A boy with ear-length blond hair and blue eyes sat at a fold-out table, a smirk on his face as he watched the miniature TV in Class 1 – B's prep room. He had seen the previous two battles before the one that finished in the crowd, but didn't want to be exposed to the same air as that murderer whilst watching her battle, so he decided to watch it in a place where he knew her stench would never touch.
He had to admit, he wasn't exactly wrong to think that those battles were leagues better than this one. After all, it was hard to follow the fight when one person was seemingly doing nothing and still winning. It also didn't help that said person who was winning the fight was a convicted murderer, but that was neither here nor there.
That was something he couldn't get over. If she was a convicted murderer—or at the very least had first degree murder and 2nd degree manslaughter charges on her record—shouldn't she be in tartarus instead of here? What was the point? It wasn't like the HSPC would honestly let someone like her become a hero after she graduated.
Right?
The boy in question had his hair combed back—something he did when he was slightly nervous—his blue eyes cascading a condescending glance around the room as he looked away from the T.V. and over at his opponent, to which the moment he did the condescendance left his eyes immediately. He was wearing the U.A. tracksuit, as did every other contender of The Sports Festival, and his skin was a touch paler than most of his classmates.
The way he sat made him look like the height of royalty, although he was, in fact, a middle-class citizen. Then again, who wouldn't want to at least pretend that they're rich? At least he wasn't dirt poor. Yet, despite this front of a snarky, condescending personality, Neito Monoma knew very well that his opponent, Itsuka Kendo, was someone to respect.
In fact, his whole class were people who he elected to respect. They were the misfits. They weren't the "main characters" so to speak. Class 1 – A ensured that thanks to their whole wack-ass ensemble of people.
Hell, they survived a villain attack, and now they had a killer in their midst. In the beginning, he saw both their classes as equal. But now? Now that they were harbouring a murderer? He saw them as lesser.
And who wouldn't? Someone who killed someone, villain or otherwise, was themselves a villain. That was a human life they ended. Regardless of who they were, their life mattered. At least, depending on the crime. As far as Neito was concerned, if the villain's crime was the rape of a child or the mass-murdering of a public place, then at that point that villain's death was deserved.
Innocent people, on the other hand? Well, that was a completely different story for very obvious reasons. Killing the people you were meant to protect? That was spitting on the idea of being a Hero. He assumed that Yoshihara Kira would've been expelled by now. And yet, here she was, claiming to be something she wasn't. A fake. A fraud.
She needed to be put in her place.
While he didn't believe in Stain's ideology, he had to admit that it fit well here. While his next opponent wasn't Yoshihara Kira—that was still yet to be decided—should she happen to be, he needed to come up with a strategy to beat her.
But that could wait until after he beat and or lost to Kendo-san. If he lost, he'd help her devise a plan. If she lost, then he didn't have to do that, and he could just copy someone's Quirk so that he didn't have to worry about anything.
"Would the next fighters please come to the arena? I repeat. Would the next pair of fighters please come to the arena? The next round is about to begin," Eraserhead's voice came in over the speakers, which was their cue to head out to the battlefield.
Neito sighed, standing up as he dusted off his gym uniform. His Copy Quirk was pretty overpowered, all things considered. Anyone he touched, with a few exceptions, he could copy the Quirk of for 5 minutes. Currently, he decided to copy Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu's Quirk: Steel Body.
His reasoning for copying it was that it would make him sturdy enough to contend against Kendo's Big Fist Quirk. If she tried to shove him out of the arena, he could just become Steel and stand his ground. Not to mention his steel fists would hurt a hell of a lot more than her fists against his steel skin.
In other words, he picked the Quirk that would completely counter hers. Just because they were classmates didn't mean he was going to make this a fair fight. He, like everyone else in The Sports Festival, wanted to win. If he was going to win, he would win by any means necessary.
And so, as he walked onto the arena, he watched Kendo come onto the battlefield. There was a look of determination in her eyes, as did he. They were the only two in Class 1 – B to make it this far. He knew only one of them was going to continue to the next round, and he was going to make damn sure it was him who did.
Kendo might've been the class's president, but he was their strongest classmate outside of Shishida and her. And it wasn't as if that was something he thought up to boost his ego. It was simply the truth. With his ability to copy a majority of all Quirks on the planet, he was quite literally what one might call a jack of all trades.
He didn't care if the people of his middle school saw him as nothing more than just a copycat who had no ability of his own. He didn't care if he wasn't unique compared to literally anyone else. He was Neito, goddamn motherfucking Monoma. He was the best. He didn't need a unique Quirk to prove that to himself.
It was why he had to win. It was why he had to top the charts at The Sports Festival. It was why he had to utterly destroy his classmate in no uncertain terms.
He would prove to Japan, no, the world that he was the one they should have their eyes on. Not some green-haired, flashy, quirked-up twink, and most definitely not some fucking murderer.
While he only had a five-minute time limit with each Quirk he copied, he could theoretically increase the time limit by copying Quirks back to back. He mentioned it to his teacher, Vlad King-Sensei, when he thought of ways to train his Quirk.
For now, five minutes would have to do. It would be more than enough to defeat Kendo. She might've been a good fighter, but steel was still steel. She was strong, there was no doubt about it, but she couldn't dent steel yet. She had actually been training with Tetsutetsu to be able to do that sort of thing, but his Quirk was still just barely out of her league.
