Todoroki was impressive, with flames racing along one half of his body while ice formed along the other.
Kirishima watched him and thought,
"His endurance is clearly superior to that of other fire-based heroes. Balancing everything will be a hassle, though..."
Then Endeavor’s roar echoed through the stadium.
"Shotooo! So you’ve finally accepted me! Excellent! This is the beginning of your true journey! Carry my blood, surpass me, and make my ambition a reality!"
The heat in his beard and around his eyes flared even more fiercely, as if matching his excitement.
"No wonder the kid is so off-kilter. I mean, what is he thinking with all these people watching?"
"Sudden encouragement from Endeavor? What a clueless fool..."
Even as Present Mic mumbled under his breath, Midoriya’s face lit up with excitement.
"Amazing..."
"What are you grinning at? With that injury, in this situation... you’re something else. I don’t know what’s going to happen to you next."
Shoto spoke these words as he pushed his control over both heat and cold to the limit.
Red and blue energy surged from the halves of his body, painting the area around him.
In response, Midoriya unleashed the full power of One For All.
Crackles of electricity danced along his skin as scars—old and new—flashed into view.
Under the mounting pressure from the two combatants, Cementoss and Midnight moved into position.
Yet the clash between Midoriya and Todoroki came even sooner.
Leaping over the rapidly spreading ice, Midoriya charged at Todoroki with a single, explosive step.
But Todoroki remained calm, raising a fiery, blazing hand to unleash an intense burst of heat.
"Midoriya, thank you," he said.
At last, as his palm shot forward, a colossal shockwave erupted.
The force from Midoriya’s fully unleashed punch obliterated the concrete wall that Cementoss had erected, colliding head-on with it.
The tremendous clash of power sent a storm through the stadium.
"What is this!?"
"No way! Hey!"
"What on earth is going on?"
As startled students squinted against the sudden gusts, Kirishima analyzed the power from his seat.
"At this level, it’s about as if I’d gone all out. Our kids really are something else."
When the explosion finally subsided and dust filled the arena, Cementoss raised his hands from the ground and remarked,
"Power isn’t everything, but that was impressive."
"What is this? What on earth are your kids?"
"It was simply the effect of supercooled air heating up and expanding all at once."
"And that caused this kind of storm? Just how hot was it? Damn it, I can’t see a thing!"
Even as Present Mic and Aizawa exchanged remarks, the wind from the blast steadily pushed the dust aside.
When the view finally cleared, Midnight’s eyes caught sight of Midoriya slumped against a wall.
"M-Midoriya! Out of bounds! Todoroki advances to the third round!"
Todoroki, still in a half-torn practice uniform, stared ahead blankly.
As the result of the fierce battle was confirmed, the murmurs of the crowd began.
"He got baited and paid the price."
"He didn’t even have a strategy—just provoked him!"
"Was he trying to beat Todoroki, or was he setting himself up to lose...?"
Ignoring the chatter, Kirishima watched as Midoriya was loaded onto a medical robot and taken to the infirmary. Rising from his seat, he quietly began to walk away.
Moving slowly but determinedly, he headed straight for the infirmary.
Before long, as he reached the door, his keen ears caught Recovery Girl’s voice from within.
"A shattered fracture in the right arm... It won’t heal back to normal. I’ll have to remove the bone fragments from the joint first. The healing process comes after."
Kirishima’s brow twitched.
He had feared as much—this was indeed a permanent injury.
"I can’t stand it—driving a child to ruin over blind admiration, egging him on... You’ve gone too far. Both of you have. You shouldn’t be praising this!"
"You’re absolutely right," came the measured reply.
As Kirishima stepped into the infirmary, both Recovery Girl and All Might turned to face him.
With a steely expression, Kirishima looked directly at All Might and said,
"All Might, was it you who egged him on? Midoriya always gives his all, but he isn’t reckless enough to completely risk an arm in a tournament. Something was off. When he first heard about the Sports Festival, his reaction was lukewarm—but suddenly, he lit up like crazy."
His red eyes burned as his voice dropped to a low growl.
"I know you’re still getting used to teaching, All Might. Your effort was admirable, and your achievements meant a lot even to mere onlookers. When Midoriya became your successor, I thought it was a good thing. But All Might..."
After a brief pause, Kirishima clenched his eyes shut and then opened them again.
His usual bright expression was gone, replaced by a steely, cold tone as he addressed the gloomy All Might.
"If you drive a student to wreck his body over some meaningless fight, you’re no teacher at all. Look at the result: a sixteen-year-old boy lost an arm trying to meet your expectations. What’s next? The other arm? Or a leg? Even without your prodding, that kid would push himself too far, not caring about his own body. As a teacher, you should have stopped him, not cheered him on. I understand your impatience, but please, don’t rush Midoriya so much."
The air was heavy with tension.
Everyone knew Midoriya was no ordinary kid.
They also knew All Might was the same—when the two were together, overexertion was almost inevitable.
Yet, considering all the years All Might had lived, Kirishima never expected him to push a kid so far over a mere tournament.
When would he understand that what might be trivial for him could mean blood and broken bones for someone else?
"People aren’t made like molten metal poured into a mold. They have to be forged slowly—hammered, ground down, and polished until they’re strong enough to hold weight. If there’s too much, you trim it back; if too little, you build it up. That’s the duty of a teacher. I hope you’ll consider that from now on. I’m leaving."
All Might couldn’t stop Kirishima as he turned and walked away.
Just as Kirishima reached for the door, it swung open and a swarm of students rushed toward him.
"Midoriya! Huh? Kirishima, too?"
"Oh, I just dropped by earlier. I’m heading out now."
With barely a word, Kirishima departed.
