Chapter 14: Let's Rumble Round 3 Finale
The arena floor hummed beneath the crowd's anticipation, a low tremor that rippled through every heartbeat. The repairs were finished, the stone tiles smooth once more—but that clean slate only served as a challenge now, waiting to be shattered again.
Izuku Midoriya stepped into the light.
Not with thunder, not with bluster.
But with purpose.
The scarring on his arm was still fresh, his breathing steady but careful, and yet his movements were light. Measured. A spark danced behind his eyes. The aftershocks of his clash with Todoroki hadn't dimmed him—they'd sharpened him.
From the opposite end, Tenya Iida emerged like a blade drawn from a sheath.
Upright. Composed. Dignified. His engines let out a subtle whrrr as he took position, steam venting in quiet hisses from the vents at his calves.
Midnight's voice rang out.
"Begin!"
Iida moved instantly—a blur of blue slicing across the arena, engines bursting with a roar of thrust. His foot slammed down like a piston, the shockwave trailing behind him as he surged in, a blur to the untrained eye.
But Izuku didn't budge. He sidestepped. A single shift of weight—precise, effortless.
Iida flew past.
The crowd gasped as Iida skidded, twisting mid-motion and launching into another burst. His speed was punishing, the force of his dash tearing shallow grooves in the tile.
But again—Izuku moved like water.
He didn't dodge out of fear—he danced. With control. With rhythm. Each footstep barely touched the ground before the next followed, his body shifting just outside Iida's striking path every time.
--
Commentary Booth
"He's toying with the tempo," Aizawa muttered, eyes tracking the movement below.
Present Mic leaned in, voice crackling with excitement. "And it's not just speed—it's rhythm! Midoriya's not reacting. He's predicting!"
--
Iida pivoted into a high-gear dash, blasting forward at an angle. This time, he anticipated the dodge—lunging with a sweeping kick meant to clip Izuku's trailing leg.
But Izuku countered mid-step.
BOOM.
A focused burst from his heel turned his pivot into a full side vault, launching him clean over the attack. He flipped once, landed, and kept moving—now circling Iida with a blur of motion that left faint trails of green lightning in the air.
It wasn't power.
It was mastery.
He was using 25% of One For All, and he made it look easy.
--
Top Ten Pro Hero Box
Edgeshot narrowed his eyes. "He's fully in command of the field."
Ryukyu gave a slow nod. "He's not overreaching. Not showboating. Just… outmaneuvering."
Crust tapped his fingers together. "It's clean. Cold. Like a tactician in motion."
Even Endeavor spoke this time.
Quiet. Grudgingly impressed.
"He's become faster. More precise. That's what pressure makes of some people."
--
On the ground, Iida wasn't slowing down. His engines hissed, overheating, but he didn't relent. He was pushing. He burst forward again—Recipro burst now activated, every burst longer than the last.
The tiles cracked under the force of his charge.
And finally—he clipped Midoriya's shoulder.
The force staggered Izuku slightly, a skid marking the stone as he caught himself mid-slide.
But then he grinned.
"I was wondering when you'd hit me."
He kicked off the ground—BOOM—and was in front of Iida again in a blink. A quick burst from his palm disrupted Iida's footing, and a sweeping leg caught the support angle of his stance.
Iida nearly stumbled.
But before he could recover, Izuku slipped behind him in a burst of speed and landed a clean tap to the back with both palms.
A soft blast. No injury. Just force.
Iida was sent sliding across the ground—and over the boundary.
Ring out.
The audience roared. Not because it was a flashy finish—but because it was clean. Controlled. Clinical.
--
Class 1-A Section
"Yo, that was slick!" Kaminari shouted, fists pumping in the air.
"He outpaced Iida," Kirishima said, eyes wide. "How is he that fast?!"
"Footwork," Momo murmured. "Awareness. Timing. He didn't just outrun him—he out-thought him."
Sero grinned. "I think Iida just fought a tornado in human form."
And Rumi?
Rumi leaned back in her seat, arms crossed, her smirk growing sharper.
"Damn right he did."
--
Class 1-B Section
Tetsutetsu blinked. "That was fast. Really fast."
Ibara clasped her hands. "He is as thoughtful as he is strong."
Monoma made a face like he bit into something sour. "Midoriya again?! Oh come on—at this point, it's just favoritism from the universe!"
Kendo rolled her eyes. "Or he's just better than you."
--
Pro Hero Box
Edgeshot's voice was low. "He's growing by the minute."
Best Jeanist nodded. "He applied restraint—there was power in every movement, but never waste."
Ryukyu smiled. "He's starting to fight like someone who knows his limits. That's more dangerous than raw power."
And Endeavor?
His arms remained crossed, but his gaze didn't leave the arena.
"…He's not flashy. Not like All Might. But that's what makes him so effective."
--
Iida stood at the edge of the ring, catching his breath, and turned.
Midoriya walked over, offering his hand.
Iida hesitated—then smiled and took it.
"You were amazing," Izuku said.
Iida pushed his glasses up, nodding. "You were faster than I anticipated. Truly. Thank you… for the lesson."
Izuku chuckled. "Anytime."
Midnight's Voice Echoed
"Victory: Izuku Midoriya! He moves on to the final match!"
The crowd erupted again. Midoriya bowed slightly, then walked off toward the tunnel. The light behind him framed his silhouette in sparks and steam—less a student, more a rising star.
Midnight's voice rang out across the stadium, slicing through the fading cheers like a blade.
"Next up! The second semifinal of the day—Rumi Usagiyama versus Katsuki Bakugo!"
The roar that followed was deafening. The energy in the stands surged like a second storm was about to be born.
Izuku was just stepping off the arena floor, sweat still drying on his brow, when he saw her.
Rumi stood just ahead, arms crossed, her stance relaxed but eyes electric. Her ears twitched slightly, picking up the buzz of her name in the crowd. She didn't look at them.
She looked at him.
They crossed paths in the tunnel—a heartbeat of calm between two hurricanes.
Izuku slowed, green eyes meeting crimson.
"You've got this," he said, voice low, steady. "Show him what it means to fight someone who doesn't break."
Rumi's grin was quiet. Not cocky. Not loud. Just... real.
"I'll show him what a real explosion looks like."
She brushed her knuckles along his arm as she passed.
Then—BOOM.
Another figure entered the tunnel.
Bakugo.
He didn't glance at Rumi.
Not at first.
He stopped in front of Izuku.
Face unreadable. Jaw tight. Hands twitching with slow, simmering sparks.
