//caps HEY!!! REALLY QUICK, CHECK BEFORE THE ENDING IIDA CALL OF LAST CHAPTER—I FORGOT TO ADD A FIGHT AND I AM SO,,,,,,,, MAD AT MYSELF,,,,,,,,, SORRY (it's todoroki v. ashido,,,, it aint much BUT STILL HOW DID I FORGET,,,,,,,,, ITS IN MY N O T E S)

anyway enjoy this,,,,,, monstrosity of a chapter. sorry the end's rushed; i've been working on this in all the free time i have and because i do monthly updates usually, my mind is Fried

===

From the second Shoda Nirengeki had shown his last attacks to the moment he was knocked out, Ochako knew that she's maybe, kind of, probably screwed. She might've not ever had a chance in the first place considering that her opponent if Shoda lost—and he had—would soon be Bakugo. And, well... Bakugo, of all people, wouldn't want to lose now.

But it's still terrifying, this sudden hopelessness that dawns on her. (How can she even be a hero—how could a hero choose her—if she can't even improvise off of this?)

She... well. Ochako can't exactly come up with a plan against Bakugo. She wouldn't have the energy to match Bakugo's strength or stamina, so she can't outlast him. And if she used her Quirk on him, that'd just give him an aerial advantage, right? After all, Bakugo could just propel himself with his explosions, and Ochako would be stuck on the ground. With the plan she originally had, to slam down debris like Shoda did...

It could've worked, but that wouldn't look good to the heroes—or anyone, really—as they would just call her a copycat or something and won't look at her. Also, he's already probably thought of a defense mechanism against an attack like Shoda's for someone else with a similar Quirk or move...

Ochako sighs miserably in the small break room, opening her eyes that had closed as she simply thought. If Iida were here, he'd tell her to not worry or something, to think logically. He's gone due to some emergency, though, which she can respect. And Midoriya would tell her a plan, maybe. He'd ramble about Bakugo's weaknesses to her, but he's still with the rest of the class, respecting her decision to think alone about this stuff.

A moment later, she scoots her chair back, internally wincing at the screech of its legs against the floor. She takes a breath, looks up at the ceiling for a second, and then gets up in search of Shoda.

She won't change her plan. It's the best one she's got, the one with the highest chance to win—the one that'll hopefully make her goal of helping her parents out closer. She'll just... go and see if it's alright with Shoda first.*

===

Though Ochako had to get through Monoma's antics to even talk to Shoda, she did eventually manage to do so. His approval of her inspiring an attack after him sits in her mind, comforting. She takes a breath, looking at Bakugo's red eyes from across the stage, and feels a wave of fear threaten to lock her limbs in place.

...It's fine. Recovery Girl's here, and no matter the outcome of the battle, Ochako will be noticed. She'll do her best here, and it'll be enough.

And then, she charges in, hoping that she and Shoda were right.

===

Once Ochako explains her situation as well as her original plan to him, the first thing that Shoda told her was: "I think you're worrying about this too much." Ochaco blinks at him, surprise scrawled all over her face. Shoda cracks a nervous smile to her.

"Is that confusing?" He asks. "Sorry, I'm... not too good with words. But, um—you remember the original purpose of the Sports Festival, right?"

"It's..." Ochako pauses, contemplative. "It's to show our abilities, right?"

Shoda nods. "Do you know why I was fine with losing against Bakugo?"

"...Because you were..."

("...Even if you don't do well, be glad you made it here, eh? And if you know you aren't gonna do well, lose in the best possible way that shines a light of potential on you, alright?")

(Ah. That's what Ochako had forgotten. To be glad that she's even made it this far; that against all odds, she's beaten hundreds of other U.A. students and has made it to the last few rounds. She doesn't need to stand out as a potential hero, or think that she's not enough for them yet; she already is.

She's not supposed to beat everyone immediately, either. She's still a student. [A kid who survived the USJ and forgot she was one.] At this rate, she'll help her parents out soon—something that isn't a dream, but an inevitability.

And little by little, her disappointment recedes.)

Ochako's eyes widen with hope as she points at him. "You showed what you could do! It doesn't matter if you lost or won—you still showed potential, and so heroes will look at you anyway!"