Which was exactly why he chose to copy it.
"FROM ONE EXCITING MATCH TO ANOTHER, PEOPLE OF THE CROWD, FOR ROUND 4 OF THE QUARTER-FINALS WE HAVE TWO CONTENDERS WHO ARE CONSIDERED THE UNDERDOGS OF U.A.! ON THE RIGHT, WE HAVE SOMEONE WHO CAN AND WILL SHOW YOU THAT THROWING HANDS WITH THEM WOULD BE A BAD IDEA, IT'S KENDO ITSUKA FROM CLASS 1 – B!" Present Mic shouted as the crowd roared with applause and cheers. "AND ON THE LEFT, WE HAVE SOMEONE WHOSE QUIRK IS ALWAYS CHANGING—SOME SAY HE'S A QUIRK THIEF, BUT THAT'S ENTIRELY UNFOUNDED. IT'S MONOMA NEITO, ALSO FROM CLASS 1 – B!" Once more, the crowd cheered and filled with applause.
Neito had to admit that Present Mic wasn't wrong. Although he just wished he didn't include that "quirk thief" bit. He wasn't stealing Quirks. He was copying them. It wasn't theft if he was only borrowing their abilities while leaving them with their originals. That was something he was told a lot in middle school. That he was a Quirk Thief.
"Well, look who made it to U.A.? It wasn't any of them. It was me. I made it. Not them. I did it with my own merit and skill! I will show that today, as I've shown it my entire life!" Neito thought, keeping his toxic thoughts to himself as he calmed himself.
Kendo bowed, as did he to show respect. Then, Present Mic gave the word, the horn sounded, and the fight began.
Kendo wasted no time in closing the distance, enlarging her fists. Neito activated the copy of Steel, his skin hardening to its shiny reflective state, which gleamed in the sunlight. Kendo's enlarged fist made contact with him, but it did nothing but shake his stance and daze him for a split second.
"So you copied Tetsutetsu's Quirk?" Kendo questioned, earning a smirk from Neito.
"It directly counters you in many ways, Kendo-san," Neito responded, delivering a quick jab to her gut, knocking her back and making her gag. Her fist deflated. This time, it was Neito who closed the distance and slammed a steel fist once again into her gut, knocking her to the ground. He placed a foot on her stomach, applying barely any pressure so as to not hurt her too badly, as he smirked. "You know you can't win. So why don't you forfeit?"
Kendo attempted to get up, and in response Neito leaned forward just a little bit, applying a small amount of pressure on her stomach, smirking as Kendo coughed. "I give up," she groaned, slapping the ground as Midnight nodded.
"Itsuka Kendo Forfeits the battle! The automatic winner of the round is Neito Monoma!" Midnight announced as Neito took his foot off of her, deactivating Steel. He reached out to help Kendo up off the ground, who took it without hesitation. Her green eyes looked into his as he smiled.
"Sorry 'bout that, I just had to win," Neito said as Kendo scoffed. Neito frowned, slipping his hands into his pockets. "What? I'm not lying, am I?"
"Your Quirk is a walking cheat code. I knew you were going to pick something that would counter me. But I had to try, ya know?" Kendo said, punching him in the shoulder.
Neito stifled a laugh as the pair left the arena through the same gate. His opponent in the next round was going to be the murderer. He still had no idea what her Quirk was or how to counter it.
At first, he thought it was some variant of Bakugo Katsuki's Quirk that used bubbles instead of the palm of her hands. But, as Kuroiro had been quick to correct when they next met up, apparently, it wasn't just that. He felt something grab his throat and slam him into the ground. As if she had something invisible that none of them could see.
He usually didn't believe a word Kuroiro said, especially because he was known to be a chronic liar and tended to exaggerate a bit when he spoke about things. Shiozaki was able to corroborate his testimony, having faced the murderer in All Out War.
That made things a little bit more complicated. What was he supposed to do if that was true, and if that thing was invisible? You couldn't fight what you couldn't see, after all. His best bet was closing the distance and knocking the murderer out before she was able to set anything up.
However, he did notice that Tokoyami Fumikage's Dark Shadow seemed to be able to fight whatever that invisible thing was head-on. It was a shame that Neito couldn't copy Quirks tied to mutations. Otherwise, he would've immediately gone to Kamakiri to copy his Mantis Blades Quirk.
"But, that doesn't stop me from copying Transformation Type Quirks… Actually, that could work!" Neito thought as a smirk formed on his lips. He had an idea, and considering that she was walking next to him….
He glanced over to Kendo and tapped her on her shoulder, catching her attention. "Hope you don't mind, but I'm gonna copy your Quirk for the next round. It should be enough to defeat… her," Neito said as Kendo grimaced, nodding.
"Show her no mercy. Neito, you have the whole class cheering you on in the semi-finals. Bring Class 1 – B some pride!" Kendo said as Neito nodded, his smirk turning into a smile.
