The bus drive over proved about as mind numbing as he'd expected.
Mixed into their buzzing nervousness over the exam, though, an undercurrent of excitement continued to surge.
Their teacher was coming home.
Granted, they didn't know why Tsutomi-sensei would choose now to make her grand re-appearance. Most simply assumed her anxious disposition when it came to their endangerment was what drew her like a moth to flame, unable to look away from impending doom even as limbs snapped and bruises bloomed like crushed fruit across her beloved students' bodies.
"We're here. Everybody out."
Chiyo hadn't seemed to know what Gang Orca wanted to discuss, nor when she would be arriving. Aizawa had hoped to sit and work together in analyzing their students' weaknesses and strengths before her soliloquy last night, where she astutely pointed out an onlooker's potential ability to see their closeness and highlight his affairs in the media.
She was being gracious; far more gracious than he himself felt, considering the sour-noted hypocrisy living in his bones every time she brought the subject up.
All of this, the careful balance beam she tip-toed on whenever she suspected the public might take notice of him, was wholly for his benefit. And yet-
"Eraser! Is that really you, Eraser?!"
Familiar, kelly green hair. A smile that ached his own cheeks just looking at it. Both features burned ulcers into his retinas, but not nearly as much as the realization she was making a beeline in his direction with no foreseeable escape.
He should've just stayed in bed.
Emi Fukukado persisted in her happy-go-lucky joke routine- reminiscing on their non-existent romance, throwing in far too much casual touching- much to the delight of several students.
Others, though, looked at the woman with all the offensiveness of parents witnessing a peep show.
"Does she- Who does she think she is?" Yaoyorozu whispered fiercely to Uraraka. The round-faced girl nodded, two muscles away from glaring at a respected, professional hero.
"Yo, dibs on telling Tsutomi. I can be her fall guy," Mineta stared dreamily into the clouds, picturing a non-existent, never-going-to-happen future. Midoriya winced. "I...don't think that term means what you think it does," He pointed out kindly. Mineta waved him off with a scoff.
"It means when Tsutomi-sensei finds out about Mr. Aizawa and Ms. Smiley, my arms will be ready for her perfect, savory figure to fall into-"
A momentary pause followed Mineta's abruptly-ended rapture.
Tsu glanced at her classmates, tightening the rope she'd bound their smallest peer in.
"If we just kill him, that's less competition for us in the long run, right?" She pointed out.
The students continued to bicker as Ashido swooned over Ms. Joke's retelling of her and Eraser Head's fateful romance, despite his arguments after every other word. A flashback of the last time students had mistaken a woman for flirting with him, however, crossed through Aizawa's brain like a panic attack. He needed to end this banter immediately- a particularly hot-headed student was beginning to spark around the fingertips.
But a retort kinder than shove off but more asserting than please leave died on his tongue as the air shifted, an unsettling quiet overtaking the group as something entered their periphery.
A black car had glided between the emptying buses and purred to a stop at the curb. Kaminari let out a slow whistle.
"Who do you think it is?"
"M-Mirko?" Mineta guessed, instantly forgetting all his troubles.
"The Principal?" Yaoyorozu's logic fathomed.
"All Might?" Midoriya said hopefully, as if such an appearance would be the grandest and most remarkable of all gifts, full attention falling onto the driver opening the passenger door.
A shiny curtain of hair glimmered out, sliding over the shoulders of a woman made to bring down empires with the simple appearance of her bare, golden legs.
He would know those legs anywhere.
A black dress hugged her hips, hemlines sewn in a striking white around her neck and arms, narrowing in on her thighs. The driver hurried to offer her assistance before she pinned him in place with a small smile.
The runaway film star, plucked right from a black and white television, raised one hand and delicately lifted her large sunglasses from her face. In an instant, recognition ignited.
"Tsutomi-sensei!"
It wasn't an individual voice but one long, uniform shriek. She looked up and a grin split her face like a banana.
"You're back-"
"You look so different! Your hair-"
"How do you go from saving All Might to looking like some prissy trophy wife in a matter of weeks?"
"Bakugo! Your respect for Tsutomi-sensei in beyond reprehensible-"
"Oh hey, speaking of marriage-"
Their normal ethics instructor returned as Chiyo set her half-lidded eyes on the smallest of the bunch. He raisined, shriveling under her flat gaze, but jutted out a defiant finger anyway."Someone's putting the moves on Mr. Aizawa."
A cool touch of fear caressed Shota's ribs when she looked at him, then the feminine hand on his forearm.
Her eyes traveled up, up, until finally drinking in Ms. Joke's momentarily-unjoking face.
And then Chiyo smiled- enough to dazzle, her chipped tooth well hidden behind her full lips.
Panic bled into Aizawa's bones.
"We meet again."
She drew closer to the fellow adults; a haphazard circle of students moved right along with her. One moved too closely and she caught its chin, hugging a blushing frog-like face as if she were a little kid rather than a teenager barely two inches shorter than the instructor. The others seemed to notice the trend; every so often one would inch closer, preening when she ruffled their hair or patted their shoulders, grinning when she squeezed a hello into their arm.
"I'm sorry, do we-" Fukukado gasped dramatically. "You!"
Chiyo's lips curved on a single edge as the other woman finally placed her. Her female companion laughed.
"The woman from the teacher conference last semester!"
"In the flesh," Chiyo answered. Her hand whipped out- too slow, an ashen blonde raising his hackles at the attempt. "You have students participating in today's exam? What school?"
"I do! Ketsubutsu!" Fukukado laughed again as if having told a joke, though Aizawa couldn't see the humor in it.
Kind of like how he couldn't see the humor in Chiyo's sudden, sly smile. A little of Gang Orca peeked through her teeth.
"I'll have to look out for them."
"You're staying to watch us?" Kaminari's hopeful question was almost enough to break her conviction. Chiyo gave one pleasant nod instead of a verbal lie.
"Excuse me, but- Tsutomi-sensei?" Midoriya had been scrutinizing her outfit from the moment of arrival; she'd known if anyone would pick up on her new affiliation, it would be him. "Isn't that- You're wearing the official design of Gang Orca's agency. Does that mean you've signed on with him?"
A gleam of pride shining in her eyes, Chiyo held her left arm out in answer. To the right of her pulse gleamed a white ship's helm, no larger than her thumbnail but stark against her tan skin.
