“Is he just gonna keep breaking his fingers?”

  Jirou craned her neck toward the screen. The match was a brutal display of power, two boys giving everything they had, but one of them clearly had the edge.

  Kaminari was blindly feeling around his plate, still staring up at the fight, until he realized the takoyaki was gone. His hand froze mid-search. He glanced down in confusion, then sniffled and blinked at the screen. “...It kinda looks like they’re just screaming at each other.”

  Momo’s voice cut in next, a little lighter than before. Whether it was the fight or the distraction of the crowd, some of the tension in her shoulders had faded.

  “It’s kind of Midoriya’s thing, isn’t it? He always talks to his opponent a lot.”

  Jirou glanced over and caught the shift in Momo’s posture. She smiled faintly. “Well, yeah. Most heroes talk a lot in battle, don’t they?”

  “Not sure about that,” Kaminari added. “Half the fights so far have been dead silent. If you don’t count the screaming, I mean-”

  A thunderous crack shattered the air. Another wave of jagged ice surged across the stadium toward Midoriya. The sound alone told them he’d broken another finger to deflect it, the shockwave slicing through the roar of the crowd. A beat later, the screen confirmed it. Midoriya’s hand was mangled, Todoroki was unfazed.

  Kaminari winced. “Don’t you guys ever feel bad for Midoriya? He has to break himself to use his Quirk. That’s gotta be hell. Talk about a bad downside.”

  “You can’t really talk about downsides when using your Quirk fries your brain,” Jirou retorted, standing up abruptly.

  “Hey, not fair... wait, where are you going?”

  “I’m gonna buy some water... You guys want any?” Her voice was clipped, more annoyed than polite.

  “I could go for a bottle right about now.”

  “Thanks, Jirou. A bottle of water would be fine.”

  She turned on her heel, boots tapping fast against the concrete, and disappeared down toward the vendor stalls.

  Kaminari stared blankly at the screen. Glacier after glacier. Crash after crash. The spectacle was so massive it was starting to feel repetitive, like watching the same explosion on loop. His gaze drifted over to Momo. She’d taken out her phone, asleek, high-end, the newest of Pear? phones, but the screen was dead.

  “You want me to charge that?” he asked, nodding toward it.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Momo looked up, a bit surprised. “You can do that?... I was thinking of creating a charger, but there’s nowhere nearby to plug it in.”

  “Yeah, I can! Just give me the cable. I’m not just a lightning rod, y’know.” The joke was light, but it carried a sting.

  Momo hesitated before creating a cable, drawing it from her forearm and plugging it into her phone. She passed it to Kaminari carefully.

  “What voltage does it charge at?” he asked, examining the connector.

  She blinked, caught off guard by the technical question. “...Oh. Twelve volts. Sorry.”

  “Fast-charging, huh?” he said, gripping the metal tip. Sparks crackled softly around his fingers. A charging notification blinked onto the phone screen. He shot a quiet thumbs-up.

  “It’ll be ready by next match... probably.”

  “Thanks, Kaminari. I sometimes forget your Quirk can be used in versatile ways. That’s my mistake.” Her eyes dropped to her knees. Her voice cracked. “I really should take those things into account more.”

  Kaminari didn’t have a good answer. He just stayed quiet, watching the fight stretch on and letting the hum of the electricity fill the silence between explosions.

  Jirou returned a minute later, cradling three water bottles, two cheap ones and one that looked like it belonged in a hotel minibar. She dropped the expensive one beside Momo without a word and handed one of the cheaper ones to Kaminari.

  He accepted it like it was sacred, bowing his head a little in thanks.

  Jirou sat beside him this time, not close, but on the same side of the bench. She turned toward Momo, her voice flat. “What’d I miss?”

  Kaminari glanced up. The screen showed Midoriya pushing through pure agony, throwing his entire weight behind a punch to Todoroki’s gut, every finger on his fist clearly broken. Todoroki froze his arm mid-impact, but still staggered. The scream they were both locked in was almost surreal now, faces contorted with effort.

  “Not much,” Kaminari said. “Same match. Midoriya used his full arm once... he almost knocked Todoroki out of bounds. He’s... breaking his already-broken fingers now. Every time he parries. He’s insane.”

  Jirou gave a quiet “Huh.”

  And then, something changed.

  Kaminari sat forward, eyes narrowing. The fight shifted. Midoriya threw another punch, but this time, Todoroki didn’t counter with ice. His left side erupted.

  A wave of fire exploded outward from Todoroki’s body, thick and searing, consuming half the arena in steam and flame. It was like watching the sun bleed loose. The heat rippled through the stadium even through the screen.

  He looked different. Energized. Alive. The exhaustion was gone, replaced by focus and fury. Steam hissed from his shoulders as his ice melted faster than it could form.

  Then he stomped forward, ice and fire launching in tandem. A glacier surged toward Midoriya at full speed, faster than any from earlier. Midoriya didn’t flinch. He leapt forward, rocketing through the air on ruined legs, his body a missile of willpower and pain. One arm outstretched. One last punch.

  The screen flickered.

  And then went dark.

  A split-second later, the stadium shook.

  Kaminari and the girls stared, mouths open, as a billowing cloud of steam engulfed the entire field. Even from outside, the cloud was massive, towering, thick, and white-hot. A full five seconds passed in silence before Midnight’s voice came through, muffled but clear.

  “M-Midoriya is out of bounds... Todoroki advances to the third round!”

  The crowd erupted.

  Kaminari turned to Momo, stunned. His voice was half-laugh, half-fear. “That was insane... y’know, I think I wouldn’t have stood a chance either. Makes me real nervous for the next matches...”

  “They’re probably going to have to repair the arena after that one, right? And who’s up next?” Jirou asked.

  Kaminari didn’t hesitate. “That one should go by in a flash.”

  “Iida versus Robinn.”

  Author’s Note!

  is a rewrite, I can change anything I want. But I still want it to feel real.

  doesn’t veer the plot off-track as fast as you’d think. But don’t expect a 1:1 either, I’m changing a ton later on. The next arc, for example, is going to be completely original. And honestly? I can’t wait to write Year 2. The stuff I’ve got planned is insane.

  real. Not necessarily character development, but more like fleshing out the world they live in. And it also helps highlight how not real a certain character is. (You’ll see what I mean.)

  Do you prefer it this way? Would you rather I write these canon fights again, beat for beat? Or is this kind of outside look more interesting?