The bright morning sunlight flooded Class 1-A's room, but for Fuse Yasushi, the true source of light in the space wasn't the sun—it was himself. He sat at his desk, back relaxed against the chair, one hand draped over the backrest while the other tapped the tabletop in a victorious rhythm.
Around his desk, a small orbit had formed. Eijiro Kirishima and Denki Kaminari stood there, staring at him with open curiosity and undisguised admiration. To Fuse, this was the natural order of the universe: the protagonist at the center, surrounded by supporting characters ready to receive his wisdom.
"You were awesome, man! Super manly!" Kirishima shouted, eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, fist clenched in the air. "How did you do that yesterday?! You beat the explosion kid—I mean Bakugo—without even blinking! That move where you blocked his blasts with those iron wings… it was so cool!"
"And when you controlled all that building debris…" Kaminari leaned forward, nearly touching Fuse's desk. "Can you really control all that metal with your whole heart? I mean, without looking? How far is your range?! Could you pull a satellite down from space?!"
Fuse flashed a wide, perfectly polished smile—the kind made for future hero magazine covers. He savored this moment. Worship. Recognition. Of course it was deserved; his power was the coolest and most aesthetic in the entire class!
"Easy, easy, friends. One at a time," Fuse said in a calm, low tone, raising his palm like a kindergarten teacher soothing a tantrum. "Of course I beat that kid easily. Not trying to brag—okay, maybe a little—but all he has is noisy fireworks."
He glanced toward Bakugo's seat. The blond boy sat silently, staring out the window with a murderous aura. Yesterday's defeat had clearly struck his pride hard.
"That guy has huge potential, I'll give him that," Fuse continued. "But he'd need hundreds of years of training to even come close to challenging me again on equal terms! He plays with fire; I play with the laws of physics. Different levels."
Tokoyami, seated beside Fuse and reading a book, rolled his eyes so hard Fuse could practically feel the motion.
"Don't feed him any more fuel…" Tokoyami muttered under his breath, voice raspy. "His ego is already massive enough to have its own gravitational field."
Fuse ignored him. He's just being tsundere, Fuse thought. He must be jealous because he's not surrounded by fans.
Fuse turned back to Kaminari. "As for range… good question. I can easily reach dozens to a hundred meters with precise control. But if I train harder and get into the right mental state—like when I'm being especially cool—it'll go even farther. Maybe one day I really could pull down a satellite. Impressive, right?"
"That's insane! So manly!" Kirishima nodded vigorously, his spiky red hair bouncing.
Suddenly, Kirishima looked at Fuse with a challenging, friendship-fueled grin. He hardened his arms until they turned jagged stone.
"Wanna fight me next time, Fuse? During the next sparring session?" he asked. "My body's hard—super hard—and most importantly: there's no metal in me! I'm not a bad matchup for you like Iida or Bakugo. I'll try to beat you with these manly fists!"
Kaminari clapped. "Great idea! I'll referee and watch. Metal vs Rock!"
Fuse grinned. A challenge? From a close-range fighter type? Another golden opportunity to show off.
"Of course—if you ask politely," Fuse replied. "Just be ready to witness my greatness once again. Pick the place you want. I'll be waiting. But remember, Kirishima… even rocks can be crushed."
Kirishima was about to answer with blazing enthusiasm when the classroom door slid open.
SREET.
A cold, sleepy aura swept through the room. Kirishima and Kaminari—who had decent survival instincts—immediately darted back to their seats.
Shota Aizawa, their perpetually exhausted homeroom teacher who looked like an under-slept mummy, walked in.
"Can't you stay quiet?" Aizawa rasped, voice tired. "It's barely morning and you're already wasting energy on pointless chatter."
He walked to the podium and set down a stack of papers.
"You clearly need more discipline when no teacher is around. So today, you'll get it in the form of administrative duty."
The class held its breath. Another surprise test?
"Today is class president election," Aizawa announced flatly.
Instantly the tension dissolved, replaced by explosive excitement. Aizawa continued, ignoring their reactions. "Just write the name of whoever you think is suitable and put it in this box."
He pointed to an empty cardboard box on the teacher's desk.
Fuse's heart pounded with anticipation.
Perfect! So this is the moment? he thought, eyes gleaming. The coronation of the king. Class President. The perfect position for a protagonist. It'll give me authority over these extras and, of course, the spotlight at every school event.
He took a slip of paper and a pen.
I'll write my own name, obviously. Who else is more qualified? And after yesterday's performance, they'll all vote for me. This will be an absolute victory. A true victory!
But reality in Class 1-A turned out… messier than he'd predicted.
