Upon escaping the sounds of the arena, and after exchanging one of the most awkward and embarrassing goodbyes they had ever given to another human being, Kirishima and Akiko went their separate ways. Kirishima had explained that, on account of his being completely caked in dirt and rock in the aftermath of their fight, he wanted to clean himself up, and Akiko wasn't about to deny him that opportunity after having been the one that had flung him into the ground to begin with. Besides, she had her own needs that demanded her full focus anyway. Particularly, those needs consisted of addressing the soreness in her chest from the exertion of her Quirk and the residual pain in her stomach from Kirishima's gut-punch.
A visit to Recovery Girl's office alleviated both issues in somewhat short order. She was unsurprised to hear U.A.'s resident healer advise her to exercise caution when using her Quirk in the future, since injuries incurred by self-harm appeared to be something of a sore spot with Recovery Girl, but she was slightly flustered when she was told her to expose her stomach to the experienced nurse. Seeing her injury in detail only renewed Akiko's shock. There was a large, darkening bruise, and cuts from where the edges of Kirishima's hardened knuckles had struck her abdomen – meanwhile, the worst she had thought she would've incurred from the attack would've been a rather minor bruise.
When the cursory inspection of the damage was completed, Recovery Girl administered a smaller dosage of her Quirk without Akiko even needing to specify. Years of dangerous tests and Sports Festivals had taught her well not to heal her patients so thoroughly as to impair their performance through the fatigue her Quirk could bring them, but with her bruising and cuts gone, all Akiko had to deal with now was the occasional phantom pain. She'd be prepared for her next match, whenever that would be.
It also helped that she had time to overcome the dregs of mortification Midnight's casual comment about 'youthful sportsmanship' had left behind. Akiko liked to think she understood her own sexuality well, and she also knew she wasn't someone who would ever be eager to speak about what she found attractive or alluring; meanwhile, Midnight had spoken with utter confidence when she proclaimed her students' sportsmanship was a turn-on for her. Akiko found the idea of discussing intimacy with anyone, even Jomei, a flustering prospect, while Midnight had revealed a rather deep facet of herself with ease to an audience of millions.
Akiko didn't even want to consider why an adult woman thought teenagers expressing basic human decency toward each other was something that attractive.
Instead, she tried to focus her thoughts on the happiness she felt from her recent victory. She hadn't made an enemy, had made it through to the quarterfinals, and learned that she could stay determined on her own as well as rely on her preexisting support network without shame. All in all, even if she only considered the events contained within the final stage of the festival, it had already been a tremendously positive day for her self-confidence.
Amid her contentment and calm mental landscape, she didn't realize she was emerging back into 1-A's reserved booth until she saw, or rather, felt, a familiar figure jump out of the seats below.
Her entire body jolted and she was scooped into a surprise hug, but the shock quickly faded back into a safe and peaceful warmth as she realized whose arms were around her.
"You did amazing down there, Akiko!" Jomei said, his smile audible even in his voice.
Akiko giggled nervously. Evidently, Jomei leaping from his seat to assail his girlfriend with praise had not gone unnoticed. "Uh… J-Jomei? Do you think you could let me go? I think everyone's watching…"
"Okay, yeah, good point." He set her down gently, but his hands moved to her shoulders. "Still! You should've seen the look on everyone's faces when you won! After that one punch, we thought it was all over, but you turned it around at the last second! It was incredible!"
Warmth returned to her cheeks, and Akiko touched the tips of her fingers together as she looked slightly downward. "I appreciate the compliment, Jomei, but I think you're flattering me a little bit here. I won, but I don't think it was something anyone else here wouldn't be able to do in my situation."
Denki turned to kneel on his seat and face them. "I don't know about that, Akiko. That split-second plan you came up with was really smart, and I don't think I would've come up with it in time. Honestly, it felt like I was watching a pro for a second there."
"Yeah, Denki's right," Kyoka agreed, hanging one arm around the back of her seat to look at her. "I think I can speak for all the girls here when I say we were really freaked out when we saw you take that hit from Kirishima – we thought you'd be a goner, but you just got back up and won anyway. That takes guts."
"And I'd know a thing or two about guts!" Kirishima commented. All eyes turned to him as he emerged into the booth and started toward his seat, a wet towel around his neck. "If you don't wanna take a compliment from them, then take it from me, Takara – you were the manliest fighter down there when we were duking it out, and I'm not just saying it to be cool. I wouldn't be much of a man if I lied to someone's face, now would I?"
Kirishima sat down, and Jomei looked at her again. "Now do you think I'm just flattering you?"
"No…" Akiko said in mock-defeat, a content smirk tugging on the corner of her lip. "Thanks, Jomei."
"No reason to thank me," Jomei said. Behind him, Denki started to slide from his chair and onto his feet. "What you did down there was all you – I'm only making sure you keep remembering how great you are. Root for me during my match?"
She nodded. "Of course, but don't you want me to walk you down to the arena?"
Denki tapped him on the shoulder as he continued up the stairs, and Jomei's arms dropped from Akiko's shoulders. "Nah, I figured I'd let you just relax after what happened during your fight."
"Oh, well… good luck!" Akiko called after him.
Jomei stopped a few steps from the exit to throw a thumbs-up back at her. "With you cheering me on? I don't need luck to win this thing!"
"Uhuh... we'll see about that, rave guy," Denki taunted.
"Well we're gonna find out real soon now, aren't we?" Jomei contested, and the two of them set off in tandem into the hallways of the stadium, grinning all the while.
Akiko looked fondly at the space where Jomei had been for a few moments after he left before continuing down to her seat, her hands hovering close over her chest to obscure the magenta color of her crystal core. She knew the look on her face probably easily betrayed the love and admiration she felt, but amidst such positive emotions, she couldn't find it in her to feel all that concerned about the possibility of others quickly picking up on her present mindset.
It occurred to her as she sat down, though, that perhaps she should be more concerned about her obvious feelings for Jomei, on account of a certain individual who had probably been watching her like a hawk since she had returned.
The certain individual who then crashed like a freight train into the empty seat on her right.
"Sooooooo…" Ashido drawled. "I'm guessing your first date went as super-duper well as I'm thinking it went, because what I saw right there was cuteness of the highest level! Come on, come on, you can't tell me that you don't see how adorable you two are, and that I totally saw this cuteness coming back when you told me you guys were going on a date! So spill the beans – anything exciting happen yet…?"
Akiko felt her blush only intensify, much to her chagrin. "I mean… our first date went really well, but I don't think I have anything really 'exciting' to say about us. We went out, did what we wanted to do before we started wandering around, and the night ended in a really sweet way, but we haven't had enough time to do much more after that. We've both been busy preparing for the Sports Festival since then."
Ashido blinked twice in confusion. "Really? That's all you're going to share?! Come on, tell me about the date – what's the really sweet thing that you mentioned happened right at the end of the night? Something super cute must have gone down for you to be all lovey-dovey like you are about Nishimura right now!"
"Uh, Ashido?" Kirishima interjected. "Maybe lay off the interrogation, for now. I'm pretty sure Takara's got other things to think about without someone trying to get her to fess up about her date in the middle of the festival. Besides, you still have your fight coming up, right? It'd probably be a good idea if you stayed in the zone before you have to head down there, too."
Ashido groaned, slouching deeply into her seat.
"So I'm guessing that means you're gonna lay off now, huh?" Kirishima asked.
"Yeah, yeah…" She tilted her head to Akiko, the mischievous wink she aimed at her hidden from Kirishima through her fluffy hair. "I'm not done yet, though… I will hear all the juicy details of that date someday…"
Somehow, the absurdity of the contrast between Ashido's defeated posture and her confident, conspiratorial whisper set Akiko at ease, and she contented herself to let the conversation rest, if only for a little while. Perhaps at another time, she'd be more willing to indulge Ashido in her whimsical desires, but for now, other, more pressing matters demanded her awareness.
Namely, Kyoka, who had her arms crossed and her expression so utterly neutral throughout the entire exchange that Akiko was convinced her friend had somehow managed to ignore it entirely.
"So, I think it's pretty safe to assume you're gonna want Jomei to win, right?" she asked.
