My Hero Academia: Complete Victory

Musutafu, Aldera Junior High...is Bakugo's school before U.A. Btw, if isn't clear, I don't like Izuku MIDoriya. Btw, there's a Bleach reference here, if you can't find it...I'm allowed to say, you're not a Bleach fan.

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3:32 PM, Karakura Junior High.

The school day had ended hours ago, but the grounds were still buzzing with life. The air was thick with anticipation as students flooded the bleachers, their excited chatter mingling with the crisp autumn breeze.

Today was no ordinary day; it was the day of the big game between Aldera Junior High and Karakura High. Karakura had long held the crown for the best soccer team in the district, but Aldera's newfound spirit had turned this match into a clash for the ages.

On the sidelines, the cheerleading squads from both schools were in full swing, their vibrant uniforms flashing under the stadium lights. The rhythmic stomps and synchronized chants echoed across the field, each squad vying to outdo the other. It was a battle of energy and enthusiasm—except for one girl who seemed out of sync with the lively atmosphere.

Himiko Toga stood apart, her pom-poms hanging loosely at her sides. Her medium-length, ash-blonde hair, usually so full of life, seemed to droop in the cool air. Two delicate bangs framed her face, barely hiding the distant look in her golden eyes.

Despite her lackluster performance today, Himiko was one of the most popular girls at Karakura. Her charm had won her friends and admirers alike, and making it onto the cheerleading team had been another victory in her charmed life. So why, then, was there a shadow of sadness lingering over her?

The answer soon made itself known in the form of Heather Takami, the captain of the cheerleading team. Heather strode toward Himiko with a practiced grace that belied the tension crackling between them. Her ponytail bobbed with each step, the sharp gleam in her eyes revealing a deeper motive than simple concern.

"Himiko," Heather's voice was sweet, almost too sweet. "What's with the lack of energy? We're supposed to be supporting our team, not dragging them down." Her tone, however, betrayed the underlying bite.

Himiko's eyes flicked up, catching the condescending smirk curling Heather's lips. It was a look Himiko had grown accustomed to—one of veiled jealousy, disguised as helpful criticism. She could feel the eyes of the other cheerleaders on her, waiting to see how she would respond.

"I'm sorry, Heather," Himiko replied, her voice soft and measured. "I'm just… a bit distracted, I guess."

Heather's smirk widened, sensing weakness. She leaned in closer, lowering her voice to a whisper meant only for Himiko's ears. "Distracted? Or just not cut out for this? Maybe you should sit this one out if you're not feeling up to it. We wouldn't want you to embarrass yourself."

Himiko's heart tightened in her chest. A flicker of anger sparked within her, but she quickly buried it beneath a practiced smile. Unladylike, that's what it would be if she lashed out now. And Himiko Toga was nothing if not the perfect lady.

She nodded, forcing her lips to curl upward in a strained smile. "You're right, Heather. I'll try harder."

Heather's eyes gleamed with satisfaction, her smile one of triumphant superiority. "Good girl," she purred, giving Himiko a patronizing pat on the shoulder before turning on her heel and walking away, her voice rising to rally the rest of the squad. "Alright, girls! Let's show Aldera what Karakura is made of!"

Himiko watched her go, the smile slipping from her face the moment Heather's back was turned. The anger she'd swallowed earlier churned within her, mixing with the bitterness of Heather's words. It wasn't just the patronizing tone or the subtle jabs at her confidence—it was the way Heather relished in her perceived dominance, the way she basked in her superiority.

But no, Himiko wouldn't let it show. She would swallow her anger, bury it deep, and let it simmer there until it was nothing but a distant ache. That was what a lady would do. That was what she had to do.

...

Himiko took a deep breath, her mind a swirling storm of suppressed emotions. She tried to focus, convincing herself that everything would be better tomorrow, that if she just gave it her all, everything would fall into place.

She clung to that hope, even as the hollow ring of her thoughts echoed in her head. "Just smile, just try harder," she told herself, deluding herself into thinking it would be enough.

