Chapter 24: Just Desserts

As soon as Izuku hit the ground, he heard Midnight call an end to the fight. Laying still on his stomach, he pretended to be unconscious while she rushed to his aid. To his shame he heard the crowd gasp and go silent as he lay there, the extent of his injuries unknown.

Sorry Mom. He thought with a pang of guilt. No doubt she was having a panic attack back home.

In a flash, Midnight arrived at his side and flipped him over. Her eyes rapidly went over his injuries with professional efficiency. As she examined him, he acted like he was stirring. Blinking and gasping, he pretended to have difficulty focusing on her.

'Ah…did I lose?' he asked weakly as Midnight wormed her hand to his neck, feeling his pulse.

'Afraid so.' she muttered under her breath, 'But it was a great fight.'

He exhaled and let his head loll back to the ground. He was motionless as she continued her examination. He tried not to squirm as she felt him down for injuries, but he couldn't help but feel himself blush as she touched his chest. When her fingertips began brushing down his sides, he flinched.

'Sorry.' Midnight said, 'I know it hurts. I'll try and be gentler.'

He merely nodded. Forcing away his giggles with a fit of coughing, he desperately tried to get himself back under control.

Why did I have to be born so ticklish?

After what felt like an eternity, she finally withdrew her hands and stood back up.

'You're pretty banged up, Midoriya. Don't move, I'll call over a stretcher.'

'No!' he said sharply and she looked down at him in surprise.

'No.' he repeated, trying his best to sound faint. 'I can walk. I don't want my Mom to see me get carried out of here.'

'Midoriya, you're-' Midnight started, but he had already started to rise.

'What're you doing?' she hissed, crouching back down to his side.

Ignoring her, he kept rising. She put her hand to his chest and for a moment he could have sworn she was about to force him back to the ground, but she didn't. Instead she snaked her other arm around his shoulder and helped him to his feet.

At the sign of movement, the crowd broke out into applause and cheers. He raised his hand slightly in acknowledgment as he limped alongside Midnight towards the ramp. As he went, he risked a glance over at Bakugo. He was watching him leave, an unreadable expression on his face.

'Stupid!' Midnight muttered and Izuku looked back forward, 'Boys your age are so recklessly stupid! You take everything too seriously!' her voice softened, 'Honestly you're hopeless, Izuku.'

He gulped. He didn't know what to say to that. Instead he just allowed himself to be half carried over to the exit where a wheeled stretcher was waiting just out of sight of the cameras and crowds. Once they got within reach, she gently spun him around and guided him into the stretcher.

'There. You got to look like a tough guy. Happy? Now lay back.' Midnight said as she pushed him down the hallway towards the medical station.

Throwing open the doors to the medical station, Power Loader strode inside. The brightly lit white room was empty except for Recovery Girl and Midoriya who was laying on the furthermost bed in a row of beds against the wall. Power Loader considered approaching him, but held back when he saw that Izuku was speaking on his cell phone.

'No Mom, I don't have any permanent damage…No…Kacchan's fine Mom…'

Power Loader turned to where the school physician, Recovery Girl, was leaned over her desk comparing a series of x-rays.

'So, how is he?' he asked and Recovery Girl looked up.

'He seems to be recovering remarkably well. Rather than risk healing him completely, I just gave him a minor boost.' she said briskly.

'That's good to hear. He looked pretty bad from the stands.'

'Yes, I know. But what can I say? His body seems to be made of sturdier stuff then usual.'

Power Loader sighed, 'I suppose it would have to be given the stunts he pulls.'

At that Power Loader and Recovery Girl turned to frown disapprovingly over at Izuku. The boy must have noticed something because he quickly transferred his phone to his other hand and shielded his face from them with it.

Power Loader returned his attention back to Recovery Girl and glanced down at the x-ray images on her desk. 'Are these his?' he asked in a lower tone.

'Yes. I…did the test you asked me to. The x-rays were the only test he didn't seem to mind me performing actually.'

'And?'

'Normal. Well, you know what I mean.'

'Hmm.' Power Loader murmured as he examined an x-ray of a foot. Medicine wasn't his strong suit, but he could tell that the toe was double jointed. So Midoriya really was quirkless. While he studied the image, Recovery Girl kept talking.

'Tell you the truth, I was also curious about his vitality so I asked him if I could run some additional tests and he flat out refused! You should have heard him protest when I said I wanted to do his bloodwork.' Recovery Girl tutted and shook her head, 'For all his bravery in the arena, he sure does hate needles.'

'How odd. Midoriya doesn't seem like the squeamish type…'

Satisfied, he left the x-ray photo on her desk and returned his attention to her.

