Chapter 38 Bunny Law part 2
The gourd landed with a dull thud against the dirt, the sound marking the start of their fight. Rumi sprang into motion first, her movements fluid and sharp as she closed the gap between them. Her right foot pushed off the ground, propelling her forward with a speed that made the air snap. Izuku barely had time to adjust his stance before her fist shot out, aimed squarely at his jaw.
Izuku tilted his head at the last second, her knuckles grazing his cheek. The air rushed past him in a blur. He countered with a swift jab from his left hand, his weight balanced on the balls of his feet, but Rumi was already shifting her stance. She dipped low, her left leg snapping out in a sharp sidekick that caught Izuku's ribs.
THUD. The impact sent him sliding back a step, his boots scuffing the ground. The crowd gasped as Rumi didn't let up, her body a blur of controlled violence. She rotated on her right heel, her body twisting like a coiled spring, delivering a spinning back kick. Izuku barely raised his arm in time to block it, her heel colliding with his forearm. The force rattled up to his shoulder, but he gritted his teeth and stood his ground.
"Not bad," Rumi said, a grin tugging at her lips. "But not good enough."
Izuku shifted his weight, his right hand coming up in a sharp uppercut aimed at her midsection. Rumi twisted her torso, the punch gliding past her stomach as she stepped forward with her left leg. In a heartbeat, she brought her knee up, aiming for his ribs again. This time, Izuku stepped back, his right foot twisting to pivot out of the strike's range. The knee missed, and he pushed forward, delivering a straight punch to her shoulder.
It connected—barely. Rumi's feet slid back an inch, but she didn't falter. Instead, she grabbed his wrist and pulled, yanking him off balance. Her free hand came up in a hammer fist, and Izuku barely managed to lean to the side, the blow brushing his hair. He planted his feet firmly, twisting his hips to deliver a sidekick toward her legs. Rumi shifted again, her stance wide and stable, and she deflected the kick with her knee.
The crowd was on the edge of their seats as the two fighters traded blows. Rumi's movements were sharp and calculated, her strikes landing more often than not. Each kick came with a thunderous sound, each punch connecting with the precision of a seasoned fighter. Izuku held his own, his hands and feet constantly moving, blocking and countering as best he could, but Rumi was relentless.
She feinted left, her shoulders shifting to fake a hook. Izuku moved to block, but she spun on her heel, her right leg coming around in a high roundhouse kick. CRACK. Her shin collided with his forearm as he raised it in defense. The impact stung, his arm numb for a moment, but he used the force to roll backward and gain some distance.
Rumi didn't let up. She lunged again, throwing a flurry of punches—left jab, right cross, another left jab. Izuku ducked the first, weaved under the second, but the third clipped his chin. His head snapped back, and he stumbled, barely regaining his footing before Rumi stepped in, delivering a quick front kick to his midsection. He staggered, air rushing out of his lungs.
"Come on, Izuku!" she called, her voice fierce. "Show me what you've got!"
Izuku planted his right foot firmly, his left leg swinging up in a high kick aimed at her head. Rumi leaned back, the kick whizzing past her nose, and she used the momentum to spin into a low sweep. Her leg shot out, catching Izuku's ankle and sending him tumbling to the ground.
He rolled quickly, his palms hitting the dirt, and sprang back up. His eyes narrowed, and his breathing came heavy. "I'm not done yet," he said, a faint grin on his face.
"Good," Rumi replied, her grin widening. "I'd hate for this to be too easy."
She moved in again, her movements a perfect blend of speed and power. A spinning back kick slammed into Izuku's side, making him stagger. She followed up with a straight punch to his chest, forcing him to block with both arms. The sheer force of the punch sent him skidding back, but he held his ground.
Izuku countered with a quick jab from his right hand, then a low kick aimed at her leg. Rumi checked the kick with her shin and retaliated with a sharp knee strike. Izuku twisted his torso, avoiding the full brunt of it, and countered with a hook aimed at her ribs. It landed, but Rumi barely flinched. Instead, she grabbed his wrist, pivoted, and threw him over her shoulder. He hit the ground hard but rolled with the impact, coming back to his feet in an instant.
The crowd roared as the fight intensified. Both fighters were now covered in sweat, their movements still sharp but showing signs of wear. Izuku's breaths were heavy, his arms aching from blocking Rumi's powerful kicks and punches. Rumi's breathing was controlled, but her attacks had slowed slightly as the fight dragged on.
She feinted again, drawing his guard high, and then dropped low, delivering a sweeping kick that knocked Izuku off his feet. He hit the ground with a grunt, rolling once before scrambling back up. His left leg twisted as he pivoted, delivering a roundhouse kick that Rumi blocked with both arms.
"You're tougher than I remember," she said, a hint of admiration in her voice.
"You're not bad yourself," Izuku replied, smiling despite the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
The crowd's cheers grew louder as the two fighters circled each other again, their stances shifting with each step. The tension was palpable, every move a calculated gamble. Rumi stepped forward, her left hand coming up in a quick jab, followed by a spinning back kick. Izuku ducked the jab and blocked the kick, the impact vibrating through his arms.
Their eyes locked for a moment. Both were determined, neither willing to back down. Izuku's arms ached, his legs felt heavy, but he refused to give in. Rumi's breathing was steady, her focus razor-sharp, and her movements as fluid as ever.
In the hallway of the stadium
Midnight and Aizawa stood near the edge of the arena, just out of view of the fight. Midnight, a mischievous smile on her lips, leaned slightly closer to Aizawa. "So, aren't you glad that your stepson is alive and back in one piece?"
Aizawa gave her a flat look, arms crossed as usual. "He's not my stepson. He's my student. And, yeah, I'm glad he's back. The kid's been through enough."
She chuckled lightly. "Come on, you've got to admit it's kind of sweet. Besides, you've got your girlfriend in the stands, right? She must be thrilled her son's back."
