UA High School Stadium - Morning
"HELLOOOOOO, SPORTS FESTIVAL FANS!"
Present Mic's voice exploded across the stadium speakers, so loud that nearby spectators actually flinched. The sun hung bright in a cloudless sky, and the stadium was packed—absolutely packed—with people who'd come from all over Japan to witness the next generation of heroes.
"ARE YOU READY FOR THE MOST EXCITING EVENT OF THE YEAR?!"
The crowd roared in response, a wave of sound that shook the air itself. Fireworks erupted overhead—red, blue, gold—painting the sky with brilliant colors that reflected off the stadium's massive screens.
"I SAID, ARE YOU READY?!" Present Mic shouted again, feeding off the energy.
The response was even louder this time, thousands of voices united in anticipation.
In the announcer's booth high above the arena floor, Present Mic grinned behind his sunglasses while his co-announcer sat slumped in his seat, looking like he'd rather be literally anywhere else.
"With me today is my co-host, the always enthusiastic Eraserhead!" Present Mic gestured dramatically toward Aizawa, who was still covered in bandages from the USJ incident.
"I was forced to do this," Aizawa muttered into his microphone, his voice dry as dust.
"Don't be so gloomy! This is the UA Sports Festival! The event where tomorrow's heroes show the world what they've got!" Present Mic swept his arm toward a specific section of the stadium. "And speaking of the world watching—let's give a shout-out to all the pro heroes and agency representatives here to scout our talented students!"
The camera panned across a dedicated section filled with well-dressed men and women, many with cameras and tablets, all watching with professional interest. Some wore business suits, others had hero costumes visible beneath blazers. They represented the top agencies in Japan, here to find the next generation of sidekicks and proteges.
"That's right, listeners! Hundreds of agencies have sent scouts today! One good performance could change a student's entire future!" Present Mic's voice somehow got even more enthusiastic. "The pressure is ON!"
"You're not helping," Aizawa said flatly.
"I'm HYPING! There's a difference!"
Teachers' Viewing Box
The UA faculty had their own private box with an excellent view of the arena through large glass windows. The atmosphere was more subdued here, though an undercurrent of excitement ran through the group.
"The turnout is impressive," Cementoss observed, his gravelly voice rumbling as he surveyed the packed stadium through the glass. "Even more than last year."
"The USJ incident drew attention," Principal Nezu said from his seat, his paws folded neatly. His dark eyes gleamed with something that might have been satisfaction. "The public wants to see the students who survived a villain attack. Morbid curiosity, perhaps, but it works in our favor."
"It puts extra pressure on Class 1-A," Vlad King noted, crossing his arms. "They're already dealing with the trauma of that event."
"They're hero students," Snipe said, adjusting his hat. "Learning to perform under pressure is part of the curriculum."
All Might stood slightly apart from the others, his skeletal form hunched as he stared through the glass down at the tunnel where the students would soon emerge. His sunken eyes were distant, remembering a conversation from days ago.
Flashback - Three Days Prior
"Young Midoriya," All Might had said, his voice serious despite his skeletal appearance. They stood in an empty classroom after hours, the orange light of sunset streaming through the windows.
Midoriya had looked up at him with those wide, earnest eyes. "Yes, All Might?"
"The Sports Festival... the world will be watching. Pro heroes, agencies, the public. This is your chance." All Might had placed a bony hand on his successor's shoulder. "You must show them what you can do. Show them you have what it takes to be a hero."
"I..." Midoriya's hand had clenched into a fist. "I'll do my best! I promise!"
"Not just your best, my boy." All Might's voice had been firm, determined. "I want you to win. Show everyone—show the world—that you have the heart of a true hero. That you can stand at the top."
Midoriya's eyes had widened. "Win? But there are so many strong people in the school—"
"Which is exactly why winning would mean something." All Might had smiled, but his eyes were serious. "I believe in you, Young Midoriya. Now you need to believe in yourself."
'Am I asking too much?' All Might thought now, his hands clenching. 'He's still learning to control One For All. Still building his foundation. But if he's to be my successor, he needs to learn how to carry expectations. How to stand tall when the world is watching.
He needs to learn to win.'
"All Might?" Nezu's voice pulled him from his thoughts. "You look more worried than usual."
"I'm fine," All Might said, forcing a smile that looked ghoulish on his skeletal face. "Just... thinking about the students."
