After completely dismantling almost every major and minor villain group on the map — except the League of Villains and All For One, of course; can't ruin the main plot too early — I snapped back to reality.
Return — U.A. Stadium; time resumes.
The world clicked back into motion like someone unpaused a movie.
The cheers, the gasps, the scattered murmurs—all crashed together in one huge wave of noise.
I blinked once.
The ground that had been half-vaporized by my last clash with Midoriya was now completely repaired, the stadium spotless. U.A.'s maintenance bots were apparently gods in their own right; even a nuke couldn't slow them down. The crowd was still reeling, though—nobody had processed what had just happened.
From my place near the ring, I could feel the tension hanging in the air like humidity before a thunderstorm. The pros in the stands were whispering among themselves, every one of them wearing the same expression: a mix of awe and confusion.
"Was that really two first-years fighting?"
"That wasn't a school match… that looked like a pro-hero showdown."
They weren't wrong. Our little spar could've leveled a city block if U.A.'s barriers weren't top-tier.
Meanwhile, All Might wasn't wasting time. I caught a glimpse of him waving Aizawa and Principal Nezu over, his face unusually serious. He was probably already talking about Eri. I could tell from the way his jaw tightened, the same way he did when he heard something he had to fix.
While the grown-ups handled secret business, the rest of the stadium stayed locked on me. Midoriya's fight had ended with half the arena turned into rubble and a few hundred camera flashes. People were still trying to process whether what they saw was even real.
I could practically read their thoughts.
"Can students really do that?"
"What kind of quirk does he even have?"
"Wait—was that speed? Or strength? Or a combination of both?"
It was flattering, in a way. I didn't mind a bit of mystery; it kept things entertaining.
The Matches Resume
After a while, Present Mic's voice cut through the chatter.
"ALRIGHT, PEOPLE! That was one heck of a match, huh?! But the show must go on—next round, let's gooo!"
The crowd roared again, though there was still that nervous edge—like they were half-expecting another explosion.
From my spot in the waiting area, I watched the following matches play out. To be honest, most of them went according to the original script. Different pairings, but same results. It was almost eerie how much the universe tried to stick to canon even after everything I'd changed.
Still, they were fun to watch.
Some fights were tactical, others flashy. Nothing near the level of destruction Midoriya and I had caused, but in some ways, they were better.
Less "wipe out the stadium," more "impressive skill and precision." The crowd appreciated that kind of thing; easier on their hearts.
My Next Match: Me vs Neito Monoma
Soon enough, Present Mic's voice boomed again.
"And next up—our surprise wildcard! The mysterious first-year who blew away the audience—Hayato! Versus Class 1-B's copycat strategist—Neito Monoma!"
I stood up, stretched a little, and stepped into the light. The cheers were deafening.
Across the ring, Monoma gave me his signature smirk—the kind that practically screamed "I think I can outsmart you."
"Quite the show you put on earlier," he said, brushing invisible dust off his sleeve. "But I wonder… can raw power handle strategy?"
I sighed. "You know, if I had a yen for every time someone said that before losing, I'd have my own agency by now."
The referee raised his hand."Begin!"
Monoma dashed forward instantly, fingertips reaching to touch my arm. He was fast—credit where it's due—but I'd seen snails move quicker.
I sidestepped lazily, letting him miss by a hair. "Too slow," I said casually, before flicking my wrist.
A burst of compressed air sent him flying backward like a paper doll. He landed flat on his back outside the ring, twitching slightly but conscious.
The referee blinked. "Uh… winner—Hayato!"
The crowd didn't even cheer at first; they just stared. Then the noise hit like a wave, half shock, half laughter. I gave a small shrug, hands in pockets, and walked off the field.
No suspense. Just efficiency.
The Other Matches
The next matches went on in quick sequence.
First Bracket – Shoto Todoroki vs Reiko Yanagi
Reiko used her Poltergeist quirk, hurling debris and metal scraps through the air like a small-scale telekinetic storm. Impressive in theory—but against Todoroki? Yeah, no.
He simply froze everything mid-air, the shards locking in ice like a suspended snow globe. Then, with one sweep of his arm, the entire arena floor turned to frost.
Reiko tried to move, but the ice had already trapped her feet. She sighed, shoulders slumping. "I forfeit."
"Winner—Shoto Todoroki!"
Even from the stands, I could see Shoto's breath fogging. The guy didn't even look satisfied. Just another day at work.
