AN: Important note for Anime-only readers! I reference OFA Quirks that have not yet shown up in the anime. Please consider yourself warned!
Other notes:
- I can never tell if I'm writing clunky combat or easy to follow combat. Do let me know.
- There is a sincere lack of fluff in this chapter, but it will pick up from here out.
- As compensation, there's a lot of Bakugou comically making Izuku miserable.
XX
Round One, Fight!
"Dynamight and Determination will be entering the competition. Shouto will be on the sidelines to keep an eye on things and try to identify our target and any strategic advantages. It is imperative that you do not use your Quirks here, for obvious reasons. However, you'll be screened on entry. They'll ask if you have Quirks, and you cannot lie. So find a way to admit the truth, without outing yourselves."
Izuku worried at his lower lip, trying to figure out what he was supposed to say. He had a ton of Quirks! Maybe too many! How was he supposed to…
You cannot lie.
He sucked in a soft breath. His commander was a tad obnoxious in only giving partial help for situations like these, but that also meant Izuku was good at picking up what was said in between.
He could not lie, but he did not have to exactly tell the truth, either. Was that it?
He glanced over to Todoroki, who had been moved to a different line after stating he was a spectator. The latter stopped in front of a muscular man and a slight person dressed in all black, a medical mask covering the lower part of their face. Faintly, over his earpiece, he could hear the conversation.
"Do you plan to interfere with the fights?"
Turning his head slightly, he watched the exchange out of the corner of his eye. Shouto's job tonight was to observe, not interfere. Sure, if things went south, he would help intervene, but that would not be during the fights; especially not while he was in a crowd of bystanders.
Todoroki shook his head. "No."
Curiously, Izuku watched the bouncer turn to the person in all black who gave a singular nod. They then waved the young man through the door and motioned for the next person in the spectator queue to move forward.
Izuku turned his head to the line he was in, and to the person in front of him. The woman–he assumed, given her physique and attire–walked up to the pair standing by the other door. Another bouncer, and another slight figure in all black. Tilting his head, he strained to hear the conversation.
"Do you have a Quirk?"
"Yes."
"What can you do?"
"I can make small objects float."
The bouncer glanced at the person in black who gave a nod. "Will you use your Quirk during the fights?"
"No."
Another nod, and the bouncer gave her a number and waved her through. Izuku paused, glancing between the two black-clad individuals, and it clicked. They were Quirk users, possibly twins, who could tell if someone was lying! How sneaky!
He frowned though. Todoroki had been given a yes or no question that was easy for him to tell the truth on, but he had no idea about the woman in front of him. She had admitted to being a Quirk user, but was that her actual Quirk? Was anything she said a half truth?
They waved him forward, and he swallowed, stepping up.
"Do you have a Quirk?"
"Yes," He said quietly, grateful that his mask hid his expression.
"What can you do?"
He had to speak to one of his Quirks, but one that would not be easily associated with Determination or would cause alarm for the fights. Out of all of them, probably the safest one to go with was… "I can float."
The bouncer glanced back at the truthseer. They gave a singular nod. Izuku had to refrain from giving an obvious sign of relief, though he did pause when the man grunted, "What, are you related to the last chick?"
Izuku blinked rapidly. "Uh… no?"
Apparently the question was rhetorical because he moved on to his final question.
"Will you use your Quirk during the fights?"
This was the other tricky part. He would not purposefully use his Quirks, and definitely not use Float. However, it was possibly that if someone came at him with intent to kill that Danger Sense might trigger. He hoped that was enough of a half truth to suffice.
"No."
Another nod, and he exhaled softly as they handed him a sticker with a number, 282, and ushered him on. He stepped through the door, slapped the number on his hoodie and reached up to rub the mask at his face. The material was far itchier than his hero costume, or at least, he felt that way. Maybe it was nerves. Flexing his hands, he began to make his way down the long stairs that led underground, but stiffened when he thought about the last member on his team.
'Oh, no.'
How was Kacchan going to bend the truth on his very specific Quirk?
He paused, listening to the voice he could pick up over Bakugou's mic. "...a Quirk?"
"Yeah."
"What can you do?"
This was it; what would he say? Nervously, Izuku gripped the rail and continued to move down the stairs, knowing he needed to get inside quickly so he could scope the ring and the participants, but what if Kacchan got denied at the–
"If you lick my sweat, you'll get really sick."
What.
