The obstacle course was right behind a narrow tunnel at the far end of the stadium, a long shadowed passage that seemed too small to accommodate the restless mass of students gathered upon the field.
They stood in a wide cluster, muscles tensed, eyes fixed forward.
Midnight raised her arm.
"Begin!"
At once, the field erupted into motion. Students from every class surged forward in a chaotic wave, sprinting toward the tunnel as though fearing it might vanish if they did not reach it first. Shoulders collided. Elbows jabbed. Determination dissolved quickly into desperation as they attempted to funnel themselves into a space far too narrow for their numbers.
Amidst this frantic rush, Junsei did not move.
He remained where he stood, observing the swarm of bodies disappear into the tunnel's darkness.
Around him, another group had also remained behind, the students of the Business Department. Unlike the hero-course hopefuls, they were not driven by the need to prove strength.
Junsei could hear them speaking among themselves.
"We'll be the true winners of this competition," one declared confidently.
"It's all about sales," another replied. "Brand value. Recognition."
"We should move. Timing matters."
Some of them turned and left through the same entrance by which they had entered the stadium, already discussing marketing angles and sponsorship opportunities. Others remained, murmuring calculations under their breath, as though the race were a financial equation rather than a physical challenge.
Junsei stared at them for several seconds, his expression unchanged.
Then, without haste, he began to walk.
He moved at his own pace toward the tunnel. Though nearly half a minute had passed since the start signal, the congestion within the narrow passage ensured that the race was far from settled. As he approached, he could still see students shoving and pressing against one another, all striving to be the first to emerge from the other side.
Junsei did not hurry.
By the time he reached the tunnel's entrance, the main cluster had finally spilled out beyond it. He stepped inside, the dim light swallowing him briefly, and continued forward.
Seconds later, he exited.
The scene beyond was considerably less orderly.
Several students stood frozen in place, encased from the waist down or in some cases entirely in solid ice. The ground itself had been transformed into a slick sheet of ice.
Junsei walked past the immobilized students without comment. When his foot met the frozen surface, he did not stumble. Instead, he allowed himself to glide, skidding smoothly across the ice in a relaxed manner, his face as expressionless as ever.
In the distance, towering robots advanced, massive mechanical figures swinging heavy limbs toward the competitors. Students darted and leapt, unleashing their quirks in bursts of force and skill. Metal groaned. Sparks flew. One by one, the machines fell.
By the time Junsei reached the area, several students were already collapsed upon the ground, breathing heavily or nursing minor injuries. The last of the robots lay dismantled in smoking heaps.
Junsei walked past them.
Two more minutes of unhurried progress brought him to the next obstacle, a canyon separating two banks. Stone pillars rose unevenly from its depths, connected by thick ropes swaying faintly in the wind. The drop below was steep enough to instill hesitation.
A number of students remained at the edge, staring with visible frustration and disappointment. Ahead of them, dozens more attempted to cross, inching carefully along the ropes.
Junsei approached the edge.
The moment he reached it, his eyes glowed faintly.
He bent his knees and leapt.
The distance he cleared was immense. With a single jump he soared across the canyon in a clean arc and landed on the opposite side with steady balance.
A hush rippled through the nearby students who had witnessed it. Shock registered plainly on their faces.
Junsei did not acknowledge them.
He simply continued walking at the same measured pace toward the next section of the course.
——————
Back in the stadium, in the commentator's booth, Present Mic leaned forward eagerly while Eraser Head sat beside him, arms folded.
"Mori Junsei of Class 1-C!" Present Mic announced, his voice booming across the stadium. "His strategy may be unorthodox, but it's proving effective! He avoided the tunnel chaos, Todoroki's ice, and the robot ambush simply by lagging behind and now he's caught up to the advanced group with minimal effort! What a brilliant strategy!"
Eraser Head's gaze remained fixed on the field. "I don't think taking a stroll can be called a strategy. He doesn't seem invested."
Present Mic chuckled. "Considering his track record, I'd say this counts as invested!"
Across the stadium, spectators listened with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. Cameras zoomed in on the quiet boy from Class 1-C who was taking a stroll.
——————
The final stretch of the obstacle course spread before the remaining competitors like a cruel trap, a minefield, wide and deceptively ordinary, its surface pocked with shallow craters and faintly disturbed soil. Small warning signs marked the boundaries.
The nature of the obstacle forced everyone to slow considerably. A careless step meant an explosion powerful enough to hurl a student skyward. Even caution offered no guarantees; several competitors already bore scorch marks upon their uniforms, smoke curling faintly from singed fabric.
