Resurgence: From the ashes we shall arise!

As Eichi sat in class, bored out of his mind, he half-listened to the teacher drone on about the history of Quirks. The so-called "Quirks," which he knew were nothing more than a mutated form of chakra, had appeared a few hundred years ago, quickly spreading through the newer generations of this world. With their emergence came chaos, as such power was never exempt from human greed. Eichi's own clan, the Uzumaki, had been victims of that same greed.

The Uzumaki clan had once been known for their mastery of Kenjutsu and Fuinjutsu, long before the founding of the shinobi villages. 

They were isolationists, thriving in relative peace during the Warring States period while their cousins, the Senju, were embroiled in constant conflict. This isolation allowed the Uzumaki to grow in size and strength, their expertise in sealing techniques and swordsmanship unmatched. 

But after the shinobi villages were established, wars escalated from local skirmishes to continental conflicts, and the Uzumaki were inevitably dragged into the First Shinobi World War.

Despite their prowess in Fuinjutsu and Kenjutsu—both devastating in their own right—the Uzumaki were not invincible. The Second Hokage, Tobirama Senju, who had extensive knowledge of Uzumaki seals, created jutsu that defied the laws of the universe: Edo Tensei, Flying Raijin, the Eight Trigrams Seal, and more. 

These techniques showcased the terrifying potential of Fuinjutsu, and the world took notice. Fear of such power turned into greed, and soon, the Uzumaki became targets. Combined efforts from multiple nations led to the near annihilation of the clan, their knowledge and techniques sought after by those who wished to wield such power for themselves.

Eichi's lips curled into a faint, bitter smirk as he thought about it. The parallels between his world and this one were impossible to ignore. Here, Quirks had become a source of both power and division, much like chakra in his own world. 

The teacher mentioned that 80% of the population was Quirkless, but Eichi doubted that meant they lacked chakra entirely. For a mutation like a Quirk to occur, chakra had to exist in the first place. It was likely that the Quirkless simply hadn't unlocked or developed their chakra in a way that manifested as a Quirk.

As the bell rang, signaling the end of class, Eichi stood up, his expression unreadable. He was about to head outside when the teacher's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"For those who don't have hero costumes yet, please go to the Development Studio and inform them of your preferences. After that, meet me at the P.E. grounds. Thank you, everyone."

Eichi sighed inwardly, already regretting not paying more attention to Kaina's endless chatter when she had been "guiding" him earlier. Of course, he'd tuned her out—her enthusiasm was exhausting—but now he was paying the price for it. He made his way to the door, already mentally drafting a map of the school in his head. Not having one already was a major oversight, and he wasn't about to let that slide.

Just as he stepped into the hallway, he saw her—Kaina, with her bright purple hair and that blinding smile plastered across her face. She was leaning casually against the wall, as if she'd been waiting for him. Upon seeing her, Eichi barely managed to suppress another sigh. She was, without a doubt, an irritating individual—always so cheerful, so talkative, so... much. But as much as he hated to admit it, he needed her right now. She knew her way around this place, and he didn't have the patience to wander aimlessly.

And didn't she have class a minute ago on the other end of the building? How did she get here so fast? Was her Quirk teleportation or something? Did she somehow know the Shunshin no Jutsu? The thought made him narrow his eyes slightly, though his expression remained otherwise neutral.

"Eichi!" she called out, waving enthusiastically. "I heard you need to go to the Development Studio. Lucky for you, I was just heading that way myself. Come on, I'll show you!"

Eichi tilted his head, his tone dry and his expression unchanging. "Do you have my timetable or something? You stalking me?"

Kaina blinked, her smile faltering for just a moment before she laughed, waving a hand dismissively. "What? No! I'm not stalking you. That's creepy! I just happened to overhear the teacher talking about it earlier. Plus, I'm kind of the class rep, so I make it my business to know what's going on. You know, helping people and all that."

Eichi raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Class rep, huh? So you're the designated busybody."

Kaina pouted, crossing her arms. "Hey, that's not fair! I'm just trying to be helpful. You're new here, and I figured you could use a guide. But if you'd rather wander around lost, be my guest."

Eichi studied her for a moment. As much as he found her overly cheerful demeanor grating, he couldn't deny that she was useful. And if she was the class rep, she likely had access to information he might need later. For now, he'd play along.

"Shit," he muttered, sighing heavily. "Let's go on this adventure, I guess."

