My Mangekyo Sharingan Can't Save My Hero Academia: 24 Clones And Sports Festivals 2

[TIME SKIP – ONE WEEK LATER]

A week passed faster than Yuta expected.

Between last-minute physical exams, gear checks, and the sudden wave of reporters crowding the gates, U.A. had turned into a madhouse.

Everyone was preparing for the same thing — the U.A. Sports Festival.

For the students, it was a chance to shine.

For Hero Course students, it was a showcase. A chance to be scouted by agencies, to prove they belonged at the top.

For Support Course students, it was a stage. A platform to advertise their inventions to the world.

For General Studies students, it was an opportunity. The only real shot they had at transferring into the Hero Course.

Yuta was no exception.

Sort of.

The truth was, he didn't care about being the number one hero. He didn't have Midoriya's burning drive to save everyone or Bakugo's obsessive need to surpass All Might. Heroes were fine. Admirable, even. But that wasn't what drove him.

What he wanted was simple: the license.

A Hero License meant freedom. It meant he could act whenever he needed to, step in wherever he saw fit, without worrying about legality or consequences. It meant control over his own actions in a world that otherwise restricted quirk usage at every turn.

Coming to a world where you couldn't use your powers freely felt like a scam.

He didn't need to be a hero. He just needed the paperwork that said he could be one.

Sure, he'd never considered himself particularly selfless. But there was a difference between having a license and not using it, and not having one at all. One was a choice. The other was a cage.

However, no goal was easy. Transferring to the hero course would require him to show enough potential to convince everyone he belonged there.

Even Shinso who got to the third round of the festival was only able to join due to Aizawa's pity.

And even then, he hadn’t replaced anyone. He’d been added.

In Yuta’s eyes, that said one thing: Shinso’s potential hadn’t been enough to force a trade.

If he wanted to make the jump, he couldn’t afford to be “almost enough.” He’d have to make it impossible for them not to promote him. The best way to do that? Become the champion by a landslide. After all, U.A couldn't possibly keep the champion of the Sports Festival in General Studies.

Could they?

__

The case Power Loader gave him sat neatly on his desk, plates and cloth folded with precision.He'd spent the last few days learning their weight and balance—and familiarizing himself with quirk usage and most importantly ... Reverse engineering Jutsu.

The Shadow Clone technique had opened a door.

Once he understood the flow of chakra through his system, the rest began to click into place. Transformation. Regular Clone Jutsu. And Elemental jutsu.

As for Substitution? Still no luck.

It seemed the principle behind it didn't go beyond replacing yourself with another object really fast before the moment of impact while using Transformation to make it look like you were hit.

Each one so far followed the same principle—molding energy into structure instead of brute-forcing it through instinct.

The difference now was control.

He’d learned to use his Sharingan as both a mirror and a manual. Watching every stream of chakra twist and redirect through his body let him correct mistakes before they happened. It wasn’t perfect, but it worked.

It also meant his recovery time had improved again. Training no longer left him wrecked. His body bounced back stronger, his movements sharper. His clones could train while he rested, compressing days of effort into hours. It was almost unfair.

If there was one thing he didn't like though, it was that the incident in the Support Lab had already made its rounds online somehow.

#ManholeKidReturns was trending again — mostly thanks a certain pink-haired inventor who had “accidentally” leaked a photo of him ducking her prototype.

He tried not to think about it.

Because now, all that noise — the attention, the speculation, the endless online jokes — didn’t matter.

The only thing that mattered was the arena.

__

[U.A. SPORTS FESTIVAL GROUNDS – MORNING]

The roar of the crowd was deafening.

Thousands of voices, banners waving, cameras flashing — it was nothing like the calm of the classroom or the quiet chaos of the Support Lab.

The stadium rose like a colosseum, packed wall-to-wall with spectators who'd traveled from across Japan just to witness this. Pro Heroes sat in reserved sections, agencies scouting for talent. News drones circled overhead, streaming live footage to millions more watching from home.

This wasn't just a school event.

This was national television.

[HINOHARA GENERAL HOSPITAL – ROOM 406]

Aiko Akutami sat upright in her hospital bed, laptop balanced on her legs, eyes fixed on the livestream.

The camera panned across the stadium, capturing the sheer scale of the crowd. Commentators hyped up the event with practiced enthusiasm, throwing out predictions and recapping last year's highlights.

Nurse Emi leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching over Aiko's shoulder.

"You nervous?" she asked.

