A/N: Continued thanks to Huynher for their excellent beta-ing, feedback, and general suggestions! Keep well during this whole virus thing, everyone! Hopefully a new chapter will make self-isolation a little more bearable...
I'm fine. I'm strong. I'm better than him.
Katsuki Bakugo repeated that mantra in his head as he waited to be summoned to the arena floor for his match against the Fake Midoriya. On the surface, it seemed to work; he could already feel the nerves and gut-churning sensations that had overcome him at the end of his last fight beginning to vanish. His focus had returned, and his mind was cleared of distraction. And yet, at the same time, something felt... off. He didn't know what—and he was pretty damn certain he didn't want to know—but deep in the back of his head he could still feel a strange... something gnawing at his thoughts.
Oh well. He'd figure out what it was after he won the tournament. For the moment, he had to focus on beating the Fake. Before the tournament began, Bakugo had made the mistake of underestimating the jerk; after the race, the riot ball match, and the previous matches, however, he slowly began to revise his initial assessment upwards from "worthless" to "potential challenger to be crushed". The Fake's quirk was, admittedly, pretty powerful, and meant that any strategy that involved closing in would be dangerously risky. On the other hand, the foreigner had no ranged game; like his fake brother, Casey Midoriya was nothing more than a one-trick pony who could only fight in one way. This was where Katsuki Bakugo could show his superiority: unlike his opponent, Bakugo was not limited to one method of combat and one method alone.
The more he concentrated on that advantage, the more his confidence grew to drown out the silent nagging within until he could barely recognize it. Finally, Katsuki Bakugo was back in action, ready to blow the competition away. As the clock approached the time of the match, Bakugo began to make his way to the ring entrance tunnel, his pride swelling anew with every step. Finally, he could hear the cheering of the crowd—like a grand welcoming just for him—as Present Mic began to announce the match.
"AaaallrrrrRRIGHT, EVERYBODYYYY! It's now officially semifinal time! The first match-up of the final four ought to be super-explosive, at least if this hothead is anything to go by! From Class 1-A, KATSUKI BAKUGOOOOOO!
But don't you count out his opponent just yet! This kid and his brother have both been tearin' up the charts over the course of this festival, and he's not giving up without a fight any more than his brother! Also from Class 1-A, CASEY MIDORIYAAAAAA! Now, Snipe ol' buddy, what do you think of our combatants?"
"Heh. Finally lettin' me talk f'r a spell, huh? Well, Ah'll say one thing f'r sure: this's gonna be an uphill fight f'r Midoriya, considerin' the range advantage Bakugo's got over 'im. Th' key there is that Midoriya's quirk jes' might help 'im keep from bein' launched, if he uses it right. Either way, s'gonna be one heckuva rodeo."
"Assuming I somehow correctly managed to decipher my co-host's colorful fake accent, I AGREEEE! Now without further ado, LET'S GET THIS PARTY STARTED!"
"You know," the Fake said as they waited for the match to start, "for some unexplained reason, my brother used to look up to you. Then he met me, and unlike him I wasn't fooled for a second by you. Every time you called him that name, every time you mocked him and insulted him and harassed him, I remembered it. I could rattle off a list of the absolute worst offenses, practically from memory."
Don't listen to him. He's trying to get under your skin. You've got this.
The Fake sighed and continued his irritating speech as he tapped his foot on the ground—as if Bakugo wouldn't notice that little detail. "Izuku stopped idolizing you a long time ago... and yet, somehow, he hasn't given up on you. After all you put him through over the years, evidently he thinks there's something salvageable in you."
That last part nearly set Bakugo off, but he kept his composure all the same. He's worthless. He can't beat me. Don't let him get into your head and you'll crush him.
"I don't agree, and in fact I don't think there's a thing in the world that will change my mind. As far as I'm concerned, you're way closer to being a villain than you will ever be to a hero. But out of respect for Izuku—and nothing else—I'm going to stop just short of utterly humiliating you in revenge for all you've done to my brother."
