Here is today's chapter!
Enjoy!
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The roar hadn't died down by the time I stepped back into the waiting corridor.
If anything, it got louder.
My match had cracked something open—not just in Todoroki, but in the crowd. The Sports Festival had crossed an invisible line. This wasn't a showcase anymore. It was a measuring stick.
The giant screen above the arena shifted again, brackets reshuffling with mechanical precision. Names slid into place.
And then—
Kirigaya Nozomi vs. Tokoyami Fumikage
A ripple of excitement tore through the stands.
"Oh man," Kaminari muttered from the benches, leaning forward. "That's… actually terrifying."
Tokoyami rose from his seat, Dark Shadow already coiling tighter than usual, reacting to his intent. He looked calm—but focused. Different from the obstacle course. Different from the cavalry battle.
This wasn't about points anymore.
This was about dominance.
Nozomi stood as well, stretching once, tails swaying lazily behind her. UA sportswea. No celestial robes. No theatrics.
Just confidence.
She glanced back at me as she passed.
A single raised brow.
Watch closely.
Match Two Begins
The arena lights adjusted as Midnight retook the field.
"Up next~! A duel between darkness incarnate and radiant precision! Will shadow devour light—or be carved apart by it? BEGIN!"
Tokoyami didn't hesitate.
Dark Shadow exploded outward the moment the whip cracked, swelling into a towering mass of writhing darkness. The stadium lights dimmed instinctively as the quirk reacted to the enclosed space.
Students gasped.
"That's bigger than before," Mina whispered.
Nozomi didn't move.
She simply tilted her head.
"Expansion without focus," she said calmly. "I expected better."
Golden light flared beneath her feet.
She vanished.
Not teleportation—not speed.
Tokoyami blinked as Nozomi reappeared above Dark Shadow's shoulder, standing on a razor-thin platform of solidified light.
"Dark Shadow—guard!" Tokoyami shouted.
Too late.
"Harmonic Sever."
She clapped once.
The sound wasn't loud.
It was clean.
A precise vibrational wave cut through Dark Shadow's core—not dispersing it, not burning it—but desynchronizing its cohesion. The shadow beast screamed as its form destabilized, collapsing inward like a broken echo.
Tokoyami staggered, clutching his head.
Dark Shadow recoiled, smaller—angrier—and wounded.
Nozomi landed lightly, already moving.
She didn't press recklessly. She circled, light platforms blooming and fading under her steps, controlling elevation, angles, options.
Tokoyami adapted fast.
"Dark Shadow—constrict!"
Tendrils lashed out, tearing chunks from the arena floor, trying to box her in. Shadows swallowed the light beneath her feet.
For a moment, she dropped.
Gasps echoed.
Then—
Light folded.
Nozomi emerged from the shadows themselves, golden threads weaving through the darkness like veins.
"Light doesn't disappear in shadow," she said softly with a smile. "It refracts."
She flicked her wrist.
Bindings of condensed radiance snapped around Tokoyami's arms and torso—not crushing, not burning—immobilizing.
Dark Shadow roared once more… then stilled.
Silence.
Midnight cracked her whip.
"WINNER—KIRIGAYA NOZOMI!"
The stadium erupted.
Tokoyami fell to one knee, breathing hard but uninjured. Nozomi offered him a hand immediately.
"You're strong," she said sincerely. "But you fight like you're afraid of losing control."
Tokoyami accepted the help, nodding once. "I will reflect."
She smiled—and stepped away.
From the stands, I exhaled slowly.
She didn't overpower him.
She dissected him.
The Sports Festival crowd didn't roar anymore—they buzzed, like a living thing hungry for the next spectacle. I could still feel the echo of my match in my bones as Nozomi settled next to me, Soul-Flux settling back into a low, quiet hum. Todoroki's fire. Endeavor's frozen stare. The way the arena had held its breath.
But there was no time to linger.
The bracket shifted.
And the next names lit up the screen.
Midoriya Izuku vs. Shinso Hitoshi
I straightened.
So did Nozomi.
"This one," she murmured from beside me, "is going to be interesting to watch."
