The front door clicked shut behind him.
The apartment was dark.
Too dark.
"Izuku?"
The light snapped on.
Inko stood in the hallway in her pajamas, hair a mess, eyes red and puffy like she hadn't slept properly in days. Relief flashed across her face for exactly half a second—
Then it shattered.
"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" she shouted, rushing him before he could even take his shoes off.
Her hands were on him instantly, gripping his jacket, pulling him forward, checking his arms, his chest, his face like she could will injuries into existence just by missing them.
"You didn't answer your phone on Saturday. Or today. I thought— I thought—" she said, voice shaking.
She choked, breath hitching.
Izuku froze.
"…Sunday?" he said slowly.
Inko looked up at him, eyes blazing through tears. "YES, Sunday! You've been gone for two days!"
Behind him, unseen to Inko, Hoopa floated into view.
It had the audacity to smirk.
Izuku felt it.
He turned his head just enough.
Hoopa clasped its hands together innocently. "Time is very bendy between doors."
Izuku's eye twitched.
Hoopa shrugged, rings chiming softly. "You did not ask."
Izuku clenched his jaw, then refocused as Inko grabbed his face with both hands, forcing him to look at her.
"Tell me what happened," she demanded, voice trembling. "Now. No excuses."
Izuku swallowed hard.
"I'm sorry," he said immediately. "I didn't mean for that to happen. I thought I'd only be gone a few hours."
Her grip loosened just a little, confusion mixing with fear. "A few… hours?"
Izuku nodded. "I messed up. Or— someone helping me did."
Hoopa waved cheerfully.
Izuku shot it a glare sharp enough to kill lesser familiars.
Inko sagged, pressing her forehead against his chest as the adrenaline finally bled out of her.
"I was about to call the police," she whispered. "I thought you were dead."
Izuku's chest tightened painfully.
He wrapped his arms around her without hesitation, holding her as tightly as he dared.
"I'm here," he said quietly. "I'm really here. I swear."
She stayed like that for a long moment, breathing him in like she needed to be sure he was solid.
"…You're not hurt," she said finally, pulling back just enough to look at him again.
"No," Izuku replied. "I'm okay."
That was when her eyes narrowed.
"…Izuku Midoriya," she said slowly, "what exactly have you been hiding from me?"
He opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Hoopa leaned closer to his ear. "This is the part where you pick your words very carefully."
Izuku exhaled.
"…A lot," he admitted.
Inko stared at him for several seconds.
Then she pointed at the couch.
"Sit."
He obeyed immediately.
She crossed her arms, still shaking slightly. "You are not leaving my sight tonight. You are explaining everything you reasonably can. And tomorrow—"
She jabbed a finger at his chest.
"—we are setting rules."
Izuku nodded. "That's fair."
Hoopa drifted upward, humming to itself.
Izuku glanced at it again, irritation clear, as if telling it that it was on thin ice.
Hoopa grinned. "Hoopa likes ice."
.....
"So your quirk… it wasn't just regeneration," Inko said quietly.
She was sitting across from him now, tea untouched and gone cold between her hands. Her voice was steady, but the way her fingers curled around the cup gave her away.
Izuku shook his head. "No. I call it Evolution."
Inko looked up at him. "Evolution…"
"It lets me adapt," he explained. "Gain different powersets. Not all at once. Not randomly. It responds to what I survive, what I do."
She absorbed that in silence.
"The one I got most recently," Izuku continued, choosing his words carefully, "allowed me to go to a different world."
Inko blinked. Once. "Like a different country?"
"No," Izuku said gently. "A different world entirely."
Her breath caught.
He didn't rush her. He let the words sit, let her process them instead of overwhelming her the way the truth had overwhelmed him at first.
"…That's where you were," she said slowly. "Those two days."
"Yes."
"And you couldn't come back?" she asked, fear creeping in again.
"I could," Izuku said quickly. "I just didn't realize time would move differently. That part wasn't explained to me."
Inko closed her eyes and exhaled through her nose, long and shaky.
"You disappeared," she whispered. "For me, you just… vanished."
"I know," Izuku said. "I'm sorry. I swear I wasn't running away."
She opened her eyes and looked at him again. "Why go at all?"
Izuku hesitated.
"Because," he said honestly, "I needed to understand what kind of power I'm dealing with. And what kind of person might I become if I don't handle it carefully?"
Inko studied him for a long moment. Not the words, but the intent behind them.
"…Did you get hurt?" she asked.
"No."
"Did you hurt anyone?"
Izuku paused.
"…I stopped someone who would have hurt a lot of people," he said. "In that world."
Inko nodded slowly, accepting that for what it was.
"You always did run toward trouble," she murmured. "Even when you were little."
Izuku smiled faintly. "Yeah. Guess that didn't change."
She reached across the table and took his hand, squeezing it tightly.
"I don't understand everything you just told me," she said. "And honestly, some of it terrifies me."
Izuku swallowed.
"But," she continued, "you came home. You told me the truth. And you didn't brush off how scared I was."
She met his eyes.
"So I'm not going to tell you to stop being who you are."
Relief washed through him, sharp and unexpected.
"But," Inko added, tightening her grip, "you don't disappear for days without warning ever again. World-hopping quirk or not."
Izuku nodded immediately. "Deal."
She leaned back in her chair, exhaustion finally catching up to her.
"…Next time you visit another world," she said dryly, "you leave a note."
Izuku laughed softly. "I'll do better than that."
Behind him, unseen, Hoopa drifted lazily near the ceiling, listening with interest.
"Humans," it murmured to itself. "So dramatic about time."
Izuku glanced upward with a tired glare.
Hoopa gasped, offended.
The tension in the room finally eased, just a little.
...
[Congratulations on defeating All For One! You have gained 1x Diamond Ticket.]
[The user has gained:
* [Dragon Core]
|Mythical Trait|
Instead of ordinary energy reserves, your energy core is that of a dragon. If the average mage has a generator, you have a nuclear power plant in your heart.]
It wasn't loud. There was no surge of heat, no dramatic pulse of power ripping through his veins. Instead, it was… weight. Presence. Like something vast had settled into place behind his heartbeat and decided it belonged there.
Izuku exhaled slowly and pressed a hand to his chest.
Thump.
Thump.
Each beat felt deeper now, steadier. Not faster, not stronger in the obvious sense, just… enduring. As if whatever he drew on when he pushed himself past his limits was no longer a fragile reservoir that could run dry, but something that simply was.
A core.
A dragon's.
"So that's what it means," he murmured.
The endless juggling act. Regeneration, reinforcement, borrowed systems, foreign energies all competing for space. The strain he always felt when he stacked abilities too tightly, when Evolution had to explain away results that didn't quite add up.
A nuclear power plant instead of a generator.
Izuku let out a quiet, breathless laugh and stared up at the ceiling.
"This is going to fix a lot of my problems."
His phone buzzed softly in his hand.
You sure you're okay, Izuku? You went quiet for a bit. I was worried.
