The much-anticipated Bakugo roast is here. I won't talk too much.
-SpiritOfErebus
There was no more bullshit.
The crowd cheered. The flames roared. Bakguo smirked, cracking his knuckles from across the arena.
There was no more chance of winning.
Hans felt his eight percent of mana swirl around his entire being like the last drops in a bottle of water, barely enough to keep the interior of the bottle wet.
There would be no summons. No obstacles. No environmental hazards.
It was just Hans, Bakugo, and a pre-written roast encoded in his noble phantasm.
"Well…" Hans thought. "Victory was nice while it lasted."
…
Bakugo looked across the arena, at the little shit that had dared to climb to the semifinals.
The little shit that had gotten into UA through a rigged recommended exam that admitted five people. The little shit had gotten through the first task by teaming. That fucking midget had gotten through the second task by hiding.
He did not deserve to be here. In the literal best hero school in the world.
Thus, Bakugo gritted his teeth. He felt sweat starting to well up in his pores and distribute itself evenly across a palm already coated in semi-dried sweat. It was fucking uncomfortable, but comfort didn't equal effectiveness.
"With a constituent and strong push throughout the event, his fighting is anything but consistent with his explosive force! It's Bakugo Katsuki!" the loudmouth teacher shouted through the PA.
"And, on the other side, we have Hans Christian Andersen, the one that defeated the creator of the skyscraping glacier!"
The crowd cheered, and Bakugo smirked.
This was going to be fucking easy. This time, Bakugo wouldn't allow that midget any step forward.
"Are! You! Ready!"
Then, that pervy announcer brought her flogger down. And then, the midget did something. A single, blue sheet of paper floated across the arena, and Bakugo narrowed his eyes at it.
Had he seen this before? Bakugo remembered seeing a blue speck fly across the arena before Half-and-Half bastard unleashed the huge glacier.
Did that have anything to do with it?
For now, Bakugo evaded the projectile. With an explosion from his palms, he leapt upwards into the air. The sheet of paper somehow deviated in its wind-blown path to follow him upwards.
"Fine, then." Bakugo snarled, propelling himself forwards. Whatever this thing was, he would blow it up first.
As he rocketed towards the sheet of paper, it almost seemed to glow brighter when he brought his palms forwards.
Then, a bright light flashed.
It wasn't his explosion that flashed first.
For an instant, everything went blue. Bakugo was hit with a huge bout of vertigo as he landed on the ground. Everything pulsed once with blue as, for some reason, his vision had blanked out.
Then, the midget stepped forwards, a bow tie and lab coat appearing over the midget's clothes.
"Let's begin this in earnest." he said, crossing his arms arrogantly and adjusting a pair of glasses that weren't there before. "I've said this to Midoriya. I've said this to Todoroki. And now, I'll say it to you."
"Shut the fuck up!" Bakugo roared, shaking his head to clear the dizziness and rocketing towards Hans.
"Did you really think that you were special?"
With a swift moment that Bakugo never could expect out of the midget, he sidestepped his attack rush and retaliated with a picture perfect martial arts punch to the ribs. It didn't feel like it did any damage.
"Despite winning the genetic lottery and working hard to become a hero, you're just another one of the hero commission's plastic soldiers." the midget said. "There are doubtlessly thousands of kids around Japan, and thousands more across the world that have a comparable quirk, a comparable drive and comparable strength."
"Heh. Did you think that would break me?" Bakugo said, getting up from a roll on the concrete floor and smirking. "All your word games. All of your fucking bullshit. It's over during this match."
"But I suppose you are special in one way." Hans continued, not appearing to even have acknowledged Bakugo's statement. Bakugo narrowed his eyes. Something wasn't quite right.
"You're the actual worst person that I've ever met." Hans declared, crossing his arms. "Actually, I'll revise that statement. The second worst person that I've ever met."
"And you're just fucking whining." Bakugo said, rocketing forwards once more. Once again, the midget dodged out of the way like a goddamn martial arts professional, displaying an unnatural level of speed and flexibility for somebody of his stature.
"What, your arrogance is based on the experiences you have in your little scrap of a life?" Hans said, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms, one hand out from the cross to gesture vaguely. "Just because you were able to bully people, get praised by a clique of less accomplished people, and do almost everything without consequences doesn't mean that you're on top of the world. You're just a medium sized fish in a tadpole pond, swimming around in the low stakes environment that is a school."