No sooner had that sentence ended—punctuated by the signal to begin the match—but the Fake shot forward, using his quirk to release the tiny bit of extra stored-up energy to help him reach his top speed faster. Any ordinary opponent would have been taken by surprise at the change in speed.
But Bakugo was no ordinary opponent. Firing off a small blast toward the ground at a low angle, Bakugo flew backwards just as fast. As he landed the rocket-assisted retreating step, however, the Fake showed up immediately to his left; the initial charge had been a feint with the intent to gain a flanking opportunity. Any ordinary opponent would have been caught by this trick as well... but again, Katsuki Bakugo was not ordinary, and the Fake arrived at his flank just in time for an exploding palm to greet him. Somehow, Casey managed to pull back just in time, landing cleanly in the ring and looking only slightly singed as he shifted into a circling pattern.
"What's the matter, Kacchan?" the Fake taunted; "You're not taking the initiative. All you're doing is reacting to me. What, afraid you'll lose if you press the attack?"
Bastard's running to build up energy and keep me from hitting him, Bakugo realized as he worked to ignore the obvious bait; he won't stop moving, even when striking. That's his whole crappy style, just nonstop motion to build up energy constantly and keep me guessing.
With that in mind, Bakugo used his quirk to temporarily go skyward, allowing himself to fall just long enough to fire off a ranged blast directly in Casey's path from above before using another blast to help soften and cover his landing. To his mild surprise, however, the Fake managed to avoid the former and jump immediately at his head to get around the latter. The punch delivered that way, powered by that annoying quirk, would end the match of any ordinary opponent.
But once again, he was no ordinary opponent.
He was Katsuki. Fucking. Bakugo. And for the first time since the finals started, he was back in his groove completely, his old invincible self again. Which meant that simply twisting out of the way of the leaping attack was exactly as simple as the subsequent double explosion delivered as the moron flew through the spot he'd been in just a fraction of a second before. The result was Casey being unceremoniously knocked out of the air. The Fake somehow managed to land in a rough roll, but now he was on the defensive as the Great Bakugo began assaulting him relentlessly.
Izuku watched from the entry hall with a worried expression. Bakugo wasn't just some unthinking brute like Casey seemed to believe. On the contrary, Izuku knew full well how genuinely cunning the explosive blonde could be in a fight. Granted, it was more of an instinctual cunning than the sort of calculated on-the-fly tactics that he and his brother practiced, but Bakugo definitely had an understanding of combat beyond simple brutality. Something had shaken that cunning to the point where it was almost gone—and Izuku was pretty sure he knew what that 'something' was—but now Bakugo was apparently back to normal. And Bakugo, when not in a mad rage, could be terrifyingly precise. Once you were on the defensive against that, all you could do was hope for an opening and hold out as best you could.
Come on, bro, you can do this. Hang in there...
Bakugo was on cloud nine as his opponent was reduced to dodges and evasions in a frantic attempt to avoid getting exploded.
"Hah! Your useless quirk can't protect you from my explosions! And as long as I stay a certain distance away from you while pressing the attack, you can't fight back without getting blown the hell away... LIKE THE TRASH YOU ARE!"
The foreign bastard leapt back from one of the explosions into a three-point landing, only to be forced to move again; a few more three-point landings seemed to confirm what Bakugo had already suspected.
He's off his balance! He's working so hard just to avoid my attacks that he needs his hands to steady him every time he jumps away!
"So I was right. You really are just a worthless bully."
The confident smirk on the Fake's face nearly shook Bakugo's resolve, but aside from abruptly shifting directions to flank the idiot he managed to resist the taunt. Unfortunately, his opponent wasn't done talking.
"This is all you know how to do, isn't it? Attack, attack, attack. But that's your problem. All you do is blow up anything in front of you. That's what villains do."
