The Symbol of Peace and Justice
Chapter 20 – Two Worlds Collide
What felt like a tsunami washed over Gohan, leaving him chilled to the core. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened, his heartbeat having stilled as his mind replayed the last few seconds on repeat.
Each viewing proved more painful than the last.
A heightened round of sobbing from Uraraka snapped him out of his trance, and his eyes regained some of their lustre. His jaw clenched, and his fists trembled; his heartbeat had returned, but was now revving up like a race car.
A light breeze blew through the hall, but Gohan paid it no heed, his feet staying rooted to the ground while his whole body shook. Deep inside, the once-simmering fames burning within him had come alive, and were roaring like a blazing inferno.
"Unforgivable…" he ground out through gritted teeth and jagged, harried breaths.
Something slick rubbed against the tips of his fingers, letting him know he'd clenched his right fist hard enough to draw blood. His anger swelled, but his voice remained barely above a whisper.
"Bakugo… you're not getting away with this…"
"Son, you need to chill, like right now!" Sato exclaimed, having shot up to place his hands firmly on the demi-Saiyan's shoulders, but to no effect. "Bro, please, you're freaking me out! And you're… glowing!" he added quietly.
Now that did get through, and Gohan huffed out a long, deep breath as he dug deep into the recesses of his mind, to dredge up a fond memory of the celebratory feast he'd had with his father, back when he'd first learnt to control Super Saiyan. His anger abated – but he knew it would return.
Still, at least the shaking stopped.
Gohan breathed out once more, and fixed his best friend with his most grateful smile. "I'm sorry. And thank you," he remarked, quickly realising that the moment he'd started leaking ki, Sato was up on his feet and shielding him from Uraraka's view. His heart warmed, and it was a pleasant warmth for a change. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Honestly, you'd probably be locked up in a lab somewhere," Sato replied, the corner of his large lips quirking ever so slightly.
"Probably," Gohan agreed, moving past the boy to face Uraraka, to whom he bowed his head. "I'm sorry if I startled you."
"It's okay, y-you didn't," Uraraka mumbled between sniffles. "It's n-nice that Deku has friends who care about him."
Threading a trembling hand through his hair, Gohan took a seat on the floor opposite the girl, and Sato plopped down beside him. He swallowed thickly, hating what he was about to ask, but he needed answers. "How… certain is Recovery Girl that his burns might not fade?"
Uraraka's laboured breathing hitched, and she choked out another sob. "Sh-she's not! But they were so bad she couldn't rule it out!"
"So there's still a chance he'll be okay," Gohan stated. His features softened. "I know it's hard, but hold on to that hope, Uraraka. Trust Recovery Girl. She's the best in the business for a reason."
"I'll try," Uraraka murmured, pulling up her legs and resting her chin on her knees. Her cherubic face, normally so bright and full of life, was etched in sorrow.
Feeling his heartbeat pick up once more, Gohan rose to his feet.
"Son?" Sato inquired quietly.
"I'm going to go wait for my match to start," Gohan exclaimed, his tone stern and serious. "The sooner this joke of a sports festival ends, the better."
"You want me to come with you?"
"Nah, I'll be good. I need some time to meditate," Gohan replied. A sigh slipped from his lips. "You guys should probably go relax somewhere else though, to try take your mind off things. Trust me when I say it won't do you any good to dwell on negative emotions. There's nothing more you can do here."
He meant this more for Uraraka, but it'd be nice if Sato listened too. The guy was normally so silly and upbeat, that seeing him in such a dour mood just felt wrong.
Uraraka didn't budge, but Sato was more receptive. "Come on, let's go chill in the waiting room," he told her. When she didn't respond, he grimaced, but still forced out a shaky smile. "Look, I'll brew us up some tea, and then we can watch Son beat Bakugo's ass. How's that sound?"
This time, Uraraka did lift her head, a tiny hint of surprise visible on her tear-stricken features. "You drink tea?"
"Of course I do!" Sato affirmed, sounding rather affronted, albeit exaggeratedly. "Son got me hooked on the homemade stuff – the really good shit. He even taught me a few tricks of the trade."
Despite herself, Uraraka giggled. "That does sound kind of appealing."
"Right?" Sato agreed, a cocky grin now out in full force. "Come on. It'll be worth it, trust me."
