Chapter 71: The Tradition of the Crush and the Sleeping Examiner
[U.A. High Transport Bus - En Route to the Arena]
The gentle hum of the bus engine vibrated through the floorboards, a soothing, rhythmic rumble that lulled half of Class 1-A to sleep. Outside the tinted windows, the sprawling cityscape of the metropolis blurred past, bathed in the crisp, golden light of early morning.
Aokiji sat near the back, his head resting against the cool glass. But he wasn't sleeping.
He was staring at his left arm.
For the first time in weeks, the heavy, restrictive medical sling was gone. He slowly flexed his fingers, watching the tendons shift beneath his pale skin. The movement was smooth, but there was a faint, lingering stiffness deep within the joints—a phantom echo of the absolute zero he had forced through his own veins at Kamino.
He closed his eyes, and the sterile scent of the nurse's office from earlier that morning filled his memory.
"Alright, the bones have knit perfectly, and the superficial burns are completely healed," Recovery Girl had said, tapping her cane lightly against his shin after giving him a healing kiss.
She had looked up at him, her wise, wrinkled face unusually soft. She had seen the way his jaw clenched when he tried to summon a simple frost over his palm.
"Listen to me, Kuzan," she had warned, her voice gentle but firm. "Your quirk pathways suffered a massive thermal shock. They are like pipes that expanded too fast and are now trying to shrink back to normal. Don't be too hard on yourself. Push it too far, and you'll shatter. Slowly but surely... just take it step by step until you return to your best."
Aokiji opened his eyes, staring at his palm again. He clenched it into a fist. Slowly but surely, he repeated in his mind.
He looked down at his hero costume. It was his usual sleek, dark blue attire, but with the new additions from Mei Hatsume. Integrated seamlessly around his collarbone, his upper back, and down the sleeve of his left arm were subtle, gunmetal-grey vents. They were micro-exhaust ports, designed to bleed off excess internal thermal pressure so he wouldn't literally freeze his own organs if he lost control of his output.
"We are approaching the National Dagoba Arena!" Iida announced loudly from the front, chopping his arm through the air, waking up Kaminari and Mineta with a start. "Everyone, double-check your gear! Remember, we represent U.A. High!"
Aokiji leaned back, slipping his hands into his pockets. The real test was about to begin.
[National Dagoba Arena - The Gathering]
Stepping off the bus was like stepping into a festival of anxiety.
The plaza outside the massive, dome-shaped arena was a sea of colors. Thousands of students from hero academies across the country were gathering, all clad in their unique, customized hero costumes. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, ozone, and sheer, unfiltered ambition.
"Look at all of them," Midoriya muttered, clutching the straps of his upgraded costume, his eyes wide as he took in the sheer volume of competitors. "And only one hundred will pass..."
"Keep your heads up," Aizawa instructed, his voice cutting through the noise. "You are the target today. Don't forget that."
Before Class 1-A could process the warning, a booming voice shattered their concentration.
"U.A. HIGH!! IT IS AN HONOR TO BREATHE THE SAME AIR AS YOU!"
A giant of a teenager wearing a traditional, militaristic uniform and a hat adorned with the emblem of Shiketsu High School marched directly toward them. His eyes were wide, burning with an almost frightening intensity.
Without warning, the giant boy bent forward, snapping his body into a ninety-degree bow with such violent force that his forehead smashed directly into the concrete pavement.
CRACK!
"PLEASED TO MEET YOU ALL!" he roared, completely ignoring the trickle of blood now running down his forehead.
Class 1-A recoiled in collective horror.
"What is wrong with this guy?!" Kaminari shrieked. "He's bleeding!"
"Inasa Yoarashi," Aizawa muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing. "First-year at Shiketsu. He's dangerous."
Inasa stood back up, wiping the blood from his brow with a massive thumb. His intense gaze swept over the U.A. students, lingering on Todoroki for a fraction of a second—a look of cold, unresolved anger—before snapping directly to Aokiji.
Inasa marched right up to the ice user, his towering frame casting a shadow.
"KUZAN AOKIJI!" Inasa shouted, his voice echoing off the plaza walls. "I saw the broadcast from Kamino! Your quirk is ice, but your will... your will was BURNING HOT! Your passion to protect your family ignited my spirit! I look forward to clashing with you!"
