My Hero Academia: Complete Victory

The "Auther" thing I do at the end of each chapter or so, is a joke to my OG account. Or, is this account the one with the "Auther" thing? I can't tell...

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Endeavor sat in his dimly lit room, his thoughts spiraling deeper into the realization that had been gnawing at him since the meeting with Tsukauchi, Principal Nezu, and All Might.

The puzzle pieces had finally fallen into place, each revelation sharper than the last. All Might had a successor—and it wasn't who everyone had assumed. Kurokami Tenshin.

For years, Endeavor had chased the title of Number One, driven by his singular obsession to surpass All Might. He'd thrown everything into that goal, molding his children into tools to achieve what he couldn't.

Shoto, his masterpiece, had been the chosen one to bring him that victory. And even though he'd failed with Toya, Shoto was supposed to embody everything he'd learned. But now, staring into the darkness of his study, Endeavor could no longer deny it—Shoto would never surpass All Might.

It was never Shoto.

Kurokami Tenshin—the boy who had faced him repeatedly in the last few weeks, who pushed himself beyond any reasonable limit for the sake of others1—was stronger, faster, and more unyielding than any student Endeavor had seen. He had never stopped getting up, even when the battle was lost. That sheer willpower... that endless drive... it was unmistakable. The same indomitable spirit that defined All Might.

Endeavor clenched his fists, his thoughts a mixture of frustration, jealousy, and a bitter sense of resignation. All Might had chosen Kurokami—quietly, secretly. Why hadn't he seen it sooner?

At first, he'd thought Izuku Midoriya was All Might's successor. The boy had a certain determination and strength that felt familiar, but it was nothing compared to Kurokami. Izuku was a decent fighter, sure, but he didn't have the same raw, overwhelming presence that Kurokami exuded during battle.

Kurokami was different.

As Endeavor thought more about it, the signs were so clear. Kurokami was advanced, even for his age. His quirk, while unique, wasn't the most versatile, yet the way he used it—the control, the precision, the raw power—mirrored how All Might dominated the battlefield in his younger days. That relentless positivity and drive to protect others while still pushing himself harder than anyone else... had to come from All Might's influence.

A dark suspicion began to fester in Endeavor's mind. Could Kurokami be All Might's son? The thought seemed absurd at first, but it nagged at him. The resemblance wasn't physical—their hair, eyes, and stature didn't match. But the smile... that damn smile and the unbreakable will... it was all too familiar.

Endeavor rubbed his temples in frustration. It didn't matter if Kurokami was All Might's biological son or not. The boy was being groomed for the Number One spot, the position Endeavor had long coveted.

All Might had cheated. He had handpicked his successor in secret, training him behind the scenes while the world thought the title of Number One would be earned through merit. Instead, All Might had decided who would carry on his legacy.

Kurokami Tenshin was the next All Might.

The more he thought about it, the more it felt like a cruel joke. Shoto—his own flesh and blood—had never stood a chance. Everything Endeavor had worked for, every ounce of sweat, pain, and sacrifice, had been for nothing. All Might had rigged the game from the start.

But as Endeavor sat there, something else started gnawing at him, an idea he hadn't considered before. If Kurokami was All Might's chosen successor, and Shoto couldn't surpass All Might... maybe Kurokami could.

Maybe—just maybe—there was a way for him to achieve his goal, not through Shoto, but by guiding Kurokami himself. If Kurokami could surpass All Might, then Endeavor's legacy wouldn't be wasted. He could still play a role in shaping the next Number One.

But how? How could he convince Kurokami to accept him as a mentor? Kuro already respected All Might. The boy had made that clear through his actions and his relentless drive to help others. Endeavor had beaten Kuro down physically, yet the boy had never shown any true resentment. There was a strange respect there, but it wasn't enough.

Endeavor knew he couldn't win Kurokami over by force. The boy didn't respond to fear or intimidation the way most did. He thrived on challenge and camaraderie—two things Endeavor wasn't used to offering. He would have to approach this carefully.

Endeavor stood up, staring out the window at the vast town below, the flickering lights reminding him of all the years he'd spent chasing after the Number One spot. If he couldn't surpass All Might directly, then maybe he could surpass him through Kurokami.

For the first time in years, Endeavor felt something other than anger or frustration. It wasn't hope—it was too early for that—but it was a plan. One that might work.

He would have to approach Kurokami, not as a rival, but as an ally. He would offer the boy something All Might couldn't—the chance to be stronger than even the Symbol of Peace.

And in return, maybe, just maybe, Endeavor could finally find the victory he had always craved.1

...

A few days later, in the lively atmosphere of Class 1-A, chaos was as routine as breathing. Aizawa was predictably curled up in his sleeping bag at the front of the room, snoring softly. Meanwhile, the center of the class had turned into a battleground—but not the kind they were used to.

Super Smash Bros. was the game of choice, and Bakugo and Uraraka were locked in a fierce match. Ironically, Bakugo, known for his explosive temper, was playing as Kirby, while Uraraka opted for Mario. The tension was thick as their characters dashed across the screen, hurling attacks at each other.

