Chapter 30: The Shadow's Warning and the Silent Fist
The fervor of the Cavalry Battle had barely begun to dissipate when the heavy atmosphere of the final tournament descended upon the stadium. The massive concrete bowl of the U.A. arena buzzed with the low, restless energy of thousands of spectators anticipating the next violent spectacle.
In the center of the field, the surviving teams stood in loose clusters, catching their breath. The sweat on their skin cooled rapidly in the open air, a stark reminder that the heat of the battle was over, and the cold reality of individual combat was about to begin.
Midnight, the R-Rated Hero, stepped onto the central platform. She raised her hand, silencing the murmurs of the crowd with a single, commanding gesture.
"Now!" she announced, her voice echoing with a mix of authority and excitement. "Before we draw the lots to determine the matchups, I have an announcement to make. Is there anyone who wishes to withdraw from the finals?"
It was a rhetorical question. Or at least, it should have been. Every student here had fought tooth and nail to reach this stage. To quit now would be madness.
But slowly, tentatively, a hand rose from the crowd.
"I do."
The stadium fell silent. All eyes turned to a boy with a plain face and a thick, muscular tail. Mashirao Ojiro stood there, his other hand gripping his wrist, his expression a mixture of shame and frustration.
"Ojiro-kun?" Midoriya gasped, stepping forward. "Why? We qualified! We have a chance to be pros!"
"I... I can't," Ojiro said, his voice trembling slightly. He didn't look at Midoriya. He looked at the ground. "I barely remember anything from the Cavalry Battle until the very end. I think... I think it was that guy's quirk."
He cast a fleeting, fearful glance toward Hitoshi Shinso, who was standing apart from the group with his hands in his pockets.
"I regained my senses, but by then, my team had already won," Ojiro continued, clenching his fist until his knuckles turned white. "Everyone here gave their all. They fought with their own strength. But me? I was just a puppet. I was carried here by someone else's power without even knowing it. My pride... it won't let me stand on this stage."
Beside him, Nirengeki Shoda from Class B also raised his hand. "I feel the same! It wouldn't be right!"
Midnight looked at them. There was no mockery in her eyes, only a quiet respect for their integrity.
"Such youthful candor," she sighed, a softness entering her voice. "Very well. Mashirao Ojiro and Nirengeki Shoda are withdrawn."
She turned to the massive screen.
"To fill the empty spots, we will move up the students from the fifth-place team. Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu... and from the Class B team with the highest individual points... Ibara Shiozaki!"
A girl with vines for hair clasped her hands together in prayer, looking up at the sky. "I am grateful for this opportunity."
"Now!" Midnight cracked her whip, dispelling the somber mood. "Let us reveal the bracket! Behold the Board of Fate!"
The massive screen flickered to life. Lines of light drew themselves rapidly across the black background, connecting names in a tournament tree. The students held their breath. This was it. The path to the top.
Match 1: Natsu Dragneel vs. Hitoshi Shinso
Match 2: Izuku Midoriya vs. Neito Monoma
Match 3: Shoto Todoroki vs. Hanta Sero
Match 4: Fumikage Tokoyami vs. Momo Yaoyorozu
Match 5: Eijiro Kirishima vs. Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu
Match 6: Tenya Iida vs. Ibara Shiozaki
Match 7: Mina Ashido vs. Yuga Aoyama
Match 8: Katsuki Bakugo vs. Ochaco Uraraka
"Eeh?!"
Happy the Cat floated up to the screen, squinting his eyes as he scanned the names frantically. "Where am I?! Natsu is there! Why isn't 'Happy' on the list?!"
"You're a cat, buddy," Natsu laughed, patting Happy on the head. "You're my coach! That's even more important."
"Coach..." Happy's eyes sparkled. "Aye! I like that title!"
A few feet away, Midoriya was staring at his name. He was muttering under his breath, his eyes darting back and forth as he analyzed the bracket.
"Monoma... Class B," Midoriya whispered, his hand going to his chin. "His quirk is Copy. That's incredibly dangerous. If he touches me, he could potentially use One For All... but if he does, will his body handle it? Or does he just copy the base strength? I need to avoid close combat at all costs..."
"So," a smooth, arrogant voice interrupted his muttering. "I get the broken toy for the first round?"
Midoriya looked up. Neito Monoma was standing there, a smirk plastered on his face. He looked Midoriya up and down, his eyes lingering on the scars on Midoriya's hand.
"A quirk that breaks your own bones," Monoma scoffed, running a hand through his blond hair. "How primitive. It seems the universe wants to give me an easy warm-up. But don't worry, Class A. After I dispose of him..."
Monoma's eyes shifted past Midoriya, locking onto Natsu.
"My second opponent looks interesting. The 'Dragon' that everyone is so afraid of. I wonder... what happens when a Dragon meets a mirror?"
Midoriya flinched, his anxiety spiking. "Monoma-kun..."
Suddenly, a warm, heavy hand landed on Midoriya's shoulder.
"Don't listen to him, Deku," Natsu said. He wasn't looking at Monoma. He was looking at Midoriya, his grin reassuring and steady.
"But Natsu-kun," Midoriya stammered. "He can copy quirks. He's a counter to everyone."
"So what?" Natsu shrugged. "Power isn't just about the quirk. It's about the person using it."
Natsu squeezed Midoriya's shoulder.
"Don't let him talk. Surprise him. Show him what you can do with your actions, not your words. Beat him, and then fight me in the second round. Got it?"
Midoriya blinked. The panic in his chest receded, replaced by a surge of determination. He nodded firmly. "Right! I'll do my best!"
