Author's Note. Listen to the Steve Aoki remix of Mic Drop while you read this. Please & Thank you ;D

The look in her eyes pissed me off. This girl was looking for a fight. "Deku, go home," I said, pulling him away from her grasp and standing in front of him.

"Kacchan," he warned.

Dammit. I knew that tone. Don't do anything stupid. I glared down at the girl. "Whadda you want with Deku?" I snarled.

"We were just dancing," Deku insisted, pulling on my shirt cuff. "Let's go meet back up with the others."

She smirked at me. "You should listen to him. Wouldn't wanna get yourself disqualified from competing tomorrow."

I breathed in sharply. The hell? "What did you do to him?"

Deku pulled my shirt cuff again. "Nothing, Kaachan. Really. I'm fine. Let's just go."

"I didn't ask you," I snapped, not breaking away my gaze.

I heard footsteps and felt a hand on my shoulder. "Is everything okay over here, man?" Kirishima asked. I felt his gaze darting between the two of us, trying to evaluate the situation.

"What's going on?" Sero asked as he made his way over with Mina.

She snickered. "It's sweet how your boyfriends jump to your defense," she commented snidely. "Good thing they're here to protect you. You won't be able to rely on them during the festival."

I snarled at her. "I don't know who you think you're talking to, Cotton Candy but - "

" - Katsuki Bakugo," she cut me off. "One of the big three of Class 2-A, and a guy who needs an entourage just to stay in one piece."

I threw a punch in her direction but she dodged it, ending up behind me with her fists raised.

"Kacchan, don't!" Deku warned. "We have our provisional licenses but we can't use our quirks against civilians!"

"Shut up, Nerd!" I exclaimed. "I know!" But that didn't mean I couldn't use good old-fashioned hand-to-hand combat.

"Don't let her get to you! She's trying to provoke you into fighting her!" Mina yelled at me.

By this point everyone was staring at us as we circled around each other, not breaking away our gazes for a second. A song by some Korean boy band started to play.

"I won't hurt her that bad," I insisted. "Just enough to wipe that stupid smirk off her face."

I threw another punch, but once again she dodged it with a backward flip, rolling on the floor to end up behind me. I leaped into the air and changed my trajectory to face her. We continued on like that for several minutes. I hit most of my marks but my timing was still off. It was almost as if…

She's predicting all my moves. How is that possible? She had a counter move for every punch I threw at her, even when I changed up my fight patterns. But she hadn't managed to lay a finger on me, either.

"Come on, Bakugo! You're gonna get us kicked out!" Kaminari cried out.

I karate-kicked straight up, aiming for her face but she jumped in the air and somersaulted over my head.

I raised my hand, palm open but froze when I remembered. I could've taken her out with one blast or an AP shot but I couldn't use my quirk here. Crap!

She landed on my chest, forcing me to fall backwards. Then she had me pinned, her arm pressing down my face.

She was fast, I'd give her that. But she wasn't faster than me. I threw a feint punch with my left hand and grabbed her shirt with my right. Finally, I had her trapped. I rolled over and slammed her down into the ground, pinning her with my hand around her throat. I held her down with enough force to keep her still but not enough to cut off her air supply.

"What the hell is your problem?!" I growled at her.

"You are," she spat, jamming her knee into my stomach and landing a punch to my face.

Dammit! I coughed up some of my melon soda as I struggled to breathe. I took in enough air to growl, and lunged for her again, but this time something held me back.

When I turned to look, Kirishima and Deku were grabbing my arms. "That's enough," Kirishima warned.

"You think I can't beat the crap outta some stupid first-year?" I snapped hoarsely.

"I know you can," Deku replied, gazing at me firmly. "That's why this needs to stop."

I growled at them, but they were right. Aizawa's words rang in my mind. Another altercation like the ground beta incident wouldn't look good on your record. Don't do anything to jeopardize your ability to participate.

"I've never seen someone keep up with you for that long," Jiro commented.

