Y'know, writing's been pretty hard for me lately. Or, rather, decent writing.

Credit to Canadaman for the name of Phoenix's "full cowl". I was having a pretty rough time thinking of something simple but definitive.

Blood cold, nerves hot, brain speeding, feet dragging.

He didn't want this. He didn't want things to go this way. He'd never wanted them to go this way –

Relax, Izuku. It's not like either of you asked for this. You're just in a prearranged match in an organized tournament. It's not some kind of divine fate.

Then, that awful, horrible last question, a single word that holds in its letters all the doubt there ever was:

…Right?

He watched his hands shake, tracing the scarred skin of his recently-broken finger with his eyes, then dropped them to grip his knees, hard.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

The wall-mounted clock didn't even need to make the sounds it was making, considering it was fully electronic. Izuku was fairly certain it had been put there solely to give him anxiety, the LEDs glaring an angry red at him from across a silent room.

He shivered. The air conditioner blasted at full power in the prep rooms, but considering how cold he already felt…

He retched. Had he eaten something bad? No, he'd eaten nothing different lately.

He clutched his stomach, doubling over, his whole body shaking.

Think, Izuku. Think, he instructed himself, trying to organize the screaming mess of his thoughts, but he could barely form a coherent sentence. The match. How is Uraraka-san going to fight?

It hit him that he had no idea how she fought aside from trying to activate her Quirk on someone and incapacitate them, and he couldn't help but feel like a terrible friend. Had he really not noticed that?

Had he even really seen her fight? Wasn't this, now her fight?

No, said a voice in his head that was his and not, some sharper other Izuku who understood Uraraka better than he did. She's been fighting for much longer than this festival.

What? he asked it. What do you mean?

"Hey, Midoriya," called Midnight's voice, and he glanced up to see the heroine leaning against the doorframe in her usual skintight costume, striking a seductive pose against the black of the hallway outside (he was pretty sure she didn't even mean to behave that way at this point; she'd been an R-rated hero so long that it was simply second nature). "You ready?"

"Oh, u-um, y-yeah," he got out, and for the first time, he experienced the purest form of stutter, his jaw clattering uncontrollably as he tried to speak and chopping the words apart like a jackhammer.

Midnight raised one penciled eyebrow, but didn't say anything further, pushing herself to a standing position with her upper arm and turning on her heel to stride from the room.

Distinctly uncomfortable, Izuku rose and made his way through the halls again, the route familiar this time, retracing the steps he'd taken before his match with Iida and finding the door to the arena in half the time.

Not that his new record made opening that door any easier. He knew what he'd find out there.

Shaking steps in summer heat led Midoriya Izuku to face Uraraka Ochako across fifty feet of painted concrete, its bleached, artificial lines putting up artificial barriers between artificial façades.

Izuku, clenching his jaw so hard he thought he'd crack a tooth, trying to keep his nerves from showing and his breakfast in his stomach.

Uraraka, looking not quite at him but rather at his shoulder with those dull eyes of hers, glassy orbs in a closed mask.

"Starting off round two of the Yuuei Academy Summer Sports Festival tourney, Midoriya Izuku versus Uraraka Ochako!" Midnight declared, and her voice sounded almost gleeful to Izuku. Did she know about their friendship…?

"Begin!"

This was it.

The sound of the audience drowned under the pounding of his heartbeat against his eardrums, his pulse tight and choking in his throat; for a moment, neither student moved, then Uraraka took a single step forward.

Swallowing hard, Izuku followed suit.

Midnight was yelling something, but he couldn't hear it – across from him, Uraraka took another step, then another, and then with no warning she'd taken off in a run, teeth bared in some feral snarl as she barreled right for him.

I don't want to fight you! his heart screamed, but his body wouldn't let that happen, throwing itself out of the way to avoid her.

He hated to admit it, but his Quirk – Quirks – were flat-out stronger than Uraraka's. Even operating at a mere five percent, One For All granted him reflexes, strength and speed far greater than the average person, assuming they lacked a physical enhancement Quirk.

Uraraka, on the other hand, didn't seem to have the same qualms about fighting as he did. He hadn't used One For All to dodge, and as a result, he was still within her reach, and so she doubled back to drive an elbow into his chest, gunning for a takedown.