His smile softened immediately. He typed back without hesitation.
I'm okay. Really. Just… something good happened. I'm home. I'm safe. I promise
A pause.
…Good. Don't scare me like that again, hero.
He rolled onto his side, tucking the phone closer, the faint warmth in his chest syncing with the rhythm of his heart.
Hero.
The word felt heavier now. Not because of responsibility, but because of possibility.
Behind the smokescreen of Evolution, behind the careful lies and half-truths, something ancient and vast had taken root inside him. Not borrowed. Not temporary.
His own.
And for the first time since everything began, Izuku Midoriya felt like he finally had a foundation strong enough to carry what was coming next.
...
In another place-
The air was stale, heavy with disinfectant and ozone. Machines thrummed softly in the dark, their rhythm matching the slow, deliberate breaths of the man seated at the center of the room.
Shigaraki Tomura stood before his master, fists clenched.
"Sensei… who was that kid?"
He didn't bother hiding the edge in his voice this time.
"You saw that he could move faster than the eye could see. His punches destroyed the Nomu. High-Ends don't go down like that."
A low, amused sound escaped All For One.
"So you noticed," he said mildly.
One of the monitors flickered to life, replaying the moment again. A green blur. A shockwave. A Nomu collapsing in pieces.
"All Might's successor," All For One continued, tone almost nostalgic. "I had suspected, but this confirms it."
Shigaraki stiffened. "…That was One For All?"
"Yes." All For One nodded. "Stockpiling quirks grow exponentially over time. All Might carried it for decades. Of course, the next user would inherit an absurd foundation."
He gestured toward the frozen frame on-screen.
"Speed scales with strength. Durability with output. What you saw wasn't refinement," he said. "It was overflow."
Shigaraki scowled. "Then why didn't he fight like All Might?"
A thin smile tugged at All For One's lips.
"Because he's not All Might," he replied. "He hasn't learned how to shape it yet. That awkwardness, those sudden jumps in power-" the smile widened, sharp and knowing, "-those are the signs of a new inheritor struggling not to tear himself apart."
Shigaraki went silent, absorbing that.
"…So he's dangerous," he said at last.
All For One chuckled. "Not yet. Not in the way All Might was."
He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers.
"But he will be."
The monitors dimmed one by one.
"Which means, Tomura," All For One said calmly, "that the Symbol of Peace did not die with All Might."
Shigaraki's nails dug into his palms.
"He chose a successor," All For One finished. "And the war simply… moved forward. We must plan for this new variable now."
Shigaraki nodded.
....
"How are you holding up?" Izuku asked as he sat in All Might's office.
"Better, I can hold my powered-up form for eight hours a day now. But... that time is decreasing every day by half a minute or so as OFA is settling into its new vessel."
Izuku nodded,
"That makes sense."
An abrupt knock was heard at the door. All Might called for them to come in.
A tall blonde student froze abruptly at the door as he noted another student in the room with a vulnerable All Might.
"Mirio... I wanted you to meet another student in a similar situation to you... This is Izuku Midoriya," All Might explained as he ushered him to sit down.
It was subtle, but Izuku caught it immediately - the way Mirio's posture shifted, the instinctive alertness that snapped into place when he saw All Might seated, thinner, smaller, human. Vulnerable in a way the world was never meant to see.
Then Mirio smiled.
Bright. Easy. Disarming.
"Oh!" he said, rubbing the back of his head. "Uh, hey! Sorry, I didn't realize you had company, sir."
"It's quite alright," All Might replied warmly. "Please, come in. This conversation concerns you as well."
Mirio stepped inside and carefully closed the door behind him, eyes flicking once more to Izuku. Green hair, freckled, polite posture. He didn't look special.
Which immediately made Mirio suspicious.
All Might gestured to the chair across from Izuku. "Have a seat, Mirio."
As Mirio sat, All Might folded his hands together, expression growing serious.
"Both of you," he began, "are carrying burdens that very few people in this world can understand. Power that was never meant to be taken lightly."
Mirio's hands tightened on his knees. "You're saying… this is about the future."
"Yes," All Might replied. "About legacy."
He looked between them, voice steady despite the strain.
"One For All was never meant to create a single pillar forever," he said. "It exists to be carried forward."
The room grew quiet.
Izuku allowed himself a faint smile.
"So knowing that, I'd like for you two to have a friendly spar, in hopes that you may lean on each other when the time comes."
The two students grinned at each other.
....
The UA training room hummed softly as the doors sealed shut.
Padded floors. Reinforced walls. The observation glass darkened from the outside.
Mirio rolled his shoulders, grinning as he faced Izuku.
"So, Midoriya, right? Sensei said you're… adjusting to something tricky."
Izuku nodded, tugging his gloves tighter. "You could say that."
From the observation deck, All Might watched in silence, arms folded. His expression was calm, but his eyes missed nothing.
"Rules are simple," Mirio said cheerfully. "No lethal force, no permanent damage, and if one of us gets ringed out, that's it."
"Understood."
Mirio crouched slightly. "Ready?"
Izuku took a breath. The warmth in his chest stayed contained, deep and steady. He let only what he needed rise to the surface.
[Active Abilities: Atlas, Observation Haki, Four Arms, Light Step, Blackout.]
"Ready."
With a soft pulse of energy, a second pair of arms manifested from Izuku's sides, solid and real. Not monstrous, not exaggerated - simply there, as natural as his first two.
Mirio blinked.
"…Whoa," he said, grin widening. "Okay, I definitely wasn't expecting that."
Izuku flexed all four hands once, grounding himself. "Ready."
The buzzer sounded.
Mirio vanished.
He dropped through the floor with Permeation and surged forward at the same time, OFA-enhanced speed carrying him up behind Izuku in a single fluid motion.
Izuku didn't turn.
Observation Haki felt him coming.
He pivoted and brought up two arms to block while the other two countered.
Their fists collided.
The impact cracked like thunder, shockwaves rippling across the padded floor. Mirio skidded back several meters, boots screeching as he dug in.
"…You hit hard," Mirio said, eyes bright. "That's definitely OFA-level."
Izuku absorbed the recoil without flinching. Atlas distributed the force cleanly through his frame.
Mirio grinned and rushed again.
This time, he mixed Permeation with raw strikes, phasing through Izuku's guard and reappearing mid-swing. A punch clipped Izuku's shoulder and sent him sliding back a step, the floor denting beneath his heel.
Strong, Izuku noted. He's adapting fast.
Izuku advanced.
Four arms let him pressure and defend simultaneously - two intercepting Mirio's blows, two striking back in tight, controlled arcs. Mirio phased through one punch, only for another arm to already be waiting when he solidified.
"Okay," Mirio laughed breathlessly as he ducked away. "That's cheating."
Izuku didn't answer.
He stepped forward - and didn't touch the ground.
[Light Step] activated.
His foot planted on air as if it were solid, letting him change angles instantly. He dropped down at an impossible slant, swinging from above while his lower pair of arms guarded his core.
