Chapter 26 - Bakugo vs. Uraraka

The last duel of the first round in the finals between Katsuki and Ochaco begins. The tension in the air is palpable, as the crowd roars in anticipation of what is sure to be a battle for the ages.

You sit on the sidelines, your body still stinging from the burn wound on your right shoulder. The pain is sharp, but it's nothing compared to the intensity of the scene unfolding before you. Iida had handed you an ice pack just moments ago, and you press it against your shoulder, feeling the cool relief as it numbs the burn. The coldness is a welcome contrast to the heat of the arena, where explosions, cracks, and shouts fill the air.

You tilt your head slightly, eyes narrowing as you focus on the exchange between Bakugo and Uraraka. The fiery-haired hero looks like he's already got his mind set on victory, every muscle in his body tense with the promise of destruction. Your heart races in sync with the beat of the crowd's excitement, and despite the discomfort from your injury, you can't tear your gaze away from the scene.

Bakugo's voice cuts through the din, a growl that could shatter glass. His warning is clear, dripping with both threat and disdain. "Don't even think about giving up, Uraraka," he sneers, his words biting. "I'm not gonna hold back on you. So get ready."

Uraraka stands her ground, but you can see the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. Despite her normally cheerful demeanor, facing off against Bakugo is no easy task. She takes a breath, as if summoning every ounce of will to prepare for what's coming.

But it's not just the impending clash between Bakugo and Uraraka that holds your attention. The sound of your heartbeat seems louder now, thudding in your chest as you replay the earlier moments in your mind. You know what's at stake for each of them. For you, watching from the sidelines, it's a strange mixture of concern and adrenaline. You can't help but feel for Uraraka, knowing how much she wants to win, yet also understanding the ferocity of Bakugo's spirit. No one can deny his determination, even if it sometimes borders on recklessness.

As you watch them, your thoughts begin to swirl. You press the ice pack harder against your shoulder, a reminder of the pain you've endured to even make it this far. You're not sure how much longer you can sit this one out—this fierce, brutal test of strength and will. Something inside you stirs, and you feel that familiar drive to get back in the ring. But for now, all you can do is watch, knowing that every explosion, every move, is just a step closer to what comes next.

The moment the match starts, you can feel the charged atmosphere in the arena. Your eyes are glued to the spectacle unfolding before you. You watch Ochaco carefully, knowing how precise her movements are, yet the overwhelming force of Bakugo's attacks might just be too much to dodge.

In an instant, it happens. Bakugo lunges forward with a terrifying speed, his muscles coiling like a spring before he unleashes his signature right hook. You can predict it before it even happens. You've seen this move so many times—so many variations—but despite all your preparation, Ochaco isn't fast enough to avoid it.

The explosion rattles the air as Bakugo's fist connects with Ochaco's side, sending her sprawling back in a cloud of smoke and debris. The force of the blast leaves a ringing in your ears, and you can't help but wince as the dust begins to settle. Her uniform, already torn from the impact, is scorched at the edges. Yet even through the haze, you can hear Bakugo's voice, bitter and filled with contempt.

"Should've dropped out of the match, Uraraka," he sneers, his voice low but cutting. "I warned you I wasn't gonna hold back."

The words hang in the air like a challenge, and Bakugo doesn't waste a second. As the smoke clears, he's already on the offensive again. But this time, it's not just brute force. As Ochaco tries to recover, she sends something flying through the smoke—her P.E. uniform, a calculated distraction.

For a split second, Bakugo's reflexes are momentarily thrown off. He lets out a frustrated growl, his gaze locking onto the flying object. But before he can fully react, Ochaco seizes the opportunity and strikes, her body launching toward him, her hands reaching for him like twin blades.

But Bakugo is no fool. His lightning-fast reflexes kick in, and he sidesteps her attack with almost inhuman speed. Without hesitation, he counters, his explosions erupting from his palms, sending Ochaco flying across the arena once again. The impact is deafening, a shockwave of force sending her crashing into the ground.

