My Hero Academia 180 Degrees
18. Where Bakugo and Midoriya's priorities seem clear
(Segment marked with * for suggestive themes IzuxOcha)
The moon shone over the beach, reflecting on the gentle waves. Midoriya continued juggling a soccer ball with pull-ups, his feet moving with precision and strength.
Toshinori watched his apprentice in silence, his thoughts drifting to how much had changed since they first met. The fragile, scared boy who once had no Quirk was now standing before him, skillfully controlling a ball on a dark beach, determination blazing in his eyes.
—So, you've decided to try getting into UA despite what All Might told you —Toshinori recapped, breaking the silence as he crossed his arms.
Izuku gave the ball one more tap before catching it in his hands, taking a deep breath. He had come to that decision after much reflection, and even though All Might had initially discouraged him, he knew he couldn't give up.
—I didn't want to say anything until now, so you could make your own decision —Toshinori continued—, but I think I already expected this.
—Really? —Midoriya looked at him in surprise, sweat glistening under the moonlight. The ball rested between his arms, but his mind was far away, processing his mentor's words.
—You might not have noticed —Toshinori tossed a circular target into the air—, but some of the exercises we've been doing are focused on key points for UA's entrance exam.
Midoriya reacted almost instinctively. With a precise touch, the ball flew from his feet and hit the center of the target before falling onto the sand. Toshinori smiled.
—Now we'll switch to smaller balls.
As Toshinori rummaged through a large bag, Midoriya kept his gaze lowered. The ocean breeze cooled his face, but his mind was stuck on a memory he couldn't let go of. He turned slightly, looking toward the shoreline, and let his words slip out.
—You know... When I found out what happened to Kacchan with the sludge monster, the one that got away because of me… I sent an apology to All Might on his website. I explained what had happened, how much I regretted causing that trouble. But... he never responded. —Izuku pressed his lips together, the weight of that unanswered apology still crushing him—. I hope he's not angry with me.
Toshinori paused for a moment, remembering that long email he had read from start to finish. It had been one of the most sincere and heartbreaking confessions he had ever received, and he had tried to hide the smile it brought him, seeing just how deeply Izuku cared about others.
—I highly doubt that —he replied calmly, without turning to look at him.
—Before we continue, may I ask you a question? —Midoriya's voice tensed, just like his body.
—Of course, kid. Ask away— Toshinori continued rummaging through the large sports bag, his back turned, but he couldn't seem to find the balls.
Midoriya stood with his feet planted firmly in the sand, his hands clenched into fists.
Izuku took a deep breath, feeling the sand beneath his feet. The sound of the waves accompanied him, but inside, a storm raged.
—Do you believe someone like me... can be a hero?! —the shout almost escaped his throat, loaded with all the doubts and fears he had carried since childhood.
The silence that followed was unsettling. Toshinori kept searching through the bag, unfazed.
—Well, if you think about it, that's what the entrance exam is for...
Izuku froze, stunned. It wasn't the kind of response he expected, and on top of that, Mr. Yagi kept talking while still rummaging for the balls.
—... Principal Aizawa now has years of experience as a teacher, and he's the best at seeing the hidden potential in young people. And though he's strict, his methods have proven effective. On the other hand, I've never agreed with disqualifying students so quickly. I think, in the long run, that only encourages...
Toshinori finally found the balls, and when he turned, he saw Midoriya's expression said it all: Is that how I sound when I go off on long, unnecessary explanations?
Toshinori ran his hand through his hair, slightly exasperated with himself.
—Sorry, young Midoriya. I didn't realize. —Toshinori brushed the sand off his clothes and stood up—. You should know that I can be wrong too. —He chuckled lightly—. I suppose it's the result of spending so much time with you. If you're the prince of internal denial and nonsense, I've become the king with this.
Midoriya gave a timid smile.
—Come on, kid. Ask me again, and I'll give you the real answer, as I should.
Midoriya inhaled deeply, gathering all his courage once more. His feet steady in the sand, his heart pounding.
—Do you believe someone like me can be a hero?! —he repeated, his voice ringing out with strength in the empty beach.
Toshinori heard a large wave crash against a rock near the shore and waited for the sound to fade before answering.
—You can be a hero.
The statement was so simple, so direct, that it hit Izuku with unexpected force. His legs trembled slightly, and his eyes filled with tears as his chest tightened under the weight of those words. He had never understood until that moment how much Toshinori's approval meant to him. Without realizing it, that man had come to hold a place in his life as important as All Might.