Mirio phased instinctively, but the shockwave from Atlas-enhanced movement still slammed into him, launching him toward the ring boundary.
Mirio twisted midair, landing just inside the line.
"Man," he said, shaking his arms out. "Sensei really found a monster."
Izuku exhaled slowly.
Then Mirio rushed again, faster this time, OFA reinforcing every step. He feinted low, phased through Izuku's torso, and came up behind him, both hands extended for a shove that would ring him out.
Izuku reacted instantly.
[Blackout].
Light vanished.
Not dimming. Not shadow.
Gone.
The space around them dropped into absolute darkness.
Mirio stumbled mid-motion. "—?!"
He wasn't blind long - barely half a second.
But Izuku didn't need more.
Observation Haki cut through the dark effortlessly. He stepped sideways on nothing, Light Step carrying him clear, and used Atlas not to strike, but to redirect.
He caught Mirio's arm with one hand and twisted, guiding his momentum forward.
The darkness lifted.
Mirio staggered.
One foot crossed the boundary.
The buzzer blared.
Silence.
Mirio looked down, then back up.
"…No way," he said, then laughed, loud and genuine. "That was awesome."
Izuku let the extra arms dissolve, Atlas easing down as the warmth in his chest settled.
"Thanks, you're quite strong yourself," Izuku complimented.
Mirio rubbed the back of his head, still grinning. "Coming from you? I'll take that."
Up above, the observation deck was no longer empty.
Aizawa stood with his arms crossed, red eyes half-lidded but sharp as ever. Present Mic leaned against the railing, visor pushed up. Nezu sat calmly atop the console, paws folded. Recovery Girl and Cementoss stood nearby, having been drawn in by the earlier shockwaves.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then-
"HOOOO BOY," Present Mic finally broke the silence. "Did you SEE that timing? That kid just deleted Togata's momentum like it owed him money!"
Cementoss nodded slowly. "The floor damage was minimal despite the force involved. That level of control with that output is… unusual."
Recovery Girl adjusted her glasses. "And neither of them overextended. No tearing, no backlash. That's rare, especially with newly acquired power."
Nezu's eyes gleamed with interest as he watched Izuku and Mirio talking below.
"Fascinating," he said softly. "Midoriya's movements appear inefficient at first glance, yet every action produces optimal results. Almost as if he has more options available than he lets on."
Aizawa's gaze stayed fixed on Izuku.
"Togata's stronger than most pros already," he said flatly. "And Midoriya didn't overpower him. He managed him."
Present Mic tilted his head. "None of you think Izuku looks like a mini All Might with more quirks?"
Aizawa didn't answer immediately.
Nezu chuckled quietly. "Appearances are such useful things, aren't they?"
All Might stood slightly apart from the others, hands clenched at his sides, watching the two boys below laugh and talk like it hadn't been a near-even clash of monsters.
"…They both did well," he said, voice steady.
Aizawa glanced at him. "You look relieved."
All Might smiled faintly.
"I am."
Below, Mirio clapped Izuku on the shoulder. "Hey, next time, I'm not letting you dictate the pace."
Izuku smiled back, polite and warm as he offered his hand to him.
"I'll be ready."
DAP.
....
[Congratulations on defeating the new vessel of OFA, you have gained 1x gold ticket.]
[You have gained:
* [Ace of All Trades]
|Epic Ability|
While this ability is active, your comprehension is massively boosted, you only need to read a book once to learn it completely, and you could imitate someone's martial art by watching a video. You could learn someone's martial art while you are exchanging blows. You learn and master skills at supernatural rates. This knowledge will be retained even after deactivation; however, the rate will be returned to normal.
Well this is useful.
Izuku smiled as he sat in Present Mic's English lesson. He flicked through the English textbook once.
Pages turned in a smooth blur.
Sentence structure.
Grammar rules.
Idioms, exceptions, edge cases, and the historical drift of language use.
It's all locked in.
By the time he reached the end of the chapter, Izuku closed the book and nodded to himself.
Got it.
At the front of the room, Present Mic was mid-rant.
"—and remember! Context matters! You can't just memorize vocab and expect to sound natural, yeah?!"
Izuku glanced back down at the book.
Contextual linguistic drift based on speaker intent, culture, and tone, his mind supplied effortlessly.
He resisted the urge to wince.
"…Right."
Ace of All Trades wasn't flashy.
No explosions. No visible tells.
But as Izuku leaned back in his chair, eyes half-lidded, he realized something quietly terrifying.
This wasn't just academics.
This applied to:
* Combat forms
* Hero tactics
* Quirk theory
* Strategy
* Deception
I could've understood Mirio's timing mid-fight, he thought. Not just react to it. Understand it.
His fingers tapped once against the desk.
Evolution was becoming an increasingly convincing lie.
Present Mic suddenly pointed at him.
"Midoriya! You look confident! C'mon, read the next paragraph!"
Izuku didn't flinch.
He stood, book unopened, and read it aloud.
Perfect pronunciation.
Natural cadence.
Not stiff. Not rehearsed.
The class stared.
Present Mic blinked once. Then grinned.
"YOOO! Okay, okay! Somebody's been studying!"
Izuku sat back down, smile mild, harmless, ordinary.
Inside, though, his thoughts were already racing ahead.
By the time homeroom rolled around, the classroom buzz had already shifted. People were restless. Anticipatory.
Aizawa stepped to the front of the room, capture weapon hanging loose around his shoulders.
"We're proceeding with the Sports Festival," he said flatly.
The room exploded.
"What? Already?!"
"Isn't it a bit earlier than last year?"
"Yes!"
"No way, I'm not ready!"
"THIS IS MY MOMENT!"
Aizawa let it run for exactly five seconds before flicking his scarf against the board with a snap.
"Calm down," he said. "This isn't a surprise. It was always scheduled around this time."
He scanned the room, tired eyes lingering on a few students longer than others.
"The Sports Festival is not a game," he continued. "It's a public evaluation. Every hero agency in the country will be watching."
That sobered them a little.
"For some of you," Aizawa added, "this will be your first real chance to define how the world sees you."
Izuku felt that land heavier than it probably did for anyone else.
Define how the world sees you…
The smokescreen mattered more than ever now.
Across the room, Bakugo was already grinning, sparks popping from his palms. Todoroki sat still, expression unreadable. Uraraka leaned forward, nervous but determined.
Mirio, standing near the back with a few third-years who had come to observe, caught Izuku's eye and gave him a quick thumbs-up.
Izuku returned a small nod.
Public stage. Limited force. Controlled narrative.
Ace of All Trades quietly began breaking the Festival down into probabilities. Event types. Crowd psychology. Camera angles. What looked impressive versus what actually won matches.
Aizawa finished with his usual blunt final note.
I think this is probably the time to call him out.
.....
"So you're going to give a speech for the sports festival?" Himiko and Inko asked with a glint in their eye.
Izuku nodded.
