8- The Crucible
The mold was set. The steel is ready.
All it needs is heat.
.
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Fucking third?!
Explosions peppered and scalded his clenched fists.
Fuck!
It was one above Deku.
One above worthless.
"Blasty?" A whiny high pitched voice scratched at his ears. "You alright?"
"Fuck off!" Katsuki just barely resisted the urge to aim his explosions at the source of the annoyance.
"Woah, calm down bro."
"I said fuck off!" This time, hardened arms stopped him from wringing Racoon Eyes' neck.
"Relax man! We made it through!"
"Kacchan's probably mad he didn't win."
Katsuki jumped at the blonde fool, only to be restrained by a wall of rock and tape. Like a muzzled dog, he growled with as much hate and anger he could muster. He fucking hated being grabbed!
He didn't like how his throat felt pinched. He didn't like how he was sweating more than usual. Katsuki needed to win. He wasn't weak!
Eventually Katsuki fought his way out of the iron grip, snarling at his teammates who kept pestering him.
Katsuki would beat that dead-eyed piece of shit and that Half N Half bastard and show the world he was the indisputable best!
That blue haired creep wasn't shit! He knew there was something fishy about the fucker! Did he not think Katsuki was good enough to be taken seriously?
I'll fucking end him! Him and that Half N Half bastard!
He forced a deep breath into his lungs, letting the bickering of the idiots behind him to fall into background noise. Explosions crackled like gunfire as he felt his heartbeat slow down. He looked down at his sweaty and worn hands.
This is all I need. I can win. I will win.
Katsuki wouldn't ever lose to some extra!
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Ken was cornered by Aoyama and Ojiro not so soon after he'd split up with Shinso. They were not mindless puppets this time, however.
He could see their hesitation and uncertainty as clear as day by the way they carried themselves. Eyes that flickered away from his own, the twiddling of their fingers, the way they would shoot looks at each other before repeating the cycle.
Ken didn't care for it.
"What is it?" He started.
His words shocked Ojiro into action. The taller boy finally met him eye to eye.
"We… Aoyama and I were wondering…" Oijro sighed. "Did you know?"
Ken wasn't blind. He could see the betrayal and hurt in his eyes.
"Know what?"
And by the way Ojiro's brows were pinched tight, how his frown grew deeper… "We heard that you ordered him around. We saw… your quirk. Recovery Girl's office was full of everyone who was hit by it."
Ken knew he couldn't avoid it. It was a mandatory checkup, and the culprit for those slash wounds was quite obvious.
I'm not slipping.
"I didn't know what his quirk was – and he used it on us." He emphasized, quickly shooting out an answer before the other two could think. "And I don't know why he let go of his hold on me." He lied. "But I couldn't just lose the round by starting an infight between us." And he spoke the truth.
"It wasn't right." Aoyama spoke up, his distaste soaking his tone. "We didn't have a choice. You did."
Something in Ken burned. "What does it matter?" He almost yelled the words. "Whether you did anything or not – you made it."
"We could have worked together and earned a real victory! A real spot!–"
"It wasn't heroic." Ojiro cut in before Aoyama could get worked up any further. "It wasn't how a hero would fight. Isn't that what we're here for?"
Ken fell back on an easy card to play.
"Tell that to Shinso." Ken made sure to sound angry – but angry for someone he 'respected.' "He's the one working his ass off here to become a hero. The one who's using his quirk to the best of his abilities and showing his opponents the respect they deserve. Is that not heroic?"
The lie and disgust tainted his palette, but he pushed it out of his focus.
Ojiro grit his teeth, "Had he just asked us normally–"
"You would have said yes to some gen-ed student who you know nothing about?" Ken sighed. "Trust me. I was just as angry as you are right now. But we made it. Shinso is doing everything in his power to even stand on the same level as us. He wants to be a hero as bad as you." A silence followed his rant, but Ken saw the opportunity to plant a seed. "And besides… Now that you know how Shinso's quirk works… How could you lose to him?"
Ken hid what would have been a face splitting grin. He turned away from the duo, wanting time to himself after the entire debacle.
Whatever they wanted to do, he could at the very least make the most out of the situation.
Ken whispered his parting words just loud enough for them to catch it – but enough for it to seem like he spoke to only himself. "How could anyone?"
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"Hey boss." Tri-angle twirled around his custom made revolver as he balanced recklessly on a creaky wooden chair.
"Hm?" She stretched her sore arms and legs, pumping and full of fire after an intense workout.
"What's this prize you've got him chasing around?"
