The Sports Festival hadn't come quickly enough in the eyes of the excited students. In Katsuki's opinion, it had come far too quick.

The raucous murmuring coming from the crowds all around them should have been more nervewracking. While his classmates seemed cowed by the roaring cheers, Katsuki found himself with nerves of steel. The teenager scanned the crowd, searching face after face after face - old, young, until his eyes hurt from the intensity of his stare.

There were... so many people here... part of him was surprised the arena had enough room for this. All of them looked so excited and happy... and completely uncaring of everything that could go wrong today.

Katsuki's scar ached a phantom pain, and he touched his fingers to its ugly jagged edges. Was Shigaraki here now, waiting for the best opportunity to cause more trouble? Was he here, lying low, waiting for All Might to show his face again?

A hand clapping down on his shoulder made him flinch, and he cast an irritated look to a smiling Kirishima. The boy's bright look didn't even dim as he regarded him. "Hey, good luck out there, right?"

Katsuki grunted and turned away, expecting the redhead's hand to leave. When it didn't, he looked up again with a grumpy "What?"

"What are you looking for? You keep looking up at the crowd." Kirishima's thin brow furrowed for a moment, then he seemed to realize with an excited gasp, "Wait, do you have family watching? Friends from middle school? Are your parents here?"

Were they? Katsuki scanned the spectators again, and frowned. "I dunno. I didn't ask."

"Oh, well that's a bummer." Kirishima's hand finally left his shoulder, and the comforting warmth wicked away with its leave. He nudged him with his elbow instead. "I'd have liked to meet them."

His mother was likely at home, he surmised. And his father was likely at work, if they hadn't outright given him leave to watch the Yuuei Sports Festival now that he was participating. (His father had sounded so, so painfully proud when he announced that his coworkers and boss were interested in his son's progress...) And his... friends? Hah. He had no friends to speak of. (Those losers were probably slaving away at a regular high school...)

But... what about Deku?

All at once the boy's empty, piercing eyes popped into his mind's eye, and all of a sudden his hands felt clammier than usual. What were the Midoriyas doing? He hadn't spoken much to Inko since visiting a few weeks ago. Would she even care about the festival considering she now had her son to take care of?

Swallowing, he shook his head. Their teacher was no doubt supervising their class from above, and Midnight was about to head off the activities.

"Say a prayer, and let the good times roll," he could hear someone from 1-B saying to another. When he looked over, he saw the girl with the vines for hair nod shakily and clasp her hands together.

Locking eyes with a stoic Todoroki, he felt his resolve strengthen, and his eyes narrowed at the boy.

Say a prayer.

Katsuki never counted himself religious, but in this instant, he felt he could use some extra luck.

"Freshman representative, come on up!" Midnight called out, beckoning with her hand.

Say a prayer.

Katsuki took a breath, shoulders straight, and ambled with as cool of a head as he could to the podium.

Had this been any other situation, he might've shown a little more bravado, and just a touch more arrogance. But as he stood in front of the microphone, facing hundreds of spectators and the anticipation from the students, he completely forgot what he was about to say. His scar began to burn on the side of his face, and the warmth crept up to his ears.

Say a prayer.

Swallowing almost invisibly, he said instead, "1-A is gonna take out the competition, easy! This is gonna be a piece of cake! You losers might as well just give up and go home now."

That might've been the wrong thing to say, but as the other classes began to boo and jeer, he felt a little bit of his confidence creep back in. Izuku's haunting eyes were all but forgotten as he went back to his seat.


The race had been a close one, too close, thanks to the Todoroki kid - but Katsuki had come out ahead, as he knew he would. His momentary high was dashed, however, when the next event was announced - the Human Cavalry Battle - and he was saddled with the highest-scoring headband of them all, marking him a target for everyone else.

Tch. No matter. He could take them all on even if he had one other person!

Though even as he stood there, the very picture of nonchalance, nobody else migrated his way. They whispered to one another, glancing over, some glaring over thanks to his stunt at the beginning, but nobody was eager to team up. Something ugly welled up in the pit of his gut, something that whispered, "Of course. You don't have friends. They'll only distract you."

As teams slowly formed all around him, the clamminess in his hands resurfaced. Katsuki clenched and unclenched them, feeling tiny popping explosions ripple in his palms.

"... Hey. You."

Katsuki turned to see a skulking purple-haired guy shambling up, hands in his pockets. His unruly hair and the dark circles beneath his eyes made his fists clench. He didn't quite recognize him at first; but that was until their gazes locked.

For a split second, he imagined Izuku's eyes there instead. But with another blink, they were purple, not green, and he found himself tensing again.

With a leering grin, the boy from 1-B continued, "Wanna team up? Mister Ten Million..."


Katsuki stared into his soup, ignoring the chatter of the other students all around him. The day's events had gone well enough thus far, and he had even managed to gain an unlikely ally in the other class, Shinsou. The boy was nebulous, even spiteful when he mentioned 1-A, but his Quirk was powerful enough that it didn't even matter. With his help he had easily managed to keep the ten-million headband, but that was all they had to win on. The only other team to come close was Todoroki's, and the boy had been staring him down with a maddening intensity nearly the entire time.

