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Beginning of Chapter
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The day had finally come. The annual U.A. Sports Festival, an event that was as much a spectacle as it was a proving ground.
The stadium itself loomed like a modern colosseum, its sheer size a testament to U.A.'s reputation. Tens of thousands of spectators filled the stands, the air trembling with chants, cheers, and the electric buzz of anticipation.
Colorful streamers and confetti spiraled through the air like dancing flames, glittering under the sunlight. The massive jumbotron flashed highlight reels of past festivals, showing heroic displays of strength, speed, and sheer determination. Each flicker of the screen only heightened the crowd's fervor.
In the VIP seats sat rows of pro heroes, each with their own distinctive aura. Some calm and calculating, jotting in notebooks as if dissecting the potential of every student, others leaning forward in excitement, eager to witness raw, unpolished talent.
Some notable figures included Endevour, Best Jeanist, Edgeshot and many more.
This was the stage where the next generation of heroes made their mark, and none of them wanted to miss it.
Then, the booming, larger than life voice of Present Mic erupted through the stadium, rattling the very steel beams of the structure.
"YEEEEAAAH! WELCOME, EVERYBODY, TO THE ONE AND ONLYYY... U.A. SPORTS FESTIVAL!!!"
The crowd exploded in response, flags waving, voices rising into a deafening roar that felt like it could split the heavens.
"ALLRIGHTTT! LET'S MAKE SOME NOISE!!"
Down below, in the tunnels beneath the colosseum, Class 1-A sat in their locker room, the muffled screams of tens of thousands echoing faintly through the reinforced walls. The energy outside seeped in, making the air inside thick with tension.
Students shifted restlessly on the benches, some bouncing their legs in nervous rhythm, others sitting rigidly, hands clenched into fists. Conversations overlapped, hushed mutterings of strategy, nervous laughter, words of reassurance.
For all of them, they knew this wasn't just a school event. It was their chance to prove themselves. Their chance to shine under the gaze of Japan's strongest heroes, and in front of the entire nation.
And waiting just outside those walls was the stage that would decide how the world remembered their names.
Some students stretch, others sit quietly, but all eyes turn when Midnight strides in, heels clicking against the floor.
"Listen up, brats. This is your debut in front of the world. The Sports Festival isn't just games, it's your future. Pro heroes, agencies, the whole country's watching. Class reps—"
her eyes flicked around the room towards Satoru and Midoriya "—keep your classmates in line. You're representing U.A., not just yourselves."
She smirks, flipping her whip lazily. "You've got five minutes. Make them count."
As she leaves, a silence falls. In small clusters, students huddle together, whispering tactical ideas.
Conversations began to bubble up once more, although they carried a different edge now. More nervous, sharp, tinged with both excitement and dread.
Kirishima threw his arm around Kaminari's shoulder, forcing a grin. "Come on, man, don't look like you're about to short-circuit already. We're here to show off how manly we are, right?"
Kaminari gave a weak laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Y-Yeah, totally. No problem. Just the entire country watching me fry my brain… no pressure."
Iida adjusted his glasses with a sharp motion. "Let us not forget that this is not merely about victory, but about conduct. Our demeanor will be as closely observed as our strength. We must uphold U.A.'s honor!"
The tension swirled thicker and thicker, the whole class either hyping themselves up or drowning quietly in nerves.
And then, all eyes gradually shifted toward the one person who hadn't said a word.
Gojo sat slouched on the bench, legs stretched out, arms resting loosely on the backrest as if the room and the Festival itself, were nothing more than a mild inconvenience. His blindfold hid his eyes, but the lazy curve of his grin was visible enough.
"Man," he spoke out, breaking the silence, "you guys are wound tighter than Aizawa's scarf."
A few of them blinked at him.
Gojo tilted his head, the grin sharpening just a touch. "Relax. You've already made it this far. That means you've got something worth showing. All that's left… is to show it. Simple as that."
The casual ease in his voice was infuriating and reassuring all at once. He wasn't trying to rally them, wasn't even trying to comfort anyone, yet somehow, the weight in their chests eased a little.
Bakugo scoffed, cracking his knuckles. "Tch. Don't lump me in with these extras. I don't need some blindfolded clown telling me to relax."
Gojo just chuckled, leaning back further. "Good. Then prove it. That's all this Festival is anyway. Proving yourself. Personally…" he let the relaxed smile turn into a large grin, "I plan on having a little fun. You all better keep up."
The room went quiet again. Only this time, it wasn't suffocating tension. It was focus, sharp and heavy.
Because no matter what nerves they carried, one fact was clear... they were walking onto the same stage as Satoru Gojo.
And that meant they couldn't afford to be anything less than extraordinary.
A few minutes later....
Class 1-A and Class 1-B lined up together with the other departments, all waiting for the formal introduction. Students whispered among themselves, sizing up the competition, glancing nervously at the stands packed with pro heroes and scouts.
"Man, this crowd's insane," Kaminari muttered, tugging on his collar. "Feels like we're gladiators or something."
"Gladiators that have to win," Todoroki replied coldly, his eyes already fixed ahead.
And then Midnight strutted to the center platform, her voice amplified through the stadium.
"Welcome, everyone, to the annual U.A. Sports Festival! The stage where future heroes are born!"
