Chapter 4 Friday
A melancholic smile flitted across Izuku's face as he climbed into the car with Todoroki as if in déjà vu. This time they rode in his father's old car, a well-maintained vintage that smelled of leather and cold smoke.
"Hey."
"Hey, thanks for driving." Replied Izuku, setting his shoulder bag down between his legs. "There's rain in the forecast, but I hope it stays dry during the game. This season they haven't even been able to practice in bad weather because the coach has been sick all the time." he explained, fastening his seatbelt.
"The opponents are supposed to be pretty good." added Shouto.
"Their direct rivals. Eijirou said the other day that more than 5 scouts have signed up. The atmosphere will be pretty charged. I hope Kacchan won't be provoked..."
"Wouldn't dream of it, I'm sure." Shouto replied dryly and stopped the car not far from the football field behind the school. The path around the building was lined with small stalls offering a large number of different treats. Izuku sniffed with relish. It smelled like buttery popcorn and warm cotton candy. The sun was still high in the sky, but the first black clouds were already looming on the horizon.
"What time is kickoff?" wanted to know Shouto, looking at his watch. "At six. In an hour."
"Enough time to still get good seats?"
" Absolutely. And we still have to get snacks. And drinks."
Shouto rolled up the sleeves of his sweater and looked around. The selection was overwhelming, and more reminiscent of a fair than a football final. "Popcorn?"
"Sweet or salty?" came the prompt counter-question, and Izuku slowed his pace to get a picture of all the stalls himself.
"Half-half?" suggested Shouto with a shrug, but was immediately pushed aside an arm's length.
"Eeww! No. Either one, or the other." "Salty then."
Izuku stopped, blinking. "You like salty popcorn? More than popcorn with sugar? Or butter?" "Yes. I also like cold noodles. And deep-fried candy bars. And pineapple on pizza."
"Okay. Then I have some bad news for you."
"We can't be friends anymore?"
Izuku laughed and began to stroll resolutely to the popcorn stand. "Either you make friends with Butter Flavor, or you'll have to get your own serving."
"I can live with that."
As it turned out at the stand, salty popcorn was not at all available for selection, and Shouto was content to pay for Izuku's portion and occasionally reach into the bag. Clutching two cups of Sprite and their popcorn bag tightly to their bodies, the two meandered a short time later through the crowd that had already gathered in front of the spectator stands. The air was filled with light laughter and countless excited voices, somewhere a hat with betting stakes was going around and Izuku couldn't help but grin fulfilled when he finally got a seat in the second row and leaned against the soft plastic backrest. The wind played gently with his hair and he leaned back a bit to let Shouto take the seat next to him. They weren't sitting quite centered between the halves of the field, but he would be able to see Ochako well from here at halftime.
"Perfect." He gloated like a toddler in ball paradise "You can see everything from here- oh look there they are! They're warming up! Can you see their numbers? Can you see the 11 anywhere?" without realizing it, Izuku had risen from his chair and was looking strained across the field until his eyes caught on two people passing the ball to each other over a long distance. Just as he was about to sit down again, the blond threw the ball and their eyes met.
Izuku didn't see his face clearly, but the other gestured to the only red-haired teammate, threw him back the ball and started running toward him.
"He saw me!"
With a furrowed brow, Shouto watched as the green-haired man's arms twitched beside his body, obviously not agreeing on whether to wave or shake with delight. Finally, he held them in front of his chest with clenched fists.
"Shouto." He groaned excitedly.
"Huh?"
"He's coming over especially for me!"
"So, is that unusual?"
"Yes!...no. Probably not. But it feels great. I'll go down, save my seat, okay?" "Sure."
Izuku jumped clumsily over the row of seats in front of him, and finally climbed awkwardly over the small railing that separated the spectators' area from the field, straightening up with a pounding heart. Katsuki walked calmly across the lawn, helmet in his right hand, left hand casually buried deep in the pocket of his sweatpants.