Your heart clenches in your chest as you watch her struggle to get back up, but Ochaco is relentless. She's not one to give up so easily. Despite the pain, she pushes forward, launching herself at Bakugo once again, fists flying, no hesitation in her movements. Each attack is faster than the last, an onslaught that refuses to stop. Her hands glow as she uses her quirk with deadly precision, but Bakugo matches her speed with each explosive burst.

The crowd's reaction is mixed—some cheer for the fierce determination on both sides, but many are visibly shaken by the intensity of Bakugo's attacks. Each explosion causes a shift in the energy of the crowd, a ripple of unease spreading through the arena. The sheer power in Bakugo's every move rattles even the most seasoned spectators.

But you, from your vantage point, know something that the crowd doesn't. Bakugo isn't just trying to beat Uraraka. No, to him, this isn't some simple fight with a fellow competitor. He's not seeing her as just another girl on the field. There's a deep undercurrent in his every move—an acknowledgment, perhaps even a fear, that she is a threat to him.

It's not just her determination. It's the quiet power that radiates from her, the way she continues to fight back despite the odds. To Bakugo, she's not just someone to defeat. She's someone who might just push him to his limits. It's almost as if he's fighting against something more than just Uraraka—he's fighting against the realization that she, too, has the capacity to stand her ground against him.

Every explosion he uses to keep her away seems more desperate, more aggressive. His anger isn't just about the fight; it's about respect and recognition, something that fuels his every move. It's clear now: he knows that she's a formidable adversary. And that realization burns in his chest with every blast, making the fight far more than just a battle of strength—it's a test of who will break first.

The way he attacks, the precision in his strikes, the raw ferocity—it all speaks to something deeper. To him, this is no longer about winning. It's about making sure no one, especially Uraraka, ever dares to challenge him again.

The battle rages on, and Ochaco is growing more desperate with each passing second. Her attacks are becoming wilder, her moves frantic as she tries to find a way past Bakugo's unrelenting onslaught. Her body trembles with exhaustion, her mind a whirlwind of strategies that seem to dissolve the moment she tries to execute them. Every time she leaps toward him, Bakugo meets her with another explosion, keeping her at a distance, his explosions more powerful than ever. The heat from the blasts makes her dizzy, and it's becoming harder to keep up her relentless pursuit.

From your seat, you can see the flicker of determination in Ochaco's eyes slowly turning into something else—desperation. It's a feeling you've all been through, the way the mind races when you're cornered, when there's no room left to maneuver but you refuse to give up. And yet, despite her perseverance, it's clear to you that she's reaching her limit.

Neito, ever the keen observer, catches onto something in the air. His eyes flicker to the crowd and then back to the fight, sensing the growing unease. "Look closer," he murmurs, the words almost lost under the roar of the audience. His tone shifts, as though he's spotting something more subtle in the chaos of the battle.

The crowd's mood begins to shift. What once was excitement now turns into disapproval. They start to boo loudly, jeering at Bakugo's unrelenting attacks, as if his aggression is overstepping the bounds of a fair fight. The constant explosions, the devastation of Ochaco's attempts—it's starting to look less like a match and more like an assault.

But just as the murmurs swell into a chorus of boos, Shota's voice rings out above the noise, sharp and commanding. His gaze sweeps over the crowd, locking onto the people who have begun to incite the ruckus. "Hold on," he calls, his voice cutting through the discontent like a blade. "You need to understand what's happening here."

The murmurs fall to a hush as Shota's words take hold.

"Katsuki's fierceness isn't about being cruel. It's not about being too rough. It's an acknowledgment of his opponent's strength." He pauses, his eyes never leaving the arena as he continues, "He's pushing himself to his absolute limit because he knows that Uraraka is a threat. Every explosion he unleashes, every move he makes—it's all about keeping her at bay so he can come out on top. He's not backing down, not because of pride, but because he recognizes what's at stake here."

