He turned and walked toward the tunnel, scarf trailing behind him like a dark flag. The team remained on the grass, scattered across the pitch in small clusters. Bakugou was already up, kicking a stray ball against the goal frame with sharp, frustrated bursts of energy. Midoriya sat cross-legged, still analysing something on his phone — probably footage of their next opponent.

She tilted her head slightly, dark hair catching the glow of the floodlights. Behind her, Uraraka and Iida were packing up the cones near the sideline, their laughter carrying across the empty pitch.