Chapter 23: The King of Violence.
The arena maintenance bots had finished smoothing over the concrete scars left by Todoroki's ice and Aokiji's frost. The stage was gray and pristine again, waiting for the next collision.
"ALRIGHT! THE SECOND ROUND CONTINUES!" Present Mic's voice echoed, slightly raspy but still full of energy. "LET'S KEEP THE TEMPO UP! FROM THE HERO COURSE, THE CLASS REP WITH THE TURBO LEGS! TENYA IIDA!"
Iida walked out of the tunnel. He marched with stiff, robotic precision, his face set in a mask of intense focus. He adjusted his glasses, checking the traction of his boots on the fresh cement.
"AND HIS OPPONENT! THE MAN OF HARDENING! EIJIRO KIRISHIMA!"
The camera panned to the entrance tunnel. It was empty.
The crowd murmured. "Where is he?"
"Oh crap!" A voice shouted from the student stands. "I forgot to go down!"
All eyes turned upward. Eijiro Kirishima was standing on the railing of the spectator seating, grinning sheepishly.
"Sorry! I got caught up watching the replays!"
He didn't take the stairs. He simply hardened his legs—his skin turning into jagged rock—and jumped.
BOOM.
He landed in the center of the arena, creating a small crater and a cloud of dust. He stood up, dusting off his knees, flashing a sharp-toothed smile.
"That's a flashy entrance!" Present Mic yelled. "BUT DON'T DAMAGE THE MERCHANDISE BEFORE THE FIGHT STARTS!"
Kirishima laughed, turning to Iida. "My bad, Class Rep! But hey, since we're both physical fighters, let's make this a manly match! No tricks! Just power!"
Iida looked at Kirishima. Behind his glasses, his eyes were calculating.
Kirishima-kun's defense is formidable, Iida thought, his engines idling with a low hum. In a battle of attrition, his hardening will outlast my stamina. If I get dragged into a grappling match, I lose. I cannot play his game.
Iida lowered his stance, looking like a sprinter on the blocks.
I have to end this in the first second.
"START!"
Kirishima slammed his fists together. "TIME TO BE UNBREAK—"
He didn't finish the sentence.
"RECIPRO BURST!"
The sound wasn't a run; it was an explosion. The mufflers on Iida's calves turned blue-hot, screaming as he forced his engines past their safety limits.
He vanished.
To the audience, it looked like Iida had teleported. One moment he was at the starting line; the next, his leg was buried in Kirishima's guard.
CLANG!
The sound of metal hitting rock rang out like a temple bell. Kirishima's red eyes widened in shock as he saw the kick—a blur of silver—impact his crossed arms.
"So fast—!"
The force lifted Kirishima off his feet. He flew backward, skidding across the concrete toward the boundary line.
"NOT YET!" Kirishima roared.
He drove his hardened fingers into the concrete, gouging deep trails in the floor to slow his momentum. Sparks flew. He ground to a halt just inches from the white line.
"Haha!" Kirishima panted, looking up, adrenaline pumping. "That was heavy, Iida! But you gotta do better than—"
He froze.
In the reflection of his crimson eyes, he saw a flash of blue.
Iida hadn't stopped. While Kirishima was braking, Iida had looped around. He was already there.
"Forgive me!" Iida shouted.
He was mid-air, spinning with the momentum of a jet engine. His leg came down like an axe.
BAM.
The kick connected cleanly with Kirishima's helmet-hardened hair.
Kirishima didn't have time to brace. The impact sent him tumbling, end over end, straight out of the ring. He crashed onto the grass, bouncing once before coming to a stop.
"KIRISHIMA IS OUT OF BOUNDS! IIDA WINS!"
Iida didn't celebrate. He collapsed onto his knees in the center of the ring, clutching his calves. Smoke poured from his exhausts, and his face twisted in agony.
It hurts, Iida gritted his teeth, his engines stalling out. The impact against Kirishima hard-skin, and my radiators are jammed. The torque tore my muscles.
He looked up at the sky, sweat dripping down his nose.
No, Midoriya-kun... he endures pain ten times worse than this every time he fights. If he can break his bones and keep smiling, I can endure a stalled engine!
Outside the ring, Kirishima sat up. He rubbed his head, his hardening fading away. He looked at Iida, then at the sky, letting out a long breath.
"Damn," Kirishima laughed, though it was tinged with disappointment. "He's fast. I didn't even get to throw a punch."
In the stands, the tension was simmering.
"That was incredible speed," Aokiji noted, leaning back in his chair.
Beside him, Midoriya was mumbling a mile a minute, his pen tearing through the paper of his notebook. "Recipro Burst... forces the RPM over the red line... cooldown period is likely sixty seconds minimum..."
"Seriously, Midoriya," Aokiji sighed, looking at the green-haired boy. "Do you ever run out of ink? Or breath?"
"Ah! I forgot myself again!" Midoriya covered his mouth, blushing.
