Author's Note 1: My Super Robot Academia is a non-profit fanfiction series.
My Hero Academia is the property of Bones, Funimation, and Kouhei Horikoshi.
Any original characters or concepts are owned by Navek and xpegasus.
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Chapter 21: Final Preparations!
21 days until the Sports Festival
"So, if the rumors are to be believed, I say we give three cheers to the happy couple," came a young man's voice from a speaker resting on a workbench. "Honestly, never imagined Mirko and Fat Gum would get together, but I can see it."
"I hope you've got all that relationship drama out of your system, Kenichi," said a calmer but similar-sounding voice. "Because I'm in the mood to move onto the next topic."
"Couldn't agree more, Kenji," Izuku said as he tinkered away. Izuku, Mei, and Power Loader were busy inside the Support Lab, working on modifying Striker's signature weapon. Power Loader had decided to turn something on in the background, and Izuku suggested his favorite podcast: Hero 1-2-3!
Hosted by the charismatic Sanada brothers, Kenichi, Kenji, and Kenzo, Hero 1-2-3! prided itself on fair and balanced coverage of all things heroic. And compared to other hero-focused podcasts that tended to blow stuff out of proportion, the Sanada brothers were a breath of fresh air. Which also meant their show was the perfect background noise to play while the lab team readied their next test.
"I swear, I'll never understand why people care so much who's screwing who," Power Loader grumbled as he worked. "As long as heroes are doing their jobs, it shouldn't matter who they're sleeping with."
"And that's why so many students think you're boring, sensei," Mei chimed in as she typed away at a computer. "Besides, you'd care if they were doing the hanky-panky with a villain."
"That's different, Hatsume, when it's between two heroes— wait a second, did you say boring? What do you mean the kids think I'm bor—"
"All systems are green!" Mei exclaimed, deaf to Power Loader's words. "Let's fire this baby up!"
Power Loader sighed as he helped Mei and Izuku wheel the rudimentary robot torso they'd been working on in to the testing chamber. The chamber was designed for testing the more...volatile creations of the Support Course. On the other side of the testing chamber was a large target made of Alpha Titanium.
The excitement in the air was palpable as Izuku, Mei, and Power Loader rushed to their stations, almost forgetting to lock the testing chamber's door behind them. "Energy Readings are stable," Power Loader said as he watched the torso light up through the reinforced glass.
Izuku nodded. The boy couldn't help but smile as he and Mei slid on their safety goggles. He held what resembled a game controller. On the left was a joystick with a green button on top, and on the right was a large blue dial.
"Okay, beginning Strike Beam Intensity Dial test. Let's start with low settings." Izuku rolled the dial before pressing the joystick's button. A blue beam of light fired from the test torso's mouth vent and hit the target. The target creaked a bit but otherwise seemed fine.
"Target is showing minor damage, but no burns!" Mei shouted, observing the target's sensors.
"Increasingly intensity," Izuku said as he rolled. The Strike Beam increased in size and power and began pushing the target back.
"Target is beginning to burn; otherwise, it's intact!"
"Alright, one more time!" Izuku turned the dial to the maximum, and the Strike Beam flared like the sun. It tore through the target and struck the test chamber's wall. Izuku released the joystick button, and the Strike Beam dissipated. A huge grin spread across Izuku's face as he took in the test results. "That was awesome."
"Well, looks like the dial works," Power Loader said. "No damage to the test head."
"I think I'll make the low intensity setting the default for the Strike Beam," Izuku commented. "Another non-lethal ranged option is always good to have."
"To quote a great man, 'I'd buy that for a dollar!'" The trio turned and saw Kaneko walking towards them with a briefcase in hand. "Ciao, my favorite brainiacs!"
"Shouldn't you be in class?" Power Loader stated. He had met the 2nd business student a while back. While he seemed legitimate about wanting to help with Izuku's image, his attitude reminded him too much of an eccentric used car salesman.
"I got one of my boys copying notes. But this is more important." Kaneko placed his briefcase on a nearby table and began to unlock it. And what he pulled out…was a five-inch action figure of Striker!
"Aw! It's adorable!" Mei cooed while Izuku looked wide-eyed.
"Kaneko, did you make this?"