Aokiji stared at the bleeding, shouting giant. He blinked slowly, letting out a long, visible sigh that carried a wisp of frost.
"You are way too loud," Aokiji drawled, rubbing his temple with his right hand. "My head is throbbing just looking at you. Please lower your volume."
Inasa blinked, seemingly unfazed by the rejection, and laughed heartily before marching back to his squad.
"Hey! U.A. First years!"
Another voice approached. This one was entirely different. A boy with messy black hair and a bright, dazzling smile walked over, accompanied by students wearing the Ketsubutsu Academy uniform.
"I've seen you all on TV!" The boy, Shindo, reached out and grabbed Midoriya's hand, shaking it vigorously. "Midoriya, right? You were amazing at the Sports Festival! And you're Bakugo! Man, you've got guts!"
Shindo reached for Bakugo's hand, but the explosive blonde violently swatted it away.
"Keep your filthy paws off me, you extra. I know a fake face when I see one."
Shindo's smile didn't waver, but the muscles around his eyes tightened imperceptibly. He moved down the line, extending a hand to Aokiji.
"And the famous Ice Prince," Shindo smiled warmly. "It's an honor."
Aokiji looked at the extended hand. He didn't take it. Instead, he looked directly into Shindo's eyes.
To anyone else, Shindo looked like the picture of friendly sportsmanship. But Aokiji had grown up surrounded by corporate sharks and elite politicians in his father's manor. He knew how to read a mask.
Shindo's mouth was smiling. His eyes were cold, calculating, and predatory.
"Save the act," Aokiji said lazily, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets. "Your eyes aren't smiling. It's creepy."
Shindo's hand hung in the air for a second. The friendly facade slipped for a fraction of a heartbeat, revealing a sharp, aggressive glare, before the smile snapped back into place. He lowered his hand and chuckled. "Sharp. Good luck in there."
As Ketsubutsu walked away, Aokiji let out a breath. This isn't a school exam, he realized. It's a hunting ground.
[The Orientation Hall - The Sleepy Examiner]
The thousands of examinees were herded into a massive, stadium-like hall. At the front, standing behind a single podium, was a man who looked like he was held together entirely by caffeine and despair.
"Um... test... test. Is this on?"
Yokumiru Mera, a member of the Hero Public Safety Commission, leaned into the microphone. He had deep, purple bags under his eyes, his hair was a tangled mess, and his posture was a tragic slouch.
"Hello," Mera sighed into the mic, a sound so profoundly exhausted it made the entire audience feel tired. "I am Mera. I haven't slept in roughly a week. We are very short-staffed due to recent... events. Anyway. Out of the 1,540 of you here, exactly 100 will pass this first phase. I know, it's a harsh cut. I'm too tired to care."
Aokiji perked up slightly, staring at the man on the screen.
This guy... Aokiji thought, a rare spark of profound respect lighting up in his chest. He understands me. He is my spirit animal.
Mera held up three small, circular devices and a soft, orange ball.
"The rules are simple. Everyone gets three of these targets. You must attach them to your body in visible locations. You also get six of these balls. If a ball hits your target, it lights up red. Three red lights, and you fail."
Mera dropped the ball, letting it bounce pathetically off the podium.
"To pass, you must be the one to eliminate two other people. That means lighting up their third target. That's it. Simple, right? Good. Now, please retrieve your items. The room is about to open up."
[The Arena - The U.A. Crush]
The students quickly attached their targets. Aokiji placed one on his left shoulder, one on his right thigh, and one squarely on his chest. He held his six orange balls loosely in his right hand.
KACHUNK.
The walls and ceiling of the massive orientation hall suddenly began to unfold like the petals of an enormous, mechanical flower. The roof peeled back, exposing the blue sky, while the floor expanded, revealing a vast, artificial terrain. There were city ruins, mountain zones, and industrial factories, all connected in one massive dome.
"Class A! We need to stick together!" Midoriya shouted, his tactical mind already racing. "There's strength in numbers!"
Bakugo scoffed, already walking away. "Screw that! It's a free-for-all! I'm not babysitting you losers!"
Kirishima and Kaminari chased after him. "Wait, Bakugo! Don't be an idiot!"
BZZZZZT!
The starting horn blared. The Provisional License Exam had officially begun.
Immediately, Midoriya froze. The hair on his arms stood up.
