章節 22: The U.A Festival Ends.

...

The quiet hum of medical equipment filled the infirmary, a stark contrast to the chaos of the arena. Kaminari laying on the bed, bruised, bandaged, and utterly drained. His body was propped up slightly, monitors beeping steadily at his side. The room smelled of antiseptic, and the faint flicker of dim lights reflected off the sterile white walls.

In the corner, Recovery Girl stormed in, her face a mix of anger and concern. She was a seasoned hero in her own right, renowned not only for her medical skills but for her no-nonsense approach. Her eyes were sharp, burning with frustration as she crossed the room toward the patient.

"You just couldn't listen, could you?" she snapped, her voice low but filled with fury. "I told you—warned you—not to go overboard! That your body can't handle this kind of strain anymore!"

Although still groggy, he managed a weak smirk. "It wasn't exactly a situation I could pull back from..." he muttered, his voice hoarse.

Her eyes narrowed. "Don't give me that." she growled, grabbing a nearby chart and slamming it onto the counter. "You were inches away from completely burning out! Look at you!" She gestured to his battered body, wrapped in bandages and hooked up to various machines. "Do you have any idea what your condition is right now?"

He sighed, feeling the weight of her words press down on him as much as the ache in his muscles. "I had to win... For her..."

"And what good would you have been if you'd ended up in a coma—or worse, dead?" she retorted, her tone softening slightly as the anger ebbed into pure worry. She stepped closer as she adjusted a bandage. "You're not invincible, no matter how much you think you are."

There was a moment of silence as she worked, her movements swift but precise. The hero winced as she tightened a wrap around his arm, and she gave him a sharp look.

"You think this is the first time I've seen a student nearly kill themselves because they couldn't stop pushing?" she continued, more quietly now. "I've had to patch up more people than I can count, and every time it's the same—'I had no choice,' or 'It's for the greater good.' You soon-to-be heroes always think you're the only one who can save the day."

Kaminari looked away, his smirk fading. He knew she was right. His body was screaming at him, and yet, there was always that nagging feeling—if he didn't push past his limits, who would?

She softened further, pulling up a stool beside him. "Listen," she said, her voice calmer now but no less serious. "I'm here to make sure you can keep fighting tomorrow and the day after that. But if you keep doing this, one day, I won't be able to patch you up. You can't achieve your sister's dream if you're dead."

He nodded slowly, his exhaustion catching up with him, but not before he murmured, "Thanks, Recovery Girl... I'll try to do better."

She sighed, finally standing. "You better. Because next time, I won't just lecture you. I'll personally make sure you're benched until you learn to take care of yourself."

As she turned to leave, he closed his eyes, letting the sounds of the infirmary wash over him. He knew the battle was over, but the consequences were just beginning.

Outside the infirmary, a group of people gathered, waiting avidly for any news of Kaminari. All Might, Maxwell and Edith, Jirou, Yaoyorozu, Kirishima, Mina and Ojirou. Before the ceremony, the atmosphere buzzed with anticipation. The sound of the crowd filtered through the walls, echoing excitement and hope. All Might stood tall, his presence a beacon of strength, as he discussed the event with the boy's parents, who were pacing nervously.

Suddenly, Recovery Girl exits the room, her expression a mix of relief and seriousness. The air shifted as everyone turned to her, eager for news about the battered student.

"I've just come from his bedside," she said, her tone commanding attention. "He's stable and recovering, and I'm happy to report that he will be fine."

A collective sigh of relief swept through the group, but the nurse held up a hand, her expression turning grave. "However, there's some bad news. While his body is healing, his powers are temporarily offline."

The friends exchanged worried glances. "What do you mean?" Ojirou asked, the urgency in his voice rising.

"His healing factor is consuming all of his energy," the nurse explained, her gaze steady. "It's uncertain when—or if—his powers will fully return. Right now, he's simply too weak to use them."

All Might's brows furrowed, concern replacing his earlier confidence. "That's serious," he said quietly. "He's relied on those abilities, especially in battles."

"I know," she replied, crossing her arms. "And I'll be honest; it's a major setback for him. He may be strong-willed, and I believe he'll get through this, but we must prepare for the worst case scenario: The possibility that his quirk will only serve to keep him from succumbing from his injuries."

His friends looked at each other, their expressions a mix of concern and determination. "He's faced worse," Jirou said, trying to keep the mood from sinking further. "He can do this. We'll support him."

