ShuraZero
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Chapter 30: The First Lesson: Surviving the Committee
🕑 Added 2025-10-02 14:31:13 +0000 UTC"How much longer is the plant girl going to be?"
Mirko's voice was an impatient growl that echoed off the pristine white walls of the observation room. She was sitting on the edge of a table, bouncing one leg with enough energy to threaten the linoleum floor.
"I still think this is a bad choice. We should be hitting things, not waiting around to do some gardening. A couple of weeks at my agency and this kid would be ripping trees out by the roots to use as clubs. Now that's 'unique potential'."
Nemuri, lounging in a comfortable designer armchair with one leg crossed over the other, didn't even look up from her tablet.
"Patience, Rumi. Not every problem can be solved with a flying kick. Besides, you were the one who insisted on being part of this… supervisory committee."
"Of course I insisted!" Mirko shot back, jabbing a thumb toward the center of the room. "I wasn't going to let you two turn the kid into some weird lab rat. He needs to see how things are really done."
The training room Izuku had reserved at U.A. was a modern, brightly lit space with a huge window overlooking a state of the art indoor gym. But right now, the atmosphere inside was thick with the tension of four very different personalities, all waiting for a single person.
Yu stood very close to Izuku in a barely disguised show of possessiveness. With a gesture that was meant to be motherly but was purely territorial, she fixed the collar of the U.A. gym uniform shirt he had been loaned. The boy didn't even flinch, completely absorbed in the tablet he was holding.
"Izuku, remember to be professional," she whispered, her voice a warning. "We want her to feel comfortable, not run away screaming five minutes in. Be nice, introduce yourself calmly, and please, don't start muttering about the combat applications of photosynthesis."
The subtext was as clear as glass: "Don't be yourself with her."
Nemuri finally lowered her tablet, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.
"Relax, Yu chan. It's just an introduction. Try not to mark your territory so obviously. It's a little desperate, even for you. Besides, if the kid wants to talk about photosynthesis, let him. At least it's a conversation."
Yu straightened up, shooting her a frosty glare.
"I am not marking any territory. I am simply concerned for Izuku's well being and the success of this program. Someone has to be the responsible adult here."
Mirko snorted.
"And that's definitely not you, Midnight."
"I've never pretended to be," Nemuri purred, delighted by the friction.
Izuku, as usual, seemed completely oblivious to the emotional minefield surrounding him. He stood in the middle of the room, reviewing the notes he had prepared for the first session for the tenth time. He slid a finger across the screen, his lips moving silently. He didn't hear Mirko's impatience, Yu's anxiety, or Nemuri's teasing. He only heard the buzz of his own purpose.
The door to the room opened with a soft hiss.
Ibara Shiozaki entered with a shyness that seemed to contradict the vital force of her extraordinary hair. She wore the standard U.A. gym uniform, and her back was so straight it looked like it could snap. Her expression was formal, controlled, but her green eyes betrayed a deep nervousness.
The email had been vague. A "special extracurricular mentorship program" supervised by the hero Midnight. She had expected to face a panel of intimidating teachers. She had not expected this.
Her gaze swept the room, her panic rising with each face she recognized. Midnight, the R Rated hero, watched her with an amused smile that did nothing to calm her. Mirko, the number five hero, the Rabbit, stared at her with predatory impatience, as if sizing her up to see if she was prey worth her time. Mt. Lady, the most popular rookie of the moment, stood with a strange stiffness, her smile forced and tight. She felt completely out of place, intimidated by the presence of three of the most imposing heroes in the country.
"What am I doing here?" she thought. "This must be a mistake. They must have the wrong student. Maybe they were looking for another girl with vines…."
And then her eyes fell on the figure standing in the center of the group. The green haired boy with the serious eyes. The kind boy from the park.
She recognized him instantly.
The relief hit her with such overwhelming force it almost made her stagger. The tension in her shoulders vanished. The fear in her heart was replaced by a pure, warm joy. Her face, once tense and formal, lit up with a smile so genuine and radiant it seemed to make the room a little brighter.
"Midoriya san!" she exclaimed, her voice full of a relief that surprised everyone present. "It's you! The email… it said a special program, but I never imagined you would be…!"
The chemistry between them was instant and obvious. Izuku looked up from his tablet and returned her smile.