"AND THUS, WITH MONOMA NEITO'S QUICK AND PAINLESS VICTORY, WE MOVE ON TO THE SEMI-FINALS! EVERYONE STAY PUT WHILE WE ARRANGE THE MATCHES AND GIVE THE CONTENDERS A MOMENT TO PREPARE!" Present Mic announced. A few members of the audience got up and left to do some things before the Festival Continued, while others simply just left, not wanting to see anything more than they already had.
Meanwhile, during the announced break, Josefumi walked into the crowded seats of the stadium, worming his way over to where his class was. He noticed an empty seat next to Yoshihara and immediately took it, catching her attention. "Hello, Kujo-kun, you missed the battle with Monoma. It wasn't much, in my personal opinion. Where were you, anyway?" Yoshihara asked as Josefumi chuckled sheepishly.
"Occupying the bathroom. I saw the tail end of your battle, by the way. What's your take on Tokoyami's Dark Shadow being able to hit your Killer Queen?" Josefumi asked as Yoshihara frowned, playing with a strand of her now almost shoulder-length hair. She was genuinely considering cutting it this time. After so long of cutting her hair, she didn't feel comfortable without it.
She knew it was supposed to be a statement about her not being afraid of change anymore, but it was a pain to brush in the morning. Not to mention that it was starting to feel really greasy now after five hours of constantly moving around. Not to mention, her bangs were getting in her eyes more often than not.
Honestly, she didn't know how someone like Asui could stand having long hair. Then again, she assumed that Asui had long hair for a long time now, so maybe she was used to it. Either way, she couldn't fathom herself having long hair. Especially given how much she was already starting to look like her birth mother.
Pushing that subject aside, she didn't know whether or not she truly had an actual opinion about Tokoyami's Dark Shadow yet. She was still trying to sort it out in her head. The facts pointed to it being an underdeveloped Stand, but they also pointed it to being just a Quirk that was deeply connected to its user. It could be either or, and that was the truly frustrating part.
"My opinion? I… don't really have an opinion. I do have a theory, and that's that Dark Shadow is either an underdeveloped Stand that has yet to fully cross the threshold, or, it's just a Quirk that has a deep connection with its user. There's no in-between. What about you?" Yoshihara asked as Josefumi hummed.
"Personally, I'm of the opinion that Dark Shadow is just a Quirk that has a deep connection to its user. Perhaps it's attached to his soul, and because of that, it's connected to that supernatural wavelength. It would also explain why Tokoyami can't see Stands, but Dark Shadow can. I'll have to explain to him what happened after the festival or when he returns to the bleachers, seeing as he hates you," Josefumi said as Yoshihara frowned.
She didn't like the idea of telling even more people what Stands were. It raised far too many questions than she wanted to answer. Josefumi seemed to catch on to that as he sighed. "Look, I know the whole point of this was to not tell anyone. But… it's starting to get to the point where we're going to have to tell at least the rest of Class 1 – A." Josefumi said, barely speaking above a whisper.
"No. It will only get people curious, and then they'll start looking. I don't care if they say they won't. We have people in our class like Kaminari. I'm already against the fact that we had to tell Jirou. The last thing I want on my mind is that the information that we gave them resulted in one of them dying. I might not be exactly the more moralistic person in the world—"
"—No kidding—"
"—But," Yoshihara continued, her frown deepening. "I don't know if I'd be able to sleep at night knowing that it was my fault that someone from our class, even if it was one of the people who hated me, had died. Not to mention all the accusations we'd get for "hiding important information" for so long."
"And you'd rather risk the other option?" Josefumi asked, raising an eyebrow as Yoshihara looked away. This was the last conversation she wanted to have right now. But it was an important one.
"Do you want me to be honest?"
"Preferably," Josefumi said, a hint of skepticism in his tone.
"I'd much rather neither option having to happen. But, if I had to pick… I'd much rather wait until our hands are forced. I'm already up to my neck in bullshit right now, and I don't think I can handle anything more before I snap at someone," Yoshihara replied as Josefumi looked away, clearly unhappy by her answer. "Not to mention, if—and I cannot stress that enough—if something like that were to happen, at that point, the whole school would have to be let in on the secret. If we're forced to explain ourselves, I'd rather it be because of a worst-case scenario and in front of everyone."
Josefumi groaned, but the kind of groan that signified reluctant agreement. He crossed his arms, leaning into his seat before he rubbed the sides of his head. "I hate how that's the most logical answer. Don't you ever appeal to emotions? Like, ever?"
"Emotions are a weakness, in my opinion. Especially when it comes to decision-making," Yoshihara replied as Josefumi raised an eyebrow.
"Whoa, okay, Lex Luthor. That's a little much, don't you think? Kinda makes me think you might be some kind of sociopath," Josefumi joked, and while Yoshihara didn't outwardly react, she did react internally. She had said too much, but thankfully, she had control over her reactions. Internally, she calmed herself before speaking.
"I suppose, but enough about that. I want to change the subject," Yoshihara said, looking away, clearly uncomfortable as Josefumi nodded, sitting up straight as he stared out at the field below.
"You're moving into the Semi-Finals. Midoriya's up against Sato, and you're fighting Monoma. You might be fighting Midoriya in the finals depending on how things go. What's your plan?" Josefumi asked, glancing over at her. Yoshihara hummed in thought, leaning forward as she rubbed her chin.