"WOOO! SO WE CAN WRITE OUR OWN NAMES, SENSEI?" Kirishima yelled, already holding a pen with burning spirit. "I wanna be class rep! That's super manly!"
"Whatever," Aizawa muttered, then immediately crawled into his yellow sleeping bag in the corner like a giant hibernating caterpillar. "Whoever gets the most votes becomes president and vice president. Don't wake me until it's done."
The teacher was asleep—or pretending—in seconds. Truly a terrible role model, Fuse thought.
"Yeah! Today Denki Kaminari becomes class president!" Kaminari declared, standing on his chair. "I'll… make more holidays! Make sure you vote for me, friends!"
"No one's voting for you, you damn extra!" Bakugo roared from his seat, neck veins bulging. "Vote for me! I'll lead you extras!"
"Hey! Hey! You should all vote for me!" Mineta hopped up and down, drooling. "I'll make rules that benefit the whole class… especially the boys! Hehehe!"
Mina Ashido raised her hand. "Me! Me! I wanna be class rep! I'll make festivals every day!"
Aoyama flicked his hair. "Oui, my sparkle is the most suitable to lead your darkness."
Many more spoke after that. The class turned into a noisy marketplace. Everyone shouted their own names, promoting ridiculous, self-serving visions.
Fuse's brow furrowed deeply. His face showed pure disgust.
This is bad, he thought, glaring at his classmates with judgment. This isn't in my ideal script! Everyone wants the position! How? Where's their shame? Where's their self-awareness?
He shook his head, clicking his tongue softly.
Greedy and shameless! Why don't they realize there's only one sun in this solar system? Running themselves when they're just supporting characters… such misplaced arrogance. Unlike me—my arrogance is backed by facts.
Fuse wrote his own name in large, bold capital letters—FUSE YASUSHI—then folded the paper neatly.
Amid the chaos, a commanding mechanical voice cut through the noise.
"QUIET!"
Tenya Iida stood ramrod straight, hand raised high, radiating order. The class fell silent instantly.
"Everyone! This is improper!" Iida shouted, arms chopping the air stiffly. "Class president is a heavy responsibility that requires leading others! It is not a job one can take just because they want it!"
Iida scanned the room with sharp eyes behind his glasses.
"It is a sacred duty that requires trust from those around you! If we want to decide a true leader in this democracy…"
Iida raised a finger.
"…we should not nominate ourselves, and only vote for others we believe are worthy! That way, we can see who the class truly trusts. How about it?"
"But Iida," Tsuyu interjected, finger on her chin. "We haven't known each other long enough. How can we trust others?"
"And everyone will just vote for themselves," Kirishima added.
"Exactly!" Iida insisted, sweat beading at his temples. "That's the test! Anyone who gets even one vote from someone else in this situation… is the most worthy! Do you agree, Sensei?!"
Iida turned toward the yellow cocoon on the floor. Aizawa didn't move.
"As long as you finish on time, I don't care," came the muffled reply from inside the sleeping bag.
Iida nodded firmly. "Very well! Let's proceed with the vote!"
Fuse smirked at Iida's speech.
Interesting, he thought. Good strategy, Iida. But it only benefits me. Who stood out most yesterday? Who saved his team? Me. Your votes are mine.
He walked to the front, dropped his paper into the box with full confidence—still writing his own name, ignoring Iida's suggestion.
Fuse returned to his seat in the back row, passing Tokoyami who stared at his blank paper with the intensity of a philosopher contemplating life's meaning.
"Don't forget to vote for me, Fumikage," Fuse whispered as he passed, giving what he considered a charismatic wink. "You can be my vice president. The right hand of the king. Strategic position, right?"
Tokoyami met his gaze briefly. Without a word, he wrote something quickly, folded it, and walked forward to drop it in the box.
Time passed. Everyone cast their votes. Aizawa—somehow waking precisely on time from hibernation mode—rose from his sleeping bag. With his permanently bored face, he began counting votes on the blackboard.
One by one, names appeared. Tally marks were added.
And when Aizawa's marker finally stopped squeaking, Fuse felt his smile freeze.
On the board, the results were clear, brutal, and undeniable.
Izuku Midoriya: 3 votes
Momo Yaoyorozu: 2 votes
Fuse Yasushi: 2 votes
The rest scattered one by one—proof that almost everyone in this class had arrogance as high as Fuse's, but without the charisma to convince others. Fuse's eyebrow twitched. His forehead creased in disbelief.
Two?! his mind screamed. Only two?!
His eyes scanned the number again and again, hoping it was a typo or optical illusion.
One vote is obviously mine. The most valid and weighted vote. But… the other one?