"What's your plan?" Himiko asked.
Izuku didn't hesitate.
"I'm going to tell them I'm going to win."
Inko blinked. "Izu—"
"And I'm not going to justify it," Izuku continued calmly. "No speeches about effort. No gratitude tour. No 'I'll do my best.'"
Himiko's smile slowly stretched. "Oh. I like this already."
Izuku leaned back in his chair, expression relaxed, almost bored.
"I'll thank U.A. for the stage," he said. "I'll acknowledge the other students. And then I'll tell them that whether they're first-years, second-years, or third-years, it won't matter."
Inko frowned. "That sounds… a little much."
"It's not a threat," Izuku said evenly. "I won't insult anyone. I won't raise my voice. I won't posture."
He looked at them, green eyes steady.
"It's a fact."
That made Inko go quiet.
Himiko, on the other hand, looked delighted.
"You're not selling confidence," she said.
Izuku nodded. "Exactly."
He folded his hands on the table.
"The strongest students will think I'm arrogant. The smart ones will start paying attention. The pros will remember my name."
Inko opened her mouth, then closed it, studying him more carefully.
"…You're sure this won't make you a target?"
Izuku smiled faintly.
"I already am."
Himiko laughed softly. "Oh wow. You've changed."
"Not really," Izuku replied. "I've just stopped pretending I don't know what I can do."
A beat of silence.
Then Inko sighed, rubbing her temples. "I don't know whether to be proud or terrified."
"Both," Himiko said cheerfully.
Izuku stood, picking up his bag.
"They're expecting another Symbol of Peace," he said over his shoulder. "Someone hopeful. Someone inspiring."
He paused at the doorway.
"I'm not here to inspire them," he finished. "I'm here to end the competition."
The door clicked shut behind him.
Himiko stared after him, eyes shining.
"…He's going to be a problem."
Inko swallowed.
"…Yes," she agreed softly.
.....
Izuku stepped onto the stage as the roar of the stadium washed over him.
Floodlights burned hot against his eyes. Tens of thousands of voices blurred into a single, living thing. Cameras tracked his every step.
"NOW!" Present Mic's voice boomed, electric with hype. "For a speech from our First-Year representative, the student who took first place in the entrance exam! IZUKU… MIDORIYA!"
Applause thundered.
Izuku stopped at the center of the platform.
He didn't wave.
Didn't bow.
Didn't rush to speak.
He just stood there, hands in his pockets, posture loose, gaze sweeping across the stadium like he was taking inventory.
The noise slowly died down.
Not because Present Mic cued them.
Because Izuku waited.
When he finally leaned toward the mic, his voice carried easily. Calm. Clear. Unforced.
"Thank you for coming."
That was it.
A pause.
"I'll keep this short."
A ripple of murmurs spread. That wasn't how these speeches went.
"I know what this festival is," Izuku continued. "A chance to show off. To get noticed. To prove something."
He shrugged lightly.
"That's not why I'm here."
The crowd leaned in.
"I'm here because I have to be."
Not shouted.
Not challenged.
Stated.
Like gravity.
Somewhere in the stands, Bakugo bristled. Todoroki's eyes narrowed. Pros straightened in their seats.
Izuku went on.
"I don't care if you're a first-year like me. I don't care if you're a second- or third-year. I don't care how famous your family is, how flashy your Quirk looks, or how many people believe in you."
His eyes lifted, meeting the camera dead-on.
"When this festival ends, I'll be standing at the top."
The stadium went dead silent.
Izuku smiled - not wide, not cruel. Just certain.
"This isn't a threat," he said. "I'm not saying you shouldn't try. You absolutely should."
A beat.
"I'm saying it won't change the outcome."
The reaction hit like a delayed explosion.
Boos. Cheers. Shocked laughter. Furious shouting. Pure, electric chaos.
Izuku straightened, stepping back from the mic.
"So go all out," he finished calmly. "And please... don't bore more."
Izuku had already taken two steps away from the microphone when he paused.
He stopped.
Tilted his head slightly.
As if he'd just remembered something trivial.
"Oh," he said, turning just enough for the cameras to catch his face again.
The stadium quieted, confused murmurs rippling outward.
"And to the old man and his group watching this."
A few teachers stiffened.
Some pros frowned.
Izuku's eyes lifted, not to the crowd, but past it. As if he were looking through the screen itself.
"Watch closely," he continued calmly. "Because this—" he gestured vaguely toward the arena behind him, "—is what you'll have to prepare against."
A beat.
"You should probably catch me first," he added, tone almost conversational.
Then his smile sharpened, just a fraction.
"Before I find you."
The air went cold.
Somewhere far away, in a darkened room, monitors flickered.
Izuku sighed softly, like he was disappointed in himself for forgetting one last thing.
"Oh. And old man?" He glanced back at the camera, grin widening.
"Out of all the quirks that could help you…"
He leaned in just enough for the mic to catch it clearly.
"There really isn't one that can fix your face?"
For half a second, the world stopped.
Then the stadium erupted.
Shock. Laughter. Outrage. Screaming commentators. Present Mic choking mid-shout. Teachers half-rising from their seats.
Izuku didn't wait for the fallout.
He turned and walked off the stage, hands in his pockets, grin unrepentant.
Behind him, chaos bloomed.
And somewhere in the dark, an old man's smile slowly, slowly disappeared.
....
The teachers' lounge was unusually quiet.
Not calm.
Quiet.
The broadcast played on mute on one of the wall-mounted screens, frozen on the image of Izuku Midoriya walking off the stage, a grin still etched across his face.
All Might stood near the window, arms folded, staring straight ahead.
Nezu sat at the low table with a cup of tea, tail swaying gently, eyes bright with unmistakable interest.
Midnight broke the silence first.
"…Did he," she asked slowly, one brow rising, "did he really just call out All For One? Acknowledge that he exists?"
No one answered immediately.
Present Mic rubbed his temples. "I mean— he didn't say the name, but c'mon. That wasn't subtle. At all."
Aizawa, slouched on the couch, opened one eye. "Subtlety hasn't been his thing lately. I think he's had a new development, especially with that blackout ability he showed against Togata."
All Might finally exhaled.
"Yes," he said quietly. "Yes, he did just call out that man."
Midnight stared at the screen, then let out a low whistle. "That's not confidence. That's declaring war."
Nezu lifted his teacup, unfazed. "Or forcing a reaction."
Several heads turned toward him.
"He has just told every villain with a brain that he is aware of them," Nezu continued pleasantly. "More importantly, he implied initiative. Not defense."
All Might's hands clenched slightly.
"That kind of provocation…" Midnight said, folding her arms, "You don't do that unless you're certain you can survive the response."
Nezu's smile widened. "Or unless you want them to move before they're ready."
Aizawa snorted softly. "That kid's either suicidal or terrifying."
All Might didn't look away from the window.
"He knows," he said. "He knows exactly who All For One is."
The room stilled.
Nezu tilted his head. "That's… interesting."