It was unsettling. There was only one person who'd been able to pass me like that. And he'd studied me since we were kids.

Who the hell was this girl?

"It's like they were dancing," Mina commented back.

"Yeah, it did look like that," Kaminari agreed. "She even used Bakugo's old moves."

I thought back to the day in class last year, right after we'd gotten back from our internships. Once Deku figured out how to maintain the use of One For All continuously at five percent, he shot and ran through the air just like me.

The journals he always scribbled in. The notes he took. No doubt he had countless pages about me. He knew my moves because he'd studied me. Broken down my moves. My combat style.

When I threw punches and kicks at this girl...when she kept dodging my attacks...it reminded me of that night at Ground Beta. It felt like I was fighting Deku.

This girl had studied me. Memorized my tendencies. The way I think. My reaction time.

That was when I knew.

"It's you, isn't it?" I growled at her. "The first-year who's tryna go up against the second-years."

"You're smarter than you look," she declared condescendingly. "It's a shame you couldn't control your temper. I might've asked you to dance."

"Tch. Like I'd ever dance with you."

Finally, the smirk on her face disappeared. But it was replaced with a darkness that reminded me of the villains who'd kidnapped me.

She looked up at me, our faces inches apart, and muttered under her breath, "You already are."

~.~

"Cut that out, Deku," I grumbled.

He gently dabbed at my face with rubbing alcohol before attaching a square-shaped bandage to my face with medical tape. "Hopefully this won't bruise too badly."

"Seriously, I've had worse," I insisted, trying to bat away his hand.

But the damn nerd wasn't taking no for an answer. "I wanted to fight her too, after I saw her hurt you like that," he mumbled.

I grinned. "As if I'd let you," I pointed out. "What, you think I can't fight my own battles?"

"Not to defend you," he muttered quietly, as if he were embarrassed. "She made me angry."

I raised an eyebrow at him. That's right. I'm not the only one known to pick fights. Aizawa doesn't call him the problem-child for nothing. "Just because I jumped into a fight, doesn't mean you have to."

"Yes it does," Deku insisted with a stubborn gaze. "What kind of hero would I be if I just stood by and let someone get hurt?"

The sludge villain incident came to mind.

"KACCHAN!"

"WHAT THE HELL?! WHY ARE YOU HERE?!"

"I DON'T KNOW! MY LEGS! THEY JUST STARTED...MOVING!"

The look on his face. The tears in his eyes as he clawed at the black sludge trying to steal my body.

"KACCHAN! I COULDN'T JUST STAND THERE AND WATCH YOU DIE!"

I winced. He hasn't changed one bit since then. But he better not hold back tomorrow. "What are you gonna do if we have to fight each other in the duels?" I pointed out.

He didn't hesitate. With a wide smile, he replied, "I'll beat you."

~.~

I mulled over my fight with Bakugo while I took a shower. The screeching hot water burned the places on my skin where bruises were starting to form. I'd worked to get a rise out of him in the hopes I could evaluate how his combat style has changed since last year. His reflexes were much faster. He was also smarter than I gave him credit for. In a split second, he anticipated my counterattacks and adapted accordingly. His fighting style has evolved. He's more agile. More calculated.

Still...I'd held my own. I felt much better about my chances. Then there was the matter of my request. Not only had I been granted permission to participate with the second-years, I was presented with an opportunity.

I replayed my meeting with Principal Nezu, Mr. Aizawa and my homeroom teacher Present Mic from that morning.

"It goes without saying your chances of victory under these circumstances aren't very high,'" Principal Nezu admitted. "But if you perform better than the second-years, it's a very real possibility that you could win the whole festival."

"It would be embarrassing for the instructors," Aizawa admitted. "But if a first-year manages to pull ahead of every last upperclassman, they'd more than earn their spot."

"So here's what I propose," Principal Nezu continued. "If you win, we'll enroll you in the seconds-years' hero course. You'd get your pick of who to replace."

