"What is with the look?" Tsutsumi asked as he walked back toward the 1-A stand, raising a brow when he noticed every pair of eyes glued to him.
Their stares weren't ordinary; they were heavy, filled with awe and quiet respect. After all, he had just defeated Todoroki, not with brute force, but with words that had cut deeper than any strike. To them, it was almost like watching a seasoned hero guiding a lost junior back onto the right path.
Tsutsumi blinked, then snapped his fingers as if realization hit him.
"Don't tell me… Todoroki fell down some stairs and died!?" he exclaimed, eyes wide in fake horror.
Everyone: "..."
Todoroki: "..."
For a moment, the silence was so awkward it could shatter glass. No one could even muster a response, not even Todoroki himself, who had literally just returned from the infirmary and was standing right behind him.
"He isn't dead, you jackass! He's standing right behind you!" Jiro yelled, pointing directly at Todoroki like she was scolding a clueless child.
Tsutsumi turned, spotted Todoroki alive and well, then nodded solemnly. "I see… so I don't have to go to his funeral then." He murmured to himself, completely serious, like he'd just solved a complicated math problem.
Everyone: "..."
The silence returned, heavier than before.
"You know, despite being able to say such motivational and amazing lines, Tsutsumi-kun," Asui finally spoke up, her large, frog-like eyes narrowing at him. "You said a lot of hurtful words."
Without missing a beat, Tsutsumi shot back, his tone sharp and casual at the same time.
"If a few words from a single person are enough to make you cry and feel hurt, are you sure you're in the right department? Are you planning to be a hero or a people-pleaser?"
Everyone: "..."
That single line silenced the entire class once again. Annoying as it was, none of them could deny that it hit harder than they wanted to admit.
Trying to break the tension, Sero scratched the back of his neck. "Has anyone ever told you that you have a toxic mouth?"
Tsutsumi turned to look at him, stared for a moment like he was genuinely trying to remember, then asked flatly, "Who are you again?"
HIT! PERFECT! CRITICAL DAMAGE!
Sero paled instantly, staggering back like he'd taken a fatal blow.
"So… I wasn't even important enough to be remembered…" he muttered, collapsing to his knees in defeat.
Tsutsumi, completely unbothered, returned to his seat beside Jiro. She pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a long, exasperated sigh.
Sure, his words could come out cool and inspiring, sometimes even moving. But if only he could stop tearing people down right after… maybe, just maybe, he'd actually have more friends by now.
The next match was Tokoyami versus Shoji. Compared to the explosive clash between Tsutsumi and Todoroki, this fight felt tame, almost like a sparring exercise. Tokoyami's Dark Shadow lashed out, keeping Shoji's multi-arms at bay, while Shoji countered with his reach and flexibility, forcing Tokoyami to stay cautious.
It quickly became clear: this wasn't a flashy battle of power, but a contest of endurance and positioning. Whoever shoved the other out of bounds first would win.
After several minutes of back-and-forth, the fight reached its conclusion when Dark Shadow managed to slice off one of Shoji's arms. Though Shoji could regrow it, the pain still rattled him enough that he surrendered, leaving Tokoyami the victor.
The next match, Ida versus Kirishima, wasn't much livelier. Ida blitzed across the arena, using his speed to try and shove Kirishima out. But every time his shoulder rammed into Kirishima's hardened body, it was like smashing into a slab of stone. Kirishima, in turn, dug his heels into the ground, tanked the hits, and swung back with heavy punches.
Another stalemate. Another endurance test.
By the halfway point, Tsutsumi had already slumped against Jiro's shoulder, fast asleep. The monotony of the battle was enough to knock him out cold.
By the time he cracked his eyes open again, Ida was sprawled on the ground, nursing injuries from repeatedly crashing into a human brick wall. Kirishima was declared the winner.
Then the final match of the second began.
"Do your best, Kyo," Tsutsumi said quietly to the nervous Jiro.
"Thanks," she replied simply, before walking off.
Yamada's voice thundered across the stadium.
"Now! For the final match of the second round! The only female left in the battle tournament, known for her powerful kicking speed and rocking quirk! From the hero course, Jiro Kyoka!"
The crowd erupted as Jiro stepped into the arena, her gaze calm but her fists clenched tightly.
"And her opponent! The man who has been blowing through his opponent one by one, blowing his way through the competition, quite literally! From the hero course, Bakugo Katsuki!"
