Chapter 41: The Quiet and the Storm
The stadium was a living, breathing entity, its roar a constant, tidal presence. But for the students of U.A., the hour-long break was a pocket of surreal quiet, a chance to mentally and physically reset before the final, brutal act of the festival. In the corridors, the atmosphere was a complex tapestry of emotions. There was the quiet pride of the victors, the bitter disappointment of the defeated, and the electric, nerve-wracking anticipation of the sixteen finalists who were about to step onto the grandest stage of their young lives.
The final tournament was about to begin.
The crowd, which had been buzzing with predictions and analysis during the break, now fell into a state of hushed excitement. The giant screen above the arena, which had displayed the tournament bracket, now focused on the southern entrance tunnel.
"ALRIGHT, LISTENERS! HAVE YOU HAD YOUR FILL?! HAVE YOU CAUGHT YOUR BREATH?! BECAUSE IT'S TIME TO THROW ALL THAT CALM OUT THE WINDOW!" Present Mic's voice screamed, shaking the stands. "IT'S TIME FOR THE FIRST MATCH OF THE FINAL ROUND! A ONE-ON-ONE, NO-HOLDS-BARRED BATTLE OF HEROIC WILL!"
He drew out the introductions with theatrical flair. First, from the Hero Course, the boy who had overcome every obstacle with tears, sweat, and brilliant flashes of strategic genius: Izuku Midoriya. The crowd's cheer was noticeably warm for him, a wave of affection for the underdog. Then came his opponent.
"AND HIS OPPONENT, A MYSTERIOUS QUALIFIER WHOSE SKILLS ARE A COMPLETE UNKNOWN! HE WAS A LATE ADDITION TO THE POWERFUL TEAM TODOROKI! WHAT CAN HE DO?! FROM THE GENERAL DEPARTMENT, GIVE IT UP FOR MANABU KAGEYAMA!"
A tall, thin boy with dark, deep-set eyes and shaggy black hair walked out onto the stage. He moved with a quiet, almost nervous energy, clearly unaccustomed to the roar of a hundred thousand people. He wore a standard U.A. gym uniform, and his posture was slightly hunched.
The fight that followed was one of the strangest and most deeply anticlimactic battles the festival had ever seen.
The starting bell rang. Midoriya immediately took a cautious defensive stance, his eyes scanning every inch of his opponent, his mind racing. General Department… he qualified with Team Todoroki, which means Todoroki saw some kind of strategic value in him. His Quirk must be non-physical. Is it mental? Environmental? I can't afford to be careless.
Kageyama, opposite him, took a strange, low stance, his hands held up like claws. He squinted, his eyes darting around as if he were having trouble focusing in the bright, afternoon sun.
The two opponents circled each other. A full minute passed. The crowd, which had been roaring with anticipation, began to murmur with confusion. Nothing was happening. It was a silent, awkward standoff.
"What's going on?" someone in the crowd muttered. "Is this a joke?"
Midoriya continued to watch, his analytical mind working furiously. Kageyama wasn't attacking. He was staying in the shadows cast by the stadium walls as much as possible. He kept squinting. And his Quirk registration simply stated: "Enhanced Vision." It was too vague.
Enhanced… how? Midoriya thought. Telescopic? X-Ray? Then why isn't he doing anything? Unless… The pieces suddenly clicked into place in his mind. The way he's squinting… the way he's avoiding the direct sun… his Quirk isn't just enhanced vision. It must be… Night Vision!
It was the only logical explanation. Todoroki, a brilliant strategist, must have chosen him for a scenario that involved darkness or stealth. But here, in a wide-open arena under the blazing sun, his Quirk was not only useless; it was a hindrance. Kageyama was practically blind.
The fight, for all intents and purposes, was already over.
The crowd began to get restless, a few boos echoing in the stands. This was profoundly boring.
Midoriya knew he had to end it. He could have used a Smash, a flashy, crowd-pleasing move. But his fingers were still broken from his encounter with Shinso in the original story, and he knew he had to conserve his strength. He had to win, but he had to win smart.
He charged.
Kageyama, his vision blurred by the bright light, was taken completely by surprise. He let out a yelp and tried to defend himself, but he had no combat training. Midoriya, ducking under a clumsy swing, grabbed him in a hold reminiscent of a professional wrestler. It wasn't elegant. It wasn't flashy. It was pure, practical application of force. With a powerful, determined heave, he pushed the flailing and utterly helpless Kageyama across the ring and unceremoniously dumped him over the boundary line.