Kaina's pout instantly transformed into a grin, her energy bouncing back as if his reluctant agreement was the greatest victory. "That's the spirit! Don't worry, Eichi, I'll make sure this is painless. Well, mostly painless. Hatsume can be a little... intense, but she's a genius when it comes to support gear. You'll see!"

Eichi didn't respond, simply falling into step beside her as they walked. He wasn't sure what he was walking into, but he had a feeling it was going to be more of a headache than he'd bargained for.

As they made their way through the halls, Kaina chattered away, seemingly unfazed by his lack of engagement. "So, have you thought about what kind of costume you want? Something sleek and stealthy? Or maybe something with a lot of gadgets? Oh, or—wait, no, you'd probably hate that. You're more of a 'less is more' kind of guy, right?"

Eichi glanced at her, his expression flat. "Functional. That's all I need."

Kaina nodded, though her grin didn't fade. "Functional, got it. But you've got to think about the little details too, you know? Like, what colors do you want? Any specific materials? Oh, and what about your Quirk? You'll need something that complements it, right?"

Eichi didn't answer immediately, his mind briefly flickering to the cover story he'd been given. "Enhanced Strength," they called it. A simple, straightforward Quirk that didn't require much explanation. "Something durable," he said finally. "And no unnecessary frills."

Kaina tapped her chin, pretending to think deeply. "Durable, no frills... got it. I'll make sure to pass that along to Hatsume. But don't be surprised if she tries to convince you to add a jetpack or something. She's kind of obsessed with those."

Eichi sighed again, already regretting his decision to go along with this. "Incredible."

Kaina laughed, clearly enjoying his suffering. "Don't worry, Eichi. I'll protect you from her... probably."

As they arrived at their destination, Kaina raised her hand to knock on the door but paused midway, her smile faltering for the first time since they'd started this little excursion. Eichi tilted his head, his expression shifting slightly as he watched her hesitate. "What's wrong?" he asked, his tone dry but laced with a hint of curiosity.

Before Kaina could answer, a loud whoosh echoed from behind the door, followed by the sound of glass shattering and then—BOOM—an explosion that made the door rattle on its hinges. A faint plume of smoke seeped out from the gap at the bottom of the door, accompanied by the smell of something burning.

Kaina sighed, lowering her hand and taking a cautious step back. "Yeah, that's... about what I expected."

Eichi raised an eyebrow. "Is this normal?"

"For Hatsume? Absolutely," Kaina said, her tone a mix of resignation and amusement. "She's, uh, very passionate about her work. Sometimes a little too passionate."

Eichi stared at the door, the faint smell of smoke still lingering in the air. "And you thought bringing me here was a good idea?"

Kaina shrugged, her smile returning. "Hey, you wanted functional, right? Hatsume's the best when it comes to support gear. Just... maybe let her finish whatever she's doing before we go in. For safety reasons."

Eichi didn't respond, his gaze still fixed on the door. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but it certainly wasn't this. Still, if this Hatsume person was as skilled as Kaina claimed, she might be worth the trouble. Assuming, of course, she didn't blow them both up in the process.

After a moment, the sounds of frantic movement came from inside the room—clattering tools, muttered curses, and the occasional hiss of something cooling down. Finally, the door swung open, revealing a girl with pink hair tied up in a messy bun, goggles covering her eyes, and a wide, manic grin on her face. Her hands were covered in soot, and her lab coat was singed in several places.

"Kaina!" the girl exclaimed, her voice brimming with excitement. "You're just in time! I was testing my new baby, and it worked! Well, mostly. There was a tiny explosion, but that's just part of the process, right?"

Kaina chuckled nervously, taking another step back. "Uh, yeah, sure. Tiny explosion. Totally normal. Anyway, this is Eichi. He needs a hero costume. Think you can help him out?"

Hatsume's gaze immediately shifted to Eichi, her grin widening as she stepped closer, practically invading his personal space. "A new client! Excellent! Don't worry, I'll make you the best costume you've ever seen. Functional, durable, and with just the right amount of flair! Oh, and maybe a few extra features. You never know when you'll need a grappling hook or a built-in flamethrower, right?"

Eichi took a subtle step back, his expression as neutral as ever, though there was a faint glimmer of unease in his eyes. "Just functional is fine. No flamethrowers."