Aiko snorted. "Nervous? Please. I'm terrified."

"He'll be fine."

"He better be." Aiko adjusted the screen. "After everything that's happened, if he embarrasses himself on national TV, I'm disowning him."

Emi laughed. "You don't mean that."

"I absolutely do."

The camera cut to the waiting rooms—briefly showing students from各 courses preparing in their respective sections. The commentators mentioned General Studies would be participating this year, something they glossed over quickly before moving back to the Hero Course hype.

[STADIUM FLOOR – ANNOUNCER'S BOOTH]

Present Mic's voice exploded through the speakers, shaking the very foundations of the stadium.

"GOOOOOD MORNING, U.A. SPORTS FESTIVAL!"

The crowd erupted.

"THAT'S RIGHT, FOLKS! IT'S THAT TIME OF YEAR AGAIN! THE EVENT THAT SEPARATES THE STRONG FROM THE WEAK! THE BRAVE FROM THE BORING! THE HEROES FROM THE—uh—NOT HEROES YET!"

Laughter rippled through the stands.

"We've got PRO HEROES in the house! AGENCIES scouting for the NEXT BIG THING! And of course, MILLIONS watching at home who definitely should've bought tickets but DIDN'T!"

More laughter.

"This year's lineup is STACKED! All Three course are going to be battling it out with everything they've got. So everyone. Are you ready?"

"Well it's time for the students to enter the first year stage."

"First up. The fledging heroes who've taken the spotlight. The miraculous newcomers who overcame enemy attacks with hearts of steel. Hero Course, Class 1-A."

The stadium shook with noise.

___

[CLASS 1-D]

The concrete hallway hummed with the vibrations of the crowd above. Every cheer, every chant, every stomp of excitement rolled through the walls like distant thunder.

General Studies students stood in their designated section, a cluster of matching tracksuits and restless energy. Some were stretching. Others were psyching themselves up. A few already looked like they regretted coming.

Yuta leaned against the wall, hands in his pockets, eyes half-lidded.

His support case leaned against the wall beside him.

Around him, his classmates were talking—nervous energy spilling out in bursts of conversation.

"This is it."

"We're actually here."

"Oh god. Is anyone else feeling nervous."

He could practically taste the anticipation in the air.

A loudspeaker crackled overhead.

“All first-year participants, prepare to enter the arena. Hero Course, please move to your designated starting positions.”

That was their cue.

Movement rippled through the hall. Students shuffled into formation.

A boy from Class 1-D swallowed hard.

“D-Damn, I can’t believe we’re actually doing this…”

Another nudged him. “Relax, it’s just for fun. No one expects us to beat the Hero Course.”

Yuta almost chuckled.

'Speak for yourself.'

He adjusted the support case strapped across his back, feeling the familiar weight settle between his shoulders.

Everything he had prepared for was on the other side of that gate.

The roar of the stadium grew louder as the massive steel doors began to open — bright sunlight spilling into the tunnel.

Everyone around him tensed.

Yuta exhaled slowly, letting his heartbeat fall into rhythm.

This is it.

___

[U.A. SPORTS FESTIVAL – ARENA]

"NEXT UP. GENERAL STUDIES C, D AND E."

"NEXT. SUPPORT COURSE. F, G AND H."

"LASTLY. BUSINESS COURSE. I, J AND K."

The sound hit him first.

A wall of noise — cheering, clapping, fireworks bursting overhead — slammed into him the moment the students stepped out onto the field. The stadium was a sea of color, faces blurring together in a massive mosaic of excitement.

Hundreds of cameras swiveled toward them.

Below the VIP stands, reporters angled microphones, whispering commentary as if narrating a battlefield.

Yuta squinted slightly against the sun.

The Hero Course students walked confidently at the front, spotlight practically glued to them. Midoriya. Bakugo. Todoroki. Each one already famous in one way or another.

General Studies followed in behind.

Once everyone gathered, Midnight strutted onto the platform in full glory, microphone raised. As usual, she knew how to work a crowd.

“WELCOME, EVERYONE—TO THE U.A. FIRST-YEAR SPORTS FESTIVAAAAAL!”

The stadium erupted again.

In the commentator box, Aizawa stood off to the side, wrapped in layered bandages, eyes half open in perpetual exhaustion.

"Quiet Everyone."

Midnight declared. "Representing the students, we have Katsuki Bakugo, from Class 1-A for the student pledge."

From here, Yuta could see Class 1-A's panicked reactions as Bakugo marched forward with all the grace of a lit fuse.