With the final blow, Kirby sent Mario flying off the stage. Bakugo leaped up with a victory roar, arms triumphantly raised. Uraraka, defeated, slumped in her seat, pouting as the screen displayed her defeat.

"Pay up," Bakugo growled, smirking down at her.

Uraraka sighed in defeat, muttering, "I accept... forever being called Kirby." The nickname, which Bakugo had bestowed upon her weeks ago, now seemed more official than ever.

Denki Kaminari, sitting nearby, chimed in. "Hey, it's not that bad. I mean, Bakugo made me accept being Pikachu, so... it could be worse." He tried to sound reassuring but only succeeded in making Uraraka roll her eyes.

Eijiro Kirishima, who had been watching the entire exchange with a mix of amusement and confusion, turned to Kuro, who was casually sitting nearby. "What is this even for? Why's Bakugo so invested in everyone accepting these nicknames?"

Kuro, with his signature grin, answered casually, "Bakugo wanted everyone to recognize his superiority, so he beat us all using the same character. It's a weird flex, but hey, it's Bakugo."

Kirishima sighed in relief, brushing a hand through his spiky red hair. "Well, thank God my nickname is just 'Sh*tty Hair.' Could be worse."

As if on cue, the school bell rang, cutting through the playful atmosphere. Izuku Midoriya, who had been lost in his thoughts at his desk, moved to open the classroom door—and standing there, crowding the entrance, was a group of students from other classes. It was an intimidating sight, especially given how some of them glared at 1-A.

Bakugo spotted the crowd instantly and, with his usual subtlety, shoved Kuro toward the door. "You deal with them, President," Bakugo grunted, eyes gleaming with excitement at what he knew was coming.

Kuro, although confused, lit up with excitement as he found himself pushed toward the awaiting crowd. "A challenge?!" he exclaimed eagerly, practically bouncing on his heels. He loved the idea of a fight, even if it wasn't what Bakugo had in mind.

While Kuro was pushed into the sea of students, Bakugo dragged a bewildered Izuku to the side. "Listen up, Deku," Bakugo muttered in his usual harsh tone. "All these extras outside? I'll handle them. You just stand back and don't get in the way."

Izuku blinked, utterly lost. "Wait, what? What do you mean by 'handle them'?"

As Izuku struggled to understand what was going on, Kuro, now at the door and face-to-face with the crowd of students, flashed a wide smile. "So... does everyone want to fight me?" he asked, half-joking, but the students outside didn't seem to appreciate his enthusiasm.

Meanwhile, Tenya Iida, ever the class disciplinarian, sighed as he pieced together what was happening. He calmly walked over and shut the door on the growing crowd outside, knowing full well what was about to unfold. "Class 1-A isn't exactly popular right now."

Iida explained, turning to Izuku, who still looked confused. "Because we've been performing well, some students from other classes don't like us. Last week, when we requested to use one of the gyms for training, we were stopped by a large group of students."

Momo Yaoyorozu stepped in, finishing the explanation. "So, naturally, we sent our Class President—Kuro—to handle it." She smiled as if that was the most reasonable solution in the world.

Izuku's eyes widened. "Kuro handled them? What did he do?"

Momo smiled politely. "He convinced them all. With virtue."1

Izuku, still not fully comprehending, furrowed his brow. "What do you mean by 'virtue'?"

At that moment, the door opened, and Kuro stepped back in, looking immensely pleased with himself. "All done!" he announced cheerfully.

Izuku was about to ask what exactly Kuro had done when Bakugo stopped him with a sharp glare, grabbing Kuro by the collar and dragging him back outside. "Deku, you really don't want to know."

"But—!" Izuku tried to protest, but Ochaco Uraraka tugged on his arm, smiling innocently.

"Trust me, Deku," Uraraka said softly. "You don't need to know." She winked at him, pulling him away from the door.

As Izuku reluctantly followed, wondering what kind of "virtue" Kuro could have possibly used, the rest of the class continued to go about their day, blissfully ignoring the chaos that seemed to follow their Class President wherever he went.

...

In the waiting room of Class 1-A, Kuro hovered gently above the ground, spinning slowly in the air as he practiced his refined control over his "Ki."

His training with Endeavor had paid off, and his newfound skill in levitation was becoming second nature. Bakugo, standing nearby, was stretching out his arms, preparing for the upcoming matches.

Breaking the silence, Bakugo spoke, his voice full of intensity. "Oi, Kuro. The finals... will be between the two of us."

Kuro paused mid-spin, looking down at Bakugo with a smirk. "You sure about that, Bakugo? I've gotten crazy strong lately. Even you might not be a match for me."

Bakugo smirked in response, cracking his knuckles. "If you didn't get stronger, it'd be too easy for me. But you know what? I'm still gonna wipe the floor with you."

Then, Bakugo's gaze darkened, and his tone shifted as he added, "Before that, though... I'm gonna kill Deku this match."

Kuro raised an eyebrow but, understanding Bakugo's use of the word "kill" as "defeat," didn't react with alarm. Instead, he asked casually, "Will you still be friends with Izuku after that?"

