MHA: Sand Sand Fruit

Kirishima felt a sense of foreboding as Bakugo's rage intensified. He quickly tried to intervene, hoping to calm him down.

"Bakugo, hold on! Don't lose it!"

Meanwhile, Monoma, ever the instigator, couldn't resist pushing further.

"Bakugo, Bakugo... always so quick to anger," Monoma taunted, his smile widening. "You know, there's a saying: *Villains are just heroes with too much pride and too little control.* Sound familiar?"

Kirishima and Jiro both flinched at the clear insult, sensing that Monoma might have gone too far this time.

"You might want to reconsider provoking him," Jiro muttered, nervously glancing at Bakugo's increasingly feral expression.

But Monoma only chuckled, brushing off her warning. "What's wrong with a little truth? If anything, I'm helping him build character!"

That was the last straw. Bakugo's face darkened as he clenched his fists, small explosions popping in his palms.

"That's it," Bakugo growled, his voice trembling with fury. "Kirishima, let's go."

"Bakugo! Wait!" Kirishima hesitated, worried about where this was going. But seeing the determined glint in Bakugo's eyes, he sighed and nodded reluctantly. "Fine. Just… try not to kill anyone."

As Kirishima charged forward with Bakugo on his back, Monoma smirked, clearly pleased with himself.

"You think I'm scared?" Monoma taunted as Bakugo lunged at him, his palm igniting with a fiery explosion. "You're just proving my point—reckless and predictable!"

Monoma dodged with ease, using his copied Quirk to harden his body just in time to block Bakugo's blast. The impact sent him skidding back slightly, but his smirk never wavered.

"Nice try," Monoma said, brushing imaginary dust off his shoulder. "But you'll have to do better than that, *villain-in-training.*"

Bakugo's eyes narrowed, and the next blast came even harder, forcing Monoma to dig his heels into the ground to stay upright.

"Bakugo, stop! He's just baiting you!" Jiro called out, but her words fell on deaf ears.

Before the clash could escalate further, a new voice cut through the chaos.

"Thanks for softening him up for me."

Everyone turned to see Akira casually standing nearby, a sly grin on his face. In one swift motion, Akira reached out, snatching the scarves tied around Monoma's neck with precise accuracy.

"What the—!" Monoma's expression shifted to shock as Akira effortlessly hung the scarves around his own neck.

"You're welcome," Akira said smugly, stepping back as Monoma processed what had just happened.

Monoma's shock quickly turned to anger, and he reached out, brushing Akira's hand as he attempted to grab the scarves back.

A grin spread across Monoma's face as realization dawned. "Oh? So this is the famed Akira. I've been meaning to test something… Looks like today's my lucky day."

"Test something?" Akira raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.

"Why, your *Quirk*, of course," Monoma replied, his voice dripping with confidence. "You might have everyone else fooled, but I'll show them you're not so special."

Bakugo's scowl deepened as he realized what Monoma meant. "Tch. Don't underestimate him, Monoma. You copy his ability, and you'll only dig your own grave."

Akira blinked, his curiosity piqued. "Wait. Copy? You can do that?"

Monoma grinned, raising his hand dramatically. "Let me show you!"

With a wave of his hand, the ground beneath him trembled. Sand surged upwards, forming a massive hand that loomed menacingly over the field.

Akira's expression turned serious as he watched the spectacle unfold. "Well, damn. Looks like you actually can copy it."

Monoma's grin widened as he relished the stunned expressions of those around him. "What's wrong, Akira? Feeling a little outclassed?"

But just as Monoma prepared to strike, a sudden wave of fatigue washed over him. His knees buckled slightly, and sweat beaded on his forehead as his breathing grew labored.

"What… what's happening?" Monoma stammered, his confident demeanor crumbling.

Akira crossed his arms, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, right. Forgot to mention—my ability isn't exactly easy to handle. I guess you're not cut out for the big leagues after all."

Monoma tried to steady himself, but the strain of maintaining the sand construct was overwhelming. The massive hand crumbled back into the ground, leaving him exposed and vulnerable.

"Tch. Looks like you bit off more than you could chew," Bakugo sneered, his earlier anger replaced with cold satisfaction.

Akira shrugged, his tone casual. "Well, this was fun, but I've got a game to win. Better luck next time, Monoma."

With that, Akira turned and walked away, his teammates following close behind.

Monoma glared after him, his pride in tatters. But as he struggled to catch his breath, he couldn't deny one thing: Akira was far more dangerous than he'd anticipated.