As the eighth practical end of term exam concluded with Hagakure and Shoji capturing Snipe through clever deception and spur-of-the-moment cunning, Izuku ignored the butterflies in his stomach. Out of his sixteen classmates who already took the test, only three failed – Sero, due to falling victim to Midnight's Quirk among other reasons, and Ida and Sato. That left only Matoi and Kirishima's match against Vlad King. And once they finished, he and Kacchan were facing All Might.
The thought made him queasy.
He hated to say it, but the end of term practical exam was going to be extraordinarily difficult for more reasons than he could count. It was one thing to spar against his classmates in training. Or to fight Todoroki in the sports festival. But even if All Might no longer possessed One for All, he was still the symbol of peace and justice. He saw it every day on television when he took a break from studying. All Might stopped a runaway train or took down a dangerous street gang or happened to console a young boy whose Quirk would seriously harm anyone else without suffering a scratch. If All Might didn't hold back, the odds of him and Kacchan defeating the number one hero in the world were less than one in a billion. Which accounted for everything going perfectly and several gods or goddesses shining luck upon them.
That meant to pass the exam, they needed to ignore All Might and make a break for the exit.
Of course, the odds of Kacchan listening to him were even smaller than their chances at beating All Might.
In the aftermath of their work-studies, he might have convinced Kacchan to, well, not follow his plan but realize defeating All Might was impossible. But ever since he showed off Full Cowl, things between them had deteriorated. Kacchan claimed he copied his moves. And while that was true, it was only because of how much he looked up to Kacchan, not because he was trying to insult him. But it wasn't like he could explain that to Kacchan. The only person whose opinion Kacchan would even consider was Ryuko's and they weren't exactly on speaking terms.
Or getting along.
"Piss off, Deku! I don't need your pity! I'm going to get stronger than everyone! Stronger than All Might and Blood Bank! Strong enough to murder that blonde psycho!"
"Huh, looks like Ryu's match is just about to start, ribbit."
He'd been so lost in his own thoughts he'd never noticed Asui and Tokoyami walking into the room.
"The property damage will most likely be catastrophic," there was a noticeable bruise on Tokoyami's beak, the result of a trick failing spectacularly against Ectoplasm.
"I don't think it'll be quite that disastrous."
The side door opened and Recovery Girl, having finished treating Ashido and Kaminari's minor cuts and bruises, neither of which measured up to their embarrassment at falling victim to the principal's strategy over and over again, slowly shambled towards the only empty chair, "I see you're feeling better," her cane tapped against the metal floor with every shuffled step, "It wouldn't take much to make that bruise go away, you know."
"It's fine," hidden by his feathers, Tokoyami blushed.
"Are you sure," one would think an old woman barely reaching his stomach possessed such an aura, but the hawk-headed hero-in-training sputtered as she approached him.
"N-No, it's fine," Tokoyami tried backpedaling, but his back was against the wall.
"Huh?"
The ninth wielder of One for All's brows furrowed, "Why isn't Ryuko wearing her support equipment?"
Arthritic bones ached as Recovery Girl finally pinned Tokoyami and deal with his minor injury before resuming her shambling march to her chair.
"Ah, the Seki Tekko. A remarkable piece of support gear, if I do say so myself," a tired sigh, more exasperation than weariness, followed, "Simple. Elegant. And keeps Matoi from ending up in my office," on screen, the doors to the training grounds opened, "And that's why the principal forbid Matoi from using them. In the real world, nobody would care about heroes using any advantage to maintain the peace, but this exam is meant to challenge you students," she had a feeling Matoi was going to end up in her office by the end of the day. Either through the girl's own actions or some combination of her stubbornness and Sekijiro's hotheadedness, "She was given a costume and that's all she can use. Pass or fail, Matoi will do so on her own merits, not because of some fancy equipment."
It was unfair.
And yet Izuku knew it made sense.
"Team Matoi and Kirishima: Practical Exam! Ready? Go!"