I nodded. "Yeah. Shinso doesn't need to win the fight. He just needs one mistake."
Midoriya Izuku vs. Shinso Hitoshi
The arena felt… quieter for this match.
Not less intense—just sharper. Like everyone was leaning in.
Shinso stepped out first, hands in his pockets, that lazy, disinterested slouch hiding something sharp underneath. His UA sports uniform looked almost ironic on him, like he'd wandered into the wrong story.
Midoriya followed, bouncing slightly on his feet, eyes focused, jaw tight. He looked ready. Too ready.
I exhaled slowly.
Careful, Midoriya.
Midnight cracked her whip."BEGIN!"
Shinso didn't rush.
He walked forward, slow and casual, eyes half-lidded.
"So," he said, voice carrying easily, "you're one of the golden boys, huh? Must be nice. Getting praised just for existing."
Midoriya stiffened.
I winced.
"That's bait," I muttered.
Nozomi crossed her arms, unbothered. "And he's taking it."
"I worked hard to get here!" Midoriya snapped back.
The instant the words left his mouth—
"Gotcha."
Midoriya froze.
Dead still.
The crowd gasped, unsure of what was going on.
Shinso's posture changed immediately. The laziness vanished, replaced by focused precision. He walked past Midoriya like he was furniture, putting a hand on his shoulder and whispering something in his ear. Midoriya began walking towards the ring's edge with a slow robotic movement.
"LOOKS LIKE SHINSO GOT HIM UNDER WRAPS!" Present, Mike shouted into the microphone, rallying a shout from the crowd. "CLASS 1-A'S MIDORIYA IS HEADING FOR THE RINGS ON HIS OWN! WHAT A TURN OF EVENT!"
Class 1-A erupted.
"MIDORIYA!""STOP MOVING!""DON'T ANSWER HIM!"
Too late.
I watched him walk with a growing anticipation.
If he steps out like that…
Victory was seconds away.
Then—
Midoriya moved.
Not fully.
A violent spike of unfamiliar energy rippled across the arena—raw, chaotic, ancient. Midoriya's body lurched, fingers twitching, creating a large gust of wind.
"What—?" Shinso staggered back.
Midoriya's eyes snapped into focus.
He moved.
Green lightning coiled around his body as he jumped away from the edge of the ring.
The control was broken.
"WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT! MIDORIYA BROKE FREE FROM HIS CONTROL!"
The match resumed—and from there, it was brutal but straightforward. Shinso tried again, desperation creeping in, but Midoriya had learned. He didn't respond. He advanced. One clean, controlled hit sent Shinso flying out of bounds.
"WINNER—MIDORIYA IZUKU!"
The crowd exploded.
Shinso sat up slowly outside the ring, stunned.
Midoriya approached him and bowed.
"I'm sorry," he said honestly. "But… your quirk is amazing."
Shinso stared.
Something in his expression shifted.
"…Tch. Don't say it like that."
I watched him leave the arena, shoulders tense.
"He is probably going to be getting a talk from Aizawa-sensei," I chuckled lightly.
Before our banter could continue, the screen shifted again.
And the stadium felt it. Those who know the two fighters braced themselves for a legendary showdown.
Kirishima Eijiro vs. Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu
The crowd roared before either of them moved.
Two tanks.
Two idiots.
Two absolute legends.
I leaned forward.
This one mattered.
Kirishima Eijiro vs. Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu
They stood opposite each other on the concrete, blue and silver UA sportswear already scuffed from earlier rounds.
"Begin!"
No tricks.No spacing.No hesitation.
They charged at the same time.
BOOM.
Fists collided mid-arena, the impact echoing like a cannon shot. Kirishima's skin hardened instantly, jagged and red like cracked stone. Tetsutetsu's body gleamed metallic silver, iron plates forming over muscle.
They didn't block.
They just punched.
Again.And again.And again.
Each blow rang out like a hammer on an anvil.
"THIS IS SO MANLY!" Kirishima roared, blood trickling from his lip.
"YOU'RE DAMN RIGHT!" Tetsutetsu shouted back, dents forming in his metal skin.
