Chapter 30 - One Sword, Two Foes
"Finally, it's the last match of the second round!" Present-Mic shouted from his booth. Even from down on the arena, Shirou could tell that Aizawa was annoyed. Likely all throughout the event. "For this match, the prelude to the semi-finals, we have Emiya Shirou!"
Taking it as the prompt that it was, Shirou stepped up to the arena and waited.
"And his opponent, Yaoyorozu Momo!" he introduced. As if mirroring him, she also walked up to the arena. Now, the two of them were face to face. "These two specialize in creating items whenever they need it! It's like a mirror match! Who will be the first to fall!?"
Shirou decided not to focus on him any further, nor the roaring crowd surrounding him. Instead, he drew on his magical energy, once more feeling it surge around in his body. It felt slightly hot, but he was used to it by now, and on a hot summer day it barely mattered.
His opponent for this match was Yaoyorozu, someone he had taken on, defeated, and trained with for a short time. He regretted that he could only train her for a single day, it felt like he hadn't fulfilled his promise to her. He'd have to ask whether or not they'd be continuing with their arrangement after the festival itself ends.
For now, based on the determination in his classmate's eyes, he'd be fighting with nearly everything he had. Dulled swords to not cause permanent injury and light blows to knock her out, as was pretty much expected from U.A.
But some injury was to be expected. Quirks were varied, and with that obviously came danger. You could never prepare for what kind of powers each party had and how they interacted. Unexpected scenarios were what would occur on a day-to-day basis.
Especially with Quirks like Monoma and Aizawa. From the thought of those two alone, Shirou was reminded of the danger they represented. If he overextended here and caused enough concern from Aizawa to stop the match, it could mean his magecraft being revealed.
It was a secret he wouldn't want out in the open. Not yet. Not until he needed to. Knowing how strong the Noble Phantasms in his arsenal could be, it would be devastating.
There was a theory he had once read in old history textbooks, about how Quirks got stronger in response to equally strong stimuli. Nowadays, it was replaced with the highly problematic Quirk Singularity theory, but he couldn't scrape away the idea that revealing his true abilities could cause trouble.
He thought that way even if there would be a time where the true extent of his abilities could be considered normal, but that wasn't now. A random boy coming out of an alleyway with the ability to level cities, no matter what kind of society it was, that boy would be cause for worry.
"I see you're slightly distracted, Emiya-san?" Yaoyorozu called out.
Somewhat startled, Shirou scratched the back of his head. "Sorry, I get lost in my thoughts some times."
"It's fine, I'm sure everyone in class already knows that about you," Yaoyorozu answered.
He fought off the embarrassed frown on his face and instead moved into position. Both his arms spread out as if grasping nothing and legs rigid at the ready.
It was sort of a tell, a sign that he would be fighting as well as he could, one that Yaoyorozu seemed to be happy about.
Trace On.
Blunted swords formed within his grasp, wielded by nameless warriors from a forgotten time. The edge would not kill, nor would it harm extensively. It was still possible to get cut, but he knew that U.A. had good enough facilities to treat those wounds.
"I am glad you didn't make a shinai like last time, Emiya," Yaoyorozu said with a smile. She had dropped the honorific, but that was fine. This was an arena, respect for your opponent would be shown through how well you fought them. "Then I suppose that I will have to answer in kind."
A spear grew out from her forearm. She gave it a few test swings, twirled it once, and rested it by her side.
"Folks looks like we'll be getting a good ol' fashioned fight!" Present-Mic shouted. "Is this going to be any different from quirkless duel? Who knows, but this is a breath of fresh air isn't it!?"
Technically they could use their 'quirks' at any time, and it was likely that they would as the match progressed. However, Shirou had no intention to do so yet. He had already revealed he didn't need to trace an object in his grasp, as he traced a cage of swords around Ashido before, but that was all he was willing to reveal at the moment.
It was likely that Yaoyorozu had her own tricks that she hadn't revealed yet.
Shirou's usual modus operandi would've been to hold back and let his opponent come to him, but this was an opponent who would only benefit from waiting it out. Time was her ally, and with it, she could create many things to help her out. Shirou could say the same about himself but in a fight, it wasn't about playing to your strengths, but taking your opponent's away, to counter them for relying on it.
It was why he used Gae Bulg against the Nomu. He needed just one moment to pin that creature down and defeat it, which the spear provided. Its hyper regeneration was a downside, but there was the minor curse that the red spear provided which helped, obviously not the main power of the spear but it was there.
It was a miracle that Rin even managed to revive him.
There were other weapons which would've likely been better. A short-bladed scythe that killed immortals like Harpe would've been better, but unfortunately, it was not the first thing he saw in his mind. Assassin's Monohoshizao, Lancer's spear, Herakles stone slab, even Archer's married blades, were all 'mentally' closer to him. It was a split-second decision that led him to use that spear, one that Shirou regretted.
Mental tirade aside, between now and the last time he and Yaoyorozu had fought, barely a month had passed, but a lot had happened. It was likely that, during her time at their disastrous field trip, she had grown in more ways than one.
"Let the final match of the quarter-finals... BEGIN!"
He'd be finding out soon enough.
Shirou had closed the distance between them relatively quickly. Yaoyorozu had already created bracers around her arms, which he applauded as a good decision. She wouldn't have had time to make anything else yet.
A nameless blade sang with a forceful thrust. Even if she were to block, it would slide past the polearm.
To her credit, she did not defend but instead parried. The moment his blade made contact with her spear's shaft, she forced it to her side and drawing closer to him. To a novice, approaching someone with a mid-ranged weapon such as a spear would be a bad idea.
However, she proved to be anything but a novice. The week she spent training before the festival bore fruit as she made to kicked him away.
He twisted his body and let it pass by him. Shirou's free arm wrapped around her shin, locking it in place. He would've thrown her aside, as his current positioning didn't lean well to grappling, but she reacted by using her other leg to try and kick him away once more.
She lost leverage with the ground, but her spear helped keep her steady, acting as makeshift support. However, Shirou maintained his ground and brought his initially thrust blade to swipe at her.
Whether it was luck or planned, her spear lost its grip and allowed her to fall, dodging the nameless sword by a hair's breadth. This allowed her the momentum to drag her leg out from his haphazard grapple and flipped away.
Shirou knew it was an opportunity when she was about to get a solid foothold. Seconds away from doing so, he lunged with his secondary blade.
Yaoyorozu recovered by ducking and using her spear to thrust where he previously stood. He battered it aside with his free blade and tried to swing at her again. She did not fully commit and used the butt of the polearm to parry his own attempt.
It continued for a bit. His blades would seek her out and her spear would parry and follow up with either a strong thrust or swift swipe. If he couldn't parry, he'd leap away and reenter the fray. Whenever Yaoyorozu needed distance, she'd try to do so with the range of her spear. He would parry it again with his free blade and the cycle would begin anew.
"Almost as if out of a period drama, our contestants match each other in a clash of skill!" Present-Mic commented. However, Shirou had let the voice fade into obscurity in favor of the match before him.
