After the recreational activity period ended, today's most anticipated competition began. The one-on-one battles that would determine who was strongest. The first match was supposed to be Izuku against Shinso; however, due to the accident he'd suffered earlier, his match was postponed to the end, giving him a bit more time to fully recover.
The second match was between Shoto and Sero, and it ended almost instantly. Shoto froze his opponent inside what looked like a giant glacier, which then melted quickly thanks to his combined power. What drew attention was the abrupt shift in his mood: he went from a cold, hard expression to a calm, even worried demeanor. It was clear something else was on his mind, though no one knew for certain what it was.
That match was followed by the fight between Izumi and Shiozaki, and it turned out to be just as fast as it was unsettling. Izumi, without a hint of hesitation, launched a charged spear of fire so intense it completely disintegrated her opponent's wall of vines, throwing her out of the arena without giving her a chance to defend herself. The poor girl fell to the ground, visibly hurt, her face contorted with fear. But what truly unsettled the audience wasn't just the brutality of the attack, but Izumi's expression at the end of the fight: her eyes, empty and flat, seemed detached from the victory. She murmured words no one could quite make out, though it was possible to hear her calling herself "a bad girl"… as if she were trapped in some kind of trance or state of regret. Something had happened to her, that much was clear, and that shadow in her gaze did not go unnoticed.
The remaining matches unfolded with their own particular twists. Iida came out the winner, though not without being clearly embarrassed by Hatsume's unpredictable inventions, which she used every second to promote her "babies."
Ashido, for her part, was clever enough to wait for Kaminari to drain his electricity before attacking, securing her victory.
Momo surprised the crowd by acting with speed and precision; she created light bombs that neutralized Tokoyami's quirk, forcing him to surrender. She quickly identified his weakness and predicted his attack pattern to force him out of the arena — a great example of a student who'd gotten in through recommendation.
Monoma, with his usual arrogance, nonetheless showed notable ingenuity: he copied a classmate's quirk from a few minutes earlier to immobilize Kirishima, then, using that same quirk's hardness, knocked him out of the combat area. His attitude was as irritating as ever, but no one could deny it had been clever.
Finally came the long-awaited match between Bakugo and Uraraka, and to many people's surprise, it was an intense, strategy-heavy battle. Uraraka didn't back down for a second, forcing Bakugo to use his full arsenal from the very start. Not only did she face him head-on, she pressed him with precise movements, calculated attacks, and a flawless read of the terrain and her opponent. She knew where to strike, when to dodge, and how to throw him off balance, pushing him to the limit of his endurance. Bakugo only managed to win thanks to one powerful final explosion that Uraraka couldn't fully dodge, knocking her out of the designated area, even though she was still standing and ready to keep going. Even so, the match was called. Bakugo came out as the winner, but with visible injuries and exaggerated exhaustion, requiring him to be taken straight to the infirmary. It was a clear victory, yes, but also a display of Uraraka's brutal growth. No one said it out loud, but everyone thought it: what kind of training had made her this strong?
And then, after all of that, the entire stadium prepared to watch the last one step into the arena. It was time for the most anticipated match. Everyone wanted to see what Izuku Himura would do against his opponent.
֎֎֎
Izuku stood in the exit hallway that would lead him to the arena. He stretched his arms, rolled his neck, and shook out his shoulders loosely, readying his body for the fight ahead. He wasn't nervous — quite the opposite: he felt energized to finally have the chance to fight. Even though he knew his opponent better than anyone, he knew he had to give him a fair, worthy, and above all, complete match. A fight out of respect, not ego.
This would be an entertaining show for "Shinso," who spent too much time under Black's presence, to help him loosen up a bit. So much constant seriousness could become a burden. Izuku needed to put on a good show so he'd remember something good, a nice gesture for a good friend… however, there was something that kept him uneasy.
That dark force. He'd felt it more than an hour ago and it hadn't appeared again. An oppressive, hidden trace, as if watching from the shadows. He'd tried to follow it, search for it… but by the time he reached its most intense point, it had already vanished. He couldn't track it or analyze it in his current state.
—("I need to finish this quickly… and warn Black,") —he thought firmly. The fact that it still hadn't shown itself again also made him nervous.
—Young Himura! Glad I made it in time this time to wish you luck. Heh heh —said a warm voice behind him. It was Toshinori, looking a bit worn out but cheerful as always.
Izuku snapped out of his thoughts and, turning around, gave him a sincere smile full of joy.
—I'm glad to see you too, Toshinori-sensei. I was starting to think you were too busy to watch your successor fight. Hehehe.
—I'm sorry… I had to make an appearance for a while for public image, then hide to recover my strength without being found out —he explained, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. But his expression suddenly changed; his fists clenched and he lowered his head—. But when they told me you were in the infirmary, I… —he hesitated—. Maybe I should have stopped her when I saw her.