"Alright," Uraraka mumbled. She wiped her eyes with her thumb and forefinger, then slowly shuffled to her feet. After letting out a slow exhale, she shot Sato a strained smile. "Thank you."
He grinned in response and beckoned for her to follow him, but not before nodding Gohan's way. In the fleeting moment their eyes met, the demi-Saiyan could feel the faith Sato had in him; he knew his best friend well enough that they could sometimes communicate without words, and this was one of those moments. It genuinely touched him.
Unfortunately, whatever warmth the gesture generated quickly evaporated when Sato and Uraraka disappeared down the hall, and a firm frown found its way to Gohan's face. With his brow furrowing in kind, he shoved his hands in his pockets and set off on his way, his thoughts fixed on one thing – and one thing only.
He was the first to arrive at the tunnel leading the arena, so he leaned against the wall and shut his eyes. He knew meditating would be a tall order right now, but he needed to get his rage under control. He'd almost screwed up big time by-
"How's Deku?"
Gohan's eyes slowly slid open, and his mouth morphed into a scowl. Bakugo Katsuki's voice was already grating at the best of times, but now the effect was magnified a hundredfold. "What do you care?" he shot back.
Bakugo's eye twitched, and he situated himself against the opposite wall, arms crossed. "I don't. I'm just curious."
"Of course you are," Gohan spat. "I suppose it was too much to hope you'd show even a sliver of remorse for what you did."
"I did what I had to do to win," Bakugo huffed.
Gohan cast a wary gaze over his next opponent, finding some satisfaction in the faint bruises dotting his skin, and the crudely placed bandage on the bridge of his nose. Midoriya put in a brilliant showing; he didn't deserve to go out the way he did.
Gohan's lip curled just thinking about it. "You're so full of shit."
Bakugo's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Speak for yourself, freak. I wonder which version of you I'm going to see in our match," he pondered tauntingly, eyes widening for emphasis. "The one that fucked up Purple Hair? Or the one that toyed with Raccoon Eyes? Or maybe, just maybe, you're gonna bust out a completely new persona all for little old me!"
"Trust me, that's the last thing you should be worried about," Gohan growled.
"Is that a threat?" Bakugo fired back.
"What do you think?"
Bakugo's skin reddened to the shade of a rotten tomato, and his body trembled in barely contained rage. Gohan was morbidly curious about whether he'd pushed enough buttons for a genuine nuclear meltdown, but to his immense surprise, the volatile blond let out a slow, deep breath, and snorted. "Tch. You have no idea how long I've been looking forward to exposing you as the fraud you are."
Trying not to let his confusion show, Gohan sighed wearily and shook his head. "You are the epitome of delusion."
"And you're like a boil on my ass that refuses to go away."
"The feeling is mutual."
Bakugo smirked. "I'm going to fuck you up so bad, not even your parents will be able to recognise you… oh wait, I forgot. You don't have any."
"Hilarious," Gohan scoffed, unable to resist rolling his eyes. "I'd tell you to give up the hero business and try being a comedian, but you'd probably fail at that too."
"Eat shit and die!" Bakugo barked.
"Well done!" Gohan exclaimed, giving the blond a mocking round of applause. "You've just described the three main functions of every living creature on this planet. Do you feel proud of yourself?"
"Do you?"
Gohan moved to respond, but his retort died in his throat. For whatever reason, that last barb stung more than he cared to admit. Now that the question had been posed – no, he didn't feel proud. He didn't want to acknowledge it, but he really, really, really didn't want to let Bakugo have the last word. So, he crossed his arms and furrowed his brow another inch further. "Certainly," he lied. "I thought it was rather clever. Didn't you?"
"No, dumbass! I didn't use any commas!"
"Could our two finalists make their way to the ring," Present Mic announced, much to Gohan's relief.
He moved off the wall and to the centre of the tunnel, facing towards the arena. As though trying to taunt him, Bakugo slithered up beside him. "Any last words?"
His cruel smirk had returned, and Gohan tried to ignore how much that one simple look got under his skin. His digits pressed against his tensed bicep, and a number of venomous barbs flitted through his head, but he held them in.
He inhaled sharply through the nose, then exhaled slowly out the mouth, expelling the nasty words at the tip of his tongue. By the time he was done, all that lingered behind was a single cruel retort – and Gohan just couldn't help himself. "Yeah. I hope you've washed your neck."