"Didn't know you were comin', or I would have saved you a spot with us" Katsuki gestured casually with a thumb over his shoulder to the other side of the field. Izuku followed the gesture with his eyes and saw a horde of strangers standing on the opposite side leaning against the railing. Denki was talking with two of the guys, one slender and one tall and wide, and a very wildly gesticulating blonde girl. Next to her stood the only other girl in the group, and Izuku was briefly willing to call her a woman already, so accomplished did her growth phase seem. Their eyes met abruptly, and she interrupted her friend's storytelling by bumping an elbow against her upper arm.
Then they both looked in his direction, but a tingle on his cheeks reminded him that he was being subjected to a much more intense up-close look. He turned away and smiled gratefully at Katsuki.
"Never mind, I don't know anyone over there anyway."
"That's my clique from sports. You can meet them right away, they're a pretty annoying bunch with too much energy."
"Okay, ehm- then after the game." "Why?"
He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and glanced briefly over his shoulder at Shouto, who was watching them intently, arms crossed.
"Shouto had asked if we'd watch the game together, that's why-"
"IcyHot's here?" he interrupted Izuku with an expression on his face that didn't really need an answer.
Izuku half-heartedly pointed behind him with his hand.
Katsuki clicked his tongue and cast a deprecating glance into the ranks before turning back with an almost arrogant look and placing a hand on Izuku's shoulder invitingly.
"Come on." He whispered conspiratorially, as if letting Izuku in on the plan of the century. "He's used to standin' alone on the side, isn't he?"
Izuku backed away a few inches, puzzled, and thus slipped from the blond's grasp. "Why are you suddenly so antagonistic toward him? Did he do something to you?" he asked, half curious, half unsettled. In theory, he had a great desire to go along with Katsuki and meet his other friends, but practically, he was loyal enough to stay with the friend who first asked him for his company tonight.
"It's personal." Murmured Katsuki, nodding in the other direction "Come on."
"No." refused Izuku intuitively, reaching for the railing as if he feared Katsuki would drag him across the field by the elbow. "We're here together, I'm not going to let him sit there alone now."
"Goddammit. Then do whatever ya want." Katsuki lifted his helmet further under his armpit and pushed a hand through his hair, "Have fun."
"Kacchan!" exclaimed Izuku, surprised that the other had suddenly turned away and jogged back to his team. "Kacchan!" but he was ignored and turned uncertainly from the railing to Shouto. The latter's face spoke volumes.
"He wasn't thrilled that you were here with me?" guessed Shouto as Izuku sat down thoughtfully beside him and reached into the popcorn. It took him two handfuls to get the confusion in his head under control- but one suspicion still stood out: Katsuki still had a serious problem with Shouto. And all indications pointed to one culprit: jealousy. Or more harmlessly, the very unnatural territorial possessiveness over Izuku.
"He wanted me to join his fitness friends. Like I'd be so antisocial and leave you sitting here alone. "
"I'm used to being alone." Replied Shouto amusedly, casually looking up at the increasingly dark sky.
To this Izuku replied nothing, but watched uneasily as Katsuki was promptly absorbed by the strange group on the other side of the field.
The game was a disaster.
Less than a quarter of an hour after kickoff, it began to rain - the kind of rain where you're already ankle-deep in water after 5 minutes because the earth couldn't take that much rain. Fog rose from the heated asphalt next to the pitch and wafted through the players, whose field of vision extended no further than arm's length. The spectator stands were a brightly colored mess of ponchos and rain parkas, and two umbrellas had already been blown onto the field in a gust of wind, causing a stoppage. The two screens that broadcast the game for the spectators sitting farther away were shaking dangerously in the wind, but seemed to have been temporarily fixed tighter than normal beforehand.
Izuku had meanwhile chewed his lower lip bloody, the sound of bodies crashing into each other reaching him each time like a slap in the face 2 seconds delayed. He was not a sports crack, not even moderately informed, but even he could see through the thick veils of rain illuminated by the floodlights that no one was paying attention to fair play here anymore. The referee had no chance to survey the field, but didn't seem to think it necessary to stop the game either.
He shook himself as a gust tore at his hood and a cold trickle slid down his face into his parka. He kept searching each player for Katsuki-like features between slower moves-but he couldn't find him.
No one had scored in what felt like an eternity, the cameras were stuck on a position that showed a spot on the field where no one had been for a long time, and Izuku had a vague inkling that the game wasn't going the way it was supposed to.
