Izuku's suit was a work of art.
Not something slapped together overnight, nor a flashy costume designed to impress crowds—but a product of countless sleepless nights, sketches scattered across his desk, fabric samples tested and discarded, and quiet conversations with Inko that stretched far past midnight.
Every detail had been intentional.
The suit itself was a sleek, form-fitting black combat bodysuit, hugging his frame without restricting movement. It wasn't glossy or reflective—matte black, built to absorb light rather than draw attention.
Tracing across the suit were neon-green lines, thin but vivid, running like flowing energy circuits along his arms, legs, and torso.
They didn't glow aggressively—just enough to give the impression of restrained power, like something coiled and ready beneath the surface.
At the center of his chest sat a bright green circular emblem—clean, symmetrical, unmistakable. It looked like a core, the origin point from which the glowing lines radiated outward, reinforcing the idea that everything about the suit—and Izuku himself—was focused, controlled, and unified.
His mask was minimalist: a green eye-mask that framed his eyes sharply without hiding his face.
The lenses glowed faintly, giving him an alert, vigilant presence that made it hard to tell exactly where he was looking—only that he was looking.
Reinforced gloves protected his hands, knuckles subtly plated for impact without appearing bulky. Lightweight armor panels were placed along his forearms, shoulders, and shins—just enough to absorb blows while keeping his speed and agility untouched.
Everything had a purpose.
As Izuku stepped out onto Ground Beta, the open air brushing against his suit, he rolled his shoulders once, testing the fit. Perfect.
'I know I'm clean,' he thought calmly.
A few heads turned.
"Yo," Kirishima said with a wide grin, giving him an approving nod. "Looking clean, Izuku."
Izuku smiled back, relaxed and confident. "Thanks."
He stood there among heroes-in-training, green lines faintly glowing against black fabric, looking less like a student…
And more like someone who belonged on the battlefield already.
All Might clapped his massive hands together, the thunderous sound echoing across Ground Beta and silencing the remaining chatter instantly.
"Alright! Now that we are ALL here—let's begin!"
He turned toward the class, cape billowing slightly in the open air as the artificial cityscape loomed behind him. Concrete buildings rose like a miniature urban battlefield, windows dark, corridors twisting inward like traps waiting to be sprung.
"Today's training will be a battle exercise," All Might announced. "One designed to simulate a real-life combat scenario!"
A few students straightened unconsciously.
"But unlike regular combat training," he continued, raising a finger, "this isn't just about fighting. This is about strategy, teamwork, and quick thinking under pressure."
His gaze swept over them, lingering just long enough to make several students swallow.
"You will be divided into two teams—Heroes and Villains."
With a dramatic sweep of his arm, he gestured toward the buildings.
"The Villains will be guarding a 'nuclear weapon'—a symbolic bomb hidden inside one of these structures. The Heroes' objective is to either secure the bomb or capture the Villains before time runs out."
A few murmurs rippled through the group.
"The Villains," All Might continued, voice firm, "win if they successfully defend the bomb until the timer expires—or if they capture the Heroes."
"Capture?" Ochaco asked, tilting her head.
"Exactly," All Might nodded. "Both sides will be equipped with capture tape. If you are restrained securely, you're considered incapacitated and removed from the exercise."
He clenched a fist.
"That means every move you make must be decisive. You won't have the luxury of trial and error. Waste time—or energy—and it will cost you."
Momo raised her hand, composed as ever. "What about property damage, sir?"
"Excellent question!" All Might said, flashing a thumbs-up. "Since this is a controlled training environment, you are permitted to damage the buildings—to a point."
His tone sharpened.
"However, reckless destruction is not encouraged. In real combat, excessive damage can endanger civilians, limit your own movement, or even backfire. Power without control is a liability."
Several students glanced at Bakugo.
Iida snapped to attention, hand raised straight as a blade. "What is the time limit?"
"Ten minutes," All Might answered without hesitation. "The moment the exercise begins, the countdown starts. If neither side achieves victory within that window…"
He smiled.
"The Villains automatically win."
A ripple of tension passed through the class.
"And to ensure fairness," All Might added, tapping a small device on his wrist, "I will be monitoring your movements via security cameras placed throughout the building."
He stepped forward, his shadow stretching long across the concrete.
"Remember this," he said, voice booming with authority. "This exercise is not about who hits hardest."
He pointed to his temple.
"It's about reading your opponent. Anticipating their next move. Trusting your partner—and making decisions under pressure."
His grin widened, eyes sharp with intensity.
"The strongest power is meaningless without a strong mind to guide it!"
Behind him, a large digital board lit up, displaying brackets and names already queued.
"Now then," All Might said, turning back toward the class.
"Let's draw lots for the teams!"
The class erupted instantly.
