A/N: Surprise chapter, outta nowhere!

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"This is bullshit."

I heard a sigh coming from somewhere above my head, but I didn't feel like craning my fucking neck to look. "It's just a stretcher, Bakugo."

Wasn't like I couldn't picture exactly what kind of fucking face Ice Queen was making. "It's fucking bullshit, is what it is! I don't need a fucking stretcher!"

"Would you rather have crawled out of the arena?" She asked sarcastically.

"Yes!" I shouted. "Actually, I would! And I wouldn't have fucking had to, I stood up, didn't I?"

"And took about two steps before you almost fell over," her voice reminded me.

I rolled my eyes. "I just lost my balance for a second," I lied. So what if my legs were fucked up, I just had to walk it off. "But no, Pervy Hag just had to overreact…"

Ice Queen sighed again, like she was my fucking mom or something. Or somebody else's mom, my old hag tended to go for screaming. "Just put up with it, Bakugo. Recovery Girl-sensei's office isn't far," she nagged.

"Says the bitch who froze my legs in the first place," I snapped.

She didn't have a comeback, so I got a little peace and quiet as the robots slowly trundled my ass down the hall towards the nurse's station.

God, this was boring. "Can't you two heaps of scrap go any fucking faster?" I yelled.

"We are permitted to switch to high-speed mode in case of emergency," one of the robots said out of a tinny speaker. "Is your feeble fleshy body in significant danger of malfunction?"

"Your ass is about to be in significant danger of malfunction," I told it.

It didn't speed up.

My jaw clenched so hard my teeth started grinding together.

"Look at it this way," Ice Queen offered, her voice still coming from behind the stretcher I was stuck taking, "the sooner you get to the nurse's office, the longer you'll have to rest up before your match against Midoriya."

"Like I need it," I replied automatically. "Against fucking Deku?"

"He did beat you before," Ice Queen pointed out. I twisted around on the stretcher, lifting myself halfway off of it so I could crank my neck far enough back to see her. Irritatingly, for all that I just beat her ass like a drum, she barely even looked scuffed. Sure, her gym uniform was all scuffed up, and that long black hair of hers was disheveled, but she didn't have any bruises or anything so aside from a soot smudge here or there anybody looking at the two of us would've thought she won our fight.

I ignored the shaking in my arms as explosion-sore muscles struggled to hold me up and scowled at her. "By dumb fucking luck!" God damn, it burned to admit that Deku of all people had actually beaten me, but it's not like there was any point to lying. "He beat me when there were bullshit capture tape rules, in an enclosed space I wasn't supposed to blow up, by pulling a brand new quirk out of his ass. He ain't getting that lucky twice."

"He did make it to the final round," Ice Queen said, a hint of a smile on her face. "Be careful not to underestimate him." She paused for a beat. "Again."

"Tch." I rolled back over onto the stretcher, tired of putting a crick in my neck. "The only serious fight he had was against Round Face," I said, "if he made it to the finals after three real fights, then maybe I'd be worried. Maybe."

"Entering with patient," the robot by my feet announced. I looked down and saw the door to the nurse's office. Fucking finally.

"More like impatient," the scrap heap up by my head mumbled.

"Haaah?" I tilted my head back to glare at it. "Say that again, you bucket of bolts!"

Working together, the two robots moved me over to an empty hospital bed and tilted me onto it, sticking me between Frizzy Hair, who was resting on a bed with her arm in a sling and her wavy-haired friend for company, and a sleeping Hikigaya. "I said, 'enjoy your recuperation, meatsack," the tin can lied, "and I hope that all of your pain receptors are fully functional.'"

Almost as soon as I was off that stupid stretcher I tried to hop off the bed to go after the retreating scrap heap, but before I could move the old lady nurse was jabbing me in the chest with her cane to push me back. "Sit down, young man," she said, staring at me behind her purple visor like she was going to kill me if I didn't, "and hold still. I need to see how bad that frostbite is."

Ice Queen reached across her torso with one arm to grab her elbow and looked away from me. I rolled my eyes. "It's fine," I said in exasperation. "It barely even hurts. Hell, my arms and shoulders hurt worse than my legs, and I fucked those up throwing too many explosions myself -" As the old lady cut my pants open vertically with a pair of scissors, revealing bluish-purple blisters all up and down my shins, I let out a low whistle. "Oh, damn."

The old lady stared at my legs for a second, then looked up at me with an "I'm too old for this shit" expression on her face. "Well, you're lucky," she said matter-of-factly. "Flash freezes like this, I can handle without having to debride the area first. Which, in layman's terms, means that I won't be pumping you full of tranquilizers, scouring the dead flesh off of your bones, and then hoping that there's enough left of you that everything grows back afterwards."

I felt a sudden spike of anxiety. "Fuck tranqs, I have a finals match to get to," I said reflexively. "Wait, you just said you didn't need to do that, right?"

Recovery Girl just stared at me. After a fucking tense few seconds, she sighed in exasperation. "Your legs need to thaw out before I can heal you. I'll go get some hot towels to speed that up. DON'T. Go anywhere."

"No shit," I agreed, adding "Old Hag" under my breath once she was out of earshot.

"Bakugo, I -" Ice Queen said hesitantly.

I looked up at her, and she was staring at my legs with a stupid expression on her face. It pissed me the hell off. "Do I look like a wuss?" I asked angrily. "Do you hear me fucking bitching and moaning? If you start apologizing for putting up a halfway decent fight I'm gonna have to come over there and slap the bullshit right out of you, so don't even start."

After a second, Ice Queen's usual more-condescending-than-thou look was firmly back in place. "That would be more impressive of a threat if you could walk," she said with only the faintest tremor in her voice.

I snorted in irritation, but pointing out whose fault that was would kind of defeat the purpose, so I let her have a win for once. I mean, I already got the one that mattered.

"You should keep it down a little," Frizzy Hair said in a low voice. I turned to look at her. She was lying back in the bed with her arm in a sling, looking kind of pale. Sitting on a chair next to her, Wavy Hair from 1-B was working on cutting an apple into little rabbit-slices, her green hair falling forwards off her shoulders as she concentrated on the cuts. "Hikigaya's still sleeping," Frizzy Hair explained.

Twisting to look in the other direction, I saw that, yep, he was lying there unconscious, looking like seven shades of shit, all pale and drawn. If I didn't know how tough the bastard was I might even have worried. "Sounds about right," I snorted. "Fucker slept in after we both got stabbed, too."

"Wait, you two got stabbed?" Wavy Hair said in surprise, her mouth opening wide to reveal vaguely pointed teeth. "I heard rumors some kids from 1-A got into a fight with a villain the day before the whole USJ thing, that was you two?"

"Them, myself, and Yuigahama Yui," Ice Queen jumped in before I could say anything. "To be honest, it wasn't much of a fight; the villain was more interested in escaping than fighting."

"Yeah, because we scared the bitch off," I crowed. "She got Hikigaya with a lucky shot at the start, but after he got up we had her on the ropes. Another half a minute and we'd have had her ass." Frizzy Hair was starting to giggle for some reason, but at least Wavy Hair looked suitably impressed because the Old Hag, returning with a stack of steaming hot towels, definitely did not. She unceremoniously draped them over my frozen legs, which almost immediately started to prickle and sting, fresh pain distracting me from my aching arms and shoulders.

"Sit and let those work for a while," the Old Hag ordered. "Now as for you," she said, turning towards Ice Queen. "Sit down and let me have a look."

"I'm fine," Yukinoshita said, waving off the offer.

The Old Hag raised both eyebrows at her. "That wasn't a request. Sit."

As Ice Queen reluctantly sat and got examined, Frizzy Hair's giggles turned into full blown laughter, hard enough she was wiping tears away from her eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she said as I started glaring at her, "it's just - haha, it's just - Hikigaya of all people, fighting villains! Hilarious!"

"I'm sorry," Ice Queen said, dangerously polite. "But I somehow fail to see the humor." She almost turned to glare at Frizzy Hair, but I could see the little old lady reach up and grab her chin to make her hold still so she could check her for a concussion.

"Maybe that's cause that ain't fuckin' funny," I suggested, folding my arms. I could glare enough for the two of us.

"No, no, I didn't mean anything bad by it!" Frizzy Hair said, waving the hand that wasn't broken defensively. "It's just, like, he was completely different in middle school, you know? It's almost hard to believe he's the same guy."