"I wish, but sadly, merch-making isn't one of my talents. Luckily, my gal pal Chie is a whiz when it comes to making stuff like this quickly and humanely."
"So what exactly is it?" Power Loader asked.
"Why, this little beauty is the Hi-Action Striker Figure!" Kaneko held it up like he was in an infomercial. "More specifically, this is the 5-inch model we plan on selling during the Festival. It's got multiple points of articulation." He demonstrated by rotating the toy's shoulders, knees, and waist. Light up features…" He pressed down on its head antennas, causing its eyes to light up. "And even a sparking Strike Beam function." He pressed a button on the back, causing gears in the figure's mouth to create sparks that shot out of the toy's mouth vent. "Though thanks to our play testers, we're gonna have to remove that last function."
"Play testers?" Izuku asked.
"…okay, by that I mean my kid cousins. The little tykes managed to set my uncle's curtains on fire with that." But the cat boy quickly moved on. "Point is, when the kids in the audience see Striker kicking ass in the Festival, they'll be able to have their own little Striker to play with! I can practically hear the yen dropping!"
"Um…that might be a bit of an issue." Izuku said with an awkward smile, confusing Kaneko. "See, in order to make Striker more durable, we've decided to reinforce its frame with more Titanium Alpha. And to compensate for the added weight, we're gonna need to change the design."
"Change it how?"
Mei pulled out her phone and showed Kaneko the blueprints. His golden eyes widened for a moment before rubbing his chin in contemplation. "You know what, I can work with this." He jostled the Striker action figure. "We'll just relabel these as special commemorative figures. We still got time to make plenty for the festival."
"You don't have to go that far. That sounds like a lot of work."
"Izuku, baby, my sweet broccoli haired egghead," Kaneko said as he grabbed Izuku's cheeks. "You just leave it to me and focus on your big boy."
True, Chie would probably chew him out for needed to make a new batch of figures based on a new design, but it was nothing that some deluxe coffee jelly couldn't smooth over. Though Kaneko's wallet was gonna hate him for the next few weeks.
"Next up, we got some hilarious bootleg merch," the youngest brother, Kenzo, said as the 1-2-3 podcast continued to play, the sounds of plastic merch clattering against a table. "Let's see: we got a Power Loader figure with what looks like a robot t-rex head instead of his helmet."
The kids looked at the teacher's helmet and had to hold back some laughter, making the armored hero scowl in a bit of embarrassment.
"A Mt. Lady purse with her costume colors changed to dark red and black," Kenji, the middle sibling said. "Honestly, I think it looks pretty cool. Kind of gives her a mountain oni vibe."
"Yeah, but it's clear that's not what she's going for," Kenichi commented as the sound of him shuffling through more merchandise. "Woah! Guys, check this Endeavor figure out!"
"...is that yellow mess supposed to be his fire bread?" Kenji asked while Kenzo broke into a fit of laughter. "He looks look someone's Dragon Ball OC going Super Saiyan."
"No, no, no, wait!" The youngest brother chimed in. "He looks like All Might and Endeavor did the fusion dance!"
"Oh, I gotta get my hands on that," Izuku said to himself, Kaneko's cat perked up at his words.
"Midoriya, you're a genius!" Kaneko exclaimed.
"Uh, thank you?" Izuku said with a perplexed look. Before he could ask any further questions, Kaneko ran out of the room, cackling like a mad man.
"Anyone else scared of what's going through his head?" Power Loader asked.
"Oh, terrified," Izuku said.
Mei rolled her eyes at them. "You guys are no fun. Honestly, I can't wait to see what cat boy's planning."
Later that day, Nezu called in a teacher's meeting during lunch period.
"Thank you all for coming on such short notice," Nezu said. "First order of business: Thirteen has made a full recovery and is back on teaching duty. Welcome back, Anan."
A round of applause was shared for the hero, blushing behind their helmet as Mic held their hand.
"Second order of business." He looked towards Eraserhead and Vlad. "How are our first years handling their pre-festival training?"
"Depends on who you ask," Eraserhead replied. "Some think they're going to wing it off personality alone, but others are training their asses off."
"Same here. Though the Martial Arts class has been doing wonders to help them develop inter-class comradery," Vlad followed up.