Nezu's eyes fixed on him with unnerving intelligence. "You seem particularly invested in this year's festival."
All Might didn't answer, but his gaze drifted back to the tunnel.
'Win, Young Midoriya. Show them the hero I know you can become.'
Pro Heroes Section
The professional hero section was a who's who of Japan's hero society. Costumes in every color imaginable, heroes of every size and specialty, all gathered to watch the next generation and scout for talent.
In one of the prominent seats sat Endeavor, the Number Two Hero. His massive frame filled the seat, flames crackling around his shoulders. His turquoise eyes were fixed on the arena floor with burning intensity, waiting.
"Endeavor," a hero beside him ventured cautiously. "I heard both your sons are in Class 1-A this year."
Endeavor didn't respond, his jaw tight. His flames burned slightly hotter.
"That must be... interesting," the hero continued, then wisely fell silent when Endeavor's glare turned his direction.
'Both of them,' Endeavor thought, his expression dark. 'Shoto will show them all what my masterpiece can do. As for the other one...'
His flames crackled, reflecting his irritation at even having to think about Tsubaki.
Nearby, Best Jeanist sat with perfect posture, his denim-themed costume immaculate. "Class 1-A has drawn considerable attention this year. The villain attack has made them... notable."
"It's not just the attack," said a hero. "I heard they have some outstanding students even for U.A standards."
Several heroes nearby shifted listening to the conversation.
"This should be very entertaining," Best Jeanist said, his covered face impossible to read.
Stadium Perimeter - Security Detail
"I still can't believe we got stuck with security duty," Mt. Lady grumbled, her regular-sized form leaning against a stadium wall outside the main venue. "We should be inside watching!"
"Someone's gotta make sure no villains try anything," Death Arms replied, his massive arms crossed over his chest. His eyes constantly scanned the perimeter and the crowds entering the stadium, alert for any threats. "After what happened at the USJ, we can't be too careful."
Kamui Woods nodded, his wooden features serious as he surveyed the area from a different angle. "The students have been through enough. Our job is to make sure they can compete without worrying about another attack."
"I know, I know," Mt. Lady sighed dramatically. "Doesn't mean I have to like it. Do you know how rare it is to see the Sports Festival live? And we're stuck out here!"
"Would you rather be the one explaining to the media if something goes wrong because we weren't paying attention?" Death Arms asked pointedly.
Mt. Lady deflated slightly. "...No."
An explosion of cheers from inside the stadium made them all turn toward the entrance.
"Sounds like it's starting," Kamui Woods said.
Death Arms cracked his knuckles, his expression serious. "Stay alert. If something happens, we need to be ready to move."
They returned to their patrol, professional and focused, even as Present Mic's voice echoed from within, building excitement for the main event.
Class 1-A Locker Room
The roar of the crowd was muffled but still audible through the thick walls. Tsubaki could feel it—a constant rumble, like distant thunder, accompanied by the occasional eruption of cheers that shook the very foundation of the building.
His classmates were in various states of preparation. Some stretched, some paced, some sat quietly trying to center themselves. The nervous energy in the room was palpable, thick enough to cut.
"Man, there are so many people out there," Kaminari said, his voice slightly higher than usual. "Like, SO many people."
"Try not to think about it," Kirishima suggested, though his own leg was bouncing with nervous energy. "Just focus on doing your best!"
"You'll be fine Kaminari," Asui said, though she looked nervous herself. "Ribbit."
Yaoyorozu stood near the center of the room, clipboard in hand, her posture perfect though her hands were clasped tightly around it. Tsubaki sat on a bench nearby, eyes closed, breathing steady. He was centered, focused, ready. The crowd's roar didn't shake him. This was what he'd trained for. What everything had built toward.
The door opened, and Midoriya walked in from the restroom, looking slightly pale.
"You okay, Midoriya?" Uraraka asked with concern.
"Y-yeah! Just... a lot of people out there, huh?" He laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his head.
"Hey, Midoriya."
The voice cut through the nervous chatter like a blade. Everyone turned to see Shoto standing, his heterochromatic eyes fixed on the green-haired boy with an intensity that made several students step back unconsciously.
Midoriya froze. "T-Todoroki-kun?"
Shoto walked toward him, his expression cold and unreadable. The temperature in the room seemed to drop slightly.