"Yeah, well, people don't change over fucking night," I said, still kind of ticked off. "If you're that fucking surprised, it's because you're a moron who wasn't paying fucking attention."

Ice Queen started coughing, in the fake way you do when you're trying not to laugh. I looked over at her. Her hand over her mouth didn't quite cover up the smug smirk, and she even turned away to avoid meeting my eye for some reason. Crazy bitch. "You'll have to excuse Bakugo," she said after a second to who I belatedly noticed were a shocked-looking Wavy Hair and Frizzy Hair. "He has a limited vocabulary that he tends to make up for with volume."

My eyebrow twitched in irritation. My legs were actually really starting to hurt now that blood was moving back into the frozen bits, so who gave a shit if I was swearing? More importantly, "Bitch, you only beat me by three points in our last Modern Japanese test, so don't even start with that shit."

"Well, the test only went to a hundred points, so if we were to talk about our true margins of superiority…" Ice Queen trailed off.

I smirked despite my aching legs. "Then we should probably start talking about that match we just had, huh." Her smug look vanished.

"Hahaha, I see, I see," Frizzy Hair said with a smile. It made her look a little less wan and drawn, maybe even pretty if you liked the girl-next-door look. "If Hikigaya is hanging out with people like you two all the time, it's, like, no wonder he's so much less quiet these days."

Hikigaya, quiet? I rolled my eyes. "Wait until he wakes up and he and Ice Queen get to bickering, I don't know what you'd call it but it's certainly not fucking quiet."

Ice Queen blushed a bit, then glared at me for putting her on the spot. "Like you're one to talk? Also, I do not bicker," she said haughtily. "He's just argumentative."

"Bitch, I'm argumentative." I sneered. "You and Hikigaya bicker like a married couple."

She narrowed her eyes at me. "Oh, you're both argumentative," she agreed, deceptively calm. "It's just that Hikigaya is actually an occasional challenge."

"I- you-" I sputtered, unable to come up with an immediate comeback. But only because my legs hurt, dammit!

Frizzy Hair laughed some more. "Oh my god, that's too funny! I was as surprised as anything when I talked to Hikigaya earlier today and he was making all kinds of dry jokes, is he like that all the time now?"

"Let's just say that Bakugo is lucky they fought in a tournament instead of competing in a debate," Ice Queen said, her blue eyes dancing merrily.

I ignored that crack and looked over at Hikigaya's unconscious form in the bed next to me. "He still put up a damn hard fight," I said reluctantly. The win I got over him… still didn't feel like one, if I was being honest with myself. That had been way too fucking close. Especially since the asshole had still been holding back! "Probably would have been harder if he hadn't been such a cocky bastard," I grumbled.

"Cocky?" Frizzy's friend Wavy Hair asked, looking on with interest. "What do you mean?"

I let out a sigh of irritation. "So, Hikigaya put together this list, right? He used his quirk to figure out what everybody's quirk was, from 1-B, gen ed, anybody who he thought was a threat, and he gave it out to everybody in 1-A."

Wavy Hair's dark green eyes narrowed. "Yeah, Monoma was saying you guys had done something like that, researching us."

Who? Eh, didn't matter. "Anyway, the whole fight against me, I was waiting for Hikigaya to pull something out of his back pocket, you know? Hit me with a surprise quirk I hadn't seen before, pull out a counter, something - but as far as I could tell, every single quirk was either something he used in class before, a quirk that came from a teacher, or a quirk that was on the list." I snorted in irritation. "Like I said, cocky. Either he thought he didn't need an ace up his sleeve, or he passed out before he could use it… or he was sticking to the list he gave us on purpose, just to prove he could win even when we knew all his moves."

"Hmph." Wavy Hair said, folding her arms. She looked at Hikki with disapproval on her face. "Somehow I doubt it was because he was feeling sportsmanlike."

"Wow," I said sarcastically. "Somebody's butthurt."

Wavy Hair leaned forwards, putting both of her hands on Frizzy Hair's bedrail. "Wouldn't you be?" Wavy asked, staring at me accusingly. "Would you be happy if you got cheated out of a shot at the finals?"

"Aww, boo fucking hoo," I said, rubbing my hands exaggeratedly at my eyes. "Somebody worked harder than me, so I'm gonna call it cheating."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure convincing your whole class to gang up on everybody else together took a lot of hard work," Crybaby said sarcastically.

"You're just jealous because you didn't think of it first," I accused her confidently. "Baldy could have done the same thing as Hikigaya and researched us ahead of time, if you or Frizzy Hair had thought of it, you could have floated eyes over to spy on our training, there's all sorts of shit you could have done to check us out if you hadn't been lazy. Hell, now that I think of it, Baldy said some shit during the cavalry battle about your class running slow in the first race to scope out our powers from behind. How's that any different from what we did?" I asked. "I mean, other than being fucking weak-ass shit."

"Really?" Crybaby said, her cheeks a little flushed from my rebuke. "You don't see any difference between everybody doing their best to strategize on their own and competing with their own strength, and what your class did?"

"Sure, there's a difference," I said. I smirked. "Our way kicked your way's ass."

"I can't believe you," Crybaby said in frustration, throwing her hands up in the air.

"Are you dead?" I asked rhetorically.

Crybaby blinked, and looked at me all confused. "Say again?"

"Did you die?" I rephrased the question, "Get anybody else killed? Got any permanent injuries?"

"I-" she stammered.

I didn't bother waiting for her response and just steamrolled over her. "No? Then you'll get over it. Newsflash, Crybaby, villains are coming to kill us." I narrowed my eyes at her. "They're spying on our shit, planning for our moves, and at USJ they outnumbered us two or three to one. This was your wake-up call. Our class is done fucking around." I paused, considered Half-and-Half, and snorted in contempt. "Well, most of it is, anyway." I looked over at Hikigaya, still lying there without even fucking twitching. "Hell, I'm betting the reason this bastard is still out cold is that he's been training his ass into the ground ever since. Yo, Old Hag," I called out to the nurse, "am I right?"

The little old lady looked at me with disapproval. "Patient information is confidential," she said, "and if you're going to keep calling me that, remember that I could always find an excuse to run some blood tests." She held up a needle-capped syringe menacingly.

I wasn't scared of her… but it was probably time to find a new nickname anyway. Maybe Needle Nurse?

A silence fell. I leaned back in the bed. My legs were really starting to ache, now, prickling like fire at the surface while a deeper wrongness seemed to penetrate down into the muscle and bone. I looked around for the Old Hag who was supposed to be doing medical shit to me sometime soon, but she was flipping through what looked like medical charts, either pretending she couldn't hear us or sitting around with her fucking hearing aid turned off. Not that I blamed her, if I had one I'd take that option in a fucking heartbeat. "Hey, uh, nurse!" I shouted to get her attention, "are my legs done thawing yet?"

"Hmmm, let's take a look." The Old Hag walked over and lifted the hot towels. Beneath them, my legs were a mess. Now that the blisters were thawed, the skin that had been stretched over them was floppy and ragged, while blood and pus oozed out from holes in the skin. I felt a little lightheaded. "Yes, that looks like it will do. Mwah!"

As her lips stretched comically and she kissed the undamaged skin on my thigh, the wounds on my leg closed, the pain in my legs and arms and shoulders and everywhere else stopped, and a sudden wave of exhaustion hit me like a truck. My jaw cracked as I suddenly yawned.

"Now, this is my second time healing you today," the Old Hag said, "so fatigue is normal. You've used up a lot of your body's reserves." She held out a handful of gummy bears. "Eat. You'll feel better once you have a good night's rest or two, but this should help in the meantime."

I popped the gummies in my mouth. They were almost too sweet, with a mineral aftertaste, but I chewed them down eagerly.

Ice Queen coughed, raising one hand to cover her mouth. "Excuse me," she said, "I'm going to change into a less damaged uniform before my match with Todoroki."

"If you lose to him the same way you lost to Hikigaya during the Battle Training, I will-" Out of nowhere, a yawn took me by surprise. "-laugh," I warned.

She frowned at me. "I've learned to keep some energy held in reserve to break out of ice since then," she said. "And he'll have to hit me first."

I smirked. "See you on the winner's podium, then?"

Ice Queen's lips twitched in an attempt to keep a straight face before she sighed and closed her eyes. "I'll do my best. Try not to sleep through your match, Bakugo."

