"Hmph. Bakugo, that guy… so he really chose to walk away at a time like this."
Watching Bakugo disappear down the hallway, Igarashi Masata could more or less guess what he was thinking.
Bakugo knew his own strength very clearly. He understood that, at least for now, he wasn't Masata's opponent. Instead of shouting empty threats here, it was better to figure out how to become stronger.
And besides—wasn't there still someone stronger in Class A who could shoulder the honor of the class?
Thinking this, Masata felt a surge of heroic passion rise in his chest.
He stepped forward heavily, facing the densely packed crowd, and spoke with blazing confidence:
"I'm Igarashi Masata, the class representative of Class A!"
"I don't care whether you're here to scout us out, watch the spectacle, or declare war!"
"But Class A will not back down!"
"If you want to fight—"
"Then come on! Let us be your opponents!"
As his words rang out, the noisy crowd fell silent.
At that moment, Masata's presence seemed to change. An invisible pressure radiated from him—commanding, overwhelming. It wasn't something that could be ignored. Some of the more timid students didn't even dare meet his fierce gaze.
"That's right!" Kirishima Eijiro shouted immediately, blood boiling.
"Our Class A won't be afraid of you either! Bring it on!"
Masata tilted his head slightly and smiled.
"So… can you let us go home now, classmates?"
Without waiting for an answer, he took Yaoyorozu Momo and Uraraka Ochaco by the hand and started forward. Almost unconsciously, the crowd parted, forming a narrow path for them.
"So… you stayed at my place last night?"
After walking all the way home together, Masata suddenly realized something felt off.
"Yes," Momo replied softly, a faint blush on her face. "Is that a problem?"
She stared at him intensely, as if daring him to say no.
"Hahaha—of course not! I'm more than happy," Masata laughed quickly, making the only correct choice.
"You just haven't stayed over in a long time since we grew up."
Back when they were in kindergarten, Momo used to stay at Masata's house all the time. After elementary school, those days gradually faded.
"Should I go downstairs and buy lunch?" Masata asked as the two girls sat on the sofa.
"Or should we just order delivery?"
When it came to cooking, Masata only knew the basics. Feeding himself was fine—but entertaining guests was another matter entirely. Washing dishes afterward was even worse. Whenever his parents weren't home, he usually just grabbed food from the supermarket.
"Honestly… two ladies in the house and you're talking about convenience food and delivery," Momo muttered, black lines practically forming on her forehead.
"No need. I'll be staying here for a few days. The family chef will deliver meals later," she said calmly.
"Just go downstairs and buy some drinks."
"That's great!" Masata beamed. "I'll benefit from that too. I'll head down now."
When Masata entered the convenience store downstairs, he immediately felt something was off.
"…Why is it empty?"
The store was completely deserted. Normally, business here was booming—crowded almost to the point of discomfort.
"Well, I'll just grab some orange juice and milk."
Momo had loved milk since she was a child. Because of her Quirk, high-calorie foods were never an issue. Whether her impressive development had anything to do with that was… debatable.
"Thank you for your patronage. Your total comes to 1,540 yen."
A strange voice spoke from the counter.
"Huh?" Masata looked up. "Did the clerk change?"
The face behind the register wasn't familiar at all.
"Ah—yes," the clerk replied politely.
"It's my first day here. Please take care of me."
He was a young man wearing a peaked cap pulled low, long bangs completely hiding his eyes.
"Ah… okay," Masata said awkwardly.
"This shop's been here for years, so it just felt strange seeing someone new. Sorry if that sounded rude."
He handed over 1,600 yen. "You can keep the change."
While waiting, Masata absentmindedly glanced at a poster near the wall.
"Shenmu Hospital welcomes you. Address—"
Before he could read further, the clerk handed him the change. Not wanting the two girls to wait too long at home, Masata turned and left the store quickly.
He didn't notice the faint, satisfied smile that appeared at the corner of the clerk's mouth as he walked away.
Not long after Masata returned home, the doorbell rang. A lavish meal had arrived.
With his body still desperately craving energy, Masata ate without restraint. Since the other two weren't exactly outsiders, he didn't bother maintaining any sort of image.
"Momo," Masata asked casually while eating,
"how well do you think you'll place in the Sports Festival?"
Momo paused, then sighed slightly.
"I honestly don't know. I feel confident in my abilities, but I can't prepare items in advance. In an open arena, opponents won't just let me use my Quirk comfortably."
Masata waved his hand dismissively.
"Don't worry. Your close-combat skills alone are enough to overwhelm most people. Just trust your judgment."
He turned to Ochaco.
"What about you, Chacha?"
"I'm not sure…" Ochaco admitted nervously.
"I'm not very good at using my Quirk on living creatures."
"Can you make the ground beneath your feet float?" Masata asked curiously.
"Of course not!" she replied immediately.
"I can only make about three tons weightless right now. It sounds like a lot, but it's not that impressive when it's just rocks."
"Then can you control objects after making them weightless? Like telekinesis?"
"I've tried," Ochaco shook her head.
"Maybe I haven't developed my Quirk enough… or maybe it just can't do that. I can only make things float."
Masata thought for a long time.
"…Yeah. Improving a Quirk really is hard."
"In that case, focus on combat training. If you can touch your opponent, the match can be decided instantly."
After all, the final rounds were one-on-one arena battles. If Ochaco could make her opponent weightless, pushing them out of bounds would be easy. This wasn't life-or-death combat—strategy absolutely mattered.
"Yes," Momo said decisively.
"There are still twenty days. We'll train together."
The plan was set.