Chereads / My Hero Academia: Adaptation / Chapter 45 - [45] Rise of the Creation Heroine

Chapter 45 - [45] Rise of the Creation Heroine

I blink, my vision clearing as I focus on the small TV screen in Recovery Girl's infirmary. Iida's match against Shiozaki just wrapped up, with Iida's speed proving too much for Shiozaki's vines.

The screen flickers to the next match - Momo versus Mina. I lean forward, wincing as the movement pulls at my freshly healed injuries. Momo's creating a steady stream of objects, countering Mina's acid attacks with precision. It's a close fight, but Momo's versatility gives her the edge. She forces Mina out of bounds with a well-timed shield bash.

"Looks like the semi-finals are set," I mutter, more to myself than anyone else. "Me versus Iida, and Momo versus Kacchan."

Recovery Girl bustles over, checking my vitals one last time. "Well, young Midoriya, I think you're finally clear to leave. Just try not to end up back here before the day's over, hmm?"

I nod, grateful for her care but eager to rejoin my classmates. As I swing my legs off the bed, the infirmary door slams open. Kacchan storms in, his perpetual scowl firmly in place.

"Oi, Deku!" he barks. "You better not be thinking of pussying out of our fight in the finals!"

"Bold of you to assume you'll make it past Momo, Kacchan."

His eyes narrow dangerously. "Watch it, nerd. I'm going to crush Ponytail, and then I'm coming for you."

"Looking forward to it," I reply, meeting his glare head-on. There's a moment of tension before Kacchan snorts and turns away.

I make my way back to the 1-A seating area, where my classmates greet me with a mix of cheers and concerned looks.

"Midoriya! Are you okay?" Uraraka asks, her eyes wide with worry.

I nod, taking my seat. "Good as new, thanks to Recovery Girl."

Iida chops the air emphatically. "Your match with Todoroki was most impressive, Midoriya! But please, do try to be more careful in the future."

"Thanks, Iida," I say, my mind already racing ahead to our upcoming semi-final match. "Your win against Shiozaki was pretty impressive too. I'm looking forward to facing you next."

Iida's glasses glint as he adjusts them. "Indeed! I shall give it my all!"

Our conversation is cut short as Present Mic's voice booms through the stadium, announcing a short break before the semi-finals. I use the opportunity to seek out Momo, finding her near the entrance to the waiting rooms.

"Hey," I say, approaching her. "Great job against Mina. That shield bash at the end was inspired."

Momo's face lights up. "Izuku! Thank you. I was worried for a moment there, but I remembered what you said about thinking on my feet."

"How are you feeling about your match with Bakugo?"

Her expression turns serious. "Nervous, to be honest. His quirk is so powerful, and he's ruthless in combat."

I place a hand on her shoulder. "You've got this, Momo. Your quirk is incredibly versatile, and you're smarter than him. Use that to your advantage."

"You're right. I've been working on some strategies..."

We spend the next few minutes discussing potential tactics, the conversation flowing easily between us. It's moments like these that remind me why I enjoy Momo's company so much. Her intelligence and quick thinking never fail to impress me.

As we wrap up our strategy session, Momo hesitates for a moment. "Izuku, about our... date after the festival..."

My heart rate picks up slightly. "Yeah?"

"I was thinking, maybe we could grab dinner after the museum? There's this new place I've been wanting to try."

I smile. "That sounds perfect."

The warning bell for the semi-finals interrupts us, and we both straighten up.

"Good luck out there," I tell her. "Show Bakugo what you're made of."

Momo nods, a fierce look in her eyes. "You too. I'll see you in the finals."

As she walks away, my mind shifting gears to focus on the upcoming match. Iida's speed is formidable, but I've been paying close attention to his matches. There are patterns to his movements, weaknesses I can exploit.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" Present Mic's voice boomed. "ARE YOU READY FOR THE SEMI FINALS?"

The crowd screamed their assent, a tsunami of sound that made my bones vibrate.

"IN THE RED CORNER, WE HAVE THE SPEEDSTER OF CLASS 1-A, THE ENGINE-LEGGED HERO-IN-TRAINING... TENYA IIDA!"

Iida stepped forward, his posture perfect, his face set in lines of grim determination. The sunlight glinted off his glasses, his engines already thrumming with barely contained power.

"AND IN THE BLUE CORNER, THE RISING STAR... IZUKU MIDORIYA!"

I raised my fist to the crowd, and they roared back. Good, I was definitely the fan favorite.

Across the arena, Iida stood ready, his engines humming. I could practically see the gears turning in his head, planning his first move. But I'd been studying him. I knew his patterns, his weaknesses.

"BEGIN!"

Iida shot forward, a blue blur aiming straight for me. Predictable. I sidestepped at the last second, feeling the rush of air as he passed.

He skidded, trying to turn. Too wide. I was already moving, closing the distance. My fist connected with his side, and he stumbled.

Iida recovered quickly, engines revving. He came at me again, faster this time. I ducked under his arm, pivoting to face his back. Another quick jab, and he was off-balance again.

The crowd was going wild, but I tuned them out. Focus. Iida was tough, but he had tells. His right foot twitched before he charged. His left hand clenched when he was about to change direction.

He circled me now, looking for an opening. I kept my stance low, ready to move. He feinted left, then shot right. I was ready, catching his arm and using his momentum to throw him.

Iida hit the ground hard but rolled to his feet. His glasses were askew, his breathing heavy. But his eyes? Still full of fight.

He came at me again. I blocked and dodged, looking for my chance. There - his guard dropped for a split second. I struck, a solid hit to his solar plexus.

Iida gasped, doubling over. I didn't let up, following with an uppercut that sent him staggering back.

