The massive gates of U.A. loomed before him, a monument of steel and glass gleaming arrogantly under the morning sun. Its scale was so immense that it made the hundreds of prospective students gathered in its courtyard look like ants. The air vibrated with the hum of anticipation—nervous whispers, forced laughter, and tense silence from those too focused on the upcoming exam.
For Fuse, all of that was just background noise. His focus was on a closer sensation: the stiffness locking his fingers.
He raised his right hand in front of his face, looking at it as if it belonged to someone else.
With slow and deliberate movements, he clenched and opened his palm repeatedly.
Each motion was accompanied by a soft 'creak' from his protesting finger joints. The muscles in his forearm felt taut, remnants of the brutal training session he had forced himself through until late at night.
His gaze then swept over the crowd around him, and a thin smile full of knowledge began to form on his lips. This wasn't just a faceless crowd. These were the cast members of a story he already knew!
His eyes caught a flash of spiky blond hair and a permanent angry expression—Katsuki Bakugo. Then, the striking contrast of red and white hair from Shoto Todoroki.
They were exactly as he had seen them on his computer screen.
But now, they seemed as real as himself, and they would become part of his life. Indeed, as side characters!
At that moment, an awkward movement caught his attention. A boy with messy green hair and a freckled face tripped over his own feet, his body lurching forward in panic. Just before his face met the concrete, a brown-haired girl with round cheeks and a bob haircut patted his back. Gravity seemed to release its grip on the boy, and he floated for a moment before the girl stabilized him.
Fuse narrowed his eyes, his brows furrowing slightly.
Izuku Midoriya, he thought, a soft sigh escaping his lips, forming a thin cloud of vapor in the morning air. Why would a protagonist embarrass himself like that? On a day this important? Truly incomprehensible.
He looked away, uncomfortable with someone else's embarrassment. His gaze swept back over the sea of young faces full of hope and nervousness.
In their eyes, he saw ambition, fear, and dreams.
But in his own eyes, he saw something else.
They all are future heroes... His internal monologue began to rumble, pumping strength into his exhausted body. Good! Very good!
His previously slightly hunched posture changed. His back straightened, his spine seeming to elongate inch by inch. His broad shoulders pulled back, his chest puffing out. His chin lifted, and his earlier thin smile widened into a grin full of arrogance and unshakable confidence.
They all will be my stepping stones. The rungs I'll step on in my journey to the top. They will be the background as I, the true main character, become the light that will illuminate this world!
With the fire of ambition blazing inside him, he began walking toward the orientation hall entrance. His steps, which had been heavy, were now steady and purposeful, parting the crowd of other students who instinctively moved out of his way.
When he arrived at the large, closed double wooden doors, he didn't stop to grab the handle.
With a sharp twist of his hips and a powerful swing of his leg, he kicked the door.
His shoe slammed into the wood right beside the metal handle with a loud, deafening BANG.
The door flew open, slamming into the wall behind it with a resounding CRASH!! that echoed throughout the room.
Instantly, the hall, which had been bustling with hundreds of voices, fell into dead silence.
Every head in the room—every aspiring hero sitting neatly in their chairs—turned simultaneously toward the door. Hundreds of pairs of eyes fixed on him, some narrowing in annoyance, others widening in surprise.
Fuse stood at the threshold, framed by the light from the hallway, savoring every second of the attention he had seized. He let the silence hang for a few moments before his smug smile widened, revealing a flash of his white teeth.
With steps resembling an actor on stage, he walked in. He ignored the sharp stares, his own eyes sweeping the rows of seats, searching for one familiar face.
Then he found it.
In the middle row, sitting calmly amid the commotion he had just created, was Fumikage Tokoyami. And even better, the seat next to him was empty.
Fuse walked over, his confident steps echoing on the floor.
When he arrived beside the seat, Tokoyami didn't even turn his head. He just let out a long sigh, a weary sound laden with resignation.
"I had a feeling it would end up like this..." Tokoyami said, his deep and monotonous voice coming from behind his cloak's collar. Dark Shadow, his shadow entity, peeked from his shoulder with blinking yellow eyes. "I didn't want to seem like your acquaintance. But it seems that's no longer possible."
Fuse chuckled softly, a sound too loud in the midst of the silence that was beginning to break into whispers. He slapped Tokoyami's shoulder hard.
"What are you saying, Tokoyami?" he said, his tone full of enthusiasm. "You are the friend of a protagonist. You should be proud!"
