Shoto Todoroki stood alone in the center of the arena. He'd been standing there for three minutes.
Midnight tapped her whip against her thigh, glancing toward the tunnel.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN," Present Mic's voice boomed, trying to fill the awkward silence,
"WE ARE EXPERIENCING A BRIEF DELAY! IT SEEMS FINALIST HARUTO AKAGI HAS NOT YET ARRIVED AT THE ARENA!"
The crowd murmured. Some booed. Some laughed.
Todoroki's eye twitched.
"Todoroki-kun," Midnight called out. "Would you like to wait, or—"
"I'll wait."
Another minute passed.
The crowd was getting restless. Someone started a slow clap. It died immediately.
Then—
Footsteps echoed from the tunnel.
Haruto Akagi jogged out onto the arena floor, still pulling on his second boot. His hair was a mess. He looked like he'd just woken up from a nap and realized he was late for something important.
"Sorry!" he called out, hopping on one foot as he yanked the boot into place. "Sorry, sorry, sorry. Couldn't find my shoes."
The crowd stared.
Midnight stared.
Todoroki stared.
Haruto stomped his feet a few times, settling into the boots, then looked up at Midnight with a wide grin.
"What? You've never lost your shoes before? It's a very real problem. Athletes everywhere struggle with it. Michael Jordan had a whole movie about his shoes."
"You're four minutes late."
"Fashionably late. There's a difference."
Todoroki's eye twitched again. "Are you done?"
"Almost." Haruto reached into his pocket and pulled out a protein bar. Took a bite. Chewed. Put the rest back in his pocket.
"Now I'm done."
Present Mic's voice cracked over the speakers. "OKAY THEN! FINAL MATCH! SHOTO TODOROKI VERSUS HARUTO AKAGI! READY?"
Todoroki nodded.
Haruto gave a thumbs up, still chewing.
"BEGIN!"
Todoroki slammed his right foot down.
Ice exploded across the arena floor in a massive wave, rushing toward Haruto.
Haruto moved before the ice could reach him.
He sidestepped the initial thrust, then backpedaled as Todoroki sent another wave. The ice kept chasing him across the arena. But Haruto was just ahead of it, his eyes tracking the patterns.
"Akagi isn't engaging at all! He's just running!"
Present mic shouted
"He's analyzing," Aizawa's voice cut in.
"Todoroki's ice is fast, but it's predictable. He always attacks from the feet up. Akagi is looking for an opening."
Another wave surged forward. This time, Haruto didn't dodge.
He kicked.
His foot connected with the leading edge of the ice. There was a sharp CRACK. The ice shattered on impact, fragments exploding outward.
The crowd gasped.
"Did he just... kick through Todoroki's ice?!" Present Mic yelled.
He kicked again, shattering another chunk, then scooped up a jagged shard from the ground.
Without breaking stride, he hurled it like a throwing knife.
The ice shard whistled through the air. Todoroki's eyes widened. He threw up a wall of ice to block it.
Todoroki's expression shifted slightly in annoyance.
"Annoying," he muttered.
He raised his right foot and brought it down harder.
A glacier surged forward. A massive one. There was no dodging this one—it covered the entire width of the arena, leaving no room to sidestep.
Haruto stopped running.
He planted his back foot, lifted his right leg, and drove a front kick straight into the heart of the glacier.
CRACK.
Big Shards of ice flew in every direction. The glacier split clean down the middle. Haruto stood in the center of the destruction, his leg still extended.
The stadium was dead silent.
"HE FRONT KICKED A GLACIER! A FRONT KICK! IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE!?" Present Mic's voice was hysterical.
Aizawa was quiet for a moment. Then he sighed "...I have too many problem children."
Haruto lowered his leg, shaking off the ice crystals.
He kept walking.
Every time Todoroki sent another wave of ice, he either dodged it or kicked it apart.
Occasionally, he used the shards as projectiles—chunks of ice flying back at Todoroki like a hail of knives.
Todoroki blocked them with more ice. But each block cost him. Each wave cost him. His breathing was getting heavier. The frost on his right side was creeping higher up his body.
"Still not using it?" Haruto sighed,
"You used it against Midoriya? That's pure favoritism, Shoto. I'm hurt"
"Is it the 'it belongs to you' speech? That's boring. Next you'll want me to braid your hair and sing 'We Are the Champions.' Sorry, but no. Now hit me with the heat."
He didn't respond.
Todoroki looked down. Frost was creeping up his right arm, his right shoulder, the right side of his neck. His movements were getting stiff.
