I feel astronomically unprepared for what is about to transpire.
Sunday slipped by like a daydream, half spent lazing in an impromptu bed surrounded by soft lights and each other's quiet breathing, sleeping off the too many sugary snacks of the night before.
The other half was spent attempting to leave said bed, only to be drawn right back in by the way Shota's hair formed a cowlick to the left of his temple when he finally, sleepily, sat up, or the way my hands were drawn like magnets to his moonstone skin, unable to let him stray too far before I pulled him back. For once there had been no stubbornness; he complied with zest, stripping away any attempt at demurity until every inch of me had been touched by his exploring hands, his adventurous mouth.
He didn't seem remotely abashed by the still-pinked swell of my lips on Monday morning. If anything he seemed nearly pleased with himself, a hint of a smirk kissing his right cheek's dimple on and off while we packed our respective cars for the long week ahead. I tried to play the disapproving girlfriend to the best of my ability, grimacing and shaking my head, but then he'd look at me straight on and the smirk would suddenly look boyish- glowing, practically, and my hands would be slipping into his hair or I'd be jumping into his arms before self restraint could kick in. Delirium took hold at his quick response, just as urgent in need, bracing my body against his and the kitchen wall, closing the car's trunk to lift me onto its sun warmed surface, using every final second to memorize the feel of the other.
Maybe I didn't actually need to train with a terrifying pro hero.
Maybe I could fit myself into Shota's suitcase, wrapped up like another piece of luggage.
A tangle of dirty shoe laces and a sunflower head skittered across my conscience.
I sighed, pulling into UA's parking lot to idle next to Shota's car, game plan unchanged.
Today would mark the first day of training for all of us.
I slipped out of my car and into his. Already he was molding into Teacher Aizawa, spine bending like a willow, sheathed behind all his barriers. The faculty lot was abandoned- who would be here so early and in summer?- emboldening my hunger like a moth to flame.
His heartbeat jumped against my ribs when I slid into his lap, pushing aside the mess of hair and scarf to find his face and convey everything I felt for him and the stretching week ahead of us and the six dozen emotions and thoughts about both subjects running through my mind. He didn't even glance around for witnesses like I expected, just answered the kiss with a feverency that made my chest ache.
"Don't try and bring a woman dressed like a cat home. I swear I'll cut the crotch out of all your jumpsuits," I said a little too breathlessly, holding the sides of his face in my hands. He nodded in solemn understanding. Either he took my threat way too seriously or was too caught in the moment. Hands slid from my waist to fit between my ribs. He brushed the loose hair from my face, eyes caught on my flushed mouth before flicking up to meet mine.
"Promise to be careful. Don't push yourself over the limit. If the facility, the training, or anything else starts to overwhelm you, promise me you'll take a break."
"I promise."
"And don't fall in love with another mammal."
My head fell back as I laughed. With the movement my ass fell back too, alerting anyone in a mile radius of our location as I landed on the car horn. I let out a shriek of surprise, thrashing quickly into the passenger seat, face igniting with the sound of his deep laughter. It only seemed to grow in mirth when I bolted from the car and half-tripped, half-ran towards the student meeting area.
They trickled in, sleepy-eyed and surprised by my presence. I cheered and bowed and hugged them all, regardless of their shyness or straight refusals.
A particular ash-blonde could've sold the pigment of his blooming face to an artist for a great deal of money. I couldn't determine whether anger or embarrassment caused the deep cherry color as I hugged his hissing head to my own, a loving mother saying farewell to her only begotten son.
"Promise to work hard, but don't kill yourself trying to show off. Don't do anything stupid, either. I won't be around this time to save you, Kacchan."
"Let me go, you crazy old lady!"
Bakugo ripped himself from my hold. I smiled. The blush increased, hidden under his raging eyes and smoking nostrils.
"Momo, Iida, watch over the class. Make sure everyone represents our school well," I directed a pointed look at several particular students- namely, the little purple-balled pervert and Izuku Midoriya. Trouble seems to follow that kid like a tail.