The crowd quieted into a tense silence.

Cameras zoomed in.

He grabbed the mic, leaned forward, and—

"I pledge ... To win."

Silence.

Then a beat.

"That's it."

The stadium erupted into chaos. Half the crowd booed. The other half laughed.

Midnight blinked. "Um—Bakugo, that's not exactly—"

"I said what I said." He turned and walked off the stage without waiting for permission. "At least become a soft, bouncy step to jump off." The combined classes had fallen into outrage.

Iida shot forward in the Class 1-A section, arms chopping violently. "BAKUGO! THAT WAS HIGHLY INAPPROPRIATE! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO REPRESENT—"

"Shut up, Four-Eyes!"

Upstairs, Aizawa sighed into his scarf. "…Why do I even bother."

Present Mic's voice crackled over the speakers, barely containing his laughter. "WELL! THAT WAS… SOMETHING! Bold strategy from the Class 1-A representative! Let's see if he can back it up!"

In the General Studies section, Kimura muttered, "…Did he just declare war on everyone?"

"Pretty much," Hana said flatly.

Tanaka adjusted his glasses. "Tactically inadvisable. He's made himself a target."

Yuta didn't react.

To say he had expected anything less would be an understatement.

Midnight cleared her throat, regaining control of the stage. "Right. Well then. Enough pledging and posturing! Let's get to what you're all here for—THE FIRST ROUND!"

The massive screens around the stadium lit up, displaying a rotating roulette of possible events.

The crowd leaned forward.

"The first game is what you'd call a qualifier. Every year, many drinks their tears here."

The wheel spun.

Spun.

Stopped.

"The first round is .."

OBSTACLE RACE

"This."

"All 11 classes will participate in this race. The course will be the circumference of this stadium. 4 kilometers."

"Our school's selling point is freedom. Which means ..." She licked her lips sadistically.

"As long as you stay within the course, it doesn't matter what you do. Now ... Take your places everyone."

Students began moving toward the starting gate in a steady current, Hero Course taking the lead, Support and General Studies folding into the mass behind them.

The large metal shutters along the stadium wall opened with a heavy clank, revealing a wide tunnel that led out toward the perimeter track.

“YOU'VE HEARD IT KIDS. ANYTHING GOES! RUN, FIGHT, EVADE, OUTMANEUVER! JUST MAKE IT TO THE FINISH! If you get knocked off the track—WELP! Better luck next year!”

“Four kilometers… seriously?”

“What kind of obstacles—”

“Hey, don’t get crushed in the first five seconds—”

It seemed the nervous energy had peaked.

Behind him, Hana whispered with barely concealed nervousness.

“Yuta, you nervous?”

He shook his head once.

“Not really.”

“What do you think your chances are?”

Yuta rolled his shoulders, tightening his grip on the support case.

“High enough.” Three green lights came up. The first went dark, then the second ... Until finally. The last one died.

"Go."

Midnight ordered. The gate exploded open. The race began with a thunderous roar as hundreds of students surged into the narrow pathway.

The moment they did, Yuta disappeared.

"Alright Mummy man," Present Mic said, leaning into his mic.

"Don't call me that."  The flat voice replied.

Mic ignored him. "The race is off! What should we pay attention to in the early stages?"

Aizawa didn't look away from the monitors.

"The door."

"The door?" Mic repeated. "That's it?"

"It's narrow. Whoever controls the exit controls the pace."

Below, chaos erupted immediately.

The tunnel was packed shoulder-to-shoulder. Students jostled, shoved, and scrambled for position. Quirks flared in desperate bursts—flames, hardening skin, someone's hair whipping wildly.

"Dammit—move!"

"I can't—there's no room!"

"Stop pushing!"

"Who designed this -"

Near the front, Todoroki raised his right hand.

Ice exploded outward in a massive wave, coating the walls, the floor, and dozens of students in frozen crystal. The entire tunnel crystallized in seconds.

Students screamed.

Some were caught mid-step, frozen solid. Others slipped and crashed into the walls. A few managed to break free, smashing through the ice with hardened fists or heat-based quirks.

Todoroki ran forward calmly, unbothered, already pulling ahead.

Behind him, Bakugo blasted through the ice with raw explosions, propelling himself forward.

Yaoyorozu created a staff and vaulted over the frozen students.

Iida's engines roared to life, skating across the ice with practiced precision.

"NICE MOVE BY TODOROKI!" Present Mic roared. "Ice everywhere! Half the field's frozen solid!"

