"Ugh, why are we even here, Ryuko?" Rumi groaned, slouching in her seat. "Watching a bunch of kids play hero? Not my idea of a good time."
Ryuko smiled patiently, her eyes scanning the bustling stadium. "Come on, Rumi. It's not every day we get to scout fresh talent. Besides, Nejire told me there's a first-year we should keep an eye on."
Rumi scoffed, propping her feet up on the empty seat in front of her. "Nejire? That bubblehead? What does she know?"
"More than you'd think," Ryuko chided gently. "She's been training with him, apparently. Says he's got potential."
"Potential, huh?" Rumi snorted. "I'll believe it when I see it. What's this kid's name, anyway?"
"Izuku Midoriya."
Rumi's ears twitched. "Midoriya? Never heard of him. Probably just another wannabe with a flashy quirk and no real skill."
"I wouldn't be so sure. Nejire's not easily impressed."
Their conversation was interrupted by Present Mic's booming voice. "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WELCOME TO THE U.A. SPORTS FESTIVAL!"
The crowd erupted in cheers, a tsunami of sound that filled the stadium. Rumi winced, her sensitive ears flattening against her head.
"Ugh, does he have to be so loud?" she grumbled.
Ryuko chuckled. "It's part of his charm, I suppose. Oh, look! There's Midoriya!"
Rumi followed Ryuko's gaze to the field below, where a tall, green-haired man was stepping up to the microphone.
"Damn," Rumi muttered. "Kid's built like a pro."
As Midoriya began to speak, Rumi found herself leaning forward in her seat. There was something about his voice, his presence, that commanded attention.
"We stand here today not just as students, but as the future of heroism itself," Midoriya said. "Recent events have shaken our society's faith in heroes. Some might say we're not ready for the challenges ahead. But I say this: watch us."
Rumi felt a shiver run down her spine. This kid had guts, she had to admit.
As Midoriya's speech continued, Rumi found herself hanging on every word. He spoke of unity, of rising to meet every challenge, of proving that U.A. was more than just a school - it was a forge where the future was shaped.
When he finished, the stadium exploded in applause. Even Rumi found herself clapping, a grudging respect growing in her chest.
"Okay, so the kid can talk," she said, trying to keep her tone nonchalant. "Let's see if he can back it up."
As the festival progressed, Rumi found her eyes constantly drawn to Midoriya. In the obstacle course, he moved with a speed and agility that belied his unassuming appearance, navigating each challenge with a strategic mind that impressed even her.
But it was in the cavalry battle that Midoriya truly shone. His team was a ragtag bunch, but under his leadership, they moved like a well-oiled machine. Rumi watched in growing astonishment as they outmaneuvered and outfought teams with far more raw power.
"Damn," she muttered under her breath. "The kid's got a mind for strategy, I'll give him that."
Ryuko smiled knowingly. "Starting to see what Nejire was talking about?"
Rumi just grunted, her eyes never leaving Midoriya.
As the one-on-one battles began, Rumi was on the edge of her seat. Midoriya's first match, against a kid with some kind of brainwashing quirk, was over almost before it began. Midoriya shut down his opponent with ruthless efficiency, never giving him a chance to use his power.
"Smart," Rumi murmured. "Taking out the biggest threat first."
But it was Midoriya's battle against Shoto Todoroki that truly took Rumi's breath away. From the moment the match began, it was clear that this was a clash of titans.
Todoroki's ice was relentless, a constant barrage that would have overwhelmed a lesser opponent. But Midoriya met it head-on, shattering barriers and carving paths with devastating kicks and punches.
"His power..." Rumi breathed. "It's incredible. How is he generating that much force?"
Ryuko shook her head, her eyes wide. "I've never seen anything like it. It's like he's got a generator in his body."
But as the match went on, Rumi realized that Midoriya's greatest strength wasn't his quirk - it was his mind. He analyzed Todoroki's every move, exploiting weaknesses and creating openings with a strategic brilliance that left her in awe.
And then, with a shout that seemed to shake the very foundations of the stadium, Midoriya did the impossible. He shattered Todoroki's wall of ice, blasting through with a punch that crackled with lightning.
"RAIJIN!" The name of the move echoed in Rumi's ears, sending a shiver down her spine.
In that moment, as Todoroki teetered on the edge of the ring, Rumi saw something in Midoriya's eyes that took her breath away. A fire, a determination, a will that refused to be denied.
"Is that it, Todoroki?" Midoriya called out. "Is this how you want your story to end? Shackled by your father's expectations, denying half of who you are?"
Rumi felt her heart skip a beat. This wasn't just a fight anymore. It was a battle of ideals, a clash of philosophies.
And Midoriya was winning.
She watched in stunned silence as Todoroki's fire ignited, as he embraced the part of himself he had always denied. The battle that followed was a spectacle of raw power that left the entire stadium breathless.
