Chapter 23 - Victory or Defeat

The recreational games proceed, with many finalists choosing to either relax or strategize for their upcoming battles. The festival grounds are alive with energy, but some of the tension simmers as the participants mentally prepare themselves for the intense matches ahead. Cementoss finishes constructing the fighting arena, its sturdy, polished surface gleaming under the stadium lights—a perfect stage for the festival's climactic battles.

As Izuku prepares to take the stage for his first match against Shinso, you linger quietly in the hallway nearby, adjusting your gear. The muffled sounds of the crowd filter through the walls, but another sound catches your attention. You tilt your head slightly, realizing it's All Might's voice, speaking to Izuku just around the corner.

Curiosity piqued, you stay still, overhearing their conversation.

"...Remember, Young Midoriya, One For All isn't just a quirk. It's a legacy," All Might says in a low, serious tone. "You've worked hard to control it, but don't let its power consume you."

"One For All..." you whisper under your breath, your brows knitting together as the pieces click into place. "So that's it. Izuku's quirk isn't his own—it's passed down from All Might." You hum thoughtfully, tapping a clawed finger against your chin. The revelation swirls in your mind as you mull over its implications.

Without waiting for them to finish their talk, you push away from the wall and stride toward the waiting area, where Ojiro is stretching. Noticing you approach, he straightens up and hands you a water bottle.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his tail swishing lightly as he studies your expression.

You shake your head, taking a swig of water and flashing him a reassuring grin. "Nah, nothing serious. Just thinking about Izuku's match—it's gonna be good."

Ojiro nods, his calm demeanor contrasting with the electric anticipation in the air. "Shinso's tricky, but Midoriya's smart. It'll be interesting to watch."

You both stand there for a moment, watching as Izuku steps onto the stage, the crowd roaring with excitement. You can't shake the weight of what you've just learned, but you tuck it away for now. The battles are about to begin, and the arena demands focus.

~~~~~~

The tension in the arena reaches its peak as the first match kicks off: Izuku Midoriya vs. Hitoshi Shinso. The two competitors stand at opposite ends of the ring, their expressions a stark contrast—Izu with determination, Shinso with a cool, calculating smirk.

"BEGIN!" Present Mic announces, his voice slicing through the air.

Izuku moves forward cautiously, aware of Shinso's quirk and the dangers it poses. But Shinso, unshaken, crosses his arms and taunts with deliberate precision.

"So, Midoriya... tell me, what's it like having her as your teammate? I bet it's a nightmare keeping up with someone as overpowered as Y/N," Shinso says, his voice dripping with provocation. "Maybe you should let her fight your battles for you."

The words hit like a jab, and Izuku, bristling with indignation, snaps back without thinking. "That's not true! Y/N—"

The moment the words leave his mouth, Izuku freezes mid-step. His eyes glaze over, a visible shift that sends a ripple of unease through the crowd.

The audience gasps as Izuku stands motionless, his body unresponsive.

"WHAT'S THIS? MIDORIYA IS... HE'S JUST STANDING THERE!" Present Mic exclaims in confusion, his voice laced with concern.

From the sidelines, you tense, your claws digging slightly into your arms. "He walked right into it..." you mutter under your breath, frustration and worry bubbling inside you. Shinso's Brainwashing Quirk has taken hold.

Shinso, fully in control, smirks triumphantly as he takes a step closer to Izuku. "It's funny, isn't it? Someone so strong in spirit, yet so easy to manipulate," he says, loud enough for the audience to hear. The crowd murmurs anxiously, their cheers replaced by uncertainty.

All Might leans forward from the stands, his knuckles white as he grips the railing. "Come on, Young Midoriya... fight it!" he whispers, his voice tinged with desperation.

Meanwhile, Shinso instructs Izuku to walk toward the edge of the ring, planning to win via a simple ring-out. The tension in the stadium is palpable, the stakes higher than ever as Izuku takes a step forward, his fate seemingly sealed.

But you narrow your eyes, refusing to believe this is the end. Deep down, you know Izuku—he's not one to let things end like this.

~~~~~~

"Come on, you can do it, Izuku!" you shout under your breath, watching from the sidelines as Izuku stands there, frozen in Shinso's grip. The arena is eerily quiet, all eyes on the immobile hero-in-training.

