"Right," Shinso replied, his fingers, which were laced together in his lap, twitching softly. His eyes rested on his best friend, Izuku Midoryia, who stared at the notebook he held loosely in his hands, his green eyes darting around the pages. "I'll remember that. Thank you," Shinso finished, his mind reeling from all the new information Izuku had just given him.

Shinso's gaze dipped to Midoryia's hands, which were covered in bandages. The green-haired boy normally wrapped cloths around both forearms, but now the wraps extended to his hands, covering the burns Todoroki had inflicted during the second round of the Sports Festival.

Why won't he go to Recovery Girl? Shinso glanced again at Midoryia's face, noticing that his eyes were unfocused, a sure sign that he was off in his own world and had probably not even heard Shinso's words. I'm sure it's excruciating.

Present Mic shouted into the intercom that Bakugo had won against one of his classmates in class 1-A, and Izuku's bright green eyes darted to Shinso's, although neither of them were surprised.

Shinso sighed as Present Mic announced that the next match would take place between Bakugo and himself. This Bakugo kid is bad news. "I hope I can keep my end of our deal," Shinso said out loud, interjected a small laugh into his voice in an effort to keep his nervousness at bay.

Izuku's eyebrows furrowed for a moment before recognition dawned, and he laughed, a smile easing onto his face. "I'm sure you will! Bakugo isn't hard to deal with once you know his tricks." He snapped the notebook shut and turned around to tuck it into his backpack, continuing with, "You probably won't need most of the stuff I told you anyway. Bakugo's such a loud-mouth; you won't have any trouble getting him to talk to you."

If he managed to make it to the last round, surely he's smarter than Midoryia is giving him credit for . . . but, then again, this is Midoryia we're talking about. "I trust you," Shinso declared, cementing his decision in his mind.

Izuku chuckled, his eyes sparkling as he turned back to Shinso. "Don't say it like that! You're making it sound like I'm asking you to jump off of a cliff."

Shinso shook his head, waiting for Izuku's laughter to die down before adding, "I'm glad I never said anything about my quirk to Ida. His hesitance to face me head-on is the only reason I won." The last round still hadn't quite registered in Shinso's mind. He hadn't expected to win against Ida—but once again, with Izuku's guidance, he had defeated his opponent, and now he was entering the final round—and had at the very least guaranteed himself a spot in second place. It was all too surreal.

"Don't sell yourself short," Izuku muttered, his face suddenly screwed up in concentration, the look he always got whenever he was thinking deeply. "The Sports Festival isn't really a fair fight. In the real world, you'd have the Binding Cloth and the Persona Chords, and with those, you'd win even if Ida knew your quirk inside and out."

"I guess." Shinso scratched the back of his neck and stood, and Izuku did the same.

"You'll see." Izuku chuckled as he picked up his backpack and slipped his arms into the straps. "Once you're in the same class, you can spar with Ida to your heart's content."

Why are you so confident? The question lingered on Shinso's tongue, but he swallowed it down. He knew why Midoryia was so confident about Shinso's victory. With a strategic mind like Midoryia's on my side, how could I lose? Shinso examined Izuku's back as he walked to the door. His gait was loose and relaxed, but there was something tense about the way he held himself, a tightness that had persisted ever since the Sports Festival had began. Perhaps it was stress, but Shinso didn't think so. To him, it seemed like the poise and readiness of a warrior expecting a battle. I bet he's an amazing fighter. I wonder why he refuses to show me his skills.

The two exited the room, and Shinso followed Izuku to the edge of the arena. Bakugo was still standing in the ring, probably not having left after his last match. Shinso still had a few minutes before he needed to enter the arena, but he didn't see any reason to wait any longer if his opponent was already waiting for him.

"I'll see you after the match." Izuku raised a hand as he turned on his heel to depart. "I'll be watching from the stands with the others."

"Thank you," Shinso replied, and Izuku locked eyes with him, his green eyes darkening. Izuku nodded, a faint smile gracing his face, and Shinso released an internal sigh of relief at the show of understanding. I'm lucky, he thought as he faced back toward the arena, adjusted his clothes as if that would help him in the upcoming match. If he had held a grudge after our fight, I . . . Anyone else probably would have.