Bakugo froze, then sneered, a cocky smirk casually falling into place on his face. "Ooh, finally showing your true colours? I sure as shit hope so. It'll make breaking you all the more worthwhile."
This time, Gohan didn't bite back. He already hated that he'd stooped so low, and he really didn't want to sink any deeper. From now on, he'd let his actions do the talking.
His resolve now clear, he strode into the arena and took up a spot on one side of the ring, paying no mind to the rain of applause being showered upon him. Bakugo followed suit, positioning himself directly opposite Gohan.
Their eyes made contact, and neither wanted to be the first to break it.
"Ladies and gentlemen, it is my absolute pleasure to present to you the main event of this year's sports festival!" Present Mic roared. "Both Son Gohan and Bakugo Katsuki have overcome numerous trials and tribulations over the course of the day, and both have emerged as the top two heroes-in-training of their year! But… only one may rise to the peak of the mountain!
"Will it be Son? Will it be Bakugo? I can't say for sure, but I can say this: to the thousands in attendance, and the millions watching around the world… LET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE!"
Midnight stepped between the two finalists and levelled a stern look at the pair of them. "I don't want any funny business this time. What I say goes; if I say stop, you'd better damn well stop. Failure to obey my instructions will result in an instant disqualification. Is that clear?"
Gohan nodded.
Midnight shot Bakugo a deadly glare. "Is that clear?"
His eye twitched, and his lip curled nastily, but he did eventually nod.
"Begin!"
Bakugo blasted forward like a rage-fuelled fighter jet, his scowl so severe there was literal spittle flying from his mouth. Despite this, Gohan remained unmoving; his eyes were locked on his opponent's, and his feet were rooted to the spot. His expression was stern, yet serene, its intention being to project just how little of a threat the volatile blond actually was.
Gohan genuinely doubted Bakugo had the mental capacity to read human emotions to that level, but it was the thought that counted. Still, given the way his frown twisted ever so slightly, maybe he wasn't completely lacking brain cells.
When Bakugo finally drew close enough to attack, he pulled back his right arm, then flung it forward with a pitiful war cry. Just before it struck, Gohan's vision darkened.
An explosion sounded, followed by another. A third explosion was heard, then a fourth, and a fifth, and even a sixth. There was a brief pause, then the explosions resumed, and this time they didn't die down.
What felt like a series of mosquito bites peppered Gohan's head, arms and torso – but mainly his head. They left behind an admittedly grating ringing in his ears that was almost irritating enough to draw a scowl.
Time ticked on, and so too did the explosions. At the ten-second mark, there was still no sign of them stopping, but if he dialled his focus up a bit, Gohan could faintly make out the crowd cheering like they'd lost their minds. Now that did make him frown.
It took sixteen seconds for the sports festival's emcee to finally make his presence felt. "I can't believe what I'm seeing, folks!" Present Mic roared amid the ongoing blasts. "The tournament favourite… the undefeated tournament favourite and undisputed Number One of the hero course is trapped in a fiery vortex from which there seems to be no escape! I can see neither hide nor hair of Son Gohan, but Bakugo Katsuki is leaving no stone unturned as he tries to bathe the stage in a sea of flames! Yowch! Talk about turning up the heat!"
It was here that things finally changed. The rate at which the explosions came lessened just a fraction, and the roar of the crowd raised another couple octaves. Strained panting could be heard amid the eruptions, but the assault persisted.
After exactly twenty-seven seconds, the explosions ceased for good, and an awestruck gasp rumbled through the audience.
"Howitzer Impact!"
A sudden warmth enveloped Gohan's body, as if a heated blanket had been thrown atop him. It actually would've felt comforting, had it not been for what sounded like a grenade launcher going off in his ear.
Once the blasts died down, a tense silence spread across the stadium, broken only by Bakugo's exhausted huffs. The thick smog polluting the stage gradually evaporated, and the sun's shining rays slowly poked through the dwindling darkness.
With each passing second Gohan's vision cleared, and when the smoke had dimmed just enough to give him full view of Bakugo, he saw the haggard blond's jaw drop as if pried apart by a crowbar.
The crowd erupted in raptures, and Present Mic hollered like a lunatic. "WOW! I'm-I'm almost at a loss for words, folks!" he bellowed breathlessly. "Bakugo unloaded a literal nuclear arsenal on Son, but Son brushed it off like it was- oh…" he trailed off as a few appreciative whistles hit the ring. "Well, that makes sense at least. Wow."