Akiko nodded. "Yeah. But who do you think you're going to be rooting for?"
"Denki," Kyoka said easily. "Someone's gotta root for that jerk, and it's not like he doesn't stand a chance of winning. I'm not gonna lie and say Jomei's Quirk isn't pretty metal, but Denki's isn't bad either when it comes to firepower. Unless you're built like a truck or have some kind of crazy endurance Quirk, one good hit is all he's gonna need to win a one-on-one fight."
"I wonder who I should root for…" Ashido wondered, her eyes focused blankly on the sky. She gasped and pushed herself upright before she shouted down a few rows. "Hey, Midoriya! What do you think about this match-up? Who's gonna win?"
Midoriya jumped in his seat, but got over the initial shock quickly and started flipping through his notebook in search of an answer. "Uh, well, it probably all depends on who gets the first hit in. I saw Kaminari destroying faux villains back during the obstacle race, so he obviously has enough control over his Quirk to gauge how much power he needs to put into his attacks. As for Nishimura, even though I haven't seen much of what he's been able to do after the battle trials, I'm sure that even getting hit by one of his smaller beam attacks would be pretty devastating to an opponent who doesn't have too much defense. It's hard to tell who has a higher chance of winning based on their skills with their Quirks alone."
"Don't forget that offense isn't everything, though," Uraraka helpfully added. "Even if the stage isn't all that big compared to a building or any of the battlegrounds, mobility can be really important too, since it lets you reposition or dodge your opponent's moves. If we start to think about that too, then I think Nishimura might win this. Kaminari might have pretty good reaction times when it comes to dodging, but so does Nishimura, and his Quirk lets him move super quick when he wants to – way faster than Kaminari can, anyway. Come to think of it, Nishimura's Quirk looks like it can do a lot more than Kaminari's almost all the time, right?"
Midoriya nodded vigorously. "Exactly, Uraraka! I was going to point that out too! Not just the mobility, but the difference in applications their Quirks have in a fight. From what we've seen, all Kaminari's lets him do is shoot out electricity from his body with a distinct limit to its power output before he hits a big drawback from using it too much. Meanwhile, Nishimura's shown that he's able to produce variably powerful beams of gas, sometimes even sending them out in bursts, without too much effort alongside being able to augment his movement with his 'Light Speed' technique. Even if we assume that Kaminari's Quirk has more facets to it than we know of right now, we'd have to be fair and give Nishimura the same benefit of the doubt, and he's already displayed how creative he is when it comes to using his power."
"So… who does that mean you think will win, again?" Ashido asked, apparently thoroughly confused by their analysis.
Midoriya and Uraraka answered at the same time. "Nishimura!"
The pair shared a look, and the mutual surprise at the shared mindset was plain to see, as was the sudden blush that stained their cheeks. Uraraka's pink cheeks seemed to encompass her entire face and she hastily turned away, while Midoriya instead focused his gaze exclusively upon his notebook while awkwardly scratching the back of his head.
Thankfully, Yaoyorozu throwing in a contribution to the conversation saved the pair from the additional fluster of Ashido catching on would bring them. "I will say that I agree with Midoriya and Uraraka's assessment of the situation, but we mustn't count Kaminari out yet. As some of you may recall, both myself and Jiro were able to see the full extent of his abilities upon being dropped in the same zone as him during the USJ incident. His Quirk may lack flexibility, yes, but he's a far cry from a slouch in terms of reaction time or improvisational combat skill, and should Nishimura not remain wary of his opponent's abilities, no amount of technique will save him from a wide-range discharge of Kaminari's Electrification."
Ashido ruffled through her hair with a growl. "Oh, come on! I was so ready to start rooting for Nishimura but then you go ahead and drop that info-bomb on us! That's it, I hereby declare that I won't be rooting for either of them! I, Ashido Mina, will be a fair and just fangirl of both of them!"
Kirishima sighed. "I think that still counts as rooting for them, but… yeah. I guess that works."
With the collective party's conversation seemingly at an end, Akiko turned her gaze to the field below, where she anticipated Jomei would emerge shortly. Denki may have been her friend, and she truly did wish that only the best would befall him no matter the outcome of his performance in the festival, but she couldn't find it in her to wish for his triumph over her closest friend and confidant. To Denki, the festival indeed served as a great scouting opportunity, but she knew abundantly well how important the event was to Jomei, as well. He didn't just need to perform well here to get noticed solely by pros – no, he needed to grab and captivate the attention of as many spectators as he could, here and now. It wasn't every day that he had the chance to let the world know of his existence on the greatest stage Japan's sports industry had to offer, and Akiko understood better than anyone that he wanted to make the most of every single opportunity he could get to hear the world scream his name.
For his sake, and for all the things he had done for her in the past, Akiko could only find herself thinking one thing.
'You can do it, Jomei.'
He knew he could do it, too.
There wasn't a doubt in his mind. He and Denki had come to the mutual conclusion earlier that they wouldn't much mind who won or lost, but that didn't change how confident Jomei was in his abilities. Underestimating his opponent wouldn't be a trap he'd let himself fall into, but between his beams, Light Speed, and his ace-in-the-hole technique that he still hadn't used, he was fairly sure he'd be able to overcome whatever desperate moves Denki would inevitably pull out. As he went through some last-minute stretches at the exit to the arena, not a single thought was one considering the possibility of a negative outcome for him.
Jomei had a sneaking suspicion as to why this was, too. Throughout the past few weeks, he had been able to accomplish several things that the Jomei of even a month ago would've either thought impossible or never even considered.
He'd been able to finally confess his feelings for and, subsequently, begin dating his best friend without anything remotely resembling a hitch.
He was blessed with the chance to watch her grow more confident with each and every day, to the point where he was able to witness her winning her first fight in the final stage of the festival, even with tens of thousands of spectators surrounding her.
He'd made and maintained his fledgling friendship with Denki despite the brief bump of a misunderstanding it had experienced at the Mineta's wretched hands.
And, perhaps most importantly, he'd finally attained the opportunity to fight for the undivided attention of the entire population of Japan. It might not last more than a few dozen minutes, but for that short time, he'd be completely and utterly in the limelight. He'd stand as one of the only two aspiring heroes on that stage that'd be fighting tooth and nail for the fame thousands upon millions of people could only ever dream of achieving.
It made him feel alive. More than alive, even – it made him feel euphoric, like there wasn't any force on heaven or earth that could even hope to slow him down now.
"Now, let's not let this hot streak cool! Time to move on and get this sixth match started!"
Grand braziers flickered back to life and poured their flame into the sky at Present Mic's unspoken command, and Jomei started toward the stage.
"Up first, we have the boy with the electric personality and a lightning-shaped highlight in his hair that he swears isn't totally fake! He's a hero-in-the-making – Kaminari Denki!"
Untamed enthusiasm followed Denki's introduction, but his eyes remained focused determinedly on Jomei when their mutual ascent up the stage's steps was completed. His hand laid still at his side, but electricity arced around his palm, eager for release.
"Oh, but don't forget, he's up against the walking, talking definition of legendarily cool Quirks! He's the kid who could liven up any party with some neon lights, and with no electric bill to boot – he's Nishimura Jomei!"
Diverting his attention from Denki for a moment, Jomei made a show of bringing his hands up before him and letting a small fountain of purple and blue gases pour from them, as if his Quirk were a fountain of potential energy simply yearning for release. Jomei then let his arms fall to his sides, though his palms remained face-out and ready for action at a moment's notice.
"You still sure you can beat me, Denki? It's not too late to drop out – or are you in the mood to get a bruise or two today?" he half-heartedly threatened.
"If all you're worried about is giving me a few bruises, then I guess I've got nothing to worry about!" he playfully returned, and raised his fists. "It's gonna take a whole hell of a lot more than a bruise or two to take me out, and that's if you can hit me."
"Is that a challenge?" Jomei asked.
Denki smirked. "Maybe."
"Then I guess I'll have to be the first person to wish you luck, Denki. After all, I haven't been practicing with a ranged Quirk like mine for so long just to miss my target. Even if you think you can dodge, you've still got to land a hit on me in the first place if you want to win this thing."
