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... ner, the seats were heavy with bodies. Reporters. Scouts. Students. Alumni. Fans. Even the highest rows felt like front-row seats to war.
He turned toward Aizawa. Still locked in. Staring. His gaze never left the tall figure across the court.
Minato Haruto.
Aizawa didn’t blink. Didn’t stretch. Didn’t joke. Just stared.
Dirga walked over and bumped Aizawa’s shoulder. "Breathe. You freeze up, and I’ll have to drag you into rhythm."
Aizawa didn’t look away fr ...
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