—So that's why. You didn't come looking for me because you ran into Mrs. Inko —Izuku said, without losing his composure. Toshinori looked away, confirming it with his silence.
—I ran into her after an interview… she talked about her support as a mother and her pride in Izumi. She asked me if I was thinking of making her my apprentice or something of greater prestige. Her smile wasn't unkind, but it disgusted me knowing what it hid — how could she act like a normal mother, after what she's done to you? I don't know exactly what it was that made me say this, but I wanted to see if she could feel any appreciation or joy toward you after everything you've done. How naive of me. When I mentioned you, brought up the achievements you've accomplished… her expression changed. She smiled forcedly… and walked away. I never should have mentioned you. I should have known she'd try something, to find out the truth. I should have prevented it, I'm sorry… truly, I…
Izuku raised a hand and touched his arm, calming him. His posture remained relaxed, though his voice was firm.
—It's not your fault, Toshinori. I knew sooner or later she'd come looking for me. —He clenched his fist tightly—. Even though out of nowhere I became strong, she'll want the opposite. To her, I'm the example of the mistake made while trying to achieve "the perfect daughter." She wants me to be the stepping stone for her own greatness, even if it means destroying an enormous opportunity. —Izuku looked at Toshinori carefully and smiled with conviction—. What a shame I won't play her game. I won't use force to make her understand. I don't need to. My indifference and lack of interest toward her are my best weapon. I'll show her I'll never stoop to her level. That I'm someone better than her.
Toshinori laughed softly, relieved by the answer.
—You truly are… an admirable person, Young Himura. With everything you've been through, with all the power you have… you could choose revenge, but you keep walking the hero's path. I'm proud of you. —At that, he transformed into his muscular form and smiled cheerfully at him—. Give it your all, Young Himura, I'll be here to support you.
Izuku looked at him in silence. That praise resonated more than he expected, but he didn't let his expression show it. He only gave a faint smile back and started walking toward the exit.
—Young Himura! —Toshinori called out suddenly, making him stop halfway down the hall.
—Yes?
—I wanted to tell you something else… something that's been bothering me. The director gave me an explanation, but… that thing… when I saw it, there was something inside of…
—AND NOW!! The most anticipated match of the day has arrived!! Izuku Himura is about to make his appearance for the final round of the opening bracket!! —Present Mic shouted from the booth with overflowing excitement, completely drowning out Toshinori's words.
Izuku took a step back, raised his hand in farewell, and smiled at him.
—We'll talk later, Toshinori-sensei. For now… I've got a show to put on. Please, cheer me on.
Without another word, he ran straight for the entrance, his silhouette vanishing under the shadow of the tunnel as the crowd's roar welcomed him.
Without wasting more time, Izuku broke into a run, his figure disappearing into the darkness of the tunnel as the deafening roar of the crowd filled every corner of the stadium, like a tide of expectation sweeping everything along in its path. The excitement was palpable; you could feel the tension and collective fervor of thousands of eager voices wanting to see Young Himura shine again. Many talked about his imminent victory, others speculated about what kind of feat he'd pull off this time to leave them breathless, as if he were some kind of feat-generating machine. It was annoying, at times even intrusive, but despite it all, Izuku couldn't deny that all that enthusiasm entertained him. It was almost funny, their excitement, their expectations of him.
He walked calmly to the ring until he stood in front of his opponent. Shinso waited for him with his arms crossed and the same sullen expression as always, showing no emotion, no sympathy. Typical of him.
Both took their positions, and while they waited for the signal to begin, Shinso tried to talk to him. Maybe he was hoping to provoke him, push him into responding to trigger his mind-control quirk, a well-known but subtle and effective tactic against the unwary. But Izuku wasn't listening. His mind was elsewhere, trying to figure out a way to make this match more fun.
He couldn't decide between letting him attack so he could teach him some precise, controlled self-defense moves, or maybe analyzing his quirk in real time to show him tactical improvements for handling enemies in real situations. He couldn't make up his mind, but what he did know was that this fight, however brief, needed to be a great show.
For a moment, Izuku turned his head to look for Toshinori at the entrance, maybe hoping to get a sign of confidence, or just a supportive smile from him. But when he turned… he saw it. It was quick, but he managed to make out the danger. In a split second, his gaze crossed paths with something — someone — that shouldn't be there. So they wanted to move now, at this exact moment... They wanted to play it this way? Fine. But they'd have to face the consequences.
—Begin!!
The moment the signal sounded, the air seemed to crack. No one in the stadium managed to react when, in the blink of an eye, Izuku had already crossed the entire arena and was holding Shinso by the collar of his shirt, right at the edge of the ring. The boy was frozen, unable to understand how he'd gone from being ready to fight to being on the verge of elimination without having taken a single step. Izuku let him go without a word, and the whistle marking the end of the match sounded loudly, declaring his immediate victory. There was no reaction. The audience, the students, even the teachers, remained in absolute silence, unable to process what they'd just witnessed.
