….
"THAT ACTUALLY FUCKING WORKED!"
Bakuko sounded delighted, the sound of a boy who had finally found an equal to stand beside.
Midoriya was smiling too, adrenaline and exhilaration making his eyes bright. "Kacchan, left side opening–!"
"I SEE IT!"
They moved as one, and All Might realized sothing remarkable: they weren't just fighting to pass the exam or even to survive.
But they are enjoying it. They were savoring the challenge, the impossible coordination, and the sheer thrill of pulling off high-level maneuvers against the ultimate opponent.
They had stopped being rivals forced to work together and beco partners who competed through cooperation.
"YOUNG MIDORIYA! YOUNG BAKUGO!" All Might's voice bood with pride even as he countered their next assault. "MAGNIFICENT! BUT I AM NOT FINISHED YET!"
He accelerated again, weighted bracelets straining against his increased output.
The duo t him head-on without hesitation; and the battle reached heights that shouldn't have been possible for first-year students.
Bakugo had learned to use explosions with surgical precision, variable output attacks that conserved sweat while maximizing tactical advantage.
Small bursts for mobility, dium blasts for offense and maximum output only at critical monts, and even then, focused into concentrated streams rather than wasteful spherical explosions.
Midoriya's [Black Whip] had beco an extension of his tactical thinking, every tendril served multiple purposes.
Attack, defense, mobility, misdirection, and underneath it all, One For All at 35% gave him speed that let him capitalize on every opening Bakugo created.
Together, they forced the Symbol of Peace to do the unthinkable: he had to actually strategize rather than just react.
A feint from Midoriya drew All Might's guard high; Bakugo imdiately struck low with a concussive blast that forced a block.
Black Whip uses that mont of defense to reposition Midoriya for a follow-up strike, and Bakugo reads the counter, already moving to intercept All Might's transition with a barrage of blasts.
Continuous pressure, constant adaptation and zero wasted movent; it was beautiful.
"Their combat language... it's evolving in real-ti." All Might observed, his eyes shining with pride.
Midoriya launched himself with [Black Whip] while Bakugo provided covering fire. The tendrils wrapped around All Might's arm, to use as an anchor point, pulling Midoriya into a spinning kick that Bakugo's own explosion enhanced mid-flight, adding a terrifying centrifugal force to the impact.
All Might caught the strike, but Bakugo was already behind him, having used the distraction to reposition via blast-assisted movent.
Another combination, another narrow miss, and both boys were grinning like absolute maniacs.
….
In the monitoring facility, the silence was absolute; the other students stood frozen, their eyes glued to the screens.
"Those two..." Kirishima breathed. "They're incredible. They look like pros out there."
"...they are fighting on the sa foot as All Might." Kaminari said, voice filled with awe.
Yaoyorozu's analytical mind was racing. "The coordination level is absurd, executing combination attacks that typically require weeks of dedicated partner training, reading each other through minimal cues, and adapting strategies in real-ti without verbal communication."
"When did that happen?" Jiro asked. "Bakugo and Midoriya... working together without screaming at each other? Since when do they trust each other like that?"
On screen, Midoriya and Bakugo executed another impossible combination; [Black Whip] creating a web that funneled All Might's movent, while Bakugo's explosions herded him toward the trap.
"To begin with, each of them is formidable on their own." Shoto said, his gaze fixed on the screen. His voice was steady, but there was a flicker of sothing intense behind his eyes. "Together, they aren't just twice as strong. They're exponentially more dangerous."
The battle raged on. All Might remained the dominant force, a golden titan who was still clearly superior in every tric. Yet, for the first ti, he was forced to pause; to actually think about his counters rather than simply drowning them in raw power.
Shoto watched his classmates push themselves beyond reasonable limits.
His own exam with Yaoyorozu had ended in success, but it had been a victory of inches, snatched through technicalities and a desperate, clever gamble.
But this was different; this was two students refusing to acknowledge the gap between themselves and the Symbol of Peace, refusing to accept defeat, throwing everything they had into the fight because that was what Heroes did.
And enjoying every second of it.
Shoto's hands clenched at his sides. I need to get stronger, he realized, the thought cold and certain. They aren't going to wait for to catch up.
On screen, Midoriya and Bakugo launched their most complex combination yet; a three-stage attack that used [Black Whip] mobility, explosion redirection, and perfectly tid One For All strikes in sequence so smooth it looked choreographed.
All Might countered, but he was actually breathing hard now.
Every person watching knew they were witnessing sothing special; the mont when students stopped being students and started becoming Heroes.
Even if they didn't win, they had already proven sothing more important than victory.
They had proven they belonged on this battlefield.
…and when Midoriya Izuku and Bakugo Katsuki stopped fighting each other and started fighting together, they beca exactly what Dabi had predicted:
Monsters.
The very best kind of monsters that would save the world soday.
….
The sudden crackle of the communication system broke the trance in the monitoring room.
"Attention." Recovery Girl's voice rang out, sharp and professional. "The final battle of Class 1-A's practical examination is concluding, all other matches have ended."
All Might's eyebrows rose slightly in surprise.
His colleagues, Aizawa, Dabi, Thirteen, Ectoplasm, all of them had been defeated by their student pairs?
That was... unprecedented. In the history of UA, such a sweep was unheard of. It was impressive, certainly, but it signaled a seismic shift in the caliber of this class.
He turned his focus back to the two boys before him. All Might still stood tall, his legendary fra barely winded despite the intensity of the exchange.
The two students before him, however, were a different story.
Midoriya and Bakugo stood several feet away, both utterly ragged.
All Might had been careful not to deal any serious injuries, but they were clearly beyond exhausted.