Izuku almost stumbled at the bottom of the steps, catching himself before falling face-first in front of the two men guarding the door to his destination. One lifted a brow at him, before nodding sharply to the door. "Move along."
"R-right, sure," Izuku replied weakly and pushed past them.
As he heard the next question, which meant Kacchan had passed the first two, he had to wonder just how his teammate knew licking his sweat would make people sick.
On second thought, no, he didn't want to know.
Wait, yes he did.
Wait, no.
Argh.
XX
Ochako pressed her lips together as she looked up at the caged arena where she would soon be fighting. Spectators were piling in, increasing the ambient noise of the underground venue. The smell of sweat lingered in the air, mixed with a hint of something metallic. It made her wrinkle her nose, but she otherwise ignored it, hands shoved into the pockets of her cropped puffer jacket.
Knowing her goal tonight was to finish in the top four, she began to evaluate the other participants. Most of them were men of various musculature, and only one or two had bothered to show their faces. Everyone looked like they could break someone else in half, and she was well aware she looked unimpressive in comparison. After all, she was the shortest person lined up to fight, and while she was very well muscled for her build, she paled in comparison to the rest. Even the one other woman she saw stood nearly a foot taller than her and looked like the definition of intimidating. It probably had something to do with her shaved head and the black and red ink wrapping around her cranium.
It was that point she noticed that the temperature inside was a tad uncomfortable, so she unzipped her jacket, sliding the material off her shoulders. As she did, she took another sweeping look at the other participants, and paused at a particularly unusual interaction.
She was pretty sure she only noticed it because one person stood out amongst the rest of the participants. He was short in stature, maybe just a little taller than her, presumably male given what she could make out of his physique. A mask hid most of his face from view, and he wore a loose hoodie rolled up to the elbows, showing off black compression sleeves that hugged very toned arms. A tag with the number 282 clung to the fabric of his hoodie.
She watched as he looked over to another man, taller, dressed in similar nondescript clothes, wearing a similar mask that obfuscated his identity. The brief moment of eye contact between them was too long to be accidental, but given neither of them had discernible features, it implied they already knew who each other was.
As quickly as it happened, it was over, and they walked away in opposite directions. Frowning, she pocketed the information away for later as she tossed her jacket over her shoulder and walked towards the benches. A moment later, the speakers cut on, announcing the start of the evening, and the first round's matchup.
So she was going last in this round. Excellent.
XX
Izuku watched Kacchan roll his shoulders as he walked into the cage. He'd discarded his hoodie, now clad in a tank top and jeans, with his hands wrapped in cloth bandages. His opponent stood a good head taller, twice as wide, with a tattoo sleeve that had blurred through years of sun exposure.
Idly, he rubbed at his arm, fingers pressing down on the compression sleeve covering his scars. The buzz of energy among the spectators made him nervous, and it was doubled by the fact he could hear the background noise of the crowd through Todoroki's mic.
The buzzer sounded, and he jumped, before his eyes snapped back up to the arena. With a lazy shift to a fighting stance and an air of arrogance, Bakugou beckoned his opponent to charge.
He did.
For a man with that much body mass, he moved at an impressive speed, but it was still a far cry from matching Bakugou, even without the aid of his Quirk. The smaller man shifted, smoothly moving out of the way of the swing and with a sharp twist, drove a punch into his opponent's unguarded side. The blow was staggering, and without waiting, Bakugou wrapped a hand around the bigger man's shaved head and yanked him down, driving his knee into his opponent's face.
Izuku was almost certain he could hear the wet crunch over the earpiece. He winced.
The man crumpled the arena floor, blood pouring from his nose. Bakugou watched him as the seconds ticked away for the other man to get up. The buzzer sounded, and the crowd erupted.
As his friend walked out of the cage, Izuku heard his voice mutter over the comms, "Fuckin' dare ya to beat that time, Deku."
Of course he would make this a competition…
XX
The next three fights took much longer, though Izuku felt it unfair to compare the participants to his teammate. Still, he paid attention, as each of the winners were likely to be people they might have to compete against to place into the last rounds. Each of the winners seemed to have decent fighting skill, raw speed and power, or a combination of both. So far, no Quirks had surfaced. He knew there was the entry screening, and probably half of the participants were Quirkless, but sometimes accidental Quirk activation happened under stress.