A shrill whistle cut abruptly through the air and the murmurs in the stands swelled to a loud hum. Tangled words wafted to his ears, but he didn't understand what they said, only that they grew louder and more aggressive by the second, and then whistles sounded again, more piercing and shrill-and Izuku realized that the wind had blown the sounds from the field to the stands. He squinted his eyes and saw a bunch of people in the back of the field- apparently motionless from a distance. And then the same crunching sound as at the beginning caught his attention and it dawned on him that there was a gigantic brawl going on there on the field between the teams. The referee's incessant whistle was obviously being ignored.
As the first group of securytyguards ran onto the field, Izuku was about to follow them. His alarm bells glowed bright red, and he would bet half his manga collection that Katsuki was back to back with Eijirou in the center of the commotion. There would be dire consequences if the scouts caught on to this behavior.
The game was finally suspended for about 20 minutes, the field cleared, and music turned on to distract the fans - but they couldn't be stopped. Halfway through the intermission, rumors were already swirling about several injured players on their way to the hospital. Izuku began nervously chewing on soft popcorn and his thumbnail in turn until the announcement to continue the game was finally broadcast over the screens. By the time the first players came running back onto the field, the downpour had receded to a drizzle.
"According to the weather report, the rain will move off completely in an hour" Shouto informed without looking up from his screen. He had pulled his hood so tight that only his eyes were visible in the small circle and his voice sounded shielded and muffled. "Also, what about the halftime show? I haven't seen Ochako anywhere yet."
"I hope it takes place. They've been training so hard for it... But with the slippery grass, I don't know if they can perform it." He wiped water from his cheeks and shook out his hood.
"Hmm."
"I think Kacchan hurt himself. He's just been sitting on the bench since the interruption." Izuku pointed out, shielding his eyes from the wind. Katsuki sat on the bench with his legs crossed and his hair steaming. His teammates kept a meter safe distance and even the coach didn't turn its back on him for a second.
No sooner had the words left his mouth had Shouto pushed himself out of his seat and lifted his cell phone. An otherworldly smile played around his lips.
"Bakugou on the substitutes' bench. I'll frame that at home. After I make a dozen copies of it."
"Why?"
"Why don't you take a look at him?" the other snickered, holding the cell phone out to him. In fact, without rain, the resolution was so good that you could see the other guy's face on the phone. A bloody handkerchief was hanging out of his nose. He was more than pissed off and his mood seemed to manifest itself in his increased body temperature. Thick steam rose from his other nostril and his ears. Izuku heard Shouto's snort through his jacket and frowned.
"Then I guess he really was involved earlier."
"I didn't expect anything else." He began, raising the phone again with Katsuki's face zoomed in. "Priceless. I'll keep this picture until the perfect moment. The almighty Katsuki Bakugou. On the bench. Dandy."
Infected by the other's whimsy, Izuku began to grin as well. "I didn't know you were prone to gloating. But as we all know, you're never out of learning."
"I'm not. But with Bakugou, it's something completely different. With people I don't like, I enjoy humiliating moments like that."
"What is this feud between you guys anyway? Is it still because of Italy that you so vehemently wish the plague on each other?"
"For him, that might be true, but I just dislike him because he still doesn't treat you like he appreciates you. Let alone care enough to get serious about a relationship with you."
"It's not like we're going out, we have two dates in the future and after that...we'll see." "You have to know what you're doing. As a friend, it's just hard to watch."
Izuku exhaled a long breath and scratched his forehead. He didn't know what to say back.
As if magnetically, his head moved back to the pitch instead, and his eyes landed on Katsuki. Beside him, half bent over the railing, he recognized the girl from earlier. Her long hair hung wetly and smoothly over her shoulders and she laughed at something Katsuki told her. Her whole body language had changed compared to before. Now that the blonde was giving her his full attention, she seemed composed and, much to Izuku's displeasure, flirty. Every now and then she smoothed her hair over her breasts and played with individual strands.
"Ochako wrote to me," snapped him out of his thoughts.
