More and more teams were overcoming matchups that exploited their opponents’ weaknesses.
The Koda and Jiro team turned Present Mic’s well-known aversion to insects into their advantage, toppling an opponent who, in many ways, was their superior counterpart.
Tsuyu and Tokoyami pulled off a clever trick against Ectoplasm—the very counter they dreaded—by secretly handing over the spare handcuffs to Dark Shadow, using them to subdue their foe.
Even Iida and Ojiro managed a win, employing explosive leg strength to launch Ojiro forward and bypass treacherous, unstable ground altogether.
As the exam’s final moments ticked away, the students kept racking up excellent results.
Meanwhile, Uraraka and Aoyama still found themselves without an answer. Facing Thirteen—as he advanced with a powerful suction generated by the “Black Hole” emanating from his fingertip—the only thing the pair could do was cling desperately to the railing, hoping to avoid being swept away in one fell swoop.
Aoyama attempted to target Thirteen by using his costume’s function to fire a laser from his knees instead of his midsection, but his efforts proved futile. Even the laser beam was swallowed by his Quirk, the “Black Hole,” disintegrating into nothingness.
Seeing Aoyama’s rigid expression, Uraraka frantically racked her brain. “Damn it, I’m getting caught. Think! I have to think—if this were Midoriya Izuku…”
“Hey.”
“Wait a second—I’m thinking.”
Uraraka cut him off, attempting to concentrate. But Aoyama’s incessant chattering shattered her focus. “You were thinking ‘If this were Midoriya Izuku,’ weren’t you? You like that kid, don’t you?”
“Huh?”
Stunned into silence, Uraraka instinctively covered her face with both hands. In doing so, she lost her grip on the railing and, with gravity seemingly suspended by the contact of her hands, she careened straight toward Thirteen.
Both of them shrieked in panic.
“Eh?!”
“Waaah!”
Unable to disintegrate and kill Uraraka as he had planned, Thirteen simply twisted his fingers. In a flash, Uraraka found herself hurtling right up to him, and on pure reflex she executed a move she had long practiced. “Huh, huh? I got her…”
Ultimately, a series of coincidences allowed Uraraka to subdue Thirteen. Aoyama rushed over and swiftly snapped the handcuffs onto him.
Amused by the absurdity of it all, Thirteen let out a wry laugh. “Well, as embarrassing as it is, a subdual is a subdual. Team Uraraka-Aoyama, you pass.”
“Yay!”
Watching the two celebrate, Thirteen shook his head. Luck had clearly played a major role, compounded by his own inexperience in combat. Still, he had no intention of raining on the parade for the overjoyed students—after all, Aizawa was more than capable of doing that.
Just then, the bell rang to signal the end of the exam. At long last, the grueling final was over.
**
The next day, Kirishima walked into class accompanied by Ashido. After spending considerable effort comforting Ashido over her failing grade, Kirishima immediately spotted yet another student who had not made the grade.
When Ashido encountered the gloomy Kaminari, the atmosphere in the room sank into utter desolation. However, upon seeing Midoriya approaching to greet them, she sniffled softly. “Guys… sniff. I’m really looking forward to hearing your travel stories—ugh!”
“Ah, we still don’t know. There might even be one last comeback!”
“Mention Midoriya like that and he’s bound to vanish into thin air…”
Midoriya, alarmed by the sight of teary Ashido, tried to comfort her, only to be rudely interrupted by Sero.
None of them really understood why such heated fuss was made over a mere training camp. After all, what difference did it make if they went or not? Just as Kirishima was about to offer some consolation, Kaminari beat him to the punch. Pointing a finger as if to jab Midoriya, he shouted, “If you fail the exam, you’re banned from the forest training camp and thrown into remedial hell! And we all flunked the practical too! If you still can’t get it, your scores are even lower than those of a monkey!”
“Calm down. I’m as clueless as you are. I passed thanks to Sho, but honestly, I was half-asleep the entire time. Until they clarify the grading criteria, though…”
“If you’re going to sympathize, at least hand us a bit more than empty words!”
Kaminari did nothing to hide his indignation at Sero’s attempted consolation.
At that moment, the bell rang again and Aizawa entered the room. He quickly silenced the classroom with a single, concise order: “When the warning bell rings, sit down.”
Looking at the suddenly hushed students, he continued in his characteristically calm, almost unfeeling tone, “Regarding this final exam—unfortunately, you all received failing grades.”
Ashido and Kaminari slumped visibly. It was as if the classroom’s vibrant hues had been drained, leaving behind only a bleak, ashen pallor.
