7 - The Bloody Honey

"Through my blood."

"Through my blood." Yuka chanted back.

She turned the words into something more than a prayer. Into an answer to the question of victory.

Ken smiled.

"Are you ready?"

"Always."

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.

Ken had just walked free from Hound Dog's office, the taste of lies and half-truths fresh on his tongue. The session did nothing but irritate him, and that dog's nose sniffed it out with every second that passed. Of course, he made sure not to say anything that would potentially out him, or anything related to his past at all. At least not the truth of it.

Only the crafted persona of 1-A's student. A quick admission of selflessness overtaking rational thought, the heroic need to save everyone which blinded him from his sense of pain and fear.

He said that the deaths of those villains still haunted him, that he felt like their blood was on his hands because he couldn't stop the fight from escalating. Ken had even told Hound Dog the fight with the Nomu was the most force he'd ever used with his quirk, and that he had no intentions of ever using fatal power against a human in fear of the blood that would spill his hands.

Ken found that it was… easy to lie now.

His cover was solid, and the only one who had suspicions on him was Midoriya. Suspicions he couldn't prove.

Now… It was time for the Sports Festival.

A week had passed and Ken had kept his calm. He hadn't lashed out against Midoriya, and he hadn't done anything risky like going out to a bar to keep his sanity in check.

Tri-angle had come by again this time, and left with nothing new. As much as he liked getting the man pissed off, he didn't want to spend more time than he had to here.

He'd gotten closer to the Bakusquad, particularly with Ashido.

She was easy to talk to. But she didn't open up much about her own life. He knew Kirishima and her far back, but he didn't rule her out of anything just yet. Her cheerful attitude could always just be an act.

He was tempted to write Bakugo off the list for the sole reason of him not attempting conversation with anyone. Ken realized it was just him being dragged around by the others most– all of the time.

Kirishima always kept a smile on his face – Ken didn't like it.

Kaminari's aloofness could always be an act too.

Sero was laidback and only brought attention to himself when prompted by others. He read the room and always said the right thing. Ken was the same, and Sero could be lying.

All of them were lying about something. He just had to find out who was lying about being a hero.

That was okay though. With enough time, he'd figure them all out. He'd deceive them all.

Which brought him to the Sports Festival. A week had passed and Ken had debated on whether or not he'd really try to win the festival. Ken had kept himself low profile – except USJ – and didn't want to deal with suddenly being at the top.

He had no doubt he could do it, but he didn't know if the attention was worth it. The spy would report back to All For One, and Ken didn't want that happening.

Whatever history there was between the boss and AFO was something he wanted no part of. It would cast a lot of suspicion on him from even the teachers were he to suddenly get better at fighting for no apparent reason.

But there was a reward. She hadn't told him, but she said it was something Ken would know. Something he'd recognize… But what?

What was it that only he would know, and would be a prize? She wanted him to win but he didn't even know for what – but she wouldn't ever say something like that without a good reason.

Was it worth the risk?

Did he have a choice?

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BA-THUMP

The cheers of the audience were deafening. They stomped their feet against the stands like the beat of a war drum. It overpowered his senses, knocking out whatever plans he had in mind when he walked out into the field.

His breath quickened, vision blurred, body set alight with fire.

BA-THUMP BA-THUMP BA-THUMP

Ken heard what they called for.

"DEATH! DEATH! DEATH!"

The walls turned inwards onto him, growing overhead and blocking out the sky. The concrete floor beneath him shifted into uneven gravel and sand, painted with blood and guts. Faces swirled in the darkness behind the long and barbed cages, sinister and perverted.

They wanted blood.

"Kitajima?" A voice called beside him. He didn't recognize it. It was muddled by the roaring of the crowd, by the blood that ran in his ears.

"Yuka?" He asked. Why was she calling him by that name? Why was she here? Is she–

"Yuka? Who?– Are you alright?"

Oh.

"Ashido?"

I'm here.

"You spaced out there for a second. Like totally zoned out. Did you catch anything that Midnight said?"

Ken looked up at the bawdy woman, gears churning in his head. The barbed cage, the stained walls, it was all gone. Instead of a bloated and ugly man wielding a flail, it was a buxom woman with a whip in hand.

His mind felt slow, as if the blood had been replaced with lead. Like the world had shifted back and forth from reality to the confines of his twisted imagination.