'Well it seems like he's in better shape than I thought.' he said in a louder voice, 'They asked me to see if he could attend the medal ceremony. Do you think he can stand?'

Recovery girl humphed in response.

'Hey! Midoriya!' she snapped and with comical speed Izuku whipped his head their way. 'Do you feel like you can handle having a medal draped around your neck?'

Quickly saying goodbye, Izuku hung up his phone and hopped out of bed. Even though Power Loader had just seen the proof with his own eyes, he still could hardly believe Izuku was powerless. Those blasts were destroying concrete.

'Yeah, I think so.' Izuku said, 'Where do I need to go?'

While the Sports Festival participants were gathering in the arena, the champions were waiting on their respective podiums beneath the stadium in a large loading bay for their grand entrance. The actual awards ceremony was simple. When the champions were announced, pneumatic elevators would activate and, amidst smoke, pyrotechnics, and confetti, they would rise from the floor of the stadium before the adoring crowds to be presented with their medals.

And so it was that Izuku, Bakugo, and Tokoyami found themselves standing nervously, perched on a faux marble column apiece in the centre of a dark, cavernous room. Besides some camera equipment and a few members of the production crew, the room was empty and oddly silent.

Izuku had been dreading this moment. Standing and smiling before a crowd was in his mind much worse than fighting for one. He pulled some creases from his sleeves. At least they had given him a new uniform. His original suit was little more than shredded tatters.

Izuku stood on the right most podium. To his left was Bakugo whose column stood over half his height taller than his. Around Bakugo's left was the bird boy, Tokoyami on the third-place column. To Izuku's surprise Tokoyami had been able to defeat Shinso too. Apparently, he had just immediately attacked and Shinso had been defenceless. He still had no clue as to the mechanics of Shinso's quirk, but blind aggression seemed to counter it.

I'll add Shinso to the never-ending list of things to investigate. Izuku thought as he smoothed out the front of his pants. I'll put him after that weird buzzing noise I hear in the development studio, but before that mysterious jar of goo at the back of the fridge.

'Grrr…fucking…pictures…Deku…'

Izuku glanced over at Bakugo. He was grumbling again. Izuku playfully nudged his thigh with his elbow.

'Lighten up, Kacchan. Smile! You're the big champion, just like you always wanted.'

Bakugo glared down at him before suddenly subjecting him to a big toothy smile and he recoiled in horror. Before he could say anything, Bakugo looked back up at the pneumatic doors above them, a dull frown on his face.

'Jesus! Never do that again, Kacchan. Spare me and the world!'

'Shut up, Deku.' Bakugo said half-heartedly, 'I'm guessing you've seen the news? Apparently, you're the internet's new darling cripple. The plucky, quirkless, underdog who bravely managed to lose badly and get second place in the Sports Festival. Give me a break.'

He stared up at Bakugo despairingly, 'Aw, are you serious? Great. Now I'm going to get stalked and all these weirdos are going to start following me on social media-'

Bakugo snorted, 'If they make a movie about this Deku, *I* get to pick who plays me, got it? And I want to see the script before hand too.'

Izuku put his face in his hands. He had just remembered all the old photos his mother had of him on her Facebook page.

'Did you know that our Moms watched the games together?' Bakugo asked in a hollow voice.

He looked back up, aghast.

'No!'

'Yeah. Apparently, they were all crying and shit. Talking about the "good" old days.' Bakugo said and they both shook their heads, 'Fucking crazy.'

'They better not be thinking about having a…a dinner or something.' Izuku said forlornly and Bakugo shuddered. It seemed like the sort of thing his mother would suggest.

'They'd better not. God, did you have to ham everything up so much back there?'

'Huh?' he sputtered, 'I wasn't-'

'Oh, please.' Bakugo said, rolling his eyes, "Ooh, I'm bleeding! I'm so weak! Ugh, carry me Midnight." he said in a cruel, but accurate impersonation before scoffing, 'I see through you, Deku. I know you're into that gender roll reversal shit.'

'What?!' Izuku yelled and the crew started snickering. 'I-I'm not even- Like, what're you- J-just -what?!'

Bakugo too joined in the snickering which eventually transformed into full on laughter. Izuku could only stand there, arms crossed as he waited for everyone to get a hold of themselves.

'Yeah, yeah. Ha. Ha.' he muttered under his breath, 'You know on second thought, maybe we should have dinner. My Mom still has that scrapbook she made when we were kids. We can all have a nice sit down, maybe watch some of our old birthday videos-'

To his satisfaction, that wiped the smile off of Bakugo's face. Glaring down, Bakugo loomed over him menacingly.

