After the first match, the stadium was buzzing with noise, but the energy wasn't purely excitement; it was divide.
Some of the audience booed Tsutsumi, calling him merciless and cruel for the way he handled Midoriya. Others defended him with just as much passion, reminding everyone that Midoriya had acted recklessly from the start.
"He is too brutal!" one spectator shouted.
"He gave him chances! Did you even watch the match?!" another snapped back.
The debate rolled through the stands like waves.
Tsutsumi had given Midoriya multiple openings to surrender, even turning his back on him, giving the boy a way out with his pride intact. Yet Midoriya chose to ignore every chance, responding with desperate attacks and unsportsmanlike tactics. To many watching, it was clear: the responsibility for the injuries lay squarely on Midoriya's own shoulders.
It was like a hero spares a defeated villain, giving them a path to retreat, and that enemy spits in his face and lunges again, the consequence is only inevitable.
By the time the match ended, the general consensus formed: Midoriya had disqualified himself. His wounds, harsh as they were, felt less like injustice and more like the natural outcome of his own action.
"Still… he's in bad shape," someone muttered, recalling the state Midoriya was in while he was brought out from the arena.
"And who caused those injuries in the first place?" Another one asks back.
Currently, Midoriya lay in the infirmary, his body wrapped in bandages, his condition serious enough to leave him unconscious.
Uraraka, sitting among her classmates, clenched her fists tightly. Her voice trembled as she whispered, "Deku-kun…"
She wanted to speak out, to call him unfair, heartless, anything to defend the boy she cared about. But when her gaze met Tsutsumi's, her words turned to ash in her throat.
His eyes, cold, calm, and unshaken, simply moved passed her, and for a split second their eyes met. Those purple eyes carried no malice, no regret, just an unspoken message.
I warned him. He chose this.
Uraraka flinched and turned away, her courage crumbling.
Of course, this is all happening inside Uraraka's mind.
Meanwhile, Tsutsumi sat beside Jiro without ceremony, not knowing or having enough care to think about what was going on in his classmate's mind.
He leaned back in his seat, exhaled slowly, and closed his eyes. His posture was relaxed as he leaned against Jiro's shoulder. She didn't move, letting him rest quietly for a moment, even if he was just faking it.
"Thanks for waiting!" Yamada's booming voice thundered across the stadium, immediately pulling the crowd back into excitement. "Next up is… these guys!"
The giant screen flickered, shifting from the results of the previous match to display two new faces: Todoroki Shoto and Shinso Hitoshi.
The crowd erupted into cheers and murmurs.
On one side, Shinso walked out slowly, his posture slouched, his tired eyes scanning the arena with detached calm. On the other, Todoroki's footsteps were steady, sharp, and precise, each one reflecting the weight of expectation that came with his name. His heterochromatic gaze was fixed ahead, unflinching, as though the crowd and noise around him did not exist.
"The underdog nobody thought would make it this far, straight from the Support Course! Shinso Hitoshi!" Yamada's voice carried an electrifying enthusiasm, hyping up the audience. "And his opponent, the son of the Number Two Hero, one of the most powerful recommended students in the Hero Course, Todoroki Shoto!"
Applause thundered through the stands, some fans cheering for Todoroki's overwhelming strength, while others gave nervous support to Shinso, the dark horse who had clawed his way into the spotlight.
The two students reached their positions on the arena floor. Shinso tilted his head slightly, studying Todoroki with faint amusement. He made the first move, not with his quirk, but with words.
"It must be nice," Shinso began, his tone heavy with sarcasm, "having a powerful quirk handed to you from birth. I wonder-"
His attempt at provoking Todoroki never finished.
A deep rumble cut through the air as a torrent of icy frost erupted from Todoroki's feet, spreading outward in an unstoppable surge. The temperature in the stadium plummeted instantly, spectators gasping as their breath fogged in front of their faces.
In a single sweeping motion, a massive glacier of ice consumed half the arena, swallowing Shinso whole. The jagged, towering wall stretched higher than the stadium walls themselves, its force so overwhelming that the ground trembled under its weight.
The crowd went silent in shock.
The glacier didn't stop at Shinso, it kept growing, snaking dangerously close to the stands. The jagged edge of ice stretched toward Class 1-A's seating area, freezing the railing solid. The chilling mist rolled into the front rows, drawing shrieks from spectators as they recoiled from the frost.
Most alarmingly, the ice nearly touched Tsutsumi. Inches from his face, the frozen edge jutted out like a blade ready to pierce. But Tsutsumi, still leaning back casually with his eyes closed against Jiro's shoulder, didn't flinch. He gave no reaction at all, as if the deadly glacier was nothing more than a cool breeze brushing past him.
Jiro stiffened, glancing nervously at the ice beside them, but Tsutsumi's unnerving calmness made her both at ease and somewhat worry, as he slowly open his eyes.
The sight of such overwhelming power left jaws hanging across the stadium. Even Midnight, who had been caught halfway by the ice's expansion, struggled as frost climbed up her legs, freezing her in place. Her voice carried over the arena, strained but clear:
"Shinso is immobilized! Todoroki Shoto advances to the second round!"
The crowd erupted again, this time in thunderous applause, awe, and disbelief. Some cheered wildly for Todoroki's overwhelming display, others whispered uneasily about the sheer destructiveness of his quirk.
As the referee's words confirmed his victory, Todoroki calmly stepped forward. His expression betrayed no excitement, no arrogance, only a cold determination. He reached the glacier and, with a small flick of his left hand, unleashed controlled heat. Melting it and freeing Shinso from his frozen prison.
"Kirashima," Tsutsumi called out lazily, causing the redhead to perk up and turn toward him.
