Sunlight crept over the horizon, slowly warming the sky from the chill of darkness. Midoriya watched from his perch on his favorite rock, humming off beat to himself as the shadows softened and shrank back. He fished in his pouch, freeing a strip of jerky to munch on. The salty taste tingled on his tongue, and he found himself sighing. A breeze tickled his face, and Midoriya suppressed a shiver. He pulled his fur cloak tighter around himself, wishing for the upteenth time he could be back at his mother's hut by the nice warm fire.

The sheep couldn't drive themselves, however.

His gaze drifted down to the flock dotting the mountainside around him. Slowly, his dams were rousing themselves, their ears twitching at the shrills of birds singing in the breeze. Winter was coming to the mountains. He could feel it on the chill of the wind, and Midoriya was sure the sheep could feel it too. They caused little trouble when he rounded them up from their summer valley, easily following his lead through their hoof worn mountain path back to the village.

Midoriya ripped off another chunk of jerky and chewed. The jerky was nice, but it certainly didn't compare to his mother's warm stew. His mouth watered at the thought, and Midoriya could almost smell the savory meat broiling over the fire. He sighed again. With luck, it would only take another day to get back to the village. He could hardly wait; though his fur cloak was nice and thick, the nights were frigid and firewood was sparse. His flint was getting worn out, too. Midoriya made a mental note to break a new one when he got home. He polished off his jerky and stood, wincing at his stiff muscles. Midoriya puffed out a breath and stretched, his gaze wandering back to the colorful sky. If there was one good thing about the biannual drive, it was getting to see sights like this. He bent down to scoop up his staff and fastened his pouch. Satisfied, Midoriya straightened.

His whistle bounced in the air, creating an echoing harmony that roused both sheep and dogs. A pair of wagging tails bounded to him, and Midoriya bent down to give out some scratches. Mo and Yip snuffed at his boots and licked at his hands. They were mutts, raised exclusively to help herd and protect the sheep. Their mottled coats helped them blend into the mountainside, and both were large enough to scare off most predators and beings out to hurt the flock. Midoriya straightened, grinning as they both sat and watched him with keen eyes. "You guys ready?"

Yip wriggled and Mo 'woofed'. Midoriya's grin widened, and he let out a stream of short whistles. Both dogs were off like a bolt, rounding around the herd and gathering the sheep together. The dogs and Midoriya had a unique language; whistles and yips, correlating to specific instructions. If he sang out a high pitched note, the dogs both knew to spur the herd forward. A series of short, staccato whistles told the dogs where to be. It was almost like a dance, and Midoriya's whistles were the beat.

Within moments, the loosely scattered herd was tightened into a surging patch of wool. Midoriya scanned the mountainside for any stragglers, and satisfied when he found none, he sang out the cue to move onwards. Yip and Mo's excited barks rang out in the brisk morning air behind him, and Midoriya couldn't help the spring in his step as he picked his way along the hoof beaten path. His free hand reached up under the ties of his cloak, fingers clasping the beads strung around his neck out of reflex.

Midoriya had walked this path so many times, he was certain he could walk it in his sleep. His feet knew every stone and dip, and though his boots slid every-so-often, his body compensated for the motion, keeping him balanced. That allowed his mind to wander, as it often did, and Midoriya found himself lost in a world within his head. A world where he didn't tend to sheep and life was a little more...exhilarating.

In his mind, he lived out adventures, with swords and knights and magic and fire.

A lamb bleated, bringing Midoriya out of his reverie. He glanced back, spotting one of the spitfire youngsters break away from the herd to trot towards him and shove its little head under his fingertips. Midoriya scratched the lamb behind the ears with a small smile and sighed. Sure, he loved his life. The sheep trusted him, depended on him, even. And Mo and Yip were his best friends. Always loyal and never judging, he could count on them to be by his side always. And yet, they weren't exactly...human.