"Objectively speaking, I'm stronger than you," Shoto said, his voice flat and certain. "All Might has his eye on you, doesn't he?"
The room went silent. Completely silent.
Midoriya's eyes widened. "I... what? I don't—"
"I'm not sure why," Shoto continued, his voice carrying that same cold certainty, "but I'm going to beat you. I don't care if you're connected to All Might or if everyone here sees you as competition."
Several classmates shifted uncomfortably. The declaration was direct, almost brutal in its honesty.
Midoriya stood frozen for a moment, his face cycling through shock, confusion, and then—something harder. His jaw tightened, his hands clenching at his sides.
"You're... you're right that you're probably stronger than me," Midoriya said, his voice shaking slightly but growing steadier with each word. "A lot of people here are stronger than me right now. But..."
He looked up, meeting Shoto's eyes directly despite the obvious gap in their confidence.
"But I'm not going to just roll over! So even if you're stronger, even if everyone thinks I'll lose—I'm going to give it everything I've got!" His voice was louder now, more determined.
"I'm going to try my hardest to win!"
The room seemed to hold its breath. Midoriya, who usually stuttered and backed down, was standing his ground against one of the strongest students in their class.
Shoto's expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes—respect, perhaps, or acknowledgment.
"Good," Shoto said simply. Then his gaze shifted, moving past Midoriya to find his brother.
Tsubaki had opened his eyes, was looking directly at Shoto with an expression of absolute coldness.
"Tsubaki," Shoto said, his voice unchanged. "What you said in the hallway about winning—it won't happen. I'm the one who's going to stand at the top."
Tsubaki stood slowly, his movements measured and controlled. The air seemed to crystallize around him, the temperature dropping further.
"You're going to stand at the top?" Tsubaki asked, his voice quiet but carrying clearly through the silent room.
"That's right."
The two brothers stared at each other across the locker room. Shoto's eyes held defiance and determination. Tsubaki's held something colder—absolute certainty in his own superiority.
"Then you're deluding yourself," Tsubaki said simply.
Before either could continue, another voice cut in.
"Both of you are pretty damn confident for people who haven't won shit yet."
Bakugo stood from where he'd been sitting, his red eyes gleaming with fierce excitement. Smoke rose from his palms as his quirk sparked unconsciously.
"All this talk about who's gonna win, who's gonna beat who—it's all meaningless noise." His grin was sharp and predatory. "Because I'm the one who's taking first place. All of you should get ready to eat dirt."
The room now held three separate sources of overwhelming confidence, each radiating absolute certainty in their own victory. The tension was almost physical, pressing against everyone else in the space.
Tsubaki's eyes shifted, taking in both his brother and Bakugo, his expression utterly unmoved.
"It doesn't matter," he said, his voice cutting through the rising tension like a blade. "Whether I have to take all of you down to win, or just one of you, or everyone in this stadium."
He looked at each of them in turn—Shoto, Bakugo, even Midoriya who stood nearby with clenched fists.
"The final outcome won't change. I will be the winner."
The certainty in Tsubaki's voice wasn't arrogance—it was stated fact, as immutable as gravity.
"Whoa, whoa, WHOA!" Kaminari jumped forward, his hands raised in a placating gesture. "Can we maybe not kill each other before the festival even starts?!"
"Seriously, you guys!" Mina added, her voice nervous but determined. "We're all in the same class! Can't we save the competition for the actual competition?!"
The four—Tsubaki, Shoto, Bakugo, and Midoriya—remained locked in their tense standoff for another moment. Then, as if by unspoken agreement, they each turned away.
The message had been sent and received.
No more words were needed.
"ALRIGHT, STUDENTS!"
Present Mic's voice boomed through the intercom system, making everyone jump.
"THE GAMES ARE ABOUT TO BEGIN! ALL FIRST-YEAR CLASSES, PLEASE LINE UP IN THE TUNNEL! IT'S TIME TO SHOW THE WORLD WHAT YOU'VE GOT!"
The crowd's roar intensified, a wave of sound that penetrated even into the locker room.
Yaoyorozu immediately stepped forward, her voice clear and authoritative despite the tension. "Everyone! Please form an orderly line! We need to present ourselves as professionals, not a mob!"
She moved to the door, clipboard still in hand, her posture perfect. "Class 1-A, let's show them what we're capable of!"