Aizawa's brow furrowed slightly, but he didn't reply. Midnight took his silence as an acknowledgment and straightened up, glancing toward the crowd. "Anyway, we'll have a talk with him after this. Make sure he understands what he's put everyone through."
Their conversation was interrupted by a commotion nearby. Civilians and a few pro heroes were pointing toward the field, murmuring. "They're fighting right now," someone said. "The bunny girl and the drunk green-haired kid."
Both teachers exchanged a look, then followed the growing crowd. It didn't take long to see the arena center where Izuku and Rumi were going at it. The crowd, which had started as just a few curious onlookers, now swelled to include nearly everyone in the stadium, students, heroes, and civilians alike. The fight had escalated beyond a simple spar.
Back to the fight.
Izuku was clearly struggling. His movements were slower than normal, his punches easily evaded by Rumi's fluid footwork. Each time he tried to advance, she was already one step ahead, her kicks landing more often than his counters. Every hit sent him reeling back, dirt kicking up from the impact of his heels digging into the ground. The sound of her strikes was sharp, each one connecting with the crack of a whip.
"You challenged me," Rumi said, her voice clear despite the noise of the crowd. "And this is all you've got?" She laughed, the sound light but cutting. "You're gonna have to do better than that, broccoli boy."
She ducked under a sluggish hook, pivoting on her left foot to deliver a spinning back kick. The attack caught Izuku square in the chest, sending him tumbling onto his back. He coughed as he hit the ground, rolling once before lying flat. His chest heaved with heavy breaths as he looked up at her. Rumi raised an eyebrow, genuinely puzzled. "Seriously? I thought you'd at least make me sweat. You're so damn slow!"
Izuku, still on the ground, held up his hands in a "timeout" gesture. "Wait—wait—give me a second," he said, panting. His tone was more frustrated than defeated. "I've been moving super slow, and I just figured it out."
Rumi crossed her arms and smirked. "Giving up already?"
He shook his head and slowly sat up. "Not giving up. Just… realizing something. These ropes…" He gestured to the thin bindings still wrapped around his arms and legs. "I forgot to take them off."
Rumi burst out laughing. "You're kidding, right? Those little ropes were slowing you down?" She wiped at her eye. "Man, you're something else. Alright, go ahead—take 'em off. Let's see if that makes you any better."
Izuku stood, his movements more deliberate now. He spread his arms slightly, focusing. With a faint hum of telekinetic energy, the ropes came undone. As they fell to the ground, a low rumble echoed across the arena. The crowd grew silent, the air tense.
The ropes hit the dirt with a dull thud, and behind Izuku, the dust kicked up slightly. The shift in atmosphere was palpable. Some spectators gasped. Others leaned forward in their seats. Aizawa and Midnight exchanged concerned looks.
Izuku's posture straightened, his shoulders relaxing as he bounced lightly on the balls of his feet. He shifted his stance, testing his range of motion. "Oh yeah," he said with a small smile. "This is way better."
Rumi's ears twitched, her grin widening. "Oh? You think you're ready now?"
Izuku gave a quick nod, his eyes clearer than before. "Let's go."
Without missing a beat, Rumi charged in again, her fists up. She threw a quick jab, followed by a low kick aimed at his legs. Izuku sidestepped the jab, his hands now loose and ready, then hopped back just as her kick swept by his shin. The sound of her strike hitting empty air was sharp, a reminder of her speed.
Izuku moved forward with a clean one-two combination, his left jab setting up for a right cross. Rumi tilted her head to avoid the jab, raising her forearm to block the cross. The impact echoed, but this time Izuku's movements had a snap to them that wasn't there before. His punches were sharper, his footwork more refined.
The crowd roared as the intensity of their fight increased. Izuku ducked under a high kick, his left leg bending slightly as he twisted his upper body to deliver a hook to Rumi's ribs. She absorbed the blow and retaliated with a quick uppercut, forcing Izuku to raise his guard. Her punch collided with his forearms, the force pushing him back a step.
They circled each other, their breathing steady. Izuku bounced on his toes, his hands loose and relaxed, his stance light. Rumi watched him carefully, her grin never fading. "You're finally moving like you mean it," she said.
"Thanks," Izuku replied, a small smirk forming. "Let's see how long you can keep up."
The impact of their blows sent shockwaves through the ground, the arena trembling beneath their feet. Izuku and Rumi moved faster, their strikes hitting harder, creating small craters and cracks in the floor. The once-even surface now bore the scars of their battle—splintered stone, displaced debris, and the occasional fragment of shattered tiles sent flying into the air.
Izuku ducked under a spinning kick, his feet skidding slightly as he twisted into a low sweep. Rumi hopped over it, using the momentum to deliver a downward punch that smashed into the ground. Stone fragments exploded upward, forcing Izuku to roll out of the way. He pushed off the ground with his hands, landing in a crouch just as Rumi's next kick narrowly missed his head.
"This is insane!" Mei muttered from the stands, her hands clenched into fists. "They're going to destroy the arena at this rate."
Himiko, sitting next to her, nodded. "It's not just a spar anymore. Look at how they're moving. They're trying to see who can really come out on top."
Students from various classes were gathering in the stands now, their chatter growing louder. "Is this even allowed?" a 1-B student asked, watching the ground quake beneath Rumi's strikes.
Jiro, crossing her arms, frowned. "Technically, they're not in the official event right now. I guess it's just... a really intense warm-up?"
Another student from 1-A pointed toward Izuku. "But he just got back! How's he keeping up with her?"
"He's not just keeping up," Ibara said quietly, watching as Izuku narrowly evaded another of Rumi's spinning kicks. "He's adapting. He was slower before, but now... he's learning."
Down on the field, the sound of punches and kicks echoed like thunderclaps. Izuku lunged forward, his left fist snapping out in a straight jab. Rumi deflected it with her forearm, countering with a high kick that forced Izuku to duck. Her foot smashed into the stone pillar behind him, shattering it into chunks that fell around them.
