[U.A. SPORTS FESTIVAL GROUNDS – MORNING]
The roar of the crowd was deafening.
Not loud — deafening.
Tens of thousands of people packed into the stadium, cheering with the kind of raw excitement that made the air vibrate. Flags waved. Homemade banners bobbed. News drones buzzed overhead, swooping between camera cranes and suspended projectors.
Agencies filled the higher seats, pro heroes in uniform scanning the field with sharp, evaluating eyes. It was nothing like the calm of the classroom or the quiet chaos of the training grounds.
The stadium rose like a colosseum, packed wall-to-wall with spectators who'd traveled from across Japan just to witness this. This wasn't just a school event.
This was national television.
__
[AKUTAMI APARTMENT – LIVING ROOM]
Aiko sat in her wheelchair, positioned directly in front of the TV.
Eri sat cross-legged on the floor beside her, clutching her rabbit plush, eyes wide.
The screen showed the massive stadium, crowds filing in, commentators hyping up the event with practiced enthusiasm.
"You nervous?" Aiko asked.
Eri nodded slowly.
"Me too," Aiko admitted. "But he'll be fine."
"…What if he gets hurt?"
Aiko's expression softened.
"Then he'll get back up. That's what he does."
Eri hugged the plush tighter.
On screen, the camera panned across the stadium, capturing the sheer scale of the event.
"GOOOOOD MORNING, U.A. SPORTS FESTIVAL!"
Present Mic's voice exploded through the speakers.
Eri didn't blink.
Aiko smiled and placed a hand on Eri's head. "Don't worry. I'm sure he'll be fine."
A sudden electric guitar riff blasted through the TV.
In the U.A arena.
Present Mic's voice followed, soaring through the air like a shockwave.
"GOOOOOD MORNING, U.A.!!"
The stadium erupted.
The front screens flared with vibrant colors.
"And welcome, one and all, to the ANNUAL U.A. HIGH SPORTS FESTIVAAAAAL!!"
"THAT'S RIGHT, FOLKS! IT'S THAT TIME OF YEAR AGAIN! THE EVENT THAT SEPARATES THE STRONG FROM THE WEAK! THE BRAVE FROM THE BORING! THE HEROES FROM THE—uh—NOT HEROES YET!"
Laughter rippled through the stands.
"We've got PRO HEROES in the house! AGENCIES scouting for the NEXT BIG THING! And of course, MILLIONS watching at home!"
As the crowd screamed back in response, the camera panned to the commentary booth—
Where a heavily bandaged Aizawa sat slumped in his chair like someone who had been resurrected purely out of obligation.
Bandages covered half his face, and his eyes were visible only because Present Mic had physically propped them open for the shot.
Present Mic leaned in with a grin.
"And joining me on commentary—freshly patched up and held together with more gauze than dignity—THE MUMMY MAN HIMSELF. SHOTA AIZAWA!"
Aizawa stared flatly at the camera.
"…I was forced."
"Ignore him, folks! He's just shy!"
Aizawa turned his head toward the field.
"…Just start the ceremony."
"WITH PLEASURE!"
A burst of fireworks exploded over the stadium.
The opening theme blasted through the speakers.
"Ladies and gentlemen—students, spectators, heroes and hopefuls—please put your hands together for the FIRST-YEAR HERO COURSE!!"
The gates slid open.
Meanwhile, In Class 1D Waiting Area,
The concrete hallway hummed with vibrations from the crowd above.
General Studies students stood in their section, matching tracksuits and restless energy.
Some stretched. Others psyched themselves up. A few already looked like they regretted coming.
Yuta leaned against the wall, hands in his pockets, eyes half-lidded.
Around him, his classmates were talking.
"This is it."
"We're actually here."
"Oh god, is anyone else nervous?"
He could taste the anticipation in the air.
A loudspeaker crackled overhead.
"All first-year participants, prepare to enter the arena. Hero Course, please move to your designated starting positions."
Movement rippled through the hall.
Kimura exhaled. "Here we go."
Hana stretched her arms. "Let's not embarrass ourselves."
Tanaka adjusted his glasses. "Speak for yourself."
Yuta straightened, rolling his shoulders.
The massive steel doors began to open—bright sunlight spilling into the tunnel.
Everyone tensed.
'This is it.'
The sound them first.
A wall of noise—cheering, clapping, fireworks bursting overhead—slammed into him the moment they stepped out.
The stadium was a sea of color, faces blurring together in a massive mosaic of excitement.
Hundreds of cameras swiveled toward them.
Yuta squinted against the sun.
"NEXT UP. GENERAL STUDIES C, D AND E."
"NEXT. SUPPORT COURSE. F, G AND H."
"LASTLY. BUSINESS COURSE. I, J AND K."
The Hero Course walked confidently at the front. Midoriya. Bakugo. Todoroki.
General Studies followed behind.
Support Course after that.
Business Course brought up the rear.