Bakugo scoffed, his usual fire barely contained. "I doubt it. There's no going back to how things were."

Kuro floated down to the ground, facing Bakugo. His expression softened as he asked, "And do you think that'll be enough to make you happy? Beating Deku when he still isn't good with his quirk?"

For a moment, Bakugo's face showed a flicker of frustration. He gritted his teeth, conflicted. "No. It won't be enough," he admitted after a pause. "But it'll be close."

Kuro smiled a hint of sadness in his eyes. "I'll be waiting for the day when it's finally enough."

Unbeknownst to the two, Izuku Midoriya stood outside the waiting room, having approached just in time to overhear their conversation. His hand froze on the door handle, heart pounding in his chest as their words echoed in his mind.

Hearing Bakugo's determination and Kuro's calm encouragement hit him harder than any physical blow.

Beating me won't make him happy... but it'll be close.

Izuku stepped back slowly, his mind racing. It all made sense now. This was what Kacchan wanted — not just to prove he was better, but to see Izuku fight back, to be strong enough to stand as his equal. If he couldn't rise to the challenge, nothing would ever change between them.

Izuku clenched his fists, the weight of the Sports Festival now heavier than ever. To make things right with Kacchan... I just need to win.

It wasn't just about victory anymore. He had to prove that he was worthy. Worthy to stand beside Kacchan. Worthy of the quirk that had been entrusted to him. And most of all, worthy of being a hero in his own right.

His resolve solidified, and without entering the room, Izuku turned and walked away, determination etched on his face. There was no room for fear or hesitation now. The Sports Festival wasn't just about showing his strength — it was about proving, once and for all, that he could meet Bakugo head-on.

The battle wasn't just for the top spot. It was about their future. Win or Save P.3???

...

As Bakugo left the room after changing, he called back to Kuro, "Lock up after me, idiot. I'm not babysitting you."

Kuro, who was busy floating a few feet off the ground, barely registered Bakugo's words. "Yeah, yeah," he mumbled absentmindedly, more focused on mastering his flight than on locking the door.

The clock hit 11:56 AM — only four minutes until the start of the Sports Festival. Kuro continued practicing, hovering down the hallway in slow, controlled motions, testing the limits of his "Ki" as he floated in a semi-dreamlike state.

As Kuro absentmindedly floated down the hallway, lost in thought about his training, his focus was broken when he almost bumped into Shoto Todoroki. Shoto, always composed but with a hint of exasperation, looked at him and asked, "How did anyone see you as responsible enough to be President?"

Kuro blinked, hovering slightly above the ground. "Huh? Oh, yeah. I guess I'm just... good at talking," he replied with a light shrug.

Shoto shook his head, clearly unconvinced but deciding to let it go. He paused for a moment before speaking again. "Why did you help me?" he asked, his tone more serious. "By giving me my freedom... from Endeavor."

Kuro scratched his head, trying to remember. "Oh, that. Well, I just made a bet with him. Luckily, I won."

Shoto raised an eyebrow, his mind racing with thoughts. All the pain, all the years of suffering... undone because one guy decided to try his luck. He sighed, his inner turmoil somewhat eased by the ridiculousness of Kuro's explanation. "Talk about decisive action," he muttered, more to himself than Kuro. "Maybe... maybe I should bring Mom home soon."

There was a brief pause as Shoto gathered his thoughts. He then handed Kuro a lunchbox, the action surprising Kuro. "Here. I... thought long and hard about how to thank you, but nothing felt like enough," Shoto said, his expression sincere. "So instead... Fuyumi and I — mostly Fuyumi — made this for you. It's just a bunch of chocolates with mango. Apparently, that's your favorite."

Kuro's face lit up. "Chocolates and mangoes? Thanks, Shoto!" he said, attempting a polite bow, though it came off a bit awkward.

Shoto, slightly embarrassed but relieved, nodded. "You're the one who deserves thanks. What you did… I owe you my life."

Kuro, in his typical bluntness, replied, "I don't want your life, though."

Shoto caught off guard, and stared at him for a moment, a mix of shock and offense flashing across his face. But then, he let out a genuine laugh — something that seemed to surprise even him. "I guess you wouldn't," he chuckled. "Would a fight be better?"

Kuro's eyes brightened. "Definitely."

Shoto smirked, his competitive edge coming through. "Good. Because I'll be coming for that No.1 spot in the Sports Festival."

Kuro grinned, his spirit rekindled. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

As Shoto turned to leave, Kuro stood there for a moment, watching him walk away. He absentmindedly patted the lunchbox now tucked into his hero costume, thinking back to the last time he had chocolates and mangoes. Karakura Junior High... The memory was hazy, a piece of his past that seemed so distant now.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Kuro got himself back in the moment. Enough of that. He floated back down to the ground, ready to focus. He had a festival to win, and nothing was going to stop him.

With the clock now reading 11:59 AM, Kuro made his way toward the arena, his mind locked on the upcoming competition.

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[Auther: Yo, been awhile since I did these afterthoughts. The next arc with the Sports Festival finna be long.]