Whenever I saw someone who couldn’t properly control their own abilities, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret.
Especially if they hadn’t properly honed their combat skills.
That was exactly how Kirishima felt as he watched Tetsutetsu charge at him with everything he had.
"You bastard! Fight me fair and square!"
"I am fighting fair and square," replied Tetsutetsu.
With a fluid step, Kirishima sidestepped Tetsutetsu’s latest attack and responded in an even, almost indifferent tone.
At this level, he could dodge with his eyes closed.
"Dodging isn’t cowardly. Besides, I’m keeping pace with you just by instinct. How much fairer do you want me to be?"
"You bastard, are you mocking me?"
In an instant, Tetsutetsu froze in place.
Then, with a frustrated grimace, he spat out, "If you’re going to mock me, say it to my face."
Kirishima had half-expected that reaction, but when Tetsutetsu actually responded like that, he nearly burst into laughter.
Still, laughing now would have come off as pure mockery, so he restrained himself and replied instead.
"Hm? No. Absolutely not. Didn’t I say earlier? I quite like you."
"Then fight properly! Stop dodging!"
"For starters, dodging is fighting properly. I’d appreciate not having to repeat myself."
"Bullshit! Sure, dodging is one way to fight, but you’ve had countless chances to hit me and you did nothing! And now you claim you’re fighting fair? Do you look down on me just because you’re stronger?"
Kirishima scratched his chin as he observed Tetsutetsu’s face contort with anger.
He had intended to teach him by letting him learn through his own body—the sudden lecture might have only filled him with resentment—but it seemed to have backfired, only fueling Tetsutetsu’s anger even more.
Looking down, Kirishima spoke quietly, "If my sincerity gets through, that’s fine. If not, there’s nothing I can do."
"I do mean it when I say I like you. But honestly, I can’t help feeling sorry for you," he added.
"What?"
Even as Tetsutetsu’s expression darkened further, Kirishima continued, "Unless you were just chasing me around like an angry boar, you should be able to sense it. I’ve been moving at your level all along. And yet, you still couldn’t land a hit. Isn’t that odd?"
At those words, Tetsutetsu’s eyes widened with a fierce, unfamiliar intensity.
In a rough, cracked voice he retorted, "Hah. Being pitied by your enemy is disgraceful. But if a weakling wants to bite back at the strong, he’s got to do something. Yeah. It’s strange—I just don’t get it."
"There’s no need to overcomplicate things," Kirishima explained. "You know the reason, even if you refuse to accept it. It’s simply a matter of levels—the difference between the skill a warrior accumulates and the weight of history."
After finishing his thought, Kirishima strode purposefully toward Tetsutetsu.
Reacting on instinct, Tetsutetsu charged to meet him.
It was the same familiar pattern as before, but this time Kirishima did not attempt to evade.
Usually, he preferred to bait an attack or a charge, then circle around to strike at a vulnerable spot.
But now, with the mindset of an instructor, he was determined to show this kid the true value and meaning of martial arts.
Locking eyes with Tetsutetsu’s silver gaze, he met the attack head-on.
A sharp metallic crack rang out as Tetsutetsu clutched his stomach and staggered back a few steps.
"Ghk."
"You see? The attack I dodged earlier was as fleeting as the wind, but this one hit as solid as a mountain. You feel that, don’t you?"
Though the exchange was brief, the disparity between them was now unmistakable.
Assuming a rhythmic karate stance, Kirishima pressed forward. With his dominant hand he brushed aside Tetsutetsu’s extended forearm, while his other hand plunged straight into the exposed midsection.
He had matched his power to Tetsutetsu’s level, so his strike didn’t fully pierce through—but it dug in deep enough.
Unless Tetsutetsu activated his Quirk and transformed his body into steel, that blow would have been devastating.
With intensity blazing in his eyes, Kirishima declared, "They say that’s a defensive move, but I can’t stand it. Why? Because even mountains can move."
"You bastard!"