Once everyone gathered, Midnight strutted onto the platform, microphone raised.
"WELCOME, EVERYONE—TO THE U.A. FIRST-YEAR SPORTS FESTIVAAAAAL!"
The stadium erupted.
"Quiet, everyone!" Midnight declared. "Representing the students, we have Katsuki Bakugo, from Class 1-A for the student pledge."
From here, Yuta could see Class 1-A's panicked reactions as Bakugo marched forward with all the grace of a lit fuse.
The crowd quieted into a tense silence.
Cameras zoomed in.
He grabbed the mic, leaned forward, and—
"I pledge ... To win."
Silence.
Then a beat.
"That's it."
The stadium erupted into chaos. Half the crowd booed. The other half laughed.
Midnight blinked. "Um—Bakugo, that's not exactly—"
"I said what I said." He turned and walked off the stage without waiting for permission. "At least become a soft, bouncy step to jump off." The combined classes had fallen into outrage.
Iida shot forward in the Class 1-A section, arms chopping violently. "BAKUGO! THAT WAS HIGHLY INAPPROPRIATE! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO REPRESENT—"
"Shut up, Four-Eyes!"
Upstairs, Aizawa sighed into his scarf. "…Why do I even bother."
Present Mic's voice crackled over the speakers, barely containing his laughter. "WELL! THAT WAS… SOMETHING! Bold strategy from the Class 1-A representative! Let's see if he can back it up!"
In the General Studies section, Kimura muttered, "…Did he just declare war on everyone?"
"Pretty much," Hana said flatly.
Tanaka adjusted his glasses. "Tactically inadvisable. He's made himself a target."
Yuta didn't react.
To say he had expected anything less would be an understatement.
Midnight cleared her throat, regaining control of the stage. "Right. Well then. Enough pledging and posturing! Let's get to what you're all here for—THE FIRST ROUND!"
The massive screens around the stadium lit up, displaying a rotating roulette of possible events.
The crowd leaned forward.
"The first game is what you'd call a qualifier. Every year, many drinks their tears here."
The wheel spun.
Spun.
Stopped.
"The first round is .."
OBSTACLE RACE
"This."
"All 11 classes will participate in this race. The course will be the circumference of this stadium. 4 kilometers."
"Our school's selling point is freedom. Which means ..." She licked her lips sadistically.
"As long as you stay within the course, it doesn't matter what you do. ... Now ... Take your places everyone."
Students began moving toward the starting gate in a steady current, Hero Course taking the lead, Support and General Studies folding into the mass behind them.
The large metal shutters along the stadium wall opened with a heavy clank, revealing a wide tunnel that led out toward the perimeter track.
"YOU'VE HEARD IT KIDS. ANYTHING GOES! RUN, FIGHT, EVADE, OUTMANEUVER! JUST MAKE IT TO THE FINISH! If you get knocked off the track—WELP! Better luck next year!"
"Four kilometers… seriously?"
"What kind of obstacles—"
"Hey, don't get crushed in the first five seconds—"
It seemed the nervous energy had peaked.
As the crowd noise swelled, Yuta adjusted his footing at the starting line—
—and felt someone staring at him.
Not the cameras.
Someone closer.
His eyes drifted sideways.
And there she was.
Toru Hagakure.
Class 1-A.
Gloves and boots visible.
The faint shimmer of light bending around an invisible face angled directly toward him.
For one perfect, painful second, they locked eyes.
Or… eye area.
Her gloves twitched in surprise.
Yuta immediately snapped his gaze forward like he hadn't seen anything.
Nope. Nope. Not doing that. Focus. Focus. Focus. She didn't see me—
Across the divider, Toru leaned toward her classmates.
"Hey—it's him." Her voice pitched up in irritation.
"Huh? What's up, Toru?" someone beside her asked.
"The jerk, that's what! He's right there! Hey—don't you ignore me—!"
Before she could finish, Midnight's voice exploded over the speakers:
"EVERYONE, ON YOUR MARK!"
Toru jolted, her protest cutting off mid-sentence.
Behind Yuta, Hana whispered with barely concealed nervousness.
"Yuta, you nervous?"
He shook his head once.
"Not really."
"What do you think your chances are?"
Yuta rolled his shoulders.
"High enough."
"GET SET!"
Three green lights came up. The first went dark, then the second ... Until finally. The last one died.
"GO!"
__
Enjoying the story? Want to read ahead?
Support the novel and unlock early access to unreleased chapters by joining my Patreon!
💧 WATER TIER (5$) – Read 3 chapters ahead of public releases
🌍 EARTH TIER ($7) – Read 5 chapters ahead, with bonus lore, author notes, and behind-the-scenes content
🔥 FIRE TIER ($10) – Read 8 chapters ahead, get full access to all extras, and vote in exclusive polls for bonus content
📎 Patreon.com/Future805
Even a small pledge makes a huge difference — thank you for reading