Sandman in MHA

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When dawn finally broke, Yuta was already awake, the faint sound of birds outside mixing with the hum of city life. He quickly threw on his training gear—an old hoodie and loose pants that allowed him to move freely. Grabbing a bag filled with water, snacks, and a notebook for jotting down progress, he slipped out of his apartment.

He boarded the train as it rode for some while before getting to his destination. The walk to the warehouse was brisk, the crisp morning air energizing him. The streets were still quiet, with only a few early risers going about their day. Yuta felt a small sense of pride as he approached the building. It might not look like much, but it was his now—a place where he could build himself up, away from prying eyes and judgmental stares.

Unlocking the makeshift chain, he stepped inside and was immediately greeted by the earthy smell of dust and metal. The space seemed almost welcoming now that it was cleaned. Sunlight poured through the windows, creating patterns on the concrete floor.

Yuta set his bag down in the center of the room and took a moment to survey his surroundings. The open space was perfect for large-scale training, and the old crates stacked in the corners could serve as impromptu targets. He could already feel the potential of this place.

He rolled his shoulders, stretching to loosen up his muscles. He did some push ups, realizing it's not enough, he pushed his limits further as he entered phase 2, doing some squats and jogging.

That's enough warm up for now, let's get started.

Yuta stretched his body once again and cracked his fingers. He took his stance and stretched out his fingers as sand sprouted out from the ground.

He sent out a parade of sand with just a wave of his right hand as it sprouted out the ground. He pivoted sideways while keeping his focus and concentration at max. He jumped to the air and shot a bullet shaped sand towards the crates he had set up.

A hole was left in the crate when the sand-shaped bullet passed through it. Not enough.

Upon crashing on the pavement, he swung his right leg in the direction of the warehouse wall, launching a powerful sand blade shooting in the direction of the metal wall and inflicting a scar.

Not enough.

He rushed towards the crate he had previously positioned and clasped both hands together in the direction of the crates, generating a hurricane of sand that blew out every crate he had previously positioned.

'Not strong enough.' He wiped the sweat from his eyebrows with his arm and proceeded once more in his training, not giving himself any more spare time to slack off.

With fragments of sand stuck to Yuta's arm, he outstretched his hand. He swept his arm around the air as the grains of sand formed tiny needle-like objects that sped straight through the warehouse's metal wall.

When Yuta realised how damaging the technique was, he felt shivers down his spine. "That's amusing."

When Yuta made the decision to take a water break, his hand was at its breaking point. He went up to his backpack and unzipped it. After grabbing his water and snacks, he closed his backpack and settled down to eat on the floor.

Stuffing his mouth with lots of snacks, he glanced at his muscles when he noticed it started getting sour. He swallowed his snacks and gulped up the bottle of water.

Yuta stood from the floor 2 minutes later after devouring his delicious snacks and stretched his muscles a little bit before continuing on his training.

When he realised his route as a vigilante wasn't as simple as he believed, he didn't hesitate to push himself above his limit every single day at the warehouse.

Given his role as a vigilante, he needs to improve his strength, agility, flexibility, and ability to reflect. In order to enhance and develop his eccentricity in any way he could, he seized this freedom.

Yuta finished stretching his body, hands on his knees, breathing profusely as he tried to calm his breath.

Round two.

When Yuta was training, he couldn't help but constantly motivate himself. He performed push-ups and a couple more laps around the warehouse. Sweating heavily, he cleansed his weathered palms and wiped the sweat from his brows.

Rather than pay for a suit for his vigilante activity, Yuta chose to use his sand quirk to disguise himself by covering his entire face with sand, leaving just his eyes visible.

A typhoon of sand rose from the floor and slammed into the wall as Yuta smashed the ground with his right foot as the sound echoed throughout the building. 

Sweat trickled down his face as he concentrated on his sand quirk. Creating quicksand beneath his feet, he tossed a crate in. With a swift kick, sand surged upwards, forming a sharp, slicing arc. The crate split in half cleanly. 

He tried the same tactic once more but got a more advanced result than the first trial. Yuta wet his lips with his tongue and proceeded to the next round.

He formed a clone of himself and chose to target it. The instant he struck the immobile clone, Yuta energy would be burn out and the clone would regenerate as quickly as possible.

Yuta noticed something when he attacked the clone earlier. Yuta stood frozen, staring at the sand clone he'd just created. The perfect replica moves fluidly. Testing its strength, Yuta struck the clone hard, watching it crumble into grains and reform in seconds. A startling realization hit him—if he could mold sand into a clone, what about his own body? If nothing can harm his sand clone then that doesn't mean he's the same? Will he get hurt? 

Yuta was struck dumbfounded when he realized something important. He stretched his left index finger covered with sharp sandy claws towards his right hand as he poke his arm slowly.

He let out a small scream when he poke his own hands as a small amount of blood emerged from his hand.

"Got a long way to go!"

He cleaned the small amount of blood from his right hand and concentrated more on his training. He created the sand clone once more as he started unleashing different types of attack towards the clone who was just regenerating rapidly.

How does it regenerate rapidly? Would I ever be strong enough to do this trick I'm witnessing right now? 

The question is—how do I turn my body to sand? How do I get my body to be immune to any attacks like my clone?

Yuta started thinking and plotting ways for him to develop. He put the thought aside and proceeded to train a little before going on a break. He set up the remaining crates while he fired some sand balls towards each and everyone of them. He leaped up the air and swung his arm causing sand blades to come flying towards the remaining crates which slit them all in half.

He fell heavily on the ground, his body drenched in sweat, and exhaustion began to accumulate. When Yuta attempted to use his quirk for flight, he focused and closed his eyes.

Sand grains started swirling around his leg as it flared up when he tried to lift himself up. Yuta collapsed to the floor, breathing intensively, sweats streaming down his body and muscles sour.

Yuta crawled to the corner of the warehouse where he dropped his backpack earlier as he managed to unzip it and brought out his bottle of water. Sipping it, he was shocked by the sound of gunfire. When he approached the warehouse's entrance and peeked out, he spotted barely anybody nearby.

Yuta closed the door and continued his training. Yuta had spent countless hours attempting to master the art of flight with his sand-based quirk. In the quiet expanse of the training ground, he molded, shaped, and re-shaped grains into platforms, wings, and even crude jets. Each attempt ended in failure: the sand would crumble, flare up, or lose cohesion under his weight. Frustration gnawed at him, but he refused to give up.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of gold and crimson, inspiration struck. Yuta realized the key wasn't brute force or rigid constructs—it was flow. Mimicking how wind carried sand effortlessly, he envisioned a swirling current beneath his feet. With newfound clarity, Yuta compressed the sand into a spiraling vortex, creating a steady lift. Tentatively, he stepped onto it, letting his power balance the forces.

The rush of air, the lightness beneath him—it worked. For the first time, Yuta hovered above the ground, a triumphant smile breaking across his face. Flight was no longer a dream—it was his reality.

He flew...

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