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The Breaking Point
The observation room was thick with tension as Team A disappeared into the building's entrance. Kenjiro stood with his arms crossed, watching the multiple screens that showed different angles of the training facility. The rest of Class 1-A clustered around All Might, their excited chatter dying down as the reality of what they were about to witness set in.
"This is going to be intense," Kirishima muttered, running a hand through his red hair. "Bakugo looked like he wanted to murder someone."
"That's what I'm worried about," Toru's disembodied voice replied, her gloves gesturing at the screens. "Did you see his face when the teams were announced? That wasn't competitive spirit—that was pure bloodlust."
All Might maintained his broad smile, but Kenjiro caught the subtle tension in the hero's massive frame. Even the Symbol of Peace was concerned about this matchup. The man had either made a calculated gamble or a dangerous mistake.
On the screens, Midoriya and Uraraka moved cautiously through the building's corridors. Their communication was clear and efficient—Uraraka covering the rear while Midoriya led, both maintaining constant awareness of their surroundings. They were taking the exercise seriously, treating it like a real infiltration mission.
"Look at Midoriya," Yaoyorozu observed quietly. "His movement, his positioning—he's actually quite tactical when he's not panicking."
"Yeah," Sero agreed, "but look at his hands. They're shaking."
Kenjiro's eyes narrowed as he studied the green-haired boy on screen. Midoriya was terrified—not of the exercise, but of his own power. The memory of yesterday's fitness tests was clearly haunting him. His quirk had nearly destroyed his finger and arm. Now he was facing Bakugo, someone who would push him to his absolute limits.
Meanwhile, the screens showing the villain team told a different story. Iida was methodically clearing the bomb room, removing every piece of furniture and debris that could be used against him. His movements were precise and professional, taking his role seriously despite the theatrical villain persona he was attempting.
Bakugo, however, had gone completely silent. He crouched in a side corridor like a predator waiting to strike, his red eyes fixed on the entrance routes. His breathing was controlled but shallow, the kind of breathing pattern that preceded violence. His gauntlets gleamed in the artificial light, primed and ready.
"Bakugo's really taking this seriously," Kaminari said nervously. "Maybe too seriously."
"That's not taking it seriously," Kenjiro said quietly, his voice cutting through the chatter. "That's personal."
The explosive blonde emerged from his hiding spot like a missile, gauntlets raised and already sparking. His war cry echoed through the corridors as he launched himself at Midoriya with murderous intent.
"DIIIIEEEEE!"
The observation room erupted in shocked gasps. This wasn't the opening move of a training exercise—this was an assassination attempt.
But Midoriya moved.
His reaction time was faster than anyone expected, his body dropping low as he shoved Uraraka aside. Bakugo's explosion tore through the air where Midoriya's head had been a split second before, the blast searing half of his mask away but leaving him otherwise unharmed.
"How did he—" Kaminari started.
"He was ready for it," Kenjiro realized, his respect for the green-haired boy rising. "He knew Bakugo would come for him first."
On screen, Bakugo landed hard, his face twisted with rage and disbelief. "Lucky dodge, Deku! But I'm just getting started!"
Bakugo launched forward again, right fist leading in a textbook explosive punch. But this time, something happened.
Midoriya moved to intercept, his hand shooting out to catch Bakugo's wrist. The two boys struggled for a moment before Midoriya pivoted, using Bakugo's own momentum against him. With a fluid hip toss that would have made any martial arts instructor proud, he slammed the explosive blonde into the concrete floor.
The silence in the observation room was deafening.
Bakugo lay on his back, staring up at Midoriya with an expression of absolute shock. This wasn't the helpless Deku he knew. This was someone who had not only predicted his attack but countered it perfectly.
"WHAT THE HELL?!" Bakugo screamed, scrambling to his feet. "HOW DID YOU—"
"I've been watching you for years, Kacchan," Midoriya said, his voice steady despite the fear still visible in his eyes. "I wrote down everything in my hero analysis notebook. The same one you burned and threw out the window. I knew you'd open with a right hook—you always do when you're angry."
Midoriya straightened, and for the first time since Kenjiro had met him, the boy looked genuinely confident. "You can call me Deku, but the Deku standing here isn't the helpless kid you used to know. I'm the Deku who never gives up."
The words hit Bakugo like a physical blow. His face cycled through several emotions—shock, disbelief, and finally, pure volcanic rage.