"Well, it's a good thing I've prepared a bed for her," if Izuku didn't know better, he would say Recovery Girl sounded annoyed, "Because this match looks to be quite the doozy."
My Bloody Academia
"Team Matoi and Kirishima: Practical Exam! Ready? Go!"
"Looks like this is it."
Eijiro Kirishima was pumped. Thanks to studying his ass off, he'd walked into the three-day nightmare exam more nervous about forgetting an important date or how to do calculus than anything else. But after more than three hundred questions about math, science, literature, history and essays on how he'd apply his Quirk to six different situations, which had to be a joke because All Might asked that same question in April, he was finally ready to cut loose! No more filling in the bubbles or short answers. This was an opportunity to earn a high score. And with Matoi as his partner, no way he'd fail!
"We better get moving."
The training ground wasn't exactly familiar. Hell, it looked like the neighborhood around his old school. Ground Delta. That's what Mister Aizawa had called it, "No telling when this guy's going to surprise us."
Instead of picking up the pace or acting anything remotely approaching worried, Ryuko opened her mouth and yawned.
It started approximately the same time Aizawa, in his infinite wisdom, announced the teams and which teacher they had the 'delight' of fighting. Half the class was shocked. The other half surprised. But her? She couldn't have possibly cared less. Because it wasn't surprising. She'd figured UA wouldn't go with cheap-ass robots as the final exam. Or, if they did, it wouldn't be something straightforward. It'd be stupid, like hunt down and destroy specific robots as teams. That was fine. What wasn't fine was the principal cheerfully announcing in front of everyone she wasn't allowed to use the Seki Tekko. That was the point her mood soured.
And All Might agreeing with the mouse without having the decency to look her in the eye hadn't helped.
At all.
A method of testing the true limits of her Quirk? Get over yourself! She wasn't born yesterday. And the principal's explanation – oh, she was forbidden from using anything than UA's provided costume because it would pose an unfair advantage over the other students – reminded her of her dad. And not in a good way. Because that annoying filibuster could best be summed as 'I know it's not fair, you know it's not fair, we all know it's not fair, but I'm in charge, so shut up and deal with it.'
"Cool your jets."
And the heat wasn't helping.
She didn't know if Endeavor was in town or the world simply hated her, but the late spring heat wave was unbearable.
Which was a small but important reason they were sticking to the back alleys, "Ain't no point rushing into a trap."
"A trap?" having taken point through no fault of her own, mostly because she didn't care that much to speak up in her defense, Kirishima looked over his shoulder, "You serious?"
"It's what I'd do," one hand buried in her pocket, she slumped around Kirishima heedless of any possible trap, "This isn't some practice test. If we're gonna win, we gotta think outside the box," nobody expected the teachers to charge them as soon as the test started. That would be cheap and unfair. Which is why she expected All Might to pull off something stupid against Izuku and Bakugo. Because the guy was an asshole, "Which is why I'm plannin' on triggering it."
Kirishima stared at her like she'd grown another head.
"Villains are cheap-ass bitches. They ain't gonna fight fairly and they're not gonna play on your terms," the more she talked about it, the more Ryuko found herself remembering that blonde psycho's pet crashing her dinner with Rumi in the middle of a busy street, "You want to win, you gotta throw out the rules and force the villains to improvise," and that pissed her off, "But this guy's less than a cheap-ass. He's a wannabe cheap-ass playing pretend. No way he knows how a real villain talks or thinks."
Not for the first time, and certain not the last, Kirishima couldn't help but compare Matoi with Bakugo.
They even had the same grin, "So, we're going to be the villains?"
"Yup," Ryuko snorted, "The principal said we gotta escape or kick ass if want to win, right?" her skirt, the piece of costume hanging over her leggings, fluttered in the breeze, "I didn't hear any rules about turning the rules on their goddamn head."
"Yeah, but still…"
Kirishima tried, but thinking wasn't one of his strong suits, which was probably why Matoi had shot down his strategy of 'capturing Vlad King for a high score.'
