MHA: Bat to the Future: The Other Midoriya[Completed] Ch118- Right

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The cheers didn’t die down imdiately. It took a mont before the next steps even registered. Eventually, the results were tallied, but the outco was obvious.

"And the winner of this year’s U.A. School Festival Beauty Pageant is… Nejire Hado!"

If the cheers were loud before, they outright exploded now. Nejire threw her hands up, spinning once before accepting the crown. The other contestants clapped, so looking impressed, so already over it.

Nejire pointed at from the stage, mouthing 'You are the best.'

I smirked. "Yeah, yeah."

Mina nudged . "Dude, you just helped her win a whole-ass contest. That is power."

Kaminari grinned. "We should start charging for your skills. ‘Need a boost? Call Ryuu Midoriya, designer extraordinaire.’"

Jiro shook her head. "Yeah, because that wouldn’t go to his head at all."

I stretched. "If it gets paid, I don’t mind."

“Too late for that,” Kaminari muttered, already scrolling through his phone. “You are blowing up.”

I blinked. “Am I?”

He turned the screen toward . #UAFestival, #MissCon, #FairyQueenNejire, #WingReveal, and-

#WhoMadeTheDress

The video clip was short. A ten-second slow-mo loop of Nejire’s wings unfurling midair, light glinting across the refraction strands like falling stars. The caption was from a student in the Business Course.

“Word is she filed a gear registration last-minute. Whoever made that dress had to fill out a tech form for the kinetic elents. Anyone know who Ryuu Midoriya is?? 👀👀👀”

I blinked. “Oh. Shit.”

Yaoyorozu tilted her head. “They are… checking the equipnt filings?”

“Of course they are,” Jiro muttered. “Hero support stuff needs registry clearance. It is U.A.-they don’t let Quirk-reactive materials go onstage without docuntation.”

Mina leaned over Kaminari’s shoulder. “Wait, is your na actually on the record?”

“I didn’t think anyone would check that fast,” I muttered.

“Bro, it is the Business Course. Their whole thing is stalking paperwork,” Kaminari said.

Sero slid up next to us, eyes wide. “People are quoting the registry tag in the comnt threads now. You are officially being blad.”

I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t even want credit.”

Mina grinned. “Too late, Mr. Designer.”

“Soone just posted a screenshot of the filing,” Kaminari added. “You are listed as designer and fabricator. Dude, it is over.”

Across the path, I heard soone whisper, “Wait, Midoriya? Like, the Midoriya? The problem kid?”

Another voice: “He made that dress?”

“No way… wasn’t he the one who tackled a villain through a store window a week ago?”

“Yeah, and now he is out here winning pageants by proxy??”

I sighed. “This is going to get annoying.”

Toru wandered up, sucking on a drink pouch. “Hey, you are trending under like, three fashion tags. You’ve officially crossed into influencer territory.”

“Kill .”

“Nope!” She grinned. “Also, Axis Threads just reposted the wing clip. They tagged Nejire and said they are ‘impressed with the dress.’”

“I am gonna set my phone on fire.”

Nejire drifted over, crown still tilted on her head like she was born wearing it. “Awww, look at you, getting all famous and shy.”

I gave her a look. “You knew this would happen, didn’t you.”

She bead. “I might’ve accidentally ntioned you in my pre-contest form. Y’know, to register the support gear legally.”

“You registered as a support tech?”

“You built the whole suit, Ryuu.”

I groaned. “That was supposed to be a favor, not a job application.”

She twirled. “Too late. You’ve been headhunted by half the Engineering Departnt. Look-”

She pointed behind . A small cluster of Support Course students were standing near one of the food stalls, very obviously whispering and side-eyeing .

One had a sketchpad. Another had a damn tablet. I heard phrases like “low-reaction thread layering” and “Quirk-responsive luminescence curve” and “can we reverse-engineer the wing delay trigger?”

Kirishima clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Dude. You are a legend.”

“I will commit cri,” I muttered.

Mina patted my back. “This is what happens when you do cool shit. People notice.”

Jiro raised a brow. “You could’ve stayed anonymous.”

“I tried.”

Nejire held up her phone, already scrolling. “You’ve got like four different edits already. One has you Photoshopped as a magical girl seamstress. Another says you forged her dress in dragonfire.”

“…Honestly, that one is kinda sick.”

Mina pointed at a booth up ahead. “I swear, even a few company reps are poking around. That is Mr. Arakida from Nova Design… he is in charge of field-gear prototyping.”

Jiro stared. “Seriously?”

“Yup. He asked one of the judges where she got her kinetic shimr textiles.”

I sighed. “You think if I dive into the nearest trash can and pretend to be a space racoon, they will forget about this?”

Nejire looped an arm around my shoulders. “Nope. You are famous now, Dress Daddy.”

Jiro nearly choked. “I refuse to let that na stick.”

Kaminari cackled. “TOO LATE. SCREENSHOTTED.”