Or, at least, they couldn't communicate like humans. Which often made these trips feel just a tad bit lonely. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts, and fumbled for his wineskin. His face creased into a wince; it was nearly empty. He'd have to fill it at the next stream. Midoriya took a small swig, wetting his dry throat. Even at the comfortable pace, he was working up a bit of a sweat. The thin mountain air wasn't helping either. It felt like little ice needles were stabbing at his lungs and throat any time he sucked in a breath. Not exactly the most pleasant sensation. Midoriya secured the wineskin and fastened it back to his belt as he walked, not breaking stride.

After all, he really did wish to make it back by nightfall.

He and the herd traversed downwards as the day wore on, only stopping once at the small creek that cut through their path. Midoriya made sure to climb upstream a bit to fill the wineskin, pointing the opening downstream as he submerged it. Just like he was taught. Once he, the herd, and the dogs were refreshed, they set off again, the top of the treeline within their sights.

Excitement sparked in his gut. He let out another piercing whistle, picking up the pace. Their people were a mountainous people, living amidst the upper reaches of the evergreen forest that blanketed most of the mountain range. The forest provided some protection against any unwanted beasts of the sky, and their altitude allowed protection against any unwelcome visitors from below. A perfect compromise, really.

Midoriya didn't care so much about any so-called beasts; in his time driving the sheep, he'd yet to encounter anything other than the occasional air nymph. The biggest danger came from predators, like wolves or cougars, and they were mostly after the sheep.

It was almost midday by the time they reached the treeline. Midoriya led the herd through the quiet forest, carefully picking their path among the bed of pine needles underfoot. Immediately, their surroundings were cast in a soft, muted light. The melodies of the forest wrapped around the herd, mixing with the thud of hooves and occasional bleat of a dam. Midoriya tuned out the noises around him, focusing his attention on the forest floor. His gaze darted about, picking up on the minute details that ensured they were following the correct trail. Instinct had his hand reaching for his beads as they walked, rubbing a thumb on them idly. Unlike the rocky peaks, the forest was rife with activity, and there weren't any distinguishable rock formations to keep one oriented. Just endless tree trunks spreading out on all directions, occasionally broken up by some brave underbrush taking advantage of the miniscule rays of sunlight that shone through the canopy.

Truth be told, Midoriya was a little more nervous of the forest than he was of the peaks. At least on the peaks, it was harder for large predators to hide. Here, wolves and cougars could be lurking in the shadows, stalking him and his sheep. He suppressed a shiver, holding his staff with a tight grip. Midoriya understood that everything had to eat, but he hated losing a sheep. His job was to protect them, after all. He remembered the stomach rolling sensation of finding the mauled remains of a lamb, the first time it happened on his watch. He'd cried, hugging the lamb's mother. Inui-sensei had shaken his head, exasperated, and scolded him for blubbering like a kid.

"Look, kid, this shit happens. 'Tis just a shame that there's nothing left to use, really."

Midoriya cried harder at that.

He toughened up a bit since. Midoriya couldn't exactly help but get attached to the sheep; while most of their clan merely saw the animals as a valuable resource, albeit a bit dumb, Midoriya spent enough time with them to distinguish their individual personalities. Sure, his sheep weren't always the smartest animals, but there was more to them than being wool making machines. Still, part of rearing sheep was losing some, whether to illness or injuries or predators, it happened. He still took the time to quietly mourn the loss, though, just with a few less tears.

A soft bleat snagged his attention, and Midoriya looked down to see one of the lead dams trotting beside him. He smiled. "Hey, girl." The dam flicked her ears, reaching down to nose the pine needles as she walked. Midoriya chuckled and scratched behind her ears. "Silly sheep," he murmured. His companion didn't grace him with an answer, continuing to nose at the ground as she trotted along.

