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Beginning of Chapter
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The stadium still hadn't recovered from the storm Gojo left behind.
Everywhere in the stands, voices buzzed, some in awe, others in fear. No matter the angle, no matter the perspective, everyone had seen the same thing.
Monoma erased, Monoma copied… yet Gojo still stood untouchable.
The atmosphere was thick. Excited, but uneasy.
Near the 1-B stands, Kendo's fists clenched against the railing, teeth gritted. "Damn it, Monoma…" she whispered, her usual composure cracking. "He really believed he could beat Gojo. And he—" her voice tightened, "—he didn't even get a chance."
Juzo Honenuki frowned, his analytical mind racing. 'He rejected it. Like trying to fit the wrong key into a lock. If even Erasure and Copy don't affect him… then what is Gojo?'
Ibara bowed her head, fingers tangled in her vine-like hair as if in prayer. "A being untouchable by mortal means… it's blasphemous. Dangerous. He walks in God's domain."
Across the arena, in the VIP seats, Endeavor's arms were folded, jaw tight as his flames flickered hotter across his shoulders.
"…Uncopyable. Uneraseable. Untouchable," he muttered, his glare locked onto the white-haired boy who sat with his class. "A quirk that ignores every rule we've known for over a century…" His teeth ground together. "…And it belongs to a teenager."
Beside him, Edgeshot's expression was unreadable. "Not even Erasure works. That's… troubling. If suppression doesn't affect him, then the usual counters for dangerous quirks are worthless. He could stand against anyone."
Kamui Woods leaned forward, wooden arms curling nervously. "That's… too much. If he ever went rogue, no, if he ever even slipped... who could stop him?"
At that moment, a woman with chin-length blonde hair, which she wears swept back with a headband. With thin, yellow, inward-tilting eyes with slit pupils.
Her hero costume consists of a dark red, with a pale green scale trim around her shoulders, which seems to only be slit on the left side. She wore a matching green headband with four large, pale purple claws attached, covering the right side of her face, had arrived.
This was the Dragon Hero, Ryukyu. She slipped into the row in which Endeavor and Edgeshot were in.
She sat down beside the flame covered hero, eyes narrowing as she caught the last of Monoma being dragged from the field. "Endeavor," she said evenly. "I came late. Fill me in. What just happened?"
Endeavor's jaw tightened further, but his eyes never left Gojo. "…You missed it. The strongest quirk we've seen in decades. Not even Aizawa's Erasure could stop him. Not even Copy could replicate him."
His growl was bitter, like recognition twisted into resentment. "…He's something this world has never seen before."
Ryukyu's eyes widened slightly. "…Then Japan has a new pillar. Or a new threat."
The crowd's tension simmered, but Present Mic's booming voice cut through it, dragging everyone back to the present. "ALRIGHT, EVERYONE, SHAKE IT OFF! NEXT UP, WE GOT A REAL MATCH FOR YOU, MINA ASHIDO VERSUS SHINSO HITOSHI!"
Cheers erupted, though the nerves still lingered.
Mina bounced onto the stage, flashing her usual grin and throwing up peace signs to the crowd. "Yoo, let's go! Alright, who's coming at me?"
Momo, Uraraka and Jirou all cheered on their friend from the stands..
On the stage walked a relatively tall young man with messy, indigo colored hair that flared out in large tufts around his head. Shinso Hitoshi.
Shinso walked in slower, his tired eyes sweeping the stands as he approached the playform. He looked bored, almost unimpressed.
The match began the moment the buzzer rang.
"You know," Shinso spoke, his voice sharp as a knife, "you really think the crowd loves you, huh? But let's be honest, look at you. Pink skin? Horns? You don't look like a hero. You look like a mistake."
"You…" her voice shook, but it carried an anger that started to grow. "You think I'm a mistake because I look different?" She stomped her foot, acid sizzling faintly against the concrete.
"Pretty much." Shinso didn't flinch. He simply slipped his hands into his pockets, gaze half-lidded.
She pointed her finger at him, her body trembling with emotion, "I am a–" Suddenly Mina's body stiffened, eyes going blank.
And that was when Shinso's devilshish grin appeared across his face.
"Walk off the stage," Shinso ordered calmly, pointing to the ground off the stage.
The crowd gasped as Mina turned on her heel, walking stiffly toward the edge. With a single step, she crossed the boundary and froze in place, consciousness snapping back just in time to realize what had happened.
"What just ha–?" Right as she looked around, confusion on her face as Present Mic's booming voice shaking the stadium.
"AND THAT'S IT, FOLKS!" Present Mic roared, leaping to his feet. "GENERAL STUDENT, SHINSO HITOSHI WINS THE MATCH"
Midnight's heels clicked sharply against the arena floor as she strode forward, her whip trailing behind her. She lifted the microphone she yanked from Present Mic, her voice dropping into a sultry, commanding tone that nevertheless carried the gravity of a judge, standing next to Shinso.
"Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to clarify what just happened. Shinso Hitoshi's quirk, Brainwashing, activates the moment his opponent verbally responds to him. Once under his control, his victims will follow his commands without resistance… until the effect breaks. It's subtle, terrifying, and incredibly effective."
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Parents clutched their children closer, pros exchanged uneasy glances as wispers went around the stadium
"Brainwash... isn't that a villain quirk?" A parent said holding her daughter.
"Unlike physical quirks you can see and prepare for," Midnight continued, eyes narrowing at the stunned Mina who still lingered on the edge of the stage, "this one is psychological warfare.