Bakugo narrowed his eyes and looked around. Something definitely wasn't right about the combat arena. The crowd was oddly still. The sky's clouds were formulaic… too formulaic…
Was he trapped in a goddamn illusion?
"Besides, the reason for the teacher's lenience and constant praise to enable you to become a hero had a point." Hans said, smirking. "It was to stop you from forming grudges against society, while filling you with the desire to achieve success and popularity on a wider scale by becoming a hero."
Bakugo pinched himself. It felt real enough. He pinched himself again, only harder.
That… felt exactly the same.
He was in an illusion.
"You're a brainwashed puppet tugged along by strings that the Hero Commission controls, never actually seeing your own strings while being forced to dance." Hans said, pacing around the edge of the arena. "Targeted when you're a young child by societal norms that they make, in order to create a constant dichotomy and a constant population of heroes and villains out of the two extremes of the social classes so that their sham of a society can keep functioning. But you don't care, do you?"
Bakugo looked at the midget.
"You've realized that this is an illusion by now, right?" the midget said. "In fact, while I was saying everything about societal expectations and everything like that, you were looking for a way out of this thing, right? Because you're a fight obsessed maniac that thinks that strength is the only ticket upwards."
"It is." Bakugo said. "And you're only fucking whining because you don't have enough of it. You're a useless shit impersonating an actual hero."
"But let me say something that you can't ignore." Hans said, his body going abruptly still. Perhaps his illusion had finally run out of time, or something?
"Midoriya Izuku… is better than you."
"No he fucking isn't." Bakugo laughed.
He laughed. He closed his eyes and bent his back, laughing upwards to the sky. "Y-you don't seriously fucking think that the useless Deku… is better than me?"
"Despite being a person with questionable motivations, he does have a more morally righteous character than you." Hans said. "And also, far more potential. Because your belief in strength… in being number one… is fundamentally pointless."
"What do you mean pointless?" Bakugo said, "You couldn't take out Todoroki with this illusion, so why do you think it'll be able to take me out?"
"Midoriya aims to become a symbol of peace." Hans said. "Somebody that wants to save people with a smile. Despite being somebody that doesn't think about the consequences of his actions and what being a symbol truly details, to be able to wish for it after what you've done to him. After what society has done to him… it really says something about his character. It's with a very grudging attitude that I say this, mind you." Hans said.
"But you… your entire worldview is based on being the best. You think you are the best, so you think you deserve to be special. That the world deserves to revolve around you. But yet, you still have so much to prove. Innately, you know that you're weak. That you're helpless. That sometimes, you just can't save yourself."
Bakugo's stomach lurched. He remembered the suffocating- help, somebody, I can't breathe-
He shook his head. Not now. He wouldn't be beaten by this damn illusion.
"The modern age word of hero holds a very different meaning now." Hans said slowly, his still form suddenly mobile enough to move forwards. "Now, it's about fame. Fortune. Keeping the status quo and painting society over with a silvery sheen so nobody resists. Do you… know about the older times?"
"The Troubled Century?" Bakugo said, scoffing while putting on a brave front. Bakguo shook all thoughts of the sludge villain out of his head again. By thinking that he did, he obviously did not shake them all out.
"Every kid knows about that shit. It's when heroes were born. Heroes beat up all the fucking villains and stand at the top. Something you can't understand."
"The older times." Hans repeated. "Not anything you actually would know about now that I think of it. Or anybody now, really. Too much history has been lost during that century. But back then, in a different time, in a different world… the word hero meant something different too."
The scene changed.
…
Bakugo looked on as a gigantic bull stormed an ancient city. It was massive. Large in a way he couldn't quite explain. Floods raged all about as a river tore apart its banks and followed the hooves of the bull like an unrelenting serpent.
Before him, two figures stood, completely unaware of his presence. One with long green hair in a white gown, and one with golden hair in equally golden armor.
Nobody was watching them. Everybody had fled.
Yet, the two beings, seemingly almost nothing before the titanic creature before them, surged forwards into battle.
And after the battle, after lightning flashed, chains broke and surged forth, and as weapons poured from unknown golden gates, the one with green hair slowly withered.