Izuku twisted on one foot, using the falling debris as cover. He launched a low kick aimed at Rumi's legs. She jumped back, dodging just in time, but her eyes gleamed with excitement. "That's more like it, broccoli boy!"
He grinned through the sweat dripping down his face. "You're not so bad yourself, rabbit girl."
Rumi chuckled, then closed the gap with a quick burst of speed. Her punch grazed his shoulder, but Izuku managed to sidestep the follow-up. He retaliated with a quick combination—a left jab, a right hook, and a low kick. Rumi parried the punches, then raised her knee to block the kick. The collision created a dull thunk that sent vibrations up both of their legs.
The crowd was roaring now, the noise deafening as the two fighters continued their exchange. Students leaned over the railings, their excitement mounting with each strike. "They're insane!" one yelled. "Look at that, he just dodged her again!"
Mei frowned, her eyes darting between the fighters. "How long can they keep this up? Rumi's not holding back at all."
"That's the point," Himiko replied, her fox tail twitching. "They're both giving it everything. No holding back."
Meanwhile, the teachers stood at the edge of the arena, their faces tense. Midnight turned to Aizawa. "Should we step in? They're going too far."
Aizawa's gaze remained fixed on the fight. "They've got two hours before the next event. Let them do what they want. They're just sparring—at least for now."
Midnight crossed her arms. "This isn't a normal spar. They're practically tearing the place apart."
Aizawa didn't flinch. "If it gets out of hand, we'll stop them. But for now, let them fight."
Inko, however, was far from calm. Watching her son dodge and weave against Rumi's relentless attacks made her chest tighten. She pushed her way through the crowd, clutching her phone. "Aizawa!" she called out, her voice rising above the spectators. "Stop this fight! He just got back, and now you're letting this happen?"
Aizawa answered the phone, his expression calm. "They're fine for now. If it intensifies, we'll intervene."
"But—" Inko started, her voice shaking.
"I'll make sure nothing happens to him," Aizawa interrupted gently. "Trust me. They're sparring, not fighting for their lives. We'll step in if it goes too far."
Inko hesitated, her grip tightening on her phone. Finally, she nodded, though her worry didn't fade. "Alright," she said softly. "Just... keep an eye on them."
Aizawa gave her a small nod before hanging up his attention back to the battle. Midnight glanced at him. "You're awfully calm about this."
"They've got spirit," Aizawa replied. "And sometimes, you've got to let them burn it out."
Back on the field, Izuku was still holding his own, though it was clear Rumi had the upper hand. Her strikes landed more frequently, and her speed kept him on the defensive. She lunged forward, aiming a powerful spinning kick at his head. Izuku ducked, but the force of her kick sent a gust of wind that rattled the debris around them.
"Come on, Midoriya!" Rumi shouted, her voice tinged with excitement. "Show me what you've got!"
Izuku gritted his teeth, his eyes narrowing as he shifted his weight. "You asked for it."
He stepped in with a sudden burst of speed, throwing a flurry of punches that forced Rumi to block. Her forearms absorbed the hits, but Izuku's movements were faster now, his punches sharper. He twisted his torso, delivering a low kick that caught her off balance. Rumi stumbled slightly but recovered quickly, her grin widening.
"You're getting better," she admitted, launching a counterattack. Her punch grazed his ribs, her knee following up to his side. Izuku blocked with both arms, the impact ringing out like a bell.
Without warning, he slammed his fist into the ground. A burst of ki erupted from his body, and slabs of concrete and dirt shot upward, forming a chaotic whirlwind of debris. The explosion of sound and motion momentarily obscured Rumi's vision. For a second, Izuku hoped the dust would give him the upper hand.
Rumi coughed once, then smirked. Her ears flicked, and she tilted her head slightly. "Nice try, broccoli boy," she teased. "But I don't need my eyes to handle you."
Even through the dust storm, her keen hearing picked up the subtle crunch of his boots against the shifting debris. She dodged his first punch with a fluid sidestep, her body twisting gracefully to avoid his follow-up kick. The ground trembled as his attack missed, creating another crack in the already fractured field.
"Not bad," Rumi taunted, her voice light and teasing. "But if you're going to keep throwing punches like that, I might start thinking you're doing it just to hold my hand."
Izuku growled under his breath, his cheeks tinged red. "And if you keep dodging, I might start thinking you're just trying to stay close."
"Oh, I am," she replied smoothly, ducking another swing. "But only because you're finally starting to make this fun."
The exchange of blows grew faster. Rumi's movements were sharp and precise. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, her muscles coiling and releasing like a spring. Each dodge was calculated, her body bending and twisting to avoid Izuku's relentless strikes. Her ears twitched with every movement he made, allowing her to anticipate his next attack.
Izuku, on the other hand, moved with raw intensity. He punched and kicked with force, his feet sliding and pivoting as he tried to corner her. When she dodged, he adjusted, aiming lower or higher, switching his stances. His punches carved through the air, sending brief gusts of wind that kicked up the dust even more. But Rumi stayed one step ahead, her light-footed movements making her seem untouchable.
"I didn't know you could dance," she teased as she ducked under a right hook.
"I didn't know you'd make this so hard," he shot back, leaping forward with a straight jab.
She deflected it with her forearm, twisting her body to bring her knee up toward his ribs. He blocked it just in time, the impact ringing out like a dull bell. They both grinned. his a bit more frustrated, hers downright gleeful.
"You know, for someone who's so tough, you sure blush easily," Rumi quipped, darting around him and landing a quick kick to his side.
Izuku winced but recovered quickly. "Maybe it's because you won't stop flirting during a fight."
"Oh, please," she said, spinning on her heel to dodge another blow. "You love it. Admit it."
He tried to counter with a sweeping kick, but she hopped over it, laughing. "See? Even now, you're trying to sweep me off my feet."
