Chapter 15
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
"HELLOOOOOO LISTENERS!" Present Mic's voice echoed in the stadium from the announcer's box high above the stands. Toshinori sat in a private box near the top of the stands to avoid being seen in his natural state. He appreciated the large screen projecting close-ups of the stage around the top of the auditorium – it felt a bit like a concert, but there was no way he would have been able to see the first-years from this distance otherwise.
"It's that highly-anticipated battle of baby titans – a battle royal where our fledgling heroes can show off the skills and experiences they've gained each year. And here comes the class with perhaps the most experience of all the first-years. Having faced overwhelming odds and overcome their enemies thanks to their quick minds and courageous hearts, it's Hero Course, class 1-A!
Toshinori could just barely spot a forest-green head of hair among the class trickling out onto the stadium floor. He couldn't help but smile at the hesitant way his students looked around themselves at all the cheering fans – many of whom had come out specifically to see this class, instead of heading to the typically more popular second or third-year tournaments. It was a nice reminder that despite being so capable, these students were still just first-years; they'd yet to experience an actual patrol, or a press conference, or be recognized in public for their work as heroes. I wonder how they'll handle the attention after this tournament, he pondered with a chuckle.
"And although this class has yet to have its trial-by-fire, they aren't backing down! The talented and hard-working Hero Course, class 1-B!" The members of 1-B spent less time looking around in awe and seemed to be talking quietly to each other as they entered the stadium. They stood slightly apart from class 1-A, and All Might wondered if Vlad King had been stoking the flames of rivalry between his class and Aizawa's again. The man never ceased his complaints about the way students were divided between class 1-A and 1-B, and Aizawa's stoic responses only seemed to incite him more.
"Next up we have the General Studies classes C, D, and E!" Present Mic's voice rose and fell dramatically as he announced each class, giving a sense of dynamism to a simple introduction. He really is very good, Toshinori thought admiringly. "Support Course, classes F, G, and H are here too! And Business Course classes I, J, and K! All the UA first years!" The audience applauded politely, but thanks to the size of the crowd it still shook the floor of the booth Toshinori sat in. It filled him with nostalgia from his own days as a student.
As Present Mic announced Midnight as the chief umpire of the first-year matches, All Might found his mind wandering back to Young Midoriya and his request for the boy to make an impression on the audience during this tournament. Anxiety made his throat tickle, and he resisted the urge to cough, not wanting to get blood on his suit before going on live TV. Will he be able to do it?
"Representing the students is Bakugou Katsuki from class 1-A!" Midnight announced with a flourish, and All Might's attention snapped back to the present. Young Bakugou? He thought, a strange feeling rising in his chest. He had… mixed feelings about his successor's childhood friend. He blamed it on the aftermath of the USJ incident, and his realisation that Bakugou was responsible for the damage to the villain's eyes.
It was self-defense, or perhaps it was motivated by the desire to defend a classmate, as the villain
had been aiming for young Asui, so he had looked at Bakugou expecting the boy to be showing signs of shock, or denial, or even just fear. Instead, the look in the boy's red eyes just said that he wished he could go over there and finish the job. Toshinori hadn't been able to forget that look since.
Perhaps it was good to remember that this boy had placed first on the entrance exam – scoring highly enough on both the written and practical portions that his final score landed among the top ten highest on record. The boy was gifted, driven, and highly skilled. Perhaps his reaction to what happened at the USJ was just a manifestation of that passion in a situation he was not prepared for.
"The UA sports festival is a pretty big deal, from what I hear." Young Bakugou started off dryly. There were chuckles from the audience, a polite laugh or two. "Our teachers tell us that this is our chance to make an impression – our hero debut, if you will, where we can try to catch the eye of agencies and sponsors who might offer us internships, or remember us when it's time to submit applications later on. It's our chance to make you see us, so I'd like to speak to those of you in the audience today looking for talent. For power, or skill, or style." He paused to send a sweeping glance over the crowds, and Toshinori was absently impressed by the student's public speaking skills. The whole stadium stayed quiet for that pause.
"1-A is not the only class to watch here today." He said, and Toshinori was pleasantly surprised by the gesture. It seemed… uncharacteristically modest of Young Bakugou. You're judging him too harshly, he scolded himself. But then… "I know the representation at this school is skewed and the system is biased towards those with front-liner quirks (and don't think I haven't noticed that the school prioritizes producing flashy, high-earning alumni over well-rounded but lower-paid alumni, Nezu – I'm onto you), but that shouldn't keep you all from looking for all kinds of potential here today." Toshinori smothered a shocked cough at the slight against the principal, but Bakugou bulldozed on.