"You better pray for your girl," Bakugo said, voice like gravel dragged across metal. "She's gonna need every ounce of that freak strength just to survive me."
He didn't wait for a reply.
He walked past, boots crunching gravel left by repairs.
Izuku stood there for a moment, the heat of Bakugo's words lingering longer than the actual flames.
Something crawled up his spine. Not fear.
But unease.
He looked toward Rumi's retreating figure.
Then tightened his fist.
No. He believed in her.
Whatever Bakugo brought—she could take it.
--
Class 1-A Stands
"Damn, this is gonna be wild," Kaminari said, leaning forward in anticipation.
"Two powerhouses, both aggressive, both explosive," Kirishima grinned. "This is gonna be a brawl."
"She's faster, more agile," Momo said. "If she stays mobile, she can outmaneuver him."
"But Bakugo adapts quickly," Shoto noted, arms folded. "He's not just brute force—he watches. Calculates."
"He's still gonna get stomped," Mina chimed in, smirking. "No one survives the Bunny Hurricane."
Tokoyami remained quiet, but his eyes narrowed.
Something in the air felt heavy.
--
Pro Hero Box
Ryukyu leaned forward. "This is the one I've been waiting for."
Crust let out a low whistle. "She's a beast—but he's a bomb with legs. This is gonna be brutal."
Best Jeanist, hands folded, said nothing.
Edgeshot watched with razor focus.
And Endeavor?
He stared down at the girl stepping into the ring with eyes that didn't show flame—but something colder.
Judgment.
--
The Ring
Rumi entered like a fighter walking into a pit—not with hesitation, but with a grin that promised chaos.
She cracked her neck once, crouched low in a fighter's stance, and thumped one fist against her thigh.
Bakugo entered seconds later, dragging his boots through the dirt like he was daring the ground to defy him.
Midnight raised her hand.
Neither of them looked at her.
Their eyes were already locked.
"BEGIN!"
Bakugo moved first.
BOOM.
A burst from his right palm—he rocketed forward like a missile, low to the ground. Rumi matched his speed, ducking the opening swipe and countering with a spinning back kick that would've crushed anyone's ribs.
Bakugo twisted mid-air and blasted away from the blow just in time.
Rumi chased.
She blitzed forward, feet slamming the stone with pinpoint precision. One hop, one leap, and she was airborne—spinning heel coming down like a hammer.
Bakugo caught it on his forearm—but even blocking it sent him skidding backward.
She landed, ears twitching.
He was smirking.
Another BOOM—this time a shotgun blast at close range.
Rumi dropped low, the shockwave rushing overhead, and drove an uppercut into Bakugo's gut.
He grunted—then detonated a small burst at his back, launching himself into a mid-air spin.
Her follow-up missed by inches.
--
Class 1A Section
"She's keeping up!" Kaminari shouted. "No—she's pushing him!"
"She's faster in close quarters," Momo confirmed, eyes locked. "He's trying to create space, but she's not letting him breathe."
Kirishima whooped. "She's got him on the ropes!"
--
Back in the Ring
Bakugo grit his teeth and landed hard. His hands flared.
He launched an aerial cluster shot—multiple rapid-fire bursts aimed around her rather than at her, trying to herd her toward one side of the ring.
Rumi read it instantly.
She leapt, twisted mid-air to avoid the trap, and came down with a thunderous stomp that shattered the floor and sent debris flying.
Bakugo landed on a chunk midair—and smiled.
That's when the tempo shifted.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
Three bursts in rapid succession. Louder. Sharper. Not aimed to hit—but to sound off.
Rumi's step staggered.
Just a flicker.
But her head twitched.
She shook it off, scowled, and launched forward again.
Bakugo smirked.
He'd seen it.
Another BOOM, this one directly into the ground as he propelled himself sideways—echoing like a thunderclap in a cave.
Rumi's movement hitched. Slightly. She didn't show pain. But her reaction time was a breath slower.
Bakugo saw everything.
--
Commentary Booth
Aizawa narrowed his eyes. "He's shifting something."
Present Mic blinked. "He's making noise. More noise. You see that? It's not just about propulsion. He's weaponizing the sound."
Aizawa's eyes locked on Rumi. "And she's starting to feel it."
--
In the ring, Rumi's teeth were grit now. Her ears twitched at each blast. She dove in again, spinning, ducking low—and landed a heavy blow to Bakugo's hip that sent him stumbling.
But when he recovered?
Another triple burst.
Louder.
Rumi flinched—visibly this time. Her stance faltered. The rhythm was breaking. Her breathing was tighter.
--
Class 1-A Section
"She's slowing," Momo said.
"No way," Kirishima frowned. "She was crushing—what's happening?"
"She's still landing hits," Sero added. "But—why's she hesitating?"
—-
Rumi launched forward again—and Bakugo responded with a point-blank detonation that didn't even hit her—but rattled the air.
The sound hit like a punch. And her movement stuttered again. Rumi blinked once. Her vision swam. Ears ringing.
The world snapped sideways for half a second—but she dug in, forced her body to obey, and lashed out with a sweeping roundhouse that clipped Bakugo's shoulder.
He didn't block.
He didn't care.
He saw it.
The way she winced.
The way her eyes twitched at the sound.
He raised his hand again.
Not for firepower.
For volume.
The next blast shook the arena.
Rumi flinched hard, nearly missing her footing.
And Bakugo laughed—not in cruelty.
In certainty.
"I see it now," he growled, voice cutting through the smoke.
"You're not breaking 'cause you're weak."
He raised his hand again.
"You're breaking 'cause your body's betraying you."
BOOOOOOM.
The sound slammed through the air like a cannon going off in a tunnel.
Rumi's fists stayed up.
But her knees… dipped.
Just slightly.
The air split again with another explosion—louder, sharper than the last. The kind of blast that didn't aim to strike skin or muscle.
It aimed to shatter the senses.
Rumi staggered as the shockwave rolled through her skull. Her footing faltered for just a heartbeat, but that was enough.
Bakugo's eyes lit up like a predator who'd tasted blood.
He pounced.
The next series of detonations weren't random—they were calculated, detonated at angles that reverberated off the stadium walls. They rattled the air itself. They hunted her ears.
Rumi's breath hitched.
She tried to twist into a low dodge, but the tilt in her balance gave her away.
Bakugo adjusted.
And punished.
He landed a right hook to her ribs that sent her sliding.
Rumi growled and launched back with pure instinct, slamming into him with a heavy shoulder tackle that drove them both into the ground in a tumble of limbs and grit.
But when they split apart again—
Bakugo detonated another blast directly behind her.
