Word Count: 3,966
After the first fainting incident, Katsuki made sure to keep a particular eye on the kid on the subsequent days to ensure that it wouldn't happen again.
"The Yaoyorozu kid is a weird one," Aizawa commented a few days later. He, Katsuki, and the half-n-half were standing atop a hill, observing the trainees as they ran up it with weights made from bamboo sticks and sacks of grain hanging from their shoulders. Two weights already lay nearby, belonging to Katsuki and Half-n-Half.
"Hmm," Katsuki hummed, remaining otherwise silent. After getting so thoroughly sassed by Aizawa on that first day, it took a bit of thought before he could say anything to the older man, juuust to make sure that there wouldn't be a repeat incident.
"He's lagging," the halfling noted. And, well, he wasn't wrong, but Katsuki appreciated less obvious observations. However, before Katsuki could make a quick quip at the other boy, the latter continued. "I'm going to go help him."
"What? That's fucking stupid," Katsuki snapped almost immediately afterward.
"Too late. There he goes," Aizawa said blandly as the two made no effort whatsoever to stop Half-n-Half from running down the hill.
Well, it wasn't as if Katsuki thought it bad to help the trainees, per se, particularly one as fragile as that god damn daffodil, but how could any of them be expected to actually get fucking better if they weren't allowed to fucking train? Katsuki stewed in his temper as that shitty hapa took the burden from the daffodil. Seriously. What was with his partner's crazy soft treatment of him?
"Your internal monologue is so loud, I can hear it myself," Aizawa abruptly said. "I would appreciate it if you opened your perspective a bit more. I do agree that Shoto is being excessive, but at least try to get where he's coming from, Katsuki."
Katsuki grit his teeth and spat. Fuck this. Why did he even sign up for this job?
The boy bit his tongue. He knew why.
But maaaaan, fuck that, too.
She hated it. She hated it so, so much.
She'd been trying, trying so damn hard to just run up the hill with the weight on her shoulders, just like all the other soldiers.
Momo knew her limits. She'd learned them on day one.
The captain hadn't even said anything when he took her burden. He'd merely looked at her for the briefest of instants, then ran back to whence he came as if it were nothing.
Damn that fainting incident. She hadn't even been the very last, but that one display of weakness resulted in Captain Todoroki's particular attention and subsequent help. (If you could call it help. Most people wouldn't.)
She caught up with Jirou, the job of running uphill feeling almost easy unhandicapped. Her friend shot her a grin, and they collapsed at the rest point together.
"Got singled out again, huh? That's rough," Jirou said after they caught their breath.
Silently as a cat, Todoroki appeared before the girls and dropped Momo's weights in front of her before she could respond to Jirou.
Momo flinched in shock, then looked up at the captain. Her heart, still unrecovered, was no better off when staring him in the face than when she had been actually running. "Thank you," she managed to get out, but Captain Todoroki merely stared back at her.
"You're welcome," he said after a time, then left.
Jirou made a face. "Weirdo. Came here and then didn't even say anything in particular." Momo was silent, but Jirou, not taking it for anything in particular, kept talking. "You know, lately I've been having this little headache that comes and goes intermittently… oh, look. Here it is again."
Denki stopped in front of the girls and looked mildly hurt. "Wow, okay. Thanks, Jirou. I see how it is," he said and turned to leave. Jirou burst into laughter, reaching out and grabbing his hand.
"I'm joking, Denki! Don't worry about it."
Denki raised an eyebrow and looked beyond Jirou at Momo. "Hey, Haku—"
"HEY, SHITHEADS!" Bakugou yelled, his voice echoing throughout the hilltops. "GET A MOVE ON AGAIN! UNLESS YOU WANT TO BE SITTING DUCKS AND DISHONOR THE EMPEROR WITH YOUR SHIT WHEN THE HUNS COME, THEN BE MY GOD DAMN GUEST!"
Momo, Jirou, and Denki exchanged glances.
Denki shrugged and trotted back to whence he came to fetch his weights once more. Jirou shrugged and returned her own weights to her shoulders with but a slight struggle. She glanced back at Momo, who sighed and shouldered her burden with a strange mix of resentful obligation and weary determination. They nodded at one another in silent agreement and began running once more.
