Of Fists and Fire
Makoto was having lunch with Izuku in the courtyard. The smell of warm homecooked meals permeated the air.
They found the perfect spot too, a bench under the shade if a tree big enough for both. The wind was fresh, clear, as it blew past chuckling laughter.
It was peaceful. Until it wasn't.
First, Izuku just froze. His face contorted from the blissful cheer into one of shock and...fear?
Then came the flurry of heavy footsteps from behind him.
Uh oh.
"You." The voice said, so deep and guttural it sounded like a growl.
He knew exactly who this was.
So Makoto let out a deep breath, turned his head around, looked him in the eye, and said. "Yes?" In the most innocently oblivious tone.
Which served only to further agitate Bakugou.
Good. He thought.
But then he did something unexpected. It happened so quick and was subtle enough that no one but the incredibly perceptive could catch it. And naturally, Makoto was able to see the slight outtake of breath and his facial features relax.
Bakugou, of all people, held down his temper. For what reason, he's yet to know.
Huh.
"I want you to get lost. Right now."
"What?"
This definitely wasn't how he thought this would go.
"I fucking told you to stay out of this. To not get involved with Deku. So I'm giving you one last chance. Leave, and you stay away from Deku before you give him any ideas about being worth a damn because he isn't!"
"What?" He said automatically, because how is he supposed to respond to that? How is he supposed to respond to the sheer audacity?
"And as for you." Bakugou shoved past him, completely ignoring his existence, and straight to the still-frozen Izuku. Who yelped when Bakugou gripped his uniform.
He braced himself for the familiar impact of Bakugou's fist and closed his eyes.
But then, nothing happened.
Did he...change his mind?
Izuku opened his eyes that widened a mile wide not a second later.
Right before him was Makoto. His hand held Bakugou's wrist, which was reared to fire, in a viselike grip. Tight enough to make a sound.
His face, which so often displayed a kind smile and patient eyes, now replaced with an unsightly snarl. And his eyes, gray like the remains of cinders, looked almost alight with a righteous fury.
For the first time, Izuku felt afraid for Bakugou.
And if Bakugou had looked mad, now he's downright pissed.
"The fuck you think you're doing?" He snaps and snatches his hand away from Makoto's grip, yet with slightly more difficulty than he anticipated.
"Don't touch him." He warns.
"I said stay out of this!" Bakugou raised his palms up threateningly, whilst small explosions start popping up. Each one louder than the last.
"Why can't you just leave him alone? He's done nothing to you!"
"You know nothing! This is between me and Deku! It always has been and always will be until the day he finally learns his place!"
Something snaps internally in the depths of Makoto's mess of a mind.
He takes a step forward.
"You listen here and listen carefully. Because whether you like it or not, I'm a part of this now because Izuku is my friend. And as his friend, I won't stand to let you torment him anymore. You hear me!?"
Bakugou's response was a strong punch to the stomach. A low boom accompanying it, evident by the bright light.
The blow was strong enough to knock the breath out of him as he fell unto his back.
"Don't you dare think you can intimidate me! Die!" Bakugou lunged and struck again, this time in the face.
Makoto stumbled back just as he had stood up again.
Bakugou was too fast, he didn't even see it coming.
He raised his fists to fight back, but Bakugou was quicker, landing a kick straight to his temple.
He fell again, this time on his side and a ringing in his ear that drowned out the sound of Izuku shouting.
His hands twitched to use his quirk. But there's nothing for him to use it on. They were in an open courtyard and there was nothing around but grass and dirt.
He's use it directly on Bakugou but...
...
"I wonder how your quirk would work on people."
Izuki pondered while he absentmindedly tapped his pencil on his notebook.
"How about we try it out on me?" He suggested a beat later.
"Umm. I don't know. That doesn't seem like a good idea." Makoto eyed all the previous "test subjects", all strewn about. Pencils, pens, and various unused school supplies all in various states of disrepair and wear and tear. All results of his quirk.
...
He can't just carelessly use it on Bakugou. What if it causes something deadly? Like heart failure?