Soon, the faintest whiff of smoke tickled at his nose. Excitement curled inside of him, and Midoriya nearly skipped as he picked up the pace. His gaze caught sight of the ever familiar bent trunk; it was an odd pine tree that seemed to curve as it grew upwards. This tree was a landmark for the village. Midoriya tossed an excited series of whistles over his shoulders, breaking out into a sprint. He could hear Yip and Mo barking behind him as they raced around the herd, bunching the sheep together so they could herd them through the village proper.

Amid the trees, there was flickers of movement. Midoriya could now make out the shadows of small huts, tucked away under the boughs of pines. He felt the tension coiled in his shoulders fade, and an eager grin split his face.

He was home.

Even the sheep seemed excited. Their bleats were louder, sharper, and they surged forward, trotting around Midoriya and into the village. He laughed and whistled long and low. He watched Yip and Mo bounce around the sheep, nipping at their fetlocks as they ushered them to their wintering clearing.

Villagers paused in their daily tasks to watch the sheep trample through the town, a few even going as far as to acknowledge Midoriya with a nod or a wave. He waved back, his attention darting everywhere at once.

For as long as anyone can remember, their clan had always lived among the mountains. In particularly, they'd always lived clustered at the uppermost edge of the pine forest. Their huts were small and squat, made out of a combination of wood and mud and occasionally pine boughs. Little holes in the roof allowed for smoke to escape, as fires were a necessity to stay warm. Nights could get cold, here, especially in the wintertime.

He drove the sheep away from the main throng of huts, to a clearing situated right at the outskirts of town. There, the waning sunlight spilled to the ground, and grass sprung up eagerly. It was coarse and tough, but the sheep ate it regardless. Midoriya shepherded the last of the stragglers into their makeshift corral, dropping his staff in favor of fastening the gate. While summering in the valley up in the peaks, they didn't bother fencing the sheep in. Their herd was well suited to the rough mountain terrain, and with Yip and Mo around to keep watch, there wasn't any reason to restrict their movements. Here during the winter, though, the threats to the herd from predation were higher. So, the corral.

A swift tug, and the gate was secure. Midoriya pulled at the knot a final time, just to be sure, and satisfied, he bent down to pick up his staff.

"Hey, kid!"

Midoriya whirled around, his gaze landing on the hulking figure of Inui. His shaggy hair and beard, rattling with decorative beads, often reminded Midoriya of a dog. "How was the drive? Any trouble?"

He shook his head. "No, sensei, no trouble. All heads are accounted for, and the lambs are growing nice and strong."

Inui jerked his head in a nod. "Good. Now you go get yerself a good wash and food, alright?"

Midoriya laughed, bobbing his head eagerly. "Yes, thank you, sensei."

The elder man merely waved him off, already moving to greet the dogs. Inui was the head of the sheep in their clan, a job he took rather seriously. Midoriya had a lot of respect for the man; with his hulking physique and his sparkling fire magic, he could have easily joined the Guild. But Inui always scoffed at such exclamations, insisting that tending the sheep was just as important a job to have. "We need wool for our clothes and bedding, and meat to eat," he always said. Midoriya watched him scratch Yip behind the ears, his gruff voice pitched higher as he spoke to the dog. He shook his head at the sight. The dogs loved Inui; it was as though he could understand them an some fundamental level.

He waved over his shoulder, not looking to see if Inui acknowledged the gesture, and set off for his hut. Already, the sun was shrinking back down to the earth, and Midoriya was exhausted after spending the entire day walking. His limbs ached, and he couldn't wait to curl up in his hides and sleep.

Midoriya weaved his way through the trees. His hut was among those in the outskirts of the village, nestled against a thick clump of trees. It was less noisy, there, which he figured his mother liked. He liked it too, if he was being honest. Being in the thick of the village was overwhelming at times; so many sights and smells and sounds. Midoriya wasn't sure how he would handle it all, had they lived there instead. Here, in their quiet little grove, he found a bit of peace. It was calm, comforting. Some days when he wasn't needed to help out with the sheep, or processing the wool, he would sprawl out on the bed of needles and just bask it the quiet the forest had to offer.

