Izuku Midoriya stood front and center with a ball in his hand.
The very air was carrying electric tension that seemed to be originating from the boy.
Slowly, the boys nervous demeaner shifted to one of reckless abandon.
He threw. The ball shot forward.
Thump
"46 meters." Aizawa said, sounding almost bored.
Midoriya's face collapsed. The boy stared at his hands as if they had betrayed him, any previously gathered determination withering away by the millisecond.
"Your quirk." Aizawa began to say, still bored. "I erased it. Honestly the entrance exam is completely illogical for letting someone like you in."
Izuku's eyes widened. Even in the depths of despair, his fanboy mind remained running. "You! You're Eraserhead!"
The man completely ignored his name being called out and walked towards Izuku.
"I've seen how you use that quirk. Were you hoping someone would fix you up after? You're method only serves to inconvenience those around you. I know of a man with the same reckless abandon you have. He saved a thousand people in a day. On the other hand, you become a liability after saving one. Pathetic."
Izuku couldn't manage to form a response.
Aizawa blinked. "There's your quirk back. Two more chances and you're out."
Meanwhile, the rest of class 1A talked amongst themselves.
Bakugo snorted. "About time things return to their natural order."
Arthur stared at the boy curiously. A hero who can't use his quirk? How strange.
Izuku stared at the ball in his hand and took a deep breath.
I can't regulate my power yet. It's all or nothing, but my all breaks my body. What do I do?
His eyes widened.
Izuku Midoriya was a boy who had spent more time analysing quirks than any other student in the building. A boy who had filled notebooks upon notebooks of their application. One for All, to him, was more than a quirk. It was a divine blessing, a inheritance from All Might. Yet for a mere moment, the boy's mind pushed by the threat of expulsion began treating it how it should be treated – as a tool.
Not yet! I'm not done yet!
He repeated the throwing motion he had done earlier, down to every last detail save for one.
All for One was still inactive.
His hand opened, the ball moved forward no longer touching his palm
A finger left.
ALL FOR ONE ONE HUNDRED PERCENT!
The power of the quirk poured into his finger alone.
BOOM!
The ball sped away from him.
Aizawa felt goosebumps erupt on his skin. A grin forced its way onto his face.
"This boy…"
He looked down onto the tablet.
705.3 m
"YOU SEE THAT TEACHER?" Izuku yelled, his whole body shaking. "I CAN STILL MOVE!"
An inspirational scene for any who would witness it, save for one.
Katsuki Bakugo stared at Izuku like he had committed a murder.
In a way, he had done exactly that.
A quirk? Where? When? How?
A wire snapped in his head.
He found himself meters ahead, blasting himself towards Izuku.
"WHAT THE HELL DEKU! EXPLAIN YOURSELF!" The words escaped his mouth before he could even think.
He was getting close.
Just a bit more… YANK.
He wheezed.
His body was surrounded by capture tape.
When?
"Calm yourself kid." Aizawa said, his eyes fully open. "My eyes are getting dry."
It took a minute before Bakugo stopped struggling, yet his expression never changed.
LIAR. LIAR. HOW DARE HE.
Aizawa sighed. "What a waste of time. Class over."
…
Arthur was making his way to the school gates, when he found himself walking beside Bakugo. Sparing a brief indifferent glance at the boy, Arthur sped up his pace and got a few steps ahead of him.
A moment passed of the two boys walking in silence.
Bakugo sped up and crossed Arthur.
Another moment passed.
Arthur, now moving his feet in what was an awkward phase between a walk and a jog, went past Bakugo.
The gates were close now.
Bakugo broke into a light jog and gained distance.
Arthur furrowed his brows and broke into a graceful sprint, trying his best to make it appear effortless.
Sensing the boy fast on his heels, Bakugo followed suit.
The gates were drew closer still, Arthur was almost tied with Bakugo now, his shoulders nearly level with him.
A third competitor entered the race.
Kirishima had been a few paces behind the boys, reviewing the day. Looking ahead, he saw Arthur speed up. Then Bakugo. Then Arthur again. Bakugo. Arthur. Bakugo.
Are they… racing?
That's seriously MANLY.
You don't question it when you hand a starving man food and he eats. You don't question it when you hand a child a toy and he plays with it. You certainly do not question it when you put a manly competition in front of Kirishima, and he squeezes his way in.