"That's the symbol for his first lieutenants," Midoriya breathed.
Was that what Gang Orca wanted to discuss with her this morning?
Aizawa's features remained neutral. She doesn't need my opinion to make these decisions. Your anger is irrational.
Unless it wasn't really anger riling his chest to begin with.
"Does this mean-"
"It's just a safety net for me to fall into, should I ever decide to relinquish my teaching gig due to ill-natured, short-tempered boneheads pushing me past my breaking point."
At this she finally caught her prey, boomeranging her arm around Katsuki Bakugo's head in order to place the side of hers on top. He spat and hissed and flailed about just like the ill-natured, short-tempered bonehead she insinuated he was, scratching viciously at her grasp. His face rivaled the palor of a candied apple by the time he escaped her iron grip.
"Crazy old hag," He muttered. Chiyo beamed at the term of endearment and he staggered, taking an extra six feet as a precaution, should she feel inclined to sink her motherly claws into him again.
Fukakdo laughed herself into the center of attention. "Gang Orca, huh? I can't imagine you'll have a lot of laughs with a hubby like that!"
The students shifted and glanced at one another, meerkats in the presence of two birds of prey; one, a newly-minted threat, the other a grinning, colorful vulture.
Ms. Joke linked her arm through Aizawa's and Iida audibly gasped.
"Now with a wife like me, I'm sure the Aizawa-Fukukado household will be one where the laughing never stops!"
The entire class froze.
Somewhere in the distance, a hawk fell from the sky at the sheer audacity of such a claim.
Having grown accustomed to the feel of Chiyo's heart whenever she touched him, Aizawa was surprised to find he could now pick up Joke's through their connected arms, trained to a new sensitivity. It pounded like she'd just sprinted a marathon with jackals nipping at her heels.
Or, more appropriately, one killer whale's new venomous playmate.
But instead of bursting every blood vessel in the woman's body, Chiyo simply gave Fukukado a friendly smile.
"I don't doubt it."
Even Bakugo gaped. If their instructor noticed her students' dumbstruck reactions she didn't let on.
And Ms. Joke, ever filled with quick quips and dingers, didn't seem to have a follow-up ribbing after her surprisingly easy victory.
"Ma'am?" A man in a white button down shirt had appeared from the arena, eyes focused on Tsutomi. He paused at the near-tangible tension surrounding the group, then; "Er, they're waiting for you, ma'am."
"Okay, thank you."
Tsutomi turned to her students with a look of sudden severity. Her large, worried eyes, though, softened the rigidness of her features enough to garner their undefensive attention, each unconsciously moving to where they would be had this been a normal day, seated in her cozy classroom. Unfortunately, there were no fuzzy chairs and downy pillows for this particular lecture.
"I want you to do your best. Look out for each other-" Bakugo looked affronted when her eyes purposefully fell upon him, "-and remember what I taught you about the treatment of not only villains, but-"
"Civilians as well," Iida finished with the adjustment of his glasses.
"And one another," Ashido cheered. Tsutomi nodded, satisfied with her work.
"I'll see you all soon, okay? And when in doubt, use Mineta as a human shield."
Chiyo smirked at the grape's wailing protests before straightening and looked between Aizawa and Fukukado, at where their arms were once connected before Aizawa had quickly ripped away from the woman. Her attention slowly roamed back to their faces. A smile tinted with coyness made Chiyo a little more sensual than her audience was used to.
Ashido smacked Mineta before he could comment. Kirishima gave her a thumbs up of approval.
"It was nice to see you again, Ms. Joke. Now if you'll excuse me, my- ah, husband- is waiting for me."
Tsutomi all but sauntered in the direction of the still-waiting attendee, leaving a wake of silence behind her.
Bakugo beat everyone to the punch this time, slapping Mineta upside the head without a glance, too busy looking from the corner of his eyes at Mr. Aizawa, assessing the damage like every other 1-A student was currently doing.
It felt as if someone had punched him with a Detroit Smash, right in the gut.
Fukukado lived in a land of obliviousness. "Oh, hey, there you guys are! This is class 2-2 of Ketsubutsu Academy! Say hello to my students,"
A string of conversations continued. Aizawa's brain eventually overheated with the noise and his already-swirling thoughts, leading him to send his own pupils into the arena for attendance.
Fortunately, the bleachers were mostly barren and peaceful.
Unfortunately, a green-haired giggle machine followed him all the way to his seat.
Had Chiyo said that just to piss him off? What other rational answer could there be?
Unless she had decided to go on ahead with the faked break-up in order to erase all public knowledge of their relationship. If that were the case, she'd done a bang-up job; she'd all but given her marital blessing to Fukukado just now. That had been his desire...right?
And yet her indifference sent a white-hot blade searing through his carotid, a cancerous cell multiplying until his lungs were non-functioning.
And now she was a marked affiliate of another man.
Hero. An affiliate of a hero agency, so she can continue to better the world.
A white-hot blade, indeed.
"Hey Eraser, you okay?"
For once, Fukukado didn't sound as if there was a punchline waiting in the rafters. Aizawa kept his gaze forward. She shifted, pulled out a pack of gum and offered him a piece.
"You know, I kind of remember a blow-out between a certain, er, pair of pals, the last time I saw that woman. Chiyo, right?" Joke unwrapped a single stick after receiving Aizawa's silent decline. "I also kind of remember your face after she walked out. So distraught and uncool. But I thought, hey, look! Eraser really does have feelers!"
If this was her attempt at drawing out a laugh from the normally-grim-faced hero, she'd chosen a dark route on a moonless night.
"So then, color me really confused now, watching you make that same uncool face just moments ago!" A pink bubble stretched to its capacity then burst across her chin. She nibbled the pieces back into her mouth, watching him with rueful excitement. "Did I just step on some humorless toes by accident? Is there something really going on between the two of you?"
What was he supposed to say to that? If he told her the truth, wouldn't that make him a colossal hypocrite? Wouldn't it mean Chiyo's valiant work in maintaining a professional distance for his sake would all be done for nothing?
But he couldn't- refused- to deny her.
It would be like ripping the petals off a rose, knowing it would still survive despite the brutality.
So he commented on the exam beginning instead, acting as if Joke had never spoken to begin with.
I should've just killed her.