Even without his Quirk, he was still stronger than her from the time he'd spent training with All Might, and likely could have thrown her off, but for whatever reason, he simply let himself fall, the nausea stronger than ever, his teeth nearly chattering out of his skull.

His eyes found her face. Her lips moved, but he couldn't hear what she was saying -

"Midoriya Izuku is down! Can you move, Midoriya?"

Midnight's shout cut through Izuku's daze and everything came rushing in – the crowd's cheers and the crowd's jeers, the heat of his face in the scorching sunlight and the way it formed a golden halo through the outer edges of her hair as he looked up at her glaring down at him, the ache of his back from the fall.

Her hand, her open palm on his chest, holding him down.

All Might, he wondered, what would you do? Had his idol, his hero – had All Might ever had to deal with anything like this? Having to fight a friend?

No, he realized. It's not just fighting a friend. I fought Iida-kun and everything was fine. It's fighting Uraraka-san that's the problem…even I can tell that she hasn't been okay lately. But what's bothering her?

Was he going to just let Uraraka take him down like this, without putting up a fight? Would he just let her win because he didn't want to hurt her?

"if I go on protecting you all the time, I'm never gonna give you any room to grow."

His own words, from the night they'd run into Stain, came back to him, and suddenly everything was crystal-clear.

I'm still protecting her. I'm still trying not to let her get hurt. But if I go down without a fight, it's not going to help – she knows I can beat her, and she'll know I didn't even try!

And so it was that Uraraka Ochako found herself sailing through the air a split second later.

Thinking quickly, she used her Quirk on herself to save her tailbone a bruising, but she was no less surprised – Izuku's hesitation had vanished in an instant, and he'd used his Quirk to both flip her off of him and spring to his feet, tracksuit scuffed, eyes burning.

"I can still move!" he shouted, not taking his eyes from her face, and his frown had turned to something closer to a snarl, whether or not he meant it to – an unfortunate trait he might have picked up from Bakugou at some point.

This is my dream. I can't keep protecting you forever, Uraraka-san. Even if it hurts, I will win this.

For the first time in over a week, the hint of a smile, a challenge, cracked open Uraraka's mask, and Izuku understood a little of what had been bothering her.

He knew a direct attack wouldn't work, but as a revolting cocktail of emotions and bile rose in his throat, he seized on the feeling, mentally rerouting it, letting the nervous, heart-pounding determination fill his limbs, his lungs, his heart.

Full Cowling.

Midoriya Izuku's hair stood on end and brilliant emerald arcs lashed through the air across his entire body.

Faster than he could remember moving before, he took off, kicking hard against the sun-scorched concrete, scarred from matches past; leap after leap brought him in and out of Uraraka's range, forcing her to try to turn and keep up with him until, finally, he flipped straight over her head as she turned to face him, drawing back his fist –

"Detroit – smash!"

He struck her squarely in the back, feeling a surge of guilt and revulsion – had he really just hit a girl? – as she let out a startled yelp, a huff of air, and was thrown forward, onto the ground, onto her stomach.

Still, she struggled back to her feet; still, she coughed and made to attack Izuku again.

Dodging this one was easy – it was as if Uraraka was a ponderous fish in slow water, and Izuku was lightning, dancing circles around her. He slipped easily to one side, then lunged forward, making to throw her from the ring and end this instead of dragging out what was sure to be a one-sided beatdown – then – then she grabbed his arm, touching five fingerpads to his skin, and he blanched.

If it had been anyone but her, this wouldn't have been particularly significant, but as Izuku felt the pull of gravity relent, he knew immediately the mistake he'd made: in trying to avoid injuring her, he'd given her a window of opportunity.

"Gotcha, Deku-kun," she whispered, so quietly that it was deafening, and then Izuku was the one flying through the air, the wind whipping his bush of a hairdo around his ears.

I'm not losing this. I can't lose this. He didn't want to come across like Bakugou, he really didn't, but he knew that their bracket would end here if she won, since she'd undoubtedly be up against Todoroki next, and he'd just freeze her solid. The only people who stood a chance against the heterochrome were himself and Bakugou…but at the same time, won't beating me give her the confidence boost she needs? he mused, then kicked himself. No. Like I decided…losing without giving it my all is the wrong way to go about this, both for myself and for Ura – for Ochako!