All Might nodded once. "And he knows All For One is watching."
Midnight shook her head slowly. "You know what really scares me?"
"What?" Present Mic asked.
She glanced at the frozen image of Izuku again.
"He didn't look angry," she said. "Or afraid. Or emotional at all."
Nezu set his teacup down.
"He looked," he said thoughtfully, "like someone looking forward to it."
No one laughed.
Young Midoriya... What have you done?
All Might continued stirring in his thoughts,
It took me everything to defeat him... Have you really... surpassed that level already?
Outside the lounge, the Sports Festival roared on.
.....
In another part of Japan,
The room was dark, lit only by the pale glow of a dozen monitors.
Izuku Midoriya's face was frozen on-screen, caught mid-grin as he walked away from the podium. The audio replayed his words again, slower this time, every syllable dissected.
Shigaraki Tomura stood before the screens, fingers twitching violently at his sides.
"Master!" he snapped. "How does he know about you?!"
His voice cracked with fury.
"And how can we let this slide?! He just threatened us. On live television!"
The figure seated in the shadows did not move.
All For One watched the screen in silence, respirator hissing softly with each measured breath. His posture was relaxed, almost indulgent, like a man watching a particularly amusing play.
"…Threatened," he repeated mildly.
Shigaraki turned on him. "You heard him! He told us to watch closely! He said we should catch him before he catches us!"
A low chuckle echoed through the room.
"Oh, Tomura," All For One said, almost fondly. "You mistake audacity for danger."
Shigaraki clenched his fists. "He mocked you."
"Yes," All For One agreed. "And that is what makes this interesting."
One of the monitors zoomed in, replaying Izuku's eyes. Calm. Focused. Unafraid.
"He knows I exist," All For One continued. "Which narrows the possibilities considerably."
Shigaraki gritted his teeth. "Then he's connected to All Might."
"Obviously," All For One replied. "And more than that… he is convinced that his quirk makes him untouchable."
He leaned forward slightly.
"That confidence," he said softly, "is the hallmark of a newly empowered successor."
Shigaraki's eyes widened. "You think he's—"
"Yes," All For One said, certainty lacing his tone. "One For All."
The words settled like poison in the air.
"All Might has finally chosen," All For One went on. "And like every new bearer, the boy believes power alone makes him bold."
Shigaraki snarled. "Then let me go after him."
All For One raised a hand.
"No."
Shigaraki froze.
"Not yet," his master said calmly. "He wants us to react. He wants to be tested."
A pause.
"And we will," All For One added. "But on our schedule."
Shigaraki's breathing grew ragged. "He humiliated you."
All For One smiled beneath the mask.
"He entertained me," he corrected. "And he revealed something far more valuable."
Shigaraki frowned. "…What?"
All For One tapped the screen, directly over Izuku's face.
"He believes he is the hunter."
The smile widened, thin and dangerous.
"That means," All For One said softly, "he has not yet learned what it feels like to be prey."
The monitors went dark one by one.
"Let him shine at his festival," All For One concluded. "Let him draw every eye in Japan."
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"The brighter the flame…"
Shigaraki swallowed.
"…the easier it is to snuff out?"
All For One chuckled.
"Precisely. We'll move when he's got an internship; it'll provide better leverage."
.....
Midnight's voice echoed across the stadium, sharp and theatrical.
"The first round of the Sports Festival is… a race! Now that all participants are ready—"
A pause.
The crowd leaned in.
[Active Abilities: Atlas, Burden Breaker, Observation Haki, Light Step, Super Jump.]
"GO!"
Fwoom!
The starting line detonated into chaos.
Explosions, ice, engines, hardened limbs, bodies surging forward in a wave of color and noise.
And from the very back of the pack—
Izuku Midoriya was gone.
Not sprinting.
Not blasting forward.
Gone.
The air where he had been rippled once, like something had stepped off the world rather than across it.
A split second later, students at the front felt it.
A pressure shift.
A displacement of wind.
Bakugo snarled as something passed him without sound. Todoroki's ice cracked as a blur skipped over it without touching. Iida's engines roared uselessly as someone simply… wasn't bound by the track.
In the observation deck, several teachers stiffened at once.
"What the—" Present Mic leaned forward. "Did he jump?"
Nezu's eyes followed a point far ahead of the pack. "No," he said pleasantly. "He stepped."
Out on the course, Izuku landed lightly on nothing at all.
[Light Step] carried him forward, feet touching air, debris, walls, absence alike. He didn't need momentum. He didn't need clearance. The obstacles weren't something to overcome.
They were something to ignore.
[Observation Haki] expanded just enough to map the chaos behind him. He felt positions, trajectories, collisions waiting to happen. Adjusted without thinking.
A minefield ahead?
He walked above it.
A canyon opening beneath the racers?
He crossed it.
A wall meant to bottleneck the pack?
Izuku jumped straight up the side, took three steps on empty space, and dropped cleanly onto the far side.
Cameras scrambled to follow him.
"What IS THAT?!" Midnight shouted, equal parts shock and delight. "Midoriya has taken the lead, and I don't think he even touched the ground!"
In the stands, the crowd roared.
In the villain's hideout, monitors flared as Shigaraki leaned forward, nails digging into his palms.
"He's not running," he hissed. "He's cheating physics."
All For One watched silently.
"…No," he murmured. "He's demonstrating."
Back on the track, Izuku finally allowed himself a burst of speed.
[Atlas] flared low, controlled. The shockwave from his takeoff flattened loose debris behind him without harming anyone. He crossed the final stretch in a single bound, landing cleanly beyond the finish line.
The sensors screamed.
The timer froze.
Izuku straightened, hands in his pockets, breathing steady.
Several seconds passed before the rest of the competitors even came into view.
The stadium erupted.
Cheers. Screams. Disbelief.
Izuku glanced back at the course, then up at the nearest camera, expression calm, almost bored.
Watch closely, he thought.
This is still me holding back. I'm coming for those tickets AFO... Shigaraki...
Behind him, the Sports Festival had only just begun.
....
"…That kid's speed is insane," Midnight said again, arms folded as she glanced between the frozen replay and All Might.
"How fast is he compared to you?"
The room stilled.
All Might took a deep breath.
For just a moment, the booming Symbol of Peace wasn't there. Only Toshinori Yagi, weighing his words carefully.
"In my prime…" he said slowly, "…I don't know who'd be faster."
That alone drew sharp looks.
"But as of right now?" he continued, eyes fixed on the screen. "He's definitely the faster one."
Silence followed.
Present Mic's jaw dropped. "You're telling me that kid just outpaced All Might?"
Aizawa's eyes narrowed. "In straight-line speed?"
All Might shook his head. "Not just speed. Transition. Acceleration, deceleration, repositioning. He doesn't lose momentum because he doesn't rely on it; he must have some sort of observation ability to allow him to navigate at such high speeds."
Nezu's ears twitched. "Which means reaction time becomes irrelevant."
Midnight let out a slow breath. "That's… obscene."