"Exactly!" Shoda says, smiling at her softly. "Sure, winning the Festival would've been a great bonus, but I know I'm not capable of that." Ochako opens her mouth to protest that he was up against Bakugo, of all students, but she quiets when he continues. "It's better to go with a lower place, really, to not have so much attention placed on you by everyone, you know? That sets more expectations. By playing like this, I'll at least have the attention of some heroes, which is better than none at all.

"So, um..." Shoda pauses. "Worry more about using your Quirk to the fullest, and not about winning. ...If that makes sense."

Ochako beams at him brightly, her hands flapping in her excitement. "It does, it does!" She exclaims. "Thank you!"

Shoda smiles at her again. "No problem. ...You can build off what I did, by the way. Shows your abilities in the best way possible, right?"

"Right!"*

===

"Thank you, Shoda!" Ochako shouts, pressing her fingertips together. As the audience around the stadium looks up, seeing the grand result of her resilience and seemingly foolish charges into Bakugo's attacks, a chorus of gasps rings aloud. She can't help but smile even as nausea whirls in her gut and head, letting the torrent of debris hail down.

And in a burst of brilliant light and heat and pure sound that breaks her ears and blinds her vision and encompasses her fully, Ochako knows that it didn't work.

Of course it wouldn't—Ochako knew this, she's embraced it, she's prepared for it—but the slight sting of failure is still there, found in the ashes of the explosion Bakugo makes to destroy all the rubble, falling around them like a heavy blanket of smoke.

Her skin is littered with bruises, dirt, and ash, one of her fingernails chipped and bleeding. Nausea swims like an ocean in a thunderstorm in her head, threatening to turn into vomit that bubbles in her throat. She can barely stand, her knees almost buckling in on themselves as she tries to crouch down to get some rubble, maybe to use it as a crutch, a weapon—anything.

She can't. Not without falling, that is. But oddly enough, Ochako's fine with that. With the last bits of her energy, she finds herself... smiling. Laughing, even, her throat low to avoid the minor burns on her throat.

"...Was fun," she manages after a weak chuckle, her voice strained as she tries to stay awake. Her ears are ringing and ringing, no doubt due to the loud burst of sound. Vision blurry, she looks around, eyes landing on a blob that's surely Bakugo's still-standing form. She gives him a grin, even if it pulls at the burns on her face and makes her want to hurl. "Did m' best, righ'?"

Because she did. She gave it her all, and she's gotten this far. She's beaten a majority of U.A. students to get here. Even if the majority of heroes gloss her over—even if the day she helps her parents is leagues farther—she'll be proud of herself, at least, for how long she stood on this stage.

Ochako doesn't hear a response to her rhetorical question if there is one, her eyes finally fluttering closed as her body collapses on the ruined platform.*

===

(After she wakes up in Recovery Girl's infirmary, clear skin where burns, scratches, and bruises once littered, Ochako gets the OK from the hero-nurse to walk around, so long as she doesn't strain herself. She decides to go into a waiting room, and after Tommy and Izuku make sure she's alright, she calls back her dad because she'd missed his call.

They're proud of her, Ochako's parents. They're fine with her taking more time before she can help them. That kind of compassion is going to make her a great hero, her dad says.

And Ochako can't help but let all of her fears melt away into a smile as she cries.)

===

When they're far from Uraraka's earshot, Tommy sighs. "Think she's really alright?" He asks, voice soft.

"No," Izuku immediately responds, quiet but resolute. When Tommy looks at him, his hair shadows his eyes, his fists clenched. "She isn't. No one would be. But Uraraka—she wants to be left alone. So we have to leave."

Tommy hums, ignoring the way Izuku wipes his eyes. He glances back up—and almost bumps into the sheer fucking hulk that is Endeavor as they round the corner. If he remembers right, the man's like the number two hero or something. Izuku doesn't like rambling about him; at least, not positively.

Even if Izuku liked him, Tommy wouldn't have. The vibes he feels from Endeavor are so fucking shitty. From appearance alone, it's no surprise that he doesn't care about property damage and the lives of civilians in the way of his work. Tommy scowls at the flaming man, absolutely loathing how Endeavor's taller than him. Subtly, he shifts in front of Izuku, who gets his memo and stays back.

