Ever since he was a child, Kazuki Hayate had wanted to be a hero.
Not just any hero, but the kind who made people feel safe, who could stop a fight with nothing more than a smile. He had watched All Might on TV, mesmerized by the way the number one hero's grin never faltered, even when buildings crumbled around him. And there it was: I AM HERE, the simple words anyone could cling to when everything was falling apart.
Kazuki didn't have a catchphrase yet, but he had something almost as dramatic: a finger gun. He'd crafted it in middle school, during what he now half-embarrassedly called his chuunibyou era. Back then, he believed he could command attention and admiration with a simple gesture. It was silly, but it had worked on his little brother. If a finger gun could inspire courage in someone, maybe it could work for everyone someday.
Now, as he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, he practiced his smile again. Not too stiff, not too loose. Approachable, but heroic. Reassuring, but natural.
The curtain fluttered behind him. Just a draft, he told himself. He inhaled, exhaled, and tightened the strap on his bag.
Musutafu City was awake. Quirks flared around him like fireworks. A man's arms turned translucent as he reached across the street. A woman hovered centimeters above the pavement while arguing on her phone. Somewhere nearby, a child sneezed and accidentally painted a mailbox pink.
No one cared. As long as nothing exploded, life went on.
Kazuki walked with easy strides, breathing deeply the way his quirk training had drilled into him so thoroughly that it didn't feel like training anymore. He liked how calm it made him feel. Focused. Ready. Occasionally, light debris shifted when he passed. Leaves rolled, loose flyers lifted and scattered but Musutafu was windy anyway. No one questioned it.
At Musutafu Municipal Middle School No. 3, the halls buzzed. Lockers slammed. Sparks flew from a boy's fingers when he laughed too hard. Someone's tail knocked over a chair. A girl with stone-like skin carefully avoided corners.
Kazuki smiled at the people he passed. Some smiled back. Some froze for a beat, like they had been caught in a trap of their own making, then forced a smile too quickly. He frowned, tilting his head. Maybe they're just tired, he thought. Early mornings made people weird sometimes.
In class, he leaned over the desk of the boy next to him when he noticed a mistake in the notes. "That part comes first," he said softly, pointing at the page.
The boy's eyes went wide, as if Kazuki had just prevented some minor catastrophe.
"Thanks," the boy muttered, and then laughed nervously.
Kazuki offered a small smile, a little nod, and returned to his own desk. Helping others had always felt natural to him. It was like stretching a hand out when someone stumbled. It wasn't about recognition; it was about doing the right thing. And yet, sometimes he couldn't help noticing the way people looked at him afterward, eyes a little too sharp, posture a little too stiff.
After lunch, he volunteered to return paperwork to the faculty office. Boring tasks, maybe, but heroes didn't just show up when the big explosions happened. Heroes noticed the small problems too.
The raised voices came first, cutting through the hum of the gym. Kazuki's stomach tightened. He turned just in time to see three older students pressing a younger boy against the side of the equipment shed. One gripped the boy's collar. The others loomed. Tiny flickers of water quivered at the boy's fingertips, trembling like a flame in the wind.
Kazuki's pulse quickened. This was exactly the kind of scene he had pictured countless times as a child, except now it was real.
"Hey," he said, voice calm but firm, stepping forward.
All four heads snapped toward him. The tallest boy cracked his knuckles, sparks dancing along his skin.
"Go away. This does not concern you," the spark-user said, his voice tight.
The boy gripping the collar tensed, muscles bunching as claws slightly extended from his fingers, instinct kicking in. He felt a strange pressure, like invisible hands pressing against his chest. His eyes flicked to Kazuki. He had faced other students before, faced fear and fights, but this was different. His heart hammered and his claws retracted slightly without him meaning to.
"Who does this guy think he is?" he thought. Sparks crackled at his fingertips but felt weaker somehow.
Kazuki tilted his head. "It does. You are hurting him."
The spark-user laughed. It sounded forced. Heat prickled along his skin and a cold weight settled in his chest. His quirk surged, but he could not step closer. "Or what," he muttered, more to himself than to Kazuki.
The last boy, a rhino mutant, shifted uneasily. He could feel his muscles stiffen, his own body straining under something invisible. The presence of Kazuki pressed into his mind and body, though he had no idea why. This was supposed to be his territory. He could see the others hesitating and realized the same thing was happening to them. Fear mixed with confusion.
Kazuki's breathing was slow and steady. The air around him seemed to hum, dust lifting faintly at their feet. Instinct took over.
The bullies faltered. One of them blinked and stumbled back. Sparks dimmed and the mutant's claws retreated fully. Within a moment, all three ran.
No insults. No bravado. Just gone.
Kazuki exhaled. He looked at the smaller boy, who blinked rapidly. "Are you okay?"
"Y-Yes. Thank you." The boy nodded and bolted before Kazuki could say more.
Kazuki rubbed the back of his neck, puzzled. Maybe he's just shy.
–
Over the next few days, Kazuki began noticing patterns he didn't quite understand. Students whispered when he walked by. Groups parted just a little too quickly. A first-year dropped his notebook twice in one day and apologized before Kazuki could speak.
He attributed it to early-morning nerves, to the quirks in the air, to anything but the truth: he was starting to attract attention he didn't intend.
Then Takeshi Yamada started sitting beside him at lunch. The same boy from the gym, the rhino mutant, loud, blunt, and quick to flare. His mutant quirk gave him massive strength, thickened skin, and a body built for collisions. Teachers kept a careful watch, and most students steered clear, unsure how to handle someone like him. Kazuki, however, saw someone who needed guidance, not fear.
Takeshi complained about everything from school, tests, expectations, and the way the world seemed to assume he was trouble before he had done anything. Kazuki listened, eyes steady, posture firm, hands relaxed on the table.
When Takeshi slammed his fist down, rattling the table, Kazuki placed a hand lightly on his shoulder. "Failing doesn't define you," he said quietly. "What matters is what you do next."
Takeshi froze, his horned forehead pressed slightly toward Kazuki's hand. He could feel the same calm presence from the gym earlier, something that had made his muscles tense and quirk strain without him realizing it. He hadn't understood it then, but now, sitting here, he felt it again. The pressure was not frightening. It was steady. Safe.
He swallowed, nodded once, almost imperceptibly, and muttered, "Yeah… I'll try."
Kazuki didn't hear it.
–
That evening, walking home, Kazuki felt the familiar warmth of satisfaction. He had helped. He had done something right. The city lights flickered on, painting the streets in orange and silver. He felt… complete.
But as he passed a quiet alley, a few students fell silent, their eyes following him. One muttered to another, barely above a whisper.
"That's him."
"The one with the air quirk"
Kazuki adjusted his bag strap, smiling faintly, breathing steadily. He had no idea why everyone looked so serious.
Behind him, Takeshi slowed his pace, feeling that calm, steady presence from earlier in the gym, the unshakable certainty in Kazuki's eyes. Takeshi had never met anyone like him, never seen someone who could inspire both fear and trust without trying.
He looked at Kazuki and made a decision silently, a promise in his own way. He would follow him. He would protect him. He would tell others about him.
Kazuki didn't notice. He was just walking home, thinking about the smaller boy he had helped earlier and the quiet satisfaction of doing something right.
Somewhere in the shadows, unseen and unrecognized, a network was beginning to form. And at the center of it all, unknowingly, was Kazuki Hayate.