Era

36

After a mercifully brief twenty minutes, Hatsume finally wiped her brow and stepped from the ring. There was a confused moment of silence from the audience, as if they were unsure whether the match was truly over, or perhaps they half-feared that this was yet another of the support student's tricks.

Era stood from her seat and cupped her hands to her mouth, whooping from the General Studies section.

"Fuck yeah Hatsume!" Honestly, what a show. That was the hardest that Era had laughed in a long while, and her cheeks ached with the unfamiliar stretch of such a wide smile. Fuck, she felt like she had a runner's stitch in her side as well. She never got those.

At last the crowd seemed to understand that the match had, indeed, ended, and the stadium burst into scattered cheers and applause. It was nowhere near as overwhelming as it had been in the aftermath of the fight previous, but Era figured that quite a few audience members had read the writing on the wall and taken the opportunity to get concessions or head to the bathroom. That pesky grin wormed its way onto her face once more. Absolutely fantastic.

She didn't wish Iida any ill, of course; she'd have cheered on Hatsume toying anyone around the ring like that, in a masterful display of technological prowess and shrewd business sense. The net gun, Era thought, had been particularly amusing. Although perhaps she was just predictable in that regard.

It seemed like Present Mic was announcing the next match the moment the two contestants cleared the field; maybe they were eager to get things moving again after it had grinded to such a standstill

"OOOOOKAY! AFTER THAT... EXCITING DISPLAY, IT'S TIME FOR THE NEXT ROUND! FIRST UP WE HAVE OUR EXPLOSIVE POWERHOUSE FROM 1-A, OUR FIRST YEAR REP WITH A BOLD CLAIM TO THE GOLD, OUR AMAZING, OUR IRRISISTABLE, BAKUGOU KATSUKI FROM THE HERO COURSE!"

Era felt her hands tighten against the metal railing as Bakugou entered the arena, and she forced them to relax with a long exhale. This match would be very simple. Either Bakugou would know Shinsou's quirk, or he wouldn't. And then it would be over.

"VERSUS! YOU KNOW HIM AS THE PURPLE HAIRED MYSTERY WHO PLACED SECOND IN THE CAVALRY BATTLE, FROM GENERAL EDUCATION IT'S SHINSOU HITOSHI!"

As much as she respected Shinsou as a friend, and as much as he had improved over the last few weeks under Aizawa's tutelage, the fact remained that he was no match against—well, Present Mic's descriptor had been accurate enough—a powerhouse like Bakugou. Not one-on-one like this, not on a flat, concrete arena where there was no terrain to take advantage of.

Era felt her nose wrinkle. Ridiculous, expecting them to fight like this. Expecting it to be an adequate display of talent. Daylight heroes might have thrived on that sort of thing, the pageantry of a drawn out slog, but the impracticality of it burned in her veins and set her fingers twitching against the railing. A real fight was more than just this glorified slugfest. Sure, Era could appreciate the spectacle of the thing, had participated in enough cage matches to know when that was what an audience wanted to see; but that was blood and bruises, broken bones and crooked teeth. That was a brawl.

This was supposed to be their chance to show their skills as heroes. Era was the first to admit that she didn't have the best grasp on the subject, but wasn't a hero's goal to end fights as quickly and bloodlessly as possible? To do that required all the steps she had been trained in: scouting, stalking, striking only when the odds were most in her favor.

Or perhaps she was viewing it all wrong. Perhaps heroes needed to be able to trust that they could fight no matter the odds. After all, lives wouldn't wait for the perfect conditions in which to save them.