Dust rose from the ground as Shinso strode into the arena, the warm sunlight caressing his cheeks as he stepped into view of the crowd. Their answering roar filled his ears, and he tilted his head toward the stands of the General Studies class just in time to see Izuku sidle into his seat beside Uraraka. Ida, for whatever reason, wasn't present, but Shinso didn't have the time to worry about that now. Uraraka cheered something Shinso couldn't hear, while Izuku merely shifted forward in his seat, his focus on the other side of the arena.

Following his gaze, a chill went down Shinso's spine as he caught sight of his opponent: Katsuki Bakugo. He stood inside of the battle court, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other hanging at his side. His head was tilted, and on his face he wore a deranged grin, almost as if he was fantasizing about tearing Shinso apart. His red eyes seemed to sear a hole right through Shinso, and he swallowed down his fear.

He radiates hatred. Shinso kept his face steady as he too entered the arena and came to a halt, waiting for Present Mic to count them into the battle. It's truly unfair that a person like him . . . Shinso shook his head, halting the thought in its tracks. Focus, Hitoshi.

"Hey!" Bakugo shouted, and Shinso's head shot up, his eyes widening. "Aren't you the freak that was with Deku earlier?"

I didn't expect him to start the conversation. Shinso closed his eyes briefly, thinking back on Midoryia's lecture covering Bakugo and his personality. Thanks to him, I know exactly how to play this. He opened his eyes to see Bakugo's glare increase in intensity, causing a vein to pop out in his neck.

"Don't ignore me!" Bakugo roared, just as Present Mic began his countdown into the match.

Shinso shook his head and began to circle Bakugo, who matched the movement, his eyebrows drawing low over his eyes. "What makes me anymore of a freak than you?"

"Hanging out with that quirkless loser makes you a freak."

"Heroes are supposed to protect everybody, including the quirkless." Shinso stopped, tilting his head as he scanned Bakugo up and down. "Midoryia was right. You aren't a hero at all, are you? You're more of a villain."

"Begin!" Present Mic's roar perfectly matched up with Bakugo's as he rushed toward Shinso, sparks flying from his palms.

Just as Midoryia had taught him, Shinso dodged the first attack, and the second, and the third. Bakugo paused after his third failed attempt, his eyes bloodshot as he examined Shinso up and down.

"Finished already?" Shinso prodded, and Bakugo growled, his mouth pulling into a grotesque frown.

"DIE!" he roared, lunging toward Shinso once again, but Shinso held up his hand, his face calm.

"Stop," he commanded, and the boy came to a halt just before his fist connected with Shinso's face, the sparks surrounding him fizzling into nothing. Shinso backed away from Bakugo, circling around him until he stood behind his opponent. Bringing up his hand, he snapped, and his hold on the boy released, leaving Bakugo to stumble to the ground somewhere behind him.

Shinso smirked at the crowd, not even turning his head to track Bakugo's movement. "Really?" he shouted toward the crowd. "I thought you'd put up more of a fight."

Hearing shuffling sounds behind him, Shinso turned on his heel to see Bakugo glaring him, although his mouth was squeezed closed, no doubt meant to prevent himself from falling into Shinso's Brainwashing again. Perhaps he's actually figured it out.

"Even Midoryia, quirkless as he is, was more of a challenging opponent than you." Shinso raised his hands into a shrug and fixed Bakugo with a look drenched in pity. "Would you like to try again?"

Bakugo's face darkened to a deep red, and he immediately launched himself into the air with his quirk, blasting hot air into Shinso's face as he rose high above the arena. Shinso followed his motion, blinking to clear the sand from his eyes. His opponent kept rising until he was almost a speck in Shinso's vision, and Shinso frowned. Is that even allowed?

Then, all of a sudden, the speck that was Bakugo began to grow, rapidly coming back into view. A strangled scream ripped from Bakugo's throat, and large explosions emerging from his left hand propelled his journey back to the ground. His right hand raised as if to strike, and an extremely large spark formed in front of it, pointing directly at Shinso.

A sense of unease rippled through Shinso's stomach, but he held his ground and smirked at the oncoming attacker, locking eyes with the red-eyed menace that seemed set on destroying him. Those eyes twitched at the sight of Shinso's expression, and his mouth twisted.

"SHUT UP!" Bakugo yelled just before he collided with Shinso, the words almost unintelligible over the roar of his fire.

"Boom," Shinso muttered, making the shape of an explosion with his hands. Bakugo's left hand swung forward, forcing him away from Shinso just as the spark held in his right hand exploded, sending a shock-wave through the arena. Bakugo careened backward, his eyes rolling into his head as he flew through the air, having caught the full force of his own blast. Shinso shielded his eyes as heat passed over him, almost too hot to bear.