Izuku's expression softens as his mind starts to break free from Shinso's manipulation. He blinks, his gaze sharpens, and then, for a split second, he remembers. The warmth of a gift given to him—a necklace shaped like a rose. A memory floods back, and he smiles softly to himself, remembering the moment when you had given it to him, telling him that you would always be there for him, just like he had always been there for others.

The crowd holds its breath as a crack echoes from Izuku's mind, his clenched fists trembling. With a sudden, fierce gasp, he breaks free from Shinso's control, shaking off the residual effects of the Brainwashing Quirk.

He turns to Shinso, his voice low but filled with fury, "You bastard..." Izuku growls, his hands clenching into fists. In that instant, his resolve solidifies, his usual doubts replaced with a sheer determination.

Izuku rushes at Shinso with all the power he can muster, catching the mind controller off guard. Shinso barely has time to react as Izuku's hand grabs his, locking it in place, and then, with a swift motion, he flings Shinso across the arena. The crowd watches in stunned silence as Shinso lands with a thud, completely knocked out cold.

The roar of the crowd erupts, a wave of applause and cheers that shakes the stadium. You can't help but smile as relief floods over you—Izuku did it.

"Well done, Deku," you whisper under your breath, a proud grin spreading across your face.

Izuku stands tall in the center of the arena, chest heaving, his breathing heavy but steady. The arena is alive with excitement, and you know that this is just the beginning. He's proven not only his strength but his resolve, and that's something no one can take away from him.

