Chapter 7: The Spotlight Swings
The classroom buzzed with leftover laughter, Bakugo's red-faced glare still boring into me from across the room as I settled back into my seat. Keep fuming, I thought, leaning back with my arms crossed. You're yesterday's news now. The bell rang, sharp and shrill, cutting through the chatter like a knife. Heads turned as the door slid open, and Mr. Tanaka stepped in our homeroom teacher, a wiry guy with thinning hair and glasses that always slid down his nose. He shuffled to the front, dropping a stack of papers on his desk with a tired sigh.
"Alright, settle down," he said, voice gruff as he adjusted his glasses. The room quieted, though a few whispers lingered Miki nudging Aiko, Kenji stifling a snort. Mr. Tanaka scanned the class, his gaze landing on me. "Midoriya," he called, eyebrows lifting. "You weren't here yesterday. Care to explain?"
I straightened up, keeping my tone even. Here's the first test, I thought. Let's play it smooth. "My Quirk activated yesterday, sir," I said, meeting his eyes. "I wasn't feeling well after, so I stayed home."
The room went still, like someone hit pause. Mr. Tanaka blinked, pushing his glasses up with a finger. "Your Quirk… activated?" His voice tilted with surprise, and he stepped closer, leaning forward slightly. "At ten years old? That's… unusual. Rare, even."
"Yeah," I said, nodding like it was no big deal. "It just happened. Took me by surprise too." Rare, huh? Good—rare means special. Special means attention.
He tilted his head, curiosity sparking behind those tired eyes. "Well, that's something. I didn't peg you for a late bloomer, Midoriya. What kind of Quirk are we talking about?"
"Telekinesis," I said, letting the word hang for a second. Time to shine, I thought, feeling that itch to show off. "I can move stuff with my mind."
"Telekinesis?" Mr. Tanaka's eyebrows shot up higher, and he rubbed his chin. "That's not a common one. Huh. Well, don't just tell me, show me. Let's see it in action. A little demonstration, if you're up for it."
The class perked up Hana's pencil froze mid-scribble, Kenji leaned forward, even Bakugo's scowl twitched. Perfect, I thought, standing up slow and deliberate. "Sure, sir," I said, stepping to the aisle. Nothing too wild keep it flashy but safe. No fire, just finesse.
I scanned the room, eyes landing on the books stacked on every desk math textbooks, worn and dog-eared, perfect props. I took a breath, focusing that familiar tug in my chest, and reached out with my Quirk. The book on Aiko's desk wobbled first, then lifted, smooth and steady, floating up a meter. Gasps rippled out—Miki's hand shot to her mouth, Kenji's jaw dropped. I didn't stop. With a flick of my mind, I grabbed more—Hana's book, Kenji's, five, ten, a dozen of them rising like a flock of birds.
Let's make it dance, I thought, grinning inside. I waved my hand, slow and theatrical, and the books obeyed—spinning in lazy circles around the room. One swooped low over Taro's head, making him duck with a yelp. Another looped high near the ceiling, brushing the flickering light. I sent a cluster weaving between desks, a tight figure-eight that had Aiko giggling as it zipped past her nose. The air hummed with their motion, pages fluttering like wings, and I stood there, hands in my pockets, letting it play out.
"Holy look at that!" Kenji muttered, craning his neck as a book hovered inches from his face. Miki clapped her hands, bouncing in her seat. "He's like a magician!" Hana's eyes sparkled, tracking the swirl above her. Even Bakugo's lackeys, Taro and Riku, stared, their usual smirks gone slack.
Mr. Tanaka clapped first, a sharp smack of his hands that snapped me out of it. "Well, I'll be damned, Midoriya," he said, grinning wide. "That's impressive! Precision like that on day two? You've got talent, kid." The class joined in, applause popping off—Hana's hands smacking together, Aiko's shy claps, Kenji whooping like it was a show. Bakugo just glowered, arms crossed tighter, but I didn't care. Eat it, hotshot, I thought, giving a small bow before easing the books back down. They settled neat and quiet on their desks, not a page out of place.
"Thank you," I said, flashing a smile as I sat back down. First round of cheers in the bag, I thought, soaking it in. This is what power gets you claps, not kicks.
The morning dragged after that math drills, history notes but when the break bell rang, the shift was instant. Kids didn't scatter like usual. They swarmed. Hana was first, scooting her chair closer with a shy grin. "Izuku, that was so cool!" she said, twirling her pencil. "How'd you do that? Like, with the spinning and everything?"
I leaned back, casual as I could manage. "Just practice," I lied, smirking inside. Practice? More like instinct and a lifetime of anime reruns. "It's not hard once you get the hang of it."
Kenji barged in, elbowing past Aiko to lean on my desk. "Dude, you've been holding out on us! When did this start? Yesterday, for real?"
"Yeah," I said, nodding. "Woke up, stuff started floating. Weird day." Weird life, I thought, but they didn't need that part.
Aiko hovered nearby, tugging at her braid. "So… you can lift anything? Like, big stuff too?" Her voice was soft, but her eyes were wide, curious.
"Pretty much," I said, shrugging. "Books, desks—whatever's not nailed down." Or people, like Bakugo, I added silently, picturing his flailing legs from earlier. That's my little secret for now.
Miki plopped down on Hana's desk, crossing her arms with a grin. "You're, like, a hero already! Are you gonna be famous or what? I'd totally buy an Izuku action figure."
There it is, I thought, that smirk blooming in my mind. Famous. Rich. Right on track. "Maybe," I said, playing it cool. "Gotta get better first. Bigger stuff, flashier moves."
"Flashier than that?!" Kenji laughed, smacking my shoulder. "You had Bakugo sweating up there earlier don't think we didn't see! Man, you're gonna be huge!"
I chuckled, letting it roll off like it was nothing. "He'll get over it." Or he won't, and I'll keep winning, I thought, glancing at Bakugo's empty seat he'd stormed off the second the bell rang, Taro and Riku trailing like lost puppies. Run all you want, pal. Can't outrun this.
Hana tilted her head, her voice dropping softer. "Does it… feel weird? Having a Quirk now, I mean? You were always so quiet."
"A little," I admitted, leaning forward. "But it's good weird. Like I've got something to work with now." Something to climb with, I added silently. Power does make a real difference yesterday's nobody, today's star.
Aiko nodded, like she got it. "Well, it's awesome. You should show it off more! Maybe lift Bakugo again he'd hate that."
The group laughed, Kenji snorting loudest. "Yeah, make him a kite next time!" he said, clapping my back. "You're the boss now, Izuku!"
Boss, I thought, that word sinking in deep. Yeah, I could get used to that. I smiled, letting them chatter around me—questions, jokes, little praises piling up. One demo, and they're hooked. Power flips the script every time. The bell loomed in the distance, but for now, I was king of the break, and it felt damn good.