With a dull throb in his chest, the green-haired man turned sideways in his seat and read the message Shouto showed him. The cheerleaders' performance was not canceled, but would take place as planned during halftime, as the weather was expected to have improved by then.
Midoriya passed the time until the halftime show with a quick trip to the bathroom and another round of Sprite. At least that's what he thought. As it turned out, the first minutes after the first half were very popular with everyone to empty their bladder without risk of missing the start of the show. However, getting the drinks first and then going to the bathroom was not an option either. Ew. So he gave up on the drinks - after all, they had been
supplied with liquid from all sides for over an hour - and hurriedly returned to Shouto, who put away the absence of a new drink like a champ.
The first drums echoed across the field and all faces turned back to the center. Izuku recognized the beginning of the song and nodded appreciatively. Muse was always a good choice for dancing, and the song Uprising was among his all-time stars in the playlist.
As the first few beats played over and over again from the very beginning, the audience slowly but surely moved back to their seats. A few students from the younger classes brought in 6 chairs, which were lined up one after the other in the form of a pyramid. At all the other games, which he had usually decided to attend at the last moment, he had often been given one of the less desirable seats on the narrow side of the field, from where one honestly got nothing but a sunburn from the setting sun beaming mercilessly into the stands. But today, classic anticipation and curiosity about the program gripped him with both hands and made him shift restlessly back and forth in his seat. For the first time, he was sitting so favorably that he could see the complete choreography, and from the front at that, if he interpreted the arrangement of the chairs correctly. His gaze flickered briefly to the two screens that remained on during the break, and one camera was already focusing on the rows of chairs. The other, however, moved at a slow pace past the players, some of whom were obviously being asked to put back their drinks and towels and make their way to the chairs. Partner choreography? He rubbed his hands together in anticipation and turned to Shouto.
"They're involving the football players," he said. "Even the ones on the bench?"
Izuku snorted and glanced briefly at the screen-but it had stuck to Sero, who had been trying to protect the coaches' booth from the rain using tape. It hadn't worked, but it ensured that both the coach and Sero couldn't leave his booth for the rest of the game.
"I recognize Eijirou." Shouto remarked with narrowed eyes.
"And Kacchan. And Iida's in it, too. Oh, Kiri gets to sit in the front row!"
The other students hurriedly left the lawn, and one last time the song began from the beginning-at the same moment that two firecrackers launched from the rows on the opposite side. The drizzle high above them obscured the blast, but the colors sprayed unimpeded across the field, bathing players and spectators in a composition of bright green and fiery red. By the time the first turned their heads away from the sky again, the first cheerleaders were already nearly in the middle of the field by the chairs. Izuku recognized Ochako immediately. She was the only one on her team whose short hair wasn't tied up in a ponytail. He also recognized Momo, if not from a distance, then at the latest on the screens. A camera captured up close how Mina stopped in front of Kirishima, Momo in front of Iida, and Ochako in front of none other than Bakugou. Izuku gasped in bewilderment. The camera perfectly conveyed the surprise on Bakugou's face-and Izuku understood that it wasn't an agreed-upon partner choreography. He didn't take his eyes off the brunette for the last few seconds until the chorus, and Izuku was more nervous just from watching than he was before his final exam in biochemistry.
But Ochako stood confidently in front of him, both arms on her left hip, and boldly returned his probing gaze.
And finally she began to move. And Izuku, who had expected Ochako to be more in the elegant form of a ballerina, almost suffered an aneurysm as his friend bent and twisted her body to the bass, got down on her knees, ruffled her hair, and slid both hands over her curves.
For the first half minute, Izuku was unable and describe what he was thinking. His eyes were so glued to the parts of her body facing him that he didn't realize his mouth was open until a larger drop dripped onto his lower lip.
Closing his mouth, he began to tap his foot along to the beat, still trying to understand - and connect what he was seeing with the shy Ochako from his everyday life. Glancing sideways for a moment, he realized that Shouto's processing power wasn't keeping up either. He blinked every 2 seconds, otherwise didn't move a bit, eyeing Momo. Neither of them had seen a girl dance like that. So... sexy? Was it even allowed to show something like that at school? Had it always been like this at these games?