"You have the chance to pick up the slack where our teachers cannot, to reach out not just to the students who already shine but to those who need your guidance to flourish." On the large screens, Toshinori could see Young Bakugou's expression in perfect detail. His face was relaxed, almost sarcastic, but his eyes were fever-bright. It sent a strange chill down his spine. "Education should not be about survival of the fittest, but about lifting up those who began at a disadvantage and have not had the privilege and resources that the more 'promising' students have had." The boy's words echoed against the stadium walls, and the next several seconds were filled with a shocked silence.
It felt like the crowd held its breath as Bakugou lifted one hand in a limp fist pump. "So, who's ready to exploit high school students for fun and profit?" He drawled, "I know I am. Plus Ultra, amirite?"
As Midnight attempted to transition into her explanation of the first challenge, Bakugou strolled off stage with his hands in his pockets, looking as bored as ever, and Toshinori could't help the niggling worry in the back of his mind. Young Midoriya saw so much good in his friend, but that violence, and the fearless renouncement of major heroic institutions…
I hope you're right, Young Midoriya, Toshinori though with a sigh, pulling out his phone to send an email, Because if your faith is misplaced, I'm afraid your friend may end up fighting against the very system you wish so much to uphold.
Nezu took a moment to check his phone while the third-year representative recited the school pledge enthusiastically. Six text messages and one email from All Might. How old fashioned, he chuckled. He skimmed the texts and emails and couldn't stop a grin from spreading across his
face. He clapped delightedly just a bit before the audience started applauding the student representative, so only his fellow proctor noticed.
"What's up, Nezu?" Snipe asked mildly. The laugh that bubbled up from Nezu's throat had him straightening up nervously.
"We're going to have to start putting restrictions on what our student representatives can say on stage!" He chortled, "How wonderful!"
His good mood carried him through the next round of announcements before the first challenge.
If Hizashi didn't insist on enforcing Bakugou's "stay in the chair and rest" rule, Aizawa would already be down there getting ready to chew Bakugou out for accusing the principal of accepting bribes on live television. That kid was going to get the school shut down before he graduated – and what did he think would happen then? If he discredited UA, his studies here would be worthless, as would all of his classmates, and then their dreams of becoming heroes would be ruined.
"Bakugou-kun is in your homeroom, right?" Hizashi asked conversationally, taking this chance to get a drink and rest his voice while Midnight ran the show. "How is he, as a student?"
"A pain in the neck." Aizawa said immediately. Hizashi laughed, but he insisted. "No, seriously. The kid is brilliant but he has no respect for authority and never pays attention in class."
"Really?" Hizashi shot his friend a surprised look. "I got the impression he was a rather serious student."
"That's the thing." Aizawa could feel the frustration he'd been repressing rising up at the chance to vent to his oldest friend. "He is a serious student – you can tell he takes the time to really study the texts and resources we hand out, and he's never missed a problem on anything that can be found in the textbook, but during class he hardly ever takes notes, and he just lets his attention wander. I would think he had an attention problem if I hadn't seen him easily focusing on studying his textbook during free period." He huffed. "It's not like he's the only one who spaces out during lectures – half the class does. But it's frustrating to see him do it because I know he could be top of his class if he would just focus. The only questions he misses are the ones that contain lecture-only information."
"Lecture-only, huh?" Hizashi echoes softly, looking down at the crowd of students reacting comically to the reveal of an enormous obstacle course that the staff had prepared earlier this week. "But he always seems to remember my lectures, whether he writes them down or not…"
The day after he had the displeasure of meeting Bakugou Katsuki, Hitoshi opened his shoe locker to find a printout of a web MD article about the health risks of chronic insomnia. He stared at it for a moment before taking his shoes and shutting the locker without touching the article.
The next day there were two articles, and a lavender-scented sleep mask.
The day after that, a list of foods that help promote melatonin production.
The day before the sport's festival Shinsou saw a group of his classmates clustered around his locker and felt a mixture of dread and resignation wash over his body. They stepped aside, falling silent when they saw him, and he approached his shoe locker to find a whole-ass teddy bear taped
to his name plate. It was periwinkle, the same color as his hair, and he felt a tick develop in his eye at the little envelope taped to its hands.