Taking his attention away from the steaming bowl, he turned instead to the salad - a simple pile of healthy greens, radish, peppers, and slices of hardboiled egg and some chive flowers sitting daintily atop it. It was plain, but it was good, and as he took a crunching bite he examined the flowers' gentle purple hue.

It made him think of Shinsou, who was no doubt eating with his class at the moment. The boy's deep, disquieting stare made beads of sweat form on the back of his neck, made him instinctively look over his shoulder, made him look away. There was something about that boy that was... strange, and it wasn't just the way he seemed to command the others with just a few simple words exchanged. It was all so strange. Katsuki hated strange like he hated weakness.

Izuku's eyes flickered past his mind's eye again, and so did Shinsou's leering smile, and he took another big bite of salad before taking a good, long gulp of milk to distract himself from the unease that had began to settle in his chest.

The day wasn't over yet. The next stage was going to come soon, and with it, Katsuki's chance to set himself apart from the rest and finally prove that he was number one. So what if he didn't have All Might's eye? After this, everyone would be looking at him and only him.

His scar began to ache, and he cupped a hand over it, massaging the jagged line with his thumb as he ate.


The final round, the tournament, and all Katsuki could focus on was a mismatched head of white and red hair. Todoroki had been stoically ignoring him through the entire lunch break, and now that everyone was waiting to go into the arena, he could feel his frustration boiling more and more.

Focus on me, dammit! I'm your target, right here - stop pretending I don't exist!

Focus on me! I'm your target, right?!

He blinked, turning to look around the group. What was that voice just now?

Flowers. That's what popped out to him when he looked up into the stands - some girl with a bunch of colorful flowers blooming in her hair was cheering on the students as the first fight commenced. Bright purple columbine blooms (or, that's what he assumed; his father was more into flowers than he was) waved about, chased closely by cheerful yellow gladioluses. Their swordlike leaves poked out from the girl's hair like thorns, verdant and oddly familiar.

He swallowed hard and turned back to the match. He'd been paired up with Uraraka, a girl he knew absolutely nothing about. She was tricky to be sure, but he was sure he could beat her - and he had. He was the best, after all, and only the best could go toe-to-toe with the best.

His next match was... against Shinsou, the boy from earlier. Not Todoroki, as he assumed it would be - apparently he was still due to fight his next opponent. There was a shivering wave of unease that rippled down his spine and into his hands, and they clenched and unclenched as he approached the center. Shinsou was every bit outwardly cool and collected as one would expect, but he could see a spark of intrigue belied beneath that devil-may-care attitude.

"So," he drawled, "Mr. Ten Million. Haaa... what was your name again? All of you look the same to me anymore."

As much as he wanted to retort, defend his pride, he kept his mouth shut.

"What, not even gonna make this fun for me? You're not even giving me a fighting chance? Tch, you're just like everyone else in the big leagues." Shinsou rolled his eyes. His hands hadn't even left his pockets. "You realize how hard I had to fight just to get my spot in 1-B? ...Wait, no, of course you don't. You're just like that Todoroki guy. Born with everything you've ever wanted, while the rest of us have to fight for the scraps." His eyes narrowed. "You're pathetic. I may have teamed up with you before, but that was just to get an easy win. I know I stand no chance against you in a fight."

Not a sound escaped his lips. The sweat was beginning to dribble off of his fingers, digits twitching to set off an explosion.

"... BEGIN!"

Katsuki was off like a shot, propelled forward by his explosions and aiming right for Shinsou's face.

To his credit, the boy didn't budge an inch. With a wry smile, he remarked, "Are you sure you're aiming to be a hero, trying to get a headshot on me in the first five seconds?"

The blond's blood boiled in his veins. He stopped short of the boy, hand still suspended in the air.

"Ooh, think I touched a nerve with that one," he mused with a chuckle. "Then again, your type is so easy to rile up. All that power and yet none of the humanity? I heard about what happened at the USJ. You're awfully lucky he didn't aim further to the left."

Katsuki's hands clenched.

"I'm kinda glad I'm not All Might right now. Just imagine if you were the kid he decided to personally mentor! You're nothing like him, not at all!"

Green, empty eyes flashed in his mind.

"Sh... SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH!" He screamed, gathering more power into his hands for one final-

...

... He couldn't move.

His eyes went blank, mouth still agape as Shinsou sarcastically shook his head.

"I told you that your type is easy to rile up," he told the frozen boy with a spiteful grin as he stepped casually forward.

"Now that I've finally got you to shut up for a minute, I'll let you in on a little secret: I know what you are." His facade dropped, and his eyes bore into Katsuki's with thinly-veiled disgust as he continued, "You're just like everyone else I've ever met who's made being a top hero their entire personality. You're nothing like what a real hero ought to be. I've seen how you treat everyone else, and frankly, if that's the kind of company being in the hotshot class will get me, I'll pass. Call me a hypocrite all you want, but at least I care about my classmates, and they care about me. Monoma may be a real pain in the ass, but y'know what? He's never made me feel like I don't belong here. None of them have. That's the difference between you and I, Mr. Ten Million - I actually have friends."

Katsuki's hand twitched. The eyes of a broken boy in a wheelchair bore right back into his.

Shinsou stepped back, looked him up and down, and that infuriating leer crept back onto his face. "Now. Walk out of bounds for me, hotshot."