Hatsume waved a hand dismissively, already pulling him into the room. "Details, details! Come on, let's get started. I've got so many ideas already!"

As Eichi was dragged into the chaos of Hatsume's workshop, Kaina lingered in the doorway, watching with a mix of amusement and pity. "Good luck, Eichi," she called after him. "You're gonna need it."

Eichi shot her a look that could only be described as mildly betrayed before disappearing into the smoke-filled room. Kaina chuckled to herself, leaning against the doorframe. This was going to be fun to watch.

Some time later, Hatsume was frowning, shaking her head frantically. "No, no, no! This won't do. Grey and navy blue? Where are the colors? How are the citizens supposed to notice you? And let's not even talk about the mask—it's too scary! Yes, its protective abilities are incredible, but what about being famous? Huh?"

All the while she was frantically rambling, Eichi hung his head in his hand, already exhausted. However, he couldn't do much about the situation. After all, he couldn't just knock her out—not without causing a scene, at least.

The design he had presented and drawn with her was heavily inspired by the Konoha ANBU gear from his world. The ANBU had left a strong impression on him when they had rescued him from an ambush by a group of shinobi disguised as bandits, attempting to kidnap him. He didn't know much about the why or the how of that incident, but one thing had stuck with him: the appearance of the ANBU had been so frightening that the enemy genin had fled on the spot, leaving only a handful of chunin to face them. Even then, the ANBU's reputation hadn't been a fluke—two of them had subdued three chunin with ease.

It wasn't just their skill that had impressed him, though. It was the subtlety and efficiency of their gear. Chakra-conducting armguards, cushion pads for the knees, a lightweight reinforced mask, a small backpack with a sheath hanging below, and a utility pouch—everything about their equipment had been designed for practicality and stealth. That was the kind of functionality Eichi wanted, not some flashy, over-the-top hero costume.

Hatsume, however, was having none of it. She paced back and forth, gesturing wildly at the sketch. "You're a hero, not a shadow! You need to stand out, to inspire people! How are you supposed to do that if you look like... like some kind of assassin ghost? No offense, but this is way too dark and edgy."

Eichi sighed, lifting his head to look at her. "I don't care about standing out. I care about functionality. The mask protects my face, the armguards absorb impact, and the rest of it is lightweight and practical. That's all I need."

Hatsume stopped pacing, planting her hands on her hips and leaning forward to stare him down. "But you're missing the point! A hero's costume isn't just about functionality—it's about identity. It's how people recognize you, how they remember you! You can't just blend into the shadows and expect to make a difference."

Eichi met her gaze, his expression unchanging. "I'm not here to be remembered. I'm here to get the job done."

Hatsume groaned, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "You're impossible, you know that? Fine, fine, I'll work with what you've got. But I'm adding some color. Just a little! And maybe a few extra features. You'll thank me later."

Eichi paused for a moment, his mind flickering back to the heroes he'd seen since arriving in this world. Their costumes were beyond flashy—some were so over-the-top that he questioned their sanity, while others were so revealing that he couldn't fathom how they were practical in combat. It was all so... unnecessary. But if a little compromise would get Hatsume off his back, he supposed he could tolerate it.

He sighed, reaching out to stop her mid-rant with a grip so firm it made her breath catch in her lungs. "Alright, alright," he said, his tone resigned but firm. "Plaster this on my shoulders. Is that enough?" He presented a drawing, one of a crimson red swirling whirlpool—the Uzumaki clan symbol.

It was a risk, exposing his clan's emblem like this. But if he was going to be forced to identify himself to the world, he would do so as an Uzumaki, even if no one here knew what that meant. The symbol was more than just a mark—it was a reminder of where he came from, of the strength and resilience of his clan. Even if the world had forgotten them, he wouldn't.

The memory of his brother and himself. They had worn the standard Uzushiogakure uniform, the Uzumaki swirl plastered on their backs. Though their uniforms had been caked in dirt and filth, the symbol had still been visible in places—a half-red circle here, a faint outline there. Thus, the incident at District 69 wouldn't be traced back to him.

This was also a message, one he intended to send loud and clear. He was expected to graduate in about three years, and by then, he would have grown strong enough to back up the symbol he wore. Complacency bred weakness, and he had no intention of letting himself grow rusty. He had already decided long before his first class that he would begin training in earnest once he had gathered enough information about this world and its systems.