"YOU THINK GIVING YOURSELF A STUPID NAME MAKES YOU A HERO?!" Bakugo roared, his entire body trembling with fury. "YOU'RE STILL THAT SAME WORTHLESS, QUIRKLESS PIECE OF SHIT! AND THAT'S EXACTLY WHY I HATE YOU!"
The communication device crackled as Iida's voice came through. "Bakugo! Status report! What's happening down there?"
"SHUT UP AND GUARD THE DAMN BOMB!" Bakugo screamed at his earpiece. "I'M BUSY!"
"But our strategy—"
Bakugo ripped the communicator from his ear and crushed it under his boot. In the bomb room, Iida stared at his own device in dismay, his carefully planned villain act forgotten in the face of his partner's complete abandonment of teamwork.
"This is bad," Mashirao muttered, his tail twitching with anxiety. "He's completely lost control."
On screen, Midoriya was backing away as Bakugo advanced, the blonde's gauntlets sparking with increasing intensity. "Ochaco-chan, go! Find the bomb while he's focused on me!"
"But Deku—"
"I can handle this!" Midoriya insisted, though his voice wavered slightly. "Trust me!"
Uraraka hesitated for a moment, then nodded and ran toward the stairs. Bakugo barely glanced at her retreat—his entire world had narrowed to the boy standing in front of him.
"You were playing weak this whole time," Bakugo snarled, launching himself forward with another explosion-propelled charge. "Making me feel sorry for you!, Acting like a poor helpless Deku!"
Midoriya barely dodged the kick, rolling to the side as Bakugo's boot cracked the concrete where his head had been. "It wasn't like that! I never—"
"LIAR!" Bakugo spun, his hand shooting out in another explosive blast. Midoriya ducked, the heat singeing his already damaged mask. "You were looking down on me the whole time! Just like when we were kids!"
In the observation room, the tension was becoming unbearable. Several students were shifting nervously, looking between the screens and All Might. The hero's smile had completely disappeared, replaced by a deep frown of concern.
"Shouldn't we stop this?" Yaoyorozu asked quietly. "This has gone beyond training."
"Young Bakugo needs to learn control," All Might replied, though his voice lacked its usual confidence. "And Young Midoriya needs to learn to stand up for himself."
"This isn't learning," Kenjiro said sharply. "This is Bakugo trying to prove he's superior by beating Midoriya half to death."
On screen, the fight had devolved into a deadly game of cat and mouse. Bakugo was faster, more experienced, and utterly ruthless. Each explosion was calculated to wound, not kill, but the intent was clear—he wanted Midoriya to suffer.
Meanwhile, on the upper floors, Uraraka had found the bomb room. Iida stood guard over the fake weapon, having transformed the space into an empty concrete box with no cover or obstacles.
"So, the hero appears at last!" Iida announced dramatically, sweeping his arm in a theatrical gesture. "I am the dastardly villain... uh... Ingenium the Evil! And I shall protect this nuclear device with my life!"
Despite the situation, Uraraka couldn't help but giggle. "You're really getting into character, aren't you?"
"A true villain must commit to their role!" Iida declared, though his overly serious delivery only made him more endearing. "I have removed all potential projectiles from this room, neutralizing your gravity-based attacks!"
Uraraka's expression grew more serious as she studied the empty room. Iida had been thorough—there was nothing she could use against him. "Deku-kun, we have a problem up here. Iida-kun cleared everything out."
In his hiding spot below, Midoriya gritted his teeth. He was running out of time and options. Bakugo's relentless assault was wearing him down, and now Uraraka was facing an impossible situation upstairs.
"I know you're listening, Deku!" Bakugo called out, his voice echoing through the corridor. "Stop hiding and use your damn quirk! Show me that power you've been hiding all these years!"
Midoriya pressed himself against the wall, his mind racing. He couldn't use One For All—not at full power. Yesterday had proven that much. But maybe... maybe he didn't need full power. Maybe he just needed to be smarter.
"You take notes on my quirk right?" Bakugo continued, his voice getting closer. "These gauntlets of mine store my sweat you see, Built to release massive blasts when you need them."
Midoriya's blood ran cold. He'd noted every detail of Bakugo's costume design, but he'd never imagined...
"No Bakugo, You'll Kill him!!!" All might Shouted.
" Don't worry he'll be fine as long as he dodges"
In the observation room, All Might's expression shifted to alarm. "Those gauntlets weren't approved for that level of—"
He never finished the sentence. Bakugo pulled the pin.
