Chapter 36 : Alliance of the Forsaken
The fifteen-minute timer was a merciless god, its red digits ticking down on the giant stadium screen, each second a lifetime. For Rock Lee, it was a slow, public execution of his hopes. The roar of the crowd was a distant, mocking sea of noise. He stood in the center of the field, a lone island in a churning ocean of frantic negotiations, the ten-million-point target on his head feeling less like a crown and more like a gravestone.
He watched the world build its walls around him. He saw Bakugo, a snarling vortex of ambition, instantly claim Kirishima with a possessive grip on his shoulder. "You're with me," was all he said, and Kirishima's wide, sharp-toothed grin was all the answer he needed. They were a natural disaster in the making, and they quickly pulled Sero and Mina into their orbit, forming a team that promised nothing but relentless, joyful destruction.
Across the field, Todoroki moved with the cold, silent efficiency of a glacier. He did not ask; he assessed and acquired. He approached Iida and Yaoyorozu, his logic as sharp and clear as the ice he wielded. He explained their optimal roles, their perfect synergy, the mathematical certainty of their success. It was not a team born of passion, but of cold, hard strategy, and they accepted, recognizing the flawless logic of his plan.
Lee made his own attempts, his heart heavy but his spirit unbroken. He approached Ojiro, a fellow martial artist, hoping for a bond of shared discipline. Ojiro met his gaze, his expression filled with genuine, deep regret. "Lee, I'm sorry," he said, gesturing with his tail to a team he had already joined with Shoji and Sato. "Your power is incredible, but... that headband is a declaration of war on everyone here. We have to be realistic."
It was a sentiment echoed in every pair of eyes he met. They were not cruel. They were pragmatic. He was not an outcast because they disliked him; he was an outcast because he was a tactical impossibility, a guaranteed path to failure. The loneliness was a quiet, cold weight settling in his chest.
Meanwhile, a different kind of strategy was brewing within the ranks of Class 1-B. Neito Monoma was in his element, his voice dripping with theatrical mockery as he rallied his classmates. "Behold, Class B! The so-called elites of 1-A are already fracturing! They are arrogant! They believe this festival is already theirs! We shall unite, and we shall be the ones to shatter their hubris, starting with that ten-million-point simpleton!"
Most of his class cheered, caught up in his charismatic, antagonistic fervor. But Itsuka Kendo stood apart, her arms crossed, a thoughtful frown on her face. Beside her, Ibara Shiozaki listened to Monoma's speech, her expression serene and distant.
He is a fool, Kendo thought, her mind a flurry of strategic calculations. His plan is fueled by ego, not by a desire to win. A chaotic, class-wide assault will fail. It lacks focus. The true path to victory is not to join the horde attacking the fortress... it is to be inside the fortress when the attack comes. Her eyes drifted across the field, landing on the solitary figure of Rock Lee. He is the strongest piece on the board, and he has been left completely unguarded.
Shiozaki's thoughts were less tactical and more philosophical, rooted in her deep connection to the natural world. Monoma speaks of pride and humiliation, she mused internally, her vine-like hair shifting as if in response to her thoughts. But nature does not concern itself with such things. The strongest trees are not those in the densest forest, but those that stand alone on a windswept cliff, their roots forced to grow deeper to withstand the constant storm. That boy… he stands against the wind. But he has no roots to hold him fast.
Kendo turned to her, their minds arriving at the same conclusion from different paths. "Listening to him will get us eliminated in the first five minutes," Kendo said, her voice a low, determined whisper. "I have a different, much riskier, and much more logical plan."
Ibara turned her head, a small, knowing smile on her lips. "I believe the seeds of my thoughts have grown in the same soil as yours, Kendo-san."
With a shared, decisive nod, the two girls broke away from the astonished Class 1-B and began a purposeful walk across the field. A wave of shocked whispers followed them. A cross-class alliance was rare. An alliance with the world's biggest target was unthinkable.
Lee saw them coming, his surprise evident on his face. He braced himself for a challenge, but their expressions held no malice.
"Rock Lee," Kendo said, her voice crisp and clear. She was direct, no time wasted. "You need a team. We need a path to the finals that is based on strategy, not on Monoma's petty grudges. My fists can be your shield. Her vines can be your cage. Together, we have a chance."
Lee was taken aback. "But your class... Monoma-kun... he will see this as a betrayal," he stated, his sense of honor making him question the move.
"Let him," Kendo said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Monoma is playing a game of class warfare. I am here to win the Sports Festival."
"The harshest winds only make the strongest trees," Shiozaki added, her voice soft and strangely calming. "You stand against the wind, but you need roots to hold you fast. We can be those roots for you."
Across the field, Todoroki's powerhouse team was nearly complete. He approached his final choice: Denki Kaminari.
"Kaminari," Todoroki said, his tone flat. "Your Quirk can neutralize multiple opponents at once. Your role will be area denial, to prevent mobs from overwhelming us. It is the most logical use of your abilities. Join my team."
Kaminari scratched the back of his neck, a nervous grin on his face. "Heh. Man, Todoroki, that's... a super solid offer. Like, final boss level solid. You guys are gonna crush it for sure." He looked at the team: Todoroki, the untouchable prince; Iida, the picture of perfect discipline; Yaoyorozu, the elegant genius. They were a well-oiled machine. A perfect, predictable, and utterly serious machine.
Then, his eyes drifted over to Lee. He saw the incredible sight of the two girls from the rival class standing with him, forming an impossible, rebellious alliance. He remembered Lee's ridiculous but passionate speech in the waiting room. He remembered the raw, terrifying blue fire at the USJ. He remembered the respectful way Lee spoke to him after their match. That wasn't a machine. That was where the real story was.
Kaminari's grin became genuine. "You know what? Thanks for the offer, Todoroki. But, uh... I think I wanna be on the team that's gonna have to pull off a miracle. Seems like way more fun."
He turned his back on a visibly surprised Todoroki and jogged across the field, waving. "HEY, BUDDY!" he shouted towards Lee. "You got room for one more? No way I'm letting my partner face this whole thing alone!"
The sight of Kaminari—a powerful and popular member of their own class—publicly rejecting Todoroki to join him, was the final, shocking piece of the puzzle. Lee looked at the smiling, loyal face of his friend, and the last of the cold loneliness in his chest vanished, replaced by a blazing warmth.
The timer on the screen showed less than a minute remaining. Lee looked at the bizarre and magnificent team that had gathered around him. Itsuka Kendo, the powerful, strategic fist of Class 1-B. Ibara Shiozaki, the serene, impenetrable shield of thorns. And Denki Kaminari, the electric, fiercely loyal friend who had chosen camaraderie over a guaranteed victory.
"You are the rider, obviously," Kendo said, already taking charge. "I'll take the front. Shiozaki, you and Kaminari take the sides. Shiozaki, your vines are our main defense. Kaminari, you're our deterrent. Anyone who gets too close gets a shock."
It was a strange, impossible, and absolutely formidable team. The final buzzer sounded, its cry echoing across the stadium, signaling the end of the negotiations. The teams were set.
Lee looked at the faces of his new alliance—two rivals who had defied their class, and one friend who had defied a prodigy, all to stand with him. He smiled. A true, powerful smile, that of a warrior who had finally found his shield, his spear, and his thunder. He was no longer the forsaken. He was the leader of an alliance. And he was ready for the war to begin.
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