The booming voice of Present Mic split the stadium air, followed by the roar of tens of thousands of spectators that shook the stands. In the middle of the vast grassy field, Midnight stood with her signature theatrical flair, swinging her whip through the air. The giant screen behind her spun like a slot machine before finally stopping on a large, brightly flashing text.
"The second round of this year's U.A. Sports Festival is... the Cavalry Battle!" shouted Midnight, her voice echoing throughout the entire stadium.
Nabiel, standing at the back of the Class 1-A crowd, let out a long sigh until his shoulders, covered by an oversized white shirt, slumped down. The dangling sleeves of his shirt swayed gently, covering the bandages on his arm. As an Outer Observer, he knew the narrative structure all too well. The second tournament round was always designed to force the characters to interact, form alliances, and of course, create drama through betrayal.
Midnight began explaining the rules. Teams consisting of two to four people. Points accumulated from the first round. And of course, the headbands with points that had to be tied around the rider's head. A very troublesome game of survival and theft.
"You have fifteen minutes to form your teams! Starting now!" called Midnight.
Instantly, the field turned into a sea of chaos. The students began running around, shouting at each other as they searched for teammates with complementary Quirks. Amid the panicked commotion, Nabiel simply stood still, his dark black eyes staring blankly ahead. He had already thought of the most efficient strategy for this round: one that required zero percent physical effort from him.
However, before he could step toward his target, a shadow covered the light from above.
Yaoyorozu Momo stood in front of him. Her posture was straight, her aura radiating the confidence of a recommended student, yet her eyes shone with a protective gentleness that she only showed to one person.
"Team up with me, Nabiel," said Momo without preamble. Her tone was not a request, but a statement of fact. "With my Creation, I can make any defensive equipment. I can guarantee our victory, and most importantly... your safety."
Momo's eyes briefly glanced at Nabiel's oversized shirt sleeve, fully aware of the severe burn hidden beneath the fabric. The girl was still haunted by the USJ incident, and her first instinct in this round involving physical contact was to hide Nabiel behind her shield.
Hearing the offer, Nabiel turned to Momo. He gave a small smile, the typical lazy smile of someone who knew full well that his best friend's good intentions would actually drag him into the center of the main conflict. Being on Momo's team meant being on the front lines.
"Sorry, Momo," replied Nabiel casually, his voice sounding slightly hoarse but calm. "But I already have another team."
Momo blinked, slightly surprised. "Eh? You already...?"
At that exact moment, the sound of footsteps came from behind Nabiel. Three figures emerged from the crowd, standing behind the Observer like very unusual guards.
A tall, large young man with six webbed arms, Shoji Mezo. Beside him, a girl with dark green hair, slightly hunched posture, and a short protruding tongue, Asui Tsuyu. And below the two of them, stood a very small young man with hair resembling purple grape clusters, Mineta Minoru.
Nabiel had just assembled a team consisting of Shoji, Asui, and Mineta. In Nabiel's eyes, this was the absolute formation for the "hide and do nothing" tactic. Shoji as the fortress, Asui as mobility and unexpected long-range attacker, and Mineta as the landmine.
"Yaoyorozu-chan~"
A high-pitched, trembling voice broke the silence. Mineta stepped forward, puffing out his small chest while staring at Momo with an extremely annoying gaze.
"Why are you so attentive to Nabiel-kun anyway?" said Mineta in a fake whining tone, while stroking his own chin. "From any point of view, I'm far more handsome and manly than him. If you want protection, you should beg me instead!"
The temperature around Momo seemed to drop several degrees. The expression on the black-haired girl's face changed drastically in seconds. Her motherly and protective look vanished, replaced by a gaze as cold as ice that could freeze the ocean. She stared at Mineta as if the short young man was an insect that had just crawled out of the trash.
"In your dreams," hissed Momo, her voice sharp and filled with undisguised disgust.
Mineta immediately flinched backward, hiding behind Shoji's leg while muttering in fear.
Momo took a deep breath, calming herself. When she looked back at Nabiel, the cold expression melted away, replaced by a much gentler gaze. There was a hint of pride in her eyes. Nabiel, the lazy one who usually just slept and avoided all forms of social interaction, had now taken the initiative to form his own team. For Momo, it was a positive character development.
"Alright," said Momo with a faint smile. "I'm glad you're contributing to another team and forming one with your own desire."
Momo raised her hand, hesitated for a moment, then gently patted Nabiel's shoulder covered by the white shirt.
"Be careful, okay," she said, her voice softening into a whisper that only Nabiel could hear. "Take care of your health, don't push yourself, and please... don't get hurt again."
Nabiel looked into the black eyes of his childhood best friend. He could feel the weight of her sincere concern as a human being. The Outer Observer simply nodded slowly, letting his messy bangs slightly cover his eyes.
"Sure," replied Nabiel briefly.
Momo smiled in relief. She turned around and walked away. Nabiel watched the girl's movement. As the story should go, Momo walked straight toward Todoroki Shouto, who was standing alone, gathering the strongest pieces to challenge the main protagonist. The gears of the narrative turned perfectly.
Nabiel slipped his bandaged hand into the pocket of his sports pants. He turned back to face his three team members. Shoji looked at him calmly, Asui tilted her head with an innocent gaze, and Mineta was still trembling from Momo's deadly stare.
"Alright, team," said Nabiel, his dark eyes looking at them one by one. He took a deep breath, preparing to execute the laziest plan in the history of the U.A. Sports Festival. "Time to plan our strategy."