⸺CHAPTER 4⸺
"The Phantom's Ploy"
Date: Wednesday, April 2nd, 2025
Time: 2:04 p.m.
Place: UA Hero Training Dome — Costume Locker Bay --> Battle Grounds Alpha
The locker bay reeked of sweat, deodorant, and the kind of teenage ambition that could spoil milk. I lounged against my locker, perfecting Kai Bagley's trademark slouch—a blend of "I'm above this" and "I might nap through your monologue."
Inside, Luke Horstead's brain was staging a full-blown panic attack. Battle training? The fucc? With kids who shoot lasers and explode walls? ... I'm a glorified therapist -who tries to read faces and words and calls it mind reading-, not a Power Rangers reject.
My Quirkless lie—posing as a "mind-reader" with nothing but sharp instincts and bullshit—had carried me through the Apprehension Test— well not really, but we'll just play along with it— but this was a new level of insanity. I needed to channel something epic. Something… Handa Seishuu, misunderstood to be epic. (Handa Seishuu is a character who was greatly feared and respected for being misunderstood in a similar way to me).
The double doors explodedopen with a gust that rattled the lockers like a poltergeist tantrum. Hedidn't walk in; he manifested, a 7-foot colossus of muscle and star-spangled swagger in a red-white-blue suit. His grin could've sold car insurance to a bicycle, and his jawline looked like it deadlifted Mr Malden (elevator incident) for warm-ups. "I AM HERE!" he thundered, his voice shaking the lights and tables like a YEAT concert. "BE READY TO IGNITE YOUR HEROIC SPIRITS!"
Midoriya's eyes lit up like he'd just won a lifetime supply of All Might merch. Uraraka clapped, her mini ponytail bouncing like a cheerleader's pom-pom. Bakugou, grumbled in the corner, muttered something that sounded like a death threat to joy itself. Me? I flinched—internally, Sam Sulek? This All Might guy should be called All Muscle instead... Externally, I tilted my head, letting my blank stare scream "unimpressed." This guy's louder than a foghorn at a funeral. Luke had dealt with screaming clients, but All Might was a TikTok motivational guru on jet fuel.
"Yo, Bagley," Kaminari whispered, nudging my ribs with his sharp ass elbows, "it's All Might! He's like, ten times cooler up close!"
"Loud," I deadpanned. "Like a monster truck rally in my skull."
Kaminari snorted, then froze as All Might's grin swept the room like a spotlight. "TODAY, YOUNG HEROES," he boomed, fists raised like he was Michael Jackson, "WE LAUNCH INTO BATTLE TRAINING! TEAMS OF TWO—HEROES VERSUS VILLAINS—IN A SIMULATED INDOOR COMBAT ZONE! YOUR MISSION: SECURE OR DEFEND A NUCLEAR PROP! IT'S FAKE, BUT YOUR PASSION MUST BE REAL!"
Mineta raised a hand, his purple-ball head wobbling like a rejected bobblehead. "Uh, real like… we're gonna die?"
All Might laughed. "REAL LIKE DISCIPLINE, YOUNG MINETA! NOW, TO YOUR LOCKERS—YOUR HERO COSTUMES AWAIT!"
The class erupted, students scrambling like midgets in a ice skating rink. Kirishima fist-pumped, yelling about "manly vibes." Midoriya muttered strategies, clutching his notebook like a security blanket. I stayed put, my hand hovering over the keypad. A costume? Luke made coats for middle managers. Kai's dressing for a superhero cage match. My pulse raced, but I punched in the code, letting Kai's muscle memory guide me with that slowed nonchalance.
The locker hissed open, revealing a masterpiece of deception. Not a costume—a persona. A floor-length white coat, gothic and high-collared, with intricate silver embroidery along the hem, billowing like a storm cloud with style. White gloves, tailored to grip without slipping. White boots, reinforced with subtle steel plating, stitched with precision. A white vest and a black shirt, dark enough to swallow egos. And the crown jewel? A black top hat with a silver band, tilted like it knew it was legendary. But the true showstopper was my mask: a smooth, obsidian oval, featureless save for a single, glowing red slit where the right eye would be, pulsing faintly like a cyberpunk omen. Luke, I love you, I love myself... I never thought my designs would arrive so... Kim Dokja-ish? But hey, it has it's own twists so I'm not complaining...
I tracedthe coat's embroidery, Luke's designer brain humming. Flawless seams, lightweight Kevlar blend, mobility without sacrificing flair. This wasn't just a costume; it was my identity—a lie woven into fabric to hide my Quirkless truth. I dressed slowly, the coat settling over my shoulders like a cape, the mask clicking into place with a soft hum. Kai Bagley was gone. I became… something else.
