The stadium buzzed with anticipation as the match between Bakugo and Uraraka began. The crowd, initially underestimating her, quickly realized she wasn’t going down without a fight. Uraraka darted around the arena, using her agility to avoid Bakugo’s relentless explosions, searching for an opening.

Bakugo, however, remained composed. His eyes tracked her every movement, explosions at the ready. When she rushed him head-on, he didn’t hesitate—his palm sparked, and with a controlled blast, he sent her flying back.

Gasps rippled through the audience. Some were impressed. Others… less so.

“This isn’t a fight—it’s just bullying!” someone from the stands yelled.

Murmurs spread through the crowd. A few nodded in agreement. Uraraka was strong, but against Bakugo’s raw power, wasn’t this excessive?

Midoriya’s fists clenched. He knew Bakugo. This wasn’t bullying—this was respect. If Bakugo didn’t take Uraraka seriously, that would have been the real insult.

Bakugo barely reacted to the accusation. He stood in the center of the battlefield, unmoved, his expression unreadable beneath the bright arena lights. But then, slowly, his gaze lifted, locking onto the source of the outburst.

“The hell did you just say?”

His voice was low, dangerous. Sparks crackled at his fingertips, heat rising from his palms. He wasn’t holding back, not for Uraraka, and sure as hell not for some self-righteous spectator who didn’t get it.

Uraraka wiped blood from her lip, breathing heavily. “Don’t… count me out yet.”

Then, with a determined grin, she activated her trump card.

As Bakugo turned his focus back to her, the debris she had secretly been lifting into the sky came crashing down. The arena erupted in shock—she hadn’t just been dodging; she had been planning.

Bakugo’s eyes widened for the briefest moment before his instincts kicked in. With a deafening BOOM, he blasted upward, scattering the debris with raw force.