As the buzzer sounded at the end of the round, Izuku pulled up from where he had been stretching his hamstrings and took a steadying breath, knowing his match was next. As he moved to the cage's entrance, he heard Bakugou mutter, "You better not pussyfoot around this match, asshole."
He said nothing in response, given he was not alone to speak, but he did have to wonder why Kacchan would accuse him of hesitating–oh.
His opponent walked onto the arena, stretching her arms. She was beefy, dressed in ripped black jeans and a tank top, with black and red tattoos wrapping around her shaved head. She stood about a head taller than him and looked like she could probably bench press his weight.
And she was a woman.
Izuku always felt very weird about fighting women. He was fine when it came to subduing female opponents or criminals, but actual slugfest? Yeah, that made him feel like the world's biggest jerk. Kacchan repeatedly told him it was something he should get over, and even Todoroki agreed, but it was just so hard to shake off the idea that he should be okay with punching a woman in the face. Hell, it took a long time for him to be okay with punching anyone in the face!
He swallowed as he stood in front of her. Now was not the time to dwell on that moral dilemma. He was going to have to focus on his objective and guilt trip later.
He still couldn't quite hide the 'eep!' that escaped his lips when she charged as soon as the buzzer sounded. In his ear, he heard Bakugou spit a curse and Todoroki sigh. Yeah, okay, he deserved that.
He dipped under her swing, spinning around to stay behind her. She recovered quickly, lashing out a kick at him, using her momentum to put force into the attack. Eyes wide behind his mask, he dipped back, narrowly avoiding her attack by mere centimeters. She had a lot of speed and control, and it was a step up from the other combatants he had observed tonight.
Analyzing her moves was a luxury he could not afford, so he put focus into regaining control of the fight. She was already moving to kick again, foot aiming for his head when he dropped down and spun, lashing his own leg out at the one she had on the ground. He made contact, but she was already twisting as she fell, and he had to admire her ability to react accordingly.
"Oh my fucking god will you stop flirting with her and just knock her out already? She's not even your type, you useless nerd."
"A type of what?"
"This is why you're fucking single, you flammable ice cube."
If he wasn't already trying to avoid getting his teeth knocked out, he might have gotten flustered, if not exasperated by his teammates. However, he had a match to win, and a job to do. As she advanced on him, he responded in kind, closing the distance between them as her leg came up, aiming for his head. With a snap of his arms and twist of his hips, he caught the kick, grunting as his body absorbed the shock. Locking onto her with an iron grip he twisted, forcing her down to the cage floor.
She landed on her back with a heavy thud, and before she could move he landed on her, throwing his entire weight into his takedown. Knees pinning her arms, he pushed his forearm against her throat, effectively ending the match.
He felt like the buzzer took entirely too long, but as soon as it sounded, he leapt off of her and reached out to help her up. She scowled at him and knocked his hand away, rolling up and to her feet, stalking off.
The crowd jeered at the display, and he winced internally, especially as Bakugou's jab cut through his earpiece, "Fucking seriously, Deku, we're not here for play."
He sighed and walked out of the cage.
XX
Ochako has the sneaking suspicion that the two guys she noted earlier were not new cage fighters. The first one moved with the precision of someone who had seen way too many real fights, and the other one, well, uh…
That had been… interesting, to say the least. Every fight up until this point had involved duking it out, the shedding of blood, and a fifty-fifty chance to break a bone. This was the first one where both participants walked away fully intact, and the winner had clearly avoided dealing damage.
In a way, it was kind of similar to her own fight style, if not less refined. It made her curious, to say the least. After all, the only rules of this event were basically "don't kill your opponent" and "don't use Quirks", so it was interesting to see him take it the the next level with, "don't injure your opponent."
She wondered if he would keep that pace for the rest of his fights.
Looking away from the cage, her eyes skimmed the crowd before she caught sight of Tsuyu towards the back. Glancing around to make sure no one was in earshot, she spoke, "All good?"
"Yes, for now. Some of the fighters are suspicious, ribbit."
Ochako replied with an affirmative noise, grateful her mouth was covered so no one could see her lips move. "Yeah, I agree. We may not be the only ones trying to move in on this guy, but they also may not be on our side. Will have to be extra careful."
"I will let you know if I see anything of value. I will also place a bet on you, ribbit."
Ochako grinned. "You're the best." With that thought, she stood up from her bench and began to stretch so that she would be ready for her fight.