"Eh, I know that, but hey – you never know how you're gonna do if you don't try. Gotta give it your all to hit it big, am I right?"
A quick chuckle rumbled from Jomei's throat, and he rolled his shoulders. "Don't we both know it. Good luck, man. Really."
"Same to you," Denki nodded.
"Hey now, looks like we had some fightin' words being thrown around down there for a second! I won't hold back the brawl any longer then! Sixth match – start!"
Jomei snapped his hand forward in an underhanded sweep, and a salvo of six Neon Beams spat out in a flurry of angles from his palm.
Undeterred, Denki's expression hardened, and he sprung into action. The first two beams he bent backward to avoid, only to let his weight continue to carry him further back. His palms hit the pavement and he pushed himself into a backflip, and the second set of beams sailed harmlessly beneath where the movement had begun. He then landed firmly on his feet and needed only to swiftly lean to the side to avoid the final two beams.
And he did it all without breaking a sweat.
Denki tilted his head. "That it?"
Gas gathered ominously around Jomei's palm. "Heh. That was just a warm-up."
Jomei sent another swift barrage of attacks, the array of angles now wider and more misleading than its predecessor, but they all zeroed in precisely on their target in time.
Denki dodged those too, the danger of some of his last-second escapes from some of the strikes not seeming to phase him.
A third set was sent straight ahead in hot pursuit of the second, and that rampant rush of beams too failed to connect. After maneuvering through the flurry of the second, Denki immediately ducked beneath the third and launched himself toward his opponent.
Nevertheless, Jomei decided he'd hold his ground, for the time being. He could aim and fire off Neon Beams even while using Light Speed, but that didn't mean he needed to pull out his extra maneuverability yet. Instead, he continued to pepper his beams in Denki's direction, partly to gain a better understanding of just how effective his reaction time was, and partly to provide himself the time to debate if he should pull out all the stops here and now.
Flashbang was still available as his trump card, hidden and unknown to all but two others in Class 1-A, but he quickly concluded that he'd only pull it out if the time came that he was in desperate need of it. If all went well, he'd have three more fights ahead of him in the festival, and putting it on display now would be asking for trouble.
Denki rolled out of the way of a bright blue Neon Beam, his confident gaze still focused firmly on Jomei despite his exertion. "That all you got? Here I thought you were supposed to have good aim – don't tell me you're holding back, because I'm not gonna be nice enough to do that too!"
"Not at all!" Jomei shot another Neon Beam at Denki's feet to slow him down and aim the next burst of attacks. "I'm just seeing how much it'll take for you to finally slip up."
"Well get serious!" Denki shouted after springing up from an evasive roll to the side. "I'm not too happy about being target practice for you, so don't expect any mercy when I cut loose!"
"Funny," Jomei said, and the beginnings of his Quirk's all-too-familiar shroud started to coalesce from beneath his jacket. "I was about to say the same thing."
He kicked himself into motion, and Light Speed flared over his body as he ran in a complete and utter dead charge forward.
Jomei knew he couldn't wait any longer. He couldn't keep standing still in hopes that he'd eventually land a shot and be able to follow up with a few more to blast Denki out of the ring. To an outside observer, all he'd done thus far was talk big and miss with his flashy Quirk. Given his goal for the festival was to stand out, this in of itself was a mistake he had to rectify in the greatest magnitude possible. What's more, through his opening assault, he'd learned of another, potentially disastrous, mistake he'd been making the whole time.
Even with bursts of bright beams blasting by, Denki had been getting closer. Between each barrage, it hadn't been much progress, but Jomei knew his opponent was more than talented enough to recognize and form a plan related to that ever-shrinking gap. Given how well Jomei understood his comrade's capacity for strategy, it didn't take him long to discern what exactly that strategy may turn out to be.
An Indiscriminate Shock.
It was all Denki could do in this situation. He couldn't outmaneuver or overpower Jomei from a distance, so a widespread area-of-effect attack such as his one and only super-powered technique would be his best option. It would leave no place for Jomei to hide amidst its tremendous range of influence, and one stray arc directly hitting him would be all it'd take for Denki to disable any advantages Jomei's Quirk had provided him.
Which was why Jomei had started on a collision course with Denki. If he couldn't stop his opponent's progress and the inevitable usage of his most powerful move, then he might as well bait it out and get him to use it sooner rather than later. Then he'd be able to focus solely on what it'd take him to dodge the move and counterattack in such a way that he'd win the match.
It'd be a costly maneuver, but the USJ incident had taught him well not to hesitate.
"I've gotta say, you've got guts, Jomei… but whatever you're planning on doing isn't gonna work on me!" Denki shouted confidently, electricity sparking freely from his limbs, and he raised his arms high above his head. "You've run right into my hands now – Indiscriminate Shock 1,300,000 Volts!"
Thunder boomed from the rolling tide of lightning he unleashed. The wave of electricity grew rapidly, and its not-inconsiderable height would swiftly and mercilessly threaten Jomei no matter where he remained on the ground.
Which left him the option he'd already accounted for.
Without so much as slowing down a hair, he jumped skyward with all his might. Light Speed and twin jets of gas from his palms propelled him up, higher than the Indiscriminate Shock, for all its exponential growth below, could reach. Jomei couldn't stay airborne for long with his Quirk, but a few seconds would be all he needed to outlast Denki's discharge.
"Ohhh… shit," Denki cursed, his expression suddenly snapping to stupidity as he hit his limit.
The attack abated, and Jomei wasted no time before he let himself fall back to earth. He rolled to spread out the impact and rose to his feet without his Quirk fading, and his confident smirk stood out even amidst his incandescent cloak.
Denki staggered around to look at him. "Whuh?"
Jomei raised his palms directly at his foe. "Sorry, Denki. Good fight, but this one goes to me."
His eyes widened, some vestige of his conscious mind perhaps screaming to warn his stupefied self of what was coming, but it was to no avail. He started scrambling to the side a moment too late for it to matter.
"Neon Beam."
One beam staggered Denki.
Two sent him sliding away on his back.
Three more expedited his journey by knocking him into the air.
The final beam sent him flying into the field below, and Jomei flinched when he saw how lazily his friend wound up rolling through the dirt.
"Kaminari is out of bounds!" Midnight said. "Nishimura advances on!"
Cheers and widespread accolades came from the crowd, and Jomei paused to let it all sink in. He didn't quite see the win as his most amazing performance ever, but it had garnered enough notice from those in the stands that he heard his name called out to him not an inconsiderable number of times. His heart was racing and his arms fizzed from the strain of avoiding Denki's discharge, but he relished in the feeling of thousands of eyes all focused solely on him right now.
And if all went well in his future fights, it'd be a feeling he could get very used to.
He looked in Denki's direction then, where his friend had already stumbled to his feet. Aware of how his sense of direction was ruined in his senseless state, Jomei started toward him at the same time Denki raised a thumbs up in his vague direction to let him know he was alright. Jomei was tempted to smile at the gesture, even if it was mostly an automatic response to others Denki would give when he went overboard, but he had to lurch forward to catch him when his head tilted back too far and he nearly fell backward.
Loss of sense of balance – yet another side-effect Denki suffered when he discharged too much with his Quirk.
"Whey?" Denki emptily asked.
"Yeah, yeah. I've got you, Denki," he said, his arm looped underneath his friend's shoulder to prop him up. He then twisted himself around to face Midnight. "Hey, Midnight? Is it okay if I escort him back to the booth? He'd probably be more likely to get lost or run into a wall if we left him to get back on his own."
"Whuh?"
"You're right," Jomei agreed. "He'd get lost and run into a wall if we left him alone."
"But of course!" Midnight answered, a salacious hint in her tone. "Just be sure to take good care of him for me on your way out, hm?"
Later that day, Jomei would count himself as lucky to have hidden his embarrassed expression as well as he did on the way out.
Upon his return to Class 1-A with Denki in tow, the first thing Jomei noticed was that Iida was missing. Considering how much of a stickler Iida was for proper conduct and that his match was the next one, though, Jomei wasn't particularly surprised. For all he knew, Iida would be in the waiting room for contestants right now, sitting in that stiff and proper way only he could or doing some equally absurd-looking stretches while some final preparations were being made for his match against Hatsume.
