: The Calm Before the Hell
🕑 Added 2025-10-05 18:13:06 +0000 UTCKirishima's extremely loud laughter was still echoing in the clearing when Mandalay cleared her throat, her voice cutting through the festive atmosphere. The students fell silent, their smiles fading slightly under the professional hero's gaze.
"Fifty one minutes," she repeated, her gaze fixed on the stopwatch on her wrist. "This was supposed to be an exhausting three hour exercise to teach you a lesson about endurance and the smart use of your Quirks in a hostile environment."
Pixie-Bob, who had been watching everything with her arms crossed and a feline smile, leaned forward, her enthusiasm barely contained.
"Instead, you turned it into a demolition derby! It was a slaughter! I love it! You've got guts, kittens!"
"Pixie-Bob, don't encourage them," Mandalay scolded her with a tired sigh. "Look, get your things from the bus. You'll find your names on your bedroom doors, boys to the right, girls to the left. Drop off your bags, wash your hands, and meet in the dining hall in fifteen minutes. Dinner is almost ready."
"And you'd better be hungry!" Ragdoll added, jumping on the spot. "We've prepared a feast to recharge your batteries! Because tomorrow, the real hell begins!"
A collective groan went through the students.
"The real hell?" Kaminari complained, collapsing dramatically. "What was that, then? The appetizer to hell?"
"Consider this the tutorial," Aizawa's dry, emotionless voice came from the lodge entrance, where he had been watching silently, wrapped in his bandages. "You got carried away by the competition and wasted energy recklessly. Bakugo, Todoroki, your display of power was impressive, but tactically stupid. You ran in a straight line, attracting every beast within a kilometer radius. If this had been a real mission, you would have endangered the entire team."
Bakugo turned to argue, his mouth already open to unleash a string of insults, but Aizawa's glare stopped him. It was a flat, red, and deadly serious look that promised swift and efficient punishment. He just grunted and looked away, clenching his fists.
"The rest of you aren't much better," Aizawa continued, his gaze sweeping over the class. "You let yourselves get dragged along by the momentum. The only exception was Midoriya's team, which used their brains instead of brute force. Learn from that. Now, do as Mandalay said. Don't make me wait."
With that grim note, the energy of victory dissipated, replaced by the familiar weight of U.A.'s reality. The students moved with a new urgency, grabbing their bags and heading to the lodge. The interior was rustic and cozy, built entirely of dark wood. Bustling sounds filled the hallways as the teenagers found their rooms, the sound of doors opening and bags dropping onto the wooden floor echoing throughout the building.
Fifteen minutes later, the dining hall was full of life. Long wooden tables and benches took up most of the space, and the air was thick with the delicious aroma of fresh curry and rice. The students, now in more comfortable clothes, swarmed around the serving counter, filling their plates with a voracious energy.
The tables filled up almost instinctively. Groups of friends sat together, conversations erupting everywhere, a hum of overlapping voices. But at one table, near the center of the room, a strange and silent anomaly formed.
Bakugo had sat at the end of a bench, attacking his food fiercely. He hadn't chosen the table for any particular reason; it was just the closest one. A moment later, Todoroki sat at the opposite end of the same table, on the other side. They didn't look at each other. They simply existed in the same space.
Eijiro Kirishima, either oblivious or perhaps defiant of the tension, slid onto the bench next to Bakugo with a carefree smile.
"Man, that was insane, huh? I'm still totally pumped! My clash with Tetsutetsu was super manly. I think I won, but he won't admit it."
Bakugo just grunted, stabbing a piece of meat with his fork.
On the other side, Hanta Sero and Denki Kaminari sat across from Todoroki, though at a safe distance.
"Todoroki, that ice ramp you made was awesome," Sero said, trying to sound casual. "Did you come up with it on the spot, or had you practiced it?"
Todoroki took a moment before answering, swallowing a mouthful of rice.
"It was the fastest way forward."
His reply was so short and direct that the conversation died before it could start. Kaminari sighed.
"What a buzzkill."
Kirishima, however, wasn't giving up. He turned to the two opposite poles of the table.
"Seriously, how did you guys do it? It looked like a real race out there. You were tearing through those things like it was nothing. How many did you each take down?"
"I took down more," Bakugo muttered without looking up from his plate.
"I immobilized more," Todoroki replied coolly. "It's more efficient."
"Freezing isn't the same as destroying, you half-and-half bastard!"
"It's better. It saves energy and achieves the same result."
"Shut up! My explosions are the most efficient thing there is!"