Such a clash was taxing for someone not used to it. Several muscles worked at once to perform certain maneuvers; stretching and contracting to meet their demands. It wasn't unusual that exhaustion would eventually catch up to them.
In her realization, Yaoyorozu frowned pressed the attack. She couldn't keep the same pace as before. At their current rate, it would be Yaoyorozu who would tire first.
Shirou retaliated in kind, able to up his tempo against hers. From an outside perspective, it looked to be him dominating the fight, which was expected. When compared, Shirou had the most experience with his blades, with the weaponry he had at his disposal. It was a wonder that Yaoyorozu could keep up, as it was a stark difference to their first encounter.
Then again, she didn't have the time to just make a load of rubber ammo and guns.
Shirou saw her stumbled just a bit but didn't hesitate to force her off balance and send her flying onto her back. She didn't remain on the floor for too long as she rolled onto her feet, much like how she did in her match against Tokoyami.
When Shirou made to pursue, he paused and stepped back.
Caltrops, made when she rolled out of the way and formed from her forearms in haste.
So, this was when their 'quirks' would come into play?
His minor hesitation costed him ever so slightly as a spear was thrown, with surprising accuracy, towards him. It was blunted, and wouldn't hurt him in the slightest, but he imagined Archer laughing at him for even thinking about letting something like it hit him and caught the spear midair.
He had to let go of one of his blades, but that was fine, seeing it dissipate back into magical energy as soon as it hit the ground. He didn't want it getting in the way of his footwork, he already had a few caltrops to worry about.
With Yaoyorozu's weapon held his left hand's grasp, he gave it a few test twirls. It was surprisingly light and well made. It would seem Yaoyorozu looked into how to make a proper spear.
However, with this in hand, what was Yaoyorozu planning to do next?
The answer was surprisingly simple.
Russian matryoshka dolls were thrown, covering any avenue of escape. Normally, he'd ignore such a haphazard attempt at keeping him away, but a quick twitch of his nose and immediately he forced himself to back away.
His sense of smell was good, something he could augment with magical reinforcement, but he didn't need a magically superb sense to know the smell of sulfur was.
A short second later, the matryoshka dolls erupted. An echoing explosion stole his senses momentarily, and idly he wondered if he was injured because of it. However, he noted it didn't hurt him save for covering him in a bit of soot.
He couldn't see where Yaoyorozu was, and rushing forward while he knew she had covered the grounds with pointed caltrops was a bad idea. Trying to clear the smog was probably the better option, but when it hid Yaoyorozu, it had hidden him as well.
There was some benefit to being unseen, so Shirou hunkered down and traced some protective boots. They'd have to be thick and heavy, and it would likely hinder his movements slightly, but a thin sheet of metal wouldn't stop the caltrops from piercing. It would take a few seconds, but underneath the cover of blackened smoke, it was a risk worth taking.
The smoke was starting to clear up a bit, and Shirou could see Yaoyorozu's feet a while away.
However, there was something else next to her too.
Shirou reacted quickly by running to the side, following the edge of the arena until he was out of the quickly fading smoke. He had crushed a few caltrops under him, but that was at the back of his mind.
Especially when the smoke parted like the red sea once a literal cannonball blasted through it.
It would seem that she hadn't just increased her knowledge, but upgraded the speed at which she could create objects. Although, the cannonball itself was hollow, evident by how it cracked open once it impacted the grasslands around them.
She was frowning, but that was to be expected. That was a prime chance to end the round and she let it slip by. The cannon was going to be useless now, seeing that Shirou wasn't going to give her another opportunity to use it.
Since she used her quirk to this degree, it was only fair that he replied in kind.
Above him, various swords appeared as if vipers ready to snipe at their prey, forward motion already traced into them. Once they were fully realized, they shot out, not unlike the hollow cannonball from earlier.
Yaoyorozu created a haphazard tower shield of solid steel and was battered back an inch or so as she tried to weather the storm. There were a few chips on her shield but it proved effective enough to protect her.
Shirou knew that she'd be a sitting duck unless she did something, and mentally prepared for what she'd do as he charged towards her.
Once he was around the shield, he noticed the blackened goggles around her, as well as the multitude of matryoshka dolls surrounding her.
Shirou reacted by tracing a large tower shield of his own.
It was just in time. There was a painful flash of light surrounding his defense, strong enough to cause an average man to go blind for a few minutes. Yaoyorozu's goggles were likely enough to stem the light from harming her, but the darkened tints must've allowed her to see even so. That was also probably why there was a constant flood of light from her.
She was creating flashbangs as fast as she could, but why in matryoshka dolls? Were they easier for her to make than a regular grenade? Whatever the case, his sight would be taken from him for now, at least until he could make his own goggles.
Shirou closed his own eyes and threw his shield towards her, or at least where he last saw her. Already, he was working through what he remembered of her goggles and trying to recreate it.
Yaoyorozu must've guessed his plan and closed the distance between them. The sound of ever exploding dolls clouded her footsteps and dispersed the wind so not even her scent could aid him. At this point, he was literally fighting blind.
At least until a few seconds later when his preventive goggles appeared, but by then he had basically been predicting where she would aim. He had been successful for a few hits to his vitals, but he had let a few blows through.
With his vision restored, he tried getting a grip on his situation. In doing so, he saw the sulfur-addled dolls at his feet and a quickly retreating opponent.
He did not chase after her and instead dodged to the side, which proved to be the right choice when those dolls ignited.
She was playing the long game, wearing him and his senses down as she took him out from afar. It was a good plan, but Shirou had his own countermeasure.
Shirou couldn't see with these goggles on, so he made sure only one eye was covered as he traced several more nameless blades.
This time, above Yaoyorozu.
She reacted by rolling away, her goggles having been discarded hastily, and eventually breaking off into a sprint. Swords fell and pierced the concrete behind her, a shield was created to protect her from the squall, but it left her vulnerable to a sword shot at her from her side.
It grazed her as she barely dodged, which she growled at with frustration. More dolls fell from her forearms, but instead of blinding lights, it was a burst of smoke that left them.
Explosives, to flashbangs, and finally smoke grenades. Her arsenal had certainly grown since they last fought. However, it did not stop him from charging straight at her. His hail of swords did not stop, even in the cloud of smoke.
She was as blind as him, but between the two, only he could maintain his offense at a range. At this rate, he'd force her out of the smoke. Once she was exposed, he would strike.
The smoke billowed, signaling she was about to leave the blackened cloud, but Shirou widened his eyes when he saw the cloud follow her like it had a mind of its own.
Shirou retreated, but the cloud followed, eventually, he saw a spear shoot out towards him. He only had a second to bat it away but then another spear came flying out.
Without seeing Yaoyorozu herself, he couldn't predict where the spears would be coming from. Shirou quickly realized that the smoke wasn't following her, she was making more as she moved. The fallen matryoshka dolls trailing behind the smoke cloud told him of that much.
So, Shirou dove into the cloud as a spear narrowly missed him. He let the nameless blades fade away and traced a nameless spear instead. He swiped, knowing that it would hit her no matter where she was.