"Take a guess." She grinned, her teeth bared for all to see.
"Something to do with Yuka?"
"Nah." She waved off the answer.
"Huh." Tri-angle stopped twirling his revolver, and stopped rocking back and forth. "Color me curious."
"Well," She began, sporting a tone that had Tri-angle groaning. "Where is Ken, at this very moment?"
"At U.A."
"Right, U.A."
"And he doesn't like heroes."
"Mhm."
"He gets to leave?"
She sighed, "What a dull imagination you have."
"Well what else would be a prize?"
"He is going to compete for all the world to see – and most heroes watch for potential interns."
"I don't follow."
"No hero."
A second had passed. And a few more.
Then, as Tri-angle recalled the memory, he barked out a laugh. "He never did get his mark."
She grinned, "Ken has a long memory. It'll come to him in due time."
The pressure was on.
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Aizawa had always known the risks that came with teaching teenagers who had the ability to level a city or kill someone with a glance. They were walking disasters waiting to happen, and they were bound to keep him up for hours on end.
It wasn't something he really cared about – not truly at least.
But watching Kitajima Ken quite literally tear through his opponents with practiced ease left a bad taste in his mouth like no other. Aizawa had known something was… different about the boy. He definitely didn't pin it on the boy agreeing to therapy in a heartbeat.
It wasn't only how he behaved, and he knew without a doubt he wasn't the only one to notice how the boy was finally using his quirk on people. At least since USJ.
Not even between their quirked sparring sessions would he use his quirk on his classmates – it was almost like he avoided it completely. Aizawa could guess one of the reasons was it being far more violent and unsightly than anyone else's.
He had been holding back. But why show it all off now? Was it for fame? To be scouted? Why ruin his own chances by not giving it his all against his classmates?
Aizawa had known there was something… off about the boy since USJ.
Maybe he just didn't put enough effort into finding out what it was exactly.
Sighing, Aizawa failed to pinch the bridge of his nose with his bandages constricting his movement.
What kind of child could survive against a villain that almost killed him, endure broken ribs and avoid getting help for it normal at all? Aizawa needed to check in with Hound Dog. He needed to know whether or not Kitajima was fit for the hero course – at least until Aizawa understood what was happening behind those icy blue eyes.
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Ken wasn't an idiot – or more accurately, hero hopefuls weren't subtle.
Todoroki had an eye on him the entire time they awaited their matchups to be announced. If he thought his glare was unsettling, he was wrong.
Though, he was a little surprised when the teen approached Midoriya and not him. Ken was almost hurt. How the green bumbling idiot made it this far was beyond him.
The speech had gone in through one ear and out the other. He didn't care, and it didn't matter.
None of them really did.
Ken didn't know where his hesitation had gone, where his questions and logic had disappeared off to.
It was so much easier to stop thinking, and just fight.
I'm not slipping.
Deep in his brooding, he hadn't noticed the fluttering steps that approached him.
Ken felt his body tense up against the tap on his shoulder. It took everything in his will to not grab the pink wrist he caught sight of.
"Whatcha thinkin' about?"
Smile, "Nothing really." He didn't particularly feel like speaking. Not even if it was just Ashido.
"You went kinda wild last round." Ashido seated herself on an empty chair right next to him. Ken caught a glimpse of her strained smile.
It was one he'd seen far too often, for similar reasons, but on a different face.
A tiny fish bone settled deep into his throat, burning and hurting with each breath.
"Caught everyone off guard." Ken could hear the question in her voice – but he wasn't going to be confronted a second time. When he remained silent for a second too long, she carried on. "Especially Bakugo. Shoulda seen the look on his face when he realized he was third." She chuckled.
Easy. "I'd imagine he's out to kill me now." He forced another smile on his face.
"Todoroki's declaration made it a hell of a lot worse – why the fuck is Deku a bigger threat than me?!" She mimicked the blonde explosion's voice, and Ken played his part with a small huff of breath. "He's on a warpath."
"And you?"
Ashido shrugged, her eyes flashing with some bittersweet understanding. "I'm going to do my best."
It won't be enough, and she knows that.
Kenb nudged her knee with his own. "I guess that's all that really matters, huh? That you try."
Not if you can't get what you want.
"I hope so." Ashido sighed, "What about you? Got your eyes set on first?"
"I–" No words left his mouth. I do. I have my eyes set on first. "Yeah. Aiming for the top."
That's why I'm fighting. To win. Because I was told to.
Ken grinned, "Gonna have to show Todoroki up right?"