Ashido caught on to his lack of knowledge, thankfully. "The obstacle course is the first trial." Then she smiled – but her hands seemed jittery. "You seem excited about it."

He forced his mind to focus solely on the conversation.

"A little anxious too." Ken rubbed the back of his head.

"Your smile says otherwise."

"Eh?"

His hand darted up to his mouth, touching the stretched and taut cheeks.

When did I do that?

"Nervous smile y'know? Helps ward off the worst of it."

"Really?"

"How do you think heroes do it?" He answered with a grin of his own making. Ashido's facade wavered, her anxiety trickling into her features.

"It's just– it's a lot. I know I can do it, but it's a little scary y'know?" It must have been a lot, Ken assumed. For a fifteen year old to go up on a stage for the entire world to watch them, to judge them and gleam whether they were worthy to be a hero.

But it's nothing to me, right?

Ken slipped his hand over her own and squeezed gently. "You've got this Alien Queen."

She squeezed back, and her smile seemed a little more genuine this time around. "Oh come on! You've gotta tell me what you've got in mind for a hero name!"

Ken tapped his finger against his chin, feigning deep thought. "Only when you throw the round if you're up against me."

"That's a horrible deal Kitajima."

"Well… Alien Queen isn't exactly the best of names for an even trade–"

She lightly punched his shoulder and he snorted in response.

"So much for mental support." Ashido pouted.

Ken couldn't stop the words that spilled from his mouth, "Do you want to know a small prayer I always tell myself before something big?"

"A prayer? Didn't take you for the religious type Kitajima."

Ken regretted saying anything at all, but only for a split second. It wasn't as if it was a big secret. It was harmless. "Not religious at all, just a mantra really. Helps calm me."

"Go on then." Curiosity was written all across her face, as if it was the first time Ken had ever spoken. In a way, it sort of was. "Better not be some cheesy quote."

"You like those though." He raised a brow.

"Only in equally cheesy rom coms."

Ken rolled his eyes and sighed. "Through my blood, will I find victory."

"Woah. A little intense isn't it?"

"Sets the mood."

"Kinda like it."

A smile took hold of his face.

Ashido seemed flustered all of a sudden.

The smile quickly dropped when he heard Kirishima calling out to the two of them to have them join the start line.

He took in a deep breath, and the two walked over in silence. At least until Ashido had spoken up.

"Through my blood, will I find victory." She whispered under her breath, loud enough so only he could hear it. "Right, Kitajima?"

"Right." Her eyes shined at him, like little golden suns of warmth and trust.

Ken felt his throat tighten. He thought he saw his own reflection in them – icy blue eyes a jarring contrast to her own.

.

.

The obstacle race was a challenge. Ken hadn't expected it to be as hard as it was in all honesty. The obstacles themselves weren't the problem, though. It was the contestants that were making it far more annoying than it had to be – primarily Todoroki. But he had made it through at thirty first just by the skin of his teeth. Ken had made it through and without garnering too much attention to himself – that's all that mattered.

Unlike Midoriya.

The idiot propelled himself to first place with the landmines in a fit of madness or genius – which also painted him the biggest target in the cavalry round.

Speaking of that…

Ken's eyes landed on Ashido and her friends huddled together chatting maniacally of whatever plans they were formulating. He had known there was probably going to be a round where he had to team up, and frankly he had no idea who exactly he could team up with. Compared to her, even in the field full of an odd number of forty, Ken was isolated.

Most had already grouped up with their friends, and from the looks of it so had Ashido. Which meant he was alone.

He knew no one from Class 1-B, and they didn't seem to even spare a glance in his direction – not even the ones with members less than four. Ken knew he needed a team, which probably meant he needed to go and ask to be a part of one–

"Oy."

Or not.

Ken craned his neck to the deep and sultry voice behind him. There was something off with it. His body reacted instinctively, wrists locked up, and his shoulders tense in case his arm had to spring outwards.

He met eye to eye with the tall figure, deep purple eyes with dark bags under them staring unflinchingly at Ken. A wild plume of purple hair jiggled on top of his head as the other boy cocked his head at Ken, curious and searching.

"Do you want to be a part of my team?" The boy, a gen-ed student if he remembered correctly, shot his thumb behind him. A pair of his classmates were there. Aoyama and Ojiro. "You look like you might need one."

How'd that happen?

Ken ignored the question in favor of his own. He'd rather know what he was getting into. "What's your quirk?"