He'd known for a while now that Phoenix possessed its own sort of Full Cowling; he'd seen it firsthand during the sludge villain's attack, well over a year in the past now, and he hadn't even had One For All then. During the entrance exams, too, Phoenix had merged so seamlessly and wholly with his One For All-empowered punch that someone on the outside looking in would doubt that it had been two Quirks causing such destruction – and during the attack on the USJ, he had effectively used One For All at one hundred percent in a thirty-second full cowling thanks to his own Quirk. So what exactly was Phoenix's equivalent…?

As he rolled midair, he came face-to-face with the blinding sun, and he knew.

Phoenix: Radiance.

Even Uraraka couldn't hide her shock when Izuku stopped short in midair and turned to face her, still floating, wings of red-gold fire erupting from the back of his tracksuit, flaming tendrils licking at dry air.

"Uraraka-san," he called, drifting to the ground – had he finally found his voice?

She stared.

"I'm – I'm not gonna hold back just because we're friends!"

"You still think we're friends?"

Izuku didn't think he could be any colder if Todoroki Shouto had run him through with a spear made of ice, and something broke in him. His restraint, maybe. His self-control. The dam holding him back.

"Why would we be anything else!?" he screamed back. "After everything!?"

A beat. Her glare scorched like the sun.

"Why are you doing this, Uraraka-san!?"

He knew he was crying, but he didn't care.

"We can't help you if you just run away from whatever's bothering you!"

"I'm not running away!" Uraraka exploded, teardrops etching lines of fury over her round cheeks. "I'm – I'm just – "

"Stop it!"

Still weightless, Izuku shot forward like a missile under the influence of his Quirk, colliding hard with Uraraka and knocking them both to the ground, where she lay still, glaring at him.

"It hurts, Uraraka-san," he whispered.

She couldn't say definitively how she felt, how she was feeling; she wasn't even entirely sure why she'd been avoiding him, other than that day – at first, it had been embarrassment: how was she supposed to face him after half a kiss that he hadn't even addressed? Later on, she'd figured that perhaps he'd simply been stunned – it was a very Deku thing to be, really – but by then she'd already sunken into the pit she hadn't even tried to claw her way out of, stewing in her own feelings of ineptitude and worthlessness and fear.

I don't want to be around you because I'm afraid I'll find myself depending on you, she thought, gaze boring into his, willing him to understand, to do something – anything – anything other than sit there and cry, don't cry, please don't cry, I'm sorry, I –

Her head hurt. Her heart hurt. Why him? Why now? she wondered; it seemed fate had been especially cruel today.

"I understand if you're hurt because of your parents, Uraraka-san," Izuku started, cutting into her thoughts. "But I – "

"My parents are alive."

"…You never told me."

"I know," she whispered back – why were they whispering? It wasn't like the crowd could have heard them even if they'd shouted, but something about this moment felt too intimate for anything else.

"Why?" – and one of his tears dripped onto her own cheek, scraped from a faceplant, and the pain vanished.

Phoenix tears, she thought. She almost smiled. "Because. You said it yourself, I can't grow if you're protectin' me, Deku-kun."

"That doesn't mean you have to just throw everything away! Or shove the rest of the class away, too!"

"I know, but – "

"But what, Uraraka-san? Were you just going to pretend none of this happened when you finally got strong enough for yourself? You're hurting all of us. It's like Kirishima-kun told me…we're in this for the long haul. We have to look out for each other."

She didn't respond.

She knew what she was doing wasn't helping anything – it was hurting her, it was hurting her friends, it was hurting him, and maybe him worst of all. Sure, she'd been angry enough to ask Aizawa (who Izuku had once suggested had a soft spot for students whose Quirks weren't explicitly suited to combat) to teach her a thing or two about close quarters fighting, and it had helped her confidence a little, knowing she could defend herself to an extent – but after that, had she simply been planning to go through her classes and her life by herself, after finally finding a place she could belong…?

"We're still not friends," she said, abruptly, and she could have sworn Izuku stopped breathing.

"We're best friends."

"…That was cheesy, Uraraka-san."

"That's Ochako to you." A pause. "…I'm sorry, Izukkun."