No, it's just not worth the risk.
He hates his guts, but he can't just kill him. But what can he do?
How can he win when the odds are stacked against him?
His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden excruciating pain in his head.
The ringing was even louder now. Louder until every other sound was blocked out.
Suddenly, the world around fell away. Like it had disassembled itself, piece by piece.
Gone was the courtyard, his screaming friend, and the bloodthirsty hellhound that is Bakugou.
And instead, he was in a class trial. His classmates standing before him in a semi-circle. Talking, arguing, over each other. Monokuma sitting in his garishly grand chair. Smiling deviously at the chaos he caused. There, on an empty spot, a picture frame of Sayaka where her face is crossed off in blood.
He remembers this trial.
The first of many. The death that caused it and the death that resulted from it.
The one where everyone believed he was the killer.
Where all odds were stacked against him.
His first true taste of tragedy.
But he refused to lose.
Out of nowhere, another memory surfaces.
One that had once been forgotten.
He fell onto his back in a flash of movement. The hit was so quick, he hadn't even seen it coming.
"Still up for this, little dude?"
Makoto stood up slowly, rubbing his back as he winced.
"Oof, could you maybe ease it up a little? I don't think I could handle another one of those anytime soon."
Mondo laughed. " Sorry. But I can't hold back my punches. Besides, the enemy won't hold back so why should I? You asked me you want to learn to fight, but I'm also going to teach you how to take one! Now, think fast!"
"Ack!" He ducked last minute, and he felt the air disperse right above him. The punch missed him by mere millimeters.
Pretty shocked at his own victory, he didn't spot the next one directly after.
He stumbled back, hands over his stomach. Yeah, he's definitely going to feel that in the morning.
"Don't get cocky over one small victory. You gotta keep your head in the game and focus!"
Suddenly, he felt Mondo's hands on his shoulders.
"Look, I know you. I know you're damn smart. Smart enough to impress even the detective chick sometimes. But you get distracted easily, and on the other hand, you tend to overthink things too much."
The grip on his shoulders tightens.
"Makoto, do you want to learn to fight?" Mondo asks sternly.
Makoto swallows down the lump in his throat. "Yes."
"Why?!" Shouted the former biker. Shocking Makoto, but he responds in kind.
"Because I want to be able to help! I want to be able protect! I want to be able to do something!" Makoto shouts back. He felt angry too, though he's not sure why.
"WHY?!"
"BECAUSE IT'S THE LEAST I COULD DO!"
There's a pause.
And there's a look in Mondo's eye Makoto can't place. But it's gone and replaced with steel determination in an instant.
Mondo shakes him slightly.
"Now...I want you to remember why you fight. Remember however you want to, whether that's to make a mantra, sing a song or whatever the fuck. Point is, never! And I mean never! Forget why you fight. You want to fight to protect, right!? So I'm saying this to you now, FIGHT!"
Mondo shoved him back and took a stance.
Makoto followed and assumed his own. Taking all of Mondo's teachings in mind.
Right before they resumed training, he grinned a grateful smile.
The world returned to him in a flash. And he realized it all happened not even within half a second.
Bakugou was there again, ready to pummel him to dust.
Makoto stood up again, his legs slightly wobbly from his dizziness.
Bakugou could have hit him again, then and there. But he guessed from the wicked grin, that he was just savoring this moment.
He must have looked pathetic.
But he can't give up now.
Makoto breathed in. And then he breathed out.
He recalls the class trials. They were utter chaos. Where words were thrown over each other here and there, shouting, arguing.
Here, there were fists and explosions instead of words. But what if he had a way to navigate through the chaos?
What if there was a way slow everything down to make sense of the storm?
His eyes narrowed and then he focused. Sharp and precise. Back then, with his eyes and swift mind he'd pick out every detail, scrutinize every testimony, and break it apart.
All within a matter of seconds.
Fists aren't words. But he can be a fast learner.
Bakugou lunges.
He grits his teeth through every hit, every explosion as it burns his skin.
His vision blurs slightly. His mouth tastes dirt a couple times.