Junsei stepped into the minefield without altering his pace.
At a glance, the locations of the mines were apparent to him. The ground's subtle distortions, the faint irregularities in pressure and placement, none were concealed from his sight.
A short distance ahead, one of Momo's classmates was crouched low, digging carefully into the earth. With surprising efficiency, the boy unearthed a mine and added it to a growing collection at his side.
He noticed Junsei's approach.
For two long seconds, the two boys regarded one another in silence, calculation meeting indifference.
Then Junsei continued walking past him.
Barely ten meters in, however, he came upon a more chaotic scene.
Momo stood stiffly in place, struggling as a small figure clung stubbornly to her back like a koala to a tree.
"Mineta!" she hissed through clenched teeth. "Let go of me right now!"
"Never!" came the shrill reply.
Junsei approached them calmly.
Without preamble, he extended a hand, seized Mineta by the neck, and applied just enough pressure to pry him loose from Momo's uniform. The boy's limbs flailed as he was lifted clear.
Momo spun around.
"Junsei! You came!"
"I walked here," Junsei replied evenly.
Mineta squirmed in his grip. "You damned bastard! Why are you interfering? I just wanted to hitch a ride to win!"
"I told you to get lost!" Momo snapped.
"This isn't over! I am reaching the end one way or another!" Mineta shrieked.
Junsei regarded the struggling boy for a moment. Then, with unsettling calm, he extended his free hand toward Mineta's head and began pressing experimentally against the purple spheres clustered there, as though playing with them.
Mineta froze.
"What the hell are you doing, you weird pervert?" he barked, though the bravado rang hollow. "You think I won't fight…"
He looked up.
Two faintly glowing eyes stared back at him.
Whatever remained of Mineta's confidence dissolved instantly.
"I-I'm sorry!" he wailed, tears springing forth. "I won't touch Momo again! I won't raise my voice! Please spare me!"
Momo hesitated. "Junsei, don't hurt him too much."
Mineta turned to her desperately. "Tell him not to hurt me at all!"
Junsei shifted his grip.
In one fluid motion, he lifted Mineta higher, pivoted slightly, and hurled him skyward in a clean, deliberate arc, straight toward the distant finish line.
Momo stared, mouth slightly open, as Mineta's small figure soared impossibly high above the minefield. His scream thinned into a distant echo as he ascended.
Then he began to fall.
Across the course, students halted mid-step, eyes tracking the descending form. Even the audience's murmur faltered.
Mineta plummeted toward the stadium.
A second later, a distant thud echoed.
Though far from the finish line, the sound system carried Midnight's amplified voice across the arena.
"First place goes to Mineta Minoru!"
Momo slowly turned back to Junsei.
"Are you for real? You threw him there?"
"He was going to continue annoying you," Junsei replied. "And he wanted to reach the end line. So I threw him there."
"You could have killed him!" Momo exclaimed. "Maybe he's dying!"
"I made sure he would survive the impact."
Momo paused.
Her mind replayed the image of Junsei pressing against Mineta's quirk, those resilient, sticky spheres that absorbed impact. Realization dawned slowly why he was touching the balls like that. He was judging them.
She exhaled and shook her head.
"I need to reach the end quickly. I've wasted enough time already."
"Okay," Junsei said and his eyes began to glow once more.
In the next instant, she was lifted clean off the ground and hoisted over his shoulder.
"Junsei! What are you doing?!"
"Taking you there."
"Jun…"
A thunderous explosion erupted behind them, shaking the minefield violently.
"What is going on now!!" Momo demanded.
"Your classmate was collecting mines," Junsei replied.
"Wha…"
The rest of her question dissolved into a scream.
The world blurred.
Wind roared in her ears as pressure compressed against her body. The ground, the scenery and the sky merged into streaks of colors.
She shut her eyes tightly.
"JUNSEI!"
Two seconds later, the pressure vanished.
The wind died.
"We are here," Junsei said calmly.
Momo opened her eyes.
Junsei lowered her gently onto solid ground.
They stood inside the stadium, beyond the finish line.
Beside them, Mineta lay sprawled upon the ground, still sniffling weakly.
Silence blanketed the arena.
Thousands of spectators stared.
Then she heard the voices behind her, she turned to look and saw Midoriya, Todoroki and Bakugo arriving in desperation.
At the center of it all, Junsei stood as though nothing of consequence had occurred.