10 - Sports Festival 1: The Star Maiden
Fourteen Days Before The Sports Festival
"Sports festival?!" Mineta.
"Fsporphs Frrruhstuhvuh." Aizawa.
"SPORTS FESTIVAL?!" Kaminari.
"Fsporphs Frrruhstuhvuh." Aizawa.
This goes on for another minute or so. If one possessed super hearing, they could easily hear one of the teacher's blood vessels popping with every response he received. Their teacher and bearer of bad news, the mummified Aizawa, has just announced to Class 1-A that they would be participating in a sporting event, as far as Peter can tell. It's a lot harder to make out Japanese when it's being muffled by bandages. He had to wonder if Aizawa actually needed those bandages, or if Recovery Girl made him use them out of sheer spite. Either way, it was made for some top quality entertainment.
"C'mon Sensei, we just had a villain attack like, yesterday!"
"Two days ago."
"Two days ago!"
The teacher sighs, attempting to pinch the bridge of his nose but accidentally bumping his bandages arm onto his bandaged face. Some of the students snicker at this, Kaminari full-on snorting and earning a glare from Aizawa.
"Whull we unnerstandf yor kuhncerms, ift's impheratiff thaht FOO-AYE f'mainthains a sounth ruhsponth too thuh sichuashuhn. Therr wuhll be foive thoims thuh numbpher of acthiv poleef. Yoo shudff ve thahnkfull, portifipating en thuh Fsporph Fustuhvuh iff thuh hraytesth offortunithy yull-"
"Sensei, we have absolutely no idea what you're saying." A grimacing Yaoyorozu finally steps up, speaking out amidst the sea of giggles and snorts that was the classroom. Most of the students were glancing at each other and then their teacher, in the hopes that his bleeding red gaze wouldn't land on them in particular.
No one needed super hearing to catch the sound of Aizawa grinding his teeth.
The bell rings, and lunchtime comes.
The lunchroom is abuzz with the usual chatter, many of the students stealing suspicious glances at the 1-A students, most of which didn't seem to notice. Today, Peter decided to sit closer to the people he felt he could talk to, therefore Kaminari and Mineta, who sat across from Jiro and who Peter recognized as Sero, or the kid with the weird elbows.
"You know," Kaminari starts, interrupting himself to slurp up an ungodly amount of soba, "As pumped as I am for the Sports Festival, seems a bit soon for them to throw that on us right? 'Specially after that attack. Do they not think of the trauma we experienced?"
"Didn't you tell me this morning you spent most of yesterday at the mall to find a shirt that went better with your costume to look cooler!"
"Fashion's therapeutic. You wouldn't understand what I'm going through."
"I was with you. So was Yaoyorozu, and she's doing fine." Jiro said, taking a sip from her milk carton and glaring at Denki pointedly.
"Well my point is they should at least postpone it!"
"No way!" Kirishima said, speedily moving closer to where they sat and throwing his body over the table while leaning his chair forward and standing it on two legs. His arrival was sudden and obnoxious, causing everyone's trays to shake and Jiro to hack up droplets of the precious dairy product in surprise, with Peter doing a panicked hop in place and reeling back from the table. "We've gotta prove our manliness to alla' the heroes that'll be there! You said it yourself bro!"
"Oh come on, they've at least gotta give us some extra time to rela—recover before training!" Mineta whined, making exaggerated hand motions at Kirishima. "Heck, Parker had to fight that big thing all by himself! He's probably the most traumatized one here!"
"No way again!" Kirishima said. "Parker's the manliest guy at this table, he wouldn't let something like that slow 'im down, right?"
Said Parker was wolfing down a hamburger steak when he stops to see the rest of the group staring at him, as if waiting for some sort of response. Not even bothering to swallow, he drops his utensils and gives the arguing bunch a weak wave and a small grin, carefully making sure no food spills from his mouth as he does.
"See! This' a real man right here!" Kirishima said in response, reaching over the table and wrapping his arm around Peter's neck, doing a strange sort of side-hug and almost causing the boy to cough out his food. All Peter can do is offer a weak thumbs up while the rest of the students present show open pity at his predicament. "You should've seen him out there! Handling something that intense like a champ and coming to school like nothing, he's bound to get a ton of praise from the heroes!"