Izuku didn't even look at Shinso on the ground. His eyes remained fixed on the arena's entrance, where something worried him far more than the fight.
—Sorry —he murmured firmly—, waiting for you to beat me wasn't an option.
And without losing a second, he spun on his heel and ran toward the tunnel, leaving behind the cheers that were just starting to build. His body moved with absolute precision, intensely following the presence of that energy he'd detected before the match. He ran at full speed, cutting through hallways like a projectile, until, turning a corner, he stopped dead. In front of him, everything was different.
The hallway no longer had the stadium's clean, straight walls. They were marked by an irregular cut, as if something had torn through the concrete. The light was dim, reddish, with cracks that seemed to pulse. The atmosphere had become dense, charged with an invisible but latent tension. Even so, Izuku didn't retreat. He walked without hurry, moving through that strange environment with his gaze fixed forward, not caring that everything behind him had already taken on the same atmosphere.
At the end of the hallway, he came back out into the combat area… but it was no longer the same arena. The sky was tinged red, the stands were empty, and instead of the audience, there were dark, motionless figures, like shadows waiting for his movements. In front of him, on the other side of the ring, stood Toshinori. Gagged, on his knees, and clearly restrained. Beside him, two figures in black robes watched in complete silence. They showed no hostility, but their presence was imposing. They made no move, they just waited, as if Izuku's arrival marked the true beginning of something much bigger.
When Izuku reached them, one of the hooded figures stepped forward. Even though his face was covered, the mocking smile forming under the hood was clearly visible. And just like that, the three of them vanished in a quick flash, reappearing on one of the upper balconies of the stands, far out of Izuku's immediate reach.
—So you're the bastard who's been causing so much trouble for my client… —he said with a scornful tone, crossing his arms—. Honestly, you've got an interesting aura, but nothing special. Though I'm glad you're here. It's always the same with the "good Izukus," running to save their idol, the so-called symbol of peace. How pathetic. All of you, equally naive, depending on that miserable weakling who can barely stand up straight. Just a bunch of fools who…
Before he could finish, his companion — the other hooded figure — hit him hard on the head, loud enough to make him stagger. The attacker said nothing, but the gesture was clear: enough had already been said.
—Tsk… fine, you're right. Time to finish this job. —he grumbled, irritated, as he slowly began removing his robe.
When his appearance was finally revealed, the tension intensified. His body was thin, but the design of the suit he wore resembled that of a professional assassin: dark, reinforced with metal plates on his arms and legs, decorated with aggressive lines and details. But it was his face that froze the atmosphere completely: green hair, intense eyes, and a twisted smile. Izuku knew exactly who it was, since it was his own reflection, or rather, himself.
—Surprised? Not really, right? You already knew this existed. You've seen things the rest can't even imagine —said the fake Izuku with a dangerous calm, glancing mockingly toward Toshinori—. But your mentor… now that's a face of shock. Poor man. And to think he believed he'd seen it all. That's right, old man… the truth hurts, but it's fantastic. Opening your eyes to what existence hides is no use anymore. The possibilities are endless. That's what makes this so magnificent!!
With a simple snap of his fingers, the dark figures scattered across the stands began to stir unsettlingly. The shadows covering them faded away little by little, revealing the true threat: they were Nomus. Hundreds, maybe hundreds of thousands, deployed strategically across the entire stadium, like a perfectly prepared swarm. And they weren't simple creatures like the ones seen during the U.S.J. incident; these were bigger, their muscles artificially reinforced, their bodies covered in metal plating, integrated sensors, and surgical modifications that made them even more lethal. Some had exposed implants, others generated energy from their limbs, and all of them carried an overwhelming presence. Altered from their original form specifically to eliminate a single target.
—Alright then!! Let your end begin, Izuku Himura!! Show me who you really are!
In the arena, Izuku gave no response. He remained in the center of the field with the same steadiness with which he'd entered. He didn't retreat, didn't raise any preemptive defense, didn't even activate his whips. His gaze stayed fixed on the figure in front of him, that distorted version of himself watching from above as if he'd already won. The Nomus, obeying a silent order, began charging toward him from every angle. Their advance wasn't disorganized or clumsy like in the past; these were fast, coordinated, and aggressive. Some covered the flanks, others rose to attack from above, and several were already charging energy in their modified limbs.
The distance between them and their target shrank by the second, and the first strike, a giant reinforced fist, nearly the size of Izuku, closed in directly on his face with devastating speed. However, Izuku didn't flinch, simply sighing out of sheer frustration. And right before the impact, he murmured in a dry, resigned tone:
—I really wanted to watch my little sister's match... they really never learn.