"Old man Musha always says that you don't truly know someone until they've punched you right in the face," Gunhead said with an eccentric hand salute.
"And third order of business..." Nezu took a deep sigh, like someone about to rip off a band-aid on a nasty cut. "President Miyashima will be attending the First Year Sports Festival this year."
Everyone stared at Nezu, eyes wide and mouths agape. Even Present Mic was at a loss for words.
"Seriously?" Toshinori chimed in. "I've known Miyashima for years, and she's exceedingly anti-social."
"I'm with Yagi on this. Why's the HPSC prez showin' up?" Snipe followed up.
"Well, in light of the attack on the USJ and scandal caused by the National Jinkai's expose on Midoriya, President Miyashima has 'graciously' decided take time out of her busy schedule and attend the Sports Festival," Nezu began, quietly noting a few eye rolls amongst the staff. "President Miyashima believes her attendance would be a good way to raise public morale and show that the government still has faith in our prestigious academy."
"Do you actually believe any of that?" Aizawa asked.
"I don't believe it would be professional for me to comment on the veracity of President Miyashima's claims," Nezu said, feeling quite proud of his ability to keep a straight face.
Maintaining control of his emotions and outward persona had always been one of his greatest weapons when dealing with potential threats to UA. It was a dangerous game being played between the UA Principal and the HPSC President. Neither could afford let their emotions run wild and control them and give the other side ammunition. Politics were all about optics, and it wouldn't look good if the head of UA or the HPSC started acting like a raving lunatic.
"One last thing," Nezu continued. "President Miyashima also said she'd be bringing some special guests with her."
"It's Wada, isn't it?" Vlad said, already expecting the worst.
"It's highly likely that yes, Agent Wada will be in attendance alongside her."
Several groans came from the UA teaching staff at the mention of that name. Wada was the resident hardass of the Commission. He was always on the lookout for even the smallest violations or infractions and was ruthless in his enforcement. If his own mother sent him a birthday card, he'd probably arrest her if the stamp was out of place.
"Well guess I'm out as the First Year's referee," Midnight said. "Miyashima has been on my ass about my 'sultry' costumes since Day 1."
"Not to play Devil's Advocate, but your first costume was a nightmare," Aizawa chimed in.
Midnight huffed in indignation. "It wasn't that bad."
"Nemuri, I love ya, but the only thing keeping you decent in that was a pair of straps," Mic commented.
"...fair enough," the R-Rated Heroine said with a sigh. "All that research for stamina and athletics puns gone to waste."
"You consider watching an ancient and trashy foreign TV show research?" Recovery Girl said.
"Do not mock The Golden Girls in my presence!"
Nezu coughed to get everyone back on track. "Well, I suppose we need a new referee. Aizawa—"
"Nothing you say will make me do it."
"Shame." Nezu's smile turned mischievous. "Guess I'll have to drink all that special ordered Himalayan coffee by myself."
Aizawa said nothing for a few seconds, tapping his fingers before saying, "Okay, I'll do it." Everyone balked at how readily the Erasure Hero changed his tune, while Mic and Midnight just chuckled at their friend's quick turnaround.
But despite the brief bits of levity, there was a feeling of unease amongst the teaching staff of UA for the rest of the day.
18 days until the Sports Festival.
All men are not created equal. A common phrase I've heard in our world described is a world where nearly everyone is super. This is a lie.
It was mid-evening as a train trekked along. Eventually, the train came to a stop, the speakers announcing they'd arrived at Kamino Ward. As old passengers departed and new ones embarked on the train, a particular teenage boy was among the crowd. He was a tall and plump young man wearing khaki pants and a pale blue button up shirt that oddly had two thin slits on the back of it. Finishing his outfit was a pair of meticulously polished loafers and an watch on his left wrist. The boy had long brown hair was tied in a ponytail, and his blue eyes were reading through a translated copy of The Curious Case of Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde, his expression was a quiet yet analytical one.
He closed his book, put it in his book bag, and began to look around, observing the other people in the station.
He saw a boy widening his mouth to an inhuman degree, amusing his friends as he shoved a ton of food in it. A rather large woman with a crocodile mutation letting out a frustrated sigh as she had to duck and turn sideways to enter the women's restroom. A man with floating liquid for hair chatting with his business partner on the phone. And many more.
