The gazes of the two boys who had grown up together locked in a silent clash.
For once, Midoriya openly displayed hostility toward Bakugo, while Bakugo, equally determined, was eager to prove his superiority. Thus, the training session burst into action.
All Might, seemingly unbothered by their intense scrutiny of one another, commanded, "Villain team, enter first and set up. Five minutes later, the Hero team will infiltrate and begin."
"Yes!"
Leaving behind Midoriya’s spirited reply, Iida and Bakugo headed into the building.
As the two crossed the threshold, All Might offered a final piece of advice, "Iida, Bakugo—remember, get used to thinking like a villain. This is as close to real combat as it gets. Don’t fear injury; go all out. I’ll call a halt if you go too far."
"Yes!"
Bakugo half-listened to Iida’s instructions as his eyes fixed on Midoriya, whose fists trembled alternatively in anticipation.
If truth be told, the training Midoriya had received from the giant suited him far better. There were no guarantees he could always unlock his Quirk, but the rigorous regimen had built him a remarkably resilient physique.
However, leveraging raw physical strength in hand-to-hand combat was the realm of Enhancement or mutant types. Even at the pinnacle of ability, fighters often specialized in one style.
Explosion—a Quirk that demanded a fighting style all its own—required breaking free from what he’d learned from Kirishima.
After gritting his teeth, Bakugo ascended to the top floor with Iida.
"Even in training, being cast as the villain is such a hassle. So, are we just meant to protect this?"
They halted before a massive bomb. Iida gave it a few taps to confirm it was nothing more than a model.
That was when Bakugo’s voice, seething with intensity, broke the silence. "Hey. You saw Midoriya’s Quirk at the exam, didn’t you?"
"Huh? Ah, yes. It was incredible—powerful enough to topple a giant robot in one hit. But why are you so fixated on him?"
Bakugo bared his teeth as he responded, "We’ve known each other since we were kids. Call it a grudge if you will—I was the one who did all the bullying. That was ten years ago. Imagine how you’d feel if that little runt, once insignificant, suddenly grew up and started biting at your throat!"
Iida attempted a reply, but Bakugo wasn’t in the mood to listen. Instead, he stared at his own palm, silently steeling himself to take down Deku.
Outside, Uraraka and Midoriya examined the building’s floor plan. "A layout of the building—I’ll have to memorize this," Uraraka mused. "Unlike Aizawa-sensei’s methods, it seems there aren’t any extra punishments. What a relief. All Might is just as kind in person as he is on TV."
Her cheerful tone shifted when she turned to Midoriya, startled by his trembling form.
"You don’t seem relieved at all!" she chided.
"N-no, it’s just… my opponent is Kacchan, and Iida’s there too. It makes me feel a bit... small," Midoriya admitted, steadying his trembling body.
If Kirishima had known, he’d have given him an earful. Thinking of the giant friend who always believed in him, Midoriya clenched his fist.
Uraraka spoke softly, "You said Bakugo looks down on people, didn’t you?"
"Honestly, it doesn’t feel that way these days. He still seems to despise me, but he’s undeniably impressive—his ambition, confidence, stamina, and Quirk far surpass mine. I hate to admit it, but it’s true."
The shy boy who once blushed whenever she talked to him was nowhere to be seen. In his place stood a young warrior burning with determination.
"Kacchan and I have been trained by Kirishima since we were little. Even when we trained side by side, he was always a step ahead. I worked my hardest, but he was just that much better. Even so, I absolutely refuse to lose now."
Although Midoriya suppressed his desire to push forward—to surpass Bakugo and even Kirishima—the fierce competitive spark in his voice resonated with Uraraka.
"So, that’s what you call a man’s bond?" she teased.
"N-no. Sorry! It really isn’t about you, Uraraka," he stammered.
"It is! We’re a team—a combo! Let’s give it our all!"
Though Midoriya faltered at her kind encouragement, he soon regained his composure and quickly formulated a plan. "Kacchan is likely to charge straight at me, aiming for a one-on-one showdown. Uraraka, you head for the bomb in the meantime."
"Okay."
Midoriya and Uraraka then mentally mapped out several potential scenarios that could unfold inside the building and laid down contingency plans for each. Time was short, but at least they wouldn’t be paralyzed if something unexpected occurred.
Just as they wrapped up their discussion, All Might’s voice thundered through the loudspeaker, "Indoor combat training: A combo versus D combo! Start!"
From the observation room—where he could monitor both the interior and exterior—All Might announced to the children, "Everyone, watch carefully now."
“Midoriya, you’re nothing more than a student here; I’ll be grading you strictly and without favoritism.”
Meanwhile, Midoriya and Uraraka climbed through a second-story window into the building.
Strolling down the unadorned, somber corridor, Midoriya thought, One For All still can’t be fully controlled in terms of output. If I were to unleash it recklessly, anyone but Kirishima or All Might would end up dead. I have no choice but to rely on my current strength—and Uraraka’s zero gravity ability.