I became... Lukai.
Time: 2:25 p.m.
Place: Outside the Locker Room
The class spilled out, a carnival of superhero dreams and questionable taste.
Midoriya's green bodysuit screamed "mom's knitting circle," bunny ears flopping with every step— cute.
Kaminari's yellow-black tracksuit had lightning bolts like he was shilling for a budget Pikachu cosplay.
Bakugou's outfit was a warzone of spiky grenades and emotional imbalance from hormones.
Mineta's purple diaper-thing had him looking like a Kool-Aid mascot, complete with sticky decals. Buddy, your dignity called—it's not coming back.
Then I emerged.
The coat swept the floor, silver threads catching the light like moonlight on a vampire's blade... The top hat tilted forward, shadowing my faceless front. The mask's red slit glowed, a single, unblinking eye staring through the crowd. My boots clicked, deliberate, like a duelist pacing for a showdown. The class went dead quiet, like I'd just summoned a fog machine and a choir.
Midoriya dropped his water bottle, stammering, "B-Bagley?!"
Uraraka's jaw hit the floor. "He's like… a gothic superhero-villain!" ...The fuck does that even mean?
Sero whispered to Kaminari, "Is that Bagley or a Inspector Goole?"
Kaminari grinned, wide-eyed. "Dude looks like he steals your secrets and files them in a cursed library." . No promises bud.— Seems like my lie has him on ropes.
Bakugou scoffed, sparks popping. "What's with the emo vampire crap, Top Hat? You auditioning for a haunted house?"
I turned—slowly, like a exorcist savoring the moment. The mask's red slit fixed on him, my voice low and taunting, pure Kakashi-style. "Careful, Sparky. I already know what's ticking in that head of yours. Don't say things you don't mean 'boom-boom'"
He bristled, palms crackling. "Say that again, creep!"
I tilted my hat, unfazed. "Tick. Tock." Please don't explode me, please...I'm just vibes.
Kirishima laughed, slapping Bakugou's shoulder. "Man, Bagley's got you shook!" . Yes Kirihard-on diffuse the situation... You're 'My Hero' now!
Aizawa strolled by, his scarf twitching like it smelled my nonsensea mile away. He stopped, eyeing my mask's glowing eye. "Dramatic," he said, voice drier than a desert. "Intimidation over function?"
I gave a lazy shrug, hand on my hat. "Function's boring. Intimidation's free." Also, it hides my stress sweat and panic. I'm shitting myself right now.— Maybe next time I'll add diapers too... I judged you wrong Mineta. Sorry, ——but not really.
Aizawa's eyes narrowed, but he moved on. Too close, teach. Don't dig.
Time: 2:38 p.m.
Place: Battle Grounds Alpha — Training Facility
All Might toweredover us in the training dome, its steel walls gleaming under harsh lights. The arena beyond was a mock city from the 'Last Of Us' —crumbling buildings, tangled pipes, and shadows begging for ambushes. The air smelled of concrete dust, oil, and the faint tang of Kaminari's static. "MATCH-UPS ARE RANDOM!" All Might declared, waving a clipboard like it was Excalibur. "FIRST BATTLE: TEAM A—IZUKU MIDORIYA AND OCHAKO URARAKA, HEROES! VERSUS TEAM D—KATSUKI BAKUGOU AND TENYA IIDA, VILLAINS!"
Midoriya froze, his bunny ears trembling. Bakugou's grin was a shark's, locked on Midoriya like he owed him blood. Oh, that's a grudge older than my soul. Uraraka gave Midoriya a shaky thumbs-up, her smile braver than her eyes. Iida chopped the air, lecturing about "villainous protocol."
"TO THE CONTROL ROOM!" All Might boomed. "OBSERVE! LEARN! GROW!"
We filed into the glass-walled observation deck, the hum of monitors mixing with Kaminari's nervous sparking. I leaned against a railing, coat swninging like the wind was my paid actor. The mask's red slit reflected the screens, giving me maximum sharingan vibes. Jirou nudged me, her headphone jacks twitching. "You're leaning into this creepy thing way too hard."
I tilted my head. "Am I? Or is the creepiness leaning into me?" Spoiler: I'm terrified and that was WAYYY to cringey.
She smirked, but her eyes were sharp. She's suspicious. Gotta sell the lie harder.
Time: 2:45 p.m.