'Don't you dare, Deku! I swear if I have to waste one of my evenings-'

'Excuse me.' Tokoyami interrupted. Bakugo and Izuku looked over at the boy, identical blank looks on their faces. They had forgotten he was there.

'I don't mean to pry, but I was just wondering what-' he began but they both immediately cut him off.

'Mind your own business, beak face.' Bakugo said dismissively.

'Just ignore us.' Izuku followed firmly.

'Oh.'

Looking away from the others, Izuku switched his attention to the broadcasting sample screen on the wall. The commercial break was about to end. Taking a deep breath, he did his best to look lighthearted and carefree. The other two boys similarly tried out differing poses, Bakugo tried looking intimidating and Tokoyami aloof and mysterious.

One of the production crew members noticed them and her face broke into a bemused smirk.

'What are you boys doing?' she asked laughingly and the three rapidly deflated.

'W-What do you mean?' Izuku asked.

The woman just shook her head, a smile still teasing at her lips.

'Nothing. You look good; keep at it. And we're live in three…two…one…'

'…and here are your tournament champions!' shouted Midnight to raucous applause.

The platforms jerked slightly before slowly rising up to the stadium grounds. Exiting the shaft into a cloud of smoke, Izuku waited in the obscuring cloud as the sound of the crowds built around him. After a few seconds the smoke cleared and the three were exposed to the world. Standing on the stadium floor before them was Midnight and all of their first-year classmates. Izuku spotted his fellows in support waving and shouting encouragements. He raised his hand in acknowledgment and smiled.

'Now we will award the medals!' Midnight said loudly, 'And of course, who better to hand out the medals than…' she raised her whip to the stadium roof and everyone looked up. There was a man standing there with his hands on his hips.

'…our very own… '

'It's All Might!' said several students in the crowd excitedly, Izuku grinned. The man atop the stadium leapt high in the sky.

'…All…' Midnight started.

Landing with a massive gust of wind All Might cried, 'I have the medals!'

'…Might!' Midnight finished.

They had ended up talking over one another.

'Sorry.' mouthed Midnight as All Might looked back at her, his smile straining.

'Uh, anyway! All Might, would you please present the third-place medal!'

'Of course!' All Might said cheerily.

With his characteristic aplomb, All Might marched up to Tokoyami, bronze medal in hand. Quietly, All Might started to talk to the him. Izuku got the sense that his words were intended only for Tokoyami, but even with the sounds of the stadium filling his ears he heard everything.

'You sure are strong.' All Might said as he put the medal around Tokoyami's neck.

'You're too kind.' Tokoyami replied as All Might went in to give him a hug.

'However, in order to fight well against different types of opponents, you must learn to not rely entirely on your quirk. If you train your own strength more, you'll have more options when you fight.'

All Might pulled back and beamed at the him. Tokoyami lifted the medal around his neck and studied it solemnly.

'Yes, sir.'

At that All Might stepped away from Tokoyami and moved over to Izuku. Izuku felt himself go numb as All Might drew in close, a shining silver medal in his hands.

'Young Midoriya, congratulations.' All Might said as he draped the medal around his neck, 'You've played to your strengths in this tournament, using all of your wits and skill to level the playing field. If you continue to develop yourself, you will be a fearsome opponent indeed.'

'Th-Thanks, All Might.' Izuku said, choking back a sob.

'But you must remember not to rush into things. Your ability to outthink your opponents is your greatest asset, not brute strength.'

Izuku nodded. Hastily wiping his face with his sleeve before smiling back. Withdrawing himself, All Might next turned to Bakugo.

'And of course, our gold winning champion, young Bakugo! Congratulations!'

'Thank you.' Bakugo said stiffly.

Izuku knew that tone. He knew Bakugo was as happy as he was right now, Bakugo just didn't want to show it.

'Good job doing what you said you would during the player pledge! But remember, there is more to being a hero then winning fights. Make sure that you continue to grow and develop yourself. Don't become complacent!'

Bakugo nodded and All Might stepped back to address the rest of the students.

'Well, they were the winners this time!' he said, sweeping his arm towards them. 'But listen here: Any one of you could have ended up on these podiums. It's just as you saw – Competing! Improving each other! And climbing even further! The next generation of heroes is definitely sprouting!' All Might declared, pointing up in the air, 'I just have one last thing to say. Everyone, please say it with me!'

Izuku grinned.

'Ready, go….'

'Plus Ultra!' Izuku shouted with the rest of the crowd, pumping his fist in the air. It was after all the UA slogan.

'Thanks for your hard work!' All Might said over them.

'What kind of line was that?' Midnight said, accidently speaking into her microphone.

All Might looked around in confusion.

'What? What did I do?'