—
Class 1A Section
And that's when Izuku's stomach dropped. His mouth opened, but nothing came out at first.
Then it hit. His eyes flew wide. And he shouted.
"God damn it—"
The force in his voice cracked the air like a whip.
Heads turned in shock.
"I'm such a fucking idiot—"
Even Jirou flinched. No one had heard Midoriya swear before.
He clutched the rail in front of him like it was the only thing keeping him upright.
"The alarm!" he barked. "Back in the cafeteria—when the intruder alert went off! She dropped. She covered her ears—her whole body locked up. Why didn't I remember that?!"
His voice cracked from guilt and fury.
"She tried to hide it, said it was nothing… but of course it wasn't. Of course explosions are worse!"
A stunned silence fell over Class 1-A as realization swept across their section like a stormfront.
"Her ears," Jirou whispered, her own twitching at the distant rumble of Bakugo's blasts. "She's got enhanced hearing. Like me. Probably even worse, especially with her instincts."
She looked stricken. "I should have seen this."
"She's been absorbing that sound this whole time…" Momo murmured.
Tsuyu blinked slowly. "She's fighting through a sonic hell."
Kaminari's jaw clenched. "And she hasn't quit."
"She never would," Kirishima said. "That's not her."
--
Commentary Booth
Aizawa had stopped speaking entirely.
He watched her, stone-faced—but his jaw was tight, the corner of his eye twitching.
Present Mic's voice, usually so animated, came out lower. Rougher.
"I've seen that look before," he murmured. "Overexposure. Your body turns against you. Balance slips. Pain you can't shake. And the worst part is…"
He exhaled slowly.
"You can't turn it off. Not when it's your senses betraying you."
Aizawa finally spoke—quiet, but hard.
"She's unraveling. But she's still trying to win. That's the terrifying part."
Over the com links that the staff shared to be able to communicate with each other Midnight's voice came to life
"Should I stop the match?"
Aizawa's face screwed up into a contemplative look before replying. "No, she would never forgive us for deciding the fight for her."
--
Pro Hero Box
Edgeshot leaned forward, his normally unreadable face cast in shadows.
"He's not increasing power. He's increasing pressure. This is psychological warfare—and it's effective."
Ryukyu's eyes narrowed, her arms folded tightly. "She's being cornered from the inside out. And yet… she's still standing."
Crust shook his head, brow furrowed deep. "That kind of grit? You don't teach that. That's in the bones."
Best Jeanist watched silently. His hands were clenched.
"She's being outplayed… but she's not outclassed."
And Endeavor?
He looked focused. He looked down in the ring at the girl who kept pushing through the pain and kept trying to win something that was clearly out of reach. It reminded him of someone.
"…She's cracked," he muttered. "But not broken. Not yet."
--
Class 1-A
"Do we stop it?!" Kaminari half-shouted.
"He's not using lethal force," Momo said, but her voice was tight. "He's targeting—but it's within rules. That's why it's so awful."
"She won't yield," Jirou whispered. "That's the worst part. She won't. She'll let herself get wrecked before she quits."
"She's like him," Tokoyami said. "Relentless. Unbending. Two blades on the same grindstone."
"She's gonna break," Ochako said quietly.
And Izuku? His jaw was clenched. Eyes burning. Hands shaking. But he didn't look helpless.
He looked like a man watching a star he loved fall into the ocean.
—
Back in the Ring
Rumi's legs wobbled as she rose again, blood trailing from her nose. Her head was throbbing. Her vision pulsed with the beat of her heart. Her ears—
She couldn't hear right.
Everything was distorted. Like the world had been submerged underwater, then rattled with a jackhammer.
But still, she stood.
Her fists trembled, her tail twitched rapidly, and her balance wasn't clean anymore—but her eyes?
Still blazing.
Bakugo approached slowly, a small sneer on his face—not smug. Not taunting.
Just knowing.
"You should've quit five minutes ago."
BOOM.
A blast beside her left foot.
She twitched violently, nearly collapsing.
"I see it now," he said. "You're not backing down 'cause you're brave."
He raised his hand again, sweat beading along his temple.
"You're not backing down 'cause you don't know how."
BOOOOOOM.
The air buckled. The ground trembled.
Rumi fell to one knee.
And the only thing louder than the sound—
Was the silence that followed it.
She was on one knee.
Head bowed. Hands shaking. Her breath ragged.
The ring was half-destroyed around her—shattered stone, craters from explosions, dust still hanging in the air. Her ears twitched with the ghost of each blast, as if they were still ringing even when silence fell.
Bakugo stood across from her, posture loose, arms slightly out at his sides, like he was waiting for the inevitable.
"You still breathing down there, rabbit?"
He didn't grin.
He didn't mock.
His tone was sharp. Cold.
"You're fast. You hit like hell. But all that flash means nothing if one weakness shuts your whole body down."
He took a few steps closer, slow and measured, explosions crackling softly around his palms.
"You're just a noise-sensitive meathead who got by on speed and instinct. Cute."
Another step.
"You thought you were hot shit, didn't you?"
He tilted his head.
"Turns out you're just loud-noise roadkill."
--
Class 1-A Section
Izuku gripped the rail like he wanted to rip it from the floor. The metal was bending and groaning beneath his grip. But it wasn't just his hands that trembled now. It was the air around him.
Thin tendrils of green lightning arced down his arms. His red shoes cracked faintly against the ground beneath him. The faint hum of power—raw, hungry—began to pulse from his frame like a second heartbeat.
"Midoriya…" Momo said softly, eyes wide.
He didn't hear her.
His jaw was clenched, muscles tight, every fiber of his being screaming for him to move. His aura flared again—just a flicker, but enough that Kaminari took a step back, feeling the static crackle through the air.
Rumi still hadn't moved.
"He's trying to bury her now," Kaminari said, voice quiet.
"She's not reacting to the blasts anymore," Jirou muttered. "She's probably numb."
"She's going to break," Momo whispered. "Or she's going to shatter everything else trying not to."
"She's not done," Kirishima said. "Not yet."
But even he sounded like he wasn't sure.
--
Pro Hero Box
"She's in critical territory," Ryukyu said, her fists clenched on the railing.
Edgeshot's eyes narrowed. "And Midoriya… look at him."
Best Jeanist followed their gaze. "He's on the edge."
Crust let out a low breath. "If she goes down hard, he's the one we're gonna have to hold back next."
And Endeavor?
Still silent.
But his eyes flicked from Rumi—to Izuku.
--
The Ring
Bakugo stopped walking.
