Chapter 30: The Start of the Second Round
Moments before the round began, as the teens were going to their positions.
Midoriya gulped in nervousness as he stared at the cold teen walking in front of him.
The audience screamed and cheered, almost drowning out even his own thoughts.
He calmed his nerves as he closed his eyes and began to breathe steadily.
When he opened them, bright green eyes appeared.
Gone was the uncertainty and fear that had plagued them before.
Instead, an unwavering determination flashed inside them.
"You can do this," he quietly muttered to himself.
——————————
[Midoriya's POV]
The crowd was roaring like a storm overhead. My heart thumped in time with their cheers, steady but heavy. This was it — my match against Todoroki.
I knew he was strong. He was the favorite to win. But I wasn't going to just roll over. Even if I couldn't go all out without hurting myself, I had to show what I was capable of. I had to prove I belonged here.
To prove to All Might that choosing me wasn't a mistake.
To prove to Harue-san that I too was competition and that I deserve to be here with them all.
And to show Kacchan that he can't overlook me anymore.
"Begin!" Midnight's voice shattered the tension like a bolt of lightning.
Todoroki made the first move.
Ice surged toward me, fast and precise. I dove to the side, barely dodging the jagged spikes that tore through the ground where I had just been. He wasn't wasting time.
I leapt behind the slab of ice left behind, breathing hard. I needed an opening. Just one.
I popped out from cover and raised my right hand.
"One For All… SMASH."
I snapped my finger in Todoroki's direction.
CRACK. The bone shattered, and the shockwave roared through the arena, heading straight at him.
But Todoroki countered effortlessly — a thick ice wall shot up and took the blast head-on. The wall cracked but held. I grit my teeth, hand trembling. First finger down. That attack should've forced anyone to move. But he hadn't budged.
I moved again, circling, trying to stay unpredictable. I ducked under another ice spike and launched myself upward. Mid-air, I aimed my other hand down.
"Second shot!"
CRACK. Another finger. The shockwave tore a path toward him, this time aiming to hit his side.
But again, he redirected it. A smaller pillar of ice tilted the blast upward, away from him. It hit the far wall of the stadium with a dull boom.
I landed hard, my knees aching from the impact. My breathing was shallow now. Two fingers gone.
Todoroki finally moved forward, stepping lightly on the frozen ground. I could see my window closing — fast.
He raised his right hand, and ice spread like wildfire across the arena, heading straight for me.
"No choice."
I crouched low, aimed my final shot at the ice rushing in.
CRACK. Third finger down. The explosion of power shattered the front edge of the ice and kicked up a cloud of mist and debris.
For a moment, I thought I had him. But then I saw it.
Through the clearing mist, Todoroki skated in, unfazed, his expression blank. With a stomp, he summoned a massive wall of ice that rose beneath me — too fast to dodge.
I was launched off the ground, thrown clear across the arena.
"MIDORIYA IS OUT OF BOUNDS! TODOROKI ADVANCES!"
The silence before the crowd erupted was deafening.
I lay there, dazed. My fingers throbbed. I stared up at the sky, catching my breath.
Pain spread all over my body as I struggled to get up.
When a calm voice rang out in front of me.
"Aizawa-sensei was right, Midoriya-san. You can't keep going on like this without first fixing your Quirk. Otherwise, you'll just be a burden to others and not a help."
With that, Todoroki left as I stared at his back.
Tears threatened to leave my eyes as I tried my best to not let them out.
I know that.
I know.
But what can I do when my body cannot keep up with the power of OFA?
——————-
As the battle came to an end, Class 1-A began to converse with each other about it.
"Man, it was to be expected," exclaimed Kaminari. "But Midoriya put up way more of a fight than I expected he would."
The others nodded in agreement as Mineta then replied to him sarcastically.
"He certainly lasted longer than you, Zapbrain!"
"Huh—at least I made it to the tournament, you grape midget," Kaminari quickly shot back at the short perv.
As the two were arguing amongst each other, the rest of the class ignored them as Tsu-chan then said,
"Ribbit—next up are Dai and Iida-chan, but that also seems to be unequal~"
"Yeah, Dai's is too strong," agreed Toru as her invisible head nodded up and down.
"Why, of course! No offense to you, Iida, but Harue will win thisss!!" Mina, listening to them, puffed up her chest and said in a proud tone.
The teen in question smiled at her confidence in him as he then turned to Tenya.
"Do your best, Iida. May the best fighter win!!"
"You too, Dai. Don't go easy on me!" Iida smiled back as the two then made their way down with the well wishes of their classmates.
————————————————
[Harue's POV]
The crowd buzzed with anticipation, the kind of noise that rattles your bones. I adjusted my uniform, my body already tingling with heat that hadn't yet surfaced. Across the arena, Tenya Iida stood tall, arms rigid at his sides, a posture that screamed discipline.
He bowed. "Let's both do our best, Dai."
I gave a casual wave, a little half-smile tugging at my lips. "You got it, Speedster."
Midnight raised her hand. "BEGIN!"
Iida didn't waste a second.
Boom. His engines roared, and he launched forward like a missile.
Fast. Even faster than the last round.
But not fast enough.
I could feel the heat building beneath my skin, fire dancing in my veins like a whisper begging to be screamed. But I didn't move. Not yet.
Iida closed the distance in a heartbeat, aiming a sweeping kick at my side. I dipped under it, leaving a trail of steam as my body temperature spiked.
"Close one," I muttered.
I lit up. Flames burst to life across my back and arms, not in an attack, but as a warning. A wall of fire shimmered between us, forcing him to step back.
He didn't hesitate. He launched again — this time from above.
I smirked.
"Ignition Slide!"
