Chapter 6: The Special Training Begins

"This is the special training?"

Saitama held up the item he had been given. It looked like a full body suit, made of some kind of strange lustrous material. While it felt like metal to the touch, it flowed like cloth. It was also incredibly light and thin, more so than the fabric his hero suit was made of.

"Why don't you give it a try before forming an opinion?" said Bang. As always, the old man had an air of calmness about him. He exuded an aura which while powerful, somehow helped Saitama feel more relaxed. The youth glanced at him one, and the martial artist gave a brief nod of encouragement. The teen took off UA's sports uniform, and put the suit on instead. Once he had slipped into it, he locked the clasp located on the chest. He heard the clicking of some kind of mechanism, before a computerized voice emanated from the clasp.

"Training harness equipped. Calculating physical parameters. Calculations complete. Adjusting resistance. Metahuman protocol: active."

Before Saitama could ask what was going on, he felt the suit stiffen, and crumple inwards on him. All of a sudden, he felt like he was being crushed from all sides. His knees buckled and he fell to the ground, even as he felt his torso being bent nearly in half. The force was tremendous, beyond anything he had felt before. Clenching his jaw, he braced himself, and fought back, every muscle in his body straining as he brought out every ounce of strength he could, and resisted the suit. Straightening his back, he got to one knee, and then rose to his feet, finally managing to stand tall. Maintaining standing posture took conscious effort: if he relaxed for even a split second, the suit would collapse in on itself again. He glared at Bang.

"Just what the hell is this?" he said.

The old man chuckled, a glint in his eyes.

"How does it feel?" he asked. "Your own strength. It's quite something, isn't it?"

Saitama started.

"My… own strength?"

"That suit you're wearing is an experimental device. Well, to be precise, weighted suits have been used in martial arts for hundreds of years. But Principal Nezu and Metal Knight managed to take the concept even further."

Bang tapped the metallic suit lightly, and it clinked.

"An experimental nanoparticle-driven memory-programmable substance," he said. "Well, that's what they called it anyway. It was a little too much for an old man like me to understand. But the important part is that it applies resistance based on the strength of the wearer. Naturally, something like this would be difficult to create for outliers such as yourself. But Nezu explained that it manages to do this by absorbing and redirecting the force from the wearer's own muscles."

Saitama blinked, trying to keep up with the explanation. While some of the technical specifics went over his head, he managed to get the gist of it: the suit was somehow using his own strength against him. Meaning, in order to so much as stand up straight, he was having to constantly exert his full strength. Put another way, he was having to constantly resist another him, who was every bit as strong as him. When he spoke, it took him effort to get the words out without losing tension in his core.

"How the hell is something like this supposed to help?" he said through gritted teeth. "I can barely move."

Bang's eyes flashed.

Quicker than Saitama could react, he lashed out with a lightning quick jab which struck the boy's jaw. A sound louder than a gunshot echoed through the underground UA training teen hadn't even felt the blow, though smoke was rising up both from his face and the teacher's fist.

"Your biggest problem," said Bang, "is not lack of technique. It's the fact that you're scared of your own strength."

He held up his still smoking hand.

"I hit you with all my power just now," he said. "Had you been able to bring out the same amount of strength during our battle, my blows wouldn't even have stung you."

Clenching his fist a few times, he looked the teen in the eye.

"Therefore, our training must begin with you embracing your power. I suspect you have no limits at all."

Saitama laughed in frustration.

"From where I'm standing, it doesn't feel that way," he said. "It's everything I can do to not be crushed right now."

"And that is how strong you are," said Bang. "And this isn't even a fraction of what you can truly do. The key to unlocking your true power, and learning to control it, is to unleash it to the fullest. By constantly using as much strength as you can muster throughout the day, you accustom your nerves and muscles to the power. Essentially, this is a safe way for you to get used to your own abilities. At the same time, the resistance will force you to grow even further."

The old man's eyes gleamed as he grinned broadly.

"I call this the "Strongest Hero in Existence Training Plan," he said, laughing dementedly.

