Chapter 20: Voltage, Acid, and a Glimpse of Vulnerability
The atmosphere in the stadium had shifted. The lingering dampness from the melted ice of the previous matches had evaporated, replaced by a dry, static-charged heaviness that made the hair on one's arms stand on end. The air tasted metallic—the sharp, unmistakable scent of ozone.
Kirishima and Kaminari walked to the center of the ring. The tension was thick, but there was no animosity between them, only the grin of competitive friendship.
"I gotta warn you, Kirishima," Kaminari said, rolling his shoulders as sparks danced visibly along his fingertips. "I'm not planning on dragging this out. I'm going to discharge everything I have right from the start."
Kirishima smashed his fists together, the sound like two stones colliding. His skin began to roughen, turning jagged and hard. "That's exactly what I want! If I can't take your best shot, then I'm not manly enough to be here! Hit me with everything you've got!"
"START!"
The moment the command left Midnight's lips, Kaminari didn't hesitate. He planted his feet, threw his head back, and let go of every limiter in his body.
"INDISCRIMINATE SHOCK... 1.3 MILLION VOLTS!"
It wasn't just a spark; it was an eruption.
A blinding sphere of jagged, yellow electricity exploded outward from Kaminari. The light was searing, washing out the colors of the stadium and turning the world into a high-contrast nightmare of white and gold. The sound was a deafening, continuous CRACKLE that screamed like a tearing sky.
In the stands, students shielded their eyes. The sheer luminosity was painful.
"Whoa!" Midoriya gasped, throwing an arm over his face. "The intensity is blinding!"
Sitting beside him, Aokiji peered over the rim of his amber sunglasses. In the reflection of his dark lenses, the arena was a storm of plasma. The yellow light danced in his pupils, mirroring the chaos below.
Down in the ring, Kirishima was the epicenter of the storm. He had gone full 'Unbreakable' mode instantly. His skin was no longer flesh; it was a rugged, crimson rock. But against this level of voltage, even rock suffered.
The electricity arced over his hardened skin, searching for a way in. Kirishima's spiky red hair stood up even straighter, vibrating with the current. Deep, spiderweb fissures began to crack open across his hardened arms and chest, glowing bright yellow from the energy forcing its way through. Smoke poured off his shoulders.
"That's... intense," Aokiji muttered, his voice barely audible over the roar of the thunder. He watched the scene with a rare look of serious evaluation. "That's not just a shock; that's a raw discharge of nature. Even with my physiology... I'm not sure I'd survive that if I took it directly. Electricity disrupts atomic bonds. It's a nasty way to go."
The onslaught lasted for ten agonizing seconds. Then, as quickly as it had begun, the lightning vanished.
Silence rushed back into the stadium, accompanied by thick gray smoke rising from the center of the ring.
Kaminari stood there, steam rising from his jacket. His eyes were glazed over, his thumbs up in a double gesture of victory that looked more like a reflex. His brain had short-circuited completely.
"Wheeeey..." Kaminari drooled, stumbling in a circle, completely unaware of his surroundings.
Opposite him, Kirishima was a statue.
His hardening had deactivated. His skin was back to its normal color, but it was raw and red. The cracks that had formed during the hardening remained as thin, weeping cuts across his arms and face. His hair was a frizzy, charred mess. His eyes were rolled back into his head, showing only the whites.
He swayed. Left. Right.
"KIRISHIMA TOOK THE WHOLE THING!" Present Mic shouted, gripping the desk. "BUT IS HE CONSCIOUS?! HE LOOKS OUT ON HIS FEET! EVERYONE IS WAITING FOR THE FALL!"
Kirishima teetered forward, looking like he was about to face-plant into the concrete. The crowd held its breath.
Then, his foot moved.
It was a clumsy, heavy step. Then another. With the coordination of a zombie, Kirishima shuffled toward the wandering Kaminari. His breath hitched in his throat, a ragged wheeze.
"Not... down... yet..." Kirishima mumbled, the words slurring.
He reached Kaminari. He pulled back his fist—a movement that seemed to take an eternity—and delivered a punch.
It wasn't a smash. It was barely a tap. A weak, wobbly hook to the jaw.