The explosion was deafening. The screens went white from the flash, then filled with smoke and debris. When the dust settled, a massive section of the building's wall had been completely destroyed, leaving a gaping hole that opened to the outside.
"BAKUGO!" All Might's voice boomed through the communication system. "EXCESSIVE FORCE! ONE MORE BLAST LIKE THAT AND YOUR TEAM LOSES AUTOMATICALLY!"
In the observation room, the students stared in horror at the destruction. This was supposed to be a training exercise, not a demolition job.
"Is... is Midoriya okay?" Ashido asked, her voice small.
The smoke was beginning to clear, revealing Midoriya pressed against the far wall, barely having escaped the blast radius. His costume was singed and torn, but he was alive.
Bakugo emerged from the smoke like an avenging demon, his gauntlets smoking from the discharge. "Not bad, Deku. But you can't run forever."
The explosion had been felt throughout the building. In the bomb room, both Uraraka and Iida had been knocked off their feet by the shockwave.
"What was that?!" Iida demanded, steadying himself.
Uraraka's face was pale with worry. "Deku-kun..."
She tried to use the distraction to grab the bomb, launching herself with her quirk, but Iida was too fast. His engines roared to life, and he intercepted her mid-flight, positioning himself between her and the weapon.
"A cunning plan, but futile!" he declared, though his concern for his classmates was evident in his voice.
Below, the final confrontation was beginning. Bakugo had cornered Midoriya in a dead-end corridor, his usual wild grin replaced by something far more dangerous.
"Last chance, Deku," he said, advancing slowly. "Use your quirk, or I'll beat you unconscious with my bare hands."
Midoriya straightened, and despite his fear, his voice was steady. "You know what, Kacchan? You're right. I have always thought you were amazing. Your quirk, your confidence, your natural talent—I admired all of it. That's exactly why I want to beat you."
Bakugo's eyes widened, thrown off by the admission.
"I never looked down on you," Midoriya continued. "I looked up to you. But that doesn't mean I'll let you walk all over me anymore."
Both boys charged at the same time. Bakugo's gauntlets flared with explosive light while Midoriya raised his right arm, green lightning beginning to crackle around his fist.
But at the last second, Midoriya changed direction.
Instead of meeting Bakugo's charge head-on, he aimed his Detroit Smash directly upward, at the ceiling above them.
"OCHACO-CHAN! GRAB ONTO SOMETHING!"
The punch connected with devastating force. Green lightning exploded through the building's structure, obliterating floor after floor directly above them. The shockwave was tremendous, sending chunks of concrete and rebar crashing down like meteoric rain.
Midoriya's arm shattered from the recoil, bones breaking with audible cracks, but his gambit had worked. Above them, the bomb room's floor gave way, sending Uraraka and Iida plummeting alongside tons of debris.
But Uraraka was ready. She activated her quirk on a piece of broken pillar, using it as a makeshift bat. With a cry of determination, she swung it like a baseball player going for a home run, sending a barrage of concrete chunks flying at Iida.
"Comet Home Run!" she shouted triumphantly.
Iida could only watch in amazement and horror as he was pelted with debris, his speed useless against the widespread attack. Caught in the onslaught, he couldn't prevent Uraraka from floating herself through the hole in the floor and grabbing the bomb.
"Hero team wins!" All Might's voice announced, though it lacked its usual enthusiasm.
In the observation room, the students stared in stunned silence at the screens. The building looked like a war zone. Midoriya was collapsed against the wall, his right arm hanging at an unnatural angle, blood seeping through his torn costume. Bakugo knelt nearby, staring at his unconscious rival with an expression of absolute devastation.
"I lost??" Bakugo whispered, his voice barely audible through the communicators. That bastard he was playing me the entire time..."
The explosive boy's breathing became rapid and shallow, hyperventilating as the reality of what had happened crashed down on him. This wasn't the victory he'd wanted. This wasn't proving his superiority.
"Recovery Girl's on her way," All Might announced, his voice tight with concern. "Everyone else, return to the observation room. We'll... we'll discuss what happened here."
As medical personnel rushed onto the scene, the remaining students filed back into the monitoring room in subdued silence. The excitement of their first hero training had been completely overshadowed by the brutal reality of what they'd just witnessed.
When All Might returned with the three conscious participants, his usual boisterous energy was notably absent. Bakugo slumped in a chair, staring at the floor, while Uraraka worried at her fingernails and Iida adjusted his glasses nervously.
