I had watched a UA Sports Festival on television before- was there anyone in Japan who hadn't? Most, though, probably hadn't had to stay up late, wait for their mom to be tucked in bed and dead to the world, completely unaware of their nocturnal child screening the 3 AM re-run like a crusty-eyed little schemer, practically green with nerves for the young participants- ones who had performed hours earlier, rather than the current viewing time.
That jittery fear, watching and rooting for those I thought looked the kindest, showed restraint or good sportsmanship, didn't hold a candle to what I felt now, sitting next to Toshinori and watching my babies file into the roaring arena like lambs brought to a feast.
A yowl startled those around us, one frayed head of straw whipping in my direction while simultaneously trying to move away. I didn't release my death grip, eyes still glued to the cherub-faced students. Some looked just as petrified, ogling the thousands-upon-thousands of onlookers viewing their every move.
"Chiyo! Chiyo, please, you're going to break my hand-"
"This is madness," I breathed.
Toshinori at last freed himself, shaking out bloodless fingers and looking suddenly much more frightened of his favorite teacher buddy.
This was madness; they were children, some with powerful, dangerous quirks that they were about to use against one another. What did that teach about heroism? How was this enforcing good ethics? Be the best or don't be anything?
A phone buzzed, taking Toshinori's attention with it. I continued my grim-faced gaze upon the arena.
They could be scouted, sure, but the underlying idea that there were winners and losers in heroism- that they were about to wield their quirks against one another to showcase who was the alpha dog- was rotting my stomach with bile. They were still just kids.
"It's all highly monitored, Chiyo; there are referees and pro heroes everywhere, who will step in at a moment's notice if something goes too far," It was nice how he was trying to comfort me- like an insurance rep apologizing after your house had been burnt to the ground by a completely preventable fire. Midnight was being her overzealous self, introducing Bakugo as the UA representative. Who in their right mind made that call?
Just as predicted, Bakugo made a comment that solidified his unlikability and further enticed my rage.
"Fifteen pages."
Toshinori blinked, uncomprehending. My persona cooled, icy in the direction of the first years filing out to begin the initial challenge; an obstacle course-foot race to the finish line. "Fifteen pages on the immorality of the Sports Festival and its impact on adolescents-"
Colossal hands wrapped around the closest one to him, seeming to forget the fear of moments ago. His boxy smile was exasperated as he patted my hand. "I know it's hard to understand, but try to think of it as an alternative to other high schools' baseball leagues; there are set rules, boundaries, and goals. They're not out to kill or harm each other, but show their ability to work under pressure, utilize their quirks, and make level-headed decisions in the face of battle."
Shota had consoled me with something similar, pointing out extreme quirk use would even be detrimental to their impressions on hero onlookers; no one wants a destructo-type who can't show self restraint.
Watching Todoroki obliterate a bunch of colossal robots with an icy flourish, regardless of the students around him, didn't really seem to match the anti-destructo idea as the crowd roared with approval. My eyes rolled to Toshinori. He pinked, waving his hands nervously.
"They're okay! Everyone's okay! And look-" He gestured to a mega screen, where the next round of students faced another swarm of gigantic, violent-looking robots.
The school could afford this shit but not provide a dental plan covering oral surgery?
"The students who entered UA through recommendation, like Yaoyarozu, didn't face these like the others in the hero course did."
In an instant she created a canon, obliterating the obstacles in her path. I pumped a fist with a cheer. Pride warmed my cheeks. "Go! Fight! Just- be safe about it!"
A few teachers behind us chuckled. I fell back in my seat in a rush, having forgotten myself and who mostly comprised the seats around me. A chipper Toshinori worsened the situation by loudly trying to comfort me, commenting on how I had nothing to be embarrassed about. Naturally, my embarrassment grew ten degrees higher.
My phone vibrated and I relished the distraction.
Three missed calls from: Mom
1 new text from: Manami Seto
-Are you at the Sports Festival? I bet you are!
"Hey, look over here," I drew Toshinori's attention, giving a thumbs up as I turned the phone camera to us. The sunflower pulled its roots from the ground to flee the lens. I lowered the phone, surprised. "Toshi, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to freak you out."
He looked like a scarecrow blowing in the wind, the way he shook his head in apology. "Sorry! Sorry, I'm just not a very photogenic person."
A distinct snort came from two seats over. His face was covered by a gas mask of sorts, and a cowboy hat shaded his features. Snipe, I think? Toshinori shot him a look and the gun-slinging hero coughed. I turned the camera to the arena instead, snapping a photo of the first students returning from the race.
-Yep! No All Might in sight, but the first "battle" is just finishing up!