"Is it working?" he asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Not yet," she said, landing gracefully on the ground. "But keep trying. You're almost there."
Izuku's eyes narrowed, and he placed his hands together. With a pulse of telekinesis, the slabs of concrete he'd previously thrown into the air froze in place. The dust swirled around them, creating a dizzying storm of stone and dirt. For a moment, Rumi glanced upward, noticing how the pieces hung ominously in the air.
"That's new," she said, tilting her head. "You've been holding back on me, haven't you?"
"Maybe a little," Izuku admitted, his voice steady despite the strain. "I wanted to make sure you were impressed."
"I'm impressed, alright," Rumi said, crouching slightly. "But you better hope you can keep up."
Without hesitation, she launched herself into the air. The slabs of concrete began to move, swirling toward her in a chaotic pattern. She twisted and flipped between them, her body moving like water through a jagged stream. Each piece came dangerously close, but she weaved through them with the precision of a seasoned fighter.
Izuku gritted his teeth, focusing harder. The floating slabs shifted again, speeding up and changing angles. He directed them toward her, one after another. Each time, she dodged. She pushed off one piece with her feet, using it as a springboard to dive past another. Her movements were almost playful, her grin never fading.
"This all you got?" Rumi teased, jumping to another piece of concrete. "You're going to have to try harder than that."
Izuku let out a frustrated growl, leaping into the air after her. Using his telekinesis, he propelled himself from slab to slab, mirroring her movements. The two fighters became a blur of motion, their strikes and counters blending into a deadly dance. Every time they got close, they exchanged a quick series of punches and kicks before landing on another floating piece of debris.
The impacts grew heavier, the sound echoing through the stadium. Izuku's punches started to connect more often, his timing improving with each exchange. Rumi responded with even faster counters, her kicks slicing through the air and forcing him to stay on the defensive.
"You're sweating," she noted with a grin, blocking a punch and countering with an elbow aimed at his shoulder.
"You're bleeding," he shot back, dodging and retaliating with a quick jab that grazed her cheek.
Rumi wiped the small cut with her hand, then licked the blood off her fingers. "Guess you're finally getting serious."
Izuku leapt off the nearest slab, his boots hitting the floating piece of concrete with enough force to send a tremor through it. The piece teetered but stayed aloft, suspended by the swirling telekinetic energy. Across from him, Rumi stood poised on another slab, her stance low and ready, her grin wild.
"You're getting better," she called over the roaring wind of the debris storm. A fleck of blood dripped from a cut on her cheek, but she wiped it away with the back of her glove, her eyes never leaving him. "But you're gonna have to hit harder than that if you want to win my respect."
Izuku chuckled, though his breathing was heavy. He bounced lightly on the balls of his feet, his hands loose in front of him. "What, this isn't enough for you, bunny girl?"
"Not even close," she shot back, then sprang toward him.
Rumi's movement was a blur. She leapt from her slab to his, her leg snapping out in a high kick aimed at his temple. Izuku ducked low, the wind from her kick ruffling his hair, and countered with an uppercut. She twisted mid-air, her body fluid and fast, landing a solid elbow to his shoulder as she passed. Izuku staggered back, blood dripping from a split lip, but he smirked.
"You fight dirty," he muttered, straightening up.
"Just the way you like it," Rumi replied with a wink.
Izuku charged again, feinting left before throwing a low kick. Rumi blocked it with her shin, the impact sending vibrations up her leg, but she didn't falter. She shifted her stance and lashed out with a spinning back kick, catching Izuku in the ribs. He grunted, stumbling onto another slab, his boots skidding as he regained his balance.
"You talk big," she teased, "but all you're doing is dodging."
"Maybe I'm just letting you tire yourself out," Izuku shot back, raising his fists again.
Rumi's laugh was sharp and challenging. "Tire me out? Oh, honey, I'm just getting started."
She rushed him again, throwing a barrage of punches. Izuku blocked the first two, slipped the third, and then retaliated with a quick jab to her stomach. She took the hit and kept coming, her fists moving faster, each strike more precise. Blood splattered onto the slabs beneath them as they exchanged blow after blow, their movements so fast it was hard to keep track.
Izuku ducked another spinning kick, this time retaliating with a straight punch to her shoulder. She rolled with the hit, her grin widening. "That's more like it! Now you're giving me something to work with."
"I'll show you something," he muttered, his breath ragged. He planted his feet and sent a burst of telekinetic energy outward, launching the slabs around them into chaos. The debris flew in all directions, creating a swirling storm of stone. Dust filled the air, making it harder to see.
"Cheap trick," Rumi said, her ears twitching. She dodged one slab, then another, her movements precise and fluid. "You think a little dust is gonna stop me?"
"Maybe not," Izuku replied, a smirk tugging at his lips. "But it's enough to slow you down."
Rumi's eyes narrowed as the slabs stopped mid-air. She realized too late that Izuku was controlling them, holding them in place. With a flick of his wrist, he sent them crashing toward her. She jumped, twisted, and kicked off one of the slabs, flipping through the air as they came at her from all angles. Her movements were like a dance, each dodge and weave perfectly timed.
"You call that a trap?" she taunted, landing on a floating slab and crouching low. "I've seen better."
"I'm not done yet," Izuku said. He focused, gathering all the floating debris into a single massive cluster above her. The weight of it made the air hum with tension. "Let's see you handle this!"
He brought his hands together, sending the entire mass crashing down toward Rumi. She looked up, her grin unwavering. As the slabs closed in, she bent her knees, gathering her strength. At the last moment, she launched herself upward, kicking straight into the cluster. Her kick connected with explosive force, shattering the debris into countless fragments.
The crowd erupted as dust and shards rained down. Rumi landed gracefully, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. "Is that all you've got?" she called out, her voice ringing with confidence.
Izuku smirked, his hands glowing faintly with psychic energy. "Not quite."
