Disclaimer: Neither I or bunnyscribe own Mob Psycho 100 or My Hero Academia

Shigeo Kageyama: Origin (Part 2)

By: bunnyscribe (AO3)

Eighty-six.

After the fight, things seem to go by in a haze. Mob knows he gets patched up by Recovery Girl. Even after he leaves, he can feel her lips against his cheek and the gentle nudge of vitamin gummies into his hand, the metallic wrapping crunching beneath his fingers as he curls his fingers into a fist. She talks to him, he knows she does, and he knows he talks back, a "Thank you" maybe.

His brain feels it's been coated in a thick fog though and before he knows it, he's walking down an empty hallway.

His first instinct is panic. He thinks about the fuzzy feeling in his head when he was brainwashed, the feeling of his feet moving without him thinking about it, and his chest gets tighter.

His feet stop moving. He finds himself standing in front of the doors to the preparation room that he had went to with Ojiro just before his first match. He stares at it, carefully lifts up his hand, and opens it.

There's no one there.

Something easy and gentle sits on top of all the other feelings building inside him, a sense of relief, but even that feels like too much.

He sits down in one of the chairs, back ramrod straight and body tense. He lifts up his hands to put them on the table and finds them shaking. He tries to take a deep breath, tries to think about better things and break through his cloudy headedness. Texting Midoriya, Uraraka's smile, takoyaki with Master Reigen.

Master Reigen.

His head snaps up with alarming speed, and the world spins as he tries to catch up with the fact that he didn't even realize it was rolling forward.

Master Reigen would've been watching the fight, wouldn't he? He said he would and he's never broken his word before.

His stomach drops down to his feet, blood going cold in his veins. Would his master be proud of what he did?

He had hurt someone, he was able to hurt someone without even using his quirk. He had done it without even thinking about it.

He can still Shinsou's face, grimacing up at him. He had been covered in Mob's shadow as he stood over him, the loser, the pain in his expression clear as day.

Mob stands abruptly, breaths coming out in quick bursts. He moves mechanically towards where he knows he left his bag, pulling it out from underneath the bench, and then digs through it until he finds what he's looking for.

His cellphone seems too bright and cheerful compared to everything else that's been happening today. All Might's colorful palette, his stars, and stripes, everything that invokes the image of what a true hero should be.

Mob flips it open, opens his contacts. He hesitates when he sees Midoriya's name in them, glancing over at the door like he expects the other boy to be summoned by the thought of his name. The door stays closed, however, and Mob presses the call button.

The phone only rings twice before someone picks up.

"Oi, Mob," Reigen says, sounding unconcerned. "About time you called."

His voice is so calm that Mob can almost feel like it's an ordinary day. Like maybe hero training at the end of the day ran over, and maybe Mob was just late to work, and maybe all he has to do is get changed and head over. But it isn't and somehow the realization of that only makes it worse.

"Master…" Mob says after a moment, face twitching. "I...The fight…"

"Yeah, I saw," Reigen says.

The line goes silent for a breath. Reigen sighs.

"I'm sorry Mob," he says suddenly. "That looked like it was really rough. I'm sorry you had to do that."

Something in Mob's chest clenches, his breath stuttering. "I-"

"I don't know what I was thinking," Reigen says. "I just...I guess I thought, with everything that happened-I don't know. I'm sorry though."

"Master, I don't understand," Mob says. "Why are you apologizing?"

A beat. "That wasn't something you should have had to do," Reigen says. "I know confrontation is hard for you, and I still encouraged you to go to a school that almost endorses it." There's some shuffling on the other end of line, a clicking sound, and when his voice speaks again, it's muffled. "I pushed you too far, and as your master, I should've known that."

"I-Master, I-" Mob says, desperately trying to find the words to explain himself. "I just-"

"If you want to quit, Mob, that's ok," Reigen says, and any train of thought Mob was building is immediately derailed. "We can figure out something else to help manage your quirk, we'll go back to our normal routine, find someone else to train you, I don't know-"

"Master Reigen," Mob says, sharp enough that it stops Reigen mid-ramble.

"...Yeah?"

Mob takes a deep breath. "I don't want anyone else to train me," he says first, because that's what feels the most important. "And I don't regret coming here."

It doesn't fully register until he says it, but once he does the information slots neatly into place. As hard as his time at U.A. has been, he likes all of his new friends. The idea of never having met them strikes an uncomfortable cord within him, he only doesn't get why they all have to hurt each other. He doesn't understand what cause they have to prove themselves worthy for while they're all just students.

Reigen hums. "...Alright then," he says eventually. "Then what do you want to do next?"

The question hits like a blow, striking down whatever confidence that Mob had been gaining. "I don't know," he says. "I just want-"

Mob finds he wants a lot of things at the moment when he thinks about it, a lot of them conflicting. He wants to go home, he wants to stay. He wants to see Midoriya and all his friends, but he also doesn't want to see them. He wants to stay at U.A., but he doesn't want to have to hurt people to do so.

"I want to stop this," is what he settles for.

"Yeah?" Reigen says after he doesn't elaborate. "What's that?"

"I want to stop all of us fighting," Mob says. "I want to stop all my friends from getting hurt." He pauses. "I want them to know why I don't like them being hurt."

Reigen clicks his tongue. "You're real mature Mob, you know that?"

Mob blinks. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing, nothing," Reigen says, and Mob can almost picture him brushing the statement off with a wave of his hand. "Anyway, so what you're saying is you want to talk to your friends right? Tell them what you think?"

Mob's face pinches up, "I guess?"

"I think it'll be a good starting point at least," Reigen says. "You can't stop your friends from doing what they're doing right now, it's not good to dwell on it. All you can do is talk to them and hope they listen to you."

"...What do I do if they don't listen?"

"That's up to you," Reigen says. "I don't know your friends that well. But Mob, listen. Remember what I told you? You've got charm."

"I've got charm," Mob repeats, voice monotone.

"That's right," Reigen says. "You're strong, not cause of your quirk, but emotionally! And if your friends can't tell the difference, then that's on them. You just have to do your best to lead by example."