He lifted one hand and fired off a low, sharp burst at the stone beside her.
BOOM.
The noise shattered the quiet like a brick through a window.
Rumi didn't flinch.
Didn't twitch.
She moved.
Like lightning from a dead sky.
Her body launched forward—no warning, no tell, just raw motion. A single, furious blur of white and muscle and blood and rage.
Bakugo's eyes widened.
Her foot hit the stone—crack—and she vanished again.
She didn't dodge.
She tore toward him.
He blasted backward reflexively—BOOM—but she curved with the recoil, closing distance mid-air.
"YOU WANNA HEAR LOUD?!"
She screamed as she spun into a corkscrew kick, her voice breaking against the walls of the stadium.
"LISTEN TO THIS!"
Her knee collided with his forearm just as he raised it—
CRACK!
There was for sure something fractured in that arm now.
Bakugo grunted, blasted himself away—BOOM—but she followed.
Her ears were bleeding now. Her nose too. Her eyes were bloodshot, one almost swollen shut.
But she was still moving. Still raging.
She came in low this time—faking a sweep, then bouncing upward into a spinning axe kick.
Bakugo crossed his arms—caught it, but stumbled.
He felt that.
--
Commentary Booth
"She's ripping herself apart just to stay in this," Present Mic said, almost horrified.
Aizawa's eyes never left the ring. "She's not fighting like she wants to win. She's fighting like she wants to prove she can still stand."
"And Midoriya's power's rising," Mic added. "He's barely holding back. You feel that hum? That's not nerves. That's the storm."
--
Class 1-A
"She's pushing through it!" Kaminari shouted. "She's back!"
"No," Momo said, her voice almost trembling. "She's not back. She's breaking. She's just—burning brighter before the end."
"She's detonating," Jirou whispered.
And Izuku?
His fingers clawed into the railing.
The arcs of energy dancing down his arms were growing brighter.
"Rumi…" he whispered.
--
The Ring
Rumi landed another punch to Bakugo's shoulder. He hissed—more out of surprise than pain.
She roared and came in again, her fists blurring with a flurry of heavy blows, each one slamming like gunfire against his defenses.
He was backing up.
One step.
Two.
Then—
"SHUT UP ALREADY!"
Bakugo detonated point-blank.
Rumi was blown backward, spinning through the air, skidding across the broken tiles, her body flipping once—twice—
She hit the edge of the ring. Hard. And stayed there. Slumped.
The Crowd Fell Silent Again
No one moved.
No one breathed.
Not even Bakugo. Not yet. He just watched her. Waiting.
Her fingers twitched.
She grabbed the stone beneath her. And heaved. One hand. Then the other. She stood.
Her body looked like a battlefield.
But she smiled.
A crooked, wild, unbreakable smile.
And raised both fists.
"…Still here, asshole."
The Stadium Erupted
Cheers. Screams. Disbelief.
Class 1-A surged to their feet, fists in the air, hearts in their throats.
Mina was in tears.
Even Endeavor's lips parted—slightly.
Izuku?
His body flared again.
One step forward.
Sato turned in his seat.
"Midoriya."
Izuku didn't move further—but the power surging from him buzzed like a living thing. He was ready to jump the down there if he had to.
And Bakugo?
His teeth grit.
His eyes wide with fury.
He raised both hands again, palms glowing.
"Fine."
"Let's end it."
Rumi stood.
Barely.
Her fists were up. Her legs trembling. Her face cut and bruised and bloody. Her ears—still twitching—hung limp against her skull, flickering at every echo.
But her eyes?
Still burning.
And Bakugo?
He was done playing.
"You just don't know when to quit."
He launched forward—BOOM—a straight burst that shattered more of the ring beneath his feet.
Rumi tried to meet him.
She leapt, every muscle screaming, and drove a flying knee toward his chest.
He twisted midair, caught her knee with one hand—then detonated a blast into her ribs point blank.
She choked on air, crumpling mid-flight.
She crashed to the ground, coughing, dragging herself up with raw instinct.
Bakugo didn't stop.
BOOM.
Another blast sent her skidding.
She forced herself to roll, bounced back to one foot, swung—missed.
Bakugo slammed an explosion into her back as she twisted—
She screamed as the air left her lungs, her body bouncing across the floor.
--
Class 1-A Section
"Someone stop it!" Kaminari shouted.
"Rumi!" Mina cried out, tears streaming down her face.
Izuku was no longer just trembling.
He was glowing.
The lightning around him whipped violently now, surging up his legs, his shoulders, crackling along his jaw.
And then—he moved.
Only a step.
But Shoji caught him.
Sato grabbed his other side.
"Don't," Shoji said, voice calm—but firm. "You can't."
"She'd never forgive you," Sato added, sweat beading at his brow.
Izuku's whole body strained. Muscles twitching, eyes wild, fists burning with restrained power.
"She's—getting slaughtered!" he barked.
"She knows," Shoji said. "And she chose this."
Tokoyami stepped in, Dark Shadow coiling around Izuku for extra strength.
"We'll hold you here if we have to."
"You're not alone, man," Kirishima added, hand on Izuku's shoulder. "We all feel it too."
But it didn't help the knot in Izuku's chest as he watched her struggle to rise again.
--
Pro Hero Box
Edgeshot's brows were drawn. "This is over."
"She's still trying to stand," Crust whispered. "She's got nothing left, but her body's still moving."
Ryukyu said nothing—but her hands were balled into fists.
Best Jeanist exhaled hard through his nose. "This… This is the cost of pride."
And Endeavor?
His gaze didn't waver.
"She stood longer than most pros ever would."
--
The Ring
Rumi was crawling now. She refused to stay down. She braced one foot. Then the other. She tried to spring. Her leg buckled. She fell forward.
And Bakugo landed behind her.
Breathing heavy.
He looked down at her like she was a stubborn ghost.
"You're done."
She wheezed out a laugh, face half-smeared in blood and dirt.
"…Not yet…"
Bakugo's mouth twisted—something between anger and disbelief.
"You're crazy."
She looked up, vision half-fogged, barely able to see.
"…Yeah," she whispered. "I'm still Rumi, though…"
He raised one hand.
She didn't move.
She couldn't.
But she still grinned.
--
Class 1-A Section
Izuku growled, fighting against Shoji and Sato's grip. Tokoyami forced Dark Shadow to grow despite the light with a grunt of effort. The stone under his boots cracked again. Lightning spiked across the rail.
Then—
"Usagiyama is unable to continue!"
Midnight's voice hit like a gavel slamming shut.
"Victory—Katsuki Bakugo!"