Jomei would've devoted further thought to the matter, but on account of his complete and utter lack of understanding of how a support course student would go about trying to win a one-on-one fight, he decided to pass on that speculation for the time being. Besides, he still had to get his friend back to his seat without letting him perform a faceplant along the way.
Obviously, Denki was still dumbstruck when Jomei dumped him in his seat next to Kyoka, but he still managed to deliver a disarming, albeit somewhat stupid, smile when Kyoka and Akiko looked at him.
That smile didn't even falter when Ashido, one row behind him, poked him in the cheek.
"Well, I can't say I'm surprised this happened," Kyoka sighed. "Good job, Jomei."
Jomei grinned as he plopped down beside Akiko. "Thanks. Believe it or not, it took a lot more out of me to dodge Denki's Indiscriminate Shock than you'd think. Noble Gases is good for speed sometimes, but aerial mobility? Not really its strong suit. It takes a lot of gas and energy to keep a person in the air. Big shocker, I know."
Akiko's chest shook with a silent giggle. "Still, you did great! Even if you did miss a lot at the beginning, I think that everyone really liked watching you and Denki fight."
He nodded. "Yeah, I picked up on that at the end, there. Then I finally had a chance to pay attention to things other than the fight and banter with Denki. What exactly do you think got them all pumped up, though? My combo move at the end, or…?"
Her lip scrunched up to the side in thought, and Kyoka picked up the slack. "I think that was part of it, yeah, but they were all pretty excited before that, too. Probably has to do with how hard you guys were trying to look cool – not that it's all that hard for either of you when you bust out your Quirks, or anything."
"Yeah, and even before the fight started, they were getting into you guys!" Kirishima added. "I dunno what you were saying to each other down there, but it had some of the people closer to your fight real riled up! As for your fight? Even if it didn't last too long, you guys gave it your all, so that's enough for me to say that it was a pretty manly brawl."
"Emphasis on masculinity aside, I'm somewhat of the inclination to agree," Tokoyami kindly added. "Well done, Nishimura. You were most impressive."
Jomei folded his arms behind his head. "You guys say that, and I appreciate it, but I still think that between the bunch of us that Akiko's fight was the coolest so far."
Akiko blinked in surprise. "Really?"
"Yeah," he said easily. "It's like Kirishima said – it's not like my fight lasted too long. People watching liked it, and I'm super stoked that they did, but I still think I could've done better. All I really did back there was miss, hover for a few seconds, and then knock Denki out while he didn't stand a chance of dodging anything I threw at him. Not exactly as impressive as launching a concrete missile at a guy who was punching through every attack you used on him before then, you know?"
Their eyes met, and Jomei's expression made the pride he felt in his partner clear to see despite how utterly at ease he looked on the surface, and while Akiko's face remained neutral, her inner thoughtfulness was equally easy to interpret by anyone who really knew her.
"Still, it got you further in the festival, so you still have more of a chance to show off more of what you can do than some of us here," Kyoka commented.
"Oh yeah, totally," Jomei readily agreed. "That's why I'm not all that worried about it. I'm moving on to the next round, Akiko's moving on to the next round, and even though Denki isn't, I'm thinking that things are lookinf pretty good for us right now."
"You do realize you guys might have to fight each other if you both make it far enough in the festival though, right?" Kyoka proposed, gesturing to each of them with her earphone jacks.
"Huh…" Akiko started. "She's right. I guess that never occurred to me. What would we do if we ended up having to fight each other?"
"I'd… like to cross that bridge if and when we come to it," Jomei nervously stated, his shoulders tensing slightly at the suggestion. "I really don't want to think about the idea of having to battle my girlfriend on live TV, so… yeah…"
"I guess we'll just have to see what happens?"
"Pretty much."
"You two are a mess," Kyoka sighed.
"An adorable mess!" Ashido chimed in.
Her shoulders slouched. "If that's what works for you, Ashido, go ahead and keep thinking that. I won't stop you."
"You couldn't stop me even if you tried!" Ashido teased.
Akiko and Jomei exchanged another look, and with a shrug from the latter, the couple silently decided to drop the matter. Jomei was completely fine with the prospect of a match-up between them becoming a forgotten topic. Until such a time came that he needed to be concerned about it, he wouldn't waste the energy and disrupt his complete and utterly relaxed state on something that may or may not even occur.
On the matter of uncertainties, however, Jomei's thoughts drifted towards his Flashbang. He'd officially made it at least as far as the quarterfinals of the final stage in the festival and he still hadn't been forced to utilize it in battle yet. That alone was enough to give him another boost to his confidence. It was, and remained, the best surprise technique he had in his arsenal, and he hadn't the slightest doubt that when the time came for him to unleash it, he'd definitely be in the midst of the fight of his life.
Nevertheless, he hoped the time for him to unveil his ace-in-the-hole would be a few matches away yet. Better he first used it in the semifinals or finals than earlier on, when he'd be giving his future opponents plenty of time to mull over a counter to the technique.
"Okay!" Present Mic happily cheered. "It looks like our next pair should be ready to roll, so let's go ahead and see who we have in store for you sports fans to watch in the seventh match!"
At the very least, he knew he had time to relish in his feeling of triumph for a little while longer. He could sit back, relax, and freely observe what would be an interesting fight between members of the hero and support courses, and not even have to consider the prospects of what his future fights would entail. It'd be nice.
For now, anyway.
"He's the guy with engines in his legs! Iida Tenya from the hero course!"
Iida rose to his full height, his grip on the buckle near his waist firm as he debated the right moment to secure it in place. His engines laid somewhat dormant and inactive within his bulky calves, but his legs remained warm with the anticipation of the moment he would call upon their time-tested power.
"Versus! A fully equipped gadget dynamo from the support course – Hatsume Mei!"
Iida's focus turned to his foe. He had spoken to her at length before their separation at the announcement of the first match-ups, and her appearance was one he was sure to commit to memory. She was short, with an almost startlingly mature build and salmon pink hair to boot, styled into dreadlocks and more-or-less consistently cut at shoulder length, where they rested swept to her right. Her eyes were wide and her lashes were long and alluring, as were her irises, which were a warm yellow with an odd cross in the center of them.
Iida went ahead and assumed that last detail was related to her Quirk, but he had other things to notice about her right now to think too deeply about such a small facet of her appearance.
Over her sports uniform, she was equipped and outfitted from head to toe in a wide variety of gadgets and gizmos of her own creation. Most distinct out of the array of tools in her arsenal were four things; her gold and red steampunk goggles, a utility belt replete with an assortment of tools Iida couldn't quite make out, oversized boots he could only assume assisted with mobility, and what could possibly be some kind of bulky jetpack strung over her shoulders.
She may not have been from the hero course, but she stood tall and proud enough in her own skin to be completely at ease on the grandest stage U.A. could offer its up-and-coming aspirants.
More to the point, she was ready for whatever came next.
Iida snapped the buckle of the device he'd strapped to him into place. It was a sort of metal backpack with rods pointing at slight angles up and behind him, with each rod in possession of three nozzles loosely affixed to each end. Of course, he also had some metal leg braces that Hatsume had explained were supposed to put an extra spring in his step, but those weren't connected to the other device by merit of anything more than being attached to his body right now. He'd have to start moving more intensely around the arena to tell what the two gizmos' were truly good for.
And, most fortuitously for him, he'd have plenty of opportunity to do so in the match ahead.
"Well, if that's that, I believe I'm ready for this fight to start," he said satisfiedly to himself. "I do wonder what's stopping Present Mic from declaring the start."
"Yeah…" Hatsume commented. "If that hero up there doesn't get off his lazy butt then I won't get a chance to show off all my babies in this match!"
Iida nodded, and his hand cupped his chin. "Most curious indeed."
Midnight twisted her microphone away from her mouth and drew his attention over to her, and he recognized that her lips were twisted into a stern frown of disapproval. "Iida Tenya. You should know that hero course students cannot use support gear unless they have to. So far as I'm aware, you have no such need, and you didn't fill out any of the proper paperwork for what you're wearing now."