Burst every blood vessel in her body like surprise confetti. Tried to turn her into a puddle of green-and-beige smiling goop. Decked her, at least.
Why did I let that jokester get under my skin so badly?
Gee whiz, I don't know Chiyo. Maybe it's because she refers to Shota as her husband on every occasion? Puts hands on your boyfriend?
Harmless, joking hands, Logic tried weakly.
The swollen organ occupying too much space in my chest took an electric saw to the notion.
"Chiyo…"
Was this what life would be like from now on? Putting up with casual flirtations and pretending not to care?
No. No way. I'd be dead in a month.
"Chiyo."
It's not like he's a professional socialite; you can't even get him to go on a double-date with Manami and Toshi, let alone events where men-hungry harpies can feast on him.
I'd already made my peace with this issue. If our public outings had to be reduced to essential-only, I could live with it. A small price to pay, in the grand scheme of things.
But by Gunhead's barreled wrists, I couldn't stand the sight of her hand on his arm.
"Chiyonex."
I only took notice of Sakamata's implores when it was far too late, nearly jumping out of my skin from the full-toothed roar he now released to get my attention. Likewise, every sidekick's eye was suddenly upon the "Big Fish" and his smaller, daydreaming apprentice, mildly terrified but curious to see if I survived.
I gave Gang Orca my undivided attention. A gallon-sized hand lifted his two-litre-sized "water bottle", as he often referred to it. The water inside swirled in a liquid tornado. I quickly inhaled, stilled the furious water, and lost the ability to look him in the eye all at the same time.
"Your distractions will sully your abilities and consequently fail to challenge these young potentials," He boomed. "You dishonor yourself with such a disservice."
Geez. No wonder Toro's such a dick, if his training was under this version of Sakamta's idea of learning. "You're right, sir. I'm sorry."
I looked like a shaky-legged calf standing next to its mountainous parent. Dizzying eyes rose to glare about us and the other like-legged calves jumped to life instantly, scurrying about to avoid their own personalized lectures.
Sakamata gave one more glance around, gruff, then stooped lower to mutter in my ear; "You must understand, Chiyo, I have a reputation to uphold. I did attempt to get your attention more civilly, but-"
"No, you're right; I am- was- distracted." I tried to expel the troublesome thoughts with a rough shake of my head. He was right; I'd only be harming my students if I didn't go forth with a clear, focused mind.
"Does your...beguilement have to do with a certain pro hero? Or more to do with your original quandary?"
It only took one cramped, awful night trying to sleep under my UA desk after my blowout with Shota before I'd shown up at Sakamata's agency doors, offering to take his most tedious, far-away mission in trade for two favors.
In hours he'd knuckled the media outlet responsible for the misconstrued All Might-Chiyonex video segment into releasing a retraction, along with bringing together the impromptu press conference; in exchange, I was sent across the country to investigate the business of Jamon Azakuku.
The other favor he did for free, going far beyond what I had asked of him.
Originally I had been furious, a mixture of humiliation and embarrassment leading me to walk right back out of the mental health retreat before the secretary could even take my name.
But then I caught my reflection in one of the shiny glass walls and realized what Sakamata must have seen.
What worry he must have harbored, for me.
The red pearls of his eyes swiveled down when I touched his arm. I tried to stop myself from exuding too much emotion in front of his impressionable agents but his water bottle took to space anyway, floated just a breath above his hand.
"Kugo, I am more grateful for what you've done for me than you could ever possibly know. Because of you, I was able to stitch myself back together when I hadn't thought it possible. My current beguilements are minnows in comparison to the sharks you've taught me to tame."
Though his skin never betrayed him, the movement of blood to his face did, as noted by Submersion. He cleared his throat, then said; "You can't tame a shark, Chiyo. They aren't mammals, and as such-"
He startled at my narrowed stare, catching the blunder. "Ah."
"Just an expression of speech, Sakamata."
"Yes, I see that now."
I smiled despite myself. "So thank you for reminding me to stay focused. You're completely right. However-" I lifted my fatigued arms to display the ugly, chunky silver bracelets. "Are these restraints really necessary? I feel like I'm carrying two bags of potatoes into battle."
"Despite your noviceness, you've proven yourself quite apt in the garden of chaos. Think of them as a reminder to your true objective: making the evacuation as difficult as possible." White daggers gleamed. "I think the fledglings will find you quite a challenge; especially considering where you'll land."
"Portion Two of the Licensing Exam has begun. Stand-by. T-minus four minutes."
The cement-wielding sidekicks were siphoned off between the two of us- half remaining in place, half following me to the other side of the arena.
Being the baby hero meant I received the better starting point. I flexed my fingers and the water beyond answered, practically vibrating with excitement.
"T-minus two minutes. Gang Orca, are you in position?"
"Yes."
"Chiyonex?"
"Yes," I responded. My suit felt like a second skin, spider webs of darkened water at the ready. I'd made sure to up the concentration of blood in the aqueous veins; a precaution, made to strengthen my defense. With the gift of a sidekick's borrowed water bottle I formed a parallel skin of water above my palms and fingers, slicked back my hair like the femme fatale villain I was supposed to be.
"T-minus one minute."
The exam would only end when every civilian had been saved. A shame if one were to disappear under the water.
"Thirty seconds."
I tried to recall the faces of Fukukado's students, who to look out for. It's my job to make their lives as difficult as possible, after all.
"Villains, disperse!"
The sidekicks poured out like tributaries. I walked out, surveyed the area.
Three particular students looked more dumbstruck than they had when Ms. Joke claimed herself the soon-to-be-spouse of their homeroom teacher.
"That's-"
My fingers fluttered a four-noted wave. The smile wasn't as sharp as my mentor's, but it was surely enough to cut to the marrow.
"Hello, heroes."
And then, the deluge.
Those who knew what was coming struck the advantage, scrambled away just in time.
That plain-faced Ketsubutsu boy, well.
I watched the tidal wave sweep him up and away, landing in a different district altogether.
Hope he assisted a few civilians before this.
"Tsutomi-sensei!"
One...Two...Three.
Their stunned idleness would be my advantage; no one made a move until it was too late. Three civilians were in close enough proximity to the water for me to take easily.
The almond eyes of Momo Yaoyorozu were the first to reflect the situation. Her entire being jolted into movement, running at my destination.
"Everybody! Do not let her touch the water-"
Too late.