Shoji and Sato let go dark shadow retracted with a sigh of relief.
And Izuku moved.
He was a blur—green lightning slicing the air as he leapt from the stands and landed beside her in an instant.
He dropped to his knees.
"Rumi!"
She was barely conscious—her chest rising and falling in short, shallow breaths, but her body limp.
"Hey. Hey, stay with me. You did amazing, okay? You were incredible."
She smiled faintly. "Mmm… hit like a truck…"
"You are a truck," he whispered, brushing hair from her face.
Bakugo walked past them.
Didn't say a word.
Just glared.
And Izuku glared right back.
A silence passed between them—white-hot, sharp, unfinished.
Then Izuku turned his full attention back to Rumi.
He lifted her carefully, cradling her close.
"You're okay. I got you."
He stood, lightning flickering low around his feet.
"Let's get you to Recovery Girl."
As he carried her off the field, the stadium watched in silence.
Even the crowd couldn't find words.
Only respect.
Only awe.
Rumi Usagiyama—the girl who refused to fall until she absolutely had to—was finally carried away.
But not broken.
Never broken.
--
Top Pro Hero Box
The silence stretched for several seconds after the match ended.
Not because the arena was quiet.
But because no one had anything left to say.
Bakugo had walked off.
Rumi had been carried away.
And in their wake—they left behind scorched earth and thunder still ringing in the ears of those who'd witnessed it.
Edgeshot leaned forward slowly, hands steepled. "…That girl's a monster."
"In the best way," Ryukyu added softly, eyes wet but proud.
"She had no balance. No footing," Best Jeanist murmured. "She was fighting off instinct and pure adrenaline."
"She didn't surrender," Crust said. "Even when her body did."
Endeavor said nothing at first.
Then he exhaled—a deep breath that rattled faintly from somewhere deeper than the lungs.
"She refused to fall clean," he muttered. "There's a difference between losing and being beaten. And she never gave him the satisfaction of the latter."
He didn't say it like a compliment.
He said it like a challenge.
To himself.
To anyone watching.
She had earned their respect.
All of it.
--
Class 1-A Section
The silence hit them first.
They didn't move. Couldn't. Even after Izuku had bolted from the stands, the rest of the class sat like statues.
No banter.
No shouts.
Just the ache of something too real.
"She didn't deserve that," Kirishima said first. Voice low. Raw.
"She didn't stop," Sero muttered, almost dazed. "She… couldn't stop."
"I've never seen someone take that much damage and keep fighting," Momo whispered. "Not at our level. Not like that."
"She got pushed past her limit," Jirou added. "Way past. And she didn't quit. Not once."
"She went down because her body gave out," Tsuyu said. "Not her will."
"Heroes go down like that," Shoji rumbled. "Legends do."
"Should've been her in the final," Kaminari muttered, rubbing at his eyes.
And then—
Monoma.
"Wow," he said with a dry little smirk. "All this drama for the loser. Honestly, she got creamed."
The class froze.
Kaminari stood, face red. "You little—"
"She got outplayed," Monoma continued. "No strategy. Just muscle and ego. Honestly, I'm amazed she lasted as long as she—"
CRACK.
Kendo's fist collided with the back of his head. Monoma dropped like a sack of flour, facedown on the stands.
Kendo didn't even sigh.
She just crossed her arms and addressed the group.
"Sorry. He's not waking up for a while."
"Let him sleep it off," Kirishima grunted.
"He can mourn the splinters in the floorboards," Jirou added coldly.
Still, it broke the tension—just a little.
Just enough to breathe again.
--
Medical Wing
The lights were low.
The machines beeped quietly. The faint rhythm of medical tech was the only sound.
Rumi Usagiyama lay still.
Bandaged. Bruised. Blood still drying in her ears and on the corner of her mouth. One of her ears twitched involuntarily every few seconds—reflex, not awareness.
Izuku hadn't left her side since he brought her in.
He sat beside her bed, elbows on knees, fists clenched tightly. His green lightning had faded, but the heat hadn't. Not from his body. From his eyes.
And she hadn't looked at him.
Not once.
"Say something," he said softly.
No answer.
"You don't have to pretend with me."
Still—nothing.
He leaned closer.
"Please, Rumi."
"I can't," she rasped.
Her voice cracked on the word. It sounded broken.
"I can't."
And her face crumpled.
She turned away, shoulders trembling.
"I fought so damn hard," she whispered. "And it didn't matter. He just kept coming. Louder. Crueler. Every second…"
Her words died in her throat. She covered her face with one arm, teeth clenched.
"I've never felt that helpless in a fight. Never. And I hated it."
Izuku was already on his feet, kneeling beside her bed.
He took her hand.
"You weren't helpless," he said, fierce and unshaking. "You were unreal. You stood through more pain than anyone should've had to."
"I didn't win."
"No. But you didn't fall, either."
She sobbed once, loud and sharp.
"I felt weak, Izuku. I felt… small. Like I was drowning in a fight I should've walked through."
He cupped her cheek with one hand.
"You didn't drown," he said. "You stormed into a hurricane with your fists up and teeth bared, and you made it bleed before it took you down."
"I didn't want to fall in front of you," she said through her tears.
"You didn't," he whispered. "You rose."
Their foreheads touched.
"I'm so proud of you," he said.
"I don't feel proud."
"That's okay. I'll carry it for you."
The door creaked open. Toshinori stepped inside and his presence began to fill the room. It was gentle.
Steady.
He looked at the two of them for a long moment.
Then closed the door behind him.
"I watched the whole thing," he said.
Neither of them spoke.
"You fought with everything you had, Rumi," Toshinori continued, voice softer than usual. "And even when your body betrayed you, your spirit never did."
Rumi let out a shaky breath.
Toshinori stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Don't ever think you came up short," he said. "Not after what we saw out there."
Izuku looked up at him.
Still burning.
But quieter now.
"I'm going to find out what's wrong with Bakugo," he said. "Why he's like this. Why he enjoyed doing that to her."
Toshinori didn't flinch.
He just nodded.
"I believe you will."
Izuku looked down at Rumi again.
"I'm going to make this right," he whispered.
Then added, louder:
"For everyone."
Rumi's eyes fluttered, her voice low and tired.
"You better win."
Izuku smiled.
"I will."
The stadium speakers flared to life. "Final match is about to begin! Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugo—please report to the ring!"
Izuku rose.
He took one last look at her.
And Rumi—still pale, still broken—grinned with cracked lips.
"Go raise some hell for me."
"I plan to," he said.
Then he walked out.
The door closed behind him.