XX
The next hour passed by, and Izuku still felt as uneasy as when the night had started. They were nearing the end of the second round of matches, and both he and Kacchan had won their respective fights. At this point, it did not truly matter if they placed further, as they were guaranteed a private audience with the organizer for making it to the semi-finals. Despite that, a certain explosive hot-head was determined to place first.
At least now he knew why he felt like a mess. A fight had broken out earlier between two of the participants, an exchange of insults turning into an exchange of blows. Izuku had moved to break them up when both of his teammates hissed at him to stop and let the bouncers handle it. The reprimanding words that followed, while sharp, were both needed and enlightening.
"Stop acting like a fuckin' hero, Deku. Tonight you can't be one."
Bouncing his weight from one foot to the other, he tried to burn through the anxiety and frustration that statement had brought to the surface. Kacchan was right. Tonight he was not a hero, and that was the problem. This mission was not heroic. Sure, their end goal was to take out the event organizer who was responsible for a human trafficking operation, but to get a shot at the guy, they had to go under cover, fight dirty, and do things that felt like sandpaper against his heart.
And he hated it.
Once this night was over, he was going to request a day off because his mental health was going to be in shreds after this mission.
Before he could spiral too far down his disgust of the actions he was having to take, Todoroki's voice broke through the comms.
"I see one of our targets. Ten o'clock from Ground Zero."
Izuku looked up as naturally as he could, eyes skimming over the crowd. They had switched to full codenames once they had started Phase Two. After all, if anyone overheard the names "Dynamight", "Shouto", or "Determination", it would very much compromise the mission.
The Plus Ultra Heroes may not have the favor of the Quirkless population, but they had enough fame that everyone knew who they were.
It took a moment before he saw the man in question. He stood at the top of a staircase, separated from the rest of the crowd by railings and a smattering of hired muscle. He fit the description they had been given during their briefing: tall with bleached hair, multiple piercings, and a dragon tattoo on his right forearm. He was called The Handler, and was their target's right hand man.
Izuku took time to memorize his appearance. This guy was rumored to be a Quirk user, though admittedly the details of his Quirk were vague. Probably because most people who confronted him had wound up dead. That enough meant he was dangerous, and since he was here tonight, they would need to be careful.
The buzzer sounded, and Izuku blinked, looking back over to the arena cage as the participants walked out. Well, one walked out, the other limped. He frowned, realizing he had missed his chance to observe the fight.
A voice over the speakers reminded him that the semi-finals were next, and Izuku listened as they called out the lineup.
'283 and 277… that's Kacchan and the guy with blue hair who boxes. 282 is me, and 281 is…'
He froze, eyes falling to the small, masked figure standing some distance away, wearing pink camo and a black cropped sports top, with 281 over her left breast. He felt his stomach twist into an uncomfortable knot at realizing he would be fighting someone even smaller than him!
He heard stifled laughter over his earpiece, "Guess I won't get to kick your ass in the finals after all, Deku."
Izuku furrowed his brow, trying to figure out why Kacchan thought he was going to lose, when he realized he had no idea how this person fought. Both times she was in the ring, he had been distracted, first by the skirmish, and second by watching one of their targets. He swallowed, and glanced around to make sure no one was nearby.
"Uh… I didn't get to see her fight. Should I be worried?"
He could still hear muffled laughter, but Todoroki spoke over their teammate. "In brute strength, you're stronger; probably in top speed, too. But her fighting style might be… problematic."
"Eh?"
"You can damn well bet it'll be the closest Deku ever gets to having a chick's legs wrapped around his head!"
"EH?!"
XX
As Ochako waited for her opponent to join her in the cage, she pondered on what she had learned by observing his previous fights. In the last match, he confirmed he definitely knew how to go on the offensive. The man he fought had moved with considerable speed, and despite that, 282 had matched him with apparent ease, avoiding his blows while dishing back strong punches and controlled kicks that ultimately took his opponent down, albeit without any broken limbs or massive bloodshed.
Interestingly, when the match was won, he still extended a hand to help 279 to his feet, despite the jeers from the crowd. For some reason, it had made her smile.
As he turned to face her and the cage door shut, she actually found herself getting excited for this match. She wasn't exactly sure why, but she'd reflect on it later. For now, she wanted to test her combat skills.
With that thought, the buzzer sounded.
She waited, watching as he stood with his fists drawn up, in a tight guard with no openings. It seemed he did not want to make the first move.
So she obliged him.