"It appears both contestants have become unable to move!" Midnight declared. "Could this be a tie!?"

Oh, darn it! "Let's save the talk for later, yeah? We still have to finish the match," she pointed out.

"Oh…oh, yeah. Um. Okay. Um, do you wanna – "

"Gimme everything you got, Deku-kun!"

For the first time in over a week, there was life in her eyes, and he shot her a sharp grin through the tears.

Without another word, he helped her to her feet, then leapt back, controlling his flight with some difficulty; he was still having a hard time properly using Phoenix, and the longer he kept these wings active, the less control he found himself able to exercise over them, and the more they started to…burn?

"Are you sure about that, Uraraka-san?" he called.

"Yep!"

I have to end this quickly, thought Izuku, clenching both fists; Uraraka hadn't released her Quirk's effects yet, and he had a sinking feeling he was going to lose his air control once his wings went out.

But what can I do?

Optimally, he'd be able to simply throw her from the ring with one hit…but he didn't have the strength to do that with just five percent of One For All, and he didn't want to use one hundred percent; he had to save that for the fight against Todoroki…

Then the wings at his back burned his shoulders and he understood.

Taking a step back and bracing his legs, he diverted all of his focus into the wings, drawing them back as if to flap them, then began channeling as much of One For All as he could through his back, feeling his shoulderblades scream in agony, but as they weren't directly exerting the force, simply serving as a conduit, they didn't break, didn't shatter, and the flaming wings began to ripple, crackle, shudder with emerald lightning –

"Phoenix…Smash!"

In an office somewhere, Yuuei's principal gave a man called Toshinori Yagi a light jab on the knee, chuckling. "He even picked up your habit of naming his moves after American cities."

Toshinori groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Back on the field, Uraraka had to admit she absolutely hadn't been prepared for this – when Izuku had stepped forward again, the wings at his back had moved, smoothly and slowly, and a hot, crackling wave of air had surged forward at unbelievable speed, lifting her off of her feet and blasting her out of the ring as if she weighed no more than a feather.

"And the winner of the first match of round two is Midoriya Izuku!"

Midoriya Izuku, who staggered and fell to the ground not a second later.

…I did it.

"You really did a number on yourself out there," scolded a voice that reeked of age, accompanied by a more literal smell of antiseptic and plums.

"Mmh."

"Second-degree burns on each shoulder blade, and bruising underneath that. I've done what I could, but using my Quirk to heal you is out of the question for right now. You're out of energy."

With a groan, Izuku raised his head from his pillow; he'd been placed on his stomach on a sterile white bedspread, hospital corners tucked neatly at the headboard and foot, and his tracksuit had been removed – he still had his underwear, but over that, all he wore was a thin hospital gown.

"Where are my clothes?" he mumbled, and Recovery Girl waggled a finger over her shoulder, scrawling something on a clipboard.

"Your tracksuit was burned right through at the shoulders. Support's sending up a new one."

"Is Uraraka-san okay?"

"Deku-kun!"

"Does that answer your question?" Recovery Girl deadpanned, glancing over her shoulder at the brunette, who'd just hurtled into the room without so much as acknowledging Yuuei's resident nurse and who had flown directly to Izuku's side, staring at him with those wide brown eyes of hers.

"Um, yeah. Hey, Uraraka-san," he added, much more quietly. "I'm sorry about that."

"It's fine," she shrugged, smiling a rueful little smile, and Izuku knew she wasn't done hurting, but at least she'd let him in, and that was a start. "I told you to gimme everything you got, yeah? I just, um, wasn't expecting you to be able to do that."

"I wasn't either," he admitted, shifting on the bedsheets; the movement pulled the back of the gown open, and the color drained from her face.

"Uh, Deku-kun, what happened to your back?"

"Huh?"

She pointed, and he twisted his head around to see, but was only able to glimpse the edge of a sick red-and-yellow stain on the otherwise clean bandages that had been wrapped around his torso; what visible flesh there was on his upper back was bruised purple, and as two fingers reached up to probe the dark flesh, he winced.

"My best guess is that his Quirk caused those injuries," Recovery Girl put in, from where she still scribbled on her clipboard, her tiny form hunched on an upholstered stool taller than she was. "A pair of flaming wings and second-degree burns on the shoulder seems to match up nicely, hmm?"