"To be honest, I don't have a plan against Izuku. All I know is that I won't be holding back, and neither will he. I'll try using sheer brute force against him, and if that doesn't work, I'll use my second bomb to trap him in an unwinnable situation. If that somehow fails, then I don't know. My best chance is to knock him down before he can charge up, and even then, I might not be fast enough to stop that. That's not even mentioning the fact that he can fight against Stands based on the air footprint they leave behind. This, coupled with his strength and speed, will no doubt make him an extremely dangerous and versatile opponent. Mybestchancetodefeathimistowaitforhimtotireorbreakenoughbonestowherehe'sslowerthanheusuallyiswhileheuseshisnewcharge-uptechniquewhenthathappensI—"
"Oi, Kira, slow down a little! I think Midoriya's muttering might've spread to you," Josefumi interrupted, making Yoshihara snap out of the trance she had unwittingly put herself in. A faint, red blush spread across her face as she realized what had happened.
"I see…." Yoshihara said, biting the inside of her lip. Just as she finished talking, the sound of the speakers flaring to life once again rang throughout the stadium. There was a brief moment of silence, and then, Present Mic began to talk.
"ALRIGHT, EVERYONE! WE'RE READY TO MOVE ON TO THE SEMI-FINALS! WE HAVE TWO MATCHUPS PREPARED, AND BOY, OH BOY, DOES THIS FIRST ONE SEEM LIKE A DOOZY! BUT BEFORE WE GET INTO THAT, PLEASE GIVE A ROUND OF APPLAUSE TO EVERYONE WHO'S MADE IT THIS FAR!"
When Present Mic spoke, two brackets appeared on the Jumbotron in the center of the stadium, displaying the next two rounds of fights. Although it would be obvious to know who was fighting who if one paid attention, it was good for those who weren't.
Fight 1: Izuku Midoriya – Versus – Rikido Sato
Fight 2: Yoshihara Kira – Versus – Neito Monoma
At Present Mic's behest, the crowd began to clap and cheer. Yoshihara let out a short sigh, standing up as she began to leave. Just before she could, Josefumi grabbed her wrist, causing the blond to look at him with a raised eyebrow. "What is it, Josefumi?"
"Before you go, I want to talk to you about something regarding the information I know about The Stand Bullets. After your match, we'll need to talk. That includes Midoriya and Karera. M'kay?" Josefumi said, causing Yoshihara to narrow her eyes. Josefumi let go of her wrist, letting her leave. However, just before she did, Josefumi spoke up once again, making her pause where she stood. "Oh, and Kira? Good luck, you're gonna need it. Not for Monoma. You'll beat him easily. But with Midoriya."
With a small nod, Yoshihara left the seating arena to ready herself for her battle with Class 1 – B's arrogant tard of a classmate. At first, she had the idea of just beating to a pulp. But… she had a much better idea.
She had just finished watching American Psycho a few days back—a recommendation from Kujo—and if all went well, she'd get him to leave her alone for the rest of her time at U.A. and leave an imprint on him.
One that he would never soon forget.
[XXXX]
Izuku stood in the tunnel that separated the arena from the rest of the stadium. He had to admit that his opponent, Sato Rikido, while not as strong as someone like Todoroki, was fairly strong in his own right. After all, he made it into U.A., and anyone who did that had to be strong.
He knew for certain that he was going to be hit at least once by him, but after that was a mystery. He saw how Sato was able to punish Ida for thinking speed would help him in the fight. However, unlike Ida, who had months, no, scratch that, years of training with his speed only to reach a certain limit, Izuku only had a few weeks. One For All or not, he was still at a disadvantage due to the limited amount of time he had the Quirk.
Speaking of One For All, he had begun noticing subtle changes. One of the main changes that he had noticed—and he was fairly certain everyone else had noticed—was that instead of his body glowing red with power, his body emitted green sparks of lightning. It was only when he used Full Cowling. But, aside from that, physically speaking, nothing had changed.
Metaphysically, however, it had begun to change. For starters, while he couldn't see Killer Queen or Soft & Wet, he was still trying to figure out how he was able to see Leading The Pack and Brittle Bones Nicky.
He hadn't mentioned it to Yoshihara or Kujo-kun. However, he did plan to. Just… not until after the festival. The last thing he needed was to be distracted during the finals about why One For All was so weird. It was already strange enough as it was, what with it being able to be passed down from generation to generation via DNA.
There was also the fact that for whatever reason, the lightning that Full Cowling seemed to produce was only for show. It was like static electricity, never actually doing any damage. It was as if it was a way to show off the fact that he was using it—kind of like a calling card of sorts.
It was just… weird. That was the only way he knew how to put it.
Izuku shook his head, clearing his thoughts as he tried to regain his focus on what was about to happen. He was in the semi-finals. He couldn't screw up. He was so close to winning, and the last thing he needed was to be distracted.