Denki found them again in no time. "I was talking with Kiri just now, and he said he should take up on Bakugou's guest invite and show up in his tent for dinner one of these days."
"That sounds like a recipe for disaster," said Jirou.
"No it doesn't~" Kirishima sang as he joined the group. He looked hardly winded, keeping easy pace with them at a mere half jog. "He did say to be his guest. A god damned guest, but that's still a guest."
As Jirou pulled slightly ahead with Kirishima, Denki slowed down to stay just out of their earshot with Momo. "Hey, Haku, you don't look too good," he said.
Momo grunted and readjusted her bamboo pole. "I can do this. I'm not going to faint."
Denki shook his head. "No, I'm not doubting your physical capabilities. If you say you can, then that's great, and I trust you, but I just mean that you look really… pissed."
In all honesty, Momo never would have guessed it would be Denki who noticed her building frustration. Judging from the binder incident on the first day, she figured he was the oblivious kind who let things fly over his head without a second thought.
Perhaps there is more to him than meets the eye than I thought. So she was honest with him.
"Yeah," she said, for the first time since starting the exercise speaking for a purpose other than mere obligation.
"Is it 'cause you fainted on the first day?"
"Well, that's part of it."
"I noticed Captain Todo brought your weights up to the rest point this time."
Momo found herself and Denki falling behind, so she grit her teeth, adjusted her grip on the pole, and jogged up the hill with renewed vigor. Secretly, she hoped the captain and Bakugou were watching her. "Yeah. He visited after I came to when I fainted, so I guess I just stick out to him."
"That's problematic."
Momo stole a glance upwards at the top of the hill, where she caught a glimpse of Todoroki and Bakugou surveying the rest of the trainees. For the briefest of instants, her and Todoroki's eyes locked, but the moment went by so quickly, Momo wasn't sure if it had really happened at all.
"Not really. Just frustrating."
"I'm pretty sure you can prove to him that you can do it."
Momo looked at the blond boy. "Really?"
Denki grinned back at her. "I believe in you, Haku!" he yelled, then ran off to join Jirou and Kirishima up ahead.
Kirishima grinned as he watched Haku stagger up to the hilltop unassisted. He'd heard the captains talking about him earlier; Todoroki specifically seemed to have taken a particular interest in the boy.
To some degree, he wondered if that was only because his last name was Yaoyorozu. After all, to be considered such a weakling so as to require assistance should by all means result in expulsion; too much time would be spent getting someone subpar up to standard, time that nobody had. Maybe Captain Todoroki had faith in Haku's name, or maybe it was something else. At this point, Kirishima couldn't yet tell.
"OI, MAGGOTS, DROP DOWN AND DON'T STOP UNTIL YOUR PATHETIC MUSCLES FAIL YOU!"
Kirishima broke his train of thought in order to obey Bakugou's orders. Push ups, now those he was good at. He'd done them so often throughout the years, he was confident that he'd be able to outlast any of the other trainees easily.
But, as it turned out, he just hadn't met Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu yet.
The push-up battle had started just as Bakugou had commanded them, with everyone falling to their knees and counting off their push-ups in accordance with their completion. As Kirishima had expected, most gave up when they finished a few dozen at most, but he was just getting started. With a grin, he continued with renewed vigor when the guy next to him failed to push himself up again.
He looked up and glanced around when he was really starting to feel the exertion getting to his chest. Everything was going exactly as he expected— except for one thing: several meters away, among all the dead tired trainees, was someone else still doing push-ups too.
"WHAT?" Kirishima yelled, wasting precious breath and abdominal strength to do so. The other remaining trainee glanced up, and for all of a moment, their eyes met. And within that other man's eyes, Kirishima found the fire of determined rivalry burning.
Three, six, nine. Yeah, the other one was still at it, too.
Twelve, fifteen, eighteen. A couple people were ogling at the two of them now. Kirishima supposed it was because of all the effort they were putting into their battle and not just because they were the only ones left.
Twenty-one, twenty-four, twenty-seven. Kiri's abs were starting to feel the effort, too, but he was so close to winning: the other trainee was grimacing now.