"Ay, don't be so sure man." Denki postures, kicking his feet up onto the lunch table and leaning back in his chair, grinning. "I like to think I'll be the one on top this time. Sorry Parker, but I've gotta keep up an image." He gives the foreign boy a cheeky wink and a toothy grin, to which Jiro and Kirishima giggle, both for different reasons entirely.
"Pffft. The day you can beat Parker is the day Bakugo's fuse gets a few feet longer." Jiro says, taking another sip of milk and ignoring the distant 'OI' in response to her disrespect.
"Actually…" Peter finally said in a hushed tone, noticing all eyes turning to him once more, "I...do not understand. Is this a…. fight?" He communicates slowly, sounding out every syllable and word so as to make sure he doesn't say something embarrassing again. The boy didn't quite understand what this 'Sports Festival' really entailed. He was assuming it was a competition of sorts, and that already put him off quite a bit.
See, Peter Parker was not a naturally competitive or athletic person. Sports are not what Peter Parker does. He spent recess reading chemistry textbooks instead of playing kickball or tag with everyone else, he didn't really measure up to most people from a physical standpoint for a majority of his life. Heck, before the spider bite he could barely lift his computer monitor, much less play basketball. When it came to competition, he's never felt particularly inclined towards challenging other people, unless it was from an intellectual standpoint and their name was Liz 'She-Demon' Allen.
It reminded him of a time when things were simpler, and she took it upon herself to laugh at him for being late to school for the third day in a row despite his history of perfect attendance. It was probably the most violent and confrontational Peter ever got with another human being that wasn't a super villain, and he ended up being challenged to an academic decathlon-style quiz that would be hosted by her fellow members of the student council.
Peter then claimed that he would 'destroy her in a way so profound that her family would feel the residual shame for generations to come.' He likes to lie to himself and say the symbiote had left some negative effects on his psyche that caused him to say that, but he knows it wasn't quite true. Unfortunately, he couldn't attend the duel of minds as he was too busy being flung around the Bronx by Omega Red—'An X-Men villain, mind you.'— and couldn't show up as a result.
Harry took it upon himself to step in and fight for Peter's honor. He was thusly destroyed in a way so profound Norman probably had to gasp for air and clutch his nearly stopped heart as he sat in his corporate office. It wasn't a fair match-up to say the least, Harry was a B-minus student at best and Liz excelled academically in a way that made even Peter sweat. The rich boy stood no chance, and no amount of comfort pizza could heal the scars she left on his soul.
Bottom line was, competition is not his thing. It never was and likely never would be.
"Honestly it's more about puttin' on a show when you think about it," Sero says as he cuts in, leaning forward in his seat as if he's giving away trade secrets. "If we look impressive enough than we're sure to get commendations from the heroes right? Plus a ton of sidekick opportunities!"
"Yeah! It's also a good way for the school to make money. Millions of people watch the Sports Festival every year, it's basically replaced the Olympics," Mineta said. "I mean, you also get to have a ton of babes watching you show off your moves! It's guaranteed to score you some—."
"You little pig." Said Jiro, her weaponised earlobes pointed threateningly at the lecherous louse.
"Haha, c'mon I'm just messing around!" Mineta says defensively, putting on a nervous smile and rubbing the back of his head. He turns to Peter again, as if asking for help. Giving him one of those 'you brought this upon yourself' looks, Peter shrugs, eliciting laughter from everyone else at the table.
"What is going on?!" The round-faced girl Peter believes is named Urarara(ra?)ka yelled, standing at the exit door of class 1-A. And she had good reason to, as Peter looked over and saw the blockade of students stood by the doorway, talking idly amongst themselves and creating a sea of chatter.
"The heck are they here for?" Mineta says with a look of outrage aimed towards the mob, before he feels himself being lightly shoved out of the way by Bakugo.
