# Chapter 11: The Race Against Myself
The air in the 1-A waiting room was so thick with tension you could have tasted it—metallic, like a battery on the tongue. I sat on a low wooden bench, my spine pressed against the cool wall, eyes clamped shut. Internally, it was chaos. My "adult" brain was trying to organize my thoughts into neat files, but the elemental shards were acting like rowdy roommates during a blackout.
I wasn't fully "trained." Let's be real. The week at the estate had been a crash course, not a mastery. I had learned how to crack the door to "Hybrid Mode," but I was still fumbling for the handle. Every time I tried to pull an element into my main body without a full split, it felt like my nervous system was being rewired with rusty copper. It worked, but the feedback was a jagged, throbbing migraine.
"Arisawa."
I opened one eye. Todoroki stood there. The frost was already creeping up the right side of his gym uniform, turning the fabric brittle and white. He'd made his declaration to Midoriya, but now he was looking at me—the guy the news called the "Human Sun."
"The USJ was a fluke of environment," he said, his voice as flat as a sheet of ice. "This is a race of skill. I'm going to show you that a single, perfected flame is better than a dozen flickering sparks."
The "adult" in me wanted to give him a lecture on how light and heat are actually part of the same electromagnetic spectrum, but the "Kenji" side just felt a spark of pure, teenage spite. I stood up, the lightning in my veins humming a low, dangerous rhythm.
"Try not to slip on your own ice, Todoroki. It'd be embarrassing to lose to a 'flicker.'"
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"MAKE SOME NOISE, UA!" Present Mic's voice exploded through the stadium speakers, the vibration rattling my very molars.
As Class Rep, I led 1-A out of the dark tunnel. The roar of 50,000 people hit me like a physical wall of heat and noise. I squinted against the blinding midday sun and immediately spotted the Arisawa VIP box. My father was leaning so far over the railing I thought he'd fall, holding a neon-glowing sign that read: "THAT'S MY SON! THE ONE NOT WEARING GLASSES!"
I buried my face in my hand. "I am legally disowning him the moment I cross the finish line."
"He seems... enthusiastic," Momo whispered beside me. She was pale, her fingers twitching—a sign she was already calculating molecular structures for whatever she needed to create.
"He's a menace," I muttered, but I straightened my shoulders. I was the Class Rep. I had a reputation to uphold, even if my dad was currently trying to start a "Kenji" chant in the VIP section.
"START!!!"
The buzzer hadn't even finished its roar when I moved. I didn't split. Not yet. Splitting was for emergencies; the **Lightning-Original** was built for pure, unadulterated speed.
I became a jagged streak of white-blue light. While the rest of the class was getting caught in the claustrophobic mosh pit of the tunnel, I used a Flash-Step. It wasn't perfected—it felt like my shins were being hit with sledgehammers every time I planted a foot—but I was a blur. I burst out of the tunnel into the open arena a full three seconds ahead of the pack.
Then, the temperature plummeted.
CRACK-BOOM!
Todoroki's ice surged forward like a glacier on steroids, encasing the feet of half the class and freezing the massive 0-Pointer robots in place. I was already past the first wave, but I looked back. I saw Momo, Mina, and Jiro—they were about to be cut off by the leaning tower of a frozen robot that was starting to tilt dangerously.
"Damn it," I hissed. My "adult" brain said 'Keep running, take the win.'My "hero" brain said 'They're going to get crushed.'
"Split!"
I didn't go for a full five-way. I didn't have the mental bandwidth for that much sensory input. I "popped" two: Water and Earth.
Earth-kenji manifested right in the path of the falling debris. He grew to his maximum seven-foot height, his stone shoulders catching a falling piece of metal that must have weighed ten tons. He groaned, the sound of grinding tectonic plates. "MOVE!" he bellowed at the girls.
Water-kenji didn't wait. He acted as a high-pressure lubricant, coating the frozen ground in a slick, conductive film that allowed the girls to slide past the bottleneck like they were on a frictionless water park ride.
The cost was immediate. My head throbbed. I—the Lightning -Original —stumbled, my sparks turning a dull, flickering yellow as my processing power was divided three ways. I felt the wetness of the water shard and the heaviness of the earth shard as if they were my own limbs.
