Three days of unexpected respite passed quickly for the students of U.A. High, a much-needed break after the harrowing experience at the USJ. Despite the short duration, it offered a chance to decompress, process the attack, and for some, nurse lingering anxieties. But as the sun rose on the fourth day, everyone was back, gathered in Classroom 1-A, the air thick with anticipation.
As the bell rang, signaling the start of classes, the door slid open. Shota Aizawa, their homeroom teacher, shuffled in, his familiar weary expression somewhat alleviated, though still present. His bandages, however, were conspicuously absent, a testament to his quick recovery, likely aided by Recovery Girl.
A collective sigh of relief, followed by a chorus of concerned voices, filled the room. "Aizawa-sensei, are you okay?" "Are your injuries healed?" "We were worried about you!"
Aizawa paused, his dark eyes sweeping over his class. "I'm fine," he responded, his voice as flat and unbothered as ever. "Recovery Girl worked her magic. Nothing to worry about."
He then narrowed his eyes, a glint of something akin to grim determination in their depths. "Alright, listen up. Be ready for your next big test."
A hush fell over the class. Students braced themselves, wondering what new, demanding challenge awaited them. Aizawa took a long, dramatic pause, his gaze lingering on each student.
Then, he finally delivered the news. "The U.A. Sports Festival will be held in two weeks."
A wave of bewildered exclamations swept through the classroom. "The Sports Festival?!" Kaminari blurted out. "Already?"
"But... after the villain attack?" Uraraka asked, her brow furrowed. "Is it really okay to have it now?"
Aizawa's expression hardened slightly. "Precisely because of the attack," he stated, his voice carrying a newfound gravity. "The Sports Festival is U.A.'s chance to show the world that we are undeterred, that we are not afraid of them. It's a statement that U.A. is stronger than ever, and our students are ready to face any challenge. It's a prime opportunity for you all to showcase your abilities to the Pro Heroes scouting for interns."
The students, understanding the larger implications, felt a surge of renewed excitement. The fear of the USJ receded, replaced by the thrilling prospect of competition and recognition. "Alright!" Kirishima pumped his fist. "This is going to be awesome!"
"Yeah! My time to shine!" Bakugo roared, sparks already crackling from his hands.
Minato, a small smile gracing his lips, listened to the excitement. He knew the Sports Festival was a crucial event for their development and for the public image of U.A.
As the classes for the day concluded, the students of Class 1-A began to pack their bags, their minds already buzzing with strategies for the upcoming festival. They moved towards the door, ready to leave, but stopped short.
Outside their classroom, the hallway was unusually crowded. Students from various other classes, their faces a mixture of curiosity, judgment, and determination, stood gathered, blocking their path.
"Huh? What's going on?" Mina asked, peering out with confusion.
"Why are there so many people outside our class?" Kirishima added.
Minato merely nodded, a knowing look in his eyes. "They're scouting," he explained, his voice low. "Class 1-A got direct combat experience with villains, while other classes are focused on general studies or different heroics. They want to see what kind of students we are, especially after the USJ attack."
Bakugo, however, had a less diplomatic interpretation. "Tch! Get out of my way, you damn extras! What are you looking at?!" he snarled, glaring at the crowd.
Minato sighed softly. "Bakugo, you really need to adjust your attitude," he murmured, loud enough for his classmate to hear. "You're drawing unnecessary attention."
Bakugo's head snapped towards Minato, his eyes blazing. "WHAT DID YOU SAY, BLONDIE?! YOU THINK YOU'RE SO GREAT JUST 'CAUSE YOU BLEW UP THAT NOMU?! I'LL SHOW YOU WHO'S GOT THE ATTITUDE AT THE SPORTS FESTIVAL!"
Before their verbal sparring could escalate, a new voice cut through the tension. From the crowd, a kid with wild, purple hair stepped forward, his eyes half-lidded and weary. "So, you guys are Class 1-A, huh?" he drawled, a hint of disdain in his tone. "Acting all cocky after fighting a few villains. Must be nice to be the center of attention." He smirked. "But don't get too comfortable. If we perform well enough in the Sports Festival, we can be transferred into the Hero Course. And when that happens, one of you will be pushed out."
A ripple of agreement and ambitious murmurs spread through the non-1A students. "Yeah!" "We're coming for your spots!" "Heroics isn't just about flashy Quirks!"
The members of Class 1-A bristled, some taking a defensive stance. Kaminari looked intimidated, while Iida chopped his hands in frustration.
Minato, who had been observing the exchange with a calm expression, took a deliberate step forward, placing himself squarely in front of his classmates. He faced the throng of students from other departments, his aura composed, yet undeniably commanding.
"Whatever I say now," Minato stated, his voice carrying clearly without being loud, "will undoubtedly sound arrogant." He paused, his gaze sweeping over the faces before him, meeting their challenging stares with an unwavering calm. "So, let's just save our words for the arena. We will meet in the Sports Festival."