"Don't focus on that right now. Focus on the opponent. Rikido Sato, Quirk: Sugar Rush. The more sugar he eats, the stronger and potentially faster he gets. It not only enhances his speed, but it also enhances his reflexes. If he eats too much sugar, he becomes mindless. Conversely, it also dictates how long he can be on the battlefield. If he eats too much sugar and goes into his mindless state, he'll only have five minutes of action before his body craps out on him. He most likely won't eat that much sugar, but just enough for him to do some real damage. In other words, I have to overpower and outspeed him before he can move five steps. I do that, I win and move on to the finals."
exhaling, he put on a game face and stepped into the arena. As he did so, Sato stood on the other end, cracking his neck from side to side. Once he was done, he looked at Izuku and smirked. "I gotta say, Midoriya, when I saw you fight Todoroki, I was kinda scared. Knowing that I had to fight you next? I had no idea what I was going to do. I still don't. But that doesn't mean I shouldn't try."
Izuku smiled, cracking his knuckles before getting into a standard fighting stance. "The same can be said for you, Sato. When I watched you beat Ida, I was a little worried. Let's both give this our all!"
"Hell yeah!" Sato replied, smirking, mimicking Izuku and getting into his own fighting stance. "May the best man win!"
"LADIES, GENTLEMEN, AND PEOPLE IN BETWEEN WELCOME TO THE SEMI-FINALS! OUR FIRST MATCH OF THE AFTERNOON IS QUITE THE MIGHTY ONE! ON THE LEFT, WE GOT THE GREEN-HAIRED MENACE HIMSELF, THE ONE WHO SHOWED TODOROKI WHO THE STRONGEST IN CLASS 1 – A TRULY WAS, IT'S MIDORIYA IZUKU!"
The crowd went wild as a nervous bead of sweat found itself dripping down the side of Izuku's face. He hadn't expected the crowd to erupt so violently. In fact, he was now feeling a bit anxious with all the praise and cheers being levied his way.
It was a nice change of pace, though. He wasn't going to say he disliked it. After being hated for as long as he had, he longed for the day that people would actually look at him like an actual person. It sucked that it took him needing something like One For All for him to get that, and it only proved the fact that the world needed to be changed. But it was a start.
"AND ON THE RIGHT, WE HAVE THE SUGAR-POWERED BRICK WALL OF A PERSON, WHO NOT ONLY BEAT THE FASTEST MEMBER OF CLASS 1 – A WITH SHEER BRUTE FORCE BUT ALSO SHOWED KINDNESS IN THE SAME BREATH BY HELPING HIM BACK TO HIS FEET, IT'S RIKIDO SATO!"
Once more, the crowd cheered and showered them with applause, though Sato was left undeterred. Izuku cleared his throat and readied himself. Verdant eyes met black, and as soon as Present Mic was done calling them out, with a mighty roar, he shouted: "BEGIN!"
Sato's first move was to put up a block. Izuku's first move was to charge up his Full Cowling. Sato blinked, and Izuku was gone. Caught off guard by this, he only had a split second to shift his body around to block a kick meant for his head, which Ida had done in their match. The kick was strong enough to break the block and send Sato skidding back.
Sato dodged to the right to avoid yet another kick and then again to the left. He then shot a punch straight for Izuku's gut, only for it to be avoided and immediately countered as Izuku devastated Sato, punching him in the chest, winding him, and sending him flying. Had it not been for him planting his feet into the ground, he would've been launched out of the arena.
Sato gritted his teeth, watching as Izuku came right at him, not giving him a break. He faked a left hook, which Izuku went to block for. Using that to his advantage, Sato was able to clock Izuku in the right side of the face, sending him tumbling to the ground. Without skipping a beat, Sato kicked Izuku while he was down, sending him up in the air as Izuku spat up saliva.
Reorintating himself, Izuku was able to recover just in time to try and drop a spinning hammer kick on Sato's head, only to miss and, in return, get a meaty elbow slam in the center of his back as he landed. Izuku staggered forward, turning on his feet, only to be punched in the face by Sato, his fist landing square on his nose, bloodying Sato's fist as Izuku staggered back.
Just as Izuku was able to recover, he was forced on the defensive as Sato delivered blow after blow, trying to break his defence. Izuku ignored his bloodied nose as much as possible, focusing on what was ahead of him. He hadn't expected Sato to give him this much trouble, and yet, here he was, doing just that.
The audience made several oohs and awes while Sato continued to rush Izuku down, trying to break his block. It was almost like the tale of the almighty spear versus the invincible shield. The only difference was that both knew that either one of them would eventually slip up.
And when that happened, it would spell the end of the battle.
During the nonstop rush down that Sato was performing, Izuku noticed something amidst all the punches. With each punch Sato threw, his attacks kept getting slower—not by a lot, but by just enough to where Izuku knew where an opening would appear. "He's about to have a sugar crash. I'll take him out once he slows down to a manageable point!"Izuku thought, gritting his teeth as endured one more attack.
Then, he saw an opening.
Just as Sato was about to unleash yet another punch aimed for his face, Izuku jumped up, leapt over Sato, and just as he turned around, Izuku slid his right foot back just close enough to the disqualification line to make it dubious to whether or not he crossed it, and then full-on tackled Sato, staggering him.
It wasn't enough to send him through the ground, but it was enough to make him lose his balance. Then, without missing a beat, he delivered a brutal uppercut to Sato's chin, flinging him upward as he fell to the ground, blood spewing from his gums, his eyes wide, having not expected Izuku to pull such a dirty move.