The days flew by, seeming like seconds. And the one with golden hair stayed by. But eventually, a maggot poked its way out of the green haired one's nose. And the golden one turned, red eyes (so much like his) shaken, yet not regretting.
"Heroes had responsibility." Hans' voice said.
…
A man wielding a bright red spear of bone stood slumped against a rock, something coming out of his own stomach, that looped around the stone.
With a sickening thought, Bakugo realized that the thing was an intestine. And that the man was grinning like a maniac.
Had he ever been in a fight where he had chosen to engage an enemy he couldn't beat?
Still, one message was clear.
"Heroes persisted."
…
The next scene wasn't painful at all.
An incredible hero with a flaming lance gave away many powerful pieces of armor in the name of charity, and because of his kindness, he was killed in his next battle.
And despite the many misfortunes he faced, he pushed forwards. Abandoned by his birth parents, ridiculed for being in a poor family, and his poor social status.
That hero… still helped people. And for some reason, that Hero reminded Bakugo of Midoriya just a bit.
"Heroes were kind."
…
"Are you any of those things, Bakugo?" Hans said, "Because if you aren't, then all you have left is strength. Your strength, which is such an illusion compared to what is actually dangerous."
Then, Bakugo returned to the arena. Hans stood before him in a martial arts stance, before slowly, the figure changed. An old, graying man wearing a traditional red jacket and old-fashioned pants took his place. With a glint of the sunglasses, he stepped forwards, breaking the concrete underneath his feet, and aimed a quick punch at Bakugo.
Retaliating with an explosion, Bakugo found that despite taking some collateral, his outstretched arm was completely deflected. Next, he felt a fist impact his sternum.
"Where is your skill?" the old man said in Hans's voice.
The scene abruptly shifted. Bakugo watched a man with silver hair and dead eyes shoot down people hoisting guns onto a truck. The tanned man turned and said, in Hans's voice…
"Where is your decisiveness?"
The tanned man grew into a gigantic, dull-skinned monster with glowing, red eyes, wielding an ax that looked like it had been hewn out of stone. As it swung that massive piece of sharpened stone with an incredible speed, Bakugo could feel each titanic impact almost vaporizing his flesh.
It went dark, and Bakugo fell to the ground, feeling his limbs and the phantom pains to remind himself that they were still there.
Then, pillars of flesh rose from the void. Hans appeared in the middle of the darkness as the pillars spontaneously grew eyes, lasers seemingly firing from their pupils. Bakugo gritted his teeth and muted his screams, feeling the illusionary pain crawl up his spine. He was forced to watch as the pillars slowly hoisted up a… being… one that seemed to emanate the same aura as the pillars, only much stronger.
Beams of destructive energy soared forward like missile volleys from the figure's arms. Even its physical strength felt almost as immeasurable, no, beyond, the strength of All Might.
"These are real, by the way." Hans muttered. "I know that I have every reason to lie to you, but this… is real… somehow, somewhere. But when your strength fails you and you get completely overwhelmed… what does that leave you? Where does that leave you?"
Bakugo gritted his teeth and crackled his palms in resistance.
"Still ahead of you!" he shouted, stepping forwards the illusionary Hans.
Then, he emerged back into the arena. Where nothing had changed. The pillars weren't real. The demonic… beast wasn't real.
It was just him. And the midget again.
"Fuck you you piece of shit!" Bakugo roared. "I'm going to murder you!"
He leapt into the air, before sending explosions from side to side. Slowly, his body began to spin to bleed off sideways momentum as he rocketed towards Hans's smug face.
"Don't worry, you strength obsessed idiot." Hans said, grinning. "I'll obviously end this fight in the least satisfying way possible."
As he was ten meters from Hans, a gigantic hand appeared. Bakugo's eyes widened and he began to slow down immediately. If that hand slapped him, he would-
The hand slapped Hans out of the ring.
Bakugo tumbled to a halt, landing squarely in the arena. From the grass, Hans grinned as he stood up slowly.
Throughout the whole match, Hans had not taken a single step forward.
But why did it feel like the one that didn't move forward… was him?
…
"He's out." Yaoyorozu said on the battlefield. "It was to be expected, though. Hans was already low on energy."
"Is that the term he used?" Kirishima said at the stairwell, preparing to head down for their match.
"...Probably?" Yaoyorozu said, "Well, he never exactly elaborates, but… Now's not the time. Do you think you have a shot at taking down Bakugo?"