He felt his spear make contact and readjusted his grip so that both his hands clamped down upon it. With a shift in his footing and a grunt of effort, he forced the steel spear to continue its arc. From the clouds flew Yaoyorozu, a spear slowly being formed from her forearm, who tumbled roughly on the ground before getting up on her feet.
She was panting. Likely exhausted from using her quirk rapidly in such a short amount of time, and Shirou was admitting to feeling just a bit of that same exhaustion catching up to him as well.
However, he still had plenty of energy to spare, both physical and magical.
Strong.
At the center of the arena, Yaoyorozu could only think of that one word.
From the very beginning, Emiya had taken control of the match. From her still lacking spearmanship to his heavily overwhelming ranged offense. She had known of his ability to create objects farther away than she could, but she hadn't expected the rain of bladed objects from above her.
That particular ability, she admitted was a ranged advantage that she sorely lacked.
She assumed that he had needed his sight, to see where he would create his objects, to create them at a range. However, that proved to be false as the swords had kept appearing, even when she had blinded him with her newly formulated instant flashbangs.
During USJ, she had thought about how a faster form of distraction would've proved useful, and through her week of training and self-study, she formulated something that could work.
They were admittedly, still work in progress. Not reliable enough and their variance in output left it too unreliable to use in short sustained bursts. To utilize it at the present, she'd need to resort to spamming them rapidly.
True, she could've used it against Tokoyami. It would've made things much easier for her if she did, but the thought did not even cross her mind, for she already had a concrete plan against him.
The idea of using these against Tokoyami paled in comparison to saving it against a foe like Emiya. She knew that the competition would be aware of her disruptive capabilities, and thus she only used it in moderation throughout the festival. However, now was the perfect time.
However, it was risky.
By using her quirk in such a rapid way, she'd be left exhausted afterward, barely able to even continue in the event, let alone use her quirk. But if it meant defeating Emiya?
Someone who shared a quick vastly similar to her own? Someone who had mastered his craft to the extent she hadn't even considered? A foe that exemplified one of the possibilities she could've taken with her quirk?
It would be well worth the effort! To defeat her rival, even a self-proclaimed rival, was an endeavor that she would risk her quirk for!
She tried to steady herself, as expected her overuse was getting to her, but Emiya was already upon her.
The half-formed spear wasn't ready yet, therefore she raised her forearm in self-defense, letting Emiya's spear impact hers and blocking his sweeping blow. She forced the half-formed spear to continue, spearing forward from her own body like a pike. He dodged but was forced to make a bit of room, which allowed her to retreat and throw an armed doll towards him.
She winced internally, knowing that she had not filled it with enough sulfur mixture before it hit him. It caused a very brief and harmless explosion, but it was enough to force him to pause.
Yaoyorozu had two options now. To retreat and continue this game of cat and mouse, or to press on into a losing clash of skill. Neither seemed like a good choice and, frankly, she was already reaching the limits of her quirk. She could tell that she barely had enough lipids to supplement her reckless assault.
With that in mind, she'd have to get a little… unorthodox.
It was a gamble, one that she had not planned for nor properly tested yet, but a gamble was all that she could take.
Committing herself to the gamble, she pressed forward and surprised him with her proximity. It was a sudden shift in approach, not one he expected. He lashed out with his usual surgical precision, a dulled blade narrowing towards her undefended nape to swiftly knock her out–
A thunderous echo. A clash of metal on metal resounded.
–only to impact a still-forming spear rising from her shoulder blades.
She twisted her body and threw out a punch, something she had not done yet in this competition, which he caught with his palm. However, with widened eyes, he threw her fist away as another polearm extended from her knuckles.
Yaoyorozu lowered her body so the spear in her shoulder blades would rush out towards him, causing him to take a step back and tilt his head away. The haphazard spear soared past his shoulder as he grabbed it and tried to pull her off-balance.
She cut off her quirk, letting the spear simply be pulled from her without herself being dragged along. Emiya had pulled expecting her body weight, the subsequent lack of it made him unsteady for the first time.
She would not waste such an opportunity!
Yaoyorozu dragged a spear from her knuckle, from the fist that Emiya had thrown aside, and with every ounce of the lipids that she could muster, shifted the construct within her and used it as a handle.
Changing a forming creation in the middle of the process was vastly different from what she'd usually do, but against a foe like this, unpredictability was her best shot.
The former spear, which acted as the new shaft and handle of her latest creation, swung towards him with as much force her body had.
The war hammer impacted.
The war hammer impacted him with force previously unseen from his opponent. As a result, he flew off his feet and onto the concrete floor.
He did not remain on the ground for too long, because he rolled onto his feet while making sure that he did not scratch himself on any stray caltrops.
He didn't expect her to use her own body as a weapon like that, but he supposed he should have. The spear that blocked his initial swing, and the spear surging from her knuckles, both had caught him off guard.
Yaoyorozu had already shown capable of creating things from her body, so it would stand to reason that she could just use her body itself.
But this meant that grappling would be an issue now, along with any form of bodily contact. Against a villain, she could create a pike and have any punch or kick thrown at her become their undoing. Their own attack would harm them.
It would lead to creating some range between them and her, and she would bombard them with ranged attacks with either her matryoshka or a gun with rubber ammo.
From the fact that she didn't lead off with it, Yaoyorozu hadn't realized the benefits such a tactic could bring to her, at least not now. However, the heroes watching from their booths likely realized it instead.
The hammer continued its arc and crashed into the concrete. Yaoyorozu let out a cry of exhaustion before casting an iron-clad grip on her creation. She swung once more, the weight of the object increasing the force behind it, making defending against the weapon a task in relative futility.
But it was also her downfall.
Shirou tossed the spear he had initially dragged from Yaoyorozu away and kicked upward.
The heavy-duty boots that he had traced at the end of their initial clash impacted against it harshly, throwing the hammerhead up into the air, with Yaoyorozu trying her hardest not to let go.
However, the steel shaft bent inward as if it was flimsy aluminum.
Shirou had no idea why, and for a moment he wondered if he accidentally reinforced his body, but a quick activation of structural grasping showed that it was compromised at the base. Where a sturdy steel shaft would've existed, there was a sharp shift into a flaccid and shoddily formed ring of steel.
However, as surprising as it was, Shirou still followed through and lowered his heel down on her. She tried raising the broken shaft in self-defense, but it was knocked out of her grasp. Yaoyorozu tried throwing another explosive matryoshka, but Shirou managed to batter it aside this time as it exploded off to the distance.
Shirou ducked under her vision and swung his legs underneath her, taking her balance away and causing her to fall to her back.
Before she could get up or roll away, he traced two long swords and stabbed them deep into the ground, the flat of the blades facing down and sword guards locked together. They looked like a haphazard cross, but with Yaoyorozu's waist trapped beneath them, it was a prison.
Shirou, soot addled with a few scratches here and there, pointed a newly traced sword down towards her throat.
Yaoyorozu saw it, pause, and then let out a short sigh.
"… That's the end, isn't it?"
Shirou just nodded.
One short proclamation from Midnight later, and the following echo of the crowd, Shirou detraced his blades.