He was on the ropes now, but I couldn't get cocky. One slip-up, and his speed could turn the tables. I needed to end this, and fast.

Iida seemed to realize it too. He revved his engines to maximum, the sound deafening in the arena. This was it, his last-ditch effort.

He charged, faster than ever. But I was ready. At the last second, I dropped and swept his legs. Iida's momentum did the rest, sending him flying out of bounds.

"Tenya Iida is out of bounds! Izuku Midoriya advances to the finals!" Midnight's announcement was almost drowned out by the crowd's cheers.

I walked over to Iida, who was picking himself up off the ground. His face was a mix of disappointment and respect.

"Good match," I said, offering my hand.

Iida nodded, grasping my hand firmly. "Indeed. Your strategy was impeccable, Midoriya."

I decide to head to the waiting room instead of rejoining my classmates. The quiet solitude will help me focus on the upcoming final match. As I settle into a chair, my mind shifts to analyzing my potential opponents.

Momo or Bakugo. Two very different challenges.

Momo would be the easier matchup, strategically speaking. I've spent countless hours training with her, observing her quirk's limitations and her personal tells. When she's about to create something big, her left eyebrow twitches slightly. She favors her right side for quick, small creations. And she still hesitates a fraction of a second before making complex items.

I lean back, closing my eyes. Against Momo, I'd need to keep the pressure on. Don't give her time to think or create anything substantial. Close the distance quickly, force her into hand-to-hand combat where her quirk is less effective. She's improved, but I still have the edge in pure physical combat.

But Bakugo... that's a different story entirely.

My eyes open, focusing on nothing in particular as I consider my childhood friend and rival. This Sports Festival has pushed Bakugo to new heights. His battle IQ has skyrocketed. He's no longer just relying on raw power and aggression. Each move is calculated, each explosion precisely controlled.

Against Bakugo, I'd need to be unpredictable. He knows my fighting style almost as well as I know his. I tap my fingers against the armrest, considering. Maybe I could use that familiarity against him. Set up patterns, then break them at crucial moments.

Well', I'll find out who I'm facing soon enough.

{Momo Yaoyorozu's POV}

This was it. The moment I had been training for, the chance to prove myself against one of the strongest in our class.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! ARE YOU READY FOR THE LAST SEMI FINALS MATCH?"

The crowd cheered loudly, causing the stadium to shake a little bit.

"IN THE RED CORNER, THE BRILLIANT STRATEGIST, THE MASTER OF CREATION... MOMO YAOYOROZU!"

I waved to the crowd, trying to project a calm I didn't quite feel. Across the arena, Bakugo stood ready, his posture relaxed but his eyes intense.

"AND IN THE BLUE CORNER, THE EXPLOSIVE EXPERT, THE HUMAN GRENADE... KATSUKI BAKUGO!"

Bakugo didn't react to the cheers, his focus solely on me.

"BEGIN!"

Bakugo took the initiative, launching forward with an explosion. I was ready, a shield forming to deflect the blast as I created a staff to counter.

We clashed in the center of the arena, my staff against his explosions. Bakugo was relentless, his attacks precise and powerful, but I met him blow for blow.

"Not bad, Yaoyorozu," he grunted as we separated. "Deku's been teaching you well."

I smiled back, taking the compliment in stride. "He's a good partner. But don't think that means you can underestimate me."

Bakugo's grin widened. "Wasn't planning on it."

He came at me again, feinting left before blasting right. I spun away, using my staff to vault over his head, a flashbang forming in my free hand.

The blast disoriented him for a moment, giving me an opening to press the attack. But Bakugo recovered quickly, his reflexes as sharp as ever.

We traded blows back and forth, neither of us able to gain a significant advantage. Sweat ran down my face, my breathing heavy, but I refused to give ground.

But Bakugo's stamina was monstrous, his quirk perfectly suited for drawn-out battles. Slowly, gradually, he started to gain the upper hand, his explosions coming faster, harder, wearing down my defenses.

"You've got skill, Ponytail," he said as I staggered back from a particularly heavy blast. "But skill alone won't beat me."

I knew he was right. I needed a plan, a way to end this before he overwhelmed me completely.

I created a smoke bomb, hurling it at Bakugo's feet. As the smoke billowed up, obscuring his vision, I charged forward, a weighted net in one hand and a taser in the other.

Bakugo blasted the smoke away, but I was already on him. The net tangled his legs, the taser sparking as it made contact with his side.

He roared in pain and anger, his explosions ripping the net to shreds. But it had bought me the second I needed.

I tackled him, using my weight to bear him to the ground. We grappled, rolling across the concrete, each trying to gain the advantage.

But Bakugo was stronger and with a final, powerful heave, he threw me off, sending me skidding across the arena floor.

I tried to rise, but my body wouldn't obey, exhaustion and pain weighing me down like lead.

Through blurry eyes, I saw Bakugo approach, his stance wary but his expression almost gentle. "Stay down, Yaoyorozu," he said, his voice gruff but not unkind. "You fought well. There's no shame in this defeat."

I wanted to argue, to keep fighting until the last breath left my body. But I knew he was right. I had given it my all, had pushed myself to my absolute limits.

And though it hadn't been enough to win, it was enough for me. Enough to know that I had grown, that I had become stronger than I ever thought possible.

As Midnight called the match in Bakugo's favor, as the crowd's cheers washed over me, I felt a smile tug at my lips.

Next time, I would be even better. Next time, I would be the one left standing.

But for now, as Bakugo helped me to my feet, his grip firm but respectful, I could hold my head high.

Because I had faced one of the strongest head-on, had given him a fight he would not soon forget.

And that, in itself, was a victory.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​