Aizawa remained unmoved. “Therefore, the forest training camp will be mandatory for everyone!” he declared.
“A last-minute reversal!”
Ashido and Kaminari, looking as though they had just grasped a rope leading from the depths of hell back to heaven, shouted in disbelief, “Are we really going? Us?”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
Aizawa replied in a flat, indifferent manner as he explained the exam results. “For those who failed—zero on the written portion. And on the practical, Kaminari, Ashido, Sato, and Sero didn’t pass.”
Sato and Sero had suspected as much, but when reality hit, they groaned and buried their faces in their hands. “Ugh. They never mentioned that clearing the test wasn’t enough…,” one muttered, while the other lamented, “We might be along for the ride, but this is just too much…”
Aizawa continued, “In this exam, we villains deliberately left you with a fighting chance while also testing how you would handle the assignment. Otherwise, you’d have been blocked at every step long before any talk of assignments.”
“So when you said you’d really knock us down…”
In response to Ojiro’s question, Aizawa shrugged, “It was simply to corner you. After all, the forest training camp is meant to be a strengthening camp. Those who fail are exactly the ones who need to build their strength. A rational lie, if you will.”
“A rational lie!”
As Aizawa offered a thin smile, the failing students couldn’t help but both gasp in surprise and cheer in relief. Only Iida reacted differently. “We’ve been had again… This is U.A. after all! But if you spin a rational lie twice, won’t it break our trust?”
“Wow. Way to pour cold water on things, Iida,” someone teased.
Uraraka stared in disbelief as Iida, hand raised in protest, shouted his objection—a display that was, in itself, remarkably endearing despite its absurdity.
Aizawa made no further comment. “That may be so, and I’ll reflect on it. But failing is still failing. I’ve arranged extra remedial lessons for you. Trust me, these won’t be as easy as simply staying after school for make-up work.”
At his words, the mood of the once exuberant group of failing students sank once again. The homeroom announcement came to a close, and soon the day’s final activities drew near.
After class, Ojiro beamed and said, “At least we’re all in this together!”
Iida, eyeing a guidebook, added, “A week-long training camp!”
“That’s going to mean a lot of luggage,” another remarked.
“I don’t even own a swimsuit. Looks like I’ll have to buy a whole bunch of stuff,” someone chimed in.
In response to the back-to-back quips from Midoriya and Kaminari, Hagakure, ever cheerful, piped up, “Since tomorrow’s a holiday and the test’s finally done, why don’t all of Class A go shopping together?”
“Oh, nice! Isn’t this the first time we’ve done something like that?”
At Kaminari’s agreeing nod, Uraraka too smiled in reluctant excitement.
Bakugo silently slung his bag over his shoulder and left the classroom.
Watching him depart, Kirishima asked, “Aren’t you coming?”
Bakugo shot back, “You think I’d go to something that pointless?”
When Kirishima nodded in confirmation of the expected answer, Midoriya approached Todoroki. “Todoroki, aren’t you coming as well?”
“I have to visit someone on my day off,” Todoroki replied.
“Ah… I see.”
Before Midoriya could press further, Ashido leaped toward Kirishima. “Eiji-chan! You’re coming too, right? Let’s go together and buy all kinds of stuff!”
“No. This weekend I have a stop in Kyoto to see my teacher,” Kirishima said flatly.
“Eeeh!”
At his answer, every eye in the class turned toward him. Kirishima tilted his head in puzzlement. “Hm? What’s wrong? Is there a problem? I’d love to come along if I could.”
“You have a teacher?”
“Oh, so you’re curious about that, huh?”
Until now, Kirishima had seemed almost untouchable—a figure as distant and awe-inspiring as a deity. His absurd physical prowess, which even outmatched the Pro Heroes, his uncanny versatility that made Quirks seem pedestrian, and his combat skills that belonged on a completely different plane altogether—all of it made him seem less human and more like a force of nature. Some even whispered that he wasn’t human at all, but a demon whose so-called “Demon Form” was nothing more than his true self reemerging.
It was no wonder that the class was ravenous with questions about his teacher. “Of course! Wasn’t that teacher the one who raised you to be this way?”
“Wow. Think you could introduce us sometime?”
Kirishima, clearly uninterested in the bombardment of questions, replied coolly, “Look, I grew up on my own. Even before I met my teacher, I was already strong enough thanks to boxing. All I learned from him was muay thai, more or less. But he’s someone worth calling a teacher—and he liked me enough to take me on as his disciple.”
“Huh, you really grew up on your own?”