"Fuck off," I said confidently, fighting back another yawn. "I'll be fine in a second."

"Um, Yukinoshita-san," Frizzy Hair said as Ice Queen turned to go, "good luck."

Ice Queen's icy blue eyes widened with surprise, and a relieved-looking smile spread over her haughty face. "Thanks," she said, a note of surprise in her voice.

Tch. You're gonna have to get over that guilt shit, Ice Queen, I thought to myself, closing my eyes to rest them for a second. It was just a fight.

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"Young man," an aged voice said. Someone shook my knees. "Young man, wake up. It's almost time for your match."

...Fuck! The sudden jolt of adrenaline kicked the sleep right out of my head; my eyes flew open, and I forced myself to sit up.

It was kind of a struggle. Even with my blood suddenly pumping, my body felt weak and listless, like I'd just finished a long, hard run. "Yo, uh, nurse," I said, stretching my arms out and feeling the kinda sore, achy sensation in them like I'd had a serious workout the day before, "you got any more of those gummies I could have or something?"

The little old lady looked up at me, an exasperated look on her face. "You're welcome," she said dryly, "and it's Shuzenji-sensei or Recovery Girl, not 'nurse'."

Tch. "Thank you, Shuzenji-sensei," I forced out between gritted teeth. "May I please have some more of those gummies?"

She deposited a few of them in my hand and I tossed them back. They didn't taste any better than the first time. As I got off the bed, I started to stretch, limbering up my arms and legs and checking out the condition of my body. My legs mostly felt okay; I was still wearing the pants that the nurse had cut open, so I was able to stretch down and run my hand along my shins. There was still some dried blood and stuff on them, but the skin was smooth and running my hand down them was painless. The ribs that Hikigaya had busted up were still a little sore to the touch, but definitely a little less so now that the nurse used her quirk on me a second time. As for my arms, the lactic acid burn was gone, and my forearms didn't ache anymore; they just felt a little noodly, a little reluctant to exert themselves.

Could be worse. I started jumping up and down to get my heartrate up, shadowboxing the air to wake my arms up, but was quickly interrupted by an "A-hem!" from the nurse. She looked at me from the swivel chair in front of her computer. "None of that in my office, young man." She said. "If you want to warm up, go do it in the student waiting rooms. You should still have some time before they finish melting all the ice."

Belatedly, I looked up at the television on the wall, which was showing the usual mess of glaciers that were left at the end of Half-and-half's fights. "Who won?" I asked.

"That young lady you came in with," the nurse said, and I smirked in vindication. Suck it, two-face!

"Yeah, that's about what I expected," I said, before walking to the door. Just as I was about to leave, I paused. "Yo, can I borrow some gloves?"

A few minutes later, I stepped into the fighter prep room. Not only had I picked up a pair of nitrile gloves, the nurse had also reminded me to grab some pants that weren't all cut to pieces. Looking at the TV on the wall and how much ice the robots had left to melt, I didn't have a whole lot of time, but I at least had a few minutes. Time enough for some final prep. I grabbed a water bottle, stuck my hands into my pockets, and fished around until I could pull out a few of the packets of hot sauce I swiped from the cafeteria. I tore the sauce packets open with my teeth, then squeezed them all into the water bottle at once. "Ugh. Nasty-ass shit," I grumbled.

Bringing the now adulterated water bottle with me I headed to the bathroom. Aside from your usual crapper and sink, it also had a shower stall - lucky me, or I'd probably be fighting Deku with him still all covered in Round Face's vomit. I reached in and cranked the shower as high and as hot as it could go. Not because I was going to get in - sure, I didn't exactly smell like a fucking daisy right now but who the fuck cared - but because I wanted the steam. I snapped the latex gloves over my hands, took a big swig of disgusting spicy hotsauce-water, and started shadowboxing. One, two, onetwothree, punches in the mirror. Ducking, weaving, jumping in tiny hops left and right. Making my blood pump. Making myself sweat. The steam from the hot shower quickly filled the air, jacking the temperature up like my own private sauna. My hands started to feel clammy trapped in the nitrile gloves. I took another swig from the water bottle. Spice coated my mouth and my tongue, worked its way up my nasal passage, made me want to retch. Made me break out in a sweat. I drank some more.

Deku wasn't exactly a serious opponent. More like a joke boss. If this was a video game, he'd be the sort of opponent where the worst case scenario would be a semi-hard fight right up until you took his first health bar down, and then he'd turn into a demon or terrorists would attack the stadium or some shit like that. But this wasn't a fucking game, and I wasn't fucking worried about the fight. So why wasn't I taking it easy? Number one, I owed the shitty nerd some payback for the Battle Training. Number two, it was the fucking finals. Number three… even after all my prep to get myself pumped up, even after doubling up on those gummi bear things, I was still running on a half-tank of gas, tops.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the time has finally come! The finals of our first-year stage will begin in just a few! Short! Minutes!"

Not like there was shit I could do about it now. Anyway, that shitty nerd had broken his fingers a couple of times already today, so it wasn't like he was gonna be in good shape, either. I headed for the entrance to the arena, stripping off the gloves I was wearing and dumping them into a metal trash can as I left the room. As the door closed behind me, I heard the muffled boom of an explosion.

Yeah. Six fucking weeks was long enough.

It was time to reclaim my crown as Number One.

As I stepped out into the sunlight, the crowd roared. That's right you shitty extras, make some god damned noise! "FROM THE LEFT SIDE, STILL GOING STRONG AFTER A FEW NARROW VICTORIES, CLASS 1-A's BAKUGO KATSUKI!" I wasn't the kind of dumb fuck who would wave at the crowd, but then again I didn't need to be. All I had to do was walk forward like I owned the place and the cheers just kept getting louder.

"VERSUS!" My eyes focused on that familiar shitty nerd. As usual, he had no fucking spine. He was looking nervously at the crowds like he had stage fright, he was hunched over a little instead of standing with his back straight, and generally looked fucking pathetic. The crowd cheered and shouted for him too, ignorant fucks. It wasn't until he looked at me that he even showed a little bit of self-respect, and while I'd give him five points for not backing down he lost about a hundred and five for not knowing his fucking place. "ON THE RIGHT, CLASS 1-A's MIDORIYA IZUKU! HE TOOK FIRST PLACE IN THE OBSTACLE RACE AND THE CAVALRY BATTLE! WILL HE GO THREE FOR THREE TODAY?"

Like fuck he would. "End of the line, you useless nerd," I growled.

"Kacchan." As the Pervy Hag was about to raise her leather whip thingy to start the match, Deku called out that stupid fucking nickname he gave me when we were kids. I really didn't want to listen to his bullshit, but the Pervy Hag was the type to let people have 'dramatic talks before the final fight' or whatever and was letting him finish so it wasn't like I had a fucking choice. "Ever since we were kids, I've always looked up to you," he said. "I admired you for how hard you worked, how you never lost sight of your goals."

Like fuck you did. You've been looking down on me from the start, even when you had nothing and I had everything. Who the fuck do you think you're putting on this performance for? Hoping long-ears will repeat everything you say and make you look like a golden boy in front of the rest of the class? I kept my mouth shut, grinding my teeth a little as my fingers flexed in irritation.

"But, today, I'm going to beat you," he continued. I rolled my eyes as he put up his fists. Dream on, you shitty nerd. Are you done yet? "You see," he continued, "I don't have a choice. Not if I want to be Number One. Today, I'm going to tell the world."

"I am here."

I saw red. I came within a few fucking inches of ignoring the Pervy Hag and starting the fight right there and then. "Number One? You?" I growled, my face twisting up in a snarl of rage. "You think you deserve that title? Let me just remind you, the Obstacle Race? You won with Hikigaya's help. The Cavalry Battle? Your first-choice picks carried you through everything, especially because, oh yeah, Hikigaya's fucking plan meant I couldn't rip that headband right off your fucking head. Your first fight? Hikigaya's info. Your last fight? Half-and-half was holding back. 'You are here?' You useless fucking nerd, you don't know what Number One even fucking means!"

Deku rocked back, about to come up with some kind of response, but I ignored him and yelled at the Pervy Hag. "Start the fight. I said start the fight, goddammit!"

The Pervy Hag licked her lips like she was enjoying watching us and raised her whip. Pitching her voice to carry, she said the magic words. "Final round match! Start!"