"Oh, there you are," Endeavor says, completely ignoring Tommy to look at Izuku. Tommy's scowl worsens, especially when he points and starts saying: "I watched your fight, the one against the Iida's other legacy. You have a wonderful Quirk, what with it so much wind pressure just by flicking your fingers. If we were talking about power alone, yours is comparable to All Might's."

Izuku's a horribly bad liar, so Tommy shifts to cover him more in case he flinched or something. "Get to the point, fucko," he snarls, already beginning to lead Izuku away. All the while, he never lets his eyes stray from Endeavor, practically challenging him when they make eye-contact.

Endeavor's eyes narrow in anger. Tommy smiles back, all sharp teeth and deadly threats that he can spin into promises.

The "hero" sighs, irritated. "It is my Shoto's duty to surpass All Might. His upcoming match with you will be a very instructive test bed. Don't disgrace yourself."

That hits something in Izuku. Tommy looks back to find him fucking fuming, his fists clenched tighter than they already were. There's an equally tight smile on his face as he looks at Endeavor, one pulling at his face so unnaturally anyone could notice he's not actually happy. "Todoroki is not you," he grits through his teeth, "just like I am not All Might. Is that all, sir?"

"...Yes," Endeavor says with scrutinizing eyes. "That is all."

Izuku's smile widens, clearly wanting to say more. There's already an infinite amount of things woven between Izuku's words that Tommy can't read, all based off of things he doesn't know. But he doesn't, instead continuing to walk down the corridor. Tommy hesitates, giving Endeavor one last disdainful glance before following his friend.

(Once they're out of earshot of that man, the first thing Izuku mumbles is: "If he weren't the number two hero—or a hero at all—I would've flamed him like you did Shinsou." A pause. "Or doused him. Knock him down a handful of steps. Whichever's best."

Tommy breaks out into a grin. Prime, he's really become a bad influence.)

===

We're gonna do the same thing with Yao-Momo, right? The whole charge-in thing that we originally thought of?

Fumikage subtly nods, no more than a simple incline of his head as he walks onto the battlegrounds once more. Just like Kaminari, her creations are unpredictable. To snuff it out like a candlelight in the dark before it can drop to the wooden floor is most preferable.

Alright! Just making sure.

Dark Shadow hums a jaunty tune in their combined conscious, no doubt happier than usual. It must be from their position as a potential contestant for the finale of the Sports Festival. Fumikage finds himself agreeing; though their cooperation is unparalleled, is it fascinating that it has lifted them this far.

Oh, have a little more faith in us! Just accept that we're strong, Fumi!

Yes, yes, Fumikage long has. There is indisputable proof that resides in the remnants of USJ and of all the others they have overcome thus far. Undeniably, Dark Shadow preens at the many they have fallen, especially for those whose experience overpowers theirs.

Finally rising to the platform, Fumikage meets the eyes of Yaoyorozu who stands with a pinched smile. Dark Shadow stirs, preparing to take shape in an instant.

Just like with their previous match, when the start of the battle is called, they waste no time. Dark Shadow manifests once more in a conglomeration of shadow and void, continuing to unify the darkness until it become a hulking mass of the abyss, its talons sharpened. Without preamble and in tandem, Fumikage and Dark Shadow rush forwards, aiming for a quick match.

Yaoyorozu does not make a shield. She does not make a weapon. She creates a sort of... handle, its black steel contrasting against her pale skin as it settles in her dominant hand. From what Fumikage can see, it has a lampshade-like front, its interior white, a sheet of what could be glass covering what is inside. Fumikage's eyes widen in a realization, his feet threatening to skid to a halt because—

—No! If I can reach a little farther, I can knock it out of—!

"Close your eyes, everyone!"

—and then, an explosion of white blinds their senses.

Dark Shadow screeches, its cry warbling in the air. Fumikage cannot see it at all, can only feel when it moves to cover him in its darkness before hitting its limit and being forced back into him. A click rings aloud, meaning that Yaoyorozu certainly has turned the flashlight off, but as of now, it makes no difference.

Fumikage blinks rapidly to no avail, harsh monochromacy consuming all he can see. He finds that he has stumbled back, his arms in front of him, balance unsteady as he tries to regain himself. Splotches of color come and go, none of it helping when the end of a polearm slams into his chest and knocks his breath away.

