MHA: Animari

Malik couldn't remember the last time he'd actually been in class. Not that it mattered. He had far more important things to do, like finding the perfect spot on the school roof to catch some sun.

The buzz of the school day below, the constant ringing of bells, and the endless parade of students running from one classroom to the next—it was all so predictable.

The same monotonous cycle, day after day. Who cared about studying for some test or paying attention to the lessons? Certainly not him.

Malik had already decided what mattered in life. The only thing worth his time was becoming stronger. No—strongest. That was his one true goal. He didn't care much for fame or glory.

He didn't even care about being a hero the way most people thought about it. But the title of the strongest hero? Now that was something he could chase.

That's why he was sitting on top of the school building, lying down on the warm roof with his hands behind his head and his feet dangling off the edge.

He didn't have to worry about anyone disturbing him. He was, after all, the kind of person who made his own rules. And that meant skipping class whenever he felt like it.

He didn't even really care about the sky at first. His thoughts were elsewhere—halfway between boredom and dreaming about his future. Maybe a fight against a pro hero would be the ticket to getting noticed.

Or perhaps he'd need to face off against some villain, take them down effortlessly, and make a name for himself. It didn't really matter what he had to do—so long as it was something that would make him stronger.

The sun was setting slowly, casting a warm orange hue over the school grounds. It was quiet up here. Too quiet. At least it wasn't like the noise inside the school.

Inside, it was all lectures, gossip, and so many students. But out here on the roof, it was calm. Almost peaceful, in a way.

His eyes flickered closed, and Malik let the quiet wash over him, losing himself in the sound of the wind brushing against his skin and the soft hum of the world below.

He didn't sleep for long, though.

A few minutes passed before a sharp bang split the stillness of the air. His eyes shot open, and a sigh of irritation escaped his lips. Great. Of course, someone would find him eventually.

It was just his luck. Malik lifted his head, narrowing his eyes as the roof door below him flew open, and a loud, somewhat frantic voice echoed up.

"Malik! I know you're up there! Get down here now!"

It was his homeroom teacher. Of course. She must have figured out he was skipping class.

Malik didn't even bother moving for a moment. Instead, he just let out a soft chuckle to himself, a sarcastic grin pulling at his lips. He'd known this was going to happen eventually. But the best part? He didn't really care.

He sat up slowly, glancing over the edge of the roof and spotting the teacher pacing at the door beneath him. She was frantically scanning the area, clearly desperate to find him.

"Malik!" she called again. "I know you're up there! You're not getting away this time!"

He almost felt bad for her. But then again, he didn't. He was having too much fun watching her stress out. It made the moment feel… good. In a strange way.

The teacher's voice began to rise in frustration, but Malik wasn't paying attention to her anymore. His eyes shifted upward, scanning the edge of the roof.

His gaze locked onto the perfect spot. It was just high enough to give him a challenge, but not too far for his purposes. The door was completely obstructed by a wall, so she still hadn't spotted him yet. Malik's grin grew wider.

He jumped, rolling his shoulders to stretch. Then, with a practiced fluidity, he launched himself off the roof in a backflip, spinning effortlessly in the air.

The moment his feet left the edge, he felt that familiar rush of exhilaration. His body was made for moments like this. He had a natural grace in his movements that few could match.

He landed lightly on the lower part of the roof, crouching briefly to absorb the impact before springing up to his feet. His movements were quick and precise, the kind of reflexes you couldn't fake.

Without skipping a beat, Malik sprinted toward the stairs leading back into the building. He could hear his teacher's voice trailing off behind him as she finally reached the edge of the roof. But by then, it was too late. Malik was already inside.

The moment he entered his homeroom, he slid into his seat as if nothing had happened. He glanced around the room, making eye contact with a few people, a sly grin still on his face.

He could hear the girls whispering amongst themselves, their eyes lighting up when they saw him. He was used to it. He could practically hear their thoughts before they even said anything.

"Wow," one girl murmured, "He's so handsome when he smiles like that…"

Another girl nodded, a dreamy look in her eyes. "He's so cool."

Malik barely paid them any mind. Instead, his attention wandered to the group of guys on the opposite side of the room.

He caught their disapproving looks and couldn't help but smirk. They didn't like him. They never did. It wasn't just because he was more popular than them with the girls, though. No, it was because of his quirk.

His quirk was… different.

Most people with quirks had something that fit neatly into society's idea of what a hero should be. A strong quirk to smash villains. A quick quirk for rescue operations.

A versatile quirk for intelligence-gathering. But Malik's quirk? It was weird. Creepy, even, to some people.