"Aaaaagh!!! Neighbors, look at this!!!"
"My desk is shaking—what the heck is going on here?!"
"Hey, that's too on point! Chill out!"
Just before the afternoon classes began, Class 1-A buzzed with uproarious laughter. Clusters of students mimicked the spectacle from the cafeteria earlier at lunch, clutching their stomachs as they re-enacted Marumine’s unforgettable performance.
Kaminari Denki leaped onto a desk, adopting Marumine’s signature expression of exaggerated grievance and sorrow, while Sero Hanta dove in as Yaoyorozu, wildly gesturing to try to rein him in.
From the sidelines, Mineta offered unsolicited advice, "The whole point is the obsession with Set Meal A! You’ve got to feel that desperate intensity!"
But it wasn’t merely a matter of cheap humor—the outcome behind the laughter had everyone buzzing.
The impeccable timing and sheer impact that had instantly calmed the panic among hundreds was nothing short of astonishing.
"Honestly, it was kind of cool," someone murmured.
"No way—it seemed absolutely crazy, but the result was perfect!"
"Can you imagine a funnier solution?"
For the students, Tori Marumine was no longer just that lucky guy or a quirkless underachiever.
He was evolving into a delightful oddball—a guy who might be a comedian in his own right, the one who stirs up trouble yet somehow always fixes it. In a high school classroom, a character like that was the life of the party.
"Hey, Class Rep!"
Kirishima grinned and patted Tori hard on the back.
"You could totally be a stand-up comic. Think about it—what you did earlier might just become our class catchphrase!"
"Shut it… my head’s killing me," Tori mumbled, lying face down on his desk. Even as he grumbled, he couldn’t bring himself to despise the banter; it was playful teasing laced with goodwill rather than outright scorn. Sure, it was annoying, but that annoyance was a small price to pay.
"Alright, everyone—class is starting! Get to your seats now!"
Yaoyorozu clapped her hands with the authority of a true class representative. At her command, peals of laughter subsided and the students hurriedly took their seats.
Slide.
The back door creaked open and Aizawa entered, his usually implacable expression weighed down by an unusual gravity.
"Sit down."
In an instant, the classroom’s high spirits fell silent.
"This afternoon’s lesson is a “Rescue” drill. We’re heading to USJ."
"USJ?! That theme park?!"
Uraraka’s eyes lit up with excitement.
"No—it stands for 'Unforeseen Simulation Joint'," Aizawa clarified, jotting the acronym on the chalkboard.
"This is a U.A. training facility designed to simulate every imaginable disaster—from fires and floods to landslides. As heroes, you need to master not just combat, but also rescue skills. Today, we put those skills to the test."
He paused, scanning the room with steely precision.
"But before we proceed..."
Aizawa’s gaze hardened.
"A word about the lunchtime chaos. Marumine’s antics in the cafeteria did help quell a panic, and I acknowledge that," he admitted.
"Ooooh!"
The students whistled and cheered in Tori’s direction.
"However..."
Aizawa’s tone dropped further.
"The method was flawed—disturbing the public, climbing on dining tables, and above all..."
He furrowed his brow.
"Grumbling about your own failures and compromising your dignity as a hero. That kind of behavior is unacceptable. I’m letting it slide this time, but next time, expect disciplinary action."
"Yeaah…" Tori mumbled, though inwardly he thought, ‘Great, disciplinary action means I can doze off during class.’
"Now, change into your costumes and board the bus. We’re moving out."
Even as the bus rumbled along the route, the chatter among the students continued unabated.
Asui Tsuyu leaned toward Uraraka and asked, "Isn’t Marumine’s Quirk just fascinating? Ribbit."
"Hmm? Yeah, I used to think it was just about storing and pulling out your stuff, but apparently, it’s also about drawing attention?"
"Maybe it’s just his personality—always craving the spotlight..."