Submersion's senses grew tenfold the moment my feet graced the water's surface. Deeper. Farther. Stronger.
Liquid snakes reached out and dragged two civilians beneath. The last- a strange cauliflower-haired woman- looked like a fearful little fishing bobber, panicked as I stood on the water beside her. I held a finger to my lips.
And then she sank to the bottom of the faux sea.
"She's taking hostages!" Momo was hard at work forming a plan, chest pouring out what looked like a T-shirt gun. Probably a net. "Tsuyu!"
"I'm on it!"
I'd wondered whose little heartbeat that was, veiled to the naked eye. A quiet splash noted her movement.
Let her try.
The three civilians were each in a dome of hardened water, oxygen provided and sent every so often in large bubbles to maintain their consciousness. The action was taxing- especially with these restraint weights- which meant I needed to end this quickly.
Leaving the water would put me at the disadvantage; I needed to draw them to me.
"What's the plan, Momo Yao?" I called out cheerfully.
I didn't give her time to answer.
An impromptu sword met my blood blade just in time. A grunt hissed out between Yaoyorozu's teeth. With every one of my creeping tides she took one clear step backwards, recognizing my intention. A leg attempted to sweep my feet out from under me. I braced for impact, let the attack brush off no more harmful than a love tap.
"I'm sorry, Tsutomi-sensei," She sounded like she meant it. What?
Momo pulled one hand from her sword's hilt and drew out a handful of glossy, black spheres.
Clever.
The water ripped me back just in time, saving me from whatever gas her weapon contained. Her black ponytail whipped like a tornado as she searched the area for me and Tsuyu, who was still trying to figure a way to break the underwater domes.
Momo turned at the sound of my feint splashing, revealing her blind spot.
She flew back as the water hit her, balance lost with the swell of concentrated power.
Two down, two to go.
A robot had been assessing me throughout this performance. I turned to him now with a half-cut smirk.
"I know you probably fear what the water will do to your suit, but shouldn't you have probably assisted your fellow hero?" I called to Tenya Iida.
He startled, thinking the rising wave would target him, staggering back to safer grounds. Instead I filled the water with nerves, let them splatter like rainfall to hide the connecting droplets, drawing a tether between me and the wary Ingenium too far away to reach on my own. No suit would be able to save him once the water tied his system to mine.
It's over.
A blinding light shattered the spell. My concentration fell along with my hold on the submerged civilians, long enough for a quick tongue to wrap around one of them, drawing to the surface before making a break for it.
I lowered my hand as the light faded, squinted at the silhouette emerging from within.
Wild eyes appeared as the smoke cleared, a hyena smile fixed beneath.
This could be a problem.
I returned his carnivorous attitude with the tilt of my head and a well-displayed set of teeth.
"So nice of you to join us, Bakugo,"
"Sure hope your little vacation hasn't turned you even softer than before, you old lady," His hands crackled in anticipation. "I've owed you since you stopped me from murdering that grape-headed bastard last semester."
"Mm," I hummed. Keep on the water. Don't give him a single inch. Use his lack of control to your advantage. "It must have been really annoying, to have Mineta touch your girlfriend's delicates like that, huh?"
Bingo.
He was an explosive punch-out of ash and hellfire, hurtling in my direction with no other desire than to crush me. Submersion drew me away, into the middle of the lake.
But he moved with the cadence and capability of lightning.
Save your suit's water for the major blows. A smart move; Bakugo used speed to land quick, damaging attacks, but I'd been beaten to shit enough times by Sakamata to know how to defend myself. He can't land, which means he'll be in a constant flux of quirk use and falling.
"You ain't so tough, old lady!" He howled with that rage-eaten smile. A grin licked at my own lips.
How many weeks had passed since I saw my kids? They were stronger, even more confident than before. Momo had already recovered despite my touch of submersion infused in the jet of water I'd hit her with, kneeling at the lake's edge, watching us. She's calculating.
These stupid weights made everything twice as hard to execute. I could barely gain enough speed to throw my own attacks, grazing him with my knuckles rather than grinding them into his jaw. Keeping a steady airflow to the civilians was another focus-sucking pain in the ass.
Bakugo was holding back; I could sense it in his movements. Because I'm his teacher? Or lingering guilt over Operation Submersion?
Surely not.
Surely, surely, no.
My fingers whispered towards his chest, hiccuped the heartbeat within. I felt, more than heard, his gasp at the intrusion.
"Are you not taking this seriously enough?"
Intelligence and quick wit drew him back out of arm's reach; he knew full well skin-to-skin contact would be his end. He hacked out a scoff at the question.
"Don't write a check your ass can't cash, old lady!" He shouted across the water, skidding to a stop on dry ground.
He's preparing a large-scale attack. The engorged arm grenades were glowing an incendiary yellow, sparking like an overexcited firecracker. I rolled my neck with too confident a smirk as I wandered closer.
This. This adrenaline painting my veins with lightning; the sheer, unbridled excitement.
I was tired, nearly depleted of Submersion.
I'd never felt more alive.
Let him come. We'll end this.
And maybe we would have.
But as Bakugo exploded towards me, another darting heartbeat raced from the opposing shore, nearly too quick to catch even with Submersion.
Where was little Iida hiding until now?
Half a second separated me from the double-sided massacre as both students aimed their deadliest attacks at my body.
I closed my eyes. Breathed in, and-
Crimson ripped from my suit, surrounded me in a sphere of bloodwater hardened to not only withstand the initial impact, but absorb the aftershock as well. The force pummeled every sense with needle-like precision. The heat of Bakugo's attack evaporated nearly all my suit's enhanced water. Not good.
Their team-up was unintentional, but effective. I'll never be able to sustain this sort of battle.
The minute Iida landed he was buried at sea, caught up to his chest in a vortex. I focused all my attention on the ashen head trying to backtrack out of reach, away from my viper grip biting into his forearm. I'd lost too much water to quicken my movements; still, blood splurted like a firework when I slammed his face into my rising knee.
He won't stop until he's knocked out. If I did anything less he'd be pissed I hadn't given it my all.
I slid my calf across his throat and let submersion push down on my spine, sinking us in seconds. Two minutes and he'll be unconscious.
But when had anything been that easy in regards to King Explosion Murder?