"Um, what's the yellow stuff?" Uraraka asked, innocently –

"Pus" came the curt reply.

Izuku thought his friend might be sick.

Still, she stayed by his side, and after Recovery Girl stepped out, Uraraka switched on the television, which was already tuned to the sports festival. The feed was unmistakably the next match, Kirishima versus Todoroki, and it was apparent who would win: though Kirishima had the tools to punch through Todoroki's ice, it was costing him far more energy than it took Todoroki to send up each ice wall, and after a few minutes, the redhead simply dropped to one knee, admitting defeat.

Todoroki hadn't moved an inch.

"He's pretty scary," Uraraka commented; Izuku stared at her hand, soft and pink and perfect on the sheet next to his face, and resisted the urge to take it in his own callused one.

"Yeah" was all he could manage in reply.

"You know you're up against him next, right, Izukkun?" she murmured, gaze dropping to her shoes, and Izuku nodded, Present Mic's voice small and distant from the screen.

"I know."

For once, he was at a total loss for words, and silence fell between them, though he was unable to tell what sort; did it blanket them, warm and comforting, or was it a chill void? - then she moved her hand a fraction of an inch to lace her fingers with his and he had his answer.

The air conditioner hummed overhead.

"Ochako?"

"What's up?"

He squeezed her hand and whispered:

"Don't leave like that again."

The hand squeezed back.

"I won't."

Bakugou's match against Sero was less of a match than a figurative bloodbath as the poor Tape user tried his best to keep up with the explosive blonde's fury and simply couldn't.

"That was rough," Izuku murmured, watching the bruised and battered Sero tossed from the ring like a ragdoll, and Uraraka hummed agreement.

The final match of the second round was equally mismatched: Tokoyami versus Yaoyorozu. Unfortunately for Yaoyorozu, Tokoyami's Quirk essentially turned the one-on-one into a two-on-one, and no matter what she manufactured with her Quirk, Dark Shadow was always on top of her, swatting aside weapons and slamming its inky bulk into the steel bulwark she'd strapped to her arm in an attempt to protect herself.

Slowly, inch by inch, foot by foot, Yaoyorozu Momo was pushed backwards out of the ring by Dark Shadow, while Tokoyami Fumikage himself didn't move for the entire match.

"Y'know," Uraraka commented between chews of some snack they were sharing (Izuku wasn't familiar with it, but it tasted faintly of lime), "Yuuei's really skewed toward combat Quirks. If you don't have one, you gotta either find a way to work with what you got, or just give up entirely. Some Quirks just ain't cut out for hero work."

"Mm. That's what would have happened to me if I'd inherited my mom's Quirk, I think."

"Oh! What's her Quirk?" Uraraka turned to him with her eyes wide, blinking innocently; Izuku swallowed his food and chuckled, looking at his own hand.

"Attraction of small objects. I used to sit on the couch and spend hours just trying to get the remote to come to me," he sighed, studying the knuckles, the fingers, the scars. "But it never worked. I spent most of my life thinking I was Quirkless because mine didn't manifest until I nearly got killed a couple years ago."

"Wait!" she piped up, sitting up straighter. "It was a guy with a sludge type Quirk, right?"

"Um, yeah. You saw that?"

"Yeah! I just…didn't really connect the dots until now. That was you?"

"Yeah. I met All Might later that evening and he told me that I might actually be able to get into Yuuei."

"Wow…that's incredible, Deku-kun. And scary," she added, as an afterthought, and he laughed out loud.

"Yeah. I thought I was gonna die."

Arms, kind and warm and very much Uraraka, wrapped themselves gently around his waist, and the next thing he knew he found his friend's face inches from his own, her cheek squished against the pillow and her expression softer than the bedsheets. A fiery blush to rival the lighter burns on his back raced up Izuku's face, but if she noticed, she didn't say a word.

"I'm glad you didn't, Izukkun."

A beat.

"I…I know things aren't gonna be the same," she began, "well, not right off the bat, anyway – "

"What do you mean?"

"Well…I mean, I've been givin' you the cold shoulder for a week. Are we just gonna pretend that didn't happen?"

"I'm just glad it's over, Uraraka-san."