Using his few-second window of opportunity to activate Full Cowling, Izuku ducked his left arm underneath Sato's back moments before he hit the ground, grabbed him by the back of the gym uniform, and used his free right arm to grab his left ankle. In a split second, Izuku flipped Sato over and slammed his face into the dirt ground.
The impact was so massive that it made a small crater where Sato had impacted the ground. Breathing heavily, Izuku let go of Sato, before taking a step back, his heart beating as sweat collected on his forehead. He wiped the blood from his nose, collecting himself. Sato groaned, trying to pull himself up from the floor.
Once he did, he turned around, trying to stand up, only to fail. He fell on his back, staring up at Izuku. "Can you still fight?" Izuku asked, his voice containing an edge of seriousness to it. He already knew the answer, he just needed the confirmation.
"I… I think I'm done…." As Sato spoke those words, he passed out from the sugar crash that was setting in. Midnight raised her riding crop to the air and shouted so that the audience could hear.
"Sato Rikido is unable to battle. Midoriya Izuku moves on to the finals!"
As that echoed throughout the arena, cheers soon filled it soon after. Izuku helped Sato up from the floor as a pair of medical robots came onto the scene, both of which carrying a stretcher. Izuku placed Sato on the stretcher, and away they went.
The next battle decided who it was that Izuku was going to fight in the finals. A part of him wanted it to be someone else other than Yoshihara. Not because he was scared to fight her—far from it. He just didn't like the idea of hitting her. It didn't feel right to him. Even before they were, at the very least, considered boyfriend and girlfriend.
That didn't mean he wouldn't be cheering for her in her battle against Neito Monoma. He knew that she was going to beat him. She had the unfair advantage of being a Stand User, after all. Monoma stood no real chance.
"WELL FOLKS, AFTER THAT RATHER INTERESTING FIGHT, IT WOULD APPEAR THAT MIDORIYA IZUKU IS NOW MOVING ON TO THE FINALS! JUST WHO WILL HIS OPPONENT BE? WILL IT BE MONOMA NEITO? OR WILL IT BE KIRA YOSHIHARA? FIND OUT IN A FEW MINUTES AS WE LET THE NEXT TWO CONTENDERS PREPARE!"
With those last words spoken, Izuku left the arena completely, heading toward the seating area so he could watch the impending fight. As he walked through the tunnel, he saw Yoshihara making her way to the entrance, a determined look on her face. As they passed, Yoshihara shot him a glance, grabbed him by the shoulder, and whispered into his ear.
"After this match, Kujo has a lead on the Stand Bullets he wants us to hear about. He wants to talk in the gender-neutral bathroom; that way, no one will eavesdrop on us. See you then." With that, she left, leaving Izuku behind with a confused expression on his face.
"Okay… uh, alright Yoshihara! Good luck with your next match!" Izuku called out, earning an over-the-shoulder glance from her and a thumbs up. Yoshihara continued walking, her eyes narrowed as she stepped out onto the battlefield. It had only been five minutes since her last match, and yet despite that, she was ready.
She had to be. This was the semi-finals, after all. This was where the crème of the crop was. At the very least, she was in third place. If, for some reason, she lost her by some act of God, she would be taking home the third-place medal.
That didn't mean she'd settle for the third-place medal. She wouldn't mind being in second if she had to settle for any medal other than first place. After all, if she won this—and she would—then she'd be fighting Izuku.
The idea of losing to Izuku… wasn't exactly a bad one.
If anyone deserved to win The Sports Festival, it was him. After all the bullshit he had endured at Aldera, he deserved to have won something.
But just because he deserved to win something, that didn't mean even for a second that she wouldn't make him work for it. There wasn't even a guarantee that he would win it. After all, she wanted to win as well.
But that was for after this. Right now, her opponent was Neito Monoma, from Class 1 – B, whom she was pretty sure was the one who came up to their table and taunted her about the whole "killing innocent people" thing.
As Yoshihara stepped onto the arena floor, she stared him down, narrowing her eyes all the while. Just from looking at him, she had to admit, he looked to be just an average individual. He didn't even look like someone who would stand out in a crowd—kind of like her, in an odd, familiar sort of way.
He was of average height, maybe five foot seven or maybe eight, if he was lucky. His hair was slicked back, and he, too, wore the gym uniform. He also had blue eyes, though his were a darker shade than hers. From what she observed from the battle, he had the same Quirk as Tetsutetsu, the boy with the steel skin. Although, that sounded like a bunch of nonsense to her.
How did someone have the exact same Quirk as one of their classmates? There was something else afoot with him that she knew he was hiding, and due to what Present Mic said earlier in his introduction about how his Quirk constantly changed, she had to bet he could copy other Quirks.
If that were the case, she wouldn't know what his ability was. That made him a difficult opponent in his own right. But then again, she had Killer Queen, something that she could use to her advantage against him, seeing as he knew nothing about it.
Monoma was about to speak up, but Present Mic spoke first.
"AND FOR OUR FINAL MATCH OF THE SEMI-FINALS, WE HAVE WHAT SOME MAY DEEM TO BE A ONE-SIDED BEATDOWN, DEPENDING ON WHO'S SAYING IT. REGARDLESS OF THAT, LET'S INTRODUCE OUR FIGHTERS, THOUGH YOU ARE ALL AWARE OF WHO THEY ARE! ON THE RIGHT, WE HAVE THE JACK OF ALL TRADES, THE TRICKSTER OF CLASS 1 – B! IT'S MONOMA NEITO!"