I hit the shitty nerd like a god damn freight train. Part of me had been thinking before the match about how to deal with the fact that the loser had been watching me fight and knew how I moved, but I officially no longer gave a damn. I opened the fight with my trusty right haymaker, and watched him spend about half a second too long wondering if it was a bluff or a real hit to be able to actually block it. Too late, he started dodging, which was right about when I flexed my fingers and set off the accumulated sweat I'd saved up on my palm. Orange fire roared forth, and Deku hit the fucking floor.

"Eat shit!" I shouted, throwing a follow-up with my left, but the little green rat scurried away on all fours just in time for my explosion to shatter cement instead of flesh and bone. Still, while he was airborne, he wasn't dodging, so I crouched down with both my hands low to the ground and blastjumped.

I rocketed forwards until I was next to and a little bit above him, perfect for wrapping his stomach around my leg. It was like kicking a sandbag, only a hell of a lot more satisfying as the air wheezed out of his lungs. "You really think you're as good as me?" I snarled. "You think you're the next All Might, just because you got a shitty strength quirk?"

The two of us started falling together towards the ground, so I pulled my other leg up to stomp him off of me. For a second it looked like the fight was over, like he was too winded to even catch himself as he fell to the ground, but suddenly I noticed that he wasn't even bothering to try. Instead of extending backwards to absorb some of his impact with the ground, Deku's right arm was stretched out towards me, finger and thumb set up to flick the air, his other arm bracing it.

"Fu -" I had just enough time to shout and put my arms up to block before the useless nerd hit me with a fucking hurricane. It was like being in a god damn laundry machine set to the fucking spin cycle and then shot out of a cannon, and if I hadn't been a fucking genius with hours upon hours of practice flying with my quirk it probably would have tossed me out of the arena and into the stands.

RPYV, motherfucker; roll, pitch, yaw, velocity. It took me just two explosions to make the ground and sky stop trading places. For the first I stuck my arm out to the right, palm into the wind caused by the spin. Exploded. Ignored the strain in the shoulder, the pec, focused on the next step, stopping the forward roll. Both arms out in front like Frankenstein for leverage, I exploded again. Just like doing a backflip in the pool, right down to the fire in the muscles running down my back. Half practice, half instinct, to get the explosions the right size to slow down the spin instead of reversing it. My arms being strong enough to handle the burn? That was all practice.

Practice that paid off, because I managed to recover in time to notice I was going out of bounds. Any longer recovering, and I would have been halfway to the stands; I didn't know if the Pervy Hag actually would have ended the fight for that before I touched the ground but I sure as hell didn't want to find out. "You shitty... fucking... nerd!" I shouted as I rocketed back towards the center of the arena, coming in high enough that I was looking down on Deku from above.

He had his hand out, still braced, still aimed in my direction. Another finger ready to go. "I'm not just someone you can push around anymore, Kacchan!" He shouted up at me.

I dove for Deku headfirst, using explosions to fall even faster than I would with gravity alone. "You think that finger breaking trick of yours scares me?" I shouted as I fell. A tiny voice in the back of my head reminded me that I would be a very messy pancake if I fucked this up, but I told it to shut the fuck up and pulled my arms forward. As the shitty nerd's arm snapped up to try to track me, I tensed my shoulders and flexed my fingers. The backblast of my explosion slowed me down a bit, slamming into my shoulders like somebody dropped a forty, fifty kilo bar on them. I followed it up, quick as I could, with a second blast that knocked me to the left just in time to get out of the way of a massive column of air.

"You blinked!" I jeered. Another series of explosions, blow after blow rattling up through my palms and into my arms, and I stuttered back up into the sky. Here I was, the finals of the entire sports festival, and I was playing chicken with a goddamn chicken. "How many more fingers you gonna break, Deku?"

I turned around and dove again. This time I zig-zagged my way down, bouncing left and right to keep him from drawing a bead on me. He held his fire, maybe because he thought I was just trying to bait him into breaking another finger, so once I got close enough I suddenly accelerated until I was directly above him and stomped down with both feet onto his shoulders. He faceplanted into the cement, and I used the motion to start my jump back into the sky. "Too slow!"

The first time I dove at him I caught Deku by surprise. The second time I proved he couldn't afford not to attack me. So for my third pass I didn't bother with the zig-zags and just went at him straight on. I knew he was going to try to hit me with a finger break. He knew I would be able to dodge it if I saw it coming. It was just a question of who flinched first, and whose reflexes were better. The closer we were to each other, the less time I had to dodge, and the less time he had to pull the trigger. This game of chicken was for keeps.

And as I watched his stupid, trembling, panicky face, the same face he always made when he went up against me, I could see the very second when he finally found a pair and took his shot.

My dodge was just in time, and I still caught the fringes of his finger-flick on just the right half of my body. Despite being a glancing blow it was still enough to put me into another dizzying tailspin, this one way closer to the ground than the last time. I didn't panic. Diving lessons at the pool, gymnastics classes at a private gym, I'd trained for this shit, unlike the shitty nerd who never trained for anything! My shoulders screamed as I compensated for the spin, but I just drowned them out with my scream of rage. "Fucking Diiiiee!" Howling like a madman, so dizzy I could barely see straight, I rocketed myself directly at Deku. That hurricane trick of Deku's took time for him to set up, time to aim, and time for him to recover after, and I sure as fuck wasn't going to give him any of it! Deku, off balance from the recoil of his finger flick, only made it halfway to facing me by the time my flying fist connected with the side of his face.

I felt something crack as I hit, but with my adrenaline up I couldn't tell if it was his teeth or my hand. The punch lifted him off of his feet, and he flew backwards; I started to chase but I didn't get more than a step or two before I stumbled. It felt like the ground was moving beneath my feet; if I took too many more of those spins, Deku wouldn't even have to touch me to beat me because I'd be too busy throwing up. Beyond that, my shoulders were on fire, I was dripping with sweat, and I was literally panting for breath, because goddamn flying was an upper body workout. I was gonna have to finish the nerd on the ground.

Despite my fatigue I exploded forward. Or maybe I should say because of it; underneath the adrenaline I felt the shakiness of my muscles and knew I had to finish things fast. It was funny as shit, though. I suddenly heard myself laughing. "I told myself I was done with kiddy shit like fucking with you for fun," I said, using an explosion to launch a backhand across Deku's jaw, "but look at me, beating the crap out of you like I've been practicing for it all my life!" I rained punches down on Deku, using explosions to add some pop to the end of palm strikes, mixing in knees and elbows just to keep him guessing. He turtled in, guarding his face with both his arms, ducking and weaving to dodge as best he could. "Hear that Deku? Three years of middle school I've been training for these fucking finals!"

Deku didn't go down. Even when I punched his broken fingers, he didn't go down. "Yeah?" Midoriya said, his voice hoarse with pain. He looked up at me with determined eyes, and started giving off sparks of green light. "That's funny, because I've got three years of practice taking your hits!" He shouted. "And guess what, I've had enough!"

For once in his worthless life, Deku actually punched back. Too bad for him it was clumsy as shit. I immediately used his arm as a fulcrum to throw him over my shoulder, dropping him back-first onto the pavement behind me. I smirked. "Heh. If I were you, I would have practiced actually throwing hits!" I turned and stepped on Deku's neck while still holding the arm, getting ready to pull his shoulder out of his socket and end the fight, but my eyes went wide as I saw that his hand wasn't clenched into a fist anymore. It was poised in a finger-flick.

I threw myself to one side but the wind caught me and tossed me anyway, my body creaking as it was whipped around like a rag doll. My neck and back were screaming in pain, and I caught a bad case of road rash and a fuckton of bruises from the landing as I rolled half the arena away from Deku. As I picked myself up and spat out the dust, though, I noticed that Deku wasn't in much better shape from his own attack. He stood clumsily, like he was trying to use his arms as little as possible. Had he hurt himself by not being able to brace his arm for the recoil? If so…

"That's it. You're fucking through," I growled. Slowly, I walked towards Deku. Partly it was for the intimidating effect, but if I was being honest it was more because I needed the extra time to try to catch my breath. My hands felt like lead weights at the end of my arms, and my hands were shaking almost too badly to control an explosion, but I was still better off than Deku. He had just one hand that could even sort of make a fist, and it was full of broken fingers; his other arm hung uselessly at his side.

As I closed in on him Deku shifted, getting close to the boundary of the arena so that I couldn't approach him from his useless side. "I'm not going down without a fight," he said, doing his best to keep staring at me despite the massive bruise that was starting to squeeze his eye closed.