Thirty, thirty-two… thirty-... thirty-... Kirishima's muscles betrayed his determination and gave out beneath him. So thirty-two plus… how many did I do before then? Vaguely, he hears the crowd loing with disappointment, so he pays his competition one more look. Much to Kirishima's satisfaction, the former had also collapsed.
The redhead pulled himself to his feet and walked over to his opponent. There, the silvery-haired man looked up with a scowl, revealing a mouth full of teeth just like his own. Kirishima extended out his hand. "Good fight, old man," he said.
The other man took it gladly, though he raised his eyebrow. "You don't actually think I'm some old geezer, do you?" he asked, and Kirishima blanked out. "The grey hair's just part of the look." The grey-haired man threw his head back and laughed as he shook a dazed Kirishima's hand. "The name's Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu; nice to meet'cha."
Kirishima shook his head to clear away his shock and returned both Tetsutetsu's grin and handshake. "Eijirou Kirishima, call me Kiri—"
"HEY, WE'RE IN THE MIDDLE OF A FUCKING WAR HERE!" Bakugou barked, scanning the crowd and scowling at each and every individual in it. "GET YOUR ASSES OVER HERE."
Tetsutetsu and Kirishima exchanged glances. Not that they were confused or thinking about what Bakugou had said, but it just felt right.
Tetsutetsu snorted with laughter. "Well, see you around, Kiri. Meet me in front of the arrow pole Thursday after dinner. We're doing this again." And with that, the two men parted into the crowd gathering around their instructors.
Kirishima gently pushed his way to the front and was met with two indifferent stares and a piercing glare.
"Now that you have all been sufficiently warmed up, we will begin with today's true exercises," Captain Todoroki calmly explained, picking up a bow and a crab apple as he did so. He tossed the apple up and down a couple times, capturing the full attention of all the trainees, then suddenly threw it high up in the air. Quick as a wink, he drew and nocked an arrow, letting it fly before most even knew what was happening.
Kirishima blinked, and the next thing he knew, the apple was pinned to a nearby tree, pierced cleanly through by the arrow. Woah.
"Archery," Todoroki confirmed, tossing the bow at Bakugou, who caught it without a thought. "Now, who here has the courage to be our volunteer?"
And with that one word, Kirishima felt like all the breath had been knocked out of his lungs. Courage. Courage, courage, courage. And as the word rang through his head, the redhead pushed down the memories associated with it and stepped forward.
"I do," he said, sounding a lot more confident than he felt. However, if the captain noticed his true feelings, he didn't show it. (He did, however, catch the old man raise an eyebrow at him from the shadows.)
"Good," Todoroki said and threw another crab apple at Kirishima, who almost didn't catch it from surprise. Pointing to the tree which had just been shot, he continued, "Stand at the base of that tree and balance that apple on your head."
A little worm of fear began wriggling in Kirishima's belly. This better not be what I think it is… he thought, but he still obediently did as he was told.
Bakugou nocked an arrow, and Kirishima gulped. The apple balanced precariously atop his head threatened to roll off, he was trembling so. With his hearing heightened, Kirishima could hear the bow string stretch taut as clearly as if it were being drawn mere centimeters away from his ear, and he wished that his palms would not sweat so much from the fear.
For what felt like an eternity, Kirishima stared down the point of an arrow and just beyond it, into the concentrated, red eyes of the co-captain Bakugou Katsuki. And for each eternity that passed, Kirishima could have sworn that his heart pounded against his chest countless times in slow motion. Something clouded his brain and his thoughts, and the line between pure and utter fear and total, hopeless something else began to blur.
Whoosh.
Before Kirishima could even register the arrow as released, it had already impaled the apple right off his head, harming not even a single one of his bright red hairs. As a hand floated up just to check, Kirishima let out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. That was something.
He looked up, not even noticing his gaze lingering on the tempramental, butter-blond co-captain for just a second longer than usual, and let out a slight, breathy laugh.
That was something.
Another day, another realization that there was a lot more work to be put into the trainees than he had originally realized.
Shoto sighed as he sat down in his tent after dinner, completely beat and ready to crash for the night, but something on his table caught his eye. Curious, he pulled a scroll that had not been there that morning towards himself for observation.