Get some fucking sleep the note inside read, and it looked like it had been written by someone who was trying to tear a hole in the paper from the force of their pencil. Is this… harassment? He wondered. But the sound of his classmates whispering asinine theories about a secret admirer had him grinding his teeth and crushing the note in his fist. Bakugou Katsuki, he vowed silently, is a dead man stomping.
Hearing his new nemesis' name called as their student representative felt like being told that Bill Gates would be speaking on behalf of the lower-middle class. He waited for the arrogance he had seen outside that classroom to rear its head, for some declaration of superiority or trite Plus Ultra propaganda and… he was surprised.
Not pleasantly, but still surprised. Who knew Bakugou Katsuki had a grudge against the principal? And what a way to air your grievances.
As the other boy walked off the stage, their eyes met for a brief second, and Hitoshi blinked in surprise at the considering look he received. You're a threat, that look said, and I'm watching you. It was a look he was used to getting from his classmates and teachers as soon as they learned of his quirk, and he wasn't sure why it stung to see it now, on the face of someone he had already accepted as actively malicious.
I'll show you, he thought, glaring back viciously. I'll show you all what kind of threat I am.
The first challenge is a fucking mess. I have a vivid touch-memory of Whoever I was being crushed in the center of a Black Friday mob in a desperate attempt to buy some video game console, and I'm distracted enough by the fact that my past life was both a Hick and a Nerd that I almost get caught in the crush of bodies through the narrow opening. But then I remember that I can literally fly and all it takes is a few small explosions to get the people around me to give me enough room to take off and move ahead.
People die from being trampled in crowds like this, I look down at the students jostling for position below me. Does UA rely on Recovery Girl to fix all the debilitating injuries their school activities cause? What did they do before her? She's pretty old too. How long before she retires?
I don't even stop to fight the robots, since this is a race and I can fucking fly. I land behind them and run on my own two feet until I reach the man-made ravine with its maze of pillars and ropes to cross. IcyHot is already across and the icy path he made to cross is already melting. That quirk is such bullshit, I fume. How the fuck can he control the texture of his ice enough to run on it when everyone else would slip? That's NOT Half-Hot Half-Cold.
I cross the canyon in three nitroglycerin-powered leaps. It's times like this I wish I was able to convert my glycerin sweat into nitroglycerin in places other than my palms. Without my costume, my wrists don't have the reinforcement they need to handle my stronger moves. I'm limited. Unlike fucking Two Face over there, I think sourly. Who can just casually warm himself up to overcome his only goddamn limitation in a pinch.
Todoroki looks back at me as he reaches the minefield and very clearly makes the decision to just ice his way across it in order to keep me from overtaking him. It's such an obvious fuck you that I can't help but snort. He really is unflinchingly bitchy. I can respect that.
Still, I kick a rock onto a nearby mine and watch inquisitively as it detonates. Non-lethal explosives, I note. My bare hands are more dangerous than this entire trap. A little shiver of something that I would call excitement and my mother would probably call reckless hellion energy runs up my spine as several students catch up and start making their way carefully through the mine field. Just for fun, I wait until a few of them are right at the start before I bolt forward with a whoop, bracing my legs the way I do for an explosion-assisted jump.
There are several shouts of protest as the mines under my feet go off. The jolt makes my ankles twinge, but three bunny-hopes later I've caught up with the tail of IcyHot's ice trail and I can switch over to skating along the surface using small explosions to propel me forward. Goddamn I love being resistant to minor concussive force.
Todoroki looks at me like I'm something stuck to the bottom of his shoe when I catch up to him. I wink at him, feeling playful the way I only ever feel when they put us on the field and let us run lose, and he almost slips on his own ice in shock.
"Fancy meeting you here." I tease. He starts raising the ice in places in an attempt to trip me. Who taught this kid manners?
The sound of an explosion significantly larger than the others has us both glancing over our shoulders (and Todoroki predictably raises another block of ice in front of my ankles the minute I look away, the asshole) to see a green blur flying out of a cloud of pink smoke near the beginning of the mine field. He leaves a trail of lingering smoke for the first portion of his arc and a distant part of my brain perks up and sings projectile motion is naturally parabolic! Like some nerdy teacher's pet.
The rest of me is busy calculating the arc of that parabola to figure out where the hell Izuku is going to land, because the large chunk of sheet metal he is gripping desperately is not going to do anything to soften his landing, and the slow forward tilt means he's going to land on his head unless he pulls the same maneuver Whoever I Was remembers being thrilled by when it was just a story.