"What? Not even an introduction? Quite rude don't you think?" It was like the air vibrated around him when he spoke, controlling and powerful.

What is wrong with his voice? There's something in it pulling at my own tongue to answer him.

A static-like feeling grazed the edges of his consciousness. An uncalled for numbness pounding at his brain.

"What's your quirk?" Ken repeated, his tone cold and unforgiving.

The boy flinched – an imperceptible detail – but persevered. "How about you tell me yours first?"

"Not until–"

Ken lost control, his arms turned boneless, his shoulders dropped their tenseness, his mouth shut like a trap gate. He lost control.

But there was one thing that burned inside of him. Like a flash of lightning. It was painful, and it made him feel like skin and nerves had been seared off by an explosion.

A festering, all-encompassing feeling.

Rage!–

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Shinso was a little worried when the 1-A student – who's name he couldn't recall – refused to reply to him at all, almost like he knew what his quirk was. Which couldn't have been possible. The hero-hopefuls couldn't have cared less about anyone but themselves.

He'd show them not to underestimate him – but it was better that they did for now. It'd give him a higher chance of winning the Sports Festival and making it into their class in the first place.

It may have been a mistake taking control of two students from 1-A in case they tattled to their friends, but it probably was his best shot. He'd just have to lay low and play it safe for the upcoming round, strike when nobody is expecting, and do nothing when they do expect it.

Shinso's nerves felt fried though, not that it showed on his face of course. He put an effort to not show any fear or anxiety, it keeped his opponents guessing.

Shinso turned his focus back to the empty blue eyes that stared at him awaiting his command. His stomach churned at the sight, but he shoved the feelings away for a later time. "Follow me." He needed to win. That was all that mattered.

Like an aged doll, the boy stiffly followed after him towards the other two.

(Chills ran across the back of his skull.)

Laser beams, a large tail, and… I have no idea what his quirk is. But it won't matter too much if I just stay on the sidelines until the very end and use my quirk to take headbands before they realize what I'm doing.

It would still be nice to know though. Just in case I'll need it. I didn't see him use it in the obstacle race, but it's probably an emitter type quirk.

Shinso sighed. If this works, I'll take these three with me to the next round – I just hope they don't realize or tell anyone what I can do.

"FORMED YOUR TEAMS? MADE YOUR PLANS? TOO BAD IF YOU HAVEN'T!"

Shinso quickly set himself atop the three 1-A students, and made sure to keep away from most of the other groups.

"HERE WE GO! THE COUNTDOWN TO THIS BRUTAL BATTLE ROYALE!"

Breathe.

In, and out.

Most teams are going to go for Midoriya.

"ONE!"

That's just fine with me.

"TWO!"

I don't need to stick out, not now. I just need to make it past this round. Shinso scanned the arena, watching as most teams were pointed towards the 1-A powerhouses and ignored him hiding away in the corner.

"THREE!"

Everyone could feel it. The adrenaline rush. The blood calling for sweet victory.

But Shinso reigned it in, knowing he could not match the others in their power. He knew better. He had other ways to fight. To win.

"GO!"

Immediately his ears were assaulted by loud explosions and the roars of the other groups, and Shinso made his three stooges move farther away from the commotion, instead choosing to stay near the bounds and scare off any teams who wanted his headbands.

And a minute had passed…

As the teams battled it out in an effort to score themselves as number one, or at least enough to get through, Shinso bided his time until the very end to make his move.

(The tingling at the back of his head turned into more of a tug.)

Shinso looked down at his 'horses,' the three as blank faced as ever and awaiting his command. Though one's grip was a little tight. Uncomfortably so.

"Loosen up your grip." He commanded.

He felt two pairs of hands do just that.

Two?

Fingers dug into his shins and into tender flesh. "Loosen your grip!" He winced and tensed at the sharp and sudden pain on both his legs.

Shinso realized who it was.

What?

The blue haired boy just directly beneath him wouldn't let up his grip.

Why isn't my quirk working? Can he not hear me?

Shinso leaned over to get a closer look at the boy's face, hoping to see the same doll-like face for once in his life.

Blood dribbled down pink lips.

Did he bite his tongue?!

Shinso felt a sick feeling bubble in his chest. What did I do?

"Open your mouth!" He quickly ordered as concern took hold of his senses.

What did I do? What did I do?!

In his manic panic, Shinso failed to notice the tense, twitching hand snaking up towards his face.