With every sense on high alert and his nerves stretched taut, Midoriya pressed on, the rhythmic echo of footsteps serving as his silent soundtrack.
"Remember the lessons learned from close-quarters combat. Figure out your moves!"
Then, just before a right turn, a sudden jolt of intuition struck him. In an instant, he pulled Uraraka into his arms and hurled himself backwards.
His instincts proved true—Bakugo emerged from the side, slamming the spot where Midoriya and Uraraka had stood with a ferocious explosion.
Helping a dazed Uraraka to her feet, Midoriya asked, "That was close. Uraraka, are you alright?"
"Yes! Thanks," she replied.
At that very moment, Bakugo pushed aside the lingering smoke and reappeared.
With a wry smile as he looked down at Midoriya—and with dangerously intense eyes that belied his casual tone—he said, "Hey, Deku. Long time no see. So you’re willing to spar like this, too?"
Midoriya rose steadily and replied, "I figured if it was Kacchan, he’d come straight for a showdown. Besides, I haven’t clashed since I got my Quirk last year—it’s almost been a year."
"Ha. You’ve grown quite a Quirk and taken on a more dignified air, Deku. I hardly recognize the pathetic Deku I used to know. But flashing that defiant look at me crosses the line. Fine—before I bring down that giant, I might as well reestablish the pecking order."
Watching the clash from the observation room, Kirishima pressed a hand against his forehead. That fool Bakugo was acting as if this were simply a one-on-one sparring match.
"Idiot. You’re supposed to take it easy on Midoriya—not go all out..."
Though he could understand Bakugo’s pride, the timing and place were all wrong. Kirishima couldn’t fathom why Bakugo was behaving so recklessly when he’d never encouraged such antics before, muttering under his breath.
"Midoriya dodged that perfectly. Or was it obvious?"
"Of course. I’ve drilled him in this countless times—he can’t fall for such a clumsy ambush," Midoriya replied coolly.
"Did Eijiro actually teach Bakugo to charge in alone like this?"
"No way. You should already know better than to ask," responded another voice.
As Ashido’s teasing question faded with a sigh, the duel between Bakugo and Midoriya reignited.
Adopting the stance Kirishima had taught him, Bakugo thrust his left hand toward Midoriya’s head. The only difference was that, instead of a clenched fist, his hand was open.
With explosions erupting from his palm, Bakugo didn’t need to strike with his knuckles. His attack—a lightning-fast jab that left no time for counter—hurtled toward Midoriya, yet the latter remained unfazed.
This wasn’t their first bout; Midoriya had repeatedly envisioned this moment in his mind. Bakugo’s assaults always began with a jab.
Without hesitation, Midoriya dropped his stance precisely as he had imagined a hundred times before and grabbed Bakugo’s wrist.
Then, turning sharply, he drove his hip into Bakugo.
Shoving his rear forward and yanking the captured arm downward, Midoriya sent Bakugo’s body lifting off the ground.
Before Bakugo could react, he crashed flat on his back with a resounding thud.
"Ghk."
"Kacchan always starts with a jab. How many times do you think we’ve fought? I admired him enough to memorize all his moves. I’m not the weak Deku who used to lose every time anymore. Kacchan, I’m Deku—the one who says ‘Do your best!’"
Numb pain shot through Bakugo’s back, and although he clenched his teeth, it wasn’t the pain that stoked his fury—it was Midoriya’s newfound fighting spirit. For the first time, the timid boy who had once cowered, lost, and smiled meekly was standing his ground with defiance.
It was insolent and infuriating. Bakugo seethed as he realized Midoriya was echoing the very determination of the giant he once idolized.
With a dangerous, crooked smile, Bakugo rose. "Good! That’s far better than shrinking away in fear! Deku! If you think that way, then come at me! Use that body—convince me!"
Their momentum clashed in the narrow corridor, each blow echoing their clashing wills.
In the tense atmosphere, Iida’s voice crackled through Bakugo’s headset, "Hey, Bakugo! Update the situation—what’s happening?"
Bakugo tapped his earpiece and barked, "I’m settling this with Midoriya. I doubt I can spare the round-faced girl, so you handle her."
"What are you talking about all of a sudden? You just rushed out, and now you expect me to handle it? What am I supposed to do?"
"Quiet! I said one of them is mine—one for each of you. Just handle your part!"
"Handle our part? What do you mean by that... Huh? Did the line just cut? What’s with you?"
Watching Bakugo’s rough outburst on the monitor, Kirishima clicked his tongue. "I can’t really hear the words, but I get the gist."
"Same here. I guess we really understand him, Eijiro."
"No, anyone who knows Bakugo would understand this," another voice remarked.
Just as their private chatter threatened to dominate the moment, Sho interjected from the sidelines, "What do you mean? You can actually understand what he’s saying?"
"Yeah. We’ve known him for over ten years, and he’s simple enough that his words in a situation like this are predictable—something like 'come at me' or 'I’ll crush you'."
"Oh, childhood friends? Impressive," Sho murmured with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Ashido quickly corrected, "The only childhood friends here are Eijiro and me. Although, you might say those two could be childhood friends too—they’d probably both deny it."
