The waiting area was quieter than the stands, but no less tense. It buzzed with the kind of silent energy that only happens when the weak have fallen, and the strong are about to clash. I leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes locked on the screens showing the next two matchups.
Todoroki vs. Tokoyami.
A storm of fire and shadow.
Tokoyami wasn't a pushover. Not by a long shot. In low light, Dark Shadow turned into a goddamn demon, fast, aggressive, and almost impossible to contain. But Todoroki? He wasn't the same hesitant kid from the start of the festival. Something had shifted.
He was done holding back.
The moment the match started, Todoroki unleashed a tidal wave of ice that turned half the arena into a glacier. Tokoyami responded instantly—Dark Shadow burst from his back with a shriek, slashing at Todoroki with claws of solid black.
But fire—raw, searing fire—exploded outward.
Dark Shadow recoiled with a scream, retreating into Tokoyami's body. For a second, I thought that was it. But Tokoyami grit his teeth and forced the beast forward again. He wasn't giving up.
Respect.
But it wasn't enough.
Todoroki surged forward, ice forming around his feet to propel him like a missile. A wall of flame forced Dark Shadow into retreat again, and then—BAM—Todoroki brought down a glacier the size of a damn truck. Tokoyami flew backward, hitting the boundary hard.
Midnight's voice cracked through the air. "Winner—Shoto Todoroki!"
I smirked.
Finally. He's using both sides.
Tokoyami looked frustrated, but dignified. He bowed slightly to Todoroki before walking off. That was a warrior, through and through.
Then came the real chaos.
Bakugo vs. Iida.
Speed versus violence. Precision versus pure explosion.
Iida took off like a missile the second the match began. His engines roared, and he zipped around the battlefield in bursts of blue light, avoiding Bakugo's initial blasts with mechanical precision.
But Bakugo wasn't panicking. He was calculating.
He lured Iida into a straight path—then dropped low and launched an AP Shot right in front of him. The blast knocked Iida off-balance, and before he could recover, Bakugo was in the air, spinning like a lunatic.
Another explosion detonated against Iida's back. He hit the ground hard, skidding across the dirt.
Midnight raised her hand. "Winner—Katsuki Bakugo!"
Brutal. Efficient. Annoyingly effective.
Bakugo marched off like he owned the place, sneering at the crowd. Iida sat up, coughing, but gave a respectful nod before heading back. Say what you want about him—he had heart.
The lights dimmed for a moment. The air seemed to thrum with expectation.
Midnight's voice rang out, clear and electric. "Now, for the moment you've all been waiting for... the semifinal matchups!"
The screen flickered.
Sasaki Kenjiro vs. Shoto Todoroki
Izuku Midoriya vs. Katsuki Bakugo
A slow grin spread across my face.
Perfect.
Todoroki had finally embraced his fire. Bakugo was foaming at the mouth. And Midoriya?
He had that look in his eyes again. The one that said he was willing to break every bone in his body to win.
This was it.
No more holding back. No more playing around.
This was where legends were made.
(Kenjiro's POV – First Person)
The moment Midnight announced the semifinal matchups, the stadium erupted into chaos.
"Sasaki Kenjiro vs. Shoto Todoroki!"
A grin split my face. Finally.
Across the waiting area, Todoroki stood frozen, his mismatched eyes locked onto the screen like it had personally challenged him. His left side smoldered faintly, flames flickering at his fingertips.
Good. He's not holding back anymore.
Thirty minutes of rest.
Most fighters would've spent it strategizing, pacing, psyching themselves up.
I lounged in my seat, stretching my arms behind my head.
"You look awfully relaxed," Izuku muttered, his fingers twitching like he was already analyzing my fight before his own.
"Why wouldn't I be?" I smirked. "Todoroki's strong, but he's still stuck in his own head. I just have to knock him out of it."
Izuku opened his mouth—probably to launch into one of his signature mumbling sprees—but a sharp voice cut him off.
"Kenjiro."
Todoroki stood at the entrance, his expression unreadable. "A word."
I raised an eyebrow but followed him out into the hall.
The hallway was quiet, the distant roar of the crowd muffled. Todoroki didn't look at me at first, his gaze fixed on the floor.
"You were right," he said finally.
I blinked. "About what?"
"About my Quirk." His left fist clenched, flames licking up his wrist. "It's mine. Not his."
A beat of silence.
Then I laughed. "Took you long enough."
His glare could've frozen hell over. "This isn't a joke."
"Never said it was." I crossed my arms. "But you're still thinking like a kid rebelling against his dad. That's why you'll lose."
Todoroki's flames flared. "I won't."
"Prove it."
Midnight's voice crackled over the intercom.
"SEMIFINAL MATCH ONE: SASAKI KENJIRO VS. SHOTO TODOROKI. TO THE ARENA, PLEASE."
I turned, walking away without another word.
Time to end this.
The arena lights burned down on us like a spotlight. The crowd's roar was deafening, a living thing pulsing through the stadium.
Todoroki and I stood across from each other, Midnight between us, her whip raised.
"Begin!"
Todoroki moved first.
His right foot slammed down, and the world exploded in ice. A glacier surged toward me, jagged and relentless, the air itself freezing in its wake.
I didn't flinch.
"Mochi Gatling."
My fists blurred, mochi hardening into rapid-fire projectiles. Each strike shattered the ice like glass, the glacier crumbling before it could even reach me.
But Todoroki wasn't done.
While I was distracted, his left side ignited.
A wave of fire roared toward me, heat distorting the air. I barely dodged, rolling to the side as the flames licked at my back.
Damn. He's fast.
The crowd gasped.
"TODOROKI'S USING BOTH SIDES!" Present Mic screamed.
Eraserhead's voice cut in. "About time."
Todoroki didn't let up. Ice and fire danced around him, a deadly ballet of extremes. He was adapting—using the ice to limit my movement, the fire to punish any misstep.
Good.
Finally, a challenge.
I dodged another fireblast, skidding to a stop at the arena's edge. Todoroki was panting, sweat dripping down his face, but his eyes were alight with something new.
Determination.
"You're not the only one who's evolved," I said, smirking.
I slammed my palms together, mochi surging between them. The friction built, the air itself vibrating—
Then ignited.
"Mochi Burning."
Fire erupted around my arms, a swirling inferno of heat and mochi. Unlike Todoroki's flames, mine weren't natural—they were mine, born from sheer force and will.
Todoroki's eyes widened.
I lunged.
BOOM.
The impact sent him flying, crashing into the arena wall with a thunderous crack. The flames dissipated, leaving only smoke and silence.
Midnight's whip snapped.
"Winner—Sasaki Kenjiro!"
The crowd exploded.
I walked over to Todoroki, offering a hand.
He took it, his grip firm despite the exhaustion.
"You were right," he muttered. "I still have a long way to go."
I grinned. "Yeah. But you're getting there."