Next Match – Tenya Ida vs Denki Kaminari
Now, this one was at least entertaining.
On paper, Denki had more firepower. Electricity versus a speed quirk sounded like a chaotic mess waiting to happen. But Ida was… well, Ida. Pure discipline and horsepower.
As soon as the whistle blew, Denki charged up, lightning crackling across his arms."MAX VOLTAGE!" he yelled, firing a bolt wide enough to fry a truck.
Ida didn't flinch. He accelerated, turbines flaring bright blue, and bulldozed straight through the current. The electricity made his armor spark and his teeth grit, but he didn't stop.
In a blur, he shoulder-checked Denki out of the ring before the poor guy could even react. Denki hit the floor smoking slightly, his expression frozen between "ouch" and "did I win?"
"Winner—Tenya Ida!"
I chuckled quietly. "Guy's got the determination of a tank."
Second Bracket – Momo Yaoyorozu vs Hanta Sero
Sero cracked his neck, confident. "Don't hold back, Yaoyorozu!"
The buzzer sounded. He zipped forward, tape flying from his elbows in sharp bursts. But Momo didn't panic. She pulled a flashbang grenade from her side pouch like she'd been waiting for this exact setup.
"Sorry, Sero."
Bang!
The flash blinded him instantly. Before he could recover, Momo created a small, non-lethal firearm—a sleek sidearm firing rubberized rounds. She shot twice, both hits landing squarely on his shoulder and chest, throwing him off balance.
By the time Sero blinked the light away, Momo was behind him, a small combat knife pressed to his throat.
He froze.
"Winner—Momo Yaoyorozu!"
I smirked. "She's getting scary good."
The rest of the first round blurred together—some victories quick, others drawn-out—but every result lined up almost exactly with the original timeline. Guess the universe really liked consistency.
By the end of it, only eight students remained out of the seventeen who'd started.
The Quarterfinals
Bracket 1
Shoto Todoroki vs Tenya Ida
Bracket 2
Momo Yaoyorozu vs Fumikage Tokoyami
Bracket 3
Katsuki Bakugo vs Setsuna Tokage
Bracket 4
Me vs Itsuka Kendo
We took a short break before the next round. The crowd buzzed with speculation—who'd make it to the finals, who'd face me, who'd survive Todoroki's iceberg treatment.
Present Mic's voice came booming again. "NEXT UP—BRACKET ONE!"
Bracket 1 — Todoroki vs Ida
This one was short. Too short.
Todoroki didn't even wait. The whistle blew—and half the arena became Antarctica. Ice raced across the floor like a living creature, engulfing Ida before he could even hit second gear.
I sighed. "So much for Ice hero versus speed demon."
Ida was frozen mid-step, his engines sputtering steam. He groaned through chattering teeth. "I… I yield!"
The ice receded slightly as Todoroki exhaled, expression unchanged. Efficient. Cold—literally.
Originally, Sero was supposed to get that treatment. But thanks to my rearranging the brackets, Ida took one for the team instead.
"Winner—Shoto Todoroki!"
Bracket 2 — Momo vs Tokoyami
Now, this was worth watching. Momo and Tokoyami bowed to each other first—both calm, both cautious. Smart move, considering neither wanted to reveal their hand too early.
Dark Shadow burst out instantly, taking a defensive stance. "Let's make this quick," Tokoyami muttered.
Momo nodded, already creating a set of reflective orbs. It seems that she already noticed his weakness from the previous matches. She tossed them around the ring strategically. The light from the stadium hit the mirrors and ricocheted in multiple directions, flooding the area with sharp glares.
Dark Shadow hissed, retreating. "Too much light!"
That was all it took. Momo used the distraction to craft a net launcher and fired. The net tangled around Tokoyami before he could recover.
"Yield?" she asked politely.
Tokoyami sighed. "Yield."
No tips from me this time; she figured it out all on her own. Smart girl.
"Winner—Momo Yaoyorozu!"
Bracket 3 — Bakugo vs Setsuna Tokage
The crowd was loud for this one. Two chaotic quirks, one ring—perfect entertainment.
Bakugo cracked his knuckles. "Don't think I'll hold back just 'cause you fall apart easy!"
Setsuna grinned, already splitting herself into pieces. "You'll have to catch me first, hothead!"
Her limbs scattered like puzzle pieces, attacking from every direction. Bakugo blasted upward, narrowly dodging a flying arm. His explosions lit the ring in bursts of fire and smoke.