Just like how some people are born with natural talent or inclinations for certain physical activity, of the millions of Quirks that emerge from humanity, there's a clear divide in terms of raw power and usefulness.
A few minutes later, the young man entered an alley and stretched, loosening his joints. He took a breath, and then large, red, dragon-like wings exited his shirt through a pair of slits on the back. He began to flap them before taking off to his destination, making sure to fly in the shadows of the buildings.
Unfortunately, I was born on the low end of that scale. It's funny. Once upon a time, man's greatest desire was the ability to fly under his own power. And yet, despite being born with wings, in this world, that makes me about as 'special' as any leaf on any tree.
Even as a boy, I knew this. Perhaps that's why I was drawn to those with 'stronger' Quirks. It's why I felt such relief when inflicting harm to those I saw as weaker. And why I have spent more than half my life making sure that my mind was sharper than most of my peers.
Eventually, the young man arrived at a modest clinic building, tucked between a game shop and a bakery. The sign read "Tsubasa Pediatrics" and appeared to be closed.
The young man retracted his wings, entered the code to open the doors, and let himself in. There was nothing special about it. It could have been any pediatric clinic anywhere in the world. Honestly, the only notable thing about it was how almost deliberately nondescript the clinic was.
That is, unless you entered the janitor's closet. And even then, you had to know exactly where to look.
Next to a poster about proper cleaning supply maintenance was an electric outlet; the only thing one might find odd about it was how far it seemed to jut out of the wall. But so long as the outlet worked, most wouldn't give it a second thought. And that was the point.
The young man placed his hands on the outlet, and with the right amount of pressure in the right places, a distinctive click rang through the closet. The outlet swung open to reveal a keypad. With a quick four-digit passcode, the wall opened to reveal an elevator with freshly cleaned lab coats hanging on the back wall. The young man took the elevator down and grabbed a lab coat.
When the elevator reached its destination, the young man exited to see a sight that would chill most people to the bone. Rows upon rows of glowing tubes filled with green fluid. Suspended within each was a creature whose very existence openly mocked and spat upon nature itself. Each one was more horrifying and unsettling than the last, and a sense of utter wrongness permeated the air.
The young man walked past these pods with barely a glance, only stopping at one to check his reflection in the reinforced glass.
"Grandpa," the young man called out. "Are you here?"
"Ah, Hakaru! Punctual as always! I'm just checking on project Boneyard."
Hakaru walked briskly, knowing exactly which monstrosity his grandfather was talking about and where it was. He found his grandfather looking over data on a tablet and glancing between it and the creature suspended in the tube.
He was Dr. Kyudai Garaki, but to the people of Yokohama, he was Dr. Anno Tsubasa, a kind and mild-mannered pediatrician. And to the citizens of Jaku in Kyoto Prefecture, he was Daruma Ujiko, founder of Jaku General Hospital. Tokisuke Seto in Sapporo, Hokkaido, Yori Yomochi in Kanzaki, Saga, Naohira Oda in Uruma, Okinawa, Otomatsu Fudai in Yonago, Tottori, and countless other aliases the good doctor had created in his almost two centuries of life.
As Hakaru approached project Boneyard, he noticed the look of frustration on his grandfather's brow. "Something bothering you?" Hakaru asked.
The doctor sighed. "Boneyard's being a headache again," Dr. Garaki said, pointing at the monster inside the tube. It was a tall and lanky creature with no lips and several bones pocking out of its tan skin. "Calcium Spikes keeps surging out of control. The previous user apparently needed to maintain constant mental control to keep the spikes at a manageable rate."
"And we obviously can't raise the Nomu's mental capacity," Hakaru stated before he began to look over some data on his phone. It was the stockpile of Quirks that their benefactor had acquired through...rather violent means over his long life. Hakaru reviewed the list of Quirks and their properties before finding a particular one.
"Milk Blast?" He said to himself, getting Dr. Garaki's attention. "Gross name, but it could work." The doctor handed Hakaru the tablet, and the plump young man began entering data to run a simulation. Hakaru smiled and showed the tablet to his grandfather, whose eyes widened in surprise.