Tetsutetsu charged again without relenting, his head jerking violently from the impact.
Just as his charge timed perfectly with an opening, Kirishima’s rapid strikes hammered him over and over.
Against such lightning-fast, barely-perceivable attacks, all Tetsutetsu could do was cover his face and retreat.
"As swift as lightning, as fierce as fire. How’s that? Easy enough to grasp, isn’t it?"
When another fist streaked toward his head, Tetsutetsu ducked, and sparks flew from Kirishima’s leg.
A quick low kick followed the jab.
It was a classic—and consistently effective—combination.
"When you hide, it’s like being shrouded in clouds; here, I hid with my hands. I’d explain the forest too, but that’s too convoluted in the moment. Do you understand? I believe that the strategy for commanding armies and the art of moving one’s own body aren’t entirely different, and they share common ground. After all, people in this country tend to see strategy and martial arts as one and the same."
Once Tetsutetsu finally managed to steady himself after nearly collapsing from the kick, Kirishima stood a short distance away, watching him.
"You’re slow, but you’re strong. Yet you’re not capitalizing on that strength at all. If you and I were handling the same level of power, it’s only natural that you’d lose. It’s inevitable that the untrained can’t beat the trained."
"The trained?"
"Yes. What do you believe martial arts are?"
"Just… techniques for fighting, aren’t they?"
"Exactly! Fighting techniques, passed down for hundreds, even thousands, of years."
"What?"
Spreading his arms wide at a bewildered Tetsutetsu, Kirishima continued, "Martial arts are a legacy of power handed from one generation to the next, each refining it further. They are both a means to protect oneself and a method to vanquish one’s foes—a living history of combat. Do you really think random flailing can surpass a fortress built over millennia?"
There was an almost palpable intensity and passion in his expression and tone.
"Humanity has acquired the ability to surpass that legacy—through Quirks. A child who just awakens their Quirk can defeat a warrior who has trained all their life. But that doesn’t diminish the worth of martial arts. No matter how formidable a Quirk is, someone who has truly learned martial arts will always be stronger than someone who hasn’t. Yet, people focus solely on Quirks. You’re no different, are you? You talk about being stronger, tougher, more resilient."
"Ugh..."
Tetsutetsu had no retort.
Instead of spending time perfecting his striking technique, he’d rather consume more iron and train amidst fire.
The result was today’s crushing defeat.
Though the final verdict was yet to be announced, he could feel it deep in his bones: he simply couldn’t overcome the giant before him.
"Especially for someone like you, learning martial arts would make you unimaginably stronger. Hm. That sounded a bit like a sales pitch just now. If you don’t like it, I won’t force you. But mark my words—I felt sorry for you, knowing you were squandering such a great Quirk, and that’s why I resorted to this foolish act."
"So what are you getting at?"
Kirishima smiled at the noticeably softened expression on Tetsutetsu’s face and added, "If you want to learn, hit me up later. I’m already tutoring kids in my class after school, so adding one more wouldn’t hurt. Or maybe you could learn from that orange-haired girl in your class—she does martial arts, doesn’t she?"
Tetsutetsu didn’t exactly take pleasure in Kirishima’s words.
His pride was on the line, after all.
How could he possibly be pleased hearing that a man who had fought through fierce competition to get into U.A. was offering lessons, as if he were pitiful?
Yet, at the same time, it wasn’t entirely unpalatable; at the very least, he acknowledged the giant before him.
That man had every right to say such things.
It wasn’t just about raw strength.
In terms of character, Kirishima was the kind of person who could stand on his own.
Unwavering, unyielding, and never one to kneel.
If you were to personify perseverance, defiance, and an indomitable will, wouldn’t that be him?
Before he knew it, Tetsutetsu burst out laughing.
Somewhere in his mind, he admitted that if a guy like Kirishima was desperate enough to team up with him, perhaps he was pretty remarkable after all—even if the timing was all wrong.
