Mailin's POV

As we move into Round 4, the tension in the air is undeniable. The rivalry between Class 1-A and Class 1-B has always been fierce, but today, there's something more—something personal. This match isn’t just about proving strength; it’s about proving growth, strategy, and the culmination of everything these kids have learned.

Neito Monoma is at the center of attention, as usual, loud and brimming with confidence. He’s practically bouncing with excitement as he proclaims how proud he is of Setsuna Tokage, one of U.A.'s recommended students. His enthusiasm might be grating at times, but I can’t deny the sharpness of his mind. He knows how to rile people up, and it’s part of his strategy. Still, his antics are beginning to wear on even his own teammates—especially Shinsou, who stands to the side with a look of mild exasperation.

I glance at Shota, standing beside me with his usual stoic expression, his arms crossed as he watches the preparations. He hasn’t said much, but I know he’s keenly aware of what’s at stake for each student. Especially Shinsou. He’s been keeping a close eye on him throughout this entire exercise, and I can sense the quiet encouragement radiating off him.

“Class 1-B had a solid strategy in the first few rounds,” I murmur, leaning slightly closer to Shota. “But Class 1-A... they’ve got Katsuki Bakugo.”

Shota’s gaze flickers toward me, a rare smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “That’s enough to tip the balance. Bakugo’s unpredictable, and this match is his chance to show just how far he’s come.”

As the fourth match begins, Class 1-B's confidence is palpable. Neito's team stands tall, backed by the recommendation of their student, Setsuna. But Bakugo… he's different today. His usual explosive, chaotic energy is focused, contained, like a controlled wildfire ready to ignite.

Setsuna's team begins with a careful, strategic approach, trying to lure Bakugo's team into traps. I can see the logic behind it—they’re banking on Bakugo being the unpredictable wildcard he usually is. But they’re forgetting one thing: Bakugo is no longer just the unpredictable bomb ready to explode. He’s learned to control his blasts, to think ahead. He’s still volatile, but now it’s weaponized in a way that makes him even more dangerous.

Vlad King’s voice booms through the mic, talking up Class 1-B’s previous strategies. “Class 1-B has had the advantage in wins, thanks to their calculated teamwork. Even now, they’re drawing Team Bakugo into their traps.”

But before he can finish, Bakugo charges forward with a roar, his team following seamlessly behind him. The coordinated assault is as brutal as it is efficient. Bakugo’s explosions are sharp and controlled, leaving no room for escape. In mere moments, Team Tokage crumbles under the onslaught.

Within five minutes, it’s over.

"Team Katsuki is the winner with a 4-0 victory!" Vlad King announces, a slight disbelief creeping into his voice. It’s almost too quick, too decisive.

The aftermath is just as swift. Class 1-A rallies around Bakugo, cheering for their victory. Shota offers quiet praise, acknowledging the teamwork that brought them the win, while Vlad King expresses his disappointment in Class 1-B's rigid approach. Setsuna looks dejected, but she holds her head high, offering an apology to her team. Yosetsu grits his teeth, promising to remember this loss, while Togaru merely nods in agreement.

All Might steps forward, offering a compliment to Bakugo. But, true to form, Bakugo shrugs it off with a huff, telling Izuku to hurry up and show some improvement.

“I’ll surpass you,” Izuku promises with quiet determination.

As I stand by, watching the banter unfold, there’s a sense of pride welling in my chest. These kids—they’ve grown so much. And yet, I can’t help but feel the weight of what’s to come.

The final match.

---

Shota's POV

As the final match approaches, the atmosphere shifts. Neito Monoma, for all his arrogance, manages to rally his team with a speech. I watch as he encourages Setsuna and the others, telling them they haven’t lost yet—that they still have a chance to prove Class 1-B’s superior approach to becoming heroes. For all his antics, Neito understands one thing: unity.

They’re focused.

But so is Midoriya.

Class 1-A’s final team is gathered, Izuku at the center, and there’s a different kind of determination in his eyes. He’s no longer just the kid trying to keep up. He’s a leader now, in his own way. His strength isn’t just in his power, but in his heart. He cares, deeply, about those around him, and that’s what makes him a hero.

Mailin moves to stand beside me, her eyes focused on the field. I know she’s worried about Shinsou. The kid’s been through more than most, and this match could be the tipping point for him—whether he believes he belongs here.

“He’ll be fine,” I murmur, sensing her concern.

Mailin’s eyes soften slightly. “I know. But I can’t help but worry. He’s carrying a lot on his shoulders.”

“He’s stronger than he knows,” I reply, watching as the teams take their positions. “And this match will show him that.”