Chapter 28: Shadows in the Hallway and The Silent Resignation.
The adrenaline of the Cavalry Battle had finally receded, leaving behind a hollow ache in the muscles and a gnawing hunger in the gut. The U.A. cafeteria was a cavernous hall of noise, a cacophony of clinking cutlery, boisterous laughter, and the thick, savory scent of curry and fried pork that hung in the air like a heavy blanket.
At a large rectangular table near the floor-to-ceiling windows, Team Kuma sat together. While Midoriya picked nervously at his katsudon and Uraraka nursed a modest bowl of rice to settle her stomach, Bartholomew Kuma sat before a spread that would have fed a small family.
It was an architectural marvel of nutrition. Three towering bowls of white rice, glistening with steam. Two whole grilled mackerels, their skin charred to perfection. A platter of tonkatsu, golden and crispy. And a mound of steamed broccoli that looked like a miniature forest.
Kuma ate with a terrifying, rhythmic precision. There was no gluttony in his motion, only cold efficiency. He would pick up a piece of fish, place it on the rice, and consume it. Clack. Chew. Swallow. Repeat. It was like watching a machine refuel.
"Umm... Kuma-kun?"
Uraraka stared at the tower of empty bowls beginning to stack up next to his tray. She held her chopsticks in mid-air, her eyes wide. "Is that... a little more than usual? Even for you? Are you okay?"
Kuma paused. He placed his chopsticks down neatly on the ceramic rest. He picked up a napkin and dabbed the corner of his mouth with practiced dignity.
"The Cavalry Battle was demanding," Kuma replied, his deep voice barely audible over the roar of the cafeteria. "Flying requires mass expulsion of pressurized air. Repelling the earth requires maintaining structural integrity against gravity. I have burned through my glycogen reserves."
He reached for a bowl of miso soup, the steam swirling around his glasses.
"The final tournament is approaching," he added, staring into the dark, cloudy liquid as if reading the future. "I must refuel the engine. To enter the arena empty is to invite defeat. I intend to be full."
Midoriya nodded, clutching his own bruised arm where the strain of the headband had cut into his skin. "He's right. The next stage is one-on-one. We can't rely on teammates anymore. We have to be at 100%."
Lunch ended, and the students began to filter out. Kuma excused himself to return his tray, the stack of porcelain rattling slightly as he walked.
The corridors of the stadium were cooler than the cafeteria, the thick concrete walls dampening the roar of the crowd outside. The air smelled of cleaning products and faint dust.
As Kuma turned a sharp corner toward the waiting rooms, he stopped abruptly. His heavy boots made no sound on the linoleum.
Standing in the shadows of an intersecting hallway was Bakugo Katsuki. The ash-blond boy wasn't yelling. He wasn't storming around with sparks flying from his palms. He was leaning against the wall, his hands buried deep in his pockets, his head lowered so his bangs obscured his eyes. He was listening.
Kuma stepped up beside him silently. He didn't ask what was happening. He didn't need to. The voices drifting from around the corner were unmistakable.
It was Midoriya and Todoroki.
The conversation was heavy, weighted with a sorrow that felt out of place in a sports festival. It wasn't about strategy or quirks. It was about scars.
"...I will reject my old man's power," Todoroki's voice floated down the hall, cold and vibrating with a lifetime of resentment. "I will take first place without using his fire. That will be my revenge."
Kuma stood still, his large frame blending into the shadows of the corridor. He listened to the story of a "Quirk Marriage," of a mother driven to madness by abuse, of boiling water and a childhood stolen by a man obsessed with surpassing All Might.
Bakugo stood motionless beside him. He didn't scoff. He didn't interrupt. He just stared at the floor, his jaw set tight.
A few moments later, the footsteps receded. Midoriya walked away in one direction, his steps heavy. Todoroki walked in the other, his steps cold and precise.
Silence returned to the hallway, heavy and suffocating.
Kuma exhaled a long, slow breath. He adjusted his glasses, his face softened by a rare expression of genuine sorrow.
"I was unaware," Kuma murmured, breaking the silence. His voice was a low rumble. "To think that the house of the Number Two Hero... holds such darkness. The burden he carries is not just ambition... it is a curse."
"Hah."
Bakugo let out a harsh, dismissive sound. He pushed himself off the wall, shaking his head.
"I don't care about their sob stories," Bakugo grunted. He kept his hands in his pockets, his posture slouching, but his red eyes were sharp as daggers. "Bad dads. Secret origins. None of that matters on the field."
He walked past Kuma, his shoulder brushing against the giant's arm. Then, he stopped. He didn't turn around.
"I'm going to crush him," Bakugo stated, his voice devoid of his usual screaming, replaced by a terrifyingly calm promise. "And the nerd. And you."
He turned his head slightly, his crimson iris locking onto Kuma's towering silhouette.
"You better be ready, Elephant. Because out of all the extras here... you're the biggest damn obstacle in my way."
Kuma looked at the boy. There was no mockery in the nickname. In Bakugo's twisted language, acknowledging someone as an "obstacle" was the highest form of respect. It meant Kuma was worth killing. It meant he was a mountain that Bakugo felt compelled to climb.
"I will be waiting," Kuma replied calmly.
Bakugo clicked his tongue and walked away, his footsteps echoing in the empty hall, heading toward a destiny he intended to carve with his own explosions.