One slip of the tongue, one emotional reaction, and the fight is over before it even begins." She tilted her head toward Shinso, putting her free hand on his shoulder. "And as you just saw, Shinso knows exactly what to say to bait his prey."
The stadium buzzed with even more energy than before, the tension shifting into excitement for what else was to come, roaring with a mixture of admiration and unease.
Kirishima shot to his feet, fists clenched. "Mina! You okay?!" he said, Mina slowly approaching their stand, going to an empty seat.
She waved him off from below, forcing a grin, though her hands trembled as she stepped past Kirishima and Momo. "Y-yeah, I'm fine. Just… ugh, what a cheap trick."
"Cheap?" Bakugo snorted, leaning back with arms crossed. "Tch. No. That was smart. He played you like a damn fiddle. One mistake and now you're out. That guy's dangerous."
Gojo, who hadn't so much as twitched since the match began, finally cracked a smile as he adjusted his blindfold. "Ohhh, now that's fun. Cold, efficient. He'll be interesting to talk to."
'Honestly, kind of like Aizawa, tried, lazy looking with a crazy quirk, probably even works the same with brain signals.' Gojo thought to himself.
Back in the stands of 1-A, Uraraka asked, turning toward Gojo, "So, who do you think's got the next round? Kaminari or Todoroki?"
Gojo hummed thoughtfully. "Kaminari's got a chance. He's grown a lot. His control's improved, and if he catches Todoroki off guard, he could fry him before the ice wall goes up."
His lips quirked into a smile. "But… Todoroki's precision is ridiculous. And control beats raw output nine times out of ten. Kaminari will put up a good fight, but he'll lose."
The cheers still shook the stadium. Shinso walked off the stage towards his classmates, hearing then cheer him on as their very own saviour into the second rounds.
Shinso's tired eyes flicked to the bracket. His chest began to tighten. His thoughts began to race, pounding against his skull.
'I won... but that means… I'm up against him... A-against Gojo.'
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Location- Kamino Ward.
The room was dim, lit only by the glow of monitors. On one screen, Gojo stood, displayed in perfect detail from the Sports Festival cameras.
Shigaraki's distorted voice crackled through one feed, his face contorted with rage. "HE KEEPS STEALING THE SPOTLIGHT! HOW IS THIS FAIR?! HE'S JUST A KID, HOW CAN HE—"
With a tap, Garaki muted the feed, sighing in relief.
"All For One," Garaki asked nervously as he glanced to his friend, "If this boy truly is… uncopyable, uneraseable, and immune to suppression… what do we do? If he keeps growing, he'll be as big a threat as All Might... maybe bigger."
All For One leaned forward, his ruined face catching the glow. His voice was calm, deliberate. "Then we do what I always do. We adapt. We prepare."
'It's almost as if the boy doesn't have a quirk at all… but a law. Something fundamental. I would love to meet this boy...' All For One thought to himself.
His head shifted toward Ryomen, who sat silently nearby, his expression unreadable as he stared at the same monitor.
"…But this one… this Gojo," AFO murmured. "He might require something different. Something... personal. Garaki. Do narrate the battles concerning Gojo and that class of his for me."
As Garaki nodded, he began explaining to his friend the next match between Kaminari and Todoroki.
In a slight moment, Ryomen's lips curved into a grin, his hand twitching, the itch he had to slaughter grew.
"How about soon we have a bit of... father and son bonding, huh?" he said softly.
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Back at the U.A. Sports Festival...
The stadium rumbled as sparks lit up the stage, Kaminari standing firm, electricity dancing across his arms like wild serpents. He wasn't the same scattershot idiot from the start of U.A. his posture was tighter, his sparks more focused, his eyes burning with determination.
"Don't think you'll win easy, Todoroki!" he yelled, launching a concentrated surge forward. The bolts didn't scatter wildly this time, they arced straight, slamming into a wall of ice.
Shoto barely moved, his hand raised lazily. "You've improved." he said flatly, another glacier erupting to swallow the lightning.
But Kaminari wasn't done. He roared, pushing his output higher than before. The electricity crackled louder, his control sharp. A wave of power forced back the advancing ice, shards shattering under the sheer voltage.
The crowd erupted. Even Present Mic leaned forward, voice booming, "Whoa! Look at that spark fly! Kaminari's cooking!"
But then Todoroki stepped forward, eyes narrowing. His breath frosted in the air. "I'll end this now."
With a sweep of his arm, an avalanche of ice exploded outward, encasing nearly the entire arena in glittering blue and white. Kaminari vanished beneath it, frozen solid mid stance.
The crowd hushed, Present Mic raising the mic to declare the result. When suddenly...
CRACK!
Lightning shattered the ice. Kaminari burst free, screaming as arcs of blinding power surged outward.
His hair spiked, eyes wild, the stage trembling with his surge. For a moment, it looked like he might push through.
But his movements were sluggish, his breaths heavy. His control faltered, sparks flickering irregularly. Todoroki calmly raised his hand again, and another massive wave of ice swallowed Kaminari whole, locking him down for good.
Present Mic shouted, "AND THE WINNER IS TODOROKI!"
The crowd cheered, but the way Kaminari had clawed his way back earned him more than a loss. Pro Heroes commented on his determination, the control and output of his quirk gaining their interest.
Even Todoroki's eyes lingered on him for a second longer than usual.
The screen shifted.
"Next up... URARAKA OCHACO VS SERO HANTA!"
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End of Chapter
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