Chapter 32: The Diamond Stage.
The air in the concrete tunnel was cool, smelling faintly of rubber and machine oil.
A long, serpentine line of students stretched back into the shadows. Forty-two teenagers, dressed in the uniformity of the U.A. navy blue tracksuits. But the rhythmic clack-clack-clack that echoed off the walls wasn't from sneakers.
It was steel.
They all wore ice skates. Some wobbled, clutching the walls. Others stood with practiced ease.
Midnight walked down the length of the line, her heels clicking in counter-rhythm to the skates. She checked laces, straightened collars, and offered sharp nods of approval. She reached the very front, where the light from the arena entrance was a blinding white rectangle.
Standing at the head of the formation was Kuzan Aokiji.
He wasn't wearing the standard-issue skates Yaoyorozu had painstakingly created. instead, jagged, translucent ice extended from the soles of his shoes, shaped perfectly into runner blades. He leaned against the tunnel wall, hands deep in his pockets, his eyelids heavy. He looked less like a champion about to be crowned and more like a man waiting for a bus.
"Alright, everyone," Midnight said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that carried down the line. "On my signal."
The Arena.
The afternoon sun was relentless, making the air shimmer after reflecting on the icy ground.
"What's taking so long?" a spectator grumbled, fanning himself with a program.
"The match ended more than 40 minutes ago. My soda is getting warm," another complained.
The murmurs of discontent grew louder, buzzing like a swarm of angry bees. The empty field of ice lay flat and uninspiring under the harsh, flat daylight.
Then, a sound vibrating deep in the chest silenced them.
GRRRRR-RUMBLE.
It came from above.
Thousands of heads tilted upward. The massive steel plates of the stadium roof, usually retracted for open-air combat, were moving. Like the iris of a giant mechanical eye, the dome began to close.
"SORRY FOR THE WAIT, LISTENERS!" Present Mic's voice didn't boom this time; it echoed with a smooth, velvety tone. "BUT WE CAN'T HAVE A WINTER CEREMONY IN THE SUMMER HEAT, CAN WE? PLEASE... DIRECT YOUR ATTENTION TO THE CENTER!"
Clang.
The roof sealed shut.
Total, absolute darkness swallowed the stadium. The sudden shift from blinding sun to pitch black drew a collective gasp from the crowd. For three seconds, there was only the sound of breathing.
SNAP.
A single bank of high-powered spotlights ignited.
They hit the ice.
It wasn't just a frozen puddle anymore. Under the concentrated, artificial light, Aokiji's ice floor exploded into brilliance. It refracted the beams like a prism, scattering blues, whites, and silvers across the dark stands. The scratches from the skates caught the light like diamond dust. The arena had transformed from a battlefield into a glittering, ethereal ballroom.
In the tunnel, the green light flashed.
"Now!" Midnight commanded. "Go!"
They surged forward.
From the darkness of the North Gate, the students of U.A. High spilled onto the ice. They didn't walk; they glided.
The audience roared, the sound deafening in the enclosed space.
At the front, the proficient skaters led the charge. But behind them, the reality of high schoolers on ice played out.
"Whoa, whoa!" Mineta flailed, his legs doing the splits as he slid uncontrollably.
"Ribbit." Tsuyu Asui, skating with surprising stability, extended her long tongue, wrapping it around Mineta's waist and stabilizing him. "I've got you, Mineta-chan."
"You got me?" Mineta replied. "wait.. You mean you love me?! Ohh I love you t--"
"Maybe I will just let you fell." Tsuyu said.
Suddenly, a high-pitched mechanical whine cut through the cheering.
"OUT OF THE WAY! COMING THROUGH!"
PSSSHHH-BOOOM!
From the back of the pack, a blur of pink hair and steampunk goggles rocketed forward. Mei Hatsume didn't skate. She engaged the thrusters on her Cryo-Traversal Boots.
"THIS IS MY TIME TO SHINE!" Hatsume screamed, overtaking Aokiji in a wash of compressed air.
"Hey!" Midnight yelled from the sidelines. "Maintain formation, you support course lunatic!"
Hatsume ignored her. She banked hard, her blades carving a deep gouge in the ice, spraying snow into the air as she completed a full lap around the arena in seconds. She skidded to a halt at her designated spot, posing dramatically for the cameras.