Iida gaped. "I-I wasn't informed that was the rule! Aoyama got to wear his belt, so I thought it was fine! I didn't mean to break any proper procedures!"
"That may be so, but he filled out the proper forms," Midnight chided.
"Then I earnestly apologize, ma'am!" Iida proclaimed, and he fell into an immediate bow. "It's just that… my heart was moved by my opponent's sportsmanship. Even though she's from the support course she wanted to be as even as possible since she got this far. She merely wanted a fair fight! So she offered to give me this equipment." His hand clenched, and he rocketed back to his full height to follow into a proud pose with his other hand over his chest. "So I respect her integrity! That is why, to honor her, I would like to wear this gear!"
The umpire's response nearly gave him whiplash.
"Such youthful vigor!" Midnight cheered adoringly, and she held her whip dangerously close to her chest, maniacally laughing before she suddenly snapped it in his direction, her stern mask suddenly back in place to provide her true answer. "I'll allow it."
"R-really?" Present Mic awkwardly asked.
"I guess if everyone's in agreement, then it's okay," Aizawa said. "Right?"
"Well uh… if everyone's on the same page, then let's go ahead and start the seventh match!"
Iida heaved a sigh of relief and adjusted his stance to prepare to sprint.
"Let 'er rip, fancy fighters!"
His legs brought him a burst of momentum to kick things off, and…
To call what transpired for the next ten minutes a 'fight' would be a gross exaggeration.
When Iida launched himself into motion, it became immediately apparent that something was wrong. Even without Midoriya's confused observation that Hatsume freely providing others with her gear seemed out of character for the obsessive inventor, when her voice suddenly rang out through the entire stadium to ask Iida how her inventions were affecting him, Jomei knew something was wrong. No sane student would ever go so far as to hack the system so they could make such frivolous announcements, which meant that Hatsume had brought in speakers to accompany the vast assortment of other tools she was permitted to bring into the arena.
Logically, the assumption therefore followed that she had other plans for the final stage. Ones that didn't include respecting the spirit of the competition she was in, and in the match that followed, that irreverence for the Sports Festival showed.
For starters, Iida's inventions were indeed helpful, but in the most unexpected ways possible. The braces around his legs augmented his speed by putting pep in his step, but the backpack device strapped to his back almost turned him into a dancing fool. It fulfilled its purpose to balance Iida via belching out short bursts of air whenever Hatsume tripped him up with her own inventions, but the insanity didn't end there.
Hatsume herself utilized an automated system to lift her out of harm's way via extending metal rods, a gun that fired capture nets woven from steel fiber, hover boots, and several more gadgets and gizmos to boot, and she spent the entire time announcing the intricacies of each invention to the support companies observing her elsewhere in the stadium instead of offering Iida even an iota of her attention.
The worst part of it all wasn't that she had absolutely no respect for the festival and turned it into a glorified advertisement only aimed at herself, nor was it that Iida had been tricked into being a willing test subject for her to use in her numerous pitches.
It was that he won.
Hatsume had him dead to rights more than once during their match, but Iida had still been given the right to progress to the quarterfinals by merit of little more than his opponent running out of inventions she wanted to put on display. After ten grueling minutes of everyone watching the support student happily hijack the entire festival, Hatsume willingly stepped out of bounds and didn't do as much as even look back in Iida's direction as she left.
He was trapped on the ground beneath a mountain of net and hardened glue when she stepped from the stage, but he was pronounced the victor of the seventh match.
Not that the title meant all that much after what he went through.
"I can't believe I let her trick me…!" Iida stressed, practically folding in on himself in his seat.
Uraraka patted him on the back. "Hey, it's okay! You made it to the next round, so you're still gonna get at least one more chance to show what you can do, right?"
"It's true. It might not be the way you wanted, but you still made it to the quarterfinals – that has to mean something to some Pro Heroes out there that are watching," Midoriya commented, repeatedly tapping a pen to his chin.
"But what merit is there to advancing to the next round when my progress wasn't earned?" Iida mourned. "I was little more than a mannequin for Hatsume! Curse my gullibility!"
'This poor guy…'
"Anyone else not really sure about how to feel about Iida's fight right now? I honestly don't have a clue." Denki's voice steered Jomei's focus away. If there was one good thing to come from the fiasco, it was that it gave Denki plenty of time to regain his cognizance again.
"Ditto," Jomei seconded. "I'm gonna go ahead and just count myself lucky to not have stumbled into his shoes, there. Talk about rough."
"Yeah, totally," Kyoka agreed. Her arms were crossed and her expression was mostly neutral, but it was clear her heart still went out to Iida's plight. "I feel kinda bad for him. If I knew him a little better, I'd probably go down there and talk to him – he probably needs all the support he can get after that dumpster fire. Not gonna lie, I'm surprised Akiko hasn't gone down there to do that by now."
Akiko jolted slightly, her eyes snapping from Iida to Kyoka. "Wait, what?"
"Well, with how you've basically been talking to everyone who loses a fight like a lost kid I figured you'd jump at the chance to at least try and make him feel better," Kyoka noncommittally explained. "Seems like your sort of gig, is all."
"Oh…" Akiko said. "I would, but Midoriya and Uraraka are his friends, and whatever they've been trying to do to help hasn't been working, so I doubt I'd be able to come up with anything better. If anything, I'd probably end up making him feel worse, somehow."
"I doubt that, Akiko, but yeah…" Jomei trailed off. "It's maybe for the best that we leave Iida to his friends and not us. He'll get over it eventually. I think."
"I hope so, it's really weird seeing Iida like this. I'm used to him being all business and class rep-y, not… whatever this is," Denki said. "Should we talk about something that isn't super unsettling now? We probably should, right?"
"Like what?" Kyoka asked.
"I dunno!" Denki stressed. "Maybe the next match? It'd be a nice change of pace after watching Iida break down in front of us for the past five minutes."
"Oh yeah, next match is the eighth one," Jomei realized. "It'll be the last one before we finally hit the next round. I guess it's about time for the first round to come to a close."
"And what better way for it to all end than by you guys watching me kick butt!" Ashido proudly declared, leaping up to her feet and pound a fist over her heart. Her grin grew toothy, and the exuberant girl started to twirl around with an emphatic point behind her. "It's time for our match, Sero, but don't you think that all because I'm super strong that I'll take it easy on you- wait where'd he go?"
All eyes landed on Sero's empty seat, and Ashido's hand dropped.
"He left," Sato answered. "Like… a while ago."
"Aw, man! And I had this whole speech ready and everything…" Ashido complained, her posture slouching before her abundant energy glued her smile back into place. "Oh, well! Guess I better head over to the arena now, huh? Welp, see you guys after my match!"
With a hop and a skip through the few students sitting between her and the stairs, Ashido had started merrily making her way out of the booth when Kirishima suddenly stood. "Hey, Ashido! Wait a sec, I'm gonna tag along!"
"You'll have to catch me first!" Ashido teased, and she vanished into the halls not a moment later, leaving Kirishima to dash around the booth in hot pursuit.
Kyoka was the first to break the ensuing silence. "What was that all about?"
Denki shrugged. "Jomei?"
Jomei raised his hands in mock surrender. "Akiko?"
All three of them looked at her, and she immediately became flustered. "Well, don't look at me for an answer! All I really know about Kirishima is that he and Bakugo sometimes hang out. My best guess is as good as any of yours. Maybe Ashido and Kirishima might like each other, or something?"
Before anyone could comment on the speculation, another nonsensical exclamation of embarrassment loudly left Iida's lips from the conversation transpiring at the other side of Class 1-A's reserved booth. All Jomei could hope now was that watching the final fight would help Iida get over himself – or at least, distract him enough that he'd forget his woes. He knew Iida would inevitably overcome the hurdle he'd hit, but boy did he hope that time would come sooner rather than later.
Manic mourning was not a good look on him.