Iida gave a bizarre salute. The conviction on Momo's face nearly toppled me over. I sufficed the urge by hugging her head to mine instead of swooning like Kayama. Blood flowed quickly to her ivory face, but unlike Bakugo, she didn't nearly cleave my arms out of their sockets trying to flee.
Class 2-B must be loading somewhere else. I would've liked to say good-bye to them as well, but with the arriving bus and Class 1-A's homeroom teacher finally strolling in, I supposed I wouldn't see them again until the next school semester.
The bus area went strangely quiet.
With a glance around at half of their gooey-eyed smiles, the realization of why struck with all the subtly of a thrown brick.
"On the bus. Now." Aizawa barked with surprising intensity. Class 1-A startled, though still didn't move as quickly as I would've expected.
His hair began to lift.
Their footfalls hurried.
"Your discipline is failing I see, Aizawa," I said.
"Always making me play the bad cop, huh Tsutomi," He shook his head, hands burying in hidden pockets. "Typical woman."
Tenya Iida's shouted directions were very clearly ignored; faces doubled up to peer out the bus windows, blatant and terribly curious. Aizawa sighed.
"We should've stayed in the car."
"Nah. You'll have fun. Just not too much fun. Remember: more of them are scared of you, but the most frightening ones are scared of me."
"Are you...threatening me?" Shota turned, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Has Operation Submersion become an assassination squad?"
"Pick up a stray cat out there and find out."
Shota took a step closer. I tried not to blush at the way he glanced down at my mouth, eyes slowly roaming to mine with more deviousness than a schoolteacher should probably be capable of.
"I can't kiss you with their prying eyes watching us. It's a long bus ride."
"Mm," I nodded in agreement, folding my arms. "They're probably using Shoji to decipher what we're saying, even."
A cluster of little faces ducked in answer. Within seconds, though, they all reemerged, peering beside those shameless enough to have never looked away to begin with. A grin fought against my stoic teacher persona with a fencing sword.
"You better go. I wouldn't want to do or say anything embarrassing and make this trip feel even longer."
Shota Aizawa's dimple hid behind the layers. I witnessed it all the same. "Much appreciated."
"He's not even going to kiss her?" Someone blurted from a bus window.
The cacophony of other students pummeling the commenter fell into a deadly silence when Class 1-A's homeroom teacher entered the bus, hair imitating Medusa's and voice a gentle murmur of death.
My legs gave a jerk. I fought the urge to jump on the bus along with them, waving instead at the remaining faces looking over in my direction.
"Bye! Be safe!"
Shota's passive face appeared in a window. I cupped my hands around the face-splitting grin on my lips, shouting the rest, "I love you, Sho-Sho! Take care of our babies!"
My lasting memory of Shota Aizawa had to be enough to get me through the next month.
And this- of his wide, horrified eyes, mouth falling open like a great stupid fish and skin lacquered in ghostly white, right before the bus exploded in noise and screams and squeals- this would be The One.
My car nickered in front of a rather foreboding, windowless building, a single bag of essentials in the passenger seat. I tried to pass off the shaking in my knees on the remnants of Saturday's sugar rush, but who was I really kidding here?
The Gemini were a set of twins with an identical, time-warping quirk. While a week passed outside these walls, thirty-five would pass within. They must have this down to a fine art; with two tempus distorters, they could take shifts, never going beyond their fatigue point.
I wonder if the same will be said for me.
The Gemini greeted me at the entrance. Genetically, they're mirror images of one another, from the stark whiteness of their hair to the startling silver of their eyes, but their sense of clothing appeared as different as mine is from Shota's; one wore a sharp pants suit, blazer open and cut stylishly to size, while the other wore something akin to workout clothes, hair pulled into two long, tight braids, in deep contrast to the coiffed professional style of the other's.
"Welcome-" One said.
"-Chiyo Tsutomi," The other finished.
"We're Gemini," They said together.
This is going to get old fast.
"Because you've never been here before, we asked for you to arrive an hour early. Please, follow us."
I wondered if the facility always looked like this as we passed the main arena where- like I expected- a massive pool took up most of the space, glimmering like a barely-contained sea. Luckily my knees were too busy walking to buckle in preemptive fear.