Suppressing his satisfaction and baring his sharp teeth, Tetsutetsu said, "We’ll talk about that later. I’ll admit it—I can’t beat you right now. But I’m not about to lower my tail like some pathetic coward. Bring your best, and I’ll do the same!"
With that, Tetsutetsu surged toward Kirishima once more.
Glistening with silver in the light, Kirishima murmured quietly, "This is why I like you. All right, let’s finish this like true warriors."
Once again, Kirishima’s lightning-fast one–two combination flew toward Tetsutetsu’s head.
This time, however, it was blocked by arms raised high in defense.
In that split second, Kirishima’s leg moved with deadly precision.
His front leg became a steadfast pillar, gripping the earth without falter.
As his hips propelled forward, they rotated violently.
His shin sliced through the air in a razor-sharp diagonal as it drove upward.
Recalling his earlier misstep, Tetsutetsu instinctively dropped his gaze.
At that moment, a fierce metallic crack reverberated.
As he fell, his vision darkened and he could only see Kirishima’s leg descending upon him.
'A high kick... I was completely at the mercy of his technique from start to finish.'
"Ooooh! And with that, the winner of the seventh match is decided! Was even steel not enough? The winner is Kirishima Eijiro!"
'He toyed with him completely from beginning to end.'
Aizawa dismissed Present Mic’s bombastic commentary as he mentally replayed Kirishima’s performance.
Of course, he had expected Kirishima to defeat Tetsutetsu, but the sensation was altogether different.
Typically, on first witnessing Kirishima in battle, people are struck by the ferocity of his Demon Form and then by his almost superhuman physical ability.
Because of that, his technical prowess often goes unnoticed.
But Aizawa, himself a master of combat technique, did not overlook it.
In a way, what made Kirishima truly formidable wasn’t just the offense or defense provided by his Quirk—it was his mastery of the art of fighting.
Aizawa’s own style involved neutralizing an opponent’s Quirk before engaging them in hand-to-hand combat.
Once his Erasure was active, he could defeat even those with transformation or activation Quirks.
Yet even if Kirishima’s Quirk were somehow nullified, Aizawa wasn’t convinced he could claim victory.
A towering 2-meter physique combined with master-level technique made for a fearsome combination.
The match earlier had demonstrated just how deadly that synergy could be.
Despite matching Tetsutetsu blow for blow, not a single one of his attacks even grazed Kirishima.
Had Kirishima been born without a Quirk, he’d likely still be stronger than most heroes.
"Sportsmanship, huh! Look at Kirishima personally helping the fallen Tetsutetsu onto the transport robot!"
As always, the stadium erupted in thunderous cheers.
From the stands, the heroes offered their own assessments.
"Hm. That steel kid seems pretty fired up. He’d definitely boost morale at an agency."
"For morale, wouldn’t the far stronger Kirishima be the better choice? Strong people have a totem-like effect by mere presence."
"Honestly, he’s just too much for me… You saw how he punched a hole in the sky, didn’t you?"
"You’re showing a lack of character. Strength alone isn’t the measure of a true hero."
"What did you say? And you’re in no position to lecture me about character!"
The top dog had won as expected, yet the crowd’s reaction was anything but negative.
Those watching on screen shared the same sentiment.
-(LIVE) U.A. Tournament Round of 16, Match 7: Kirishima Eijiro vs. Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu
ㄴ I thought Kirishima would end it in a single second.
ㄴ Same here.
ㄴ Was he going easy on Tetsutetsu? If he had just pulverized him, the tournament wouldn’t have been nearly as interesting.
ㄴ That would’ve annoyed me even more.
ㄴ Only Kirishima knows why he held back. But seeing how the two are interacting, it seems outsiders needn’t say a word.
ㄴ But isn’t that match-fixing?
ㄴ What match-fixing? ㅡㅡ Don’t go spouting scary stuff so casually.
ㄴ Some people just want to see the match end in a second, Kirishima crowned as the first-year champion, and everyone lives happily ever after. What a load of nonsense, right?