XX
Izuku swallowed nervously as his opponent stood before him, posture so relaxed that he was almost convinced she thought they were at a spa and not stuck in a cage fight. He was torn between attacking and waiting, brain working furiously to understand what she might do, and just when he felt like his insides might pull apart in anxiety and indecision, she attacked.
Okay, fine. She walked.
Confused, he watched her step up to him, stopping just as she came within his reach. Idly, he noted Danger Sense had not triggered, which meant she had no interest in actually maiming him. That was nice, at least. It also made it harder for him to want to throw the first punch.
So caught up in trying to understand what she might do, he almost got caught in her opening move. He sucked in a breath as she blurred, moving in with a series of strikes aimed at soft, vulnerable places. He responded almost on reflex, blocking the first jab and parrying the next strike. Each time they made contact, she was already cycling into her next move, putting the pressure on him to continue to defend or step up his own game.
Despite being inside of a cage, the fight looked more like a martial arts tournament. The crowd seemed to be loving it, too.
She landed a strike into his chest, missing his solar plexus only because he moved at the last second. He grunted, catching her hand and twisting, sweeping a foot under hers with the intention of bringing her down.
He had a split second to think that she was going down way too easily when he felt her pull him off balance, using the momentum of her controlled fall to topple them both. He let go of her to regain control over his own tumble, and as he smoothly rolled up to his feet, he saw she was back on hers. She began to circle him.
"C'mon, Deku, are you fighting her or dancing with her? It's like watching fucking ballet at a monster truck show."
He ground his teeth, wishing his teammate would shut up, before he moved in, taking the offensive.
Half a minute later, Izuku had realized his opponent was way better than him at defensive maneuvers. Each time he attacked, she would redirect the blow in a manner so fluid that he felt clunky in comparison. Each time he thought he got close, she would use his momentum against him, and he would find himself doing his best to regain his balance and keep pressing. They moved across the cage almost like they were dancing, and despite them getting close to the cage wall, he had no delusions that he had actually cornered her.
Her seemingly untouchable technique was fascinating to him, and by the time he realized it was distracting him, he also realized it was exactly what she wanted. In almost slow motion, he watched her grab his extended arm and pull, dragging him forward and moving his center of gravity. She did not stop there, letting go of his arm to run up and push off the cage wall, flipping over him.
As her legs wrapped around his neck and he felt the world flip upside down, he understood why Todoroki said this would be a problematic fight.
Bakugou's laughter roared in his ear as he crashed onto the arena floor, the impact knocking the air out of his lungs. He moved, only to have a hand shove his face down against the floor, the other pinning his arm against his back, pulling up to the point it was painful, but not damaging.
The timer started.
He grimaced under his mask. While he could break out of the hold with brute strength, it would likely result in injury to his shoulder. Knowing that, and knowing he had already secured a high enough place for the event, he sighed and went limp under her.
The buzzer sounded, and he felt her let go of him as the crowd went wild. Groaning he rolled off of his stomach and reached up, rubbing his offended arm. Movement made him look up, and his eyes crossed as he looked at the hand in front of him. Hesitantly, he reached out and clasped it, his fingers curling around the material of her pink gloves.
She hauled him to his feet, letting go. And before he could say anything, she turned and walked off the stage.
XX
"He threw the match, ribbit."
"Yeah. I think it's safe to say he's not here to win."
"Well, it won me a bet."
"Rude. I could have won without him throwing it."
"Probably. Do you think our objectives overlap?"
"Maybe, maybe not. I think he's not alone though. The other finalist… I think they're together."
"He was laughing when you took down 282. Seems like a strange reaction to have to an ally losing, ribbit."
Ochako paused, observing the man in question. "Actually… that seems exactly like the reaction you might have if you know the other person."
They were both silent, as if thinking over the possibilities. Ochako had a few minutes to spare before the final fight, allowing her the chance to down some water. Taking the offered water bottle, she moved away from the crowd of participants near the benches and faced the wall, pulling her mask away so she could drink freely.
As tempting as it was, she avoided chugging the whole thing, reaching up to wipe her mouth before pulling her mask back into place. Turning, she caught sight of her upcoming opponent who was in the process of wrapping his hands with bandages.
Come to think of it, he was wearing bandages during his fights, so this was not a new injury he was wrapping. And in fact, his hands looked fine, and if his matches were any indicator, they felt fine, too. So it was kind of strange that he was wrapping them.