I take to the air again to push ahead, prompting Freezer Burn to speed up to keep from falling behind. When we get close to the expected impact point, I tilt my head back and grin ferally when I meet determined green eyes.
"Better you than Red, White, and Rude here!" I yell, and touch down next to IcyHot as Izuku barrels down on us. The look in our classmate's mismatched eyes pulls a laugh from deep in my belly but it's drowned out by Izuku's barbarian yawp as he uses our shoulders as a spring board and slams the scrap metal into the ground in front of us. I use a quick explosion to make sure the scrap metal is sent flying away from any nearby children, but otherwise just continue laughing as Todoroki redoubles his efforts to catch up with Izuku. The next closest competitor is significantly behind us, and I don't care as much about winning this leg of the competition as I do about getting to the final round where I'll have a chance to really let off some steam.
Third place doesn't sting at all, although second really seems to be making Todoroki steam (literally, he's got steam rolling off his right side as he defrosts) judging by the glare he's giving Izuku. Izuku, who… seems to be having a sort of religious epiphany some thirteen feet away from the rest of us as he stares up at the cheering crowd in awe.
I avoid both of them and take this opportunity to examine the crowd. I've been wondering what kind of people come to an event like this. What does the modern-day equivalent of someone watching an ancient Roman gladiator battle look like? Mostly like families chattering excitedly. The ones who can afford the best seats tend to interact with those around them, as if making sure
other people have noticed their position of privilege. Meanwhile, those in the nosebleed seats are more insular, leaning in towards their friends or family members and not looking around to socialize much at all.
Scattered among the better seats, the heroes and hero-scouts are easy to spot by the way they observe the children in the arena with an expression caught between greed and faint distaste. It must be hard to balance a sense of physical and moral superiority with your desire to see children beat the tar out of each other, I muse.
"Deku-kun! That was amazing!" Gravity Witch's voice is uncomfortably close to me, and I turn to glare at Izuku for having (possibly unconsciously, but intent has never factored into my irritation before, so why start now?) wandered closer to me while I was people-watching. He doesn't notice, too distracted by the greatest challenge of his young life so far: accepting a compliment from a female.
Idiots, I despair, watching Gravity Witch hype Izuku up while he silently combusts. God their children are going to be so fucking dumb. Is it too much to hope all the damage his quirk does to his body might render him sterile and spare us from our fate?
I'm pondering non-invasive methods of sterilizing my childhood friend when Midnight takes the stage again to the sound of Present Mic's excited babbling. Her Cat-o-nine-tails makes a distinct crack when she snaps it that has us all falling silent on Pavlovian reflex. I sigh.
She lists off all the winners, and I'm impressed to note that Lilac Insomnia over there is pretty well in the middle of the pack. He's also glaring at me from across the room, and probably has been for some time if the fury in his eyes is any indication. I maintain eye contact and casually stick my pinky in my ear to pick some earwax and flick it away carelessly. The combination of offense and disgust on Eyebags' face is almost enough to make me smile. But that would be giving away the game, so instead I just pretend to look around and start listening to Midnight prattle on about the second challenge.
"-can form teams of two to four people as they wish." Midnight is saying. "It's basically the same as a regular cavalry battle, but the one thing that's different is based on the results of the last game, each person has been assigned a point value." I press my lips together to hold my laughter in at Izuku's reaction to the reveal that he's worth 10 million points. He looks like he's just been diagnosed as quirkless all over again. What a drama queen. "In other words, if you take down the first-place player's team you can stand at the top no matter what place you're in!"
I have to cover my mouth and turn away, coughing to cover up my snorts when Izuku lets out a little "meep" after everyone's eyes zero-in on him at that announcement. He's so obvious.
"Now then, I will explain the rules of the cavalry battle. The time limit is fifteen minutes. Each team is worth the total of its members' points, and the riders will wear a headband with that number on their foreheads. Teams will try to grab each other's headbands until time runs out, and try to keep as many points as they can. Stolen headbands must be worn from the neck up. So the more you steal, the harder it'll be to manage them. And the most important thing is, even if your headband gets stolen, or if your team falls, you're not out!"
What, seriously? I blink, as she continues.
