Tremors: Chapter 2 - Numbness
Author's note: Thanks for the reviews that were left! Hope you enjoy this chapter and let me know if there's anything you think I should be doing.
Friday finally rolled around at Yuuei, bringing many relieved sighs from the hardworking students and exhausted teachers. Izuku had spent the week thinking more about special moves and how he could further refine his shoot style. Although the license exam was over, he was trying to build his skills before he sought out somewhere to pursue an internship.
After meeting the Big Three the class as a whole was feeling one of two ways. Some, like Izuku, saw the gap in skill level and became determined to work harder to improve. Others, like a certain grape-headed boy, were so intimidated by the seniors that they had become uncertain and were looking for ideas about where to go next.
As two of the most motivated students, Izuku and Bakugou, despite being on temporary house arrest, were driving the other students, especially those lacking in confidence, to move forward. The two pseudo-leaders of the class themselves were frustrated, by both what they saw as slow progress and by their temporary confinement to the dorms. Stuck in the dorms, stewing in their frustration and desperation to improve, all Izuku and Bakugou could do at the moment was take their emotions out on whatever dust, dirt, or mess crossed their paths.
"Damn shitty hair and his muddy crocs!" came a shout from an explosive blonde, reaching the ears of the only other person in the dorm.
"He really loves those shoes, Kacchan, even though they're a little ugly," Izuku replied, sweeping his way through the kitchen, "I'm going to get started on the dishes in a second, do you want to get started on mopping the floor?"
Bakugo stormed over to the broom closet, "Shitty Deku, don't tell me what to do!"
Izuku hummed and gathered up the cups and plates from breakfast, left where his classmates had been just an hour before. He was deep in thought, having spent the night before analyzing the fighting style of various acrobatic heros, hoping to find further inspiration for his developing fighting style.
'Smash!'
Izuku jumped back as a sound echoed up from near his feet.
"Clumsy Deku," Kacchan called from where he was filling a bucket with water.
"I didn't even realize I had let go of it," Izuku half-heartedly responded, bemusedly placing the unbroken dishes into the sink. He grabbed the small broom from behind the refrigerator and swept up the mess he had made. Izuku then went back to the sink, Bakugou now beginning to wipe the floors on around the table with the mop, a scowl on his face.
"If I step on glass shards because of you, I'm going to put your head down the drain," he said to his green-haired rival.
Izuku almost smiled at the words, washing soap suds over the cutlery in a rhythmic motion. The warm water felt soothing as it poured over his scarred hands, steam rising from the sink. Once the drying rack was full, Izuku grabbed a dishtowel and began hand drying the plates before putting them back into the cupboards. He reached up with one hand to place one on the stack while turning to shut the water off.
'Crash'
Yet another sounds startle Deku into jumping backwards from the cupboard, bumping his back into the counter behind him.
"Deku!" Bakugou shouted, throwing his mop in the bucket and storming over, "Quit breaking all the fucking plates or you're gonna be buying new ones! Why can't you even clean properly!"
Izuku just blinked and stared at his hand for a moment. He hadn't even felt the plate slipping from his fingers, hadn't felt like his grip had changed at all. How had that happened? His reflexes weren't that bad were they?
"Tch. Go mop the floors nerd," Bakugou said, shoving Izuku away from the counter. He had noticed the nerd staring at his scarred hands and didn't think it wise to continue letting the dumbass breaking plates.
Izuku didn't protest and went over to take Bakugou's place. His eyebrows were furrowed slightly as he focused on his small mistakes. It didn't matter that much that he had broken two plates, they had loads of them. But why didn't he feel the plates moving in his hands? He had maybe noticed a little less feeling in his fingers after his visit to the hospital, but was it really effecting his motor skills that much.
Taking the mop and the bucket, Izuku began to carefully focus on his hands as he used them to mop, listening to the soft pops as he wrapped his hands around the handle.
'At least I can still mop floors,' he thought, feeling somewhat downtrodden in spite of himself, 'come on, Izuku, you knew your arms were damaged. You'll just have to deal with it.' He continued his task in a subdued fashion, ignoring his childhood friend across the room.
Bakugou watched Izuku out of the corner of his eye, finishing up the dishes the greenette had started.
'Shitty nerd' he grumbled internally, thinking of the other boy's scarred hands. He wasn't worried about the other, of course, but he hoped that the nerd wouldn't let his dumb hands hold him back in training.
'He's already a weakling' Bakugou thought savagely, poking a stray bubble aggressively, 'should just go to the old lady and make her fix his hands. Maybe round face can make him go.'
The two boys continued to clean for the rest of the day. One was now burdened with an extra worry about his apparently failing body and the other was frustrated because he had to worry about someone he definitely did not enjoy worrying about. When their classmates returned from class, they noticed Bakugou's stormy mood and all but a few made sure to steer clear of the blonde.
"What's up with you, bro?" Kirishima asked, sitting down next to Bakugou at dinner.
"Shitty Deku is being stupid," was the response, grumbled between bites of curry.
Kirishima raised his eyebrows at his friend before glancing down the table at Midoriya, who was softly smiling at something Todoroki was saying. If Bakugou was worried about the green-haired boy something serious must be going on. Before Kirishima could ask more about what was going on though, Bakugou got up from the table and walked by the sink, reaching down and grabbing Midoriya's empty plate as he passed by. Kirishima's eyebrows raised at the seemingly kind action, but he noticed Midoriya also winced slightly as he watched his plate be taken from him. Turning back to his own food, Kirishima resolved to keep a closer eye on his friends, slightly concerned now himself.
'Whatever is going on, I hope they ask for help,' he thought before mentally sighing once he remembered who he was thinking about, 'or at least they hopefully don't die before they're forced to get help.'