"However, it would be foolish to expel a student with promise," Present Mic pointed out. "So whoever you choose to boot out will take your spot in my class."

"The equivalent of being held back a year," Aizawa clarified.

I could accept those circumstances. If I surpass Bakugo, then I can graduate sooner and lay down roots before he does. It would allow me to make things harder for him to establish himself as a hero after he graduates. "Thank you."

"One more thing." Principal Nezu stood up and walked over to me. "We understand that due to your lack of experience, you're at a disadvantage, so we've agreed to allow you one support item."

Present Mic flushed awkwardly. "Sorry, we're telling you this so close to the festival. It's not really a lot of time to consider what sort of - "

" - I have a design ready." I pulled out one of my sketchbooks and turned to the page with the blueprints. "I'd wear it on my arm. It would hold water that I could drink from when I'm feeling faint or dehydrated."

"Huh?" Present Mic asked, scratching his head. "Your support item is...a thermos?"

"More than that. It's lightweight, temperature-controlled and made of a fire-resistant fabric. It also has a device installed on the inside that captures and filters moisture from the air, so I don't have to worry about my water supply running empty."

"That's very clever," Aizawa remarked, clearly impressed. "I'm not sure why being hydrated is your primary concern, but I'll trust your judgment."

Present Mic took my drawing. "I'll get this down to the Support workshop right away."

"I wish you the best of luck, my dear," Principal Nezu declared with a warm smile. "And don't forget to have fun!"

~.~

The next morning, I slipped into my gym uniform and locked up my dorm room before heading out for the Arena. Waiting for me in the elevator, was Mr. Aizawa.

"Oh. Hey, Sensei," I said, brushing my hair behind my ear nervously.

"That's a nasty bruise," Aizawa remarked, eyeing my neck with scrutiny. "Wherever would you get something like that?"

I stiffened, recalling the feeling of Bakugo's callused palm pressing down on me the night before. "I...fell…"

"Uh-huh," Aizawa muttered, clearly unconvinced. "Right into someone's hand, I bet."

I flushed, pulling my collar up so it covered more of my neck. Dammit. "So uh...what brings you to the first years' wing?"

"It came just in time," he said. From behind his back, he held out my support item.

I gawked at it in awe. The design I'd had in my head for over a year was suddenly a tangible, functional thing. And it was mine.

Aizawa chuckled. "I had the same face the first time I saw my capture-scarf." He held it out to me.

Gingerly, I reached for it and held it in my palms, testing the weight of it.

"You didn't specify what colors you wanted, so the techies took creative liberty."

It was a hot pink-black ombre color that had gold flecks that glistened under the light. I loved it. It already felt like a part of me. Even before I strapped it to my forearm.

"I don't understand why you need to do this," Aizawa said, making me glance up. "But whatever the reason... just do your best. If you do that, then it won't matter if you win or lose."

Once again, I tried to picture what my father would be feeling if he were here with me. Would he be trying to talk me out of this, like my mom? Or cheering me on, like Principal Nezu? Or assuring me that no matter the end result I'd feel good about myself if I gave it my all, like Mr. Aizawa?

If my dad hadn't been killed by that explosion...maybe I'd know. But I never would, so it was pointless to wonder.

My jaw clenched as I pressed the button for the ground floor. No. Failure wasn't an option.

"Tell me...what kind of hero do you want to be?"

I know now, Midoriya-senpai. I want to be the kind of hero that isn't afraid. That won't happen while Bakugo stands in my way.

But last night's events complicated things. I hadn't expected him to have a significant other. He really seemed to care about his boyfriend. He'd been scared I'd done something to hurt him. Bakugo didn't hesitate to jump in front of Midoriya-senpai to protect him. I never thought he'd be dating anyone. Especially not a person as kind as Midoriya-senpai. I hope he isn't upset with me after this.

I turned the switch that activated my support item. But that's what you said, isn't it? No hard feelings?