The crowd's roar was deafening.
Itami stepped into the stands, walking toward Class 1-A's section without saying a word. His classmates were already gathered—some leaning over the railing, others laughing, cheering, talking over each other.
He didn't join them.
Instead, he took a seat a few rows up. Off to the side. Just far enough to be present, but separate.
He sat with his arms folded, leaning into the seat, watching the stadium floor as the giant screens flickered with the match countdown.
Midoriya vs Shinso.
His eyes locked on the field, unmoving.
From where he sat, he could just make out Shinso's posture. Relaxed, almost bored. Midoriya, by contrast, looked like he was trying to solve a puzzle with his face.
The match began.
Itami didn't flinch when Shinso's voice rang out. Didn't blink when Midoriya replied—triggering the brainwashing.
He just watched.
Still.
Expression unreadable.
Shinso moved in. Calm. Methodical. Arrogant.
And Itami's jaw clenched.
He remembered being trapped in his own mind, dragging him under. Until the moment Midoriya stopped moving, only a couple steps from out of bounds.
Paused. A huge burst of pressure and wind came, Midorya was back in control. He then fought back.
The arena lit up in cheers as Midoriya surged forward and flipped Shinso over the edge.
Present Mics voice boomed over the stadium declaring Midorya the winner.
The crowd was still roaring after Midoriya's win. Shinso walked off the field slowly, stiff, silent. Midoriya followed, clutching his arm, head high but eyes burning.
Itami didn't react.
He just kept watching the field.
Footsteps approached behind him—slow, solid.
Shoji stopped near the row where Itami sat.
"You don't have to be alone," he said quietly. Not accusing. Just stating a fact.
Itami didn't respond.
Shoji nodded once, respectful. "But if you need to be, that's fine too."
He turned and left.
No drama. No pressure. Just enough presence to remind Itami of what Momo said. Itami just kept his eyes on the stadium.
Match Two – Todoroki vs Sero
The announcers kicked in again. On the screen, both names flashed—Shoto Todoroki vs Hanta Sero.
It was over in seconds.
Sero launched in fast, wrapping his tape to pull ahead early.
Todoroki didn't move. Not even a twitch. As he attacked.
A wall of ice exploded from his side of the arena, engulfing half the stadium in sheer, glacial force. It swallowed the ground. The walls. The air. Sero vanished beneath it.
Silence.
Then a wave of gasps. Applause. Shock.
Itami sat up slightly. Observing the huge glacier as bits of ice trickled on to his hair.
He shook his head as he thought to himself.
Man, I hate the cold.
Todoroki stood still, hand at his side, steam rising off the ice as the arena reset around him.
"ROUND THREE—ITAMI vs TETSUTETSU!"
The screen lit up in bold white letters. The crowd buzzed in anticipation. Other Students leaned over the railing, whispering.
Itami stood from his seat in the back row of Class 1-A's section, his expression unreadable. He walked out of the stands without looking at anyone.
Down the corridor. Into the tunnel.
The concrete swallowed the noise behind him. Cool, quiet, steady.
As he turned the final corner, another figure emerged from the opposite end—walking the same narrow hall, from the arena side.
Todoroki.
Fresh from his match, frost still lingering on the sleeves of his uniform. His pace, calm but tensed. His posture, controlled.
They passed each other without slowing.
Their shoulders brushed—just slightly.
Neither looked back.
As Itami stepped into the sunlight, the air inside the stadium felt heavier. Thicker. Charged. The roar of the crowd became a wall of noise behind the announcer's voice.
"AND NOW—ROUND THREE OF OUR TOURNAMENT IS ABOUT TO START!!"
He walked out into the arena like it didn't matter.
Across from him, Tetsutetsu stood tall, pounding his fists together like he was warming up to punch a hole through a building.
"Let's go!" he shouted, voice echoing through the field. "Time to show everyone what Class 1-B's really made of!"
Itami kept his eyes low. Hands relaxed at his sides.
Midnight raised her hand, whip already poised.
"READY..."
