The roar of the crowd came like a living wave.Color, noise, heat — every seat in the U.A. arena thrummed with the sound of thousands waiting for the next phase of the Sports Festival. The morning's chaos of the obstacle race and base-defense challenge was behind them; now came the part everyone had waited for — one-on-one combat.
The massive screen above the field flickered to life, displaying the first bracket.
Match 1: Izuku Midoriya vs. Hitoshi Shinso
Present Mic's voice boomed across the speakers, vibrant as ever."AND WE'RE KICKING THINGS OFF WITH A MATCH BETWEEN CLASS 1-A'S VERY OWN GREEN FREIGHT TRAIN AND THE DARK HORSE FROM GENERAL STUDIES! Make some noise for—MIDORIYA AND SHINSO!"
A burst of cheers rose, though it was mixed with a few murmurs. Many in the stands hadn't seen Shinso before. General Studies didn't often make it this far.
Harry slipped into the student section, brushing off the last bit of chalk dust from his gloves. Ochako waved him over."Where were you?" she asked."Finishing up some prep work," Harry said, sitting down beside her. His robe was folded neatly at his side. "Had to make sure I'm not running into a match with half-charged cards."She smiled faintly, then turned her attention to the field. "Midoriya looks nervous."
He did — even from here, Harry could see the way Midoriya's hands twitched at his sides, his breath measured but uneven. Shinso, in contrast, walked calm, expression unreadable, posture relaxed. When he reached the ring, he didn't raise his fists. He just stood there, hands in pockets, and smirked faintly.
Midnight's whip cracked through the air."Match start!"
Midoriya took off immediately — not a reckless sprint, but determined steps forward, weight distributed low. Shinso didn't move. He just tilted his head, watching him approach.
"You know," Shinso said, voice carrying easily even without a mic, "it must be nice… being in the Hero Course."
Midoriya's brow furrowed.
"I worked myself to the bone," Shinso continued, pacing slowly. "And yet—here I am, in General Studies, while people like you—quirkless until yesterday—get in because of luck. Must feel good."
Harry leaned forward slightly. "He's baiting him."
Aizawa, seated at the staff table, folded his arms. "Yeah. Classic provocation. Don't answer him, Midoriya."
But Midoriya didn't hear that. He was already caught in Shinso's rhythm, his steps faltering."You think having a flashy quirk makes you a hero?" Shinso said, voice tightening. "You think someone like me doesn't deserve to stand where you're standing? While you—"
He smirked."—cling to your little friends for strength? That pink-haired girl… what's her name? Ochako? Just following stronger boys around?"
Midoriya froze. His hands curled into fists."Take that back!"
And that was all Shinso needed.
Midoriya's face slackened. His eyes dulled.The crowd's cheers quieted in confusion as he turned, step by step, toward the ring's edge.
"What's happening?" Ochako's voice trembled.Harry's fingers twitched toward his satchel out of instinct — even though there was nothing he could do. He frowned, thinking. No physical contact. No visible quirk emission.
Aizawa's voice, low and steady, carried through the comms to the pro-hero box."Brainwashing quirk," he said. "Triggered by verbal response."
The crowd started to buzz as realization spread.On the field, Shinso watched, calm as glass. "There it is," he murmured. "Same as always."
Midoriya kept walking. The white line marking the ring's edge loomed closer. Ten meters. Five.Shinso's shoulders relaxed, victory seconds away.
And then — Midoriya twitched.
Electric arcs rippled across his arms, faint and blue. His pupils constricted. The air itself seemed to hum.For the briefest second, he saw something: silhouettes — six or seven figures in the haze — reaching for him, luminous shapes framed in static. His heart jolted.
Pain bloomed in his fingers as he moved. One flick — the air cracked with a sharp pop.
Shinso stumbled back in surprise as Midoriya gasped, eyes snapping back into focus."What—?"
Midoriya didn't wait for an explanation. He lunged forward, silent, every muscle straining. Shinso raised an arm, shouting, "Talk to me! Say something!"But Midoriya didn't.He didn't even breathe loud enough to be heard.
A single rush, a shoulder slam — Shinso was shoved out of the ring's boundary. The buzzer blared.
"AND THE WINNER IS—IZUKU MIDORIYA!" Present Mic screamed, nearly shaking his headset. "WHAT A TURNAROUND! WHAT JUST HAPPENED DOWN THERE?!"
The crowd exploded in applause.Shinso sat on the ground, dazed but not angry. He looked up at Midoriya, who extended a hand. Shinso ignored it, muttering under his breath."You don't know how lucky you are."
Midoriya didn't argue. He just nodded quietly.
Harry exhaled."That was risky," he said under his breath.Beside him, Ochako laughed weakly, relief flooding her features. "That was so close."Aizawa leaned forward slightly, eyes narrow, watching Midoriya as he left the field. "Lucky, yes," he murmured. "But also… promising."
Match Two: Shoto Todoroki vs. Hanta Sero.
The contrast was brutal.The match barely lasted twenty seconds — Sero's tape shot out, sharp and quick, but Todoroki's ice spread like a tidal wave. The ring was a frozen crater by the time Midnight called the end. Present Mic didn't even get halfway through his commentary before it was over.
Match Three: Denki Kaminari vs. Ibara Shiozaki.
This one was stranger — Kaminari opened with lightning, a wild, unfocused blast that seared through the air. But Ibara's vines surged like living chains, grounding themselves into the ring and coiling around the bolts, redirecting them harmlessly into the floor.Within a minute, Kaminari's grin faded.He tried again, overcharging — and Ibara caught him mid-arc, vines wrapping his wrists. One precise pull — and Kaminari's body went stiff, electricity snapping through his own arms.
"AND THE WINNER IS—IBARA SHIOZAKI!"Present Mic barely finished the announcement before Kaminari's dazed, static-filled "Wheee!" echoed across the stadium, earning laughter from the stands.
By the time the next match was announced, Harry stood, stretching. The crowd's cheers rolled over him like wind.He glanced at his satchel, at the faint glimmer of his spell cards inside. The tension in his shoulders loosened slightly.
Ochako called after him. "You're up soon, right?""Yeah," he said, adjusting his robe. "Time to see how magic stacks up against quirks."
He smiled faintly, but his eyes were serious as he stepped toward the tunnel.The crowd's noise grew louder. The air changed.
The next match was his.