Inspecting his work, he flexed his fingers and nodded, before he started walking back towards the arena, passing by her. She turned to regard him, wrinkling her nose as she caught a whiff of a strange scent. It was gone as he moved away, and before she could really ponder it, she caught sight of him reaching out and smacking her defeated opponent upside the head, almost knocking him off the bench as he walked by.
Her eyes narrowed, and quietly, she muttered into her mic, "Oh yeah, they definitely know each other."
XX
Katsuki sized up his opponent as she walked onto the arena floor. The crowd had been fairly energized during the semi-finals, but now that it was the final round, the excitement was palpable. Obnoxious. Loud.
Unlike Deku, he had every intention of winning and absolutely no intentions of letting her spin him around like a ballerina. In all fairness, he could admit she was very skilled, and this was not going to be an easy fight.
And that's exactly why he was going to go all out.
"And she uses her opponent's momentum to throw them off balance. Like when I threw that third punch–"
He had to literally bite his tongue until he tasted blood so that he did not blow up on stage at Deku's incessant blabbering. Instead he forced a growl through his teeth, hoping it was enough for his idiot teammate to get the hint.
Fortunately, it seemed Todoroki was using the single brain cell that he and Deku shared, as he heard him interrupt, "It might be best to let Ground Zero concentrate."
Fuckin' finally.
However, the growling noise he made did not go unheard by his opponent. "Is this a dogfight or a cage fight? I can't tell."
His nostrils flared, and he gnashed his teeth at her. "Just don't make it a bitch fight, Princess."
Screw this. He was going to pummel her.
The buzzer sounded and he charged, closing the distance between them with a burst of speed. He knew she was clever with her parries and counters, so as soon as she redirected, he would follow up with– he paused, watching as she fell back to avoid his punch, before his eyes widened at the sneaker that narrowly missed clipping his chin. He tipped his head back, feeling the air left behind from her kick, before he lunged forward, intercepting her mid-flip. Wrapping his arms around her, he caught her in mid air and twisted, throwing her down to the ground.
She grunted with the impact, and he was on her in a flash, hands pinning her wrists and a knee to her throat. He bared his teeth in a wild grin as he heard the counter start.
And then his grin faltered as he felt her go lax underneath him.
The buzzer sounded, and the crowd roared, but in that moment Katsuki knew.
'This fucking bitch threw the goddamn fight!'
Deku's stupidity must have been fucking contagious.
XX
They were led to a large room decorated in tapestries and tasteful accents, a stark contrast to the rest of the building they had seen. Against one wall was a table with plates of food and some champagne, and a few chairs were scattered about along the other walls. Guards stood at each of the two exits, and the four fighters were told to make themselves comfortable while they waited.
The blue-haired boxer took a glass of champagne and claimed one of the seats, glaring at Bakugou from afar. Likely, his sour mood was related to his new black eye and busted lip.
Although they had not had a chance to talk, Izuku knew that Kacchan was pissed. He was practically shaking as he walked off the stage, and Izuku knew exactly why. It was easy to tell that she had thrown the fight. And honestly, it was impressive that his teammate had not exploded on her Literally.
But he also did not understand why she gave up so easily. Did she not want to win? She had certainly gone all out in his match. Was she only trying to get an audience with this guy? And if so, why?
His thoughts were interrupted as Bakugou stalked up to the woman, getting in her face. Gritting his teeth, he hissed out, "You threw the fight."
The woman leaned back, though it did not appear to be because he had intimidated her. After a moment, she quietly replied, "Yeah. You smelled too sweet."
He leaned back, his sneer evident even through his mask. "The fuck?!"
She shrugged, shoving her hands in her jacket and taking a step back to put distance between them. With carefully chosen words, she replied, "No need to blow up about it."
Izuku and Bakugou both froze.
Fuck.
XX
In all honesty, she was surprised that her guess had been right, because really, it had been a shot in the dark.
In fact, had she not just watched a news report on the Plus Ultra Heroes earlier today, she might not have put the hints together to come up with the hypothesis.
The aggressive fight style that 283 had demonstrated had some similarities to Dynamight's movements that had been caught on video.
The strange, almost sweet scent as he walked by had reminded her of the trending hashtag started by his fanbase, #SweetandSpicyDynamight.
The fact that he was not working alone.
And his quip right before their fight. Dynamight was known to have a foul mouth, and there were plenty of clips on the internet of him saying something caustic in that unmistakable low growl.