"Hello, Shiozaki san. I'm glad to see you," he said, his voice calm and welcoming. "We were waiting for you. Please, come in. I'll be your coach."
The ease between them, the sincere connection that vibrated in the air, cut through the room's tension like a knife.
The "committee's" reactions were immediate and varied.
Yu's brow furrowed, just slightly, but enough to notice the shadow of her displeasure. Nemuri glanced at her sideways and let out an almost inaudible, "Well, well…" that made Yu's jaw tighten even more.
Mirko raised an eyebrow, her impatience replaced by sudden intrigue. She crossed her arms over her chest.
"Hmph. So they already know each other. This is… unexpected."
And Nemuri smiled, a smile of pure delight. Oh, yes. This was going to be much more interesting than she had thought.
"Welcome, Shiozaki san," Nemuri said, rising from her armchair and assuming her role as official supervisor. "As you were informed, you have been selected for a pilot program designed to cultivate Quirks with unique potential. Young Midoriya here will be your primary coach, under the supervision of the three of us. Consider this a unique opportunity."
Ibara gave a deep bow.
"I am deeply grateful for this blessing. I promise to do my best and not disappoint you."
"Excellent," Nemuri said, returning to her seat. "Izuku kun, she's all yours."
Izuku nodded, his face turning professional. He took a step forward, his attention focused entirely on Ibara. The rest of the world, including the three pro heroes watching him, seemed to fade away.
"Thank you, Midnight sensei. Shiozaki san, before we begin with any physical or Quirk exercises, I need to perform a baseline assessment."
"Of course, Midoriya san," she replied, steadying herself. "What do you need me to do? Should I grow my vines? Test their strength or maximum length?"
"No," Izuku said, and his answer surprised her. "Nothing like that yet. First, I need to observe."
And with that, he began to walk slowly around her, in circles. His eyes scanned her from head to toe, his gaze so intense and analytical that Ibara felt a new kind of nervousness. It wasn't fear. It was the feeling of being seen, of being read, in a way she had never experienced before. She felt as if he wasn't looking at her body, but directly at her Quirk, as if he could see its inner workings.
He stopped behind her. The silence stretched. Ibara could feel the stares of the three heroes fixed on her back. She held her breath, not knowing what to expect.
And then, without asking permission, without a single word of warning, he took one of the long, thick vines of her hair. Ibara started at the unexpected contact, a small jolt running through her. He gently rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger, testing its texture, its weight, and its flexibility, his expression completely absorbed in the tactile sensation.
"Fascinating," he murmured, loud enough for everyone in the silent room to hear. "The texture is robust, yet surprisingly soft to the touch. Almost silky. The cuticle of each fiber is incredibly uniform. Does it require any kind of special conditioner to prevent split ends or dehydration from sun exposure? The follicle health appears to be excellent."
The statement, so clinical and yet so strangely intimate, set off a chain reaction.
Ibara blushed to the roots of her vine hair. She stammered, completely disarmed by a question she had never been asked in her life.
"Uh… no, sir. Sunlight and blessings from above are usually sufficient, Midoriya san. Sometimes a little water…"
From across the room, Yu covered her face with her hands and let out a choked groan.
"And here we go… Nemuri, I swear if you don't stop him…"
Mirko, however, let out a short, explosive laugh, a sharp and genuine sound.
"Ha! The kid and his fixations! Always gets straight to the point, I love it! Ask her about soil composition, kid! That's gotta matter!"
Nemuri simply observed the scene with the clinical interest of a nature documentarian, a small smile playing on her lips. She wasn't going to intervene. This was far more educational than any training manual.
Izuku completely ignored the reactions, his concentration still fixed on the vine he was holding. He released it carefully, as if handling a delicate artifact, and moved to stand in front of Ibara again.
"Alright. Initial tactile assessment complete," he declared, as if that were a normal part of any first day of training. He turned back to Ibara, his tone becoming more serious. "Now, the real first lesson. I explained my theory in the park about how my Quirk works, remember?"
Ibara nodded, still a little dazed, trying to regain her composure.
"Yes… The… Trust Equation."