As I closed in I sped up and forced myself into a sprint, heading straight for Deku. If he was going to set it up so I could knock him out of the arena, I certainly didn't mind doing it! Shouting wordlessly in victory I feinted an explosion then kicked him right in the chest, sending him backpedaling to keep his feet. It should have knocked him all the way out of the arena, but my legs were like jelly. Still, he stopped just inches from the arena's corner with nowhere to go. If doing it once didn't work, then I'd just have to do it twice! I charged again. Deku's eyes were wide, full of fear, and I could see that he knew the same thing I did. He was going to lose.

Deku threw a last, desperate kick covered with green sparks - and frankly? It was ugly as shit, completely predictable, and the fact that he didn't get his hips into it meant that even despite his super strength I knew I could stop it. "You're gonna have to learn to fight first you shitty nerd!" I shouted in exultant victory. My exhausted arms screamed as they wrapped around his leg, cushioning the blow. For such a shitty kick, it was stronger than it looked, but even though my arms couldn't stop it entirely all I had to do was take a couple steps to absorb the momentum and then his leg was mine. "Learn to throw a fucking kick, moron!" His arms flailed wildly as he tried to recover his balance, but there was no stopping me now. A victorious smile spread across my face, and I set my feet and got ready to heave him out of the arena -

"Winner! Midoriya Izuku!"

What?

How?!

I fucking had him!

Suddenly I noticed that Deku was staring at my feet, his eyes lighting up with joy.

In total disbelief, my heart sinking, I looked.

My right foot was outside of the arena.

I had him, that shitty fucking nerd was completely fucked with his leg in my grip, and my FUCKING FOOT was outside of the arena! Of all the stupid fucking LUCKY BULLSHIT!

As the crowd erupted with cheers, I just fucking lost it, shoving Deku's leg backwards as hard as I could and knocking him on his ass. Pervy Hag shouted something about poor sportsmanship or whatever but I ignored it. I couldn't understand it over the crowd cheering for fucking Deku anyway. I turned my back on the two of them and started stomping off the field, trying to ignore the cheers and shouts of the audience. My teeth ground against each other, my fingernails dug into the palms of my hands, but I just kept going.

As soon as I was out of sight of the audience I punched the wall as hard as I could, over and over again, not caring if I split my knuckles on the cement. It didn't help. I took a deep breath and screamed. "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!"

108*108*108*108*108*108*108*108*108*108*108*108*108*108*108*108

My eyes opened. I was staring into a harsh fluorescent light. "Another unfamiliar ceiling," I muttered, mostly for the sake of actually being able to use that quote. My head felt fuzzy, and my mouth was as dry as a desert, but as I slowly pushed myself up to a sitting position I realized it wasn't such an unfamiliar ceiling after all - it was just the nurse's office. Instinctively I checked my pockets for my phone to see what time it was, but I still hadn't gotten it back from my locker. There was no clock on the wall in immediate view either - but there was a television, which was showing the closing ceremonies of the Sports Festival. Midoriya, Bakugo, and Yukinoshita were standing on the first, second, and third place podiums, looking overwhelmed, incredibly pissed, and impassive respectively. "Oh, right." I mumbled, remembering a sudden expanse of blue sky. "I lost."

"Awake, are we?" Shuzenji-sensei's voice asked. "How are you feeling?" She stepped over from behind a curtain, pulling out one of those flashlights doctors use to check your ears and shining it right in my eyes, probably to see if I had a concussion. "Any pain anywhere?"

I flexed my fingers and toes experimentally. My whole body felt like it had been wrung out to dry and had an exhausted dull ache to it, but other than that it was mostly fine - with one exception. "... A headache," I said honestly. "And I feel like crap."

Shuzenji-sensei's mouth turned down into a disapproving frown. "Hikigaya-shonen, I need to ask you a few questions."

For a brief second, I wondered if All Might's quirk had some sort of tell-tale medical signature and the fact that I stole a copy from him was about to be exposed, but even as I thought about it I realized that I was too tired to give that possibility the panic that it deserved. "Sure," I said dully. "Mind if I have some water first?"

Wordlessly, she handed me a plastic cup full of ice water, only two-thirds full. Even then, I still almost spilled as my hand shook a bit taking it. After I took a few careful sips, Shuzenji-sensei pulled out a clipboard and a pen. "Hikigaya-san, how much do you eat on a daily basis?"

That wasn't exactly the question I had been expecting. "Uh, a lot," I said. "Probably five or six meals a day, plus snacks wherever I can fit them in. I've been using a digestion quirk I copied to make sure I get enough…"

"And what are you eating?" She asked.

"Uh. Just about everything?" I said, still a little confused where this conversation was going. "Lots of extra protein, but also a lot of everything else."

Her eyebrows rose a fraction of a centimeter. "Do you know what's using that many calories?"

"Yeah, I've been using a muscle building quirk together with -" flashbacks of the conversation I had with Recovery Girl-sensei the last time I was seriously injured popped into my head, and I winced. "- uh, my regeneration quirk. It, uh, it's been really helping me get stronger faster."

"I see." If anything, her voice got drier. "And, why did you decide that this was a safe way to train? Did you seek out a quirk counselor's advice beforehand, perhaps? Speak with a doctor to make sure there weren't any potential health issues that could pop up doing this?"

So you're saying that copying the quirk combinations that a mad scientist used to design a biological weapon to kill All Might might not be safe? … I didn't say out loud, because while apparently I was a moron I wasn't suicidal. "...No," I said instead, my face getting hot with embarrassment. "I just figured it out on my own."

Shuzenji-sensei closed her eyes and exhaled slowly through her nose in utter exasperation. "Do you think that you maybe should have?"

"I, uh…" I stammered.

"So, let's talk about what's actually happening to your body, shall we?" Shuzenji-sensei said, looking down at the clipboard. "When you were brought into my office, you had a blood glucose level of 39. Under 80 is enough to start showing symptoms of hypoglycemia. Under 40, and you risk a whole host of symptoms such as disorientation, seizure, coma…" I swallowed hard. She looked my body up and down. "Your body fat percentage is also much lower than it should be. I don't have the equipment to check immediately on hand, but I'd wager that you're under five percent, which is where you start having problems with osteoporosis, mind fog, and heart arrhythmias."

"Oh," I said. "Shit."

"Yes. Shit." Recovery Girl-sensei said. "I'd wager that your muscle growth has slowed down lately? The training's been less effective?"

I nodded wordlessly.

"That's because your body fat is so low that you're starting to cannibalize your own muscles in order to meet your body's energy requirements. Or, in layman's terms… you're literally starving." Shuzenji-sensei stared at me like she was trying to read my mind. "Hikigaya. You're not the first student to come into my office with problems like these. Tell me honestly. Are you deliberately trying to lose weight? Trying to 'look like a hero'? Just trying to look skinny?"

Oh god, she thought I was dieting. I shook my head, my face feeling even hotter. "No way, absolutely not. I just - I just didn't know."

There was a long pause, and then she sighed. "Okay." She met my eyes squarely, commanding my attention. "Here's what's going to happen, young man. You are not going to use that healing quirk or that muscle building quirk for any reason other than a life-threatening emergency until I tell you that it is safe to do so. You are going to eat normally in case that digestion quirk of yours isn't working the way that you think it is, until we run some tests to find out one way or another. You also are going to come to my office for daily blood tests, so I can make sure that you haven't done any permanent damage to your liver or your kidneys. And you are going to set up a meal plan with Lunch Rush. In return, if your weight comes up, I won't be recommending your immediate expulsion from the hero program for medical reasons. Do we understand each other? Am I clear?"

I swallowed heavily. "Crystal."

She continued glaring, not letting me look away. "As I understand it you have the ability to copy quite a few quirks, so let me be less specific - as long as you are on probation, you are to avoid using any quirks with a heavy metabolic cost. I'm explicitly thinking of Yaoyorozu-san's Creation quirk from your class, but you should be able to extrapolate. And for that matter, you should also avoid additional mundane exercise outside of what's required for your classwork. You need fat, not just muscle."

"Yes, ma'am." I said, "I promise. I'll be careful."

Finally, Shuzenji-sensei smiled. "Good." She stuck out her hand, revealing a familiar sight. "Eat a gummy."