An ancient, dry rasp of a laugh broke into the room and their moment and Uraraka sat up sharply, glowing like the setting sun.

"Alright, lovebirds. I have to heal Midoriya before his next match," Recovery Girl announced, shuffling over to the bed.

"We're not – " then he stiffened and let out an involuntary shriek as the elderly nurse's lips extended like a proboscis and planted a sloppy, grandmotherly, and altogether unpleasant kiss on his back; within seconds, her Quirk erased the pain and burning, and after a minute, his back had healed entirely, the burns nothing more than faint scars and his skin back to its usual, not-purple color.

"All done. Now, you're up against Endeavor's son next, so you better stay sharp out there, you hear?" Recovery Girl instructed sternly, and Izuku pushed himself off of the bed, nodding.

"Ah, yes, ma'am." …Wait, what!?

"Good. Here's your new tracksuit." She patted a wrapped lump of paper on the counter, and he reached for it, slipping the gown off without stopping to consider that Uraraka was still in the room.

"D-Deku-kun!?"

He glanced up and found her practically steaming at the ears, and it took him a moment to understand why.

"I'm sorry, Uraraka-san! I wasn't – uh – Uraraka-san!?"

Recovery Girl's cackles followed the poor girl out of the ward as she made a dash for the safety of lands free of shirtless Midoriya Izukus.

He wished he'd had a chance to talk to Uraraka one more time before heading down to the ring, but she'd most likely headed up to 1-A's box to watch alongside the other students who'd been disqualified.

…Recovery Girl called Todoroki-kun "Endeavor's son"…was she serious? If he's Endeavor's son, why would he only use ice…?

Then he remembered what Todoroki had told him before the festival.

"I won't lose to someone with a fire Quirk."

"Todoroki-kun…I wonder why he doesn't like fire?"

He didn't realize he'd spoken aloud until another voice answered him, aggressive and powerful, unquestionably masculine and in charge:

"He's in his rebellious phase. He'll come to accept it someday."

Izuku jumped.

The man who strode out to meet him at the cross of two hallways burned with flame, hellish crimson fire that spoke not of evil but of penance. "You're Midoriya," the man went on, ignoring the way he'd startled Izuku. "I've had my eye on you. Your Quirk is called Phoenix, correct?"

"Ah, um, yes, sir," the other stammered out, blinking wide green eyes. "How'd you – wait, you're Endeavor!"

"Hmph." – but the hint of a smile crossed the man's face nonetheless; was he pleased at being recognized, or something else? "You're up against my son next. I'm interested to see how this match will play out."

"Why?" Izuku blurted, then flushed, feeling like he'd been disrespectful; to his relief, it didn't seem to bother the number two hero, who dipped his head, acknowledging Izuku's question.

"Shouto does not wish to use my Quirk. He does not believe it suits him, and he does not wish to become like me. I daresay right now he believes he hates me."

"But why wouldn't he wanna be like you?" Izuku was puzzled. "You're the number two hero…"

"Would Midoriya Izuku please report to the preparation room for his match?"

Midnight's voice, sultry as ever and tinged this time with irritation, crackled out of the yellowed speaker at the ceiling, and Izuku blanched – the fact that she hadn't said Todoroki's name alerted him to the fact that he was running late. "I'd go if I were you," rumbled Endeavor, and Izuku noted that the hero hadn't actually answered his question. "You don't want to keep that one waiting. She'll tear you to pieces."

"Ah, y-yes, sir."

Endeavor watched him go.

The hallway, its walls painted a fading gray-blue, seemed to Izuku to flash by as he jogged along, rows of fluorescent lights bathing the limits of his world in their cold white flicker; he hurried down two flights of stairs nestled in dark stairwells, then emerged back out into the overly air-conditioned bright gloom of an identical hall. Really, he sighed, internally – where do all of these hallways go?

Still, he found his way to the prep room in due time, only to find Midnight awaiting him in quite possibly the least decent pose she'd struck yet: supine across the table, one heel on the edge, the other on the floor.

"You're late, Midoriya," she drawled, sitting up, but her legs stayed in that uncomfortable vee-shape. "What kept you?"

"Ah, um, I'm sorry. I ran into Endeavor, and – "

"Oh, yeah. He's here. Forgot about that one."