Place: Observation Room
The screens flared, showing a labyrinth of corridors and industrial chaos. Midoriya crept through like a scared bunny in a haunted house, muttering plans. Uraraka floated debris, turning pipes into floating traps. Iida zoomed past, engines roaring like a drag race. Bakugou was a one-man apocalypse, blasting walls and chasing Midoriya with a vendetta that could've summarised Sasuke's whole vengeance story in 2 episodes .
Explosions shook the arena, smoke clogging the feed. Midoriya dodged, his costume charred, countering with a trap—rubble rigged to collapse. Uraraka secured the "nuclear prop" with her Quirk, floating it out of reach. Bakugou broke free, roaring like a volcano with a personality disorder, but the heroes clinched it—barely. Midoriya limped out, bloodied but grinning. Uraraka bounced, triumphant. Bakugou stormed past, muttering curses that could've peeled paint.
Iida adjusted his glasses, solemn. "Their strategy was chaotic but effective."
I nodded, the mask's red slit glowing. "Midoriya played the terrain like a chessboard." And Bakugou's rage like a screaming pawn. But I wanna keep my life so I'll keep it shut.
Todoroki turned, his heterochromatic eyes piercing. "You predicted their moves, didn't you?"
I let the silence stretch, pure bullshit. "I predict a lot of things." Like my inevitable exposure if we both don't shut up. He stared, unblinking. Please buy the mysterious act, dude.
Mineta, perched on a chair, piped up. "Bet Bagley's mask sees through walls! Or, like, clothes—"
I turned, the red slit locking onto him. "Say that thought outloud, and I'll read your mind to the principal's office."
He yelped, toppling off the chair. Kirishima howled with laughter. Score one for creepy vibes.
Time: 3:15 p.m.
Place: Staging Zone B
All Might clapped, the sound like a meteorimpact. "NEXT MATCH!" He scanned his clipboard, grinning like he'd just invented heroism. "TEAM G—FUMIKAGE TOKOYAMI AND KAI BAGLEY, HEROES! VERSUS TEAM H—KYOKA JIROU AND DENKI KAMINARI, VILLAINS!"
My heart skipped, but I kept my slouch, tilting my hat with a lazy flick. Friends? Great. Now I gotta fake powers without hurting their feelings. Tokoyami nodded, his bird head shadowed like a Poe protagonist. "Let us cast justice into the abyss."
I gave a half-hearted wave. "Sure, let's wing it and sting it." Double pun, baby.
His beak twitched, unamused. Jirou smirked, twirling her headphone jack. "Mind-reader, huh? Bet you know I'm about to rockyour world."
I leaned forward, mask glowing. "I know you're thinking about it, Punk Queen." Please don't, I bruise like a peach.
Kaminari sparked, grinning. "Yo, Phantom, don't ghost us too bad!". STOP HYPING ME UP YOU DUMBASS.
"No promises, Spark Plug," I muttered, striding toward the arena. D1 bullshitting mode: overdrive.
Time: 3:23 p.m.
Place: Combat Zone Zeta
The arena was a gothic nightmare—crumbling concrete walls, rusted pipes dripping mystery liquid, and broken windows letting in slants of dusty light. The air smelled of oil, mold, and staged melodrama, the floor gritty under my boots. Tokoyami moved ahead, his cape billowing like he was born in the same gothic novel as me. "Dark Shadow will scout," he said, summoning a shadowy beast that slithered through the shadows like a nightmare with wings. This Pigeon gets a cool shadow as a quirk and all I get after reincarnating is 2 hemispheres of brain that clash. "Their sound-based Quirk cannot track us everywhere."
"Solid plan," I said, voice muffled by the mask. "I'll trail. Keep it stealthy."No powers, just a fancy coat and a prayer... Does adrenaline count?
We glided through the maze— Well, he glided, I just- lightly stepped?... My boots silent, the coat's embroidery glinting like silver veins. Luke designed for boardrooms; Kai's made for theatrics. A pipe groaned overhead, and my gut pinged—Luke's old instinct for spotting client lies kicking in. I raised a gloved hand. "Hold. Trap incoming." — Please tell me there really is a trap. Otherwise all the spectators in the control room will realise... Please hear my heart oh villanous opponents!
Tokoyami's eyes narrowed. "You sense their intent?"
"Nah," I said, leaning against a wall with Kakashi-level chill. "Just a vibe. And vibes don't lie." Unlike me, constantly.
Right on cue, a pipe crackled. Kaminari's voice echoed: "ZAP 'EM!" Electricity surged, lighting the hall like a budget EDM show. Jirou dropped from a vent, her headphone jacks slashing like sonic daggers. —Thank you god!
"Gotcha, Phantom!" she yelled.