"Well then," All Might said, his voice unnaturally quiet, "who can tell me what went wrong in that exercise?"
The silence stretched uncomfortably until Asui raised her hand. "The heroes won, kero, so shouldn't one of them be the MVP?"
All Might shook his head. "Winning and performing well are two different things. Young Iida, would you like to explain why you were chosen as the MVP?"
Iida looked surprised. "I was?"
Yaoyorozu raised her hand. "It's because you were the only one who treated the exercise seriously," she explained. "You stayed in character, followed the objectives, and adapted your strategy to counter the enemy's abilities. The others let their personal feelings interfere with the mission."
She glanced meaningfully at Bakugo, who flinched. "Midoriya-kun's final gambit was clever, but extremely reckless. He could have brought the entire building down. Bakugo-kun abandoned his partner and ignored the exercise parameters to pursue a personal vendetta. And while Uraraka-san adapted well to the changing situation, she was largely reactive rather than proactive."
All Might nodded sadly. "Precisely. This exercise was meant to teach you about teamwork, strategy, and the importance of maintaining your objectives even under pressure. Instead, it became a demonstration of how personal conflicts can endanger everyone involved."
He looked directly at Bakugo, his blue eyes serious. "Young Bakugo, your behavior today was completely unacceptable. A hero's first duty is to protect others—including their opponents. You nearly killed a classmate over a childhood grudge."
Bakugo said nothing, but his hands clenched into fists.
"However," All Might continued, "Young Midoriya also bears responsibility. That final attack could have killed everyone in the building, including his own partner. Heroic intentions don't excuse reckless endangerment."
The weight of the lesson settled over the class like a heavy blanket. This wasn't the glamorous, exciting world of heroism they'd imagined. This was dangerous, complicated, and filled with moral gray areas.
As the class prepared to leave for the day, Kenjiro found himself walking alongside Iida, who looked troubled.
"Something bothering you?" Kenjiro asked.
Iida adjusted his glasses. "I was named MVP, but I feel like I failed completely. My partner ignored our strategy and nearly committed assault. How can that be considered a success?"
"Because you did your job," Kenjiro replied simply. "You can't control other people's choices, only your own reactions to them. You stayed professional, adapted to the situation, and achieved your objective. That's what being a hero is about—doing the right thing even when everything around you is falling apart."
Iida considered this, then nodded slowly. "Thank you, Ito-kun. That... actually helps."
A chime sounded through the room, followed by All Might's voice, now back to its broadcast tone, though it still carried an underlying strain. "WILL THE NEXT HERO TEAM AND VILLAIN TEAM PLEASE REPORT TO TRAINING GROUND BETA! TEAM B AND TEAM G! THAT IS KENJIRO ITO AND MOMO YAOYOROZU AS THE HEROES, VERSUS EIJIRO KIRISHIMA AND FUMIKAGE TOKoyAMI AS THE VILLAINS!"
The announcement was a bucket of cold water. The spell of the previous match broke. Eyes turned toward Kenjiro and Yaoyorozu, who both straightened up. The analytical girl met Kenjiro's gaze, her expression shifting from pensive observation to focused readiness. Kirishima cracked his knuckles, a determined grin spreading across his face, while Tokoyami gave a slow, solemn nod.
"Right," Kenjiro said, pushing off from the console. "Our turn."
"Let's do our best, Ito-san," Yaoyorozu said, falling into step beside him as they headed for the door.
The walk to the training ground entrance was quiet, the echoes of the last battle still ringing in the sterile corridors. Yaoyorozu was the first to speak, her voice thoughtful. "That was… a valuable, if brutal, lesson. The importance of teamwork and composure."
"And the cost of losing them," Kenjiro added. "We can't let that happen. We need a plan, and we need to stick to it."
"Agreed. Our opponents are a fascinating combination. Kirishima's Hardening provides incredible defense and close-quarters power. Tokoyami's Dark Shadow is immensely powerful, especially in darkness or enclosed spaces, but potentially vulnerable to strong, direct light. Our primary advantage is your speed and my versatility."
They reached the entrance to a different building within the training ground, this one a labyrinthine office complex. "Villains are inside!" All Might's voice boomed from a speaker overhead. "You have fifteen minutes! Begin!"
Kenjiro turned to Yaoyorozu. "Okay. Here's the play. They'll expect my speed. They'll be waiting for a frontal assault. So we don't give them one."
Yaoyorozu's eyes lit up. "A misdirection."
"Exactly. You're the hero."