Without waiting for a response, he dropped himself into the seat next to him with flair, as if it were a throne. A few people around them were still staring, while others, especially Bakugo, just snorted in annoyance before looking away.
Fuse leaned back comfortably, crossing his arms over his chest while observing the sea of prospective students around him.
"What do you think," he said, his eyes roaming, "how many strong students are here?"
"Countless, surely," Tokoyami replied, his sharp gaze fixed on several individuals radiating clear power—Bakugo vibrating with pent-up energy, Todoroki cold and calm, and a few others.
"Are they stronger than me?" he asked, a playful smile curling on his lips. He himself already knew the answer, or at least, he knew there were many Quirks out there that could be a problem for him.
But admitting that wasn't his style!
"Who knows?" Tokoyami replied, his tone indifferent, refusing to engage in his arrogance game.
Right at that moment, the lights in the hall dimmed, and a bright spotlight illuminated the stage in front. A man suddenly appeared in the center of the light, his appearance so striking it was almost painful to the eyes.
His long blond hair was combed up into a massive pompadour that defied gravity. A thin mustache adorned his upper lip, which was almost always stretched in a wide smile. He wore a black leather jacket with an extremely high collar filled with metal buttons, orange-tinted glasses, and a strange speaker wrapped around his neck.
He was the Voice Hero, Present Mic!
"ALL OF YOU, WELCOME TO MY LIVE EVENT!" his voice exploded from the speaker, filling every corner of the hall. "EVERYBODY SAY HEYYY!!!"
A thick and awkward silence was the only response he received.
Present Mic seemed unfazed and launched straight into his explanation about the practical exam, about the robots and the point system.
As the man on stage spoke enthusiastically, Fuse shifted his sitting position. His back, which had been relaxed, now straightened. He leaned slightly forward, clasping his hands on the table and resting his chin on them. His eyes were fixed on Present Mic, his expression serious and focused, as if every word spoken was the most important revelation in the world.
"In short, defeat as many robots as possible to collect points, right?" he said to Tokoyami.
However, the other party seemed to ignore the question.
Well, actually, I've heard him say this before, he thought, while outwardly wearing the face of the most attentive listener. A thin smile that was barely visible played on his lips. So this is like repeating what I've heard in the previous scene... You could say I'm a time traveler who has returned to the past? Knowing every event in the future and fixing what happened in the past?
He felt a pleasant thrill from the idea.
That kind of story would look interesting. His smile widened slightly.
Tokoyami, sitting next to him, glanced at him from the corner of his eye. Seeing the strangely serious expression and mysterious smile on his friend's face made him feel a bad premonition.
"This is unusual," Tokoyami whispered, his voice low. "You're not interrupting and saying something arrogant while that person is speaking on stage."
Fuse turned his head slowly, his head movement smooth and controlled. His focused expression changed to a calm and slightly condescending gaze.
"What do you really think of me, Fumikage Tokoyami-kun?" he replied, his voice now calm and reasonable, which made it sound even stranger. "Listening to the other party speak until finished is basic courtesy, isn't it?"
Tokoyami fell silent, his eyes widening slightly.
"It's very unusual to hear you say something reasonable like that," Tokoyami finally said.
Without another word, he pushed his chair back and stood up. He began walking away, but before passing the end of the row, he stopped and turned slightly toward Fuse.
"Do your best."
Fuse closed his eyes, a proud and genuine smile now adorning his face.
"You too. Good luck!" he called cheerfully to Tokoyami's retreating back.
After Tokoyami disappeared through the door, Fuse opened his eyes. He stood with efficient and energetic movements, pushing his chair back neatly.
With one last glance at the stage, he turned and walked toward the exit door, ready for the real exam.
…
The massive gates behind him closed with a heavy metallic thud that echoed, locking hundreds of aspiring heroes inside their concrete cage.
In front of Fuse, a scene unfolded that made him stop in his tracks. An odd silence enveloped the area, broken only by the gusts of wind sweeping the empty road and the nervous breaths from the participants around him.
Fuse's body froze. His confident steps halted in the middle of the road. His jaw slackened slightly, his lips parting without sound. His eyes, usually sharp and calculating, now widened, his pupils dilating as he tried to absorb the scale and detail of this extraordinary artificial environment.
His head slowly tilted back, his gaze following the vertical lines of an office building up to its peak gleaming under the sun.