Dark Shadow manifests again as pain starts pulsing throughout Fumikage's chest, though its form is visibly shrunken and thinned, its shadows dancing on the line between translucent and opaque. Futilely, it blocks a strike from Yaoyorozu's polearm, only able to push that single strike back before being hit by another.

It is all too soon that they are pushed back, Fumikage's foot slipping past the boundary line. Midnight calls the end of the match, maybe. He cannot tell, still reeling from his disorganized senses.

"Oh dear God I shouldn't have used an Imalent,"** a familiar voice bemoans. "A hundred-thousand lumens?! Really, Momo?! That was what you decided was best?! I should've asked if Tokoyami himself was sensitive to light, or, or something! Oh no, oh no oh no oh no..." A hand sets itself on Fumikage's shoulder; involuntarily, he flinches, and the hand reels back.

Fumikage blinks some more. Soon, he can vaguely make out the form of Yaoyorozu, of whom is hovering around him worriedly. "Um, um... a-are you—no, foolish question—do you need my assistance? Anything? Is Dark Shadow alright?" Her words are spoken hastily, barely any time between words. Though Fumikage knows she means well, the noise makes his mind grate in displeasure.

Despite this, he manages. "I am... stable," Fumikage quietly decides, color once again returning to his vision. The spots haven't left, however, and so he rubs his eyes. "Dark Shadow must have taken most of the light for me. Speaking of..."

Dark Shadow?

...I-I'm. I'm alright. Tell Y-Yao-Momo that she's g-good. And that I'll b-be fine. I'll recover. And to not blame h-herself for anything. N-Nothing permanent was done!

Fumikage hums, soon relaying the report to their opponent. Yaoyorozu relaxes, but there is still a tense line to her shoulders, a strain in the smile that she gives him. "That's good," she says. "That's good."

Immediately after, she bows and blurts out, "Still, I'm so sorry! I-I should've considered the dangers of using a bright flashlight like that on people, let alone you and Dark Shadow, and—!"

"It is alright," Fumikage placates. "It was simply quick-thinking. A little... too quick, yes, but vital to heroics nonetheless."

"Right! Yeah! Should've used a duller flashlight, though..." Yaoyorozu smiles sheepishly with a dark blush on her cheeks, fiddling with the flashlight in her hands. She then freezes, promptly shoving it in her uniform's pocket before looking at it like it were something cursed. Incredulously, her flush grows worse. Yaoyorozu shoves her presumable embarrassment aside to add, "U-Um, Recovery Girl should probably check on your eyes. And Dark Shadow's condition. So... follow me?"

Fumikage nods, the last of the darkness finally leaving his eyes, leaving a sort of blurriness in its wake. Yaoyorozu takes that as an initiative to move ahead, looking back as if expecting him to follow. And follow he does, letting Dark Shadow heal in the darkness that the corridors provide.

===

Eijirou's not gonna lie; he's extremely nervous, going up against Midoriya. Watching him fight Iida... it was manly as hell, yeah, but also absolutely extraordinary and very humbling. As in, miles-out-of-Eijirou's-ability extraordinary, which also knocked a few pegs off the egos of those who were arrogant. How did either of them know what was going on? All he saw were like. Blurs. And the occasional moments where they stopped to breathe or something, but still.

Anyway! The point is that Eijirou is definitely not matching Midoriya in speed, of all things. Maybe not endurance either, because his body can handle pushing out enough power to shatter concrete and then some. Eijirou's body has always been durable, but not that strong. Probably never will be.

No time for any of that, not when he's on the platform! Eijirou cracks his knuckles subconsciously, shooting a friendly grin at Midoriya when he notices the sound. Midoriya manages to grin back, but it's a little awkward. Guess he's still not used to being the center of attention.

Contrary to his expression, though, Midoriya bursts forward when the battle begins. Eijirou can only be thankful that he has quick reflexes as he barely manages to block a strike with his forearm, his Quirk already reinforcing it. With difficulty, Eijirou throws whatever Midoriya hit him with far back, watching his opponent skid back in a low crouch.

Midoriya's in an entirely different position in moments, coming in on his right with a sharp kick aimed for his kidney. The block Eijirou does is a bit awkward, only having enough time to tuck the side of his elbow into his side and reinforce that part of him. It stings so much it feels like it burns, his arm feeling weak and limp. Eijirou winces; that was not a good idea.