Golden trails of sunlight filtered through the pines, painting anything in its wake a fiery blaze. The day was waning by the time he made it to his hut, and Midoriya could feel the travelling aches and pains twinging at his muscles. He propped his staff against the side of his hut, his knuckles brushing against the well worn bark peeling off the home's logs. Midoriya sucked in a breath, squared his shoulders, and pushed back the skins hanging in the doorway. "Mom? I'm home."

"Izuku!" The piercing wail had him wincing, and Midoriya had little time to recover before his mother tackled him into a tight embrace. "Oh, Izuku, I missed you! How was the trip? Were the sheep okay? I can't believe Inui let you go all by yourself, I was so worried, are you hungry? I made some stew-"

Midoriya laughed, gently pushing his mother back. "I'm fine, mom, really!"

Inko Midoriya peered up at him, her large eyes glassy and brimming with affection. Any time Midoriya left home for longer than a few hours, his mother would nearly tackle him like this. Whether or not tears were involved depended on how long he'd been gone. It was embarrassing, but Midoriya couldn't deny the spark of warmth her doting brought within him. Inko managed a wobbly smile. "Yes, of course." She moved to untie his cloak, tugging it off his shoulders and hanging it on a pair of antlers tacked onto the wall.

Their home was small, cozy. It was about twenty paces wide in either direction, with a low ceiling. A firepit sat in the middle, fire already blazing within. Over it, hung an iron pot containing what Midoriya assumed to be the stew. His mouth watered at the smell, and his growling stomach an immediate reminder as to how hungry he actually was. He quickly fumbled with his boots, kicking them off and gratefully accepted a bowl from Inko before flopping down to sit on the skins piled beside the fire pit.

Shadows danced to the tune of the fire's flames, adding to the cozy atmosphere. Midoriya's gaze flickered about as he shovelled stew into his mouth. He could practically feel the tension melting off of him as he took in the comforting view of his home. The rickety table, piled high with raw wool. The loom in the corner, woolen yarn still strung around its wheel. Wool blankets were strung up here and there, waiting to be taken with the traders down to the big cities. Midoriya paused to marvel at the intricately woven patterns in the blankets; beasts and dragons and Guildsmen showing incredible bravery were forever immortalized in wool and yarn. Inko had a way with wool, and her creations did well for the village. Pride sparked in his chest. He was proud of his mother's talents; oftentimes, as a kid, he'd watch her work for hours on end. It was a sight to see, and Midoriya only wished he could do her proud as well.

He sighed, deflating immediately. Midoriya set his bowl in his lap, his gaze resting on his hands. What talents did he have, aside from tending to the sheep? His shoulders slumped.

"Izuku?" Inko's voice was soft, hesitant. Midoriya looked up, swept into her gentle gaze. "Is everything all right? You're awful quiet." Concern rippled in her expression, and Midoriya bit back a sigh.

"Yeah, mom, I'm fine. Just tired."

She squinted at him, her green eyes shimmering with some unspoken emotion, before nodding slowly. "All right. Here, are you finished with your stew?"

Midoriya handed over his bowl, watching Inko as she brought it to the table. Her tresses, a dark woolen skirt with a worn, leather apron tied around her middle, swayed as she moved. Firelight painted the fabric an array of fragmented colors, from a muted grey to a bright gold. Despite how well her quilts did, Inko never tried to over adorn herself, like some of the village ladies. She always insisted on being practical, telling Midoriya, "Fancy furs just get in the way anyway."

A yawn bubbled to his lips, and Midoriya paused his musings to rub his eyes. All at once, it feels like the four day trek crashed into him at once. Midoriya hauls himself to his feet, tugging off his trousers and reaching for his bedroll. His beads thump against his chest as he bends down to unroll the thick furs and wool blankets, straightening them out on his favorite patch of floor. Midoriya reaches up, his thumb and forefinger rubbing against the solitary tooth strung along those colorful beads, before sliding under his blankets with a sigh. He feels a hand brush along his forehead, and hears a soft, "Goodnight," before sleep takes him.

