To say I was excited was an understatement - in fact, I was euphoric. The parameters for what I called the Great Yuei Games had all been met: it was only a matter of time before my supreme work of destroying the canon came to fruition.

Okay, it wouldn't affect the whole story, but it would ruin all the original storylines in that arc.

Especially since, as I recall, the original Shoto had been one of the main protagonists of this arc before fading into the background as a sort of semi-secondary character, leaving all the screen time to Izuku and Bakugo in later seasons.

While I didn't want to give the green-haired loser even a fraction of a second of screen time, I wasn't against giving Bakugo second place.

I'd had time to think about it lately, and I actually didn't find him all that unbearable. I looked at the boy who was sitting on the floor to my left.

“Why are you staring at me ?” he grumbled, glaring at me with a look that neither warmed nor chilled me.

“I'd kick your ass in hand-to-hand combat morning, noon, and night," I replied flatly.

Kirishima, who was stretched out in front of me, froze when he heard me.

“Say that again, you stupid bastard," Bakugo snapped and stood up.

I stood up and faced him.

“I propose to referee the match," Monoma breathed between two stretches.

“There will be no-”

“Someone has to make sure that the teacher doesn't come back," I called. “Denki, go”

“Huh?" the boy shouted in surprise. “What do I have I got to do it ?”

“If you don't go, I'll give Midnight all the photos you secretly took of her and hid under your desk”

He shot like an arrow toward the gym entrance.

“Clear !" he shouted.

Bakugo looked at Denki, Monoma and then at me in surprise.

I hunched my shoulders and jumped like a boxer about to enter the ring.

“You're chickening out," I said.

Bakugo bent his legs and raised his fists to his face.

So predictable.

“As if”

Bakugo threw himself forward, sending me a punch so telegraphed that I had no trouble dodging it. I took the opportunity to shift on the side and retaliated with a kick to his head.

Bakugo rolled backwards before rising to his knees, spitting blood without taking his eyes off me.

“Are we playing or fighting ?" I taunted. “We both know you can do better than that”

He frowned and the game resumed.

*

It was D-day for Shoto.

He'd had trouble falling asleep the night before, tossing and turning in bed as the excitement made him shiver.

His father had given him a few worried looks when he saw the famous spasms that ran through his left hand at noon.

“Are you all right, Shoto ?" he asked.

“Of course”

And the boy's smile was not the least bit reassuring.

Enji decided to ignore his son and his Machiavellian plans to ease his conscience, hoping that he wouldn't regret his decision later.

Shoto spent the rest of the morning in an almost feverish state until Present Mic invited him to the stage to begin the opening speech of the first year tournament.

“I'd like to ask you to give a warm welcome to the first year laureate of the entrance examination, Shoto Todoroki !”

A roar from the audience and polite applause from the other students.

Shoto nodded, placed his hands on the stand, and leaned toward the microphone.

“Hello everyone, and welcome to the 57th Yuei Championship”

Another polite round of applause.

Shoto raised his hand to silence it.

“In the weeks leading up to this tournament, I noticed something very unfortunate. It seems that the students of the general and technological classes don't feel very involved in the Yuei Championship, and for good reason: its very nature is to highlight the heroic classes, as opposed to the other types of events organized during the rest of the year”

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The said students turned their heads towards him, suddenly interested.

“I'd like to remedy this by offering something other than the 'strongest' title at the end of this championship”

He turned to the tribune where the championship announcers and the rest of the teachers were sitting.

“Principal Nezu, if you'll allow me, I'd like to present the tournament winner with a gift myself”

Surprised murmurs went through the crowd.

Aizawa crossed his arms over his chest, not for a second gullible enough to believe that Shoto Todoroki's potential gift was nothing more than a poisoned apple.

Nezu narrowed his eyes, his calculating gaze fixed on Shoto.

There were cameras and the audience was excited at the prospect of this 'surprise': he had to respond.

“... it's true that nothing in the rules forbids a student to offer something to another as part of a victory," he replied slowly. As long as the gift is not of an illegal nature, or endangers either the recipient or anyone else in the audience, I don't see why we should refuse such a generous act”

The audience applauded.

Shoto thanked Nezu and then reached for the black briefcase he'd placed next to his desk.

Turning his back on the students, he opened it and showed its contents to the cameras and the audience.

For a brief moment, there was no sound from the audience, such was their shock, except for the sound of camera flashes.

Present Mic's jaw dropped, his glasses almost falling off the tip of his nose.

“I... I... Is it really...?”

Aizawa's eyebrows rose so high that they disappeared into his hair.

“I was sure he was up to something" he muttered in a low voice.

Headmaster Nezu's eyes shone, his expression indecipherable.

“This boy is truly surprising”

The other students craned their necks to see what was causing such a stir in the crowd.

Shoto stayed like that for a few moments, savoring the effect of his little revelation, before finally turning to the most interested parties.