Mob opens his mouth, not sure what to say next, when the sound of a large explosion rings out throughout the room, shaking it. Mob grabs onto a nearby chair, looking around for the source. "What was that?" he asks.

"Ahhh," Reigen says. "That's probably what's happening outside. Your friends are out having their match right now, that blond kid and the one with the rosy cheeks?"

"Uraraka," Mob breaths.

"Yeah, that's the one," Reigen says. "She pulled off a, well, a kinda cool stunt to try and win the fight. It looks like she's down now though."

"Is she hurt?" Mob asks immediately, already starting to hurry towards the door.

"Oh," Reigen says, "oh no, she's fine. Just a little worn down I think. She'll be ok."

Mob pauses, hand on the knob. "Master," he says quietly.

"Hmmm?"

"Am I doing the right thing?"

"...Where'd that come from?"

Mob takes a shallow breath, staring blankly through the window at the door without really seeing anything. "I hurt someone," he says. "I didn't even use my quirk and I still hurt someone."

"Hey, hey, Mob," Reigen says gently. "Calm down for a second. Deep breaths."

Reigen waits patiently for Mob to get his breath back to normal before continuing. He sighs, "Oi, Mob, what did I tell you yesterday?"

The question throws Mob for a second, and he pauses. Yesterday feels like ages ago. He scrunches his face as he tries to remember. "I-" he says, tongue heavy and words clumsy. "Do my best?"

Reigen tsks at him. "I told you that everyone would be doing their best, and that should include you. And that doesn't mean going all out all the time, that means doing the best you can in the moment."

Mob blinks. "I don't understand."

"Do you feel like things could've gone worse?"

Mob takes a moment to really think about that, turning the question over in his head. "Yes," he says finally.

"You see?" Reigen says. "If it could've gone worse, then that means you did the best you could."

Seventy-five.

Mob feels something in his chest loosen, the pressure easing up just enough that it makes it easier to breathe. He huffs, letting go of the doorknob and letting his hand fall back to his side. "Master," he says, "Thank you."

Reigen makes a little noise, a high pitched whistle. "Yeah-I!" he says. "Yeah, it's no problem Mob. Anytime."

There's a moment of silence that Mob takes to close his eyes and take a deep breath through his nose, in and out. Nothing's changed much, but he feels a little better prepared to handle it at least.

"Hey," Reigen says, voice suddenly serious again. "Listen, I meant what I said. You can stop anytime, there's no pressure. We can always figure out something else to do."

Mob thinks of Ritsu's lips pressed together tightly, telling him he didn't think U.A. was the best fit for him if they were irresponsible with his safety. He thinks of Midoriya telling him to do what he needed to. He opens his mouth.

The door to the preparation room opens suddenly, Uraraka walks in with a bandage on her cheek and tear tracks down her face. She doesn't look up at him as she enters, staring down at her feet.

"Uraraka?" he asks, pulling the phone away from his ear.

Her head snaps up, eyes wide. "M-Mob!" she stutters, lifting a frantic arm to rub away at her tears. She sniffles. "What are you doing here?"

"Mob?" Reigen asks distantly. "What's going on?"

"Master Reigen, I have to go now. I'll call you back."

"Mob, wait, wha-?" Mob presses end and cuts Reigen's voice off with a click.

"You didn't-You didn't have to end your phone call for me!" Uraraka says. Mob notes that her face is red, whether that's from the crying or something else he doesn't know. "I'm fine, I promise."

"You're crying," Mob says bluntly.

"Well...yeah…" Uraraka trails off, looking away from him. "But I'm just being a big baby, it's no big deal."

Mob frowns, taking a step towards her. "It seems like a big deal if you're crying."

Uraraka tilts her head at him, eyes narrow and puffy. "I just…It's just that I…"

Mob waits patiently. Uraraka takes a deep breath.

"I just lost against Bakugou that's all," she says in a rush, bringing up a hand to rub at the back at her neck. "Even trying my hardest I still…" Her face twitches, eyes getting watery again.

Mob feels his stomach drop and he takes another step forward, unsure of what to do next. His hand twitches, and then, very carefully, he picks up his hand and places it on her shoulder.

Uraraka jolts, startled out of her attempt to start crying again. She looks at Mob's hand and then back at his face. "Mob, um, you don't have to do that, it's fine I-I-" Her face twitches again, and then she sobs, throwing her arms around him.

Mob grunts, eyes widening with the force of it. He blinks a couple of times and then slowly picks up his arms to wrap awkwardly back around her as she sniffles into his shoulder.

It doesn't go on for long, she's pulling away and wiping her eyes before he can entirely process it. "Sorry, I-I know you don't like to be touched that much."

"It's fine," Mob says. "I think you needed it."

She gives him a watery smile, hiccuping. "Th-Thanks. I really appreciate it."

Mob pauses, staring at her intently as he tries to figure out what to do next. He racks his brain for times that he's comforted someone when they upset. He finds that it's unsurprisingly that it's usually Midoriya, but the other boy tends to figure himself out without much interference.

"Why were you crying?" he settles on.

"Oh," Uraraka sighs. "I just, called my dad in the hall, that's all." She bites her lip. "I just, I felt like I let him down you know? But he said he was proud of me anyway, and I kinda…" She half-hearted gestures at him. "Well, you know."

Mob nods.

"But it's ok!" Uraraka continues. "I just have to try harder next time!" She smiles shakily at him. "I mean, you and Deku, you're always moving forward, I don't wanna fall behind. So even if I lost this time…" A fire lights up behind her eyes, her grin going sharper. "I won't lose again."

Mob is reminded of her determination to become a hero, her desire to give her family an easier lifestyle and follow her dreams at the same time.

"You're very strong Uraraka," he says. "I know you'll do your best."

She beams at him, and then, studying his face, her expression starts to drop. "How 'bout you?" she asks. "How are you doing?"

Mob blinks, tilting his head. "I'm fine," he says after a beat.