Even though Ashido had left in her typical bubbly fashion, she didn't carry herself forward in any particular hurry. Her legs carried her in a somewhat meandering, if steady fashion, and the only thing that made it clear she wasn't some kind of intoxicated by how she seemed unable to walk in a straight line was the coordination she still clearly possessed. Pep and a slight spring in her step made it obvious that she was as cognizant as ever, if still almost too casual about her journey forward for her own good.
She wasn't concerned in the slightest about her match. Back at lunch, when she had spoken to the other girls about it, they had advised her to remain alert, as to not accidentally lose her match due to a lack of caution. At the time, she'd taken the advice as seriously as her demeanor would allow, but now she was back to her original, utterly relaxed stance. She didn't consider herself cocky, but she did have total confidence in herself; her agility and strength, her Quirk, her looks, everything.
Other members of Class 1-A may choose to interpret her attitude as dangerous and possibly jeopardizing her chances of getting far in the final stage, since she seemed so adept at totally ignoring any tactical advice she received, but she wasn't concerned about that. She had a plan of her own and the power to make it happen, and that's all that mattered to her – obsessive compulsion to gossip with the girls notwithstanding.
So what if they might think Sero stood a good chance of winning? So what if he was strategically smarter than her sometimes? Ashido had Acid on her side, and it was a pretty darn powerful Quirk for one-on-one fights, if she did say so herself. All she had to do was dial down the acidity of her Quirk if she ever sent it his way, and even if he did land a hit on her, she could use acid on his attacks and free herself.
Honestly, with all she had going for her, she didn't see what all the fuss was about in terms of her attitude. She was confident, capable, and had a good idea of what she had to do to win. Wasn't that all that mattered?
She had nearly made it to the exit into the arena itself when a familiar rough and masculine voice finally decided to make itself known behind her.
"Hey, Ashido?" Kirishima sounded.
"I was wondering when you'd speak up," Ashido observed, and she stopped to spin on her heel before she decided to hop one step closer to him, an innocent intrigue in his presence plain to see on her face. "What's up?"
"You're… not surprised that I wanted to follow you out?" He asked, with a somewhat taken aback look about him.
"Nope!" Ashido chirped easily, and she clasped her hands behind her as she suddenly stood back upright. "I still remember what a sulky-butt you were back in junior high, Kirishima – I kinda figured you'd wanna tag along to wish me luck or something."
"Hey, don't talk about junior high me! I was super lame back then!" Kirishima indignantly exclaimed. "Seriously, the less we talk about that version of me, the better."
"Aw, but it's so fun though! Remember your hair? It was all black, and you never gelled it up into all the spikes you have now… you looked like a moodier and normal-er version of Tokoyami!" Ashido teased with a giggle, but she clamped down on it in favor of using a more understanding tone when she saw that Kirishima had huffed in frustration. "But I guess you haven't gotten over how 'super unmanly' you were before you applied to U.A. yet, huh?"
Kirishima looked to the side, somewhat pouting. "I didn't follow you to talk about me."
"Then why did you?" Ashido asked with a tilt of her head.
"Back when we first saw each other at U.A., you called me your 'horn buddy.'" Kirishima gestured at the two small, frontmost spikes in his delicately styled hair. "So you were right. I tagged along because I wanted to wish my horn buddy luck before her brawl."
"Awww, that's sweet!" Ashido fawned. "You know what, Kirishima, you might try to look all cool and stuff for everyone else but you really are a softie on the inside." A mischievous glint sparkled in her eyes. "Not all that manly…"
"Hey, being in touch with your heart is super manly!" Kirishima defended passionately. "The only thing that can be unmanly about your emotions is when you run away from them!"
"Oh… is that why you still don't want me to tell everyone about your mopey phase?" She winked.
"I mean, kinda, but-" His eyes widened and he shook his head. "Agh! We're talking about me again. Let's not do that. I wanted to wish you luck, and I did, but I also wanted to make sure you know that I want you to make it far in the final stage. Don't underestimate whoever you end up against in the next few rounds. You're too strong to go down because you didn't take a match seriously."
Ashido put her hand on her hip and scratched the back of her head with the other. "You act like I've already won…"
"When it's my horn buddy headed out there in a second, I wanna think that you did," Kirishima said. "You're gonna do great, I know it."
"Hey, hold up! Didn't you lose your fight, like, two matches ago?" Ashido pointed out. "Why do I have to be the one that has to carry the horn buddies all the way through the festival? Talk about pressure…"
"Well I was put up against Takara!" Kirishima's hands went up in mock surrender and he took a step back. "I tried my best to beat her, but she's in the top tier of our class with her grades, of course she outsmarted me at the end!"
Ashido crossed her arms childishly. "Well, that's no excuse! She outsmarted you with a rock. A really big rock that blasted you into the air, but still!"
Kirishima sighed and his arms fell, but an amused smirk pulled at his lips all the same. "I'm not backing down on what I said, Ashido, but if you're so confident about how smart we are, you must have a genius plan to send Sero packing, right?"
"Yep!"
He blinked in surprise. "Really?"
"Run up and punch 'im in the face!" Ashido elaborated, throwing a fist up as if to further pronounce her point.
"...really?" Kirishima asked again, utterly at a loss.
She gave him a puzzled look. "Well, it's not like I'll be aiming for his face, but… I'll probably end up hitting him in the face though. Bye!"
Without giving him a chance to compose a response, Ashido turned tail and ran off in the direction of the arena. Leaving Kirishima completely flustered and confused in her wake never quite seemed to get old for her, and she could never figure out why. Up until the point where they'd both made it into U.A. and encountered each other on the first day of school, she really hadn't even talked to him all that much, but she now considered him to be her best boy friend.
Emphasis on boy and friend as separate words. She liked Kirishima, and she thought that he was a really sweet guy once you were able to look past all the flexing he does to look macho, but she honestly didn't think she was looking for that kind of commitment right now. While she was at U.A., she'd live it up and have the time of her life while training to become a pro – everything else could wait until adulthood.
Hopefully. Probably.
In more certain and relevant terms to her present situation, however, she figured that she'd at least take Kirishima's advice to heart. She'd still have fun during her fight, for sure, but she'd also take it just a teeny bit more seriously than she would have before he talked to her. Now she wasn't merely fighting for herself, she was fighting for the glory of her and her horn buddy.
Which meant it was time to go beyond, plus ultra! Or plus Acid!
She excitedly bounded up the blocky steps, and with one final merry bounce over the boundary line, she stood tall in her starting position opposite to Sero. There was nothing now that could cause her giddy grin to falter now. It was the finale of the first round of the final stage, and it was completely and utterly her – and Sero's – time to shine in the spotlight.
"Welcome to the eighth and final battle of the first round of matches!" Present Mic greeted. "I know all you sports fans are eager beavers when it comes to me letting you know who our fighters are, so I'll cut right to the chase!"
Sero started to stretch his lanky limbs as the announcer's attention fell on him.
"He's got skills, but at the expense of some really creepy-looking elbows! From the hero course Sero Hantaaaa!"
"Well, that was uncalled for…" Sero complained.
"His opponent- uh, hey, is there some kind of purpose to those curly horns sticking out on top of her head? Whatever, it's Ashido Minaaaa!"
"I can't wait to kick your butt, Sero!" Ashido eagerly cried, and she kicked her shoes off so that she could promptly throw them far behind her. No point in ruining perfectly good shoes because they weren't designed with an acid-spewing alien girl in mind, after all.
Sero smirked, and his arms went deceptively slack at his sides. "I mean yeah, sure, you can try to win if you want, but…"
"Let the eighth match… BEGIIIN!"
"I don't feel like losing this match, either!" Sero shouted, and he lashed out with his Quirk without warning.
Ashido barely dodged the strips of tape when they barreled by, bending backward at the last second with a startled peep. As the strip started to reel itself back in, she had no time to react before Sero spoke again.
"I thought you'd do that!" he continued. "How about this, then!?"
She was on her way back up to a standing position when she felt a sudden tightness ensnare her legs, and she looked down to find a large length of tape entrapping her. Her heart sank, and all she had time to do was yelp as Sero yanked her to the side, sending her crashing into the ground and dragging her along the harsh concrete of the stage.