Ashido's eyes hardened like steel, "Don't hold back." Yet she still smiled at him.
"I won't."
"Good."
.
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Ken's eyes slowly went down the list of matchups, searching for his name amongst his potential combatants.
Midoriya vs Shinso
Todoroki vs Sero
Iida vs Hatsume
Aoyama vs Ashido
Yaoyorozu vs Tokoyami
Kirishima vs Ojiro
Uraraka vs Bakugo
And finally, Ken against Kaminari.
The first match was between two he could easily say he hated.
Ken was hoping Shinso would go up against anyone but Midoriya. Anyone could beat the gen-ed student so long as they didn't speak. It was unfortunate, but it wouldn't be a problem.
He just needed to focus on what was right in front of him. If it happened to be that he fought Midoriya, he wouldn't hold back at all.
As they all went towards the stands to wait for their own matches, Ken caught a glimpse of Ojiro speaking to Midorya in hushed tones right before the start of the first battle.
Some hero, he didn't bother hiding whatever expression pulled the skin on his face.
Their match didn't matter much at all, none would beat Todoroki.
Will I?
Ken shook his head as if dispelling the uncertainty of a loss. It wasn't losing he was worried about. It was winning. Ashido had reminded him of that – the whiplash from their conversation was jarring.
Ken didn't even know what his prize was. She hadn't told him anything. No promise of consequence, yet no insight into her plans.
What was her ploy? What did she want from him? What prize could rival All For One's interest in him? Why would he even be interested? It was like if it were a guarantee it would happen at all. What other reason was there for him to win?
Slowly, but surely, his thoughts reorganized themselves into something he could comprehend. Something that wasn't scattered like bits of sand along the wind.
The haze of battle blinded him from everything once more. The heat won over any rational thought he could have conjured. He knew the spotlight was on him, after the stunts he'd pulled last round there was no way nobody was looking at what he had to offer.
Ken wasn't stupid.
He wasn't.
Then why do I keep messing up? I knew what I was getting into– I knew what would happen if I really fought–
The air in his lungs stung on their way out. Sweat dribbled down the side of his head and back. The pain in his chest burned brighter with each second that passed – as if there were tiny needles in his blood that ripped and pulled at his nerves.
Why am I even fighting?
Somewhere deep in his mind, a box wrapped in chains whispered to him through the rusting metal,
It's the only thing you can do.
A bone-deep realization settled within him. It was heavy. It made each step towards the stands feel sluggish, and every sound he heard muffled – like everything was underwater. He could breathe, but with each one it made the churning in his gut worse – as if bile was rising in his throat. His vision turned white and he supported himself against a wall as his legs buckled underneath the weight.
It was like USJ all over again. Once more, he proved Yuka wrong. Over and over and over again– it was endless.
But there was something else that moved along the surface for a split second, something Ken refused to acknowledge.
Relief.
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Mina was worried.
Kitajima had been in a state of deep brooding for the entirety of the Sports Festival.
Mina knew it wasn't anything new, and that he did it every now and then when he thought no one was watching. It was sad. She couldn't stand it. It's why she glued herself to him whenever possible.
It was odd, how one day he would flinch and curl into himself at touch, and the next he would be fine. Like he was playing a character.
But then there were moments where she thought the real Kitajima really did shine through. It was always subtle, with just a hint of hesitation when he spoke. It was sweet, and she wanted more of that instead of, well… How he usually was.
Mina hoped she could be his friend. She wanted to know what was wrong.
Why did he lie?
It really was just him in training… And she could always just chalk it up to him wanting to keep things as hidden as possible to win the Sports Festival…
Mina wouldn't particularly care if that was all she believed he was doing. She couldn't understand the same drive people like Bakugo had for victory, but she respected it. But Kitajima wasn't like Bakugo.
It was always sudden with him. It could be him smiling, enjoying a meal or painting the field with pungent crimson. It caught her off guard every time.
Mina had caught a glimpse of him when he was fighting – and for a second, it was like it wasn't Kitajima. At least the one she knew. He seemed more… distant, but also far more present than he ever was. She couldn't ever ask him, and maybe she should push the issue just a little more…
Maybe she was just overthinking things…
Mina watched along with the rest of 1-A, their blood still pumping from Todoroki and Sero's as the crowds roared for another fight, as both her friends walked into the spotlight.
Kaminari waved and cheered like the goofball he was as he savored the attention of the crowds.
Kitajima seemed to be the polar opposite, his light blue bangs casting a shadow over his face, and his focus seemingly on the ground.
