Heroes Gamble: A BNHA Story

Chapter Six: The Practical's Finale!

The rumbling grew louder, each tremor reverberating through Hayato's bones. A few blocks away, the Zero-Pointer emerged from its hidden hatch, towering high above the buildings in Battle Center G, its colossal, metallic form casting long shadows across the panicked students below. Hayato's eyes narrowed, instinctively assessing the threat before him.

The Zero-Pointer was designed to be an insurmountable obstacle, a test of resolve rather than brute strength. He could see that this machine wasn't just a tool; it was a moving fortress, an embodiment of chaos meant to scatter those who stood against it. He knew the smart move here was to avoid it altogether, but the way it was designed—barreling forward with no regard for obstacles or the students—it was clear that escape wouldn't be easy.

Tapping into the instincts honed through years as a mercenary, Hayato shifted his stance and made a swift decision: to retreat and focus on evacuating those who were panicking. With a quick breath, he pushed off, using a controlled gust of wind to propel himself toward the nearest group of students.

"Get out of here!" he shouted, corralling a few students who had frozen in terror.

Without waiting for a response, Hayato extended his hand and used a strong, controlled wind blast to send two of them in the direction of the entrance, making sure they landed on their feet a safe distance away. They stumbled slightly before looking back at him in a mixture of fear and awe, but he had already turned his attention to the next group.

Ahead, another student was struggling to dodge the robots still crowding the arena, each one programmed to swarm and create chaos amidst the carnage. Hayato sprinted toward them, sending another wind blast to clear the smaller droids blocking their escape path. He picked them up without a word, flinging them toward the safe zone entrance like a human catapult, making sure his winds caught them at the last second to ensure a controlled landing.

One after another, he cleared a path through the battlegrounds, saving students as he went. He kept his mind sharp, calculating each movement and precisely directing his power to avoid unnecessary strain.

A group of students running toward him drew his attention, but something was off. Their expressions were blank, their eyes dull, and they moved almost mechanically, all led by a lone figure at the front—a boy with dark purple hair and a determined gaze. Shinso.

It only took a second for Hayato to realize what was going on. Shinso was using his quirk to lead a line of hypnotized students out of the danger zone, their minds compelled to follow his instructions to the letter. Hayato couldn't help but smirk as he saw the boy moving forward, a look of intense focus in his eyes, using his power to help rather than manipulate.

"Smart move, Shinso," Hayato muttered to himself.

As they crossed paths, Shinso gave him a brief nod, his usually guarded expression softened. Despite his calm exterior, there was an edge of exhaustion in Shinso's eyes, and Hayato could tell that maintaining control over so many people was costing him. He ran beside Shinso, slowing just enough to match his pace.

"Handy quirk," Hayato said, giving him a sideways glance. "Useful in a pinch like this."

Shinso shot him a glance, somewhere between wary and amused. "Better than letting them get squashed by that giant hunk of metal back there." He nodded in the direction of the Zero-Pointer, still wreaking havoc behind them. "But controlling this many at once isn't easy."

Hayato glanced back over his shoulder, noting the metallic giant tearing through the arena like a runaway freight train. "Probably why U.A. designed it to be more about survival than straight-up fighting. They're testing who can stay cool under pressure."

"That, or who has the good sense to run away," Shinso replied dryly.

Hayato let out a snort, appreciating the humour despite the tense situation. They continued running, and as they moved, Hayato assisted Shinso's group by occasionally using wind blasts to propel them forward or float them over smaller obstacles.

Meanwhile, on the observation screens, Present Mic's voice echoed across reality letting everyone and there mother know what Shinso's quirk was.

"Now, if you all aren't familiar with Shinso's quirk, let me introduce it: Brainwashing! With this unique ability, he can control anyone who answers him, an impressive and cunning quirk that requires intelligence and precise strategy to use effectively. Not your typical offensive power, but definitely a valuable skill in a situation like this!"

The teachers nodded, impressed with Shinso's quick thinking and calm composure. Aizawa, watching Shinso closely, crossed his arms, a hint of pride in his eyes.

"See how he's using his quirk to lead people out of danger?" All Might commented, admiration in his voice. "That's quick thinking, turning a quirk that's traditionally seen as villainous into something heroic."

In Battle Center G, the countdown was ticking closer to the final moments. Hayato was losing track of the time as he flitted from one group of students to the next, using controlled gusts of wind to help anyone he could reach. The practical had devolved into a frantic game of survival, with students scrambling to avoid the lumbering Zero-Pointer.

Every so often, Hayato found himself near the massive robot. It took a colossal amount of willpower not to use his stronger moves to take it down, but he resisted, keeping his energy controlled. He relied on his speed, his sharp reflexes, and his wind blasts, resisting the temptation to unleash his special moves. He knew better than anyone that conserving his stamina could make the difference between victory and failure.

The seconds dragged on, each one feeling longer than the last. Hayato glanced around, his gaze shifting from the Zero-Pointer to the other students struggling to escape. For the first time, he felt a flicker of uncertainty. Just how long would they be expected to keep going?

Then, like a final test of his patience, he saw a student stumble. Without hesitation, he sent a precise gust of wind to lift them out of harm's way. With that final student, he was starting to feel his control begin to wane, but a blessing came shortly after he noticed.

Finally, the horn blared, signalling the end of the test. The practical portion was over.

Hayato didn't even wait for the dust to settle before he collapsed to the ground, landing on his back and letting out a long, exhausted sigh. Mentally drained, he shut his eyes, muttering under his breath, "Used my brain way too much today..."

Shinso dropped down beside him, equally drained but with a small, satisfied grin tugging at his lips. "Tell me about it," he huffed, catching his breath. "Between herding everyone and dodging that oversized tin can, I've had my fill."

Hayato chuckled, glancing sideways at him. "Bet you didn't think today would go as well as it did huh?."

Shinso rolled his eyes, brushing off the jab. "Well, you're right. The practical was what scared me the most, but with what you told me at the beginning, I may have actually made it to the hero course."

Hayato let out a soft laugh, his gaze turning to the clear sky above. "You're welcome."

"I didn't say thank you?" Shinso told him.

"I know, but you are right? Thankful?" Hayato questioned, turning his head to see his companion. He got a nod in return.

Present Mic's voice echoed again through the speakers. "That's a wrap, listeners! If you're in need of medical assistance, stay where you are and help will come to you."

The tension of the test finally dissipated, leaving Hayato and Shinso lying side by side, their breaths slowly returning to normal. A faint, shared sense of relief hung between them, neither saying much but somehow understanding the other's weariness.

"Wanna bet on who had it worse out there?" Shinso murmured, his tone half-joking.

Hayato chuckled, his eyes still fixed on the sky. "Maybe next time, when I'm less brain-dead."

Shinso let out a tired laugh, nodding in agreement as the two lay in companionable silence, savouring the small victory they'd earned.