"That attack could throw his opponent out of bounds!" Present Mic observed. "A brilliant opening move from the living tape dispenser down there!"
"If you think this is gonna be enough to take me out, you're dead wrong, Sero!" Ashido grunted, and she tensed her legs.
Acid ate through her binds in a moment as it was ejected through her calves, as well as the bottoms of her pant legs in doing so, but Ashido didn't care. She rolled with sudden momentum and activated her Quirk through her feet to burn her a foothold and slow her down. With a huff of exertion as she came to a stop against the groove she'd formed in the floor, she pressed harshly against the stage again to send herself into the start of a practiced skate along the slick acid she laid out in front of her.
Her eyes remained on Sero as she kept moving. "And while you're rethinking how bad you underestimated me, don't you forget what my Quirk is! I've got this in the bag!"
Sero's smile didn't falter, and he took aim with his elbows. "Oh yeah? Well don't you forget that I've been working on my aim!"
Another strip sailed through the air in front of Ashido, and she slid underneath it with the help of acid ejected from her exposed legs before hopping back to her feet to try and get closer to her opponent, but yet another strike was sent out at her. This time, it hit its mark on her thigh, but she slapped her palm against the offensive tape before Sero could send her skidding along the stage again.
More of her clothing had been sacrificed at the altar of buying her an escape from Sero's strategy, but it was worth it. She continued skating along the perimeter of the arena, planning on getting close the moment she found the opportunity to slide the rest of the distance and get in the clean strike that she knew would win the match. She knew she could overcome whatever wit or strength Sero possessed if she could just get in close. Besides, the longer the match went on, the longer she had to make sure everyone watching had a chance to really see what smooth moves she could pull off.
To that extent, over the next few minutes, she was successful. Kind of.
Indeed, she openly flaunted her skills in terms of acrobatics and agility, and her Quirk was given its own spotlight, but at the same time, her efforts' positive outcomes weren't exclusive to her own benefit. Sero hadn't given her an opening once, and in fact had even landed strips of his sticky tape on her more than a few times. On parts of her body that had already had their clothes burned away, she used Acid and they weren't an issue, but on parts of her body that had been previously untouched, she was forced to let her Quirk eat even further away at her uniform to preserve her freedom of movement.
Which, five minutes after their match had started, brought her down to the tank top beneath her ruined jacket, torn-up pants that now more effectively acted as glorified shorts than a proper uniform, and not much else.
In some ways, she really didn't care about how utterly bizarre she may have looked. She was still in the fight, able to dodge Sero's attacks, and fight for a chance to keep her promise to Kirishima going. That was all that mattered.
And then Mineta opened his stupid mouth.
"Come on, Sero, hit her again!" She heard him eagerly cry. "Aim for her tank top so that she has to burn that off next- gah!"
"You obstinate, perverted, jerk! Stop that!" Yaoyorozu chided.
Ashido smirked. Leave it to the class deputy to defend her honor against that sick little man-baby called Mineta. Reinvigorated, she decided it was time for a change of pace. If Sero wasn't going to give her any openings, then she'd have to go ahead and make one for herself.
She jumped from her slick slide and thick acid pooled in her palm. Ducking under one last strip of tape from his assault, her smirk grew into a grin and she launched the loose ball born from her Quirk in his direction. "Hey Sero! Catch!"
Sero hesitated. "What is- oh!"
As expected, Sero dove to the side to avoid the acidic glob, and as he was scrambling to get back up to his feet, Ashido jumped again and acid spewed from her feet. With her hands in front of her, her speed boosted close to levels she'd only achieved in training before now. She had a straight path to follow and not a care in the world as to anything that could slow her down.
'Max viscosity…'
Her speed rose further, and she arrived within striking distance of Sero. His eyes widened and he tried to whip his elbows around to stop her advance, but his opponent was faster.
"Opening and closing move…" Ashido started.
Her fist flew straight up, and she felt a resounding thwack run from her hand up to her shoulder from where it cleanly connected with Sero's chin.
"An uppercut!"
With a mental signal sent down to her feet, her Quirk's seemingly endless stream of slimy acid stopped, and she padded happily along the next few meters of the stage to let the rest of her momentum die off. From how hard and fast she hit Sero, she didn't even need to turn around to tell that she'd won by now. As such, she put her hands on her hips, spread a toothy grin on her face, and awaited the announcement.
"Sero has fainted!" Midnight proudly pronounced. "The winner of the eighth match in the final stage… is Ashido!"
"Dang, Sero went down hard!" Present Mic commented. "That's a textbook example of an ace victory if I've ever seen one, sports fans!"
A pair of one-wheeled medical bots rolled by with a stretcher for Sero between them, but Ashido didn't pay them much mind. Instead, she smiled for the cameras in the distance as they flashed to take pictures of her in her moment of triumph, all giddy glee and thrown-up peace signs as praise pelted her from the stands.
Eventually, she turned toward 1-A's booth before belting out an elated declaration of her own design. "See? Nothin' to it, Kirishima! You may be out, but we're still in this! Horn buddies!"
Kirishima bent over the rails there, cupping one hand over his mouth while the other latched onto the metal beneath him. "Who said I was worried? You did awesome down there!"
"And with that final throw of a fist, Ashido ends the first round of matches! Give us a sec to give the ring a once-over and we'll keep this ball rolling!"
When Ashido returned to the booth, Jomei knew that he wasn't the only one wondering what she'd arrive among them wearing. Fortunately for her dignity and unfortunately for Mineta, she came back with a factory-fresh U.A. sports uniform, and the only thing more noticeable was the blindingly bright grin on her pink face. She was nothing but a ball of infectious positivity, as if she was even now still being bombarded with bottomless praise like she had upon her triumph.
"Ashido, where did you learn to move like that? It was crazy!" Hagakure gushed.
Ojiro nodded beside her. "Yeah, I must say that being able to react so quickly and flawlessly with your Quirk was really impressive. At first I thought you were on the ropes, but then you ran straight up to Sero so quickly! That must have taken either a lot of luck or a ton of skill no matter how you spin it."
"It may seem that way, but I'd beg to argue that what Ashido did down there was most certainly all skill," Yaoyorozu suggested. "The probability that she'd accidentally send herself flying in the precise direction of her opponent by accident, only to recover and land the perfect strike she needed to so that she'd triumph in one attack is astronomical."
"Yaoyorozu's right, I don't think she'd be able to do something like that by accident, ribbit. Besides, it's not like we haven't seen Ashido use her Quirk to move around really quickly before," Tsuyu supplied. "So yeah, good job Ashido. Ribbit."
"Aw, you guys!" Ashido fawned. "Thanks."
It was as Ashido started over to where most of the other girls were seated that Sero appeared behind her, though he immediately headed toward Kirishima before he could be met with too much attention. "Hey, Kirishima, is our battle trial team cursed or what? First we both flop back then and now this happens? There's gotta be some bad karma going around us or something, right?"
Sero sat down, and Kirishima shrugged with his hands. "I dunno man, might have more to do with who we were fighting and our match-ups than any of that stuff. Takara's smart, so she beat me, and Ashido's strong even if you don't wanna mention her Quirk. Better luck next time for us, eh?"
Ashido knelt on her seat to face them. "You know, Kirishima, you don't really have to butter me up. I was gonna carry the horn buddies as far as I could anyway!"
"Hey, I didn't say any of that just to make you feel good – I meant it. All of it."
"I'm of a mind to agree with Kirishima," Iida added tiredly. It appeared that the worst of his soreness from his earlier 'success' against Hatsume had faded, but he wasn't quite back to his normal self yet. "Out of all of our female colleagues, it's hard to argue that you're anything but the most physically imposing out of all of them. Your performance during training and the match moments ago are all the evidence we need to draw such a conclusion."
"See? Iida agrees with me," Kirishima smirked.
Ashido waved dismissively at him and sat down properly in her seat. "Yeah, yeah… you still owe me for all this pressure you've put on me, though!"
"Wait, when did we discuss me owing you something?"
"Never, but I said it, so it's true now!"
"Okay… how about ice cream after all this is over?" Kirishima suddenly suggested, a stroke of invisible inspiration turning his expression into an unreadable challenge.