Kirishima held up his hands in surrender, though he was still smiling.
"Okay, okay, you're both amazing. But it was Midoriya's kickoff that really got us all moving, don't you think?"
The mention of Izuku intensified the tension. Bakugo gripped his fork so tightly that the metal began to bend. Todoroki stopped eating for a second, his gaze fixed on a grain of rice. The silence that followed was louder than the earlier shouts. The two prodigies of the class, linked by an unspoken rivalry, now shared a new and bewildering obstacle in common. And neither of them knew what to do about it.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the dining hall, said obstacle was being besieged.
"Dude, seriously, how did you do that?"
Kaminari, having abandoned the table of tension, had leaned on the back of Izuku's bench, with Sero and Mina Ashido at his side.
"Yeah! The wall thing!" Mina exclaimed, gesturing with her hands. "You ran up it! Literally! That's not something you learn at the gym! Is it a new application of your Quirk?"
Izuku nearly choked on his water. He wiped his mouth, keeping his expression as neutral as he could.
"No, no. Nothing like that. It's just... well, physical training."
"Physical training?" Sero repeated, skeptical. "I've seen people in good shape, Midoriya. None of them defy gravity. You looked like a video game character."
"It's a very advanced parkour technique," Momo, who was sitting across from him, suddenly intervened. She spoke with the calm and authority of a textbook. "It's called a 'wall run.' It requires a precise approach speed and explosive leg strength to convert horizontal momentum into vertical momentum for a fraction of a second. It's extremely difficult and requires months, if not years, of practice."
Kaminari, Sero, and Mina stared at her, blinking.
"Oh. Well. That... makes sense, I guess," Kaminari said, though his face said he hadn't understood half of it.
"And the speed?" Sero pressed. "You looked like a green bullet."
"Cardio," Izuku said, shrugging and putting a spoonful of curry in his mouth to avoid saying more. "Lots and lots of cardio."
"But what about when you destroyed that beast?" Mina insisted. "It was like a punch, but without touching it! Boom! Smashed to bits!"
Ochako, sitting next to Izuku, let out a small laugh.
"Mina-chan, didn't you see his matches in the sports festival? Izuku-kun has always been this strong. He's just getting better, like all of us."
Ochako's answer, so simple and logical, seemed to satisfy them, at least for the moment. The idea that Midoriya, the kid who used to break his bones, had simply gotten so good through training was easier to accept than some strange, secret ability.
"I guess so..." Kaminari said, scratching the back of his neck. "Damn. I need to step up my game. If you can do that with just cardio, I should be able to not fry my own brain every time I get serious."
With that, the trio walked away, probably in search of a less confusing conversation. Izuku let out a sigh of relief he didn't know he was holding. He looked at Momo and Ochako with gratitude.
"Thanks. You saved me."
"No problem," Momo said with a small smile. "Although my explanation wasn't a complete lie. The foundation of your movements does resemble those techniques. You just execute them at a superhuman level."
"And mine wasn't a lie either," Ochako added, giving him a friendly nudge. "You really are improving a lot."
At their table, the atmosphere was a world away from the rest of the dining hall. It was an oasis of calm and familiarity. Inko, sitting between Toru and Ochako, served them more vegetables from the common bowl, ignoring their protests.
"You have to eat well, girls. You need to replenish your vitamins after so much effort. Ochako-chan, eat a little more, you look so thin."
"Yes, Mrs. Midoriya!" Toru's cheerful voice replied. "Although I think you've already given me more broccoli than can fit on my plate!"
The conversation flowed easily. They talked about the rooms, how comfortable the Japanese-style beds were, and who snored the loudest. Toru was convinced it would be Mina. Momo and Ochako began to theorize about the next day's tests.
"Aizawa-sensei said we got carried away by the competition," Momo said thoughtfully. "Tomorrow's training will likely be designed to counteract that. Maybe stealth exercises or team rescue missions where brute force is useless."
"Or something to improve our Quirks," Ochako suggested. "They always do that at training camps. Specific workouts to take our powers to the next level. I wonder what they have planned for me. Maybe making heavier things float..."
"Or keeping them floating for longer without getting dizzy," Izuku added. "Control and endurance are just as important as raw power."
Inko watched them all, a warm, genuine smile on her face. Months ago, the idea of seeing her son in a place like this, surrounded by potential dangers, would have filled her with paralyzing panic. Now, seeing the way he interacted with his team, the confidence in his voice, the way they supported each other... she felt a calm she hadn't experienced in years. It wasn't just her son's team. They were a small, strange family. And she, somehow, was a part of it.