The clover head of Izuku Midoriya ran through, Todoroki and Bakugo hot on his heels. Toshinori let out a cheer that was easily buried in the rowdiness of the crowd and I was caught by surprise all over again.
"I didn't know you had favorites."
"Who- what? Me? No, this is just general enthusiasm for our students- nothing of that nature- Just invigorated by the spirits of our young contestants! Ha ha ha!"
Why is he acting so weird?
He layered excuses like tiers to a wedding cake, only furthering my uncomfortable suspicion.
Why hide it? We all had our favorites; I did, certainly. It didn't mean I cared any less for the other students. It's more suspicious when you don't admit it.Kayama allotted time for the cavalry teams to assemble, points distributed by the last event's ranking. Midoriya was put at a distinct advantage. Sweat beaded Toshinori's face at the realization. Don't have favorites my ass.
I glanced down at my phone, a response from Manami highlighting the screen. The suspicion I felt against Toshinori turned sheepish with his notice, inquiring over who I was talking to; I hadn't even thought to mention the newest life event to my closest friend.
"After you told me about the hospital results, I did some sleuthing and tracked down Manami Seto."
Manami, who had messaged me first thing Sunday morning, inquiring about my date. Who I'd texted throughout the day, trying to catch up on fifteen years of life I hadn't experienced with her.
Toshi's full attention drew like a cat to cream, even as the next battle began.
"And?"
"And she's not the despicable villain I was led to fear my whole life. She was my best friend until Mom- for whatever reason, I believed a different variation of how we parted ways."
Even though I'd spent half of yesterday mulling over the betrayal, how to approach Mom with my new revelation, I'd just circled the drain; there was no outcome where one of us wasn't hurt.
But slightly more frightening than the heartache- what if she reverted me back to the girl locked in a delusion? How could I guarantee my safety when I finally approached her?
Like a satirical life-narrator, a familiar voice broke over the crowd, providing flat commentary on the events unfolding in the arena. Squinting, I could just spot him in the press box next to Present Mic. He'd chosen to wrap himself in those damned bandages again, like some moving Egyptian exhibit, practically unrecognizable save the clothes and unkempt hair.
Whatever Mom's quirk, whatever she was able to do to me, would have no effect on Eraserhead.
But what kind of daughter would I be, asking to meet with my own mother, a red-eyed, grouchy professional hero shadowing her every move? The thought of the doctors being wrong, that I had indeed suffered from essential tremors before Recovery Girl cured me, had also crossed my mind.
A ginger-haired woman with an exaggerated pout popped onto my phone, connected to a text message reading "JEALOUS!"
But that doesn't explain Manami. The idea she caused them is false. So what, then?
I'd all but forgotten my surroundings as Kayama announced the current qualifiers with two minutes left. My phone all but jumped out of my hand in surprise.
I guess I really do lock myself in my brain, if I couldn't hear this racket.
"Wait, how are there only three teams currently qualifying?"
"Look," Toshinori pointed. A plume of purple hair levitated about, neck laced with point banners. Mashirao Ojiro, bizarrely, composed one bracket of the cavalry. I didn't even know they knew each other.
"I'm afraid I don't know that student-"
"It's Hitoshi Shinso, from Gen Ed," I answered. Ever since our little after-class conversation, I'd taken more of a notice of him. Like Bakugo, he seemed particularly disinterested in my friendliness; also like Bakugo, his discomfort only enticed my teasing further. "He's really brilliant, actually. Where's-"
"Tsuyu Asui? With Mezo Shoji and- I'm not quite sure who else is under there. I'm afraid they're not going to survive to the next round," His gaunt face reddened at my look, off put by the word survive. "-but Momo Yaoyarozu will qualify!"
I continued to stare at Toshinori's blond head, perturbed. I hadn't mentioned Tsu or Yaoyarozu out loud, had I? They were, indeed, two of my favored students, but how did he know to mention them?
One minute left. In a whir too fast to follow, Yaoyarozu's team sprang forward, stealing Midoriya's points.
This is it.
Toshinori gripped my hand this time. I squeezed back, hopeful.
Fumikage Tokoyami had stolen a point bandanna.
Midoriya's team qualified by a hair.
Toshinori rose to his feet, bashfully pretending it was to use the restroom rather than cheering for his clearly-favored student scraped-by victory. I sent him off with a wave. He shimmied off, just as I considered; what if Toshinori really did have a psychic power? We'd never discussed his quirk before, had we? Maybe that's how he knew I was thinking about Tsu and Yaoyorozu.
My phone lit up, Manami's hair like its own glaring notifier. I texted a new question;
-Hey, do you know the hero Thirteen?
-Do I know what color the sky is? Or my own name?
I grinned, moving over a seat and turning camera mode back on.
"Hey, Thirteen. Wanna make someone's day with me?"