"- you'll get a red card for attacks that are trying to make people fall on purpose! You'll be removed immediately! Now, you have fifteen minutes to build your teams!" A timer appears on the jumbo screen, but I'm too busy pondering the obvious loophole here to pay it much mind. If that was allowed, surely people would take advantage of it, right? Maybe it's implied? But if they
don't actually say it in the rules, then it's not against the rules… Hmm. Maybe it's a hero thing? Like they think they can't exploit loopholes or it'd be dishonorable? Amateurs.
I look around and take in the crowd of students eyeing each other up, searching at about knee-level until I spot a familiar head of disturbingly bouncy purple orbs.
"Hey, you." I call, reaching out to grab the little grape-haired cretin by the back of his shirt. "Join my team." There's a sudden hush among the nearby students as the pint-sized pervert stares at me silently and I wait impatiently for his response. "Well?" I prompt.
"Will you kill me if I refuse?" He asks nervously. I blink at him slowly, and set him back down on his feet. He looks ready to bolt. I resist the urge to groan.
"If I didn't think consent was important, I wouldn't get on your case about how you treat women, now would I?" I cross my arms and lean my weight on one foot, waiting for him to process this. He looks… thoughtful. If you can call a mixture of realization and discomfort thoughtful.
"Then… no. I refuse." He says, sounding like he's steeling himself for a blow. I blink at him, genuinely surprised to be turned down, but I guess it was bound to happen eventually. Honestly 15 years is a pretty long fucking time to go without rejection. Before I can fully formulate a response, Sticky Balls Boy has decided that discretion is the better part of valor and ducked into the crowd to get away from me.
"Huh." I say, taking in this new development and the new flavor of anger that rejection triggers. Why have more than one emotion when you can just get really good at the one? I think dryly, idly jealous of Whoever I Was for her lack of temper.
"Bakugou!" I turn to see obnoxious red hair staring down at me, wondering why it thinks I would deign to speak with it. "Be on my team! You'll want to be the rider, right? So, you'll need a strong horse who can weather your worst explosions." He pats his chest with a fist and gives me a toothy grin. His red fingernails gleam. I quietly mourn the fact that my own nails are chipped to hell from using my quirk during the first challenge.
"Hard pass." I say, when I realize he's waiting for a response. "Go work with Deku or something."
"I don't think even my quirk could handle those punches of his…" Eyesore laughs bashfully. I scoff at the implication that a nitroglycerin explosion to the skull would be less dangerous than a super-powered punch. Excuse you, other-Bakugou could kick Izuku's ass even after he got better with his quirk, so you'd be fine.
Then again, that was with like 5% of his power, and at this point, Izuku's quirk might as well be called All-or-Nothing… So maybe Eyesore had a point.
"Come on, Bakugou!" Mina chimes in, "It'll be fun – we can be team manicure!" I ignore that, idly scanning the crowd around me.
"Hey, you." I call. "Elbows." Tape Arms points at himself and blinks uncertainly, as if I might be talking to the other person with a very obvious elbow-related quirk. I roll my eyes. "Get over here." I order, "And tell me how adhesive that tape is."
"Hell yeah, Sero, come join the Bakusquad!" Mina cheers, and I silently vow to never interact with these people again once this festival is over.
"I will allow you two to join this team if you never call it that again." I bargain. Mina grins as if this was her plan all along, which is bullshit. Kirishima cheers obnoxiously from behind me. Sero
just meanders closer, still looking confused.
"Why me?" He asks, and I feel my face split into an expression that is more a baring of teeth than a smile.
"You," I tell him gleefully, "Are going to help me show UA that neglecting potential loopholes out of faith in their students' heroic virtue is a bad idea."
Chapter End Notes
The rest of the UA students: what the hell, what is he doing? Midoriya, endlessly supportive: his BEST.
A large part of the recent delay between chapters was because I looked at all my notes of potential directions this fic could take and realized that Bakugou dies in like all of them. Oops.
Did I come back because I figured out a way to keep him alive or because I just decided to accept the consequences of my actions? You'll have to wait and see.
Chapter 16
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
"Okay scrubs, listen up." I lower my voice and watch the three stooges lean in closer. "The top 42 finishers from the first trial moved on to the cavalry battle, with places 42 through 2 being a series of consecutive points values, multiplied by five, so a quick sum of those values would give…" I make a face. I hate mental math. "3690 points, ignoring the obvious red herring of the 10 million points. Izuku's teammates are worth…" I glance at the screen, where the students' point values are still displayed in a list. "135, 180, and 10 points, which leaves 3365 points up for grabs among the other team's headbands."