That was close. Shinso exhaled a shaky breath, releasing his cocky grin for a moment as he checked to make sure he was still in one piece. After assuring himself that he wasn't injured, he raised his head to look in Bakugo's direction, seeing nothing but a cloud of dust from where he had hit the ground. Surely that knocked him out . . . Or maybe he flew out of the arena?

Regardless, Shinso swung around and raised his arms to the crowd, who, after a moment of shocked silence, burst into cheers, no doubt thinking the round had come to an end.

"Behold, your second-place contestant!" Shinso yelled, hoping the mics surrounding the arena would pick up his voice at this volume. He gestured back to the cloud of dust behind him as he declared, "Katsuki Bakugo—a completely worthless loser!"

"Don't get cocky!" The shout came from behind, and Shinso spun, an eyebrow raised. The dust cloud thinned, revealing an extremely wounded, but nonetheless-on-his-feet Bakugo.

The boy held up both of his fists, the determined gleam in his eyes no less strong than it had been at the start of the match despite the blood streaming down his face and arms. "This isn't over yet," he hissed.

Shinso lowed his arms and tilted his head, somehow not surprised. "You're resilient—I'll give you that. But how can you expect to beat me if you keep falling for the same trick?"

"And how do you expect to win if you don't use that pathetic trick of yours to take me out of the arena?" Bakugo's eye twitched, and he spat blood onto the ground before he met Shinso's gaze, his eyes lit from within. "Each time you use that power of yours, it gets weaker. Soon, you'll have no choice but to forfeit."

Shinso scratched his head. I guess I can see how he thinks that. In a normal match, I would've eliminated him the first time I Brainwashed him if I could've . . . but there's something he hasn't accounted for. Shinso shrugged. "I guess there's only one way to find out if you're wrong." Adopting his battle pose, Shinso gestured for Bakugo to attack.

Bakugo's eyebrow furrowed, and this time his mouth remained closed as he rushed toward Shinso, his fist raised and sparks flying. There was no way Shinso could trick him again. This time, there would be no Brainwashing, no last minute trick to save his life and the match.

But, luckily for Shinso, he hadn't planned on using Brainwashing to win in the first place. Bakugo drew closer, his right fist arcing through the air on a collision course with Shinso's face. Shinso slid to the left to avoid the blast of Bakugo's quirk before bending his knees in preparation. Wrapping his hands around Bakugo's arm, he pivoted and curled his back, putting all of his strength into heaving Bakugo's body over his shoulder.

Two weeks of hard training with Eraser Head paid off as Shinso lifted Bakugo off his feet and swung him through the air, using Bakugo's forward momentum as leverage. The boy's mouth popped open in surprise just before his back made contact with the ground, and he let out a choked grunt as he slammed into the dirt.

"MATCH!" Present Mic yelled, and Shinso straightened as the sounds of the arena flooded back into his ears, his concentration broken now that the battle was finished. The crowd began to chant his name, and Present Mic excitedly proclaimed that Hitoshi Shinso had won the Sports Festival.

Twisting his head, Bakugo glared at the bright white line that he now laid across, having been placed there by Shinso's final move. His eyes were drawn back to Shinso as he leaned over his opponent for one last exchange.

"'Katsuki Bakugo starts every fight with a strong right hook,'" Shinso recalled, allowing his face to crease into a villainous smirk. "I think you can guess who told me that." He straightened, gazing down at Bakugo, who gaped at him in a mixture of rage and surprise. "See you around, Kaachan."

—

"Hah . . . hah, hah, hah." The laugh drew itself from Izuku's lips as he stared into the arena. Shinso turned away from the prone Bakugo, and the latter jumped to his feet immediately in an attempt to attack his opponent from behind. Security, however, jumped in almost immediately, almost as if they expected an altercation, and wrestled him to the ground. For his part, Shinso didn't look back, his shadowed eyes set on the exit several staff members ushered him toward.

"Haha. Hahahaha," Midoryia continued, the sound flat even to his own ears. His mouth hung open in a gleeful grin, and his eyes were wide as he sought to burn every detail of the moment into his memory.

"Uh . . . Izuku?" Uraraka asked, her voice soft. Her face came into view as she leaned forward to look in Izuku's face. "Are you okay?"