He whipped his head toward Tokoyami. The bird-headed boy sat calmly, staring forward as if nothing had happened. Fuse's heart clenched. A strange warmth suddenly filled his chest, slightly easing his anger at this clearly flawed democratic system.
So only Tokoyami voted for me? Not Kirishima who praised me earlier? Not Kaminari who was mesmerized? Not Midoriya who I saved?
Fuse snorted softly, crossing his arms.
Everyone else must have voted for themselves! Shameless! Greedy! Even though I already demonstrated absolute leadership quality yesterday. But Tokoyami… he's known me for a long time. He knows my potential. He trusts me.
Fuse glanced at his friend again. Hah, at least one person in this class has good taste.
At the front, Midoriya trembled violently, looking ready to vomit from pressure. "I-I… three votes?!" he squeaked.
Bakugo, who ended up with zero votes—probably because he didn't vote for himself or his vote wasn't counted after he wrote "DIE"—stood and slammed his desk. "WHO VOTED FOR DEKU?! DAMN IT!"
"Maybe because you're too scary," Sero commented casually.
"Tch," Fuse turned away. "This class needs glasses."
The break bell rang, saving Fuse from having to watch Midoriya's panicked face any longer. Lunchtime. Perfect for recharging energy and mourning his failed political fate.
Fuse left the classroom with slightly dragging steps, head lowered. Not because he was sad—of course protagonists don't get sad over trivial things—but because he was "contemplating the stupidity of the masses." A hand then landed on his shoulder.
"Fuse?"
Fuse turned. Tokoyami stood beside him, gaze concerned.
"It's only class president," Tokoyami said calmly and wisely. "Don't overthink it. A position is just a social label. You're far greater than that, right? A dragon doesn't need a title to be feared."
Fuse paused. Then his signature grin returned—this time more genuine.
"Yeah," Fuse smiled, patting the back of Tokoyami's hand. "That's stupid. You're right. Why should I care about school bureaucracy? I'm destined to lead the world, not manage cleaning schedules."
"That's the spirit," Tokoyami nodded. "Come on, my stomach is calling."
They walked side by side toward U.A.'s massive cafeteria, surrounded by the flow of students from various courses. "But seriously, Fumikage," Fuse said as they walked. "Who voted for Midoriya? Three people? That's suspicious. I smell conspiracy."
"Maybe Iida," Tokoyami replied. "He was very vocal about voting for the worthy. And Uraraka, obviously."
"And the third?"
"No idea. Maybe himself?"
"No, Midoriya's too cowardly for that. He definitely voted for someone else. Which means… there's a secret admirer in our class." Fuse didn't quite remember this part from the original anime—it had been too long.
They queued, grabbed trays. Fuse chose the katsudon set with a large salad—balanced hero nutrition. Tokoyami took fruit and meat. As they looked for seats amid the sea of people, Fuse's mind wandered. He glanced at the digital clock on the cafeteria wall.
12:25.
Memory of the original storyline struck him.
Wait… he thought. Today… isn't this the day the media breaks through the gate? When Shigaraki Tomura destroys U.A.'s defense barrier just to send a message?
He looked toward the tall cafeteria windows. The sky outside was peacefully blue.
It should be any moment now. Level 3 alarm will sound.
For a second, his heroic instinct urged him to act. Maybe go to the gate? Stop Shigaraki?
But then exhaustion from last night's training and sheer laziness hit.
Ah, whatever, he thought, taking a bite of rice. I'm too tired to do anything. Besides, in this event no students get hurt. Just mass panic and a broken gate. Let the plot run. If I stop it now, USJ might not happen, and I'll miss my real-villain debut.
But his eyes narrowed.
Still… if Shigaraki dares come in here… I'll catch him. I'll turn those hands on his face into scrap.
Fuse was just about to put the last piece of katsu in his mouth when—
WIIIIING! WIIIIING! WIIIIING!
The piercing, deafening siren exploded throughout the cafeteria. Red lights spun on the walls.
"WARNING! SECURITY BREACH LEVEL 3! ALL STUDENTS EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY!"
The robotic voice triggered instant chaos.
"What?! Level 3?!"
"That means villains got inside the school building!"
"Run! Run fast!"
Panic spread like a virus. Hundreds of students stood at once, chairs screeching and toppling. A terrified human wave surged toward the exits.
Fuse sighed, setting down his chopsticks in annoyance.
Here it comes, he thought. Right on schedule, as expected.
He and Tokoyami stood, but they were immediately pushed by the panicked crowd. Bodies collided, elbows jabbed ribs, hysterical screams filled the air.
"Move! Don't push!" a Business Course student yelled. "We're gonna die!"