As Rumi charged forward, Izuku raised his hand, and a green, glowing figure burst forth from his body. It was an exact copy of him, shimmering with telekinetic energy. The construct darted toward Rumi, throwing a quick punch. She dodged, her ears flicking as she realized it was solid. Another construct appeared behind her, aiming a low kick. She leapt over it, spinning mid-air to strike the first clone with a powerful roundhouse kick. The clone dissolved on impact.
"What are these?" she asked, landing and sliding into a crouch.
"Psychic clones," Izuku said, stepping closer. "They don't last long, but they're strong."
Rumi's grin widened. "Strong, huh? Let's see how strong."
She dashed toward him, dodging another clone's punch and leaping over a third's kick. Izuku watched her movements closely, sending more constructs her way. The fight became a chaotic blur of motion, with Rumi weaving through the clones and delivering precise strikes to each one before it disappeared.
The slabs of concrete began to fall again, the storm dispersing as Izuku focused more on creating clones. Rumi noticed the change in his movements. "You're losing steam, broccoli boy," she teased, ducking under a clone's punch and landing a swift uppercut to another.
"Maybe," Izuku admitted, wiping blood from his chin. "But you're having fun, aren't you?"
Rumi chuckled, her voice low and full of excitement. "Oh, I'm loving this. Let's keep it going."
Izuku's arms moved in tight, controlled arcs, his fists whipping forward in quick jabs that forced Rumi to pivot sharply on her left foot. Each blow grazed her by millimeters, the sheer speed of his strikes keeping her on the defensive. Rumi's ears twitched in the dust-filled air, her muscles tensing as she ducked low to avoid a spinning kick. Her movements were fluid, each dodge seamlessly transitioning into her next step, her body coiled like a spring waiting to release.
But the clones were relentless. Izuku conjured them at just the right moment—one materializing above her, slamming downward with a phantom elbow. Rumi twisted her torso to the side, her ribs brushing against the attack as she retaliated with a sweeping kick. Her foot connected with the clone's midsection, shattering it into wisps of green energy. Before she could recover, another clone appeared at her back. She spun on her heel, her leg snapping out in a sharp back kick that destroyed the new threat. Yet, the brief moment spent dealing with the clone gave Izuku the opening he needed.
He closed the gap, his shoulder dipping low as he drove forward with a palm strike aimed at her chest. Rumi deflected it with a quick swipe of her forearm, the impact sending a jolt up her arm. Her breath hitched as she twisted to the side, narrowly dodging a follow-up uppercut. She countered with a quick knee strike, but Izuku swayed back, the attack missing by inches.
The two fighters circled each other, their footwork precise and calculated. Izuku's clones flickered in and out, each one lasting only seconds but forcing Rumi to constantly adjust her position. She crouched low, her center of gravity steady, as she blocked a sweeping punch from one of the clones. Her right arm shot out in a jab, breaking the clone apart, only to have another appear just above her. With a powerful leap, she pushed off the ground, flipping backward as the clone's kick passed through empty air.
"She's fighting like her life depends on it," Mei murmured from the stands, her hands gripping the railing tightly.
"Izuku's pushing her into a corner," Himiko added, her fox ears flicking with excitement. "That's my broccoli boy—he's got her on the ropes!"
"Don't jinx it!" Eri piped up, clutching her hands together. "Papa's not invincible, you know!"
Meanwhile, the students nearby were equally absorbed. Ochako's eyes were wide as she leaned over the railing. "Wow… they're moving so fast. I can't even see all their punches."
Melissa, standing beside her, nodded. "It's like watching two master-level fighters. But… how is Izuku keeping up? I thought he was running out of energy."
"Just because his quirk's draining doesn't mean he can't fight," Jiro commented, adjusting her earpiece. "But still… he's burning through those clones quickly."
On the other side, Bakugo's teeth clenched as he watched the fight. "That idiot's just showing off," he grumbled. "All this fancy crap… like he's got something to prove."
Todoroki's expression remained calm, though his brow twitched. "He's not showing off. He's testing himself. It's… frustrating to watch, though. I thought I'd have the advantage, but he's just…"
"Better than us?" Iida finished, his tone carrying a mixture of admiration and irritation. "His strategy with the clones… it's impeccable."
Back on the field, Rumi planted her feet firmly as another clone came at her from the side. She dodged left, then right, her movements fluid as she weaved between the phantom strikes. Her muscles burned, the effort of keeping up with the relentless onslaught pushing her to her limits. But she wasn't just defending—each dodge flowed into a counterattack. A sharp jab here, a low kick there. The sound of her strikes cutting through the air punctuated the heavy silence that had fallen over the arena.
Izuku's clones worked in unison with his own movements. As he feinted left, a clone would appear on her right, forcing her to divide her attention. When she focused on him, another clone would drop from above, aiming for her head. Rumi's breath came in short bursts as she twisted her torso, narrowly avoiding a spinning backfist. She retaliated with a snap kick, but Izuku ducked, the gust of wind from her strike ruffling his hair.
"They're evenly matched," Ochako said, her voice filled with awe.
"Not quite," Melissa pointed out. "Rumi's attacks are stronger, but Izuku's strategy is throwing her off balance."
"But can he keep it up?" Jiro asked, her brows furrowed. "He's been using those clones like crazy. He's gotta be running on fumes by now."
Himiko smirked, leaning forward. "You don't know Izuku. He doesn't stop until he can't move anymore."
Back in the fight, Izuku's movements slowed slightly, his attacks still precise but lacking the same sharpness. Rumi noticed it immediately, her eyes narrowing as she pressed the attack. She spun on her heel, delivering a powerful roundhouse kick. Izuku blocked with his forearms, the impact forcing him to slide back. His clones were fewer now, each one lasting barely a second before shattering. But even as his resources dwindled, his determination burned brighter.