Instead of clawing at his neck, Bakugo splayed his fingers like two violent starfish parallel to his torso and released an explosion large enough to send him flying. A flurry of surprised water bubbled around me and obscured all visuals. Submersion quickly tapped into my surroundings like sonar.
The calm pulse of Tsuyu was nowhere to be found, but neither was a certain sprinter's. I caught Iida too late, skirting the water with a civilian in his arms, feet barely gracing the ground in his pursuit of the medical tent. Damn it.
Only one hostage left. Bakugo sputtered on his hands and knees on the opposite bank of a frantic Momo, her eyes flitting between her classmate and myself; or, rather, my suit.
"Bakugo-"
A wave threw her off balance, but not for long. A textbook cracked down the spine occupied one hand as the other created a metal pole, which she dug in the ground to hold her steady.
"Bakugo, her suit-"
She really was the smartest in her class. If we weren't in the middle of a battle, teacherly pride would lead me to try and tackle her in a much different way.
Bakugo swept across the water's surface, incessant. Instead of dodging, I built a pathway of watery stone, propelling myself up to sprint across towards the cleverer of the two.
She's bound to have come with a plan by now.
My favored pupil finally put her netting to good use- canon resting against her shoulder, aim true, iron-laced braids cutting the sky into perfect squares. I dropped my submersive hold, falling back to earth and just missing her attempted capture.
But the action proved distracting enough- Bakugo now stood to the left of Momo, angry face carved like a jack-o-lantern as she explained my newfound weakness.
She never intended for it to work, only to keep me occupied as she got to Bakugo.
"All quirks have their limits, right? That weird water in your suit is what enhances yours, and it looks like you've already expended most of it. Plus, there's those weights on your wrists." Bakugo practically cackled with glee. "You're standing on your last leg, huh old lady?"
Momo's eyes conveyed who'd really figured this all out. Half of my suit's veins displayed the flesh beneath, rather than the original cherry stream. I'd only lifted my arms when absolutely necessary for the past few minutes, trying to hide my evaporating fabric; now I unconsciously crossed them, annoyed. Everything he pointed out was correct, but sounded so crass coming out of his mouth.
Answering only wasted more precious time.
I rushed him, speed like Iida's with the water's propulsion.
The explosions met me halfway, frantic and focused, aiming with violent precision to draw out my suit's water, which dissipated further after too many heated blows. But he was fatiguing, too; more of my hits landed, bruising his skin even more than that oversized ego, and he struggled to avoid the drowning spindles reaching out like jellyfish tendrils from the water.
"Bakugo!"
He flew back, blood and fire, wiped at his dribbled chin. I glanced down. A victorious smirk cracked his face like dawn.
I felt, more than heard, the rising of my final hostage, released when my concentration had prioritized that final, overexcited blow to my opponents's jaw. Too tired; I was too tired to draw her back under without actually endangering her life.
She's probably the last civilian; there weren't many left to begin with.
The growing familiarity of Bakugo's quirk elicited its trademark roar as he took off.
Game over. If he saves the civilian, the test will end. He'll have won.
He raced forward-
And elapsed his passing grade without a single glance.
Woefully unprepared, I braced myself for impact. His red eyes gleamed like a victory flag.
But then they lowered, caught sight of something I hadn't meant to reveal.
The scar embedded into the skin of my abdomen, exposed by the emptied vein; a fatal flaw in design.
A splash of water rippled its way towards the cauliflower-haired civilian; Tsuyu coming out of hiding.
A violent hand lost its mirth.
And one stomach depressed as my fist met its muscle, bending Bakugo towards me.
I staggered forward, caught his chin on my shoulder, hand pressed to the side of his shocked face.
"Stupid," I breathed, "Stupid, stupid boy. Why didn't you choose the civilian? You weren't meant to come after me."
Katsuki Bakugo ran a fever like no other; even in my deepest sleep, I couldn't compare. With the dragged-out battle, pushing himself past the limit, his heart blood burned like magma.
And yet a shiver trembled through his body like a blizzard had caught in his bones.
"I-"
"Every last H.U.C. member on the field has been rescued from impending danger. Therefore, I declare that this test is OVER!"
Bakugo jerked at the sound of the announcement. I didn't fight back, subtly moving us closer to solid ground before he realized.
A waterlogged robot stormed over in a righteous fury.
"Bakugo, what were you thinking? If Tsuyu hadn't been here-"
"I don't want to hear it, four eyes."
Something in Bakugo's voice turned the volume off in Iida.
Exhaustion clung to the blonde like a second skin. A dark head of hair bobbled in our direction- the last person he probably wanted to see, considering her likely well-laid plan having gone up in smoke due to his personal objective.
"Go get your injuries checked out at the medical station, Bakugo. They won't be announcing exam scores for a while yet."
He didn't make eye contact, give any sort of answer other than meandering in the correct direction. Momo stopped in her tracks when he passed before turning back to us.
"What-?" She threw her hands up in surrender. "Oh, never mind,"
"It's been a long day," I said with a weak smile. How could I have been so stupid? "You were able to observe the battle and formulate a plan from afar, assessing and guiding your teammates away with the rescued civilians. You've come so far, Momo." The memory of her book and quick creation skills returned to my mind. "What were you trying to create?"
"Er, well-" A sheepish sort of nervousness colored her cheeks. "If we were able to retrieve all the hostages, I intended on forming some sort of electric generator. That way you couldn't have used the water, virtually neutralizing your threat once your suit's liquid had been fully evaporated." Momo's brow wrinkled above her widened eyes. "I would've given you plenty of warning beforehand, obviously."
"That...Would have been a very, very clever plan." I looped my arms between hers and Iida's. "I took a summer vacation and you all grew like weeds in my absence. Beautiful, wise, deadly weeds-"
"So you're back for good?" Momo asked tentatively. I nodded with a small laugh.
"You're stuck with me."
"Will Operation Submersion resume as well?" A hand moved to push up his glasses on habit. "I have formulated some new techniques to enhance endurance running without the toll of-"
And then they were in their own world, jumping off one another's ideas to formulate even stronger training regimes. I nodded along, smiled, momentarily just happy to be home.
Being on the opposite side of the arena, Shota Aizawa didn't notice the secondary villain's entrance until a tidal wave swept clean the area, taking siege to all in her aquatic grasp. She was too far away to make out her facial expressions, but the same slow, sauntering walk of earlier made her identity obvious, even to the mostly-unfamiliar onlooker beside him.
