MHA: The Lawbreaker

The first time Kaito Arakawa broke reality, he was six years old.

It was a quiet evening in the house that never felt like home. His father sat at his desk, hunched over his research, eyes scanning lines of code. This was his father's world, where Kaito existed only as an afterthought.

Kaito didn't remember what he had been reaching for. Maybe a book. Maybe the clock his mother once owned, the only trace of her left in the house. But his fingers slipped, and gravity—the ever-present, unyielding force—simply ceased to exist.

For three seconds, the world forgot its own rules.

The book didn't fall. The papers on his father's desk hovered. His father himself, chair tilting precariously, floated an inch above the ground before slamming back down with a violent jolt as reality snapped back into place.

The silence afterward was suffocating.

His father's hands clenched around the armrests. He turned, slowly, staring at Kaito for the first time in weeks. Not in awe. Not in fear. Just… studying him.

"You used your Quirk," he said flatly.

Kaito didn't answer. He wasn't sure what to say.

His father's gaze lingered for a moment longer, then he turned back to his work, muttering under his breath. "Figures."

That was it. No shock, no questions. No concern. Kaito didn't understand why it hurt so much.

He found the limits—how far, how long, how much reality he could erase before it fought back. Gravity was easy. Friction was trickier. The laws of motion? They screamed when he broke them, but they still bent to his will. 

Yet, no matter how much he pushed himself, his father never looked at him differently.

Never looked at him at all.

The years that followed blurred together. Days spent in silence. Nights spent testing his limits. He waited and waited for just a single word from his father.

Kaito stopped trying to reach his father and stopped waiting for approval, which never came. Now, he was 14, about to enter high school, and still had not a single flicker of love. Growing up, he didn't have many friends—well, none at all. 

Kaito never cared much for people.

Not because he hated them—he just didn't see the point. How could he know to give something when he was never given it himself? The backstory's done, now how about we get to the plot?

{Aldera Junior High} [1st POV]

Aldera was exactly what you'd expect from a no-name junior high school in a city full of future nobodies. The halls smelled like sweat and cheap disinfectant, the fluorescent lights flickered just enough to be annoying, and the teachers had long since given up on half the students.

I didn't mind. It made it easy to blend in.

I sat in the back of the classroom, feet propped up against the desk, letting the noise around me fade into the background. The usual nonsense. Some kid bragging about his Quirk. Someone else whining about an upcoming test. The teacher hadn't even shown up yet—not that it mattered.

"Oi, Kaito," a voice called. "You still planning to be a nobody after graduation?"

I barely turned my head. Just another classmate whose name I never bothered to remember.

"You gonna get a job at some convenience store?" he pressed, grinning like he thought he was funny. "Or are you just gonna disappear like always?"

Disappear, huh? If only he knew how close he was to the truth.

I held his stare for a second longer, then went back to staring at the ceiling. "Sounds like a plan."

His grin faltered. I could tell he wanted more of a reaction, but I wasn't going to give him one. He huffed and walked off, muttering something about me being a freak.

Didn't bother me. Not like I planned to see any of these people again after today.

A few seats away, Izuku Midoriya sat hunched over his notebook, scribbling as usual. The guy was always writing something—notes about heroes, Quirks, strategies. He never talked much, but I knew better than to mistake his quiet nature for weakness. Unlike the others in this school, I actually noticed things.

Midoriya wasn't as pathetic as everyone assumed. There was something off about him. Something he was hiding.

And if there was one thing I understood, it was hiding.

The classroom door slid open, and our teacher strolled in, holding a stack of papers under one arm. "Alright, quiet down," he said, not even trying to sound interested. "It's time to talk about your futures."

A few students groaned. Someone muttered, "Like we have a choice." They did, actually. Just not the kind they wanted. I thought in the back of my mind.

I leaned back, letting the words wash over me. I already knew what was coming. Every year, this speech was the same.

"As you know, some of you will go to high school, some will go straight into the workforce, and some—" The teacher smirked. "—are even aiming for U.A."

That got the room's attention. A few students perked up. Others rolled their eyes. U.A. was the hero school, and everyone knew it was impossible to get into. Aldera hadn't had a successful applicant in years.

"Bakugo Katsuki," the teacher continued, "I see you applied for U.A."

I sighed inwardly. Here we go.

Bakugo leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, smug as hell. "Damn right," he said. "I'll be the only one from this garbage school to make it."

A few kids muttered in agreement. Bakugo had a strong Quirk—something flashy, something explosive. People liked that.

"Actually," the teacher said, flipping through his papers, "it looks like there are two more U.A. applicants."

The room went silent.

Bakugo's smirk vanished. "Two?"

"Midoriya Izuku."

The classroom exploded.

"What?!"

"No way—Midoriya?!"

"Quirkless Deku?"

"Is that a mistake?"

I didn't react, but I watched. Midoriya flinched at the outburst, gripping his notebook tightly, but he didn't say anything. He didn't even deny it.

Bakugo's chair screeched against the floor as he stood, fury radiating off him. "You gotta be kidding me!" He whirled on Midoriya, his expression twisted in disbelief. "You think you—you—have what it takes for U.A.? What, you planning to be their janitor?"

Midoriya didn't respond.

Something flickered in his eyes, though. Not fear. Not shame.

Something else.

I made a mental note of it. He had an aura, something that attracts... no homo.

"And the other applicant…" The teacher flipped to the next page. "Arakawa Kaito."

The whispers came to a halt.

Now, that got me to blink.

"What?"

The teacher shrugged. "Your application was submitted."

I didn't move. Didn't react. But my mind was already racing. There was only one person who could've done this.

Damn it.

Bakugo's attention snapped to me now. He looked livid. Absolutely having a 'blast'.