That evening Izuku was barely able to contain his excitement as he swung and leapt his way across town. He'd told his Mom he was going out to celebrate his silver medal with his friends, but really he was on his way to meet Weasel. By now, Weasel should have had more than enough time to collect their winnings from the various underground bookies and casinos across town and as soon as he got his cut, he was going to immediately head on over to his meeting with Knuckleduster.

Busy, busy, busy! Now that I'm a wealthy man, I simply don't have the time I used to. Izuku thought giddily. He still didn't know what he would spend his leftover money on.

He would have to keep his fortune a secret from everybody of course. And he couldn't go out and buy anything extravagant for himself either (not that he really wanted anything anyway). Although he was sure he would find some use for the money.

At last he came up on the Mob Donald's parking lot that he and Weasel had agreed to meet in. Besides a few early club goers and some whinos bulking up on calories, there was nobody else in sight. Ducking into an alley, he quickly changed out of his spider-suit and walked out into the lot. He was in a nicer neighbourhood so he wasn't expecting any trouble. Leaning up against a street pole, he pulled out his cracked smart phone and waited.

With an impatient sigh, Izuku jerked his phone out of his pocket and checked the time. He'd been waiting for two hours so far and Weasel still hadn't shown up. What could he possibly be doing? Did he get into some sort of trouble? Was he robbed? He needed answers!

'Hey!' shouted a voice from across the parking lot.

Alarmed, he looked in the direction of the voice. A man he didn't recognize was stumbling up to him. As if the smell of booze wasn't enough, the man's swaying walk clearly told him that this guy was drunk.

'Uh, can I help you?' Izuku asked uncertainly.

The intoxicated man moved closer, his bleary eyes trying to focus. Izuku regarded the man with mild concern as the drunkards lined face twisted and contorted; scrunching up as though he was looking at something particularly foul.

'I recognise youuu!' the drunk bellowed, punctuating his sentence with an aggressive wave, 'Yer that wussy boy that was fuckin' around in the Sportish…Thing!'

Izuku sighed, 'I think you have me confused, sir.' he said politely.

'No! No, yer that fuc- *HIC* -uker who…who cheated his way to prom-prom-prominmananace! I could take you…' the man lurched forward and tried to grab his hoodie.

'Sir, I think you've had too much to drink.' Izuku said, as he sidestepped past the man.

'Stop moving you little…you little bastard…hold still…'

To his dismay the man tried and failed to charge at him multiple times. Eventually the belligerent lost his balance and slipped. Babbling incoherently, the drunk flopped around on the concrete like a fish out of water. Averting his eyes, Izuku glanced over to the fast food restaurant. Several of the people inside had been attracted to the spectacle and were now staring at them.

Damn, I can't meet Weasel now. Everyone knows I'm here!

He looked down at the now snoring drunk and let out a frustrated hiss.

Thanks a lot, buddy.

Pulling out his phone he called the man a cab and walked away before any more curious onlookers could approach him. Fleeing back into the darkened alleyways, he changed back into Spider-Man and launched himself into the sky. Hopefully Knuckleduster didn't stand him up too.

Swinging between buildings, Izuku quickly made his way over to the parkade. He was going to be a little early, but that wasn't the biggest issue. He had already waited for over two hours for Weasel to show up, what was a couple of minutes for Knuckleduster?

Landing on top of a high rise that overlooked the parkade he prepared to settle in to wait. However, to his surprise he spotted Knuckleduster pacing by the wall.

Huh? He's waiting for me? That's new.

Swinging down, he flipped and swung into the parkade floor. Immediately he could sense that something was wrong. Knuckleduster had stopped pacing and was waiting for him by the red graffiti as usual, except this time Knuckleduster had a stiffness about his posture that set Izuku on edge. There was a tension in the air that had never been there before.

'Hey. Come over…' Knuckleduster said, waving him closer.

He hesitated and took a moment to consider his surroundings. As usual the lot was filled with derelict cars and loosely scattered trash. Besides the buzzing from the harsh florescent lights and the musky smell of wet furniture, he couldn't sense anything out of the ordinary, but still something was different. He scanned around the destroyed cars, his fingers twitching experimentally. As he looked around the rusted-out metal frames, his examination was interrupted by Knuckleduster.

'Come on Spider-Man, I don't have all night!'

'Hmmm…' Izuku said, 'Alright, alright, just a second.'

Slowly he walked over to Knuckleduster, head crooked and ears perked for trouble.

'Say Knuckleduster, does something seem different to you?'

'Different? In what way?' Knuckleduster said, lighting his cigarette.

'I'm not sure…' he said carefully, 'Just…different…'

'Hm. Everything seems normal to me.' Knuckleduster grunted, 'So, what's this I hear about you and fourteen murders?' he said casually.