Hatsume blinked, her earlier frustration momentarily forgotten as she studied the drawing. "A red swirl, huh? That's... actually kind of cool. Minimalist, but striking. I can work with that." She glanced up at him, her grin returning. "See? Compromise isn't so bad, is it?"

"Your grip, though—wow. You've got some serious strength there. Is that part of your Quirk? Enhanced Strength, right? I could totally work that into the design. Maybe some reinforced gauntlets or something to help channel that power. Oh, or—"

Eichi cut her off, his tone flat but firm. "Just stick to the design. No extra features."

Hatsume pouted, clearly disappointed, but she didn't argue. "Fine, fine. No extra features. But I'm still adding some utility stuff. You'll thank me later, trust me."

Eichi didn't respond. He didn't care about utility features or flashy additions. All he needed was something functional, something that wouldn't get in his way. The Uzumaki symbol was the only concession he was willing to make, and even that was more for himself than for anyone else.

Kaina, who had been watching the entire exchange from the doorway, stepped into the room, her smile widening. "See? I told you she'd come around. And that symbol... it's kind of cool. What does it mean, anyway?"

"It's a reminder."

Kaina tilted her head, clearly curious, but when Eichi didn't elaborate, she let it drop. Instead, her eyes drifted back to the design, lingering on the more... unsettling aspects of it. The dark color scheme, the reinforced mask, and especially the tanto—a short, sleek blade that was prominently featured in the sketch.

"Okay, I get the whole 'mysterious and edgy' vibe you're going for," she said, her tone light but with a hint of unease. "But don't you think the tanto is a little... much? I mean, it's kind of giving off 'shinobi' energy, you know? Not exactly the most heroic look."

Eichi didn't flinch, his expression as neutral as ever. "It's practical."

Kaina crossed her arms, her smile fading slightly. "I get that, but you've got to think about the image you're projecting. Heroes are supposed to make people feel safe, not... intimidated. And knives strapped to their belts? That's not exactly reassuring."

Eichi met her gaze, his tone calm but firm. "The tanto is the only blade I'll carry. The rest of my weapons are blunt."

Kaina blinked, caught off guard. "Blunt? What do you mean?"

Eichi reached into his pocket and pulled out a small sketch, showing a set of weapons designed for non-lethal combat. There were kunai with rounded edges, weighted stone balls, and a few other tools that looked more like training equipment than actual weapons. "These are for practicality," he explained. "The kunai are blunt—useful for disarming or incapacitating without causing serious harm. The weighted balls can be used for ranged attacks or to create distractions. And the tanto is there for when I need something more... decisive."

Kaina stared at the sketch, her expression a mix of surprise and disbelief. "You've really thought this through, huh? But still, carrying around a bunch of weapons—even if they're blunt—isn't exactly standard hero protocol. People might think you're preparing for war or something."

Eichi shrugged. "If they do, they're not entirely wrong. Heroes fight villains. Villains don't play by the rules. I'd rather be overprepared than underprepared."

Kaina opened her mouth to argue but stopped herself, realizing she wasn't going to win this one. Instead, she sighed, shaking her head. "You're impossible, you know that? Fine, keep your blunt weapons and your tanto. But don't be surprised if people start calling you 'the ninja hero' or something."

Eichi didn't respond, his attention already shifting back to the design. The tanto wasn't just a weapon—it was a symbol of his training, his discipline, his Kenjutsu. If people misunderstood that, so be it. He wasn't here to play the part of a flashy, crowd-pleasing hero. He was here to go up the ladder and use the influence to track them down.

Hatsume, who had been quietly observing the exchange, suddenly piped up. "You know, I could make the tanto collapsible or something. That way, it's less obvious when you're not using it. Still practical, but a little less... intimidating. What do you think?"

"No. Overcomplicating the tanto will inevitably cause logistical problems in an emergency. It's a last resort, not a gadget. I'd rather have a familiar, reliable weapon that complements my style than something prone to malfunction."

Hatsume pouted, clearly disappointed, but she didn't push the issue. "Alright, alright. No collapsible tanto. But I'm still making sure it's balanced and durable. You can't argue with that, right?"

Eichi gave a small nod. "I would apreciate it, yes please.

"Hatsume grinned, already scribbling notes on the design. "Got it! Balanced and durable tanto, coming right up. Oh, and I'll make sure the sheath is easy to draw from. You never know when you'll need it in a pinch."