'The first sifting.' Aizawa thought. 'However ..' His thoughts had barely formed when they were proven right.

Bakugo's figure blasted out of the path.

"Get back here you Half and Half bastard!"

"Naive Todoroki." Yaoyorozu yelled. "It's going to take far more than that to trap us."

The smarter ones—Kaminari, Jirō, Kirishima—jumped or avoided it by inches.

Support Course kids scrambled and clung to the walls.

General Studies panicked outright.

“HE CAN DO THAT?!”

'I see. More outside class 1A managed to escape the ice than I anticipated.'

Aizawa's eyes narrowed. "He's not trying to win yet. He's thinning the herd."

The students who broke through the ice emerged into open air—and immediately stopped.

Very surprised when a shadow fell over them.

BANG!

A massive metal limb slammed into the ground.

“Wait—ARE THOSE—”

“THE ENTRANCE EXAM ROBOTS?!”

Standing before them, towering and mechanical, were the Faux Villains from the entrance exam.

Zero-pointers.

Dozens of them.

Their red sensors locked onto the incoming students.

"You're kidding me—"

"THOSE THINGS AGAIN?!"

Those who had taken the entrance exams immediately recognized it.

Present Mic cackled as the cameras zoomed in. "AND HERE WE ARE, FOLKS! THE FIRST OBSTACLE—THE EXAM BOT GAUNTLET!"

Todoroki's eyes narrowed.

'So ... This is what they used in the general entrance exams, huh?'

Present Mic gestured dramatically.

“ROBO INFERNO.”

"Dammit. Where do they even get the money for these things?"

"You're thinking about money? How are we going to get past these things? There's more than a dozen of em."

"So Mummy man." Mic grinned from ear to ear. "What do you think?"

"It'll be a challenge for some." Aizawa nodded. "For others. Not so much."

"HUH? INTERESTING. WELL LET'S JUST WAIT AND SEE IF YOUR ..."

Present Mic's voice suddenly ceased to exist.

“HOLD ON—WHAT?!”

The feed cut from the robots to a different camera—one positioned farther along the course.

Then farther.

Then farther.

Finally it locked onto a single figure sprinting along the outer track, already well beyond the robot zone.

A single boy.

Way out in front.

The stadium erupted into chaos.

Present Mic nearly fell out of his seat. “HOW DID HE GET PAST THE BOT ZONE?! THE RACE JUST STARTED!”

The camera zoomed in.

Red hair. General Studies tracksuit. Support case strapped to his back.

Aizawa's eyes narrowed.

"Who the hell is that?"

On the field, Todoroki froze mid-stride.

“…What?”

Bakugo whipped his head toward the giant screens, fury crackling. “Hah?! Who the hell—” In the Teachers section, All Might was stunned.

By his die, Power Loaders expression changed.

"What the ..."

"I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Present Mic's voice echoed across the stadium. "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, IT SEEMS WE HAVE AN UNEXPECTED ANOMALY! CURRENTLY IN FIRST PLACE IS NOT SOMEONE FROM THE HERO COURSE, BUT... SOMEONE FROM... GENERAL STUDIES?! HOW IN THE HELL DID HE EVEN GET THERE?!"

---

[COUNTRYWIDE FEEDS – VARIOUS LOCATIONS]

The broadcast spread everywhere.

Hinohara Hospital – Aiko shot upright so fast her laptop almost slid off her knees.

“…That’s my boy.”

Her eyes sparkled like she’d just won the lottery.

Nurse Emi blinked. “Is—Is he supposed to be that fast?”

“Not at all,” Aiko whispered, beaming. “Fantastic.”

Musutafu Shopping District – crowds stared up at the giant screens, murmuring.

__

Hosu City – Alleyway

A hooded figure leaned against a lamppost, watching the broadcast on a flickering street monitor.

White hair tucked under the hood.

Sharp blue eyes reflecting the sprinting figure on screen. The lower half of his face was covered in a mask, and half a scar ran across his left eye.

If another Transmigrator existed in this universe, they would recognise this man as Hatake Kakashi of the Hidden leaf.

“Hm. I guess I would’ve done the same thing in his ..  or .. My shoes.”

Watching for a few seconds longer, he pushed off the lamppost and slipped into the crowd, hood dipping low. "Alright then. The original is being a badass. Time for me to get to work."

He quickly disappeared into the streets of Hosu.

There was work to do, and he wasn’t about to waste another second.