"You sure this'll work?" that her smile didn't fade only made him feel worse, "I mean, you trained with the guy. Won't he, uh, you know, expect you to pull a stunt like this?"
She almost stopped walking.
Then rolled her eyes.
"It wasn't exactly training," calling what she did 'training' was like saying Aizawa had a sense of humor, "More like…" she thought about it for a moment, "…getting punched over and over until I figured out his stupid move," that was an exaggeration. Vlad hadn't punched her. He hadn't touched her. At all. He'd yelled in her face, shouted about how taking shortcuts was wrong and demanded she do everything by the book. It was irritating, annoying and above everything else, productive as hell, "Wouldn't recommend it."
"Geez," as he bought her story hook, line and sinker, Kirishima looked like he'd swallowed a lemon, "And here I thought our teacher was nuts."
"Aw, don't tell me you're nervous."
Her grin widened into a broad smile as Kirishima sputtered. Which she ignored. She had nothing against the guy. She didn't exactly know him. Come to think of it, she really didn't know half the people in her class other than their names and what functioned as basic estimates of their Quirks. And by that, she meant hang out after school or study together or have any social interactions. It wasn't that she didn't care. It was simply that she really didn't care. She wasn't at UA to make friends. If she happened to make friends along the way, great, but she wasn't going to take the initiative.
Not even if her life depended on it.
"Don't worry," shooting her partner another shit-eating grin, just to drive home the point, she casually slapped his back, "Everybody freezes the first time they face villains."
She counted down from ten.
By the time she reached six, Kirishima finally realized what she'd implied.
"HEY!"
He was indignant. He was embarrassed. And he was talking to nobody since she'd kept walking while his brain played catch up, "Look, I get it, you fought actual villains," there was a blind corner between the houses. A sharp turn in the street making it impossible to see anybody coming, "But so have I!" muscles and skin transformed into solid rock with nothing more than intent and a snap of his arm, "I'm not the same person you remember!"
Ryuko wanted to frown.
But mostly she felt confusion.
"Good to know," a cool warmth trickled down her spine, pooled in the pit of her stomach and extended down her arms and legs, "Next time that blonde psycho shows her ugly face, I'll give you first shot at her. Sound good?"
Instead of coming up with some brave retort or a declaration that he wasn't afraid of anything, Kirishima went pale.
"Hmph, thought so."
As her partner for the day's mind took more than a minute to reboot itself, Ryuko shrugged her shoulder. Blood, viscous as the first time she used her quirk, crimson in the afternoon sunlight and smelling faintly of copper. The liquid undulated to music only she could hear. It flowed through her costume's semipermeable fabric as easily as water, curling upon itself in thick streams and rivulets, "Now, if you're done complaining, here's the plan," a little over three liters curled between her fingers, "Unless you feel like eating dirt, charging like an ass ain't gonna work," and faster than a drop of rain fell from her nose onto the ground, all that blood erupted into a blade, "Which is why you and me are gonna cheat."
Cheat.
There was something wrong about that word, "What are you talking about? Mister Aizawa's probably watching us! If we cheat, we're going to get expelled!"
Ryuko scratched her neck.
"I didn't mean cheat cheat," that she needed to explain the different because cheating, which this wasn't, and exploiting her knowledge of Vlad King's Quirk, which it was, was more than enough to destroy her good mood, "Give me some credit! I'm saying since I know how Vlad's Quirk works, we can use that to our advantage!"
"…oh, right. Sorry."
Oh, right?
Was that all he could say?
Leaving the alley behind, Ryuko stepped onto the main street through Ground Delta, "The guy acts like he has a bigger ego than Bakugo, but it's an act. He ain't nearly as stubborn as he looks. But he can't do two things at once. You see blood, any blood? Hit him hard and fast. Don't hold anything back. Hell, kick him in the balls. Take him down before he gets the chance to switch gears."
"YOU THINK I'LL GIVE YOU THE CHANCE TO EXPLOIT AN OPENING!?"