Todoroki passed me. He didn't even look back, his eyes fixed on the path ahead.
"Merge!" I gasped, pulling the shards back in. The influx of sensory data made me dizzy—I suddenly had memories of holding up a robot and sliding on ice hitting me at once. I was back in one body, but I was "lagging." My left arm felt suspiciously "squishy" and liquid-like because the water element hadn't fully retracted into my DNA yet.
I reached the "Fall"—the deep canyon with the tightropes. Todoroki was sliding across on ice. Bakugo was exploding through the air like a guided missile.
I didn't have the energy to split again. I had to try the "Flash." I focused everything on my feet, trying to pull just the Wind element into my soles without letting it take over my consciousness.
Fwoosh!
It worked, but it was ugly. I didn't just jump; I launched like a malfunctioning bottle rocket. I overshot the rope, flailing in mid-air.
"Crap, crap, crap!"
I "flashed" Water from my palms, using the recoil of a high-pressure blast to correct my flight path. I landed on the other side in a messy roll, my boots sparking against the dirt.
"Look at Arisawa!" Present Mic screamed. "He's a one-man circus! He's sparking! He's splashing! He's flying! Is he okay? Does someone need to call a plumber or an electrician?!"
I hit the minefield in third place. Todoroki and Bakugo were in a literal fistfight for the lead, neither wanting to give an inch.
"Enough of this," I muttered. My "adult" brain took over, calculating the distances and the density of the pink powder in the dirt. I couldn't use pure Lightning—the mines would catch my trail. I couldn't use Wind—the air pressure would set them off.
I had to use Conductivity.
I stopped running. I knelt down and slammed my hand into the dirt. I "flashed" Water just deep enough into the soil to create a damp, conductive vein leading straight under Todoroki and Bakugo's feet.
ZAP.
I sent a low-voltage pulse through the damp earth. It didn't hurt them, but it fooled the sensors in the mines. Every mine within five feet of them triggered simultaneously.
BOOM!
A wall of pink smoke erupted, blinding the two leaders. In that split second, I used the last of my juice. I didn't run on the ground; I used Wind to hover half an inch above the dirt and Lightning to propel myself forward like a maglev train. I blurred past the smoke, my body a flickering mess of white sparks, steam, and dripping water.
I crossed the finish line first.
I didn't stop gracefully. I tumbled, rolling across the dirt until I hit the padded wall at the end of the track with a dull thud. I stayed there, face-down, as the "Sync-Hangover" hit me like a sledgehammer. My brain felt like it was being scrubbed with steel wool.
"AND THE WINNER IS... ARISAWA KENJI!"
I pushed myself up to my knees, panting. I was a disaster. One of my eyes was glowing a faint, electric white, while the other was a deep, watery blue. My breath was coming out as thick, hot steam. My right leg felt like it was made of solid granite and wouldn't bend at the knee.
Midnight walked over to me, her whip cracking in excitement. Her eyes were wide—she'd clearly never seen a student "glitch" like this. "What a performance! Arisawa-kun, you really gave the crowd a show!"
She reached out to pat my shoulder. The second her hand touched my uniform, the leftover static electricity in my fibers sought a ground.
SNAP!
A massive blue arc jumped between us. Midnight's hair poofed out into a giant, frizzy cloud, her mask slightly askew. She froze, looking stunned.
"S-sorry," I croaked. My voice sounded weird—layered, as if three people were whispering the same word at once. "I'm... still... recalibrating."
I looked up at the scoreboard.
1. Arisawa Kenji
2. Todoroki Shoto
3. Bakugo Katsuki
The stadium was screaming my name, a wall of sound that made my head throb. But all the noise faded when Midnight pointed her whip at me for the cameras, her frizzy hair still smoking slightly.
"For the next event, the first-place winner will be worth... TEN MILLION POINTS!"
The entire field of students turned. A hundred pairs of eyes locked onto me with the hunger of a pack of starving wolves.
I looked at my hand—it was still slightly translucent, water dripping steadily from my fingertips onto the track. "Oh," I whispered to the 'adult' in my head. "We are so screwed."