When the final clash came, when Midoriya and Todoroki launched themselves at each other with everything they had, Rumi was on her feet, screaming her support along with the rest of the crowd.
The explosion that followed was cataclysmic, a maelstrom of elements that shook the very air. When the dust finally settled, when Midnight's voice rang out declaring Midoriya the victor, Rumi felt a grin spreading across her face.
"He's mine," she declared, her voice brooking no argument. "That kid... Izuku Midoriya... he's mine for the internship."
Ryuko raised an eyebrow. "I thought you said getting sidekicks was for weaklings?"
Rumi snorted. "Sidekicks, yeah. But this kid... he's no sidekick. He's a partner."
She stood up. "Come on, Ryuko. We've got a hero to recruit."
As they made their way down, Rumi felt a fire burning in her chest. She had come to this festival expecting nothing, just another boring day of watching kids play at being heroes.
But Izuku Midoriya had changed everything.
Rumi stopped short as they reached the edge of the field, her eyes locking onto the green-haired figure being helped onto a stretcher. Midoriya looked battered and bruised, his right arm hanging limp at his side.
But when he looked up, when his eyes met hers across the chaotic swirl of medics, Rumi felt a jolt run through her. There was no pain in those eyes, no fear or doubt.
Only a fierce, unyielding resolve that said, 'This is only the beginning.'
Rumi felt a grin spreading across her face. Oh, yes. Izuku Midoriya was hers, all right.
She took a step forward, ready to push through the crowd and claim her prize. But a hand on her shoulder stopped her.
"Easy, Rumi," Ryuko said, her voice soft but firm. "Let the medics do their job. You'll have your chance to talk to him."
Rumi huffed, but she knew Ryuko was right. Midoriya needed medical attention, needed rest and recovery.
But that didn't stop her from tracking his progress as he was carried off the field, her eyes never leaving his battered form.
"Rumi?" Ryuko's voice broke into her thoughts. "You're smiling. It's kind of scary."
Rumi laughed, the sound startling in the aftermath of the brutal battle. "Can you blame me? I just found my golden ticket."
Ryuko shook her head, but there was a smile on her face too. "He's not going to know what hit him, is he?"
"No," Rumi agreed, her grin turning feral. "He's not."
{Izuku's POV}
I blink against the harsh fluorescent lights of Recovery Girl's tent, the sterile smell of antiseptic filling my nostrils. My body aches, every muscle screaming in protest as I try to sit up.
"Oh no, you don't," Recovery Girl's stern voice cuts through the haze of pain. "You've done quite enough damage for one day, young man."
I settle back onto the cot, wincing as she begins to examine my injuries. Her lips purse in disapproval as she takes in the extent of the damage.
"Honestly, Midoriya," she scolds, "I thought we'd moved past this reckless behavior. You're lucky you didn't shatter every bone in your body with that last attack."
I open my mouth to respond, but a familiar cough interrupts me. All Might steps into view, his skeletal form a stark contrast to his usual larger-than-life presence.
"Now, now, Recovery Girl," he says. "Young Midoriya here put on quite the show. He's come a long way."
"Be that as it may, he still needs to learn some restraint. I can't keep patching him up like this."
As she begins to apply her quirk, I feel the familiar drain on my energy. The pain subsides, but exhaustion settles deep into my bones.
All Might leans in, his voice low. "That move you used at the end, young Midoriya. Raijin, was it? Quite impressive."
"Yes, sir. I've been working on it as my ultimate move. Something to rival your Detroit Smash."
All Might's eyes widen slightly, and I can see the wheels turning in his head.
"It's still a work in progress," I add quickly. "The backlash is... significant."
That's an understatement. My right arm feels like it's been put through a meat grinder. I flex my fingers experimentally, relieved to find they still respond.
"You'll need to refine it," All Might says, his tone serious. "An ultimate move is no good if it takes you out of the fight."
The electrical component needs work, and the energy distribution could be more efficient. Perhaps if I—
"Midoriya," Recovery Girl's voice snaps me back to reality. "I asked if you're experiencing any dizziness or nausea."
"No, ma'am," I reply, shaking my head. "Just tired."
She nods, satisfied for now. "You'll need rest. I'll check on you in 30 minutes to see if you are cleared to participate, got it?"
I open my mouth to protest, but the look she gives me could freeze lava. I nod meekly.
As Recovery Girl bustles away, All Might pats my shoulder gently. "Get some rest. We'll talk more after the festival."
As he leaves, I catch a glimpse of movement outside the tent. A flash of white hair and red eyes. Miruko. The Number Five Hero.
I close my eyes, feigning sleep. But my mind is far from restful. Miruko's interest is unexpected. Potentially useful, but dangerous. She's not known for taking on sidekicks or interns. What could she want with me?