The class began filing toward the door, the nervous energy transforming into something else—determination, excitement, fear all mixed together into a potent cocktail.
Tsubaki took his position at the front of the line as class president, with Yaoyorozu beside him as vice president. Behind them, their classmates lined up, each dealing with their own nerves and anticipation in their own ways.
"You okay, Todoroki-san?" Yaoyorozu asked quietly as they waited in position.
"I'm fine," Tsubaki replied, his eyes fixed forward on the tunnel ahead. Through the darkness, he could see light—the stadium, the arena, the stage where everything would be decided.
"That was... intense back there."
"It doesn't matter." Tsubaki's voice was steady. "Words are meaningless. Only results will speak today."
Yaoyorozu studied his profile, seeing the absolute focus there, the unwavering determination.' He really believes he'll win,'
she thought. 'No doubt. No fear. Just certainty.'
'I hope I can find even a fraction of that confidence.'
The Tunnel
The first-year classes lined up in their designated order, the tunnel stretching before them like a throat leading to the world beyond. Class 1-A stood at the front, as they'd been instructed—the class that had faced villains, survived, and now would compete under the world's gaze.
Behind them, Class 1-B muttered among themselves, some shooting jealous or competitive looks at the students ahead.
Further back, the general studies and support course students clustered, many looking nervous, others determined.
Shinso stood among the general studies students, his purple hair visible even in the dim tunnel light. His tired eyes fixed on the back of Tsubaki's head, remembering their confrontation in the hallway.
'I will win that's what you said,' Shinso thought. 'Let's see if you can back up those words when everyone's watching.'
The light at the tunnel's end grew brighter. Present Mic's voice echoed from beyond, building anticipation.
"AND NOW, THE MOMENT YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR!"
Tsubaki felt the eyes of the world, unseen but present, fixed on this moment. Cameras broadcasting live across Japan. Pro heroes evaluating. Agencies deciding futures. His father, somewhere in that crowd, watching.
'Show them,' he thought, his hands steady at his sides.' Show them all what you're capable of. Make them see you. Make them remember your name.'
"LET'S GIVE A HUGE WELCOME TO THE STARS OF THIS YEAR'S FESTIVAL!"
"FIRST IS THE CLASS THAT FACED VILLAINS AND SURVIVED! THE CLASS THAT STOOD THEIR GROUND WHEN CHAOS STRUCK! THE CLASS EVERYONE'S BEEN WAITING TO SEE!"
Tsubaki felt Yaoyorozu tense beside him, her breath catching.
"HERE THEY COME! THE STUDENTS WHO'VE ALREADY PROVEN THEIR COURAGE!"
The stadium's roar was deafening now, a physical force that slammed into them even before they emerged.
"PUT YOUR HANDS TOGETHER FOR UA'S FIRST-YEAR HERO COURSE—CLASS 1-A!"
They stepped forward into the light.
The Arena
The world exploded into sound and light and color.
The stadium stretched out before them, massive beyond comprehension. Tiers of seats rose toward the sky, every single one filled with people screaming, cheering, waving flags and banners. The arena floor gleamed under the bright sun, cameras positioned at every angle, their lenses reflecting light like dozens of watching eyes.
And the crowd—the sheer noise of them hit like a physical force. Thousands of voices unified into a roar that shook the air itself.
Tsubaki's eyes swept across the scene, taking it all in. The people. The cameras. The flashing of photography equipment. The massive screens displaying their faces to those too far away to see clearly.
'This is it,' he thought, his stride never faltering. 'This is my stage.'
Beside him, he could see classmates reacting—Kaminari's nervous wave, Mina's excited bounce, Kirishima's fierce grin. Some looked overwhelmed. Others energized.
Tsubaki felt nothing but excitement.
His eyes found the section where Endeavor sat, the Number Two Hero's flames visible even from this distance. For a brief moment, their eyes met across the stadium.
'Watch carefully, Father,' Tsubaki thought, his expression cold and determined. 'Watch as your discarded son shows you exactly what you threw away.'
His confidence didn't waver. Not from the size of the crowd. Not from the pressure of the moment. Not from the challenges ahead.
He was ready.
They all were.
The Sports Festival had begun.
To Be Continued...
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Author's note
Hope you enjoyed the chapter and since our OC will be saying the speech I'd like to hear you ideas on what he should say.
If you are enjoying the story drop some power stones to show you support.