The crowd erupted, chanting, whistling, clapping. Midnight raised her hand for silence, then smirked.
"And now, as tradition dictates… the student pledge! This year, representing the Hero Course… Gojo Satoru from Class 1-A!"
A wave of murmurs spread across the stadium. Everyone remembers and heard of him. The boy who took down the All Might killing machine. Tensions built as they awaited to hear what hed say. Even among the students, heads whipped toward Gojo.
He sighed, slouched casually, then walked forward with hands in his pockets, the spotlight following him. His blindfold shimmered in the sunlight, his posture lazy, almost bored, as he walked up to the podium.
"Of course it's him," Monoma muttered with clenching his teeth.
Gojo reached the podium, tilted his head, and smirked. "Yo. Guess I'm the lucky one."
A laugh rippled through the stands at his casualness, but the tension among students only tightened.
Gojo tapped the mic, his tone playful, yet each word sharp enough to cut. "Well, this festival's all about proving ourselves, right? Showing who's got what it takes to be the next top hero. And I'm sure you'll all do great and at the award ceremony, you'll all look great...'
He paused, grinning.
"…in silver and bronze. Because gold's already mine."
The stadium erupted, a mix of gasps, laughter, and wild cheers. The crowd loved the arrogance. Pro heroes leaned forward in their seats with interest.
Class 1-B and the other classes bristled immediately, murmurs of anger spreading. Even some in Class 1-A scowled at his cockiness,
And then Bakugo exploded. Literally.
"DON'T FUCKING JOKE WITH ME!" he roared, sparks flying from his hands as he stepped out of line. "I'M THE ONE WHO'S TAKING FIRST PLACE, YOU BLINDFOLDED BASTARD! I'LL KICK YOUR ASS IN FRONT OF EVERYONE!"
The crowd went wild at the clash of egos. Midnight laughed, clearly pleased with the drama.
Gojo just turned his head lazily toward Bakugo, smiling under the blindfold. "Good. I am hoping someone would at least try."
Then he strolled back toward his class, hands still in his pockets, as if the entire stadium weren't already on fire with excitement.
The stadium was buzzing. Cheers, jeers, and chants of "Gojo!" Came as a storm of noise that shook the colosseum. Even the pros in the VIP seats leaned closer, eyes fixed on the boy in the blindfold.
Present Mic's voice boomed over the uproar, barely containing his excitement.
"WOOO! YOU HEARD THAT, FOLKS?! Not only is Class 1-A packing some serious firepower, but we've got the showstopper himself! The boy who fought side by side with Eraserhead against the USJ invasion, who stalled that nightmare Nomu long enough to protect his class, and who finished the beast himself!"
The crowd roared louder, the jumbotron flashing slowed-down clips of Gojo's battle stance during the USJ attack, paired with dramatic camera zooms and slow mos.
"THE ONE AND ONLY… THE 'HONOURED ONE'… SATORU GOJOOO!" Present Mic shouted, voice cracking with sheer hype.
Gojo just raised his hand in a half-wave, the grin on his face unreadable under the blindfold aside from his grin.
Midnight's sultry laugh cut through the noise, her whip cracking in the air as she reclaimed the mic. "Alright, alright, calm down, people, we've still got a festival to run!" she purred. "And what better way to kick things off than with our first event, the obstacle race!"
The entirety of class 1-A groaned, already understanding they had all lost, Bakugo one more straw away from ripping his hair out.
"Four kilometers of track!" Midnight declared, pacing as her heels clicked against the stage. "Traps, robots, terrain, you name it, we've got it. The entire stadium will be watching your every step. Only the fastest, smartest, and strongest will advance!"
Sero closed his eyes, having accepted his and their fate with a smile. "We're screwed…"
Kaminari groaned, rubbing his temples. "Man, of course it's a race first. U.A. just loves torturing us. This isnt fair."
Gojo just hummed lazily, stretching his arms. "Obstacle course, huh? Guess I'll jog it. Don't wanna end it too fast."
The class groaned even louder. Some other classes looking at why they were upset.
"Go get to your starting position!" Midnight pointed to the large red hallway which was built into the stadium as the starting line. Everyone immediately rushed for a good front spot to be at.
The stadium fell silence as on the screen, a timer counted down from 5.
5
Everyone was pushing and shoving, wanting to get out first for a good lead. Todoroki muttered the words pathetic, his entire arm getting covered in front to initiate his plan.
4
Suddenly everyone saw a figure walking calmly towards them. Satoru Gojo had not rushed to get a spot. And instead of running to get to the spot im time, he took a leisurely stroll with a smile.
3
Midnight was about to tell him to hurry up, before Aizawa appeared next to her and shook his head. Monoma gritted his teeth that he got all the spotlight.
2
The tension was unbearable, the crowd focusing on Gojo, some worried, a light blue hue glowing from his hand as a blue sphere formed.
1
The buzzer went off, and the only thing people heard was Present mics voice shouting throughout the stadium, along with gasps and screams as the stadium lit up with amazement to what they had just seen.
One moment he was there.
And in the next?
A distortion of space had rippled and tore through the air, dust and litter debris sucked forward as Gojo vanished.
"OH MY GOD FOLKS, HES ALREADY TWO KILOMETERS AHEAD!"
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End of Chapter
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