UA's Immortal Teacher

Part 24

Izuku watched with a hidden smile as his students struggled through the tasks he had given them. Those with more physical quirks were doing physical training, like Todoroki regulating two different temperatures at once, and Bakugo keeping small-scale explosions going for as long as he could. Those with mental quirks, like Shinso, were doing tasks that required stretching their minds and really giving them headaches. Well, that was today, anyway. Tomorrow he was planning on having Shinso keep someone under his control for as long as he could and then giving them more and more complex orders.

Much to their credit, the students were all trying hard and doing the tasks laid out for them, no matter how difficult they were. Uraraka's training was just about to get him sick, with all the constant spinning and quick stops and starts. It was helping her, though. If she could have a tolerance for the sickness when she used her quirk, then a huge block with using her quirk would be lifted. And that was what this training camp was all about. These kids may have made huge leaps and bounds with their strategizing and how they structured their movements, but in terms of their quirks they had barely made any progress. Which was to be expected. The kids had already improved so much, this would just really stretch the skills they already had until the rubber band broke and they got past those limits they had.

It was so rewarding to see it happen, like shoving your baby chicks out of the nest and watching them fly at the last possible second. "Shinso, you can stop that exercise now and play chess with me. Opening different pathways in your brain will help you adapt better and retain things with much more clarity. It will be a huge boon to you in the long run if you gain these skills now." Shinso nodded, flipping himself upright from the tree branch, where he had been letting the blood flow to his head to get used to the headachy feeling that came when he used his quirk in large quantities.

Izuku set up the board, laying the pieces out with a satisfying plonk. Shinso sat across from him with an apprehensive look on his face. Izuku smirked internally, knowing he could win in just a few moves if he chose to, but what really needed to happen here was Shinso having the mental strain of facing an opponent at his level, so all he had to do was match Shinso and keep the match going as long as he could. Simple.

They ended up playing for the rest of the training period, and Shinso didn't win a single time. Which was also by design. His student was forced to do the same action each time and give it his all, even though he kept failing over and over again. And Izuku really couldn't teach anything without inadvertently passing along a life lesson. One time he tried to get himself to stop, and... he's still not entirely surrey what happened that day, but there were a lot of flames.

It started to get dark outside, and that's when the Pussycats called them inside to eat. Except the students had to make the meal this time. Izuku walked over to a seat and watched them work, Bakugo barking orders at everyone who would listen, and some that wouldn't listen. The classmates that wouldn't listen Bakugo made listen.

He heard a slight squeak from beside him, and he turned to see Kota next to him, watching the heroes-in-training disdainfully. Which made a whole lot more sense now that Izuku knew who his parents were. It had been a sad day for all who knew them when the Waterhose duo died. But it must have been terrible for Kota.

Izuku had been told that the kid ran away often, Mandalay never knowing where he went, so he made sure not to draw attention to the fact that Kota was sitting there. Instead, he leaned back and grew comfortable in the silence, trusting that if the boy wanted to talk, he would. And for a long time he didn't, just glaring sullenly into the direction of his students. The kid definitely had his death glare down.

Right as Izuku was beginning to doubt that the kid would talk and that wasn't why he had sat down, the boy started to grumble out a question. "All the other adults love to show off their quirks, what's yours anyway?" A bit rude, but Izuku could tell that he was just uncomfortable asking him. Which made sense if he usually relied on adults either bragging about their quirks or using them in front of him to tell what they were. And Izuku couldn't really do the former if he didn't want the boy to have a very traumatizing experience in which he proves he can't die. He already learned his lesson on that one. No showing kids that stabbing yourself in the heart doesn't do anything.