The sun hung low in the sky as Takuma stood alone in one of U.A.'s off-campus training lots—reinforced, isolated, and battered by years of Quirk abuse. The jagged pits in the ground told their own story.
He rolled his sleeves back, feeling the grit along his arms from a long day of training. The silence here was comforting. There was no chaos here, no distractions, no one to harm if his powers got out of control.
He exhaled slowly. "Let's push it."
With a twist of his heel and a low surge of power, the ground beneath him cracked. Splintered lines spread through the ground beneath his feet like a spiderweb coming to life. With a steady thrust of a palm, the concrete fragments came to life amidst glowing orange energy, rising into the air like angry elementals.
Takuma went through the motions, making a defensive barrier, shaping the fragments into makeshift weapons, controlling each fragment separately and firing them off like bullets, which shattered and always penetrated their targets, the energy acting to burrow them into whatever surface they came across.
Letting them fall, he shifted to metal next. Luckily for him, there were still shattered robots left behind by the last person to use the room, likely Bakugo as seen by the scorch marks and heavily deformed panels.
Metal was both easier and harder to use that concrete. Easier in that it was much less...chaos to control, and harder in that it generally resisted being bent and reshaped. Concrete usually acted like a gravitational force, allowing it to control hundreds of floating fragments individually, while Metal didn't require such a thing if not on purpose.
Today, Takuma focused on his fine control, constantly reshaping multiple pieces of rebar into fine shapes while also protecting himself from the level one robots back from the exam. The latter was horrendously simple, but when combined with a focus heavy activity such as the former, it became incredibly hard to accomplish, and by the end of the session, he'd only managed to make very simple sculptures of heroes like All Might and Endeavor.
The only other element he currently had control over was smoke, but he didn't really want to use it in such a confined environment. While he was immune to the effects it usually brings, like the heat or restricting his vision, he can't save himself from the indirect effects.
In short:
Takuma took a deep breath of the air, allowing himself a small smile when the ocean breeze passed through his hair. "This is the perfect place to practice my smoke without passing out again."
He'd learned that lesson the hard way.
He shook his head rapidly. "Okay, I really want to see just how powerful I can be with smoke...and maybe how fast I can be."
Takuma started with his usual methods of manipulation: constantly filling the area with smoke while moving through the simple forms of martial arts he'd learned. This is the simplest way I can use my smoke, restricting my opponent's vision and possibly also allowing me to knock them out via asphyxiation. I should be extra careful when using this in populated areas, less I injure a civilian.
While possibly not the most willing of hero students, Takuma was always serious about something when he set his mind on it, and if he was going to be a hero...He would be the best one he could be.
"...But no one's going to force a smile on my face."
The only other thing he wanted to work on was his combustion that happened when he condensed the smoke. The beach was also one of the most perfect places to do such a thing, as more likely than not, the damage would repair itself.
Moving towards the water, Takuma did something that was, admittedly, stupid. Condensing nearly all the smoke he had left in him, he curled it into an increasingly hot, glowing, orb of smog and bright red embers that also began vibrating heavily.
Wiping the sweat that had appeared on his forehead, he moved the orb to the tip of his fingers, using them to aim as if he weas holding a gun. Then, with too big of a smile to be called calm, he shot it off.
It rocketed across the surface of the water for a shot moment, dying the area it touched a grainy gray color, then...
BOOM
It burst into a rather large explosion, painting the air with a dark smog filled with glowing embers that slowly drifted down to the surface, which was still rocking with the force of the explosion. A few onlookers nearby turned their heads in a panic, only to sigh in relief when they saw it was just a kid testing his quirk on the beach.
"Hey kid, no more of that or I'll have to bring you in!" Takuma turned his head to see an officer looking up over a half-eaten burger and a coffee cup, and smiled sheepishly, nodding.
---
"Takuma. You're home late."
"Training," he replied, reaching for a glass of water. "Needed to figure something out."
She raised an eyebrow. "By blowing yourself up again?"
He paused mid-sip. "…Define 'again.'"
That earned a tired laugh from her. She tapped the spoon against the edge of the pan. "You know, I used to worry when you went out to fight villains. Now I worry when you train."
He leaned against the counter, gaze softening slightly. "I'm not trying to scare you. I just... I have to understand it. The more I do, the less dangerous I am to others."
"Or the more danger you end up in yourself." she said, quieter this time.
There was a long pause.
Takuma glanced at the clock. "Dinner smells good."
She set two bowls down without a word.
Over the quiet clinking of chopsticks, she finally asked, "Are you… making any friends?"
He blinked. "What brought that on?"
"You used to eat in silence. Now you listen to music in your room. You smile more when your phone goes off."
He scratched the back of his neck, cheeks warming. "Someone sent me a song or two."
His mother smiled faintly. "A girl?"
"…Possibly."
They finished eating in a more comfortable silence. Afterward, he helped wash the dishes, drying each one with almost too much precision. When he finally retreated to his room, he tossed his phone onto the bed and collapsed beside it.
A buzz.
[Jirou Kyoka]: Still training? Or have you decided to study bioengineering again today?
[Takuma]: Half-dead. But awake enough to check your music. Thanks, It helped.
A pause, then a reply.
[Jirou Kyoka]: That's surprisingly nice. I expected more 'I'm Billy Badass and I have to act cool and collected.'
He allowed himself a faint smirk.
[Takuma]: Only 80% of the time.
[Jirou Kyoka]: Guess that makes you 20% tolerable. Good night, Itsuno.
[Takuma]: Goodnight. And call me Takuma.
Three dots appeared...disappeared...reappeared...Takuma smiled faintly at what he assumed to be her panicking, but eventually she landed on something to say.
[Jirou Kyoka]: Then call me Kyoka. See you tomorrow!
He stared at that last message for a moment longer, then locked the screen.
Tomorrow would bring the 2v2 battle training—and Takuma's turn to show what he could do under pressure.
But tonight, he allowed himself something simple.
Stillness.