Itsuka broke his guard. She went in towards his exposed chest fully intending to finish this match in the opening move.

Not now, not again.

Izuku took a step back deflecting her attack so that it grazed his arm. His limbs felt heavy, muscles screaming at him from the combined assault of working out, training, and now sparring, no doubt Itsuka would be leaving yet another bruise on him before this was over. He regained his footing with a stomp, planting himself firmly in place to deal with her next attack.

They had two days before the tournament, and for the past week, Kendo-sensei had been drilling martial arts into his mind and body non-stop. In many ways, it was worse than All Might's training, but that might be because All Might was still pushing him to his limits and even further beyond.

There was not a single part of him that didn't hurt.

A pause, barely more than a moment, passed between them, Itsuka's hot breath barely visible in the chill autumn weather that choked Japan in its grips. She was tired, they'd been at this for hours now, her brow drenched in sweat. But there was a smile on her face that betrayed her tiredness.

Was he smiling too? He couldn't feel his cheeks.

If he waited too long then Itsuka would go on the attack, if he acted too soon then Itsuka would block into a counterattack that would finish him quickly. But it was better than being on the defensive. He lunged forward, keeping his feet low to the ground and under him. His first blow was aimed at the center of her black-top, where she would have to block him.

She did, with one arm, windmilling his attack up and away.

Perfect.

Leg sweep, hook below the ankles, pull.

Her eyes went wide when she felt her footing slip out from under her. Had he done it? Had he finally managed to beat Itsuka? It had only taken a thousand or more tries. Then he saw her smile as she went down, bending backward and catching herself on her hands.

Feet aimed directly at him.

She pushed off the ground rocketing towards him in a spiral.

Block! He had to blo-

He blocked her kick with his exposed open chest and was sent to the ground, the wind all but forced from his lungs. Once more he found himself staring up at the ceiling the taste of defeat was fresh in his mouth and his entire body was screaming at him that it was ready to go on strike if working conditions did not improve drastically.

Evidently, today was not the day he would beat Itsuka.

"Shit!" He heard Itsuka swear. "Izuku I'm sorry I just kind of got sucked into the fight." She stomped over to him, her long auburn hair pulled into a ponytail that glistened with sweat. She wiped a hand on her black baggy sweatpants and offered it to him. "Are you okay? I also kind of thought you'd block that."

Her hand was warm, firm, and full of calluses. She pulled him up with a surprising amount of ease. "I'm fine," he smiled placing his hands on his knees to keep from falling over. Despite the fact that his muscles were plotting a mass spasm that would have him hospitalized he was fine. Every breath burned like he was finally getting fresh air after years of drowning. "I'm just a little worn out."

"As you should be." Kendo-sensei placed a hand on his shoulder, his smile was wide enough that barely a spark could be seen of his eyes. "You are still in the forge, while the shape is there you still need to be tempered." He brushed his mustache offering him a half shrug. "And just like forging a blade it is important to cool the body before it is ready. Maybe, I don't know how to forge a sword, I'm not that kind of sensei. I don't even own a sword."

"Yes we do," Itsuka, took a step back to avoid her father's hand from falling on her shoulder. "It's hanging in the dining room."

"Oh, that's just a hilt and a scabbard."

Itsuka's face twisted as she rolled her eyes. "Whatever, but do you think we're ready for the tournament this weekend?"

"You? Certainly." Her father flipped his hand a few times like he was moving an invisible abacus. "I think you'll either make it to the finals or semi-finals." Kendo-sensei turned to him, finger on his chin. "As for you Izuku. Try not to lose in the first round."

"Dad!" Itsuka swatted him in the chest, "Show some more support!"

Kendo-sensei laughed, his whole body shaking. "Come now Itsuka, He's only been training with us for what nine months now? Many of the students participating in the tournament have been eating and breathing martial arts since they were born." Kendo-sensei grabbed his head, roughing up his hair and jostling him around a bit. "I'm not going to lie to one of my favorite pupils. He can catch up to them, but many are beyond his grasp. Besides, it's his first tournament, expecting success the first time you do something is to set yourself up for a bitter defeat."

"Expecting to lose readies you to learn from your mistakes." He paused, shrugging once more and waved his hands. "It also sets you up to lose, don't be negative and you'll do fine."