"Who do you think is gonna win?" Kirishima appeared from her right, smiling his golden retriever-like smile as usual.
"I'm betting on Kaminari. Lightning is faster than wind." Sero answered before she could, appearing to be huddled in a pile of blankets as he continued to rub his arms.
"If it is wind." Kirishima countered. "Not like he ever told us."
Mina grimaced, but spoke before it was apparent. "We all know what Kaminari's plan is."
"Immediate discharge." Sero wiggled his eyebrows.
Kirishima snorted.
Mina rolled her eyes and grinned, "Well, if either of them win, that's one more point for the Bakusquad now isn't that right Blasty?!" She quickly spun on her seat towards the brooding blonde, sat away in a corner in an attempt to rid himself of their banter and noise.
"Fuck off!" He snarled and puffed like a pomeranian.
"Oh look at him, he's so cute!" She cooed.
"Eat shit and die!"
Mina laughed as Bakugo turned red, "Terms of endearment."
"Oh it's starting!" Kirishima thankfully interjected before Bakugo could bite her head off.
"I'm bettin' on Kaminari." Sero whispered loud enough for them to hear.
Kirishima nodded, "Same here."
Mina chose silence, and ignored the glance from Kirishima.
"WITH THE ARENA ALL THAWED OUT, IT'S TIME FOR THE NEXT MATCH!"
Thankfully Present Mic's booming voice (and Bakugo's) was something 1-A was already used to, so she didn't have to bother covering her ears.
"IT'S TWO OF CLASS A'S STUDENTS WITH A TALENT FOR SHOCK AND AWE! THE SPARKING, KILLING BOY, KAMINARI DENKI! AND THE DARK HORSE WHO SURPRISED US ALL WITH HIS DISPLAY OF SKILL IN THE BATTLEFIELD, KITAJIMA KEN!"
Her ears erupted with the cheers of her classmates as he joined in, unable to hear herself amongst the roars.
"START!"
As predicted, Kaminari shined bright with yellow streaks of lightning that danced around him and lashed out in unpredictable intervals. It would stop anyone from getting close, but that was only the start.
Everyone in 1-A knew this was going to be a fight as short as Todoroki's and Sero's (no insult to Sero, of course).
Mina caught sight of it even from afar, the step forward from Kitajima–
BZZZZZZZZTT!
The characteristic sound of Kaminari's lightning was both deafening and blinding, and it was gone in a split second.
But there was something else that replaced the silence.
Kaminari was down on his knees groaning and clutching at a wound she couldn't see but the pool of blood forming on the cement beneath him.
"What?!–" Confused gasps filled 1-A's stand.
It wasn't only Kaminari that was hurt.
Kitajima was also on the ground, his uniform smoldering and his body convulsing and twitching as he struggled to stay on all fours.
"IN THE BLINK OF AN EYE BOTH OF OUR CONTESTANTS ARE DOWN! BUT IT ISN'T OVER JUST YET!"
Both Kaminari and Kitajima were moving.
"WHO WILL GET UP FIRST? WHO WILL REMAIN THE LAST ONE TO STAND?!"
"Damn, I thought that was it!" Sero leaned on the railings after escaping the confines of his blankets. "Kaminari looks real hurt though."
"So does Kitajima." Mina said, her eyes glued to the blue haired boy.
"Kaminari is bleeding really bad. I don't think he'll get up." Kirishima replied with a dark look on his face.
"Dunce Face is better off stayin' down."
Mina about-faced towards Bakugo, her brows furrowed and her mouth twisted into a frown. "Are you saying he should just give up?"
Bakugo scoffed, "You'll miss the end, Racoon Eyes."
"IT LOOKS LIKE KITAJIMA HAS GOTTEN UP FIRST! OH! BUT IT SEEMS LIKE KAMINARI STILL HAS SOME SPARK LEFT IN HIM!"
Kaminari didn't move from his spot, but he began charging up his quirk. Mina could tell it was Kaminari's last move when he saw Kitajima limping on one foot towards him, yet he still remained on his knees with a defiant grin plastered onto his face.
It was his last stand, and she knew he would at least try to make it look flashy.
But then she spotted Kitajima's lips moving on the screens above. He was speaking to him. It wasn't just a word or two.
The lightning died down. Kaminari's eyes were wide open, his mouth agape for all to see.
What did he say?
Then, there was emotion present that Mina would never miss on Kaminari's face – it was something he'd never truly expressed, but clearly palpable. He was angry.
CRACKLE!