Izuku brought a hand to his chest, trying to hold back his emotions, but the tears began to flow.
—We still need to work on the crying —Toshinori said, approaching with a smile—, but I believe you'll be a great hero one day, young Midoriya. You've convinced me.
Midoriya smiled through his tears, feeling that, at last, even for just a moment, that painful memory with All Might faded away.
—Thank you, sir... —he murmured, his voice breaking with emotion.
And under the moonlight, on an empty beach, Izuku found the final push he hadn't known he needed to decide to take the exam.
The sound of the drums resonated softly in the room. Bakugo kept his eyes closed, immersed in the rhythm as his hands struck the drumsticks against the drums with precision. There was an air of such deep concentration that it seemed like the music was flowing from the very core of his being. And then, in perfect synchronization, the performance came to an end. A silence filled with satisfaction enveloped the space as everyone stopped in harmony.
Jiro wiped the sweat from her forehead, smiling in a mix of amusement and admiration. She set aside her electric guitar and looked at her bandmates. Shouji still held the bass, his multiple arms resting casually over the instrument, while Kirishima, with his usual vibrant energy, stood by the microphone, still catching his breath.
—Gotta admit —Jiro said, breaking the silence as she cast an appreciative glance at Bakugo—, you impressed me with that last song. When I first met you, I thought we were doomed to play heavy rock all the time.
A mental image of Bakugo popped into her mind, like a thought bubble that everyone could see: Bakugo playing the drums with a headband on, wearing a vest, and hitting the drums with such ferocity it looked like he was about to destroy them.
Kirishima burst into laughter at the mental picture.
—I know exactly what you mean —he added enthusiastically—. I had the same impression when I first met him. Kirishima's thought bubble of Bakugo said: Die!
—You two should stop staring at me so much and focus on playing —Bakugo responded, standing up. His tone was dry, but there was a hint of pride hidden in his words—. And don't forget what you promised when I joined this band.
Jiro rolled her eyes, clearly used to his attitude.
—Yeah, yeah, I remember. I won't fall in love with you, blah, blah, blah —she replied with an exasperated air, waving her hand like she was shooing away a fly.
Bakugo didn't respond, simply raised a hand in a casual goodbye, not bothering to look back, before leaving the room in his usual carefree style.
Kirishima let out a sigh as he watched his friend leave.
—Don't take it personally, Jiro —he said in a sympathetic tone, crossing his arms—. Believe it or not, a lot of girls have confessed to him lately, and he's just fed up with the whole situation.
Shouji, who had been silent for most of the conversation, nodded slightly as he adjusted the bass strings.
—No wonder his ego is through the roof —he commented with his characteristic calm.
Kirishima shook his head, smiling.
—Quite the opposite —he replied, defending his friend—. I think, unlike when he's praised for his quirk, he still doesn't know how to handle it when it comes to girls. It makes him uncomfortable.
Jiro raised an eyebrow, skeptical.
—Bakugo, uncomfortable? I thought he was just a jerk with a superiority complex.
Kirishima laughed.
—Couldn't be further from the truth —Kirishima continued, still defending him—. I think Bakugo is genuinely one hundred percent focused on becoming the number one hero, so he hasn't even thought about taking advantage of any of the girls around him. In that sense, he's actually pretty decent.
...
. *
Midoriya tossed and turned in his bed, trapped in a dream that pulled him into a vibrant, confusing reality. He was back at the public baths, where he had found Uraraka after Himiko Toga's attack. Everything felt incredibly vivid: the foggy walls, the faint sound of water in the pool, and the desperate feeling of giving her mouth-to-mouth. In that moment, he thought he was going to lose her. Terror had consumed him entirely, but it was also a moment of revelation—an instant when he began to understand something he hadn't allowed himself to think about clearly. His feelings for her were deeper than he had admitted. And they were intense.
Now, in the dream, the scene had subtly shifted. He saw the same moment, but this time, when his lips parted from Uraraka's, it wasn't with the desperate relief of saving her. It felt more like the end of a kiss—a kiss filled with a warmth he didn't recognize. Uraraka opened her eyes, and they both smiled in a way that seemed normal, as if this moment wasn't extraordinary but part of a routine that had formed between them. Everything felt so natural, so easy.
—We should continue —suggested Uraraka, placing her hands on his cheeks before wrapping her arms around his neck.