Kaina, meanwhile, shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. But then her expression shifted, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Wait a second," she said, her tone more serious now. "How do you even know how to use a sword and knives? Even if they're blunt, that's not exactly a normal skill set. Most people don't just pick up blade fighting for fun. Where did you learn all that?"

Eichi's expression remained neutral, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—caution, perhaps. "I trained," he said simply.

Kaina wasn't satisfied. "Trained where? With who? You're not exactly from around here, and your file doesn't say anything about martial arts or weapon training. So, what's the deal? You some kind of secret prodigy or something?"

"I've had experiences that required me to learn. That's all you need to know."

Kaina's eyes narrowed slightly, her suspicion growing. "Experiences, huh? That's pretty vague. You're not exactly making it easy to trust you, you know."

Eichi didn't flinch. "I'm not here to make friends. I'm here to do my job. If that's a problem, then that's your issue, not mine."

---

Some time later, Kaina returned to class, and Eichi made his way to the P.E. grounds. His costume had been prepared, and he walked toward the changing room, his expression as neutral as ever. He was well aware of the looks Kaina and the others gave him whenever they caught a glimpse of his scarred face and hands. He wasn't about to worsen his situation by giving them more to stare at.

The changing room was full of boys, already in various states of undress as they prepared to put on their costumes. Most of them had their costumes ready days before Eichi's, which was why it had taken so little time—just an hour—to finish his. Such practicality, he thought with a sigh. If it had taken any longer, he wouldn't have had to back away from the room and risk people seeing him perform hand signs to cast a genjutsu on himself.

As he walked out of the changing room, not a second later, someone called out, their voice loud and grating. "Yo, Eichi! Come on! Don't be shy."

Like usual, it was the annoying orange-haired guy, Kenta, who came walking toward him, a cocky grin plastered across his face. Eichi paid him no mind, locking the door behind him for a second to quickly perform the necessary hand signs. The genjutsu settled over him like a veil, masking the worst of his scars while leaving the visible ones—the slash across his face and the marks on his hands—unchanged. It was a subtle illusion, one that wouldn't raise too many questions but would keep prying eyes from digging deeper.

He returned, opening the door, and stepped back into the room. Kenta was still there, his grin widening as he looked Eichi up and down. "Took you long enough. What, you hiding something in there? Or are you just that slow?"

Eichi ignored him, walking past without a word. He didn't have time for Kenta's nonsense, and he certainly wasn't going to entertain his attempts to provoke him. The other boys in the room glanced his way, some curious, others indifferent, but none of them said anything. They were too busy getting ready, their conversations filled with excitement and nervous energy about the upcoming practical exercises.

Eichi moved to a corner of the room, away from the others, and began changing into his costume. He glanced at the design—it was simple but effective. Dark grey and navy blue with the crimson Uzumaki swirl on his shoulders. He pulled on his pants, the blunt kunai and weighted stones tucked into pouches on his thighs, easily accessible but not overly conspicuous.

However, before he could put on his shirt, someone shrieked. "What the fuck!"

Eichi's head snapped toward the sound, his instincts immediately on high alert. He quickly checked to see if his genjutsu had broken, but it was still intact, masking the worst of his scars. His gaze landed on the source of the outburst—a boy with black hair, physically unremarkable and otherwise unnoticeable. But what unnerved Eichi were the boy's eyes. They were dark, almost unnaturally so, with a red circle in the center where his pupils should have been.

Eichi felt the headache coming from a mile away. He really, really hoped that wasn't the equivalent of a Sharingan in this world. But as Haru's unsettling red-ringed eyes locked onto him, Eichi's hopes were dashed.

The room fell silent, all eyes now on Haru and Eichi. Kenta, ever the opportunist, smirked and crossed his arms. "Had a crush on our Emo boy eh? Haru."

"You good? Who did this to you?" Haru asked, his voice a mix of shock and concern. His eyes, immune to illusions, saw right through Eichi's genjutsu, revealing the full extent of the scars that crisscrossed his torso and arms.

Of fucking course. Who could've thought that his luck would be so fucked up as to place him in the same school—no, the same class—as someone immune to illusions? And to make matters worse, Haru was a boy, which meant they were bound to cross paths in the P.E. changing room. Eichi's jaw tightened as he fought back the urge to curse his rotten luck.

Haru ignored Kenta, his unsettling gaze still fixed on Eichi. "Seriously, man. Who did this to you? Those scars... they're not normal. Did you get into some kind of accident or something?"

