Chapter One: Grabbing the Bull By the Horns


Even though UA was an atypical school in many ways, in others it remained just like any other school for heroics, or even other ordinary high schools. Everyone arrived early in the morning, half of them looking like they needed about twice as much sleep as they got. Ordinary subjects such as Japanese and math and history and physical education took up a good portion of the day. And above all else, UA prided itself on traditions just as much as any of its competitors.

On a gray, cloudy Monday where the air was thick with humidity and the forecast promised rain, Izuku slid into his seat approximately ten minutes before class started, Kacchan trailing right behind him. While Izuku remained aware that anything could happen at UA with the start of a new week, he also didn't expect anything particularly groundbreaking.

The morning announcements for the day started just as always, most of them passing without comment. However, right at the end, as if to try and sneak it past anyone not paying the utmost attention, Present Mic squeezed in one last detail over the intercom, shattering Izuku's expectations like a window Kacchan had taken offense to.

"I would also like to announce to everyone that the date for the Sports Festival has been confirmed as next Saturday. This event will fill the entire day as per the norm. Anyone who wishes to enter themselves should contact either their homeroom teacher or Principal Nedzu."

Throughout this announcement, everyone in the room perked up to varying degrees, even Eraserhead. While Izuku knew the Sports Festival had to be coming at some point, confirmation that he had only a few weeks left to prepare sent jolts of both nerves and anticipation down his spine.

Izuku had seen a few of the Sports Festivals of the past on television, although never from inside the stadium. Between the raw excitement of the crowd, Present Mic in the announcers' booth, and the sheer energy of the competing students, he could tell the atmosphere there had no match even through the screen. He reasoned that being a competitor amplified the stress and tension at least tenfold, while also raising the excitement from merely high to a fever pitch. No matter what, though, having a chance to duke it out with the best and brightest of UA was a once-in-a-lifetime chance, and nothing was going to make him pass it up. Not in a million years.

By the time Izuku had recollected himself, the morning announcements had ended, leaving behind nothing but stunned silence. Before the inevitable explosion of disjointed conversations began, Eraserhead called order to the room, banging his fist against his desk like a judge's gavel.

For some reason, Eraserhead looked more enthused about this whole affair than he did for just about anything else, giving Class 1-A quite the intense glare. "Before any of you ask me, I preemptively signed everyone in this room up. And barring life-threatening injuries, you're all competing, so don't even try."

Izuku didn't understand why anyone wouldn't sign up for an irreplaceable experience like that, but then again, if the number of competitors from the years he remembered was accurate he supposed students in the non-heroics sectors of UA declined to join for their own reasons. Everyone had different goals in life.

"As enthusiastic as you may be about the Sports Festival, you need to take this seriously," Eraserhead said. "Since none of you have any real-world experience yet, this is what possible employers will use to evaluate you when determining whether or not to offer you an internship. Therefore, an excellent performance, or at least one that sticks out for the right reasons, is of utmost importance."

The energy in the room cooled down quite a bit after hearing that, although not enough to swing everyone into depression. Izuku remained cautiously optimistic, caring more about proving that All Might hadn't made a mistake investing so much into him.

"Furthermore, every class in your year is allowed to enter the Sports Festival, so don't get cocky," Eraserhead added. "Every Quirk has its uses, and for all I know, the events could favor the Management students who decide to enter. Don't think you can just brute-force your way to victory."

Izuku glanced behind him to check on Kacchan, whose face remained a mask. He breathed a sigh of relief there: last year or even at the start of this year, Bakugo might have taken offense to that. After Shinsou had accidentally brought him low, though, he knew better: any class had the potential to contain students who could fight him on even ground.

By that point, homeroom had almost ended, so even though just about everyone in Class 1-A wanted to talk about the Sports Festival, they didn't have the time to do such a thing before Eraserhead started taking attendance and acting like this was any other Monday morning.


Fortunately for all the students, they could save anything they didn't have time to say during homeroom for lunch, with the added benefit of being able to spread secrets with less of a chance of being overheard. As a result, the upcoming Sports Festival became the most prominent conversational topic in the cafeteria that day. Some conversations were loud and boisterous while others remained more subdued, but either way, everyone had something to chip in, be it speculation about the potential events that year, forming premature alliances in case one of the events allowed for teams, or debating about who'd make the final one-on-one fighting tournament that always capped the Sports Festival.

