Author's Note
In the original My Hero Academia story, the students competed in the U.A. Sports Festival while wearing the standard gym uniforms. For this fanfiction, I've chosen to adjust that detail.
The logic is simple: the Sports Festival isn't just a test of physical ability—it's a showcase to the world, with pros and agencies watching closely. For the students to demonstrate their true potential, it makes more sense for them to compete in their full hero costumes and support gear. This way, quirks, strategies, and individual styles shine to their fullest.
The U.A. stadium was alive.
Fifty thousand voices rumbled in the air, their anticipation coiled tight like springs ready to snap. Flags bearing the U.A. crest rippled across the stands, while vendors shouted over one another about roasted skewers and sweet drinks. The field below was pristine, ringed by giant screens that magnified every flicker of movement for the audience. Above it all, the sky stretched blue and unbroken, a stage as vast as the ambitions gathered here.
This wasn't just an athletic festival. It was a crucible, the place where aspiring heroes showed not just skill, but spirit. And today, Class 1-A would step into that crucible for the first time.
The iron gates at the base of the arena ground open with a mechanical groan. A ripple of cheers rose like a tide.
Twenty students emerged in a column, each stride amplified on the enormous screens. The crowd's roar shifted with each face — shouts of encouragement, mutters of curiosity, and, in some corners, sharp gasps of recognition.
Katsuki Bakugo walked at the head of the group. Hands shoved into his pockets, chin high, scowl etched deep, he didn't glance at the crowd. Sparks occasionally popped from his palms, each one loud enough to be caught by the mics. The audience ate it up, half thrilled, half wary.
Behind him was Todoroki Shoto. Composed, unmoved, his mismatched hair stark under the sun. The cool aura around him seemed to freeze the noise at his back before it thawed into fresh cheers. His eyes scanned the stadium with disinterest, as though already plotting the path to victory.
Then came Midoriya Izuku. Shoulders tense, fists clenched white, steps slightly too fast like he was keeping himself from breaking into a jog. The nervous energy poured from him, but so did determination. The camera lingered on him longer than usual, catching the way he muttered something under his breath — probably strategizing even now.
A little off to the side was Harry Potter. His robe, deep green with silver trim, swept just above the ground, stitched with discreet pouches that bulged with cards. A satchel hung at his hip, clasped shut, though the crowd could see faint outlines of rectangular slips inside. Unlike the polished uniforms or sleek hero costumes of his classmates, Harry's gear looked almost archaic — a scholar's battle robe. Yet when the camera zoomed in on his face, there was no nervous muttering or explosive bravado. His gaze swept the course shown on the screens, sharp and calculating.
Midnight, clad in her trademark black and violet, stood on the raised podium at the stadium's center. She cracked her whip for silence. The sound cut through the crowd, crisp as lightning.
"Welcome, students! Welcome, spectators! And welcome, heroes of tomorrow!" Her voice rolled over the arena. "This is the start of U.A.'s annual Sports Festival, where our brightest first-years will prove their mettle! Only the strongest, cleverest, and boldest will stand victorious!"
The crowd roared back, feet stomping, the stands trembling.
"The first event—" Midnight spun, her arm sweeping toward the colossal screens — "is an OBSTACLE RACE!"
Gasps and cheers surged. On the display, a digital model of the track unfolded: a four-kilometer gauntlet of challenges. At the start, massive faux-villain robots lumbered, each one modeled after training bots used for hero combat. Next came the chasm — a long, jagged pit bridged only by precarious pillars. After that, the forest of walls and climbing nets, high and tangled. And finally, the minefield: a plain that glittered innocently, packed with pressure-triggered surprises.
"Four kilometers," Midnight said, her grin sharp. "No rules, no mercy, only ingenuity and guts! Get across the finish line by any means necessary!"
At the starting line, the students spread out across the breadth of the track. Elbows jostled, eyes narrowed, tension sharp as drawn blades.
Bakugo shoved his way to the very front, sneering at anyone who drifted too close. "Out of my way, extras."
Todoroki said nothing, simply claiming his lane with icy silence.
Midoriya clenched and unclenched his fists, muttering to himself.
Harry slid into position a step behind the front line. He drew one card between his fingers, testing its balance before slipping it back into a sleeve pocket. His robe shifted lightly with the enchantment, weightless and ready. He whispered under his breath: "Burst for speed, shield for impact. Keep it simple."
The other students cast glances his way. Some puzzled. Some dismissive. A robe and cards weren't exactly reassuring against Todoroki's ice or Bakugo's explosions. But Harry ignored them, eyes fixed on the first line of obstacles looming ahead.
The audience roared, a wave of excitement rolling through every corner. Families held up banners with names painted in bold. Scouts scribbled in notepads, murmuring observations.
"This is it," someone shouted, voice breaking. "This is where heroes are born!"
Children on their parents' shoulders waved U.A. flags, their laughter drowned in the growing drumbeat of anticipation.
On the podium, Midnight raised her whip again. "Students—ON YOUR MARKS!"
The entire stadium seemed to hold its breath.
Bakugo crouched forward, palms already sparking. Todoroki's breath frosted faintly, a shimmer of cold in the warm air. Midoriya leaned down, trembling but coiled like a spring. Harry adjusted his stance, knees bent, hands ready to snap a card forward.
"SET!"
The tension snapped taut, the entire stadium leaning in as one.
The whip cracked.
"GO!"