"No, no. I believe it’s a kind of psychological ability. Everyone in the cafeteria earlier was completely entranced by him,"
Before long, a full-blown discussion dissecting Tori’s Quirk erupted. Meanwhile, the man of the hour, Tori himself, dozed off in the back row with his head resting against the window.
Across from him, Bakugo sat with his arms crossed, staring out the window and silently seething as he replayed the cafeteria incident in his mind.
'That bastard... he lucked out again,' Bakugo thought, unable to accept that such a frivolous, joke-like method could succeed.
Heroes are defined by their power—by overwhelming victory. Yet Marumine’s unorthodox methods continued to yield results, and it grated on Bakugo.
'One day, I’ll crush you with my own strength,' he vowed silently, glancing at Tori’s dozing, foolish face.
Arrival at USJ.
The students stepped off the bus to find a colossal dome-shaped building looming before them, its sheer size leaving them awestruck.
"Whoa! It’s massive!"
"I thought we were going to Universal Studios Japan!"
At the entrance, a hero clad in a costume resembling a space suit, known as Thirteen, waited with a welcoming smile.
"Welcome, everyone! I’m Thirteen, your disaster rescue expert!"
"Wow! I love Thirteen!"
Uraraka practically bounced with excitement.
"Inside, you’ll find a shipwreck zone, a mountain zone, a fire zone, and more—each simulating different disaster scenarios. Today’s lesson is all about using your Quirks to save lives."
As Thirteen continued with his friendly explanation, Aizawa briefly exchanged words with him.
Bzzzt…
Suddenly, the lights inside USJ began to flicker.
The large ceiling fixtures started to go dark one by one, sending erratic sparks through the air.
"Huh? Is there a blackout?"
"Looks like U.A. skipped the electric bill," someone joked.
As the students exchanged uncertain glances, the scene shifted to the central plaza fountain.
The space itself began to warp as black mist crept upward.
A swirling vortex of inky blackness expanded steadily, and from within that dark spiral, shadowy figures—almost human in shape—started to crawl out.
Grotesque, heteromorphic villains emerged, their contorted faces and spiked weapons evoking the image of dangerous thugs.
At the center stood a ghastly figure—a pale man festooned with severed hands—and looming behind him, a massive, black monster with its brain grotesquely exposed.
"Wha... what is that?"
"Are those the robots from the entrance exam?"
"No..."
Aizawa’s eyes widened as he pulled his goggles down, shouting urgently, "Stand back! That isn’t a training exercise!"
The students’ faces drained of color as the gravity of the situation set in.
"Villains...!!!"
Before them, a real disaster—one beyond anything they’d experienced in the cafeteria—unfolded in terrifying detail.
"Sensei! What about the intruder sensors?!"
Yaoyorozu asked breathlessly.
"They are here... but apparently not functioning," Thirteen replied grimly.
"There must be someone among them who can jam signals or disable sensors with their Quirk," he added.
"Then... are we trapped?"
A wave of fear swept through the crowd, far more paralyzing than the midday panic in the cafeteria. These were not playful troublemakers—they were cold, merciless criminals ready to kill.
Down by the plaza, Shigaraki Tomura scratched his neck and muttered, "Where is he... the Symbol of Peace..."
"All Might... I came here to take him down..."
His chilling words echoed under the dome of USJ.
"He’s not here! Kurogiri, what’s going on?!"
Standing beside him, the black mist took on a more defined shape as Kurogiri replied in a measured tone, "According to the schedule, he should be here... but it seems something unexpected has occurred."
"Argh... how frustrating. I journeyed all this way. So then..."
Shigaraki’s red eyes flashed as he glowered up the stairs at the terrified students. "If I crush these little sprouts, maybe All Might will finally show himself?"
With that single, venomous remark, dozens of villains let out bloodcurdling cries and surged toward the students.
"Thirteen! Get the students to safety—contact the school!"
Aizawa bellowed as he sprang down the stairs.
"Sensei! You can’t take them on by yourself! There are too many!"
Iida shouted, but Aizawa didn’t even spare a glance behind him.
"A hero can’t rely on just one trick!"