Katsuki, impervious to all the charms in the world that didn't end in murder and manslaughter, watched the girl in front of him like a moderately exciting action movie. Arms folded in front of his chest, head tilted slightly. Even when she completely circled him once during the dance without letting go of his shoulders, he seemed almost bored. Kirishima presented a completely different picture, absorbing Mina's every movement with his eyes and looking as if he regretted not having a 24/7 dashcam on his head. He lifted his hands to hers when she clung to him for a kick-in-the-air turn and was apparently headed straight for la la land.
In the next second Ochako also lifted her foot and positioned it in the middle of the blond's broad chest. Again Izuku took a deep breath and then put his fingers to his face. For Bakugou slid his eyes so obviously into her crotch that Izuku held his breath and sent a prayer to the heavens that his friend was wearing shorts under her uniform. The arrogant expression in Bakugou's disappeared the second Ochako stretched her leg into a kick and the chair Katsuki had been casually sitting on tipped backwards. And before he could break the fall, Ochako had gracefully raised both hands in the air and initiated a cartwheel. Whistles came from the stands, and Izuku vowed to search the entire Internet for a video of it afterwards.
Ochako had timed her cartwheel so perfectly that barely a second after wild blond hair landed in the churning mud of the meadow, she was propped up on his chest and landing behind his head. A good portion of dirt also landed in the blond's collar when he landed, which one of the cameras caught up close. It zoomed in on his face, which he was just wiping with the bottom edge of his jersey, and it caught an image that made Izuku lower his eyes in irritation. Because Katsuki wasn't down, seething in the grass, or angry or even complaining, but looking after Ochako with an approving look and an amused smile. Absently, Izuku let the knuckles of his left hand crack, keeping envy at bay.
The music ended, Kirishima the only one of the six boys who hadn't landed in the dirt, and the chairs were hastily cleared from the field again to start the second half. Izuku nibbled dejectedly on his soggy popcorn as he tried to sort out his feelings. Or more concretely, the feeling that made him tense his fingers and toes, knowing full well that he had never given
Katsuki a reason to look at him like that. Appreciative and interested. Everything he did was average, and anything but surprising to Bakugou. He sighed, nibbled on his buttery lower lip, and casually pondered whether he should start playing a sport that would lead to success quickly enough to impress Katsuki by the second date. He couldn't think of anything.
He also couldn't get back into the game until the blond finally came off the bench to be substituted and the girl with the long hair joined her friends back behind the railing. The game slid past him, he caught Kirishima throwing the decisive ball in the right place at the crucial moment- then the game was over. The people behind the players were the first to jump onto the field- then all the other ranks followed.
But Izuku couldn't find the spark to reignite his good mood.
"Let's get something to eat before we go." Shouto offered, and Izuku nodded gratefully. He was happy that their team had won, but he had never been a fan of crowds, and he could still congratulate Katsuki tomorrow. He also highly doubted that he could even get closer than a meter to him at the moment.
As soon as they had left the ranks, there were fewer students. Most were singing and dancing on the field, the music louder than during halftime.
"Guys! Hey-here!"
In unison, they turned their heads to the side and spotted Ochako, still in her costume, standing by one of the stairways.
"I knew I'd find you guys here! Pizza?"
"We were on our way to get something to eat, too." Replied Shouto, pulling his zipper up under his chin. "Do you want us to take you home, too?"
"You were stunning." Izuku interjected before she could reply. "I didn't know you could move like that!"
"Oh thank you, thank you. It was soooo hard for me. You can't imagine how close I was to calling it all off when Coach told me to put Bakugou on the chair in front of me. I could feel my fingers burning just from the thought. But I think it was okay. He was okay, didn't say anything, didn't fidget- I was really afraid he was going to ruin the performance somehow."
"The stunt with the tipped over chair was rad."
"Mina's idea to boost Kiri as the last man standing. Worked!"
"Do you want us to give you a ride? Then we can get pizza on the way?" Shouo repeated. Ochako pursed his lips and turned away from them for a moment.
"I think the ladies want to go to the mall for some finishing cocktails later. Do you guys want to join us there? The bar has snacks too?"
"I'll pass" said Izuku, raising his hands apologetically "I have a date with Kacchan tomorrow morning. And for that, I'd like to be well-rested and refreshed."