Skyscrapers of steel and glass towered high, their tops seeming to scrape the cloudless blue sky. Wide asphalt roads were adorned with perfect road markings, neat sidewalks, striking red fire hydrants, and street lamps standing at attention.
The scent of fresh concrete, still-new asphalt, and recently dried paint wafted in the air, creating the illusion of a city that had just been born and never touched by life.
Its realism was so total, so absolute, that it felt terrifying.
This wasn't just a training area. This was a city.
A replica of a real-world city!
This was an engineering marvel, a colossal stage built just for their exam.
He swept his gaze around, and a strange recognition pierced him. The faces around him were no longer a group of strangers.
There, with a tense expression, stood Tenya Iida, adjusting his glasses with a stiff motion. Not far from him, Ochaco Uraraka puffed out her cheeks and exhaled to calm herself.
Every face was one he knew, characters he had seen and studied. They were real, breathing, and trapped at this starting point with him.
Suddenly, the silence was torn by an explosive voice from above.
On the roof of one of the tallest buildings, a striking figure stood at the edge, its silhouette contrasting against the sky.
It was Present Mic.
"WHAT'S UP?!" his voice boomed from the speaker around his neck, a sonic wave that made several students jolt in surprise.
"IN A REAL BATTLE, THERE'S NO COUNTDOWN, YOU KNOW! RUN! RUN!!!"
He paused, letting panic begin to creep among the participants.
"CONSIDER THE COIN ALREADY FLIPPED!"
In a fraction of a second, Fuse's moment of awe vanished, replaced by predatory instinct. While most students were still processing the command, his body was already moving. The muscles in his legs tensed like compressed springs and exploded in one motion, propelling him forward with tremendous force.
He shot from a standstill to a full sprint in two steps, his shoes gripping the asphalt as he led the pack into the artificial city.
Glancing back briefly, his gaze caught Izuku Midoriya still frozen at the starting line, his mouth gaping in panic.
A smile curled on Fuse's lips. What kind of protagonist starts late?
At that moment, the scene ahead turned into hell. The building on the side of the road, just a few meters in front of Midoriya, suddenly shook violently. There was the sound of twisted metal groaning and deafening concrete cracks.
Without warning, a large portion of the building's wall exploded outward in a shower of debris and dust.
From inside the newly formed gaping hole, a gigantic mechanical monster emerged. A 1-Point robot, its metallic green and bulky body moving with a creepy joint creak, its single red optic eye glowing, scanning the nearest target:
Midoriya!
At that moment, Fuse stopped abruptly.
His shoes screeched loudly on the asphalt as he braked suddenly, his body leaning back to counter his strong momentum. Dust and small gravel scattered around his feet.
He planted his feet firmly on the ground, his posture now low and alert.
All his attention poured onto the robot that had just appeared.
With calm and unhurried movements, in stark contrast to the chaos around him, his right hand slowly slipped into his jacket pocket. His fingers searched for a moment before closing around a small, round, cold object.
Then, he pulled it out.
In his palm, under the sunlight, a small metal coin gleamed.
At that moment, his right arm raised, bent at the elbow. He positioned the coin between his bent index finger, his thumb placed underneath it, holding it tightly with his thumb bent back, creating tension like a drawn bow.
His eyes narrowed, his pupils contracting as he aimed precisely at one point on the robot's head—the glowing red optic lens.
I'm borrowing your technique, Misaka Mikoto! he muttered inwardly.
CRACK!
His thumb flicked forward with explosive force.
As the coin left his finger, the concentrated magnetic field at the tip of his thumb propelled it, turning it into a deadly projectile.
The coin shot forward, slicing through the air with a sharp tearing sound, leaving a faint golden-orange trail behind it as it spun at hypersonic speed.
Time seemed to slow. The coin flew straight without wobbling.
CLANG!
The coin struck right in the center of the robot's optic lens.
There was no big explosion at first. Just the sound of high-speed metal impact, followed by a tearing noise as the supercharged coin pierced the protective layer and burrowed deep into the internal circuits.
For a moment, the robot froze.
Then, from the small hole left by the coin, the red light began to flicker erratically. Blue sparks erupted from its joints.
Its entire body spasmed violently before finally exploding from within, a muffled blast that tore apart its chassis and made it collapse into a smoking pile of metal.
At the moment of the explosion, Fuse clenched his free hand. And the coin, which had pierced through the back of the robot's head and continued flying, suddenly stopped in mid-air.
The object vibrated for a moment before reversing direction, shooting back toward its master at a slightly slower speed, but still as fast as a bullet.