Chiyo would've paid big money to see the pallor of Joke's face now, watching in horror as the villainess flung one of her Ketsubutsu students across the field like a boneless chew toy.
A cacophony of explosions erupted soon after, introducing a very distinct student to the altercation. Aizawa had considered moving to the other side of the ring for a better view before Fukukado set her probing eyes on his skin like a magnifying glass scrutinizing an ant. With noticeable regret, he sank back into his chair.
Would Bakugo hold back against a teacher? He knew the answer before the question even fully formed. What restraints did Chiyo harbor? Had the "villains" been instructed to fight back, or simply disrupt the evacuation procedures?
By the volatile combat across the way, Aizawa assumed the prior.
"It's like our own little fireworks show!" Fukukado cheesed at one point. Aizawa hadn't answered, consumed with one student struggling to fight against a fellow candidate and a killer whale, another locked in arms with his significant other.
The exam ended in what felt like the blink of a giant's eye. Aizawa looked again and Gang Orca vanished, along with the distant fervent waterfalls and explosions. Ten minutes later the over-sized dolphin entered the seating area himself, beady eyes searching before landing on the pair.
"You really let them have it, huh?!" Joke showed off her pearly whites as Gang Orca carefully picked his way down. "By the looks of it, you were about to be cooked up for a nice whale dinner!"
Sakamata's usually-lacquered skin did look like shriveled-up tree bark, Aizawa noted. The orca was idling, choosing between the vacant seat between Aizawa and Fukukado or simply sitting to the woman's left.
"As dictated by the Convention of IWC, whales of any kind cannot be killed for any reason outside of scientific purposes." At last he chose the closest seat, leaving the breadth of space between the duo. "Even then, a specific permit is required-"
"You mean scientific porpoises?"
An uncanny pressure of silence pushed against all three of them.
"Don't worry, he didn't laugh when I made that joke either."
Chiyo's steps were so light no one had noticed her presence until she stood beside their aisle.
Drained of her liquid courage and dressed in a spider's web of black, her hair still a dark, raked-back mass of malevolence, Chiyo Tsutomi looked like a villain who decided halfway through the story to leave and take a nap instead, face masked in a sort of tiredness Aizawa knew all too well. Fukukado jabbed a finger in her direction.
"And you! You little sneaky-sneak, pretending to just be a pretty face!" Joke half-teased, but mostly accused. Chiyo's face didn't falter from the field.
"Have they announced the scoring yet?"
"Nope! It should take some time, providing all the paperwork to the individual students."
A hand kept close to Chiyo's abdomen- absentmindedly or not, Aizawa wasn't sure. He watched her belly push out against the fingers as she relaxed. Oddly, relief softened his bones, too.
"I need an adjustment made to my suit. Could I- Sakamata!" Her eyes grew like waxing moons, having finally turned to address her mentor. "What happened to you?"
Gang Orca waved off her concern with a chuckle. "That little inferno in your periphery was a barrier created to negate my pursuit of the medical evac squad."
"Why didn't you re-soak? Where's your 'water bottle'?"
"I depleted its resources immediately after. Don't worry about it."
Mouth no more than a thin scratch, it was clear Chiyo was very well going to worry about it.
"Hold out your hand."
The way she watched him, mouth still a slightly pinched line beneath her concerned eyes, both riled and intrigued Aizawa. Clearly, whatever fear she once harbored had been melted away enough for her to make demands of the nearly-seven-foot apex predator. Recognizing this for himself, Gang Orca offered her a sharp-nailed hand, palm up.
For a moment Chiyo looked exactly like the creature her hero name derived from; dark tendrils like jellyfish tentacles took to floating, writhing from their slicked-back positioning, sighing out their droplets to filter down her neck and across her collarbone, twisting around the arm hovering over the dark skin of Gang Orca's. The liquid dived between her fingers and watered him like rain to famished soil.
In moments a slight sheen returned and plumped Sakamta's skin. Chiyo's hair fell in dry, ruffled layers as she sacrificed the last of her resources. Fingers brushing across her forehead to push back the loose hair from her vision, she elicited a great, wide yawn.
"You shouldn't have done that; you're on your last leg as it is." Gang Orca chastised. Chiyo rolled her eyes.
"Don't be such a nag. You looked like a morel mushroom. How many times have you gotten onto me about appearances-"
"Appearances in the public eye. We are clearly-"
A long, lovey sigh drew the bickering to a halt. A teal head leaned against her own hand, dreamy. "You two are too cute."
Would this be the moment Chiyo snaps? More than one male wondered.
Before that could happen, Sakamata attempted to diffuse the ticking time bomb.
"I'm afraid I'm not Tsutomi's type," He chuckled, one hand rubbing an embarrassed circle into his scalp. "I've been led to believe she's more attracted to those long-haired types, and seeing as I lack wholeheartedly in that category, I fear I'm not even a potential contender."
He didn't need a water bottle to feel her shaking gratitude; it was written in the shade of her eyes. With a single shift, though, Chiyo turned sly, downcasting her gaze like some demure seductress.
"I don't know, Sakamata. Orcas are mammals, right? Which means you must have hair...somewhere."
If he could blush, this would have been the moment.
If Aizawa could bottle his stomach's current contents, he could sell it to terrorists and make a fortune.
Chiyo used their surprise like a free ticket, sliding past her mentor and Joke before dumping herself into the next available seat, snug between Fukukado herself and Aizawa. Her ankles could barely cross on the ledge's railing, neck on the chair's back as if waiting for the guillotine. She stared blankly at the cloudless sky.
Too clever for his own good, Sakamata made quick work of drawing Joke's attention away, inquiring after her students and experiences in the field. Chiyo made a note to thank him later.
"Something wrong?" Aizawa asked, careful not to draw too much attention from the others.
Chiyo's eyes remained unblinking pools. Her bottom jaw loosened, tested its abilities. At last she sighed.
"He saw."
She didn't need to look over to taste his confusion. Instead she lifted her protective hand so the whitened scar shined through- no longer than a fishhook, but like her tattoo, stark against her flesh.
"Of all the students- Of all the times- Why? Why him, why then?" Her chest inflated, poured out a stream of regret. "He saw, and then he stopped. And then it was over."