Bakugo strode out, hands shoved in his pockets, his palms sparking with miniature blasts. The audience roared at the sight of him.
"Let's make this quick," Bakugo sneered, smoke curling from his palms. "I'm more interested in your boyfriend than you."
"Not you too..." Jiro muttered, rolling her eyes. First her parents, then her old classmates, and now Bakugo.
"Three... two... one... START!!"
Bakugo launched himself forward like a cannonball, right fist flaring with a blast. Jiro fell backward deliberately, palms slamming against the ground. With the momentum, she swung her right leg upward and cracked him across the jaw.
The crowd gasped.
"Incredible! Jiro lands the first hit!" Yamada shouted, his voice nearly drowned out by the cheers.
Bakugo staggered but caught himself, spitting blood as his lips curled into a furious grin. Jiro used the momentum to spin around and land back on her feet.
Everyone didn't expect Jiro to actually be the first to land a hit. Although Jiro's quirk is unique, it isn't as flashy and powerful as Bakugo's. So no one has expected her to be even able to touch him, like how his previous opponent, with her powerful vine-like quirk, couldn't.
"That move..." he growled.
"Yeah. Didn't think you'd fall for it again," Jiro shot back, recalling the beach fight between him and Tsutsumi.
With a roar, Bakugo launches himself forward, hurling an explosion that forces Jiro into a roll. He followed with another, then another, each blast tearing into the ground. She weaved through them, rolling, sliding, pushing forward, until she saw an opening.
Her leg snapped out and slammed into his ribs.
Bakugo hissed, grabbing her leg and blasting her point-blank. Pain jolted through her body, but before he could fling her, Jiro's earphone jacks lashed out and stabbed into his throat. Bakugo gagged, coughing, and reflexively released her, staggering back.
"Tch! You're just as annoying as him," Bakugo rasped, rubbing his neck.
"You'll get used to it," Jiro said, shaking her injured leg.
The crowd roars, cheering for them.
The arena was shaking with cheers now, captivated by their clash. Unlike the endurance battles earlier, this fight was brutal hand-to-hand combat, both quirks amplifying every strike. They charged at each other again.
Gasping for air, Jiro was exhausted, her body was covered with scratches and a few light burns, and her sports clothes had a few scorches and burnt marks.
Bakugo was also gasping, but unlike Jiro, his injury was as hard as Jiro's, partly because her attacks are mostly blunt strikes, and her hit wasn't as hard as Tsutsumi's.
"Why are you even fighting so hard?" Bakugo barked, smoke hissing from his palms, mostly from the sting of overusing his quirk.
Which somewhat pissed him off, seeing the person who actually made him overuse it wasn't the one he viewed as a rival, but Jiro, the seemingly ordinary girl who always hung out with him.
"You know your chance of winning is zero. So why do you still fight?" Bakugo asks. Another explosion sent Jiro skidding, but she dug her fingers into the ground to stop herself from going out of bounds.
"Do you even have to ask that?" She murmurs. Slowly, painfully, she pushed herself back up. "A hero doesn't run away... You of all people should know this lesson..."
Bakugo's face twisted, anger and pride clashing.
"Tch! You don't need to remind me, I'll be the best hero there is! Surpassing even him and All Might!" he roared, propelling himself like a missile, arm cocked back for the final blow.
Cornered and out of breath, Jiro went all in. Her earphone jacks shot forward, stabbing into his chest just as Bakugo's explosion detonated point-blank. The blast scorched her body, but she screamed as she unleashed her heartbeat directly into him.
The shockwave ripped through Bakugo's nerves, fracturing ribs and stealing his breath. Blood burst from his mouth as he staggered backward, his quirk flickering.
Then, Jiro's body tumbled out of bounds.
"Jiro is out of bounds! Bakugo advances to the Semi-finals!" Midnight's whip cracked through the air.
Bakugo stood there stunned, clutching his chest, ribs grinding with pain. For one terrifying second, he realized if her soundwave had lasted any longer, or gone deeper, she could have shut him down completely.
As Jiro was carried off unconscious, Bakugo turned away, scowling to hide the unease gnawing at him.
From the stands, Tsutsumi rose without a word and left the 1-A seats.
...
After finishing his treatment with Recovery Girl, Bakugo stepped out of the infirmary, only to be greeted by Tsutsumi standing there with two small boxes in hand.