"Scoping out the competition it looks like. Heh." He smirks, walking closer to the mob as if approaching a new challenger. "Makes sense, we're the guys ones survived a villain attack that. Plus, I am here after all." His smirk becomes a frown when he reaches the doorway, then screaming in a voice that cut through the noise: "Outta' my way cannon fodder, before I'm forced to move the lot of you."
Midoriya and Iida plead for him to stop, but both realize their efforts are in vain when they see Bakugo's fists clench. Peter instinctively keeps an eye on things, his aversion to senseless violence getting the best of him, but he remains stood behind the aforementioned Midoriya and Iida until anything happens.
Or when he can, you know, leave.
"Must say, I'm more than a little unimpressed." Another voice cuts through the silence that Bakugo created, and from the crowd comes a boy with wildly tall purple hair and bags under his eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck, presenting himself with a very casual and almost affable disposition. "A lot of us couldn't make it into this coveted hero course you know? If this' what it looks like, I'm almost glad I didn't get in here…"
"What's that supposed to mean, huh?" Bakugo said, taking a threatening step forward and narrowing his eyes. Those standing on the sidelines and watching stiffen up, basking in awe at this purple stranger's nerves. Alas, another voice cuts through, one that offered a bit more levity.
"Hey—HEY! Class 1-B, next door!" Yells a student with some...eyelashes, Peter assumes. Very strange eyelashes. "Heard you guys got in a fight with some villains, so I came here to find out more, but insteada' heroes all I'm seeing is some arrogant jerks! You guys better not act this way at the Festival, got it!?"
"We'll act whatever way we want, lashes."
And with that, the Class 1-A reputation is forever cemented as being 'arrogant jerks.'
"Oh come on Bakugo, you can't be that way! You're just making us more enemies!" Kaminari says with a sigh, showing his annoyance towards the angrier blonde, who was far too busy trying to shove his way through the crowd of angry students.
"Like I care! I'm aiming for the top and nowhere else, and these losers can get—hrkmove—outta my—seriouslygetoutthewaywhatinthefuck-"
With that, he was gone.
Kirishima sniffles. "S-So manly…"
"The guy's deluded! Just made himself a target." Kaminari huffs, crossing his arms. Though Sato and Tokoyami seem somewhat more distant, thinking on this.
"He's got the right idea though. Aiming for the top, huh…" Sato says as he rubs his chin, staring off quizzically.
Peter can only sigh, pick up his bag, and turn his attention elsewhere. He's not particularly nervous, nor is he particularly excited about any of he's hoping it will at least be a good time.
'But hey,' He thinks, stepping out of the classroom and ignoring the glances he received from other students, 'At least it's just a sporting event. No life-risking combat for a good, long while.'
Twelve Days Before the Sports Festival
The school days go by too quickly for his tastes. He notices everyone's demeanor changing, for better or for worse, and decides he should try something too.
Not that he really cares about the Sports Festival at all, but he'd prefer being able to hold his own should he have to challenge anyone directly. Peter is a more than capable fighter, but he never really 'trained' in the same way everyone else was. The closest he ever got was a few combat tips from Daredevil, which came in handy from time to time. How to measure his blows, how much force to put behind attacks depending on where it is he's hitting, how to use some of his other senses to his advantage.
Come to think of it, Daredevil taught him a lot of things.
"I should go to a gym." He says outloud, slightly startling Sandwich, who was absorbed in his meal time. Peter is splayed out on his bed, staring up at the popcorn ceiling of his small apartment. "No, they probably wouldn't have enough weight for me. I could try shadowboxing?"
The television drones on about something that doesn't concern him. Sandwich merely snarls in response, downright inhaling the processed meat. These were the two things he could confide in anymore.
Wait, the television. It just said something important, something he could make out. He looks at it and perks his ears, staring at the news anchor on screen.
.:...the hero known as Peach Boy, making this the seventeenth hero found dead in Japan as part of a massive string of strikingly similar homicides and assaults. In spite of this, twenty-three heroes managed to survive their run-ins with the 'Hero Killer', as social media has dubbed him, with extreme injuries, many of them reported that…:.