And the storm followed.
A Moment later
"Alright, young lady," Recovery Girl said, pulling back with a click of her tongue. "That's the last of it. Inner ear's stable. Reflexes are back. No more vertigo. You're patched up."
Rumi slowly flexed her fingers, rotated her neck, and winced slightly. "Still sore."
"You were nearly liquefied. Be grateful you're not jelly in a bandana."
"Jelly doesn't hit like I do," Rumi muttered, then pulled on a pair of heavy-duty black earmuffs with reinforced padding around her ears. "Just in case. I still wanna hear the crowd when he wins."
She gave Recovery Girl a nod and made her way out—head high, steps strong, face set like stone.
--
Class 1-A Section
The class turned as one when they saw her.
"Rumi!" Mina shot up first, launching forward.
"You okay?" Jirou asked immediately.
"You sure you should be moving?" Tsuyu added.
Kirishima grinned. "You look like hell—but also like a champ."
Rumi held up her hand, halting the wave of concern before it could crash over her.
"I'm good."
Just two words. Calm. Certain.
"Thanks, all of you," she added. "But I'm here now. So let's watch him win."
She took her seat in the front row. Right in the center. Right where she could see everything.
Eyes sharp.
Smile razor-thin.
Hands folded.
The pain was still there.
But it had purpose now.
--
Arena Floor
The ring was rebuilt.
The air was sharp. Electric. The kind of charged silence that only happens when everyone knows what's about to happen.
Izuku Midoriya walked out first.
Shoulders squared. Eyes locked forward.
His body hummed—subtle arcs of green lightning trailing up and down his frame.
Not explosive.
Just focused.
And then came Bakugo.
No theatrics.
Just pressure.
He walked like a loaded weapon—tense, coiled, the hiss of his palms the only warning before the storm.
They met at the center of the arena.
Face to face.
Breath to breath.
No handshake.
No nod.
Just fire behind one gaze.
And lightning behind the other.
--
Commentary Booth
Present Mic leaned forward, voice hushed with excitement.
"We've made it, folks. This is it—the final showdown. Midoriya versus Bakugo. The two powerhouses of Class 1-A."
Aizawa's voice came steady and quiet. "This won't be about Quirks. This'll be about resolve."
"They've fought before," Mic added. "But not like this. Not after everything that's happened."
"They're not boys anymore," Aizawa said. "They're becoming heroes."
--
Pro Hero Box
Edgeshot leaned in. "Midoriya's steadier. But Bakugo—he's meaner."
Ryukyu nodded slowly. "This isn't a duel. It's a reckoning."
Endeavor watched, flames flickering at his shoulders.
"…We'll see which one breaks first."
--
Midnight Raised Her Hand
The crowd went still.
"Begin!"
Bakugo exploded forward like a missile—arm reared back, palms ignited.
Izuku was already moving.
BOOM!
Their fists collided mid-air—shockwave ripping through the stone. Bakugo twisted in midair, dropping low with a spinning kick laced in a blast.
Izuku slid under it, planted his palm on the ground, and used the momentum to launch upward with a rising left hook.
CRACK!
It connected.
Bakugo ate it—his head snapping back slightly, but he twisted mid-motion and fired off an aerial burst point-blank at Izuku's ribs.
BOOM!
Izuku grunted, flew backward—skidded, caught himself, and dashed in again.
This time at 25%.
The tiles under his boots shattered.
He appeared in front of Bakugo and swung wide.
Bakugo blocked—barely—and fired a backhand explosion at Izuku's temple.
Izuku ducked under, slammed a gut punch into Bakugo's abdomen, then followed up with a rising elbow under his chin.
Bakugo staggered.
Spit flew from his mouth.
Then he grinned.
"Come on, Deku! That all you got?!"
--
Class 1-A Reactions
"Holy crap," Kaminari breathed. "They're gonna kill each other."
"They're faster," Jirou whispered. "Both of them."
"Bakugo's not being pushed back like last time," Momo said, eyes wide. "He's keeping up."
"He's matching Midori-bro," Kirishima muttered. "And fighting like he likes it."
Rumi leaned forward, eyes locked on the field.
"He's baiting Izuku," she said. "Trying to draw him into a slugfest."
"Is it working?" Mina asked.
Rumi's smile was thin.
"Oh yeah."
--
Down in the Ring
Izuku came in low—shoulder-first—slamming Bakugo with a rushing tackle.
Bakugo flipped him with a blast from the ground and hurled a combo of twin explosions mid-spin.
Izuku dodged the first—caught the second with his forearm.
The sleeve tore open. The skin beneath was already bruised. He didn't care.
He roared forward again—slamming fists into Bakugo's arms, chest, shoulder.
Bakugo matched him hit for hit.
Blow for blow.
Left. Right. Hook. Elbow. Palm strike. Explosion. Knee. Jab. Blast.
It was vicious.
It was personal.
--
Pro Hero Box
Crust stood halfway out of his seat. "They're tearing each other apart!"
Edgeshot's voice was taut. "Bakugo's leveled up. His reaction time's clean. He's not just flaring—it's precise."
Ryukyu frowned. "And Midoriya hasn't even tried to end it yet. He's… pulling something out."
Even Endeavor squinted.
"…He's trying to drag something from Bakugo."
--
Back in the Ring
Bakugo tackled Izuku into the ground—BOOM—the blast sending cracks across the arena floor.
Izuku grit his teeth, kicked him off with both legs, and fired a shockwave upward.
Bakugo flew—caught himself midair with a cluster burst.
Izuku met him midair with a rising smash.
CRACK.
Their forearms collided—again.
The crowd screamed.
And neither moved.
Their bodies locked mid-clash—both panting, blood running down their arms.
Then Izuku growled through grit teeth:
"Why are you like this?!"
Bakugo blinked—his sneer faltering just slightly.
"What the hell happened to you, Kacchan?"
Bakugo snarled.
"Shut up—fight me!"
Izuku's eyes burned.
"I AM!"
And they collided again.
BOOM.
Fist. Counter. Blast. Blood.
Izuku and Bakugo fought like the world owed them answers. Like each punch might make the pain make sense.
"Tell me damnit!! Why do you hate me so damn much!" Izuku shouted as they went in for another exchange.
And then—
"You really don't remember, do you?!" Bakugo barked between strikes.
Izuku blocked a punch—barely.
"What are you talking about?!"
Bakugo grabbed him by the collar, lifted him up, and slammed him into the stone with a blast-assisted throw.
"The week after your diagnosis!"
Izuku blinked. Confused. Winded.