Cementoss frowned. "There were no shockwaves consistent with full power output until the finish. He wasn't pushing."
"No," All Might agreed quietly. "He was navigating."
The screen replayed Izuku crossing the finish line again - calm, composed, almost bored.
Aizawa clicked his tongue. "So what happens when he does push?"
All Might didn't answer immediately.
"…Then," he said at last, "that'll be the day he's not racing."
The implication hung heavy in the air.
Nezu smiled faintly. "And that," he said, "is why his little speech was so effective."
Midnight glanced back at the screen, unease creeping into her expression.
"He's not trying to be the next symbol of peace," she murmured.
All Might nodded once.
"No," he said. "He's trying to be unavoidable... A symbol of fear for the villains, that he'll always be there. Wherever they may be."
.....
During the break, Izuku stood in the corridor gazing into the arena.
The stadium roared in conversation around him. Cheers. Arguments. Excitement. Cameras sweeping the stands again and again, replaying his run like it was something unbelievable.
He rested his elbows on the railing, chin in his hand.
Why is this so… boring?
No tension.
No uncertainty.
Just outcomes lining up exactly as expected.
Footsteps echoed behind him.
"You."
Izuku didn't turn.
Shoto Todoroki stopped a few steps away, mismatched eyes sharp, posture rigid like he was bracing for impact.
"I don't care if you're All Might's secret love child or whatever," Shoto said flatly. "But I will defeat you."
Izuku glanced over his shoulder, then turned fully to face him.
Up close, Todoroki felt like compressed pressure. Raw power held back by something stubborn and unresolved.
Izuku smiled.
Not mocking.
Not cruel.
Certain.
"Shoto," he said calmly, "you are strong. That was visible from our training."
That alone made Todoroki stiffen. Praise wasn't something he expected.
"But without your other side," Izuku continued, tilting his head slightly, "you will never defeat me."
The temperature around them dipped.
Ice crept along the floor at Todoroki's feet, instinctive, defensive.
"You don't know what you're talking about," Shoto said, jaw tight.
Izuku met his gaze evenly. "I do."
He stepped closer, voice low enough that only they could hear.
"You're fighting yourself harder than you're fighting anyone else. Half your power is locked behind a grudge that isn't even rational. Does all fire belong to your father?"
Shoto's breath hitched.
"I don't need it," he snapped. "My ice is enough."
Izuku's smile didn't fade.
"For everyone else?" he said. "Maybe."
Then, softly:
"For me? No."
A long silence stretched between them.
Shoto's fists clenched, frost thickening along his sleeve. "You're arrogant."
Izuku shrugged. "I'm accurate."
The arena announcer called the next match in the distance.
Izuku turned away, hands slipping back into his pockets.
"Use everything you have," he said over his shoulder. "Or don't bother stepping onto the field with me. If you don't use your fire during the third round with me, I'll throw you out of the ring immediately. You won't even notice it."
He walked down the corridor without looking back.
Behind him, Shoto Todoroki stood frozen in place, heart pounding.
Not with anger.
With doubt.
[Congratulations on placing first in the first game! You have gained 1x silver ticket.]
[The user has gained:
* [Iceberg]
|Elite Ability|
Allows the user to freeze objects and create massive amounts of ice, allowing them to freeze entire streets, encase buildings in ice and with training, they can even turn entire city blocks into icebergs.]
Izuku smiled; a plan began forming in his mind.
....
Nezu sat across from Izuku, paws folded neatly on the desk, eyes gleaming with curiosity that bordered on predatory.
"Young Midoriya," he said lightly, "where did your confidence come from?"
Izuku leaned back in the chair, completely at ease.
"You shouldn't even know that All For One is alive," Nezu continued, voice still pleasant. "Officially, even we don't know that. So I'll ask again - where does that certainty come from?"
Izuku didn't dodge it.
"I went to another world," he said simply.
Nezu's tail stilled.
"…I beg your pardon?"
"An alternate world," Izuku clarified, tone casual, like he was correcting a minor misunderstanding. "Different history. Different paths. Same man."
Nezu watched him closely now. "And in this… other world?"
Izuku met his gaze.
"I fought him," he said. "And I won."
Silence fell heavy and absolute.
Nezu did not interrupt.
"He wasn't weakened," Izuku continued. "He wasn't careless. He had time, Nomu, and followers. Every advantage you'd expect him to have if no one stopped him early."
A pause.
"I still beat him."
Nezu leaned back slowly, chair barely creaking.
"…That is an extraordinary claim."
Izuku nodded. "I know."
"And you're certain it was AFO?" Nezu pressed. "Same intellect. Same malice. Same level of threat?"
Izuku's smile returned, faint and knowing.
"He made the same mistakes," he said. "Believed the same lies about power. And in the end, he underestimated the wrong person."
Nezu was quiet for a long time.
"…So that is why you called him out," he said at last. "You weren't provoking him."
"No," Izuku replied. "I was warning him."
Nezu's eyes narrowed slightly. "And what happens if this world's All For One diverges? Learns. Adapts."
Izuku shrugged. "It's too late for him."
Another long pause.
Finally, Nezu chuckled softly - not amused, but deeply intrigued.
"How very… inefficient for the rest of us," he murmured.
Izuku stood, straightening his uniform.
"I'm not confident because I think I can win," he said at the door. "I already have, he just doesn't know it yet."
He left the office without another word.
Nezu remained seated, staring at the closed door.
"…An experienced victor," he said quietly. "Disguised as a first-year student."
For the first time in a very long while, Nezu felt something unfamiliar crawl up his spine.
Anticipation.
.....
Izuku walked onto the field with the rest of the contestants. Midnight began explaining the next event,
"For the second event of the Sports Festival—"
She paused deliberately.
"—We'll be testing your ability to navigate chaos, conflict, and opportunity all at once."
The image resolved.
A massive, uneven field filled with towering robots, wrecked terrain, and suspended platforms.
Midnight's grin widened.
"Welcome to the Cavalry Battle!"
The crowd roared.
"Teams of two to four!" she continued. "One rider, three horses! You'll have fifteen minutes to steal as many headbands as possible!"
The screen zoomed in on a glowing number above one name.
10,000,000 POINTS – MIDORIYA IZUKU
A collective gasp swept the stadium.
Midnight laughed softly.
"As the first-place finisher in the race, Midoriya starts with the highest point value! Which means—"
Her eyes flicked toward Izuku, amused and dangerous.
"—everyone will be coming for him."
Izuku looked up at the number.
Then smiled.
Good.
Around him, students began scrambling, shouting, forming alliances.
Izuku didn't move.
He stood calmly in the center of the field, hands in his pockets, watching the chaos begin to spiral.
Momo Yaoyorozu stopped a few steps in front of him.
"Midoriya," she said, composed as ever despite the chaos around them, "do you want to team up?"
Izuku looked at her properly this time.
Calm. Analytical. Already thinking several moves ahead. She wasn't asking out of desperation - she was making a calculated decision.