It smelled like smoke and burnt flesh.
He could hear people gathering, shouting, cheering, booing. Booing him probably.
He could hear someone crying.
It hurts, but he watches.
He watches, and he observes.
He concentrates.
The sting, the bruises, the burns, the pain.
Not important.
The shouts, the cheering, the crying.
Not. important.
All sounds dulled until all he heard was the steady pulse of his heart beating.
He breaths in. And out.
Remember why you fight, remember why you fight. He chants in his head.
Focus. Concentrate.
Breath in, breathe out.
Remember why you fight, remember why you fight.
Focus. Concentrate.
Breath in, breathe out.
Time slows as he watches and recognizes patterns in his movements. A shift of weight here, and tensing of a muscle there.
A pattern. A signal.
A BREAK
There we go.
The fist that was once fast as a bullet hits air as it narrowly misses Makoto's face.
He will remember why he fights. He'll make sure Bakugou remembers this one.
Bakugou looked shocked for a second. Most likely for missing for the first time. But regains his footing and shoots another punch.
He dodged and Bakugou fired his quirk and another punch.
And he dodges. Again.
A pattern, he spots.
He dodges. Again. Again.
He weaves through explosion after explosion like a dance.
"AAAAAAAAGGGH!"
Makoto dodges, agai- a hit lands in his face and he's knocked prone.
"I'm done messing around! I was just warming up!" Shouted Bakugou.
A blur of dust kicked up in the air. And an explosion rang out once again. This time larger, fuller.
His vision fills with yellow, he jumps back to hopefully minimize the damage. If only a little bit.
rrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing
Everything's ringing again.
It hurts. It really fucking hurts
nO.
Remember why you fight, remember why you fight.
"You know you're not weak, right?" Says a familiar voice in his head.
Another voice spoke.
hiS?
sOmeoNe looked him in the eye. "Because you can't see your own strength."
"- taught us - to be alive again, man! And for once, it felt - how it - to be again."
It's. Getting really hard to see.
"You want to fight to protect, right!? So I'm saying this to you now, FIGHT!"
Bakugou didn't wait for the smoke to clear and ran straight for him.
He eyes the hand going for his throat.
He bats it away and kicks himself off the ground, his foot catches the blonde's jaw and results in a sickening pop.
He hears Bakugou yelp in pain while he steadies and reorients himself from the feedback of the explosion.
A chorus of gasps echo from the gathered crowd, some even pointing at Bakugou.
Makoto sees it too, Bakugou's lower jaw cradled by his hand. Jutting out to the side unnaturally. It was legitimately popped out of place.
Did he really do that? He winced. It looks painful.
"Yewgh" (You), Bakugou says before immediately wincing. Looks like talking hurts him.
He looked shocked and caught off guard. Makoto took advantage of that and kicked him in the gut.
Bakugou flew backwards far enough he almost hit the crowd behind him.
Some people yelped and they all immediately scrambled back, trying not to get caught in the fight.
Bakugou still had a hand on his jaw. It looked pretty bad since it was swelling.
But he got up again and lunged. He fired explosion, after explosion.
But Makoto fought back. Landing an uppercut to his jaw, irritating it further.
He sidestepped a quirked punch, ducking behind Bakugou and elbowed him in the nape of his neck.
The blonde stumbled forward and used to momentum to swing around to hit Makoto with an explosion.
Makoto crossed his arms to shield his face when he felt himself get hit once again, flinging him uselessly to the side.
He gets up quickly, but Bakugou had made the distance swiftly by flying-he can do that?!- through using his explosions as propulsion through the air.
Makoto rolls out the way the last second, letting inertia take Bakugou forward.
Bakugou lands and swings around on his heel and sprints in a mad dash with palms wide open, sparking with light.
Makoto dodges by sidestepping the first swing, gets hit by another before Bakugou pauses for less than a second. Catching his breath.
An opening.
Makoto swerved and kicked toward Bakugou's temple.
The battle proceeded in a flurry of punches, kicks and explosions.