Fuse frowned. He hated crowds. He hated being touched by strangers. And most of all, he hated unaesthetic disorder. He spotted Iida in the middle, rocking like a paper boat in a storm, trying to shout but drowned out.
Iida's about to do his Exit Sign thing, Fuse remembered. He'll fly up and calm everyone. That's his moment.
But then an elbow grazed Fuse's arm, nearly knocking over his precious remaining lunch.
Patience snapped.
Screw Iida's moment. I'm taking the stage. They're too noisy!
Fuse closed his eyes briefly, sensing the building's structure around him. The cafeteria had strong steel framing. Above them, metal ventilation pipes and industrial hanging lights.
He opened his eyes. Red glowing.
"Tokoyami, cover your ears," Fuse ordered shortly.
Before Tokoyami could ask, Fuse raised his right hand high.
WUNGGGG!
A powerful magnetic vibration radiated from him. Not to attack—but to seize attention.
Spoons, forks, and metal trays scattered on nearby tables rattled violently. Then, with one sharp gesture from Fuse, hundreds of utensils floated upward.
CLING! KLANG! TRING!
The sound of clashing metal created a startling metallic symphony. The spoons and forks didn't attack anyone; they flew upward, gathering at the ceiling, forming a glittering silver vortex under the lights.
The visual and auditory effect made nearby students freeze, heads snapping upward in shock.
"WHAT IS THAT?!"
In the brief silence caused by surprise, Fuse seized the moment.
He didn't need to fly like Iida. He just needed physics.
He pulled an empty metal table toward him, then leaped onto it. With his quirk, he made the table hover one meter above the crowd's heads, turning it into a flying podium.
"SHUT UP, ALL OF YOU!"
His voice thundered. Fuse had bent a metal tray into an improvised megaphone in front of his mouth, projecting his voice throughout the room.
Every eye turned to him. The red-haired boy standing on a floating table, surrounded by a halo of flying cutlery. He looked like a war god angry that his mealtime had been interrupted.
"Look out the window, you pathetic future heroes!" Fuse shouted, pointing dramatically toward the large glass windows.
Students turned.
"That's not villains! That's not a monster attack! That's just a pack of thirsty media reporters!"
Outside, a crowd of journalists with cameras and microphones was trying to breach the gate, held back by Aizawa and Present Mic.
"There's nothing to fear except their article deadlines!" Fuse continued, voice dripping with mocking authority. "You're at U.A., the best hero school! All Might is here! Pro heroes are here! And most importantly… I am here!"
He spread his arms.
"You panic like chickens seeing a fox just because an alarm rang? Pathetic! Where's your pride? Where's your composure? If you want to be heroes, start by not trampling your own classmates just to save your skin!"
The words slapped the students' awareness. Shame crept onto their faces. Panic ebbed, replaced by murmurs and relieved sighs.
"He's right… it's just the media."
"Oh god, I pushed someone earlier."
"Who is he? So cool…"
Fuse lowered his arms. He gently lowered his flying table back to the floor. The spoons and forks at the ceiling slowly descended, returning neatly to the utensil return area.
"Return to class in an orderly manner," Fuse commanded, stepping down and brushing nonexistent dust from his uniform. "Show's over."
Tokoyami stared at him, beak slightly open. "That… was very effective. And very you."
Fuse grinned, winking. "Of course. I hate chaos I didn't plan."
In the distance, Iida looked at Fuse with awe, nodding respectfully. Kirishima gave a thumbs-up from the crowd. The atmosphere in Class 1-A after the incident felt different. Calmer, yet with a new layer of respect hanging in the air.
Midoriya stood at the podium, trembling again. But this time, not from fear.
"Ahem," Midoriya began, voice small. "So… about the class president position…"
Everyone looked at him.
"After what just happened… I realized I'm not ready," Midoriya continued honestly. "In an emergency, I panicked. I couldn't make quick decisions to calm everyone."
He looked straight toward Fuse, who sat casually in the back.
"But there's someone who can. Someone who quickly assessed the situation, took action, and united us all with… his unique style."
Midoriya took a deep breath.
"I want to step down as class president. And I nominate Fuse as class president, because he also tried to calm everyone and has strong leadership spirit."
People nodded, and Fuse's heart swelled.
…
A/N: Here's chapter 13… not much different from canon except the class president position is now taken by Fuse. Next up is heading toward the USJ arc where the villains come to kill All Might. Time for Fuse to cook 🔥✍️ If you can't wait, check my Patreon—I update way faster there than on this platform! (I've already posted 3 chapters after this one!)
You can see the next chapter sooner on my patreon whose link is below:
https://www.pâtreon.com/Junxt
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