She blinked. "Pardon?"
"You go in first. Make a show of it. Be loud. Create a distraction on the ground floor. Draw their attention. Kirishima will probably come to engage you directly. He's straightforward. Honor-bound. He won't ignore a challenge."
"And while he's focused on me…"
"I go vertical," Kenjiro finished, tapping his foot against the wall. "I find a way outside and up. I scout the building from the outside, floor by floor, through the windows. I find the weapon and, more importantly, I find Tokoyami. Without Kirishima to protect him, he's vulnerable. I get in, secure the weapon, and get out before Dark Shadow can even react."
..."Understood. I'll create a sufficiently compelling distraction." She concentrated for a moment, and a small, cylindrical object with a bright LED light on one end emerged from her arm. "A flare gun. It won't harm the structure, but it will be very loud and very bright. It should get his attention."
"Perfect. On your mark."
Yaoyorozu took a deep breath, stepped into the main lobby, and fired the flare gun into the ceiling. A deafening *BANG* echoed through the building, followed by a blinding flash of light.
"HEY, VILLAINS!" she yelled, her voice impressively commanding. "SHOW YOURSELVES! LET'S SEE IF YOUR DEFENSES ARE AS TOUGH AS THEY SAY!"
Almost immediately, heavy, rapid footsteps pounded down a staircase. Kirishima burst into the lobby, his skin and hair transformed into sharp, reddish rock. "You wanna test it? Bring it on, Yaoyorozu! That's plenty manly of you!" He grinned, slamming a hardened fist into his palm.
Perfect. Just as planned.
While Kirishima's attention was entirely on Yaoyorozu, who was now creating a large metal shield to defend against his charge, Kenjiro moved.
He didn't run through the door. He took three steps back into the entranceway, then 'pushed'.
The world sharpened, the colors saturating, the sound of the confrontation in the lobby stretching into a deep, drawn-out roar. He was a streak of blue lightning, zipping back down the corridor they'd come from, out the main entrance, and into the open air.
He didn't stop. He hit the outer wall of the office building and ran straight up it, his friction-resistant boots finding purchase on the slightest imperfections in the concrete. He became a blur ascending the side of the building, his eyes scanning the windows as he passed each floor.
'Second floor. Empty.'
'Third floor. Empty.'
!Fourth floor—there!
In a large, open-plan office on the fourth floor, he saw it. The nuclear weapon prop, sitting in the center of the room. And standing guard before it was Tokoyami, his arms crossed, Dark Shadow coiled around him like a living cloak of darkness, its yellow eyes scanning the interior.
Kenjiro perched on the windowsill of the empty third-floor office, the world returning to its normal pace. His initial instinct was immediate, almost laughably simple. 'I could end this in less three seconds.'
He pictured it. A burst through the window above. Not even a fight. Just a high-speed grab. He'd be a blur, in and out. The capture tape would be around the weapon before Tokoyami's brain could even register the sound of breaking glass. Dark Shadow, for all its power, was sluggish compared to his top speed. It wouldn't even be a contest.
It was the most efficient path to victory. Clean. Simple.
But then he looked down. Through the window, he could see the lobby. Yaoyorozu had created a staff now, using it to deftly parry Kirishima's hardened jabs. She was holding her own, but it was a stalemate. She was playing her part perfectly, trusting him to play his.
A hollow victory, then. To just win himself, to rob her of the experience, to reduce this exercise to a solo sprint. That wasn't the point. This was Foundational Hero Studies, not Foundational Speedster Studies. Aizawa's lesson, Bakugo's catastrophic failure… it all pointed to the same thing: raw power was meaningless without control and cooperation.
He made a decision.
He pushed off the wall, landing silently back at the building's main entrance. He took a breath, letting his heart rate settle, and walked back inside at a normal pace, rejoining the "battle."
He found Yaoyorozu expertly using her staff to deflect a wild swing from Kirishima. "Ito-san! Status?" she called out, not taking her eyes off her opponent.
"Weapon's on the fourth floor. Tokoyami and Dark Shadow are guarding it. Tight space. A direct assault is what they'll expect." He kept his voice calm, feeding her information as if his recon had been more difficult than it was.
Kirishima laughed, skidding back a step. "Yeah, you're not getting past them easy! Dark Shadow's a monster in there!"
"Then we change the conditions," Yaoyorozu said, her mind already working. A canister began to form on her arm. "Flashbang. It will disorient Dark Shadow long enough for you to get past. I'll keep Kirishima occupied here."