"That loser too?!" He jabbed a finger at me. "You telling me he's going to U.A.?"

I tilted my head. "Apparently." 

I clicked my tongue. "Why would you care, Bakugo? I'm pretty sure that our participation wouldn't lessen your chance at U.A., or are you afraid of peer pressure, is that it?"

Bakugo's eye twitched, and for a second, I thought he was actually going to blow something up. Wouldn't be the first time. He took a sharp step forward, but I just stared back, unimpressed.

"You think you're funny, Arakawa?" he growled.

"I think I'm observant," I replied lazily, kicking my feet off the desk and sitting up. "And right now, it looks like you're all worked up over nothing." 

"Can't even control a quirkless kid such as Izuku, tsk, tsk, future number one hero~."

Bakugo's lips curled into a snarl. "The hell did you just say?"

I shrugged, resting my chin on my palm. "You heard me. You like to act like you're better than everyone else, but when someone doesn't play along, you lose your shit. Makes me wonder—how fragile is that ego of yours?"

The class collectively held their breath. A few students snickered, but most just looked between us like they were waiting for the room to explode. Which, given Bakugo's temper, wasn't an unreasonable expectation.

His fists clenched, tiny sparks crackling at his palms. "You think you're some big shot now? Just 'cause you're applying to U.A.?"

"Nope." I leaned back, stretching my arms. "I just think it's funny how rattled you are over something that has nothing to do with you."

Bakugo took a step forward, the heat from his hands growing more intense. "You wanna say that again?"

I tilted my head, staring at him like he was a particularly dull puzzle. "Sure. You're rattled. Annoyed. Insecure, maybe?" I smirked. "It's okay, Bakugo. U.A. has a great counseling program."

He moved before I finished speaking. Typical. His hands shot forward, an explosion primed and ready—but he stopped. Not by choice.

His body jerked to a sudden halt, I smirked as I giggled internally, the First Law (Inertia) – Objects in motion stay in motion, and objects at rest stay at rest unless acted upon by an external force.

"What the—?"

I just grinned, propping my chin up again. "Better watch your temper. You never know when the world might just stop playing along."

He stared at me, eyes narrowed. He didn't know what had happened. None of them did. But they felt it.

And that was enough.

The teacher cleared his throat, finally deciding to intervene. "That's enough, you two. Sit down, Bakugo."

For a second, I thought he was going to ignore him. But then Bakugo clicked his tongue, sending one last glare my way before dropping back into his seat. The tension in the room didn't fade, though. People were still watching me.

I ignored them.

Midoriya, though? He wasn't looking at me like the others were. There was no shock. No confusion. Just quiet calculation, like he was piecing something together.

He knew something.

Interesting.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Bakugo kept throwing glances my way, but he didn't try anything else. Midoriya stayed quiet, though I caught him eyeing me a few times. The other students mostly kept their distance.

Fine by me.

When the final bell rang, I was the first out the door. I had no intention of sticking around. I had more important things to deal with.

Like the man waiting outside the school gates.

He stood with his hands in his pockets, his posture relaxed. Sharp features, silver-streaked hair, an expression that barely shifted. He looked like he belonged in a high-rise office, not standing in front of a rundown junior high school.

I stopped a few feet away, glaring. "You did it."

Arakawa Renji glanced at me, his expression unreadable. "I did."

"Why?"

He tilted his head slightly, as if the answer should've been obvious. "Because it's the best path for you."

I scoffed. "The best path? You haven't cared about my 'path' in years."

"That's not true."

"The hell it isn't." I crossed my arms. "You signed me up for U.A. without even telling me. What, trying to turn me into some kind of pet project now?"

He sighed, looking more tired than usual. "I did what needed to be done. Your potential is wasted here."

I clenched my jaw. "You don't get to decide that."

"Perhaps." He met my gaze evenly. "But you will go."

I let out a short laugh. "And if I don't?"

"Then you waste your gift." He said it simply, as if it was a fact, not an opinion. "And that would be… disappointing."

My fingers twitched at my sides.

There it was. Not anger. Not pride. Not even expectations.

Just disappointment.

I forced my expression to stay blank. "Whatever."

He didn't react, just turned. "I'll expect you home soon."

And then he walked away.

I watched as my father disappeared into the distance, his words lingering like a bad taste in my mouth.

"Your potential is wasted here."

He didn't care about me—just what I could do. Just what I was capable of.

I exhaled sharply through my nose and turned on my heel, walking in the opposite direction of home.

I needed to think.

Aldera was a dump, but the rooftops had always been quiet. A perfect place to disappear. I scaled a fire escape, boots hitting rusted metal as I pulled myself up.

The city stretched below, a mess of flickering streetlights and neon signs. People moving like ants, each caught up in their own pointless struggles.

U.A. …

I hadn't planned on going. Didn't even care about being a hero. But now? Now, it wasn't just about me.

Someone—my father—was trying to decide my future for me.

And that pissed me off.

I leaned back against the railing, staring at the skyline.

It wasn't like I couldn't get in. That wasn't the issue. My Quirk was practically designed to break the rules. But did I want to?

My thoughts were interrupted by a quiet voice below.

"… Arakawa."

I glanced down.

Midoriya stood at the base of the fire escape, looking up at me.

Huh.

I hadn't expected him to follow me.

I raised an eyebrow. "What do you want?"

He hesitated. Looked around like he was checking for eavesdroppers. Then took a step closer.

"You… did something in class, didn't you?"

"I saw it," he continued. "Bakugo didn't stop on his own. His body froze mid-motion. That's not a normal reaction."

I gave him a slow clap. "Congrats. You figured out that I have a Quirk. Gold star. Actually, screw that, Platinum Star."