Midnight raised her whip. "Kageyama is out of bounds! The winner is Midoriya Izuku!"
The stadium gave a scattered, polite, and deeply unenthusiastic round of applause. Midoriya had won, but it had been the least exciting victory imaginable. He walked off the stage, relieved to have advanced, but frustrated that he had once again failed to show the world the heroic power he so yearned to display.
As the ring was being prepared for the main event, a new, heavier sense of anticipation began to build. The strange first match had only whetted the crowd's appetite for a true clash of titans. The screen lit up with the names of the two combatants for the second match, and a palpable, electric hum swept through the stadium.
"ALRIGHT, FOLKS, WIPE THAT CONFUSING BATTLE FROM YOUR MINDS, BECAUSE WHAT'S COMING NEXT IS A CLASH OF LEGENDS IN THE MAKING!" Present Mic screamed, his voice reaching a fever pitch. "IN THE SOUTH CORNER… HE IS ROYALTY IN THE HERO WORLD! THE SON OF THE NUMBER TWO HERO, ENDEAVOR! A PRODIGY OF ICE WHO DOMINATED HIS OPPONENTS WITH OVERWHELMING POWER AND CHILLING PRECISION! FROM THE HERO COURSE, CLASS 1-A, GIVE IT UP FOR SHOOOOOTO TODOOOOROKI!"
Todoroki walked out of the tunnel, his expression as cold and remote as the glaciers he commanded. He didn't look at the crowd. He didn't acknowledge the roar. He simply walked to his side of the stage, a silent, powerful, and deeply troubled engine of destruction. A fine mist of cold air was already beginning to form around his right foot.
"AND IN THE NORTH CORNER!" Present Mic's voice cracked with pure, unadulterated hype. "HE IS THE STORY OF THE YEAR! THE DARK HORSE! THE GREEN COMET! THE UNDISPUTED CHAMPION OF THE FIRST TWO EVENTS! HE CAME FROM NOWHERE AND PUNCHED HIS WAY INTO OUR HEARTS! HE PROVED TO THE WORLD THAT HARD WORK CAN SHATTER ANY CEILING! THE BOY WHO RUNS ON PURE, UNYIELDING GUTS! FROM CLASS 1-A, MAKE SOME NOISE FOR ROOOOOOCK LEEEEEEEE!"
Lee jogged out of his tunnel, not with a heavy tread, but with a light, energetic bounce in his step. He wore his simple green jumpsuit, his approved "hero costume," which now seemed like a statement of pure confidence. He smiled at the roaring crowd, a wide, genuine, and brilliant smile, and gave them a respectful bow.
The stadium erupted, the cheer for him even louder than the one for the son of Endeavor. They had fallen in love with the underdog, with the passionate boy who fought with nothing but his own two hands.
From every corner of the stadium, powerful gazes were locked on the two boys.
In the stands, Endeavor leaned forward, his flaming beard flickering with intensity. His eyes were fixed solely on his son, a look of grim command on his face. Show them, Shoto, his thoughts were a silent, burning order. Show them the power I have bestowed upon you. Incinerate this Quirkless nobody and prove the purpose for which you were created.
In another section, Sora Aokawa stood, her hands gripping the safety railing before her so tightly her knuckles were white. Mr. Tanaka, beside her, let out a low whistle. "Well, this is it. The big show." Sora didn't reply. She wasn't a sensei anymore. She was a mentor, a guardian, watching her entire life's work, her single, most precious student, step into the fire. Her heart was a frantic drum against her ribs. Be smart, Lee, she prayed. Be strong. Be everything I taught you to be.
In the Class 1-A stands, his teammates watched with bated breath. "This is it," Kirishima muttered. "The ultimate unstoppable force versus the ultimate immovable object."
In the commentary booth, Aizawa leaned forward, his tired eye now wide and focused. "Yamada," he said, his voice a low, serious command. "Be quiet for a moment. This is a match we may never see the like of again."
On the stage, the two combatants faced each other across the expanse of grey concrete. Todoroki stood, cold and silent, a sheet of ice already beginning to creep across the ground from his right foot, lowering the temperature of the air around him. Lee stood opposite him, a gentle breeze ruffling his black hair, his posture relaxed but perfectly balanced, the faint, earnest smile still on his face.
The world held its breath.
"ARE YOU READY?!" Present Mic screamed, his voice the only sound in the universe. "LET THE SECOND MATCH…
BEGIN!!!"