Chapter 38

Hero Academia:

Izuku Midoriya stood at the pinnacle of his world, his name whispered throughout U.A. High as a rising force. His rapid progress had stunned both friends and rivals alike. The transformation in his body, the finesse in his movements—everything about him exuded strength and confidence.

Gone was the timid, stuttering boy who had once idolized heroes from afar. Now, he was becoming one, but not just any hero. His vision had expanded beyond Japan, beyond even the ideals of All Might.

His new idol was Naruto Uzumaki—The Emperor of Mankind.

After learning of Naruto's conquests, his philosophy, and his power, Izuku realized something. Why settle for being the greatest hero on Earth, when there was a whole universe out there?

That mindset had led him here, to this moment.

A week had passed since his last battle with Katsuki Bakugou, a fight meant to shake his old friend awake. And it worked. Bakugou had been training harder than ever, his sharp red eyes locked on Izuku at all times.

Izuku smirked at the thought, his emerald eyes glinting with something borderline mischievous. Ah, Kacchan… I missed your attention so much.

Yet, deep down, he didn't realize how much he had changed. The influence of the chat group, of the powerful figures around him, had subtly twisted his mindset. He was still a hero, but his definition of 'heroism' had begun to warp.

Still smiling, he made his way toward the arena. The U.A. students had gathered, excitement buzzing in the air.

Hero students were battle fanatics—they loved a good fight, whether as spectators or participants. And this was no ordinary fight.

This was Midoriya vs. Bakugou—Round 2.

Katsuki Bakugou stood in the center of the field, arms crossed, explosions crackling at his fingertips. His combat uniform clung to his battle-ready frame, his posture tense.

Izuku approached with an easy, almost casual grace, like a predator eyeing his prey.

"Hello, Kacchan. I hope you had a good sleep yesterday."

The friendly tone and wide smile only irked Bakugou further.

Izuku used to be someone he could step on, someone who would always be behind him. But now?

Now, that very same weakling walked as an equal—no, as a superior.

Bakugou felt a familiar heat rise in his veins—frustration, rage… but also excitement.

"Cut the chit-chat, nerd. Let me show you your place."

With an aggressive slap, he knocked Izuku's extended hand away and stepped back into his stance.

Izuku chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, I'll be having that handshake later then."

They moved to their positions.

Izuku's mind sharpened. His body coiled like a loaded spring.

'My speed of growth will push others to work harder.'

His smirk widened.

'Let them witness the success of hard work.'

As the buzzer rang, Izuku vanished.

Katsuki's eyes widened, his instincts screaming at him to move.

Too late.

A shockwave shaped like a slashing blade tore through the air, aimed straight at him.

"THE HELL?!"

Reacting on pure battle instincts, Bakugou blasted himself sideways, dodging just in time. But when the dust settled, his stomach clenched at the sight.

A deep trench had been carved into the battlefield where he had stood a second ago.

If that had hit—his bones would have shattered.

But instead of fear, he felt pure, burning anger.

"THAT WOULD'VE BROKEN ME, YOU DAMN NERD!"

Without hesitation, he blasted forward, zigzagging through the air in an unpredictable pattern.

Izuku watched with calm detachment, his casual grace unshaken.

As Bakugou closed in, Izuku moved.

Fast.

A precise claw-like grip lashed out, catching Bakugou's wrist mid-flight.

BOOM!

An explosion erupted, but Izuku had already shifted, redirecting the force away.

A flash of movement—a knee to the gut.

The wind left Bakugou's lungs.

His vision blurred.

Before he could recover, another hit landed.

Everything went dark.

"Game over, Kacchan. Sleep tight."

Izuku gently lowered Bakugou's unconscious body onto the ground, brushing off his uniform.

He had won.

He had dominated.

As he looked toward the cheering crowd, his eyes flickered over the faces. Admiration. Shock. Awe.

Then, the girls rushed toward him, eyes sparkling.

Izuku felt a small twitch of amusement. 'So this is what Issei was talking about…'

For a brief moment, his thoughts drifted.

"Who do I even like?"

…He didn't know yet.

But he had all the time in the world to figure it out.

DC World:

Naruto had been feeling strange ever since he started meeting Didi. It was a peculiar, almost nostalgic sensation, something he hadn't experienced in a long time.

For someone like him—an emperor, a warrior, a immortal in all but name—emotions were rarely an enigma. Yet, here he was, trying to decipher the feelings that stirred whenever she was near.

The woman in question, Didi—Death of the Endless, tilted her head at his pensive expression. Her raven-black hair framed her pale yet radiant face, and those ancient, knowing eyes twinkled with amusement.

"Didi, what do you think?" he finally asked, breaking the silence between them.

Didi placed a delicate finger to her lips, as if pondering something profound, before flashing him a teasing smile.

"Hmm, maybe it's love."

Naruto nearly choked on air.

"No, no! Didi is nothing more than a friend," he declared, shaking his head rapidly. His golden locks ruffled slightly, adding to the dramatic effect. "I am not in love with her. One does not fall in love with a girl whom one has met only a few times. One is attracted, yes, but one does not fall in love."

He paused, then continued in a confident, almost philosophical tone.

"A moment's reflection will enable you to diagnose my sensations correctly. This odd impulse to leap across the universe and kiss Didi is not love. It is merely the natural desire of a good-hearted young man to be decently chummy with his species."

Didi burst into laughter, her melodic giggles filling the space between them.

Naruto grinned at her reaction, his own amusement growing. There was something about her presence, about the way she found humor in his words, that made him feel at ease.

It had been a long time since he had felt this way about anyone besides his wives.

The thought made his chest tighten ever so slightly.

Didi, for her part, found him utterly fascinating. It wasn't every day that someone met Death and treated her like… well, a woman.