Makoto dodged most. But some of them were unavoidable.
He fought back in kind though. Hitting him in his blind spots, using the smoke to hide and making use of feints like Sakura had taught him to do, and taking advantage of his pauses, leaving him no time rest.
If there was one thing about his physique he's pretty grateful for right now, it's his lightness. He made sure to eye his own footwork too. It made him lithe and light on his feet. Making dodging and sneaking in hits that much easier.
Bakugou was smart though. Because he realized Makoto was watching and observing him. He moved quicker, got more sporadic, making it harder for Makoto to recognize patterns. And ultimately made it harder for Makoto to dodge and hit.
Fine, then.
He can be smart, so he can fight smart.
He can fight dirty.
He ducked under another explosion, grabbed a fistful of dirt, and threw it in his eyes.
Bakugou screeched and it hurt him even more, he realized. Since talking or making sound made his jaw hurt.
Makoto swiped under his legs, toppling the blonde over.
Bakugou stood up again though, faster this time.
His eyes were wide, crazed even. It was uncanny.
Makoto used even more dirty tricks. He redirected attacks, pulled at his hair to knock him off balance, aimed at areas he knows would hurt, especially near the jaw. He took at every opportunity to. just. FIGHT!
It gave him a way to catch up with all the hits Bakugou landed on him.
And it went on and on.
But they were both tired. Oh, so tired.
To the point that when Bakugou had stopped to catch his breath, Makoto didn't take the opportunity to attack like he'd always done previously.
He panted, trying to recuperate.
Bakugou ran at him with an obvious limp and swung at him with his arm sloppily.
It missed by a mile wide.
It would've been pitiable, really, if Makoto weren't in such a similar state.
And then.
Bakugou fell in a heap when his legs could no longer hold his weight.
...
For a second that felt like it lasted for an eternity, everything, everyone was silent.
No one could believe their eyes.
Makoto was still standing, albeit barely. But Bakugou was still laying there.
Did...did he won? win?
He winned?
His vision double and he swayed right and left.
oH. Is. This a con- con- concu- something?
Does he having a concusion?
oh gOd.
Bakugou twitched. And impossibly, he rose from the ground.
Bakugou was purple and red all over- well he could be under the unifrom...
uniform... his own must be in tatters by now what with a the explosonnss and light.
yeah, he probably doesn't look any betterr right now either. EYEther? e-ther.
he can't tell...if Bakugou is getting bigger or getting closer...
The ground scrapes his skin as he is flung backwards.
closer. then.
ow.
it's.
it. getting...
really hard to concentrate.
He stands. slowly, slowly too sloow.
time travel? hah, that'd be crazy wouldn't it?
Alteration? no, he can't.
Might die.
can't die.
They were both standing. But both didn't move.
And then, Bakugou ran.
A fist flies toward him.
Oh.
he winss then.
Then, it all turned black.
After a few good hours and they had both all tired themselves out from training, panting and practically drowning in sweat.
They enjoyed a moment of respite and companiable silence.
Until Mondo said something so softly, Makoto had almost missed it.
"You know you're not weak, right?"
Makoto stilled, unable to find the right response.
Mondo's eyes remained on the ground, deep in thought.
"You don't have to carry the heavy weight on your shoulders alone."
He let out a shaky breath.
"Heh. That's something that took me years to finally learn. But I wanted to give you a head start. And besides, you must be blind or something and do you wanna know why?"
"...Why?" Makoto's voice came out so quiet, it's a wonder it still left his lips.
Mondo looked him in the eye. "Because you can't see your own strength."
"..."
"Makoto, there's more to strength than throwing fists left and right. And I know that must sound strange or even hypocritical coming from a dude like me. But, if there's anything I learned in this dumpster fire of a life I'm living, it's that strength is also in here." He says as he thumped his fist into his chest.
"..."
"Damn. That sounded a little cheesy. You're a bad influence, Makoto." He says ruefully.
"Wha-Says the literal biker gang leader!"
Mondo lets out a laugh. "Oh, you're too easy to tease, man."
Makoto chuckles.