"...I'll try." Kirishima said, clenching his fist. "Do you?"
"There are many tools that would potentially be able to restrict his quirk, due to its inherent incendiary nature." Yaoyorozu said, crossing her arms and thinking. "However, most of those options will be inefficient on lipids, and if I win the match against you, I'll only have time during the match for third place to be able to replenish. So-"
"Let's not think about it too much." Kirishima declared. "Sometimes, we just have to do it. Whoever comes out on top during this match will have the best chance, okay?"
"...That's not what Hans would say." Yaoyorozu said. "But okay."
It was awfully hot blooded of them, but this was a hot-blooded event.
…
Kirishima and Yaoyorozu stood across from each other in the arena, slowly circling each other.
The match had begun a long time ago. The introductions had been said and Midnight had her fanservice moment. But they were still circling.
It was an awkward situation, given the fact that thousands of people across the country were watching this on live television.
"Are you going to make the first move?" Kirishima muttered, swapping his left with his right in his stance while making yet another turn.
"We're so aware of each other's capabilities that it's hard to directly start this battle, isn't it?" Yaoyorozu replied. "But there was a reason that I've been stalling for so long."
A sheet of paper finished printing from behind her back, and grabbing it, she immediately produced a punch card reader and a USB. Kirishima dashed forwards as Yaoyorozu put the sheet of paper into the device and set it on the ground, before she made foam pads appear before her forearms.
"It's time to see whether or not you really can handle explosives." Yaoyorozu declared, standing between Kirishima and the punch card reader, still slowly chugging its way past the lines of code written in binary.
Yaoyorozu was preparing drones. Kirishima had to finish this fast.
He advanced, activating his quirk along his arms. The razor sharp fingertips almost stabbed into Yaoyorozu's arms, but after tearing past the foam pads, the sharp tips glanced off a steel plate that had appeared right after the foam. Yaoyorozu retaliated with a punch that was made deadlier with a steel hand knuckle, making a dull clink as Kirishima hardened his skin to defend.
The battle continued as the two continued to throw punches and kicks, Kirishima slowly overpowering Yaoyorozu's current set of protective equipment and forcing her to constantly produce new ones. Flashbangs occasionally went off, but while Yaoyorozu was able to avoid their impact by producing earplugs and very dark sunglasses, Kirishima had to harden his whole body as his ears rang and whatever followup hits glanced off of his body.
Eventually, the machine behind Yaoyorozu dinged, and she let off one last flashbang, before running back to the punch card reader and extracting a USB off of the frankenstein of modern and relatively ancient technology.
A drone popped into her hand, and she plugged in the USB as it came to life. A headband that read brain electricity sprang into existence as she proceeded to make the drone take to the air, dead set on attacking Kirishima.
Punching it out of the air and feeling a container within the drone break, Kirishima noticed that he had been doused in flammable chemicals.
Then, the swarm came. Limited only by the fact that she had one USB, Yaoyorozu was able to send the drones she had soaring across the arena like a bullet hell, in an oddly specific pattern.
At long range and from across the arena, there wasn't an effective method for him to attack Yaoyorozu. And though he was durable enough, and his hardening granted him the toughness to have some degree of resistance to flames, he wasn't totally immune. His hair would still burn and he could still sustain some first-degree burns.
Thus, he ran forwards. Using a hardened claw to scoop up some chunks of concrete from the arena, he threw them as he went, aiming for the fragile propellers on the cheaply produced drones. Though most missed, the ones that hit were able to disrupt the net formation. Through a flurry of explosions and spiraling machinery, Kirishima got close.
Yaoyorozu wound up a punch… slightly too far away from him. Kirishima dodged anyways, because-
A sledgehammer shot out of her arm, adding weight and reach to the wide swing. The tool clattered to the ground, and just as Kirishima was about to go for it, Yaoyorozu swung a fishing hook that sprouted out of her arm and was linked by plastic string to get the sledgehammer out of the arena.
"You're not the only one with close range options, Kirishima." Yaoyoruz said, sweating as her eyes darted from drone to drone, her headband slowly steaming. Sweat that emerged was slowly evaporating.
"And you're not the only one with little tricks, Yaoyorozu." Kirishima said, bending back in a pitching throw and tossing one of the oldest weapons in known human history.