"HAHAHAHA." Izuku's shoulder shook uncontrollably, and his grin grew even wider as his laughter began to escalate. Down below, the security personnel forced a set of thick metal shackles onto Bakugo's hands, followed by chains to assist in dragging him from the arena.

"Izuku?" Uraraka snapped her fingers in front of Izuku's face, her eyebrows drawing low over her eyes. "You're starting to scare me."

Izuku's maniacal laughter continued for a few moments before he managed to get out, "Aha . . . . He won!" he declared. He shook his head as laughter continued to pour from his throat. "I'm just so happy. Hahhh. I have felt this happy since . . ." Izuku stopped and gave in to his mirth, curling at his middle and allowing his joy to overcome him as his entire body shook. "HAHAHAHAHA!" he yelled into the floor, his head hanging between his knees.

"I'm happy for him too," Uraraka replied, the reply hesitant. Her hand patted him on the back a few times.

Izuku shook his head but didn't attempt to say anything else as he relished the image of Bakugo lying on his back, utterly defeated—not by a quirk, but by a simple shoulder-throw. Oh, I wish it had been me! His laughter died down to chuckles, and he wiped at the tears that coursed down his face with his bandages. I hope he reacts the same way when I finally have the chance to defeat him. I hope he gives me that same haughty, angry look when I slit his throat. Shoving his hand into his mouth, Izuku swallowed a hiccup, no doubt caused by his raucous laughter. I can't wait to see his anger turn to disbelief, then back to rage. He hiccuped again at the thought, his teeth baring into a twisted grin around his fist. And then . . . the life will drain out of his eyes, and I'll never have to feel that hateful gaze again. That will be the best day of my life.

Izuku straightened, smoothing out his hair as best as he could with his damaged hands and ensuring his face was dry, although he couldn't quite wipe off the massive grin covering his face. One day, he promised himself, easing himself back into his seat. But for now, this is enough. I am absolutely brilliant!

"Sorry," he breathed, releasing another quick giggle before settling completely. "I'm just glad it's over now," he admitted.

Uraraka smiled back, but in her eyes, Izuku could sense something off. "Me too."

"Hm," Izuku turned his face away, mostly to hide the smile that he couldn't shake. "I hope Ida's brother is alright," he muttered, guessing that was what was bothering her. Apparently, Ida had told Uraraka that a villain had gotten to his brother before leaving the Sports Festival early.

"Me too," Uraraka murmured.

"Did he say which villain it was?"

"No." Uraraka shifted in her chair. "He doesn't know anything, just that his brother is in the hospital."

Izuku's eyes narrowed, and his smile stiffened. It couldn't be . . . could it? Ingenium was one of the ones I . . . no, probably not. Shaking his head, Izuku shrugged. I made sure to tie up that loose end. He's probably just unlucky. "Ingenium is a pro hero . . . I'm sure his family has gotten him the best care imaginable. He'll be okay." He turned his head to smile at Uraraka, who smiled back, although hers was much less enthusiastic.

"I hope you're right, Izuku."

The crowd roared, and the two of them turned back to the arena in time to see the top three contestants rise into the arena on top of some sort of platform to the accompaniment of loud music and confetti. Midnight excitedly announced their names, and Izuku rolled his eyes.

Why are heroes so extra? His eyes darted to Bakugo, and his large grin crept back onto his face at the sight of the young boy. He stood shackled to a slab of concrete, with metal constraints covering his hands to prevent him from using his quirk. A large muzzle covered his mouth, and he strained against his restraints, his eyes practically popping out of his head in his anger. Izuku couldn't hear him, but he could imagine the curses he was attempting to spout off underneath the muzzle.

Muzzled and chained up just like the dog you are, Bakugo. Izuku smirked, his head tilting forward. Learn your place, trash.

"Of course, there's no one else more qualified to give out the awards than . . ." Midnight gestured to the sky, and the crowd went wild as All Might himself rose from behind the arena. Izuku's smile slipped off of his face, and he stared at the hero, his gaze suddenly unfocused.

"Is it possible to become a hero even if I don't have a quirk?" The voice was sudden, instinctual almost.

Stop it. Izuku shook his head and lowered his gaze to the floor. Think about something else. Anything else.

"I'm a normal kid with without any powers . . ."

I said, stop it! Pain rippled up his arms as he clenched his hands tightly against each other, his burned skin tearing at the pressure. Snap out of it. I don't care.

"Could I ever hope to be someone like you?"

Never. Izuku opened his eyes and looked back at the arena, where All Might stood, currently conversing with the third place contestant. The microphones didn't pick up what he was saying, but Izuku could guess what it was.

