No Claws for this Cat [Yusaku]

Although Naoru had no trouble with the small crowd the student body of the school made in the cafeteria and the rest of the school grounds anymore, the sports festival proved to be something else entirely. With the amount of unfamiliar faces around, he was getting more and more restless while navigating the halls or the garden. It reminded him much of his first few days at school when he turned and ran whenever someone so much as looked at him funny. Although he wasn’t that skittish anymore, partially due to the fact he did not feel the need to hide his quirk, he was still more panicky and anxious than on a normal day.

This panic and anxiety was what drove him to the training grounds for the majority of his days. Knowing he would just break glasses and pencils if he stayed in a crowd for too long out of sheer discomfort, he decided it is better to help his body accommodate to the growth of his quirk instead. He only took a few minutes in his dorm room and changing into the standard U.A. gym uniform before heading out to the training area. He pulled on the black gloves that were nearly his signature items by now. They hugged his hands neatly. Unlike before, he did not use his full-arm gloves to hide his mutation though. Under the sleeves of his uniform, the dark red, marble-like left arm was fully visible. The feathers under his hairline were sticking out, and the reddish stigma was fully visible on the left side of his cheek. Those were all signs of his mutation, but only those, as his true eye-color was hidden yet again behind a pair of grey contacts.

The training grounds were less busy on the early afternoon, as most people decided it was unhealthy to do training right after lunch. Naoru only had a little to eat, being the rare quirker who had no need to consume more nutrients than a normal human, so he saw no problem doing physical exercise right after. He probably wouldn’t gain too much attention if he went out now anyway, considering some of the students liked to bloat their quirks, being as flashy as possible to show off a little bit. Naoru had actual training in mind.

His Aura was out and about, which made him just a tad bit calmer than when he had to willingly surpass it. The white substance covered both his arms, shoulders and shoulder-blades, appearing to be no different than a piece of clothing, as if Naoru was wearing a strange bolero over his training uniform. This was one of the forms he liked to give his quirk in a resting state. It was unassuming, but still present. It was motionless during the time he did the warm-up exercises, but once he stood in between a few lower classed training drones, there was the tiniest shift on his left arm. The fingers on his left hand elongated just a tad bit, forming claws instead of regular fingers, but the change was so miniscule people would hardly notice it. It just happened from time to time. A reminder that the arm was no longer made of flesh.

During the military camp, Naoru realized he didn’t only need to harmonize his body to his Aura, but he also needed to learn a certain level of skill in fighting to be able to take his mutated body into account. For that, he will need a style, his own style of hand-to-hand combat, and for that, he needed actual practice. He was somewhat worried about going to the martial arts club, or asking Darren specifically for help, afraid he would just trouble his classmate. So the next logical conclusion was to search for indications online, and then practice alone. It had questionable use, and about that much efficiency.

Hitting the drones with his palms instead of his fists, Naoru moved around the little square with dexterous, fluid movements, making sure to hit his opponents and deflect blows coming his way. If nothing else, he had the ability to make his movements unpredictable with the amount of agility he possessed. While he wasn’t fast, his dexterity made his body graceful and solid on his footing, and gave his blows the image of a white snake lashing out.

In his imagination, the dummies gained the form of a person mutated into a bull, another a woman with her muscles bloating and tearing under pressure, one a cloaked and masked figure with a smile made of neon light, and a little girl that appeared innocent even though she was already probing his mind for answers.

Let me out.

He paid no attention to the little girl, and attacked the woman instead, he hit her left shoulder, then her head, and then moved away from a retaliating kick before turning to the bull. Another hit to the head and to the middle of its torso would send it stumbling backward, which gave him time to turn toward the one with the neon-smile.

That smile was dripping with blood, and Naoru wouldn’t let it spill more – let me out – so he was ready to take blows and retaliate in a quick succession if needed, hitting the arms, the head and the arms again, punching the side, the front, and anywhere he could reach – let me out – preventing the opponent from using their quirk, but even if they did, he cared not, before he remembered a little girl being beaten to death and---

The drone’s head was sent flying, and the sudden crack that resonated through his ears snapped him out of whatever hallucination he found himself in. A few eyes turned to him, his slightly panting form as he was coming down from the momentary rush of adrenaline. Looking down, his left hand formed into claws fully, resembling the arm of a beast. His Aura covered his whole upper body now, like a coat.

He circled around the damaged dummy, and looked towards where the broken head fell. “I am sorry. I hope I did not hit anyone.”