Peter frowns at the tragic news, rubbing his chin and thinking for a moment. Then, a light bulb.
"Or I could try patrolling? See if there's any more guys I can trounce out there. Yeah. That sounds like a good time. You're a smart guy, Sandwich." Peter said to the dog, smiling looking over at messy table at the other end of the room, eyeing the red and blue costume that he spent the better part of yesterday repairing, as well as the pair of web shooters he'd refilled. Now, this didn't mean he was going to go looking for the Hero Killer. He didn't even have information to go off of other than a news story and the fact that he's already killed over a dozen people in Japan. It's silly of him to expect to find anything substantial, not to mention the risk he's taking in trying to find someone that killed heroes, ones that are probably stronger than he is if All Might is anything to go off of.
But, if he runs into anything, he isn't afraid to swing. He's a New Yorker, after all. Not a thrill seeker.
So he throws on the suit, feeling the fabric grip his body like a second skin, and clasps on the classic web shooters, taking pride in his ingenuity and intelligence. Then, he puts on the mask, his eyes adjust to the thin white netting that went under the clear plastic lenses. The suit looks aged, a lot of the older and unreplaced fabric still worn out and loose in some places, but it will have to do. He fingers the triggers of the web shooters, feeling the fluid inside of the metal cartridges stir and rattle, threatening to fire.
He's satisfied with his handiwork. And while the suit will never stop hugging him in all the wrong places, he'll always find comfort in the familiarity.
So he takes to the night, in search of villainy and action.
He returns hours later, having found very little.
Eleven Days Before the Sports Festival
One boy was repeatedly hitting another boy in the middle of a ballpark. This is not the situation you think it is.
"Okay, hit me again!"
"Are you sure?"
"Hell yeah!"
WHAM
"Nn…"
Kirishima almost doubles over in pain, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. All Peter can do is wince apologetically.
The red-haired boy had asked Peter if he could help him with some training, and Peter expected something like spotting him at a gym, or a light spar of some sort. Not an endurance test. He knew Kirishima's ability was to become harder, and ignoring every possible double entendre he could think of, he understood that this was a method of training it. Seeing just how much damage he could sustain before succumbing to the pain. So, he requested that Peter follow him to this local baseball field, and hit him.
And Peter hit him, being sure to pull his punches, but he realized it sort of hurt, so he hit him a bit harder. Then harder, and harder, until he was sort of putting his back into it a bit. He didn't mean to. In fact, the other boy was quite literally asking for it!
"Are you sure we should—."
"N-No I'm good. I'm good." Kirishima says through bated breaths, brushing his forearm over his lip. He steels himself, holding both arms at his sides and scrunches up his face, activating his quirk and causing his skin to harden even further.
Peter reels his fist back, preparing to send another, perhaps slightly weaker hit straight into the poor boy's sternum, when he catches himself, a stray, but relevant, memory coming to mind.
"You can take a hit all you like, but you're better off learning how not to get hit in the first place, idiot." He says, masterfully tossing the bloodied billy club at Spider-Man. It's caught easily, and responded to only with a skeptical look. The thug who broke his hands on Spider-Man's scalp writhes on the ground, groaning in pain.
"Maybe...not taking the hit. D...Dodging?" Peter says, lowering his fist. "You can already take the hit, yes? But you need to...not take the hit. Moving out."
Kirishima blinks, then blinks again. Humming, he straightens out his posture and looks off in thought, before a wide and toothy grin adorns his face. "You're right!" He exclaims, snapping his fingers. "I can get better at dodging hits and still be able to train how good I am at taking them! That way I can draw fights out longer. That's way manlier!"
He gives Peter a light slug on the shoulder, the manliest way of thanking someone his brain could muster, and raises his defenses.
"Okay, now try to hit me and I'll move out of the way! C'mon, full speed!"
"A...are you sure?"
"Yeah! I bet I could—!"
WHAM!
"GAH!"
Peter won't dare admit it, but this is somewhat therapeutic.
