Was feeling lazy and didn't want to write but managed it anyway cause i want to be consistent, drop comments
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extra chapters of Echoing Dream on my kofi
Aftermath and Alliances
The observation room felt different after Kenjiro and Yaoyorozu's match. The oppressive cloud of Bakugo's rage and Midoriya's sacrifice had been pierced by a demonstration of clean, effective teamwork. The air still hummed with tension, but now it was the electric buzz of analysis and potential, not the leaden weight of dread.
Kenjiro leaned against the back wall, the cool console a welcome pressure against his spine. His body thrummed with the afterglow of controlled action, a stark contrast to the jittery, raw energy that usually followed a full-speed sprint. He'd held back, and paradoxically, it felt more powerful.
He watched the next matches unfold with a new, sharper focus.
Team H—the boy with the electricity quirk, Kaminari, and the girl with the creation quirk, a quiet girl named Jiro—were pitted against Team C—the invisible girl, Toru, and the sugar-rush hero, Sato.
It was a comedy of errors. Kaminari, overeager, unleashed a massive indiscriminate shock that short-circuited the building's lights and his own brain, leaving him grinning vacantly and giving a thumbs-up. In the resulting darkness, Jiro, using her earphone jacks to navigate by sound, managed to accidentally corner her own teammate while Toru, completely unseen, simply walked past the dazed Kaminari and secured the weapon. The class erupted in laughter, a much-needed release.
"Well," Mashirao said from beside Kenjiro, a faint smile on his face. "That was… a strategy."
"An effective one, in its own chaotic way," Kenjiro replied, chuckling. "Toru played her quirk perfectly. Sometimes not being seen is the strongest advantage."
The next match was more serious. Team E—the icy, powerful Todoroki—was paired with the plain-looking boy from the entrance exam, Shoji, against Team F—the acid girl, Mina, and the bird-headed boy, Tokoyami.
It was over in seconds.
Todoroki didn't say a word. He simply stepped into the building, placed a hand on the floor, and a glacier of ice erupted from his fingertips. It shot down the corridors, freezing everything in its path, sealing doors, and encasing the entire first floor in a thick layer of ice in a matter of heartbeats. The temperature in the observation room seemed to drop several degrees.
The monitors showed Mina and Tokoyami completely immobilized up to their chests in ice, the weapon frozen solid behind them. Dark Shadow, weakened by the sudden cold and the residual light from the ice, could only let out a feeble peep before retreating.
Silence.
No one laughed. The sheer, overwhelming, effortless power on display was terrifying. Todoroki had won without breaking a sweat, without a single word to his partner, without any discernible strategy other than absolute domination.
"He didn't even…" Kirishima started, then trailed off, his usual bravado muted.
"He didn't need to," Kenjiro finished quietly, his own victory suddenly feeling small, almost quaint. Todoroki's power was on a different scale entirely. It was a blunt instrument, but its force was undeniable.
The final match was called, but the energy had been siphoned from the room. Everyone was processing the sheer disparity of power they'd just witnessed.
All Might's debriefing was uncharacteristically brief. He praised the winners, offered encouragement to the losers, and reminded everyone of the core principles of heroism. But his eyes kept flicking to Todoroki, who stood apart from everyone, his expression as icy as his quirk.
"THAT CONCLUDES TODAY'S FOUNDATIONAL HERO STUDIES!" All Might boomed, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "CHANGE AND RETURN TO CLASSROOM 1-A FOR DISMISSAL! AND REMEMBER… GO BEYOND!"
The locker room was a cacophony of chatter and clanging lockers. The adrenaline from the battles was fading, replaced by the deep ache of exertion and the buzz of post-game analysis.
"Did you see Todoroki?"
"That ice was insane!"
"I thought Bakugo was intense, but that was just cold."
"Literally!"
Kenjiro changed quietly, his mind replaying the matches. Bakugo's fury, his own controlled speed, Todoroki's absolute power. They were all different answers to the same question: what does it mean to be a hero?
He was pulling on his jacket when he felt a presence beside him. It was Midoriya. His right arm was heavily bandaged and suspended in a sling, his face pale but his eyes burning with their usual determined light.
"I-Ito-san," Midoriya stammered.
"Midoriya. You okay?" Kenjiro asked, genuinely concerned. The memory of that shattered arm was vivid.
"R-Recovery Girl fixed the worst of it," he said, gesturing with his good hand. "It'll be sore for a few days. I, um… I saw your match. On the monitor in the nurse's office. You and Yaoyorozu were amazing. The way you used your speed for reconnaissance and then coordinated the attack… it was really strategic!"
The praise, delivered with such earnest enthusiasm, was disarming. "Thanks. It was a team effort. You… you were pretty strategic yourself. That punch…"
Midoriya's face fell slightly. "It was stupid. I lost control. I just… I saw Kacchan and…" He shook his head. "I have a lot to learn about control."
The understatement of the century. But Kenjiro nodded. "Don't we all. That's why we're here." He hesitated, then asked the question that had been nagging him. "That power… it's new, isn't it?"
Midoriya flinched, a deer-in-headlights look flashing across his face. "I… uh… well…"
Kenjiro held up a hand. "You don't have to explain. It's none of my business. Just… be careful with it. It looks like it breaks you as much as it breaks everything else."
The relief on Midoriya's face was palpable. "I will. Thank you, Ito-san."
As Midoriya moved away, Kirishima slung an arm around Kenjiro's neck. "Hey, speedster! Good match out there! You and Ponytail make a good team!"