"Exactly. My power works best when you trust me, Shiozaki san. If you put up barriers, if you doubt my intentions or my methods, my ability to help you is limited. So our first lesson won't be about strength or speed or combat strategy. It will be about creating that connection. About breaking down those barriers."
His seriousness was so absolute, his purpose so clear, that Ibara found herself nodding again, completely captivated by his focus. All the nervousness she had felt because of the heroes dissipated, replaced by the concentration he was projecting.
"I understand. What should I do?"
"I want you to sit on the floor, in the center of the room, in a lotus position. And I want you to meditate," he instructed her, his voice that of a calm guide. "Clear your mind. Focus on your breathing. Don't think about us, or the training, or anything. Just the air entering and leaving your lungs. And I am going to place my hands on your shoulders."
He looked her directly in the eyes, making sure she understood the importance of what came next.
"I won't do anything else. I won't use my Quirk. I won't push you or move you. I just want you to get used to my presence. Your first task is to learn not to put up barriers against me. To accept a neutral point of contact without feeling threatened or analyzed."
Ibara, though surprised by the impractical nature of the exercise, saw the logic in his words. She saw the sincerity in his eyes. There was no hidden agenda, only a clear method and a defined goal. She nodded with quiet determination and walked to the center of the adjoining gym, sitting on the polished floor just as he had instructed. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
But just as Izuku was about to follow her, Yu's falsely casual voice stopped him.
"Wait a moment, Izuku."
He turned, one eyebrow slightly arched.
"Yes?"
"Just out of professional curiosity, of course," Yu said, with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "For the report we have to submit. What is the exact purpose of this… 'initial contact exercise'? What data do you expect to gather that you couldn't get from a simple conversation?"
Izuku, with the complete and utter sincerity that made him so infuriating and so himself, turned to explain to his supervisory committee as if he were presenting a scientific paper.
"It's to establish a neutral baseline," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I need to understand a subject's initial physiological response to a noninvasive point of contact. Every subject is different, and their response to my Quirk varies drastically depending on the initial point of contact, the preexisting relationship, and the muscle and nerve composition of the affected area. It is a matter of calibration."
His gaze moved from Yu to Nemuri and then to Mirko, making a quick comparative analysis out loud, completely unaware of the horror he was about to unleash.
"For example, my first contact with Yu was accidental and in an area… of high density of soft mass and comfort. This likely facilitated a massive but completely uncontrolled power transfer, due to the unforeseen nature of the contact and its proximity to vital organs. With Nemuri san, it was on the back, a professional and relatively neutral point of contact, which resulted in a more subtle and controlled effect."
Mirko leaned forward, now genuinely interested.
"And with me?"
"With Mirko san, it was on the thighs," Izuku continued, pointing to his own thigh for reference. "An area of extremely high muscle power and density of fast twitch fibers. That caused an explosive and direct increase in speed, a very efficient application of power because the receiving system was already optimized for that function."
He paused, and his gaze fell on the figure of Ibara, who was sitting patiently on the floor, meditating, oblivious to the conversation. His expression was one of pure clinical interest, that of a scientist about to test a new variable.
"With Shiozaki san, I have no prior data. Her vines are an extension of her body, but they are not her body. How will she react to neutral contact on the shoulders? Will it be a localized response? Will it extend to her Quirk? I need to understand how a new subject reacts to this controlled stimulus before I can even consider the possibility of moving on to more… specific applications on other areas of the body to optimize her combat performance."
The silence that followed his explanation was thick and heavy with meaning.
Yu was petrified, her face a mask of horror and humiliation at hearing the "zones" of her body discussed as if they were USB ports on a motherboard. Her mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.
Mirko threw her head back and howled with laughter, a sound so loud, genuine, and wild it was probably heard across the entire campus. She slapped her thigh with her palm, unable to contain herself.
Nemuri looked like she had just won the drama lottery. An expression of pure, absolute bliss spread across her face, and she had to bite her lower lip to keep from bursting into laughter and maintain her facade as the "serious supervisor."
And Ibara, the pure and saintly girl with the vines, opened one eye, looking over her shoulder at her strange new coach and his utterly chaotic supervisory committee. She wondered, with a serenity that was beginning to waver dangerously, if she had just made a pact with an analytical genius or with a group of wonderfully weird demons.
"Oh, dear," she thought. "What have I gotten myself into?"