"Excuse me."
The three of them turned. Ojiro was standing there, looking pale.
"Midoriya, Dragneel," Ojiro said quietly. "Can I talk to you for a second? Before the matches start. It's important."
The Waiting Room - Sector 1
The waiting room was a stark contrast to the arena. It was a small, concrete box with a single bench, a locker, and a heavy steel door. The roar of the crowd was muffled here, reduced to a distant, rhythmic thrumming that vibrated through the floor.
Natsu sat on the bench, stretching his arms behind his head. Happy was curled up next to him, grooming his tail. Midoriya sat on the edge of the seat, leaning forward intently.
Ojiro stood by the door, his arms crossed, looking serious.
"Listen to me carefully," Ojiro began, his voice low. "My quirk is simple. I have a tail. It makes me strong in martial arts. But that guy... Shinso... his strength isn't physical."
"He talked to me," Ojiro continued, recreating the memory. "He bumped into me and asked a question. It was something trivial. I answered. And then... my memory cuts out. It was like a fog descended over my mind. I was awake, but I wasn't there."
Midoriya gasped, scribbling furiously in a small notebook he had produced from nowhere. "So the trigger is verbal response? If you answer him, he takes control?"
"That's my theory," Ojiro nodded grimly. "That's why I withdrew. And that's why I'm warning you, Dragneel. You're up first."
Natsu yawned. "So... he talks, I talk, and I lose?"
"Exactly," Ojiro said. "Don't engage with him. Don't say a word. Just start the match and knock him out of bounds immediately. If you speak, it's over."
Natsu stared at the ceiling for a moment. Then he frowned.
"That sounds boring," Natsu said flatly.
"Boring?!" Ojiro's eyes widened. "This isn't a game! If you lose control, you lose the tournament! You lose your chance to be noticed by the pros!"
"I know, I know," Natsu waved his hand dismissively. He stood up, cracking his neck. "But fighting without talking? That's not my style. I like to trade punches and words. How am I supposed to know what kind of guy he is if I don't talk to him?"
"You don't need to know him!" Midoriya interjected, looking panicked. "Natsu-kun, please listen to Ojiro-kun! This is a mental type quirk. It ignores durability. It ignores strength. Even you can't burn through mind control!"
"Don't worry, Deku," Happy chimed in, puffing out his chest. "Natsu has a very thick skull! His brain is protected by layers of stubbornness!"
"That's not a compliment, Happy!" Natsu laughed.
"You guys..." Ojiro sighed, rubbing his temples. He looked at the pink-haired boy and the green-haired boy. One was over-analyzing everything, and the other wasn't analyzing anything at all. "You are both idiots. Be careful, okay? I don't want to see someone else lose their dignity to that power."
"I got it," Natsu said, his voice suddenly serious. He walked to the door and placed his hand on the handle. "I'll win. For you, and for the others he messed with."
Natsu pushed the door open. The bright light of the corridor flooded into the dim room.
"Let's go, partner!" Natsu shouted.
"Aye!" Happy flew after him.
Ojiro and Midoriya watched him leave.
"He's going to talk to him, isn't he?" Ojiro asked.
"Yeah," Midoriya sighed, closing his notebook. "He definitely is."
The Arena - Center Stage
"WELCOME BACK, LISTENERS!"
Present Mic's voice exploded through the massive speakers, signaling the end of the intermission. The crowd, recharged and refueled, erupted into a frenzy of cheers that shook the very foundations of the stadium.
"The lunch break is over! The field is cleared! And the tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife! Are you ready for the final tournament?!"
"YEAAAAAH!" The crowd roared back.
"Then let's get right to it!" Present Mic pointed to the entrance tunnel on the east side. "From the Hero Course! He dominated the Obstacle Race! He turned the Cavalry Battle into a one-man show! The fiery wild child who answers to no one! Is he a man? Is he a monster? He is... NATSU DRAGNEEL!"
Fireworks shot up from the sides of the tunnel as Natsu walked out. He wore his P.E. uniform with the sleeves rolled up. His white scarf flowed behind him. He looked calm, focused, and dangerously relaxed.
"And his opponent!" Present Mic pointed to the west tunnel. "From General Studies! He crawled his way into the finals with a mysterious power! The dark horse of the competition! Don't let his tired eyes fool you! HITOSHI SHINSO!"
Shinso walked out slowly. His purple hair was messy, and the dark bags under his eyes were prominent. He didn't look at the crowd. He looked straight at Natsu.
The two boys stopped in the center of the arena, facing each other.
Cementoss stood between them as the referee. He raised his hand.
"The rules are simple," Cementoss rumbled. "Knockout, ring out, or immobilization. You have fifteen minutes. No killing. Are you ready?"
Natsu grinned, slamming his fist into his palm. A small burst of flame erupted on impact.
"I'm all fired up!"
Shinso stood perfectly still. He didn't take a fighting stance. He just relaxed his shoulders and stared at Natsu with a bored, almost pitying expression.
"You seem confident," Shinso said softly. His voice wasn't amplified, but in the hush of the arena, Natsu heard it clearly. "Must be nice. To be born with a quirk that makes everyone cheer for you. To be the hero without even trying."
Natsu's grin faltered slightly.
"START!" Cementoss shouted.
The final tournament had begun.
.
.
~ Pat reon is one of the biggest way to help your author to write more and also to get advanced chapters;
pa tr eon. com/kazuha0
- Apple users should subscribe through the website, not the app, because the app costs about five extra dollars due to Apple's fees. That's why I strongly recommend using the web version. -