By now the smoke had fully cleared, and Gohan didn't need to look down to know what had happened; the light breeze brushing against his sweat-slicked skin told him enough. While Bakugo's pathetic onslaught hadn't so much as scratched him, it had burnt off his jacket and singlet, leaving his torso exposed to the elements. It certainly wasn't ideal, but at least he could still feel his pants rustling against his legs. A small consolation.
After wiping a river of sweat off his brow, Bakugo fixed Gohan with a vicious glare. "H-how?" he sputtered.
He didn't get a reply.
A tick formed on Bakugo's temple, and his trembling hands slowly clenched into fists. "You slimy rat bastard," he seethed as feeble sparks sputtered across his fingertips, only to wither and die. "I'll fucking murder you!"
With a furious snarl, he lunged forward and drove a right haymaker into Gohan's forehead; it hit with a resounding thunk, and Bakugo let out a shrill cry as he staggered backwards, cradling his hand.
A muffled curse spewed from his lips, but he shook off the pain and dove in once more, this time drilling a left hook into Gohan's ribs; it too bounced off, only with a dull thud that had the blond wincing. "Ahh, fuck! What the hell is your skin made of?" he spat between pants.
Unperturbed, Gohan remained mute.
Gritting his teeth in tangible frustration, Bakugo let out a shaky exhale, then closed the distance a third time and unloaded a frenzied barrage of punches, each one punctuated by a manic whine. "Don't! Ignore! Me! When! I! Ask! You! A! Fucking! Question!"
"Holy moly!" Present Mic howled, his voice struggling to be heard over the near-deafening cheers of the crowd. "Bakugo's wailing on Son with everything he's got, but Son's just standing there and taking it! What a spectacular show of defiance!"
Bakugo halted his assault to scream at the heavens, then slammed his forehead into Gohan's own. "Just fucking DIE already!" he roared.
It took everything Gohan had to not recoil in disgust when his vulgar foe's spittle peppered him from point-blank range, but he held his ground.
Perturbed, Bakugo backed off. He spat out a glob of phlegm, then narrowed his beady crimson irises in the demi-Saiyan's direction. Unfortunately for him, the severity of his glare was greatly diminished by all the huffing and puffing he was doing. It almost made Gohan feel an iota of concern.
Still, Bakugo straightened his back, and his frown deepened. "Why aren't you fighting back?"
Gohan blinked. "Because I don't need to lift a finger to beat you," he admitted, before remembering he'd planned to stay silent the whole fight. Oh well. "You're doing a fine job of that yourself."
"You…" Bakugo hissed as his body started to shake, and his skin slowly turned a vivid scarlet, as though he were a ticking timebomb. "You evil fucking bastard! Stop looking down on me!"
"No."
The bomb went off, and Bakugo exploded forward to unleash another wild bevy of punches, with a few kicks thrown in for good measure. They had no effect.
He paused to bellow in frustration once more, then dug his feet in, slammed his palms against Gohan's torso, and pushed so hard his face turned bright and bloated. The demi-Saiyan didn't budge.
Ceasing his heaving, Bakugo stepped back and let his hands drop to his knees. He sputtered and wheezed, but his exhaustion was so severe that even that looked strained and laborious.
The corner of Gohan's lip quirked just a fraction. "Had enough?"
Hocking another loogie, Bakugo shot Gohan a spiteful stare. "I was right all along," he huffed. "This is nothing but a game to you. You're no hero. You're just a freak with powers he doesn't deserve."
Whatever schadenfreude Gohan felt vanished, and a boiling fury overcame him. That hypocritical little worm.
An ugly frown now adorning his features, he curled his left hand into a fist and raised it; Bakugo flinched, and Gohan hesitated just a second before morphing his fist into a claw-like grip, and clamping down on the blond bastard's right shoulder. "I'm no hero? I'm a freak?" he whispered, deriving a sick satisfaction when his foe struggled desperately – and failed miserably – to pry his hand off. "That's rich, coming from a lowlife bully who encourages his victims to kill themselves."
Bakugo stopped squirming, and his eyes widened. "That fucking snitch!"