The students glanced at his unusually cold demeanor, but soon their focus returned to Midoriya, the reason they had come.
Ignoring the voices behind him, Kirishima steeled his resolve as he prepared for his next challenge: Bakugo, a rival he had faced countless times.
"What should I do?" he muttered to himself.
As his whispered words echoed in the corridor, the stadium was restored and the next round of matches began.
Shiozaki couldn’t keep up with Iida’s speed; grabbed and shoved out of bounds, his match ended in an instant.
Ashido managed to evade Dark Shadow’s assaults, but she ultimately failed to close the gap and was defeated.
Thanks to these swift resolutions, the fourth match began earlier than expected.
In the corridor, Kirishima removed his shirt and folded it neatly.
After a moment’s thought, he resolved to give his all in beating Bakugo down.
This wasn’t a real street fight, and he had no intention of expending every bit of energy in a tournament without reason. But if Bakugo considered the match important, then he would fight with all his heart.
After all, the Bakugo Kirishima knew was a man who fought with nothing but raw determination.
Stepping out of the corridor bare-chested, his sculpted upper body on full display, he drew gasps from the onlookers.
"Oh! Kirishima! What’s this—a service for female fans nationwide?"
"Service? Not at all."
Had he transformed into his Demon Form, his clothes would likely have been torn apart, and with Bakugo’s explosive blasts, ruined beyond repair. Instead, he had chosen to remove them preemptively.
Ignoring the murmurs, he addressed Bakugo, who stood ready.
"I considered holding back, but I figured you’d prefer a fight with no holds barred. Is that alright?"
Bakugo’s sharp, fierce eyes flashed as he grinned and replied,
"Yeah. Of course we fight like our lives depend on it."
"Match four of round two! Who will come out on top? From the Hero Course! Kirishima Eijiro versus the astonishing offensive power and judgment of the Hero Course! Bakugo Katsuki!"
Perhaps chastened by Aizawa’s earlier words, Bakugo’s introduction this time was relatively restrained.
But he paid little heed to such formalities.
Every bit of his focus was now on Kirishima.
The first person who had ever taught him what defeat felt like—and whom he had never managed to beat ever since.
At first, he’d wondered if he was the weak one. But spending time together made it clear:
That man was a monster, someone unrivaled even among their own generation.
He had challenged that monster countless times and been defeated every single time.
And today, he faced yet another challenge.
"All right! No need to hesitate—let’s begin!"
Even after the match started, Bakugo remained still.
Unlike before, he didn’t charge in immediately. Instead, he closed his eyes—a sight that puzzled everyone watching.
He concentrated silently on his body.
Rather than letting the sweat drip and burst it out externally, he reabsorbed it through his skin.
Defeat was always bitter, but nothing was more excruciating than being unable to find any means to win.
During yesterday’s attack at USJ, Bakugo had been unable to even react to Nomu’s onslaught.
All Might was the strongest—that was true. Yet despite Kirishima having fought nearly on par with him, Bakugo hadn’t been allowed even a glimpse of what occurred at that pace.
In his frustration at finding no viable method, he turned to the internet.
He drifted onto a wiki without a particular plan, clicking around until he landed on nitroglycerin.
There, he discovered that nitroglycerin was used medically for its vasodilatory effects.
Vasodilation.
Like Archimedes uncovering a principle, Bakugo developed a new technique.
And today, he unveiled it for the first time.
When he finally opened his eyes again, Kirishima appeared almost demonic—a sight that nothing short of a nightmare would evoke.
Even as horns seemed to sprout from his elbows and knees and a red glow shone from his eyes, Bakugo grinned.
"Looks like you did something, but I can’t tell just by looking. You done?"
"Yeah. I kept you waiting long enough, didn’t I? Now let’s have a proper fight."
"Hmph, confident, aren’t you? Let’s see if you’ve earned that." While those words faded, Kirishima closed the distance as if he were folding space itself.
Bakugo watched his every move intently.
"Just as I thought—I can react to it!"
The instant that thought flashed and Kirishima began to move, Bakugo’s responding palm unleashed an explosion that sent his body soaring into the air.
Kirishima’s fist, moving with the speed to level a building in a single strike, sliced through the open air.
Watching Bakugo’s display with admiration, Kirishima remarked,
"Oh? You dodged that?"
Bakugo extended his hand, triggering a massive explosion whose recoil propelled him even higher.
It was only his mind that had been activated by the nitro boost.
Physically, he remained unchanged.
The ground was Kirishima’s domain. Fighting on it would force him only to dodge desperately, leaving no opportunity to attack.
The new technique—dubbed the Nitro Booster—expanded the blood vessels in his brain. It was risky, its effects brief, but if he was to avoid being overwhelmed and actually land an attack, he had no other choice.
It was Bakugo’s stubborn effort to break into the realm of the superhuman.
Kirishima evaded the explosions with ease.
Even as he attacked, he maintained a steady stance, and the moment an assault faltered, he shifted his feet to completely escape Bakugo’s range.
From above, his incredible speed made even Bakugo silently marvel.
But the time to fight had come. Bakugo matched Kirishima’s movements with a series of massive explosions.
Simultaneously, he detonated blasts into the air with his free arm, moving in unpredictable bursts.
Kirishima remained elusive, yet that didn’t matter.
The stadium, gradually cracking and crumbling under the repeated blasts, was closing in on him.
At last, the moment came when Kirishima paused.
As if anticipating this, Bakugo directed his palm towards him.
A massive explosion erupted, and a cloud of blast obscured the entire stadium.
It was the first significant strike Kirishima had allowed since the Sports Festival began.
A silence, deep and still as the eye of a storm, fell over the arena.
Like the dagger of a traitor, it struck the back of the very one closest to the throne.
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