"What a heated match that was! Don't go anywhere! After this short break, we'll be straight off into the Semi-finals!" Present-Mic shouted. "… Hey, Eraser, are you taking a nap– okay I guess not."
Deciding to ignore whatever shenanigans were going up in the commentator's booth, Shirou simply let out a sigh of his own. "It was a good match, Yaoyorozu."
Yaoyorozu sat up to stretch out a sore kink and smiled. "I'd hoped it was. It was unfortunate that I could not achieve victory, though."
"You did good," Shirou said once more. "I was surprised a few times."
"You don't have to lie, Emiya-san," she muttered, once more resuming with the honorific. "I know you could've defeated me sooner. It looked like you were only humoring me at the start,"
Shirou winced. "Did it seem that way?"
"It did," she said. "You felt slower than when we fought a week ago. There's also the fact that you didn't use those black and white blades."
Because he didn't use reinforcement at that time. It didn't feel fair to use something like that when his opponent couldn't, which was also the reason he forsook Kanshou and Bakuya, but he supposed that a real battlefield wouldn't coddle like he was.
However, this wasn't a real battlefield. It was a tournament, one that admittedly felt like it was lasting forever, but the stakes he was used to fighting under barely existed. His previous approach of disregarding it didn't earn him any favors, but there was an alternative he could take.
If he could try and bring out the best in his opponents, then they would get stronger, something that Midoriya had preached to him a while ago.
It ran parallel to what Shirou felt was right to do, more aptly being two views on separate parts of a coin. Shirou had only seen one side of the coin and barely considered peering at the other. It was a rigid mindset, one that he knew was a flaw of his and Archer, so he wanted to change that.
It was likely that it wouldn't work, that such a small change could help deter him away from the path Archer would walk, but there was a chance, however small it was. He had already committed himself to follow that barren and broken path once upon a time. Back when he and Archer clashed until only his ideals kept him standing. Back when Archer chose not to slay him.
A chance, however small, was something to at least consider.
"Sorry, I just wanted to give you a fair shot. I felt that it'd be more respectful to do so."
However, it was true that Shirou could've easily defeated her. The beginning of their fight was more or less just a trial, to see how well her spearmanship had improved, which it did, vastly.
What followed after was a testament to her ingenuity. Shirou had never really considered using his tracing to create something like caltrops to hinder movement and screw footwork, something to consider later.
Now that he thought about it, he'd also have to see about getting used to tracing other objects– not just weaponry like swords, shields, or some armor types. There was an outlandishly distant memory, that he gained from Archer, of being able to trace a working cotton candy machine. He had no idea if it had any sort of merit, but it was something to look into trying.
"I didn't expect for spears to grow out of your body," he said once he finished helping her to her feet.
"It was a last resort if anything," she admitted. "Haphazard creations like that always turn out unstable, as you can see…" The shattered war hammer being a prime example.
"But there was also the cannonball," Shirou reminded. "You have good options for all sorts of ranges. You'll be a frightening foe in the future."
"Is that so? In what way?"
As Shirou was about to explain, he suddenly looked sheepish. "We should probably head back to our class first, they'll want to clean up the arena."
Yaoyorozu blinked and looked around her.
Fallen caltrops, a cannon that lay forgotten, canisters and shattered matryoshka dolls, even the indentations from where her war hammer had impacted. In a way, it looked like a war zone.
"I suppose you are right," she muttered with a slight frown. "Sometimes, I wish I could make what I create disappear as yours do."
"And sometimes I could make what you could." More specifically, rubber guns and all sorts of grenades. They would likely be useful, at least until he got used to having his swords explode like Archer. He didn't quite get the hang of that yet.
"The grass is always greener, as they say," Yaoyorozu bemoaned.
They walked back to their booth in relative silence, only a few concerns at each other's wellbeing being said here and there.
After a match like that, there wasn't much left to be said.
By the time they'd made it back to the booth and comfortably taken a seat, Midoriya and Todoroki had already left. It was likely that they were mentally preparing for their fight, perhaps Midoriya more so.
Shirou had only caught a glimpse of his classmate before his departure. He had a very determined look in his eye, so it was likely that the upcoming match would be an eventful one.
Bakugo, as usual, glared at him from where he sat. Kirishima was with him, which was a thankful distraction.
"That was a sweet match, Yaomomo!" Jiro exclaimed. "I thought you were going to win a few times there!"
"Seriously, it was intense! We couldn't see much from the flashbangs and everything, but you had Emiya on the ropes," Kaminari commented.
There were a few other comments from their classmates, but Shirou decided to let Yaoyorozu take the limelight.
"Hey, Emiya, how did you get so good at swordplay anyway?" Mineta randomly asked.
The silence after was deafening, as if the one question alone caused the cogs in everyone's mind to slowly start turning.
"… You know, it is weird," Sato said. "From what I know, most kendo dojo's closed down."
"They were closed down, almost all of them. There are a few left, but nowadays people forget about them," Ojiro interjected. "Martial arts is kind of in the same situation. With quirks around, nobody sees the allure in this kind of self-defense."
"If they're so rare," Uraraka suddenly piped up. "Ojiro, how did you learn some?"
"I found a dojo and enrolled, but they forbade me from using my quirk on the first week," he admitted as he raised his tail. "They did start helping me try and add it into my combat style, but it was more trial and error if anything."
True, with his added appendage, usual forms of martial arts would be too unwieldy for him. His tail would get in the way of some forms and ruin his sense of balance. It'd make sense for him to have adapted existing forms to his needs.
"Did Emiya join a dojo too?" Jiro mused. "Mind answering us, Emiya? Or do you want to keep it a secret?"
… Well, not really.
"There's not much to explain," he said. "I learned I could make swords and learned swordplay."
"Spears too," Yaoyorozu reminded with a raised brow. "Does this mean you learned spearmanship too?"
Seeing no reason to deny, Shirou nodded.
"I bet he knows how to use every other weapon he can make too," Kaminari joked before suddenly blinking at the idea. "Wait, can you?"
Once more, Shirou nodded. "I technically know how to use other weapons, but I always felt more comfortable with swords." Technically, he just needed to look into the history of a weapon and let his body absorb the knowledge for him.
He could probably use Herakles' stone axe, but he had no idea how his body would adapt the fighting style. Seriously, Herakles was a behemoth of a man. It'd be like a normal man using the fighting style of a giant.
"You could make that your slogan when you become pro, 'The hero whose mastered all weapons'!" Sato noted before frowning. "That sounded better in my head."
Shirou felt like they'd be talking about that for a while, so he tuned out. He was going to look over to the fight that was soon to take place, but he felt a vibration in his pocket. A second later, he realized Yu was calling him.
Excusing himself, Shirou walked out of the booth and picked up the phone.
He should've probably held it further from his face.
"SHIROU! WHO WAS IT!?"
Shirou frowned as he tried to get the ringing noise out of his ears. "I'm sorry, can you start from the beginning?"
"Right, sorry. I panicked. I've been thinking about it throughout my shift. Farran, that shitty cafe owner, said you slept with someone before. But, thinking about it now, it was probably a lie, right?"
Archer, you son of a–
The fact he was choking of air had caused Yu to gasp in shock.