He quit looking around the parkade and snapped his eyes back up to Knuckleduster in alarm, 'It wasn't me; it was Stain! Listen, last Saturday…'

Knuckleduster listened patiently as he explained how Stain had followed him and killed the criminals he had been subduing. When he told him how he had tracked Stain to the Grey Towers Knuckleduster looked like he wanted to interrupt, but instead held his tongue until he finished his story.

'…and then I left Stain to the police. I know they covered everything up and I don't exactly have any evidence exonerating me, but I'm telling you the truth I swear. All of those murders were Stain.' he said earnestly and Knuckleduster was silent for a few moments.

'W-Well…?' he prompted.

Knuckleduster rolled his cigarette and took a long drag before speaking.

'Well that's some story, kid.'

'What?!' Izuku exclaimed incredulously, 'Come on! You have to believe me. Why would I lie?'

Knuckleduster rubbed his stubble as he considered him.

'I don't know. Credit maybe?' he opened his mouth to argue, but before he could say anything Knuckleduster continued, 'Don't get me wrong kid, I believe you about those murders. You don't seem like you've gone off the deep end and I buy that Stain did it. But…' Knuckleduster shrugged, 'You're saying you tracked Stain over the city, by coincidence to the right tower, climbed through the vents and took him out before he even realized you were there. That very same day. That's…pretty wild.'

He looked on helplessly as Knuckleduster tossed his cigarette.

'I wouldn't lie about something like this, old man.' he said in what he hoped was a stern voice, but Knuckleduster merely shrugged again.

'Ugh. You know what? Fine.' he grumbled, 'Don't believe me. It doesn't matter. Because either way Stain has been captured by the police and we can both breath easy. Now as to the reason I called you…'

'Oh, this wasn't the reason you contacted me?' Knuckleduster said and he shook his head.

'No. Remember how I was saying I wanted to meet with the League of Villains and you said I needed a billion yen? Well I was going to give you the money for that tonight, but something came up and now I, uh, might need to wait for another night or so.' Knuckleduster's mouth dropped open in amazement and Izuku raised his hand calmingly, 'Just so you know.'

'Where'd you get a billion yen? You dip into the trust fund?'

'There is no trust fund! I, uh, placed some bets on a thing. Only the proxy I used didn't show up to our meeting so…'

To his surprise, Knuckleduster suddenly burst out laughing. Howling, he doubled over and slapped his knee.

'What?' he asked innocently.

Knuckleduster kept laughing and laughing, before eventually his laughs turned into a fit of coughing and wheezing and he was forced to stop to take a breath. During this episode Izuku was silent, tapping his foot on the floor as he waited for his guffaws to subside. This was the second time today that he was left hanging like an idiot.

'What's so funny?' he demanded.

'You bet through a proxy, eh? Oh, yeah. That's…that's real interesting kid. How much money are we talking about here, the full billion or even more?'

'More.' he said, frowning.

'Well kid I hate to break it to you, but your proxy took the cash and is long gone. He's probably on a beach in southern France right now getting serenaded by beautiful naked women.'

He froze, a dull edge of uncertainty worming into his skull before he quickly shook his head.

'N-No, no, no. This guy wouldn't do that. He owes me. I-I saved him once even!'

Knuckleduster gave him a piteous look.

'You're so, so, so stupid kid. Let me ask you something: This guy who owes you big; is he your brother? Your life long friend? Or just some guy?'

'He-he's a guy I met in the slums.'

'Uh, huh. And what does this guy do?'

'Um…' Izuku was silent for a moment as he thought over the Jack Hammer business card, 'He's like a gambler, conman, hustler…' he felt his face go red. How hadn't he seen it coming?

'Mmm.' Knuckleduster said, nodding at his sudden silence, 'Look on the bright side kid, everybody gets burned once. Of course, in my case it was a used car salesman and not a giant pile of money. Now if you…Hey! Where are you going?' shouted Knuckleduster as he took off.

'I-I might he able to find him yet!' he yelled over his shoulder, 'I'll talk to you later!'

Knuckleduster looked on as Izuku leapt away. Shaking his head, he lit another cigarette.

Knuckleduster was still for a few seconds facing towards the ledge that Spider-Man had disappeared through before giving a low whistle. Behind him a large heap of garbage bags and cardboard fell away revealing a costumed man and woman. The man was wearing a hoodie with a conspicuous pair of bunny ears attached, goggles, and knee and elbow pads while the girl was in a revealing leotard, miniskirt, and black eye mask. The two walked over to where Knuckleduster was standing.

'How come every time you want something it involves garbage?' the woman said scowling and Knuckleduster chuckled, 'So, that's Spider-Man.'