"Did you see that acceleration?!" She yelled to the confused audience. "That was the Turbo-Slide Mark V! Patent pending! Contact Hatsume Industries for licensing!"
Aokiji glided in a few seconds later, moving with a lazy, effortless grace. He slid into position next to Hatsume, bringing his ice blades to a silent stop.
The formation was complete. The students lined the outer rim of the ice, forming a massive, living ring around the center.
In the very middle of the ice stood the victory podium—blocks of tiered concrete designated for 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place. Beside it stood Cementoss, holding a velvet pillow with three heavy medals glinting in the spotlight.
Aokiji, hands still in his pockets, looked sideways at Hatsume. Both of them were facing the center.
"You overdid it," Aokiji murmured. "Midnight is going to have your head."
"Sacrifices must be made, Kuzan-boy," Hatsume whispered back, grinning wildly, her goggles reflecting the arena lights. "That Acid Girl from your class wrecked my gadgets in the second round. I didn't get nearly enough screen time. I had to seize the market share!"
"Scary," Aokiji sighed.
Around the ring, the students caught their breath. The atmosphere was electric.
"Man, this feels like the Olympics or something," Kaminari whispered to Tokoyami. "These skates are actually really balanced."
"Indeed," Tokoyami nodded, crossing his arms. "Yaoyorozu's creation skill is formidable. To outfit an entire battalion in minutes... truly a dark horse."
Further down the line, Kendo from Class B nudged Yaoyorozu. "You've done a good job."
Momo flushed, surprised by the praise from the rival class. "Thank you, Kendo-san. I just... did what was necessary."
"I see, Class A have a lot of interesting students." Tetsutetsu grinned, giving a thumbs up.
The music swelled—a triumphant orchestral piece.
Midnight's voice rang out over the speakers, though she was standing near the entrance tunnel.
"Ladies and Gentlemen! I know what you're thinking! The referee Midnight and why isn't she on the ice?'"
She paused for effect.
"The reason is simple! For a festival of this magnitude, only one man is fit to hand out the medals!"
A hushed silence fell. A spotlight swung wildly, searching the arena. It shot up to the very top of the stadium walls, hundreds of feet in the air.
A silhouette stood there, cape billowing in the artificial wind.
"I AM HERE!"
BOOM.
He jumped.
All Might fell from the ceiling like a meteor. He plummeted toward the ice, the air pressure changing around him. Just before impact, he adjusted his posture.
CRACK.
He landed. Not a crash, but a heavy, controlled impact that sent a spiderweb of cracks through the ice surface, instantly freezing everyone in awe. He stood up slowly, his signature smile blindingly bright under the spotlights.
"TO HAND OUT THE MEDALS!" All Might laughed, his voice booming without a microphone.
"ALL MIGHT! ALL MIGHT! ALL MIGHT!" The crowd lost their minds. The chanting shook the closed roof.
All Might marched over to the podium, taking the medals from Cementoss. He turned to the microphone stand.
"Before we begin," All Might said, his expression sobering slightly. "We must acknowledge a student who fought bravely to reach the semi finals. Tenya Iida. Due to a family emergency, he could not be here. But his spirit runs through this arena!"
The crowd applauded respectfully.
"NOW! Third Place!" All Might turned his gaze to the line of students. "Shoto Todoroki!"
Todoroki pushed off the wall. He skated toward the center, his movements smooth but mechanical. He stopped in front of the Number One Hero.
All Might stepped down, holding the bronze medal. He placed it around Todoroki's neck.
"Young Todoroki," All Might said, his voice low enough for only them to hear. "You showed us something new today. Not just ice, but the fire you've kept hidden. But your face now tells me you are still searching for your answer."
Todoroki looked down at the medal, touching it. "I am. I used my left side... but I don't know if I've accepted it yet. I still have a long way to go to clear the fog."
"And that is why you are strong!" All Might hugged him. "Keep searching! The path is yours to walk!"
Todoroki nodded, skating over to the number 3 platform and stepping up.
"Next! Second Place!" All Might shouted. "Katsuki Bakugo!"
The crowd cheered, though with a bit of trepidation. Bakugo skated forward. He wasn't restrained, but his posture was a loaded gun. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets, his shoulders hunched. He stopped before All Might, scowling.
All Might held out the silver medal. Bakugo stared at it like it was an insult.