~#~#~#~

Birdsong filled the silence, alongside the constant thud thud of his own footsteps. Midoriya hummed along, only pausing to take another bite out of the roll clutched in his hands. The bread was pretty dry; grain was hard to come by up here in the mountains, and typically the cheapest grains to trade for weren't exactly the most delicious. Still, bread was bread, and it made for a decent enough breakfast.

He felt a little bad for dashing out of the hut the instant the sun was up, but Midoriya couldn't quell the need to be up and moving. The biannual drives always made him feel antsy afterwards, at least for a few days. He always struggled to relax, that go-go-go mentality still clouding his mind. Plus, his sore muscles really needed a good stretch, anyway.

Midoriya's feet carried him around the outskirts of the village. Truthfully, he didn't really like hanging around the village center more than he had to; people here either pitied him too much, and it showed, or they brushed him off. Midoriya wasn't sure which was worse. Instead, he flanked around the tight cluster of huts, the smells of smoke tickling his nose and sounds of shrieking children ringing in his ears, and hit the well worn path towards the western peaks.

The eastern peaks were where the sheep summered; they were smaller, and riddled with nice little valleys the sheep could rest in. The western peaks, however, were taller, more jagged. Some of them reached so high into the sky, that snow and ice caked the rock, never to melt. Among these peaks hid some of the most treacherous terrain.

It also happened to be where Guild members trained.

The Guild were the guardians of the clan. They lead hunting trips, initiated trade trips, and defended the clan during times of war. Those of the Guild were often praised for their fighting prowess; people and beings far and wide feared them. Only those born with the strongest flames were even eligible to join the Guild, as well, something that twisted at Midoriya's gut whenever he thought of it. Those of the Guild were of high station in their clan, often looked up to by all. A part of him, the fanciful, hopelessly dreamy part of him, despised that he'd never get the chance to even try to prove his worth.

Midoriya sighed and shoved those thoughts away. He tried to remind himself that he still served a noble service for his clan, tending the sheep. No matter how...unflashy it was. Besides, he could still watch them train. Eagerness fizzled in his veins. Midoriya stepped lighter, practically trotting out of the treeline. His boots skid against the beaten down path, knocking against the pebbles that rested there. The hike took him up and up, over a ridge. The air was brisk here, sending chills up and down his arms. Midoriya tightened his fur cloak and suppressed a shiver. He almost thought he could see his breath; winter was surely approaching.

Low voices met Midoriya's ears. His gaze darted ahead, landing on a few Guildsmen walking ahead. Their bright red cloaks whipped in the breeze, a splash of color against the grey and brown landscape. Midoriya stiffened. He looked sharply at the ground, keeping his head down as he approached.

"...rumors of monsters rampaging in the south."

"Hmm. Strange."

"Indeed. Though I'd love to see them try to touch our mountains."

"Hell yeah, we'd tear them to shreds…"

Midoriya's brows furrowed at the words, but he didn't dare look up as he passed by. He kept his head bowed respectfully and focused on his feet. There was a flash of red in the corner of his eye, and the two Guildsmen walked on, their voices shrinking back to a muted harmony, before getting lost on the breeze. Midoriya slowed, casting an apprehensive glance over his shoulder. Monsters rampaging in the south? That sounded bad. He bit his lip. If the disinterested tone was anything to go by, the Guild didn't seem too concerned. Still, he couldn't help the shiver that ran up his spine.

There were rumors here and there. Rumors of dark things lurking. Rearing their heads from the shadows, creeping around the edges of society. Only, currently, those rumors were starting to hit a fever pitch. Midoriya had heard the whispers around town, whispers of monsters and dark magic. They were often dismissed, someone insisting that the Guild would keep them safe. Still, Midoriya couldn't help but wonder.