Eichi's mind got fried. He needed to defuse this situation quickly before Haru's questions dug too deep. "It's none of your business," he said, his tone cold and final. "Drop it."

Kenta, sensing an opportunity to stir the pot, chimed in again. "Scars?" He glanced back at Eichi's face and hands, then at Haru, his smirk widening. "Sure, he has some, but nothing that bad. And don't be so nosy. Not everyone wants to share their tragic backstory, you know."

Haru shot Kenta a wide eyed glance. "Can't you see? His chest! His ar-"

Haru could finish his sentence, Eichi's gaze locked onto him and his hands moved, and the room seemed to shift. Haru's vision collapsed, the walls of the changing room crumbling into ash. The world around him dissolved, leaving only Eichi and himself standing in a void of darkness.

Haru's breath hitched as he glanced at Eichi. The boy's face was eerily calm, devoid of emotion, but Haru could feel it—an overwhelming, suffocating wrath radiating from him like a storm. It was as if the air itself had turned heavy, pressing down on Haru's chest.

Eichi's lips moved slowly, each word cutting through the silence like a blade. "Shut. It."

The command was simple, but the weight behind it was unbearable. Haru felt his body freeze, his voice trapped in his throat. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't even breathe. All he could do was stare at Eichi, his red-ringed eyes wide with fear.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the vision shattered. Haru was back in the changing room, the other boys still chatting and getting ready, completely unaware of what had just happened. But Haru wasn't. His face was pale, his body trembling, and sweat dripped down his forehead as if he'd just run a marathon.

Kenta, oblivious to Haru's sudden distress, raised an eyebrow. "What's with you? You look like you just saw a ghost or something."

Haru didn't respond. His eyes darted to Eichi, who was now calmly pulling on his shirt, his expression as neutral as ever. But Haru knew better. He had seen what lay beneath that calm exterior, and it had terrified him to his core.

Eichi didn't even glance at Haru as he finished dressing. He simply adjusted his costume.

Without a word, he turned and walked out of the changing room, leaving Haru standing there, still shaken.

Kenta shrugged, clearly unbothered. "Weirdo," he muttered under his breath before turning back to his own preparations.

Haru, however, couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled in his chest. He had always trusted his Quirk—his ability to see through illusions and perceive the truth. But what he had just seen in Eichi... it didn't make sense. Eichi was supposed to have a straightforward Quirk, something simple like Enhanced Strength. But what Haru had sensed—no, felt—was something far more complex. Something dangerous.

The scars, the way Eichi carried himself, the sheer intensity of his presence—it all pointed to someone who had been through far more than anyone their age should have. And then there was that moment, that brief but terrifying vision Eichi had forced upon him. Haru had never experienced anything like it. It wasn't just an illusion; it was a warning. A clear, unspoken message: Stay out of my business, or else.

Haru's hands trembled as he finished getting dressed, his thoughts a chaotic mess. He had always prided himself on his Quirk, on his ability to create and make thoughts a somewhat a reality. But now, for the first time, he wondered if that ability was more of a curse than a gift. Because what he had seen in Eichi wasn't just a person—it was a force. A force that could crush him without a second thought.

As he stepped out of the changing room and into the hallway, Haru's eyes instinctively searched for Eichi. The boy was already gone, no doubt heading to the P.E. grounds. Haru hesitated, torn between his curiosity and his survival instincts. Part of him wanted to dig deeper, to uncover the truth about Eichi. But the larger, more rational part of him screamed to stay away. To keep his distance. To survive.

For now, Haru decided, he would do just that. He would keep his mouth shut, his head down, and his eyes open. Because whatever Eichi was, he wasn't someone to mess with. And Haru had no intention of finding out what would happen if he pushed too far.

Meanwhile, Eichi walked down the hallway toward the P.E. grounds, his mood as irritavle as ever. He had dealt with Haru—for now. But he knew this wouldn't be the end of it. Haru's Quirk was a problem, one he couldn't afford to ignore. If the boy decided to dig deeper, Eichi would have to take more drastic measures.

For now, though, he had a practical to focus on. And if Haru decided to push his luck again, Eichi would be ready. One way or another.

(A/N: It is my duty to make my MC suffer :)

Also, I know hatsume was 16 in canon, but let's it's her older sister Hatsume nana )