The air smelled of rain and blood.
The USJ facility was in chaos.
Smoke and fire choked the air as villains poured from the portals, overwhelming students and heroes alike. Screams echoed through the cavernous space, swallowed by the roars of the monstrous Nomu tearing through everything in its path.
Kirishima Eijiro, still just a student, stood in the middle of it all—his breath heavy, his muscles tense, his instincts screaming at him to move.
He had fought villains before. Small-time ones. Thugs. Criminals with more ego than skill.
This was different.
This thing—this Nomu—was built for destruction.
He had watched it swat aside Pro Heroes like insects. Eraserhead was down, blood pooling beneath him. Thirteen had been neutralized. Iida had been sent running for help.
All that was left were them—students, outmatched and barely standing.
And still, Kirishima stood.
His fists clenched. His heart pounded. He could hear Bakugo shouting, Todoroki forming ice walls to slow down enemy forces, Midoriya barely dodging a villain's attack—
But none of that mattered.
Because the Nomu was coming straight for him.
"Oi! Hardhead! Move!" Bakugo's voice cut through the panic.
Kirishima snapped out of it just in time to dodge the first swing. The Nomu's massive arm tore through the ground where he had been standing, sending debris flying. The shockwave alone sent Kirishima skidding backward.
But his gut clenched.
He wasn't fast enough.
The next hit came too quickly.
Kirishima's body reacted before his mind could. Hardening to the absolute limit, he raised his arms in an instinctive block.
The Nomu's punch connected.
The impact was like a meteor strike.
A shockwave rippled through Kirishima's bones. His arms took the brunt of it, but it didn't matter—he was launched like a cannonball, smashing through a concrete pillar before finally hitting the ground. His ears rang. His vision blurred.
Pain.
So much pain.
His arms wouldn't move. His ribs felt like they had shattered. His body—his quirk—had never failed him before.
But this wasn't failure.
This was something else.
His muscles didn't just ache—they throbbed. His nerves weren't just screaming—they were building.
It was a sensation he had never felt before. A pressure beneath his skin. Not just pain, but something waiting to be unleashed.
The Nomu roared, turning to another student. Turning to Midoriya.
No.
Kirishima's fingers curled into the shattered ground beneath him. His breathing was ragged, his heartbeat pounding in his skull. Every ounce of reason told him he couldn't win. That this was beyond him.
He ignored it.
He pushed himself to his feet, dust and rubble falling from his body.
"I'm not done yet."
The Nomu turned back to him, expressionless, a monster with no humanity. It raised a massive arm, ready to end him for good.
Kirishima took a deep breath.
And then, he let go.
All the pain, all the kinetic force he had endured—he released it.
The moment the Nomu's fist connected with his hardened body, a shockwave erupted from the impact point. The force that had built up inside him for every blow he had taken, every hit he had endured, was sent hurtling back with double the power.
The Nomu's entire arm snapped backward, bones and tendons rupturing from the unexpected force. Its body was thrown off balance, its attack failing for the first time.
Kirishima exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders. The pain was gone. The impact had been redirected.
His body wasn't just a shield anymore.
It was a weapon.
Bakugo and Todoroki both hesitated, eyes widening as they watched Kirishima walk forward. Even Midoriya, still struggling to get up, looked stunned.
"Kirishima...?"
But the villain—Shigaraki—noticed too. His lips curled into something between amusement and intrigue.
"Oh? What's this?"
Kirishima wasn't listening. His world had narrowed to one goal.
Take the hit. Return it stronger.
And break everything in his way.
The Nomu recovered, its rapid regeneration fixing the damage within seconds. It roared and lunged again, swinging both arms down in a hammering motion, intent on flattening him into dust.
Kirishima met the attack head-on.
He braced.
And the moment the blows connected—
Impact Drive.
The stored force tripled.
The Nomu was forced back, its massive frame skidding across the concrete as the force of its own power rebounded against it. It staggered, muscles twitching as it tried to move forward.
Kirishima charged.
His fists met flesh, his strikes fueled by the last remnants of his stored energy. Each impact cracked the Nomu's skin, sent tremors through its body. For the first time, it wasn't in control.
He was pushing it back.
But his advantage was fleeting.
The energy was draining, the explosive power that had fueled his attacks fading fast. He could feel it slipping, the ache in his limbs returning, the raw exhaustion creeping in like ice in his veins.
The Nomu was still regenerating. Still recovering. He wasn't fast enough.
Kirishima gritted his teeth as he swung again, but this time—
The Nomu caught his fist.
A crack echoed through the battlefield.
Pain shot up Kirishima's arm as the monster tightened its grip. Its hollow eyes stared down at him, its expression unreadable.
His power had run out.
He had held it back. He had stopped it.
But he couldn't finish it.
A deep, guttural chuckle from Shigaraki broke through the silence.
"That's more like it," he mused, watching as the Nomu lifted Kirishima from the ground, fingers pressing into his flesh.
Kirishima struggled, but he could feel it—his strength was slipping, his body screaming in protest.
He had held his own. He had fought like hell.
But now, it was his turn to take the beating.
And this time… there was no stored power left to save him.