With the strength of a viper's bite, fingers snapped into the joints of his jaw.

The surprise outweighed the pain before he felt himself yanked downwards – his spine and neck bending painfully. Shinso found his face right next to the blue haired boy's as he was bent painfully to his level.

Shinso felt tears gather at the edges of his eyes as the grip on his jaw tightened, and as fingernails dug into his skin. He couldn't speak if he wanted to, he couldn't say anything.

It felt like cold metal against his skin. It felt like a muzzle.

Shinso felt a pathetic sound escape his throat as his hands scrambled and failed to make the grip loose.

Hot breath tickled his ear and made chills violently run along his back when he spoke. "Don't." He squeezed and Shinso squirmed. "Ever, use your quirk on me."

How?!–

The boy's teeth clanged against each other loudly as he bared them at Shinso like a rabid dog. Blue eyes bulged, looking dark and murderous as they stared past his eyes and into his soul. "I will rip your fucking throat out with my teeth if you even think about it." His teeth were stained red with blood that flowed freely from his gums. It was as if he had bit down hard enough on his own teeth to make it so.

Shinso nodded his head as much as he could under the iron grip to show he understood. It felt like a muzzle from a time long past had glued itself to his mouth.

He struggled to pay attention to anything. His mind was whirling and his entire being felt off kilter, as if everything had been flipped on its head.

I'm safe– The grip wouldn't loosen. I'm–

All he could see was the blood stained teeth bared against him, all he could hear were the audience's screams of villain, and the muzzle that etched scars on his face.

Shinso didn't know what sounds escaped his throat, but the cold steel finally left his jaw.

"You will do as I say."

He nodded frantically once more.

The boy's fingers clenched and unclenched along his shins and Shinso could feel the boy tense up repeatedly, as if trying to force himself to be calm. "You will use your quirk whenever I tell you to and you will get me into the top four."

Reality hit him like a freight train moving at light speed and he remembered what he was doing. Where here was. He was at the Sports Festival, trying to become a hero.

The battleground was back into focus again, but this time he wasn't the one in control. Not even with a quirk like his.

"Follow my lead."

Shinso lost balance, the blue haired boy marching forwards while the other two also holding him up stood still.

"What are you doing?!"

"I– I have to order them to–"

"THEN FUCKING DO IT!"

Shinso almost leapt off his spot as the rider at the sudden volume.

"Then do it." He repeated, his voice cutthroat yet silent. The whiplash had Shinso take his sweet time relaying the orders.

But not before another team had finally laid their eyes on their headbands.

The ground shook with loud thumps just as they had regained their balance.

"Move them left!"

Shinso repeated the commands just in time to avoid the barrelling form of the large beastlike 1-B student.

The furry hero student spun back around to face them with a rabid snarl, and the pony-tailed rider grinned at Shinso as if eying easy pickings.

Shit!

"A little rude don't you think?!" His mouth moved before he could think, instinct and fear controlling his actions.

Shinso felt his heart beat with joy when the corners of the other rider's lips tilted just a bit farther up as if he was going to reply–

"RAAAAGH!"

It was as if a paintbrush had been brought down upon the stage, dying the arena with a splash of deep and viscous red. Blood spewed from the beastman's shoulder down his arm as he screamed in pain, desperately clutching at the sudden and vicious wound that marked his skin.

"Shishida!"

…What?

"Focus." An ice-cold voice cut through the fog, as blunt as always. "It's only a flesh wound." He said as Shishida groaned in distress.

There was so much blood.

"You– I had him–" Shinso's mouth had snapped shut when he heard Present Mic's booming voice call out his name.

"IT LOOKS LIKE TEAM SHINSO HAS FINALLY MADE A MOVE! A VERY DEADLY ONE AT THAT– we do we have RG on standby right?!–" "Your mic is still on–"

Other teams had looked in at the commotion, eying Shinso's team with a curious and fearful glint. Even if it was only for a split second, everyone had their attention on them.

"What did you do?!" Shinso yelled and he could feel his quirk flare out of control.

But he got no reply to his question, only another order. "Get us closer so you can grab the headband." The boy underneath him raised his hand, flattened and straight like a blade.

And without a second to spare – before Shinso even had time to process the last ten seconds of his life – the hand flung out with startling speed.

"Forwards!" The command came in just as another splash of blood painted the field. Shishida's furry thighs were stained and slick with blood. The beast buckled under the strain, knees giving out from the pain and his rider sent off kilter as he struggled to latch on to the bigger boy.

