MHA; Natsu Dragneel!

**Chapter 19: The End of the USJ Arc**

The air outside the shattered gates of USJ was heavy, thick with the acrid scent of smoke and the faint metallic tang of blood. The once-pristine training facility now lay in ruins, its skeletal remains a grim testament to the chaos that had unfolded. Police officers swarmed the area, their movements sharp and deliberate, like a well-oiled machine. The villains, now subdued, were dragged away in chains, their faces etched with a mixture of defiance and despair. The clinking of shackles echoed through the silence, a haunting symphony of justice served. The officers worked with military precision, their calm demeanor a stark contrast to the devastation around them.

In the distance, paramedics carefully loaded Aizawa onto a stretcher, his body a canvas of bruises and lacerations. Despite the pain, his expression remained stoic, the hardened gaze of a man who had stared death in the face too many times to count. The students watched from a safe distance, their faces pale, their eyes wide with a mixture of awe and fear. They had seen their teacher pushed to his limits, and the sight of his battered form was a sobering reminder of the dangers they had chosen to face.

All Might stood at the epicenter of the scene, his towering figure casting a long shadow over the wreckage. Beside him, an old friend and seasoned police inspector surveyed the battlefield with a critical eye. The inspector's face was lined with age and experience, his sharp gaze taking in every detail of the destruction.

"That fire," the inspector began, his voice low and gravelly, "the one that consumed the Nomu… it wasn't normal. That boy, Natsu—his flames were something else entirely. They didn't just burn; they obliterated. The Nomu's regenerative cells were completely destroyed. It couldn't heal. I've never seen anything like it."

All Might's brow furrowed as he stared at the horizon, his thoughts a whirlwind of concern and admiration. The memory of Natsu's flames lingered in his mind, their intensity both awe-inspiring and unsettling. "Is it natural," he murmured, more to himself than to the inspector, "for someone so young to wield such power?"

The inspector's lips curled into a faint, knowing smile. "Be thankful he's on our side. If that boy had chosen a darker path… well, let's just say we'd be dealing with a problem far beyond our capabilities. He's a force of nature, All Might. And that makes him your responsibility. Guide him well."

All Might's trademark smile returned, though it was tinged with a newfound resolve. "I will. As his teacher, I owe him that much—and more."

---

Inside the bus, the students sat in uneasy silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The adrenaline of the battle had faded, leaving behind a heavy exhaustion that weighed on their shoulders. Some leaned back in their seats, eyes closed, while others stared blankly out the windows, their minds replaying the day's events in vivid detail.

Todoroki sat near the window, his expression as unreadable as ever. But beneath his calm exterior, his mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. His left hand rested on his knee, fingers twitching slightly as he recalled the searing heat of Natsu's flames. For years, he had rejected the fire that coursed through his veins, associating it with his father's ambition and cruelty. But seeing Natsu wield his own flames with such mastery had shaken something loose within him. The flames weren't just a weapon; they were a part of him. And if he wanted to reach his full potential, he would have to embrace them—fire and ice alike.

Across the aisle, Bakugo sat with his arms crossed, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked as though it might crack. His crimson eyes burned with a mixture of anger and determination. The image of Natsu standing victorious over the Nomu played on a loop in his mind, each repetition fueling his frustration. Bakugo had always prided himself on being the best, the strongest. But Natsu's display of raw power had thrown that belief into question. And Bakugo hated it. He would train harder, push himself further—whatever it took to surpass the fiery upstart who had stolen the spotlight.

Meanwhile, Natsu lay sprawled on the bus floor, his face a sickly shade of green. Despite his incredible strength and resilience, he was utterly defenseless against the gentle swaying of the vehicle. His stomach churned with every turn, and his limbs felt like lead.

Mineta, seated nearby, couldn't resist a snide comment. "Wow, you look like death warmed over. Some hero you are."

Happy, perched on the headrest of Mineta's seat, chuckled softly. "This always happens. Natsu can take down dragons, but put him on a bus, and he's completely useless."

Yaoyorozu, sitting a few rows ahead, glanced back at Natsu with a curious expression. Her sharp mind was already analyzing the paradox before her. "It's fascinating," she mused aloud, "how someone so powerful in battle can be so vulnerable in such an ordinary situation."

Kaminari, overhearing, grinned. "Yeah, it's like his kryptonite or something. Who would've thought?"

The tension in the bus began to ease as laughter rippled through the group. The students, still shaken from the battle, found solace in the lighthearted moment. It was a small reprieve, but one they desperately needed.

Natsu, despite his misery, managed a weak smile. The camaraderie among his classmates was a warmth he hadn't expected. They had faced danger together, and in doing so, they had forged a bond that went beyond mere friendship.

---

Later that evening, Natsu returned to his modest apartment, Happy trailing behind him. The room was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, casting long shadows across the walls. Natsu collapsed onto his bed with a groan, his body sinking into the mattress.

Happy fluttered down beside him, his tiny paws patting the pillow. "Well, that was one heck of a day, huh?"

Natsu stared up at the ceiling, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Yeah… but it was kinda fun, in a weird way."

For a while, they lay there in comfortable silence, the events of the day replaying in their minds. The world outside seemed distant, almost surreal, compared to the intensity of the battle they had just survived.

---

In the days that followed, the media erupted with criticism and speculation. UA's security failures were scrutinized, and the public demanded answers. How had the villains infiltrated such a prestigious institution? How had the students been put in such grave danger? The academy faced a storm of backlash, but within its walls, the focus remained on recovery and growth. The students and teachers alike were determined to emerge stronger from the ordeal.

---

A week later, the classroom was quiet, the air thick with anticipation. Natsu sat at the back of the room, his gaze fixed on the window. The events of the past week had left their mark, but today, there was a sense of purpose in the air.

At the front of the room, Aizawa stood, his bandaged form a stark reminder of the battle they had endured. His voice, though calm, carried a weight that commanded attention. "The UA Sports Festival is approaching," he announced, his eyes scanning the room. "This is your chance to prove yourselves—not just to the world, but to each other. Give it everything you've got."

The students exchanged glances, their determination reignited. The road ahead would be challenging, but they were ready to face it—together.

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