"It wasn't a lie, was it? Please tell me you haven't, because thinking of how my adopted son got some before– I mean, about how a minor such as yourself managed to–"
"Yu, I don't think this is the best time to talk about this," Shirou tried. "Can we talk about this later?"
He truly did not want to talk about it. She couldn't see it, but he was wincing. If he had picked up the phone earlier down at the booth, he wouldn't be able to escape the ensuing chaos. Teenagers, especially in regards to topics like this, would throw everything to the wind just to talk about it.
His adoptive mother fell silent at that, and for a moment Shirou thought she'd press the issue, but the following tone dissuaded the notion. "Fine. when we get home, we'll be talking about it. Okay?"
Shirou sighed inaudibly. "Alright, Yu."
He put his phone away. He wasn't looking forward to tonight, not in the slightest. Instead, he fingered the pendant in his pocket once more, being once more reminded of who he had given his heart to.
… Should he tell Yu about Rin? He had been doing relatively well in keeping it a secret, but should he talk about it now, then he'd be opening another can of worms, namely his past. He still wasn't sure if it would be safe to let that knowledge out there.
Then again, Avenger was in this world, and with help in the form of a mysterious villain organization, so perhaps that enough reason to do so. Then again, would she believe him? Probably, if he could convince Archer to tell her with him, and that was a substantially large 'if'.
As mortifying as that eventual talk would be, it didn't distract him from noticing someone sullenly walk by him.
There was Iida, with a face staring off into the unseen distance. A stark difference to his usual studious demeanor. That alone caused Shirou some concern. "Are you alright?" He ended up asking, not being one to leave things be.
Iida paused, as if only just realizing he was nearby, before replying with a facade of a smile.
"Yes, I am fine," came the oddly flat reply. "I had a call from my family, but it is of no issue."
The tone his class president had meant that he didn't want him to pry any further, and so Shirou didn't. If it was a family issue, then he had no right to look into it any further. He had his own, more recent issues, to deal with at the moment.
Knowing that Midoriya and Todoroki's match would be coming up in a few minutes, Shirou followed Iida back to the booth.
"That was an interesting match," some professional hero muttered.
Several around him had agreed, noting how both students had skill well above some they personally knew. However, that wasn't a hard claim to make, especially considering that almost nobody knew how to properly fight with the weaponry of old.
Swords, spears, axes, and all other weaponry like it had a place in fictitious fantasy novels, but not in a modern-day society where both quirks and firearms reign supreme. That was a given, where society progresses, some parts will inevitably be left behind.
Martial arts, skill with a blade, those had fallen out of favor. Time and effort were required to make oneself proficient enough to use, but why spend it on something which could rarely work on others? People with durability quirks could render it moot, or rather quirks in general.
These were methods from a begotten era, where a modern quirked man could be seen as gods in comparison to how they were a mere century ago. With skills made to deal with other quirkless, they would be pitiful against a sufficient quirk. Hence, why they fell out of favor.
Of course, there were still others who tried to keep the tradition alive, some more successful than most, but it was still a dying art. Why take up the blade or the path of martial arts when a nifty quirk lay just in reach?
Uwabami would have called those people fools, but then she'd be calling herself one too. She had dabbled in martial arts once in a while, due to the fact her quirk was less than ideal for combat, but that was it. Just a meander through the infinite depths known as the culmination of human history.
She regretted not diving further. Perhaps if she did, she wouldn't have been in such danger that night, having to let a child save her. A professional hero, letting a child save her? Pitiful, wasn't it?
It was why Uwabami had turned down some of the modeling requests she'd have, in favor of training herself. She was a professional hero, and she would not settle for being weak like before just because her quirk 'didn't suit the role'.
Seeing the child who saved her compete in the eyes of many renewed that feeling within her.
It was a shame that Yu was still busy on patrol, or she would've invited her up to watch the festival together. It would've been fun. Instead, she was stuck here with a bunch of forgettable faces and an old geezer.
The old geezer was the most unnerving part.
Because he wasn't just an old geezer.
Sitting right beside her, mostly because it was the only free seat available at the time, was a behemoth of a man. If Uwabami had to describe him, it'd be if Santa Claus decided he'd be a Japanese warlord, except without the cheer and laughter you'd see from old saint Nick but instead with a hard and relatively stern glare.
"Those children, what are their names?"
Uwabami raised her brow ever so slightly at his question. He had been silent throughout the tournament, merely watching like all the others had, so the sudden change jarred her at first. Someone replied to him quickly.
One did not simply ignore the current eighth-highest ranked hero in all of Japan, Yoroi-Musha.
"The boy is Emiya Shirou and the girl is Yaoyorozu Momo," another professional hero said. "Both with relatively similar quirks, if I recall correctly."
The elderly hero simply breathed out slowly, once more falling into silence.
Uwabami couldn't help a slight frown worm it's way onto her. If that silence meant what she thought it did, then there went any chance of getting those two under her during the upcoming workplace study.
It was a shame. That Yaoyorozu girl had such a cute face, and she really did want to help that kid out more. Uwabami still hadn't paid back her debt to him from back then, and she wasn't sure she ever could.
At least she'd be able to take Shinso. She could train him to capture villains and deal with hostage scenarios, but then again, he'd make those extremely easy to deal with. Not many villains could infer what his quirk was from his admittedly lackluster performance against Ingenium's little brother.
After one last glance at The Number Eight, Uwabami sighed.
Truly, a shame.
Midoriya and Todoroki's match had happened.
They were still picking up the shattered pieces.
It was an explosive finish in every sense of the word. At one point, Shirou had heavily considered rushing down there to stop the fight, but swift action from Cementoss had prevented any further injuries they could have sustained.
They, being Midoriya. Todoroki had barely sustained much damage, but their other classmate had nearly every limb of his shattered beyond repair. If it weren't for Recovery-Girl, Shirou was sure he'd never be able to walk again in his life.
It was brutal, and Shirou briefly wondered if this was alright to broadcast, but such idle thoughts were put away when he followed Uraraka and Iida to the infirmary. Jiro and Sato had nothing else to do and decided to follow. In fact, much of the class had followed out of concern.
The only exception was Bakugo, who said that Midoriya was too pathetic to die and went off to his waiting room.
Shirou should've probably been ready for his upcoming match too, but the faculty would need a minute, or possibly several, to clean it up. It was a miracle that some debris hadn't hit the stands.
Instead, Shirou was waiting outside the infirmary. He was waiting for everyone to leave, which they were. They had only come to offer best wishes to his recovery. Recovery-Girl, as expected, had healed him to the point of almost being brand new. His arm was still broken, which meant he was going to have to wear a cast, but still, he was fine.
Shirou felt his eyes narrow.
Midoriya needed to do something about that weakness of his. Breaking his body every time he fought did not bode well, especially now with Avenger and crew breathing down from an unseen distance.
Perhaps like with Yaoyorozu, he could help him train? He had only helped Yaoyorozu because she coerced him to do so, even if it was for a session or two so far. Once the sports festival ended, he could help them further.