He looked around. The hundreds of students from other schools weren't scattering into the terrain to hide. They weren't fighting each other.
They were all turning. They were all looking at the exact same spot.
They were looking at Class 1-A.
"Oh no..." Midoriya whispered, the blood draining from his face. "The U.A. Sports Festival... It was broadcasted nationally. Every single school here knows our quirks, our weaknesses, our fighting styles."
A shadow fell over the U.A. students as hundreds of upperclassmen from rival schools rushed toward them like a tidal wave, their orange balls raised like weapons.
"They aren't fighting each other!" Iida yelled, stepping into a defensive stance. "They're trying to eliminate us first!"
"It's the Tradition of the Crush!" Yaoyorozu gasped, creating a massive metal shield.
From the front of the rushing mob, Shindo of Ketsubutsu Academy leaped into the air. His fake smile was entirely gone, replaced by a fierce, competitive snarl.
"Sorry, U.A.!" Shindo yelled, slamming his hands onto the rocky ground. "But the easiest targets go first!"
RUMBLE.
Shindo's quirk, Vibrate, sent a catastrophic shockwave through the tectonic plates of the artificial arena. The ground didn't just shake; it shattered. Massive fissures tore through the earth, throwing chunks of concrete and dirt into the air.
Class 1-A lost their footing entirely. The ground beneath them gave way, forcing them to scatter in every direction to avoid being crushed or falling into the deep crevices.
Aokiji felt the earth vanish from beneath his boots. He exhaled, creating a smooth slide of ice under his feet to surf the collapsing debris, gliding away from the epicenter of the quake. The dust rose in thick, choking clouds, completely blinding the battlefield.
[Sector 4 - The Rocky Terrain]
The dust slowly began to settle.
Aokiji slid to a halt at the bottom of a shallow, rocky ravine. The terrain was uneven, littered with boulders and jagged stones. He stood up straight, brushing off the dust from his jacket.
He looked around. He was completely alone. No Midoriya. No Bakugo. No Uraraka. Shindo's earthquake had successfully fractured their class.
Aokiji exhaled a long breath. The micro-vents on his collar hissed softly, releasing a tiny plume of white steam as his body regulated its temperature.
Crunch. Crunch.
The sound of boots on gravel echoed in the quiet ravine.
Aokiji didn't turn around immediately. His eyes lazily tracked the shadows moving over the rocks.
From the dust, five figures emerged. They wore matching uniforms—upperclassmen from a school Aokiji didn't recognize. They had him completely surrounded, cutting off all exits from the ravine.
"Well, well, well," the leader of the group smirked, tossing an orange ball lightly in his hand. "Look what the earthquake shook loose. The Ice Prince himself."
Aokiji turned slowly, his posture relaxed, almost slouching. He looked at the five teenagers. "Are you guys lost? The main party is back that way."
"We're exactly where we want to be," a tall girl to his left sneered. "We saw the news, U.A. boy. We saw what happened at Kamino."
Aokiji's lazy expression didn't change, but his eyes sharpened imperceptibly.
"Our intel network is pretty thorough," the leader continued, taking a step closer, cracking his knuckles. "We know you went past your limits to help All Might. We know your body took a massive hit. You've been out of commission for weeks."
The leader stopped, a cruel, confident grin spreading across his face.
"You can't freeze a whole stadium anymore, can you? You can't even unleash a fraction of that raw power without tearing your own arm apart. You're running on empty."
Aokiji remained silent, studying the newly exposed skin of his left hand, flexing the tendons slowly.
"You're just a broken prodigy," a boy directly behind Aokiji sneered.
With a sharp SHING, the leader of the group drew a long, serrated sword from a sheath on his back—a support item clearly designed to channel a quirk. The metal glinted menacingly under the artificial sun.
The leader pointed the blade directly at Aokiji's chest target.
"Well," the upperclassman grinned, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of the hunt. "Let's verify that, shall we?"
Aokiji stood in the center of the trap. No heavy ice walls. No massive glaciers. He was grounded, stripped of his overwhelming area-of-effect power.
But as he looked at the five confident hunters surrounding him, his eyes were as cold and deep as an abyss.
"Verify?" Aokiji whispered, the air around him dropping a few degrees.
He didn't reach for a massive wave of ice. He just let out a slow, frosty breath.
.
.