"Chiyo, Bakugo can't possibly know what it means-"
"I told them it was my appendix that was taken out, remember?" Her eyes slowly closed. "You and I both know Bakugo is smart enough to know, now, that I lied. It is a burden I'd hoped to never give him, and allowed the event to pass so carelessly. If he'd just chosen to save the civilian-"
"At the very least, you can't blame yourself for the outcome of this exam. You said so yourself- he chose to pursue glory rather than acting to save another."
He wasn't sure she was listening until an elbow subtly moved across their shared armrest, brushing against him. Aizawa felt his heart carry into her bloodstream, taking on her weight as his own. The tension in her face softened like ice cream in the sun. His heart skipped a beat, looking at her. A ghost of a smile turned her lips.
"So, are you two going to the party together?"
"Party?" Aizawa repeated. For a glorious moment he'd forgotten all about the other two adults crashing their moment of peace. Fukukado rolled her eyes.
"I'm sure you received a memo as one of the UA hero course instructors. This year, to try and foster better relationships and unity between the hero candidates and schools, the commission's organization is hosting a congratulatory party for the accepted provisional license holders! With All Might-" Joke hesitated. "-With how things are now, it'll be good for the media to see the hope of tomorrow."
"Sounds like a great way for villains to pin a target on students."
"Oh, don't be such a stick in the mud!" She laughed. In response, a dimple pocked Chiyo's temple. Aizawa sighed for the both of them.
"We should go together!"
"I can't think of anything I'd want to do less," He deadpanned, though the idea of seeing Chiyo in another star-strewn dress, blushing and shy in his arms again, held its appeal. How much media would be there? Would she say yes if he asked her?
Emi Fukukado, however, was not so easily deterred.
"Come on, Eraser, you owe me a date! I promise to show you a great time; I might even get you home at a decent hour! And, hey, with our contrasting styles, it would be such a twist if we color coordinated! So what do you say, let's-"
It happened so suddenly, no one initially reacted.
Fukukado's hand, stretched across the dip of Chiyo's abdomen, remained frozen in space, barely halfway to the black sleeve of the man she had reached for. Her fingertips vibrated just slightly, fighting the hijack pilot controlling their blood flow.
Chiyo stared at the sky and the group stared at her, air tense enough to taste.
Her tongue ran across her teeth, savored the sharp chip of her right canine, as if thinking through her next move. A small, irrational bit of Aizawa marveled at the idea of Chiyo marching Joke away like a stiff human robot.
At long last her tongue smacked against the tooth's enamel and Joke's arm dropped, back under her own control. Chiyo eased upright, holding onto the balcony's pole in a stretch. Dark hair closed her face off like pulled shades.
"Sorry," She said, breezy. "Instinctive reaction."
"The answer is still no," Aizawa attempted to pull the conversation back to him, away from Chiyo's revealed skin, but a snort shook through her ribs and drew attention anyway.
"Of course you're going," Chiyo said. "I won't be there as a UA representative- I'll be the guppy villainess to Gang Orca's very-fitting villain."
"Hmph," Gang Orca huffed.
"Which means," Chiyo continued, almost lazily, "You have to go in order to represent class 1-A. Period."
"See? Your agenda is all set," Ms. Joke agreed with a beam.
What was Chiyo doing? He wanted to grab her shoulder and see her face, at least touch one of the spider threads of her skin and feel the heartbeat beneath; did she want this? For him to be seen with someone else? The idea alone was nauseating.
"Oi, Tsutomi! We should go dress shopping together!"
The pole denied her force, lifted Chiyo to her feet instead. "I have a dress, actually." She sounded surprised, as if just recalling where she'd left her house keys (in a dirty pair of Shota's jeans, last time). She turned sly eyes towards her date. "And it will even color coordinate with you, Sakamata, so long as you intend to wear that ridiculous white suit of yours."
Chiyo beat his offended response with a quick, teasing grin. Just as quickly, though, the look sizzled out and was replaced by a dampered calm. "They're about to announce the results. You and I should go down to congratulate the passees, Sakamata. I know of one particular student who would wet himself for your autograph."
Gang Orca rose and filed out, muttering under his breath about impossible expectations and the maddening fairer sex. Chiyo watched him amusedly before lowering her gaze to the once-again duo.
"Well, I guess I'll see you two on the dance floor."
"Yes!" Fukukado cheered.
"Absolutely not." Aizawa deadpanned again.
"We shall see, we shall see. Until then-" Chiyo gave a smiling bow of her head. "Ms. Joke."
She looked at him then, suddenly serious. "Mr. Spy."
A heartbeat of surprise, then; "Ms. Assassiness."
The slightest hint of her smile, tucked into the corner of her lip, was enough to quiet the roaring tide.
He watched her walk away, hurrying to catch up with her waiting mentor.
"Did she change her hero name?" Fukukado asked.
Two students had failed the exam; two from the top tier of the class pyramid.
It was a very, very irritating ride back to the dorms.
Present Mic waved him off, having agreed to take the final week of summer as 1-A's dorm chaperone, though many students chose to go home for one final reprieve before classes began. Aizawa nodded his thanks and wasted no time returning home.
The apartment was darkened, quiet save the polite hello of a young, ashen cat; her older, darker brother was too preoccupied with takeout bags on the table to notice much else. A grumbling stomach behind him barely caught Nasu's attention until related hands wrapped around his soft undersides to place him back on the floor.
Burgers and crispy fries, by the smell. But where's the food-bringer?
And then he heard it- the pattering, familiar rain of the shower, giving her away. An unwelcome, lopsided ache pulled at Shota's ribs.
The last time he'd entered a darkened apartment with her elsewhere, silent in the shower, had not been a happy experience.
He'd spent the bus ride home examining every Chiyo-Fukukado interaction under a magnifying glass, trying to figure out which one hid poisonous dust on her wings.
An acidic bubble grew in his chest every time he pulled up the memory of the green-haired menace jokingly calling herself his wife, but Chiyo's smiling indifference was what burst that bubble, disintigrated his bones on impact.
Did a wicked strike of jealousy run through her? It was in poor taste for him to assume she fell prey to such sentiments, especially considering her ever-growing maturity, the way she seemed dedicated to abiding by his low-profile wishes.
It was in even worse taste how maddened he felt concerning the whole ordeal- a self-created dilemma with only one true culprit.
