[Third Person POV]
The long tables stretched across the training lodge's courtyard, covered in steaming trays of food that filled the air with the rich scent of roasted meats, fresh rice, miso soup, and bread rolls stacked high. The students of Class 1-A were gathered around them, plates piled to the brim. They dug in without hesitation, exhaustion from their trek through the mountains sharpening their hunger into something primal.
Chopsticks clattered, spoons scraped, and more than a few were eating with their hands. Manners were long forgotten in the face of such a feast.
"This is incredible!" Kirishima said with his mouth full, smacking his lips. "This is manly food right here!"
"Yeah!" Sato added between enormous bites. "It's like Lunch Rush level, maybe even better!"
"Don't let him hear you say that," Kaminari said with a laugh, stuffing his cheeks like a chipmunk. "He'll cry."
Pixie-Bob stood off to the side, arms crossed as she watched the students devour the meal like starved wolves. Her lips curled into a smirk. "Don't get too used to this. This was only your reward for today. So eat your fill until your heart's content—tomorrow will be different."
Mandalay carried boxes nearby, her expression softer, though she hid a little sigh at her partner's smugness. Beside her, Kota trudged silently, helping shift supplies with a blank, guarded look on his face.
As the chatter buzzed around the tables, Midoriya found his eyes wandering to Kota. Despite knowing better after their last interaction, his gaze kept drifting back, curiosity and concern etched into his features.
Melissa noticed. She leaned closer, her eyes narrowing slightly in thought before she asked with complete seriousness, "Are you a masochist?"
Midoriya, mid-bite, choked violently on his food. He grabbed for his drink in a panic, gulping it down until he could breathe again. Panting, he turned wide-eyed toward her. "Wha—what?!"
Melissa tilted her head, her tone still genuinely inquisitive. "You saw what happened when you tried talking to him. And yet, you keep looking over like you want to go again. So… I really can't help but wonder if you're a masochist."
"I-I'm not!!" Midoriya stammered, his face going beet red. His hands flailed for a moment before he tried to bury his embarrassment in another bite of food.
That only made things worse. Mina snorted into her drink. Kaminari nearly spat out rice as he laughed. Even Momo covered her lips to hide her giggle.
Soon, plates were empty and appetites sated. The class gathered outside once more, standing before Aizawa and the Pussycats.
Pixie-Bob stood with her arms crossed, her posture impatient, while Mandalay wore an expression of faint exasperation, Aizawa stepped forward, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. His tired eyes swept over the students before he gave his hair a small ruffle. "I'll be honest—you're ahead of schedule. By hours. We weren't expecting you to finish that trek so quickly. The plan was for you to arrive late, eat, bathe, sleep, and officially start training tomorrow morning."
Pixie-Bob huffed, tapping her foot. "And because of how fast you managed it, we're going to have to improvise. Class 1-B is still hours away from arriving, and they'll be handled by Ragdoll and Tiger. So…"
Mandalay stepped forward smoothly, picking up the explanation with her calm tone. "Your training for now will be more… personal. You've all proven capable against beasts—creatures that attack mindlessly, without thought or strategy. But how will you fare against opponents who are intelligent, cunning, and capable of planning?"
Uraraka raised her hand nervously, her voice cautious. "W-we're not going to be fighting actual bears in the forest, right?"
Mandalay chuckled softly, shaking her head. "No. That would be unnecessarily cruel." Then her expression brightened with a smile. "You'll be fighting each other."
For a moment, silence hung in the air as several students' eyes twitched, their thoughts aligning on the same sentiment: How is that any less cruel?!
Pixie-Bob smirked wide, enjoying their reactions far too much. "Since there's an even number of you, pairing off will be simple. You're allowed to use your quirks freely. Don't worry—Aizawa will be overseeing and will shut down anything that escalates too far."
Mandalay added firmly, "And don't get too comfortable with your partner. You'll be switching after a while. We want you all to adapt to different fighting styles."
…
Tony and Momo circled one another like predators sizing up their prey, their footsteps crunching against the dirt. Momo's staff trained directly at him with precise discipline. Tony, on the other hand, seemed relaxed, almost casual—his shield strapped to his back as he walked in deliberate circles, his sharp eyes never leaving hers.
