Bakugo's team, though staggered, got their stuff together real quick. With the team holding tight on Bakugo's legs as he launched himself at Yami, they shot straight toward Yami's team, aiming for the ten-million-point headband strapped to Momo's forehead.
Yami and Momo reacted at the same time. Yami stomped down, activating Vaporizing Freezing, coating the ground under their feet with a thin layer of slick ice.
Momo zipped down her jacket and whipped up two shockwave grenades from her cleavage at the same moment, her fingers moving with repeated precision.
Kirishima's feet hit the ice at top speed. The moment his boots touched down, they slipped hard. His momentum backfired, sending him skidding uncontrollably with the rest of the team.
Bakugo, who had just launched himself forward by ditching his team, wasn't ready for the sudden loss of balance.
His explosion propelled him too far, and by the time he realized what had happened, Momo had already reached up and snatched his headband clean off his dumbass skull.
Bakugo let out a furious roar. "YOU FUCKING—" he screamed as he fell, using his explosions to propel himself back at his team.
The shockwave grenades went off before he could finish, and his team returned.
The explosion sent them flying back, arms flailing like ragdolls. They crashed into another team, where Bakugo quickly took the opportunity and stole their headband, groaning and dazed.
At the same time, Yami, Momo, Ochaco, and Hatsume remained untouched in their little corner of the battlefield.
Momo breathed, holding the stolen headband tightly in her fingers. She turned to Yami, smirking. "That's one problem solved."
Yami laughed. "Yeah, but I doubt Dumbass Explosion Monkey is gonna take this lying down."
He was right. The other teams saw what just happened, and now they had a choice: risk everything to fight Yami or back off.
At first, a few more teams made half-hearted attempts. Mineta swung by, likely thrown as a projectile, hoping to snatch the headband with his tape—Momo countered by tossing a nerve gas grenade, making him drop like a rock mid-air, and Yami kicking him back into his team as a sign of "solidarity" for the class.
A kid from Class 1-B tried to sneak up behind them, but Hatsume, having way too much fun, blasted him with a homemade shock blaster, frying his nervous system for a good five seconds.
After watching three separate teams get their shit absolutely wrecked, the rest of the field hesitated. Was this even worth it anymore?
Ochaco, still panting from all the chaos, looked around nervously. "Uh… is it just me, or is no one attacking anymore?"
Momo, still riding on Yami's back, squirmed suddenly.
Yami immediately felt it.
A slow, wet warmth spread between her thighs. It wasn't sweat. It wasn't just regular slickness. His cum was finally leaking out.
She had been holding it in all morning, and now, between the adrenaline, the heat, and the sheer stimulation of sitting on his broad, muscular shoulders, her pussy and plug had given up.
Momo bit her lip hard, stifling a moan as she felt it drip down her inner thighs. It wasn't stopping either—her whole cunt was full of his seed, and now it was pouring out in slow, messy streams.
And then, her tits started leaking.
A faint trickle of milk ran down her cleavage, soaking into her sports bra. Momo's face flushed bright red, her thighs trembling as she clenched around Yami's shoulders.
'Oh god, not now…'
She swallowed hard, fighting to keep her composure. The last thing she needed was to squirt all over Yami's back in front of thousands of people.
Instead, she did the next best thing: made a threat.
Raising her voice, she declared loudly, "ANYONE who comes within ten meters of us will be nerve-gassed, electrocuted, or frozen! I will ruin your day!"
She wasn't bluffing for the bad luck of anyone who thought about snatching Yami's headband.
Ochaco, even though she wasn't a fan of violence, saw the logic. "Y-Yeah, guys, maybe just let this one go!" she called out, trying to sound reasonable.
Hatsume, meanwhile, just cackled. "Oh-ho-ho, this is AWESOME!"
Yami sighed. "Momo, was that a villain impression?"
Momo did not care. She clenched her thighs harder, still desperately fighting off the full-body orgasm creeping up her spine.
And just like that, the battlefield went silent.
Most teams decided it wasn't worth it. Even Bakugo, still seething, stayed put. He knew better than to rush in alone when Yami's team had two war machines watching their perimeter.
The last thirteen minutes passed, with no one daring to approach.
When Midnight's whistle finally blew, the match ended—Yami's team still held onto their ten million points, plus the extra from Bakugo's stolen headband.
Momo exhaled deeply as the stadium erupted in cheers, finally allowing herself to relax. She felt another slow trickle of milk run down her chest, but at least the match was over.
Yami, completely oblivious, smirked at the stunned expressions of their classmates. "Well," he said, stretching his arms. "Don't we have a bunch of pussycats there?"
Momo sighed, resting her chin against his hair; she needed a serious cleanup.
Midnight strutted forward, her hips swaying as she announced the results.
"Iwatani's team takes first place!" she announced to the stadium, and the massive screen displayed the rankings.
"Todoroki's team comes in second, Bakugo's team secures third, and finally, Shinso's team takes fourth!"
Yami barely listened as the crowd roared. He lazily glanced back, only to find Midoriya kneeling on the ground, shaking like a worm, his eyes glistening with tears.
Ochaco and Iida knelt beside him, patting his shoulders, whispering what had to be words of encouragement.
'Aren't they a bundle of something…' Yami thought, unimpressed.
His gaze flickered back to the other teams.
Todoroki's team had Iida, Kaminari, and—surprisingly—Jiro. The latter was standing with her arms crossed, clearly uncomfortable with the attention, but at least she didn't look like she had been put through hell.
Bakugo's team consisted of Kirishima, Sero, and Ashido. Bakugo, as expected, looked pissed beyond belief, his crimson eyes burning with rage as he clenched his fists, looking at Yami.