Nine Days Before the Sports Festival
He bought a laptop, and he's feeling a bit proud of himself. Granted, he may have personally asked Present Mic if the school could bump his checks up to cover a few costs, but that doesn't mean he doesn't feel like he's earned it. The machine isn't anything too powerful, it's just about what you'd get for school and work documents and the occasional browsing, but it's more than enough given what he's had for the last few…months?
It has been some time, hasn't it.
At first he does a bit of research, for things he hasn't quite figured out yet. How much has happened since superpowers became a reality, how it happened and what research was put into it, how society adapted to those changes, all that. As it turns out, Hawaii doesn't exist anymore. It used to, but then there was something about a guy with a quirk that makes volcanoes explode as well as a lot of poorly edited found footage. Quite horrifying. Also as it turns out, he learns not everyone has a quirk after all, only about eighty percent of the population. It doesn't really come as a surprise, but it's still fascinating, and he can't help but wonder just what triggered it. Could it be some alternate variation of the X-Gene? Alien tampering? Government experimentation accidentally released into the public? No one seems to have found out, not even the…
"Late Reed Richards, who died during the failed Astraea One mission, along with his wife Sue Richards, his brother-in-law Jonathan Storm, and close friend and colleague Ben Grimm. He and his wife left behind two children, Franklin and Valeria Richards, founders of the Future Foundation." He says aloud to himself, his voice taking on a somewhat anxious tone. "It's so...different. But at the same time…"
He stops, staring at the screen. In his musings, he didn't realize he was just halfway through typing something reflexively.
Peter P|
He eyes the blinking text cursor with a marked agitation, and slaps the laptop shut. With a sigh, he leans back until he goes from cross-legged on his bed to laying flat on his back, the most comfortable position for emotional outbursts.
"No. No we're—we're not doing that. Right Sandwich?" Peter mutters, not expecting any kind of response from his charge. "We're not doing any of that. Nope. We aren't going there."
And he didn't, for now at least.
Though it is a somewhat reassuring prospect to know that this Earth is at least similar enough to draw certain parallels from, despite the wild differences. Thor didn't seem to exist, or at least he'd never come to Earth for whatever reason. Bruce Banner was still alive, albeit a halfway successful physicist under scrutiny for drug abuse charges, though he's certain 'Trigger' never existed in his world. SHIELD was apparently defunct, falling apart due to unknown circumstances. Matt Murdock was governor of New York, something that gave Peter a strange sense of pride and relief. Otto Octavius wasn't a scientist at all, he was the face of a fitness program due to his astounding weight loss after participating in it. Plus, due to his quirk that allows him to bend metals at will, he'd coined the popular phrase 'don't just pump that iron, snap it in half!' There were numerous American commercials featuring him, lathered in oil, performing some intense looking workouts while blithering on about how handsome it makes him.
This was probably the most disturbing difference that he'd found.
But the most surprising of all, Norman Osborn, a man so vile Peter thought you could never replicate it, existed, and was still the multimillionaire he was in the other world. Though he seemed far less suspicious, given Oscorp focused less on genetic engineering and more on the business of supplying heroes with equipment and fashion. Not to mention the many pictures of him and Harry online, with them smiling and hugging and doing things a father and son would do.
His Norman was never that way, he was always cold to everyone around him, his very own family wasn't even an exception. Every interview he accepted was filled with cynicism, disgust with the media and the world at large. He almost never smiled in photographs either, coming off as uncharismatic and Scrooge-like. Overall, quite the terrible person to be around.
This didn't even count his habit of putting on a ridiculous purple and green goblin suit and flying around New York on a glider while throwing bombs around with reckless abandon.
But this Norman Osborn was a different man entirely. He was personable, fun, charitable and quite the humanitarian in his own right. A picturesque version of your everyday millionaire, with a staunch and devoted following on the internet because of his charisma and attitude. It was amazing just how different things were.
At least, it seemed, that things were better.
And he wouldn't admit it made him feel a bit curious.
Nor would he admit it made him feel a bit jealous.
Because this Peter Parker probably didn't have to deal with all the costumes and death-defying antics. This Peter Parker was probably happier. So he feels he's better off not knowing by just how much.