Shota's explanation cuts through the confusion, and the crowd goes silent for a moment. Some still seem uneasy, but the realization hits—they've been watching a clash of two powerful, determined individuals, not just a one-sided beating.

You can't help but smile to yourself as you listen to your teacher. It's always been like this, hasn't it? Shota has this way of seeing beyond the surface, of revealing the truth in the heat of a moment. You notice his glance shift toward you, and you realize—he's seen it too. That quiet thing you did, the way you were watching, thinking, knowing. He noticed you weren't just reacting to the fight—you were processing it, taking in the bigger picture. Maybe, in a way, he's proud of you for picking up on it. Maybe it's more than just a match to him too. You can feel the connection in that brief glance, the unspoken understanding.

Ochaco continues her onslaught, but now, with the crowd settling down a bit, there's a different energy in the air. People are starting to see what Shota was talking about. Katsuki is no longer just a bully in their eyes, but a competitor who is fighting with everything he's got. And Uraraka, though battered, is still pushing forward, not out of desperation alone, but out of the same strength that Katsuki is recognizing in her.

The fight isn't over yet. In fact, it feels like it's only just begun. And for the first time, you see both fighters with a deeper respect for each other, even if it's not spoken aloud. This isn't just about winning anymore. It's about showing who's willing to go the furthest, to sacrifice everything for the fight they believe in.

The smoke from the explosion begins to dissipate, and amidst the cloud of dust and debris, Ochaco stands, still resolute. She's battered, bloodied, her uniform in tatters, but her stance remains unbroken. The sheer determination radiates from her, and even after the hell she's just been through, she's still here.

Katsuki watches, his eyes narrowing in disbelief. "She's not dead yet?" he mutters under his breath, irritation flickering in his eyes. The momentary unease ripples through him as he processes her resilience. He's been throwing everything he has at her—his most ferocious explosions, his unrelenting speed—but she's still standing.

Ochaco meets his gaze and, with a strained but determined voice, manages to say, "Thanks for keeping your focus on me, Katsuki." Her words are steady, but there's a faint tremor beneath them. She's not about to let herself crumble, no matter how much her body protests.

Katsuki looks up, his eyes catching a strange sight above the stadium. His focus shifts to the floating debris, a vast amount of rubble suspended in the air, all around the ring. It's a sight that makes his blood run cold. For a brief moment, he doesn't know what to make of it.

Neito, ever observant, breaks the silence. "Look closely," he urges, explaining what's happening. "Uraraka's been moving low to the ground, letting your explosions tear up the floor. All that debris, it's her making. She's been turning the very environment into weapons against you. And she's kept you laser-focused on her, which is why you didn't notice until now."

Katsuki's eyes widen as realization hits. She's been playing him this whole time, using his strength against him, forcing him into a pattern where he didn't see the bigger picture. That clever little— His thoughts are interrupted as Ochaco's grin flickers through the dust.

Then, as if to confirm Neito's explanation, Ochaco releases her Quirk. The weightless debris around the ring begins to descend rapidly, crashing toward Katsuki with the fury of a meteor storm. His eyes widen in shock, and for a moment, it feels as if the very ring is collapsing around him.

But before he can react, Ochaco surges forward, using her momentum to try and capitalize on the opening she's created. She's closing the distance between them, her body moving with renewed energy, her quirk fully in play. She's going to do it, you think, feeling the tension rise in your chest. This could be it.

However, Katsuki isn't going to be caught off guard again. With a fierce snarl, he unleashes a massive explosion, the shockwave blasting outward with a force that propels the falling debris in every direction. The explosion decimates everything in its path, including Ochaco, who is sent flying back, the force of the blast throwing her across the ring.

She slams into the ground with a sickening thud, and for a moment, you think she might have been knocked out cold. She struggles to rise, pushing herself up with trembling arms, but you can see it—her body is completely spent. She's taken the brunt of Katsuki's explosions and she's reached her limit.