"Don't you dare pin this on him!" Gohan growled, pushing down and forcing a now squealing Bakugo to his knees. "He hasn't done anything to deserve your scorn! Even after all the shit you put him through, he didn't want to say anything! I'm the one that begged him to open up, and he only did so because he felt he owed me!"
Despite the pained exertion straining every inch of his face, Bakugo managed a sardonic laugh. "C-can't say I'm sur…prised! Ret-tards tend to attract other retards!"
Gritting his teeth hard enough to make his jaw ache, Gohan let go and hastily averted his gaze. 'God fucking damnit!' he cursed inwardly.
"Wh-what happened to not needing to lift a finger to beat me?" Bakugo stammered shakily as he staggered to his feet, where he wobbled on the spot. "Ar-are you a liar as well as a freak?"
Shutting his eyes, Gohan inhaled deeply, then exhaled just as strongly, expelling much of the rage threatening to consume him. When he reopened them he felt a tad lighter, but a good deal of anger still simmered beneath the surface; no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't ignore the vile piece of subhuman filth standing before him.
Still, he put on a calm face and loosened up a bit. "My arm was getting stiff. I needed to give it a stretch," he remarked casually, shaking said limb for emphasis. "Shall we pick up where we left off?"
Bakugo charged again, and managed six pathetic punches before hunching over to catch his breath. It looked like he was struggling to even stay on his feet, but nevertheless, he pressed on. "Just! Fucking! Die!" he roared as he continued swinging, his knuckles looking red and raw.
"Doesn't feel good, does it?" Gohan taunted.
"Fuck you!" A wild haymaker flew at his head.
"Maybe now you'll show a bit of remorse for spending your entire life treating everyone around you like dirt."
"Fuck off, you lying fuck!" A sloppy hook hit his temple.
"You're quick to throw around that accusation, but isn't all your bravado just a crutch to mask your own crippling insecurity?"
"Kill yourself!" A feeble punch struck his gut, and Gohan couldn't help but shake his head.
"Again with this crap? How many blows to your ego is it going to take for you to realise that your words have weight? That they have consequences?" he pressed as his foe staggered forward like a drunkard. "Have you ever stopped to think about what would happen if someone took your threats to heart? Or if you ended up pissing off the wrong person?"
"Shut up!" A desperate headbutt slammed into his mouth.
Letting out a sigh, Gohan wiped his lips with the back of his hand. "You know what? I might just do that. Talking people out of being jerks has never been my strong point." He relaxed his posture even more, then opened his arms invitingly. "Come on then, hero. I can do this all day."
"Wowee, who saw that coming?" Present Mic hollered. "Now we can add trash talking to the list of Son's many talents!"
The crowd roared their approval, and Bakugo's already steaming visage somehow turned a shade more crimson. With a furious cry, he leapt forward with his right fist pulled back, and slammed a haymaker directly on Gohan's cheek, only for a sickening crunch to make him recoil in shock.
Gohan's eyes widened. 'Was that-'
Unperturbed, Bakugo reared his left hand, and landed a hook upon Gohan's ribs; it too led to gruesome crack, and this time the volatile blond staggered back, his mouth agape.
Gohan's heart sank. 'No…'
Bakugo surged forward once more unloaded a wild right cross, which Gohan avoided with a tilt of the head. A left hook was ducked under, a right uppercut was leant back from, and a left haymaker hit nothing but air. "Stand still!" the blond bellowed, bits of blood flicking off his knuckles as he swung.
Gohan couldn't believe it. "Are you insane? You're going to mutilate your hands!"
"Shut the fuck up!" Bakugo kept swinging.
"Stop being an idiot!"
"You stop being an idiot!"
"You moron! I'm trying to look out for you!" Gohan countered, just in time to dodge another haphazard swing.
"I don't need you to do shit for me!" Bakugo retorted with reckless abandon. "I'm going to be the next Number One, no matter what it takes!"
Gohan caught an incoming punch by the wrist. Bakugo seethed, then lashed out with his free hand; it too was caught. The demi-Saiyan peered into his opponent's bloodshot eyes. "And what if you break along the way?"
"Whatever it takes," Bakugo fired back, not a trace of doubt in his tone.
Gohan let go with just enough force to make Bakugo stagger. He blinked, and in the blond's place stood Midoriya, panting heavily, and sweat dropping off him in rivulets; almost tangible fatigue radiating from every pore. Despite his overwhelming exhaustion, his eyes still blazed with determination.