I'd actually thrown up.
Toshinori was kind enough to hold my hair back, providing a bag he'd been snacking on popcorn from.
Mom's lunacy in trying to protect me now seemed a lot less crazy as I watched my young students use excruciating amounts of power against each other; with every blow the nausea had grown, erupting during the battle between Uraraka and Bakugo. My head felt underwater, placed between my knees as I tried to compose myself.
"Are you- would you like me to get-"
I held a trembling hand up. With one long breath I eased back into my chair, eyes fixed on the bruised figure moving out of the arena on a stretcher. Toshinori scratched at his straw.
"That did get a little extreme, huh?"
I shook my head. A little? Bakugo destroyed half the arena and then Uraraka dropped it on him.
Explosion Boy did get some ethical points for facing his opponent fully, regardless of gender, but damn.
Cementoss had his hands full in restoring the arena after this mess; the next match would simply have to wait. My mind wandered back to the other day, when I'd pulled Bakugo aside. He'd been agitated, stressing the need to be the very best of UA. But why? To prove himself? To maintain his toughest-out-there reputation?
Midoriya had mentioned growing up with Bakugo during one of the after-school workouts he now participated in daily, commenting on his classmate's fiery disposition and talent with almost...admiration, inflected with a sadness I hadn't understood. Clearly his behavior hadn't changed much since childhood, but I had a feeling Midoriya hadn't changed much, either. They were polar opposites, both striving for the same goal.
Is that it? Is that why Bakugo pushes so hard?
The first round of matches concluded. I was happy to see a few of the other classes- namely 1B- had students make it this far. Yaoyorozu's loss flooded me with empathy; her quirk was brilliant, but Tokoyami was simply too quick. I hoped the hero-scouts at least took note of her abilities, even if they hadn't helped her much in this battle.
The camaraderie I was so accustomed to seemed absent, here. There was no room for hesitation or kindness in this winner-take-all arena. All the more reason to dislike the Sports Festival, I thought, ever the pessimist.
"Hey! Your kid is just about to go on!"
A skinny figure reappeared, new snacks in hand. He mumbled something about 'ridiculous assumptions' and bathroom breaks before settling back in beside me. "What'd I miss?"
"They settled the double-KO with arm wrestling. Kirishima won, then cried over manliness or something- it was hard to tell from here- and Kayama wriggled around like a schoolgirl. What's she teach, again?"
"Art History."
Ah.
The quarter-final rounds began with Todoroki and Midoriya, an icy explosion acting like a starting bell. Toshinori was practically green at the gills as Midoriya deflected the immediate frozen attack, a finger turning the color of Mineta's grape hair in the aftermath. My stomach roiled in response; in a few short moments, half his hand was mangled. The arena decayed with each passing blow, more extreme than any battle prior.
These are the very same kids I teach every day?
Before today, Shoto Todoroki had just been the quiet, polite boy in my afternoon class; one who wrote thoughtful answers and picked up forgotten paper scraps off the floor when the bell rang. Even Bakugo couldn't ever seem to get a rise out of him, no matter the taunts and brash claims on class subjects.
Someone had taken that Todoroki, replaced him instead with a carbon copy filled to the brim with howling beasts.
It didn't matter if Todoroki fell prey to self-inflicted hypothermia- Izuku Midoriya was going to destroy himself long before the ice would take his opponent. Worse- Midoriya seemed to be goading Todoroki into attacking further, both demonstrating incredible power.
A shout, a burst of ice, and Midoriya lost use of another appendage.
"Why isn't anyone stopping this," The question part fell off, long past its expiration date. "He's going to kill himself, Toshinori. He doesn't even understand what his body's experiencing."
The purple-black of his arms, fingers, his leg; they were indicators of all the broken vessels, blood blooming to fill the voids.
"Surely they're going to intervene," Thirteen murmured, seemingly just as in shock over the violence. My lungs filled with sand as oxygen tried to push through. Fingertips shook to their own accord, just like they used to.
Pillars of cement shot from the ground; too late.
The explosion rocked the entire arena, burnt the peach fuzz of my cheeks and evaporated tears I hadn't even known had formed.
Midoriya was slumped against a wall, unconscious.
Shoto Todoroki had won.
Toshinori vanished before the smoke could even clear. I didn't wait any longer than what it took for Midoriya's body to be stretchered away.
The hallways were empty, ricocheting my footsteps against the bare walls, the linoleum floors. I slowed, realizing the enormousness of the building around me; if I kept just aimlessly wandering I'd be here long after the tournament finished.
Submersion allowed me to feel out my surroundings, eyes closed and inhale slow, focusing on the sketches of each nearby person, on spindly systems near the correct size.