The simulation showed Boneyard's bone spikes coming under control while its body grew in strength and size. "This Quirk was used by a hero who could generate energy blasts after consuming the calcium from milk," Hakaru began. "We just apply the calcium conversion effect from...Milk Blast...into Boneyard's system, and adjust its body so that it's always converting the excess bones created by Calcium Spikes into additional muscle mass."
Dr. Garaki looked at the results and chuckled. "So obvious. My age must be getting to me."
"Come on, Grandpa. You don't look a day over a hundred," Hakaru joked, laughing along with the doctor.
"Well, I better check to see if I missed anything else with the latest batch. Oh, and Hakaru." Dr. Garaki gave a proud smile to his grandson. "Your project is coming along spectacularly."
My grandfather. One of the greatest scientific minds to ever walk the Earth. Of course, genius is never appreciated in its time. Academia laughed at his theories. Called him a loon for his proposal to fix what he believes is an encroaching genetic apocalypse.
I love my grandfather, but there's no denying that his mind is starting to deteriorate. He would never make a mistake so simple before. And he's had similar incidents several times just this year alone.
While grandfather's Quirk, Life Force, has been able to extend his life beyond what any normal human could dream of, even it cannot completely stave off the ravages of time. It has been a slow, grueling decline. Watching his once razor-sharp mind dull and rust has been painful.
Hakaru walked towards a heavy door bolted shut at the back of the laboratory. Behind it lay a room reserved for his special project. A Nomu of his own personal design.
Not helping matters is that ever since the failed assassination of All Might, Grandfather has been throwing himself into his work. The idea of his Nomu, his Anti-Symbol of Peace, being killed by U.A.'s first years has been a massive blow to his ego.
A heavy thud rang through the air with every bolt unlocked. Specially designed hydraulics helped him open the meter-thick, solid metal door. Cool air wafted from the room, and Hakaru smiled at the sight of his Nomu. "Good evening, my dear Adam."
Inside a tube was a gray brain. A brain the size of a small truck, its brain stem attached to the bottom of the tank. A pair of eyes floated in front of it, closed and bobbing ever so slightly in the artificial amniotic fluid. Hakaru looked down at the tank's control panel and smiled at the results.
"Complete psyonic growth estimated in under two months. All tissues stable." He placed his hand on the glass, like a father gazing at their newborn child. "Just you wait. Soon, everyone will know of your magnificence."
Grandfather is not long for this world. The conflict with hero society will only escalate, and more than likely, he will be one of the casualties. So someone will have to carry on his work. Father and Mother long ago disowned him, so that task falls to me.
As he waited for his computer to boot up, Hakaru grabbed his phone and opened a tabloid news article. One of particular interest to him that had been amusing him all morning. An article pondering exactly how the infamous Quirkless U.A. student would do during the Sports Festival.
Izuku Midoriya. Deku. A living example of how genetics can fail. I recall my grandfather telling me about how he was once excited to see how his Quirk would manifest. With his mother having telekinesis and his father having the ability to breathe fire, Grandfather theorized that he would become a potent pyrokinetic. But reality is often full of disappointments.
I was honestly surprised to hear he somehow made it into a hero school. How did he pull that off?
This is the same boy that cried whenever my friends and I had fun with him. The boy who constantly deluded himself with talks of building a 'super robot.' Though, Shigaraki claims that a 'green robot kid' played a part in killing the Anti-All Might Nomu.
Deku…did you actually do it? Did you follow through with your ramblings about making a machine to rival the strongest heroes?
Well, I suppose I'll find out soon enough.
14 days until the Sports Festival
"10% Rocket Blast!" Ochako gritted her teeth as she flicked her fingers, blasting another UA training robot into pieces. By now, all but her thumbs were sore from the training.
"Break time, Young Uraraka!" Toshinori called out.
Grateful for the chance to rest, Ochako plopped down on a nearby bench and took a swig from her water bottle. Gym Delta was a particular gym that allowed students to train against the same kind of robots used in the entrance exam, minus the Zero Pointer.
"You're doing good. I think you'll be more than ready for the Sports Festival," Toshinori said, sitting next to his protege.
"If you say so," Ochako said, her voice oddly small and somber.
Toshinori put a hand on Ochako's shoulder. "Hey, if something's bothering you, you can tell?"