I took it and chewed it mechanically. After a little bit, Recovery Girl also passed me a replacement shirt and jersey, which I put on equally automatically. My head was swimming, my thoughts going in wild circles. How had I screwed up my body so badly, so fast? Did Zaimokuza ever have problems like these? How was I going to stock my quirks without using Kawasaki's quirk to sleep efficiently?

... If I'd paid more attention to my health, could I have beaten Bakugo? No, wait, why was I bothering to think about that in the first place?

"Ahem." After a while, Shuzenji-sensei coughed to get my attention. "Young man, are you feeling well enough to receive visitors?"

"Uh, sure, I guess?" I said. My body was still sore, but the headache had diminished to a dull throbbing, and with the gummy hitting my bloodstream I was starting to perk up a little bit.

Shuzenji-sensei stepped out and spoke to someone outside the door in the hallway. Suddenly, the sliding door flew open with a bang! "Oniiiiiiii-saaaaaaan!" A familiar voice shouted, and my eyes widened in surprise.

"Komachi?" I sat up a little bit more in the bed, trying to look a little bit less feeble as my sister barrelled into the room without any signs of slowing down.

"Onii-san there was an imposter pretending to be you! He was on stage and everything! I knew it wasn't the real you though, because he actually looked pretty cool!" With sparkling eyes and a relieved smile, Komachi blew into the sterile recovery ward like a breath of fresh air.

I nodded mock-sagely. "Oh, as expected of my sister, to have spotted the fake right away. And? Did you find a hero to arrest him?"

Komachi stuck out her tongue from one corner of her mouth and rapped her knuckles against her skull with a 'tee-hee' expression. "Eh, I thought about it, but it turned out he was actually improving your reputation so I decided to leave him be." Her blue-grey eyes dimmed with concern as her face got more serious. "How are you feeling?"

I made a show of stretching out my arms, pushing my fingers into a reverse bridge, tugging my arms across my chest one at a time - not that I knew what I was doing when it came to stretching, but I'd at least watched a sports anime once or twice. "A little stiff, but otherwise fine," I lied, before reaching out to tousle Komachi's hair. "Don't worry. Recovery Girl-sensei does good work."

Komachi swatted away my hand. "I thought you were gonna sleep through the rest of the festival! You practically did!" she said, sniffing a little and wiping at her eyes. "Jeez, as soon as you lost, you just went right back to being lazy, didn't you?"

I pushed down the sick guilty feeling in my stomach and squinted at her. "It's called a rational use of limited resources," I said in a dry monotone, deeper than my normal voice. Komachi didn't get the joke, of course, but I could swear I heard a muffled snort of laughter from Recovery Girl-sensei. "It's a legitimate hero strategy, just ask my homeroom teacher," I continued. I didn't get a second laugh, but I did notice that the nurse had turned away, as if to hide a smile.

"Ehhhh…" Komachi said doubtfully.

"So, not that I'm not happy to see you, but how'd you even manage to get in here, anyway?" I asked. "I didn't think they were letting people who weren't registered pro heroes backstage."

"Oh, yeah, it was tough. I had to have a student vouch for me and show them my ID and stuff and wait, like, forever." Komachi pouted.

"It was really only a few minutes, Komachi-san," a voice suddenly called out from the doorway of the clinic. "Congratulations on making it to the top eight, onii-san!" I looked up to see a pair of Kawasomethings, the taller of whom was standing awkwardly by the doorway while the shorter one smiled and waved.

Geh. It was a cockroach. I didn't want to be related to an insect! "You're at Jakku Middle with Komachi, aren't you Kawasaki-kun? You can just call me senpai," I said a little fatuously. I tried to catch Komachi's eye so I could make a 'look at how cool your brother is now that he can say lines like that' face, but she glaring at The Bug instead of paying attention to me.

"Yes! Senpai!" The cockroach said, its turquoise eyes sparkling. It gave off an open, honest, refreshing feeling that was somehow incredibly irritating.

I coughed awkwardly. "So, uh, you must have helped my sister get in past security, right?" I said to the tall girl with silver hair still waiting by the door. "Thanks. It must have been tough."

Kawasaki Saki waved off my thanks and blushed, looking to the side rather than meet my gaze. I noticed that she wasn't in her Angel Armor anymore, and had changed into casual clothes. It was a simple outfit, just a white tee and blue jeans, but it went well with her fair complexion. "I- um- I mean, it wasn't that hard," she stammered. "Power Loader-sensei knows me pretty well because of how often I stay late at school, you know?" One of Kawasaki's fingers rose to twirl her silver hair around her finger as I kept looking at her. "Anyway, when I asked him he was nice enough to bend the rules a bit, that's all."

For some reason, I found myself blushing as well. To take my mind off of my embarrassment, I eyed my sister suspiciously. "I- I mean, even if it wasn't hard," I said, "I somehow have the feeling that you averted a major catastrophe by doing it, so…" I trailed off as Kawasaki Saki finally looked at me, her light purple eyes peeking out timorously from behind long eyelashes. "Thanks, really," I finished lamely.

For a second, there was an incredibly awkward silence. Thankfully, my sister was always there to pick up the slack in the conversation department. "Oniii-chaaan," Komachi whined. "Come on, I'm not that bad. I'm not dumb enough to pick a fight with Heroes!" As she said that, the cockroach suddenly got a distant, shellshocked expression on his face. Forgive me, Kawasaki Taishi-san. Your sacrifice was not in vain.

"Yeah, yeah," I acknowledged, tousling Komachi's unruly hair once again. She grumbled in irritation but didn't actually push my hand away this time. "So, what happened after I got knocked out?" I asked, pinning the blame for my collapse firmly on Bakugo for the moment. "Apparently Midoriya won the whole thing?"

After a brief babble where everyone talked at once, I got the major gist of things. Todoroki had refused to use his fire and lost twice because of it, Bakugo had been too beaten up by Yukinoshita and I to fight his final match at full power, and Midoriya had scraped his way to the top after a lucky break. A brief flicker of suspicion made me wonder if the school's staff had been secretly encouraged to rule in Midoriya's favor by All Might, but with so many unrelated pro heroes watching that really didn't seem likely.

"Ahem." As the three of them were filling me in, Recovery Girl-sensei interrupted us. "Well, Hikigaya-san, you seem energetic enough. If you're feeling up to it, would you mind returning to your classroom to collect your belongings and heading home? I need to start breaking down the festival clinic and moving my supplies back to my permanent office." She turned and gave Komachi a grandmotherly smile. "You seem to be a reliable young lady, can I count on you to make sure your brother gets home safely?"

Komachi's eyes sparkled, and she snapped to attention with a salute. "Yes, ma'am! You can count on me!" I eyed her dubiously. What part of that looks reliable to you, Recovery Girl-sensei?

Nevertheless, she was right about one thing - it was time for me to go. Groaning, I heaved myself out of the hospital bed. "Sorry for keeping you late," I apologized.

"Oh, don't you worry, dear." Recovery Girl said with a reassuring smile. "I tend to expect it on days like today. If it wasn't you, it would have been somebody else." Suddenly, her eyes narrowed as she handed me a manila folder full of a few sheets of paper, and I felt a chill go down my back. "Don't go forgetting what we talked about, young man. I've printed the instructions out just in case."

I took the folder gingerly. "Thank you, sensei," I said, meek as a mouse.

As Komachi, the Kawasakis and I all left the recovery station, Komachi looked at me - or more specifically the manila folder I was holding - with curiosity. "Instructions?" she asked.

Crap. I should have known Komachi wouldn't let that slide. "Yeah," I said, "basically, she wants me to take it easy for the next few days." Seeing Komachi's continued suspicious stare, I rapidly flailed about for a suitable change of conversation topic. "Not that she had to tell me twice, after today I plan on doing nothing but eating and sleeping for like a week straight. What about you, Kawasaki-san?"

"I, um." Kawasaki Saki again started turning a little bit pink. "Uh, yeah. Same. I mean, not really with the sleep, exactly, but. Yeah. I'm not, um, planning on doing much." She paused a second. "Yet, I mean."

Normally, insincere platitudes like the words "maybe we should hang out sometime" were ones that I knew better than to take at face value. The nebulous existence of "sometime" was just enough to give a social outcast hope that an event would take place in the future, while still being vague enough that it made no firm commitments on the speaker. As such, nine times out of ten, "sometime" never occurred. Long experience with the word "sometime" had led me to conclude that when making plans it was completely and totally devoid of all meaning, and to avoid getting my hopes up accordingly.