This guy is a hero, right? Saitama thought nervously. But he decided to swallow his doubts. He had agreed to train with Bang because he had seen for himself what the Number 3 ranked Hero was capable of. He wasn't going to run away on the very first day of working with him. As firm as his resolve was, he didn't have long to stand idle.

"Pay attention," said Bang. "We'll be starting with your combat training now."

Saitama became alert, nodding his head. As difficult as even the smallest movements were right now, it seemed his martial arts journey was going to begin right away. He tightened his fist.

This is what it means to be a hero. If I can't even do this, how am I supposed to defeat villains?

He watched intently as Bang got into a stance in front of him, a very different one from those he had used in their sparring match.

"This is a basic stance used by strikers in many martial arts. Your feet should be around the same distance apart as the width of your shoulders, but you can go slightly wider. Remember, one foot in front, the other behind. This allows you to resist being pushed, and maintain balance. Do not face the opponent square on: you expose your abdomen in doing so. Instead, angle yourself diagonally rather than sideways. Shoulders slightly up, and hands up, just below your jaw. Distribute your weight evenly between both feet."

The kickboxing stance he had demonstrated was a hybrid, incorporating principles from western boxing and karate. It was easy to use and highly versatile. While it focused mostly on mobility and striking attacks, it was easy to grapple at close quarters with it as well. Bang looked on as Saitama imitated him, sliding his feet into the right position as he raised his arms in a guard. The boy's posture was a little stiff, but it was generally correct.

"From here, movement should always be controlled and smooth. Never lose your footing."

Once more, he demonstrated the form, showing Saitama the basic footwork of advance and retreat.

"Lead with the front foot when advancing. Start with the back foot when retreating. Remember: don't cross your feet when moving."

Observing the master, the teen mimicked his movements, trying to emulate the way his feet slid on the floor. Instead of stepping forward, Bang seemed to glide. The key to this seemed to be not raising one's feet much when moving. As Saitama tried it, he quickly realised that the more his feet were in contact with the floor, the more grounded he was.

It's for grip, he realized.

"Good, said Bang. "Now sideways. Circle around. Sidestepping follows the same principle: lead with the foot which is in the direction of movement."

For several more minutes, Saitama practiced footwork as Bang called out instructions. Staying in stance and keeping his guard up was strenuous thanks to the harness. In addition, while the movements themselves were natural enough, keeping track of which foot to move first while following all of Bang's quick calls for direction changes was hard. Eventually, however, he found himself performing the moves without needing to think about them.

"Good. Always remember: stay just outside your opponent's reach, but close enough that you can reach them. You can avoid attacks by moving away. When you can't, you should block."

For the next half hour or so, Bang drilled Saitama in basic blocking movements, teaching him to use his arms to guard against attacks aimed at his head and torso. Blocking was the last resort, while parrying was preferable. Each of the movements were simple: the idea was to deflect the attack with the most natural movement instinctively. Attacks to the legs could be stepped over, or checked by raising the legs. Needless to say, the drills involved the old master striking out with various attacks, while Saitama had to defend against each in the appropriate way.

Finally, after an hour of training, Bang once more got into stance, and Saitama could sense that something was different.

"This is the first offensive move I'll teach you. The basic punch. An attack doesn't need to be fancy: it only needs to be effective."

Step by step, the old man showed Saitama each component of the technique.

"Move the same way I taught you. Step forward with your front leg, into the attack. Twist your hips to generate power with your whole body. Turn your upper body, and drive your arm forward. Keep your wrist straight, and your fist tight. The body is loose throughout the movement, until the moment you hit the target. At the point of contact, lock your body, and become a rock."

Saitama felt his heart thud. He couldn't put it in words, but he felt a nameless excitement within him.

Imitating the movements, he threw out the jab, slowly at first a few times. Somehow, it felt right. As natural as breathing to him.

Getting into stance once more, he threw the jab again, with full power this time.

His superhuman muscles, which he had hitherto never truly utilized, worked in perfect tandem, their power brought out to the fullest by proper technique.

The Normal Punch blasted a dent into the foot-thick metal wall of UA's training vault from twenty metres away, with its air pressure alone.

Even Bang couldn't help but stare, his eyes wide.

What outstanding power! This boy… at his full potential, he can stand in a league of his own.