Arteries like backed up pipes brushed my consciousness, bloated and unnatural. I followed them down one hallway and up another, at last spotting the hand-made sign designating Recovery Girl's office.
Midoriya's shocked outweighed my own as I entered the nurse's station, his eyes nearly falling out of his beaten-up face with the glance he shot between both myself and his other visitor.
Toshinori Yagi stood beside the cast-and-stinted boy, looking particularly ill.
"What are you doing here?" All three of us asked in unison.
Agitation slowly ebbed into something angrier, something with horns and jagged teeth. "I came to check on my student, who everyone swore would be perfectly fine. And you-" I stalked over and pinched Midoriya's nose; the only- and last- piece of him which was unharmed. "You will be doing an independent essay over the detriment of quirk abuse and self-sacrifice, no less than ten pages. Do you understand?"
"Y-yes ma'am."
Well, at least he's compliant. His body was so bandaged Eraserbrain could barely compete, skin still holding a sickly coloring and a slight tremble. I blew out a breath before hugging the side of his head to my chest.
He- they, all of them- were just kids.
"Midoriya, if you ever make my heart burst like that again I'll expel you myself- regardless of whatever Principal Nezu says."
He was given no time to respond- the door blasted open to reveal three fearful faces, surrounding Midoriya in seconds.
"Deku!"
"Midoriya, that was crazy!"
"I totally thought you were dead!"
A small figure- one originally sitting quietly at her desk- nearly had steam growing from her ears now, watching over her patient like a territorial mother hen. I patted Midoriya's thick hair, preparing for the forced exit about to come. "I'm proud of you, Midoriya. Even if you didn't win, you acted heroically."
He looked like I'd just told him Christmas was coming early. He's definitely more like Toshinori than I thought.
Something suddenly weighed down his features. I tilted my head, just as Recovery Girl began to explode on the teenage intrusions. "What is it, kid?"
"Can you- is Todoroki okay?"
Leave it to Midoriya to be worried about his opponent, even as he lay minutes from surgery. I ruffled his hair again.
"I'll go check. Worry about yourself though, okay? You look like you went through a wood chipper."
The fiesty old medic shooed the three teenagers into the hall and I followed, ignoring the slamming door behind us. Brown eyes blinked up at me. I wrapped Uraraka in an embrace, having almost forgotten the harrowing experience she'd had practically moments earlier.
I'm getting too touchy in my old age, I thought sagely. That or I'm turning into a matron to these little hazardous teenagers.
"Uraraka, you did so good out there! Your strategy really shows how much you've grown; that was brilliant,"
"Yes, I agree with Ms. Tsutomi! A job well done," Iida praised along with a jig of odd Iida-movements. Uraraka's usually-pink cheeks rosied a shade darker.
"Thanks! It really wasn't that impressive, though."
"Better than Mineta," I chirped to the offense of one purple-balled brat suddenly going berserk at our waists. "He didn't even make it to the third rounds,"
"I was robbed! Cheated, by the cruel mistress of fate!" Fake tears burst like geysers from Mineta's snotty face. He reminded me of those innocent-looking kids at the grocery store, who were always two seconds away from a meltdown. Just like when those kids got what they wanted Mineta's tantrum suddenly ended, a thought striking his baubled brain. A thumb hitched in Iida's direction.
"Hey Tsutomi, wouldn't it make sense if Iida joined us on our workout routine, since running is kind of his thing?"
I really didn't like the way he made "our workout routine" sound so intimate.
I really didn't like the way both Iida and Uraraka were now gaping at me, taking Mineta's tone the exact way it sounded.
"First of all, it's Miss Tsutomi; just because we aren't at school doesn't mean I'm not still your teacher," Mineta at least had the decency to look guilty. "And I don't want to bother or take anyone away from their already-busy schedules,"
"To what is Mineta referring to?" Iida asked. I staggered over his ever-formal language. He talks like this even when he's not at school?
"Er, a few students meet up after school to help me get in better shape. We run, mostly, but Midoriya and Yaoyarozu have added some weight training-"
"We're basically training her to become the next Mount Lady. Everyone's calling it Operation Submersion, but I've termed it Operation Subversion," Mineta bragged with his nubby arms casually placed behind his head. I raised my knee to brush off my calf, kicking the little pervert over in the process.
None of this seemed to have affected the potential addition to the team; if fact, I don't think Iida'd heard anything since I'd said the word run.
"You're desirous of enhancing your cardiovascular system and fine-tuning quadriceps?" Again with the weird language. Iida readjusted his glasses, gaze hidden in a sudden glare before reappearing, startlingly serious. "You have come to the right place."