Evidently, that was a lesson that Kawasaki Saki had not yet learned, because even someone like me could tell that she had taken my offhand comment about hanging out a week or so ago to heart. The real question was, how had she taken it? Did she think that I was hitting on her? Was she nervous that I was about to ask her out on a date despite barely knowing her? Or had she taken it innocently, and now if I didn't say anything she would feel like I was going back on my word? As we walked up the hill through the festival booths outside the arena towards the school building, I realized belatedly that I had to say something. "Oh, uh, good," I stammered.

Good? Really? Was "good" the best you could come up with, mouth?

Still blushing, Kawasaki looked away, apparently checking out a stall in the process of being torn down. "You, uh.. Wanted to ask some questions about your costume, right?" She asked. "We should swap phone numbers in case you have like a question or something, or you wanted to meet up to like discuss and stuff, I mean just let me know and I can bring my sketchbook and I can show you a couple of designs I've been working on… um, yeah. Anyway."

No! Calm down, brain! Just because an attractive girl is asking you for your phone number doesn't mean she's interested in you for anything other than a clothes mannequin! "Sure thing," I said shakily, trying not to sound too excited. I reached for my pocket habitually before my sudden elation turned into frustration. "Crap, my phone's still in my locker…"

"Ooh, I know!" Komachi said. "Why don't you and I trade numbers, Saki-san?" she suggested helpfully. "Then I can send you his contact info and send him yours. Plus, sometimes he leaves his phone on silent by accident, so if you're ever trying to get a hold of him in a hurry and he doesn't say anything you can just text me!"

I was torn between glaring at Komachi and giving her a huge thumbs-up as Kawasaki held out her phone for RFID data transfer. Instead, I just focused on walking as the four of us joined in at the back of all the other kids walking up to the school to get their regular clothes out of their lockers. The hill leading up to the school building hadn't seemed nearly so long when I was walking down it to get to the arena, but the seeming weight of my arms and legs made the ascent feel like it was multiple kilometers long instead of its true maybe half of one. Even at the slow pace we took up the hill I was sweating and breathing harder than normal by the time we got to the top of the hill, and I didn't miss the concerned look in my sister's eyes as she continued filling me in on all of the 'cool stuff' I had missed.

Finally we arrived at the school gate, long after the majority of the other students had already trickled inside. "Ne, Saki-san, Taishi-kun, do you want to take the train back with us?" Komachi asked. "It probably won't take you too long to get your stuff out of your locker, right nii-san?"

Kawasaki made a troubled face. "Oh, um… I actually have everything from my locker already," she said, "and our parents actually texted a little bit ago saying they were waiting nearby to give me an' Taishi a ride back home, so…"

"No worries," I said, cutting Komachi off in case she tried to talk them into ditching their parents in order to take the train. "Um, thank you for looking after Komachi for me," I said hastily, "I'm… really sorry for holding you up." Damn. That was another one I owed her. I suddenly found something very interesting about my shoelaces as I said, "I'll, uh… I'll treat you to a meal as thanks. If you want."

As I looked up I saw that Kawasaki had apparently noticed the same thing. "Yeah! I mean, you know, sure, whatever. That sounds fine. I'll, uh, let you know when I'm free?"

"Sure," I said, looking at her blushing face.

"Okay," she said, looking back at mine.

"Okay," I said.

There was an awkward silence.

Komachi coughed. "Well, see you later Taishi-kun! Nice meeting you, Saki-san! Hey, onii-san, can you give me a tour of the school building? I wanna see your classroom!"

"Well, since they let Kawasaki-san take you into the infirmary, it'll probably be fine?" I said. "Uh, yeah, anyways… see you later!" I said with a wave.

Kawasaki and her brother gave little waves of their own and turned around, heading for the street. I watched them go for a second, taking deep slow breaths to get my heart to stop palpitating at a hundred kilometers an hour.

"So, are you sure you're not the imposter?" Komachi asked, rudely breaking my reverie. "Because I never had to worry about strange women stealing my real onii-san away before."

"To talk about costumes!" I said defensively. Then I raised my eyebrows at her. "You're one to talk," I accused her, "you seem pretty close to Taishi-kun there," I said, exaggerating the suffix she'd just used. "Is there something going on that I should be telling mom and dad about?"

"What? No way!" Komachi immediately denied. "We're just friends. Now come on, let's go already!" With that, she pushed open the doors to UA.

As I contemplated what combination of quirks I would need to build roach motels - Cement and Acid, maybe? - I more or less tuned out Komachi's oohing and aahing at the shiny corridors of UA. It seemed that either Saki's request to Power Loader-sensei had been passed along to the other teachers, or Komachi's cuteness was enough that the teachers decided she couldn't possibly be a threat, because nobody stopped us as we headed through the hallways towards my classroom. It was oddly peaceful, walking through the empty corridors with my sister.

And then we turned a corner. "Holy crap," Komachi whispered. "That's Endeavor."

It was, and he looked pissed. He was storming down the hallway towards us, flames blazing high enough off of his shoulders and mask that I almost wondered if he was going to scorch the ceiling tiles. After a second, I noticed that Todoroki Shoto was trailing several steps behind him, stone-faced, looking like he didn't want to be following his father but didn't have a choice in the matter either. Instinctively, I took a couple steps to the side to get out of his way.

Komachi looked at me, a question in her eyes. Do you have his quirk, they were asking.

I shook my head minutely, but reached out to try to tug her away from him. Unfortunately, my little sister had super strength, so even if I hadn't been exhausted I doubt I would have been able to hold her back.

"Excuse me, Endeavor-sama?" Komachi asked brightly, putting on her most adorable and charming smile. "I'm a huge fan! Could I pleeeeease get an autograph?" Miraculously, from somewhere in Komachi's jacket, a notebook and pen appeared.

Endeavor glowered. For a second, it seemed like he was about to say no, but suddenly a voice called out from further down the corridor. "I'm sure he'd love to," it declared. Yukinoshita Haruno, aka Campestris, aka 'that fake hero trying to poach students for shady internships who turned out to be not as fake as expected', emitted a blinding megawatt smile. To the side, in her shadow, I saw Yukinoshita Yukino, who gave me a much more awkward but much more genuine smile as a hello. "And I'd be happy to do the same, especially for a sibling of one of Shoto-kun's classmates."

"Ah! Campestris-sama!" Komachi shouted, her enthusiasm suddenly no longer faked. "I actually live in Chiba! A hometown hero! This is so cool!"

Endeavor grunted in irritation and held out his hand. "Here," he barked gruffly.

Seeing my chance, I took the pen and paper from the distracted Komachi and handed them to Endeavor, focusing as hard as I could on trying to swipe his quirk. I only managed to touch his finger for the briefest of split-seconds, but that was enough. The quirk of the second-best hero in Japan was mine. As I finished giving the paper away my guilty conscience prompted me to look over at Todoroki Shoto to see if he would warn his father about my power copying the same way that he warned his cousin. He was watching me, and had a frustrated expression on his face, but ultimately he didn't say a thing.

As Komachi took the paper back from Endeavor and thanked him appropriately, I walked forward a bit until I was standing within conversational distance of Yukinoshita. "Congratulations on getting third place," I said quietly, not wanting to interrupt my sister's fangirling over her sister.

"Thank you," she replied, before looking at me with a combination of concern and what looked oddly like guilt. "Are you feeling okay?" she asked. "Recovery Girl-sensei wouldn't tell us anything about what was wrong with you, she just said you needed rest."

I shrugged. "I'll be fine," I said, "just need a few days to rest and heal up."

"I see…" Yukinoshita trailed off. "Then, I'll see you when class resumes?"

"Yeah." I said awkwardly. "See you later, then, I guess."

As Komachi finished collecting her signatures and bounced excitedly back to me, I couldn't help but keep turning my head backwards towards the departing Pro Heroes and their younger relatives. For people who had made it to the semi-finals, neither Todoroki's slumped shoulders nor the guilty way in which Yukinoshita was wrapping her arms around her torso particularly looked like they were happy about how the day had turned out.

As it turned out, neither was the rest of the school. As Komachi and I walked through the corridors together towards my classroom, people from the other first-year classrooms started passing us from the other direction. There were quite a few of the non-hero students who looked at me with envy or exasperation, and a few who broke into whispered conversations as I passed. Out of curiosity, I attuned Jirou's Earjack quirk to try to make out what they were saying.