"He'll need all the support he can get," the nurse agreed. "Just be ready for some tough days ahead. His spirit is resilient, but his body will need time to adjust."

All Might nodded, processing the information. "We'll make sure he knows he's not alone in this. When he comes out there today, it'll be important for him to feel the support of all of us."

"Exactly," the nurse said, her demeanor softening. "He'll need to know that even without his powers, he's still a hero in everyone's eyes."

With a deep breath, All Might turned to the door, determination etched on his face. "Let's get ready for the ceremony. It's time to show him just how much he means to us."

The group followed suit, a renewed sense of purpose igniting within them. They would rally around their friend, lifting him up even in this moment of uncertainty, reminding him that true heroism was not defined solely by powers but by the strength of character, resilience, and the bonds they shared.

...

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue over the city as the aftermath celebration began. The atmosphere buzzed with excitement and relief, a sense of gratitude filling the air. A grand stage had been set up in the central square, adorned with banners and flags bearing the emblems of U.A.

As the crowd gathered, Kaminari, still weary but recovering, stood at the forefront, flanked by his fellow students under the podium. The cheers from earlier had transformed into a wave of applause, echoing across the square as they awaited the ceremony to begin.

Midnight stepped onto the stage, microphone in hand, and the crowd hushed in anticipation. "Ladies and gentlemen, today we gather to honor our brave students who stood against all odds and emerged victorious!"

The battered champion stood backstage, still sore and healing from the battle. His body ached with every step, his movements were stiff, and the bandages beneath his clothes pulled against his wounds. But there was no avoiding this moment. The victory had been hard-won, and now, the world was here to recognize it.

From under the podium, he could hear the crowd—thousands gathered in the square, the energy palpable even from where he stood. Beside him, Todoroki and Tokoyami gave him reassuring pats on the shoulder, but it did little to ease the heaviness in his chest. His eyes flicked to the side, where Bakugou was being restrained. The boys eyes burned with fury, muscles straining against the cuffs that kept him in check. Though physically beaten, his rage was unchecked, the hatred in his gaze as sharp as it had been during the fight.

"You're lucky." Bakugou growled, his voice low, but the venom in it unmistakable. "This isn't over."

Kaminari glanced at him briefly, too exhausted to respond with more than a small shake of his head. "We'll see." he muttered, turning back as the platform is being lifted.

The greatest hero—All Might—was waiting at the center of the stage. A towering figure, iconic in both presence and legend, All Might had saved the world countless times, and now, he stood ready to honor the newest generation. Kaminari's heart pounded in his chest as he made his way up, the cheers of the crowd swelling as he stepped into the light.

As the ceremony unfolded, two other students stepped forward to receive their medals alongside the battered winner.

The first was Tokoyami, he stood confidently on stage. When All Might called his name, the crowd erupted in cheers. As he accepted his Medal, he turned to the audience with a faint smile.

Next to him was Todoroki, his demeanor was calm as usual, but the adrenaline of victory pulsed through him as he stepped up to receive his medal. As All Might placed the medal on his neck, a faint sensation of pride could be felt.

Bakugou's medal was difficult even for All Might, the expressive rage against the restraints made even All Might become fascinated at such energy.

"Young Bakugou, your medal." He said softly.

"EAT IT AND DIE, I DON'T WANT IT!" He managed to shout over the mouth restraint, All Might let a big laughter scape before placing the medal on his ears after heavy struggle.

...

All Might smiled warmly, his eyes full of pride as he beckoned the champion forward. "Today, we honor bravery beyond measure," He began, his voice commanding yet full of warmth. "In the face of overwhelming odds, this student stood tall. He pushed himself beyond his limits, and because of that, our world beared witness to a great prospect."

The crowd roared, but Kaminari barely heard it. His focus was entirely on All Might, who now stood directly in front of him, holding the Medal—a shining symbol of everything he'd fought for.

"You've done something extraordinary," All Might said softly, just between the two of them now. "I know what it's like to push yourself when you think you have nothing left. And I know how heavy the burden can be. But you didn't just won this festival—you inspired hope."

Kaminari, exhausted and overwhelmed, blinked back the emotion welling up in his chest. "I... I just did what had to be done," he replied, voice barely above a whisper.

All Might smile became even more evident, his hand resting on the boy's shoulder. "That's what makes you great. You're one of us now."

With that, All Might pinned the medal to the hero's chest, the crowd exploding into applause. The weight of the medal wasn't just physical—it felt like the culmination of everything he had endured.