As the skeptical looks spread across his classmates’ faces, Ashido jumped in, “Yeah. Eiji-chan has been boxing since he was a kid. I met him when I was three, and he was already into boxing back then. Later on, he even taught me, Midoriya, and Bakugo.”
“He really is a monster…”
Chuckling at their awed reaction, Kirishima added, “Not a monster—just a really strong person.”
“Wow. Sure, that’s technically true, but why does it sound so obnoxious?”
“Maybe because you’re too narrow-minded to accept the truth? Anyway, I probably can’t join you for shopping, so have fun. This meeting with my teacher is too important to reschedule.”
“Aww. I wanted to go shopping with Eiji-chan,” someone complained.
“Don’t act cute with me,” Kirishima shot back.
True to form, once Kirishima set his mind on something, there was no changing it. Predicting his absence, the others quickly began planning their shopping trip accordingly.
With murmurs about the prefecture’s largest shopping mall drifting in one ear and out the other, Kirishima prepared to head home. After all, he had to accompany Ashido, so he’d just have to wait until their conversation wound down.
Later that evening, after returning home rather late, Kirishima shared dinner with Ashido, caught up on the latest gossip about his classmates, and finally called it a night.
Days passed uneventfully until the weekend finally arrived. Kirishima left the house with Ashido in tow.
“Eiji-chan, so you’re going today and coming back tomorrow?”
“Probably. We’re just talking—it wouldn’t hurt to come back today, but there’s no rush. It’s been a while since I saw my teacher, so I guess I’ll spend the night at his place.”
“Really? Aw, I wanted to hang out. We’ve been buried in study all weekend because of the exam.”
“Hm. I don’t mind studying as long as I’m with you,” he teased.
“W-What? No, that’s not what I meant! You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you!”
“Doing what?”
“Nothing, you jerk!”
Kirishima couldn’t help but chuckle at Ashido’s flushed response. Even she, for all her passion, knew that Kirishima’s sense of romance was predictably disastrous.
In another life, he had been the kind of guy who changed girlfriends more times than he could count. After his gym owner had passed away and he’d suffered countless betrayals, Kirishima had become almost incapable of trusting anyone, which in turn made deep relationships nearly impossible. He had desperately searched for someone to confide in, but whenever he encountered a promising candidate, he found himself unable to fully reveal his true self.
Shaking off those bitter memories, he ruffled Ashido’s soft, messy hair. “Anyway, go have a blast today. Next time, we’ll go together.”
“Tch. Fine. You be careful too, Eiji-chan. And don’t go beating up villains while you’re out,” she admonished.
“Do I look like the type who goes around hunting for villains?”
“You’re not actively seeking trouble, but trouble sure finds you, right?”
“Hm. Can’t argue with that. Anyway, I’m really off now. Maybe the day after tomorrow—no, maybe tomorrow I’ll see you. Later!”
“Yeah. Bye!”
Kirishima waved as Ashido called after him, then caught a taxi to the station. He took the same train he’d ridden about a year ago to Kyoto and, once again, hailed a taxi from the station to Samat’s house.
When he pressed the doorbell, a warm voice he hadn’t heard in ages greeted him. “Who is it? Oh! It’s Kirishima. Come on in.”
Following the automatically opening door, he stepped inside and greeted Saki—who looked exactly as she had a year ago. “Hello. You’re as beautiful as ever, Saki.”
“Hoho. You’re something else, Kirishima. Tetsuya would be thrilled—I caught your performance at the U.A. Sports Festival and even tuned into your press conference live. You really spoke well,” Saki complimented.
“The Sports Festival was nothing more than playful banter with my classmates; being praised for it is a bit embarrassing. As for the press conference, I just spoke my mind, so I’m grateful people took it well,” he replied modestly.
“So humble. You came to see your father, right? He’s in there.”
“Yes. I have some important business to discuss today, so I won’t keep you any longer.”
“Of course. Go on in.”
Kirishima bowed slightly and headed toward Samat’s room—a place filled with so many shared memories. When he slid open the door, he found Samat’s face, still as vigorous as ever, albeit etched with the subtle lines of time.
“Hello, Teacher.”
“Don’t get all formal with me, you brat,” Samat retorted with a playful scowl.
Despite Samat’s feigned grumpiness, Kirishima couldn’t help but grin. He had journeyed all this way to discuss the most important matter in his current life—a task that, based on their long history, Samat wouldn’t refuse outright, even if he did so with a hint of annoyance. What mattered most was that Samat wasn’t turning him down. It felt as if the foundation for the great tower he was building was finally coming together.
Comments (0)
Please log in to leave a comment. Login or Register