So when he visibly froze at her subtle accusation, she knew she was right. And that meant the other man was probably…
'Determination.'
XX
Before the heroes could really process all the possible implications of the woman's statement, the door opened and in walked their target, Nemoto Shin. He was a slender man, wearing a well-tailored suit that was a strange contrast to the plague doctor mask on his face. Much like most of the fighters did not want their faces out there, he certainly did not want his to be seen either. He was flanked by two armed guards, and trailing in right behind them was The Handler, hands lazily shoved into his pockets.
"Good evening, and congratulations on your excellent performances tonight. As I have another obligation to attend shortly, I shall make this quick." He drummed his fingers on the handle of his lacquered cane that Izuku was certain was for display only.
"As you are well aware, this event is held once every few months to bring in new fighters to the series. The finalists of this event are offered the chance to become regulars, with a stage name, and a cut of the earnings for their rankings. It's a good way to gain some notoriety in underground fighting, as well as line your pockets. Of course, even if you decline tonight, you will still take home your choice in rewards, either a lump sum of money based on your placement, a gift basket of our latest imports, or a sample of our new black market merchandise. The last would likely be of interest to you if you have a Quirk."
Izuku frowned under his mask. This guy had connections all across the country and was known to dabble in various illegal trades, but their briefing had not included any information on that last item. Was it information? A drug? What could he be offering that would interest Quirk users?
A knot formed in his stomach.
Turning to him, Nemoto nodded. "We'll start with you. What is your choice? You had quite the … unusual chivalrous act out there. It originally deterred the crowd, but by your last match with Miss 281, they were very invigorated."
Izuku gulped. He had hoped to have a little more time to mentally prepare for what he should say, but the new information had thrown him off. Scrambling for words, he finally blurted out, "What kind of merchandise?"
He got the feeling Nemoto smiled behind his mask. "Let's just say it gives you a …temporary performance boost."
Oh.
Oh, no.
A drug that enhances a Quirk? That was going to cause so much trouble if it started to be distributed!
On average, Quirks were unusual but not impactful; enough to stand out, to maybe scare the Quirkless, but not enough to cause real harm. The number of people who had Quirks strong enough to cause commotion was small, although it was enough that it fueled a lot of the Quirk discrimination. But this… if it got distributed to the wrong people - those with an agenda, those who wanted to fight back, it would be bad. Very, very bad.
Suddenly, Izuku did not know what to do. This was more than human trafficking. If they took him in right now, would they be able to get more information about this drug? Would they lose the lead?
He had no time to think, but fortunately, Todoroki came to the rescue. "Arena's been cleared out of spectators. I'm in position outside the building. Chances for civilian involvement are low. Move on with apprehending the target."
No time to rethink plans. Izuku and Bakugou moved at the same time, dashing in opposite directions to seal off the exits. Energy surged through him, and he sped towards the two guards by the exit way, tendrils of black lashing out to wrap around their half-drawn weapons and yank them away.
He ignored the explosions behind him and continued, expelling a burst of smoke from his body that covered himself and the guards. He wasted no time, delivering a series of powerful blows, knocking the men unconscious as the smoke cleared away.
He whipped around at a strange, crystalline sound and a flash of pink light.
Bakugou stood at the other exit, holding one unconscious guard up by his shirt, the other lying in a heap on the ground. The blue haired contestant stood with his back to the wall, chair in his hands and eyes wide. The woman had not moved from her spot, but had raised her fists to a fighting stance, staring straight ahead at the source of the pink flash in the middle of the room.
Nemoto stood in the center of a transparent pink dome, both hands on his cane. On either side of him were the last of his two guards, guns drawn, and in front of him with a hand lifted was The Handler.
"That was very rude," Nemoto commented idly, his voice slightly distorted as it passed through the barrier. He seemed composed, given the circumstances, and his next words indicated he understood who he was dealing with. "However, I have low expectations for boys who sell themselves out to the government and use their Quirks to oppress those of us already downtrodden."
"Fuck off," Bakugou spat, dropping the guy he was holding. "You're a shitstain on humanity, and we're bringing you in."
"Are you? That's nice. I'm curious how you'll do that. You see, my dear Handler has a very unique ability, a–" He was cut off as Bakugou charged forward, landing an explosive punch on the barrier. It rocked the room, but to both his and Izuku's surprise, the shield did not react.
