Chapter 7

Decisive Battle - Hermit Purple Part 1

Kaminari groaned as he slowly emerged from his much-needed sleep. His back, arms—heck, everything hurt. Even blinking sent twinges of pain through him. Not that his brain had registered that yet. Where was he, anyway?

"Well, look who's finally awake. I wasn't even sure you'd manage that before the exams ended," an elderly voice chimed in. The speaker was a petite small old woman but adorned with a white coat and carrying a clipboard—clear indicators that she was probably the nurse.

Wait, did she say "exams"?

Suddenly, the memories rushed back like a water balloon exploding against his mind, leaving him emotionally drenched. Did he actually say all those things? And did he really wallop that ofmetal guy so hard his hands broke?

Glancing down, he was relieved not to see his fingers twisted at odd angles. But a dull ache emanated from them. A sigh of relief escaped him involuntarily, catching the nurse's attention and prompting her to follow his gaze to his hands. This earned him an irritated huff and glare.

"You were pretty lucky, sunny." No need for her to raise her voice; people generally didn't wake up in hospitals in the best mood—especially when their own recklessness put them there. She'd managed to get footage from the nurse bot and had seen his prior state before she patched him up. All those injuries? Self-inflicted.

Instantly, he straightened up, the tension returning as if he'd forgotten the nurse was there. "Any worse and I might not have been able to mend them back together," she added calmly, though it was a blatant lie. But just the color draining from the kid's face was enough of a sign that the message got across.

Good.

"Uhm…" Anxiously, he glanced around, hands resting on his lap, careful not to move them. "So, what now?" he inquired with curiosity and uncertainty.

"What now?" She sized him up. He was still sporting his sportswear, now a bit cleaner—thanks to the vacuum cleaner's best attempt at laundry. Bandages adorned his face, but overall, he looked mostly unscathed outwardly.

"Normally, if the injuries weren't as severe, you'd be on your way home." She gave him a look that made him wince. "In your case, you'll be sticking around until you're on the mend. You're currently in UA's nurse office." With that, she walked off, presumably to tend to other patients.

Denki let himself fall back onto the bed, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. He wished he could clench his fists, if only he knew whether it was safe to do so. Instead, he ground his teeth in frustration.

"Dammit…"

Manga wasn't exactly a poster child for violence. In fact, he was pretty much the opposite—a peace-loving guy. A lot of people could vouch for that. His quirk, while not designed for destruction, could still pack a punch if he smacked someone right into a wall with a perfectly timed " BAM" sound effect.

But seriously, that last jump from him? That was a level of pain he hadn't signed up for. Even now, he had no idea how he managed to hit himself with his own quirk mid-jump. His mom would've called it an impressive achievement, for sure. His dad? Well, he'd just chalk it up to him being a dumbass.

Not that his family's input really mattered at this point. Family dynamics wouldn't save him from the mess he was in right now. And that mess involved him getting relentlessly assaulted by a girl with vines for hair. Yeah, she was kind of hot, but she was also trying to tie him up like he was a gift-wrap tutorial.

And what was with her constant praying or chanting or whatever? It was getting on his last nerve. If she was gonna attack him with those vine things, the least she could do was look him in the eye while she did it. Not like he could show his discomfort—dude was still stuck running around like a damn monkey.

Was this some kind of hidden camera prank show? Well, yeah, there were hidden cameras, but not the kind he was thinking. He almost wanted to accept it—the new reality of his life, perpetually running, jumping, rolling, and dodging. The park area they were fighting on had turned into a freaking battleground, like a field that had decided to tip over. All it needed were some plants and grape vines everywhere.

Speaking of vines, how the heck did the vine-haired girl afford all those hair products with... well, that kind of hair? Or maybe she used garden products instead? Wait, did garden products even exist for hair? Man, this whole situation was straight-up bizarre.

The girl's side glare hit him like a ton of bricks, and it was as if she could smell the thoughts he hadn't even spoken out loud. Wait, did he really blurt out that whole hair products thing? Nah, that couldn't be right. He was a ninja at keeping quiet, a skill he'd honed during the thrilling years of middle school.

Oh, but then there was his... manga panel head.

Manga never quite mastered the art of keeping his thoughts hidden from that head of his that was essentially a living manga panel. It was like his panel head had its own mind. The doc claimed the head was somehow organic and not paper. It did feel organic enough, with all the touching he received from curious classmates.

Also according to the doc, that was where his brain lived. Well, after little 6-year-old Manga got his first phone and googled brain sizes and then compared it to his head size, he never quite trusted that doc again.

And then, a slight tug at his feet. Oh, shoot.

Swearing internally, he tried his best. Seriously, he was like the superhero of evading capture for the majority of the "battle". Too bad it counted for zilch at the moment.

In what felt like mere seconds, the girl's vines, under her tight control, had cocooned him, wrapping around everything except his head, which displayed a very unamused :(

Moral of the story? Trying to outmaneuver a girl with vine hair? Tougher than it sounds.

"See now that your struggles are in vain?" the girl, Ibara Shiozaki, asked coldly. For some reason, Manga's brain provided her name, and he couldn't help but feel that she was the one who was annoyed. He almost burst into laughter, so much so that his manga panel emoticon changed to a :

He was actively trying to silence himself, not wanting to worsen his already precarious situation. "Listen up, girl! My team's gonna show up any minute now, and then you're in for a world of hurt!" It was a complete lie, and he knew it. First off, they'd agreed on a plan, and secondly, he had no clue where the heck he was right now.

This park certainly didn't fit the standard definition. "Huge open-ass field" would've been a much more accurate name.

Much, much better.

