After the final match ended in my victory—with me using my own version of talk no jutsu, except I used fists instead of speeches—the U.A. Sports Festival finally came to a close.
The cheers were still echoing across the stadium, waves of applause rising and falling as the dust settled from the last battle. The announcers were practically losing their voices shouting about how "phenomenal" this year's festival had been, and honestly, I couldn't blame them.
It had been wild. From the first match to the last, Class 1-A practically owned the stage.
As the crowd began to disperse, I could already sense something else happening far away in the Hosu city—a disturbance, faint but unmistakable. My senses caught the clash of killing intent, far away from U.A. grounds. Hero Killer: Stain.
So it was finally happening.
I focused briefly, reading the situation through the traces of energy. Ingenium had already confronted Stain in the alleyway. This time, though, with my meddling the fight played out a little differently.
Instead of ending up permanently paralyzed like in the original timeline, Ingenium's wounds were serious—but not fatal. He'd recover with time and rest.
I exhaled quietly. Good. Maybe that'll stop Iida from doing something stupid later. Or maybe not… kids and revenge never mix well.
With that thought drifting in the back of my head, I turned my attention back to the present—our celebration.
The entire arena was still alive with chatter. Reporters were buzzing around, cameras flashing nonstop as drones floated above for aerial shots. The crowd hadn't lost any of its energy even though the matches were done. And who could blame them? This year's Sports Festival had practically rewritten the definition of "first-year power scaling."
I ended up placing first, Todoroki took second, and Bakugo came in third.
Yeah, you can imagine how well Bakugo took that.
When they announced the results, he practically exploded in outrage. I mean literally. It was like watching a grenade try to argue with a megaphone. I think even Present Mic hesitated for a second before continuing the announcement.
Now we were all waiting below the stage—the platform that would lift us up dramatically in front of the crowd. The metal floor hummed faintly under my feet.
Todoroki stood quietly beside me, lost in thought as always, probably processing the fight or his father's words. Me? I was just bored, tapping my foot.
"Man, they really love dragging things out for the drama," I muttered to myself.
Then I noticed something odd. "Wait… where's Bakugo?"
I glanced around. Nothing. He wasn't anywhere in the waiting area. That immediately triggered a flash of memory from the original timeline, and I couldn't help narrowing my eyes.
"…No way, right?"
I closed my eyes and extended my domain slightly, sensing his location. Sure enough—there he was, thrashing violently and shouting at a few unfortunate U.A. staff members. Chains. Actual restraints. I felt my eye twitch.
They actually did it. He's tied up again.
He was protesting, of course. Something about how he should've gotten first or second, that the judges were blind, and that this was all "rigged." and how he'd "blow this whole stupid ceremony sky-high." It was honestly impressive how consistent his personality was, no matter what timeline it was.
I sighed. "Yup. Canon Bakugo moment achieved."
Moments later, Midnight's voice boomed over the speakers, and the platform beneath us began to rise. Light flooded the chamber as we ascended. The crowd erupted in cheers, camera flashes nearly blinding me for a moment.
Todoroki stood still, his expression calm as ever. I waved lazily to the audience. And then, with impeccable comedic timing, Bakugo rose up beside us—strapped head to toe in restraints, arms bound, muzzle covering his mouth, looking like an angry, explosive chihuahua.
He glared at me like he wanted to murder me through sheer willpower. I couldn't resist.
"Hey," I said, smirking, "nice accessories. Very avant-garde."
He muffled a string of unholy noises through the muzzle. Todoroki glanced sideways and let out a quiet sigh.
Then, with all the theatrics of a professional stage performance, All Might descended onto the stage. His voice boomed across the stadium, full of warmth and power.
"Congratulations to all of you!" he declared, holding up the medals.
"You have all shown remarkable strength, spirit, and heroism! But above all, you've given hope to the people watching here today!"
The crowd roared.
All Might's smile softened slightly as he turned toward me first. "Hayato! First place in the U.A. Sports Festival! You've proven your might with power, strategy, and conviction. You reminded us all what true potential looks like."