The crowd roared with applause. Monoma's smirk was ear to ear, bordering on a smile. His eyes gleamed with thoughts of victory, a gleam that showed that he was inherently more human than his opponent.
Yoshihara felt a wave of anger roll over her for a split second. It was like he was mocking her, and in that sense, a part of her wanted to break match regulations, walk up to him, and beat the snot out of him during the introduction.
"AND OVER TO THE LEFT, WE HAVE SOMEONE WHO STILL BOGGLES MY MIND IN TERMS OF HER QUIRK, SOMEONE WHO SHOWS THAT GETTING THEIR HANDS DIRTY ISN'T ALL TOO BAD AND DOES SO WITH AN APATHETIC EXPRESSION. IT'S KIRA YOSHIHARA!"
There was no roar of applause, although there was far less booing and more silence than the last two times her name was shouted out to the crowd. There were some cheers, mostly from her supporters—her friends, something she didn't mind. Yoshihara simply huffed out a sigh of annoyance, staring absently at Monoma.
"AND BEGIN!"
Instead of rushing each other, the two stayed perfectly still. Yoshihara sized up Monoma, judging him, trying to figure out what it was he was going to do. His body language sent mixed signals. He was both relaxed and pissed off. His eyes gleamed with hatred and cockiness. It reminded Yoshihara of Taro, which made her frown.
After a minute of standing still, Monoma sighed, almost as if he thought this was not worth his time. His right foot fidgeted, but Yoshihara didn't move. If she wanted her plan to work, she needed to wait for him to do something.
She just needed him to move.
She needed to provoke him.
"Are you going to do anything? Anything at all? Because I'm not doing anything until you do," Yoshihara said, shoving her hands in her pockets. "Or are you waiting for me?"
"Nah. I'm just thinking, that's all…" Monoma said, crossing his arms, looking her up and down as he frowned. "I gotta wonder why it is that you made it this far," Neito spat as his eyes narrowed. "I would've thought that the scandal that occurred over the last two weeks would've made you quit. But somehow, you're still here. This is where I would usually give props, but you're a murderer, and therefore, all you get is my ire and the rest of U.A.'s. You shouldn't be here, and you know that. Don't you?" Neito continued, keeping his distance from Yoshihara, who raised an eyebrow.
"Is he… seriously moral grandstanding me right now?" Yoshihara thought, not budging an inch. If this was what he was going to do, then so be it. She didn't care.
At least she had him doing something now. Which would make what she was about to do just that much better.
"So, here's what I'm asking. Why are you here? Why do you think you deserve to be here? Because let's face it, you don't! You put a bad name on being a hero! As that Tokoyami guy said, you're a rat who snuck in to ruin U.A.'s good name! You alone are dragging it through the mud and should be shamed for it! Not only did you drag down U.A.'s good name, but also Class 1 – A's! This fight will show to the world that Class 1 – B is better than yours, you filthy murderer!"
And just as he was about to charge toward Yoshihara, a manic grin on his face as he began to close the distance, something in Yoshihara snapped.
To hell with her plan.
To hell with what she was going to do.
She was going to humiliate him.
And she wouldn't even need to raise a finger.
A wave of killing intent filled the arena, stopping Monoma in his tracks. The whole arena felt it, including the commentators in the booth watching overhead. A sense of dread followed afterward, a couple of murmurs coming from the crowd as the two contenders stood stock still. Yoshihara let out a small sigh as she stared directly at Neito Monoma, her face expressionless as she began to fiddle with a coin in her right hand. Monoma tried to move, but fear had taken over his body, locking him in place.
There was an almost haunting aura around Yoshihara, her eyes reflecting nothing. They looked like they belonged to a corpse. The way she stood stock still, flipping the coin in her hand, hardly paying attention to Monoma as if he wasn't worth the air he breathed.
In truth, Yoshihara was furious. Ever since the start of The Sports Festival, she constantly told herself the jeers and booing meant nothing to her. But it was slowly eating away at whatever goodwill she had left for the people around her. And what Monoma said… it was the straw that broke the camel's back.
"My name is Yoshihara Kira," she began, her expression unchanging as she continued. "I am 16 years old. I live in a suite on Tokami Street where the busiest part of Musutafu is located, and I am no longer single. I am a student at U.A. High, specifically the Hero Course, and I get home every day at around 4:30 PM, no earlier and no later than that. I do not smoke, nor do I drink."
Monoma blinked, confusion taking over his visage as Yoshihara spoke. Monoma, for his part, had no idea why she was giving him a description of how she lived, but that hardly mattered. He gritted his teeth and glared at her, annoyance strewn clearly on his face. "W-Why are you—"
"I'm in bed by 9:30 PM, and I make sure to get, at the bare minimum, eight hours of sleep, no matter what," Yoshihara continued, speaking over Monoma as if he wasn't even there. "After having a glass of warm milk and doing about twenty or so minutes of stretches before going to bed, I usually have no problems sleeping until morning. Just like a baby, I wake up without any fatigue or stress. During my previous doctor's appointment, I was told I had no outstanding medical issues, mental or physical."