"Would it be all right if I joined, too?" Uraraka looked invigorated, pumping a fist between us. "I need all the extra training I can get! If I had been faster, I might've been able to grab Bakugo before he blew up the stage- Oh!" Her round face inflated. "What if we added some sort of hand-to-hand combat? Or martial arts?"
"I'm not really qualified- I don't know if I should be-" I stumbled over excuses, trying to find a way out of this. Running and weight lifting was one thing- there was no physical contact. The last thing I needed was a lawsuit over bubble-boy sticking himself to my chest or something just as dastardly. Uraraka nodded feverishly.
"Right, I understand. But maybe just demonstrations? I bet Ojiro could teach us!"
This was getting wildly out of hand. I'd originally started this band to tone my endurance and one day run into Aizawa for flirting purposes. Wasn't this whole mission futile now that I had him in my clutches?
A flash of teeth in a crooked beak, the sound of bones snapping, and the feel of Tomura Shigaraki's cold, dry finger pressed against my face entered my mind's eye, just as quickly erased by the memory of my classroom decorated in my honor with twenty cheery faces thanking me for protecting them.
No. There's more than one reason why I'm doing this.
"I'm glad to have you both join us. Ask Ojiro if you want, but just demonstrations," I started a slow backwards walk, slapping Iida on the shoulder as I went. "Good luck out there! We'll be rooting you on from the stands!"
They were off, lost to the world as they discussed the new implementations of Operation Submersion.
Seeing them in one piece, cut and bruised but otherwise unharmed, soothed the fear raking my body. Even Midoriya would make a full recovery, though I still didn't feel the slightest regret in assigning him more work. Wanting to be a hero was valiant- shredding yourself to ribbons in the process wasn't.
-Where are you?
My phone buzzed with the text. I unlocked the screen, typed a quick side-step.
-How can you tell I'm not in my seat? Spying on me?
The press box wasn't anywhere near where the teacher seats were. Had he scoped out the seating arrangement beforehand and known where to look? Even still, that was some monumental eyesight.
Something in the air itched my skin as I moved through the building, following the signs to find the contestant waiting areas. I scratched at my scalp, irritable. My lips felt chapped, eyes too dry. I turned the corner, quickening my pace, and ran directly into a wall of molten steel that knocked me to the ground. What the hell?
"Excuse me," A voice of granite accused, stepping around me and continuing on. As if it had been entirely my fault. As if I weren't even worth the trouble of helping back up. Flames licked around his massive shoulders as he stalked off, not once glancing back.
"Asshole," I muttered. Was he the cause of the dried air? I scratched at my hair again, annoyed. In the collision my phone had disappeared, flying across the hall like a frisbee gone rogue. It now rested by the feet of a sole witness- one I hadn't even noticed.
"Ms. Tsutomi?"
This was the voice I was accustomed to; soft-noted, concerned. I stood quickly, phone forgotten as I moved towards Todoroki.
"Hey! Are you alright? That was some fight out there," His shoulders went rigid under my hands, but the wide-eyed, vulnerable look on his face assured me it wasn't the physical contact completely bewildering him. I grabbed his cheeks with one hand, turning his face from side to side. "You haven't been to Recovery Girl; do you need to? I can take you to her, if you want."
"No, I-" He seemed wholly perturbed; the most emotion I'd ever seen him display. Maybe it is the physical contact. I took a small step back, just in case. "I have another battle coming up. Why- Why are you here?"
Apparently my hands couldn't abide by the non-touching rule. I ruffled his hair at such a dumb question. "To check on you, kid! Midoriya may have lost and been in worse condition, but he landed some pretty solid blows on you, too."
"Midoriya. Is he okay?"
"He's going to be fine."
He seemed conflicted. Relieved, but lost in his own thoughts. Todoroki bent down, absently picked up my phone and handed it to me. No cracks, hallelujah.
"Sorry about him."
"Hm?" I looked behind us, as if the colossal flaming jackass would still be standing there. "Do you know him?"
"He's my father," Todoroki spit out the word like it was a curse. I turned back in surprise.
"Isn't your father Endeavor?"
It was Todoroki's turn to look surprised. Amused, even. "You didn't recognize him?"
"I, er, I don't- I never used to follow hero news, much. Except All Might and Miruko, because, I mean, come on, she's such a badass. But oddly adorable?" I was just digging the hole deeper and deeper. "Not- not that Endeavor isn't cool too, but- you know," I stole the embarrassment sweat off my face, creating a little tsunami in the palm of my hand. "Water quirk. Fire quirks are cool, but kind of wig me out."
"You...really didn't recognize him?"
I shook my head, too far gone to even pretend I had.
A slow, creeping smile turned his face in quiet delight.
My hand blurred the white into the red, giving his head one final pat before pulling away. "Be careful out there, okay? You're all so important to me, and I've already thrown up once; please don't make me do it again."