Emerging from the mid-afternoon haze by jumping off a nearby building, Vlad King landed in front of them, his bright red costume standing out more than anything, "IF YOU BELIEVE THAT, YOU'VE ALREADY FAILED!"
"Great, he found us," Kirishima snapped his arms, flesh transforming into jagged rock, "Guess Plan A's out."
"You sound quite confident in your abilities, Matoi," having calmed down from his initial exuberance, Sekijiro ignored the weights heavy enough to drive a lesser man or woman onto their hands and knees, "If you truly believe you can kick my ass, then by all means, try," blood pumped through his arteries and veins, delivering oxygen and adrenaline to eager and waiting muscles, "But don't expect me to make it easy."
"Big talk comin' from a guy wearing handicaps."
As the dust settled and her hair stopped fluttering in the wake of Vlad's landing, Ryuko smirked. How much weight was he wearing? At least seventy kilograms. Maybe more, "Or are those ugly bracelets some kind of fashion cry for help?"
Vlad King was fast.
But he wasn't as fast as Couturier.
And that made all the difference.
Because after doing her goddamn best to hit someone who went out of their way to slow down just enough to make it seem like she could kill her, a guy moving as fast as a train just didn't have the same impact. She recognized his posture. Noticed the subtle expansion of his muscles. Even down the street, far enough that his face was slightly fuzzy, she noticed his veins momentarily bulge during his introduction. Anyone else would probably have overlooked these things. Hell, she was pretty sure Kirishima noticed crap. But while purposely and deliberately taunting the bastard, Ryuko tightened her grip, shifted her left foot inwards and swung just as Vlad King kicked off the street.
BOOM!
As soon as Vlad King's knuckles smashed into her sword, it felt as if she'd tried punching All Might only for the hero to punch back.
And hard.
At some point, he must've kicked Kirishima, because her partner was in front of her one moment and behind her the next.
But she was more focused on the freaking comet punch.
"Did you believe I'd hold back, Matoi!?"
His bicep quivered as blood stilled through pulsating arteries. Veins bulged beneath the crimson fabric of his skin-tight costume. More than a head taller than her and at least seventy kilograms heavier, plus the additional weight from Mei Hatsume's bracelets, Vlad King nevertheless didn't relent, "If you did, then you're as foolish as you look!"
"SHUT…GAH…UP!"
While the bloody asshole talked and bragged and somehow sounded like a teacher giving a lecture while comet punching her with the force of a freight train, Ryuko's head rang from the impact. A deafening note that drowned everything else, including her own thoughts. As muscles empowered by blood struggled against manifested life essence, her lips retreated into a snarl, spit dribbling from the corners, "AND...QUIT...LECTURING...ME!"
She heard Vlad King talk.
His mouth was moving.
But she didn't care.
Sweat poured down her face, whether from the sweltering heat or her boiling blood she didn't know. And didn't care. With one hand holding her sword, she propped the other upon the edge, armored fingers digging into ultra-hardened blood as if it were putty. Her arms burned, her jaw hurt and every muscle in her body was creaking from the strain. Ryuko could feel every desperate beating of her heart. A loud bum-bum. One knee trembled inches from the ground. Her other foot slid backwards, struggling to keep some semblance of balance as she resisted the urge to pour even more blood into the problem. But this was nothing! She could beat him! There was no way Vlad was as strong as Couturier!
No way he was stronger!
"You think I'm weaker than the villain who killed your father? Think again!"
Her thoughts ground to a halt when Vlad's other hand wrapped around her neck.
"Just because I pull my punches, doesn't mean I'm weak," he squeezed hard enough that she gasped, right before he slammed her headfirst into the ground, "You might have learned my move, Matoi, but don't think for a moment that means you've mastered it!"
Through bleary eyes, she saw Kirishima attempt to do something.
But by the time her partner leapt into action, Vlad King had picked her off the ground, spun around and launched sideways her down the street.