The sun was high in the sky when the students gathered back in the center of the arena. The audience was buzzing with anticipation, the air electric with the promise of violence.
Midnight stood on the stage, the lottery box ready in her hands.
"Now! Before we draw the lots for the tournament brackets, we have an announcement!"
A hand shot up from the crowd of students. It was a hesitant motion, but firm.
It was Ojiro Mashirao, the boy with the tail from Class A.
"Excuse me," Ojiro said, his voice trembling slightly but gaining strength. "I... I wish to withdraw."
The cheering of the crowd died instantly. A heavy, confused silence fell over the stadium. The wind whistled through the stands.
"Withdraw?" Midnight blinked, lowering the box. "But you qualified. You have a rare chance at the top."
"I don't remember anything from the Cavalry Battle," Ojiro confessed, clutching his own arm as if trying to ground himself in reality. "I was on Shinso's team. I assume I was used. I regained my senses at the very end, wondering why I was there."
He looked down at his feet, his fists clenched in frustration.
"Everyone here fought with everything they had to reach this stage. Everyone gave their blood and sweat. I cannot... I cannot stand here with pride when I didn't earn my spot. My dignity won't allow it."
Beside him, another student, Nirengeki Shoda from Class B, raised his hand. "Me too! I was on the same team. I don't know how I got here. It feels wrong! It's not manly to take a spot I didn't win!"
Kuma watched Ojiro. He didn't clap. This wasn't a moment for celebration. It was a moment of tragic integrity. The silence in the stadium was profound—thousands of people witnessing a teenage boy choose honor over glory. It was a rare sight in a world obsessed with rankings.
"I understand," Midnight said, her tone serious for once, dropping her dominatrix persona. "We accept your withdrawal."
Two students from the runners-up, Tetsutetsu and Shiozaki, were moved up to fill the empty spots.
"And now... THE MATCHUPS!"
The massive screen above the stadium lit up. The names shuffled rapidly, a blur of digital text, before locking into place with a mechanical clack.
First Round Brackets:
Match 1: Midoriya Izuku vs. Shinso Hitoshi
Match 2: Todoroki Shoto vs. Sero Hanta
Match 3: Shiozaki Ibara vs. Kaminari Denki
Match 4: Iida Tenya vs. Bartholomew Kuma
Match 5: Ashido Mina vs. Aoyama Yuga
Match 6: Tokoyami Fumikage vs. Yaoyorozu Momo
Match 7: Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu vs. Kirishima Eijiro
Match 8: Uraraka Ochaco vs. Bakugo Katsuki
The students gasped as they saw their opponents. Friends were now enemies.
"Iida..." Kuma murmured, looking at the screen. He turned his head slowly to look at the class representative standing a few feet away.
Iida adjusted his glasses. The sunlight glinted off the lenses, hiding his eyes for a moment. When he lowered his hand, his expression was a mix of fear and intense, unwavering determination. They had been teammates an hour ago, soaring through the sky together. Now, only one would advance.
"Kuma-kun," Iida said stiffly, chopping the air with his hand in his signature robotic motion. "I will not hold back! This is a competition! To surpass my brother... I must challenge the strongest!"
"I expect nothing less," Kuma nodded, accepting the challenge.
The time for the first match arrived. The stadium was shaking with the chanting of the crowd.
Midoriya was stretching near the entrance tunnel. His face was pale, his movements jittery and uncoordinated. He looked like a rabbit about to enter a wolf's den.
Kuma walked up to him. He didn't have his book; it was locked away in the prep room alongside his other belongings. He stood simply as a friend, his shadow engulfing the nervous boy.
"Midoriya."
Midoriya jumped, nearly tripping over his own feet. "Ah! Kuma-kun!"
"The first match sets the tone for the entire tournament," Kuma said. He looked toward the opposing tunnel where the purple-haired boy, Shinso, was waiting in the darkness. Kuma knew nothing of Shinso's power, only that it had stripped Ojiro of his memory and autonomy.
"I do not know what tricks he possesses," Kuma admitted honestly. "But you have faced death at the USJ and won. Do not let a student intimidate you."
He placed a heavy hand on Midoriya's shoulder. It wasn't a comforting pat; it was a grounding grip.
"Good luck."
Midoriya looked up. The panic in his eyes receded slightly, replaced by the spark of One For All. He gave a shaky, brave smile. "Thanks, Kuma-kun. I'll... I'll do my best!"
He turned and walked into the dark tunnel, his silhouette shrinking as he headed toward the roaring light of the arena.
Uraraka walked up beside Kuma, watching Midoriya's back.
"He's shaking," Uraraka whispered, clutching her hands to her chest. "But he's going anyway. He looks so scared, but he keeps moving forward. He's always so... recklessly brave."
"Indeed," Kuma agreed, crossing his massive arms. "Courage is not the absence of fear, Uraraka-san. It is moving forward despite it."
Tokoyami crossed his arms nearby, closing his eyes. "The die is cast. Let us observe from the stands."
"Let's go," Kuma said.
As they walked toward the spectator seating, the voice of Present Mic exploded from the speakers, shaking the very foundations of the stadium.
"ARE YOU READY?! FIRST MATCH! THE HERO COURSE'S STRONG BOY VS THE GENERAL STUDIES' DARK HORSE! MIDORIYA VS SHINSO! START!!"
.
.