"Congratulations . . . Here's some tips . . . I'm so proud . . ." Something like that. Even Izuku's internal voice was coated with spite, and he clung to it, hoping it would be enough.

All Might bent to hug the third place student, and Izuku's heart began to pound painfully. Gasping, he pressed his fist to his chest. Don't—

"Can you be a hero? Not without a quirk." It was All Might's voice, repeating the phrase that haunted Izuku's nightmares, and hated more than anything.

"Stop it," Izuku hissed. A sharp, boiling ache shot through his chest, and his heart constricted as his vision began to fade. "Shut up!" He bent over in his seat, struggling to keep his pain in check.

"Make sure your dream are realistic—obtainable."

Izuku's jaw clenched, and he bared his teeth at the ground as it slowly faded into oblivion "My dream . . . my dream is—" His lungs failed him, and he opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

"You put yourself and your friend in danger . . . You don't have a quirk. You're not a hero."

"Izuku?" Fingers lightly brushed his back, and Izuku jolted upright, his heart rate spiking. Sweet, refreshing air flooded into his lungs, and he drew in a rasping breath.

"Yeah?" he asked, his voice hoarse from lack of oxygen. He coughed and sucked in another breath, his vision clearing enough to see Uraraka staring at him with worried eyes.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her mouth twisted into a frown, and Izuku noticed that her hand still rested on his back, although now she gripped onto his shirt tightly, and he detected a slight tremor in her hand.

"Yeah, sure," he replied, his heart rate slowly returning to normal as he focused not on the arena, but on the girl sitting next to him, who, he noticed for the first time, was rather . . . cute. "I am now." His eyes widened as his voice reached his ears, and he grimaced. "Uh, thanks," he muttered quickly as her face flushed. "Sometimes I have panic attacks." Clearing his throat, he turned his gaze away, his cheeks burning a bright red.

Crap, I spoke without thinking. Izuku's eyes turned to the sky, and he blinked. Then again, it's better than accidentally yelling out that my dream is to kill All Might.

"You know you can always talk to me, right?" Uraraka's hand slipped from the back of his shirt to his shoulder, and she squeezed softly. "Or if you ever need a hug, or just someone to sit with . . ."

"Thanks," Izuku responded quickly, wanting to stop her before things got even more awkward. "I appreciate it." He glanced at the hand she still kept on his shoulder before raising his own hand to rest on top of hers even as his face tingled with a violent blush.

Uraraka's flushed cheeks glowed as she grinned at him, and Izuku's lips twitched into a soft smile. She opened her mouth, but a loud noise from the crowd startled both of them, and their gazes turned back to the arena. The spectators around them screamed in excitement as Midnight declared that the Sports Festival was officially over, thanking the contestants for their participation.

The noise level in the arena rose as the students rose to filter into the arena to congratulate their classmates, and many watching stood to leave, creating traffic jams near the exits. Others still sat at their seats, chatting idly with their neighbors, or staring at the students in the arena as if waiting for a final crumb of entertainment.

Izuku jumped to his feet. "Come on, let's go see Shinso." He took a step forward before turning around and offering his hand to Uraraka, who had already stood. He lowered his hand and spun again, his heart racing as he hurried to the arena entrance.

I did it! Izuku celebrated internally, grinning as he dodged through the crowds of students. I hope All For One understands how hard I worked for this.

A flash of purple caught Izuku's eye, and he turned his head to see Shinso surrounded by a crowd of people, a mix of students and reporters, probably there to make nice with the Sports Festival champion.

"SHINSO!" Izuku yelled, shoving through the crowd to reach his best friend's side. Shinso spun at the sound of his name, his eyes widening.

"You did it!" Izuku yelled as he slid to a stop in front of Shinso. He jumped up and down in excitement, pumping his fist in the air. "That was awesome!"

A soft smile bloomed on his face, and Shinso scratched the back of his neck before gesturing for the two of them to retreat from the gaggle of people surrounding him. "I'm glad you liked it." He paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he stared at Izuku through the corner of his eyes. "Did you see . . ." His voice trailed off, and he frowned.

I guess it's sort of awkward to say out loud. "Yeah, I did." Izuku's face stretched into a smile that didn't feel comfortable but was entirely genuine. "Thank you, Shinso. You really did me justice." Even though Shinso could've ended the match easily with his quirk, instead he had chosen to take Bakugo out with a move anyone could execute, even a quirkless boy like Izuku. It was clear that Shinso had wanted to thoroughly humiliate Bakugo while also sending him a clear message about Izuku.