- Wow. I always thought he was insanely fast and incredibly strong, but he really just lands his hits perfectly. I’m seriously impressed.
ㄴ Ugh, I can’t stand it when people overdo the "insanely" talk.
ㄴ Isn’t Tetsutetsu just weak? Kirishima was hitting him way too easily.
ㄴ Does it look like it’s easy to both dodge and hit to you? Get your eyes checked.
ㄴ Maybe I don’t know, but you don’t have to be such a jerk about it.
Oblivious to the tranquil world of zeros and ones, Kirishima calmly retraced his steps through the corridor he had entered.
He had always been large, but the back he presented as the undisputed winner now seemed even more imposing.
Once he reached the waiting area, he promptly returned to the stands.
Not injured or exhausted, he had no need for rest—and after a match where he relentlessly schooled Tetsutetsu, there was nothing left to analyze.
His friends welcomed him back in no time.
"Oh! Kirishima-kun! That was an amazing match. You completely dominated him!"
"Ribbit. That was awesome."
Kirishima swept his disheveled hair back and replied, "It was nothing. Next up are Bakugo and Uraraka, right?"
"Yeah. In a way, it’s the most nerve-wracking match."
"I, uh… don’t really feel like watching."
Reassuring the anxious girls, Kirishima said, "Don’t worry—Bakugo probably won’t go overboard. At most, a bone or two might break."
"Eek. That’s too much," one replied.
"Hm. You shouldn’t think like that. Anyone stepping up there has accepted that risk. Nobody dies or suffers permanent injury. Besides, Recovery Girl is on standby. Compared to most fights, this is a very safe chance to go all out."
"Kirishima-kun is secretly pretty Spartan..."
"I’m not Spartan—you're just too soft. We’re going to be heroes, which means we must be prepared to battle villains. Sure, some of us might end up in rescue roles, but generally, we won’t be doing jobs that don’t require combat skills. And when that time comes, no one will pay any mind to your tears and complaints. While we’re still students, you need to get used to fighting in a controlled environment. Don’t you think so, Midoriya?"
"Huh? Ah, yeah—I agree with what Kirishima-chan said. And I’m sure Kacchan would agree, too. A match is a match."
Just then, the two stepped onto the arena.
Present Mic’s introduction provided a striking contrast.
"A bit of a celebrity since middle school! Not exactly a picture of wholesomeness! Hero Course Bakugo Katsuki! VS! I’m rooting for this one! Hero Course Uraraka Ochaco!"
Bakugo shoved his hands into his pockets and glowered at Uraraka with smoldering eyes.
The raw thirst for victory in his gaze was so intense that anyone with a weak heart might have bolted on the spot.
"You, the floaty girl. If you’re planning to back down, then get lost—this won’t end with mere pain."
Uraraka said nothing in reply.
Instead, she returned his glare with a determined look.
Though scared and tempted to run, she also yearned to defeat Bakugo and emerge as the undisputed winner.
She thought of her parents’ faces.
There was no room for retreat now—not when her dream was on the line.
Seeing her resolve, Bakugo reluctantly relaxed his clenched fists, a sour expression on his face.
Soon, the match commenced, and Uraraka leapt forward without hesitation.
Bakugo remained unruffled. He swung his right hand, unleashing a sizable explosion.
A massive cloud of smoke erupted, completely obscuring the dash of Uraraka and drawing murmurs from the crowd.
"Whoa, that came straight at her..."
"He doesn’t hold back even against a girl."
"Tch. What nonsense is that?"
Kirishima clicked his tongue.
In battle, what did gender have to do with determination?
There were only two warriors on that field.
Even then, Bakugo sensed a presence through the smoke and instinctively swung his hand once more.
However, his grasp found only Uraraka’s outer coat.
Fooled by an excellent feint, Bakugo discovered Uraraka had maneuvered behind him.
This was the turning point in the melee—a once-in-a-lifetime opening just for her.
In a moment when time itself seemed to pause, their eyes locked in mutual recognition.
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