Shinso froze.

The blood kept running. The teams kept fighting. Shishida kept moaning.

Everything was going wrong. Where did he mess up? He just wanted to be a hero– was it his quirk? It was his quirk that failed him at the entrance exam. His quirk that forced him to control others. His quirk that brought as much pain to him as it did to everyone around him.

Shinso didn't sign up for this.

Then, as if sensing the internal crisis within Shinso, he spoke.

No more than five words, but they were enough to knock the air out of his lungs. Five words that weighed above all else – his one desire. It was whispered, yet it overpowered the roaring beat of his heart and the cheers of the audience. Shinso was sure it would have been lost with the wind had it been anything else.

"Do you want to win?"

It was as if a devil had spoken into his ear. A bloodied hand extended outwards to him, waiting for Shinso to accept the twisted deal.

"Yes."

It felt like he shook hands with a corpse.

"Forwards."

He obliged, blood burning with fervor he hadn't known existed until now.

Shinso had spoken the words with no hesitation, uttered not even half a second before the boy beneath him had finished speaking.

The grip on his legs loosened, and they sped towards their target.

The enemy rider looked up – his eyes bulging – just in time to raise his scaled arms.

Shinso's eyes widened when a scale had shot off like a bullet faster than he could react.

But he didn't have to.

All he caught was the surprised expression of the rider between his split scale as both pieces sailed past his head.

There was no time to think on the save when they were close enough to get punted away like bowling pins by the enraged beast.

No time at all to communicate, and yet both Shinso and his horses moved in sync as he spoke out the command to pivot away from the trunk-sized arm, but close enough for them to stay in range to step back in.

It was exhilarating.

The scent of iron and the struggle to stay atop pawns who slipped and slided on blood. The risk of failure and rush of victory.

Is this what heroes do?

Shinso ignored the specks of blood that landed on his cheeks, and instead honed in on the pure white and bold red headband of the disgruntled rider. His eyes strained, watching a scaled hand sail across the air in slow motion.

I can do this.

He leaned far back, missing the sharp edge by an inch, and felt his hair tickle the face of one of his pawns. The blue-haired boy seemingly distracted the beast with ease, his hand extending outwards towards the fresh wound on his furry chest and squeezing.

Shinso reached out with both hands with a speed he didn't know he held, and yanked at the arm that tried cutting him.

Shinso felt his cheeks stretch with what must have been a rictus grin. Effectively unbalancing the rider, he pulled even harder to completely displace the ponytailed boy off the beast. The two were face to face for a split second, and Shinso stared right into pitch black eyes as he quickly grabbed the headband.

But before he landed flat on the ground beneath them, and before he completely left Shinso's field of view, the purple haired menace couldn't help the word that came out of his mouth.

"Boo."

And just like that, they had eliminated a team and won their points.

Shinso laughed, a deep pleasure coursing through his veins as he clutched at what felt like pure ecstasy. He did all of that without using his quirk on the enemy.

"We're not done."

The elation quickly faded, and it morphed into a more honed and focused state of mind.

Nothing else mattered.

Just winning.

Shinso would worry about the rest after.

.

.

Keep it flowing, and victory will follow.

Ken was in his element.

There was no time to think.

Only instinct.

Only battle.

It made him feel good to rely on nothing but his own hands. Each movement practiced and easy, each push and pull of his muscles as gratifying as hearing the short bursts of pain from his opponents.

The stinging of his gums, the raging inferno in his chest, the weight on his shoulders, it was all lost to the short commands he barked out and the precise cuts designed to hurt and maim, but not kill.

Ken learned control.

He wouldn't let USJ happen again.

Ken fought for control.

He wouldn't lose it.

Lies were easy, fighting was easier.

I can do this.

Ken tried not to think about how he lost it moments before. He tried not to think about how close he had been to tearing someone apart for all the world to see.

He fought for it all, and Ken would do so until he died.

Keep the blood flowing.

Shinso now obeyed his every command, and because of it, they worked like a well oiled machine. Ken knew what the boy's quirk was, and he planned on using it on a team that would cause trouble for him otherwise.

With a few choice words, he could make another team's rider give them their headbands and force them to sabotage their own team.

It was best to save the surprise for later – before anyone realizes what Shinso could do. What Shinso did to him.