Tetsutetsu crouched, ready to charge.
"SET..."
Itami inhaled, slow. Calm.
"BEGIN!!"
Tetsutetsu launched forward like a cannonball—straight at him.
Itami didn't move. Not right away.
Then, with a small motion of his palm, he unleashed a tight burst of flame—short-range, center mass.
It hit dead-on.
The flame licked across Tetsutetsu's chest— it did nothing.
The metal-skinned teen powered through it with a grin as the flames made excellent cover for him. He emerged from the flames slamming a shoulder into Itami's ribs, catching him off guard. The attack sent him skidding back across the arena floor.
The crowd lit up.
"NOT BAD!" Tetsutetsu shouted. "BUT YOU'RE GONNA NEED MORE THAN THAT!"
Itami rolled to his feet, expression still neutral—but there was a sharpness in his eyes now.
Another charge. Tetsutetsu came in swinging. A heavy hook aimed at Itami's jaw.
Itami ducked low, countered with a blast of fire to the gut —but again, it did little more than scorch the surface.
A punch caught his side. Another grazed his cheek.
He staggered.
He's tanking everything. Just walking through it.
Tetsutetsu laughed as he backed up, arms wide.
"What's wrong, hotshot? All that fire and no burn? You're weak against me!"
The words hung in the air.
"You're weak."
Itami stopped, absorbing a barrage of punches from Tetsutetsu. His eyes narrowed.
Behind Tetsutetsu—just for a second—he saw it.
His doppelgänger. Grinning madly—unnaturally.
Looks like I was right after all.
The words echoed in his skull.
His posture shifted.
Fire sparked in his hand—but this time, it wasn't the smooth, controlled burn he usually used. It crackled. Sharper. Wild.
He caught one of Tetsutetsu's punches mid-swing. The next came, but Itami slipped inside the strike and drove a clean gut punch into his opponent. His fist exploded with flame on contact, launching Tetsutetsu back several feet.
Before he could recover, Itami dashed forward—low and fast—and spun behind him. A burst of fire shot from his foot mid-motion, swinging his heel into Tetsutetsu's ribs. Itami felt the metal skin dent and crack under the blow.
Using the momentum, he stepped in again—his fist slamming into the same spot. Then, as he shifted into an uppercut—
Electricity surged.
Wild.
Untamed.
A crack of lightning snapped through the air.
Sparks exploded on impact as his fist collided with Tetsutetsu's chin.
Tetsutetsu's gritted his teeth. "What the hell—?"
Itami moved like a storm—fire driving him forward, electricity flickering across the arena, muscles tight with precision and rage.
He struck a hook to the jaw, elbow to the chest, flame-burst to the face. Sparks danced across his fists, surging brighter with each impact.
The crowd roared—bewildered, electric—as lightning and fire tore through the arena.
Tetsutetsu swung wide—desperate—but Itami caught his arm, twisted it, and slammed him into the ground with a lightning-charged blow that cracked the stone beneath them.
Smoke curled from the crater.
Tetsutetsu groaned, barely conscious.
Before Itami could move forward, a wall of concrete slammed up between them. Midnight stood at the edge of the ring, her whip raised, one hand gripping her sleeve as if holding herself back from tearing it.
"That's Enough! The match is over!"
Itami froze, chest rising and falling, breath ragged. Fists still clenched.
Midnight raised her hand.
"THE WINNER IS ITAMI!!"
The crowd erupted in a storm of mixed emotion. Some cheered. Others murmured with uncertainty. A few stared down with wide eyes—less impressed, more unsettled.
Itami didn't look at any of them.
He walked off the field, sparks still fading from his fingertips.
Damn it all.
The stadium buzzed with chaos. Cheers. Confusion. Whispers.
Tetsutetsu was still being lifted out of the crater by med-bots when Akuma stepped away from the railing. Around him, people were talking about Itamis fight—shouting even.
His eyes followed Itami as he walked off the field, sparks still trailing faintly from his fingertips.
Something in his gut turned cold.It wasn't the lightning. It was his eye.
