"Orthrus, Agilao!" The arena was consumed by a swarm of fire and ice, though gradually, the frost grew closer to the source of the fire. The ice finally broke through, smashing into where Izuku was standing. A quiet settled over the arena as Todoroki stared at the mountain of frost he had created.
Midnight raised her arm, but before she could declare the match, a hand shot out of the ground, wrapping around Todoroki's ankle. It pulled with all its might, pulling itself out of the ground, and in front of Todoroki. Arséne grabbed the boy before he could react, and tossed him towards the tomb of ice.
By the time Todoroki had turned to see the incoming obstacle, Izuku had burst from the ice, readying a punch towards his opponent. For the second time, the arena was encased in ice, though it was once again quickly shattered.
The bursts of frost and fire continued to light up the arena, the sight not giving the audience a chance to see the two boys within. High up in the stands, a rather passionate group of teenagers watched, their shouts of encouragement drawing a few eyes from the crowd, one of which seemed more intrigued than the others.
"You're all quite excited aren't you." A hoodie-wearing man approached. He was young, no more than 20, though he his skin had aged poorly. He dropped into the chair next to Futaba, slouching heavily as he did. The friendly facade vanished as his hand wrapped around her neck, his pinky finger hovering in the air.
"What are you-!"
"Now now, you wouldn't want to cause a scene would you." A disturbing chuckle rose from his throat. "You have no idea who could get hurt." His grip tightened. "Besides, I'm just an old friend you happened to run into."
"What do you want!" Makoto's stern voice challenged the man, the rest of the group watching anxiously.
"The brat down there, green hair. You lot seem like big fans of his. I just want to know a few things."
"W-why do you think we'd tell you anything?" To the villain's surprise, the girl who he had hostage spoke up, though even Tomura's limited social skills could tell she wasn't confident.
"A NPC like you really can't say much, especially considering your situation." The hand tightened further. Tomura turned to the rest, his eyes occasionally flicking towards the fight. "That kid, what's so interesting about him?"
The thieves paused for a short moment, though none seemed to come up with any solutions to their predicament. "Define interesting." Makoto's message reached the rest, they had no choice but to talk.
"It's master. All he ever talks about is that brat. About how the creature in his head wants him dead. He's nothing like he used to be, ranting about other worlds and special powers. So what does that kid have to do with anything?"
"Well..." The pause caused a spike in Tomura's frustration. "Those shadows he gave you are connected to that other world... Midoriya has one of those powers."
"I see. Sensei found a hidden area, and got some skill points, in exchange for killing that brat. So if I kill that brat, that thing in master's head will go away, and he'll focus on me again." His free hand slipped into his hood, scratching his neck. "You NPC's have given me a brilliant new quest."
"That's not what- you can't-"
The hand gripped even harder: "Can't what? I could end this little chat now if I wanted." The pinky finger moved closer, but halted as something pressed into Tomura's back. It was circular, and cold to the touch, sending a significant message to the villain.
"Even if it meant you dying." The voice belonged to a gruff man, a long trench coat hung around his form, concealing the gun he pressed to the villain's back. "I ain't got the standing with the police to get you arrested. Normally I'd just ignore something like this, put you picked on the wrong group. So scram, before I make sure you never move again." Red eyes stared down grey, before Tomura stood, pacing towards the hallway, his gaze remaining on the former Yakuza in front of him, before he vanished into the crowds.
"Wait! Your the untouchable guy!" Ryujji called out, taking in the now familiar figure of the shop owner.
"Yep. I came to check out how the kid was doing, wasn't expecting to threaten someone." He turned to the others, a critical stare passing over them. "Most of us haven't been acquainted. I'm Munehisa Iwai, I supplied you your weapons last year."
Flakes of dead skin drifted to the ground as Tomura passed through the portal, muttering complaints about his current situation. He slid into one of the bar stools, eyes locking onto the TV that displayed the sports festival. The fight had paused, words were exchanged between the two fighters, but they did not reach the ears of the audience.
The arena once again burst into flames, though this time it originated from the other child. "What troubles you, Tomura?" Master's voice spoke from the TV, the heavy breathing of his respiratory following.
"The green haired one, let me kill him."
"Have patience young Tomura. He will not live for long." Tomura remained silent, his glare shifting back to the screen, displaying Midoriya standing alone within the destroyed arena, his body covered in various burns.
"It's your fault." Tomura muttered. "You're the reason why master doesn't care anymore." A hand lunged towards the TV, the metal decaying under Tomura's fingers. "Kurogiri." The bartender finished clearing the former TV, and turned towards his superior.
"Gather all the shadows, we're going to the festival."
"Young Tomura, Sensei wouldn't-"
"Let him have his fun, Kurogiri. It will make no difference in the long term."
"Of course, master."