Once more, Ashido flipped onto her knees and stretched to give Kirishima a fist bump. "Deal!"
From how everyone's attention seemed to be distributed mostly among their own conversations and not Ashido and Kirishima as of now, Jomei finally elected to let his focus float steadily away from the other pair's interactions. His brow furrowed. "Guys? I've been thinking…"
"You sure you should be doing that? Could be dangerous," Denki teased.
Jomei ignored the startled yelp that followed when Kyoka then prodded him in the back with one of her earphone jacks. "I'm serious. Ashido's fight was the last one of the final stage, so why haven't the quarterfinals started yet?"
Kyoka's expression went from annoyance at Denki to thoughtful realization. "Yeah, you're right, this is weird. Come to think of it, has the bracket for the next round even been shown yet? Even in between rounds, they've only been showing either replays or ads on the big screens. This is kinda weird."
"And it doesn't stop there. Look," Akiko added, and she pointed down at the arena, where Cementoss was almost lazily dragging the cement-providing hose through the field. "There has to be a reason Cementoss is taking his time getting ready to repair the arena from Ashido's acid, or else him taking so long doesn't make any sense. We're in the middle of the final stage of the festival, and Present Mic said himself that they're going to keep things moving along."
Another student draping the upper half of his body over the wall separating Class 1-A and 1-B's reserved booths then caught their attention. He had short, slick blond hair that was parted to the left, leaving his bangs to hang slightly over his right eye, and his irises were a periwinkle purple. Overall, he didn't look all that suspicious, but given how his sly smirk and the slight tilt of his head gave him a downright contemptuous look about him, Jomei immediately assumed he was someone who had a high opinion of himself.
He was immediately proven right. "I see that the rest of Class 1-A is as dumb as I thought they'd be! Obviously Present Mic and the other heroes in charge of the festival are going to be doing something to shake things up. If any of you even had the slightest inkling of an idea as to what makes the Sports Festival so popular, you'd understand that if they merely played into the crowd's expectations of what would normally happen in the final stage, it'd just take away from the excitement of how random the festival is every year! Of course it'd take someone from Class 1-B to point that out to all of you! Hahahahahahaha!"
The 1-B student's scornful snickering ascended into outright manic laughter, and complete and utter confusion covered Jomei's face. "Who the hell is this guy?"
Kyoka shook her head, still looking at the boy. "I have no idea."
"He's a waste of time. All he can do is copy Quirks and try to piss you off," Bakugo answered, shocking everyone into silence before glaring at the boy in question. "Hey, leech! Why don't you find something else to do with your time before I make you?"
The boy's laughing stopped, but his grin stayed wide. "That attitude is exactly why I nearly beat you back during the cavalry battle! That time was a one-in-ten chance in your favor, Bakugo! Every other time I'd emerge on top! Just you wait until our paths cross again, then I'll show you how completely outclassed you-"
A giant hand surrounded his entire body from the waist up before dragging him back down into Class 1-B's booth. Its owner then clambered on top of that same wall herself in a similar manner, presumably having released the boy from her grasp since both of her hands were free and normal-sized once again. She had teal eyes and long, ginger hair tied into a high ponytail on the left side of her head, with her bangs split into three clumps around her eyes and some of her hair sticking up in big tufts atop her head.
"Sorry about that. Monoma has a little bit of an inferiority complex when it comes to how much attention you guys got because of the USJ incident," she explained. "I'll try to take care of him and keep him on a short leash from now on. Leave it to the big sister of Class 1-B to take care of the guys who don't want to behave, right?"
Bakugo crossed his arms. "Tch. Whatever."
"What Bakugo means to say is 'thanks,' but uh… who are you again?" Kirishima asked.
"Oh, right! I'm Kendo Itsuka, and I'm the class rep of Class 1-B," Kendo said. "It was nice to say hi to all of you, even if it wasn't quite the best circumstances for an introduction."
Then, with a wordless smile and a wave in Iida's direction, which the 1-A rep returned in a much more subdued manner, Kendo slipped from the wall back into her own booth and left the other hero course class in silence.
"So…" Akiko started.
"That was weird, yeah," Jomei finished.
Akiko, Denki, and Kyoka offered their three confirmations of agreement in order.
"Yeah."
"Yep."
"Mhm."
"Now, all you guys and gals in the audience might be wondering why we haven't revealed the quarterfinal bracket yet! Well, there's a reason for that…" Present Mic's suddenly revealed.
A weary sigh deflated his chest. "So Monoma was right…"
"Because every Sports Festival final stage has always had a one-on-one competition with some kinda bracket in it, we figured that this year we should go ahead and spice things up! That's right, folks, we're randomizing the match-ups of the next round!"
"And he really was right," Kyoka commented amusedly.
"Now some matches might remain the same, but I can assure you all that there's definitely gonna be some you'd never see coming this early on in the one-on-one fights! So buckle up and let's hit up that digital lottery to find out who's fighting who!"
Four digital wheels appeared on the screens around the stadium, and as a stylized button played out its animation of being pressed, all of them started to spin at breakneck speed. One by one they randomly came to their own abrupt halts, slowly revealing the bracket of the quarterfinals until there was no more room for mystery in the impending matches' compositions. Jomei's eyes glanced over all of them in time to commit their participants and their order to memory, but one very obvious one stood out to him in particular.
For a very wide variety of reasons.
"There we have it, folks! It looks like we have our first match-up decided! Bakugo Katsuki and Nishimura Jomei will be kicking off the quarterfinals!"
He heard Bakugo stand and stalk toward the exit behind him.
"But don't worry, since Cementoss still needs some time to patch up the stage, they still have time to take down those nerves and get in the zone! We'll be right back in a few minutes, everyone!"
With the announcements at an end, Jomei stood and watched his opponent disappear into the interior of the stadium, headed who-knows-where. He felt the collective dozen eyes that consisted of his friends and classmates on him, but he ignored them. Instead, with one deep breath and a thoughtful look, he too started his way out of the stands and toward the waiting room. Sheer determination and drive broiled in his chest and bubbled up to the surface in a hardened look of determination.
He heard his friends stand to follow him, but stalwart as stone, he kept moving.
Authors Note: Talk about a chonky chapter, eh? Might as well cut to the chase of this author's note, then. Okay, for starters – the introductory scene of the chapter. Dunno if it's authorial bias speaking or not, but I think I kinda stumbled into a sweet interaction or two for Jomei and Akiko insofar as their 'relationship' goes. If nothing else, I like to think that the scene also gave Midoriya and Uraraka a bit more of a dynamic between them than just one-sided pining for the other on Uraraka's part.
Now for Denki and Jomei's fight. As is a bit of a theme for this chapter, I had a ton of fun writing it even if it didn't last long. Fun interactions, fun dialogue, fun fight overall, even though I always knew Denki wouldn't win it… at least, not at his current level of training and skill in combat. They shall remain friends nevertheless, obviously, since, well… they kinda did come to terms with what was about to happen a while back.
Iida vs Hatsume. I skipped that on purpose. Why? Because I both had literally nothing to add to that fight beyond internal thoughts from Iida and I knew this chapter was gonna be massive from the second I decided what kinda note it'd end on.
As for Ashido's scenes? She is… a surprisingly easy character to write, probably because she gives me the same bubbly character to work with that Jean from Class 1-B does. That and, given the relationship she has with Kirishima (and how he's my favorite character), I suppose I had plenty of ideas to work with from the get-go. In terms of their history, friendship, dynamic, and the fight itself was an exercise in exciting improv for me, too. I mean, yeah, I coulda omitted Mineta being utterly himself, but I thought it was a nice callback to canon. Even if I hate the little bastard, as a rule.
Now, final scene time. Monoma and Kendo finally get to be introduced in earnest thanks to me stumbling into a narratively decent way of doing so! Yay! That's two fewer characters I need to worry about introducing properly now outta Class 1-B, at least, lol. And with that, this chapter comes to a close, and I don't think I need to tell you guys what's coming up next and how it'll (hopefully) be a blast for me to write on so many levels. Stay awesome, possums!