For just a moment—right after the final blow—he'd seen it. The right one. It changed color, purple. Etched with something that didn't belong. Like marks burned under the skin.
No one else had seen it. But he had.
And for a second—it felt like something looked back at him.
He found Itami in one of the outer corridors behind the arena, walking fast, shoulders high and tense. Alone, as usual.
"Yo!" Akuma called out, jogging to catch up. "Hey—wait up!"
Itami didn't stop.
Akuma gave a half-smile as he came up beside him.
"Damn, man. Were you trying to kill the guy out there?" No response
"What, you mad at me or something?"
He tried to laugh—but the sound barely made it out. His tone cracked halfway through.
Itami didn't answer. Just kept walking.
Akuma's grin faded. He sighed, then reached out—hand closing gently on Itami's shoulder.
Itami froze.
Didn't turn. But he stopped.
Akuma stood there a second, eyes on the back of his head.
Then, quieter—
"Look, I know I Should have told you but how could I bring it up?"
The silence in the air was heavy as Akuma added.
"All the interviews. The cheers. Acting like the perfect hero. That wasn't my idea. I mean believe me you think I like wearing this?"
Itami added, deadpan " I know. You're not wearing a ridiculous outfit, the costume actually suits you."
Akuma smirked at his response " can't talk to me but you're willing to judge my outfit?" He let out a light laugh. But—
His voice dropped lower. More grounded. Real.
"Look, I didn't ask for this. You know me, the Elders force me to do this. Elder Geto mainly gave me the order."
He then changed the tone of his voice to a rasping old man " you'll be the first. The face. The pride of the Wyrm-Crest Brotherhood!"
Akuma laughed and Itami just smiled a bit, looking down.
"That bald dwarf can be so annoying."
"Right?" Akuma said, exhaling. "He says jump and suddenly I'm doing interviews, posing for PR shots, shaking hands with people I don't even like."
He leaned against the wall beside Itami, Itamis voice lowering just a touch.
"You remember that night under the tree?"
Akuma paused.
Itami didn't look back, didn't raise his voice.
"The cooler. The stars. You threw me a beer like it meant something."
Akuma gave a weak smile. "You mean the night you came to us like a confused baby bird asking about feelings?"
Itami didn't smile but continued on. "It was the first time in a long time, I felt normal. I was almost at peace, reminded me of how it was before."
Akuma leaned back against the wall, eyes drifting to the ceiling like he could see what he's remembering.
"Man... remeber when Kaze first unlocked his affinity?."
His voice was softer now.
"and you still not even creating a spark. Man he just kept spraying water everywhere and didn't know how to turn it off. He used to be such a crybaby."
He laughed a little to himself as he looked over to Itami. Itami didn't respond right away. His hands were in his pockets. Shoulders tight.
"Heh yeah," he said. "It's just so disappointing.
Frustrating. I want to lead the clan in my own way, do it right... but they keep twisting it into theirs."
He swallowed.
"All this stuff I'm feeling. The thoughts going through my head lately..."
His voice trailed off.
Akuma gave him a sideways glance. A small smirk tugged at the edge of his mouth—not mocking, but familiar. Like an older brother who thought he knew the game.
"Man... that's just life. Trust me."
He pushed off the wall, stretching his arms behind his head.
"You're at that age where everything feels heavier. Bigger. And yeah, it sucks sometimes. But that's part of growing into who you're supposed to be."
He gave a short laugh. "Half the time I think I've got it figured out, and then the elders throw a wrench at me, new title or expectation on me. You just gotta play the game, Itami. Smile, nod, and push through."
Itami stared at the floor.
Akuma didn't see the look in his eyes—the way they tightened, how the light dimmed just a little more.
"Eventually," Akuma added, "you'll stop thinking about all the noise. It just fades."
He meant it to be comforting. But to Itami, it sounded like surrender.
He said nothing.
Akuma clapped him lightly on the back. "We'll figure it out. Just don't let it get in your head too much."
Itami stayed still as he walked away.