"At least one team will pass with a minimum of the 10-million-point headband, so ignoring that team, we have three spots open." I look around to make sure they're following. They look a bit dazed, but no one asks any questions, so they're probably fine for now. "To guarantee a spot in the top three, at least a third of the remaining points need to be captured and kept until the end of the trial. A third of 3,365 is… ugh, fractions. Around 1120 and change. So at least 1125, going by the fact that all the points values are in increments of 5. We have…" Another glance at the screen. "665 points between the four of us. Which leaves 460 points that we need to gather if you guys are determined to get to the third round."
That gets some responses. They cheer, as if I've given them some sort of pep talk. I don't think they realize I was actually asking them a question, but either way it got answered. Stupid kids so eager to participate in school-mandated blood sport, I think, morbidly amused. Whatever. I can't talk. The chance to go all out is doing wonders for my blood pressure.
"Right, well. With Elbows' here, we won't need to worry about guarding our headband." I bare my teeth at him, and he points at himself coyly, like he's not sure what I mean. "How strong would you say your quirk is?"
"Uhhh." He hedges. "I haven't like, brought it to a lab to test its strength or anything like that." He eyes me nervously, and I have to give him credit for realizing that is exactly what I would have done in his place. (For instance, the nitroglycerin produced by my body is actually slightly diluted by other materials, which allows it to remain stable longer than pure, uncut nitroglycerin ever could. Still, the percentage of nitroglycerin in the substance I sweat out is significantly higher than any grade of dynamite would allow, so a palm-full of my quirk can produce a force equivalent to up to two sticks of dynamite, although my wrists can only handle about half that before they require additional support.) Still, I don't need that level of detail for this trial, right now.
"Ballpark it." I suggest. He relaxes, and I wonder just how unstable my classmates think I am. Probably not enough.
"I can control the stickiness to an extent." He explains. "So, if I need to be able to take it off easily, I keep it lower, but I can make it sticky enough that no one can get it off. Or at least, no one that's tried. I'm sure All Might could, for example. Aizawa-sensei might be able to…"
"So we'll avoid any of our classmates with super-strength quirks, easy enough." I wave the implied self-deprecation away. "Anything else your quirk can do that might help?"
"Well, I can control whether it's single-sided or double-sided tape? That's pretty handy in a lot of situations. You'd be surprised." He grins his weird, square-toothed grin at me, but I let him get away with it since that actually is useful information in this case.
"Perfect. Then let's go get our headband."
The cavalry battle starts off easily enough. Everyone goes after Izuku and the ten-million immediately, and I watch him launch himself and his team into the air curiously. They're using a jet pack and… jet boots? To propel themselves around.
Gravity Witch's quirk really seems to make people weightless, but they float slowly upward… is it just because the normal force hasn't been cancelled and it pushes them away from anything they touch? Or does her quirk actually just make them less dense than air? Is it really cancelling forces like she says or does it change something about the person or object she touches… if she is changing their density, would she be able to learn to control density more specifically? If she is cancelling their net forces in a certain reference frame, could she choose a different reference frame and send them flying?
I'm convinced her quirk does not actually cancel gravity (thank god), but I still don't want to be anywhere near her until she gets her shit together and finds the scientific and mathematical explanation for what the hell she's doing. Until then, for all I know her quirk is just the ability to change physical constants, and next time she touches someone she's going to change the Hubble constant and rip the universe in half.
Really, nowhere is safe, I realize. Shit.
I don't have time to finish contemplating how fucked we all are before a sharp pain in my scalp lets me know someone has decided to go for our team's headband instead of chasing after Izuku pointlessly. If the strategy hadn't involved pulling me off my teammates by the hair, I would have admired it.
"OW FUCK DAMMIT THAT HURTS." I regret volunteering to be the horse for this plan, but I would have felt guilty forcing any of these dumbasses to tape a headband to their own scalp. Still, I hadn't expected someone to pull hard enough to knock me off right out of the gate. The confused shouting and angry yelling are a mild consolation as I go tumbling ass over teakettle toward the ground.
Good thing this can't disqualify us, I think idiotically, just before slapping the ground to disperse the force of my fall. I blink at my hands in confusion, wondering where I learned to do a Judo break fall, but honestly that's so far down on the list of Weird Shit I Know that it practically doesn't count.
"Bakugou!" My teammates flutter around me uselessly, as if unsure whether I need help getting up.