One blink later, Bakugo was back. 'Was this what Midoriya spoke of?'
Gohan was instantly taken back to their trip to a nearby ice cream shop two days prior. They'd just finished their training, and as a reward for his protégé's hard work, Gohan decided to treat him to something nice.
A pretty, ashen-haired server placed a small cup with numerous coloured balls in front of Midoriya. "For our new customer." A giant goblet was then placed in front of Gohan, filled to the brim with so many delectable delights of all sorts it resembled a literal rainbow. "And for our favourite customer, the usual."
Gohan struggled to tear his eyes away from the magical concoction, but managed just long enough to flash the server a smile. "It looks as amazing as ever, Yuki. Thank you."
Yuki giggled. "You're most welcome, Gohan! Enjoy, boys!"
As she waltzed off to tend to someone else, the duo dug in. "Pretty good, right?" Gohan asked in between mouthfuls.
"It's amazing!" Midoriya replied. "I had no idea this place existed."
Gohan chuckled. "One of the first things Sato and I did when we got to U.A. was explore the surrounding areas, to see what kinds of cool places we could find. This was one of them." He scratched his chin in thought. "Enzo's Bakery is also really good; it's just a couple blocks away. The guy who runs it claims to have served the mafia back in America."
Midoriya's spoon stopped before it touched his lips. "Th-the mafia? You don't think he was being serious, do you?"
"Who knows," Gohan said with a shrug. "It's his business, not mine. All that matters to me is that he's here, has no criminal record, and makes a damn good cannoli."
"I see." Midoriya looked pensive. "And Sato feels the same way?"
"Yep."
"Must be nice, having a friend who thinks on the same wavelength," Midoriya mumbled.
Gohan blinked, catching wind of an opening to a question that had been bugging him for a while. He cleared his throat. "You know, I've been meaning to ask: what's the deal with you and Blasty?"
Midoriya froze. "P-pardon me?"
Gohan winced. "Sorry, I don't mean to pry. I was just curious. You're so nice to the guy, but all he does is treat you like crap." He sighed. "Forget I brought it up. It's none of my business."
Midoriya put down his cup and clasped his hands together. "No need to apologise, I get why you're curious. Kacchan and I… it-it must be really weird, looking at it from the outside."
"Well, yeah," Gohan confirmed. "For two people who are supposedly old friends, it's a very, ahh, one-sided friendship."
Midoriya chuckled mirthlessly. "It is, isn't it?" He averted his gaze from the table and cast a contemplative stare out the window. Gohan took a few measured bites of ice cream, before his green-haired friend turned to face him. "Alright. If you really want to know, I'll tell you."
"You don't have to if you don't want to," Gohan offered. "Like I said, it's none of my business."
"It's fine," Midoriya said with a shake of the head. "After all you've done for me, it's the least I can do."
Gohan nodded, slowing the pace of his eating. "I'm listening."
And listen he did, as Midoriya recounted his early childhood, to Blasty discovering his Quirk, to the way their relationship changed as the years went on.
He stayed silent as Midoriya talked about his own Quirk failing to materialise, to Blasty's increasing popularity, to the way their teachers egged on his worsening behaviour.
He almost lost it when Midoriya talked about the depths Blasty- no, Bakugo, had sunk to over the course of his bullying, but he held it together; the ice cream definitely helped, although its sublime sweetness was noticeably soured by what he was hearing.
And now, being stood opposite the very same Bakugo who had caused his friend so much pain, Gohan was reminded of a particular part of Midoriya's story.
"I know how it sounds, but please don't hate Kacchan. He's just a product of society – of having everyone around him praise him from the moment he got his Quirk. That level of attention… it would mess with anyone's head, let alone a kid's. And yet, despite it all, he's still pushing himself so, so hard to be a hero like All Might. I know what he did wasn't right, Son, but I can't help but admire him."
Shaking the rest of the memory away, Gohan was awash with disgust. He was repulsed. He'd let his anger get the better of him – again – and someone he should've been protecting got seriously hurt.
This was no way for a hero to behave.
Was it messed up how hero society had devolved to a level where Bakugo's behaviour was enabled and encouraged? Absolutely.
Was it rotten to the core, to the point that children pummelling the crap out of each other in the human equivalent of cockfighting was a televised spectacle? Without a shadow of a doubt.
