(Kenjiro's POV – First Person)
The arena lights blazed down like twin suns, turning the ring into a stage—and us into the show.
The crowd's roar surged in waves, electric and alive. I could feel it in my bones, in my blood. The whole world watching, waiting to see what we were made of.
Across from me, Mina Ashido bounced lightly on her heels, pink curls damp with sweat, but her eyes still sharp. Her usual grin wobbled slightly.
"Nervous?" I called out, rotating my shoulders until they popped.
She blew out a breath, wiping her palms on her gym uniform. "Pfft, no! I'm totally gonna—okay, yeah, I'm nervous. You're a monster, Kenjiro."
I smirked. "Flattery won't save you."
Midnight raised her whip, eyes gleaming.
CRACK.
"BEGIN!"
Mina moved like a bullet.
Her arms snapped forward, and pink acid exploded from her hands in a wide, arcing spray. She wasn't aiming directly at me—smart. She was covering the field, painting escape routes with acid to cut off my angles.
But she forgot one thing.
I didn't need angles.
"Mochi Boost."
My feet slapped down on a disc of hardened mochi I'd prepped beneath me, and with a pulse of my quirk, it fired like a compressed spring, launching me high over the acid like a skipping stone.
Mina's eyes went wide. "You've gotta be—!"
I landed hard, skidding just behind her.
She twisted, firing a reaction shot straight for my face.
Too slow.
My mochi shield formed mid-air, catching the acid like rain on a tarp. It sizzled, but I didn't let it linger. With a flick, I slung the goop to the side and lunged.
Mina backpedaled, her foot hitting the edge of the ring. Her balance wavered—and I pressed.
I faked left.
She bit.
Then I was in her blind spot.
"Surprise."
I snatched her by the waist and heaved.
"Air time."
She flailed mid-air, twisting like a cat. I watched as her feet skimmed just past the line—and landed out of bounds with a thud and a puff of dust.
Silence.
Then—
"SASAKI KENJIRO WINS BY RING OUT!" Midnight's voice cracked through the mic. She sounded almost disappointed it ended so fast.
I walked over to the edge, held out a hand. "Nice try."
Mina groaned, taking it as I pulled her up. "Ugh. That was so embarrassing."
"Nah," I said. "You lasted two seconds longer than most would've."
She narrowed her eyes. "Wow. Such praise. I feel so honored."
"You should."
She snorted. "You're the worst."
I just grinned.
Back in the competitor's area, I sank into the bench as Izuku and Shinso stepped into the ring.
This was the one I was waiting for.
Shinso looked like he hadn't slept in a week. His eyes had that quiet, dangerous kind of focus. The kind you didn't train—you earned.
Midoriya was muttering nonstop. Finger twitches, head tilts, that endless thinking loop of his spiraling into overdrive.
This wasn't just any match.
It was a clash of two people the system had tried to toss aside.
Midnight's whip cracked.
"BEGIN!"
Shinso didn't move.
Didn't need to.
"Hey, Midoriya," he called out, voice casual. "You really think Ojiro would've withdrawn if he knew you were the reason he got brainwashed?"
Midoriya stiffened.
"Wha—that's not—!"
His body froze mid-sentence.
Eyes glazed.
Snap.
The crowd gasped.
"AND JUST LIKE THAT, MIDORIYA'S UNDER SHINSO'S CONTROL!" Present Mic yelled, practically vibrating with excitement.
Eraserhead's voice came through the monitor, low and annoyed. "This is why the entrance exam's flawed. Shinso's quirk? It's made for field work. Robots don't care if you're a genius."
Shinso walked toward Midoriya, voice cool. "Walk out of bounds."
Midoriya's foot lifted—slowly.
Then paused.
His body shook.
Veins bulged along his neck, his teeth grinding so hard I thought he might crack a molar.
Then—
"10%."
Green lightning exploded across his frame.
The mental fog shattered like glass.
Midoriya gasped, his pupils focusing again. "I can't—lose here!"
He blitzed.
In a blink, Shinso's expression went from smug to stunned.
The next moment, Midoriya slammed into him shoulder-first, sending the taller boy sprawling backwards in a mess of limbs and surprise.
Shinso tumbled out of bounds, landing hard on his side.
Dead silence.
Then the crowd erupted.
"IZUKU MIDORIYA WINS!"
The entire stadium shook with noise.
Midoriya stood in the ring, breathing hard, sweat dripping off his chin. Not triumphant. Just... relieved.
Shinso sat where he fell, staring at his hands like they'd betrayed him.
My grin faded a bit.
That match?
It wasn't just a win or loss.
That was two people fighting everything stacked against them. Not just their opponent—but the system. Expectations. Labels.
Shinso deserved better.
He still would be.
I leaned back, arms crossed.
Now things were getting serious.
The crowd didn't know it yet, but they'd just seen the opening act. The warm-up.
The real fights?
Were coming.
And I'd make damn sure mine was unforgettable.