"Nah but seriously, Makoto. What brought this along?"
Makoto cocked his head to the side in confusion. "What brought what along?"
"What made you think you had to learn to fight to be able to "do something"? Or better yet, what was that about "the least you could do?"
"Wow. Umm." He hadn't really expected that question. But how should he answer this? Does he even want to answer?
"It's just... ever since the tragedy, I guess...I've just felt-" he sighed and ran hand through his hair, "I've just felt...useless. or whatever. I just felt like I could've done something, I don't know- Just forget I said anything."
Mondo looked at him incredulously. Makoto, whose eyes decided the floor sure looked very interesting, missed it entirely.
"The fuck are you talking about?"
"I know, I know, I'm just terrible-"
"The fuck man!?" Mondo stood from his spot on the floor staring a surprised Makoto in the face.
"Shit dude, I'd smack the ever-living shit out of you for being so damn stupid if I hadn't already given you a damn beating!"
"Ouch." He deadpanned.
"Let me finish, damnit!" He grabbed Makoto by the shoulders again-Makoto silently prays this won't become a habit- and shook him violently.
"Who told you that!?"
"Told me what?" Makoto replied, feeling mildly freaked out. Well, thoroughly freaked out, if Mondo's crazed look was any indication.
"The sicko that told you you're useless!"
"Wh-what?" He said. The word might as well be his catchphrase with how often he says it.
"Give me a name! And I'll kill that bastard!"
"Mondo that's not-I..." He swallows. "No one told me that, I swear. No killing required. Well... except for me. I guess I was the only one saying that...to...myself."
"Oh." Mondo stopped the shaking. Thank god because he's seriously starting to feel nauseous. "Then you're a bigger idiot than I thought you were!" Then the shaking resumes.
"When the tragedy first happened and we sealed ourselves in this place, everything was shitty. Everyone felt shitty, even our own shits were even shittier!" Ranted a very fiery Mondo.
Makoto winced at the image.
"Too visual- Anyways! Then one day, you decided to take the initiative to help turn things around. In short, you took the awful situation we were in and spit in its face like the damn boss you are!'
That...was actually touching. In Mondo's own weird way.
"Then do you know what happened?" Mondo prompts.
"...uh-"
"Everything was so much less shitty! I'm not good at this peptalk shit if you haven't already noticed, but I'm serious! Because of that, you encouraged everyone to take that step to help things be that much better. All we did before, was sit around on our asses moping about everything and whether we'll see the light of day out there. But now? As a whole, we all saw each other more often. Played stupidly fun games and did some dumb things with each other. Like the firecracker incident!"
"Oh yeah, that. That was pretty fun, huh?"
"And you know what happened next?"
Makoto shook his head no.
"For the first time in a long while, we felt like our age! Not having to worry for survival in the literal apocalypse, not constantly fretting over whether you'd be willing to do whatever it takes to survive! Or whether we'd even make it to the next day!"
Mondo stopped shaking him and instead held his fierce gaze.
"You taught us how to be alive again, man! And for once, it felt like how it used to be again. Back before-"
"Shit hit the fan?" He smirked.
Mondo responded with a playful shove.
"Stole my line you little twig." He chuckles as Makoto joins him.
Mondo sighs, "But I'm serious, Makoto. You're pretty amazing. You're the third strongest person I know."
Makoto felt like he could cry. "R-really?"
"Really, really. And if you want to learn to fight, that's okay too. Don't hesitate to come to me." He points a thumb to himself and smiles a toothy grin. "Just don't forget, you don't have to be able to fight to be worth a damn. Because the way I see it, you've had that and more all along."
"I...Mondo, I don't know what to say." He wipes away a stray tear.
"A "Thank you" would be a good start. And if I catch you looking down on yourself again Imma whoop your ass, you got that bitch?"
He laughs, "Yeah, I got it." He wipes his face again with the sleeve of his hoodie. "Thanks, Mondo. For everything."
"No problem, bro."
"Also, third strongest? Really?"