It was a good plan. A solid, cooperative plan. Kenjiro nodded. "Do it."
Yaoyorozu finished creating the device and tossed it to him. Kenjiro turned and ran for the stairs—at a *normal* human sprint. He took them two at a time, hearing the clash of staff against rock-hard skin fading behind him.
He reached the fourth-floor doorway. He could see Tokoyami standing vigil, Dark Shadow swirling restlessly. Kenjiro took a breath, primed the flashbang, and rolled it into the room.
"BANG-WHITE.!!"
The room lit up with a concussive blast of light and sound. Dark Shadow screeched, recoiling violently into Tokoyami's body, disoriented and weakened by the sudden sensory overload. Tokoyami himself flinched, throwing up an arm to shield his eyes.
'Now.'
Kenjiro moved. But he didn't push. He just ran. He sprinted across the room, his footsteps echoing. It felt… slow. Molasses-like. To him, it was a casual jog. To Tokoyami, it was a sudden, startling burst of speed.
Tokoyami recovered quickly, his fighter' instincts kicking in. "Dark Shadow!" he commanded, his voice strained.
The quirk emerged, sluggish and enraged, lashing out with a clawed tendril. It was fast. Incredibly fast for anyone else.
But to Kenjiro, it was like watching a tree fall in slow motion. He could see the path of the attack, the micro-expressions of fury on Dark Shadow's face, the determined set of Tokoyami's jaw. He didn't need to break the sound barrier. He simply leaned back, letting the dark energy swipe through the air an inch from his chest. He took another step.
Another tendril shot out. Kenjiro dropped into a slide, the inky claw passing over his head. He was toying with them. He could have been at the weapon after the flashbang faded. Instead, he was giving them a chance. Letting them practice. Letting himself practice working around a powerful opponent without resorting to overwhelming force.
He was in front of the weapon now. Tokoyami was breathing heavily, Dark Shadow's attacks becoming more frantic, less precise. "You are… frustratingly agile," Tokoyami gritted out.
"Thanks," Kenjiro said. He made a show of ducking another swing, then feinted left before diving right. It was all for show. The outcome had never been in doubt. He reached the weapon and swiftly wrapped the capture tape around its base.
"FUMIKAGE TOKOYAMI, YOU HAVE BEEN CAPTURED!"
The announcement rang out. Dark Shadow let out a final, frustrated screech before dissolving back into Tokoyami's body. Tokoyami slumped slightly, a sigh of resignation escaping him. "A well-executed strategy. Your speed is… demoralizing."
Kenjiro offered a hand. "Your quirk is crazy powerful. In a darker place, or if I'd given you more time to recover, that would have been a different fight."
Tokoyami took the hand, a flicker of respect in his dark eyes. "Perhaps. The victory is yours regardless."
They walked down to the lobby together. The fight there had ended the moment the announcement was made. Yaoyorozu was leaning on her staff, breathing heavily but smiling. Kirishima was beaming, his hardening receded.
"Dude, that was awesome!" Kirishima exclaimed. "So manly! We never stood a chance!"
"Your defense was formidable, Kirishima," Yaoyorozu said graciously. "You very nearly broke through my guard several times."
"Yeah, but you were so smart with that staff! I've never fought anyone like that!"
All Might approached them, his large presence beaming with genuine, less-forced pride. "SPLENDID! ABSOLUTELY SPLENDID! A VICTORY FORMED FROM SUPERB TEAMWORK AND ADAPTABILITY! YOUNG ITO'S RECONNAISSANCE, YOUNG YAOYOROZU'S DISTRACTION AND TOOL CREATION, AND A PERFECTLY EXECUTED ASSAULT! AND YOU TWO VILLAINS PUT UP A NOBLE AND TENACIOUS DEFENSE! THIS IS THE SPIRIT OF HEROIC COMBAT!"
The praise felt good, but it was layered with a private understanding for Kenjiro. He had chosen the harder path, the collaborative path, and it had paid off in a deeper way than a simple win. He had built trust. He had proven he could be a team player.
As they walked back to the observation room, the mood was light, a shared sense of accomplishment between the four of them. When they entered, the class looked at them differently. The memory of the first match's brutality was still there, but now it was tempered by this demonstration of what a successful, controlled exercise could look like.
Kenjiro found his spot against the wall as the next teams were called. He watched his classmates prepare, his mind already analyzing their quirks, their personalities, their potential strategies. The lesson was etching itself into him.
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