A smart one.
He glanced at the scoreboard overhead, the 10,000,000 points glowing like a target painted on his back, then back at her.
"…You know everyone's going to come after my team," he said mildly.
Momo nodded. "That's precisely why."
He raised an eyebrow, amused.
"With my Creation quirk," she continued, voice steady, "I can provide equipment, mobility aids, defenses. You've already demonstrated overwhelming speed. Combined, we can control the field instead of reacting to it."
Around them, teams were forming fast. Uraraka was already being pulled by Iida. Tokoyami stood with Dark Shadow looming protectively. Bakugo was shouting demands at anyone who dared look his way.
Izuku considered it for exactly three seconds.
"That's fine," he said.
Momo blinked. "That was… fast."
Izuku smiled faintly. "You're efficient. I like that."
She straightened slightly, a hint of color rising to her cheeks before she pushed past it. "Then we'll need two more. Preferably with defensive or mobility quirks."
Students scrambling. Alliances forming out of panic. Power clustered low, tight, grounded.
"No," he said calmly. "We'll be fine on our own."
Momo paused. "On our own?"
"There's only a handful of people here who could actually take the headband," Izuku continued, tone casual, almost dismissive. "And most of them won't be fast enough."
She studied him for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Alright."
A beat.
"Rider or horse?" she asked.
Izuku smiled.
"Horse," he said. "We'll be airborne. They won't be able to get to us."
Momo's eyes widened just a fraction.
"…Airborne," she repeated carefully.
Izuku stepped closer and lowered his voice. "You handle the band and situational calls. I'll handle positioning."
She took a breath, then nodded decisively. "Understood."
Around them, teams were finishing up. Bakugo barked orders. Todoroki stood stiffly with his team. Tokoyami's shadow loomed like a threat made flesh.
None of them were looking up.
Midnight's voice rang out again.
"Teams finalized! Riders, mount up!"
Momo moved without hesitation, climbing onto Izuku's back and securing the headband tightly around her arm. He adjusted his stance, feet planting for a moment-
Then didn't touch the ground again.
[Active Abilities: Light Step, Observation Haki, Atlas, Blackout, Super regeneration]
The air hardened beneath his feet as if reality itself had decided not to argue.
They rose.
Not rocketing. Not explosively.
Just… walking. Up air itself.
Gasps rippled across the field.
"What the hell—?"
"Is he flying?!"
"That's not fair!"
Within seconds, Izuku carried them well above the scramble, the chaos below shrinking into something distant and inefficient.
Momo tightened her grip, heart racing, but her voice stayed steady. "They'll adapt."
Izuku looked out over the battlefield, expression calm, bored, and absolute.
"Eventually," he said.
Below them, dozens of teams surged, clashed, stole, fell.
Above them, untouched and unreachable, the 10,000,000-point headband gleamed in the sunlight.
Izuku adjusted his footing on nothing at all.
"Until then," he added, "this is just crowd control."
....
"OI! BASTARD, I'M COMING FOR YOU!"
Bakugo blasted skyward, explosions chaining violently as he tore through the air, grin feral and eyes locked onto Izuku.
"He can reach us," Momo said quickly.
"I know," Izuku replied.
Bakugo closed in fast, arm cocked back, explosion already blooming in his palm.
"GET DOWN HERE!"
Izuku didn't dodge.
He shifted.
[Light Step] adjusted beneath his feet, carrying him just out of line as Bakugo's punch tore through empty space. The explosion thundered uselessly past.
Bakugo twisted midair, snarling. "STOP MOVING!"
Izuku looked over his shoulder, almost curious.
"You're burning too much fuel," he said.
Bakugo roared and detonated again, forcing himself higher, veins standing out as he strained to keep altitude.
That was enough.
Izuku let [Atlas] engage - restrained, precise.
He stepped forward and placed his palm against the air between them.
The shockwave wasn't explosive.
It was directional.
A focused burst slammed into Bakugo's torso and back, not crushing, not injuring - just redirecting. His trajectory flipped instantly, momentum snapping him backward like he'd hit an invisible wall.
"WHAT—?!"
Bakugo was sent flying backward, explosions flaring instinctively as he fought to stabilize. He twisted, cursed, and blasted hard just to keep from slamming into the ground headfirst.
He landed back on his teammates, the riders skidding to a stop on one knee.
"DAMN IT—!"
His teammates stared at him, wide-eyed.
Bakugo looked up.
High above, Izuku and Momo were already drifting farther away, altitude increasing effortlessly.
Momo exhaled. "You could've taken him out."
Izuku shook his head. "No reason."
Internally, though, he had another reason,
Just let me enjoy the feel of her more, bastard, let me relax.
Below, Bakugo clenched his fists, explosions popping angrily as he pushed himself up.
"THIS ISN'T OVER!" he shouted.
Izuku glanced down once, calm as ever.
"I know," he said, "But for now... It is."
Then he turned his attention back to the field.
Bakugo was still in the fight.
Still dangerous.
Still furious.
....
"And that concludes the Cavalry Match!"
Midnight's voice rang out over the stadium as the final buzzer echoed across the field.
"In first place—!"
The giant screens flashed, numbers updating in real time.
1st PLACE: IZUKU MIDORIYA & MOMO YAOYOROZU
The crowd erupted.
Cheers. Gasps. Arguments breaking out in the stands as replays rolled—Izuku walking on air, Bakugo being calmly redirected back to his team, entire alliances hesitating because they simply couldn't reach them.
Momo exhaled, finally allowing herself to relax. "We… we actually did it."
Izuku nodded, stepping down onto solid ground as [Light Step] disengaged. "As expected."
She glanced at him, half-amused, half-exasperated. "You're impossible."
Izuku smirked.
"Well," he said lightly, "I should thank you as well."
Momo blinked. "For…?"
"For the break," he replied, tone casual, almost lazy. "That was a good relaxation."
It took half a second for it to register.
Then she turned bright red.
"R-relaxation?!" she sputtered, straightening instantly. "I was under considerable pressure! Coordinating, maintaining balance, monitoring threats—!"
Izuku glanced at her, clearly entertained. "See? Productive and relaxing."
She opened her mouth, closed it, then looked away sharply, one hand rising to cover her face. "You're… you're unbelievable."
His smirk softened just a touch.
"But effective," he added.
That only made it worse.
Momo muttered something incoherent under her breath and marched ahead, composure rapidly trying to reassert itself.
Izuku watched her go, amused.
Huh, he thought. Didn't expect that to work.
Behind them, the stadium buzzed with speculation and disbelief, but for a brief moment, none of that mattered.
Just a quiet victory.
And a flustered strategist walking a little too fast.
Izuku followed at an easy pace, hands in his pockets, a grin firmly in place.
Around them, students looked on with mixed expressions.
Bakugo was seething, explosions crackling uselessly in his palms. Todoroki stared in silence, something unreadable shifting behind his eyes. Tokoyami inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment.