Six Days Before the Sports Festival
Three boys sat together and talked about girls, but not in the way you might think. No, it was infinitely more pathetic. They were trying to decide what Hagakure looked like. So, in the most uncomfortable and creepy way they possibly could, they sat and stared from across the lunch room, like a bunch of wildly stupid pigeons.
"Definitely blonde." Kaminari siiiiiippppssss from his milk carton.
"Nah. I bet she's a redhead." Mineta siiiiiippppssss from his coffee can.
"I do not know if color would count? Is it just...clear?" Parker siiiiiippppssss from his juice pouch.
Of course, the trio weren't staring at the invisible girl in question with longing or lust (besides maybe Mineta) just curiosity. None of the boys even knew how the conversation came up, it simply did. The girl was sat next to the ever quiet Jiro and the ever round-faced Ura(rara?)ka, with whom she was talking up a storm with. Peter didn't really feel embarrassed, he was sort of living on the 'nothing left to lose' mentality here. Shame was a word he no longer knew. Kaminari and Mineta were already deep enough into the darkness to begin with.
"Okay, valid point. But then she'd technically count as...colorless?" Kaminari says, taking another sip of his milk and squinting at the girl. "I mean, she probably has a color, right? Like, hair and skin and stuff, but we just can't see it."
"...how does she do her hair?" Mineta asks, squinting his eyes as well.
Peter eyes them both, a little bit skeptical of their intentions, but chimes in nonetheless. "You could just ask her?"
"No! That'd just be cheating."
"Yeah foreign boy! I dunno how they do it in America, but here we figure this stuff out on our own. Plus, if we ask her…" Mineta places a hand on Peter's shoulder, giving him a deathly serious look into the very windows of his soul, "she wins."
"O...Okay?"
They sat in amicable silence, still staring at the bubbly invisible lass.
Kaminari places his forefinger and thumb on his chin, his thoughts becoming deeper. "...what if you stabbed her? Would you see it or like-"
"Dude!"
"What?! It's an honest question!"
"You're gonna scare Parker away! Look at him, he's sweating!"
"Says you Mister 'How-Big-Is-The-Average-American-Cup-Size'!"
"That's very useful information! Besides you were curious too!"
"Well at least I have some SHAME!" Kaminari is standing now, both hands balled into fists while leaning down over Mineta's chair and giving him a glare like no other. It was all in good fun of course, but he wouldn't say he wasn't a little bit offended at the insinuation that he was as perverted as Mineta. There were lows even he wouldn't reach.
"Suuuuure. That must be why you wanted tripp pants for your hero costume."
"OH DON'T YOU-"
"Ha!"
Both students stop at the sudden noise, blinking at one another. They turn with almost perfect synchrony, their eyes held only slightly wide in surprise as they realize what they're seeing.
Peter Parker, full-blown laughing like he'd heard the best joke in his life. Chortles and quick breaths and all. They'd seen just about everyone laugh like that since the year had begun, except Parker. He was always too quiet, and the most he'd ever give was an amicable smile or a soft giggle.
"S-Sorry I ahm…" He wipes a tear from the corner of his eye, looking up at Kaminari. "Tr-tripp pants! Heh!"
Kaminari's flabbergasted look transforms into one of mock-agitation. "Come on man, not you too!"
"See! Even he thinks it'll just look stupid!"
"It's a fashion statement!"
Across the lunchroom, the girls were actually discussing how Toru does her hair. The boys did not know this, and would likely never know. They did come to the conclusion, however, that Kaminari would not look good in tripp pants. Few people ever do.
Two Days Before the Sports Festival
Peter doesn't feel well today.
It's nothing in particular. There's nothing new going on, he hasn't found a reason to feel this way. Well, that's a lie. There's a lot of reasons to feel this way. He'd be insane not to. But he's better than that, right?
He is.
Is he?
"I am."
He can hear his own heartbeat. His fingers run along the reflective lense of Spider-Man's mask. The only sound in the apartment is the droning of the ceiling fan and the sounds of Sandwich lapping at his water bowl.
"Am I?"
He can hear his own heartbeat. It's going too fast.