Some students leaned forward with wide grins, adrenaline already kicking in. Others swallowed hard, nerves tightening in their stomachs as they realized this wasn't just a game—it was their first real test against classmates who could actually hurt them.
The large monitor flickered.
Then the match-up appeared.
Team A (Heroes): Izuku Midoriya & Ochaco Uraraka
Team D (Villains): Katsuki Bakugo & Tenya Iida
A sharp hush fell over the group.
Then—
"Tch… finally," Katsuki muttered, his grin stretching wide and dangerous as sparks snapped along his fingers. "I get to blow that smug look right off your face, Deku."
His eyes locked onto Izuku like a predator finally unleashed.
Izuku didn't react.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't glare back.
He simply turned his head toward Ochaco and gave her a casual wink.
That was it.
Ochaco's face went bright red instantly. She squeaked softly and looked away, hands fidgeting with the hem of her gloves as she tried—and failed—to calm her racing heart.
Bakugo's grin twitched.
Then cracked.
'He… ignored me?' Katsuki's thoughts burned hotter than his explosions. 'You think you're better than me?!'
Sparks crackled violently from his palms.
'Screw the Sports Festival! I'll you today!.'
The air around him felt like it might ignite.
All Might moved immediately.
"Villains—control yourselves!" he barked, stepping in with authority before Bakugo could do something stupid. "Heroes to the strategy room! Villains to the building!"
He raised a hand.
"Five minutes of prep time! Use it wisely!"
The class split apart.
Katsuki stormed off toward the building entrance, boots slamming against the concrete. Iida followed close behind, posture rigid, jaw set—but eyes sharp. Unlike Bakugo, he was already thinking several steps ahead.
Meanwhile, Izuku and Ochaco headed toward the strategy room.
As they walked, Ochaco glanced up at him nervously. "Um… Izuku? Bakugo looks really angry."
Izuku shrugged lightly, hands resting behind his head. "He usually does."
That somehow made her relax—just a little.
[Heroes' Strategy Room]
The door slid shut behind them with a soft hiss, sealing off the noise of the outside world.
In front of them, a massive holographic display flickered to life, projecting the interior of the training building in crisp detail. Narrow hallways branched into wider corridors. Stairwells spiraled upward and downward. Rooms of varying sizes dotted the structure—some dead ends, others perfect ambush points.
Choke points.
Blind corners.
Escape routes.
A battlefield designed to punish hesitation.
Izuku's eyes narrowed—not with excitement, but with pure focus. His mind was already mapping paths, calculating angles, predicting movement.
Ochaco turned toward him, fingers gripping the straps of her gloves.
"So… do you have a plan?" she asked honestly. "Just so you know—I've never actually used my Quirk in a real fight before."
Izuku leaned back in his chair, arms crossing loosely. A small, confident smirk played at his lips.
"Yeah. I do."
This wasn't something he needed to improvise.
He'd already played this scenario out a dozen times—long before he ever stepped into U.A. Long before he even stepped into this world.
"Katsuki's going to come straight for me," Izuku said calmly. "He literally can't help himself. You won't have to fight him."
Ochaco blinked. "You're… sure?"
"Positive," he replied without hesitation. "As for Iida—he's disciplined. He'll stay near the bomb. But he's also rigid. Predictable."
He stood and walked closer to the display, pointing at one of the curved corridors.
"You bait him. He's fast, yeah—but from what I've seen, he struggles with sharp turns at top speed. When he's right on your heels, you cut a corner and tap him with your Quirk."
Her eyes widened as she caught on.
"He'll keep moving forward," Izuku continued, voice steady. "But without gravity. Momentum carries him straight out of position. One good launch, and he's effectively removed from the fight."
Uraraka stared at the map… then at Izuku.
"That's… actually a really good plan," she said, awe slipping into her voice.
Then her expression faltered slightly.
"But…" she admitted, lowering her voice, "when I use my Quirk on really big things—or for too long—I get sick. What if I can't hold on long enough?"
Izuku turned to face her fully.
He leaned forward slightly, gaze firm but encouraging.
"Then today's the day you push through it," he said simply.
She looked up at him.
"Every test here is meant to push our limits. And I think it's time you break yours, Ochaco."
For a moment, she was quiet.
Then the hesitation melted away.
She straightened, shoulders squaring, determination lighting her eyes.
"Thanks, Izu," she said brightly. "I'll try my best!"
Izuku smiled. "Good. Then let's make this quick."
He stood just as—
"Alright! Time's up!" All Might's booming voice echoed through the speakers. "Heroes—move into the building!"
The doors ahead slid open.
They stepped inside together.
The interior was dim, shadows stretching along concrete walls. The air was still—too still. Every footstep echoed sharply, amplifying the silence.
Somewhere above them, villains waited.
BEEP!
The timer started. Ten minutes. And the battle had begun.
TO BE CONTINUED