Uraraka's frown deepens. "Are you sure?" she says. "You looked...Well, you didn't look good after your fight."

"I'm doing better now," Mob says. "I just needed to know that I did the right thing."

Uraraka just looks at him, face unreadable to Mob. It lasts long enough that he starts to sweat.

"Mob," she says carefully. "Of course you did. Why would you think that you didn't?"

"I-" he starts, stops, takes a breath. "I've inconvenienced a lot of people because I don't know what I want. I think I'm starting to figure it out though." He blinks, eyes darting down to the bandage on her cheek as he suddenly remembers. "I don't want you all to get hurt anymore."

Uraraka slowly nods, eyes narrow. "Ok," she says. "That's...That's a good thing to want I think." She brings a hand up to her mouth in thought. "Do you...Are you looking to protect us then?"

"No," Mob says immediately, and then hesitates. "Yes?"

Uraraka hums. "Well, I don't think there's anything you can really do right now."

Mob looks down at his feet. "That's what my master said."

"But," Uraraka says, stretching out the word until Mob looks back up at her from underneath his bangs. She's smiling at him. "If there's anyone who can change things around here, I think it's you. You're strong too, right?"

Mob's eyes dart to his feet and then back up, brow creased. "I don't understand."

"Well, how 'bout this!" she says. "I'll make you a promise!" She reaches out, gently pulling out his hand and then curling her pinky finger around his. "I promise, going forward, I'll try to do my best not to do anything too reckless and hurt myself unnecessarily."

Mob stares at their intertwined fingers and then lifts up his head to stare at Uraraka. The pause seems to go on for too long, but Uraraka just smiles unwaveringly at him throughout it.

"Ok," he finally says.

"You gotta promise me something too though," she adds softly. "Promise me you'll keep doing your best, that you'll hold on to that feeling that got you this far."

Mob thinks of his feet moving without him thinking about it. He thinks of walking here, he thinks of his match, he thinks of the cavalry battle. He blinks. He had felt good during the cavalry battle, didn't he? He had forgotten that, that determination that had pushed at him.

"I will," he says, staring at their intertwined fingers. Uraraka beams.

"Good," she says.

.-.-.

Izuku can't help but feel a bit queasy after watching Uraraka's fight.

It's not the fact that she lost that eats away at him, it's how close she came to winning. He's seen Bakugou pushed to his limits before, knows what that twitching in the muscles in his arms means. Her plan was horribly reckless, but genius all the same, and given a few more minutes, it might have actually succeeded.

He's kind of glad Mob wasn't around to see the fight though.

The thought brings up another cause for concern since Mob never actually returned after his own match. From what Izuku could see from the stands, it looked like he got his nose messed up pretty bad, but with Recovery Girl on site that should have been a pretty quick fix. He worries his lip between his teeth, maybe he should go find him?

He's halfway stood up when a hand claps against his back.

"Hey," Sero says, a familiar grin plastered on his face. He doesn't look nervous at all and that's something Izuku highly envies. "You really gonna leave and miss my match?"

"No!" Izuku says, waving his hand frantically. "No! I was just going to check up on Mob and Uraraka, that's all!"

Sero laughs. "Dude, you're way too serious," he says, pointing somewhere over his shoulder, "they're literally right there."

Izuku follows his finger, finding Uraraka and Mob climbing up the stadium stairs towards them. He yelps, outright jumping out of his seat to wave at them. "Mob! Uraraka! You're back!"

Uraraka smiles at him, waving back at him. "Hey Deku!"

They situate themselves next to Izuku, with Mob directly on his right and Uraraka sitting next to him. Sero heads out almost immediately after, receiving well wishes from everyone sitting around him.

He grins, giving them all a thumbs up before he goes. "Thanks guys!" he says, "See ya'll on the other side."

Izuku watches his back until he disappears into the crowd, and when he turns back to the others, he finds Mob staring at him. He mentally pats himself on the back when he doesn't startle at the realization.

"Hey," Izuku says softly. "You all good?"

Mob blinks at him. "I'm alright," he says after a moment. "I just needed things to stop for a while."

Izuku opens his mouth, then closes it, unsure of how to respond to that.

Iida apparently knows, however, nodding vigorously in the seat to the left of Izuku. "I believe that is a wise decision Kageyama," he says. "These matches can be extremely stressful, it's unwise to push yourself too far."

Mob looks at Iida, and then back at Izuku. "I agree," he says.

It feels like a pointed remark somehow. Izuku doesn't have time to dwell on it though, Present Mic's voice once again erupting from the speakers.

"Alright! It's that time again folks! We're already at our third match here!" he shouts. "On one side of the ring, we have someone almost as plain as the other plain jane we've already seen on stage, Sero Hanta of the hero course!"

Sero stands in the ring, stretching leisurely as though he's just warming up for training rather than for a crowd of thousands of people. He shakes out his arms and cracks his neck, grin big and bold on his face.

"And on the other side of the ring, we have most likely the pinkest person you'll see today and full of spunk, Ashido Mina! Also from the hero course!"

Ashido seems to match Sero's energy, grinning right back at him. She bounces from foot to foot, seemingly unable to stand still.

"Is everybody ready?" Present Mic yells. "Get set! Go!"

Right when the match starts, Sero lifts up his arms, tape erupting out of them.

Ashido counters quickly, sliding out of the way and leaving a trail of acid in her wake. She lifts up her own hand, tosses acid towards him.

Sero dodges, aiming his elbows at her again.

It turns in a game of catch almost, with Ashido trying to hit Sero with her acid and Sero trying to trap her in his tape.

Izuku observes the fight with a critical eye. He scribbles down notes in his journal, rapidly glancing up and down to try and capture as much as he can on the arena.

It's over quickly, with Ashido landing a shot on Sero's shoulder and then creating a trail of acid that she slides him out on while he was still reeling from the pain. The crowd cheers for her and she stands in the center of the ring, arms raised in victory and smile broad across her face.