Right here. Right now. I'll prove how manly I am! I'll prove it to myself! I CAN CHANGE!
He ran past the space between the boys, all pretense of dignity abandoned, face red with exertion.
The original runners processed the new arrival immediately. No longer bothering with appearing nonchalant, they pushed their legs to the max.
Three desperate roars filled the air.
Kirishima stayed ahead.
An idea wormed its way into Bakugo's head. His eyes glinted.
Hands towards Kirishima, Bakugo snatched his collar, trying to pull him back. Unfortunately, Arthur had had the same idea – except his target was the one he considered a devil.
Three boys ran, the first with his collar grabbed by one behind him, and the one behind him having the back of his shirt grabbed as well.
Both aggressors pulled at the same time. In the short instant between disaster, all three boys realized what was going to happen. Yet, the first to chicken out would inevitably be the last.
Bakugo didn't let go. Neither did Arthur.
Thud.
Thud.
THUD.
Dust rose from the ground.
What remained of the event was a pile of sweaty boys lying in front of the school gates, entangled with each other.
"Why must you insist on getting in my way, devil?" Arthur hissed.
Whatever was left of Bakugo's composure finally snapped. "YOU WERE THE ONE IN MY WAY, YOU BOWTIE BLOND!"
Bakugo's free hand went and pulled Arthur's hair.
"Who're you calling a bowtie blondie? You retarded porcupine!" Arthur yelled, his face angled upwards from having his hair pulled.
The boy used whatever space he had to pinch Bakugo's back.
"OW!" The boy yelped, still holding onto the hair.
Kirishima, at the bottom of the pile, groaned in pain as the two above him shifted.
"Hey! Hurting the winner of the race isn't manly at all!"
The boys froze.
"Winner?" Bakugo asked.
"Of the race?" Arthur echoed.
"LIKE HELL YOU ARE!"
"When pigs fly!"
"But I was in the front though!" Kirishima protested. "Being sore losers isn't manly either!"
"FUCK YOU! I'LL MAKE SURE THERE ISN'T A SINGLE MUSCLE ON THAT BODY OF YOURS THAT ISN'T SORE!"
"It seems the devil and his thrall must both be vanquished."
"Hell yeah! Nothing's more manly than a brawl."
…
The three boys found themselves outside the school after being kicked out by a man that appeared to be made of cement.
Arthur and Bakugo scowled at each other harder than a messily broken up couple. Kirishima sat in the center, smiling at what he considered the start of many other manly competitions.
"Devil, I still haven't forgiven you for your audacity to touch my knightly hair!" Arthur finally said. "Your transgressions shall be met with swift justice!"
Bakugo's glare deepened – if that was even possible. "Devil this devil that! I'm a hero damn it! The strongest one at that!"
Arthur snorted. "A hero, eh? What a modest goal. Knights are far cooler."
Both Bakugo and Kirishima turned as still as stone.
"But Arthur…" Kirishima began. "You do know, heroes are cooler right?"
"You're damn right they are!" Bakugo muttered under his breath.
Arthur blinked. What? Come to think of it, Lida said that a lot too.
"Really?" Arthur asked tentatively.
Kirishima nodded vigorously. "I mean think about it! Have you ever seen anyone else say they want to be a knight? Everyone wants to be a hero 'cuz its cooler!"
Arthur's face contorted. "I assumed it was because you plebeians realized the goal was beyond your grasp."
Bakugo snorted. "If its within your retarded grasp, even that useless Deku could reach it."
On the surface, Arthur looked confused.
Inside, however, he was far from calm.
What? How did I not realize this before? I LOVED KNIGHTS BECAUSE THEY'RE THE COOLEST. THEY ARE… but then why am I the only one who thinks so? Am I wrong? No! Impossible. If people think knights aren't cool enough, I'll go even higher! I'll become so cool, I'll be incomparable to a lame hero!
Arthur got up. His sword was on his hip. Taking it off, with its custom sheath still attached, he thrust it onto the ground.
"If that is truly the case, then I shall go beyond even a hero!"
"From today onwards, I am no longer Sir Arthur Boyle the knight!"
"My name is Arthur Boyle. I AM THE KNIGHT KING!"