We passed other areas as well- a cavernous room with a series of elliptical machines and various types of weights, another room with tatami mats and not much else, a classroom. The Gemini entered a moderate-sized kitchen, pivoting to stare at me with freaky synchronicity.
"In the Paradox, your body needs the same amount of nourishment as it would in real time-"
"More, actually, considering your training regime."
One twin opened the refrigerator, yielding a sizable amount of green bottles and unappetizing square packs wrapped in foil. The other threw open a set of cabinets. My stomach churned at the all-too-familiar sight.
"These are stamina bars. In the fridge, protein packs and nutrient-treated water. We have a synthesizer-quirk user who's helped us create a line of foods to enhance the Paradox experience-"
"You will only require about four hours of sleep each night, with the planned Paradox diet."
She said it like I should be excited.
"Is it...okay, for a person's body to experience this...experience?" I asked hesitantly. They nodded with the same startling timing as before.
"It will be hard, certainly-"
"But nothing is gained without hard work."
"Please," One began while kindly taking my bag, "Follow us to your room."
Would I be able to handle living on just four hours of sleep? Even if the stamina bars kept me awake, that didn't mean my brain would continue functioning as normally and happily as it did with a solid seven hours, right? And how much training could one take before needing rest? Was that the point of the protein packs?
"This is your room. Because one of us will be needed constantly, you and Kugo are the only two guests. His room is just down the hall. Recovery Girl, UA's medic, will be by every few days to check on you-"
"Even though we have our own medical staff," The more informal one muttered under her breath.
"There's a washer and dryer off the kitchen," The other interjected with a sharp look to her twin. "Please, use them whenever necessary. Once you're settled in, report to the dojo."
The tatami-floored room, I supposed. "Thank you. For all of this."
They both waved off my gratitude.
"We owe Kugo our lives-"
"He saved us, actually, when we were kids-"
"He saved you. I knew how to swim, but you dragged me down too in your stupidity-"
"If you knew how to swim, why were we both drowning-"
They continued to bicker, lost in their own world. I quietly shuffled into my room to lay out my few belongings.
The bed was small but comfortable. The dresser swallowed up all my clothes and seemed disappointed when I quickly ran out of items to feed it. There was no television, but why would there be? I'd only be in here for a few hours at a time. The attached bathroom displayed the same simplicity with a sink, shower, and toilet, all scrubbed tidy and smelling of lemon.
Did the Paradox begin as soon as I'd entered the building? I glanced at my hands. I didn't feel any different.
The Gemini's instructions were clear not to bring any electronics for fear of impacting their quirk or the Paradox, so I had little by way of comparing time. With nothing better to do I slipped back out of my room and towards the combat room- the dojo, she'd called it.
Do I sit? Kneel? And here I'd thought my student days were over. Ha.
Nerves jiggled my limbs as I sat, then stood, then sat again, trying to figure out the best way to appear for when my...what? Trainer? Teacher? showed up. He certainly wasn't my colleague- that implied a whole different level of equality I certainly wasn't privy to- and I wouldn't consider him my friend, having only met him once for a brief moment.
Amidst my internal spiral, a weighty presence moved down the hall. I stood with abruptness, red-faced but already aware when his imposing figure shadowed the doorway.
"He said you had a knack for sensing approaching danger. That's good."
I'm glad I went with standing; in a sitting position, I would've felt like an anchovy facing a great white shark.
Instead, I looked more like a baby seal gazing up at a killer whale.
"Yes, sir," I fell into a quick bow. "I'm Chiyo Tsutomi. Thank you for agreeing to this. I know how busy your schedule must be and am honored by your willingness to train me."
Training clothes similar to my own adorned his massive body rather than the suit and tie of before, taking a small bite out of his typically sinister appearance. Still, there was something rather off-putting by the inhumanness of his eyes, the glossiness of his dark skin. I tried not to focus on the clawed ends of his fingers when he spoke.
"It is my duty to help those in need, especially those seeking aid in bettering society. Don't think of this simply as a favor to All Might. I have expectations- high ones, at that- of you,"
I was startled by the elegance of his bow. Even still he towered over me.