"You too, Hardening. You're a tough guy to put down."
"That's the goal!" Kirishima laughed. "Hey, a bunch of us are gonna grab some food after this. You in? Blasty probably won't show, but it'll be me, Kaminari, Sero, maybe Jiro. You should come."
The invitation was unexpected but welcome. "Yeah," Kenjiro found himself saying. "Yeah, that sounds good."
The group that assembled outside the school gates was a motley crew. Kirishima was their boisterous leader, Kaminari was still slightly spacey but recovering, Sero—the tape guy—was laid-back and grinning, and Jiro looked mildly embarrassed to be there but wasn't leaving. To Kenjiro's surprise, Yaoyorozu and Toru joined them as well.
"A post-battle debrief is an excellent idea," Yaoyorozu stated, ever the scholar.
"And I'm starving!" Toru's gloves waved emphatically.
They found a crowded, noisy ramen shop a few blocks from campus. The smell of rich broth and frying pork was a welcome assault on the senses. They squeezed into a large booth, bowls of steaming noodles quickly arriving before them.
The conversation was easy, flowing from the battles to classes to stupid jokes. Kaminari tried to explain his "Indiscriminate Shock 1.3 Million Volts" move, which everyone agreed was a terrible idea. Sero demonstrated how his tape could be used to steal a piece of pork from Kaminari's bowl from across the table, which led to a mock battle with noodles used as whips.
Kenjiro found himself laughing, really laughing, for the first time since he'd woken up in this new world. This was it. This was the other side of the heroics coin—the camaraderie, the shared struggle, the simple joy of a meal after a hard day.
"So, Ito," Jiro said, poking at her egg with a chopstick. "Your quirk. Is it just… go fast? Or is there more to it?"
The table quieted down, curious. Kenjiro took a sip of his broth, considering his answer.
"It's… complicated," he said. "The base is speed. But it's not just my legs moving fast. It feels like… I'm compressing time around me. I think, I see, I react faster. The world slows down. The hard part isn't going fast; it's *not* going fast. It's moving at a normal pace without feeling like I'm crawling. And stopping. Stopping is a nightmare."
"Dude, that's so cool," Kaminari said, his mouth full. "You're like a superhero from those pre-Quirk comics!"
"The friction alone must be insane," Yaoyorozu mused. "Your costume's boots must have a remarkable heat-dissipation system."
"They're getting there," Kenjiro said with a wry smile. "I've melted my fair share of sneakers."
"What about you, Yaoyorozu?" Sero asked. "Creating anything? That's wild. Does it hurt?"
"Not at all," she replied. "It's a matter of molecular composition and lipid conversion. I simply need to understand the atomic structure of what I wish to create."
A stunned silence followed.
"I have no idea what you just said," Kaminari admitted cheerfully. "But it sounds awesome."
The conversation continued, each of them sharing bits and pieces of their quirks, their struggles, their hopes. Toru talked about the challenges of being invisible ("Try finding a dropped contact lens. I dare you."). Kirishima spoke earnestly about his idol, Crimson Riot, and his goal of becoming an "unbreakable hero."
Kenjiro listened, absorbing it all. These weren't just names on a class roster or quirks in a notebook anymore. They were people. Flawed, funny, determined people.
As they were finishing up, the door to the ramen shop chimed. Iida walked in, alone. He looked surprised to see them, adjusting his glasses.
"Iida! Over here!" Kirishima waved him over.
Iida approached stiffly. "I was just completing my evening review of today's lessons. I did not expect to see so many of you here."
"Pull up a chair, man!" Sero said, sliding over. "We're just talking about the matches."
Iida hesitated, then sat, his posture perfect even on the ramen shop's stool. "I see. I must apologize again for my team's performance. It was a disgraceful display of—"
"Dude, stop," Kirishima interrupted, not unkindly. "It's over. We're all learning. Right, Ito?"
All eyes turned to Kenjiro. He looked at Iida, who was waiting, almost braced for criticism.
"Kirishima's right," Kenjiro said. "You did your job. Bakugo made his choices. You can't control him. You can only control how you respond. And from what I saw, you responded by being a professional. That matters."
Iida looked down at his hands, then back up, a new resolve in his eyes. "Thank you. I… I will strive to do better."
The moment was broken by the sound of loud, familiar explosions from down the street. Everyone flinched. Through the window, they saw Bakugo storming past, his hands sparking, his face a thundercloud. He didn't even glance into the shop.
A collective, unconscious sigh of relief went through the group when he was gone.
"Well," Jiro said dryly. "There goes the neighborhood."
The tension broke, and they all laughed, the easy camaraderie returning. But the shadow had passed, a reminder of the challenges that lay ahead.
Later, as they all went their separate ways into the cool evening air, Kenjiro walked with Toru and Mashirao toward the station.
"That was fun," Toru said, her voice cheerful. "They're a good bunch. Even Four-Eyes."
"They are," Kenjiro agreed. He felt a sense of belonging, a connection he hadn't realized he'd been missing.
"Todoroki didn't come, though," Mashirao noted quietly. "He left right after the debrief."
Kenjiro thought of the boy's icy isolation, his overwhelming power wielded with such cold disdain. "He's on a different path right now."
They reached the station. As Kenjiro boarded his train, he looked back at his friends—the visible and the invisible—standing on the platform. The first day of real hero training was over. It had been brutal, enlightening, and ultimately, hopeful.
.
.
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Relinquish your stones and i might spare an extra chapter