Chapter 42: U.A Sports Festival: Tournament [4]

Yami yawned as he walked into the tunnel, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets. He was heading toward the break room, barely paying attention to where he was going. 

The adrenaline from his last match had worn off, leaving him both wired and tired. As he passed by Momo, who was stretching and getting ready for her upcoming match, he couldn't resist being himself.

"Good luck, Cow," Yami smirked, giving her a hard slap on the ass.

Momo gasped, glaring at him, though her face flushed pink. "You're insufferable."

Yami just chuckled and kept walking, waving over his shoulder. "You love it."

He heard her muttering something under her breath, probably calling him an idiot again, but he didn't care. His grin lingered as he made his way toward the break room.

When he stepped inside, the atmosphere hit him like a brick wall.

Ojiro sat in one of the chairs, arms crossed, looking serious, while Iida sat stiffly beside him, head bowed low, his glasses slipping down his nose. The energy in the room felt... heavy.

Yami raised an eyebrow. "Sup? Everything okay?" he asked casually as he pulled out a chair and dropped into it. With a soft crack, he petrified his legs, relaxing fully.

He glanced between Ojiro and Iida. He knew Ojiro had put up a good fight earlier and that Iida had lost in a pretty embarrassing way to Shinso. 

Yami wasn't really in the mood to bring that up. But before he could think of something better to say, he noticed Iida's shoulders shaking.

Was he... crying?

"Bro…" Yami started, but Iida let out a soft, strangled sob before finishing, his hands trembling as he tried to adjust his glasses.

Ojiro sighed heavily and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "It's not the match," he said, his voice low. "It's his brother. Tensei Iida. He… he was attacked."

Yami blinked. "Attacked? By who?"

"By the Hero Hunter," Ojiro explained, his tail swaying slightly with tension. "Stain"

[Oi, Baka.]

The system appeared before his eyes.

[Remember how my creator said some characters would get power-ups, some would be remixed, and others just thrown in? Well, here's your first big change.]

[Hero Hunter, Human Monster, Garou, is now mixed with Stain.]

Yami's eyes widened. 'You're shitting me,' he thought.

[Nope. This isn't just the regular Stain. This version? He's stronger. Smarter. Deadlier, and even connected to one of your peers.]

Yami sat back, the weight of the situation sinking in. Stain was already a monster in the original timeline, but now mixed with Garou?

Ojiro kept talking, not noticing Yami's silent exchange with the system.

"They're calling him the Human Monster. Some say he's not even human anymore—just this... force of nature. Iida's brother got attacked. He's in critical condition."

Yami glanced over at Iida, who was still shaking, tears slipping down his face.

For a moment, Yami didn't know what to say. He wasn't exactly the comforting type. But even he could feel the weight of this.

"I'm gonna kill that bastard," Iida choked out, his voice raw.

Yami didn't flinch. "You're not ready," he said bluntly.

Iida whipped his head up, glaring through his tears.

"I'm serious," Yami continued. "You go after him now; he'll tear you apart. You saw what he did to Ingenium, and that wasn't even him going all out."

Iida's fists tightened again, but he didn't argue.

"But," Yami added, his tone softening slightly, "when the time comes? I'll be there."

Iida blinked at him, surprised.

"Someone's gotta keep your dumb ass alive," Yami finished, this time serious, before standing up and leaving.

Ojiro chuckled under his breath, though it was hollow. The tension in the room eased if only a little.

Iida wiped his face with the back of his sleeve, trying to pull himself together. "I… I'll train harder."

But Yami had already left.

Ojiro let out a deep sigh, his tail flicking with unease. 'Garou...' he thought, the name weighing heavy on his mind. Just as the thought settled, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

He pulled it out, recognizing the caller instantly.

With a swipe, he answered, "Moshi moshi?"

A familiar, weathered voice came through the speaker, rough but calm. "Mashirao, Garou is at it again, isn't he?"

Ojiro's grip tightened around the phone. "Yeah… he's already injured Ingenium. And he's not like the stories anymore—he's worse."

There was a short pause on the other end, followed by a tired sigh. "I figured as much," the old man muttered. "I warned the Heroes this might happen, but no one listens to old bones like me."