It was bright!–
Mina felt fear for both of them as the hairs on her arms prickled–
Then it was over.
This time, Mina could see the bloody streak that ran from Kaminari's shoulder down his arm. She watched as he struggled to stay even on just his knees, how his arms buckled under the pain, how he swayed from one to the other. His struggle was fruitless, and he fell face first into the cement.
Kitajima was unharmed – at least from their second joust. A patch of his uniform was burnt straight along with dark patches that ran along his right side. His right arm seemed red and loose along his torso.
Mina's heart pumped loud and hard against her ribcage. The sound had almost deafened Present Mic's booming voice announcing the winner, but she was brought back to reality by Sero and the rest of her friends.
"Kaminari… he's… he–" Sero looked pale at the sight of their injured friend. "It looked worse than the cavalry battle." He kept looking back and forth from the monitors to the ends of the arena, as if hoping someone would go down to help their blonde friend.
"Did anyone else see that?" Kirishima's fists were clenched tight at his sides, his brows furrowed and his distress clear as day.
"See what?" She questioned.
"He said something that made him angry. Like he was goading him to do something stupid."
"You don't know that." Mina frowned, but some part of her felt there was some truth in what he said.
"Fucker's been lookin' down on us this whole time." She whipped around her head to Bakugo.
Mina didn't like the mood that settled on their group like a heavy and impenetrable smog. "He wouldn't–"
"Fuck that! You don't know shit about him!"
"And do you?" She challenged, her anger getting the better of her.
Bakugo snarled, rising from his seat with his palms facing upwards, "I can smell bullshit from a mile away!" Tiny sparks danced along his palm.
"Hey! Hey! That's enough!" Kirishima stood between the two, only for Mina to realize that their little argument had caught the attention of the rest of 1-A's clusters of friend groups. "Save it for later." The red-head pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm going to go to RG's office to check up with Kaminari. You guys coming?"
Sero immediately stood from his spot, and Mina followed suit, leaving behind a grumbling Bakugo and a confused and worried 1-A.
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Mina had just caught sight of Kitajima disappearing around the corner in a hurry as they reached Recovery Girl's office. She didn't have the time to think about it when Kirishima held the door open for her.
Almost instantly they heard the characteristic mix of anger and annoyance of RG as she grumbled something about 'excessive force' and stalked about with her cane. Mina would have joked about it any other time, but not when she caught sight of an assistant carrying away a set of bloodied clothes.
"Recovery Girl? Can we come in?" Sero tiptoed towards the old woman, as if worried he might set her off.
Her eyes snapped towards the trio with an obvious huff of annoyance when she spoke, "Have you forgotten how to knock?"
"S-sorry about that." Kirishima rubbed the back of his head as he smiled with as much propriety he could muster.
Recovery Girl sighed. "Don't be loud."
The three were as quiet as the Bakusquad could have been as they marched their way towards Kaminari. Mina couldn't deny the spike of fear that she felt in her heart when she saw the pile of stained cloth. It felt different when it was someone she knew… Sometimes people's quirks were just dangerous– like what Thirteen had told them at USJ. Still… it stirred up a nauseating feeling in her gut when she thought about it.
Her quirk was dangerous, but not as dangerous as Kitajima's – Mina understood that much.
Even if they both practiced control, one was bound to do more damage than the other.
Kitajima couldn't fight quirkless now could he? Not against people like Bakugo – or even Kaminari. He had to use it somehow. Maybe that's why he didn't use it in training? Was it just too dangerous? Save it for when he needed to use it?
Mina's inner ramblings were interrupted when the curtains were pulled back slowly by Kirishima to reveal a distressed Kaminari. She gasped when she caught sight of the bandages wrapped around his chest and arms, and even his nose and cheek.
Kaminari broke the silence with a small smile, "Yo."
"You alright bro?"
Kaminari waved off his worry. "Yeah, I am."
The four of them broke into light chatter about the matches that would be coming up – almost as if they were ignoring the questions they all had stuck in their heads.
At least until Kitajima was brought up. Kaminari grimaced, and it went noticed by everyone.
The blonde spoke up, "He told me to give up" He paused, fiddling with his sheets in one hand. "Said I didn't stand a chance. That he would be faster next time." Kaminari interrupted Mina from speaking up, his fists bundling up the cloth. "It– it wasn't like Bakugo you know? It felt like he really did think I was lesser. I– I mean I haven't talked to him, I might just be overthinking it."
The air was tense, but as usual, Kirishima steered the conversation away to something more approachable.
The words stuck with her though.
She had a long memory.