"Young Bakugo," All Might said. "You fought ferociously. But today, you hit a wall you couldn't blow up. A wall of ice."
"I don't want that damn thing," Bakugo growled, his voice vibrating with suppressed rage. "I lost. I was frozen solid. There's no value in a silver medal earned by being turned into a popsicle. I have to be the 1st.."
All Might didn't pull back. He stepped forward and forcefully—but gently—placed the medal around Bakugo's neck.
"Then take this not as a reward," All Might said firmly, "but as a reminder. A weight to carry until you are strong enough to turn it into gold. Remember the frustration of being unable to move. Use it!"
Bakugo gritted his teeth, grabbing the medal tightly in his fist. "Just you wait, All Might... I'll surpass him. I'll surpass you. I'll kill everyone."
"That's the spirit! (Sort of!)" All Might laughed, patting his shoulder.
Bakugo skated to the number 2 platform and stomped onto it, refusing to look at the crowd.
"AND FINALLY!"
All Might threw his arms wide. The spotlights converged into a single, blinding beam on the tall boy standing next to Hatsume.
"THE WINNER! THE MAN WHO FROZE THE COMPETITION! KUZAN AOKIJI!"
The roar was unlike anything before. The giant screen above the scoreboard lit up with Aokiji's face.
In the VIP box, behind the glass, Sayuri Kuzan watched. She pressed her hand against the window, a soft, proud smile gracing her lips as she watched her big brother.
Aokiji sighed, scratching his head, and pushed off. The ice beneath his quirk-generated skates made no sound. He glided to the center, stopping before the Symbol of Peace.
He towered over the other students.
He looked calm, unbothered by the millions of eyes on him.
"Young Kuzan!" All Might beamed, holding the heavy gold medal. "Congratulations! You displayed overwhelming power, tactical brilliance, and... surprisingly, a great deal of restraint. You protected the crowd even while unleashing a glacier!"
"It was just a hassle to clean up afterwards," Aokiji shrugged, a small smirk playing on his lips. "I just wanted to get it over with."
All Might laughed heartily. "Humble! But listen, my boy. A quirk of this magnitude... it carries a heavy burden. The world is watching you now. Why do you want to be a hero?"
Aokiji paused. He looked at the gold medal glinting in All Might's hand.
He opened his mouth and was about to make a joke, something to deflect the heavy expectations of the world. "Well, I just think that—"
SCREEEEEECH.
A harsh burst of static tore through the stadium speakers, causing the audience to cover their ears. It wasn't the voice of Present Mic, nor was it Midnight.
"I'm afraid," a smooth, baritone voice echoed across the ice, amplified by a wireless headset, "that he doesn't possess the answer to that question, All Might."
The crowd murmured in confusion. Heads swiveled left and right.
"Who said that?"
"Is this part of the show?"
Then, a spotlight snapped away from the podium, sweeping across the ice until it locked onto the North Entrance tunnel.
A man was walking out.
He wasn't a hero. He wasn't wearing a costume. He wore a charcoal-grey, three-piece suit that cost more than most people's cars. His hair was slicked back, streaked with distinguished grey, and his shoes—polished Italian leather—stepped onto the ice with arrogant stability. He didn't slip. He walked as if the ground itself was afraid to make him fall.
Behind him, a U.A. security robot and a staff member were jogging to catch up.
"Sir! Sir, you cannot be down here!" the guard shouted, reaching for the man's shoulder. "This is a restricted area!"
The man didn't even turn his head. He kept walking, his eyes locked on the podium. The guard hesitated, intimidated by the sheer aura of authority radiating from the intruder, and stopped his pursuit at the edge of the rink.
Midnight stepped forward, her whip coiled, her eyes narrowing behind her mask. "Who is this?"
Up in the VIP box, Sayuri Kuzan stood up so fast her chair tipped over. She pressed both hands against the glass, her face draining of color.
"Father..." she whispered.
On the ice, Aokiji's lazy expression vanished. His eyes grew cold—colder than the quirks he wielded. He watched the man approach, his internal monologue running dry. I didn't think the old man would go this far. He really has no sense of boundaries.
The man tapped the sleek microphone worn around his ear.
"Apologies for the interruption," he said, his voice calm, commanding, and utterly devoid of nervousness despite standing before fifty thousand people. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Sojiro Kuzan. CEO of the Kuzan Corporation... and the father of this festival's champion."