Up in the stands, pros leaned forward, murmuring urgently.
"That wasn't a trick."
"No visible support gear."
"He never overcommitted."
In the staff section, Midnight let out a slow breath. "I don't think I've ever seen someone refuse to play the game so completely."
Nezu's eyes gleamed. "On the contrary," he said softly. "He played it perfectly."
All Might stood rigid, hands clenched at his sides.
He's controlling the narrative, he realized. Every event. Every perception. He wanted to show that he's untouchable... and he succeeded.
Down on the field, Izuku adjusted his uniform and glanced toward the tunnel leading to the waiting area.
Another round.
Another performance.
And still, that familiar boredom lingered.
Maybe, he thought as he walked off beside Momo, the finals will be worth my time.
Behind them, the Sports Festival roared on.
But the tone had shifted.
Because now everyone understood something important.
They weren't chasing victory anymore.
They were chasing him.
[Congratulations on finishing first in the second event! You have gained 1x silver ticket.]
[The user has gained:
* [Natural Scent]
|Uncommon Trait|
Upgrade of Perfumer - You smell really good, even your sweat does, and your natural body odor is like perfume that most people like. You never have to worry about smelling bad ever again.]
Nice.
....
During the lunch break, Izuku sat with the rest of Class 1-A on the grass just outside the stadium, quietly eating his bento while the noise of the festival carried on around them.
The moment didn't last.
"Dude," Kaminari said, leaning way too close, eyes sparkling, "you were so cool! That wasn't even fair! Your quirk is such a cheat!"
Several heads nodded immediately.
"You literally walked on air," Sero added. "On. Air."
"And you didn't even break a sweat," Ashido chimed in. "Meanwhile, we were fighting for our lives down there."
Uraraka looked between Izuku and Momo, then frowned slightly. "Yeah… Yaoyorozu barely even got to use her quirk."
Momo stiffened a little at that, clearly about to apologize.
Izuku swallowed his food calmly before answering.
"That was intentional," he said.
Everyone paused.
Momo blinked. "It was?"
"Yes," Izuku replied evenly. "Your role wasn't to show off. It was to secure the headband and make decisions. You did that perfectly."
She hesitated. "…But I didn't create much."
"You didn't need to," he said simply. "Using less and winning anyway is better than burning yourself out for spectacle."
Kaminari stared. "That is the most unfairly cool answer I've ever heard."
Bakugo, sitting a short distance away with his arms crossed, let out an irritated scoff. "Tch. Like hell that was just a quirk."
Izuku didn't even look at him.
Sero grinned. "Still though, man, if that's 'Evolution,' I don't wanna know what the final form looks like."
Izuku smiled faintly, harmless, ordinary.
"Neither do I," he said.
Momo glanced at him again, that same thoughtful look crossing her face.
He smells really nice…
She blinked, immediately mortified at herself, and focused very hard on her food.
Before anyone could comment further, a shadow fell over the table.
"Ahhh, enjoying your victory lap already, Class 1-A?"
Several heads snapped up.
A group of Class 1-B students stood there, uniforms crisp, expressions ranging from smug to curious. At their front was a tall blond boy with an exaggerated grin, hands on his hips like he'd just stepped onto a stage.
"Oi, Golden Boy, I'm Neito Monoma," he announced loudly. "And don't get too comfortable. I'll be the one toppling your little act before this festival's over."
He stepped forward and thrust out a hand toward Izuku.
Izuku looked at the hand.
Then at Monoma's face.
His eyes widened in exaggerated realization.
"Oh," Izuku said, pulling his hand back just before contact. "Nice trick."
Monoma blinked. "Huh?"
"No copy for you, though," Izuku added pleasantly.
The table went silent.
Then—
Kaminari choked on his drink.
Sero burst out laughing.
Bakugo let out a sharp, incredulous bark of laughter from a few seats away.
Monoma's grin twitched.
"I-I wasn't—!"
"You absolutely were," Izuku said calmly, already returning to his lunch. "Good instincts, though. Just… a little obvious."
Monoma bristled. "Tch! As if copying you would even help! I don't need some flashy cheat quirk to win!"
Izuku looked up again, expression mild.
"Then you won't mind not having it, it's a blank anyway. You wouldn't benefit," he said.
That did it.
Monoma sputtered, face flushing red as his classmates awkwardly tugged him back.
"L-let's go, Monoma," one of them muttered. "You're proving his point."
"I AM NOT—!"
They retreated amid snickers.
As the tension faded, Uraraka leaned toward Izuku, whispering, "Was he really trying to copy you?"
Izuku nodded once. "Yeah."
"…Good catch."
Momo glanced at him again, admiration mixing with something she didn't quite want to name.
Sharp, she thought. In every way.
Izuku finished his meal, unbothered, gaze drifting back toward the arena.
.....
The stadium lights shifted, focusing back onto the main arena.
Midnight stepped forward, whip resting against her shoulder, voice carrying effortlessly.
"And now," she purred, "for the final event of the U.A. Sports Festival—a one-on-one tournament!"
The brackets flashed onto the massive screen behind her, names slotting into place amid roaring cheers.
Before she could continue, a hand went up.
Mashirao Ojiro stood awkwardly near the edge of the arena, tail flicking once.
"…I'd like to forfeit," he said simply.
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
Midnight blinked, then gave him an approving nod. "Very well. Ojiro forfeits. Honesty like that is admirable."
Ojiro bowed once and stepped back, already at peace with his decision.
Midnight turned back to the screen, smile sharpening.
"Now then—let's begin."
The bracket shifted.
Her eyes flicked to the first matchup, and for just a moment, her expression turned… curious.
"First up," she announced, voice echoing,
"Izuku Midoriya… versus Hitoshi Shinso!"
The crowd reacted immediately.
From the sidelines, Shinso stiffened.
Across the arena, Izuku calmly rose to his feet.
He adjusted his gloves, expression unreadable, boredom faintly returning as he glanced at the other boy.
Brainwashing, he noted. So that's the angle.
Midnight gestured toward the field. "Contestants, please come to the stage!"
Shinso swallowed, then forced himself to move forward, jaw set.
Izuku stepped onto the arena floor from the opposite side, hands in his pockets, posture relaxed like he was heading to class rather than a televised duel.
As they stopped across from one another, the contrast was stark.
Shinso looked tense. Focused. Desperate to prove something.
Izuku looked… calm.
Almost indulgent.
Midnight raised her hand between them.
"Rules are simple," she said. "Win by ring-out, incapacitation, or surrender. No lethal force."
She glanced at Shinso, then at Izuku.
Midnight stepped back.
The buzzer hovered, ready to sound.
Izuku met Shinso's eyes and smiled faintly.
Not mocking.
Knowing.
Let's see how you try, he thought.
The buzzer screamed.
And the first match of the finals began.
...
Nice, huh?
Again you can support me over at P@tre 0000 n, @Djini to get 2 extra chapters (like 15k words). Hope you enjoyed :)