"We'll stop here for the day," said the teacher.

Saitama looked at him, disappointment clear on his face.

"Don't be impatient," Bang followed up. "We will be training again tomorrow morning, before classes, and every day thereafter. You are to keep the Resistance Suit on throughout the day unless necessary, such as when bathing and sleeping. The voice command to take it off is 'unlock'. I trust you won't abuse it."

"If this is what I have to do to be a hero, then so be it," said Saitama. As painful as it was, he had no intention of half-assing his training.

"Well, then, we'll call it a day," said Bang.

Nodding, Saitama turned to leave, but stopped.

"I guess this means you're my sensei, huh? Thanks."

"Do not be late tomorrow, Saitama kun. Heroes must always be on time."

Outside, the teen took a deep breath and exhaled. He had changed into casuals, but was still wearing the Resistance Suit underneath. It was still just as challenging as it was when he had first put it on, over an hour ago, but he had gotten used to moving with it on at least. Looking up, he saw that the sky was already dark. It was early evening. Classes had ended a while ago: he had stayed back after the battle training for his lesson with Bang.

Well, at least there isn't any homework.

Feeling slightly relieved on that count, he decided to head home. As he approached UA's campus gate, he was surprised to see quite a few familiar faces.

"Genos? You didn't go home?"

"I heard you would be doing extra training with S-Class Rank 3, Silver Fang, so I decided to stay behind and wait, Sensei."

"Eh, you didn't need to do that-"

"Dude!"

All of a sudden, Saitama was blinking as Kirishima was right up in his face.

"You were awesome out there today! God damn, I don't think I've ever seen a fight like that, even on TV. You and Silver Fang really went at it!"

"Heh. I got my ass kicked though."

"By the Number 3 Pro Hero, that's no joke. And you actually put up a fight! Silver Fang is crazy powerful though: I could barely even see his moves. What was it fighting him? But oh, wait, you trained with him too! Damn, I'm so jealous."

Saitama chuckled.

"If you knew the state I'm in, you wouldn't be," he said under his breath.

Looking around, he saw that Genos and Kirishima weren't the only ones who had waited for him. As a matter of fact, most of Class 1-A seemed to be there. Satoru was there, and so was Midoriya. It wasn't entirely surprising that Ashido was there too. Much to his surprise however, there were quite a few others, including some he hadn't spoken to yet at all. Leaning against the wall, glaring at him as always was Tatsumaki. A little in front was a group of girls he recognized as Asui, Uraraka, Yaoyorozu and Jiro. There was also the high-strung disciplinarian, Ida, and remarkably, Bakugo, who was looking at Saitama as though he wanted nothing more than to burn him to ash.

The teen noticed that the entire group had changed into casuals.

"Is something up?" he asked.

"Ah," said Kirishima. "Well, we have no homework, and we figured the course is going to get super busy pretty soon, so we thought we might as well take the opportunity to hang out while we can. We're planning on hitting the shopping centre in City A."

Saitama's immediate knee-jerk reaction to this was to refuse: it was a conditioned response from being a loner throughout middle school. He managed to stop himself though. Everyone seemed to be looking at him expectantly, and he got the vague sense that they wanted him to come along.

"... Sure, why not."

Some cheers followed, and the group looked excited as they headed out. For Saitama himself, hanging out in this big of a group was a little too much.

Am I one of those introverts? He found himself thinking. He'd never really considered the matter before, since the choice had never really come up before: being Quirkless, he'd been mostly excluded from groups of all kinds in the past. Over time, he'd gotten accustomed to that, and even come to find comfort in solitude. When he was on his own, he could go at his own pace, do whatever he wanted. Having gotten used to that freedom, it was difficult to bring himself back down. Recently, he'd had to learn to do that to an extent since Genos had moved in with him. Aside from him, though, he would most likely have turned down the invitation anyway. He found himself wondering why he hadn't. He walked some distance behind the rest of the group, hearing their excited voices but not really registering the words. Looking at them, at first glance, they didn't seem any different from the people in his middle school. That wasn't inherently bad though. Saitama had learnt long ago that people were what they were: it was best to accept them as themselves rather than complain. A loner he might be, but he wasn't the type to curse and look down on those who did have lots of friends.