Bakugo loomed over him, fists trembling, sparks dancing in his palms.
"When they jumped you. When they almost killed you!"
"I—what?!"
"I was the one who found you! You were bloody, beaten half to death, and you still didn't run! You tried to fight three upperclassmen without a Quirk!"
Izuku rolled aside, stood, blood dripping from his lip.
"I don't… I don't remember that."
"Exactly!" Bakugo shouted. "You forgot the whole thing. Forgot the alley. The pain. Me!"
He charged—BOOM—and Izuku caught the strike, but it still knocked him back.
"You didn't even know why I pushed you away, did you?"
"I thought it was because I was Quirkless…"
Bakugo paused. And for the first time—his eyes hurt.
"I did push you away."
Another punch—slower this time. Not to injure.
To make it land.
"I bullied you. Mocked you. Told you to stay down. But it wasn't because you didn't have a Quirk."
He shoved Izuku back, staggering him.
"It was because you didn't know how much danger you were in. And I thought if I kept you down, kept you out, you'd be safe."
"I became your pain on purpose. So you'd stay away."
"I thought it was for your own good."
Another blast—Izuku flew.
"And I hated myself for it."
Izuku's back slammed into the wall of the ring, breath caught in his chest.
Bakugo kept coming.
"Then one day—you're smiling again. You found her. You found confidence. And then—you got a Quirk."
Izuku staggered upright.
"You got stronger. You passed me. You became everything I was trying to be."
He looked up at Izuku, sweat and fury pouring off his frame.
"And I was just… the asshole who pushed you down."
Izuku looked back.
Breathing hard.
And then—
"I remember it," he whispered.
Bakugo froze.
"I remember a hallway. My mom crying. My chest tight. And… your voice. Yelling. Saving me."
Bakugo's breath hitched.
"I never hated you," Izuku said, voice trembling. "I thought you were gone. I thought I lost you."
They stood there—just for a beat.
Neither flinched.
Neither moved.
Then they both punched.
CRACK.
--
Class 1A
"…Wait," Kaminari said slowly, eyes wide. "Did… did Bakugo just say Midoriya didn't have a Quirk?"
"He said Quirkless," Momo murmured. "That can't be right. Midoriya has a Quirk. He's had it since day one."
The class buzzed in confusion—murmuring, blinking.
Then Rumi spoke up—low and steady.
"He told me once."
All eyes turned to her.
"It was a misdiagnosis. He got checked again after he started showing signs. The first doctor was a quack. Got it wrong."
Jirou blinked. "You're serious?"
Rumi didn't look away from the ring.
"I don't lie."
--
Pro Hero Box
"So it's more guilt than anger. Maybe self hatred," Ryukyu murmured.
"He's not just trying to win," Edgeshot said. "He's trying to make peace. With himself."
And Endeavor, finally, broke his silence.
"They're not enemies. They're just friends that lost their way"
He leaned forward.
"They're trying to forgive each other."
--
In the Ring
Izuku wiped blood from his nose.
"You weren't my pain, Kacchan," he said softly. "You were my protector. I just didn't know."
Bakugo's hands fell to his sides.
"I didn't know how to protect you without pushing you away."
"And I didn't know how to chase you without hurting."
Another silence.
And then—
They both moved.
The next punch was raw.
Exhausted.
Final.
They were down to fumes.
Each breath burned.
The battlefield was a cratered ruin. The floor cracked and broken. Their limbs shook. Sweat and blood mixed freely between them.
But they moved anyway.
They had to.
Izuku and Bakugo weren't fighting for a title anymore.
They were fighting for understanding.
For closure.
For each other.
Izuku lashed out with Blackwhip—sharp, fast, trying to bind Bakugo down and end it without another collision.
Bakugo snarled, slipping the tendrils with short-range blasts and sheer grit.
"You think I'm gonna let you tie me up after all this?!"
"I'm not tying you up," Izuku snapped. "I'm trying to save you from yourself!"
Bakugo roared and leapt skyward, spinning—building momentum with every twist, explosion, and scream.
Izuku's eyes tracked him—steady, heart hammering. He already faced a big attack before.
He wouldn't overpower it. Not this time
He'd match it.
30%.
Focused. Clean.
Intentional.
"Let's end this," he muttered.
Bakugo descended.
"HOWITZER—!!"
Izuku met him—
"DETROIT SMAAAASH!!"
Impact.
The sky ripped open. For a second time that day this time on a lesser scale.
A thunderclap echoed across the stadium like a god's heartbeat. The shockwave flattened debris, cracked remaining tiles, and left a scar in the center of the battlefield.
And when the dust cleared—
One figure was still standing.
Izuku Midoriya.
Shoulders hunched. Knees buckled. Chest heaving.
But standing.
A few feet away—
Bakugo lay on his back, chest rising and falling, eyes fluttering open—then shut again.
Still conscious.
But unmoving.
Still.
--
Commentary Booth
Present Mic whispered, "It's over…"
Aizawa's voice was soft.
"It's always been about this."
--
Class 1-A Reactions
Kaminari was shaking the railing. "HE DID IT!"
Jirou exhaled like she'd been underwater for a minute straight.
Momo smiled through glassy eyes. "Finally…"
Rumi stood tall—arms crossed.
And her grin?
Wild and complete.
--
Midnight's voice came to life.
"Bakugo is down and unable to continue…"A pause. A moment.
"Victory goes to Izuku Midoriya!!"
The crowd exploded.
Cheers, screams, raw applause that shook the stands and sent waves across the arena.
But in the ring—
Izuku didn't move. Not right away. He looked at Bakugo. Not with triumph.
But with understanding.
And when the sound began to fade—just a little—he walked forward.
One slow step at a time.
And then—finally—knelt beside Bakugo.
"Hey," Izuku said quietly. "You still breathing?"
"Unfortunately," Bakugo muttered hoarsely.
A long pause passed.
Izuku extended his hand.
Not fast.
Not desperate.
Just—there.
Bakugo looked at it.
Then, slowly, sat up under his own power.
He didn't take the hand.
But he nodded.
"I needed that," he rasped.
Izuku smiled faintly. "Yeah. Me too."
Bakugo looked down at his scarred knuckles.
Then up at Izuku again.
"You're strong."
"You always have been," Izuku replied.
Bakugo gave a dry, bitter chuckle.
"…I really was an asshole, huh?"
Izuku gave a small shrug. "You were scared."
Another pause.
"And I was hurt."
They both sat in the dirt now, side by side.
Nothing fancy.
No big speeches.
Just a quiet sort of peace.
"Guess we're even now," Bakugo muttered.