"Was that supposed to help?" Itsuka glared at her father's back, hands on her hips.

"I'll do my best Sensei!" he bowed, stomach muscles protesting at the sudden movement. He was only expected to get to the second round. He'd get at least into the quarterfinals! Besides, All Might was going to be there, he had to prove to him that all this extra training would also help him become a vessel worthy of One for All.

"Oh, I expect you'll give me more than your best Izuku." Kendo-sensei turned to him, the cold silver of his blue eyes burning deep expectations into him. "But just so you know, once this tournament is over, your real training begins. If you thought what we did previously was harsh, you're about to enter a whole new level of-"

"Dad!" Itsuka stomped her feet at her father. "Stop trying to act cool!"

"Fine," Kendo-sensei deflated, letting out a breath, his smile still present. "But I will be stepping up your training after this, but for tomorrow, your training is to rest, no sense in you showing what you can do when you're half dead. Though perhaps that might be a boon if you're entering U.A."

XXXX

This, felt like a waste of time.

Both for him and Young Midoriya.

Toshinori found a seat high in the stands where fewer people sat. But, true to his word, young Midoriya had kept to his word, somehow managing to balance school, his own grueling training on the beach, and whatever training the boy's Martial Arts instructor had been given him.

And somehow managed to stay alive. If the boy had anything it was mental fortitude. Months ago it had gone from a matter of will the boy becomes worthy to when. Not that he'd tell him that, One for all would remain with him until that beach was clean, it was just a matter of making it to U.A. this year.

The stadium was sparse, taking place at a high school gym and was primarily for middle school students just on their way to high schools. High schoolers made up much of the crowd, likely club members looking for potential new recruits for the next year. Parents made up the minority of the class.

"Kid made it sound like it was something much more important than some middle school tournament." He smiled shaking his head and leaning forward it was easy to find his disciple, was that the correct word? Future successor? Protege? It really didn't matter what title he gave Izuku.

Besides, he couldn't let the public know, not yet, not with All for One still out there.

It was easy to find Izuku, if not for his green hair then for the fact that he often stood next to that girl with orange hair that could stand out just about anywhere, it really was an eye-catching color. His student was kneeling next to the girl, dressed in a Martial Arts gi and looking as nervous as could be. Behind them stood Izuku's 'Kendo-sensei' a happy faced old man that looked ever so familiar.

The girl - Itsuka if he remembered Izuku's mumbling correctly - looked right at him and smiled, elbowing Izuku in the arm before nodding at him. Izuku's eyes went wide, his fanboy nature kicking in as he recognized him. He only glanced at him half a dozen times over the course of a minute while trying to maintain still. He nodded and smiled at the boy, but that did little to calm the boy's nerves.

Placing one hand on his head he groaned, why did he have to choose such a fanboy? He blamed Dave.

The tournament, if it could even be called that, started promptly, there would only be four rounds in the tournament. It really did feel much smaller in scale than anything U.A. ever did. There was probably going to be more students in his class than were present here. "Come now, when did I become such a bitter old man!"

He slammed a hand to his chest and leaned forward, might as well enjoy the show.

There was something to be said about martial arts, in theory, they served as a way of directing force and energy to make attacks more effective. There were many in the hero world that used them, often with a quirk that modified their body in some way to allow them to use modified techniques more effectively. And results often varied wildly.

Of course, there were those that used martial arts to subdue criminals in a non-violent way.

But, often times fights were decided by determination, equipment, allies, and the sheer power of one's quirk and ability to use it.

For him, with One for All, learning martial arts wouldn't add much. That's not to say he couldn't throw a punch, his old sensei beat that into him. But there was little point in attempting to karate-chop when a good old American Haymaker would do the job ten times over! Gah, what was he thinking if Gran Torino heard his thoughts he'd get another beating!

"Still," he rubbed his eyes and looked at young Midoriya once more. The boy was different from him in many ways. For starters, he was a whole hell of a lot smarter. "Perhaps he might be able to make some use of Martial Arts."

Itsuka stepped into the ring, her posture perfect, a balanced amount of pride, self-confidence, and respect for her opponent. She was light on her feet, and her stance was strong. Her opponent, a large boy that had 20 cm on her and a lot more bulk was closer to a bull in a china shop.