Rumi lunged forward, aiming a jab at his chest. He sidestepped, his body twisting at the waist as he countered with a left hook. She ducked under it, her knees bending low as she came up with an uppercut. Izuku leaned back, the punch grazing his chin, and he retaliated with a sweeping low kick. Rumi jumped, her body curving gracefully in mid-air, before landing and immediately throwing a straight punch.
This time, Izuku's last clone materialized behind her. It grabbed her wrist, halting her momentum for just a moment. That was all Izuku needed. He surged forward, his right fist connecting with her side. The force made her stumble, her breath hitching from the impact.
She recovered quickly, her lips curling into a smile. Sweat dripped down her forehead, mingling with the faint streaks of blood on her cheek. Izuku's own face was a mess, a trickle of blood running from his nose and his arms bruised from blocking so many of her powerful strikes. They stood a few feet apart, their eyes locked, both breathing hard.
Izuku's chest heaved, his shoulders slumping as he felt the last remnants of his energy slipping away. His arms ached from the strain, the faint glow of his psychic enhancements flickering. Blood trickled down his temple, mixing with sweat and dirt, but he couldn't stop now. Across from him, Rumi was in similar shape—her lips were split, her knuckles raw and bruised, and her once-pristine white hair clung to her face in clumps.
They locked eyes, the moment heavy with unspoken respect. Then, without a word, they charged each other again.
Rumi threw the first punch, a sharp straight aimed for his jaw. Izuku swayed just enough to avoid the full impact, but her fist still grazed his cheek. The force twisted his head to the side, a thin spray of blood flying from his mouth. He answered with a quick left hook, his arm cutting a sharp arc. She raised her forearm to block, absorbing the blow with a grunt before countering with a spinning back kick. Her foot slammed into his ribs, a sickening crunch echoing through the arena.
Izuku staggered, his vision swimming, but he refused to fall. He planted his feet and lunged forward, using the momentum to land a short but brutal uppercut to her stomach. Rumi doubled over slightly, but her leg snapped up in a knee strike that caught him under the chin. His teeth clacked together, his head snapping back, yet he kept his footing, sheer willpower keeping him upright.
The crowd watched in horrified awe. "They have to stop," Uraraka said, gripping the edge of her seat. "They're going to kill each other at this rate."
Melissa shook her head, her voice tight with worry. "They're too stubborn. Neither of them will give up."
Himiko gritted her teeth, her fox ears flattened against her head. "Come on, Izuku, you're better than this. Just end it already!"
But the two fighters ignored the cries from the stands. Their world had narrowed to just each other. Every punch, every kick, every dodge felt personal. The impacts were loud and visceral, a symphony of violence that left no room for hesitation.
Izuku swung a wide right, his psychic lens flaring for a moment as it enhanced the blow. Rumi stepped into it, taking the punch on her shoulder but immediately retaliating with an elbow that slammed into his cheekbone. The crack of bone was unmistakable. Izuku's vision blurred, but he didn't stop. He stepped in closer, using the point of his elbow to strike her in the ribs, forcing a gasp from her lips.
Rumi's leg shot up, a powerful roundhouse kick aimed for his side. He moved to block, but his already-weakened arm gave out. Her shin connected with his elbow, bending it the wrong way. A loud snap cut through the air, and Izuku cried out in pain, clutching his broken arm for a split second.
But that was all he gave her, a split second. He gritted his teeth, turning the injury into a weapon. With his arm hanging awkwardly, he stepped in close and used the broken elbow as a blunt instrument. The jagged point slammed into her side, and she grimaced, stumbling back.
"Damn it, Izuku!" she shouted, her voice hoarse. "Just stay down already!"
"Not a chance," he spat, blood dripping from his lips. His voice was ragged, but his stance remained firm. "Not until you give up first."
"Like hell I will!" she shot back, charging him again.
The two collided, fists and feet flying. Izuku's good arm lashed out in a series of jabs, forcing her to block. Each time her forearms came up to shield her face, his elbow found another mark—her ribs, her side, even her thigh. She retaliated with short, brutal kicks, her legs moving like pistons. One slammed into his shin, nearly buckling his knee, but he turned it into a spinning backfist. It connected with her jaw, sending a thin line of blood trailing from her mouth.
The crowd's protests grew louder. "Stop them!" someone yelled. "They're going to kill each other!"
"I can't watch this," another said, turning away.
But the teachers remained still, Aizawa's voice calm yet firm. "Let them finish. They need this."
Rumi's movements became more erratic as the fight wore on. She was still fast, but the precision she'd shown earlier was fading. Her punches came in heavy, desperate bursts. Izuku took advantage, slipping just out of range and landing sharp counterstrikes. His broken arm hung limp at his side, yet he still swung with it when the opportunity arose, each impact driving home the point that he wasn't done yet.
"Your form's slipping," he managed to say between breaths, his voice taunting.
"Your face is slipping," she shot back, her voice sharp with frustration. She swung a high kick that grazed the top of his head. He countered with a low sweep, forcing her to hop back.
Their world narrowed even further. Each blow felt heavier, each step more deliberate. The ground beneath them was splattered with blood, dust, and sweat. Their clothes clung to their battered bodies, torn and stained. Yet, through it all, they kept going, neither willing to be the one to surrender.
As Rumi lunged forward with a final, desperate punch, Izuku ducked low and swung his knee up, catching her in the stomach. She gasped, her body folding slightly, but she brought her elbow down on his back in a crushing blow. They both collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily, their bloodied forms mirrored in their exhaustion.
Both fighters staggered to their feet, their bodies trembling from exhaustion, yet neither would allow themselves to fall. Their eyes locked, blood streaking down their faces, sweat dripping onto the broken ground. And then they moved.
Izuku lunged forward first, his fists a blur. Rumi matched his speed, her legs swinging upward in a sharp arc. Their attacks collided midair, the impact reverberating like a thunderclap. They barely touched the ground before exploding into a storm of strikes—punches and kicks so fast and fierce that each missed attack sent shockwaves through the air. Dust and shards of stone flew around them, the debris from their earlier clash now caught in their whirlwind of violence.
