I'm jolted awake by Present Mic's voice, blaring through the stadium like a war horn.
"And that's time, folks!"
Groaning, I sit up and stretch.
"Remind me to never fall asleep near that guy... I'm pretty sure he could wake the dead."
I yawn deeply, my mind still sluggish from the nap. But duty calls.
Grabbing the mic, I begin with my usual flair.
"Well, well, well... looks like we've got ourselves some winners."
My voice is still heavy with sleep, not unlike Aizawa's, but I don't bother masking it.
"As promised, I'll now explain the rules of the final event. After that, we'll take a short intermission while the arena is being prepared."
Before I can begin the rule rundown, a hand shoots up—Mashirao Ojiro.
My half-awake brain takes a second to catch on. I raise a brow.
"You dropping out, kid?" I ask bluntly, shooting Shinso a glance.
Gasps ripple through the audience, both students and spectators.
"Yes, sir," Ojiro confirms. "I don't even remember how I won."
I catch Shinso looking away, guilt etched into his features.
A small, unseen smirk tugs at my lips.
'Stupid kid… don't use your power if you're going to regret it.'
"Very well. A commendable decision. Anyone else?"
Another student raises his hand—Nirengeki Shoda from Class 1-B. He also forfeits.
"With two spots now open," I continue, "the team in fifth place must nominate two members."
Just like in canon, Shiozaki Ibara and Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu are nominated.
I quickly run through the final event rules and wrap up.
"Alright everyone! A short intermission before the main event!"
The audience cheers and begins to disperse.
'Huh… wonder if the food court here's any good.'
I scoop up Yukei and glance at Mirko.
"Food court?"
She shrugs. "Sure."
Without warning, I grab her by the neck—not harshly—and dash off at high speed, aiming to beat the crowd. Judging by everyone's stunned reactions, they're still not used to my antics.
Food Court
I gently set Mirko down and glance at her face, expecting a reaction. Instead, I'm met with stoic indifference as she walks to the cashier.
I pout—just a bit.
She notices immediately, grinning in victory.
"Damn rabbit," I mutter, earning a wider grin.
From my shoulder, I hear a soft chuckle—Yukei. I ignore her.
Stepping up beside Mirko, I place my order on the same tab, then make a show of patting myself down.
"Oh no," I say dramatically, face twisted in mock distress. "I seem to have forgotten my wallet. Mirko, be a dear and help a poor soul afford his meal?"
I fold my hands as if in prayer, laying it on thick.
She scoffs but pays anyway. "Idiot."
We collect our food and head to a table. Yukei settles near the platter of desserts I set down.
I glance at Mirko's tray—ramen, same as me.
"So? How's the festival treating you?" I ask between bites.
She scoffs. "As expected. Just a bunch of kids playing hero."
Before I can respond, the crowd trickles into the food court—students and spectators alike.
"No one catch your eye?" I press. "Why not take on an intern? Might make you nicer."
Her victorious grin vanishes. "A few are promising," she says. "But I'd rather spend my time with you."
Yukei stops mid-bite. I blink.
'What the hell…?'
Mirko catches my frozen expression. "What?"
Recovering, I smirk. "I'm touched. The great Mirko, Number Five Hero, choosing my company. I'm honored."
I bow from my seat, looking mock-serious.
She blushes—just barely. Probably undetectable to anyone without sharp eyes.
"That's not what I meant, you punk!" she snaps, slamming the table and standing up.
Heads turn. Curious stares from students and civilians alike.
I raise one hand toward her, the other covering my face. "Forgive me, oh mighty Mirko. I forgot my place…"
A fake tear rolls down my cheek as I dramatically unveil a sorrowful expression.
Mirko trembles, fists clenched. "You... you..."
I maintain my pose for a few seconds longer until I can't hold it anymore. I fall backward, rolling on the floor in hysterics.
Some bystanders watch with amusement.
'Are they filming a soap opera?' I imagine them thinking.
Mirko sits back down, scowling, avoiding my gaze. Eventually, I compose myself and take my seat again.
I taste the ramen and nod. "Pretty good. Yours?"
"I'm not talking to you."
Her irritation seems more real now—less playful.
I rub the back of my neck. "Hey… I was just kidding."
"Hmph."
'Guess I took it too far,' I think. 'She's being way too obvious...'
But that thought leads me down a path I don't want to explore just yet.
'My time in this world is limited. I'll have to leave eventually…'
Thankfully, an interruption saves us from the awkward silence.
Four students approach: Midoriya, Uraraka, Tsuyu, and Ida.
They slow as they near, then bow.
"T-Thank you for saving us, sir…" Midoriya says nervously.
'Must look odd to outsiders—four teens bowing to a guy like me.'
"Kensou. Call me Kensou," I reply.
"Y-Yes, sir Kensou. Thank you again…"
"Drop the 'sir.'" I continue eating.
"Y-Yes s—uh…"
I snort. "You're welcome. If that's all, off you go."
Three of them begin turning, but Midoriya hesitates.
He gathers courage and blurts out, "H-How are you so strong?"
I give him a long look, watching him shrink under my gaze.
Smirking, I say, "What do you think?"
He ponders before offering the obvious. "I-Is it your quirk…?"
"Sure, my 'quirk' makes my body strong. But that's not what I meant."
He frowns in confusion.
I decide to help—just a bit. Even if it means spouting nonsense.
"What's your quirk, kid?"
He stiffens. "Physical enhancement. But… it breaks my limbs when I use it."
His friends wince.
"That the reason for your confidence issues?"
He nods.
"You're using it wrong."
He blinks.
"Ever seen a quirk that actively hurts the user?"
I think of multiple. 'Dabi's Blueflame, Shigaraki's decay, Nine's weather manipulation and a perfect example being the quirk Lady Nagant is given by All for One, making her literally self-destruct.'
They can be managed to a certain extent, but they're still harmful.
I smirk inwardly. 'Well it's fine, I only need to make up some wise sage nonsense. He can disprove it later.'
He thinks, shakes his head.
"You're an All Might fanboy, aren't you?"
His blush is confirmation enough.
"That's your problem. You're copying someone else's moves with power you can't handle."
I lean in, tone sharper. "Why use 100% with every move? It's a physical enhancement quirk, right? Try using 1%. Spread it across your body evenly. Learn to feel it out."
Midoriya freezes, clearly deep in thought.
'That'll nudge him along. Maybe he'll handle the Stain fight better now.'
"You kids should get going. The next round's starting."
The three drag a frozen Midoriya away. I chuckle.
Mirko glances at me, arms crossed. "Since when are you a teacher?"
I smile. 'At least she's talking to me again.'
"I've been teaching you, haven't I?"
She scoffs. "You call daily beatdowns teaching?"
"Would you prefer theory lessons?"
"Tsk. Whatever, punk."
'She really is a tsundere,' I muse.
A voice on the PA announces the next event. Round of 16.
"Time to get moving," I say, standing. We return our dishes and walk back toward the arena.
This time, I don't grab her. She walks beside me in silence.
Reaching the announcer's podium, I glance at the matchups.
'Just like canon. Predictable, but necessary.'
I raise the mic. "First match! Midoriya Izuku of Class 1-A versus Hitoshi Shinso from General Studies!
Let's make some noise!"
The crowd erupts.
Beside me, Mirko looks puzzled as I murmur, "I have a good feeling about this one…"
Whatever happens next, I know one thing—my reward is coming.