Around the yard, the rest of Class 1-A were already paired off. Bakugo stood across from Melissa, sparks cracking at his palms as his glare clashed with her playful smirk. Mina bounced on her heels while Kirishima grinned fiercely, the two already hyping themselves up. Iida had squared himself against Kaminari, the latter looking both nervous and cocky at the same time. In the center, Midoriya and Todoroki stared each other down, tension in the air around them.
But Tony's focus was solely on Momo.
"Want to see something cool I created?" Momo asked suddenly, her tone light but her eyes sharp. A faint smile tugged at her lips. "It's nothing compared to the things you've built, but I'm pretty proud of it."
She spun her staff gracefully, the metal humming as one end morphed with a spark of energy. A spearhead of glowing crimson formed, crackling faintly as it solidified. With a sharp swipe, she dragged the tip across the dirt, carving a smoldering groove into the ground.
"I can project the energy into any shape I want. Basically…" She thrust her staff forward, the spearhead shifting in a shimmer of light. "It can become whatever weapon I need."
She snapped her wrist and energy discharged, a glowing bolt erupting from the spearhead. It exploded against the ground near Tony's leg, the dirt erupting in a burst of sparks.
A second spearhead, larger and more refined, formed at the tip of her weapon. Her lips curled into a smirk. "Did I mention I can fire them as projectiles?"
Tony's eyebrow arched, impressed despite himself. "Not bad." He rolled his shoulders, taking the shield from his back. "But is the little show-and-tell over? Because I'd like to get started."
The corner of Momo's lips twitched upward. Then she charged.
Her staff shot forward in a blur, stabbing again and again. Each strike came quick, precise, and unrelenting. Tony moved like water, shifting back, stepping to the side, leaning just far enough away to let each strike miss by inches. One thrust came so close it grazed his shirt, cutting a line just above his chest.
Tony snapped forward, grabbing her staff mid-swing and yanking her close. For a split second, her balance faltered—but her weapon shifted again. The spearhead warped into a glowing scythe, the curved blade slicing upward with deadly speed. Tony reacted instantly, vaulting over it with a backward flip, landing lightly as Momo twirled the weapon with dangerous elegance.
She spun, eyes sharp, her energy scythe leaving burning crescents in the air as she advanced. This time, Tony slipped his shield free, bringing it up in time to meet the glowing blade. Sparks scattered violently where metal and energy clashed.
Momo swung hard, arcs of light bursting against the shield's surface. Each clash sent a shockwave of sparks spraying outward, but Tony stood firm. Then, with a sudden twist, he flung the shield outward.
It cut through the air like a blade, whistling toward Momo. Her staff snapped up, blocking the strike with a burst of sparks. But by then, the shield had already ricocheted back, slamming into Tony's waiting hand.
The cycle repeated. He threw it again, forcing her to block. Again. Again. Each throw came faster, harder, forcing Momo to scramble, her staff meeting the shield with bursts of crackling energy. When he got close he personally drove his shield into her, she blocked with her staff but was sent skidding backwards until she split her staff cleanly into two, morphing into twin daggers glowing with energy. She stabbed them into the dirt, anchoring herself, halting her slide.
Tony came rushing in. His shield was back on his arm as he closed the distance. Momo lashed out with both blades, each strike leaving glowing aftertrails as she slashed at him with rapid precision.
He blocked one swipe with his shield, ducked under the other, and grabbed her wrists in a burst of speed. Driving his knee into her stomach, he forced a grunt from her as the air left her lungs. But she didn't falter—wrenching her arms free, she dropped low, sweeping his legs out from under him.
Tony fell back, but caught himself on his hands, flipping back upright in a quick recovery—only for Momo's heel to crash against his jaw. The impact snapped his head to the side, his body stumbling back a step.
The yard seemed to still for a moment. Then Tony slowly straightened, rolling his jaw with a faint smirk despite the blow. "That was nice~"
Momo twirled her daggers, her smirk matching his. "Thanks."
They lunged at the same time, blades and shield crashing again as their duel resumed.
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