Rumi pivoted sharply, her heel slicing through the space where Izuku's ribs had been just moments earlier. He ducked, using his bent knee as a spring to thrust himself forward into a tight elbow strike. She blocked it with her forearm, the force making her slide back several feet, her feet carving shallow trenches in the dirt. Without missing a beat, she leapt forward, spinning into a roundhouse kick that caught him in the shoulder. He twisted with the blow, planting his feet just in time to catch her next attack on his wrist. The impact jolted his arm, but he stepped into her guard, driving a knee into her stomach.
Rumi grunted, her hands slamming down onto his knee before he could retract it. She spun in close, delivering a sharp elbow into his side, forcing him back. Izuku stumbled, but he retaliated with a flurry of jabs that forced her to retreat. She weaved through his strikes, the two fighters moving in sync—ducking, dodging, parrying—each motion seamless and fluid.
The ground beneath them cracked as they moved. Each time Rumi planted her foot, the dirt gave way slightly, a testament to the force she was generating. Izuku's punches became heavier, each one sending vibrations through her arms as she blocked. Despite their fatigue, their bodies moved faster, adrenaline propelling them beyond their limits. Blood sprayed into the air from a particularly vicious strike, but neither seemed to notice. The crowd was screaming, their cries lost in the cacophony of the fight.
They stepped back briefly, both breathing heavily, only to charge again. Rumi launched herself upward, aiming a spinning kick for his head. Izuku raised both arms, catching her shin just before it connected. The impact jolted his broken arm, making him grimace, but he didn't let go. With a burst of psychic energy, he created a shimmering cast around his arm, forcing it back into place even as his muscles screamed in protest. Rumi twisted out of his grip and landed lightly, her feet barely brushing the ground before she launched another flurry of kicks.
Izuku deflected the first two, his hands moving in tight arcs, but the third kick slipped through, slamming into his ribs and sending him skidding backward. He crouched low, his hands brushing the dirt before he sprang forward. He spun midair, his knee coming around in a vicious arc. Rumi blocked it, but the force sent her stumbling back. She retaliated with a sweeping low kick that caught Izuku's ankle, sending him crashing to the ground. The moment he hit, he rolled, narrowly avoiding her follow-up stomp that cracked the earth beneath it.
Blood smeared across the ground as they pushed harder. Rumi's punches came like a relentless drumbeat—each one sharp, deliberate, and aimed to end the fight. Izuku wove between them, his movements almost serpentine as he tried to find an opening. His broken arm hung limply, but he used his good hand to guide a psychic enhancement to his legs, making his steps faster, his dodges smoother. When Rumi's fist finally grazed his cheek, he twisted his body to deliver a counterpunch that caught her just below the ribs. The blow forced her back, blood dripping from her mouth.
But she didn't stop. She surged forward again, her muscles coiling and releasing with the precision of a coiled spring. Izuku matched her, their limbs a blur of movement as they exchanged blow after blow. His knuckles split open from the repeated impacts, his blood mingling with hers on the ground. Rumi's face was bruised, one eye swelling shut, but her grin never faltered. She moved with the same reckless determination, her kicks coming harder, faster, more desperate.
Then came the breaking point. They moved simultaneously, their legs swinging out in wide arcs. Their roundhouse kicks collided midair with a sickening crack. Izuku's leg gave out first, snapping back at the knee. The sound was sharp, causing a few spectators to flinch and look away. He hit the ground hard, his breath catching in his throat as pain flared through his body.
Rumi didn't let up. She jumped high, twisting into a spinning kick that sent him tumbling across the battlefield. He landed in a crumpled heap against the stadium wall, the impact creating a crater that sent cracks spidering out through the concrete. Dust and debris rained down around him. The crowd erupted into chaos, voices overlapping as pro heroes moved to intervene.
But before they could reach him, Izuku's body tensed. He gritted his teeth, using the last dregs of his psychic energy to cast another shimmering lens around his broken limb. With a strained roar, he snapped his leg back into place and pushed off the wall, launching himself into the air. Rumi was already coming at him, her legs a blur as she closed the distance. He caught her by the legs mid-leap, spinning with the momentum and slamming her into the ground.
The shockwave sent loose gravel and dust flying in all directions. Rumi hit hard, but she rolled immediately, avoiding Izuku's follow-up strike. She flipped onto her feet, blood trailing from a split lip, and darted back into the fray. They met again, this time both of them bleeding profusely, their faces battered and swollen. Each punch and kick now came with a grunt of pain, their bodies showing the toll of the prolonged fight.
The stadium shook as they continued. Rumi's knee drove into his side, eliciting a sharp cry. Izuku retaliated with an elbow strike that cracked against her temple. She staggered, blood trickling down her neck, but she kept going. Her fist slammed into his jaw, sending him spinning. He fell to one knee, gasping for breath, before springing up with a sudden burst of energy, driving a punch into her stomach that lifted her off the ground.
Both fighters stood swaying on unsteady legs, their bodies beaten and bloodied beyond recognition. Their breaths came out in ragged gasps, each inhale sounding more like a wheeze than a breath. Izuku's left arm hung limply, his shoulder clearly dislocated, while blood dripped from his forehead, trailing down to his chin and pooling on the shattered ground below. Rumi wasn't faring any better—her once-white hair was streaked with crimson, her chest rising and falling with visible effort, every breath causing a painful hitch in her ribs.
They stood barely a foot apart, locked in a brutal embrace of mutual destruction. Each time Izuku threw a punch, Rumi would answer with a kick. Each time she tried to dodge, he would catch her with a well-placed knee. Their movements were sluggish, each blow slower than the last, but the sheer force of their will kept them going. They clung to each other, using one another for balance even as they continued to strike. Blood splattered with every hit, staining the broken tiles and sending faint red mist into the air.