"That was awesome…" Izuku says, jotting down a couple more notes. "Ashido really knows how to use her quirk, and it's got a lot of versatility to it! Plus her reflexes are really good, she was able to dodge Sero's tape really easily and-"

"Mob?" Uraraka says.

Izuku's head snaps up from his journal. Mob sits next to him, holding himself a bit more rigidly than he had a moment ago. "Sero's hurt," he says.

Izuku follows his eyes back down to the edge of the ring, where Sero is clutching his shoulder as he moves to stand. He winces in sympathy before turning back to Mob. "He'll be alright," he tells him, "It's just a minor burn."

Mob doesn't look pleased with that answer but doesn't say anything else.

The next few fights seem to blur together after Sero returns to the stands. Each one finished after only a couple of minutes, though both have very different levels of seriousness to them.

Kirishima and Tetsutetsu's is downright brutal, absorbing hits from each other until they both collapse at the same. He glances over at Mob to see his reaction to that and finds his face carefully neutral, his head tilted forward to hide his eyes beneath his bangs.

"They both just exhausted each other," Izuku reassures him again. "Neither one is hurt or anything like that, so don't worry."

Mob just hums.

Iida and Hatsume's fight would almost be kind of funny if Izuku didn't feel so bad for Iida. He's not surprised in the slightest with how it goes down, but it really is terrible luck for Iida to go against someone so ready to take advantage of his nativity.

After about ten minutes, Hatsume steps out of the ring, sweating and smug, leaving behind a very distressed Iida.

"Well," Sero says, looking a bit cheeky. "At least he won?"

Izuku leans forward when Kaminari and Kendou go up, interest piqued at the idea of looking at Kendou's quirk. She walks with a calm sort of confidence, the kind Izuku would expect from someone who placed in the top ten in the entrance exam.

Kaminari says something to her when the fight begins, posture cocky as he leans towards her. Kendou pulls her foot back, raising her fists into a fighting stance in response.

When sparks begin gathering around Kaminari, Kendou rushes him.

She claps her hands together as she runs, throwing her arms to the side and making a horizontal slicing motion. As they gain momentum, they grow huge, striking Kaminari in the side and sending him flying out of the ring.

He lands on his back, limbs spread in awkward positions and looking absolutely stunned.

Izuku can't feel a little bit disappointed at how quickly it ended. "Kaminari let his guard down," he says, mostly to himself. "He might have had a chance if he took it more seriously, but…" His voice trails off into a mumble as he pulls his journal right in front of his face, pen scratching across its surface. "Kendou is definitely the real deal. She obviously knows what she's doing in a fight, probably has a background in martial arts, and that only makes her better with her quirk. Maybe she has some strength enhancing too? Kaminari went pretty far…"

Uraraka leans over and hits him on the back, laughing. "Deku, are you already planning that far ahead? This is only the first round!"

Izuku jolts. "Wh-Oh! Uh no! This is just, like, a side hobby of mine! We finally have a chance to see such a wide array of quirks up close, I can't just not take advantage of that."

"Ha!" Sero grins at him, leaning over to ruffle his curls. "You really are a nerdy dude, you know? Like I knew you were, but every day it just gets worse and worse."

Izuku goes red, wrapping his arms around his face and stuttering out incomprehensible, garbled up syllables.

"I think it's a good thing," Mob says. "Midoriya is…" He pauses, bringing a finger up to his mouth in thought. "...passionate."

"Yes, I agree!" Iida says, arm coming up in a familiar chopping gesture. It's the most energy he's shown since coming back to the stands, unusually quiet since his victory. "And of course it never hurts to be well informed about matters pertaining to education, especially with skills that can be practically transferred into real-life applications! It's obvious his hobby has improved his ability to think on his feet and strategize with others. That kind of dedication is something we should all aspire to!"

Izuku wails in embarrassment, sending Uraraka and Sero into a giggling fit in response. Uraraka goes to say something else, but Izuku is immediately distracted by the sight of Todoroki walking into the ring.

He walks with similar confidence to Kendou, but there's something tenser to it, stiff like a rubber band pulled to its breaking point. He stops at the edge, head tilted downward so his hair covers up his face. Izuku's eyes get stuck on him, feels the crowd around him suddenly grow quiet as though Todoroki's intensity has washed over them.

Izuku gets his pen ready, pressing it against the paper. He doesn't dare believe he'll make it to the second round, but he hopes he does, and if that happens he wants to be ready. Besides, either way, this will be an interesting look at Todoroki's quirk, that way if there's any time in the future -

A loud crack erupts through the stadium and then it's over.

The ice is almost close enough to have brushed against Izuku's face and he stares at it, jaw slack.

From the arena behind the ice, he hears a tiny, pathetic sound, ringing out in the shocked silence. A whirling that signals Aoyama is trying to activate his naval laser. Nothing happens.

"Aoyama is unable to move!" Midnight yells, voice shaking. "Todoroki moves on to the next round!"

The crowd slowly starts cheering, shouting words of encouragement down to Aoyama. Todoroki walks towards him in slow, halting steps like his having trouble moving. He reaches out with his left hand, presses it against the ice, and it burns with a steady glow, the water fizzing and evaporating into steam.

There's something incredibly sad about it.

There's a soft sound to his right, a sharp intake of air.

Izuku risks a glance at Mob and finds the other boy turned pale. His face is blank, but his eyes are wide and his nails digging into the flesh of his palm. Izuku looks away quickly, his eyes moving to his own hand, staring at his fingers.

A one-shot knockout, entirely unavoidable.

But, if he meets it head-on, then he has eight fingers to counter with.

The idea forms quickly, reckless and desperate and entirely hypothetical. With it comes a burning rush of desire, a need to go as far as he can, a need to help.

"I don't like the look on your face," Mob says.

Izuku jumps, eyes darting back up and then quickly away when he sees how intently Mob is staring at him. He grips his wrist nervously, pulling it closer to him as though he was just caught doing something wrong. "No, no! I'm ok, I'm just thinking!"

Mob hums, and then there's a second of pause before he stands up. "You're next."