It might be odd though, helping Midoriya that is. Their 'quirks' were so far apart that such an endeavor could only be an exercise in futility. For starters, how could Shirou, someone who could only create, help Midoriya, someone who could not?
Magical energy welled up from within him, unseen from others, and coalesced within his body.
Reinforcement.
Originally, a spell in which to strengthen objects beyond their conceptual capabilities. Making a teacup more durable, a blade sharper, or even one's body stronger, was not outside the spell's reach. The downside was that it was extremely dangerous. He had more than his fair share of rocks shattering, pipes exploding, and bones shattering at failed attempts.
Midoriya's quirk reminded Shirou of an extremely powered up reinforcement spell. Downsides included.
It took Shirou a while to properly use reinforcement in combat. Perhaps, he could impart some tips to his classmate about it? Midoriya would certainly need it if his battered body meant anything…
"Hey, Emiya," someone shouted, which was an action quickly berated by Recovery-Girl with a swift slap on the back with her cane. "Ouch– sorry, ma'am."
He peered into the recovery room and saw Jiro walk out with everyone in tow. She smiled wryly and spoke. "We'll be heading back, you gonna go on ahead to your match?" she asked.
"Yeah, you'll need some time if you're fighting Bakugo," Kaminari reminded. "That guy is strong, and I'm not sure how you'd win,"
He could if he bound his movement by stabbing his shadow with a Black Key and then bombard him with blades at a range, but that was more that he was willing to reveal to the public. Way too abnormal and outside the limits of his 'quirk'.
"I'll manage," Shirou offered. However, he wasn't liking his chances if he kept to his usual blades. Victory didn't matter to him as it did everyone else, but he wasn't going to spit in Bakugo's face by not giving a token effort. "I'll see you guys later."
Seeing his classmates leave, Shirou entered the infirmary.
"Emiya-san?" Midoriya muttered. His arm was being wrapped in preparation for a previously mentioned cast. "What brings you here? Don't you have a match soon?"
Well, now or never.
"I just wanted to offer you to join me and Yaoyorozu for training once the sports festival is over," Shirou said. "You look like you could use some help with your quirk."
Midoriya blinked. "I do, but how are you going to be able to help me? Our quirks are very different, aren't they?" he asked genuinely curious.
Er…
Shirou debated on how he'd go about convincing him, but then came up blank. How was he going to explain it to him? He did want to, especially because he felt he could, but any potential explanation he came up with felt too hollow to believe in.
"You'd best take him up on that offer, young man," came Recovery-Girl's voice from behind him. "I assume that your classmate feels that you can get a better handle on your quirk if you practice with them. Am I assuming correctly?"
Shirou, seeing no other explanation nodded. "It'll be easier than training by yourself," he added.
Midoriya frowned and mumbled some things to himself. "… I suppose it couldn't hurt to give it a try."
"That's fine with me," Shirou said with a nod. It was better than nothing, after all. "I'll be back later, once my match is over."
Midoriya suddenly winced. Recovery-Girl asked if she did something on accident and he said it wasn't that. "Kacchan is… well, good luck Emiya-san. He's not one to hold back, so you could get hurt."
"I'll keep it in mind."
"No, really. He doesn't have the highest opinion of you and believes you've been belittling him by not showing everything you've got," Midoriya continues. "I know it doesn't mean much to you, but it does to Kacchan. Even if you don't show everything up your sleeve, make it feel like you are, at the very least."
His fingers clenched, which Recover-Girl told him to not do. After a short panic, Midoriya smiled. "To show the world how strong he is, he'll take every challenge he comes across. He already sees you as a challenge, even if he says he's disregarding you, he'll try to drag everything out of you, even if it means he might lose."
Like what he did against Todoroki.
Shirou saw it during that match. He had ample amount of time to win, but every time he was at the cusp of victory, he'd turn away and say something to him. It was a victory, at least to Midoriya, did not mean much in comparison to the other hypothetical goal he had in mind.
From the satisfied look on his classmate's face, he had achieved that goal.
Shirou frowned. "… Can you say for certain?"
"I grew up with him," Midoriya said. "While I don't understand him most of the time, I like to think I know more about him more than most. And I know that he only wants a victory he can say he earned."
Seeing no further words, the third-rate magus nodded and left the infirmary.
He had a match to get to.
And he felt it would be a hard one.
Once again, Shirou stood on the newly repaired concrete arena.
In front of him, close to fifty feet away, stood Bakugo Katsuki.
At the end of this match, the winner would face Todoroki in the finals. However, that prospect didn't appeal to Shirou, as it never had. He had a feeling Bakugo knew this and growled in irritation.
Shirou sighed and traced a pair of nameless blades once more–
"Don't use those sticks, sword-bastard!" Bakugo shouted, hands resting in his pocket. "I know you use those weird black and white swords more, so take them out!"
The magus paused and sighed. Bakugo wasn't going to let it go so he traced Kanshou and Bakuya. They were familiar, almost welcoming him from where they sat in his grasp. He used the sparsely during the tournament, but that was because he felt they weren't needed.
They still weren't needed, but Bakugo would likely continue harassing him until he brought them out, even if Shirou left the arena. He admired the drive, but it was annoying to a degree.
Then came Present-Mic's call.
"Let last semi-final match, begin!"
Shirou did not need to approach, for the missile known as his classmate did that for him.
A deafening explosion rocked his side of the stadium as Bakugo rapidly approached. The wind howled and the concrete beneath them rapidly torn asunder. Shirou could barely defend but managed to move out of the way as a large blast echoed beside him.
It was an explosive start, likely what Bakugo was after, but it didn't stop the methodical approach soon after.
He had used the initial gargantuan explosion – not as large as when he faced Uraraka but somewhat close – as a distraction. Then, he used a series of subsequent bursts to close in on him. By the time Shirou realized it, Bakugo was nearing melee range.
He'd much rather not have to face a barrage so close to him.
Shirou quickly steadied himself and threw both blades towards his classmate. They sheared through the air before Bakugo blasted himself over him. He had to rapidly dodge another incoming set of blades above him and to the side.
Midoriya had said that Bakugo would not accept any sort of victory unless he felt like he earned it.
Meaning, if Shirou wanted this match to be done with, he'd first make Bakugo feel like he ran a thousand miles.
Still midair, Bakugo prepared to rush towards his opponent in a bellow of rage, but paused as he noticed the swirling within the smoke he left behind.
After having used his explosions for his entire life, he knew more than most about how they were supposed to act, and how they move in all sorts of situations. The way the smoke flowed, his instincts were screaming at him that it was wrong, almost as if something was approaching rapidly–
Bakugo let a massive explosion loose, sending him flying up and above the smoke cloud.
Three sets of swords followed him like flies.
Bakugo narrowly avoided two of them, but had to let another explosion to try and divert the remaining four. Then, another pair surged past him before curving around back to hit him.
He had a feeling that those damned black and white swords had something off about them. Ever since USJ, where he saw the bastard use them, and from the way his classmates explained how events ran down back at USJ's entrance, he knew they weren't normal.
Swords that followed one another midair were not normal, not in the slightest.