'Yep. The infamous super villain himself. What did ya' think? Was he as scary as you thought he'd be?' Knuckleduster asked, and the woman rolled her eyes.

'He seems a little hopeless to be honest with you.' the hooded man beside the woman said, 'I mean, bet by proxy? Who falls for that kind of thing?'

Knuckleduster grunted, 'Like you should talk, Crawler. When you first started you were getting into all sorts of stupid shit too.'

Crawler shot him a dirty look before continuing.

'Do you really think he took down Stain?'

Knuckleduster threw his hands in his pockets and sighed.

'Maybe. The kid had a point after all. Why should he lie? He doesn't seem like the sort who wants bragging rights. Plus, he's got to be powerful if he survived a battle with Shocker. Maybe he could take on Stain…'

Crawler nodded and Knuckleduster turned to the girl.

'Pop Step, find out why the police haven't buried the murder charges will you? Something stinks about this and I reckon that rat Nābasu's dirty little fingerprints are all over it.'

At that the three began discussing their next move while they left the parkade. As they talked, Knuckleduster couldn't help but feel relieved that they had sorted out all that mass murder business. He got the sense that he was Spider-Man's first contact with the vigilante world and he didn't want to be the one to bring him down.

Keeping to the rooftop shadows, Izuku carefully considered the darkened window of the fourth-floor apartment across the street. It had taken him about an hour to trace the cell phone number he had been given to a physical address. Assuming the billing information he had stolen from the phone company's computers was accurate, this was where Enrique Mbutu – aka Weasel – lived.

He didn't detect any ambush. Leaping across the car jammed street, he landed on the wall next to the window. Sliding it open, he stealthily crawled inside.

He knew the apartment was empty, but maybe there was some clue as to Weasel's whereabouts. A faint smell of unwashed dishes and old pizza boxes hung in the air as he conducted a quick search. Just as he feared the only things missing were clothes, toiletries, and personal effects. Knuckleduster was right. Weasel must have taken the money and ran.

Once he was sure he had seen everything, he went back into the main living area. Absently kicking an old take-out carton across the floor, he flopped down on the man's threadbare couch.

'This is what I get for trusting a man named Weasel.' he said to himself miserably.

Tilting his head to the side, he discovered the television remote poking out from between the couch cushions. With a sigh, he grabbed it. Switching on the TV, he made himself comfortable. Predictably the channel was set to the Sports Network and he recognized the two hero hosts Bob Cat and Lenny Lemon Thrower.

'So lay it on me, Lenny. What do you think happened out there?' Bob asked his counterpart.

'Well uh, Bob, I uh, think what were seeing here is a weakness in the hero classes and a, uh, capitalization by the other students who're moving in to fill the gap.' Lenny said and Bob nodded knowingly.

'I mean…let's cut to the mustard here, Lenny. Izuku Midoriya, talented he may be - and nobody's trying to say otherwise-' he said, raising his arms defensively, 'But somebody like him should not have been able to advance as far as he did in the tournament. That says to me that there might be a training problem at UA. For their heroes to almost lose to a quirkless person is…well it's astounding.'

'Uh, sure is Bob.'

'And let's not forget the others. Several other support department heroes got to the tournament as well. Not to mention Hitoshi Shinso from general education.'

'Oh, yeah.'

'I think going forward UA is going to need to re-examine how they're doing things because as of now, well, I know its early in their training, but…' Bob seemed to be struggling for words before he just shook his head in resignation, 'Not much confidence right now Lenny. Not much confidence at all.'

'I hear you, Bob.'

At that he turned off the television. Once again, he felt the familiar tang of guilt eating away at him. He had pushed his fellow support heroes far in order to improve his own chances of winning. He had even helped design weapons specifically to fight the A and B class heroes, potentially putting their futures in jeopardy, and it had all been for nothing. He could only imagine how the hero students must be feeling.

Maybe it's for the best. I have my hands full with Shocker and his criminal organization already. Could I really handle the League of Villains by myself?

Sighing heavily, he got up from the couch and made his way over to the window.

You'd better hope our paths never cross again, Weasel. You've a lot to answer for.

Mina awoke with a groan. Rubbing her eyes, she reluctantly stirred. She could tell by the sun pouring through her bedroom window that she had overslept. She considered crawling back under her covers to try and sleep off her headache, but she knew there was no point. She would just stew in her own misery, feeling worse and worse unless she got up and did something. With a haggard sigh she climbed out of bed. Stretching, she felt her stomach lurch painfully and she quickly stopped. She still felt nauseous from yesterday. Recovery Girl had told her that it might take awhile for her pH to return to normal, but the imbalance was almost unbearable.