Izuku looks up at him, blinking. "Yeah," he says slowly. "Yeah, I am."

Mob nods, then there's a beat, and then he nods again. "Alright." He starts walking towards the stairs, brushing in front of Izuku.

"Mob?" Uraraka calls after him. "Is everything ok?"

Mob glances at her over his shoulder then looks at Izuku, stare unwavering. "I'm fine," he says, "I'm going to walk Midoriya to the prep room."

Uraraka throws a puzzled look at Izuku and he helplessly shrugs in response. He's not too sure of what's happening either.

She glances between the both of them, as though looking for something, and when she seems to find it, she eases back into her seat with a nod. She smiles at Izuku, reaching over the seat where Mob was in order to pat his arm. "Good luck Deku," she says, "I know you can do it."

"Yeah dude!" Sero says, clapping his shoulder. "You got this!"

Iida considers him, giving Izuku a once over before nodding. "Do your best Midoriya, you have prepared for this I'm sure."

Izuku feels himself start to tear up, immediately overwhelmed by the unfamiliar amount of support. He lifts up and wipes his face with his palms as he stands. "Thanks guys," he says. "I'll make you proud."

"Are you ready?" Mob asks.

"Yeah," Izuku says, then nods. "Yeah, I think I am."

They walk together with a comfortable silence, despite how frayed all of Izuku's nerves feel. There's something calming about Mob's presence that Izuku just doesn't have the words for, but he enjoys all the same.

When they make it to the hallway before the prep room, Mob stops walking entirely. Izuku gets a couple of paces in front of him before he realizes and stops as well.

"Mob?" he says. "Is something up?"

Mob stares at him as though he's looking right through him, pausing for an unnaturally long period of time. He opens his mouth and then closes it, brow furrowing as he seems to search for the right words. Izuku waits, knowing he'll only make it harder on Mob if he speaks, but nervously fidgets in place all the same.

"Are you planning on hurting yourself?" is what Mob finally asks.

It's Izuku's turn to pause, suddenly gobsmacked. His mouth moves, but no sound comes out as his brain tries to wrap itself around the question. "I-" There's no really good answer, nothing he can say that will satisfy Mob after learning everything he has about the other boy.

He thinks of their first training exercise, of Mob's refusal to fight him. It's not right, he had said. We're only students.

"I-I don't know," Izuku says, words tumbling out. His eyes dart down to the floor, glancing around as though he'll somehow find the right answer by his feet. "I don't know if I'll have a choice."

Mob doesn't say anything, and for some reason that spurs Izuku to continue, unable to meet his eyes.

"I just…" He runs one hand through his curls, and then the other, gripping at his hair. "I just don't know, there's nothing else I can really do, you know? I need to figure out how I'm going to do this now, otherwise I'm just gonna keep hurting myself in the future."

Mob tilts his head. "So you'll keep getting hurt," he says tonelessly.

"Ahh! We-Well, no- I mean-" Izuku looks up at him from underneath his lashes, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. "It should be fine when I get the hang of it!" Mob stares at him blankly, though Izuku can't help but read something accusatory in it.

Desperate to reassure him and also dissolve some of the tension that seems to be growing between them, Izuku plows forward. "Besides!" he squeaks. "I'm fighting Yaoyorozu this round, so I shouldn't have to use my quirk anyway. I've been thinking and it's not like she has a strength enhancement quirk or anything like that, you know? This round will just be...about whose...quicker…"

Izuku trails off, blindsided by just how hopeful Mob suddenly looks. Nothing really changes in his face, but regardless his whole expression seems to light up, eyes shining.

"Do you promise?"

"Promise?"

Mob's head bobs up and down, the movement unnaturally animated for him. "Can you promise not to use your quirk this round?"

Izuku blinks, eyes moving somewhere over Mob's shoulder. "Uhhh."

He shouldn't have to use his quirk right? From what he knows of Yaoyorozu's quirk, he should be fine without it. She's scarily smart, but her abilities depend on how quickly she can make items to help her out. And chances are that during the fight she'll make something simple, something that takes less time, weaponry of some kind? Can Izuku really combat that without his quirk?

"Yeah," Izuku hears himself saying distantly. "Yeah, I promise."

He wants to shake himself the second the words come out. He shouldn't be making promises he's not sure he can keep. What would his mother say if she knew?

But then Mob gives him a tiny smile and it's like all his thoughts dribble out of his ears.

"I'm glad," Mob says, reaching out to place a gentle hand on Izuku's forearm. "Good luck Midoriya."

Izuku stares at his hand, and then slowly looks back up to Mob's face, worrying his lip. "Yeah," he says. "Thanks, Mob."

"Young Midoriya!" All Might exclaims, suddenly appearing around a corner in his muscular form. "And Young Kageyama too! How are you two doing?"

"I'm fine," Mob says.

Izuku nods in agreement, ignoring the heavy feeling in his gut. "I'm ok too," he says, feeling anything but.

All Might stops in front of them and there's a second of awkward silence, then he coughs. "Ahh, uh, Young Kageyama. May I speak to Midoriya alone for a moment?"

Mob looks between the two of them and then nods. "I'll go back to the stands then," he says. He starts to walk away and then pauses, seeming to realize something. He turns back around, gives a small wave, and then disappears around a corner.

"He really is a good kid," All Might says. "A little strange, but good."

Izuku is reminded of that first night he met Mob on the beach and thinks of how much things have changed since then. He nods in agreement.

Then All Might hacks a few more times, blood spewing out of his mouth and smoke curling around him till he appears back, muscles relaxed and skeleton pressing against his skin. "Oof." He pats his chest, wincing.

"All Might?" Izuku says, eyes wide in alarm and arms reaching toward him in concern. "Are you ok?!"

"I'm fine, my boy," All Might says, grinning at him before reaching up and wiping the blood away from his mouth. "Anyway, it looks like you're finally getting a hold of One for All!"