Rumi swung a wild hook, her fist colliding with Izuku's jaw. His head snapped to the side, more blood flying from his split lip. But he didn't fall. He countered with a low kick to her thigh, causing her leg to buckle. She staggered, but her hands came up, grabbing his collar as she launched a knee into his abdomen. The crowd flinched at the sound of the impact, a sickening thud that echoed through the otherwise silent stadium.
Despite the calls from the audience and the muffled shouts of the teachers, the two fighters paid no attention. They were lost in their own world, a violent, bloody dance where only the two of them existed. Each punch and kick was thrown with every ounce of strength they had left, even as their bodies threatened to give out. When one stumbled, the other followed, refusing to let the fight end until one of them dropped for good.
Mei covered her mouth, her eyes wide with horror. "They're going to kill each other," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Himiko gritted her teeth, her fox ears flattened against her head. "Come on, broccoli boy. End it. Please."
Even Bakugo, known for his brashness, was silent, his usual smirk replaced with a frown. "Idiots," he muttered under his breath, though his gaze remained glued to the fight.
As Rumi's punches began to slow, Izuku took a step back. His legs trembled, and it seemed for a moment like he might collapse. But then he moved forward, placing a hand against her chest. His fingers trembled, but they stayed steady enough to press against her sternum.
Rumi blinked, her vision blurry. "What the hell are you—"
Before she could finish, Izuku's other hand clenched into a fist. A faint glow of energy flickered around his knuckles, and then it hit—a rapid-fire barrage of one-inch punches that rattled through her chest like a machine gun. The crowd gasped as the sound of cracking ribs cut through the air. Rumi's body was flung backward, her feet leaving the ground for a brief moment before she flipped and landed on all fours. She wavered, her legs barely holding her up, but she stood, blood dripping from her mouth as she gasped for air.
"You… bastard…" she whispered, her voice a mix of pain and admiration.
Izuku didn't reply. He couldn't. His entire body screamed in agony, every muscle and bone begging him to stop. But he pushed forward, his legs moving on pure instinct. Rumi saw him coming and gritted her teeth, forcing her battered body to meet him one last time.
They charged at each other, the ground shaking beneath their feet. Faster, faster, their movements became a blur as they closed the distance. Each step left behind a trail of blood, each breath a painful rasp. And then, with all the strength they had left, they swung.
Izuku's punch connected first, slamming into Rumi's jaw. Her head snapped back, blood spraying into the air. But her fist followed immediately after, crashing into his temple. The impact sent both of them flying in opposite directions. Izuku hit the ground first, his body crumpling into a heap. Rumi landed a second later, barely catching herself before collapsing.
The stadium was dead silent, the only sound the faint wind carrying the cries of a horrified audience. Then, slowly, Izuku pushed himself onto his side. His arm trembled as he tried to stand, his broken ribs and dislocated shoulder screaming in protest. He managed to get one knee under him, then the other, his breathing shallow but determined.
Rumi groaned, flipping onto her back before rolling onto all fours. She pushed herself up, her legs wobbling as she forced herself upright. They locked eyes once again, their gazes filled with mutual respect and unyielding resolve. They stumbled toward each other, their movements slow and unsteady, until they were close enough to grab each other's collars.
Their fists rose, but before the final blow could land, Rumi's body sagged. Her grip on his collar loosened, and her eyes closed as she slumped forward. Izuku caught her for a moment, then let her slide to the ground. His legs finally gave out, and he collapsed next to her, his chest heaving as he gasped for air.
"Good fight," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "You did… good."
The crowd erupted into noise, a mix of cheers, gasps, and panicked calls for medical attention. Teachers and pro heroes rushed onto the field, finally able to intervene now that the fight was over. The two fighters were carefully lifted onto stretchers, their bloodied forms a testament to the brutal battle they had just endured.
Nurses room
When Izuku and Rumi opened their eyes, the first thing they saw was Eri. She was standing at their bedside, wearing a tiny nurse's hat and glaring at both of them. Her cheeks puffed out in anger, and her hands were on her hips. "Papa, you're an idiot!" she scolded, her voice trembling. "And Bunny Mama, you're an idiot too!"
Izuku tried to sit up, only to wince as his body reminded him of his condition. He looked around, noticing that his major injuries were gone. His ribs felt solid, his arm no longer hung at an odd angle, and his cuts were closed. Eri huffed, crossing her arms. "You're lucky I was here to heal you. Both of you are so dumb!"
Rumi chuckled weakly, her voice still raspy. "Yeah, yeah, we get it, kid."
Mei and Himiko stood nearby, their expressions a mix of relief and frustration. Mei pointed a wrench at Izuku. "What were you thinking, fighting like that right after you came back?!"
Himiko smacked his shoulder, not hard, but enough to make her point. "You scared us, broccoli head. And you too, Bunny Mama! You both need to stop acting like reckless maniacs."
Izuku scratched his head, a sheepish grin on his face. "Sorry… but I couldn't back down."
Rumi just smirked. "Yeah. Worth it, though."
Eri stomped her little foot, her cheeks puffing out again. "No! Not worth it! You promised not to make me worry, Papa!"
Izuku reached out, ruffling her hair gently. "Sorry, Eri. I'll try to be more careful next time."
Mei and Himiko rolled their eyes in unison. "Next time?!" they both exclaimed.
Author's Notes:
Thank you all for your continued support! I know this chapter was light on dialogue and heavier on the fight scene, but I really wanted to showcase the intensity of that moment. Next chapter, we'll shift focus back to the girls and give our favorite broccoli boy some much-needed interaction and reflection.
I appreciate everyone's patience, this one took a bit longer because I've been juggling a lot lately, but I'm glad I finally finished it. I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and as always, I'm grateful for your reviews and feedback. Thanks again for sticking with me, and I'll see you in the next chapter!