"As I was saying," Nemoto continued, a touch of annoyance in his voice. "The Handler's shield is impenetrable." He paused, before tilting his head, "At least, from the outside."
He nodded to his men. "Kill them."
Bakugou's eyes widened as one of the thugs lifted their handgun and fired at him through the shield. He twisted, feeling a searing pain rip across his cheek as the bullet grazed him.
From the other side, Izuku lunged, Full Cowl activated as he lashed his foot out in a powerful Shoot Style kick. Despite the force of his Quirk, and the shockwave of impact, the shield did not give in the slightest. Frantically, he began to consider his options.
The shield had to have a limit. Was it based on time? Damage absorption? A weakness? Brute strength and explosive firepower had done nothing, maybe some other kind of attack?
His Danger Sense went off just in time for him to duck a gunshot aimed for his head, and he snapped his hand out, a wall of smoke obscuring himself from the gunman's view. Turning, he shouted to the two fight finalists who were not heroes, "You need to get out of here, now!"
That was all the blue-haired guy needed, and he dropped the chair in his hands and dashed out of the closest exit, using the smoke screen for cover. Izuku turned to the woman to yell at her to follow and, suddenly, she was no longer there.
Eyes wide behind his mask, he looked around, trying to figure out where she went when he heard commotion inside the shield. He darted past the smoke screen, and to his complete surprise, found her in the middle of the circle, disarming the guy who had shot at Dynamight, while lashing a kick at the other guy who fired at him.
It only took a split second for The Handler to react, throwing up another shield wall within the dome, separating it into two halves as the woman continued to take down the gunmen.
However, the moment the second gunman went down, she spun and in the blink of an eye, appeared in between Nemoto and the Handler.
'Teleportation…?'
Whatever it was, it clearly rattled the villainous duo, and the Handler ducked out of the way of her attack, bringing his own fist around towards her chest. She moved to counter him, but realized too late he was not actually trying to punch her. With a burst of pink light, a small shield erupted, slamming into her chest and sent her flying out of the shield dome.
Before she could crash into the wall, Izuku had responded, yanking her towards him with Black Whip and catching her in his arms. As he set her down, he could not help but ask, "Are you okay?"
She steadied herself with a hand on his shoulder, pressing her other hand to her chest. Voice raspy, she replied, "Yeah. We're going back in. Get ready to attack."
"...We..?" He managed to get the word out just as his world shifted and he found himself inside the pink dome. Oh.
Training and instinct kicked in, and Izuku–no–Determination moved, fueled by One for All surging through his body as he body slammed into The Handler, sending him tumbling outside of his own shield where Bakugou was waiting. As Nemoto turned to run, he shot out a tendril of Black Whip, wrapping it around the man, subduing him.
Two explosions later, and the shield around them dissipated. The Handler lay on the floor, with Dynamight holding a fist to the back of his head.
As Izuku wrapped another tendril of Black Whip around The Handler, Bakugou rolled off, grunting as he got to his feet. "Target secured."
"The explosions could be heard from outside the building. We should vacate the premises quickly before anyone investigates."
"Not yet," Bakugou growled, turning to the woman standing behind Izuku. "Who the hell are you?"
"C'mon, Dynamight," Izuku started, "She helped–"
"I don't fuckin care that she helped, asswipe. How'd you know who I was? Why are you here? We ought to arrest you, too, and why the hell did you throw the goddamn fight?!"
"Drop it, Dynamight. You need to get out of there. Just take her in, and we can question her later."
As Bakugou muffled a scream of frustration, Izuku sighed painfully, turning to the woman. With a deeper pitch than he normally used as Determination, he spoke. "I'm sorry, but we need you to come with us. I'd prefer you do so without resisting." The unspoken "but" was the extra coil of Black Whip that extended from his hand, ready to subdue her if needed.
He hated this.
"Nah, I fuckin' dare ya to put up a fight," Bakugou spat, hands flexing. "Make my fuckin' day, Princess."
"...No thanks."
And with that, Ochako clapped her hands together, disappearing from the room with a pop.
XX
AN: About Bakugou's Quirk: I'm aware that the official description of his sweat is "Nitroglycerin-like" and there's debate about the chemical compound and what it entails. For the sake of this story, I'm not saying it's Nitroglycerin, but I am saying it had a distinct, cloying odor, and it's concentrated enough that licking it probably would make you feel like shit for a while.