"And Bakugou Katsuki has been thrown to the ground by Monoma from Class 1-B in a surprise attack while most people are focused on the 10-million! But Team Bakugou's headband is still safe! Was this a deliberate attempt to knock a rider from their horse? Midnight is deliberating…" Present Mic seems to be enjoying himself, at least.
"It was an accident!" Monoma protests as Midnight approaches, slapping her cat-o-nine-tails menacingly against the palm of her hand. "I didn't touch anything but his headband, I swear! They're supposed to be Velcro!" He seems to have realized what happened as he speaks, turning to
glare at me furiously. "They're cheating!"
"Not cheating if it's not against the rules." I point out, reasonably, still lounging on the ground. "We are meant to use our quirks to keep the headbands safe. Frog girl and Grape Boy are completely hidden by Tentacle Arms over there, so you don't even have the chance to try for their headband. At least with ours, you just need to find a way to overcome Elbow's quirk here."
"Well you're still not even on your horse, when you're obviously fine!" He protests, but it was just a token effort and we both knew it. "You can't just stay down there the whole time."
"I'm recovering." I deadpan. "I've been absolutely winded. Stunned. Disoriented."
"Get back on your horses, Bakugou-san." Midnight snaps her cat-o-nine-tails for emphasis. "I'm ruling your strategy as within the rules as we've presented them, but deliberately dismounting will be counted as an attempt to knock a rider from their horse – the rider being yourself. Monoma-san, I won't give you a card this time, but for future reference, let go a little earlier." She looks amused by this whole thing, which I suppose is better than being pissed about it, so I make a big deal about struggling back up onto my classmates' shoulders before tapping Elbows' shoulders twice.
Unfortunately, his aim isn't good enough to hit the other team's headband and just reel it back in, so he just goes for an overall attempt to slow them down, and we rush forward while they dodge to the side, right into our path. I reach out for the headband recklessly, knowing that our team's headband is secured by Elbows' quirk and that even if I overbalance and fall, I won't be disqualified (although perhaps I shouldn't antagonize Midnight too much with that loophole). It's almost disappointing, how easy the lax rules have made this trial…
An explosion at the end of my nose instead of the end of my hands has me choking in surprise. I blink at the smug grin on Blond Kid #3's face in disbelief. Oh, I realize vaguely, It's the copycat guy. Then, as what just happened fully sinks in: are you fucking KIDDING ME?
Blond #3 takes this chance to… what is this, a villain monologue? In a hero school? It's more likely than you think.
Unfortunately for his self-importance, all I can focus on are the sparks popping in this kid's hands because… Because my quirk took me years to use one-handed, and only works due to a combination of specialized glands in my hands and my body's inherited resistance to heat and force, both of which come from my parents. Because there's no way someone who didn't put in the time and effort to learn the limits of my quirk should be able to toss around unstable nitroglycerin without blowing his fucking hands off. And yet here he is. Quite possibly permanently damaging the ligaments in his wrists, but showing no signs of feeling it.
"I bet you google all the answers to the homework questions, too, don't you?" I accuse, interrupting the monologue about how unfair it is that 1-A has been getting attention. Yes, attention from villains and the press, and it's hard to tell the difference most days. "That kind of thing comes back to bite you in the ass on the test, you know."
"I do not!" Blond 3 splutters, and I take advantage of his distraction to tie the stolen headband around my neck and hold out a hand to Sero for some tape to secure it.
"Hit me, Elbows." He rolls his eyes but still starts making a strip of double-sided tape, carefully leaving either end free of adhesive so we can hand it around without getting stuck.
"WHEN DID YOU-" Blond 3's hands fly up to his forehead in shock, feeling nothing but bare skin. Dumbass thought setting off that teeny little explosion would stop me from grabbing his
headband? Sure, the skin on my upper arm and right cheek is feeling tight and hot in a way it hasn't since I was first learning to control my quirk, and I can feel a bruise forming all the way down to the bone, but it's worth it just to see the look on that copycat's face.
"You should have to practice with every new quirk you steal." I say, scowling, as I stick the tape to the back of the stolen headband. "It doesn't make any sense at all for you to just be able to use… my…" I trail off, staring at the deer-in-headlights expression on the other team's faces. "Oh. Oh my god, you've been practicing with my quirk, haven't you?" Wow, that is actually pretty impressive. I hadn't noticed at all. He must have bumped into me in the hallway or something and copied my quirk to practice. So, we weren't just a convenient target, huh? He came for us specifically. Or me? Maybe I should have listened more closely to that monologue earlier… Nah.