He must've been planning that for a while. I had no idea. I thought he would just use my advice to win, but in the end, he repaid me for helping him. Izuku's body relaxed for the first time that day, the stress of the Festival finally sloughing from his shoulders. I guess that's what friends do. Izuku blinked at the thought, somewhat surprised. Friends . . . He mulled the word over in his mind, unsure what to make of it.

"It should've been you," Shinso replied, drawing Izuku from his thoughts. "But I made sure Bakugo knew who I got those moves from."

Izuku's grin grew, and Shinso blinked at the sight of it, clearly uncomfortable by the manic edge he found there. Izuku didn't bother to hide the deranged expression, knowing that, at this point, his happiness could not be contained. So Bakugo knows I was the one who really defeated him. Izuku chuckled and brought up a hand to smother the sound. I knew this would feel good, but I had no idea it would feel this good.

"You might have some problems with him because of it though." Shinso frowned and glanced around the arena, as if he expected Bakugo to attack at that very moment. "If he tries to mess with you, let me know." They exited the crowded arena and entered the more secluded hallways, although even here there were groups of students speaking with their friends or parents.

"You don't have to worry about me," Izuku responded as they came to a halt. "I can handle Bakugo on my own."

"I know." Shinso met Izuku's eyes, his purple eyes dull. "But you shouldn't have to."

Izuku opened his mouth, but he closed it immediately after, at a loss for words. A strange emotion flooded over him, and his eyes began to sting. What is this? Izuku pressed a fist to his chest, marveling at the warmth blossoming from within. Last time I felt like this was when I talked with Eraser Head outside of UA, but I can't identify the emotion. It's . . . not bad, at least. "I guess you're right." Meeting Shinso's eyes, Izuku smiled, the genuine expression foreign to his muscles. "Thanks. I—" Izuku blinked and cut himself off. "I'll keep that in mind," he finished, amending his unspoken thought.

What was I about to say? "I'm glad we're friends?" Izuku grimaced internally. He's one of them. We could never be friends.

"Where's Uraraka and Ida?" Shinso asked, his head swiveling as he searched the crowd.

Grateful for the change of subject, Izuku pointed to Uraraka, where she stood speaking with the third place contestant. "Uraraka's over there speaking with her classmates. Ida . . . well, his brother actually is in the hospital, so he left a while ago."

Shinso's head jerked around to stare at Izuku. "What? What happened?"

Izuku shrugged, his face drooping into a frown. "I'm not sure. Ida just said a villain got to him, but he didn't know anything else."

"Will he be okay?"

"I don't know."

A long moment of silence stretched between them, and Izuku interrupted it with, "Ingenium will be treated by the best of the best. I'm sure he'll recover." He smiled at Shinso, who gave him an answering mouth twitch. "In the meantime, let's just be there for him." Izuku smirked, quickly following up with, "Aaaand celebrate the first place winner of the Sports Festival!" Pumping his fist into the air, Izuku yelled as loud as he could, "Let's go General Course!"

Shinso laughed and shook his head, but he raised his fist along with Izuku, repeating his words with admittedly less gusto. Izuku gestured for him to follow, and they joined Uraraka and her classmates, who immediately accepted the two into their group, talking and laughing about how the Festival had gone.

Izuku participated in the inane chatter, pleased to see that everything had worked out just the way he had planned, perhaps even better in some ways. After the long day, Izuku was just glad that it was over, and he found himself enjoying the opportunity to relax.

But . . . there was one thing bothering him, and Izuku's narrowed eyes scanned the crowd once more, his lips pressing into a thin line.

Where is Bakugo?

—

Okay, there will be one more chapter about the Sports Festival showing the immediate aftermath. This was supposed to be the last chapter of the arc, but then I realized I still had a ton of stuff I wanted to do and this chapter was already long enough. Plus, I didn't want to make you guys wait any longer.

I probably misspelled someone's name this chapter; I can feel it in my writer-sense. LMK if you find any errors.

If you liked this chapter, please show your support by liking, commenting, voting, etc . . . And check out my other writings at my website Salandrawolfe. com or looking up my name "Salandra Wolfe." I have written other fanfics, so check those out on my profile if you'd like. If you have any cool ideas you want me to write, shoot me a DM.

Thanks,

Sally