"Yo. Want some?" Tsutsumi casually held one out.
Bakugo glanced inside. Takoyaki. He blinked, a little caught off guard, before taking it. "...Thanks."
He didn't dig in right away, his expression clouded after his match with Jiro. "Did you know she could do that?"
Tsutsumi didn't miss a beat. "She nearly killed you, right? Her jacks can channel the vibration of her heartbeat outward as shockwaves. The faster her pulse, the stronger the blast."
Bakugo's scowl deepened.
"So…" he muttered, voice low, "she was holding back the whole damn time?"
He replayed the match in his head, every opening, every chance she had to use that attack but didn't. And only at the very end, cornered and desperate, had she unleashed it. Rage flared hot in his chest.
Tsutsumi glanced at him, his tone calm but pointed. "Don't twist it. Her control over that move is shaky. One misstep and she could stop someone's heart. She's trying to be a hero, not a killer."
Bakugo froze.
The anger boiling inside him sputtered out, leaving something heavier in its place. He knew better than most how hard it was to rein in a quirk that could wreck someone's life with one mistake.
Without answering, he shoved a takoyaki into his mouth and stalked off.
Tsutsumi, meanwhile, stepped into the infirmary. Jiro lay unconscious in one bed, the mossy-haired Midoriya in another with a skeletal man watching over him. Tsutsumi ignored the latter, pulling up a chair beside Jiro. He sat there silently, the noise of the festival muffled beyond the walls.
Break time slipped by until his name was finally called for the semifinals.
"Don't worry, dear, she's in good hands," Recovery Girl said warmly. "I'll be sure to let her know you stayed by her side."
"I see." Tsutsumi placed the takoyaki box on her stand, then unclasped the camera from around his neck and set it beside the food before standing.
As he left, Recovery Girl's smile softened into something knowing. "Ahh… young love," she sighed, turning her gaze back to the unconscious Jiro. "You really are lucky to find someone like him."
Her gaze shifted toward All Might and his favorite student, Midoriya. With a sharp squint, she jabbed her oversized syringe at the skeletal man.
"You should watch and learn, Toshinori. You're what now? Over fifty? And still not a single woman to bring home?"
"B-But I-" All Might tried to defend himself, but the old woman's glare silenced him.
"Waste! I even feel ashamed on behalf of your parents for raising a son like you!" she barked, smacking his arm with her oversized syringe.
All Might: "..."
He had no words. How could he? This was the woman who knew every secret about his condition, who had patched him up more times than he could count, who had treated him like a grandson back when he was still a reckless student at U.A. Every time his teacher nearly broke him in half, it was her who stitched him back together. And every scolding, every smack, came from that same place of care.
But then her voice softened, though her words cut deeper than any blow. "Still, you made a mistake, Toshinori. That boy is more suited for One For All than your successor."
The skeletal blond froze. His eyes widened in shock.
"I think young Tsutsumi would also make a fine successor," He let out a sigh, before speaking. "But his personality… It's not what I would call ideal. If we're speaking of pure heroism, then I believe young Midoriya is the better choice."
Another voice slid into the infirmary. "That's where I would have to disagree, Toshinori."
Principal Nezu padded into the room, his ever-present smile widening as he hopped onto a chair.
"You too, Nezu…?" All Might murmured, sounding more betrayed than surprised.
"Yes," Nezu replied, folding his paws together neatly. "Do you know what's most fascinating about young Tsutsumi? For most of his life, he lived as though he were quirkless, completely unaware of the true potential his ability carried. And then, only about a year ago, he suddenly decided he wanted to attend U.A. His teachers from his old school were utterly shocked."
He let the suspense hang in the air, watching both All Might and Recovery Girl lean in unconsciously.
"But then he arrived here, and what did we see? A student wielding his quirk with the confidence and precision of someone who had been honing it for years. Later, we discovered the truth: his skills don't just come from practice. They come from his dreams."
Both All Might and Recovery Girl stiffened, eyes widening.
"Yes," Nezu said, his tone almost playful, "in his dreams, he learns. He observes, he remembers, and when he wakes, the knowledge is his. Call it instinct, call it genius, call it something else entirely. But with talent like that… tell me, Toshinori." His smile sharpened.
"How long do you think it would take him to master One For All?"