Matches seven and eight of the first round confirmed what Mineta had calculated.
Todoroki versus Kendo lasted three minutes.
Kendo was technically solid: her enlarged hands gave her considerable physical control range, and her understanding of close combat was good enough that any opponent relying purely on direct force would have real trouble. She had entered the tournament as part of the best Cavalry Battle team in terms of tactical coordination, and that said something about how she processed problems under pressure.
The problem was Todoroki.
Not the Todoroki from earlier in the day, who had entered the Obstacle Race with his left side completely inactive and his right side as his only tool. The Todoroki who stepped into the ring against Kendo was someone who had spent several hours increasingly using his fire, and there was something in the way he moved that was different: more integrated, as if the two halves of his body had begun communicating in a way they hadn't before.
Kendo noticed it within the first thirty seconds and adjusted her strategy toward distance control: if she could remain outside the simultaneous range of ice and fire, Todoroki would be forced to choose what to use and when, reducing his versatility advantage.
It was a correct analysis.
It wasn't enough, because Todoroki didn't choose between ice and fire. He used them in such rapid sequence that the distinction became almost irrelevant: ice on the ground to fix position, fire to force movement, ice again to capture that forced movement.
Kendo crossed the boundary on the third exchange.
Todoroki stepped down from the ring with his usual calm, although from the waiting area Mineta noticed that his left hand now rested in a completely natural position, without the earlier tension of something unsure of its place.
The process that began with Midoriya in the Cavalry Battle, Mineta thought. It's happening in real time. Each fight integrates it a little more.
Bakugo versus Ashido lasted two minutes.
Not because Ashido wasn't competent—she was. Her acid-coated soles for traction control combined with her lateral speed made her one of the most difficult opponents to hit for anyone relying on projectiles or straight-line force.
Bakugo relied on neither.
Bakugo relied on omnidirectional explosions that made the concept of a "straight line" irrelevant, because he could change direction midair without needing the ground.
Ashido had seen it in the Cavalry Battle, had processed it, and entered the fight with a specific strategy: maintain constant movement, never stay in the same position for more than a second, force Bakugo to expend energy on continuous adjustments until the margin of error in those adjustments created an opening.
It was a strategy that would have worked against almost any other opponent.
Bakugo did not expend energy on adjustments. Bakugo anticipated.
Ashido changed direction four times in the first forty seconds.
Bakugo followed all four—not reacting to the movement, but arriving at the point where the next movement would be.
On the fifth change of direction, Bakugo was already there.
The downward-directed explosion created a pressure wave that destabilized Ashido without needing direct contact, and that imbalance carried her out of the ring before she could compensate.
Ashido landed outside the boundary and remained for a second looking at the ring from below with the expression of someone who had processed exactly what had happened and had no complaints about it.
— Good — she said, to no one in particular.
Bakugo didn't look at her. He was already stepping down from the ring, looking forward.
Present Mic:
— BAKUGO KATSUKI ADVANCES IN LESS THAN TWO MINUTES! AS IF THE INDIVIDUAL FESTIVAL WERE A NATURAL EXTENSION OF HIS NORMAL STATE!
Aizawa:
— For him, it probably is.
The second-round bracket was defined:
SECOND ROUND — UPPER HALF
Match 1: Kirishima Eijiro vs. Ibara Shiozaki
Match 2: Iida Tenya vs. Mineta Minoru
SECOND ROUND — LOWER HALF
Match 3: Yaoyorozu Momo vs. Asui Tsuyu
Match 4: Todoroki Shoto vs. Bakugo Katsuki
Mineta read the bracket.
Then he read it again.
Match two. Iida.
And match four: Todoroki versus Bakugo.
That last pairing carried a specific weight that Mineta processed calmly, but which was real nonetheless. In the original canon, that match had existed and had been the kind of fight that remained in the Festival's memory for years. Here, in this Festival, with Todoroki having started using fire since the Cavalry Battle rather than from his fight against Midoriya in the tournament, the dynamic was different.
Todoroki enters that match more integrated than he did in canon. Bakugo enters being exactly Bakugo.
I don't know what that specific combination produces. But I'll see it if I reach the semifinals.
First: Iida.
The break between the first and second rounds lasted fifteen minutes.
Enough to hydrate, to let the body register its overall condition, and for the mind to process what had happened and what was about to happen.
Mineta used the first five minutes to evaluate his shoulders, which were still protesting from the impact against Shoji but showed no structural damage, and to think about Iida.
Iida versus Yoarashi had lasted four minutes and had ended with Iida finding the correct angle at the correct moment. What Mineta had observed was this: Iida planned, Iida executed the plan, and when the plan needed adjustment, Iida adjusted it with that rigor of his that was not rigidity but precision.
Iida's speed with his engines active was the greatest in the tournament. There was no debate about that.
The sphere-covered ground against Shoji had worked because Shoji needed firm support to move his mass. Iida with engines did not depend on ground support in the same way: the thrust came from the legs, yes, but once active, the body was partially airborne with each stride.