He watched them closely, not willing to let whatever the sword bastard was doing catch him off guard. He noticed how the blade's arc as they flew all around him, they'd draw close to one another and drift apart, all it took were more of the same black and white blades being thrown and all semblance of order would be thrown to hell, and blades would rain down on him.
Magnets, they were like magnets flying in the air. The damn swords were made of magnets, or something close to it, and would attract to each other like ravenous flies.
Bakugo growled as he had to let out another explosion to try and send those blades flying away. It worked, but he knew that all the bastard needed to do was throw in some more of those magnet blades to get them flying back.
There were always three pairs as well, no matter how many he'd seen the bastard throw, which meant he was making the ones he sent flying disappear. It made sense, he could see how too many could ruin their flight path.
It was fucking annoying though! Bakugo could barely close the distance if these damn blades kept him away!
He couldn't help but idly wonder as he dodged another set and blasted the rest away, what if these weird swords weren't the only kind he could make?
The sword-bastard had only used normal swords in All-Might's lessons, but normal swords couldn't fucking beat an anti-All-Might weapon.
That's right, ever since USJ, Bakugo had a feeling that the sword-bastard was hiding something. Deku had rambled about some kind of monster. A monster that could keep regenerating, absorb impact and had strength in spades, but this guy beat it?
This guy who only had pointy sticks and shit?
He knew that whatever monster it was, it would've never had defeated All-Might if this guy managed to do it. However, Bakugo also knew some asshole who could make swords might as well have been quirkless against it, so how the fuck did he do it?
His explosions died down as he clenched his fist. The flying swords were in plain view, and Bakugo did not let a single one past him.
He would get past these swords, but he wouldn't be able to by holding back his explosions.
He took pride in his reflexes, so he was going to use them as much as he could.
Bakugo let loose another explosion, hurrying to close their distance. As predicted, the bastard threw another pair, but Bakugo dodged them and continued. His opponent created more black and white blades, but he didn't throw them. Instead, the bastard stood in wait.
A growl echoed out of him as he spun, catching a glimpse of the blades following behind him. He wouldn't let them distract him. Even if those blades came for him, he'd blow them away!
He spun. His rotation growing stronger and stronger with each burst. He felt a blade whirl past him, along with another nicking his trousers, but it did not slow him down. By the time he had picked up enough speed, a trail of black smog followed him like a rocket.
Bakugo couldn't stop the enraged call coming from deep within him.
"Howitzer Impact!"
The bastard barely had time to react as he was blasted away.
–or at least, that was what was supposed to happen.
He saw him get blown back, but he was curving away. Bakugo was still a bit delirious from the rotations, it was probably as strong as what they'd use to train astronauts, but he could see the chain deeply stabbed into the ground by a spear a few feet off to his left.
Emiya curved in the air before landing back onto the very edge of the stadium roughly, all the while rolling to reduce his momentum. He got back onto his feet without much issue.
… The bastard took his strongest attack, the strongest force he could muster without hurting himself, and was still standing.
–And he still had an indifferent face on him.
As if he didn't just barely lose a few seconds ago.
As if nothing that happened thus far caused him any worry.
As if he didn't consider him as a challenge.
Just like Deku, the sword-bastard was looking down on him. Laughing at him!
Bakugo felt something snap.
Shirou frowned.
That explosion wasn't a joke. He had to reinforce his ribs, they would have broken otherwise. The human body was not built to survive a sledgehammer, but he felt like he just took one to the chest.
It was only quick thinking that let him stay atop the stadium. Bakugo couldn't counter what he didn't see, which spinning rapidly would imply. However, Bakugo showed close to no sign of delirium as he approached once more with a guttural howl of rage.
Perhaps he should have just let himself fly out there?
Shirou wouldn't be able to distract him with Kanshou and Bakuya again, mostly because that explosion had destroyed all the set-up he had done and it would require time to set it up again. Time of which, he didn't have.
His classmate was already upon him, but instead of trying to force him off of the stage like before, he lashed out with an open palm.
Shirou dodged and traced Kanshou to swipe at his side.
Bakugo blasted himself over him and tried blasting him from above.
Shirou traced a shield between them and held it steady to take the blow.
Bakugo pried it away with an explosion.
Soon after, Shirou was sent reeling.
Rationally speaking, someone with just skill in a blade and being able to make any weapon or armor he could, would not end up doing well against someone who could make explosions. This fight was akin to a normal man fighting against an artillery cannon.
From an outside perspective, it was a fight that the normal man could not and would not win. Nobody would berate him if he lost now.
However, he knew that Bakugo wouldn't let it go. He knew that Shirou could do more. It was just an inkling at first, but it was all but confirmed once he saw Bakugo not even approach, holding onto the shield with an iron-clad grip.
"Hey… are you looking down on me, you bastard!?"
Shirou did not reply, for he felt that Bakugo wasn't looking for one.
"Victory won't be worth anything if you just roll over and let me have it!"
Once more Bakugo approached. He had tossed the shield away, but both of his palms were lit with awaiting explosions, crackling like fireworks about to pop off.
Shirou dodged one blast and tried battering his other approaching arm away, but instead of discharging a blast, Bakugo clamped a grip around his knuckles, preventing the swing from connecting.
And he wasn't letting go.
"If you aren't taking me seriously, then I'll fucking make you!"
Shirou could've escaped by cutting his hand off, but that wasn't something he'd ever let himself do. Recovery-Girl might be able to heal stab wounds and broken bones, but she wouldn't be able to reattach a limb. Instead, he detraced Kanshou, letting him close his fist and drag it away from Bakugo's open palm. He swung with Bakuya, but the explosive teen fired another explosion, blocking all vision with the ensuing smoke.
Just like with Yaoyorozu, he was robbed of his senses. Only this time, it was a much more tenuous situation.
Enraged at letting him escape, Bakugo roared. "Eat this!"
An explosion, much larger and with much more force than the last, sent Shirou flying over the stadium. His feet touched the ground and he remained standing, but he was close to the edge.
People had no idea how hard it was to fight a living explosion, which Bakugo was akin to. Hence why Shirou believed the best way to deal with someone like Bakugo would be at a range, far away from where the explosions would be able to reach.
"… take it out."
Shirou blinked at his foe.
"Take it out! Whatever you used against it, TAKE IT OUT!" He shouted. "I want to fight you at your best, you sword-bastard! I know those weak ass swords couldn't have killed that monster at USJ! So, take. It. Out!"
Shirou frowned, and even winced at how much damage his body took.
Wait, was he talking about–?
"Monster? Do you mean the Nomu? What makes you think I didn't use these swords against it–?"
"I ain't stupid! Those swords slice and dice, but they wouldn't be able to jack against a fucking regenerating monster!" Bakugo growled, aggravated at the common sense he had to spell out. "It fucking bugs me! Flying magnetic swords, beating an anti-All-Might weapon, and the fucking villain with your face! All of it ticks me off!"
Bakugo clenched his fists. "What? Am I weak in your eyes? Think I can't handle it? I ain't some pansy like Deku! Whatever weird-ass weapon you used, I'll take it! I can't become the number one hero if I lose to someone like you!"
Shirou slowly sighed.
