"W-Wow!!!"
The abrupt rush of wind made Yaoyorozu Momo instinctively clutch Uchiha Madara's shoulders, eyes tightly shut as a shriek escaped her lips.
But after a few moments of eerie calm, she cracked one eye open…
"What the hell are you doing?!" Momo scolded, smacking his arm lightly.
However, her words trailed off as her gaze dropped—
In Madara's hand, dangling casually, were ten headbands, each representing a defeated team.
"…Huh?" Momo blinked, rubbing her eyes. Surely she was imagining things. But no—those were headbands.
"W-What… How did you even…"
Her mouth fell open in pure disbelief.
"MY GOD!"
Present Mic's voice exploded from the commentary booth. "It's Uchiha from Class 1-A AGAIN! This kid just snatched ten headbands in an instant!"
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the stands.
"Hey! What are you all doing?! Don't just stand there!"
"Oi! Are you trying to kill us?!"
Bakugo Katsuki stomped forward, glaring daggers at Madara. His crimson eyes practically shot sparks.
Madara tilted his head. "Did I break your formation?"
"You—!"
Madara cut him off smoothly. "As long as I don't break the cavalry formation, it's not a foul." He leaned in slightly, eyes narrowing. "What's wrong, Bakugo? You scared?"
"LIKE HELL I AM!!" Bakugo's temper erupted like a bomb, his fists crackling. "I'll kill you, you bastard!"
"Uchiha."
From the side, Hitoshi Shinso raised a hand, touching his now-missing headband. His voice was unnervingly calm. "You're a real piece of work."
Madara didn't even glance his way. He turned instead to Yaoyorozu, handing her the headbands. "Don't answer him."
"Huh? Why?" Momo took the headbands reflexively.
Madara gave a slight smirk. "His Quirk's Brainwashing. He can control people if they respond when he uses it. Don't talk back."
Momo nodded slowly. "So… you do know a lot, huh?"
She wasn't sure whether to be impressed… or a little scared.
Meanwhile—
"We… can't go on like this," Midoriya Izuku whispered, crouched low in a huddle with Uraraka Ochaco, Tokoyami Fumikage, and Hatsume Mei.
His green eyes narrowed, calculating rapidly.
In a frontal fight, they didn't stand a chance. Madara had speed, power, and skill—and some kind of freakish foresight no one could explain.
But maybe… if they targeted Momo's headband, they might pull off a surprise attack…
"I have a plan," Midoriya whispered, hatching a strategy.
However—
Madara's earlier stunt changed the entire battlefield's atmosphere.
Even students who had no intention of messing with him now had no choice.
Their headbands were gone.
There were no other targets left.
If they wanted to advance—
They had to go after Madara.
"He turned himself into the biggest target…"
The Class 1-B students exchanged tense glances.
"But… there's no way he can handle all of us, right?"
"We've got numbers on our side!"
Standing in the center of the ring, surrounded by eight cavalry teams, Madara cracked his knuckles.
"Let me guess…" he smirked. "You all finally decided to come after me?"
Momo clutched his shoulders tighter. "Madara, this isn't looking good… There are over thirty of them!"
Madara's grin sharpened.
"Forty-two students total. Minus us… minus the ten I already disarmed… that leaves thirty." He glanced over his shoulder. "Get ready."
"W-What do you mean 'get ready'?! I hate surprises!" Momo squeaked.
"Relax." His eyes narrowed, gleaming with eerie calm. "It'll be over quickly."
And then—
His eyelids fluttered closed for a breath.
When they opened—
Three crimson tomoe spun in his scarlet eyes.
The Sharingan ignited.
For the others, time flowed normally.
But for Madara—
Everything slowed.
The shuffle of feet… the faint intake of breath… the trembling fingers clutching kunai… all moved at a crawl in his vision.
Perfect clarity.
He moved.
Kunai flashed in his hands, slicing the air with a sharp whistle.
"Whoosh!"
One—two—three—four—five—six—seven—eight—nine—ten—
Kunai flew in arcs so sharp they seemed to bend reality itself.
They didn't aim for bodies.
They sliced at headbands.
One by one, headbands popped off like loose buttons.
"Wha—?!"
"Where'd he go?!"
"MY HEADBAND?!"
Madara's figure blurred—a phantom weaving between cavalry formations, every step a blur, every kunai slash silent and sure.
In the stands, gasps rippled.
"Unbelievable…"
"He's unreal!"
Even Present Mic was lost for words.
"Damn it, ENOUGH!"
Bakugo exploded forward, palms igniting.
BOOM!
A controlled blast roared around him, creating a fiery shockwave designed to flush Madara out.
But when the smoke cleared—
Madara stood at the edge of the field, calm as ever, a massive bundle of headbands clutched in his free hand.
Thirty.
Exactly thirty.
The crowd lost it.
"W-WHAT?!"
"HOW?!"
"IS HE EVEN HUMAN?!"
On the teacher's podium—
Aizawa Shouta pressed a hand to his forehead. "I've got a headache."
All Might exhaled slowly beside him. "Looks like… I need to start thinking of internships for him already."
On the field—
Midoriya paled, instinctively touching his now-bare forehead.
…When did he take it?
His perfect plan—ruined before it even started.
Madara adjusted the headbands on his arm, raising his head slightly, his voice cool.
"Game over."
"LIKE HELL IT IS!"
Bakugo blasted forward again, snarling. "THERE'S STILL TEN MINUTES LEFT!"
Madara turned to him slightly, Sharingan spinning.
"Then stand there for ten minutes and watch."
Before anyone could speak—
The three tomoe in Madara's eyes connected, forming a sharp, perfect circle.
The air shifted.
A wave of chakra pulsed outward.
It wasn't visible—
But everyone felt it.
A ripple that sent a chill up their spines.
"Wha…?"
In the blink of an eye—
Every student in the field—except Yaoyorozu Momo—
Stopped moving.
Their eyes glazed over.
Their arms fell limp.
Like dolls with their strings cut.
The audience froze.
Silence swept the stadium.
"Did… Did he just…?" Present Mic whispered, leaning forward in disbelief.
Madara exhaled softly, returning his eyes to normal.
"It's over."
Momo stared at him, speechless, eyes wide.
"You… you hypnotized all of them at once?"
Madara shrugged lightly. "Why waste time?"
The bell rang, signaling the end of the match.
The stadium exploded into chaos.
Cheers, screams, stunned applause.
On the field, Midnight raised her hand, stunned for only a moment before forcing a grin.
"THE WINNER… WITH EVERY HEADBAND ON THE FIELD—AND THE ONLY TEAM STANDING—
Uchiha Madara and Yaoyorozu Momo!!"
The crowd roared.
As Madara carried Momo toward the waiting area, she leaned close and whispered, her heart still racing—
"Remind me… never to play against you again."
Madara chuckled lowly. "Deal."
In the shadows of the teacher's stand—
Aizawa narrowed his eyes.
"This kid… is dangerous."
Beside him, All Might crossed his arms, watching Madara with a silent, unreadable expression.
But deep inside, he thought—
Is this power… a blessing? Or a curse waiting to happen?