"My name is Kugo Sakamata, known professionally as Gang Orca. Please refer to me as Sakamata or Gang Orca, whichever you prefer. I know this is an odd circumstance, given our close ages and careers, but within these walls I will act as your teacher."
"I understand."
He smiled. Two rows of sharp, jagged teeth, perfectly aligned to tear through the toughest flesh, gleamed in the light.
Suddenly Shota's apprehension made a lot more sense.
"All Might gave me a brief overview of your abilities. I thought it wise for us to have a little sparring match so I may assess for myself. Given your noviceness, I assumed the dojo would be preferable to you, as opposed to the main arena."
Taking the fish out of water, then. I refrained from cracking the joke when his teeth glimmered again.
"Are you ready?"
Regulation poured into my veins like a cold chill, relaxing my muscles, slowing the hiccuping speed of my breathing. Already he was circling me, corralling the minnow for an easy feast.
Kugo Sakamata- Gang Orca. Quirk: Orcinus. He could do anything an orca can, regardless of whether he's in the water. Intelligent, fast, strong.
I'd been too afraid to watch any video clips of him in action, but now regretted that decision.
He's a pro hero with at least twice my height, skill, weight, and abilities. The only advantage I had was the lack of knowledge he had on me. Toshinori, as much as I care for him, had surely only ever seen me as a dainty little flower only pretending to have thorns; he wouldn't have talked me up much.
The element of surprise would be the only way I stood a chance.
"I'm ready."
Sakamata moved with impeccable speed. Submersing into his rubbery skin proved easy; he was practically dripping with liquid. How often did he have to hydrate in order to maintain himself?
I dodged the first swing, noting its straightforwardness, only to have a rounded hook immediately rear towards my temple. I raised my palm and the fist froze, though my body certainly didn't.
The frontal attack had been a dupe, with all his might concentrating in a side blow. My feet slid involuntarily at the force even after stopping the attack.
My head would've cracked like an egg on the ground if that had landed.
"Ah. Very interesting, indeed," He commented, wholly unbothered. I stuttered back to life. Fight. Focus.
I moved to ram my own fist into his abdomen only to have him twist away towards his frozen arm. With a grunt I pursued. The black slabs of meat in place of legs were impossible to topple, his stance and weight too much for me to kick out without leaving myself vulnerable for attack.
Avoiding had become a specialty of mine; his attacks, while insanely exhausting, bounced away from my body through submersion. But my punches and kicks were proving just as futile. What is his flesh made of? And how thick was it?
"You've enervated your stamina."
Submersion shattered with the fist aimed at my jaw.
Stars glittered my vision and I flew back, bracing myself against the mats. I swiveled out of the way right before a heel slammed into the tatami I just vacated.
He's not stopping.
"Your ability to maneuver an opponent is impressive, but consumes too much of your concentration and energy."
The metallic taste of blood seeped between my teeth. Gang Orca assessed my next move skeptically, as if we were simply playing a game of chess.
Check, waiting for the mate.
As soon as he moves.
I felt more than saw the fractional shift in his weight, throwing everything into submersion to freeze him in place. All the attacks aimed at his torso had been ineffective.
But when sea creatures beached themselves, the gulls always found a way to feast.
I sprinted at him, directing my attention to those red, soft tissue eyes. Submersion immobilized his limbs, but I'd never considered controlling any portion of a person's face in fear of tampering too close to the brain.
I probably should have.
Sakamata's orca head bowed, eliciting a shrill, brain-numbing blast. My legs crumpled like paper and the last bit of submersion tapered out, releasing the violently-sized man. I struggled to stand but the blast continued to ricochet around my brain, slapping me back down with each pulsing wave. The wailing continued until I thought my skull would split like an egg.
A large, smooth-looking fist lowered to my downed chest, claiming victory. I let my head fall back, forgetting to be self-conscious even as he gave me that sharp-toothed grin.
"Well, you're not as completely frail as All Might suggested."
Author's Note: What do we think of present tense? I use past tense, but I've been considering what present tense would look like. Thoughts? Suggestions? Thank you for each and every follow, review, and favorite!