Monoma, standing several rows back with the rest of 1-B, muttered sothing under his breath.

“Unbelievable. First the concert, now this. He makes one dress and they treat him like a celebrity.”

–

We skipped the obstacle course. Bakugo wanted to win sothing, but no one gave a shit, so we moved on.

The Support Course exhibition was already packed. Students had set up booths filled with their latest projects… everything from custom hero gadgets to borderline war cris disguised as “innovations.” Hatsu’s booth, as expected, took center stage.

I adjusted Eri on my shoulders as we walked up. “You ready for whatever insane bullshit she is about to pull?”

Kaminari snorted. “Bro, I heard she nearly set the gym on fire.”

Jiro shook her head. “That was ‘only a minor combustion issue,’ according to her.”

“Minor, my ass,” Sero muttered. “That thing exploded like a Michael Bay movie.”

We reached the booth. Hatsu stood proudly in front of sothing way too big to be legal. “Behold! The Super Cute Baby-202!”

The rest of the exhibition was more manageable. So gadgets were actually useful- like an automatic brace that adjusted to injuries or boots designed for high-mobility quirks.

Kirishima tested a reinforced combat glove and nearly took Kaminari’s head off by accident. Mina played with so hover tech until she almost crashed into a stand.

Eventually, we wrapped up and made our way back toward the main festival area.

Kaminari stretched. “Alright, that was fun. What now?”

Mina grinned. “More food.”

“You are a black hole.”

“I am hungry.”

Eri pointed toward a takoyaki stand. “That.”

Nejire clapped her hands. “Excellent choice, my tiny apprentice.”

We grabbed food and found a spot near the main stage. The festival was winding down, but energy was still high. Groups moved between booths, laughter and conversation filling the air.

Eri swung her legs slightly, holding her stuffed bear with one hand, a takoyaki stick in the other. “Delicious.”

Nejire leaned against . “So. When are you making another dress?”

“Never.”

She gasped dramatically. “How dare you.”

Kaminari nudged . “Dude, you should totally go into costu design. Make so cash.”

Jiro smirked. “Yeah, you already made one girl into a walking light show.”

I rolled my eyes. “I am not taking commissions.”

Yaoyorozu looked at , eyes shining. "I can pay."

I wrapped my arm around her neck and pulled her in like we were about to discuss a drug deal. "Let’s talk details."

And with that, I dragged her away.

The festival winded down, people scattering between booths, finishing up whatever last-minute fun they could squeeze in before it ended. Eri clutched her giant bear, half-dragging it along the ground as she stared at the food stands like she was still considering getting more.

"You are gonna pop if you keep eating," I said.

She looked up at . "Pop?"

"Explode," Nejire added, making an exaggerated boom motion.

Eri frowned and grabbed her stomach like she was actually checking. "Oh."

Nejire gasped. "We must protect her at all costs."

As we started making our way toward the exit, the crowd was still alive, students lingering, finishing up last conversations, trading festival snacks. So stopped to wave or shout about the concert. Others just looked at us like we were the weirdest pack of strays to ever exist.

Eri clutched her bear tighter, glancing around. "This was nice."

I glanced at her. "Yeah?"

She nodded.

Nejire grinned, leaning on dramatically. "Well, don’t worry, Eri-chan! There is always next year!"

She tilted her head. "Next year?"

I ruffled her hair. "Yeah. Next year."

FINAL REWARD SUMMARY

Base XP Earned: 1,275 XP

Stat Gains:

1 Awareness (Party Planner from Hell)

1 Intelligence (No Uninvited Guests)

2 Charisma (A Kid Deserves to Smile Dancing Queen Bonus)

New Skills & Passives:

"Veilpiercer" (Passive) – Allows the user to detect subtle deceptions, disguises, or hidden presences within a close range. Enhances perception against illusion-based quirks and deceptive opponents. No more trickery, no more hidden threats.

"Aria of the Arcane" (Passive) – Voice carries an unnatural weight- commands spoken with intent influence the weak-willed. A voice that bends will, demanding attention, silencing chaos.

"Eclipse Strike" (Active) – A strike imbued with disruptive energy, temporarily severing the connection between an opponent and their quirk for a few seconds upon impact. Stronger against weak willed quirk-reliant fighters.

[Hidden Quest Unlocked]

"Moonlit Muse" – Beauty is a Weapon Too

Turns out, heroism isn’t just about saving lives and fighting villains… it is about presentation, charisma, and knowing how to make an impact. You decided to help Nejire win the U.A. Beauty Pageant, crafting her dress and ensuring she completely stole the show.

✔ OBJECTIVE COMPLETED:

Designed and crafted a jaw-dropping dress for Nejire.

Guided her on how to dominate the stage and handle the competition.

Ensured her win was undisputed, leaving the other contestants in the dust.

In the process, elevated your own reputation as soone who doesn’t just fight, you make legends.