"It's impressive, though!" Uraraka giggled lightly. She was sitting on Midoriya's other side. Her eyes were puffy, and there was a large bandage on her cheek from the debris of her fight with Bakugo.
Aokiji looked at her. He remembered seeing her in the hallway earlier, sobbing into her phone, apologizing to her parents for losing. Now, she was smiling, cheering on her friends.
"You okay, Uraraka?" Aokiji asked gently.
Uraraka met his gaze. She touched the bandage on her cheek. "Yeah! I'm top shape! Just a few scratches!"
Midoriya looked at her, then looked away. He knew she wasn't okay. He had heard her crying too. But he said nothing, respecting her strength.
"That's good then," Aokiji said, turning back to the arena.
"Hey," Aoyama sparkled from the row behind them. "It is time for Mademoiselle Ashido, non?"
"Yeah," Sero leaned forward, looking worried. "And she's up against Bakugo. After what he did to Uraraka... this is gonna be brutal."
"Another girl vs. Bakugo?" Mineta shuddered. "Seriously? Does the universe hate women?"
Aokiji watched the tunnel entrance. His eyes were calm, devoid of the worry the others showed.
The arena floor was fixed and cleared by cementoss and the staff.
"THE FINAL MATCH OF THE SECOND ROUND!" Present Mic announced. "THE ACID DANCER, MINA ASHIDO! VERSUS! THE EXPLOSION KING, KATSUKI BAKUGO!"
Mina Ashido walked out, stretching her arms. She tried to look confident, but her smile was tight. She had seen Uraraka's fight. She knew the sheer destructive power Bakugo possessed.
Bakugo stomped out of his tunnel. He looked furious. His brow was furrowed so deep it looked painful.
They met in the center.
"Hey, Bakugo!" Ashido said, putting her hands on her hips. "Don't think I'll go down as easy as the others! My acid can melt your—"
"Shut up, Raccoon Eyes," Bakugo growled.
Ashido flinched.
Bakugo took a step forward, his voice low and dangerous. "I'm not like that damn Kuzan. I don't give a crap about chivalry or 'going easy.' If you don't want to get hurt, walk out of bounds right now."
Ashido shivered. The killing intent radiating off him was palpable. But she grit her teeth.
"You need more than scary words to beat me!" she shouted, sliding into a combat stance.
"START!"
Ashido didn't wait. "Acid Shot!"
She flung her hands forward, launching a barrage of corrosive sludge balls toward Bakugo.
Bakugo didn't dodge. He didn't block.
He lunged.
"DIE!"
He blasted the ground behind him, propelling himself forward faster than the acid could travel. He flew through the gap in her attack.
Before Ashido could slide away, Bakugo was in her face.
His palms were open as he directed the explosions.
BOOM.
A massive cloud of black smoke engulfed the ring. The blast wave rattled the teeth of the front row spectators. The acid shots were vaporized instantly.
For a second, there was silence.
Then, a figure flew out of the smoke.
Mina Ashido tumbled through the air like a ragdoll. She fell outside the bounds, rolling three times before coming to a stop. She tried to lift her head, her eyes dazed, looking at the smoking demon in the ring, before her strength gave out and her head dropped back to the turf.
"ASHIDO IS OUT OF BOUNDS! BAKUGO WINS!"
The smoke cleared. Bakugo stood alone in the center of the ring. He lowered his hand.
The stadium was quiet. It was a terrifying display of efficiency. No drama. No back-and-forth. just immediate neutralization.
Bakugo didn't walk away. He looked up at the silence.
"LISTEN UP, YOU BASTARDS!"
Bakugo screamed at the crowd, his voice raw.
"I didn't put on this costume this morning to play house! I came here to be Number One! Put a hero in front of me! Put a villain! Put a boy! Put a girl! Put a bug! I DON'T CARE!"
He raised a fist, sparks flying from his knuckles.
"I will blast them all into dust! If you don't have the will to fight me because of your gender or your feelings, then get the hell out of my ring! U.A. isn't a playground!"
He spun around, his crimson eyes locking onto the student section. He found Aokiji sitting in the crowd. He pointed a shaking finger directly at him.
"AND YOU! ICE SCUM!"
Aokiji blinked behind his sunglasses.
"With that half-assed ambition of yours, you'll never get past the Half-and-Half bastard," Bakugo roared. "But if by some miracle you do... If you stand in the finals against me..."
Bakugo grinned, a terrifying, feral expression.
"I will cage you in this little arena and melt you until there's nothing left but steam! DO YOU HEAR ME?!"
The silence held for a heartbeat. Then, the crowd exploded.
"YEAAAAAH!"
"THAT'S THE SPIRIT!"
"HE'S A MONSTER, BUT HE'S RIGHT!"
"SHOW US WHO'S THE STRONGEST!"
The audience loved it. They loved the hunger. They loved the unapologetic drive for victory.
Aokiji watched Bakugo storm off toward the tunnel. He didn't look scared. He didn't look angry.
He just looked... awake.
"Arara," Aokiji murmured, resting his chin on his hand. "He's loud. But at least he's honest..."