"I suppose so. I can’t imagine Midoriya doing that, but Bakugo would never," another voice added.
Before they could return to their private banter, Sho grumbled, "It’s so frustrating not being able to hear clearly—I can’t even guess what's going on."
Then All Might interjected, covering his ears, "I communicated with their combo via a secure wireless device. They have that, plus the building’s floor plan, and this capture tape." He lifted the tape for emphasis. "The moment you wrap this around your opponent, it proves you’ve caught them."
"The time limit is fifteen minutes, and you didn’t reveal the core’s location to the Hero team, right?"
"Yes!"
At All Might’s energetic affirmation, Ashido frowned, "That puts the Hero side at a serious disadvantage."
"You heard that from Aizawa-sensei too, didn’t you? Exactly. Two, three—Plus Ultra!"
"Plus Ultra!"
As all the kids raised their hands in unison, chanting, Aoyama called out, "Mademoiselle! Bakugo!"
On the monitor, Bakugo was rapidly advancing on Midoriya.
With a powerful explosion from his right hand, Bakugo vaulted into the air, twisted his body, and delivered a fierce kick toward Midoriya.
Midoriya raised his arm to shield his head, allowing his body to fall with the force rather than resisting.
"Uraraka, go!" he shouted.
Even as his view flipped upside down, Midoriya called out to Uraraka, planted one hand on the ground, and extended the leg he had tucked in.
Bakugo, caught off guard by the unexpected kick, was thrown back.
"Amazing," came a hushed observation.
"And he’s fighting without even using his Quirk," another noted.
Amid the murmurs of the children, All Might mused inwardly, recognizing that Midoriya’s accrued otaku knowledge—meticulously gathered and honed over the years—was finally paying off.
At that moment, Midoriya broke away from Bakugo to devise a strategy for the situation at hand. "Midoriya! Running away? Weren’t you done being a weakling? You promised to prove yourself. Come out here now! Show me you’re on top!"
Bakugo’s rough shout rang out as All Might, silently appraising him, mused, "Bakugo’s pride is strong indeed. To see him diminished after meeting Kirishima—I can’t even imagine what he was like before."
Meanwhile, hiding in a narrow alley, Midoriya’s thoughts raced. Kacchan was completely ignoring Uraraka and targeting me—acting on his own. If this were a scout, Iida, with his superior agility, would have been the better choice. The breakdown in communication between them might even be to my advantage. There’s no way a straight two-on-two head-to-head would work.
Desperation pushed Midoriya to systematically map out the conditions for victory. "If I had gone with Uraraka, things might have unfolded differently. Here, I need to send Uraraka first and join later, creating a two-on-one situation—assuming I can beat Kacchan, of course..."
He doubted himself; his opponent was a man he had sparred with more than a hundred times since childhood—and never once emerged victorious.
Yet, rather than wallow in despair, Midoriya clenched his fist and recalled a conversation with Kirishima. There was a time when, overwhelmed by training, Midoriya had pleaded with Kirishima—who diligently monitored his progress—to allow him a moment’s rest.
It had been around the five-year mark of Kirishima guiding his training.
Back then, Midoriya was utterly exhausted.
Torn by an uncertain future and relentless practice, he had felt defeated.
Gazing into the small screen of his phone, Kirishima’s expression had turned cold as he said, "The training I put you through is essentially like that of a boxer—fighting in the ring."
"What do you mean by that all of a sudden?" Midoriya had pleaded, his face etched with sorrow.
Meeting his eyes directly, Kirishima abandoned his usual warm, brotherly smile. In its place were the steely eyes of a beast ready to push its young off a cliff.
In that frozen moment, Kirishima’s calm voice declared, "Once a boxer steps into the ring, there’s no stopping—until he knocks his opponent down, gets knocked down himself, or the bell rings. He must keep moving, reaching, and striking without pause."
"Mm..."
"And life never rings a bell, Midoriya. You’re destined to be a Hero, aren’t you? A boxer carries only his own life, but a Hero bears the weight of everyone’s. The day you choose to rest might become the thin line—just one centimeter—between a person yearning for salvation and the outstretched hand that can save them. Do you still want to rest?"
Midoriya bit his lip. Truth be told, he did yearn for a break. The ceaseless self-denial in hopes of an elusive rescue was agonizing. Yet, despite it all, he refused to succumb to weakness.
Kirishima, witnessing Midoriya’s inner turmoil, offered a small, understanding smile. "And I do make sure you get enough rest in my own way. Do you know how hard I work to prevent the training from becoming too brutal?"
That memory of kindness brought Midoriya back to the present. Now was the time to fight.
Even if the odds were stacked against him and his confidence wavered, retreat was not an option. Every grueling session of training had been a battle for survival—a means to keep moving forward, for there were people counting on him.
With a final surge of resolve, Midoriya crushed the tension and burden, straightened his back, and strode out of the alley with newfound pride.
It was the moment a boy truly became a man.
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