"We're not even," Izuku said.
He looked toward the crowd. His class. His friends. Rumi.
"We're just… finally on the same side."
Bakugo smirked.
"Don't get used to it, nerd."
The crowd was still going.
But it was different now.
Less chaos. More reverence.
Because they hadn't just watched two kids fight. They'd watched two boys become something more.
--
Medical Wing
The white light of the recovery room felt brighter than it should have.
Or maybe that was just the adrenaline fading.
Izuku sat on the edge of the bed, stripped of his upper uniform, arms wrapped in bandages and salves, his ribs sore, his right shoulder freshly patched.
Across the room, Bakugo sat with his usual slouched glare—but it was quieter now. Less fire. More steam.
No one said anything for a long moment.
Then Bakugo grunted.
"So."
Izuku glanced over.
"That Quirk."
Izuku blinked. "Huh?"
Bakugo's eyes narrowed. "You didn't have one before. I know you didn't. So where the hell did it come from?"
Izuku didn't even flinch.
He offered the same answer Rumi had given the class.
"Misdiagnosis," he said plainly. "The doctor who checked me when I was a kid got it wrong. I'm just one of those rare few with the extra toe joint. Turns out, the signs were just delayed. It showed up later."
Bakugo stared at him.
Long. Quiet.
Then finally muttered, "Tch. Damn quack."
He leaned back against the wall, arms crossed tightly.
"Guy caused more damage than any villain we've fought so far."
Izuku actually smiled a little. "Yeah. He did."
Before Bakugo could say anything else—
The door burst open.
And in walked Rumi Usagiyama—freshly healed, scarless now but wearing a bandage on one ear, and a smirk that could cut glass.
Behind her?
All of Class 1-A.
"Midoriya!!" Kaminari cheered. "You survived!!"
"Still standing!" Mina whooped.
"Barely," Jirou added with a smirk.
"Dude," Kirishima grinned, "that was one of the most metal things I've ever seen."
"I was afraid you were gonna punch the sky into a new dimension," Sero added.
"You did well," Shoji rumbled, nodding with respect.
"You were magnificent," Aoyama added with his trademark sparkle.
Iida, straight-backed as ever, gave a deep bow. "Midoriya, that was a demonstration of heart, honor, and resolve. We are all proud of you."
Izuku flushed. "Thanks, guys…"
And then—
Rumi walked up.
Didn't say a word.
Just reached out—
—and yanked him down into a kiss.
Not soft.
Not subtle.
It was the kind of kiss that made Jirou's earjacks short out, made Kaminari choke on air, and caused Momo to turn red from the neck up.
When she finally pulled back, she smirked at the stunned silence.
"Congrats, Zuku."
"…thanks," Izuku wheezed.
"Oh my god," Mina whispered. "That was SO HOT."
"I'm not sure I should've seen that," Ojiro muttered, turning around.
"I think I need recovery now," Kaminari wheezed.
Tsuyu blinked. "Ribbit. Bold."
Sato was frozen in place. "That happened."
Tokoyami nodded. "It was… poetic."
Iida's glasses had fogged entirely.
And Shoto?
He tilted his head.
"I don't understand. Was that part of a victory ritual?"
Momo covered her face. "Not… exactly."
Rumi Turned to Bakugo
The tension in the room changed as she locked eyes with him.
Bakugo straightened, but didn't bristle.
"I went too far," he said before she could speak. "I knew it. But I was angry. At him. At myself. I…"
He stopped. Bit down on the rest.
"I'm sorry."
Rumi didn't blink.
Then nodded once.
"Thanks," she said. "For trying to look out for him when I couldn't."
Bakugo blinked.
She leaned in slightly, just enough that he couldn't ignore her next words.
"But next time we fight?"
She smirked.
"I'm beating your ass into next week."
A pause.
"Soon as I figure out how to shut out all that damn noise."
Kaminari: "OH SHE'S CALLING HER SHOT!"
Bakugo scoffed. "You can try."
"Well actually…" Izuku said, tapping his fingers together.
Everyone turned.
"I've been thinking about that. And I think I have an idea."
"An idea?" Rumi echoed.
"I just need to talk to Hatsume."
That's when—
"DID SOMEBODY SAY MY NAME?!?"
The wall didn't explode, but it felt like it had.
Mei Hatsume burst into the room like a sugar-fueled hurricane, covered in oil, welding goggles half-fogged, with three prototype drones orbiting her shoulders.
She skidded to a stop, eyes gleaming.
"You need me? What do you need? Armor? Boots? Jetpacks? Micro-railguns? A mobile rabbit launcher?!"
The class jumped.
Mina shrieked.
Sero dove behind Iida.
Rumi blinked. "...Who the hell is this?"
"Hatsume Mei," Izuku said quickly. "Support Course. She's brilliant. And maybe a little… enthusiastic."
"I HEARD THAT!"
Izuku turned to her, raising his hands like a surrendering hostage.
"I need a custom build."
"OHHHHH I LOVE CUSTOMS," she sang, already scanning Rumi head to toe.
"I need discreet combat-grade earbuds," Izuku continued. "Something small. Almost invisible. They need to filter out extreme noise without weakening natural hearing. Everyday use and battle-ready."
Mei blinked.
Then grinned so wide her goggles almost fell off.
"Challenge accepted."
She turned to Rumi.
"Gimme an hour with your ears. I'll give you the world."
"…What?" Rumi said flatly.
"Let her work," Izuku muttered. "Trust me."
"Wow," Jirou whispered. "An anti-Bakugo device."
"She's weaponizing romance!" Sero added.
"She's optimizing love through science," Momo said thoughtfully.
Kaminari nodded. "It's beautiful."
Shoto raised his hand.
"…Are her inventions legal?"
"Honestly? Probably not," Jirou muttered.
Rumi leaned into Izuku, one hand on his bandaged chest.
"You always planning this stuff?"
"I try to stay ahead," he said with a sheepish smile.
She kissed his cheek. "Damn show-off."
Behind them, Hatsume was already drafting schematics midair.
And the class?
Still in awe.
Still laughing.
Still—together.
End Chapter
Well there you have it. And before you say anything about Bakugos reasoning. Can we all admit that canon Bakugo is emotionally dumb and stunted. So if you just tweek canon a little this is a possible outcome. None the else I was really proud of the Rumi vs Bakugo fight. And the moment after I loved writing it. It's good for Rumi to know that if she needs to break Izuku will always be there to catch the pieces. Hope you all enjoyed it. As always review and please let me know if you would really want to see the I-Isand arc.