Haruto sighed. "Alright. Fine. We're doing this the hard way."
He stopped dodging.
Todoroki sent another wave. Haruto planted his feet and front-kicked through it—but this time he didn't stop. He kept moving forward, shattering the ice waves.
Todoroki's eyes widened. He threw up a wall. Haruto kicked through it. Another wall. The same thing happened.
And then Haruto was there. Right in front of him.
"Hello there," Haruto said.
Todoroki swung his right arm—ice exploding from his palm at point-blank range.
Haruto caught his wrist.
The ice froze around Haruto's hand, his forearm, his elbow. But he didn't let go.
Todoroki raised his left foot to stomp, but Haruto was faster. He swept Todoroki's standing leg, and they both crashed onto the frozen ground.
Haruto was on top of him in an instant, one knee pinning Todoroki's chest, one hand still gripping his right wrist.
"Use it," Haruto said.
Todoroki's right hand twitched at his side. Frost covered his fingers. His whole right side was shaking.
"No."
Haruto punched him in the face.
"Use it."
"No."
He hit him again. Harder this time.
"USE IT."
"No!"
Haruto's fist pulled back for another strike—and stopped an inch from Todoroki's face.
Todoroki flinched anyway.
Haruto stared at him. Todoroki stared back, breathing hard, frost creeping up his neck, his right side completely stiff.
Haruto looked directly at the nearest 'camera'.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Haruto Akagi Emotional Support Hotline. Please hold while I teach this guy how to use his fire powers like a functioning human being."
He turned back to Todoroki.
The smirk was gone.
His hand pulled back, fingers curled into a fist. But this wasn't the same punch from before.
This one was different.
Todoroki saw it in Haruto's eyes. The humor had drained away.
"You think I'm joking?" Haruto's voice was flat.
"I'm not."
Todoroki's breath caught. Frost covered his right arm, his right shoulder, the right side of his neck. He couldn't move. Couldn't block. Couldn't do anything but watch that fist hang in the air, waiting.
"You have two choices," Haruto said. "Use the fire. Or don't."
He leaned closer.
Todoroki's heart pounded. His vision blurred at the edges. This wasn't a joke.
And for the first time in years—
He was afraid.
Todoroki's body moved before his mind could catch up.
Survival. The oldest instinct in the book.
Fight back or die.
Then it happened.
Flame.
A torrent of fire erupted from Todoroki's left hand which was gripping Haruto's forearm.
The sheer volume of the fire was intense, swallowing Haruto's whole arm.
The crowd gasped.
Haruto didn't scream, nor did he flinch.
"There he is," he said. "Took you long enough."
With his free hand, he reached down and scooped up a chunk of shattered ice from the ground. Casual. Like he was picking up a dropped napkin.
He pressed the ice against his burning forearm.
Hiss.
Steam exploded outward. The fire sputtered, then died as the cold met the heat. Haruto's arm was a mess, but he just looked at it, then at Todoroki.
Todoroki's eyes were wide. His left hand was still extended, still trembling. He looked at Haruto's arm, and his face went pale.
"I...I didn't..."
"No kidding." Haruto flexed his healing fingers. The skin was knitting back together.
"You just torched me. On accident. That's my arm, by the way. Thanks for that."
He held up the still-smoking limb.
"Imagine this but with a civilian. Or your sidekick. Or a puppy. Very bad Shoto.
Learn to control the fire or stay away from people with squishy, non-regenerating organs."
He patted Todoroki's shoulder.
"Now forfeit. I'm hungry."
Todoroki stared at him. At the healing arm. At his own trembling hands. He couldn't continue, he was drained both physically and mentally.
"I... I forfeit."
The stadium erupted.
"TODOROKI HAS FORFEITED!" Present Mic screamed. "AKAGI WINS—"
"Hold on."
Midnight's voice cut through. She was walking toward Haruto, eyes on his feet.
"Uh oh. I know that look. That's the 'I'm about to ruin your day' look."
"Akagi. Your shoes. Take them off."
Haruto sighed. "Right now? In front of everyone? You're kinkier than I thought, Midnight-sensei."
"Also, I'm pretty sure there's a law against this. Somewhere."
"Now."
"Fine."
He pulled off a shoe, handed it over. Midnight turned it over. Reached into the sole.
Click.
Spikes.
The crowd gasped.
"Dun dun DUN! Plot twist! Who could have seen this coming? Besides everyone"
"Unauthorized modifications," Midnight said. "You're disqualified."
