Chapter Text
The Sports Festival.
By far, U.A.’s largest event. Even their other events, such as the Entrance Exam or the Culture Festival, pale in comparison to the Sport’s Festival. The Sports Festival is the thing to see—Japan’s modern Olympics. Every single student across every single grade will get a chance to show not just all of Japan, but the whole world what they are made of. An opportunity for students to show off their Quirks, to begin the endless process of proving themselves to be worthy of the title of hero, to catch the attention of professionals and agencies who might scout them one day.
It's the event, for both the students, and all the audience members.
Though, Izuku can’t help but feel a little jealousy take over as he walks through the crowds at the Sports Festival. Most of the students are crowded away in their respective arenas, the crowds being made of a mixture of family and friends, and pro-heroes, of course. The opening ceremony for the first-year class, the one that Izuku specifically has a ticket to, starts in about thirty minutes, so he has time to wander around the crowds.
Due to the way the Sports Festival is being held, most of the attendees are professional heroes, or family members of the students. There are a few kids closer to Izuku’s age, too; mostly younger siblings or friends of students participating, but it’s not like Izuku can just walk up to anybody and say, hey, how are you, I’m Izuku. No, that’s awkward, and Izuku is notoriously bad at making friends.
Being around the heroes is more nerve-wracking than he thought it’d be. After meeting up with Hitoshi’s dad (since they both got the tickets from Hitoshi, their seats are next to each other, and it is a little awkward to be sitting next to his best friend’s dad but whatever Izuku is at the Sports Festival so who cares), Izuku wanted to take a second to look around. Typical Sports Festivals would have U.A. merch, featuring some of the more marketable upperclassmen who might have already made early brand deals, and many, many different food tents, but due to their limitations this year, there’s no merch.
There’s still a lot of food tents, and Izuku passes by a few that sell non-Japanese food, like hotdogs and popcorn.
Popcorn! The last time Izuku had popcorn was—well, a long time ago. He digs into his pockets, searching for his wallet, when someone bumps into him from behind.
“Oh, excuse me, young man.”
“O-Oh, no, you’re fine!” Izuku immediately stutters over his words, turning to apologize to the person who hit ran into him instead (knowing himself, he’s probably standing right in the middle of the flow of the crowd), but his voice gives out when he sees the man behind him.
Be realistic.
--You can’t be a hero--
Izuku isn’t quite sure that All Might recognizes him—though, Izuku could barely recognize All Might in this shrunken form of his.
He’d almost forgotten about learning the greatest hero’s most ashamed secret, his own identity. An injury from many years before Izuku was even a thought in his mother’s mind, crippling the number one hero further and further. It wasn’t the main detail that stuck in Izuku’s mind after meeting him, though. It was the other things that All Might said—
You can’t be a hero.
Wonder if that injury hit his brain somehow, a snarky part of Izuku thinks, though, mostly he stays quiet, because there’s something different about All Might now, in his shrunken form.
The shrunken man nervously clears his throat, bringing Izuku’s attention back from the depths of his mind. “A-Are you alright?”
Izuku is a little surprised by the strange, deadpan respond he hears come out of his own mouth. “I’m fine. Sorry. Have a good day.” And he turns to look back at the popcorn, trying to put the thoughts out of his head, but his core is buzzing with too many emotions. Anger, resentment, sadness, pain, triumph, you can’t be a hero you can’t be a hero—
All Might awkwardly shuffles away, and Izuku took a moment to take a deep breath. He’d told Hitoshi nearly everything about the day he had died, but some things are still staying a secret. Of course, All Might’s words did not drive him to his Accident—emphasis on the accident part—but they’re a part of what drives him. Plus, if Izuku admitted to Hitoshi that All Might is not as good of a hero as he actually is (see: leaving Izuku on his own after being attacked by a villain and then shortly leaving him on a rooftop)—he doesn’t want to ruin All Might’s reputation, as much as he’d like to knock the man down a peg.
After staring at the popcorn sign for a few minutes, he finally feels the buzzing in his chest easing. The poor minimum wage employee of the popcorn stand is staring at Izuku like he’d just crawled out of his grave, and now Izuku feels even worse, so he orders a small bag of plain, non-buttery popcorn and heads back to the bleachers by Hitoshi’s dad.
✨👻✨
“CAN I GET A HEYYYY?! IT’S TIME FOR THE FIRST-YEAR EVENTS TO BEGIN!”
✨👻✨
Hitoshi isn’t quite sure what to expect with the first event. Of course, he’d watched Sports Festivals before—and Izuku made sure they went over the highlights of the last few years to “study” before today—but they were always different and varied. Last year, the first-years had to deal with an obstacle course, followed by a cavalry battle; the year before, it was a triathlon followed by a game of cricket. The events would follow similar structures, some sort of large, race-like game followed by a team game to weed out the top 16 before the tournament matches.
There was a pattern, simply put. And with Hitoshi’s best guess, it would be the same this year, too. Though, it would be just his rotten luck if things suddenly changed.
Iida all runs through the door to alert everybody that they’ve been called out to the opening ceremony.
“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, I’m so nervous!” Uraraka squeals next to him as Iida attempts to organize everybody into a single line. He takes his elected job of class vice president rather well; Yayorozu looks exasperated at his attempts, but she doesn’t do much to stop him. “How are you keeping so cool, Shinsou?”
“I’m not cool.” Hitoshi deadpans. Because the truth is, he isn’t—Hitoshi is absolutely dying inside. “I’m freaking out, too.”