He nodded as if this was something he had total control over. I smiled anyway, turning to meander back down the way I came.
There was little doubt in my mind that Katsuki Bakugo would win against whoever was his opponent; Todoroki would, too.
Which left only the most explosive final battle possible.
"I don't understand."
"She saw me before I had a chance to escape; this wasn't my idea."
"Sure it wasn't."
"Hey- are you talking to her? Your girllllfriend? Tell her I said hi."
"Stop it, let go of my arm- Look, I can't make you believe me, Tsutomi."
"I bet you didn't fight her though, did you."
"ERASER TELL HER I SAID HI OR I'LL SHOUT IT ACROSS THE STADIUM-"
"Yamada says hi! There, okay? Now sit down."
There was an odd thumping sound and Present Mic went quiet. Whimpering could just be heard through the phone. A grin spread across my face like peanut butter.
"You shouldn't abuse your friends, Eraserface. Are you embarrassed over us, or something? I know we haven't discussed terms; do you not want to label anything? It's early, so I guess I understand. But does that mean we can still see other people?" I moved the phone closer to my mouth. "Yamada! What are you doing tonight?! Want to go-"
Three muted beeps disrupted my tease- Shota had hung up on me. It didn't matter; I'd already made my way to their location, listening to the jittering of a cockatiel and grumbling of its disgruntled counterpart.
"I haven't seen you ever get so worked up over a woman before, Eraser. Was that a blush I just witnessed?"
"You're two seconds away from needing these stupid bandages yourself, Present. Then she can nag at you instead."
"She's like a foot shorter than you- do you have to, like, stoop down to kiss her? How does that- Ouch."
Using Submersion outside myself still felt a little dangerous, but Yamada was knocked off balance so easily it didn't even seem like an abuse of power. Yellow hair looked like wheat growing from the floor, face flat against the tile as I politely knocked and let myself in.
"Yamada! Are you okay?" I feigned concern, pulling him up a little more roughly than necessary. His glasses tumbled down his nose as I thumped his shoulders. I looked accusingly at Shota. "Aizawa, what did you do to him?"
Two bloodshot eyes watched me, clearly unconvinced by my acting. I cheesed like a political candidate up for re-election.
Nervousness had nibbled at the idea of seeing him again after Saturday's date, but the overzealous healthcare once again provided by Recovery Girl stole away a lot of the problem; he looked more comical than anything, rather than the stupid-attractive, bedroom-eyed man of before.
"Is Midoriya okay?"
"Yep. Todoroki, too."
I'd missed several battles in my wandering. Tokoyami had made quick work of his fight against Ashido, Cementoss now resurfacing the acid marks left in their wake. Iida had also come out victorious in a two-minute battle against Shiozaki. I'll have to commend her in class for making it at least this far.
The final rounds were composed of only 1-A students. I shouldn't be surprised; they'd already been through so many trials of combat already. But the premonition of what was to come was still curdling my stomach, making it impossible to relax. An elbow nudged my side, expression attentive even under all those ridiculous wrappings. I tugged on the one over his mouth.
"How are you even able to talk through these?"
"Present Mic does enough talking for both of us."
"The artist is nothing without his gift, but the gift is nothing without an audience," Yamada gestured grandly at the arena before us. I was pretty sure he was misquoting someone but didn't comment. In the next instant the voice hero produced a chair, placing it between his and Shota's with a friendly smile. I stumbled over myself, moving towards the door.
"Oh, I shouldn't- This is really official, I wouldn't want to accidentally say something or-"
"It's fine!" Yamada assured, rushing me like an escaped convict. "You have to press the sound on before anything is picked up. No one takes notice of us up here, anyway."
A hand shot out faster than I could react, pushing down on my shoulder and plopping me into the metal chair. I looked at Shota, unsure. He gave a slight nod of affirmation and the tension in my spine unwound just a little. So long as I don't have to say anything.
"How did you find us, anyway?"
Ah.
Yamada seemed absorbed in cleaning his shades, ignoring the glare I currently burned into his turned back. "Yamada texted me directions. I didn't know you weren't in on this, sorry."
"At least with you here maybe he'll stop screaming into the microphone."
"Don't hold your breath on that one," I muttered back. Yamada, now satisfied with his glasses, began gurgling from a paper cup and running through speech warm-ups.
"We're back, ladies and gents! And on to the Semi-Final Rounds!"
Iida gave a valiant fight but was simply no match for Todoroki and his wide range of combat styles. The battle lasted only slightly longer than Bakugo and Tokoyami's; Dark Shadow, while powerful, seemed to have an Achilles' heel when it came to bright light. I'd never thought about day versus night quirks before. With that kind of quirk, he really could be a ninja.