He moved quietly in the hallway, lingered over turning the knob.
Chiyo seemed surprised to see him, jumping as the shower door pulled open, but a warm smile quickly took on her features.
"Hello! I didn't think you would be home so soon."
The ache of his heart bloomed in her orchard. Aizawa released a long, soft sigh.
"I couldn't remember if you preferred chicken sandwiches to hamburgers, so I got two of each. Whichever you don't want I'll eat, and before you get on my case, I also bought two little salads- they cost more than the sandwiches, isn't that crazy?"
She continued to ramble on, scrubbing her white-foamed hair faux-hawked by her shampoo, shamelessly naked as he observed her.
"What-" He cleared his throat, which had become suddenly, bizarrely, tight. "What's wrong with your face?"
"Oh," Chiyo swiped under her right eye and inspected her blackened fingers. "I winged my eyeliner today. I thought it'd make me look like more of a bad ass. Did it work?"
She looked like a tan mime who got caught in a rainstorm.
"Completely bad ass," He informed seriously. She rolled her eyes and his stomach rolled right along with them.
She was a living, breathing piece of home, who had chosen him to walk beside through the world's hinterland.
"You didn't even notice, did you," She sighed. "I'm not surprised; men don't seem as attuned to detail as- Shota, what are you doing?"
"I'm listening," He managed to mumble, shirt halfway over his head. A blush warmed her cheeks when his pants followed, a pale body soon joining hers in the intimate space.
Despite his listening ears, it seemed Chiyo Tsutomi had forgotten what she was even talking about.
Later, when he had drunk enough of her in, caressed her soft limbs and washed the suds from her hair, they flicked lukewarm fries at one another and shared notes on their students' exam performances, bouncing ideas on how to cater lessons to their specific needs.
He hadn't realized the extent of her exhaustion until she wrapped her hair in his discarded towel, too fatigued to pull the water from the tendrils herself.
Sitting in matching robes with her hair pulled up in a ridiculous, fascinating turban, back hunched and dark circles under her eyes, Chiyo almost looked like a littler, female version of himself.
Shota Aizawa had the good conscience not to make this comment out loud.
"I've decided to tell Bakugo the truth, if he asks."
A fry paused halfway into his mouth. Chiyo lost an ounce of seriousness at the sight.
"What made you decide so?"
She picked his sandwich up and took a nibble. She was the one who could never decide between the chicken sandwich or burger, and as a result ate half of her choice and one-fourth of his. He would probably starve, if she wasn't always baking something or trying out a too-large, too-many-portions recipe, animatedly feeding him until his pants hardly fit.
"They've all grown so much since I've been gone, but Bakugo...Something's different. Something's been different, I think, since his abduction."
Shota assumed she could relate very much to Bakugo's current headspace; she seemed to know it, too, and gave him a weak smile.
"He's been lied to enough, I think. It's not like Midoriya is the only All Might fan- just the only one who was chosen back. Toshinori said Bakugo even questioned his relationship to Midoriya."
"You've spoken to Toshinori?"
Chiyo's eyes narrowed. Shota sniffed, hid behind the hand wiping his suddenly-runny nose.
"Yes. He brushed Bakugo's question off and I can understand why, but Bakugo isn't stupid. Quite the opposite, really, despite that attitude."
"And if he doesn't ask?"
"Then this will be the end of it, I guess. But something tells me he will."
The towel-turban cushioned her fall, arms splayed wide, eyes refusing the light. She seemed to have thought this through; there would be no dissuading her, even if he had an inclination to do so.
"So," He began casually, "Was the little altercation with Fukukado your attempt at a 'public break-up'?"
Chiyo snorted beneath her arm. "That was simply me, trying to deal with that...fellow heroine," It seemed like a very different word raced to the tip of her tongue before she caught it prior to escape. She peeked up at him in a self-inflicted chagrin. "Sorry. I know she's a friend of yours."
Shota failed to mention the chainsaw-wielding fantasies he'd dreamed up on the bus, of which Fukukado certainly didn't survive. Light eyes narrowed in on his sudden fidgeting; if he didn't change the subject, she'd surely find some way into his mind and suss the sinful thoughts out herself.
"I negotiated Joke down to attending as mutual acquaintances. In separate cars."
A smile curved her lips. It tugged him to follow, lie on his side next to her. She squirmed when his fingers found their way between her robe's barrier, cool against her ticklish stomach.
"Sakamata will probably send a car for me, so we won't have to show up together. Once the media's snapped enough photos and are too drunk to even fake coherency, we can slip out together and come home."
"You two are going together, then?"
She hummed, a pacified little kid as his palm rubbed slow circles around her navel. "I suppose like you and Fukukado. Work acquaintances" Her sly eyes awakened. "He, like you, used that word. Repeatedly."
Sakamata, Shota decided, was not too bad a guy.
"You have a dress?"
"From Hokkaido. Rozu bought it for me. It's quite scandalous."
"Oh?"
His hand, ever adventurous, began to roam lower. Chiyo's eyes found him again, fighting a smirk.
"Mhm."
"So you're going to show up with and consequently sweep some other man off his feet, all while wearing a skimpy little dress?"
"Scandalous," She corrected, back arching to the tune of his melody. He hummed along against the hollow of her neck, slipped her robe off her shoulders. "Not skimpy. Very big difference."
"Monumental," He agreed to the freckle below her collar bone.
And then, once again, Chiyo Tsutomi seemed to forget what she had even been talking about.
A/N: I like how what Aizawa expects Chiyo to do tends to be her exact thoughts of what she wants to do, but stops herself in the nick of time (See: Blowing up Fukukado).
I'm getting married tomorrow! As such, I won't be able to update next week, as I'll be off in lala land, eating meals with Mickey Mouse and comparing Disney princes to my anime crushes (prediction: they don't even compare). I hope this long post will be enough to last you! Thank you for all the love and support!
As a recap (in case you haven't read up on chapters of yesteryear), Chiyo saved Bakugo during Operation Submersion and sustained a blow to her lower abdomen, prodding the doctors to remove a portion of her reproductive system to stave off infection. The students believe the attack simply burst her appendix. Bakugo, however, now knows that is a falsehood.
How do you think he'll handle this discovery? What do you think will happen next?
I'll see you all in about two weeks!