Well, almost everyone.

Shinsou may have been a rare exception, but that didn't make him any harder to spot. He sat well apart from the rest of his classmates, eating his lunch in relative silence. While he was indeed thinking about the Sports Festival, it wasn't in the optimistic manner most of the others had adopted.

He'd spoken with Midnight to get himself signed up for the Sports Festival (as had a number of his classmates). That was the only step of the process he considered himself prepared for. If his (admittedly minimal) research about the sports festivals of the past indicated anything, unless you had some kind of performance-boosting Quirk to help out, the first two rounds relied heavily on physical prowess. Meanwhile, Shinsou wasn't in bad shape per se, but no matter the events they'd pull out for the first two rounds, he didn't quite have the stamina to get through them both without tiring out.

Thus, he needed to get working if he wanted any chance of making it far. While he didn't plan on getting ripped, since he just didn't have enough time for that, he also needed to gain enough power or speed to blast his way through the first two events just to have a chance at reaching the final tournament everyone cared about. If he even reached it, regardless of his performance in the first two rounds, he had a solid chance of being offered a few internships, which would be the start of his path toward becoming a full-fledged hero.

But none of that mattered if he was too weak to make it that far. Which, of course, led to his current situation. At least, until it came to mind.

Every living being in the cafeteria seemed to freeze. The temperature dropped about ten degrees to compensate. The ambient noise disappeared, replaced by a hum vaguely reminding Shinsou of television static.

Shinsou had come up with an idea.

A wonderful, awful idea.

A wonderful, awful idea that would probably get his head mounted on a pike if things went poorly, but might bring him incredible benefits if things went well.

According to what little he knew about Bakugo apart from his vicious temper, he spared no effort to make sure he was in peak physical condition. Running, workouts, healthy eating, an insane sleep schedule he couldn't have recreated for the life of him… the list went on. Maybe Bakugo would give him some pointers if he asked politely and didn't come across as patronizing.

Despite some last-ditch efforts at formulating some other plan, Shinsou saw no other viable options. Might as well bite the bullet; he'd only have less time if his nerves delayed the process.

Opening his contacts, he sent a text he hoped got perceived as innocuous to Izuku. "Hey, would you mind if we had a quick chat about the Sports Festival? And if possible, could we get Bakugo involved too?"

Izuku clearly had his phone on him, because his response was damn near instantaneous. "We're free. Come on over!"

Looking up, Shinsou saw Izuku's distinctive hairstyle about halfway across the cafeteria, with Bakugo's spiky blond hair right next to it. At the very least, that made rounding everyone he wanted to talk to a non-issue, but that didn't make this task any less daunting.

Shinsou swallowed, preparing himself once more. Bakugo may have supposedly moved on from their first interaction, but he could still explode at any moment, and despite what Izuku might have said, he was pretty sure that if Bakugo wanted someone dead, he'd make sure it happened, and Izuku wouldn't be able to stop him.

Rising from his seat like a zombie from the grave, he began shuffling toward the table where Izuku and Bakugo sat, whispering prayers under his breath.


Bakugo didn't know who the fuck Deku was texting with, but damn him if he wasn't going to find out. He had no intentions of snooping through Deku's phone because that crossed just about every line he could think of, but nothing stopped him from just asking. "Hey, Deku, who are you texting with?"

Deku remained surprisingly open with him about that kind of thing. "Shinsou. He'd like to talk with us now, and I do mean now. He's on his way to our table."

Before Bakugo had time to process what the hell Deku had just said, a half-empty lunch tray thudded against the table just to the left of Deku's lunch as Eye Bags slid in next to him, wearing one of the most irritating expressions he'd ever seen in his fucking life. If Eye Bags' face during their conversation in the infirmary looked like a kicked puppy, then this expression resembled a puppy who'd been thrown down several flights of stairs.

"So," Eye Bags said, looking like every word hurt to say. "You two hear about the Sports Festival?"

What kind of a stupid fucking question was that? Everyone in the building who had functional ears had heard about it, and probably half of Japan had learned about it through social media or shit like that by now.