His blood boiled at the thought, but he quickly stifled the feeling, teeth clenched even tighter against each other.

Any more and he was sure they would crack.

Focus.

Ken stomped onwards to their next target, words not being to be spoken for such simple directions.

All that mattered was to keep the blood flowing.

.

.

The fight was lost in the heat of battle. Two more headbands – three in total – rested in Shinso's hands.

Ken recalled taking the headbands from primarily 1-B teams – two pairs and a trio. He didn't keep track of points, but Ken would play it safe. He made sure they couldn't follow them – not without risking even more injuries on themselves.

UA hadn't exactly told them their limits, neither had they tried stopping him. Though he could feel the fatigue creeping in in arms and legs, his lungs taking in deeper breaths than they had just minutes past.

Ken needed to be in perfect shape to make it past this round and the next one.

Which was why he finally planned to have Shinso use his quirk on another team. He set his sights on the team closest to him, which just happened to be 1-B's Kirishima – Tetsutetsu.

"Oy." Ken called out between lungfuls of air. "Can you keep one more under your control?"

"You want me to use my quirk on someone?" He could hear the eager tint in the gravelly voice he'd come to hate.

"Answer."

"You know we're in this together right?"

A flash of fury had him tighten his grip around Shinso's legs. He didn't have time to deal with attitude.

What makes you think you have a shot of winning without me?

Ken's blue eyes flickered to his bloodied ground and up to the four teams struggling to move and get their points back. Their pained cries and moans were lost in the wind to the powerhouses duking it out far from them.

This is me.

"I can." Shinso replied, his voice losing its edge.

Satisfied, Ken relaxed his grip. "Get ready."

Ken waited a second, soaking in one last breath before they were plunged into the fight once more. He closed his eyes, mind turning hazy yet focused as the sound of his heartbeat proved he was still alive and ready to fight.

Blue eyes snapped open. Ken's chest coiled with anticipation and his gut pooled with intoxicating heat. His legs pumped with adrenaline and exertion, the sensation like the high of a drug.

They were off like a speeding bullet.

This time, Ken didn't strike first. He didn't want to catch them off guard – they might not talk at all if he did. Though it's not as if Tetsutetsu's team had been paying attention to him at all.

But he would let Shinso use his quirk.

Under Ken's command.

Watching the shock on Tetsutetsu's face at their sudden appearance brought a visceral joy. A wall of vines was brought up to separate them, but Ken was faster. He swiped his hand across his vision, and tore apart the spined wall.

Shinso said something that ticked off the steel boy. And, as all idiots did in the middle of a fight, he made sure to quip back.

Their headband was soon in Shinso's hands, and Ken was sure his spot was secured for the next round.

(For a second, it was like he had seen a reflection of himself, practicing smiles in front of a mirror.)

"Keep him under until the round is over."

Shinso grunted his agreement and they were gone, leaving Tetsutetsu's team confused and pointless as they couldn't follow after with their rider out of commission.

Now all he had to do was to avoid taking a fight and wait until the match was over. Ken could be patient. Though his body yearned for action, he knew it would be better to play it safe if he wanted to win.

It didn't matter if he had to wait. The fighting would never be over.

The bloody honey cannot stop.

.

.

Izuku spit out the remains of his tasteless bile into a bin as Uraraka rubbed his back soothingly.

"You okay?"

He felt heat creep up his neck. "Y-yeah I'm fine! The whole thing was just a bunch of highs and lows you know what I mean?"

"Thank All Might for Tokoyami."

Izuku couldn't stop the small laugh that escaped his lip. She really was picking up on his slang.

While the fight really was a rollercoaster of emotions, and he did feel like puking for a good amount of it, the fight left him jittery and excited for the next round.

No, what really bothered him was something else. Someone else.

There were splashes of red along with the heavy scent of iron across parts of the field. It all reminded him of that one day, that one encounter that he was sure would never leave his mind.

It was quick, violent, bloody, fatal – not how a hero should fight.

He caught sight of some of the injuries Kitajima's quirk left behind, and while clean and precise – it was like he made sure it would hurt.

Kitajima didn't hold back at all and Izuku was sure he wasn't the only one to notice. Had the ten million points not been in play, Kitajima would have been in first place.

It was like he had suddenly jumped up the ranks of their class – not that there really were any. But Izuku knew USJ wasn't a fluke. He knew the boy was lying about something – vigilante or otherwise.

Izuku would find out. He had to.