"PFFT- HAHA! Nah, spot number one and two goes to Chihiro and Taka respectively."
"Any chance you could raise my position?" Makoto jokes.
"Hah! Talk like that a little more, then you'd get downgraded to fourth strongest!"
"What? Then who'd be third strongest then?"
"Sakura. No question." He deadpanned.
Makoto laughs, "And here I thought you couldn't be afraid of anyone."
"Sakura isn't just anyone, dude. Have you seen what she did to the last punching bag? That chick is crazy strong."
"Yeah, you're right. As always."
"Damn right I am."
They laughed. The moment could last forever, and Makoto wouldn't mind.
No, he wouldn't mind at all.
Written: 1/02/2023
Published: 1/22/2023
pops confetti canon* Whoo!
Can you believe it?! This fic reached 50 favorites, 65 follows, and 18,000 views holy crap!
insert pterodactyl screech*
Honestly, I never expected this fic to reach this amount. Or even reach this far into the story! Thanks so much for the support, and for following me this far. Thank you also to my commentors! Y'all all are so great, and I can't tell you how much this story owes it to your willingness to engage. So, thank you!
(Sorry for the long AN...I had a lot to say.)
Anywho all the sappy stuff aside before I start tearing up... this chapter.
This. chapter.
I've been looking forward to this chapter since the conception of this story's premise. The long-awaited face-off between Bakugou and Makoto.
For so long I've been tossing ideas left and right on how the whole thing would occur. And I had a lot, and I mean, a. lot. of trouble trying to make it work. Most of it stemming from the fact that Makoto has a non-combative quirk. At least, not in this situation...
I also wanted to keep in mind Bakugou's sheer badassery. Yes, he's a jerk to Midoriya, but you can't argue against his sheer skill.
Makoto had to stand a chance, not just to Bakugou, but to almost everyone.
So, I decided to give him some skills that makes sense. But also, not making him too op. And in turn, we get a chance delve into some of his forgotten memories that were taken from him.
Also, I think it's poetic that his friends from the danganverse is able to help him. And maybe down the line, help him help new friends too.
And I LOVED writing Mondo my GOSH. I actually never expected such good chemistry between him and Big Mac, man. It just happened naturally! And I loved every second of it!
Right, so I think by now it's clear this Makoto is pretty different from canon Makoto. I think even from the beginning he was a little different already. For one, he was a little snarkier. Like, in canon he was kinda like that, but those were mostly in his thoughts. This Makoto, however, can sometimes let the snark out. Which, I stan. We love a snarky king.
Anyways- this version of Makoto is different. Slightly inspired by the version of Makoto from "Layers" by TellthemNaegi. Without the umm...how do I say this without spoiling this incredible fic...major flaws that that specific Makoto has. Also, I HIGHLY recommend that fic because it deserves all the attention and more because I LOVE that fic, and its sequel...
Ah and also somewhat inspired by the Makoto in "Luster Of Gold" by the same person. Which is also another great fic.
And yes, Makoto used the skill "Concentration" from the game. That's why time seemed to slow, and he was able to dodge and sneak in hits. Which, hey! Makes sense, huh? Tried to incorporate "Fever time" but the part where he weaves around explosions like a dance is the closest, I got to doing that.
Not sure if I'll be including any other canon skills but we'll have to see don't we?
Speaking of canon. The entirety of the killing game and all of that happened the same way it did in canon. The only reason he couldn't do any fighty fighty stuff is because he had his memories wiped which includes his fighty glow-up he got, courtesy of both Sakura and Mondo. Now though, where he's slowly regaining memories from the missing two years, he's been able to fight, but only just now remembering how he did so.
Also, also, speaking of fighty fighty stuff, this was my first time writing combat so I hope it wasn't too bad. It was also pretty darn difficult! How do the others do it so well?
-So yeah, this chapter was a blast to write, and I may or may not have been writing it all in one sitting. hah. hah...erghhh.
Worth it tho. Worth it.
Alright, sorry you had to suffer through my ramblings. I swear my author's notes won't be long next time. I hope.
Well, have a good day/night!