This was getting genuinely frustrating; somehow, the Fake was still managing to avoid him, and the confident, cocky tone under the taunting wasn't helping. Bakugo ramped up the intensity a bit, but continued his assault.
"Shut up! You're not getting in my head, you bastard!"
The Fake didn't even pause for a beat, picking up where he'd left off as if he hadn't even been interrupted. "Heroes—real heroes—know more than just attacking. They know how to defend, how to protect. Since when have you ever given the slightest ounce of thought about protecting anyone or anything?"
"Shut up..."
"The answer is, never! You've never given it any thought at all, because it doesn't even compute for you! Heroes aren't just crazy berserkers who blow up everything in sight!"
"SHUT UP!"
That word echoed in Bakugo's ears, finally shattering his calm.
"Shut up, loser! I'm not crazy! You hear me? I'm! Not! Crazy!"
The Fake went for another three-point landing before leaping off again. "Could've fooled me, Kacchan. No, I think you are. I think you're just another mad bomber. One of these days you're going to blow someone up for real, and you won't even care one bit—!"
Bakugo nearly managed to shut the bastard up with a massive double-handed explosion applied directly to the face when that last sentence shot through him like a bullet. He froze again, but this time the pause seemed to last an eternity as images flooded his mind unwanted.
Shattered ice and blood and brains
His head is gone, crumbling away like a bleeding snowcone
I didn't mean
I just said
I didn't mean actually—
The images that held him hostage vanished as Casey delivered a clothesline to his gut before attempting to perform a quirk-assisted hip toss. Mercifully, the images finally released Bakugo just in time to allow him to shift his weight out of the attack and grab the Fake by the neck with one hand, the other shoved an inch from his worthless nose.
"DON'T YOU SAY ONE MORE WORD, YOU WORTHLESS FUCKING BASTARD!"
He was about to let loose when the look on his opponent's face caught his eye. Gone was the confidence and condescension, replaced with something more akin to shock. Not fearful shock, but the sort of shock that comes with seeing or realizing something totally unexpected. The shock faded a bit before slowly being replaced by something else—something far worse than condescension.
No. I'm better than you. I don't need—
Out of the corner of his eye, Bakugo happened to see that same expression on a face in the crowd. And another face, and another, and another, until he realized that the entire stadium was looking at him. Not in fear, not in anger, not in condescension, but in that one thing that had driven him to near insanity in the match against the plant girl.
Pity.
"Stop it..."
The faces in the crowd seemed to almost deepen.
"Stop it! Don't you... don't you dare!"
Even the Fake had the expression full-on now.
"DON'T YOU DARE PITY ME! I DON'T NEED YOUR PITY, DAMMIT—AUGH!"
A headbutt interrupted him and sent him reeling.
"Wow... you really were shaken up by the USJ, weren't you? Is that the look I had back then? And you never did talk to Principal Nezu, I bet..."
Bakugo, still dazed from the strike, swung blindly in the direction of the talkative blurry figure who moved away with a leap. As he shook his head clear of the fog, he noticed a small pebble in the Fake's hand.
"Fun fact: when kinetic energy is stored in an object without being released—like, say, a bowstring being pulled—it's called potential energy. But all you need to do to release it is to jostle it a bit in the right way. I was hoping to save this for later, but I guess I've got no choice..."
Without another word, he flung the pebble at a spot on the ground that Bakugo only barely recognized as one of the places the Fake had made a three-point landing on before.
"Kinetic Mine."
In spite of the stated name, there was no explosion, at least not of fire; instead, it was as if the ring itself—specifically, a number of spots in the ring along a straight line from his direction, as well as a few other spots to his left and right—simply flung themselves apart violently with a loud 'CRACK' that rippled forward along the line like a freight train, sending him flying out of the ring.
Bakugo activated his quirk just in time to avoid landing out-of-bounds, and rocketed toward the ring... right into the waiting fist of his opponent.
Before he knew it, he was lying flat on his back, unable to move or think because his whole world had shattered around him.
I... am I really... weak...?