In truth, a few things were bothering Ochako. One was her newly developed feelings for her best friend. But thankfully, that wasn't the source of her current mood, as she didn't feel like trying to talk romance with her mentor.
Ochako let out a sigh of frustration and slumped against the wall. "It's just…I feel like I haven't made that much progress with One for All." She stared at her hand, fingers still tingling from One for All. "The Rocket Blast is all I can do, and I can only do it so much before my fingers break. Plus, I haven't really been training a lot with my own Quirk, so I'm probably falling behind everyone else's training."
Toshinori rubbed his angular chin in contemplation. Ochako's statements were true. She hadn't made that much progress with One for All. But then, he recalled her exact words.
"Young Uraraka, how do you think of One for All?"
"What do you mean?"
"You called Zero Gravity 'your Quirk.' So how do you label One for All?"
Ochako awkwardly rubbed the back of her head. "Well, it's the Quirk you gave me."
Toshinori stared at his student for a moment before suddenly facepalming. "I am such an idiot," Toshinori grumbled.
"What do you mean?" Ochako asked.
"I think I know what the problem is, Young Uraraka," Toshinori began, looking his student in the eye. "You see, when my teacher gave me One for All, she told this power was now mine, and mine alone. That to use One for All, I had to think of it as part of myself. It was a concept I was able to grasp relatively easily, and at the time, I didn't think why she needed to explain it. But I suppose most people have a hard reconciling a power they weren't born with as being 'theirs,' and I think that's what's holding you back."
"That's it, that's what's holding me back?" Ochako said, eyes wide in disbelief. It was such a simple concept, stupidly simple. Part of Ochako wanted to admonish her teacher for not telling her this sooner, but she was honestly embarrassed she hadn't thought of it herself. "So I've just got to change my mindset, and I'll be able to use One for All?"
"I believe so, Young Uraraka."
"Okay, so...how do I do that?"
Toshinori thought for a moment. While simple in concept, fundamentally changing how you viewed something, much less something as personal as Quirk, was hard. Suddenly, a thought occurred to Toshinori.
"Young Uraraka, do you perhaps have any family heirlooms?" he asked.
Ochako raised an eyebrow at her mentor. "What does that have to do with One for All?"
"Just humor this old man, will you."
"You're not that old...are you?" Ochako said, realizing she actually had no clue how old her mentor was. "Anyway, we do have this one thing, an old tea set. My grandma said it dates back all the way to the Pre-Quirk era if you believe her. She gave it to my mom when she married my dad."
"It must be very precious for your family to hold on to it for close to 200 years," Toshinori said. "So, would you say your mom is the owner of this tea set?"
"I mean, yeah, I just told you my grandma gave it to her," Ochako said, becoming increasingly exasperated and confused by their conversation.
"And one day your mother may very well pass that tea set along to you, just like how I gave you One for All."
Ochako stared at her mentor for a moment before her eyes widened as it all clicked.
"Young Uraraka," Toshinori said, leaning down to look his protege in the eye as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Both One for All and your family tea set are precious things, passed down through the generations. While neither I nor your grandmother were their original owners, they were entrusted to us respectively. They were our responsibility until we chose to pass them on to the next generation."
"Just like how that tea set is your mother's and she may one day pass it on to you, One for All is now yours and yours alone until the day you choose to pass it on to your successor." Toshinori's face split into a goofy grin. "I hope that made some kind of sense; my teacher was always better at these sort of speeches."
"Yeah, I think I get it," Ochako said, rising from her seat. "I want to give this one more try." Toshinori nodded, deploying one last robot for Ochako to face.
'One for All was All Might's Quirk, but he gave it to me,' Ochako chanted in her mind as she crossed the gym. 'One for All is my Quirk and my responsibility, just like Zero Gravity!'
Inside a void, a bright star shined. It flew and connected to another star. And then another. And another. The process was repeated eight times. The eighth star, shining with a bright pink light, began to fly through the void until it impacted a singularity, one pulsating with gravitational waves. The collision exploded outwards, swirling and expanding into a galaxy of pink and purple stars, all while a rainbow-colored singularity swirled in the center.
'One for All carries the touch of those who came, but right now, in this moment, I hold it. One for All is MY QUIRK!"