One Day Before the Sports Festival
"So, like, you nervous about tomorrow?" Says Pony, walking alongside Peter in some unspecified sidewalk in an unspecified neighborhood in Musutafu. The school day had just ended, and Peter had rather scandalously (at least according to Mineta) been asked to walk along with her. Peter quickly realized she didn't live anywhere near where he did, but he kept going anyways.
Peter turns his eyes up to the sky, thinking. "Not really."
"Are you that confident you can beat'em all?" She quirks an eyebrow, looking skeptical. "There's a couple of tough people in my class. I'm...I'm not sure if I can win against half of them. Not to mention yours and well, you."
She and most everyone else had heard tale from Mineta and Kirishima, two of the few very vocal witnesses. Peter Parker, taking on a monster that gave All Might a run for his money one on one. It was one of those things people would whisper about when they caught sight of him, not that Peter had really noticed.
"Well, no. I just don't really care I guess." Peter shrugs his shoulders, stuffing his hands in his pockets to further the cool nonchalant attitude. Though it was true, he genuinely wasn't concerned about the Sports Festival. Winning, losing, none of that, and that lack of concern had only grown since he learned what it was.
It wasn't that he didn't understand that people were though. Today was one of the few days Kaminari and Mineta hadn't approached him after school, as both wanted to get in some last minute practice before the Festival. The same went for just about every student that had no reason to stay at school afterward. But Peter's lack of care is one of the reasons he decided to spend his time walking to someone else's home.
"Come on, I'm not that special. Besides, if I'm not even trying then there's one less thing to worry about."
"I guess you're right...but still. I'm just, you know, not looking forward to losing."
She looks downcast and Peter notices this. Inwardly, he sighs, and puts on his 'joke-face.'
"Pish posh, as if. You're the best or 1-B, probably better than anyone in 1-A! I mean, have you seen Mineta? His hero costume has a diaper! If you're telling me you can't beat that, I'm assuming you're lying to lull me and everyone else into a false sense of security." Peter says in a dramatic tone, throwing his hands around in a lively fashion to add to the comedic effect. She giggles, and he considers it a success. "You've probably got a few tricks up your sleeve that'd make All Might quiver in fear!"
Her giggles turn to laughter, and it becomes a resounding success.
"Okay—Okay. I'll do my best. Thanks for the encouragement, it helps."
"What else am I here for."
They walk together in amicable silence for a bit longer, before Pony speaks again.
"By the way… I know you've gotten your Japanese down a bit better than me, but Monoma's been teaching me a few words. He keeps laughing when I say them, though, sooooo I think he's lying about what they mean."
"Like?"
"Well, do you know what kuso kurae means?"
Peter can't help but laugh too.
The Day of the Sports Festival
Norman Osborn wakes up, and greets the day with a smile.
End.
A/N:
Comic recommendations: Morrison and Sharp's The Green Lantern, Zdarsky and Checchetto's Daredevil, and Liu and Takeda's Monstress. Three amazing stories from DC, Marvel and Image. Check them out.
I liked writing this chapter. Lots more decompression, and it was a bit shorter. Practicing character interaction is fun.
I need to get used to not using alternatives for stuff like "said." That and epithets, which I've generally tried to avoid. It's hard not to be bothered by the repetition, but it makes it a lot more comprehensive I feel.
Hey, 100+ reviews! Nice! I'm honored by all the praise and advice you guys have given me on the ride. I feel like I've really improved and only want to keep improving to provide something even more enjoyable.
Speaking of reviews, I want to thank every guest reviewer and user for leaving theirs. All advice, praise, and such is so appreciated. It's really great to have more concrete ways to improve that you guys have been giving me. One user said I should pick up the Mistborn series for better fight coordination, which now I'm planning to for reference. Again, just thanks for everything.
I'm probably going to go back and touch up on some of the older chapters in terms of grammar and other kinds of editing in between this and the next one, I wanna improve as I go but I also wanna keep previous stuff readable for anyone new to it.
NEXT TIME: It seems Spider-Man's most frightful foe has made a return! And he comes with an ultimatum: WIN or DIE!