A rock.
As Yaoyorozu was forced to dodge the sudden attack, her drone formation became disorganized while she was distracted.
Kirishima ran forwards to cross those last few meters as Yaoyorozu abandoned her drones temporarily to focus on close range. Rockets sprouted out of her abdomen, destroying the bottom half of her shirt. Kirishima crossed his arms in front of him and tried to dodge out of the way, but the imprecise projectile was aimed at the floor.
He was blown backwards, his shirt catching fire in the process, but the explosion had created a lot of miscellaneous rubble. Kirishima quickly put out the flames and returned to looking at Yaoyorozu warily, all the while picking up more loose rocks and more ammunition.
He needed more speed. More range. Yaoyorozu didn't have speed, but she had literally all the options. Close range. Mid range. And there was no time limit on her abilities, unlike Monoma, and she was much more versatile as well.
Did he even have a skill advantage?
As the drones advanced once more, Kirishima realized that he did. The complicated thought processes involved in creating all of the various gadgets would be Yaoyorozu's downfall.
All he had to do… was get close and pressure her. And take anything that she sent his way.
With his quirk, that wouldn't be difficult.
He ran through the drones, his right half still slightly on fire. After a quick roll, though, his hardened skin was only just covered in a bit of soot. He sidestepped one improvised rocket and rubber bullets pinged off of his skin. A net was launched at him, but he was able to roll out of the way of that as well. Electricity couldn't make it past his hardening, which apparently made his skin an insulator.
At last, he was standing before Yaoyorozu.
"I'm… still not familiar with all of my possibilities." Yaoyorzu said, shedding her technological equipment. "One month wasn't enough training."
"We all need more time." Kirishima said, lunging forwards in a punch. His unhardened body provided more flexibility.
"But your quirk is so much simpler." Yaoyorozu said. "You've won in all the ways that matter this time… but I still have my small tricks."
A blade sprouted out of Yaoyorozu's hand, and Kirishima's reflexes saved him. The blunt weapon skidded off of his skin, hardened just in time to deflect the attack. Clearly, if that had hit unhardened skin, the judges would rule the match as Yaoyorozu's victory.
Still, Yaoyorozu was unbalanced, and Kirishima grabbed her with a hardened arm, bent her over his shoulder, and slammed her out of the arena.
It was over. Kirishima had won.
He looked back up to the stands, panting like a racehorse. His ringing ears and his slightly spotty vision did not impede the view of his next opponent.
…
While the teachers and assistants cleared the chemical waste off of the arena, Kirishima was quickly rushed to the infirmary in order to release UA from all liabilities from his potential injuries. Yaoyorozu, however, was informed that she had a match immediately after the break for third place as she was heading to the infirmary as well to check for any major injuries.
"Well, other than the bruise on your back that I took care of, along with a slightly low lipid concentration in your bloodstream, you're clear." Recovery girl said, ticking off her clipboard. "Stay here for a while, though, and report any pain. I need to go inspect another young man for chemical burns."
Yaoyorozu laid back on the hospital bed and took a deep breath.
"Nice job making it to the semifinals." Todoroki said, looking more relaxed than Yaoyorozu had ever seen him be.
"Are you… okay?" Yaoyorozu said, raising an eyebrow. "You don't normally act like this. Did the cold do something, or…"
"It's okay." Todoroki said, showing his body slowly steaming. "I'm using my fire to keep my body generally warm to get rid of any lingering cold patches caused by my quirk."
"But… why didn't you do this during the event?" Yaoyorozu asked. "If you had just used your fire, you could have recovered in time to continue using your quirk."
"Isn't Hans… your cult lead- I mean, friend?" Todoroki said, raising an eyebrow. "Were you hoping for him to lose?"
"Of course I want him to win." Yaoyorozu said defensively. "I just… don't exactly understand how he won."
"Through some kind of quirk-related magical paper, he talked to me." Todoroki said. "He said that I didn't actually want to keep going on this career."
"W-what?" Yaoyorozu sputtered.
"Think about it. You're a recommended student, too." Todoroki said calmly. Almost too calmly. "Haven't you felt the pressure to work harder? To push yourself to become a hero just because your quirk was suitable? Besides…"
Todoroki stopped talking for a moment, one hand trailing up to the burn scar on his left side.