Izuku looks at his hand, thinking of how it felt to brush away the Todoroki's flames with the sweep of his hand. "I'm still nervous…" he says slowly. "I don't want to mess this up and using it still feels...dangerous. Like if I don't focus for a second, I'll lose control. I feel like I've just gotten lucky so far."

"Nonsense!" All Might yells, whacking him over the head and he yelps. "You're always working hard and doing your best, you have pushed yourself to the brink to get where you've gotten! Don't forget that!"

All Might pauses, looking him over. "Now listen," he says. "When you're feeling scared, just remember to smile! You've come so far, so you have to show some bravado, even if you're just faking it! Never forget I'm expecting big things from you!"

Izuku's mouth clamps shut, sweat dripping down his cheek. The pressure of the first round suddenly feels even more intense. "I won't forget All Might," he says, "I promise."

.-.-.

Momo walks into the arena with her head held high.

On the other side of the field, she sees Midoriya approaching, looking nervous. He's hunched in on himself, tension evident on his features. Even still, he seems like he's trying to smile, though it looks more like a grimace than anything else.

They come to a standstill across from each other in the ring and she sizes him up. He certainly doesn't look like much, but he's proven himself to be a very worthy adversary throughout all of this entire competition. Looks are deceiving as they say.

Still, she's uncertain of how well he will fair in a one on one match. His quirk makes him a glass cannon, and without Kageyama and his friends to direct, he doesn't have much of a chance of winning without injuring himself severely.

"And now onto the last match of the first round!" Present Mic yells over the speakers, deafeningly loud even over the crowd. "He's...sort of smiling? Izuku Midoriya from the hero course! Verus! Here on recommendations and the picture of elegance, Yaoyorozu Momo!"

"Midoriya," she says with a nod. Then she drops into a fighting stance, "I'm afraid I can't afford to go down easily here."

Midoriya's wobbly smile goes sharper as he mimics her. "Same here," he says. "Good luck Yaoyorozu."

"Ready! Set!" Present Mic yells. "START!"

A shield pops out Momo's arm, she clutches onto the back of it. She rushes Midoriya before he can even take a step, his eyes wide.

She feels more than sees the moment of impact. Midoriya grunts and she pushes with all she has, trying to force him out of the ring.

Midoriya pulls his leg back and kicks at her shins before she has time to counter. She lets out a pained breath, easing off of him unintentionally.

He takes full advantage, grabbing at the bottom of her shield and pulling it up, trying to send her to her back. She digs her feet into the ground, loosening her grip and letting her only defense fly out of her hands. It lands with a clank behind her.

She sees Midoriya reaching toward her again, teeth gritted together, and without thinking about it a metal pipe thrusts out of her stomach and through her tracksuit.

It hits Midoriya straight in the gut and his face goes slack in shock, breath halting completely and he stumbles backward a couple of steps.

She chases after him, but trips, pulling him down with her. She lands on top of him, hesitating in her surprise.

It costs her. Midoriya recovers quicker, knee coming up and hits her in the stomach. The pain immediately makes it hard to focus, let alone create anything, so she does the first thing she can think of and punches him back.

It's undignified. They roll around on the ground, exchanging clumsy blows as each one of them as they try to gain some type of leverage over the other.

Midoriya makes it up to his feet first, clumsily stumbling upright after Momo lands a good hit against his cheek. Blood drips from between his lips, he must of bit his check.

Momo tries to follow, body sore but adrenaline running through her. Midoriya is walking backward, eyes not leaving her as she gets upright.

He's trying to get distance, she realizes. He's got something planned.

Running out of time, she creates another rod. If she gets too close she's done for, he's physically stronger than her at this point, at least in the way where it counts.

She rushes him again, screaming. The crowd has disappeared at this point. All that's left is her, Midoriya, and a shot at victory.

Midoriya lifts up his hand, fingers pressed together, and flicks.

The gust of wind is even stronger than she expected though it doesn't even hit her directly. Instead, it blows past her, creating a small hole in the stadium behind her. Her eyes chase it without any conscious thought on her part, the wind knocked straight out of her lungs.

Then Midoriya is slamming into her, hands on her shoulder pushing. Her head snaps back to him, mouth parting as she stumbles backward. She only takes a few steps, but it's a few steps to many, a buzzer going off as her feet cross over the white line.

She hears the crowd roar, suddenly aware of it again. Midoriya slowly removes his hands from her shoulders, studying her face. He swallows, and then carefully smiles at her. He's shaking, she notes. Whether it's with adrenaline or excitement or sheer pain, she doesn't know.

"Good job Yaoyorozu," he says, turning away from her. "You're quirk is really cool, you know? And you're really good in a fight! Honestly, I'm kinda surprised you didn't beat me!"

Momo grimaces, feels her face scrunch up, the platitudes not making her feel better in the slightest. She looks up at the crowd hesitantly, all cheering for the fight, for Midoriya, and her stomach tenses. It doesn't feel like a good fight, it doesn't feel like she came close. It just feels like defeat.

Her creation powers didn't serve her much at all, barely even useful. She just wasn't quick enough on her feet, didn't have a chance to think things through. Could she have even won? Or was she destined to lose? If she can't handle a simple one on one fight now, can she ever hope to later?

She watches Midoriya's back as he turns away, moving to celebrate his victory, and her chest aches.

.-.-.

Izuku cradles his right hand as he walks down the hallway towards Recovery Girl's office, brimming with pride despite the pain.

He can still barely believe that he won, against Yaoyorozu no less! Granted, the fight was more brute force than strategy based like he expected, but regardless, he had won it.

He grins at his hand. His right index finger has turned purple and swelling up, his face is on fire, and his stomach hurts something fierce, but these are things he can work with. If he can handle this pain now, it's all the more helpful for what's he's got planned for his next match with Todoroki. He's determined to tell the world he's arrived and make All Might proud of him, no matter what it takes.

He's so focused on his planning, already mentally moving onto stressing about the next fight right after the first is finished, that he doesn't even notice the blob of black hair until it enters his peripherals. And even then, it's another second before it registers and his head snaps around to find Mob pressed up against the wall.