Dragging her feet, she reluctantly approached the mirror. Bracing herself, she looked at her reflection. What she saw made her feel even more sick. Her skin was still an unsightly white hue.

She quickly turned away. Originally when she had heard that there was a two-day break after the games, she had been ecstatic. She planned on winning the tournament (or at the very least getting silver), then going wild celebrating with her friends. But she didn't dare leave the house now. She was a laughing stock.

Not only had she lost in the first round of the first fight. She had lost in such spectacularly embarrassing fashion that she wasn't sure if she could ever show her face in public again. Thanks to her new albino complexion she stuck out like a sore thumb and everybody would recognize her if she left the house. Normally she would have passed the time online, but she couldn't go on her computer either. Her defeat was all over the internet too. Baking soda. She had been defeated by baking soda.

Last night she had made the mistake of rewatching her "fight" against Midoriya on YouTube and the comments had been merciless.

"What, so all I need to beat her is go in my kitchen and throw some baking soda on her and she's done? How did she get into UA?"

"God that screaming! She looks like a pig getting cooked alive!"

"For a while I was going to feel sorry for her, but then I realized that this is what her opponents must feel once she hits them with acid. No sympathy."

After a few moments of indecision, she let herself fall back on her bed. She really didn't know what she was going to do.

Meanwhile across the city, Momo was poised on the couch in her private parlour, her hands clasped firmly on her lap. She was staring at a black television screen, remote control on the cushion next to her. She had been putting it off long enough. She had to see how she had lost the fight against Midoriya. Ignoring the ball of ice in her stomach she took a deep breath and pressed play.

The recording started with the moments just before the match. She and Midoriya were squaring off in front of each other while Midnight went over the rules before beginning her countdown. With the signal from Midnight, she immediately created a shield and staff for herself, just like she had trained. Given the tournament rules she had figured that the shield and staff were a good choice for close quarters combat. Midoriya on the other hand, despite having a nightstick on his utility belt as well as numerous grenades, chose to engage her unarmed. Why? Was he that confident of his victory that he felt he didn't need a weapon to beat her?

She felt her heartrate steadily rise as she and Midoriya met. She opened with a powerful thrust, straight to the solar plexus. If it had connected, the boy would have been stunned and likely would have been unable to continue the fight. However, that isn't what happened.

She watched in disbelief as he casually slipped past her staff and kick out her leg. Stuck as she was in mid stride the blow had swept her off her feet. Then he simply fell on top of her; subduing her with his body weight and choking her with his knee. Perfect.

Momo paused the television and looked at herself in the recording. Her face was red, her mouth open and gasping, her eyes watering and unfocused. What she should have done was make another weapon, something to force him off of her but in the heat of the moment, with her brain being deprived of oxygen, all she could think to do was lash out, which of course accomplished nothing.

Resuming the video, she felt sick as she watched herself feebly attempt to grab his face. Some hair, his ear, anything. Anything to get his knee off her throat. In response he simply shifted his weight and kept the pressure up until she passed out.

Momo paused again. She found herself thankful that the cameras didn't show his face. When she was on the ground and was on the verge of unconsciousness, she had looked into his eyes then and they had terrified her. They were quite calm, relaxed even. Despite being quirkless, defeating her had been as easy as breathing. Was she really so weak?

What if she encountered someone like him on her patrols as a hero? She had always pictured her fights as being against some comically overdressed, flamboyant villain - not a dead eyed nobody inexorably pushing a knee to her throat. Subduing, choking, crushing.

She blinked and looked away from the screen. She had been training with some of the best instructor's money could buy for years. How had she lost?

Shinso resisted the urge to touch his jaw as he left his bedroom. It had been bothering him all night and he suspected it would feel sore for a few days yet. Going down the stairs, he went to the dining room. His three younger brothers were sitting at the table eating breakfast. Upon his entrance they all stopped talking and looked at him excitedly.

'Morning!' they chorused.

'Morning.' he said back. Pulling back a chair, he sat at the table before an empty plate, 'What are you three doing today?'

'Mom says you're taking us to the mall!' the youngest said happily, 'She says we're all gonna go see a movie and go to the aquarium and go to the arcade!'

He sighed, 'Oh really? That sounds…fun.'

Walking in from the kitchen, his mom entered the room holding a frying pan.

'Boys! Only if your brother is feeling up to it. He's been through a lot.' she said, dumping a pile of scrambled eggs on his plate.

'Uh, Mom I'm not that hungry.'

'Nonsense.' she tutted, scrapping the remnants of the pan off, 'You need your energy, Hitoshi.'

