MHA: Mortal Kombat System

The morning sun peeked through the window blinds of Reiji's dorm, casting streaks of light across his blanket. He sat up slowly, rubbing the side of his neck where a faint tingling sensation lingered—like the echo of static still crawling just beneath his skin. It wasn't painful, just unsettling. Static sparks danced at the tips of his fingers—faint but persistent.

The Raiden template had taken hold.

He stared at his hand for a long moment, watching the small arcs crackle softly between his fingers. They didn't hurt, but they carried a hum—one that vibrated in his bones, electric and alive. With a breath, he quickly reached for the gloves on his desk. Tightening them over his fingers, he exhaled. No one can see this. Not yet.

The hallways of Heights Alliance were filled with the early stirrings of students getting ready. As Reiji stepped into the 1-A common area, the familiar buzz of morning chatter hit him like a warm gust. Kaminari, halfway through biting into a piece of toast, noticed him first.

"Whoa! Gloves now? Trying to bite my style, Reiji?" he grinned, wiggling his own fingers for emphasis.

Reiji gave a dry smirk. "Maybe I'm just cold. Or maybe I think your fashion sense is finally rubbing off on me."

Kaminari chuckled. "Careful, people might start calling us the Electric Duo."

Reiji chuckled faintly, playing along, though a subtle unease churned inside. He didn't want anyone thinking too much about it. Behind that light moment, Midoriya leaned against the counter in the kitchen, spoon paused halfway to his mouth. His gaze narrowed—not at the gloves, but the subtle static hum in the air as Reiji passed. It was almost imperceptible, but Midoriya had trained himself to notice patterns.

"Yo, Midoriya," Uraraka said, nudging him. "You okay?"

"Huh? Oh—yeah. Just thinking," he replied, still staring toward Reiji.

Iida passed by them, clipboard in hand. "Please finish breakfast swiftly, everyone. We begin practical sessions shortly."

Later that day, the class gathered outside under a sky painted with scattered clouds. A breeze rolled through the trees bordering the training field as Aizawa stood before them.

"You'll pair up again today—focus on control and movement. No quirks unless directed," he instructed, eyes surveying the class with his usual drowsy expression, though his tone was firm.

The students paired off quickly. Reiji was matched with Sero.

"Don't hold back on the footwork," Sero grinned. "I've been working on my air mobility."

Reiji nodded with a calm expression. "Got it."

They began. Reiji kept his movements fluid—light on his feet, reactive, and precise. He concentrated on spacing, timing, and using as little effort as possible. His breaths were slow, deliberate. With every dodge and pivot, his instincts sharpened. The exercises were familiar, grounding—a contrast to the unstable energy simmering just beneath his skin.

But then, midway through a rapid exchange, Sero launched a sudden mid-air twist, tape flinging wide. Reiji's instincts kicked in—and in that heartbeat, lightning surged from his palm.

A flash of blue-white light crackled out.

It wasn't massive, just a short arc of electricity, but it was enough to graze Sero's arm and knock his balance off mid-swing.

Sero yelped and tumbled to the ground with a rough landing, kicking up a burst of dust.

The class fell silent. Even Bakugo, who had been mid-shout at Kaminari, paused.

"Sorry!" Reiji said immediately, rushing over and offering a hand. "Didn't mean to do that."

Sero took it, shaking his head with a wry smile. "Okay, that was… new. What the heck was that?"

"Static. Must've built up," Reiji replied quickly, forcing a sheepish grin. "I've been feeling weird since the festival."

From the sideline, Aizawa's sharp eyes locked onto him. He said nothing at first, but Reiji felt the weight of his stare.

Aizawa crossed his arms. "That better not be another mutation in your quirk without proper documentation," he finally said, tone clipped but unreadable.

Reiji nodded tightly. "Understood."

The exercise continued, but whispers buzzed at the edges of the group. Jirou leaned in toward Kaminari, murmuring something under her breath. Midoriya said nothing, but his brows were furrowed deeply, murmuring into his notebook as he scribbled down observations.

That night, Reiji sat at the edge of his bed. The room was dark and quiet, lit only by the faint glow of the system interface hovering in front of him. His gloves rested beside him, and lightning arced gently between his exposed fingers, lighting his expression with brief pulses.

[Raiden Template Synchronization: 17%]

[Access to Lightning Mastery: Locked]

[Stability: Improving – No further Override risk detected.]

He exhaled slowly. "Why Raiden?"

The system responded:

[Template selected for optimal counterbalance. Discipline. Order. Protection.]

He leaned back, letting the electric arcs tickle his palm. So this was the answer. To control the shadow, I needed lightning.

Still, his body felt strange—like wearing a uniform that hadn't been tailored. His timing felt slightly off, his movements just a hair too sharp. There was power, yes, but also friction. As if the energy hadn't accepted him fully yet. Still, it was better than the chaos that had nearly consumed him.

He stood and moved to the window, cracking it open to let in the cool night air. The wind brushed across his face as he watched the moonlight glimmer over the U.A. campus.

Suddenly, a new ping echoed from the system.

[Reminder: Upcoming Hero Work Recommendation Internships – Initial Candidate Invitations Being Prepared]

Reiji sat upright, brows raising.

"Internships, huh?" he muttered.

The message continued:

[Top Hero Agencies Will Begin Shortlisting U.A. Students Within 72 Hours]

He clenched his fist, lightning dancing silently between his knuckles.

A slow breath escaped his lips as determination tightened in his chest.

It's time to move forward. Whatever's coming—I'll be ready.

To be continued.

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