Dark Shadow roared, blocking her strike. Tokoyami held his ground, grunting. I slipped into a side corridor, silent aside from light steps- silent due to not being heavy like Choji... anyways-, spotting a scaffold with a loose steel rod. No Quirk, just ninja vibes. I yanked it free, the metal cold through my glove.
"Tokoyami," I whispered, voice low. "Push 'em back. I'm going full ghost."
"Understood," he said, Dark Shadow surging like a gothic tsunami.
Jirou retreated, startled. Kaminari charged his Quirk, sparks flying—until I stepped from the shadows, rod in hand. I tapped his shoulder, light as a breeze. He spun, eyes wide.
I tilted my hat, the mask's red slit pulsing. "Bang," I said, deadpan.
He froze, then laughed, sparking nervously. "Dude, you're a freakin horror movie!"
Jirou groaned, dodging Dark Shadow. "Kaminari, focus, you idiot!"
Too late. Tokoyami pinned her with a shadow claw, and I "secured" the prop—a foam missile that looked like it belonged in a Bakugo closet. I posedwith it, Jotaro style, coat billowing, hat tilted, like I'd just won an Oscar. Heroes win. No powers required.
Time: 3:45 p.m.
Place: Control Room
We returned to cheers, my coat sweeping the floor like a gothic curtain. All Might's thumbs-up was so vigorousit could've launched a satellite. "BRILLIANT TACTICS, YOUNG BAGLEY AND TOKOYAMI! YOUR PRECISION AND AWARENESS WERE A HEROIC MARVEL!"
Kaminari scratched his head, sparking. "Man, Bagley, you just poofed out of nowhere! You sure your Quirk's not invisibility?"
I leaned back, hands in pockets. "Just mind-reading, Short-circuit." . Lies...Empathy and a lot of sneaking like a rat in New York.
Jirou crossed her arms, smirking. "Creepy empathy. But I'll admit—you're slippery."
I tipped my hat. "High praise from the Queen of Pop." Don't ask how I pulled it off, please.
Midoriya, patchedup from his match, scribbled furiously. "Kai's Quirk must enhance predictive spatial analysis, right? Like a sixth sense for positioning!"... Yea just keep thinking that... Dickhead.
I turned my mask toward him, silent. You're doing my work for me. Aizawa watched from the corner, his scarf twitchinglike it sensed my lies. Gotta keep the mysterious act airtight.
Mineta bounced up, grinning. "Yo, Bagley, that mask's gotta have, like, thermal vision—or night-vision goggles—or—"
I cut him off, voice low. "It sees your detention slip incoming, Kool-Aid boy."
He yelped, tripping over his own feet. Kirishima roared with laughter, slapping Sero's back. "Bagley's got no chill!"
Time: 4:15 p.m.
Place: Locker Bay
The locker bay was chaos—students laughing, groaning, peeling off costumes like they'd run a marathon in green spandex. Bakugou was fury-sulking, his gaze looking like an angry version of Mineta's, probably cursing Midoriya's existence. I sat on a bench, gloves off, the top hat beside me, but the mask stayed on. My muscles screamedfrom all the sneaking.. I fought superheroes and won. No Quirk, just brains and a killer outfit. Luke had survived client meltdowns; Kai Bagley had survived Battle Training. Lukai had become a true hero candidate.
Uraraka flopped next to me, her costume scuffed. "Kai, your outfit's insane! It's like… a vampire detective in a sci-fi novel!"... I just left the changing room, fuck off.
I tilted my head. "Thanks. It's got pockets for all my mysteries." And my crippling impostor syndrome. Maybe I'm the Sussy Baka.— Sorry, won't happen again...
She giggled, wincing as she stretched. "You and Tokoyami were so cool! Did you, like, sense Kaminari's plan before he moved?"
I paused, channeling Sasuke's cryptic charm. "Let's just say some minds are louder than explosions." Like mine, screaming right now. If only you knew. Urakaka or whatever.
Kirishima jogged over, grinning. "Yo, Phantom! Dorm lounge tonight—movie night, snacks, the works! You in?"
I gave a lazy wave. "If I'm feeling heroic. Or bored." Or if Bakugou doesn't murder me first. Of course I'm going... The first time I don't need to pretend to be some hero or mysterious individual with a sick history. Does reincarnation fit that category?
As the class filtered out, I remained, staring at the mask. Its red eye pulsed faintly, reflecting the locker bay's lights. You're not a hero, Kai. You're a liar in a fancy cloak. But I'd won today—wit, timing, theatrics. Luke's cunning, Kai's flair, and a whole lotta bluffing. One more day. Keep the mask on, Lukai.
But how long will I truly be able to wear this mask?