Rei woke in Recovery Girl's office, twelve hours before the final match against Midoriya.
Her body was healed, mostly. Her Quirk was at 30%—enough to function, not enough to overwhelm. Recovery Girl had forbidden her from "exploding herself or anyone else" for at least a week.
"Then I can't fight," Rei said.
"Fight smart," Recovery Girl countered. "Not hard."
Midoriya entered, bandaged but mobile. He'd defeated Todoroki in the other semifinal—apparently, the ice-fire hero had woken up and immediately demanded a rematch, which Midoriya had won through sheer stubbornness.
"How are you?" he asked, sitting by her bed.
"Empty. You?"
"Full." He smiled, but it was strained. "Rei, about the final match—"
"Don't you dare suggest I forfeit."
"I wasn't going to." He took her hand. "I was going to suggest we make a promise. Whoever wins... it doesn't change anything. Between us. We're still partners. Still... whatever we are."
"Terrified," Rei supplied. "In love. Figuring it out."
"Yeah." He laughed. "That."
"Promise," she agreed. "But I'm still going to win."
"We'll see."
The final match was held at night, under stadium lights, with the entire nation watching.
Rei entered the arena knowing she was at a disadvantage. Her Quirk was depleted, her body still recovering. Midoriya was at full strength, One For All humming in his veins, strategy already forming behind his eyes.
But she had something he didn't.
She had nothing left to lose.
The match began.
Midoriya didn't attack immediately. He circled, analyzing, waiting for her to make the first move.
Rei stood still. Let her Quirk expand, feeling the arena—the air currents, the vibrations of the crowd, the very spin of the earth beneath them.
"You're not moving," Midoriya called.
"Neither are you."
"I learned from our first fight. If I attack, you nullify. If I wait, you overflow." He smiled. "So I'm waiting for you to choose."
Rei felt her heart stutter. He knew her. Knew her patterns, her fears, her desperate need for control.
Then be unpredictable , she told herself.
She moved. Not toward him—toward the edge of the arena. Touched the wall, felt the kinetic energy of the stadium itself, thousands of people shifting, breathing, living .
And she borrowed it.
Just a fraction. A whisper of motion from every person in range. It flooded into her, not enough to hurt them, barely enough to notice, but combined—
Her Quirk hit 100%. Then 110%. She was overflowing, burning, radiant with stolen kinetic energy.
"Rei?" Midoriya's voice was worried. "What did you do?"
"Trusted them," she said. "The crowd. The world. I don't have to do this alone."
She attacked.
Not with nullification—with creation . She shaped the kinetic energy into vectors, forces, pressures that didn't exist in nature. She made gravity sideways, made air solid, made the very concept of motion into a weapon.
Midoriya met her with One For All.
They collided like stars. Green lightning against white radiance, sound and fury and impossible force. The arena shattered around them. The crowd screamed, not in fear, but in awe.
Rei felt her body breaking. She didn't care. For the first time, she wasn't controlling her Quirk—she was riding it, surfing the wave of her own power, trusting that Midoriya would catch her when she fell.
He did. Again and again. He took her strikes, absorbed her energy, redirected it into the ground, the air, his own body. He was burning too, One For All pushed beyond limits, bones cracking and healing and cracking again.
"Why?" she screamed, attacking. "Why won't you fall?"
"Because you're worth standing for!" he shouted back, catching her fist, holding it. "Because I promised! Always!"
They were close now, chest to chest, Quirks warping the air between them into visible distortion.
"Then catch this," Rei whispered, and released everything.
Not at him. Through him.
She poured her overflow into his body, trusted his durability, his strength, his impossible heart. One For All drank it in, grew, evolved , green lightning turning white-gold with the influx of pure kinetic potential.
Midoriya's eyes widened. "Rei, I can't control—"
"Don't control," she said. "Choose."
He chose.
The final strike wasn't a punch. It was a release —all of Rei's stored energy, all of One For All's accumulated power, shaped by Midoriya's will into a shockwave of pure, protective force.
It knocked Rei unconscious instantly. It knocked Midoriya down beside her. It knocked the roof off the stadium and set off weather satellites across the Pacific.
When they woke, they were holding hands, lying in the crater of their own making, and Present Mic was screaming that the match was a draw.
"Good," Rei mumbled.
"Very good," Midoriya agreed.
They were both disqualified for excessive destruction. Bakugo won by default.
Neither of them cared.