Neither stepped back.
No strategy. No finesse.
Just willpower.
Kirishima hardened further—pushing toward Red Riot Unbreakable, muscles screaming as cracks spread across his hardened form. Tetsutetsu responded by increasing density, metal creaking as heat built inside him from repeated impacts.
They headbutted.
Both staggered.
They smirked.
The crowd was losing its mind. Shouting at the top of their lungs.
Tetsutetsu swung wide—Kirishima took it full-force, skidding back, shoes screeching against concrete. He dropped to one knee.
For a split second—
Everyone thought it was over.
Then Kirishima slammed his fist into the ground and stood back up.
"NOT YET!"
He charged again, durability peaking, every ounce of training behind him. Their final clash was brutal—fists colliding with the opponent's face.
Both fighters recoiled at the hit. One step back. Then both simultaneously fainted.
The stadium exploded.
"LOOK AT THAT! BOTH FIGHTERS ARE OUT OF COMMISSION AT THE SAME TIME!" Present Mike roared into the mike.
The next matchup loaded on the screen.
Uraraka Ochaco vs. Bakugo Katsuki
The crowd shifted.
This time, the energy wasn't excitement—it was tension.
Bakugo stalked onto the field, hands flexing, eyes sharp and irritated.
Uraraka followed, expression calm… too calm.
Midoriya gripped the railing. "She's got a plan?"
Bakugo scoffed loudly. "Don't underestimate me, round-face!"
Midnight raised her whip.
"BEGIN!"
Uraraka moved first—charging straight at him.
Bakugo blasted backward instinctively, explosions propelling him into the air. "Idiot! You think running straight—?!"
She didn't stop.
Debris from Bakugo's blasts filled the air. Uraraka dodged narrowly, weaving through rubble and shockwaves, closing distance again and again.
"She's forcing him to keep attacking," Momo realized. "She's not trying to hit him yet."
Bakugo noticed too.
"Tch—stop dancing around!" He fired a massive explosion downward, blasting chunks of concrete into the sky.
Uraraka jumped.
And touched nothing.
She wasn't aiming for Bakugo.
She was aiming for the debris.
One by one, chunks of concrete went weightless.
Bakugo's eyes widened.
"Oh, you've gotta be kidding—"
Uraraka clenched her fist.
The debris fell.
A meteor shower.
Bakugo raised on hand and gritted his teeth.
Then—
Boom!
All the debris immediately turned to dust under the force of the powerful explosion.
Uraraka dropped to one knee.
She was exhausted. Pale. Trembling.
But still standing.
"She pushed her body to the limit just to set that up," Kaminari whispered. "That's… insane."
Bakugo straightened slowly, chest rising and falling.
"…Is that it?" he asked, voice low. Serious.
Uraraka forced herself upright. "I'm not done yet."
She rushed him again.
Bakugo didn't mock her.
He ended it.
A precise explosion at her solar plexus sent her flying backward, skidding across the ground. She tried to stand—her legs gave out.
Midnight cracked her whip instantly.
"Uraraka Ochaco is unable to continue! WINNER—BAKUGO KATSUKI!"
The crowd erupted.
Bakugo turned away, fists clenched, teeth grit.
"Don't half-ass a fight if you're stepping into my way."
As medics rushed in, Uraraka smiled faintly despite everything.
I sat back, thoughtful.
That wasn't a mismatch.
The brackets shifted again.
Denki Kaminari vs Ibara Naruse
He smirked next to me. "Well, I guess it's time I go show the world what I am made of."
I returned the smirk. "Try not to fry your brain in the first ten seconds."
"No promises," He shouted as he headed to the stage.
The stadium buzzed with anticipation as the gates opened and the two fighters stepped onto the arena floor.
Denki Kaminari walked out first, hands tucked behind his head, grin easy and careless. He waved to the crowd like this was some casual sparring match, soaking in the cheers. His yellow hair caught the sunlight, and electricity crackled faintly around him—more habit than intent.
Then the opposite gate creaked open.