"Family can be… difficult." he muttered.
"He said many things to me during our match, too." Midoriya said from his bed, now covered in several casts. "He talked a lot about how I didn't want to be a hero, and that I was just doing this all… for approval."
Midoriya looked down at his fingers, each completely entombed in plaster.
"He did say that if I honestly considered my faults, I'd get his approval or something, but on the other hand, I'm not entirely sure that what he says is right.
"We should all look into our motivations." Todoroki said. "After all, we're only-"
"Stop." Yaoyorozu said suddenly.
The two turned to look at her.
Yaoyorozu didn't exactly know why she said it, but there was something wrong with what they were saying.
It was too cynical.
She closed her eyes, and thought back. Ever since the beginning of the school year, Hans showed a constant bias towards anything related to the modern hero industry. From his snide remarks on the budget, to… the self-perpetuating nature of industrialized heroism, none of it stopped to look at the other side. Despite the basis in fact, it was still a skewed basis.
Hans was incredibly biased.
And he was talking to incredibly powerful, emotionally unstable teenagers handed more responsibility than they should honestly have been given.
"Just because some other person told you how to act doesn't mean you have to actually accept their viewpoint." Yaoyorozu said. "Besides, the person that knows you the best is yourself."
If Hans had said something across all of his matches to try and distract his opponents to win, needless to say, it had to be something that would cause an emotional response. But looking at Midoriya, normally quite vulnerable to things such as tears, and Todoroki, whose impassive nature was probably just being socially stunted…
"Hans…" Yaoyorozu muttered. "Are you really aware of what you're doing?"
Even though Hans had argued and debated with her in the past, they had gotten over it. The various mean-spirited insults were harsh, but Yaoyorozu always had just thought that it was well-meaning, in the very least.
But was it really?
Combined with his own self-deprecating statements, the fact that Hans's family was probably in a pretty tough state, and… his refusal to accept her uplifting statements, despite his perseverance?
Something was probably wrong with Hans. Being perpetually cynical definitely wasn't good for any person with a functionally sound mind. And she needed him to see that.
Next up, she would be fighting Hans.
…
"On one side, we have Yaoyorozu Momo! The maker of equipment and wielder of high explosives! Some other contestants might feel threatened by her chemical reactions!"
"Cheesy." Hans said, closing his eyes and smirking. His limbs felt sore and his eyelids felt heavy. But this was the last fight for today.
"I never really paused to listen to this commentary."
"And on the other side, with impressive adaptive elemental abilities, we have Hans Christian Andersen!"
"You should honestly stop and listen more." Yaoyorozu said, raising her fists. "That's your entire problem."
"My problem?" Hans said, spreading out both his arms and laughing. "Are we resuming the debates that we had previously paused?"
"No." Yaoyorozu said coldly. "This time, I'm teaching you a lesson. And for once, you should just listen. That's one advantage of being in a fighting venue. It doesn't end until one side loses."
"Start!" Midnight said, still as enthusiastic as before, though with a bit of strain in her tone.
Hans shook his head and raised his fists. He had no mana, and no desire to fight. But if Yaoyorozu, his very first verbal opponent in this godforsaken high school, wanted to fight?
He would humor her.
It was poetic, he supposed. This time, he would be on the receiving side. Poetic and stupid. But teenagers were allowed to be stupid occasionally.
After the match began, of course, he realized that he was no match for her. The fist busted apart his guard and impacted his stomach.
"Have you really thought about what you were doing in this event, Hans?" Yaoyorozu said, before dragging him back up. "You say you're just analyzing. It's just psychological tactics. That you're just providing distractions in order to get further."
"Am I wrong?" Hans said, right before ducking under a telegraphed punch.
"But you don't realize that what you say is true." Yaoyorozu said. "Or, at least, the closest to truth that most of us have ever heard. You're observant. Too observant. So observant that you're almost blind to half of the world."
Hans fell silent. Feeling the aches and pains on his legs and arms, he slowly stood up again.
"You're incredibly twisted. You're as broken and as wrong as the people that you insult." Yaoyorozu said. "And your words are actually causing an impact."
Hans feebly blocked a punch.
"On Midoriya."
Hans took a kick to the knees.
"On Todoroki."
Hans was pushed down onto the ground.