"They're not training to be ninjas, Chiyo."
I startled in Shota's direction. Whether I'd spoken aloud or he simply knew me that well remained to be seen.
After several hard hits, Kirishima's hardening finally cracked, dubbing Bakugo the winner.
I'd been afraid of this outcome ever since Todoroki's battle against Sero. Two hard-hitting quirks, going head-to-head in the finale. My foot tapped nervously. A bottle of water sat near Shota and I stole it, drained its contents in mere seconds.
"Placing bets, anyone?" Yamada swiveled in his chair, eyebrows wriggling like some sketchy card dealer. We looked at him in mutual disdain and for a small moment I feared turning into one of those too-similar couples that people mistook for siblings. I made my face angrier to differentiate from Shota's- just in case.
"I'm already ninety percent against this entire festival; don't push me over the last ten percent," I answered flatly. Yamada spun a few times in his chair, stopping to place an elbow on the table and cradle his dreamy-eyed face.
"Fine, then. How was your date? Was Eraser the perfect gentleman? Did he take you to a cat cafe, or make you work community service hours for fun?" His eyelashes bat like a schoolgirl's. An exhausted sigh answered from the eraser in question, and I wondered just how long Yamada had been harassing him up here between the audible commentary.
"You mean he didn't tell you what we did?" I looked at Yamada in surprise. "It must've taken so much time to plan; I thought maybe you were in on it."
"Huh?" Yamada sat up. "Where did you go?"
I turned to Shota, eyes wide. "You really didn't tell him? Is it a secret?"
"What? Where did he take you?" Yamada's voice rose an octave, leaning towards me with urgency. "Eraser, what happened?"
Shota shook his head. "I didn't tell him. A first date is sacred, and this one was monumental."
A fist pounded into the metal table. I was too busy letting the gooey lovesickness muck up my organs to notice Yamada wailing behind me.
Monumental. What a nice word. I'd never appreciated it enough before.
"If you guys keep staring at each other like that I'm going to throw up," A sullen cockatiel grumbled, slumped bonelessly in his chair. Dramatic music was beginning and I pulled my gaze away at last, taking a deep breath towards the newly-refurbished arena.
The final match was beginning.
It was, perhaps, less violent than Todoroki and Midoriya's fight, but just as nauseating and horrifying.
Midnight intervened as Bakugo chased after an unconscious Todoroki, enraged over the too-easy outcome. My chair's crash had screeched through the microphones when the dust settled and the limp body of my student became visible, caught in an icicle the size of a building.
But at least it was over.
"Now what?"
"In about ten minutes we'll start the closing ceremony and award the top three winners. In this case four, since Iida and Tokoyami tied for third. All Might will present the awards."
"Will all the students be there?"
Shota nodded.
"Can I go down there?"
What was with everyone looking at me with such shock these days?
"I don't recommend going during the ceremony, but once the awards are concluded, reporters and the like often storm the field. You could mix in with them. All the students will have to exit through the main lobby; that'd probably be the best place to run into them."
"Do you have to stay up here, after the awards conclude?" I asked. "You should come with me to congratulate the students, since you both have them all in class, too."
The two men looked at each other. I tried not to snort; they looked like two high school boys being asked to partake in an impromptu Shakespearean skit. I shook my head.
"I'm going to head down there now. If you decide to come, find me."
The hallways were starting to crowd, early birds using this time to hurry back to their cars before traffic really hit. I picked my way through, taking the stairs instead of the overcrowded elevators to reach the arena base ground.
The space was even more frightening up close. The crowd surged like a tidal wave, near deafening from this level. I peeked around the colossal wall.
Students were in uniform lines around a tiered award podium, some looking amused at the teeth-gnashing first place recipient weighted down by chains and weights and foaming at the mouth. Oh, Bakugo.
Todoroki, meanwhile, looked lost. His fire quirk hadn't made another appearance and he was defeated relatively easily, all things considered. I wondered if this is what had enraged Bakugo so ferociously, or the fact his opponent had used both quirks against another classmate- the one who seemed to get under his skin the most.
A giant streak of primary colors blurred through the air and landed in front of the winners. All Might, in all his giant glory, approached the podium with thick, golden medals cast around one muscly arm. He embraced each student and some childhood part of me swooned. My phone buzzed in answer, as if sensing my weakness.
-Try to control yourself.
Could he see me or was I just that predictable? I gave a furtive glance around, just to make sure.
-I'm more into the pale brooding types these days. Besides, I'm seeing someone, so.
Reporters and reps I hadn't even noticed suddenly stormed past me as the award ceremony concluded, stampeding the students whose attention was finally freed. I hung back; they'd have to come this way to get back to the locker rooms, anyway. The General Education and Class 1-B students mostly comprised the back rows and were the first ones to start filing towards the exit.