It was Bang—his grandfather—the legendary martial artist and creator of the Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist. Ojiro had grown up training under him, learning every strike, every block, every movement—but hearing Bang's voice now felt heavier than usual.

"Grandpa, you knew this was coming, didn't you?" Ojiro asked quietly.

Bang let out a low hum. "Garou's not just some punk with a vendetta. He's got a philosophy—twisted but sharp, just like himself. He sees the cracks in this hero society and aims to shatter them. That's what makes him dangerous."

Ojiro swallowed hard. "So what do I do?"

"You train harder. And if you ever cross paths with him, you don't hold back. Garou isn't the type to spare you because you're young; even worse, he probably wants you and myself dead."

Another beat of silence.

"But, Mashirao," Bang added, his voice softer now, "don't fight him alone."

Ojiro clenched his fist. "I won't."

Bang's sigh echoed through the phone. "Good. Stay sharp, kid."

The call ended, leaving Ojiro staring at his phone, his grandfather's words heavy on his chest.

Yami left the tunnel and immediately noticed that Momo's match had already ended. 

The big screen showed Kendo standing tall, waving to the crowd, while Momo sat off to the side, clearly exhausted. Yami frowned, surprised.

'Wait… Momo lost?' he thought, his golden eyes narrowing. 'Damn. Would've been nice to see them go at it.'

He strolled over to watch Cementos' giant concrete hands that lined the arena and leaned against it, casually watching as Cementos cleared the battlefield. 

The whole place was littered with broken gadgets, smoke bombs, wires, and the remains of all the stuff Momo had made during the fight. Cementos swept them away like trash, the arena slowly returning to its clean state.

'She must've thrown a mountain of crap at Kendo,' Yami mused, imagining Momo desperately creating every weapon she could think of to keep Kendo at bay. He smirked. 'Too bad I missed it.'

The booming voice of Present Mic echoed through the stadium speakers, snapping Yami out of his thoughts.

"ALRIGHT, FOLKS! THE FINAL MATCH IS UP NEXT—YAMI IWATANI VS. ITSUKA KENDO!"

The crowd roared, the excitement so loud that it rattled the concrete beneath Yami's feet.

Yami sighed, rolling his shoulders lazily. "Guess it's time."

He started heading back into the tunnels, but he spotted Momo lying face down near one of the side walls on his way. 

Her thick black hair was messy, and she hadn't even bothered to sit up. Her long legs sprawled out behind her, and her arms were stretched to the sides as if she'd just given up on life.

Yami approached. "Oi, Cow, you good?" he called, but Momo didn't move.

He walked over and crouched beside her, poking her back with his finger. Her body twitched slightly, but she stayed face down.

"Doesn't that hurt your tits, Cow?" Yami asked, raising an eyebrow. He poked her side again for good measure. "Angela told me it hurts like hell to lay down like that when you're lactating."

Momo groaned into the floor. "I hate you."

Yami chuckled. "That's not an answer."

Momo finally lifted her head slightly, her flushed face barely visible as her cheek was still pressed against the cold concrete. "Yes, it hurts. But I don't care right now."

Yami tilted his head. "You're seriously that bummed about losing?"

She huffed. "I should've won. I had a solid plan, but I underestimated Kendo's strength. She broke through my defence like it was nothing. I had the upper hand one second, and the next, she sent me flying."

Yami laughed, patting her on the back. "Should've made an air bubble or something."

"I DID!" Momo snapped, rolling over onto her back with a dramatic groan. Her massive tits jiggled with the movement, her sports bra barely holding them in. "She just punched through it like paper."

Yami couldn't help but smirk. "Damn. Kendo's got those gorilla arms."

Momo glared at him, but it was more playful than angry this time. "Shut up."

Yami stood up, stretching again. "Well, don't beat yourself up over it. You're still my number one Cow."

Momo rolled her eyes but smiled slightly.

Yami shot her a wink before heading off toward the tunnel entrance. "Now watch me break that gorilla's arms in the final."

Momo chuckled softly as he disappeared around the corner. With that, Yami headed to the battlefield, already hyped for the final round.

Just like before, Yami casually walked over to the arena, where Kendo was already waiting for him. She stood tall, her stance confident, radiating energy like she was ready to throw hands without hesitation.