Both physically and ntally drained from sustaining that level of coordination and combat intensity.
Bakugo's hands trembled violently, his palms raw and weeping from the relentless friction of his explosions. His sweat reserves were bone-dry.
Midoriya swayed slightly, arms hanging toward the ground, Black Whip dissipated entirely.
One For All flickering weakly across his body, the 35% output he had maintained throughout the fight having taxed his stamina to the absolute limit.
"Giving up?" All Might asked, though his tone was gentle rather than challenging.
In truth, he wanted to end it here. They had already exceeded every reasonable benchmark for a first-year student; perhaps even for a seasoned sidekick.
Continuing felt almost cruel, yet he had caught himself up in the thrill of it, srized by the sheer audacity of their growth.
And he still had more than enough ti remaining in this form to maintain the facade for a while longer.
His five-hour limit hadn't been reached yet.
But to hand them a victory now would be an insult. It would turn their masterpiece of a struggle into a participation trophy. To respect the blood and grit they had left on the pavent, he had to let them finish it.
Bakugo's knees buckled slightly, his hands incapable of producing even a spark. "Damn it..." he rasped, the words catching in his dry throat. "He's too strong. Way too fucking strong."
He had finally understood it completely.
All Might wasn't just powerful, he was overwhelming.
The gap between them wasn't sothing that could be bridged through tactics or combination attacks or clever strategies.
All Might truly was the strongest Hero; the world's most insurmountable wall.
All Might's voice softened even further. "You've both fought admirably. There is no sha in–"
"Giving up?" Bakugo interrupted, and despite his exhaustion, despite his trembling hands, despite everything, he grinned. "I AM JUST DONE WITH MY WARM-UP!"
He took a step forward, matching Midoriya's advance.
All Might smiled; genuinely, warmly, with pride that filled his entire chest.
These boys... they truly are the future.
But his pride was his undoing.
Because in that fraction of a second when All Might's guard relaxed with pride, when he was basking in the satisfaction of watching his students refuse to give up–
Midoriya's eyes t Bakugo.
Now.
Bakugo dropped to the ground, flattening himself completely.
Midoriya's [Black Whip], which he had deliberately let dissipate to appear more exhausted than he actually was… suddenly erupted from both hands simultaneously.
…and it wasn't toward All Might, but the ground beneath All Might's feet.
The tendrils wrapped around chunks of debris, creating a makeshift catapult. Midoriya pulled with every calorie of energy remaining in his muscles. The debris launched upward in a fragnted wall, hurtling toward All Might's face.
The Symbol of Peace jumped backward on reflex, exactly where Bakugo had predicted.
The explosion wasn't large.
Bakugo had been telling the truth about his depleted reserves.
But he had a blast that he saved for the final, agonizing gram of nitroglycerin sweat for this singular mont. He tid it to detonate at the exact instant of contact.
The explosion wasn't ant to hurt All Might, but to create a smoke screen. And in that mont of obscured vision, they didn't try to win a fight they knew was unwinnable.
Instead, they sprinted. They ignored the agony in their lungs and the trembling in their legs, bolting past the staggered hero toward the gate he had been guarding.
All Might realized their play imdiately. "Clever–!"
But he had been caught flat-footed, positioned wrong, montum carrying him away from the gate rather than toward it.
By the ti he turned to pursue, Midoriya had already crossed the boundary line.
The buzzer sounded.
….
Both students collapsed the instant they crossed the threshold, completely spent.
All Might stood there for a mont, then threw his head back and laughed, the full, booming All Might laugh that carried across the entire training ground.
"WONDERFUL! ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL!"
….
Recovery Girl's voice ca through the speakers again:
"Ti is up. The End of Term Practical Test is officially over." A brief, heavy pause followed.
"All students from Class 1-A have passed the examination."
Class 1-A achieved a 100% pass rate on the final exams, which has never happened in U.A. history.
….
Far from U.A., in a dimly lit bar that slled of stale alcohol and the lingering rot of poor decisions, Tomura Shigaraki stared at a photograph.
Midoriya Izuku, green hair, and determined eyes.
Tomura's fingers wrapped around the photo, and it crumbled to dust between his fingertips.
"Annoying." he muttered as reached up, scratching at the scarred skin of his neck in frantic agitation. "Always getting in the way."
The door opened, and the sa well-dressed man from the hostess bar stepped in, accompanied by soone new.
A boy; teenager, really.
"Shigaraki." the broker said smoothly, adjusting his cuffs. "I have brought soone who expressed a rather... passionate interest in joining your League of Villains."
Tomura looked up, red eyes narrowing with imdiate distaste.
The boy's expression, that arrogant, self-assured smirk, reminded him of the types he despised most.
It reminded him of the "NPCs" he despised most: the ones who thought they were the main characters, the ones who believed the world was a ga designed for their amusent.
"Kurogiri." Tomura said flatly, his voice like sandpaper. "Send him away. I'm not running a daycare for brats."
The misty bartender paused in his glass-cleaning. "Perhaps we should hear what he has to say first, Tomura Shigaraki? The broker has provided quality recruits in the past. We are in need of numbers."
"The service charge applies whether you like him or not." the broker added, examining a perfectly manicured nail. "Might as well get your money's worth. At least let the boy introduce himself."
Tomura scratched harder at his neck, clearly irritated but considering.
"Fine." Tomura finally conceded. "You've got one minute. Make it interesting, or get the fuck out before I lose my patience."
The boy's smirk widened.
"My na." he said, voice carrying just enough confidence to be irritating. "Is…."
Tomura's hand froze mid-scratch.
.
….
[To be continued…]
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