"Stay still, damn it!" he yelled, diving through the air.
Setsuna laughed, reassembling just long enough to launch a spinning kick. Bakugo barely ducked, retaliating with a mid-air explosion that knocked her apart again.
It turned into a battle of attrition—blast, scatter, reform, repeat. Setsuna's stamina was impressive, but Bakugo's instincts were sharper. He predicted her movements, using the explosion shockwaves to scatter her fragments farther each time until she couldn't reassemble fast enough.
Finally, one well-timed blast sent her central body flying out of the ring.
"WINNER—KATSUKI BAKUGO!"
Bakugo grinned, smoke rising from his palms. "Tch. That's what you get for being in pieces."
I chuckled. "He's consistent, I'll give him that."
Bracket 4 — Me vs Itsuka Kendo
Present Mic's tone went up an octave. "AND NOW, THE MATCH YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR—HAYATO VS ITSUKA KENDO!"
Kendo walked out with her usual calm confidence, ponytail swaying behind her. Despite knowing how my earlier matches went, she didn't look scared—just realistic.
"You're not gonna go easy on me, right?" she asked, adjusting her gloves.
I smiled faintly. "You already know the answer."
She sighed. "Didn't think so."
The whistle blew.
She activated her quirk instantly—both hands expanding in size. She slammed one into the ground, sending a shockwave of dust and debris at me. Clever—obscure the field, then attack.
Too bad I could read her moves like subtitles.
I zipped forward through the dust, reappearing right in front of her before she could swing. One tap on her shoulder—gentle, but enough kinetic force to send her skidding backward, out of bounds.
She blinked, still standing, hair slightly disheveled. "You didn't even hit me hard!"
"Didn't need to," I said. "Momentum's a cruel thing."
"Winner—Hayato!"
The audience exploded into cheers again, though I caught the collective sigh of relief from those who thought I'd blow up the arena again.
The Final Four
The remaining competitors were announced.
Hayato
Shoto Todoroki
Momo Yaoyorozu
Katsuki Bakugo
All Class 1-A.
The crowd loved it. You could feel the pride rolling off our classmates in waves. Even Aizawa looked mildly impressed, which was basically the equivalent of him throwing a parade.
The pro heroes were already talking among themselves, analyzing our performances. Some were clearly scouting for internship candidates. Class 1-A's popularity skyrocketed instantly.
The Semifinals
The matchups were clear:
Todoroki vs Momo
Me vs Bakugo
First up—Todoroki and Momo.
Momo took a deep breath before stepping onto the field. You could see her mind racing, calculating angles and possibilities. Todoroki, as usual, was the picture of calm.
The match started—and it was brutal. Momo created shields, flamethrowers, even sonic grenades, but Todoroki's ice wall after ice wall just kept coming. Each time she broke one, another rose higher.
She tried a feint—launching a blinding flare and circling behind him—but Todoroki countered with an ice blast in every direction, cutting off her escape routes.
Eventually, she fell to one knee, breathless but still smiling. "You win," she said softly.
Todoroki nodded slightly with his usual serious deadpan look.
"Winner—Shoto Todoroki!"
Now it was my turn.
Me vs Bakugo.
He cracked his neck and pointed at me. "I've been waiting for this."
"Really? You could've texted," I said.
"Shut up."
The second the whistle blew, Bakugo launched forward, explosions bursting from his palms like fireworks. He was fast—faster than most could react—but not faster than me.
I moved once.
By the time the dust cleared, Bakugo was flat on his back outside the ring, dazed but conscious. His expression was a mix of confusion and pure rage.
"What the hell—?! I didn't even—!"
"Winner—Hayato!"
He sat up, coughing. "You didn't even let me go all out!"
"I did. You just didn't notice," I replied, walking off.
Present Mic looked like he wanted to scream but couldn't find the words. Aizawa just rubbed his temples.
The Finals
And then, as the crowd's cheers reached their peak, the announcer's voice echoed over the speakers.
"THE FINAL MATCH! SHOTO TODOROKI VS HAYATO!"
The noise was thunderous. Cameras zoomed in. Pro heroes leaned forward in their seats.
I stretched my neck, looking across the arena at Todoroki. His eyes met mine—calm, calculating, determined.
Finally, a match that might actually be fun.
I grinned.
"Let's see what you've really got, Icy-Hot."