If my way of life is valid… so is theirs, right?

He didn't think he would ever truly fit in with a group per se… but as he looked on at 1A, he found himself thinking…

They're not so bad.

Maybe that was the reason he had agreed to tag along.

He smiled slightly, the tiniest hint of a spring to his step as he walked along.

A short train ride later, Saitama found himself in Z City Central. He cringed internally. The place was so expensive, he could feel a pain in his wallet simply from being there. The group decided to hit up an arcade first. For the most part, the teen found himself watching as his peers played various games. It wasn't as though he didn't want to join in: the simple truth was that if he did so, he would probably have to go with one meal a day for the rest of the week. And so, he found himself looking on as Kirishima shouted encouraging slogans to himself and Bakugo responded with profanity as the too played a 1v1 fighting game. When he got bored of watching the two of them go at it, he decided to roam around.

It seemed most of the class had their own preferences. Ashido was playing a dancing rhythm game with Asui and Uraraka. Jiro had found the guitar simulator, and seemed to be doing a DragonForce song on it. Midoriya, Ida, Satoru and surprisingly, Genos, were playing a car racing sim.

Wait, I'm sure his rockets make him faster than a car.

Saitama scratched his head, then shrugged. He wondered if he should just buy a token and get it over with. Unfortunately, with modern arcades like this one, a "token" was basically a single chip that allowed a certain number of tries on every game. In other words, one had to shell out a fairly decent amount all at once, instead of just a coin per match, like older arcades. Not really feeling in the mood to empty his wallet by that much, he decided to content himself with a soda instead. The day's training had been exhausting: a cool drink would be nice.

Going outside, he found a vending machine and fished in his pocket for a while until he found a coin and put it in the slot. A moment later, a can dropped into the tray, and he grabbed it. The hallway he was in had a balcony that looked onto the city. Making his way over to railing, he leaned against it as he opened the can and took a sip, enjoying the feeling of a slight breeze in his face. Night had already fallen, and Central was filled with bright lights. He took in the sight in silence for a while before deciding to acknowledge the other person present, who was sitting on the balcony railing.

"Bit risky," he said.

Tatsumaki didn't glance back at him. At first, he thought she would ignore him.

"I can fly," she said after a while, surprising him.

"I thought Quirk use was forbidden outside school."

"Are you going to tell on me?"

There was the slightest hint of a teasing undertone to her voice.

Saitama smiled slightly.

"Nah. What's the point of having a Quirk like that if you aren't even going to use it?"

"Hmph."

Despite her response, a few minutes later, Tatsumaki floated off the railing. She was still in a sitting position, levitating in mid air. For a moment, Saitama wondered if he should ask whether she was showing off. Ultimately, he decided against it. She probably was, but that was all right.

"Quirk laws are stupid," she said suddenly. When he didn't immediately reply, she went on. "To be used in self-defence. That's what they say. Yet, when it comes up in court, who gets to decide what 'self-defence' is? Chances are, you're going to be found guilty. Just for defending yourself. The whole system's ridiculous."

Again, Saitama had a feeling this wasn't really about the Quirk laws. But he wasn't going to say that out-loud. When he remained silent, she glared at him, annoyed.

"Well? Say something!"

"It's a little hard for me to say anything. I've never had a Quirk."

She frowned.

"Again, with that pathetic lie…"

"It's not a lie," he said, sighing. "Why does it piss you off so much that I don't have a Quirk anyway?"

"Because the only way to be truly strong is to have a strong Quirk! It's how the world is: some are born with power, some aren't. If you have it, you shouldn't be pretending that you don't."

"Eh, the way I see it, it's all about choice. Humans are strong because they can change themselves. It doesn't matter if you're born weak. You can become strong through your own effort."

Tatsumaki's eyes narrowed and she clenched her teeth.

"Nonsense. If it were that easy… It doesn't matter. I don't know why I expected you to tell the truth."

Saitama decided to say nothing. It didn't seem that Tatsumaki would ever believe him, and he wasn't about to waste his breath trying to make her do so. There was probably some kind of reason behind her anger: but he wouldn't be finding out today. She was already flying away.