I leaned back and kicked into a rocket-propelled slide across the floor, leaving a curved trail of scorched ground behind me. His downward kick landed where I'd been a second ago. The flames danced harmlessly beneath his boots.
I turned, flicked my hand, and launched a plasma pulse — one of the iconic mid-range bursts I'd trained to control. It wasn't strong enough to burn through his uniform and skin, but it packed heat and force.
He crossed his arms, taking the hit and skidding back several feet.
Still standing.
Nice.
He steadied himself, exhaled, then activated Recipro Burst. His engines flared blue, kicking up dust and wind in a storm around him.
"Recipro Turbo: Engage!"
The next few seconds were a blur. I let him come close — wanted to see just how fast he could go. I dodged a flurry of rapid strikes, each one faster than the last. He even clipped my shoulder once.
He was good.
I was better.
"Alright, my turn," I muttered.
My skin glowed, then caught fire completely. Not scorching, not wild — just controlled heat. Enough to intimidate, not incinerate.
"Supernova Vortex."
A swirling column of flame spun around me, forcing Iida to leap back again. This was one of my flashier moves — a move I'd borrowed straight out of Marvel Rivals, refined through brutal training.
He circled me warily, looking for a way in.
"Is that the extent of your flames?" he called out.
I let the vortex disperse into floating embers, my body still lit with flickering flame. "Not even close. But you wouldn't survive the full package."
He gritted his teeth and sprinted again. His speed was decent, but it didn't matter — not when I could predict his angle by watching the airflow distort around him. I charged a Flame Bullet, pulled back just enough to avoid melting him, and launched it low.
He tried to dodge mid-step, but the explosion knocked him off balance. He rolled, grunted, and sprang to his feet.
"Impressive reaction time," I said.
Iida didn't answer — just powered forward with a spinning kick. I caught it with a burst of flame from my palm. The pressure and heat knocked him backward again.
The crowd roared.
I looked at him — the way he stood, panting, fists still clenched. He wasn't giving up.
Respect.
I dialed down the core temp of my fire, just enough that even a close hit would sting but not scar.
Then I ascended.
"Jet Flare."
I shot upward on a column of fire, hovered for half a second, then spiraled downward in a controlled descent — fire trailing from my heels like the tail of a meteor.
Iida tried to move — I saw him crouch, engines spinning back to life — but I hit the ground first, sending a shockwave of fire in every direction.
I focused the burst so it traveled low and wide, not high. Enough to knock him off his feet again — not cook him.
He hit the ground hard and rolled, coughing from the smoke and heat.
He tried to stand.
I walked forward, slowly extinguishing my flames as I did.
"Tenya," I said, voice low but clear, "you've got strength, technique, and speed that makes half the class look like they're walking."
He was on one knee now, one hand clenched.
"But this isn't your match."
He looked up at me — not angry, not humiliated. Just determined.
"I know," he said. "But I had to try."
I nodded and replied with a smirk. "Well, you certainly fared better than the others."
Midnight stepped forward, her voice slicing through the silence. "Match over! Harue Dai advances to the next round!"
The crowd erupted.
But I barely heard them. I held out a hand.
He took it.
A smile had made its way onto his face, one I'm not sure will be there in a few hours.
———
[Endeavor's POV]
The crowd cheered like fools. Deafening, directionless noise. Applauding a show of fire — a spectacle. But I wasn't clapping. I was glaring.
Down in the arena, the boy — Harue Dai — basked in the aftermath of his victory. Cocky and showy. But also commanding. His flames were sharp, refined, terrifyingly efficient. Not just heat and light — control. The kind I spent my whole life mastering.
And he was just a teenager.
Flames like that weren't earned. Not from years of agony and sacrifice. Not forged through generations of selective breeding, like I had done. No, that power was handed to him. Gifted by fate. By genetics. By dumb, cosmic luck.
He had my power — or something even stronger — and he wasn't even my blood.
I clenched my fists, fire crackling from my knuckles. The air around me shimmered with heat, forcing spectators nearby to inch away.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
Shoto was supposed to be the pinnacle. My masterpiece. The culmination of everything I had bled for. A perfect blend of flame and ice. The one meant to crush All Might's shadow. To surpass what I could never reach.
But right now?
Right now, my son was sitting a match away from the finals, and already he was behind. He hadn't even used his flames in his last match. Still clinging to that childish defiance. Still holding himself back because of her.
And Harue? Harue didn't hold back at all.
He was dangerous — not just because of his power. No, it was the way he wielded it. With ease. With instinct. Every move in that fight was deliberate. Calibrated. Held back just enough to avoid killing the Iida boy.
That restraint wasn't mercy. It was mastery.
And it made my stomach churn.
I turned my eyes to where Shoto sat on the bench near the waiting area. He was watching Harue leave the field. Calm. Thoughtful. No tension in his jaw. No flames. Just ice.
Pathetic.
Just like against All Might.
I stood abruptly, flames flaring brighter around my shoulders.
A nearby pro hero raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong, Endeavor?"
"Everything is wrong," I growled, eyes never leaving Shoto. "My son is watching someone else claim the throne I prepared for him."
I remembered the day Shoto first manifested his Quirk. The hope. The relief. The obsession. He was the one. My vessel. My answer to All Might.
And now?
Now there was another flame wielder, just as young, just as talented — maybe more so — and not shackled by legacy, by family, by me.
Shoto was falling behind.
Just like I did.
I gritted my teeth so hard my jaw ached. My flames surged for a split second before I snuffed them out with sheer will.
No.
This wasn't over.
If Shoto wanted to walk his own path, fine. Let him stumble through the shadows.
But he would face that boy.
And when he did, he'd have no choice but to rise.
Or be left in the ashes.
End of the chapter.