Most beings either feared her, revered her, or simply accepted their fate in her presence.

But Naruto?

Naruto joked with her, teased her, flirted with her—as if she were just another girl, as if she weren't one of the most powerful forces in existence.

He made her laugh.

And that was rare.

"You're quite the charmer, you know that?" Didi mused, watching him with bright eyes.

Naruto's grin widened. He took her hand gently, pressing a soft kiss to her pale knuckles.

"Only for the most beautiful beings in existence."

Didi smiled.

Oh, this was going to be interesting.

DXD

Yasaka sighed, rubbing her temples as she stepped out of yet another excruciatingly boring meeting with her advisors. It was the same tedious cycle—political nonsense, regulations, and discussions that led nowhere.

If only shadow clones were a thing here, she thought with mild exasperation. At this rate, I might have to murder something in sheer envy.

As she entered the courtyard, her golden eyes immediately lit up at the sight before her.

Kurama sat casually on a bench, his massive presence somehow both commanding and relaxed. Kunou sat on his lap, happily sucking on a lollipop, her little legs swinging back and forth.

"Kurama," Yasaka greeted warmly, feeling her exhaustion lessen just at the sight of him.

The great fox looked up, a lazy grin spreading across his face. "Hello, Yasaka. Tough day at work?"

Before she could respond, she felt a warm, soothing energy wash over her. Kurama's chakra extended toward her like an invisible embrace, melting away her fatigue.

"Ooooh, that feels good," Yasaka murmured, her tails twitching slightly in appreciation. "Thanks. And yes—affirmative. Kurama, have you any wool?"

Kurama smirked, catching on to the playful tone. "I've got just the right skill for that."

Leaning forward slightly, he adopted an absurdly serious expression, as if about to impart some great wisdom.

"This is a survival technique for getting through seemingly intolerable situations—boring lunches, stern lectures on attitude or time management, those necessary breakup conversations, and the like. Pay attention, for this is a secret passed down by generations of professionals in the art of enduring absolute nonsense."

Yasaka raised an eyebrow, intrigued, while Kunou giggled in his lap.

"First, maintain eye contact. Keep your face inscrutable and mask-like, with the faintest hint of a Gioconda smile. Keep this up as long as possible, and just as you feel you're about to crack and grab a letter opener to stab someone in the neck—"

Kunou gasped dramatically, while Yasaka smirked.

"—fold your hands in your lap. One nestled inside the other, like a supplicant in a priory. Now, with the index finger of your inner hand, write on the palm of the other, very discreetly and undetectably, 'I hate you. I hate you. I hate you…' over and over again as you pretend to listen. You will find that this brings a spontaneous look of interest and engagement to your countenance."

He leaned back, nodding as if he had just revealed the greatest secret of the universe.

"Continue and repeat as necessary."

There was a beat of silence.

"Hmmm," Yasaka hummed.

"Hmmm," Kunou mimicked.

Then, Yasaka tilted her head. "Don't you think that's a bit much for little kids?"

Kurama scoffed. "Nah. Kunou is my lovely little fox. Of course she needs to know how to have some fun."

His grin widened slightly. 'I would also recommend actually stabbing them and repeating the scenario until you can control time.'

Kunou gasped. "Like a time loop!?"

"Exactly."

Yasaka chuckled, shaking her head. "Your presence really brightens things up, you know. How do you maintain such a youthful demeanor?"

Kurama smirked, his red eyes gleaming mischievously.

"What can I say? When I walk into a room, you'd think I was one of those long, straight Tetris pieces—because everyone's just like, 'Oh great, you're here! We've been waiting for you to show up.'"

Yasaka laughed. "Basically an essential piece to the equation."

Kurama bumped his fist against hers. "You get me, girl."

And just like that, Yasaka felt lighter. Politics and responsibility could wait. Right now, she was content—surrounded by warmth, laughter, and the easy camaraderie of a fox who refused to take life too seriously.

DBZ:

Vegeta stood rigid, sweat rolling down his temple as three monstrous figures approached with a suffocating bloodlust. His body, battered and bruised, refused to move as his instincts screamed at him to fight—or flee.

Yet, he could do neither.

For the first time in years, the Prince of all Saiyans felt powerless.

So this is it...

He clenched his fists, his pride screaming in defiance even as logic whispered that there was no escape.

"So this is it," Vegeta muttered, voice eerily calm despite the storm raging inside him. His gaze remained locked on their approaching demise. "We are going to die."

Beside him, Nappa—his ever-faithful, though questionably intelligent companion—let out a heavy sigh.

"Yes," Nappa admitted, voice laced with acceptance. But then—"Except… no! Wait a minute!"

Vegeta's head snapped toward him in an instant, his heart pounding as he saw Nappa suddenly lunge forward, his hulking form moving with unexpected speed.

"What's this switch?!" Nappa cried out, pointing dramatically at something just behind Vegeta's line of vision.

Hope—the cruelest of emotions—ignited in Vegeta's chest.

"What? Where?!" he barked, twisting around desperately, eyes scanning the battlefield for this miraculous switch that could somehow turn the tide in their favor.

He saw nothing.

Then—

"No, I was only fooling," Nappa said, his tone flat and entirely unbothered.

A smirk—no, a shit-eating grin—formed on the bald brute's face as he shrugged.

"We are going to die after all."

Vegeta froze. His entire body stiffened as realization settled in.

The hope in his eyes snapped like a brittle twig.

Silence.

A vein bulged on Vegeta's forehead.

And then—

"NAPPA!!!"

The ground shook as the enraged prince launched a furious punch straight at his companion's face, sending the bald Saiyan crashing through several mountains.

Meanwhile, the three approaching monsters paused, blinking in mild confusion.

Even in the face of death—Saiyans truly never changed.