Chapter 5: No Restrictions
UA didn't feel the same after that day.
Nothing had changed on the surface.
Classes still ran on schedule.
Students still laughed, argued, trained.
But something invisible had settled over the room.
Anticipation.
I felt it in the way people spoke louder than usual, like they were trying to hide their nerves.
In the way footsteps hurried through the halls.
In the way eyes lingered on each other just a little too long.
I stayed quiet.
That was easier.
Aizawa entered the classroom without warning, as always.
The room fell silent almost instantly.
"Sit," he said.
Everyone obeyed.
He looked tired. More than usual.
Like someone who already knew how this would end.
"There will be an inter-group competition," Aizawa said. "In a few days."
The class reacted immediately.
Voices overlapped.
"A competition?"
"Like the Sports Festival?"
"Teams or solo?"
"Fighting?"
Aizawa raised his hand slightly.
Silence returned.
"This is not a festival," he said. "There will be no audience. No cheers. No rewards."
That confused them.
Then he added, "This is an assessment."
That word carried weight.
I felt my shoulders tense without meaning to.
"Combat-based," Aizawa continued. "You will fight. You will advance. You will lose."
Someone in the back asked, "What about the rules, sir?"
Aizawa's eyes moved slowly across the class.
"There will be only one," he said.
The pause stretched.
"Win."
A few students laughed nervously, thinking it was a joke.
Aizawa didn't smile.
"No time limits," he added. "No point system. No restrictions on quirk usage."
The laughter died.
"You will be supervised," he said. "Intervention will only occur if death is imminent."
My breath caught.
Around me, excitement turned sharp.
This wasn't a game.
"Prepare yourselves," Aizawa finished. "That's all."
He turned and walked out.
The door shut behind him with a dull click.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then the room exploded.
Bakugo slammed his hands on the desk. "Finally," he snarled. "A real fight."
Others started talking fast, voices overlapping again.
I didn't move.
No restrictions.
Just win.
I stared at my hands.
If I used my power fully…
No.
I forced the thought away.
Shoto glanced in my direction briefly, then looked back down at his desk.
He said nothing.
That silence said enough.
---
Training began immediately.
Groups formed naturally.
Students compared quirks, planned strategies, tested limits.
I stayed alone.
On the far side of the training field, away from noise and eyes.
I didn't need power.
I needed control.
I stood still and closed my eyes.
Slow breath in.
Slower breath out.
I reached inward.
The sensation came instantly — like cold water spilling through my veins.
The world softened at the edges.
I stopped.
Pain followed.
A sharp pressure behind my eyes.
My hands trembled.
I clenched my fists until the shaking eased.
Using my quirk was easy.
Stopping it was not.
Again.
This time I let it spread a little further.
Just enough to feel the pull.
Memories brushed against my senses — blurred, distant.
Not erased. Not taken.
I cut it off.
My knees buckled slightly.
I stayed standing.
Sweat rolled down my back despite the cold air.
I remembered Aizawa's words.
Accepting what your actions become.
If I fought without limits…
I would win.
And they would never look at me the same again.
If I held back…
Someone might not walk away.
There was no safe choice.
Only a quieter one.
---
That night, the dorms buzzed with talk.
I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling.
The room was dark. Quiet.
I liked it that way.
My head still ached.
A dull reminder of restraint.
I thought about the competition.
About what kind of opponent I might face.
About how easy it would be to end it.
And how hard it would be to live with myself after.
I turned onto my side.
If this world wanted a fight without rules…
Then I would answer it my way.
Not with strength.
Not with fear.
But with control sharp enough to hurt.
---
In the days that followed, everyone trained harder.
Louder.
Angrier.
I trained quieter.
Each time I stopped my power earlier.
Each time it hurt more.
That was fine.
Pain meant I was still choosing.
And as the day of the competition drew closer, one truth settled deep in my chest.
This fight wouldn't decide who was strongest.
It would decide who I was willing to become.
And I wasn't sure the world was ready for that answer.
------------------ End of Chapter 5 -----------------