“Wow, Shinsou-kun.” Tsuyu comments from in front of him (her efforts to get him to call her by her first name finally won over Hitoshi’s stubbornness to not). At least a few people are trying to organize together following Iida’s orders, even if it isn’t a perfect single file line. “You’re hiding it really well.”
Hitoshi doesn’t feel like he’s hiding it really well, and all he can offer to her is a shrug in return as they step out into the middle of the arena.
“The first ones out on the field are none other than Class 1-A! These students may not look like much, but they already have the experience of handling low-rate villains.”
It’s not as packed as he would have expected. It looks like most seats are filled, and he might be able to spot Izuku’s nest of green hair somewhere in the crowds if he looks close enough. But the seats aren’t all completely filled, with rows at the top completely empty, and a few sections at the front of the stadium sectioned off (probably for the students who lose).
“Don’t let it fool ya—Class 1-B isn’t one to scoff at either! All these students fought tooth and nail to get into U.A. to begin with, after all!”
The following announcements for the other classes fade into background noise as Hitoshi takes a nervous glance around.
A small stage has been set up in the center of the arena, and Midnight stands in the center of it, holding a microphone. Two large stereos sit on both ends of it, and she smiles as not only Class 1-A emerges from the sides, but so do the other first year classes. Both hero classes, all three general education classes, and three support classes converge in the middle together.
The business class students are notably absent, but Hitoshi figures they have better things to do, like mooching around with heroes in the stands, than participate in an active event.
“There you have it, folks! All first-year classes are accounted for! And now, our umpire Midnight will introduce the top student for the opening statement!”
Top student? Hitoshi narrows his eyes. Who would the top student be? Obviously not him, because Hitoshi isn’t top anything. He barely made it into Class 1-A as it was; he’s in the middle of the class grades wise, and he isn’t spectacular. Iida, maybe, or Yayorozu? Or maybe even Todoroki, though the son of the number two hero hasn’t really talked much—
“Alright, kids!” Midnight’s voice could carry on its own, no speakers necessary, but Hitoshi wasn’t expecting how loud it would be. “Representing the first-year students is the top score on the entrance exam this year—Bakugou Katsuki!”
Oh. Oh, oh no. Hitoshi doesn’t like the sound of it. He hears a few of his fellow Class 1-A students gasp, as Bakugou steps forward and up onto the stage, slouching the whole way.
This isn’t going to be good.
Midnight holds the mic out to him, and after a brief second of hesitation, Bakugou takes it. He looks out into the crowd, and for a moment, it seems—maybe he’ll actually say something nice?
“I’m going to beat you all.” He says.
Gasps echo out through the rest of the classes, and a few yell out. Hitoshi doesn’t know why he actually had hope for something nice coming out of Bakugou’s mouth.
“Hey, what the heck!?”
“Stop messing around!”
“Why so rude, dude?”
“You sludge bastard!”
“I knew Class 1-A was full of themselves!”
Ah, so Hitoshi wasn’t just imagining things, either; the other classes were all looking at them funny. He’d gotten used to the sensation because of his Quirk, but it made more sense that the ire was directed at everybody in his class. With the glorious introduction they received from Present Mic when they entered to Bakugou’s stupid-ass speech, Hitoshi knows that he’s going to be in for a fun time.
He doesn’t even take a second to say anything else. Bakugou drops the mic on the ground, resulting in instant feedback, and jumps off the side of the stage as Midnight quickly grabs the mic. It’s an effective heel turn, and Hitoshi kinda admires Bakugou for having the guts to even do it, but the way it’s painting a target on the back of every single member of Class 1-A isn’t fun.
“Well! What great…. Words!” Midnight recovers it quickly, at least. “With that out of the way, let’s get started with the first event! This what some may call the qualifying round—only the first eighty of you will be getting through!”
Only the first eighty? There had to be way more students than that around them. Hitoshi couldn’t count them all, of course, but if each class had twenty students, it could be almost two-hundred students. To cull that many that quickly? It makes him a little more nervous, especially given his lack of a particularly strong Quirk.
You have a great Quirk, Hitoshi! Izuku’s voice echoes in his head. Hitoshi glances up to the crowds, trying to spot the nest of green hair, among them. You can do this! I believe in you!
Well, having one of the best vigilantes out there rooting for him does boost his spirits a bit, pun not intended.
“Now! Here is the fateful first game!” A holographic screen pops up behind Midnight. Kanji blurs for a second, before it lands on the first event.
LABYRINTH.
…Labyrinth?
“Ah! The labyrinth! Or, more simply put, a maze!”
A maze. The first round of the Sports Festival is going to be a maze?
There’s more to this, I know it. How else are they going to literally cull more than half the students standing?
“This game is inspired by the Greek myth of legend, except, there’s a twist! Instead of starting at the outside of the maze, you all will be starting at the center and finding your way out!”
As Midnight finishes her sentence, the ground begins to rumble a bit. Hitoshi feels something in his chest sink. It’s under us. The maze is under us. And sure enough, only a few seconds later, large maze walls rise from the ground beneath them, at least ten to fifteen feet tall. Smooth stone as well, making it harder to climb.
“As for the specific rules, anything goes! Do whatever you can to get out of the maze! Oh, and just a fair warning—watch out for the bulls!” The ground rumbles again, the distant sound of machinery whirring in the distance.
“A labyrinth? This is so scary!”
“They didn’t bring in actual bulls, did they?”
“I don’t think they would. I’m sure it’s just robots again.”
Robots. Hitoshi sighs. Here we go again.