"YOU WHAT" she raised her hands to her mouth and snapped her eyes open "Is this a... DATE date?"
He felt Shouto roll his eyes next to him, but he himself began to feel his cheeks tingle right back. "Yes. I have so much more to tell you-!" the ringing of Shouto's cell phone interrupted him and he grinned sheepishly at his friend.
"Day after tomorrow then?" she suggested and immediately he nodded. "Shall we order pizza there then?"
"Will do."
"Okay!" she wrapped her arms around Izuku's neck and hugged him tightly "And then I want to know everything! Have a quiet evening you two, see you the day after tomorrow! And if Bakugou should give you flowers, please take a picture!"
"Speaking of photo." Chuckled Shouto, scrolling through his gallery to his photo from the game, of Katsuki on the bench.
A snort escaped Ochako and then, laughing, she pulled her cell phone from a pocket on her thigh. "Send me that!"
Izuku pulled his phone out of his pocket too, was also briefly tempted to ask for the picture as well- but that's when he discovered an unread message. From Kacchan.
[Come over]
His heart leapt.
Shouto looked over his shoulder at the screen and then at his face and asked, "Do you want me to drive you there?"
"His house is on the way, isn't it?"
"Not on my way, but there's no bus currently running." "Only if it doesn't inconvenience you."
"It doesn't."
"Cool."
"Do you still want to grab a little something to eat first?"
It burned Izuku's tongue not to refuse the offer, but finally he nodded. They decided not to have pizza, since it was planned for Sunday. Midoriya had also invited Shouto along; three of them could play cooler games on the Playstation than two. Besides, he had the feeling that
Shouto himself might want to say something about Italy, after all, he also suffered some consequences.
Barely 45 minutes later they stood at the car and Izuku shivered. It had grown dark and cold as the sun set behind the ranks. It was no longer raining, but everything felt clammy and far too cold. The music on the grounds as well as the floodlights had been turned off and as soon as the good mood of the celebrating people was no longer noticeable, the place quickly emptied and everyone headed to the mall or on their way home.
During the short drive, Izuku couldn't shake the impression that Shouto wanted to tell him something, but he didn't come clean. Even when he finally stood on the sidewalk, car jack in hand, it was Izuku who said goodbye first.
"See you Sunday," the other replied, briefly lifting a hand from the steering wheel. Izuku gingerly closed the car door and strolled along the familiar path to Bakugou's front door. Crickets were chirping and there must have been a barbecue going on somewhere in the neighborhood. The air smelled of wet grass and warm bread.
The light in Katsuki's room was out, as was the rest of the house, so he pulled out his cell phone and decided to call instead of ringing.
But the line was busy.
He took a deep breath, straightened his shoulders and waited two minutes, then tried again. When the beeping started again directly, he understood that the line was not busy, but the cell phone was off.
He stepped to the front door and peered through the adjacent window. There was none of the three house keys usually hanging on the key rack.
There was no one at home.
Following a last intuition, he walked around the house to garage, but even Katsuki's black VW wasn't there.
He bit his lip and sank down on the small stairs to the driveway, cell phone in hand.
Then, sighing, he rubbed the part of his chest that seemed hollowed out. He should have just canceled, and looked forward to tomorrow. Katsuki was impulsive and he himself too obedient for such spontaneous ideas. Come over? Har har. Probably the blond had changed his mind halfway home and didn't think it was necessary to let him know. Or had he simply not gone home because Izuku had not answered? He raised his cell phone to eye level and opened the chat. What did one write in such a situation?. There was no point in writing to him when his phone was empty, he wouldn't read it until tomorrow anyway. Then they could also settle it in person.
The image of the girl with the long hair flashed through his mind, but he shook it off and stood up. His pants were wet, of course, and the cold clung to the back of his thighs. He had been so lost in thought that he had sat down on the step, soaking wet from the rain. Distantly,
he felt his throat tighten and the corners of his eyes begin to itch, but just then a car pulled up and stopped right at the end of the path.
The window was rolled down and he looked into a tired, resigned pair of eyes. One blue, one gray.
"I'll drive you home." He started to cry.