Not that it mattered much right now, given that the girl remained impassive to his attempts at intimidation. Fine, if she wanted to play it cool, he could play the same game for hours.

Ten minutes later, he was thoroughly reconsidering his approach.

"Please, I'm sorry for calling you 'cactus face'! Please let me go!" he whined, feeling suspended in the air for far too long, especially for someone who didn't have a flying quirk. But the cactus-headed girl simply ignored the comment, much like the thousands of other comments she'd probably heard before.

"No," she replied with a simple, cold denial. That prompted Manga to whine even louder. He could still hear explosions and battle cries in the distance, too far for comfort. Sadly, he couldn't move his head since someone had a death grip on his neck.

If only those vines didn't have thorns, things might have been different. Stupid thorns. She already had strong vines; did they really need to be thorny as well?

"Alright, I give up. What the hell do you even want with me?" Manga finally resigned himself, realizing he'd lost track of just how long he'd been hanging in the air. Hopefully not too long; he didn't want his teammates to start a missing persons report. But who was he kidding? They probably thought he'd been gone for ages, and he was still stuck with this girl.

"I do not like to repeat myself very often," she began, matter-of-factly as if explaining something to a five-year-old, "but since you seem to have sincerely forgotten my request, I shall reiterate once more: I seek companionship."

Manga didn't quite grasp the implied insult in her words, so his emoticon just shifted to a /

"I already told you that I'm part of a team! And even if I wanted to leave, which I don't, I'd need my entire team to disband!" he shouted angrily at the stronger female. Meanwhile, Shiozaki absorbed this information with a touch of annoyance that she chose to ignore.

Several seconds of silence followed before Ibara's face morphed into a shocked expression. "Ah," she uttered.

"What's with that expression? Are you an idiot?!" Manga couldn't help but retort.

Manga's world suddenly plunged into darkness. "Wah! I can't see! I'm blind!" he screamed in sheer hysteria, struggling against his unseen captor. He felt himself being carried around like a piece of luggage.

Silence was his only response.

"Let me go! !" He shouted again, though it was invisible, his emoticon changing in anger. She continued to ignore him, focusing on her path. It wasn't until she slowly halted, another realization dawning on her.

"Where is your team located?" She asked, allowing his head to see the light of day again. Manga, gasping for air and taking deep breaths, turned his now angry gaze toward Ibara.

"Are you crazy?! I could hardly breathe!" Manga's words were far from the truth, and Ibara's patience with her future teammate was dwindling. "I would very much appreciate no further use of such sinful acts," she said, with a touch of prayer in her voice.

"Sinful? Sinful?! You're the one holding me hostage! Remind me who's the sinful one here!" He shouted, two of the same emoticons raging inside his head. Shiozaki recoiled in shock. "But I have been nothing but honest with you," she replied, her voice tinged with hurt and disbelief.

"What the hell is going on with you?!" He continued to struggle, wiggling his entire body in an attempt to escape her grasp. "I can't read you at all. First, you're some stone-cold diva, and the next second, you're a hurt little girl! Pick one and stick with it!" His voice reached octaves he didn't know he was capable of, and his volume was also a new record.

Another hurt expression crossed Ibara's face, and she tried her best to hold back tears. Manga was left stunned into silence before the vines engulfed his head once more, prompting him to thrash around again.

"Finally, someone who doesn't seem to be too hard," a new voice chimed in, causing Manga to temporarily halt his thrashing to listen. Ibara turned her attention toward the voice, only to find two figures standing several meters behind her.

One of them appeared rather ordinary, with brown hair and nothing particularly striking about his appearance. Well, except for that orange jacket and matching pants. What was that all about? The other figure, on the other hand, had a mutant quirk. Six arms, a peculiarly shaped head that contributed to a rather frightening image, and a mask covering his mouth up to his nose. His muscular build only added to the impression of a raging beast, but his intelligent gleaming eyes were a stark contrast to his appearance.

The plain boy lacked any headbands, while the mutant had one headband for each of his arms, neatly and tightly knotted.

"Tsuburaba, do not judge our opponent by their appearance," scolded the mutant, which seemed to make the other boy back down slightly. "Sheesh, it's alright Shoji. I didn't mean it like that!" the boy quickly defended himself against whatever claim Shoji had made.

Shoji nodded before turning his attention to Ibara. "I wish we could meet under different circumstances, but..." He glanced around at the chaotic scene with many aspiring students battling each other. "We sadly don't have that luxury."

Ibara knew exactly where this was going, and she was now completely focused on them.

"Whoa, hold your horses, girl," Tsuburaba, the brown-haired teen, gestured with his hands, palms outwards in a 'back away' motion. "We really don't have to fight. You can just give us your headband, and then we'll be on our way. Otherwise, my friend here has to take it away from you." He motioned toward Shoji, who looked rather displeased but remained silent.

Tsuburaba's expression briefly soured before he masked it with a smile. "So, what do you say? We win, you win, everybody wins without any violence!" He made a "Come on, take the deal" gesture, and Ibara was slightly impressed that he even knew what that was.

Her vines extended once more, slithering along the ground like hungry snakes. "I'm sorry," she said, although there was no hint of remorse in her voice. Her once moist eyes were now dry, and her tone was sharp and cold as a knife. "But I must disappoint you." Her hair began to lift, aiming toward the two of them. Each vine string resembled a predator ready to pounce on its prey.

"Too bad..." Tsuburaba sighed, but before Ibara could react, he exhaled loudly. It was her cue to unleash her attack, sending her vines hurtling toward them with full force.

I have a question, this writing style is a lot more casual as you probably expect from other fanfictions.

My question is; do you like this one more or would you rather I stick with my more formal writing style, see the previous chapter?

That was it anyway from me!

Cheers!