The paper, while dirtied and not without its fair share of dark brown stains, still appeared quite new, as if someone had taken great care to preserve its quality without considering its cleanliness. Aside from that, the only thing of note was the dark red seal, which was imprinted with 炎.
Aizawa strode in, Bakugou in tow. He also eyed the scroll on Shoto's table. "Oh? And what's that we have there?"
"A letter from my father," Shoto admitted, but not with any degree of fondness.
"Yeah, okay," Aizawa said, returning deadpan for deadpan. In the meantime, Bakugou sulked and scowled, but made no effort to escape the tent.
"What do you want me to say?" Shoto asked when the older man said nothing more.
"What's the letter about, dipshit," Bakugou growled, growing impatient. "Sheesh. I didn't come here to deal with your petty family drama. Just read it already."
"Essentially, yes," Aizawa said, but Shoto simply glared at the letter.
"It's probably just talking about how much better I could be doing," he said disdainfully. "Last time, he evaluated all the trainees he met based on appearances alone and judged them for that. Said they all sucked."
"…That's rough, kiddo," Aizawa said after a pause. "But that's also essentially what I'm here to do today, with your and Katsuki's opinions taken into consideration, of course."
"That's a shitty idea," Bakugou instantly said, and both Shoto and Aizawa looked at him weirdly. Pink dusted Bakugou's cheeks as he explained himself. "We need to read the fucking hapa's letter before we can do anything."
"He's right, you know," Aizawa said, nodding at Shoto, who glared at the older man. After all, despite the former's age and wisdom, he wasn't technically in charge and thus couldn't make either Shoto or Bakugou do as he said. For a minute, Aizawa didn't take the teenage boy seriously, merely giving the child captain a lazy glare, but when Shoto didn't actually back down, Aizawa realized he wasn't actually bluffing.
The true meaning and intensity behind Aizawa's serious glare would never be more than an oddly specific flash of clarity in Shoto's mind, but whatever it was, it was enough to instill fear, awe, and respect for the old man into his heart. With startling promptness, he picked up the scroll he had previously recoiled from and opened it, albeit with a distasteful look.
"Well, half-and-half? What's it about?" Bakugou snapped after a grand total of thirty seconds.
"I can't tell right now. My old man went ham on the extraneity of his characters," Shoto replied, squinting at the scroll. "I have never seen him write like this in my life."
Aizawa held out a hand. "I think I know what happened. Let me try."
Obediently, Shoto handed over the scroll for Aizawa to squint at (which he did).
A few seconds passed, and though Shoto could tell that Bakugou was irritated at the wait, it was worth noting (to him, anyway) that the latter didn't actually complain about having to do so.
Once the moment passed, Aizawa looked at Shoto and rolled up the scroll. "You were right about its contents. I apologize." He tossed the scroll aside. "Present Mic was with Endeavor at the time of its writing, probably still is, hence the handwriting. Emperor Nezu wants their battle against the Huns to be recorded for the sake of history.
There was a pause as the older man set a kettle upon the fire. Shoto held his breath. "That's all?"
"He mentioned he wanted you done with the trainees in three weeks' time," Aizawa replied after a bit of thought. Shoto's stomach dropped.
"That's stupid," Bakugou immediately voiced, and while Shoto didn't agree with the tone or wording, the sentiment certainly rang true. "As if those pathetic meatbags would be ready that fast."
"And it's exactly why we need to discuss cutting those without potential now," Aizawa evenly replied. "It's a waste of resources to develop soldiers who, even at their best effort, won't produce the chance of success."
Shoto and Bakugou exchanged subtle uneasy glances. They had to admit he was right, but they could at least share the knowledge of their solidarity.
Momo played with the hem of her new binder as Uraraka hung lazily from her shoulders. On the ground beside them, Kyouka lay on her stomach, her legs swinging back and forth through the air, a needle and thread held between her lips and her chin propped up on her elbow. Aside from Deku the cricket, the three were having some quality Girl Time by the dim light of a single lantern.
At the moment, it was silent between them, save Deku's chirping, having just finished discussing one of their heavier topics: Momo's physical weakness.
"Hey, Momo," Uraraka said, and Momo hummed in acknowledgement. "I've decided that I'm going to start sticking with you when you go out training. You can't just keep going unsupported like this."