He huffed as he climbed. The path widened out, lined on either side by decorative torches. If he looked up, Midoriya would see Guildsmen lining the rocky walls on either side of the mountain pass. Voices echoed all around him, and up ahead, he could hear the sounds of fighting. A grin flickered on his lips. Midoriya picked up the pace, rushing ahead.

Supposedly, the training plateau was a chunk of mountain whose peak was shaved off by a massive dragon that once attacked their clan, defeated by the original founder of the Guild. It served as the perfect place for Guildsmen to hone their skills; large enough to allow numerous sparring matches to occur at once, and far enough away from their village that everyone can use their flames at maximum power. Midoriya's breath caught in his throat as he surveyed the scene.

Little pits were carved into the plateau, the stone smooth and scorched from the use of fire magic. In each pit, Guildsmen and women could be seen, duking it out in various types of sparring matches. On Midoriya's left, he could see the telltale splashes of red in the various arenas; Guildsmen, practicing and sparring. On his right, though, no red cloaks were visible on the trainees. Excitement coiled in his gut. They must be the enlistees.

Every year, when a clan member came of age, the Guild selected those they wish to recruit, and allowed them to train alongside their ranks. This training culminated in the Trials ritual, a test of arms in which the enlistees proved once and for all they were meant to join the Guild. The Trails were brutal, and often barbaric, but there was still something so...inspiring, when he watched. Midoriya trotted towards the enlistees' matches, excitement brewing within.

He teetered on the edge of the first pit, his hands curling into fists as his gaze swept down into the arena. A dark haired boy, his hair swept back into a bandana, raced around the ring. Smoke curled from his hands, and he bared his teeth at his opponent. "Catch me if you can!" he jeered.

Flames erupted from the palms of the girl in the ring, igniting harsh shadows on her features and highlighting her coy smile. "That won't be a problem!" she said, throwing an arm forward. Fire spurt out towards the boy in a wide burst, nearly singing him. He dodged, bending with the grace of a mountain lion, and dropped to the dirt, rolling. The kid splayed his palms on the earth and pushed himself to his feet, leaving behind a smear of scorch marks.

"Missed me!"

The girl snarled. "You just got lucky!"

An explosion rattled the the earth and sent Midoriya stumbling forward. His gaze snapped over his shoulder, where smoke curled upwards from a few pits over. Was that…? He turned on his heels, nearly breaking out into a sprint. Dodging and weaving around Guildsmen and enlistees alike, Midoriya skid to a halt at a pit, just a little ways down from where he was before. His gaze landed on a familiar mop of wheat blond hair, right before another explosion burned in his eyes.

"Die!"

Midoriya grinned.

There, amidst the smoke and ashes, stood none other than Bakugou Katsuki. A ferocious snarl twisted at his features, matching the wild look in his eyes. His hands, half curled into fists, were smoking from use. Ash and soot coated him from head to toe, even streaking the rock around him. His opponent, a girl Midoriya recognized as Utsushimi Camie, glowered at him from across the ring. "That's not very heroic," she muttered. The air around her appeared the shimmer as heat rolled off her in waves. Midoriya watched, fascinated, as the rock beneath her hands and feet began to melt. She surged forward, flinging a fistfull of molten rock Bakugou's way. He dodged with ease, launching another explosion at her.

Fire manifested itself in a variety of ways among their clan. That was their magical element. People could do anything from spew flames from their mouth, to launch a series of explosions from their palms, like Bakugou.

Utsushimi rolled out of the smoke, coughing. She wiped ash from her face, her expression set with determination. There was a growl, and she launched herself forward again. Bakugou grinned, wicked. He threw up both hands, palms sparking. "Die!"

Heat stung at Midoriya's face, and he threw up an arm over his face, squinting his eyes shut as dust and soot rained down. He blinked, squinting back down into the ring. Utsushimi staggered in place, her face drawn in a frown. Soot streaked her trousers and her corset had some singe marks on it. "Is that all you've got?" she taunted. She stepped lightly, trying to circle to Bakugou's left. He kept her square in his sights though, his face set in a snarl.