Midoriya felt a wave of nervousness envelop him, mixed with an undeniable attraction. However, something inside him resisted, as if his body was trying to warn him of what was coming. The idea of getting closer to her, of feeling the warmth of her bare body against his, sent a flutter through his stomach—a mix of desire and panic. But Uraraka didn't seem to share that hesitation. Her fingers gently sank into the nape of Midoriya's neck, urging him to continue.
—Uraraka... —he whispered, his voice trembling as he slowly lowered himself to kiss her again.
The contact of their bodies was a clash of new sensations. He felt her breasts gently pressing against his chest, a feeling that overwhelmed him with how pleasurable and exhilarating it was. Their kisses grew more intense, and Midoriya's hands slid through her hair, caressing her soft locks as his heart pounded faster and faster.
"Stop. This isn't right," he tried to tell himself, feeling the internal struggle between the pleasure of the moment and the guilt that invaded him.
But then, Uraraka called him. Her voice was soft, yet strong enough to steal his breath. The water around them began to boil, steam filling the space, enveloping them in a mist so thick that he could barely see her face.
"Deku..." Uraraka called him once more, almost like a moan.
—Ah! —he exclaimed, waking up with a jolt.
His room was completely dark, except for the faint glow of the moon filtering through the window. The air around him was cold, but his skin was burning. He covered his face with both hands, his body trembling and his heart racing.
He had never felt so flustered in his life.
—Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry... —he muttered frantically, getting out of bed in a clumsy movement. He pulled the curtain and opened the window, letting the cool, damp night air into the room. He closed his eyes, hoping the breeze would calm his body and mind.
He stood there, taking deep breaths, trying to push the image of Uraraka out of his head. He could still feel the weight of the dream on him, as if every detail had been etched into his skin forever. Finally, he whispered—: I'm sorry... Uraraka. I didn't mean to...
Unexpectedly, Kacchan's words echoed in his mind:
"If you want any chance of getting into UA, you should forget about her. Women only cause trouble."
Izuku reflected on that.
"In his own way... had Kacchan been considerate in giving him that advice? Should he... distance himself from Uraraka? At least until he got into UA?"
However, the thought of staying away from her weighed on him more than he had expected.
He sighed, leaving the window open so the night breeze could continue flowing in. The cool air gently caressed his face, but it wasn't enough to dispel the restlessness he felt. He moved to his desk and, in a mechanical motion, turned on the lamp. The warm light filled the room, casting soft shadows on the walls. He sat down slowly, resting his head in his hands as he stared up at the ceiling, his thoughts scattered. To his right, the digital clock glowed with an unrelenting number: 4:00 a.m. Too early to get up, too late to go back to sleep.
That dream… It was the first time he had dreamt something like that. He knew what it meant, but he didn't want to become someone who only thought about those kinds of things.
Girls were definitely dangerous, he thought, remembering his first encounter with Hatsume and how Ashido had playfully hung onto his arm.
He shook his head, trying to erase those images as well.
Now that some people were supporting his dream of becoming a hero, he definitely didn't want to let them down.
The first face that came to his mind was Uraraka's. He clearly remembered her words, spoken with such conviction.
—I don't want to get in the way of your dream of becoming a hero.
Then he thought of his mother, her worried yet loving expression.
—You know I'll be scared and worried about you all the time, but from now on, I'll support you in everything you set your mind to.
The echo of Mr. Yagi's words rang powerfully in his head:
—You can be a hero.
And he couldn't forget the promise he had made to Todoroki. There was a pang of pain in his chest every time he thought about it because, so far, he hadn't been able to keep it:
—Then I'll help you, he had said back then, by the beach, after learning about Todoroki's mother's kidnapping.
And to think that Todoroki had told him:
—I feel like you're the first friend I've ever had.
—I trust that everything will turn out alright.
Now, he felt quite guilty.
There were so many expectations placed on him, so many promises made. As he spun in his chair, his eyes swept over his room. The space felt emptier than usual. The wall in front of him, once covered with All Might posters, now looked bare and lifeless.
He stood up slowly, walking toward his desk with a sudden idea. Maybe, if he organized his thoughts, if he put them into words, he could regain some control. He grabbed a small notepad from the edge of the table and stood in front of the empty wall. Tearing off a page, he stuck it in the center.
With precise handwriting, he wrote a single word: Dabi.
The name echoed in his mind, a mixture of uncertainty and determination. He returned to his desk, picking up one of his notebooks, and started going through his notes. Perhaps, if he focused on the details—on what he already knew and what he had to do—he could find the path to fulfilling every promise he had made.
Author's Notes.-
Your comments are always welcome! Thank you so much for reading, following, and liking. It always makes me smile.