"You need something, Tsutsumi-kun?" Kirishima asked, flashing his usual toothy grin.
"Yeah. Call me when Kyo's match starts. I need to grab my camera." Tsutsumi replied, already getting to his feet.
"Right, you got it, man!" Kirishima said, thumbs-up with shark-like teeth showing.
"Oi! You suck at taking pictures anyway," Jiro shot back, her voice sharp with annoyance but her lips twitching slightly. "There's no reason to capture Momo's defeat with your terrible skills."
Momo: "…"
Momo, who had been quietly sipping her water beside Jiro, froze on the spot. Jiro's jab carried that exact dry edge Tsutsumi usually used, and hearing it out loud made her stiffen.
"Don't beat her too hard, okay," Tsutsumi added, completely unfazed, his voice so casual it was almost cruel. "She might be too scared to face you afterward."
He earned a solid kick under the chin for that one. With an exaggerated step back, he disappeared, vanishing into another world.
The matches went on, one after another.
Tokoyami vs. Sero ended swiftly, Dark Shadow's claws sliced through tape like it was tissue paper, overwhelming Sero before he could even set up a strategy.
Shoji vs. Ashido was more evenly matched, but Shoji's raw strength won out. With one powerful shove, Ashido found herself skidding over the boundary line, frustration all over her face.
Kaminari's fight with Ida… well, that was a disaster. Kaminari fried his brain within the first minute, sparks flying as he went into his familiar dumbed-out state. Ida, dodging all the shocks with his turbo speed, won without breaking a sweat.
By the time Tsutsumi strolled back in, Kirishima and some metallic-looking guy had just knocked each other out in a clash that ended with both of them unconscious on the arena floor.
Tsutsumi raised his camera, snapped a photo of the two sprawled out side by side, and muttered, "This feels anticlimactic."
"Tsutsumi-kun, you've returned," Tokoyami said, his tone calm but with the faintest hint of disappointment. It was obvious he'd hoped Tsutsumi would have been there for his victory. Still, he couldn't exactly be bitter. This was the class president who'd casually skipped two weeks of school without blinking.
"Care to give me a quick rundown of the results?" Tsutsumi asked, brushing it off like nothing happened.
Bakugo, leaning on his chair with his usual scowl, sneered. "Shouldn't have left to take your stupid pictures." He crossed his arms, then grudgingly added, "Bird Face and Multi-Arms won. Glasses outrun Sparky's electricity. Weird Hair drew with some useless extra. And your girlfriend's about to fight Ponytail."
"I see." Tsutsumi murmured, then raised a small paper bag in Bakugo's direction. "Want one?"
Bakugo glanced down inside. "What flavor?"
"Plain sugar."
Bakugo reached in, grabbed two, and immediately took a huge bite of one. "I'm saving the other for Weird Hair when he comes back. Can't believe that dumbass drew with some random extra." His voice was sharp, but the way he chomped down on the donut suggested his anger had shifted into annoyed chewing rather than actual fury.
Before anyone else could even ask, Tsutsumi had already slipped away, heading toward the waiting rooms.
"Ryo?" Jiro looked up, surprised as the door slid open and Tsutsumi stepped into her waiting area. "What're you doing here?"
"Not much," he said with a shrug, leaning against the wall casually. "Just here to warn you not to kill your friends by accident."
She kicked at him instantly, but her tone lacked any true irritation. "Jackass!" she snapped, but it came out more playful than angry.
Tsutsumi only smirked faintly, then held out the same bag from earlier. "Want one?"
She blinked at him, then arched a brow. "What flavor?"
"Plain sugar."
Without hesitation, she reached in and pulled one out, biting into it like it was the most natural thing in the world.
After that, he left the waiting room, heading back toward the Class 1-A stand. On the way, he ran into a large man in a dark-blue skin-tight shirt, dark pants, and heavy boots. Flames crawled from his chest down the outlines of his arms, and an eye mask of pure fire burned across his face. His beard and whiskers were made entirely of flame.
"Oh, there you are." The man said, towering over Tsutsumi, eyes narrowing as he noticed the bag of donuts in the boy's hand. "I've been looking for you."
"Really? 'Cause I wasn't looking for you." Tsutsumi replied flatly, trying to sidestep, only for the man to block his path.
"I'm not done yet." The man puffed up his chest, radiating heat, clearly trying to be intimidating.
Tsutsumi rolled his eyes. "Okay, whoever you are, whatever Girl Scout cookies you're trying to sell, just say it. I'm not buying any."
Endeavor: "…"
The man, none other than Endeavor, the Number Two Hero himself, froze. He couldn't believe this brat didn't even recognize him, even while he was standing here in full hero costume, flames and all. A tick mark popped on his forehead, but he forced himself to keep calm.
"I watched your fight," Endeavor said finally, voice cold and sharp. "You have a remarkable Quirk. Being able to switch between different forms at will… If we're talking pure power, you might even reach All Might's."
"Okay, so are you done?" Tsutsumi finally replied, staring up at him with bored purple eyes as he took a bite from his donut.
Endeavor: "…"
His eyelid twitched. The sheer dismissiveness, the way this brat looked at him like he was just background noise, boiled his blood. Even All Might, his lifelong rival, had never brushed him off like this.
"It is my Shoto's duty to surpass All Might," Endeavor growled, his flames flaring hotter as he stepped past Tsutsumi. He didn't even want to look at the boy anymore. "His match with you will be a very instructive test bed. Don't disgrace yourself."
"Tch! I'm not interested in getting in bed with your son. Get lost, you creep!" Tsutsumi snapped back, clicking his tongue.
Endeavor's eye twitched so violently he looked like he might explode on the spot. In the end, he clenched his teeth, said nothing, and stormed away before his temper made him torch the hallway.