"Fuck you." Flames popped and crackled above his palms, but Bakugou didn't fire at her. He merely watched her with a determined glare.

Utsushimi's frown deepened. "You say that as though you don't want to," she said, her voice a pur. Midoriya flushed at that. A dirty move, for sure. He couldn't get a good enough glimpse at Bakugo's face to see his expression, but he could tell by the tenseness of his shoulders and the staccato bursts of his flames that he was embarrassed.

An opening.

Midoriya held his breath. Time seemed to slow. Utsushimi's foot shifted, the rock beneath her red-hot. In a fluid motion, she swept her boot against the ground, kicking up a screen of molten rock. Bakugou cursed, throwing his hands up to block the spray, and then she was upon him. He cried out at a deft kick to the side, and Midoriya could see the gleam of Utsudhimi's wild grin. "Got you!" she shrieked, elated. Bakugou tucked in his arms, rolling, before springing back onto his feet. The explosion erupted before Midoriya could even blink.

"Die!"

Utsushimi didn't even stand a chance. As soon as the dust cleared, Bakugou was upon her, kicking and punching. She tried to parry back, but Bakugo was relentless. He was a reckless force of fury, and there was no stopping him. "Die, die, die!" he screeched, landing a series of harsh blows to her face, arms, and torso. Utsushimi stumbled back, unable to ecen punch back. Bakugo grinned manically and reared up, kicking at her legs. She went down hard, landing on the ground with a thud.

Just like that, the match was over.

Bakugou stood tall, shoulders heaving as he grinned. "I win," he said. Utsushimi seemed to say something, but Midoriya couldn't hear her over the roaring bystanders.

"That Bakugou is a riot," someone said beside him. Midoriya peeked, blanching at the red cloak draped over the stranger's shoulders. Guildsmen.

"Yeah, tell me about it. His flame is insane. He'll probably put the Trials to shame."

There was a snort. "Makes sense though. Captain's his mother, after all."

"Only Captain Bakugou would have a kid as explosive as she is," the other Guildsman laughed. His companions laughed alongside him, racious and loud. Midoriya snapped his gaze back to the pit. He clenched his fists, gulping, and tried to remain as still as possible. Anxiety coiled like a snake in his gut, slithering into his bloodstream and making his skin tingle.

By law, he was allowed, just like any other clan member, to watch the Guildsmen practise. However, not everyone was fond of a flameless sheep herder running loose amidst the training grounds. Midoriya grimaced at the thought. Yes, it was best to remain largely unnoticed. He took a step back, nearly running into the person behind him, before working to weave his way out of the crowd that had gathered.

His grimace melted away into a small grin. That was the thing with Bakugo; no matter who he sparred with, his matches were sure to draw attention. His fighting prowess was a huge factor, of course, but there was also the explosive quality of his flame. It was very hard to miss.

Midoriya wandered over to the next pit. Once again, it was a pair of enlistees, two he didn't recognize. He stopped anyway, settling down on the edge of the arena to watch. The match was interesting enough; the taller boy had a strong, steady flame that spewed from his palms in any direction he pleased. Things were looking tough for the shorter boy; he could breathe flames, but they didn't reach quite as far. Midoriya rubbed his chin, his brow furrowing.

It would be hard for the firebreather to get close, what with the other boy's flame having such reach. He'd have to get creative… How though? Precision was key, he supposed. Predict the other boy's movements, give him a feint, and a hefty kick or punch could take him down. Otherwise the match was as good as won; the taller boy could just keep his opponent on his feet until he couldn't continue.

"Oh! Deku!"

Midoriya froze, squeaking. He peeked over his shoulder, his gaze meeting the teasing glint of Utsushimi's. "O-oh, hey, what's up?"