With a casual motion, Fuse opened his palm and caught the now scorching hot coin without flinching.
Midoriya, who had just escaped death, could only stare with his mouth agape. His wide, shocked eyes shifted from the smoking wreckage to Fuse, then to the small coin in his hand.
He couldn't utter a single word.
Instead, Fuse just smiled proudly. He tossed the hot coin slightly into the air and caught it again expertly.
"One point, I suppose?" he said in an indifferent tone, as if he had just done something trivial.
At that moment, behind him, another metallic creak sounded.
A second robot emerged from an alley, its piston-like arm swinging down to crush him from his blind spot!
A gigantic shadow suddenly enveloped him. The air behind him whistled. Fuse's eyes widened, his body tensing in surprise.
He jolted, trying to turn, but he knew it was too late!
WHOOSH!
A pitch-black form shot past him like a ghost. Its sharp, unreal claws tore into the robot's arm with brutal force, shredding it into metal fragments before slamming into the robot's head and crushing it in one savage attack.
It was Dark Shadow!
Tokoyami's shadow entity, emerging from his master's cloak with a low growl.
The second robot collapsed even faster than the first.
Tokoyami stepped out from the shadows, standing beside Fuse with his usual calm expression.
"Is it okay for a protagonist to be careless?" he asked, his deep voice sounding flat, without emotion.
Fuse recovered from his surprise in an instant. The embarrassment of nearly getting hit was covered with a thicker layer of arrogance. He chuckled softly, as if it was all part of his plan.
"A protagonist who allows his best friend to shine is a good protagonist."
He then turned fully, ignoring Tokoyami and the second pile of wreckage. His gaze now fixed straight on Midoriya, who was still standing frozen in the middle of the road, his face pale with shock.
Fuse smiled widely.
"Don't you agree, Midoriya?"
…
Thick black smoke billowed from the chassis of the destroyed robots, mixing with concrete dust, creating a choking haze that stung the eyes and coated the back of his throat with a bitter taste.
Around him, within a twenty-meter radius, lay a scene of total destruction. Severed mechanical arms, dented and perforated steel panels, and cables sprawled like artificial guts. The air was filled with the hiss of dying circuits and the sharp ozone smell from countless short circuits.
In the midst of that mechanical graveyard, Fuse stood gasping. His shoulders slumped, his entire body weight seemingly supported by his bones alone, as his muscles were screaming in surrender. His chest rose and fell rapidly and shallowly. Sweat soaked his dark red hair, making it limp and sticking to his forehead and temples. A small stream of sweat trickled down his face, leaving clean trails amid the layer of dust and grime, and stinging as it entered the corner of his eye.
His arms felt like lead, hanging limp at his sides. He tried to clench his hand, but his fingers could only tremble and curl weakly.
The energy he needed to manipulate the magnetic field had drained him to the core!
"Because of the full-day training before..." he muttered, his voice hoarse and broken. He raised his trembling backhand to wipe the sweat from his brow. "This... has become too heavy."
I should have known, he thought, Pushing myself to the limit yesterday was a foolish act. But... a protagonist must always exceed his limits, right?
This is the price.
His hope for a break was shattered by the sound he least wanted to hear: the simultaneous creak of heavy metal moving.
From three road intersections around him, six more robots appeared. Three agile 1-Point units and three larger, more threatening 2-Point units. Their red optic lenses glowed, focused on the only living target in the destruction zone.
Fuse gritted his teeth, the metallic taste of exhaustion filling his mouth. He forced his body back into a fighting stance, his trembling knees bent, his posture low.
One 1-Point robot shot forward, its circular saw on its arm roaring. Fuse had no energy for long-range precision attacks.
Instead, he extended his hand toward the nearest robot wreckage.
With a suppressed groan, he tore a door panel from its chassis. The door floated in the air, spinning like a deadly frisbee. He launched it. His attack wasn't as fast or accurate as before. The door hit the 1-Point robot not on the head, but on the chest, making it stagger back but not destroyed.
Meanwhile, two 2-Point robots fired a barrage of rubber bullets from their cannon arms.
Fuse pulled a second door panel, using it as an emergency shield.
The bullets slammed into his shield with loud, dull THUDS, the vibration from each impact traveling up his already exhausted arms, nearly making him lose his magnetic grip.
Tch, troublesome!