"AND MIDORIYA WINS THE FIRST MATCH!" Present Mic's voice echoes through the stadium, the excitement palpable. "WHAT A COMEBACK! THAT'S THE SPIRIT OF A TRUE HERO!"

~~~~~~

As the next match approaches, you stand, stretching out your limbs with a slow, controlled motion. The adrenaline from Izuku's victory still lingers in the air, but you focus, determined to make your own mark in this tournament.

You think back to the words you spoke to Izuku earlier, making sure he was okay after his intense fight. You visited Shinso to ensure he wasn't seriously hurt, though you kept your distance, wary of getting caught up in his mind control again. Shinso had taken his defeat well enough, but you knew how to read between the lines—he'd probably be coming for another chance.

While walking back to the arena, you think about what you said to him, your words lingering in the back of your mind. Being an outsider wasn't easy—whether it was your mixed heritage or the feeling that you were always a step removed from others. You were different from the others, the last of your kind. The Night Fury, the only dragon left, after all the others were wiped out by humans or other species. Your distant cousins, the Light Fury, were always the ones who belonged. You had been rejected by both your own kind and those who looked at you with suspicion.

Sometimes, it felt like you were always fighting to prove you belonged. You pushed that feeling aside as you stepped onto the arena, ready for the next battle.

Your opponent is soon called out: Katsuki Bakugo. His fiery personality always managed to intimidate everyone, and this time, it was no different. You can hear his insults from across the room as he grins that wicked grin of his.

"Don't think you'll get lucky, lizard," Bakugo sneers, cracking his knuckles.

You smile back, undeterred. "We'll see, won't we?" you reply coolly.

The bell rings, and the crowd goes silent, all eyes on you both. You feel the familiar rush of energy course through you as your tail flicks behind you, your dragon instincts coming alive with the anticipation of the fight. Bakugo charges forward immediately, blasting off with an explosion of his Quirk, but you've already taken to the air, soaring gracefully above him.

He's fast, but you're faster. Using your wings, you maneuver around the battlefield with precision, taking every advantage of your agility. Bakugo's explosions light up the arena, but they miss you by inches as you weave and dodge through them.

"You can't hide forever, lizard!" Bakugo yells, and you hear the trademark fury in his voice as he launches another massive blast.

But you don't need to hide. Instead, you hover just out of reach, the air around you crackling with the energy of your own power. With a flick of your tail, you unleash a quick burst of purple energy aimed at his feet. He stumbles back just in time, barely avoiding the blast, but it gives you the opening you need.

You land lightly on the ground, your claws skimming across the surface as you make a calculated move, rushing forward in a burst of speed. Your tail lashes out, knocking Bakugo off balance.

"Not bad," Bakugo grunts, pushing himself back up. "But it's gonna take more than that to beat me!"

You roll your shoulders and get back into your stance, ready for the next move. The battle has just begun, and you're not about to back down.

You lunge at Bakugo with swift, calculated precision, your claws outstretched as you move faster than he can react. His fiery glare meets your sharp, slitted purple eyes just as you slam down onto him, your weight and strength overwhelming him. The force sends him crashing to the ground, his body trembling from the impact.

His breath comes in heavy bursts as he snaps at you, his explosive Quirk bubbling under the surface, ready to detonate. "Get off me, you damn lizard!" he snarls, his hands already beginning to ignite.

But you don't budge. You press down on his chest, your claws digging into the ground beneath him, pinning him in place. Your tail swishes in the air behind you, a silent threat.

"You're not going anywhere, Bakugo," you growl, your voice low and commanding. The moment you speak, the arena falls into a hushed silence, the tension thick in the air. "You've been too cocky for too long."

Bakugo's eyes burn with fury, and his fists clench, but there's something else in his expression—a grudging respect mixed with frustration. "You think you've won, don't you?" he growls. "You're just getting lucky."

You just stare down at him, your gaze unblinking and unwavering. "I don't need luck," you hiss, your tail slithering around his leg, tightening just enough to make him wince. "I only need my strength."

His face twists in anger, but you can tell he's struggling to break free. He's used to dominating the arena, used to overwhelming his opponents with his explosive power. But here, with you, it's different. It's a battle of endurance, will, and strength—and right now, he's losing.

The crowd watches, gasping as the clash between you and Bakugo grows more intense. Yet, despite his explosive bursts and fierce efforts to escape, you keep him pinned, holding your ground with the calm confidence of someone who knows this battle is already won.

Bakugo grits his teeth, his voice harsh. "I'm not giving up, you hear me?!" he shouts, but there's a hint of doubt creeping into his tone.

You smirk, not needing to say another word. Instead, you give him a last warning growl before letting your tail tighten one more time, making him freeze in place.

In that moment, Bakugo realizes he's outmatched. His body tenses, but the fight leaves him, and he finally stops struggling. A deep growl rumbles in your throat as you let go, lifting him slightly with a sharp push and stepping back, giving him space.

The bell rings, and the announcer's voice booms through the arena.

"And the winner is Y/N L/N!" Present Mic's voice rings out, loud and clear, as the crowd erupts in cheers.

You stand tall, breathing heavily but with the calm air of victory. Your gaze shifts back to Bakugo, who glares at you, but there's something else there now—acknowledgment. You've shown him what it means to fight, truly fight, not with arrogance or fire, but with the raw, unyielding strength you possess.

"You didn't think you could beat me, did you, Bakugo?" you murmur, stepping away as the arena begins to clear.

Bakugo's glare burns into you as he seethes, his voice cracking with frustration. "You... you defeated me... you're nothing!" he spits, his words laced with bitter rage, but his body trembles, clearly not accustomed to being bested.

You remain silent, head cocked slightly to the side, making a soft, almost soothing cooing sound—a quiet, melodic hum that seems to calm the tension in the air around you. It's a strange contrast to the volatile energy that Bakugo exudes, but it's enough to throw him off balance.

His anger builds, his body shaking with rage as he steps forward, ready to shout something more at you, but before he can say another word, you act. With a swift flick of your tail, you knock him gently but firmly on the head.

There's a sickening thud as his eyes roll back, and he crumples to the ground, knocked out cold by the gentle yet forceful tap. The crowd, who had been waiting in tense silence, watches in stunned awe as you effortlessly hoist him up by the scruff of his uniform, dragging him out of the arena.

The silence is deafening as the audience tries to process what just happened—the proud, explosive Bakugo, knocked out and carried like a ragdoll by someone they thought of as their rival.

With each step, the arena remains still, as though waiting for the explosive tension to settle. You don't say a word, your expression calm and unreadable, as you carry Bakugo out, his limp body swaying in your grasp. The contrast between the calmness in your movements and the chaos of the situation is jarring.

As you exit the arena, the crowd starts to murmur, slowly coming back to life, though many are still speechless, watching you with a mix of awe and disbelief. It's clear that they're witnessing something extraordinary, the true power behind your abilities—and a glimpse of what Bakugo had never expected to face.

You leave the arena in silence, the weight of the victory resting on your shoulders, but the message you've sent is clear.