But against a brain-dead Kaminari, it was enough. Kaminari spun once and crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
Kirishima stood over him for one second. Two seconds.
"KAMINARI IS DOWN! KIRISHIMA WINS!" Midnight announced, waving her fan.
As if the announcement cut his strings, Kirishima fell backward, hitting the concrete with a thud. He didn't move, but a faint smile remained on his face as the crowd erupted into wild applause for the sheer grit he had displayed.
The medical bots carted the two boys away—one twitching from aftershocks, the other drooling.
"ALRIGHT! LET'S KEEP THE ENERGY HIGH!" Present Mic yelled. "NEXT UP! THE ALIEN QUEEN, MINA ASHIDO! VERSUS! THE SUPPORT COURSE GENIUS, MEI HATSUME!"
Ashido bounded onto the stage, stretching her arms. She looked ready to fight.
Hatsume, however, walked out wearing a backpack that looked like a jet engine and boots that were visibly vibrating. She was holding a microphone connected to her own suit.
"START!"
Ashido charged. "Here I go!"
"WAIT!" Hatsume yelled, amplifying her voice through her speakers. "Before you attack, observe the sleek aerodynamic design of my Hover-Soles Mark V!"
Hatsume activated her boots, hovering five feet in the air and drifting effortlessly out of Ashido's reach.
"Hey! Come down here!" Ashido yelled, throwing a glob of acid.
Hatsume activated a grappling hook from her waist. "And look at this! The Auto-Balancer waist attachment allows for perfect dodging while keeping the user's hands free for business calls!"
For the next five minutes, the match wasn't a fight. It was an infomercial. Hatsume used Ashido as a prop to demonstrate durability, speed, and evasion, talking directly to the cameras the entire time.
Ashido was getting frustrated. Her pink skin flushed a darker shade of red.
"I am not a test dummy!" Ashido screamed. "Fight me for real!"
"Just one more demo!" Hatsume grinned, pulling out a net gun. "The Capture-Net 3000!"
Ashido snapped.
"That's it!"
She placed her hands on the ground. Instead of a small shot, she released a massive, rushing wave of corrosive acid.
"Acid Veil!"
The liquid surged forward, coating the ground and splashing onto Hatsume's beloved Hover-Soles.
HISSSSSSS.
The metal of the boots began to bubble. The intricate gears seized up. Smoke rose from the soles as the acid ate through the casing.
"MY BABIES!" Hatsume shrieked, horrorstruck. She dropped to her knees, frantically trying to wipe the acid off. "You're melting them! The suspension system! The hydraulics! Noooo!"
"Marketing time is over!" Ashido yelled.
With the ground coated in her own slime, Ashido didn't run; she skated. She slid across the acid with graceful speed, closing the distance while Hatsume was mourning her gadgets.
Ashido slid right up to the kneeling inventor and delivered a sharp, clean uppercut to her chin.
Pow.
Hatsume flopped backward, dazed, mumbling about warranty voiding.
"HATSUME IS OUT! ASHIDO WINS!"
Ashido pumped her fist in the air, beaming. "Yeah! Don't ignore me!"
From the stands, Aokiji watched the acid bubbling on the remains of the support gear. The metal was twisted and unrecognizable.
He frowned slightly, resting his chin on his palm.
"Acid..." Aokiji thought, watching the smoke rise. "It's nasty stuff. It doesn't just burn; it dissolves. If that hit me, I couldn't just shatter and reform. The chemical reaction would eat through the ice, and then through me. Heat, electricity, and now acid. There are a lot of people in this grade who could turn me into a puddle if I'm not careful."
"AND NOW!"
Present Mic's voice took on a different tone. The excitement was there, but beneath it was a layer of serious tension.
"THE FINAL MATCH OF THE FIRST ROUND! THIS ONE HAS THE INTERNET ARGUING ALREADY! THE ZERO GRAVITY GIRL, OCHACO URARAKA! VERSUS! THE EXPLOSION MONSTER, KATSUKI BAKUGO!"
The screen displayed their faces. Uraraka looked determined but terrified. Bakugo looked like he wanted to murder the camera.
Aokiji sat up straight, pulling his sunglasses down slightly to get a better look.
"This one," Aokiji said to Midoriya, who was sweating nervously beside him. "This one is going to be hard to watch."