Dinner ended and the students began to disperse, some heading to the lodge's hot springs, others directly to their rooms, exhausted. The noise emptied from the dining hall, leaving only the echo of conversations.
Izuku excused himself from his table, feeling the need for some fresh air. He stepped out onto the wooden deck that wrapped around the lodge. The night was cool and clear. The sky, far from the city's light pollution, was a blanket of ink dotted with thousands of stars. The only sound was the chirping of crickets and the whisper of the wind through the trees of the Magical Beast Forest.
He rested his hands on the wooden railing, taking a deep breath. The day had been a success. His display of power had had the desired effect: he had set a new benchmark, motivating his classmates and, most importantly, diverting attention from the true nature of his growth. He was no longer the kid who broke his bones. Now he was the kid who trained very, very hard. It was a perfect cover. But still, the weight of his secrets, of One For All, of his ability to empower others, of his deal with Toga, sometimes felt overwhelming.
"Izuku?"
His mother's soft voice pulled him from his thoughts. He turned and saw her stepping onto the deck, a shawl over her shoulders to ward off the cold. She walked over and leaned on the railing beside him.
They didn't speak for a minute, simply watching the darkness of the forest. The silence between them was comfortable, familiar. But Inko wasn't just there to keep him company.
"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
It wasn't the question of a worried mother. There was no tremor in her voice, no trace of the anxiety that had defined her for so long. It was a direct question, from one equal to another. From an ally.
Izuku looked at her. He saw the strength in her eyes, the calm on her face. He saw the woman who had overcome her own depression, who had faced her fears, and who was now here, in the middle of nowhere, ready to face whatever came for him.
A wave of affection and gratitude washed over him, so intense it brought a lump to his throat. He said nothing. Instead, he reached out and wrapped her in a strong, firm hug. He rested his chin on the top of her head, inhaling the familiar scent of her hair.
"Yeah," he finally answered, his voice a bit choked up. "I'm okay."
They stood like that for a moment, under the blanket of stars.
"I know you're trying so hard," she said quietly, her face pressed against his chest. "Not just physically. I can see it in your eyes. You're carrying so much weight on your shoulders, Izuku."
He held her a little tighter.
"It's not as heavy as it used to be."
He pulled back slightly, just enough to look her in the eyes. A small smile formed on his lips.
"Because I'm not alone. I have you. I have the team."
Inko's expression softened, her eyes shining with pride and love. She caressed his cheek with one hand.
"You'll always have me."
Izuku leaned in and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek.
"I love you, Mom."
"And I love you, my boy."
The tranquility of that moment, the simple and pure connection between mother and son, was a reminder of why he fought and what he was protecting. It was all that mattered.
High on the hill overlooking the lodge, in a small wooden lookout post, Tomoko Shiretoko, better known as the hero Ragdoll, yawned as she stretched. Her huge yellow eyes scanned the vast, dark sea of trees stretching out below her.
Her Quirk, Search, was active. It was a passive ability for her, as natural as breathing. She could identify and track up to one hundred people at a time; their locations and weak points manifesting in her mind as a precise map.
At that moment, her map was full. Several blue dots were moving inside the lodge. Inko was a civilian dot, a soft green color. Four other orange dots (her fellow Pussycats) were at their designated posts around the camp's perimeter. The rest of the forest was dark, dotted only by the occasional movement of nocturnal wildlife, small gray specks that flickered and moved among the trees.
It was a quiet night. Boring, even. Ragdoll hummed a cheerful tune to herself, tapping her feet to the rhythm. The night breeze was pleasant, and the view of the stars was first class.
Then, something changed.
An anomaly at the edge of her perception, at the very limit of her five-kilometer range.
There were several dots. At first, they were faint and hard to focus on.
Purple. A dark, sickly purple.
Her humming stopped cold. Her cheerful, carefree expression was wiped away, replaced by a mask of intense concentration. She narrowed her eyes, pushing her Quirk, trying to get more information. Weak points, Quirks, anything.
But she got nothing. The purple dots were blank. They were presences, moving deliberately through the forest, but her Quirk couldn't read anything else about them. She didn't know who they were. She didn't know what they could do.
She only knew one thing.
They weren't students. They weren't animals. And they were moving toward the camp.
The cool night air suddenly felt freezing. The smile that almost always graced her face had completely vanished, replaced by a hard, grim line. Slowly, without taking her mental focus off the forest, her trembling hand rose to the communicator in her ear.