"Hey!" Kyouka snapped, spitting out the needle and stabbing it into the blanket. Uraraka grinned sheepishly at her.
"Well, it's not that you're necessarily unsupportive, Kyo," Momo said hurriedly, adjusting her posture so that she sat cross-legged. "It's just that you're way beyond my level right now, and I can't keep up with anything you do."
"I guess," Kyouka huffed, "but Uraraka, you're like, almost a thousand years old at this point, yeah? Wouldn't that mean you're way more advanced than both of us? What do you have to offer Yaomomo here?"
"Well, uhh…" Momo felt the dragon sit up on her shoulder. "I know that in a good punch, you have to keep your wrist straight and hit with the tips of your first two knuckles in order to have it really hurt your opponent."
"Really?" Momo asked, testing the wisdom out on her palm, wincing when she hurt herself far more than she intended. Uraraka hopped onto the ground and flashed the human girls a smile. "How do you know this kind of stuff?"
"Dragon omnipotence," Uraraka easily replied with a shrug. The girls shared a laugh, but were quickly cut short by someone outside.
"Psst, Haku!" a familiar voice whispered from outside. Momo and Jirou jumped while Uraraka dove under the blanket as a certain redhead poked his head inside the tent. "What's up?"
"Oh, nothing much," Jirou quickly said. "Just two dudes being bros. Trying to master our manly muscle flexes, you feel?" She showed off her bicep for a second, and Kirishima whistled, impressed.
Kaminari also popped his head in. "Hallooo~" he sang, softly because they weren't supposed to be awake. He eyed Jirou's muscles and nodded. "Nice."
"Thanks," Jirou said with a smile.
The boys squeezed into the tiny tent, and the four of them were now seated around the dim lantern. "Sorry about just barging in like this, but Kiri and I realized something," Kaminari said.
Momo bit the inside of her cheek. "What is it?" she asked, hoping the poor lighting would keep herself and Jirou from getting caught.
"We haven't had any deep and manly two a.m. soulbonding talks between all four of us yet," Kirishima answered very seriously. "Denki and I had one a couple nights ago. I'm assuming you and Karma had one when you guys cleaned out the bathroom on the first night."
Kaminari nodded. "What is a friend you cannot trust but yet another hidden enemy?"
"I had no idea you could spit straight wisdom like that, Denki," Jirou dryly remarked.
"Thanks, Jirou."
"Shh!" Kirishima gave Momo an apologetic look, though it quickly morphed into an excited grin. "So, are you guys in? Deep two a.m. soulbonding talks, let's gooo!"
Momo and Jirou exchanged glances. The former bit her lip; she had rather wanted to give some more thought to guaranteeing her spot in the training camp, as an uneasy feeling had been building in her gut throughout the night.
But, she reminded herself, your life isn't comprised of studying anymore.
Jirou turned back towards the boys and nodded confidently. "Sleep is for the weak," she said, and everyone huddled closer to the lantern, excitement reflecting in their eyes.
"Well then," Kirishima said gladly, "I guess I'll start…"
Author's Note vi. hi! sorry i've been gone, but i'll be gone a little while longer yet. after a not-perfect score on a mock exam, i've been studying like mad for ap chem in order to redeem myself and kick some ass. that does include cutting back on all my anime time (as commanded by my old chem teacher (i'm sorry sir ;ww;)) and some of my writing time, and just in general i've blocked off fanfiction's ip address so i can't access it to distract me. ah, tough life. tough titties.
anyway long chapter. longest chapter i've ever published i think. can you believe when i first started writing, my minimum word count per chapter was 1k? now it's 2.5k, but i've been thinking of upping it to 3k with the kind of stuff i've been writing lately. hmm.
anyway dang that kiribaku moment when the arrow was shot i had fun writing that. it affects both of their characters too. a couple hints to bakugou's past in this chapter, but i'll tell you now: that's not getting cleared up in this fic. insert babbling abt plans for the sequel here.
anyway, expect me back on like, may 10th. until then, thank you for reading, follow/fave if you're new/interested. reviews are greatly appreciated if you're into leaving those, and as always, have a greaaaat daaay~~