As Ochako reached the robot, she felt the power building inside her. It felt strange yet familiar. It felt like Zero Gravity and One for All, but also entirely new. With a yell, she channeled this power through her fist, punching the robot into the air. And to Ochako's surprise, aside from the impact of her fist hitting metal, her arm felt fine.
But what happened next surprised both Ochako and Toshinori. A pink aura engulfed the practice robot, and it crashed onto the floor with enough force to leave a dent. The robot tried to get up, but it couldn't move. It was as if an external force was pushing it down. Ochako looked at it and, out of curiosity, tapped her fingertips together.
"Release." And with that, the aura faded, and the robot stood up, though now worse for wear after the attack. "Holy fuckin'-"
"SUPERCRAP!" Toshinori shouted, so surprised that he unintentionally shifted into his 'All Might' form.
The days and weeks pass. And now…
Izuku breathed in the night air as he went for a walk. The Sports Festival was tomorrow, and to say he was nervous was an understatement. Striker was rebuilt and fully operational. The bruises from Gunhead's martial arts classes were almost fully healed. He had done all he could to prepare for the big day. And yet, he was still nervous.
What if he lost in the first event? What if he made a fool of himself? Did he miss something in Striker's reconstruction that would bite him in the ass?
But soon, Izuku realized he had arrived at Aldera Municipal Park. A place that held quite a few memories for him.
The earliest ones weren't good. Katsuki and Izuku's former 'friends' often bullied him for trying to stand up to them. Katsuki had long since apologized for 'being a horrible little shit' before they reconciled, and Izuku had long since forgiven him.
The same could not be said for the other two former members of the 'Bakugou Patrol.' Yasuo continued to be a dick from preschool all the way to middle school, turning himself a social pariah. Once Katsuki had stopped being "cool," Seita jumped ship and latched on to the next kid with a big ego and strong Quirk. And they hadn't seen Tsubasa since his family moved away. However, Izuku figured that Tsubasa was probably still a jerk to this day.
But the park had far more happy memories. He'd met Mei here. Katsuki played with him after becoming friends with him again. Memories of their families having get-togethers here. The days when ideas would materialize into Striker first manifested in his childhood imagination.
And it was those memories that filled Izuku with his resolve. He recalled the promise he had made to himself when he was four. Striker was the culmination of that promise.
He wasn't just doing this to prove the naysayers wrong. He had a dream to fulfill. And come hell or high water, he was going to see it through.
And so, the big day finally arrived.
'Fuck my life,' Takuya Aoi, age 26, thought to himself as he cleaned up another beer spill. He was hoping that today would be one of his off days. But no, Jarvis' Bar & Grill needed all hands on deck for the next three days.
On days like this, Hero-themed bars like this one were packed like Sports Bars during big games. The hero merch everywhere fed into the festive mood of seeing what the next generation of heroes would bring.
But it also meant that service workers like him were constantly going back and forth between taking orders, delivering food & drinks, and cleaning up any resulting spill.
"Aoi, Booth 3's order is up!" Hazamada shouted from the bar. Takuya sighed and scratched his deep blue hair.
"On it." He was in an especially awful mood because days like this reminded Takuya of his old dream. A dream that crashed and burned for something entirely out of his control.
As the exam proctor said before she turned down his application to Shinketsu, "You need superpowers to become a superhero."
So here he was, bussing tables while seeing kids obtain his dream. Just great.
"Hey, hey, hey! Everybody!" An excited voice shouted on the TV. "It's ya boi and main announcer, Present Mic! In the booth with me is the newest addition to the UA faculty. Give it up for…Gunhead!"
The camera then showed the aforementioned hero waving. "Heyo, everyone! Hope you're having a super day!"
"Oh, this day is most definitely gonna be super, GH! Because it's finally time! Don't change that channel, folks! Because we're just an hour away from Day 1 of…THE UNITED ALLIES SPORTS FESTIVAL!"
Author's Note 2: We're finally at the next big arc of MSRA. And my first time writing a tournament arc, so that should be fun!
I hope you guys are gonna like what our version of the Sports Festival arc is gonna be. Especially with all the foreshadowing I've been making to the rebuilt Striker.
Next Time: It's a Festival Guys! GO ALL OUT!
PLUS ULTRA!