More confusion clouted Monoma's mind, his expression showing that clearly. He was about to speak again, to ask why she was going on about this nonsense, when the wave of killing intent got worse. He choked back a gasp for air, looking at the now terrifying person in front of him. It was almost as if he could see the killing intent waft off of her like a plume of smoke, fixating around her body as she fiddled with the coin.
Her expression became dark, and her eyes became pointed—like that of a cat. Despite that, every ounce of fear he felt only tripled when she moved a few steps forward. Building up enough will, he spoke up, even if his voice was now shaky and his determination all but shattered.
"G- Get to the point! A-And stop w-whatever the hell this is! N-No words you say are going to make m-me change my and the rest of the world's view of you!" Monoma barked, his glare returning to him. All he got in response was a shake of a head and a disappointed hum.
"What I'm trying to explain, Neito Monoma, is that I'm a person who wishes to live a very quiet life. Now, recently, that has been foiled by a lot of outside factors up and including this school. However, my stance still has not changed. I try and take care not to trouble myself with enemies, like winning and losing. That would cause me to lose sleep at night."
As she spoke, the negative energy surrounding her only got worse, and Monoma took a step back, his skin paling as all the blood drained from his face. For a moment, he saw the mask slip, and any emotion she once held onto was gone as Monoma was met with her true self—the true Kira Yoshihara—an uncaring, unrelenting force of malice given human form—someone to not make angry, someone to not step in the way of.
And that glare she gave him summed it up to him in a matter of seconds. It showed him that she never showed mercy to anyone. To villains, to citizens, to heroes—nothing. She cared not for any of that. But just as he thought she was done speaking, she continued.
"That is how I deal with society, and I know what brings me happiness. For as long as I can remember, I've tried my hardest to live a somewhat productive life. I've never once had to deal with people who would stand to strip that from me. But, as recent events have proven to me, some people would wish me harm. Another thing that recent events have proven to me is that if I were to get into a fight with anyone, I would not lose."
The wave of killing intent ceased as Yoshihara flipped the coin over to Monoma, landing at the edge of his feet. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the coin, as he reached down to pick it up. Once he had it in his hands, he examined the coin, raising an eyebrow. "What the… it's just a 100 yen coin? What kind of stupid thing is this about? Thanks for the money, I guess—"
"Do you even know what my Quirk is?" Yoshihara asked, putting one of her hands in her pocket and keeping the other one out. Neito scoffed, looking at her with an expression that screamed, "Duh"
"You can create bubble bombs from your fingertips. You can also shrink them down to near-microscopic size to protect you like a barrier, but that's it. Nothing too outlandish or flashy, but definitely powerful. If only you used it for good, then maybe—"
"You got half of my Quirk right," Yoshihara said as Killer Queen appeared beside her, its right hand making a detonator-like charade. "But you don't know its other half, so allow me to explain it to you. My Quirk, Bomb Creation, allows me to create bubble bombs. That much you were correct about. But it also allows me to turn anything I touch into a bomb. Including a 100 Yen coin."
The realization hit Monoma like a freight train, but before he could throw it away, a clicking sound filled the arena as a massive explosion overtook Monoma's person completely. In one attack, the boy was sent flying out of the arena, blood flying out of his body as his arms, legs, chest, waist, and face were filled to the brim with cuts and lashes. Not deadly, mind you, but most certainly painful.
Gasps and wide eyes filled the arena as Yoshihara scoffed. She hadn't expected that to work. She had thought Monoma would've been smarter than that, but she was proven wrong. The coin lay on the floor of the arena, perfectly intact, as she walked up to it and picked it up. There was no hint of emotion on her face, no hint of sympathy, no nothing. Just a pure, blank expression. Putting the coin back into her uniform pocket, she waited for the dust to settle so that she could see the extent of the damage.
When the smoke cleared, Monoma was slumped against the wall near the exit tunnel, his eyes squinting as he tried to remain conscious. Blood streamed down his face and his arms, the top half of his uniform torn to shreds.
The top half of his body was covered in cuts and burn marks, but nothing too serious. Blood streamed from those too, but once again, it was nothing too serious. The rest of his wounds were small cuts and bruises.
She hadn't packed too much firepower in the explosion, only enough compared to a quarter of a grenade. There was enough firepower within that explosion to send him flying and leave some small wounds behind after the fact.
Yoshihara was cruel to her enemies but not that cruel, at least to other students.
"AND… UM, WITH THAT RATHER ANTI-CLIMATIC FIGHT, KIRA YOSHIHARA MOVES ON TO THE FINALS. I… ER, LET'S TAKE A BREAK BEFORE WE BEGIN THE END ALL BE ALL MATCH OF THE SPORTS FESTIVAL."
Kira left the arena as the medical bots scooped Monoma up onto the stretcher. He was barely conscious of what had happened. His fist slightly enlarged for a split second, then returned to normal size. His eyes widened at that. She had distracted him for enough time for the time limit of his Copy Quirk ability to be up. Perhaps it was unconsciously, but she drained all the time he had for it.
She beat him with words and then blew him up just to add salt to the wound. With his pride now wounded, he drifted off to the land of unconsciousness, anger in his veins at the insult tossed his way without words.
-To Be Continued-