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A gasp swept through the remaining students, the shock causing them to montarily forget the imminent peril. They exchanged wide-eyed looks, their previous wariness replaced by a growing sense of dread.
anwhile, Class 1-A was headed towards the building designated for the second round. As they approached a bridge, they found a figure standing there, blocking their path. The student had an imposing build, with straight purple hair that matched to his deep blue school uniform. His face wore a wild, eager grin, and his dark eyes were focused intently on them.
Peculiar atballs were strewn around the student, their presence adding to the eeriness of the scene. The atballs seed to pulse, a strange, unexplained phenonon that seed to revolve around this figure.
Despite the unsettling sight before them, Class 1-A remained undeterred. Mokami's gaze locked onto the student before them, his face remaining impassive. His hand squeezed Momo's slightly, a small reassurance before they stepped forward. The rest of the class stood ready, their eyes darting between Mokami and the figure.
"You think those atballs are his quirk?" Mina murmured, her eyes narrowing suspiciously at the spectacle. Her gaze darted to Mokami, a silent question in her eyes.
"Could be," Jiro chid in, her earjack twirling in thought. "Or maybe it's a trap. Could be filled with so kind of gas or liquid."
Asui tilted her head to the side, her frog-like eyes observing the strange atballs carefully. "They seem alive," she croaked out, her tongue flicking out briefly. "Like they're breathing."
The figure that barred their path was Seiji Shishikura, a student from Shiketsu High. He was infamous for his high-handed attitude and his unusual quirk. He looked down at the UA students, a haughty grin on his face.
"Uncouth plebeians," he said, his voice loud and grating in the quiet. His eyes scanned over the students, lingering on Mokami for a beat longer. "You lot are nothing but unruly children, undeserving of the title of 'hero'."
Jiro rolled her eyes, her hand twitching towards her earjack, but Mokami gave her a subtle shake of his head. He continued to et Shishikura's gaze, his face calm and indifferent.
"In Shiketsu, we are required to wear our caps at all tis. Every move we make reflects our school and our dedication," Shishikura continued, pulling his cap lower over his eyes. "Yet, here you are, a group of frivolous kids, masquerading as potential heroes."
Mina's lips pursed, a retort at the tip of her tongue, but Mokami's quiet but firm gaze held her back. He simply stared back at Shishikura, not dignifying him with a response.
Not one to be deterred, Shishikura laughed, a loud, obnoxious sound that echoed in the tense silence. "It's the likes of you that disgust
the most," he sneered, pointing a finger at Mokami. "Always acting cool and handso."
He maneuvered his hands, the peculiar atballs strewn around him pulsating in unison. It was an uncanny sight, one that held the UA students on high alert. Bakugo's fists clenched, ready to blast them to oblivion, but a glance from Mokami made him pause. Mokami, their calm and composed leader, remained still, his gaze locked onto Shishikura's.
"I'm going to enjoy this," Shishikura said, a gleeful smirk on his face. He manipulated his flesh, sending a surge of it towards Mokami. It was an obvious attack, one that Mokami could've easily dodged. But he didn't move. He stood there, his figure strong and unwavering.
Shishikura's smirk widened as his attack landed. He could almost see Mokami being turned into one of his atballs, another display of his power. "This is what you deserve," he taunted, his laughter echoing in the air.
The tension in the air was thick enough to cut through, but Class 1-A remained calm. They knew Mokami, knew his strength and his strategy. And if Mokami wasn't concerned, neither were they.
Shishikura was practically vibrating with triumph, his body shaking with mirth. "See, this is what happens when you underestimate Shiketsu," he said, addressing the silent UA students.
Bakugo snorted, his gaze never leaving Mokami. "We'll see about that," he said, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips.
The abrupt change in Mokami's otherwise passive deanor had an imdiate effect on the dynamic of the confrontation. The mont he chose not to dodge Shishikura's attack, it was as if ti itself had paused. Bakugo, the explosive classmate, visibly relaxed as his smirk widened. Momo squeezed Mokami's hand back as if offering silent support, and Jiro's earjack stilled in anticipation.
The atball attack hit Mokami, but it did not alter him as Shishikura had expected. Instead, it bounced off his skin in an eerie, almost surreal way, splattering back into a harmless globule on the ground.
"How is that even possible?" Shishikura exclaid, his confident deanor waning under the weight of his disbelief.
But instead of the fear or panic he expected, a genuine smile graced Mokami's lips. He moved with the speed and grace of a predator, appearing next to Shishikura within seconds. His fist connected with Shishikura's gut, the impact heavy enough to knock him off his feet and into unconsciousness.
"Let's go," Mokami simply said.
The atmosphere around Class 1-A shifted as they silently followed Mokami's lead. Kirishima, usually a ball of fiery energy, simply fell into step with Mokami, an almost proud smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.
"Nice punch," he said, slapping Mokami on the back. "Reminded
of All Might."
Asui, whose sharp eyes had been observing the atballs closely, let out a croak of agreent, her tongue flicking out in a brief flash of amusent. "He did look a bit like a atball after that punch, ribbit," she quipped, causing a ripple of laughter among the group.
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