As the game continued, the tension on the field heightened. The crowd's cheers grew louder, a roaring wave of excitement that threatened to drown out Himiko's inner turmoil. Then, the halftime whistle blew, signaling a brief respite before the real battle began.

The players jogged off the field, and a murmur of anticipation spread through the stands as two new figures stepped onto the pitch. The energy shifted, and all eyes now focused on Karakura's ace duo: Saito Kazuma and 'Kuro' Tenshi. Their reputations had preceded them, and now the spectators were eager to see if they would live up to the hype.

Saito was a slender figure, his posture slightly hunched as though trying to make himself smaller. His timid demeanor off the field was a sharp contrast to his relentless drive on it. Known for his blinding speed, he had been the fastest runner on the track team before switching to soccer. Now, he was Kurakura's star striker, a blur of motion that defenders struggled to keep up with.

Kuro, on the other hand, was a beacon of optimism and energy. His sunny disposition was infectious, and it was hard not to be drawn to the boy with his bright smile and boundless enthusiasm.

Despite his cheerful exterior, Kuro's strength lay in his discipline and self-control—traits honed through years of Kendo training. He was the rock, the perfect defender with an uncanny ability to read the game like an open book.

As the second half began, it quickly became clear that these two were no ordinary players. Karakura's team was good—really good—but Saito and Kuro were something else entirely. It was as if the entire game had shifted into a different gear, with Karakura's offense becoming a well-oiled machine.

Saito's speed was breathtaking. He darted past defenders with ease, his legs pumping like pistons as he tore down the field. Time and time again, he found himself in a one-on-one with the goalie, and each time, the result was the same: the net rippled, the crowd erupted, and another goal was added to Kurakura's tally.

Kuro's performance was different but no less awe-inspiring. He was like a sentinel, standing firm in the middle of the field, his eyes scanning the entire pitch with a calm, calculating gaze.

He barely moved from his position, yet he was always where he needed to be, intercepting passes, blocking shots, and turning defense into offense with a precision that seemed almost supernatural. It was as if he had eyes all over the field, his foresight giving him an edge that left Aldera's players frustrated and helpless.

The synergy between Saito and Kuro was undeniable. Kuro would secure the ball with effortless grace, his movements measured and exact, before launching it in a perfect arc down the field.

Saito would be there to meet it, his speed carrying him past the last line of defense, and then—goal. It was a devastating combination, one that quickly turned the tide of the game. Honestly? It was spam.

By the time the final whistle blew, the score was 4-6 at the half, but Aldera couldn't regain their footing. Karakura's relentless offense continued, and by the end of the game, the scoreboard read 17-6. The match was over, and Karakura High's reign had continued. Long Live The Empire!

Himiko watched it all unfold, her golden eyes following every pass, every goal. But while the crowd around her erupted in cheers, she felt only a hollow ache deep in her chest.

She wasn't particularly interested in sports, nor did she care much for cheerleading—she was only here because her parents insisted. But seeing the praise and adulation showered upon Saito and Kuro, something dark and twisted began to coil inside her.

Jealousy.

It wasn't just the recognition they received, though that certainly stung. It was the way they seemed so effortlessly perfect like they were everything she was supposed to be but wasn't. As the crowd roared, the applause like thunder in her ears, she couldn't help but feel like she was staring at the embodiment of all her insecurities, all the expectations she could never seem to live up to.

It hurt. It hurt so much that she could hardly breathe.

She lowered her pom-poms, her hands trembling slightly as she tried to compose herself. But no matter how much she tried to push it down, that gnawing feeling wouldn't go away. It was a wound that festered beneath the surface, hidden behind a smile that no longer felt real.

As the players from both teams began to file off the field, Himiko's gaze lingered on Saito and Kuro, their triumphant faces beaming with pride. She wanted to look away, but she couldn't.

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[Auther: Yo. It's me, and I'm not dead. Anyways, this story is different, my writing is going to be more...emotional this time. Probably cause MHA is a teens wet hero dream.]