(Kenjiro's POV – First Person)
The moment Todoroki's eyes locked onto mine, I felt the shift.
That same unflinching stare. Icy. Uncompromising. The kind that didn't ask if we were fighting—just when.
He didn't need to say it. I already knew.
This wasn't about points anymore.
It was about pride.
"Sasaki." His voice was cold enough to fog gss.
I couldn't help but grin. "What's wrong, Todoroki? Still mad I turned your precious gcier into slush back in the battle trial?"
A tic. Barely a twitch at the corner of his eye.
But it was there.
Bullseye.
No more words.
Todoroki smmed his foot into the ground, and the entire field howled.
A tidal wave of ice exploded toward me—thick, jagged, vicious. It tore through the fractured battlefield like a monster on a leash.
Biting cold. Razor sharp. The kind of move that would've frozen half the arena if I wasn't ready.
But I'm not built like the rest of these kids.
I gritted my teeth, smmed my foot down, and let the mochi surge through my arm like pressurized syrup.
"Mochi Drill."
My fist spun, mochi hardening into a rapidly spiraling spear. The air warped around it from sheer force. I met the wave head-on—
CRACK.
The gcier split on impact. Shattered. Not melted—obliterated. Ice shards glittered like a crystal storm, falling around me in slow motion.
The crowd lost it.
"UN-BE-LIEVABLE!" Present Mic's voice boomed across the stadium. "TEAM TODOROKI'S SIGNATURE ICE WAVE—CRUSHED IN ONE STRIKE BY KENJIRO SASAKI!"
Todoroki's breath came out in a cloud, thick and steady, but his eyes were slightly wider now.
Cracks in the gcier, both literal and not.
I shook the st shards from my arm, mock-casual. "That all you got, Shoto? I've seen vending machines put up more resistance."
He didn't answer.
But his team did.
"Kaminari, now!"
Lightning.
I could feel it before I saw it—static dancing in the air like ghostfire.
A bolt of raw electricity bsted across the arena, a yellow whip aimed straight for my core.
But my clones were already in motion.
"Mochi Shield."
They raised gooey, glistening barriers just in time. The lightning struck—and fizzled.
Absorbed, conducted and neutralized.
Kaminari blinked, wobbling. "...Crap."
And just like that, he short-circuited. Eyes rolled up. A dopey grin spread across his face as he slumped to one knee.
"One dumb jolt and he's done?" one of my clones muttered. "Weak link."
Iida moved next—engines revving, legs blurring as he tried to circle behind us.
Speed freak.
Too bad speed doesn't mean much if you can't stay upright.
"Mochi Snare."
A tendril unched from my clone's palm, snaking low and fast. It wrapped around Iida's ankle like a constrictor and yanked.
He went flying—then ate concrete.
Hard.
"AH—!"
Sorry, Css Rep.
You should've stayed in your ne.
Momo Yaoyorozu stepped up, trying to create a cannon, hands glowing with materialization.
But creation takes time.
And we don't give time.
"Too slow."
Another clone smmed a mochi-covered fist into the ground. The impact was enough to throw her off bance and send the half-finished cannon tumbling.
Pieces scattered. She cursed under her breath.
And then there was Todoroki—still unmoving on top of a chair where Momo quickly creates before Todoroki feets touch the ground.
Waiting for something.
Then I saw it.
That flicker.
A spark. On his left side.
The air distorted, heat swelling around us like an invisible wall.
Todoroki's left arm lit up—not with hesitation, not with apology, but with full-blown fire.
A geyser of fme poured from his shoulder to his palm.
The crowd gasped as one.
"TODOROKI'S USING HIS FIRE SIDE!" Present Mic shouted. "THIS IS THE FIRST TIME—ALL TOURNAMENT!"
Even I froze.
Not from fear.
From curiosity.
So he'd finally stopped holding back.
About time.
His gaze cut through the fmes, sharp and furious.
"I won't lose," he growled.
The fire surged outward like a dragon exhaling. I had to brace myself, pnting my clones feet in the rubble. The heat licked across my face like an open oven door.
But I didn't step back.
I grinned.
"You finally figured it out."
His eyes narrowed.
"I'm not scared of your old man, Todoroki," I said, voice steady. "And I'm not scared of what you got from him either. But you? You should be scared."
My clones fred out around me, mochi limbs slithering into combat position.
"Because if this is the real you—then I've really been holding back."
And then—just like that—the buzzer screamed across the stadium.
"TIME'S UP!" Midnight's voice rang loud and clear. "FINAL STANDINGS ARE IN!"
A massive screen materialized above the field, digits fshing to life:
1st: Team Sasaki (10,000,000p)2nd: Team Todoroki (6,250p)3rd: Team Midoriya (4,350p)4th: Team Bakugo (3,200p)5th: Team Shinso (1,500p)
The crowd exploded, a sea of fshing lights and deafening appuse.
My clones popped into goo with a synchronized thumbs-up.
I cracked my neck again, sweat clinging to my temple.
Still standing.
Still on top.
But my eyes? Locked on Todoroki.
He was breathing hard. Fire still crackling softly at his fingertips. Ice crusted along his right arm, like a contradiction in human form.
He didn't blink. Didn't move.
Just watched me.
The arena slowly began to clear.
Bakugo was mid-explosion-scream, chasing after Izuku like a rabid hyena. Uraraka tried to hold them apart while Kaminari babbled something about penguins.
Shinso stood calmly in the corner, that smug smirk of his saying everything's going according to pn.
But Todoroki...
He didn't walk away.
He didn't talk.
Just stared.
Like the fight wasn't over. Like the next round had already started in his mind.
I stepped toward him, arms rexed at my sides.
"Y'know," I said casually, "that was the first time you actually looked alive out there."
His eyes narrowed.
"Took you long enough, Half-and-Half."
His fmes fred one st time—then fizzled.
But he didn't turn away.
He just nodded.
A small, almost imperceptible thing.
Respect, maybe.
Or a promise.
Either way, I felt it.
The real fight?
It wasn't behind us.
It was coming.
And I'd be ready.