Bakugo wasn't going to let it go. Midoriya was right, his childhood friend was as stubborn as they came.
… Fine.
In the first place, the police already saw it and knew it was dangerous, with Tsukauchi having talked about it with him earlier in the week. The villains must've already seen how the Nomu was defeated too, meaning they'll be prepared for it. Showing that spear here wouldn't change anything in the long run.
Every other villain in the world would be able to see it, but he wasn't ever going to use it on them, not unless they were monsters beyond redemption. It was a spear for killing, not capturing villains. It'd reveal a bit of his hand, but the people that Shirou would've kept it hidden from already knew of it.
So, as Rin would say…
I am the bone of my sword.
… Screw it.
Bakugo heaved, keeping his aching arms in check as his opponent fell silent.
What the hell is he doing?
The sword-bastard was just standing there with one arm raised to the right. Bakugo narrowed his eyes as he noticed the telltale signs of the bastard's quirk activating.
"… Don't say I didn't warn you."
Light solidifying into the proper shape, extending from his open grasp until finally, it appeared–
A ravenous hound growled, ready to tear his throat out–
Bakugo took a step back before realizing he had done so.
What the fu–?
He stared at his offending leg, as if it was the sole reason he was in this situation, and brought it back. He narrowed his gaze and stared at the weapon the sword-bastard had made.
It was red, almost the color of freshly spilled blood, and gleamed under the sun as if drinking it in, like a starved hound finally let loose from its cage. Bakugo failed to know how he had such vivid imagery, but growled at the potential challenge, clenching his fist as he did so.
This was the thing that the sword… spear-bastard? Whatever. This was what he used to kill that monster, that 'Nomu'.
Bakugo still felt that his opponent was indifferent to the fight, but for some reason, the spear itself felt like it wanted a piece of him, preferably torn out by it.
First, he made magnetic swords, and now this weird-ass spear?
"… Your quirk, doesn't just make weapons, does it?" Bakugo muttered, but it came out as more of a growl. It didn't matter, because the bastard didn't reply. He spun the spear in his grasp and pointed to the ground with it.
One second later, the bastard was right next to him.
One second after, Bakugo felt his ribs crack.
A reactive explosion later, he was on his feet like nothing happened. Except, that was wrong. He felt his body ache like mad. He had let loose an explosion in a panic to create distance.
It didn't work.
The bastard was right there before him, spear at the ready. It arced in the air, ready to skewer him, but Bakugo let a suitably strong explosion to divert it. The act didn't stop the bastard as he spun with the momentum and jab Bakugo with the butt of the spear.
Said spear butt, was not blunt in the slightest, but slightly pointed.
Bakugo felt it dig into his skin, but not enough so to draw blood, but enough to cause him to wince and gag. He regretted doing so when the bastard used the flat side of the spear to slam his head away, sending him spiraling to his feet and reeling.
He was in pain.
He. In pain.
Helpless.
… but, Bakugo couldn't stop the vicious smile on his face.
Was this how much the bastard was holding back? It ain't even funny.
As elated as he was that his foe was letting loose, he needed the bastard to get away from him, and fast. That spear changed him. Bakugo was familiar with his fighting style from class, the calm methodical approach that was able to counter at a moment's notice, but this was different. It was worlds apart from his usual style, almost as if he was comparing an experienced fighter to one who became a literal apex predator.
It was wild yet controlled, savage yet tamed, and completely overwhelming every facet of opposition he could draw upon. He didn't even let Bakugo get a chance to even use his explosions. Not unless he did something drastic, which his instincts screamed at him to do so, even at the cost of himself.
Bakugo roared. His veins burst as his quirk went into overdrive, lighting everything around him with a thousand sparks. His body was going to murder him, it always did if he went too far. His quirk was not as easy as others would make it out to be. It was like any other quirk, a muscle to be used, exercised, and strengthened.
It was also capable of being strained.
And he was going to strain it as much as he possibly could.
And so, with nothing to lose, Bakugo let it loose.
The biggest explosion he could ever make.
All around him was black smoke. The echo of his explosion was deafening. It was almost as if the sky itself was stained in his colors, blackened like charcoal with the smell of burning ash. The earth shook, concrete shattered, and his body screamed. It was as if the world was punishing him for going so far.
The mild pain he felt when he destroyed Uraraka's attempt at defeating him was a mosquito bite in comparison. He flew, having not a single clue as to where anything was. He couldn't even create a counter-explosion or hunker down to minimize push back.
As he flew, smoke blocked his vision. The bastard was nowhere in sight, but he could still be around.
Bakugo gagged as he landed on concrete. Every part of his arms felt like they were dying, being gorged open by unseen claws. His body trapped by vile torture of his own making cried, and if he were any weaker, he would've too. Instead, he heaved and just tried to catch his breath, but he barely could. If that little shit Deku needed casts, then Bakugo was sure as hell going to need that too.
Fuck, it hurt just to think.
It wasn't over yet. He knew it, deep within him. There was no way the bastard would allow himself to be blown back by that–
"Emiya and Bakugo are out of bounds simultaneously, neither move on to the finals!"
– what.
Bakugo winced and tried to peer through the endless cloud of smoke he had created. It covered his feet, but he growled upon seeing the grass underneath him. He might've been on a slab of concrete, but it wasn't the damn arena! Stray pieces of debris didn't count, damn it!
Where the hell was that bastard!?
Through the smoke, he could see him. Emiya was there, at the edge of the arena, the blood-red spear stabbed into the ground… but he was also on the grass below. Barely outside, but outside of the arena nonetheless. He had burns all over his body, must've been from his most recent explosion.
Even the playback on the big screen showed how they were both out of bounds at the same time. Stop joking around. It wasn't funny. He wasn't laughing!
Bakugo was not happy.
Not in the slightest.
Because he knew.
Emiya– no, that absolute fucking piece of shit!
He had let it end this way.
That absolute bastard had enough time to dig his spear deep into the concrete and not be blown away. He had enough time to circle him and make sure he wasn't at the edge of the arena, but he didn't.
Bakugo would've– should've lost.
This outcome, not even a victory or a loss… it was meaningless.
All the fuck had to do was bring out that one spear, and he was immediately on the ropes. There was nothing he could've done. At his mercy, helpless. All the while he was laughing at his efforts. Toying with him at the beginning.
And it made him frustrated.
So very, very…
Bakugo stumbled and collapsed.
… Damn it…
He couldn't move. Pathetic. He could barely even see from the pain riddling his body. He only felt himself being picked up and dragged away.
That fucking asshole. Why was he helping him off the stage?
As soon as he could move, he was going to blow him away.
… after he recovered. Then, he was going to make that ass bring out that spear again. And again. And again. Until he could beat him down fair and square. Not like this. Not in such a pathetic way.
He didn't lose. He didn't even win, but it sure as hell felt like a loss! Screw the fucking draw! Bakugo wasn't letting it end here. This was just the beginning.
Just you wait, Emiya. I'll get stronger, and I'll never lose to you, Deku, or half-and-half, ever again!
Those were the last thoughts he had before darkness finally took hold.
… Never, again.