"Mob?" he asks. "What are you doing here?" He suddenly remembers who Mob's fighting next and his eyes widen. He takes a step towards him, arms outstretched. "Is everything alright?"

Mob doesn't move for a second, gaze directed down to the floor and mouth pressed in a thin line. He looks up at Midoriya, stare intense enough that it feels like it's piercing straight through him, and then he moves to look somewhere over Izuku's shoulder.

"I wanted to make sure you were ok," Mob says. "You look bad."

His voice is ice cold, lacking any inflection whatsoever. Izuku gapes at him, suddenly feeling like an impenetrable wall has been slammed down between the two of them, making it so Izuku can't even attempt to get a proper read on him. Or maybe Mob's been building it up slowly and Izuku just didn't notice, too wrapped up in his own head, just like he always get when it really matters.

Izuku's stomach rolls with guilt as he remembers his promise. "Mob, look, I-" He swallows. "I'm- I'm sorry." He looks down at his feet. "I was just doing what I had to to win. And-!" His head snaps back up, but any assurances he might have had die on his tongue when he meets Mob's blank stare.

"You promised," Mob says.

"I-I know," Izuku says, trailing off. He brings his left thumb up to his mouth to bite at it, letting his right hand drop. Mob's eyes follow it to his side. "It's fine though! I won! And it doesn't even hurt that bad. I've had worse."

"I don't think that makes it better," Mob says. "I didn't want you to get hurt at all."

"I know you didn't, but I had to, I-" Izuku pauses, trying desperately to think of some way to explain himself in a way Mob can understand. "I have to be able to prove myself. If I can't do this, then...then-"

What did I work so hard for?

The words get stuck in his throat, pushed down by Mob's dispassionate stare.

"There has to be another way," Mob says sharply. "You're not trying to figure it out."

A combination of hurt and frustration flares up in Izuku at the accusation, his face scrunching up as it tries to figure out what expression it wants to make. He is trying. He knows he's probably worrying people by not being able to use his quirk without hurting himself, but it's not like he can let that stop his progress. Besides, it's not like any damage he does to himself can't be fixed. Why can't Mob just understand that already?

"There isn't another way right now," Izuku says, gritting his teeth. "The only thing I can do is try to figure it out as I go."

Mob hums, an uninterpretable sound that Izuku's too shaken up to even try to put meaning into. "You can stop," he says.

"No I can't."

Mob just stares at him. Izuku feels himself squirm underneath it, but continues to meet it head-on. The air between them is tense and full like a single spark could ignite it into an inferno.

"You're going against Todoroki next," Mob says slowly.

Izuku blinks, thrown by the sudden topic change. "Yeah?"

"I don't like it," Mob says. "You're both taking this too seriously. Someone's going to get hurt."

Izuku thinks back to his conversation with Todoroki in the hallway, remembers the look on his face as he explained the whole reason he was ever born and his resolve to rise over that on his own terms. He thinks of his conversation with All Might, of his mentor's expectation for him to tell the world that he was here now.

"You don't get it," Izuku says, frowning. "We're both aiming for the top, and that's why we have to do this."

"Do you really?"

The beginnings of anger start boiling underneath Izuku's skin and he can feel himself starting to shake. He clenches his hand into a fist and a jolt of pain runs up his arm from his broken finger. A part of him feels like this is going to be something he's going to regret, but a bigger part is too frustrated to stop now. "You don't even know if being a hero is something you want," he snaps.

Mob's eyes widen minutely before they narrow, his frown deepens. "I know that I don't want you to get hurt."

"Yeah, well you can't control that," Izuku says, teeth bared as he glares at the floor. "I have to do this, no matter what."

"No, you don't," Mob says, pauses, and then hesitantly adds, "I don't think you should."

"You just don't get it!" Izuku shouts, throwing his arm out in a wide gesture. He can feel the start of traitorous tears starting to drip down his cheeks. "I- I have to! I have so many people I need to prove myself to, I have to do this so I can be the hero I want to be! And you just can't understand because you've already done all of that! You're already a hero! You already have a master that you've proven yourself too! You've been a sidekick, an actual sidekick! And I-! And I just…"

"We're both still students. That doesn't mean anything."

Izuku laughs, a broken down sound, and runs a hand through his hair. "Of course it means something," he says.

He can hear Mob breath in as he goes to respond with something that Izuku knows he doesn't want to hear, he just wants the conversation to be over, he wants to win the argument. So, without thinking, he barrels forward with something that Bakugou always said to get him to stop in his tracks.

"Just- Just, get a clue Mob!"

Izuku winces as soon as he says it, "Wait-No, I didn't-I didn't-!" He looks back up with wide eyes, desperately waving his hands like he's trying to wipe the sentence out of existence, and feels like all the air is knocked out of him when he sees Mob's face.

He looks visibly surprised, eyes wide and mouth parted. His eyes dart quickly across Izuku's face, as if looking for some sign that he heard wrong. Then, the emotion passes as fast as it appeared, Mob immediately shutting down into nothing more than carefully guarded blankness.

"You should go see Recovery Girl," Mob says bluntly, turning away from him. "I'm going to get ready."

"Mob-Mob wait." Izuku reaches out towards him with his good hand. "I didn't mean to-"

"I'm done talking," Mob says, voice leaving no room for disagreement. He's already halfway down the hallway. "Please respect that Midoriya."

Then he turns a corner, disappearing and leaving nothing behind but a cold and distant emptiness.

.-.-.

Mob climbs the steps into the ring for the second time.

Seventy-nine.

His whole body feels hot, hands clenched into fists by his sides, and hair beginning to drift upwards. Someone's speaking over the microphone, but he has no room in his head to pay attention to it.

His fight with Midoriya sticks to him, no matter how much he tries to shove it down. Tsubomi's face pops up, the memory of her face, smiling pretty and sharp at him. Get a clue.

Get a clue. Get a clue. Get a clue.

"What the hell is going on with you, Bowl for Brains? You look like you're going to blow a gasket."