He slammed his shield to the ground, then with a yank of his will, he pulled a fallen traffic light pole. The pole shot across the ground like a steel snake, wrapping around the legs of one 2-Point robot and pulling it down with a satisfying BOOM.
But that attack left him exposed. The second 2-Point robot had closed in, its hammer-like arm swinging down.
No time to pull another projectile.
Fuse immediately pushed himself to the side, performing an awkward and desperate roll on the rough asphalt. The hammer smashed where he had stood a fraction of a second earlier, shattering the concrete and sending a shockwave he felt in his teeth.
His breath now came out in painful hisses. He pushed himself up, but the 1-Point robot that had staggered was now recovered and attacking again. Its saw aimed straight at Fuse's neck.
Without thinking, Fuse raised his hand. He focused his remaining strength on the spinning saw.
With a forced metal groan, the saw's rotation slowed, held by his repelling magnetic field, until it stopped completely just inches from his throat. Ozone stung his nostrils as the motor fought against his power.
With one last desperate burst of energy, he reversed the field's polarity, wrenching the saw from the robot's arm and launching it back into the robot's own head. It embedded deeply, and the robot collapsed.
One down. Five left. The fight continued in a blurry and brutal cycle. He tore sharp fragments from enemy wreckage, using them as flying daggers. He used manhole covers as shields. He even pulled bolts from nearby building frames, turning the environment itself into his arsenal.
"Thirty points," he hissed, after downing a 2-Point robot by piercing both its leg joints with rebar rods he pulled from the ruins.
Only to see four more robots appear from the end of the road. A frustrated groan escaped his lips.
He staggered back, leaning against a ruined wall to support his trembling body.
One massive 3-Point robot fired a small rocket from its shoulder. Fuse only had time to pull a large steel plate from the ground and hold it in front of him. The explosion pushed him several meters back, the plate scorching hot under his magnetic control and his ears ringing loudly.
He coughed, smoke filling his lungs.
A protagonist must not lose... a protagonist will not give up....
He dropped the plate, revealing the 3-Point robot reloading its ammunition.
Quickly, Fuse pulled a coin from his pocket and shot it with a regular flick into the open rocket barrel.
At that moment, an explosion occurred inside the launcher itself, tearing the robot's arm to shreds.
Fuse used the opportunity to attack its core with a barrage of nuts and bolts.
"Thirty-one points." His breath came in gasps between the words.
And then, no more approaching metal creaks. No more flashes of red optic lenses at the end of the road. The fight was over. For now.
Fuse finally let his body give in. His strength vanished just like that. He slumped to the ground, his back leaning roughly against the ruined wall, and he could only sit there, panting, amid the sea of his destruction.
A deep, trembling sigh of relief escaped him, a sound laden with pure relief.
At that moment, the ground beneath him suddenly began to vibrate.
At first just a subtle tremor, but it quickly escalated into a violent shake that made his teeth chatter. The vibration was so strong he nearly fell sideways. The debris around him rattled and shifted.
GRRRRRRRR... BOOM... BOOM...
A deep, grinding sound came from the distance, a sound felt in his ribs more than heard by his ears. The sound of buildings collapsing.
With great effort, Fuse braced himself with his arms and lifted his head. His eyes narrowed, trying to pierce the thick dust cloud rising on the horizon of the city.
And then he saw it.
A gigantic silhouette emerged from behind the dust, so large it blocked the sun, casting a colossal shadow that swallowed the entire block. A robot that made the 3-Point robots look like toys.
The 0-Point robot.
An obstacle designed to be avoided, not fought.
Seeing that man-made monster, Fuse felt no fear. He felt something else.
"So this is the time for the canon event?" he whispered to himself, a thin and weary smile curling on his cracked lips.
He knew this wasn't his fight. His body was spent. But the role he had to play wasn't over.
He had to be the observer.
With a groan of pain he tried to hide, he planted his hands on the ground and pushed himself to stand. His legs trembled violently, and he had to lean on the wall for support. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest.
"Go ahead and shine, Midoriya," he said toward the general direction where he knew the true protagonist was. His voice louder than a whisper. "I, a protagonist, allow you."
He began walking, or more accurately, limping, toward the massive robot. He stumbled over debris, his exhausted body barely able to maintain balance.
But he kept going, dragging himself toward the center of the drama, ensuring he had a front-row seat for the upcoming show.
…
A/N: Lately, I've been too busy so I could only update today. Actually, I wrote it yesterday, but I forgot to upload it. Forgive me.
I'm looking forward to your comments!
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