"That's actually pretty cool." I admit, nodding a bit in respect. "Clever to choose a target ahead of time and obscure your quirk's actual mechanics. Being overestimated can be just as much of an advantage as being underestimated, sometimes. As long as no one calls the bluff." The looks that one gets me are amusing. Yeah, okay, I called it, but that doesn't mean everyone else will. And I'm not going to spread it around. That kind of thing getting out could be the difference between this kid's life and death once he gets out on the streets.
I'm not giving their headband back, though. I grin with all my teeth as I stick the newly-taped headband onto my neck. That's going to be a bitch to get off later, but hey, that's a problem for Future Me to deal with. The facepalm one of Copycat's horses gives at the sight has me holding back a snort. Yeah, first you monologue, then you fall for the same trick two minutes later while I secure my victory. Stings, don't it?
"Don't worry too much about me figuring it out." I say as consolingly as I can while wearing a shit-eating grin. "I still have no way of knowing whose quirks you've practiced with or not, and I won't say anything. Consider it my thanks for the points." I tap my heels against my classmates' sides as if I really was riding a large horse. "Giddy up." I deadpan.
We still need 155 points, after all.
"I may not have thought this through." I admit between drinks of water as the crowd settles down from the (pointless) drama of Freezer Burn's bid for the 10 Million. While they'd all been distracted with the incredibly obvious red herring, we had snagged the last headband we needed from some team of nobodies (I am very deliberately not thinking about how one of them had a speech bubble for a head) for 165 points, then just sat back and watched the fireworks. Literally, I think Izuku might have singed his eyebrows setting off HVAC Boy like that.
Now, with the second round over, and no one trying to collect the headbands anymore, there is no need for us to guard them. Which just leaves one problem.
"Stop laughing." I scowl at Eyesore and Pink Panther as they roll on the ground. Elbows at least has the grace to look sheepish as I tug on the tape holding the headbands to my neck and scalp. It doesn't give at all, simply pulling the skin underneath along with it. Dammit. "How long does it take for this stuff to wear off?"
"It should lose its stickiness…. In a few hours." Elbows looks like he's bracing to dodge a punch. Good instincts, poor conclusion. If I was going to get my revenge, he'd never see it coming. Unfortunately, this problem is my own fault, so there won't be any violent stress relief in my immediate future. Well, actually, there might be, I remember, the third round should be a good time to let loose a bit.
"Whatever." I huff, itching at one of the headbands. They were damn uncomfortable. "You guys should stop laughing and drink some water. You might not feel it with the adrenaline still in your system, but carrying someone around and moving like that takes a lot out of you. I'd eat something too. Third round isn't until after lunch."
I'm wandering off to find some food for my own growling stomach when I hear a familiar sound. That gratingly high-pitched stutter could only be one person. Shamelessly, I follow my curiosity towards the sound.
"So, what did you want to talk about?" That's definitely Izuku's nervous stammering. Has he earned another admirer already? "If we don't hurry, the cafeteria will probably be really crowded…" An excellent point. What am I doing here instead of getting food? Oh yeah, blackmail material. I should pay attention.
"Midoriya…" That's IcyHot's voice. "Are you All Might's…?"
"I'M NOT SLEEPING WITH ALL MIGHT." Izuku blurts out, and I slap a hand over my mouth to stop the laugh that tries to slip out. Oh my god you moron.
"Why would you sleep with your Dad?" IcyHot asks, somehow managing to sound even more horrified than Izuku does. I wheeze from behind my fingers, hoping they're too distracted to hear the sound from around the corner. I'm so glad I was reborn to witness this, I think. Nothing could ruin this day.
"Bakugou Katsuki vs. Uraraka Ochako!" Present Mic announces enthusiastically.
I take it back.
Chapter End Notes
Confession: I think the calvary battle's boring, but canon hasn't diverged enough yet for me to avoid it, so I just ended up slogging through this chapter at a snail's pace. So here, I hate it, you have it.
Other notes about this chapter: Bakugou talks a lot of shit but mostly just gets by on brute force and ignorance, which I feel is in character for both me, as a self-insert, and canon bakugou, as a major dickweed. He's lucky he's conventionally attractive or no one would let him get away with this nonsense. Or is that me? The lines have blurred. I'm losing myself to this incredibly stupid fanfic.
Finally, you'll all be (worried) happy to know that Bakugou's fate has been decided. This fic is going to need some new tags soon.