Mob's head snaps up, eyes sharp and intent. He meets Bakugou's glare head-on, not shying away from it in the slightest. "I'm mad," he says. "Obviously."

Bakugou stares at him blankly, as though caught off guard, and then his expression morphs into a large grin. "Ahh, so you're finally gonna show some emotion?" he says. "You're really not as high and mighty as you think you are then?"

Mob's teeth grind together. "I'm not better than anyone else," he says. "I've already told you that."

"Yeah, and I'm calling bullshit," Bakugou says, dropping down into a fight stance, his palms open and smoking. "Now come on and let's do this."

"Ready!" Present Mic shouts.

Mob starts to raise his hand up.

"Start!"

Bakugou doesn't hesitate for a second, propelled forward suddenly by a series of explosions.

Mob barely has time to put up a barrier before Bakugou is launching a furious attack against him, explosions crackling harmless against a glimmer purple surface before they dissolve into smoke.

"Come on!" Bakugou shouts, fury written all over his features. "Take me seriously already!"

Sweat beads down Mob's cheek, the inside of the barrier starting to get hot. I am, he wants to say, but keeping up the bubble around him is taking all of his concentration.

He thinks of the training exercise and switches strategies, putting barriers around Bakugou's hands.

"Oh no you don't!"

Bakugou swings his arm back and bludgeons him with his own barrier, smacking Mob across the face and sending him sliding off on his side, body grinding against the ground

Bakugou launches himself again, but Mob raises his hand just in time for a wall to form between them.

He smacks against it, cheek pressed against the invisible surface. He pulls his hand back and starts to punch away at it, each hit emphasized with the sound of an explosion. The barrier starts to crack.

Eight-two.

"Come on!" Bakugou yells. "Face me head on!" Spikes of energy crackle around the barrier, the flames joining with them to create bright purple sparks.

The wall breaks, and Bakugou falls back onto his feet, already raising a smoking hand. It lights up, crashing down towards the pavement.

Mob has just enough time to roll away before the hit lands, leaving a large crater in the ground from its impact. Bits of concrete shrapnel fly up from the ground, one slicing cleanly against his cheek.

"Why are you even here?" Bakugou says, looming over him and sneering. "Do you even have any idea what you're doing?"

Eight-six.

Why is he even here? What does he actually want? He's been asking himself this entire time, but he still doesn't actually know.

Eight-nine.

Midoriya was right, he should just get a clue.

Ninety-five.

At the thought, Mob goes limp. All the fight leaves him in one steady burst and his eyes drift upwards towards the sky, face going blank once more. Bakugou growls, heaving him up by his collar.

"Answer me," he says, teeth snapping right in front of Mob's face.

"I don't know," Mob says, barely able to hear his own voice. Water drips down his cheek, he realizes he doesn't know if it's tears or just sweat. "I don't know."

Bakugou yells wordlessly, shaking him. "You can't come this far and not know!" he says. "You're stupid, but not that stupid! Even your dweeby friends know why they're here!"

Mob thinks of Midoriya, of the look on his face in the hallway, thinks of making people proud. He thinks of Uraraka's determination in the prep room, thinks of making his family happy. He thinks of his friends, he thinks of them sitting at a lunch table and smiling.

Ninety-seven.

If there's anyone who can change things, Uraraka had said, it's you.

Ninety-nine.

Something in Mob clicks into place. The answer calls him, close enough to reach out and grab. It settles inside his chest, warm and solid like it had always been there, like it belonged there. His hair flies upward, uncovering his face, and his eyes shine, bright and red.

One hundred percent. Resolve.

Bakugou flings himself backward, letting go of Mob as though he had been burned. His face goes slack with shock before it hardens back into a wild grin. "Finally figured it out, hun?" He drops into a crouch, aimed towards Mob. "About damn time."

He flies towards Mob, arms stretched out and at the ready. Mob picks up his hand and stops him mid-air, he hovers a few feet away from him.

"I'm not doing this for you," Mob says, slowly finding the words. "And I'm not doing this for me either."

Bakugou sneers at him, arms twitching. "Oh yeah?"

"I'm doing this for my friends," he says. "I'm doing this because I want to help them."

Bakugou's eyebrow raises, then he settles back into a grin. "You're a goddamn moron," he says, and then a series of explosions erupt from his palms.

The light blinds Mob, and the smoke that comes after it only makes it worse. He coughs, eyes desperately searching around for some kind of landmark.

Bakugou suddenly appears on his right, grabbing onto his shoulder with smoldering hands that burn right through his shirt. He goes to push at Mob, but Mob latches onto his arm, digging his heels into the dirt.

Bursts of energy erupt, coming from the both of them, Bakugou's in the form of an explosion and Mob's in the form of his telekinesis. They go flying in opposite directions.

The smoke clears from the air. Bakugou's laying on his stomach and Mob on his back. They're close to opposite edges of the ring, Mob realizes, but by some stroke of luck, neither of them have left it yet.

Bakugou struggles to his feet, lifting his arms with obvious strain, the muscles in them twitching. "I'm not dead yet," he says, a wild look in his eye.

And then he's running towards Mob again, hand balled into a fist and arm pulled back.

"This is over," Mob says.

A barrier explodes outward from him, starting close to his body and then forming a dome around the entire ring. It catches Bakugou in its expansion, his face contorting as his breath shorts, and sends him flying out of the ring.

He soars all the way to the stadium wall, smashing against it so hard that it leaves a small crater. His limp body sinks down, chin pressed against his chest and arms splayed out to his sides.

Mob thinks of Ritsu, head bloody against the sidewalk, and is suddenly too tired to panic.

"Bakugou is out of the ring!" Midnight says distantly. The world sways and blurs in Mob's vision. It makes him nauseous. "Kageyama moves on to the next round!"

Mob's breath stutters in his throat, everything slowly going black. He feels his body tilt forward and nothing after that.

To be continued…

Hello guy! :D

This chapter is finished and it is unintentionally, ridiculously long. I don't know know if every chapter is going to be this long, but this one sure is, so I hope you enjoy, lololol!