Haruto shrugged. "Figured."
He stood up. One barefoot and a shredded uniform. Grinning.
"I've been planning this since page one. You didn't really think I was trying to win, did you?"
"Didn't need them anyway. Just wanted to see what would happen. A small social experiment."
He looked at Midnight, then at the judges' box, then at the nearest camera. Then he raised his free hand and made a small "gimme" gesture toward the drone hovering near the edge of the arena.
He pointed the boot at Midnight like a microphone.
"Quick question. If a villain is about to stab a baby, and the only way to stop him is to break some rules, am I allowed? Or do I have to let the baby get stabbed because of procedure? Asking for a friend. The friend is me. I'm the baby. I'm also the villain. It's complicated. Just tell me if the paperwork is worth more than the infant."
Midnight pinched the bridge of her nose. "That's not—"
"No, no, I get it. Rules are rules. Very important. Can't have chaos. Next thing you know, people would be saving lives without the proper authorization. The horror."
He started walking toward the tunnel, one bare foot slapping on the ice.
"Oh, and one more thing!" He called back without turning.
"To all the hero course students watching: remember. Saving people is great. But following the rules is greater. Because nothing says 'hero' like blind obedience to authority. That's the real Plus Ultra."
He paused at the tunnel entrance, looked back one last time.
"Thanks for coming to my TED Talk. Don't forget to smash that like button and subscribe for more hero society critiques. Plus ultra, my ass."
And then he disappeared into the darkness, his uneven footsteps echoing, while humming 'Let it go'.
The stadium sat in stunned silence for a beat. Then the noise returned — laughing, applauding, booing. A mess.
The message had been delivered. And the kid with one bare foot was already gone.
***
The tunnel was dim and cool, a stark contrast to the roaring stadium behind him.
Haruto limped along—one bare foot, one booted—when a small figure stepped out of the shadows.
"Akagi-kun."
Nezu stood with his paws clasped behind his back, whiskers twitching. His eyes gleamed with amusement.
"Principal." Haruto didn't stop walking. "If you're here to give me a detention, can it wait? I need to find some socks."
Nezu fell into step beside him, surprisingly quick for his stature. "I'm here to ask you a question. Do you think the disqualification was unfair?"
Haruto snorted. "Unfair? Please. I broke the rules. I knew I was breaking the rules. I wanted to break the rules. Getting caught was the whole point."
Nezu's ears perked up. "Really?"
Haruto stopped, turned to face him. Grinning.
"I could've asked for permission. Walked down to the Support Department, filled out a little form. They probably would've approved it. Or not. Who knows? Bureaucracy is a mystery."
He tapped the spiked boot - the one on his foot.
"But following the rules and winning? That's just... Boring. On the other hand, breaking the rules and still winning? And then getting disqualified for something that didn't even matter?"
He spread his arms wide.
"That's a statement. That's a headline. That's entertainment."
Haruto leaned down, getting eye-level with Nezu.
"Look, normally, I wouldn't care. Like, at all. I'd be home right now, arguing with a voice in my head about whether a hot dog is a sandwich. But consider this a free lesson. Think of it as community service."
Nezu tilted his head. "A lesson about what, exactly?"
Haruto tapped his chest.
"The system wants kids to think there's a clear line. Heroes good. Villains bad. Rules are law. Black and white. Very neat. Very tidy. Very boring."
He gestured back toward the stadium.
"But the real world is messy. And if you train heroes to only see black and white, they're gonna freeze up the second things get complicated."
Nezu was quiet for a long moment. Then his whiskers twitched into a small smile.
"So you sacrificed your victory to make that point?"
Haruto shrugged. "I don't really care about a trophy. So it doesn't matter."
He turned and continued his uneven walk down the tunnel—slap, click, slap, click—then paused.
"Oh, and Principal? Thanks for playing along. I know you could've let it slide. But you didn't. That's smart."
Nezu raised a paw in a small wave. "Plus ultra, Akagi-kun."
Haruto waved without looking back. "Yeah, yeah. Plus ultra. Someone should put that on a T-shirt. They'd make millions."
His uneven footsteps faded into the darkness, leaving Nezu standing alone in the dim light, whiskers twitching, paws still clasped behind his back.
"A troublesome student," Nezu murmured. Then, softer: "But perhaps exactly what we need."
From the darkness, Haruto's voice echoed back one last time.
"I heard that! And you're welcome!"
Nezu smiled.