He whipped his bandages like a lashing whip and dove headfirst into the horde of villains. His hair bristled, and his red eyes blazed as he systematically nullified the villains’ Quirks.
Following Thirteen’s orders, the students tried to make a break for the entrance.
But then.
Swoosh.
The black mist surged forward, sealing off the entrance in an instant.
"Pleasure to meet you. We are the League of Villains. Though it may sound presumptuous, we are here in the hope that the Symbol of Peace, All Might, may take his final breath,"
Kurogiri’s polite yet chilling introduction cut off every escape route.
"Incidentally, it appears All Might isn’t present. Well, that’s of no consequence. My role..."
The black mist swelled even larger.
"...is this."
A dark warp gate yawned open from within his form, poised to swallow the students whole.
"Everyone, scatter!!!"
At that moment, as the black mist rushed in like a tidal wave, Bakugo Katsuki instinctively triggered a powerful explosion, attempting to disperse the mist. In tandem with Kirishima, he charged toward Kurogiri’s tangible form.
"Clear the way, you extra!"
"We’re hitting first!"
Boom! Bam!
The explosion and hardened fists slashed through the mist—but their attacks seemed to vanish into thin air.
"Intimidating... but,"
As Kurogiri’s calm voice echoed, the mist began to close in once again. Even Thirteen had been overwhelmed by a reflected counterattack while trying to deploy his Black Hole. A hopeless encirclement was nearly complete.
Then, it happened.
A peculiar movement caught Bakugo’s eye.
Amid the chaos at the entrance—while everyone was either panicking or locked in combat—one figure remained completely composed.
Tori Marumine stood as an island of calm.
His gaze was fixed not on the thrashing mist, but on a single, empty point in the air.
'That guy...?'
Bakugo blinked in confusion.
Flash—!
Marumine spun around with the fluid grace of a dancer.
Every movement was smooth and deliberate, as if he were performing a carefully choreographed routine. He deftly weaved through the oncoming black mist, slipping past its trajectory by the narrowest margin.
And then.
Thump!!
A dull, resounding impact echoed through the air.
"Gah...!"
A pained groan rent the silence.
The black mist dissipated to reveal Kurogiri’s true form—which, under normal circumstances, should have remained hidden. But there was no choice now.
Marumine’s foot had come crashing down on Kurogiri’s midsection.
At the tip of his shoe, a sharp, elongated iron spike had burst forth, burrowing deep into Kurogiri’s abdomen—just a hair’s breadth away from piercing through completely.
"Huh...?"
Kirishima froze, his expression blank.
He could hardly comprehend what he had witnessed. Kurogiri was supposed to be mere mist, immune to physical blows, right?
But Bakugo had seen it all.
He watched the instant Kurogiri revealed his true form in order to initiate a warp gate attack.
The moment Marumine’s spinning halted, his kick had exploded outward with blinding speed.
For a fleeting second, Bakugo thought he saw Marumine’s kick merge with the force of All Might’s legendary Smash.
That kick was strikingly beautiful and overwhelmingly fast.
If not for that precise moment, Marumine wouldn’t have clinched the victory in an exchange that lasted less than a tenth of a second.
Marumine had clearly anticipated the moment Kurogiri would try to activate his Quirk.
A genius of misdirection, he was adept at manipulating and reading his opponent’s gaze—so much so that any feeble attempt at deception was thoroughly seen through.
Then Marumine spoke, his voice razor-sharp:
"If you honestly thought I’d fall for such amateur misdirection, you’ve insulted me greatly."
His tone was icy, stripped of his usual playful lilt and replaced with a lethal, unyielding resolve.
He shifted his weight and pressed his foot down with relentless force.
"Aaaaagh...!"
The iron spike dug in deeper as Kurogiri’s anguished scream filled the air. Though the black mist writhed and disintegrated in agony, Tori remained immovable.
"Don't move," he warned steadily.
"My foot has no patience. A little more pressure here—and your spine is history."
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