From the moment the match began Itsuka was in complete control, not only through technique, strategy, and patience. But through strength as well. It was over in a matter of moments, with the boy being pushed out of bounds.

He might enjoy these matches more if he knew the rules.

Izuku's match was a few bouts later, on the opposite side of the bracket. He leaned forward focusing on his student. Seven months had passed when he first met that scrawny little child that had no hopes of ever doing a simple pull up, and while by most standards he still was scrawny, he was not the same child. At least on the outside. Izuku's stance oscillated between the calm perfection of a master and the erratic chaos of an armature enthusiast.

His opponent outclassed Izuku in every category; confidence, composure, size, strength, experience, technique. The odds were stacked against him, he was the underdog by a long shot. A perfect test. He leaned forward, smiling into his hands as he kept his eyes focused on Izuku, a thrill tingling his spine. "Show me what you have learned Young Midoriya, show me that I was right to trust you. Show me what you can do with no quirk."

XXXX

He was making a fool out of himself in front of Kendo-sensei, Itsuka, All Might, and his mom! There was no way he was ready for this! His muscles were still sore, his body was still screaming at him for the hell he'd put it through and he had no idea what on earth he was doing! He was completely outclassed.

The blow - one of many - hammered home against his defenses. All he could do was block and try not to lose so fast. The only plus side was that this guy wasn't as strong or as fast as Itsuka, he wasn't even scarier than Kaachan was, but that didn't mean he wasn't scary! Another blow, this one pushing his arm out wide as an open palm slammed into his chest.

The wind was knocked out of him as he was forced back, his lungs burning all over again. The world spun, another blow - once more to his chest - and it stopped. That clarity only lasted for a few brief moments before nausea set. The third blow he barely blocked pushing it to the side so it grazed his shoulder he ran away.

He needed time, time to gather himself. There had to be something he could do. His foe had longer reach than him, better technique, more power, greater speed, he wasn't slow and lumbering, nor did he charge blindly. Average in every attribute. No weaknesses.

He was already down in points and fatigue. There had to be something. Wait, why wasn't he being charged at? Or acted upon aggressively, his opponent was taking small measured steps towards him. The ring! He was at the edge. His opponent was being careful, he didn't want to risk a ring out. Sure, charging him could force him out of the ring, but it could easily backfire.

A ring out wouldn't guarantee him the win. But it might earn him enough points to matter.

He was in a corner, there was no escape, defeat was inevitable. He couldn't think his way out of this. So, maybe he could just do something stupid.

With his head down he charged forward, taking a quick blow to the shoulder and knee to the stomach as his shoulder collided with his opponent's stomach. He might not be much of a fighter, his body might not be that strong, but if there was one thing he had gotten good at these past seven months it was lifting heavy and awkward objects.

He pushed up with his knees, thankful that the rules allowed for grapples. A scream escaped him as he felt the full weight of his opponent on his shoulder, he twisted, turning that upwards energy into horizontal momentum and tossed his opponent out of the ring like the countless number of microwaves he had thrown into the back of All Might's truck.

His opponent landed on his feet, looked down at the ground and smiled. "Good one."

"That's the stuff kid!" All Might's booming voice echoed throughout the gymnasium. "Now that was really giving it your Plus Ultra!"

All eyes turned to the large imposing figure that was All Might in a winter coat, beaming and smiling like it was a photo opt.

"Hey, is that All Might?" one person said.

"What's he doing here?"

"Why's he rooting for that kid?"

"Maybe it's his kid or something?"

All Might's smile didn't vanish but his arm fell and he looked around the room as people began to move towards him. "Ahh! What's that? A cat stuck in a tree? Hold on kitty! I'm coming! Plus Ultra!"

Without waiting a moment, All Might leapt over to the door, clearing several people and was gone.

"Did All Might really just use the cat stuck in a tree excuse?" Itsuka asked walking up to nudge him on the shoulder. "Still, good job Izuku, but next time try to get hit less."

He lost a minute into the next round. Itsuka barely lost the finals.

AN: I hate writing action. That's why this chapter took so long and is on the short side. Still trying to figure out how I'm going to do the up coming stuff. But I hope you all enjoyed this! Next chapter should be... a thing. We're finally going to get U.A! Or atleast the entrance exam!

Donate to my Ko-fi! Ko-fi / Yojimbra Should bring you there. Or not , up to you.