Still, he decided to humor Eye Bags, at least for now, so he restrained his response to a jerky nod. Deku's nod looked a little less forced, but that was the only difference between them.

"Are you training at all for this?"

Of course he was going to fucking train for this, not like it'd be much different from his normal regimen. He didn't tolerate weakness in anyone else, meaning he sure as hell didn't fucking tolerate it in himself. Deku nodded as well, although Bakugo had yet to see what that training entailed since the two of them still exercised separately.

"I'm sorry about this, but I don't even know where to start when it comes to this stuff," Shinsou said. "Would you mind if I worked out with you two, at least until the Sports Festival, just so I have a chance?"

Deku paused for a split second, likely to tell Shinsou that he and Bakugo worked out separately, but in that split second, Bakugo came up with a golden idea and interjected. It took an unnatural amount of effort to keep a goddamn straight face while he spoke, but he managed, albeit at the risk of making him look like he was fucking constipated or something equally stupid. "Sure! I don't have a problem with the three of us working out together."

As if the school itself didn't quite know how to respond to that, the bell rang mere seconds afterward, signaling that everyone needed to return to their classes. All three of them stood up without a word, but Eye Bags clearly still had something he needed to fucking spit out, since he gave the two of them the most intense look he could manage with his half-dead eyes.

"Thank you, Bakugo," Eye Bags said, turning to address both him and Deku the best he could. "I guess I'll see both of you after school."

Eye Bags departed for Class 1-C, leaving him with only Deku for company. Deku looked mildly shell-shocked as a result of their recent conversation, and Bakugo felt amused from a combination of Deku's ridiculous goddamn expression and what he knew was coming at the end of the day.

Deku still didn't seem to get his actions. "I'm surprised you went for that…"

Bakugo almost laughed. "What? You think I'd pass up the opportunity to make Eye Bags sweat a little after the bullshit he put me through? I mean, look at him! You think he's keeping up with me?"

Of course, Deku didn't seem to like that idea very much. "You do realize he's probably never done a workout anywhere near your caliber, right? We're going to have to tone it down a bit."

"Fuck that! What's the point of a workout if you can't go all out with it?"

Deku's voice took a tone far more authoritative than he ever would have expected it to get. "This is for Shinsou, not for you. I understand that you don't care for him much, but this is a terrible way to express that, and if you want to work out on your own, I don't have a problem with that. Just keep Shinsou out of it. Keep your promise to him."

The atmosphere between them then became incredibly awkward. Bakugo couldn't remember the last time Deku had used that stern fucking tone with him, or even if such an incident had ever occurred in the first place. Maybe being around him so much more frequently had made him start to grow a goddamn backbone, or even imitate him (he desperately hoped for the former). No matter the cause, though, the effect didn't change: Bakugo nodded and decided to drop the subject.

What little remained of their stroll back to Class 1-A after that finished in absolute silence. Bakugo proceeded to his chair, Deku sat down in his chair, and the two of them fucking left each other alone as Bakugo prepared for the second half of the day.

Well, this was shaping up to be quite an interesting afternoon. Hopefully, he'd be able to fucking enjoy it.


Wow, this came out far more quickly than I expected.

In case the summary doesn't clue you in, this is a sequel to Shinsou Hitoshi is Not a Good Matchmaker. I'd recommend you read that first, although I obviously can't force you to do anything.

I'm not going to keep up the chapter title convention from last time, just because I was already running out of ideas for that when I finished Shinsou Hitoshi is Not a Good Matchmaker, and this story is looking to be significantly longer (somewhere in the 15-20 chapter range seems reasonable at the moment with the planning I've done). I've also toned down Bakugo's swearing a bit, and while I could lie and say it was part of his character development, I ultimately did it because I could see the sheer volume of swear words from earlier becoming distracting.

Finally, this one will be less of a romance story and more of a friendship story: while I tagged the pairing because their relationship (romantic and otherwise) will see development throughout the story, it won't be the main plot. It'll probably wind up somewhere on the relevance scale between a background development and a subplot.

This is probably the longest author's note you'll see from me throughout this story, and if you're reading this part of it, thank you. No matter what, I'll see you all next chapter, whenever that may be!