But this… wasn't the right way to respond. It wasn't the right example to set.
A tired sigh slipped from his lips, and Gohan strode forward. Bakugo flinched, but still raised his trembling arms in a rudimentary guard, uncaring of the blood from his broken knuckles dripping down his wrist. As though he could sense the change in atmosphere, he scoffed. "I don't want your apology."
"Wasn't gonna give you one."
Bakugo's eyes bulged. "Wha-"
A swift punch to the gut had him hunching over Gohan's fist. Slowly stepping back, the demi-Saiyan let his opponent crumple to the floor, unmoving.
He cast a melancholy look at his downed foe. He knew what he did was wrong, but he couldn't bring himself to apologise to such a horrible person.
He did, however, respect the warrior in him enough to let him go out on his shield.
Midnight was suddenly beside him, raising her whip in finality. "Son Gohan wins!"
The crowd erupted with such velocity, it felt as if Vesuvius had woken from its slumber.
"There you have it, folks! That's a wrap for this year's sports festival, and what an electrifying way to end it!" Present Mic roared. "Let's hear it for our brave runner up, Bakugo Katsuki, and our indomitable champion, Son Gohan!"
Said champion did his best to drown out the noise. Although he was technically the winner, he really didn't feel like one.
"Just a heads up, but you should probably raise your hand," Midnight suggested.
Gohan groaned, but acquiesced. The resulting cheer seemed to shake the stadium.
"I'm guessing you aren't up for a victory speech?"
"Not unless you condone me telling them off for being a pack of bloodthirsty savages," Gohan grumbled.
Midnight snorted. "Yeah, probably not the smartest idea." Her features softened. "Go on, kid. Go see your f-"
"Bakugo, stay down! You're hurt!"
Snapping his eyes to the commotion, Gohan saw a dazed Bakugo hobbling towards him, arms outstretched menacingly. The doctors on hand were scrambling to restrain him, but he pressed on, lip curled in an ever-familiar snarl despite his eyes having lost their light.
A frown slid onto Gohan's face. 'This guy…'
Then, as if a switch had been flipped, Bakugo stopped. He blinked, and the colour returned. Head slowly turning to take in the scene, his eyes eventually found Gohan's, and his brow creased, before a sigh slipped from his lips. Like a fire being extinguished, whatever rage he was exuding simply dissipated.
The doctors tried to guide him back onto the stretcher, but he shoved them away and walked off, his gait surprisingly steady.
Midnight clicked her tongue. "Boy, that kid is a real piece of work."
"You don't know the half of it," Gohan groused, wearily rubbing his temples.
Despite his broken knuckles, despite his exhaustion, and despite being literally unconscious, Bakugo still wanted to fight – and he knew exactly who his target was. This guy's drive was almost otherworldly. Maybe… just maybe, Gohan could finally understand, perhaps to a marginal degree, exactly what his deal was.
A light breeze tickled his bare chest, bringing him back to his senses. He cringed at the unfortunate reminder. "Can I go now?" he asked Midnight. "I really need to get some new clothes."
As though understanding his discomfort, Midnight smiled warmly. "Of course, Son. Just make sure you're back in thirty minutes for the award ceremony. If you're not, I'll have to go find you and drag you out myself, and believe me, I really don't want to do that."
Gohan winced. The last thing he wanted to do was be strung up on display like some pampered diva, but he understood it was a part of the proceedings, and he'd already consented to it by deciding to take part in the festival. "Of course, sensei. Thank you."
Midnight smiled. "Glad to hear it. And hey, you did real good out there today," she added, ruffling his hair.
Gohan didn't believe her one bit, but he did appreciate the kind words, and nodded in response before taking off.
After a quick trip to the locker room to grab a fresh shirt and jacket, he hurried back to the medical bay, where he found an empty corridor. Concerned, he knocked on Recovery Girl's door, and a tense few seconds passed before it opened, revealing the elderly nurse's beaming face.
"There's our champion!" she chirped. "I was wondering how long it would take you to get here!"
"Is Midoriya ok?" Gohan asked.
"Come and see for yourself," Recovery Girl replied, stepping aside and beckoning him in.