She stumbles, fighting to stand again, her breathing ragged and shallow. She pushes herself forward, crawling toward him, dragging her battered body with everything she has left. Her mind flashes back to a memory—the reason she's here, fighting so hard, so desperately. I promised my family... I promised I'd help them by becoming a hero.

But it's too much. The weight of her body, the toll of the fight, the lingering effects of the explosions—she can't continue. Her eyes flutter as darkness closes in, and before she can reach her goal, her body collapses. Ochaco loses consciousness, her hand barely touching the ground in front of her as she falls still.

The announcer's voice booms, calling out the conclusion of the match. "Katsuki Bakugo is the winner!" The crowd erupts into a mixture of cheers and hesitant applause, unsure of how to feel about the brutal nature of the fight. It was hard-fought, but in the end, it wasn't just a victory—it was a testament to both their strength.

You watch as Midnight and a few staff members rush to carry Ochaco off, her body limp as they move her toward Recovery Girl's office. Katsuki, however, doesn't even look back. He's already turning, his eyes focused solely on the next challenge. Without a word, he exits the ring, having advanced to the next round.

You, still feeling the adrenaline from the battle, push yourself to your feet. You wave a quick goodbye to Izuku, who's been watching with wide eyes from the stands, and make your way down the stairs to the second level of the arena.

As you round the corner, you find yourself face-to-face with Katsuki Bakugo. He's glaring at you, his expression like a thundercloud ready to burst. "What do you want, lizard?" he spits out, his words sharp and full of disdain. "Come to catch me, too? You wanna know how I won?"

His words are dripping with arrogance, but there's something else in his gaze—a flicker of something deeper, something beneath the brash exterior. It's not just about the fight for him. It's always been more. But for now, all you can do is face him, the tension hanging in the air between you two as he waits for your response.

You shake your head slightly, your expression softening as you look at Katsuki. There's a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips, not out of mockery, but genuine respect for the way he fought.

"I'm actually commend you on how you fought, Katsuki," you say, your tone steady, though your eyes are filled with sincerity. "You didn't hold back, not even for a second. That's impressive—even if she was weaker than you."

Katsuki's glare sharpens, his jaw tightening in response, but you can tell he's listening. You continue, your voice steady but filled with a quiet confidence. "You didn't hold back, and that's true courage. You didn't underestimate her just because she's smaller or less powerful. That's what a real fighter does."

His eyes flicker for a moment, and for an instant, you think he might say something to push you away, to remind you of the gap in your strength. But instead, he just stands there, his stance unwavering.

"You think that's courage?" Katsuki scoffs, his voice still dripping with his usual arrogance, though the edge is softer. "It's not about courage. It's about showing I'm the best. She got in my way, so I did what I had to."

You smile again, not in mockery, but in understanding. You know that beneath his rough exterior, Bakugo does have a strange sense of respect for those who challenge him. It's why he fights so hard, why he refuses to let anyone think they've got the upper hand.

"Yeah, maybe," you say, "but courage isn't always about fighting to win. Sometimes it's about fighting for something bigger, something more than just your pride. That's what you showed out there."

His eyes narrow at you, a flash of irritation flickering behind his gaze. But you know it's a reaction born from his own internal struggle. He doesn't want to admit that maybe, just maybe, there's something to what you said.

"You're an idiot," he grumbles under his breath, but it lacks the usual venom. "But whatever. I'm not here to listen to you talk. Got a match to win."

With that, he turns and walks off, his footsteps heavy and purposeful, but the flicker of something in his eyes—whether it's respect or acknowledgment, you're not sure—lingers a moment longer.

You watch him go, a small, satisfied smile playing at your lips. There's more to Bakugo than he lets on, and maybe, just maybe, he'll come to understand the true meaning of courage—both on the battlefield and beyond.