She skipped over to him, her honey-blonde curls bouncing on her shoulders. Her face was still streaked with ash from her match with Bakugou, and there were singe marks on her clothes. "Whatcha doing, stalking us?" she said, giggling. Midoriya felt his cheeks alight, and he wondered faintly if that was what it felt like to have a flame.

"No of-of course not! I was just, I uh didn't have anything-"

"The fuck are you talking to this nerd for?" Bakugou's smoldering gaze appeared over Utsushimi's shoulder, catching Midoriya in its scorching intensity. He managed a wobbly grin, waving halfheartedly at the explosive boy.

"Hey, Kacchan! I saw your match, good work out there."

Bakugou snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Of fucking course, I won after all, dipshit." There was a ring of pride in his voice that Midoriya didn't miss, and he stalked over and plopped down beside him. Bakugou threw a look at Utsushimi, seemingly unimpressed. "You gonna sit or what?"

She skipped to his side, twirling a strand of hair on her finger. Midoriya blinked. Well, alright, then. He returned his focus to the match down below with a sigh. They were an...odd group, to say the least. Midoriya snuck a glance at the boy beside him.

Bakugou Katsuki was a bit of an enigma. He was explosive, literally and figuratively. He had the patience of a scrawny chicken, had a mouth fouler than the traders from the northern seas, and had an ego so big, Midoriya worried he'd hit his head on all the stars in the sky. Bakugou also had a habit of ragging on him every chance he got. From what little Midoriya understood about friendship, he was pretty sure theirs wasn't normal.

"The hell are you looking at, Deku?"

Midoriya flushed, his gaze snapping back to the arena. "Nu-nothing!" he stammered. Fire lit up the pit, flames dancing in Midoriya's vision. He could feel the heat blistering his skin, even from all the way up here. "Are uh," he said, pausing to bite his lip. Bakugou's gaze was even more blistering than the fire down below, and Midoriya forced the words out. "Are you ready for the Trials?"

The heat of Bakugou's stare ratcheted up a notch, before dissipating completely. "Tch. Of course I am, nerd. Camie on the other hand…"

Utsushimi scoffed, her eyes wide and glassy. "Hey! I'm more than ready for this." She tossed her hair over her shoulders, haughty, before pointing accusingly at Bakugou. "You're the one that relies too much on your flame!" Utsushimi huffed and crossed her arms, pouting. "You cannot just blow all monsters up."

Bakugou glared. "Fuck yeah I can."

"U-uh, U-Utsu-"

"Camie," Utsushimi interrupted. "It's Camie."

Midoriya gulped, paling. "C-Camie has a point, Kacchan. Besides, wouldn't that just kill them?" There was a beat of silence, where Bakugou and Utsushimi stared at him, before they both burst out laughing.

"That's the point, dumbass," Bakugou said, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his palm. "You have to fucking murder the monsters. Don't tell me you've been living under some rocks or some shit."

At this, Midoriya frowned. "Of-of course I knew that," he said. "I just...it seems kind of brutal, to obliterate them like that." He couldn't stop the grimace that twisted at his features, nor the shudder that ran up his spine. Images of charred bits and pieces of monsters scattering in the wind painted across his mind, deepening his grimace.

"Oh, Deku," Utsushimi said between giggles, "you're so...innocent."

Bakugou snorted. "And useless. Just like the rest of these extras." He gestured out into the arena, where the two enlistees were on the verge of collapse. A sneer graced Bakugou's features, and he upturned his nose at the sight, as if the grueling match below was beneath him. "I'm gonna blow some monsters to smithereens, and become the best Guildsman there's ever fucking been."

His words echoed with victory and promise, and Midoriya grinned. The best indeed. If anyone could do it, it would certainly be Bakugou.

Wow, I haven't posted much on here in awhile. But since some folks in this fandom seem to use FF, I figured it wouldn't hurt to throw this here too! This is also posted on my ao3 account as well!

-Kat