How much less?
Mineta thought through the physics.
Engines generate thrust. Thrust moves the body. The ground is the initial support point, but once thrust is active, the body is partially in the air during each step. Ground contact is brief—impulse, not continuous support.
So compromised ground works against direction changes, not straight-line speed.
What does that do to the plan?
Mineta adjusted mentally.
Don't seed uniformly. Seed natural turning points: ring angles, curvature points. If turning becomes costly, Iida must choose between predictable straight speed or imprecise turns.
Predictable is manageable. Imprecise is dangerous for both.
Which does Iida choose under pressure?
Mineta thought of Iida.
Efficiency.
Then the plan must work even if he turns.
If I can predict his trajectory more accurately than he can under unstable footing, I gain positional advantage.
Not force. Position.
The ring is the field. The field is mine if I control the ground.
The fifteen minutes ended.
Mineta looked at the ring.
It works. Not perfectly. But it works.
Work with what you have.
Kirishima versus Shiozaki was the first second-round match and lasted seven minutes—the longest so far.
Not because either was clearly superior, but because their strengths neutralized each other almost perfectly.
Shiozaki's vines could restrain and bind. Against most opponents, that was enough.
Kirishima's hardening changed that: the vines could trap him, but not fully immobilize him without time to build sufficient density.
Kirishima's counter-problem was that hardening worked best against solid targets, while vines were flexible, distributed, and absorbed impact.
The first four minutes were Shiozaki covering the ring with vines and Kirishima breaking those that got close enough while advancing more slowly than he would have liked.
The turning point came when Kirishima stopped trying to break them and instead used them as support: fully hardened, partially restrained, he advanced by using the tension of the vines themselves as leverage for momentum.
It was a solution Shiozaki had not anticipated.
Kirishima reached her—and the impact forced her out of bounds.
The vines loosened when her control broke with the loss of balance.
Present Mic:
— KIRISHIMA EIJIRO ADVANCES TO THE SEMIFINALS USING HIS OPPONENT'S RESTRAINTS AS A SPRINGBOARD!
Aizawa:
— He found direction in the restraint. The vines pulled toward Shiozaki. He used that direction.
— When did he decide that?
— During the fight. …That's the hard part to teach.
The second match of the round was Iida versus Mineta.
Mineta stepped onto the ring with his shoulders still carrying the memory of impact, with an adjusted plan, and with the attention of someone who knew enough to know he didn't know everything.
Iida stood across from him, posture straight, expression focused, discipline genuine.
They looked at each other.
Present Mic:
— SECOND MATCH! IIDA TENYA VS MINETA MINORU!
Aizawa:
— Speed versus field control.
Midnight raised her arm.
— Begin!
Mineta moved first.
Four spheres—corners.
Four more—midpoints.
Iida watched.
Then engines ignited.
Mineta switched—center diagonal.
No clean path.
Iida chose straight speed.
Too fast.
Base plan fails.
Adjust.
Mineta moved laterally.
Iida passed—clipped a sphere.
Minimal contact.
Trajectory shifted half a meter.
Enough.
Closer to edge.
Iida braked.
He noticed.
Mineta attacked that moment.
Five spheres—ground, sides, torso.
Intercept. Landed. Contained.
Iida evaluated.
Then advanced—controlled speed.
Expected.
Precision exchange.
Steps counted.
Two meters.
Torso hit landed.
Iida compensated.
Mineta shifted axis again.
Iida turned.
Imperfect.
Foot hit sphere.
Instability.
Mineta charged.
Low.
Lateral push.
Impact during imbalance.
Iida stepped—
Another sphere.
Second imbalance.
Next step—
Out.
Midnight raised her arm.
— Out of bounds! Mineta advances to the semifinals!
The stadium paused.
Then Present Mic:
— MINETA MINORU DEFEATS IIDA TENYA! HE'S IN THE SEMIFINALS!
Aizawa:
— He attacked the field, not the opponent. That's combat understanding.
Mineta stepped down.
Pain increased.
Tomorrow will hurt.
Iida approached.
— Well executed.
— You adapted well.
— But you had another answer.
— Yes.
— How many layers?
— Two.
— And if both failed?
— I would improvise.
Iida nodded.
— That's what I lacked.
— Next time, you'll have it.
Iida nodded again—and left.
Mineta returned to the waiting area.
Semifinals.
Match 1: Kirishima vs winner of Yaoyorozu/Asui
Match 2: Mineta vs winner of Todoroki/Bakugo
Todoroki or Bakugo.
Both counter field control differently.
No single plan.
Wait.
Observe.
Kaminari:
— …Mineta is in the semifinals.
Silence.
— When did that happen?
— The last two fights.
— No—I mean when did Mineta become someone who reaches semifinals?
No answer.
Kirishima smiled.
Mineta didn't respond.
But something settled again.
Semifinals.
In canon, Mineta never reached this point.
I'm here.
Now work.
End of Episode 36.