He placed the medal around my neck with a grin. "You did well, young man."
"Thanks," I said with a half-smile. "Guess I didn't blow up the stadium this time."
He chuckled. "Yes, and for that, I am grateful."
Next came Todoroki. All Might's tone grew a bit gentler. "Shoto. You faced yourself in this tournament and took a step forward. Never forget that progress starts from within."
Todoroki nodded silently, accepting the medal.
Finally, All Might turned to Bakugo, who was still thrashing. His lips twitched for half a second before he carefully looped the medal around Bakugo's neck. "And Bakugo… passion is your greatest strength. Channel it wisely."
Bakugo screamed something unintelligible, muffled by his restraints. The audience burst out laughing. Even Todoroki's lips curved upward slightly.
All Might raised his fist, voice echoing across the stadium. "And now… say it with me—PLUS ULTRA!"
This time, unlike canon, the crowd actually responded in perfect unison, the sound shaking the air.
The crowd, the heroes, the students—everyone shouted in perfect unison.
"PLUS ULTRA!"
The sound rolled through the arena like thunder.
A few hours later, we were back in our classroom, still buzzing from the aftermath. The room was louder than usual—everyone sharing moments from their matches, teasing each other, replaying their highlights on their phones.
Kirishima was animatedly describing his fight to Mina, who was giggling. Kaminari was bragging to Sero about how close he'd gotten to making it to the next round, while Jirou pretended to listen.
I sat near the window, leaning back, half-listening to the noise around me.
"Man," I muttered, "we're either gonna be celebrities or complete disasters after this."
A few minutes later, the door slid open. Aizawa walked in, still looking half-asleep as usual, his scarf draped around his neck. The room quieted down instantly.
"Congratulations," he said flatly. "You didn't embarrass the school. Good work."
"Thanks?" Mina said uncertainly.
He sighed, rubbing his temples. "Anyway. Because of your stellar performance, you all get two days off before we move on to the internship phase."
The class erupted in cheers. Even Bakugo looked vaguely pleased—if you ignored the vein pulsing on his forehead.
Aizawa continued. "Pro Heroes who took an interest in your performance during the Sports Festival will now have the chance to draft you for internships. Normally, pros target second or third-year students, but this year, Class 1-A and 1-B drew a lot of attention."
He tapped on his tablet, displaying names and agencies on the screen. "Those who didn't get direct offers will still participate in an internship. Forty agencies have agreed to take U.A. students who didn't receive nominations. Each focuses on different areas—rescue, combat, investigation, support. Choose wisely."
Momo was already jotting notes. "So it's basically a hero draft system?"
"Exactly," Aizawa said. "And you'll need to decide that after the next two days."
With that, he dismissed us. The class erupted into chatter again—some planning their days off, others already debating which agency will they get an offer from.
I stayed behind a little longer, staring out the window as the sunset colored the city orange. The two-day break sounded good in theory, but the idea of doing nothing didn't sit right with me.
At first, I thought I'd just relax at home—maybe catch up on sleep or read something—but the moment I considered it, I knew it'd be boring. Too quiet. Too… normal.
And I wasn't living a normal life anymore.
Now that I'd stopped holding back, the world had seen me. The League of Villains, All For One—they definitely noticed. It was only a matter of time before they made their move.
I rested my chin on my hand, thinking. "If they're watching, I might as well start preparing."
Then another thought surfaced—something I'd been putting off for a while. The Quirk Singularity Theory.
In my past life, I was just another face in the crowd—an ordinary student. But here, I had something more. Intelligence, power, and a system that could change everything.
If quirks really were evolving uncontrollably, maybe I could find a way to slow it down—or stop it entirely.
So I made up my mind.
For the next two days, I'd gather as much data as I could. Study, analyze, and prepare for what's coming. Because the peace we had now wouldn't last. Not with what's lurking ahead.
And just like that, the first peaceful moment after the festival began—quiet, fleeting, and already fading into the next storm that was coming.