Several students blinked, unable to comprehend that a 16-year-old had just proposed such a thing to the winner of the championship.

One of them rubbed his eyes with his sleeve, wondering aloud if he was still asleep.

“I'm offering a million dollars to anyone who can beat me in this championship”

Bonus :

“Yo, granny Teka”

She grumbled on the other end of the line.

“Don't call me that”

I smiled.

“Say, have you ever heard of the Yuei Championship ?”

I heard her talking to someone else in Italian, barking orders at the other end of the line.

“Ho detto di tagliargli le dita, non di strappargli le unghie !”

She seems to be enjoying herself. Why did I refuse to live with her again ?

“What did you say ?" she smoothly returned to the conversation.

“Are you old enough to have known the Olympics ?”

There was a short silence in which I thought she was going to hang up.

“What do you want, you unworthy child ?”

My smile widened.

“Let's just say I need your help with something. I'd ask Dad, but since I don't want him to end my projects before they even begin, I'd rather talk to you”

“And how can your old and humble” the next words seemed to cost her greatly“grandmother help you with your machinations ?”

That was one of the things I liked best about her; no pointless questions or doomed attempts to stop me from carrying out my more or less dubious plans.

“It's true that I wonder how my old mafia grandmother can help me," I said, rolling my eyes. "But I don't need you, I need your money"

“Can't your father give you some ?” she asked in surprise.

“He's trying to 'teach me the value of money' or something like that," I said, shrugging.

I'd been a multimillionaire in my last life, the heir to a fortune worth billions, as well as the equivalent of a mobster's fortune in this one.

It was a losing bet for him, but I felt bad about dashing his hopes, so I pretended to understand.

“Enji has always been the closest thing to a... good person in our family," she said.

“He's a lot like his father in that way”

Her tone was thoughtful, her voice softer.

It was strange to hear the old thing sound almost... gentle.

“Old Todoroki ? Never heard much about him”

That snapped her out of her torpor.

“How much do you need ?”

“A million dollars”

There was a long, long silence.

I would have liked to think it was because I'd managed to nail the harpy, but that would have been lying to myself. Sure, she was taken aback and maybe even a little surprised, but no one could ever nail Teka Todoroki.

“You know that I never make investments unless I'm sure that I'll make a profit, Shoto. What makes you think I'd lend you so much money ?”

She no longer sounded like the old woman who had been falsely annoyed by my spontaneous phone call, but rather like the formidable businesswoman I knew her to be.

“I'll pay you back exactly thirteen days later, with a 30% profit”

By my estimation, it will be closer to 50%, but I wanted to keep a piece of the pie for myself.

Thanks Nezu and his sports betting system.

“If I accept, I demand that you spend next summer with me”

I frowned, displeased.

Next summer would be training camp with all its problems, and I had my reasons for not wanting to miss it.

“Why are you so adamant that I come and visit you for so long?”

Her suggestion wasn't a new one, in fact it was a recurring one: for several years now she had been insisting that I visit her for the long haul, not just occasionally, and I couldn't understand why.

“You're my heir, Shoto. Your father knew it when he brought you to me in Italy all those years ago, and my own men knew it when they heard of your arrival. They are loyal to me, but none of them will follow anyone who isn't a Made-Man. I owe it to you to initiate you, and you owe it to yourself to come if you wish to take my place at the head of our empire”

I remained silent.

The idea of being a Made-Man - of being the next head of the Todoroki clan and all that came with it - was quite appealing.

In my previous life, I was supposed to take the reins of the company from my parents, and I had been raised to be superior to every other man on Earth. In this life, my father had designed me to surpass All Might and become the most powerful new being to ever walk this world.

Right now, I was just having fun, trying to make the history of this world as obsolete as possible, doing nothing but living in the moment and enjoying my new opportunity.

To tell the truth, beyond those three years of high school, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. In fact, I'd never really thought about it. With my hero's license in hand, I'd have no problem using my Quirk on public places and everywhere in the world. I was wealthy, too, and the possibilities offered by money and power were endless in a world as greedy as ours.

I could literally do anything I wanted-and in a way, that was terrifying.

I could decide to become the greatest terrorist of all time, and no one would ever be able to stop me.

Freedom - the real one, the kind that made you dizzy tbecause of how grandiose it was - was a disturbing concept.

“If I accept, wouldn't I have to become the next godfather as soon as I turn eighteen?”

“The correct term is Don, Shoto. As for your obligations, you should know that no one can force you to do anything against your will as long as I'm alive.”

I took a moment to weigh the pros and cons of my situation before answering:

“I'll come, but next year”

“Deal”

------------------------------------------

Author’s note :

I remember taking a whole week racking my brain to find an idea that wouldn't make the Champion arc a carbon copy of all the other fanfics out here but that would also reflect Shoto's personnality.

Think I did pretty good.

Power stones goal : 250 to get the bonus chapter

P@treon : Nar_cisseENG where you can read up to 50 chapters ahead.

See you in the next update everyone !