REWARD:

100 XP

New Passive Skill – "Moonweaver’s Gift" (Objects you craft by hand hold a faint arcane resonance, enhancing the perception, confidence, or presence of those who wear them. Clothing imbued with this effect subtly influences fate… fortunes shift, luck stirs.)

Special Titles Earned:

"Mythmaker" – Your actions don’t just win battles… they weave stories. Whether in combat, on stage, or behind the scenes, you create monts that won’t be forgotten.

"Celestial Artisan" – Your hands don’t just shape materials, they breathe power into them. Clothing, weapons, objects… all beco more than they were ant to be when you craft them.

--

We dropped Mom and Eri off first.

Eri was out cold before the door even shut. Shoes still on, curled up on the couch like she ant to rest for five seconds and forgot to stop. Mom gave that look, you know the one, then turned to Izuku and said, “You too, don’t stay out late.” Like we were still twelve. He just nodded and mumbled sothing polite. I flicked her keys at the counter and we left.

“You good?” I asked after a bit.

Izuku nodded. “Just tired.”

"Bitch, I did everything, how the fuck are you tired?"

He gave that fake laugh. “You didn’t carry three whole amps.”

“Oh no,” I gasped, dragging my voice all dramatic. “Three amps? My hero.”

He shoved my shoulder. I didn’t budge. Weak Waterworks.

“You were just yelling into a radio and pretending you knew how sound systems work,” he muttered.

“I did know. I watched one YouTube video.”

He stared at . “You burned your hand.”

“That wire looked safe.”

“You said, and I quote, ‘If it sparks, that ans it is working.’”

“It was working.”

He made a noise halfway between a sigh and a laugh and kicked at a bottle on the sidewalk. It clinked and rolled into the gutter.

“Hey,” Izuku said. “You think Eri liked it?”

“Duh.”

“I an... really liked it. Not just faking because we were all watching.”

I kicked at a loose bit of curb. “She cried smiling, dumbass. Pretty sure that is the good kind.”

He nodded. I saw him pull at his sleeve, twist it around his fingers. Classic overthinking tic.

“She looked small again,” he mumbled. “At the start. Like back in...”

“Yeah. But she danced at the end.”

“…She was off-beat.”

“She is five.”

“I am just saying.”

I turned to him. “You judging a traumatized kid’s rhythm now?”

He raised both hands. “I am just saying!”

We reached the park near the dorms. That little roofed spot where we used to cut through after middle school was across the hill. Sat on the bench like we used to, legs stretched out, bags dropped behind us.

“I was really gonna hit Chisaki,” he said, quiet. “Back then. When we saw her with him. I almost did it.”

“I know.”

“Mirio grabbed my arm. Nighteye blocked the path. I froze. I just let it go.”

“Yeah.”

“I hated that.”

I leaned back, hands behind my head.

He continued, “I am glad you didn’t.”

I punched his leg. Hard enough to shut him up. You know that point where it hurts but also sweet? No? Okay, I am crazy.

He winced. “Ow, what the hell?”

“I didn’t because I didn’t want to. You did because you wanted everyone to be happy.”

He looked over at , confused like I was trying to turn it into a riddle.

“You are not wrong,” I said. “I am not wrong either. Just do what makes you happy, if you can live with yourself.”

He blinked. “That is... kind of deep for you.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

He rubbed his leg, “You think I could’ve actually taken him? Back then, I an.”

I snorted. “You? No shot.”

“Hey-!”

“He would’ve splattered you across the floor. Like bam... emotional damage and physical goo on the ground.”

Izuku puffed his cheeks like he was gonna argue, then deflated. “Yeah, probably.”

“But I would have backed you up,” I said, kicking his shoe with mine. “Would’ve been the dumbest fight of our lives. But yeah.”

He gave a crooked grin. “You saying I should’ve done it?”

"I am just saying,” I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, “next ti you feel that pull? Just do what you want.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“If you can live with not being a hero, breaking laws, going vigilante, or even terrorist-level stupid, do it. If not, don’t.”

Izuku stared at like I just told him to rob a bank.

“That is your advice?”

“Yup.”

“That is the worst moral compass I’ve ever heard.”

“And yet,” I said, pointing at him, “you are still listening.”

He scratched the back of his head and muttered, “You are seriously ssed up.”

“Sure am. But I sleep great.”

He laughed, “I don’t want to go full rogue,” he said. “I just... there are monts. Where everything is moving and I am frozen. Where I know what I want to do, and I still wait for permission.”

I nodded. “And I don’t.”

“Exactly. You just move. You don’t ask.”

“Yeah, and it backfires like half the ti. But the other half?” I looked at him. “Eri danced.”

He got quiet again.

"Yeah. That is the thing, right?"

"Right."

Spoiler

[collapse]

--

Legolas gazes out at the ruined battlefield.

Gimli: “How many votes today?”

Legolas: “None.”

Gimli: “None?”

Legolas: “Not even a comnt.”

The dwarf spits.

Gimli: “I knew it. Elves may live long, but readers… readers forget fast.”

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