Wild lavender hair caught my eye. Hands in pockets and looking decidedly over the event as he ambled from the ceremony, Hitoshi Shinso was wonderfully startled when I punched him in the arm.
"Shinso! You did such a great job!" He looked at me as if I'd sprouted a second pair of eyes. I punched him again for emphasis. "I'm telling you, there's a reason you're in the hero ethics course! You're going to be such a cool hero! I can already picture your underground following."
"I didn't even make it past the first rounds." Shinso answered, but the uncomfortable way he rubbed at his neck made clear the words hit home. I grinned even as he sighed, like my pride exhausted him even more than the sports festival itself.
The hero courses were now exiting the field; Shinso seized the distraction and disappeared just as Class 1-B neared the entrance. A few students noticed me and waved. I moved towards them, a smile still intact.
"Kendo! Shiozaki! You guys were amazing!" I fist-bumped the blushing redhead, imagining what such a gesture would look like if she used her battle fist instead. Sihozaki folded her hands to the heavens, thanking the powers that be for her performance. Several other students from 1-B wandered over as well, forming a semi-circle in front of me. I was reminded of all those little kids Manami had been reading to, surrounding their teacher. The glowiness of the feeling was almost embarrassing.
"You guys have put so much hard work into your abilities! I'm very impressed with your class's cooperation with one another. And Monoma!" I slapped the blonde on the shoulder- a little harder than necessary. "Way to make the scariest student your number one enemy, kid!"
That crazed look overcast his little pretty-boy face. "Ha! Don't make me laugh! Those idiot 1-A kids should fear me; they've only seen a brief glimpse of class 1-B's prowess-"
An engorged hand clonked Monoma cold, fading his monologue into the netherverse. Kendo caught him with a shake of her head. "Sorry about him."
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't used to it," Came my easy response, laughing. The groups were coming on quicker now. A certain pack of students hovered nearby, watching me with open curiosity. I waved.
"Hey, Kendo. Find me before school, okay? There's something I want to ask you about." The redhead nodded and I threw her a grin, waving a good-bye as I moved towards another bunch of familiar faces.
"Guys! You all did so good!"
There I went hugging kids again, too overcome with emotions to not strangle the life out of Asui.
They were safe. They had done well. But most importantly they're all in one piece.
"You know those people?" Mineta asked, still looking at where a chunk of Class 1-B stood, fretting over what to do with Monoma's unconscious body.
"Did you think I only taught your class? I have all the hero course students and a handful of the general education ones, too."
Mineta seemed dumbstruck by this. In fact, half the group did. Maybe we should work on more cooperative learning tasks, I thought, a little exasperated.
"Shoji! Awesome idea with the cavalry battle! And Kirishima! What valiance!" I swung my hand out; Kirishima caught it in a manly embrace, looking misty-eyed. "Yaoyorozu, you were outstanding! I know your final battle didn't go as planned, but I'm really proud of you."
A blush rose in Yaoyorozu's pallor, though she still couldn't quite smile. I guided her into my arms, feeling on the verge of tears. "You all did so well. Please don't be disappointed in any of your performances. You're all going to make great heroes today."
"Typical woman, getting all emotional-"
No one even had time to slap Mineta- the angry stomping of the Sports Festival victor was cutting a merciless path directly through the group, knocking Mineta upside down where he stuck, bouncing on the baubles.
"Out of the way, nerds!" Bakugo spat, face still stuck in that hideous grimace. Todoroki followed behind him simply by chance, expression vague.
Well, seeing his idol certainly didn't calm him down...At all.
The hissing, spitting teenager only momentarily calmed when I caught him and Todoroki by the head, pulling them both down in a weird side-temple embrace. Two additional heartbeats ricocheted against me in sudden embarrassment, skin aflame.
"I'm really proud of both of you," My voice was lost in the surge of students around us, but loud enough for their near faces. Bakugo stilled for the briefest second before ripping himself away, angry-stomping even more aggressively than before and muttering to himself like a flustered cat. Todoroki seemed even more moonstruck upon my release, dazedly looking from me to the wide-eyed students around us.
"Bakugo's still the most terrifying mofo, but you're a close second, Todoroki!" Mineta broke the spell. Kaminari nodded in furious agreement.
"That was seriously the sickest thing I've seen in years. I thought we were all going to die."
The semi-circle began to form around the quiet half-and-half student, faces full of awe and admiration. Todoroki didn't seem to know how to respond. The shift allowed me to drift away, giving a thumbs up when Midoriya looked my way. He was still wrapped up and bruised, but the smile he sent was enough to assure me he would be fine.
All my students, safe at last.
...Until the next stupid disaster they got themselves into.