Ibara Naruse emerged slowly, barefoot, head bowed in quiet reverence. Her long green hair draped down her back like a living curtain, thick and heavy, swaying unnaturally with each step. She clasped her hands together, murmuring a prayer under her breath. The crowd quieted—not out of fear, but confusion. Something was unsettling about her calm.
Midnight's voice rang out."Begin!"
Denki immediately shifted his stance, knees bending slightly. 'Alright,' he thought. 'Plant girl. Long range. Don't overdo it.'
"Hey!" Denki called out, forcing confidence into his voice. "Let's keep this clean, yeah?"
Ibara lifted her head. Her eyes were gentle, almost kind."May the Lord forgive what must be done," she replied softly.
Denki blinked. "…Huh?"
The ground exploded.
Vines erupted from beneath Denki's feet, snapping upward like whips. He yelped and leapt back, barely avoiding being snared as the thick green tendrils slammed together where he'd stood.
"WOAH—okay, not clean!" he shouted.
Electricity surged through his body as he thrust his hands forward.
"Indiscriminate Shock!"
A wave of electricity burst outward, arcing across the arena floor in branching bolts. The crowd gasped as the current raced toward Ibara—
—but the vines moved first.
They rose like a living wall, intertwining and overlapping, thickening instantly. The electricity struck them with a loud crack, sparks dancing wildly across the greenery… and then grounding harmlessly into the earth.
Denki's smile faltered.
"…That's bad."
The vines didn't stop. They surged forward, faster now, slithering across the arena like serpents sensing prey. Denki bolted to the side, skidding across the dirt, firing smaller jolts behind him to keep distance.
The shocks burned, singeing leaves and charring bark—but every vine that fell was replaced by two more.
Ibara remained still at the center of the field, arms slightly raised, eyes closed in concentration. She didn't chase him.
She didn't need to.
"Your power is loud," she said calmly. "But the earth is patient."
Denki gritted his teeth. Sweat dripped down his face. 'If I go big, I fry myself. If I don't, I get wrapped up. Think, Kaminari—think!'
He stopped suddenly and slammed both palms into the ground.
Electricity erupted outward again, stronger this time. The shockwave cracked the dirt, sending sparks dancing violently across every vine in range. Several vines recoiled, smoking, their tips blackened.
The crowd roared.
"Yes!" Denki laughed. "That's more like it!"
But the laughter died in his throat.
The vines didn't retreat.
They endured.
Ibara opened her eyes. There was no anger in them—only resolve.
"Withstanding hardship is a virtue," she said.
The vines surged all at once.
They wrapped around Denki's legs first, yanking him off balance. He slammed hard onto his back, the air knocked from his lungs.
"Gah—!"
More vines coiled around his arms, his torso, his neck—tightening, relentless. Electricity sparked wildly from his body, but it only burned the outer layers. The vines beneath held firm, grounding the current straight into the arena.
Denki screamed as he pushed power through his Quirk, desperation flooding his veins.
"LET GO—!"
A massive electrical discharge exploded outward.
For a moment, the vines glowed white-hot.
Then the backlash hit.
Denki's eyes rolled back. Smoke poured from his body. His muscles locked up as the familiar numbness slammed into his brain.
"…Heh… oops…"
His resistance vanished instantly.
The vines tightened once more, then gently lowered him to the ground, restraining him completely. Denki lay there, limbs limp, mouth slack, sparks fading into nothing.
Ibara stepped forward, vines parting respectfully around her feet. She knelt beside him and placed two fingers to his forehead, checking for consciousness.
"…May peace be upon you," she whispered.
Midnight raised her whip.
"Winner—IBARA NARUSE!"
The stadium erupted.
Denki stared blankly at the sky, drool threatening the corner of his mouth, a dumb smile frozen on his face.
"…Worth it," he muttered.
From the stands, Class 1-A watched in stunned silence.
"That was… brutal," Ashido said.
Jirou clicked her tongue. "He never stood a chance."
And somewhere in the crowd, Present Mic laughed nervously.
"Oof! Kaminari short-circuited HARD!"
Ibara Naruse turned toward the stands, clasped her hands once more, and bowed her head—unshaken, victorious, and utterly uncompromising.
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