'He's begging for a whopping'
Then there was Shinso's team. Two randoms and Ojiro, who looked like he had been dragged through the seven layers of hell and spat back out.
His uniform was shredded at the top, dirt and ice covered his arms, and the poor fellow looked seconds away from passing out.
'Did Shinso put Ojiro through some serious shit or what?' Yami thought, slightly concerned for his classmate.
Before he could think too hard about it, Midnight's voice rang out again.
"These four teams will proceed… to the final event!"
The crowd erupted in applause. Yami shrugged, shaking off his thoughts. It didn't matter. Neither Ojiro nor Midoriya weren't his concern.
Midnight clapped her hands together. "We'll proceed to the afternoon portion after a one-hour lunch break!"
With that, the crowd started to settle. Students relaxed, stretching after the tense battle.
"See you then!!" Present Mic's voice boomed through the speakers. "Hey, Eraserhead! Wanna grab some food?"
"I'll take a nap", and with that, the voice speakers shat down.
Yami sighed. "Lunch, huh? Guess I could eat."
Momo, still sitting on his shoulders, groaned. "You still haven't put me down."
Yami smirked. "You seemed comfortable."
Momo glared but didn't argue. Her thighs squeezed around his head slightly before she finally climbed off.
Ochaco jogged up to them, still catching her breath. "That… was insane," she said, panting. "We really won, huh?"
Yami grinned. "Of course we did. Did you think I'd lose?"
Ochaco blushed, looking away. "Well, no… but still!"
Hatsume walked up, adjusting her goggles with a satisfied grin. "That was amazing! My babies performed perfectly!"
Yami ruffled her hair. "Yeah, yeah. You did good, nerd."
Hatsume huffed, puffing her chest out. "Damn right, I did!"
Momo stretched her arms and let out a small sigh. "Well, I'm going to the bathroom," she said, smoothing out her sports uniform and trying to fake composure.
Without hesitation, Ochaco quickly followed. "I'll come too!"
That left Yami and Hatsume standing there, watching the two girls walk off.
Hatsume adjusted her goggles, then turned back to Yami with a grin. "Man, I really liked those grenades Yaoyorozu made," she said, tapping her chin. "Especially the shockwave ones! Those were solid work. Did you help her make those?"
Yami shrugged. "Yeah, I helped her out with the design for the shockwave part, but the nerve agent? No idea. That was all her."
Hatsume's eyes sparkled. "Damn, she's even scarier than I thought," she muttered, clearly impressed. "You're telling me she just—what? Decided to make the first non-lethal explosive in her free time?"
Yami smirked. "Pretty much. Momo's a perfectionist. Once she gets into something, she won't stop until she's made it flawless."
Hatsume chuckled, pushed her goggles up, and leaned in. "So, tell me—how'd you guys design the shockwave effect? I noticed the blast radius was super precise, no wasted energy."
Yami's smirk grew; he didn't really like the nerd talk that much, but studying all night all day can make anyone's brain like that. "Well, the first time I saw it in action, I got twelve of twenty thrown at my face and blown against a wall," he admitted.
Hatsume let out a loud laugh. "Oh man! I knew it was strong, but that's hilarious! So what'd you change after that?"
"I suggested she switch from a timer-based detonation to a contact trigger—less delay, more control. The first version had a small charge buildup, but the energy dispersion wasn't consistent. We fixed that by adjusting the gas mixture inside."
Hatsume nodded rapidly. "Smart, smart! Contact triggers are way better for combat! But wait—gas-based? So the nerve agent was inside them, too?"
"Yup," Yami confirmed. "Multi-purpose design. The shockwave stuns, the nerve gas weakens, and boom—opponent's down before they can process what happened, lived it first hand."
Hatsume let out an impressed hum. "That's beautiful. Brutal, but beautiful."
Yami laughed. "She's way more dangerous than people think."
Eventually, they wandered toward the food stands, both getting ice cream without thinking much about it.
As they walked side by side, Yami casually licked his cone and said, "If you ever need help with funding, Iwatani Industries is always open to supporting promising students."
Hatsume paused mid-lick, her brain catching up to his words. Then she turned to look at him, her expression shifting from casual curiosity to full-blown shock. "Wait a damn minute." She held up a finger. "Iwatani? Like, Iwatani Iwatani? The Iwatani Industries?!"
Yami raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?" he said, like it was obvious. "There aren't that many Iwatanis running around."
Hatsume nearly dropped her ice cream. Instead of freaking out, she did something even weirder—she lunged forward and wrapped her arms around Yami, pressing herself against him in a full-body hug like he was some kind of holy figure.
"You're a goddamn saint," she whispered dramatically. "A martyr. A savior." Then, without hesitation, she leaned in closer and grinned up at him. "And I am soaked right now."
Yami smirked. "You mean from the heat or—"
"You know what I mean," Hatsume cut him off, wagging a finger.
Yami laughed nervously and took another bite of his ice cream.
[Told you to not stick it on crazy]
By the time they finished, Momo and Ochaco returned. Ochaco looked like she had just run a marathon, her face bright red, her hands fidgeting. Whatever happened in that bathroom had clearly rattled her.
Momo, on the other hand, looked relaxed—actually, more than relaxed. She was smiling. Not just her usual polite, composed smile, but a smug, very satisfied smile as she walked up and took Yami's hand like she owned him.
Yami raised an eyebrow. "Something fun happened?" he asked, licking the last of his ice cream.
Momo squeezed his fingers. "Oh, nothing much," she said smoothly, her voice dripping with amusement. "Just girl talk, she helped to "unplug" something I had been carrying for a while."
Ochaco let out a high-pitched squeak and covered her face with her hands.