A tense silence followed his declaration, his quiet confidence more impactful than any boast. The challenge had been accepted. The stage was set.
The announcement of the U.A. Sports Festival ignited a fire within Class 1-A. For the next two weeks, the usual hum of the school was replaced by the clang of weights, the crackle of Quirks, and the determined shouts of aspiring heroes pushing their limits. Sleep became a luxury, and every spare moment was dedicated to honing their abilities.
Minato, ever the strategist, organized intensive training sessions for his friends Mina, Kirishima, Toga, Kaminari, and Toru. He'd promised to help them, and he delivered, crafting personalized regimens that pushed each of them beyond their perceived boundaries.
For Mina, Minato focused on Quirk precision and control. He set up obstacle courses where she had to melt specific targets without damaging the surroundings, and taught her to vary the acidity and viscosity of her Acid. She practiced creating acid trails for rapid movement, pushing her endurance until her skin was tingling from prolonged Quirk use.
Kirishima underwent brutal physical conditioning to enhance his Hardening. Minato put him through exercises designed to test his durability against various impacts, including blunt force and sharp objects, and to maintain his hardened state for longer periods. He sparred with Minato, who, even while holding back significantly, forced Kirishima to react faster and develop more strategic hardening patterns.
Toga's training was unorthodox. Minato, after some thought, focused on enhancing her physical agility and weapon proficiency. Knowing her fascination with blood and her transformation Quirk, he put her through rigorous knife-throwing drills and close-quarters combat scenarios. He also challenged her to collect "samples" (juice packets) from moving targets while remaining undetected, honing her stealth and swift movements. Her feral grin only grew wider with each successful attempt.
Kaminari worked tirelessly on Quirk control and targeting. Minato helped him practice directing his electricity to transfer to his body for physical enhancement, and also made him practice with electricity to make precise bursts, aiming at specific points rather than just unleashing wide, indiscriminate discharges. He also introduced him to exercises designed to improve his mental clarity post-Quirk use, slowly increasing the threshold before Kaminari's "Whey!" state kicked in. It was frustrating, but Kaminari's determination to avoid short-circuiting spurred him on.
Among the rigorous training regimens Minato devised for his classmates, Toru Hagakure's was perhaps the most unique, focusing on a fundamental aspect of her Quirk that had always been a mystery to her. Minato, after observing her Invisibility Quirk, theorized that it wasn't just about bending light around her, but a continuous, passive manipulation of it.
"Toru," Minato explained during one of their specialized sessions in a dimly lit training room. "Your Quirk allows you to be invisible by manipulating light. Instead of just letting it pass by you, try to actively concentrate that light into your palm. Think of it as gathering all the scattered light around you and bringing it to a single point."
Toru furrowed her invisible brow, focusing intently. She held out her hand, trying to grasp the concept Minato presented. It was difficult; she'd never felt her Quirk working, it was just... always on. But Minato's calm, precise instructions, coupled with his deep understanding of energy manipulation, offered a new perspective.
She tried. She concentrated, imagining herself as a living lens, drawing in all the light that made her invisible. Sweat beaded on her forehead, though it was impossible to see. A faint, almost imperceptible shimmering began around her outstretched hand.
Then, a tiny, flickering glow emerged from her palm. It wasn't bright, just a weak, ethereal light, barely visible in the dim room, but it was there.
"I... I'm doing it!" Toru exclaimed, her voice filled with a mixture of disbelief and triumph. The light pulsed weakly, a tiny, tangible manifestation of her previously unseen power. She was halfway there, able to emit light from her hands, a feat she'd never imagined possible.
"Excellent, Toru!" Minato praised, a genuine smile on his face. "You've got the emission down. Now, if you can control it perfectly, if you can learn to pull that light back, to stop the manipulation at will... then you can be visible again."
The words hung in the air, transforming the small, flickering light in Toru's hand into a beacon of hope. For years, she had been defined by her invisibility, unable to turn it off, unable to truly connect visually with others, unable to even see her own face. The thought of being able to choose to be seen, to reveal herself fully, was overwhelming.
A soft sniffle broke the silence. Then another. The faint light in Toru's hand wavered as her shoulders began to shake. Unable to contain the raw emotion, Toru burst into tears, silent sobs wracking her invisible form. They were not tears of sadness, but of overwhelming joy and gratitude. The possibility of truly seeing herself, of being seen, was a dream she'd never dared to fully entertain, and now, Minato had shown her the path.
Minato himself trained relentlessly, though often unseen. The two weeks were a blur of sweat, effort, and occasional frustration, punctuated by the growing camaraderie within the group. They pushed each other, celebrated small victories, and nursed aching muscles, all with their eyes firmly set on the grand stage of the U.A. Sports Festival.