"...seriously, what even was the point of us being there?"

"...damn glory hogs…"

"...bet he thinks he's so great…"

"...cheating 1-A bastard, we'll show them next time…"

"...damn riajuu thinks he's some kind of Casanova or something…"

"...yeah, I got knocked out in the quarterfinals. No, no, it's okay, onii-san, your work's obviously more important. Of course! I'm looking forward to interning with you next week!"

That voice was one I actually recognized, that of Iida Tenya. He wasn't exactly being quiet as he spoke to his brother - that made a full twenty percent of my class that was related to pro heroes, so I guessed nepotism was alive and well in UA's faculty - but as I heard the emotion in his voice and the tears he was holding back I still felt ashamed for eavesdropping as I passed him.

I deactivated the quirk. As I did, I noticed belatedly that Komachi was looking at me with a sympathetic look on her face. "Being a hero is tough, huh?"

Whatever answer I would have had to that question was stolen by the sharp report of an explosion. A few kids who had been milling around the door to my classroom all started backing away, revealing a furiously scowling Bakugo stomping in my direction.

I nodded at him as he got close. He paused just long enough to take in the fact that Komachi was standing next to me, then just kept stomping past, not returning the nod or the hello at all.

"Sheesh," Komachi said quietly after he passed us. "You'd think he'd be happier about getting second place."

I laughed. "Eh… Bakugo's… competitive."

"Yeah but he only made it to the semifinals because he got lucky and you passed out," Komachi grumbled. "And you had a way harder first fight than he did, so if anything he should be glad he got so far in the first place."

My laughter got a lot more nervous. "Heh heh heh yeah do me a favor and never repeat that anywhere in Bakugo's earshot. Ever."

I pushed my way through the dispersing crowds around class 1-A's door and stepped inside, Komachi following right behind me. I don't know what I had expected; maybe people congratulating each other on their performance, or consoling each other on their losses, anything other than the strained conversations that welcomed me as I stepped into the room. Tobe was chatting with Denki and Hagakure with what sounded like forced, artificial cheer; his usual partners in crime, Miura and Hayama, were clear on the other side of the classroom talking to Tokoyami and Uraraka. It seemed like nobody was smiling, even Midoriya, who should have been jubilant about winning and surrounded by well-wishers. Instead he was sitting alone and lost in thought, frowning at the first place medal around his neck instead of packing his backpack.

Maybe he was depressed that he couldn't walk home with his dad? Well, whatever the reason, it really wasn't my business. Instead of talking to him, I took a few steps over towards Yuigahama, who was talking with Yaoyorozu and Ashido. "Hey." I said, motioning Komachi forward towards them. "Mind keeping my sister company while I get changed?"

"Ah! Hikki, you're okay!" Yuigahama said, breaking away from her conversation to take a few steps in my direction. Her warm red-brown eyes shone as she smiled in relief. "Hi! Nice to meet you! I'm Yuigahama Yui, what's your name?"

"Hi! I'm Komachi! Nice to meet you! Um, thanks for worrying about my brother, I know he's such a handful…"

"...realize Hikigaya had such a cute little … name's Ashido, nice to…" The chatter of introductions faded out as I walked into the locker room and got my stuff out of the locker. Even after the short walk up the hill, as I pulled my undershirt off my head I noticed that it was a little damp with sweat. The sudden realization made me feel grimy, suddenly acutely aware of the fact that I'd been engaged in heavy exercise for hours today and hadn't yet had the chance to take a shower.

I still didn't have time for one now, so I reluctantly threw my clean clothes from this morning on and started putting my tracksuit into the bag. Out of habit, I checked my phone, intending to search myself online and maybe look at the news from the festival as a whole to see if I was mentioned in it, but was stopped by the fact that I had messages. A lot of them.

A few were from Komachi, the earlier ones asking if I was okay, while the last was just her passing on Kawasaki's contact info. There were a couple each from my parents, congratulating me on my performance in the festival and apologizing for not coming in person. Not that I'd really expected them to, but the fact that they'd even texted during the middle of the workday was notable in and of itself.

There was one from Cyberpunch.

"Dammit brat you win," it said. "Expect an offer."

I probably should have felt excited - would have, had the circumstances been different. But all I could manage was a grim determination.

108*108*108*108*108*108*108*108*108*108*108*108*108*108*108*108

By the time I made it out of the locker room, my sister had already formed fast friends with the three girls I had left her with, and was slowly attracting a small crowd beyond that. I just stood and waited in the doorway between the locker room and the classroom, a smile overtaking my face as Komachi waxed rhapsodic over the whooshes and zooms and bangs, each with their accompanying hand motions, her perpetual good cheer and enthusiasm radiating outward and slowly triggering the realization in the people listening that, hey. They had been on stage. People - or a classmate's kid sister at least - thought they were cool.

I used to think that maybe if I had been born with Komachi's quirk, I would have been popular somehow. But looking at her cheering up a room, it was easy to see. What made my little sister special had nothing to do with superpowers. Which meant my chances of being even 1/108th as likeable as she was were next to zero, of course, but I somehow couldn't begrudge her for it even a little bit. "Come on, Komachi," I said as I finally stepped into the room. "We should get going if we don't want to miss our train."

"Ugh, it's not my fault you're so slow," Komachi grumbled. "It was nice meeting everybody! And, um, thank you for looking after my brother!"

Yaoyorozu smiled at her gently. "It's no trouble," she said, "and thank you for looking after our class president."

Instead of saying her goodbyes to Komachi, Yuigahama turned to me. "Hikki, you're taking the train home?" she asked curiously, a note of surprise in her voice.

I exhaled sharply through my nose in amusement. "I mean, I'm sure as heck not taking a bike. I am wiped."

"Oh, um, that wasn't - I mean, nevermind," Yuigahama said, waving her hands in front of her. "Um, in that case have a safe trip home!"

"Mmm, thanks. You too." I replied.

"Byeee!" Ashido called out as we headed for the door.

"Yo, have a good one Hikigaya!" "Manly performance dude, see you later!" "Nice to meet you Komachi!" By the time we finished extricating ourselves from the classroom and saying our farewells the corridors had gotten much quieter, with the majority of students having departed long since. Still, there were a few people trickling in. A tall, skeletal man with stringy blonde hair, sunken eyes, and a too-big suit passed us, making me wonder whose dad had come in to look for them and yell at them for taking too long.

"They seemed nice," Komachi said as we walked. "Your friends, I mean."

"They're just classmates," I said tiredly. "But yeah. They are. Heroes tend to be, you know."

"I know," Komachi said, her shoulder bumping gently against mine. "Otherwise you wouldn't want to be one."

I rolled my eyes. "Someone has to be the exception that proves the rule, I guess."

A sharp, pointy elbow found its way into my ribs. "Geez, onii-chan, don't tell me you're that disappointed about losing? You did great, stop being so mopey!"

"... I'm just tired," I said.

A small hand reached up to pat me on the back, and to my dismay I felt tears starting to come to my eyes. "I'm just -" I broke off, biting back a sob. "I'm just so tired." My lack of stored quirks, the fact that Recovery Girl had just prohibited almost all of the methods I would use to even begin going about fixing that problem, the fact that I'd wracked my brain to come up with a way to compensate for my weakness and only come up with an elaborate method of killing myself, the secrets I was keeping, the fact that I'd failed Zaimokuza, the pain and nausea and exhaustion of the day, now that everything was finally done they were all coming crashing down on me at once.

"It's okay," Komachi said quietly, not stopping her soothing pats on my back even a little bit. "It's okay, onii-san. It's okay to rest. Recovery Girl-sensei even told you you had to, right? You've worked hard."

As we got to the front doors, I wiped away my tears - there were bound to be all sorts of journalists hovering around outside like vultures, and the last thing I wanted was for my face to be plastered all over the media. Komachi and I walked in silence to the train station, me not knowing what to say and her being apparently ready to wait and listen.

Hard work will never betray you. Dreams betray most people, but if you're working hard towards a dream then even if it betrays you, you still have your hard work as a consolation prize. Consciously or unconsciously, I had been keeping myself going using that logic ever since the start of the school year. What should I do, now that hard work was betraying me as well?

I didn't have an answer to that.

But as I sat on the train, slowly falling asleep during the long train ride home, I consoled myself with the thought that even if my hard work betrayed me, my little sister never would.