She stared at him expectantly. He knew there was no point in arguing with her and he reluctantly lifted his fork. As he began eating, he felt his jaw ache but he ignored it. He'd just have to bear with it. Nodding in approval, she turned on the radio before returning to the kitchen. At that moment, the song that had been playing ended and the morning talk show hosts began talking.

'Goooooooooood, morning Musutafu! How's everybody doing on their holiday? Lot of exciting things happening around town, but of course who could forget about the big event? Yes, the Sports Festival continues with the second year's competing today. What're the chances you think of another Midoriya or Shinso upset?' asked the radio host to his co-host.

'Nill. I know some people out there are holding out hope for a fairy tale scenario, but there's no way someone with an underdeveloped quirk or whose quirkless can hope to compete at the second-year level. What you have to remember is, the second-year hero students have had a year's worth of training under their belt. A person like Midoriya stands no chance, and someone as relatively weak as Shinso couldn't hope to compete-'

To his amusement one of his brothers, jumped up from his seat and rushed over to the radio.

'Ugh! Idiots!' his brother said in disgust, switching the radio off, 'What do they know about anything?'

Shinso shrugged, 'They have a point. It'll be hard work to catch up to everyone if I don't get placed in the hero class. In fact, if I don't get some sort of formalized training soon, I'll probably be unable to ever qualify. That's why it was so important to prove myself yesterday. But because I didn't make it to the podium…'

His youngest brother looked at him in alarm.

'A-Are you saying you're giving up?'

Shinso burst out laughing. His jaw seared in protest but he couldn't help himself. Chuckling, he shook his head.

'No! Maybe I failed this time, but I'm not giving up. I'll show them I've got what it takes to make the hero course, and I'll become a greater hero than anyone.'

That evening Kirishima, Kaminari, Jiro, and Shoji were walking side by side down a bustling street in the entertainment district. In an attempt to raise their spirits, Kaminari had suggested that they all go out together and enjoy their holiday. The others refused at first until he, in a rare demonstration of intelligence, pointed out that because they were all eliminated so early in the competition, it was unlikely that they would get recognized. Reluctantly they had agreed and decided to meet up.

And to his credit, he had been correct. The streets were so crowded with other teens and vacationers celebrating the holiday that nobody had recognized them. They had been able to go to the arcade, bum around the mall, and eat out. It almost felt normal. The only problem was that wherever they went the only thing the people around them seemed to be talking about was the Sports Festival.

At first it wasn't so bad, but after hearing the same dry comments for the umpteenth time; "The second-year events were waaaaay better than the first years." and "It's so weird seeing the second years again. They've grown so much! So much more talented than this year's first year students." they had decided to call it an early night.

'Well I'm glad we could hang out guys, we should do it more often.' Kaminari said enthusiastically.

'Yeah, that would be nice.' Jiro responded, smiling.

'Maybe we could hang out after class on Thursday!' Kaminari said.

'Sadly, I don't think we're going to have much free time once school starts up again. I have a feeling that Mr. Aizawa is going to be working us to the bone.' Shoji said solemnly.

Kirishima nodded, 'Yeah. Remember what he looked like when he sent us home after the festival? Some of us might not even be in class 1-A anymore-'

The pleasant atmosphere instantly evaporated and Kirishima face palmed. In an unspoken rule they had all carefully avoided talking about the Sports Festival.

Jiro covered her ears, 'Aw, please guys, don't bring that up. I was stressing all last night about getting kicked out.' she pleaded.

'S-Sorry.' Kirishima said.

The four fell into an uneasy lull of silence as they continued down the sidewalk, oblivious to their merry surroundings. It was a busy night and the shops were full to bursting. Each window they passed was filled with joyous teens enjoying the holiday, laughing and talking without a care in the world. Now they felt like outsiders all over again.

Eventually Jiro broke the silence.

'I mean we haven't even been trained yet…' she said slowly.

Nobody said anything so she continued.

'And we were all eliminated during the first round before we even knew what was going on. I don't think that like…reflects poorly on our potential or anything. Besides, we've been doing well in the exercises and classwork. Well, I have anyway.' she glanced over at Kaminari and he gulped nervously.

Kirishima looked over at her and smiled encouragingly, 'I wouldn't worry about it, Jiro. You're doing well enough that I'm sure you're going to be fine. In fact, I'm sure we'll all be fine. It's like you said, we lost to a surprise attack, and from the silver medal winner at that. We just need to work harder that's all.'

Jiro smiled back appreciatively, but she wasn't convinced. None of them were. Dirty tricks and cheap attacks were to be expected in the Sports Festival; they happened every year. The only difference was that this time class 1-A and 1-B had been played for fools and the only people they had to blame was themselves.