To his surprise, Midnight didn't seem too thrilled to hear about his encounter.

"Is he here to pretend he cares again?" the R-Rated Hero sighed, rolling her eyes; against her eyeliner, the effect was striking. "Mmm. Well, that's none of my business any longer, I suppose. I've gotta head out and make the announcement, so I'll see you on the field."

Izuku moved to let her pass, head buzzing now – what's up with Todoroki-kun and Endeavor? – but just before she reached the door, Midnight stopped dead, glancing at him over her shoulder.

"Oh, and Midoriya?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't be too hard on Shouto. Whether you wanna believe me or not, he's had it pretty rough."

Shouto? Why is she calling him by his given name…?

And then she was gone, leaving more questions behind her than he'd had with him when he entered the room.

"Uraraka-san," Kaminari greeted her, as, cotton candy in hand, she plopped down in the open seat between him and Jirou (Jirou, who pouted silently with her arms crossed, and Ochako didn't have to reach far to figure out why; there was a distinct red mark on Kaminari's forehead, resembling that left by a sharp jab from a small point). "Um, hey."

"Hey!" she chirped back, without thinking, and quite suddenly, the members of class 1-A in the box had all crowded around her. It took her a moment to figure out why – she'd been avoiding them for the past week, and they were understandably shocked to see her in better spirits. "Um, sorry for – "

"Ochako-chan!"

With zero warning whatsoever, Mina, Tooru, and Momo threw themselves at her, all hugging her at once, and Kaminari yelped from her right; evidently, Jirou had jabbed him again to prevent him getting too good a look at Mina's left thigh.

"Ochako-chan I'm so glad you're feeling better did you two kiss oh my god I saw what happened out there – " Mina, always the gossip.

"Aaaah – aaaaah!" Wordless squeals from Tooru.

"Ah, Ochako-san…it's good to have you back," Momo murmured, expression kind. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about what was going on."

"Hey, Midoriya – " Kaminari started up, but for the third time, Jirou delivered a well-aimed jab, this time to the ear, and the blonde let out a yelp before Kirishima tackled him over the back of his seat.

"Midoriya-kun told us that in confidence!" the redhead hissed. "You don't go blurting that out!"

"…Thanks, Mina-chan, Tooru-chan, Yaomomo." A small, soft smile found its way to her lips, and she looked up, meeting Mina's eyes. "And no, we didn't – "

Kiss!?

"Wow, it didn't take much to get her this time, huh?" Mina commented, hand on her hip; above her, Ochako floated upside-down like a blushing balloon.

"Mina, be nice!" whined Tooru, and it was safe to assume she was pouting, even if she was invisible. By the time Ochako recovered, she'd noticed the distinct absence of a certain friend, and when she asked, the invisible girl's sleeves rippled in a shrug. "Iida-kun? Um, I think he left early."

"Iida-kun left early?" Ochako repeated, incredulous. "And Aizawa-sensei let him go?"

"Yeah, he said it was important."

"Match one of the semifinals, Midoriya Izuku versus Todoroki Shouto!"

"Guys!" Kaminari hissed; he and Kirishima had both gotten up and now hung out of the box, staring wide-eyed at the field. "Can ya keep it down? We're tryin' to watch here."

"The match literally just started!" Tooru shrieked; Ochako was fairly certain the girl next to her shot them a dirty look, but for what could have plausibly been the hundredth time, it occurred to her that she had absolutely no idea what Tooru was actually doing.

Heading to the edge of the box herself, she sighed; from up here, it was a little hard to tell what exactly was going on, but –

"Is Midoriya just…standing there?" Kirishima wondered aloud. "Why aren't they moving? Even Todoroki hasn't attacked again."

"Something's wrong," Ojirou cut in, voice unexpectedly sudden and present. "I don't think they're just standing there."

Ochako squinted – I really need glasses, she'd remember thinking later – and her blood temperature plummeted like a stone from the sky.

Jutting from Izuku's back – and she realized now that he wasn't slouching, he was limp – was a jagged, long edge of ice, dripping scarlet, and even as she watched, more of that liquid life pulsed out, in time with what she recognized from falling asleep together as his heartbeat. Before she knew it, she'd screamed.

"Izukkun!"

The cotton candy lay forgotten on the floor.