She wasn't overly tall—more on the medium side—but her figure was athletic, slim yet packed with muscle where it counted. 

Her sharp teal eyes gleamed under the sunlight, rounded just enough to give her a friendly, approachable look, but there was still fire in them. 

Her long orange hair was tied into a high ponytail on the left side of her head, bouncing with every weight shift. 

Her bangs split into three clumps that framed her face perfectly, and a few tufts stuck up at the top of her head, giving her a wild look.

And yeah—she was cute. Her face had that kind of soft charm that could light up a room. But it wasn't just her face that drew attention. 

Her body was something else. She had a massive pair of tits—definitely rivalling Momo's, at least before Momo started lactating and got even bigger. The tight fit of her U.A. uniform didn't help either, practically painting over her curves.

Yami smirked as he stepped into the arena. "Yo, Gorilla Girl."

Kendo chuckled, rolling her shoulders. "Hope you're ready. I'm not holding back."

"Wouldn't want you to," Yami replied, cracking his knuckles.

Midnight raised her whip in the air, signalling the start. "FIGHT!"

Yami didn't hesitate.

He didn't want this dragging out any longer than necessary. He watched Kendo immediately take the offensive, sprinting straight toward him. 

Her fists clenched, and he could already tell she was about to activate her quirk—Big Fist. The name wasn't exactly creative.

Her right hand expanded mid-run, tripling in size, the massive fist swinging forward with crushing force. If that hit, it'd probably crater the ground—and maybe Yami, too, if he was dumb enough to let it.

But he wasn't.

"Vaporizing Freezing."

A burst of frost shot from Yami's legs, coating the arena floor in a split second. Before Kendo could adjust, the ice shot up around her boots, climbing up her calves and locking her feet in place.

Her eyes widened. "Do you think this is...EHH—?!"

She tried to pull her feet free, but before she could act, Yami blurred forward, taking advantage of her moment of hesitation. 

He slipped behind her, ducking under her still-massive fist, and before she could react, he locked her arms behind her head in a tight, full nelson.

Kendo struggled immediately, her muscles flexing as she tried to break free, but Yami didn't give her the chance.

"I know what you're thinking," he whispered into her ear. "You're about to expand your fists to break the ice, right?"

Kendo growled but didn't answer.

Yami tightened the hold. "Not gonna happen."

Her massive fists, still locked behind her head thanks to the full nelson, couldn't reach the ice encasing her legs. She gritted her teeth, trying to force her way out, but Yami's strength was overwhelming.

And just like that—the match was over.

Midnight raised her whip again, her voice booming through the speakers. "ITSUKA KENDO IS IMMOBILIZED! THE WINNER—YAMI IWATANI!"

The crowd cheered, though some were disappointed that the match had ended so fast. People had been expecting a back-and-forth brawl, not a tactical takedown.

Yami chuckled, releasing Kendo, who immediately shrunk her fists back to normal and kicked at the ice, finally breaking free. She turned to him, her teal eyes narrowed but with a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"You really didn't wanna mess around, huh?" she asked, brushing ice shards off her legs.

"Nah," Yami replied. "I figured you'd either punch me through a wall or I'd end this quick. I went with the smarter choice."

Kendo laughed, slapping him hard on the back. "You're a cocky bastard, but I can't even be mad. That was clean."

The crowd was still cheering around them as Yami raised a fist in victory.

Up in the stands, Momo clapped politely. However, her flushed face and wobbly thighs suggested she was feeling something else entirely. "He really does know how to take control," she mumbled under her breath, fanning her face with her hand.

Ochaco, sitting next to her, blinked in confusion. "Uh… are you okay?"

Momo shot her a strained smile. "Peachy."

Meanwhile, Yami and Kendo walked off the arena side by side, the tension from the match already gone.

"Seriously, though," Kendo added as they exited, "next time, let me get one hit in."

Yami smirked. "No promises."

As they parted ways, Yami felt the weight of the victory settle in. He'd officially taken first place in the U.A. Sports Festival.

The crowd's cheers echoed behind him, but his mind was already moving forward—to Garou, the Hero Hunter, and everything coming next.

But for now? He was getting some damn food and maybe a blowjob before the premiation.