**Chapter 06: The First Game.
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"There they are! The ones who fought the evil alliance and came out alive! They are our stars for today! From the Hero Course, The Students of Class 1-A!"
Teacher Yamada's voice echoed through the stadium as he played the role of commentator, his excitement contagious. Beside him, Teacher Aizawa sat with his typical nonchalance, his voice a stark contrast to Yamada's enthusiasm.
"You don't need to rip out my eardrums," Aizawa muttered, adjusting the bandages around his head as he half-listened to the roar of the crowd.
**Yeeeeaaaaah!!!**
The audience erupted into deafening cheers as students from multiple classes streamed into the vast arena from various doors. It wasn't just Class 1-A; a total of 11 classes from four different courses marched toward the center of the stadium, where Midnight, the festival's referee, stood on a platform. Her presence commanded attention, her sharp smile reflecting the intense energy buzzing through the crowd.
Midnight raised her hand, her red lips curling into a grin that could set the arena ablaze. The audience, filled with anticipation, waited for her words.
"After hearing all these enthusiastic cheers, I won't prolong the introduction! I'm calling forward the top scorer from the Hero Course Entrance Exam to give the opening remarks. Step up to the podium, Bakugo Katsuki!"
A ripple of surprise passed through Class 1-A. All eyes turned to Bakugo, whose response was immediate and confident. His hands buried casually in his pockets, he began walking towards the podium. Each step seemed to exude a defiant pride.
Kirishima, usually unfazed by Bakugo's antics, leaned closer to Kaminari and muttered, "Bakugo? Are we sure this is... safe?"
Kaminari's expression twisted with a mix of amusement and dread. "Definitely not. He's the worst person for this kind of moment."
Their whispered exchange was loud enough for most of the nearby students to hear. The atmosphere was thick with tension, but Fulan, who had remained relatively silent throughout the march, finally spoke, his calm voice cutting through the soft murmurings.
"Why is he the worst choice?" Fulan asked, his gaze fixed on Bakugo as he continued his deliberate march towards the podium. "He earned the top spot in the entrance exam, didn't he? You should be proud to have someone like him in your class. Instead of criticizing him, maybe you should follow his example and strive to catch up."
Kaminari and Kirishima exchanged glances, slightly taken aback by Fulan's words. Bakugo's volatile reputation was well-known among them, and defending him was not something they had expected. Yet Fulan's words were spoken with such conviction that they hesitated to respond.
Midoriya, who stood quietly nearby, felt compelled to explain. "Fulan-kun," he began softly, "we all acknowledge Kacchan's talent. He deserves the top spot. But his personality... well, it's not exactly suited for situations like this. He's probably going to stir up some trouble with the other classes—"
Midoriya's words were cut off as Bakugo's voice boomed through the microphone, his expression one of absolute certainty.
"Sensei, I swear I'll be the winner."
For a brief moment, the entire stadium was stunned into silence. The boldness of his declaration caught everyone off guard. Then, the uproar began. Shouts of anger and frustration erupted from the other classes, their voices merging into a chaotic chorus of dissent.
"Class 1-A! You're as arrogant as ever!"
"When will you get it through your heads? You're not better than us!"
"Don't think you're special just because you fought some villains!"
Fulan's gaze darted around as the wave of criticism washed over them. He struggled to comprehend the hostility directed at Bakugo—and by extension, the entirety of Class 1-A. Meanwhile, Bakugo, who had descended from the podium, walked with the same calm assurance. He paused as he passed Fulan, his gaze still focused straight ahead, but his words were directed clearly at him.
"Hey, stranger. I don't need you to defend me from anyone. I don't want anyone following my example either. I'll be number one, and there's no room for anyone else to be like me."
Fulan stiffened slightly, realizing Bakugo had overheard his earlier comments. Bakugo's words were sharp, but they carried an air of finality. He didn't need or want admiration—only victory.
As Bakugo continued walking, Kirishima, unable to resist, called out with an exasperated tone, "You did this on purpose, didn't you? Now everyone's going to hate us even more."
Bakugo's response was immediate, delivered with his signature, unshakeable confidence. "It doesn't matter. As long as I'm on top, none of it matters."
The other students from Class 1-A, including Fulan, could only watch Bakugo in silence. His unwavering self-assurance was difficult to argue with, though it did little to ease the tension mounting between their class and the others.
Before anyone could dwell further on Bakugo's words, Midnight's voice rang out, capturing the attention of both students and spectators alike.
"It seems you all have plenty of energy to burn—excellent! Let's put that vitality to good use with our first game! What do you say, audience?!"
**Yeeeeaaaaah!!!**
The crowd roared, the excitement palpable as the huge electronic screen lit up with the words "Obstacle Race."
"Listen up!" Midnight continued, her voice commanding. "Only 42 of you will make it to the next round. The race will be run around the entire campus, with a number of obstacles in your way. You'll start at the same gate you finish at, so getting a spot near the front is more important than you can imagine!"
With that, the students began to move. Some walked, others jogged, and a few, like Bakugo, broke into a sprint, eager to secure their position near the gate. The energy in the air was palpable, every student's heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and anxiety.
Fulan found himself swept along with the tide of competitors. His mind raced, trying to assess the situation, to understand the strategies that might lead to victory. The noise of the crowd faded slightly as his focus sharpened.
The festival had only just begun, but the stakes were clear. The first game—an obstacle race—was about to test not only their physical abilities but their determination and will to succeed.
The real competition was about to unfold, and for Class 1-A, the fight to prove their worth had already begun.
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