A gasp rippled through the stands. The cameras zoomed in. The resemblance was undeniable—the same sharp jawline, the same tall stature. But where Aokiji looked relaxed, his father looked like a shark in human skin.
All Might straightened up, his smile faltering slightly. He stepped between the students and the man. "Mr. Kuzan. While we appreciate family support, this ceremony is for the students. You are disrupting a school event."
"On the contrary," Sojiro smiled, stopping a few meters away. He looked at All Might not with awe, but with the calculating gaze of an investor appraising a property. "I am simply here to clarify my son's position. You asked him why he wants to be a hero."
Sojiro turned to the cameras, spreading his arms.
"For generations, the Kuzan family has dominated the sectors of logistics, cooling systems, and international trade. We have built the infrastructure of this country. But..." He paused, letting the silence hang. "We lacked a connection to the world of Heroes."
He gestured to Aokiji as if presenting a new product line.
"My son does not need a tragic backstory or a childish dream. He is the bridge. By pushing Aokiji into the Hero world, the Kuzan Clan offers its resources, its efficiency, and its excellence to the protection of society. He is here not because of a dream, but because it is his duty as a Kuzan to succeed in whatever market we enter."
The silence in the arena was different now. It wasn't awe. It was uncomfortable.
Aokiji scratched the back of his neck, looking at his father with bored disdain. "You talk too much, old man. You're boring the audience."
"And you are slouching," Sojiro shot back instantly, his voice sharp. "Stand up straight. You are representing the company."
Todoroki, standing on the third-place podium, felt a chill that had nothing to do with the ice. He stared at Sojiro Kuzan, then shifted his gaze to Aokiji.
'We are alike...'
Aokiji's words from thier previous fight echoed in Todoroki's mind. He looked up at the stands, where he knew his own father, Endeavor, was watching with burning ambition. Then he looked at Aokiji, standing before a father who saw him as a business asset.
I see, Todoroki thought, his fist clenching at his side. You are a tool, too. Just a different kind of tool.
Sojiro walked up to the podium. He looked at All Might and extended a hand.
"I believe, as the parent who raised this champion, it would be fitting for me to place the medal around his neck. A symbol of the family supporting the hero. Don't you agree, All Might?"
It was a trap. If All Might refused, he would look petty in front of the cameras. Sojiro Kuzan had weaponized social etiquette.
All Might hesitated, his blue eyes hardening. But he maintained his smile. "I see.. A father's pride is a powerful thing..!"
He handed the heavy gold medal to Sojiro.
Sojiro took it. He stepped onto the winner's podium, standing toe-to-toe with his son. He didn't smile with warmth. He smiled with ownership.
He raised the medal and placed it around Aokiji's neck.
The crowd cheered, but it was polite applause, lacking the wild energy from earlier. They could sense the tension, even if they didn't understand it.
Sojiro leaned in, grabbing Aokiji's shoulder for a photo op.
Then he brought his mouth close to Aokiji's ear, his voice dropping to a whisper that the microphone didn't pick up.
"I'm waiting in the car. We are going home together. Don't make me wait long."
"Careful, old man," Aokiji whispered back, his voice flat. "Ice is slippery. You might fall, which I actually wish to happen."
"I never fall," Sojiro replied, pulling back and flashing a dazzling, practiced smile for the cameras.
FLASH. FLASH. FLASH.
Hundreds of camera shutters clicked in unison.
High in the press box, a journalist looked at the digital preview on his camera. The image was perfect: The wealthy, powerful industrialist standing proudly next to his tall, gold-medal-wearing son, with All Might beaming in the background.
"Look at this shot," the journalist said to his colleague. "The Tycoon and the Prodigy. The perfect blend of capitalism and heroism. This picture? This is going to trend number one across Japan in ten minutes."
But on the ice, the reality was stark.
Aokiji stood with the gold medal heavy around his neck, looking out at the cheering thousands, feeling utterly alone. He glanced to his left and met Todoroki's eyes.
For a brief second, the two boys shared a look of mutual understanding. Acknowledgment of the chains they couldn't see, but definitely felt.
"Alright!" Midnight's voice broke the tension as she tried to salvage the mood. "Let's hear it one more time for our winners! The U.A. Sports Festival is officially concluded!"
Fireworks exploded above the open roof, filling the sky with color and the students waved and the music swelled.
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