"On me, when you kept arguing with me about the budget. On Ojiro, when you gave him that sheet of blue paper as well. And the most terrifying part is? What you said could be right. You've filled us with doubt for our lives and our purposes that can be justified with logical thought. Is that a good thing? Or were those statements just childish ramblings because you refuse to see what good there is in society?"
"My words…" Hans rasped. "Are a poison. One that seeks to address your deepest flaws and find your weakest points."
"Then, were you just trying to manipulate us?" Yaoyorozu yelled. "To treat us like we're characters on a page? To be dissected in a literary analysis?"
Hans said nothing. For some reason, the smell of rust and aged iron filled his nose. It was probably the blood.
"...You hate yourself, don't you?" Yaoyorozu muttered.
Hans looked up at the sky, then slowly tried to sit up. He failed. He was truly at the end of his rope. But with what little elevation he managed to achieve, he strained… and saw Yaoyorozu's eyes at the edge of his vision.
Despite what she was saying and what she was doing, she… cared. She cared for the bad-attitude, cynical little asshole that he was.
"We aren't just two dimensional characters." Yaoyorozu said. "We all have our flaws. I realized that I had a serious self esteem issue. But I'm not only my flaws, am I? Your insistence on discovering the flaws of literally everybody you meet is infuriating."
"Why are you still here, then?"Hans rasped. "Speaking to me? Why are Ojiro and Kirishima still sticking around?"
"Because despite everything, I think that deep down, you still care. About yourself. About us. About this world that you say is poisoned and wrong. So don't make it so hard on yourself, okay? You don't have to hate yourself. You don't have to push away us and our own good intentions just because you think that you don't deserve any of it."
Yaoyorozu lifted Hans by the collar, and looked into his eyes.
"See the better half of the world. See the better half of the people, more importantly, see the better half of yourself."
He was pushed out of the ring. His legs felt weak as he was corralled towards the edge, and eventually, like a limp doll, he hit the grass that lined the outside of the white line. It was a thin line. So incredibly thin, but it divided the win from the loss. The jubilation from the despair.
"Yeah…" Hans mumbled, feeling his eyes slowly droop close. His head was dizzy from the one push that Yaoyorozu landed on him… and everything that had happened before on this god-forsaken sports festival.
Every ache and sore, every wind-blown scratch, every bit of previously half-frozen skin, every burn, and every curse caught up to his senses at that moment.
But it didn't hurt as much as it should have. For some reason, despite everything looking so blue, there was a tint of gold to the edge of his vision.
It didn't matter that he was probably trapped in a manga. There were still people here that he cared about. The parents of this life. That trio of idiots. Even maybe that one reformed villain.
Did it matter that they were probably just characters in a dubious manga? As long as there was more depth to them than tropes, which there were, maybe this world was sort of real to him.
Hans knew he was cynical. That this infuriating setting only compelled him to see the negatives. But without seeing the whole picture himself, as an author, how could he write a healthy narrative?
"Before I add depth to this shallow, badly written world…" he muttered. "The one that might need to change the most… is me."
This time, Hans Christian Andersen was human again.
AN
Aha! An MC in a fanfic that actually changes!
This was always the plan, even though everything that I said in the last AN holds true. This was the endgoal. To make Hans realize that he needed to change. Of course, it's been twisted into literary metaphors, but that's Hans for you.
Keep in mind that this never was a bash fic. It was what Hans would do in MHA, and i never pretended that this was a consequence less fic where MCs could roam about and do whatever the hell they wanted. Hans was sort of being manipulative by saying… very infectious words, and it's clearly worked. Even some of the readers agree fervently with it. And, of course, Yaoyorozu would retaliate. Despite being one of Hans's friends, she was also one of the first victims of Hans's twisted words.
The Kirishima vs Bakugo fight will be next, and I'll start production on that now, so expect it at least next week. Exam season is coming up though, so even though I got into a college, I still have to try on those. Updates will be hella slow throughout mid April and early May.
PLEASE review to let me know how I did. I am not confident at all in my portrayal of this character twist. I was agonizing over this for like four to five hours while I grinded some notes. I don't normally beg for reviews (the last time I did this was when the court case arc was beginning), so when I do, you know it's sort of serious.
Discord link: discord . gg / 9t9MK3jHmV
I hope you forgive me for faking some of the word count with this AN.
-SpiritOfErebus