But All Might wasn't finished. He pulled Kaminari into a strong, heartfelt embrace, holding him tight. "We're proud of you. Don't ever forget that," he whispered, the words carrying the weight of a mentor who knew what it took to carry a heavy burden on your shoulders.

Kaminari, still tired and sore, could only nod as he returned the embrace. For a brief moment, the exhaustion faded, replaced by a sense of belonging—of being recognized, not just for the battle he won, but for the boy he had become.

But from the sidelines, the second place seethed. His eyes burned with hatred, muscles flexing against the restraints as he struggled to break free. "This isn't over!" he bellowed, his voice drowned out by the cheers of the crowd. "You think you've won? You're nothing! NOTHING!"

He glanced toward the Bakugou, meeting his furious gaze. For a moment, the weight of the past days felt heavier again. But with All Might by his side, and the roar of the crowd behind him, he stood firm.

"You lost." Kaminari said quietly, looking at the restrained classmate with calm determination and a sincere smile. "Be a nice extra and make me look good."

Bakugou snarled, thrashing in his bonds, but it was futile. Kaminari turned back to face the crowd as All Might raised his arm in victory. The applause swelled, engulfing Bakugou's enraged curses, and in that moment, Kaminari knew—he was no longer just a foreigner. He was a symbol, a force for the future, and no matter what came next, he wouldn't be facing it alone.

His fellow classmates joined in, their cheers blending with those of the crowd. "You deserve this!" Midoriya shouted, while another clapped him on the back, grinning widely. The veteran heroes nodded in approval from the sidelines, their respect evident in their expressions.

With the medal draped around his neck, the winner turned to face the crowd, lifting his chin slightly, a spark of determination igniting within him. "Thank you, everyone!"

...

In the stands, his parents watched with emotions swirling between pride and concern. His mother's hands were clasped tightly in her lap, knuckles white as she watched her son limp across the stage, his every step showing the toll the battle had taken on him. "He looks so tired." she whispered to her husband, her voice trembling with a mixture of worry and admiration.

His father, usually stoic, couldn't keep his emotions in check either. "He always pushes himself too far." he muttered, but there was pride in his voice. "But he made it through. He always does."

When All Might placed the medal around their son's neck and pulled him into a heartfelt embrace, they both felt a wave of relief. Their son stood there, bruised, injured, but still standing—a testament to his strength and determination. His mother blinked back tears, her heart swelling with pride. "That's our boy," she said, her voice thick with emotion.

His father nodded, his gaze never leaving their son. "He's a fighter, always has been." He sighed deeply, the relief finally starting to sink in. "And now, the whole world knows it too." But amid the joy of seeing their son honored, there was an underlying sorrow they both carried.

His mother wiped away a tear, her voice soft and filled with emotion. "He's not just fighting for himself, you know. He's fighting for her too."

His father nodded, a deep sadness in his eyes. "Ana…" he whispered, the name hanging in the air like a distant memory. "She always wanted to be up there, didn't she?"

His mother's gaze drifted to their son, standing tall despite his battered body. "She would've been so proud of him," she said, her voice cracking. "He's carrying her dream with him, every step of the way."

His father's hand tightened around hers. "He's doing what she never got the chance to. And I think, in a way, she's there… through him."

Edith's eyes welled up as she whispered, "We should've been there for him more, after Ana…" Her voice faltered, as though saying her daughter's name aloud would break something fragile.

Maxwell's jaw tightened, his gaze fixed on their son. "We thought we were doing what was best, giving him space. But he's carried the weight of that guilt all by himself."

The accident that had taken Ana from them had become a silent burden. He'd never said it out loud, but they saw it in the way he fought, pushing himself to the edge, as if each battle was a way to atone for something no one could have prevented.

His voice softened. "It wasn't his fault… It was just an accident."

"But we didn't say that enough," she replied, her heart heavy with regret. "And now… he's fighting not just for her dream, but for redemption he never should've needed."

They watched their son, standing before the cheering crowd, a hero in every sense of the word. But to them, he was still their boy, carrying the weight of a loss none of them had been able to fully face.

"Maybe it's time we talk about it," Maxwell said quietly, though the idea felt daunting. "For his sake, for ours… for Ana."

Edith nodded, knowing it was long overdue.

They both watched as their son, standing in the spotlight, represented not just his own heroism but the dream his sister had once held so dearly. Ana might not have lived to see her dream realized, but in that moment, her spirit was alive, standing with him, through him.