Gohan accepted the invitation, and saw Sato and Uraraka sitting on opposite sides of Midoriya's bed. The green-haired boy was fully awake, propped up and sipping on a juice box. He looked to be in good spirits; the only indication that something was off was the padded helmet covering his head, leaving only his eyes, nose and mouth exposed.
Upon seeing Gohan, he grinned. "Son! Congrats on the win!"
Gohan blinked away his shock. "You watched the fight? Wait- never mind that. How are you?"
"I'm fine," Midoriya assured. "It looks worse than it feels, believe me."
"We got a tough cookie here," Sato remarked. "Woke up just before your match started and begged Recovery Girl to let him watch. She even let us join in."
The nurse huffed from her desk. "Normally it's against protocol, but I thought I'd be nice today."
"And your niceness won't be forgotten," Sato declared, tipping an imaginary hat to her.
"That was some performance, Son. I knew you were tough, but… wow," Midoriya exclaimed. "I didn't think anyone could take Kacchan's explosions like that and come out unscathed."
Uraraka nodded her agreement. "Yeah, that was super impressive. Now I see what these two mean when they say you're something else."
Gohan felt some heat rise to his cheeks, and scratched the back of his head. All the praise was making him mildly uncomfortable. "Ahh, you guys are too kind." He cleared his throat. "A-anyway, Midoriya, how are your burns?"
The green-haired boy's smile wavered just a fraction. "I won't know the extent of the damage until I take this thing off in a couple of days," he said, pointing to his padded helmet. "I'm sure it'll be fine though. I trust Recovery Girl."
"All Might also showed up just after you left for your match," Sato supplied. "I don't know what he and Recovery Girl did, but I bet some secret hero voodoo ritual was involved. He seemed pretty happy when he came out."
Recovery Girl scoffed. "Young man, must you verbalise every bizarre though that goes through your head?" she chastised, to which Sato had the decency to look abashed. "This is a centre of science, not witchcraft. All Might simply wanted to check up on his pupil – nothing more. What worked to Midoriya's benefit is that he was able to receive immediate medical attention. So, while I can't say for certain what the extent of the damage is, I'm positive it won't be too severe."
Gohan breathed a deep sigh of relief. "I'm… glad to hear that. Thank you, Recovery Girl."
The nurse nodded. "Now, off with you all. I need to do some final checks before I can discharge Midoriya. You may return after the award ceremony."
Sato stood up and stretched. "You heard the boss, guys – let's go. See you in a bit, Midoriya."
Uraraka looked disappointed, but did as Recovery Girl asked. "See you later, Deku."
Before Gohan followed suit, he leaned closer to Midoriya. "Sorry if I took thinks too far with Bakugo. That wasn't cool of me," he whispered.
Midoriya shook his head. "It's fine. Umm… thanks for not exposing him in front of everyone. I know how angry you must've been," he whispered back.
"Quit your lollygagging and get out already!" Recover Girl barked.
Gohan winced. "Right. Sorry, ma'am. Catch you later, Midoriya."
"See you, Son. Thanks for dropping by… and for everything you've done for me. I never would've made it this far without your help."
Despite Recovery Girl's worsening glare, Gohan couldn't help but grin. "Anytime, bro."
With a quick fist bump, he parted ways with Midoriya, and met up with Sato and Uraraka in the hall.
"So, award ceremony, huh? You must be thrilled," Sato chirped.
"Oh, piss off," Gohan groused. "Just as I was starting to get into a good mood, you had to ruin it."
"Just doing my civic duty."
Uraraka giggled. "Look on the bright side! You get a nice, shiny medal. I heard they're made out of real gold, too."
"Interesting…" Gohan mused. 'Perfect for the pawn shop then. I wonder if those guys from Vegas are still in business.'
Putting the thought aside for now, he checked his phone, and frowned when he saw it was almost time for the ceremony. "Well, duty calls. I'll see you guys when I'm done."
"See you then," Uraraka said. "We'll meet up outside the med bay?"
"Sounds good."
"Remember to be on your best behaviour; the whole world is gonna be watching," Sato teased, earning another giggle from Urakara.
Gohan flashed his friend a thumbs up, then set off, eager to get the ceremony over with.
Back outside, he saw three circular podiums set up in the middle of the arena. A handful of attendants were milling about the place, making whatever final touches they needed to.
Tetsutetsu was there too, surveying the spectacle with a wide grin. Upon seeing Gohan, his smile widened and he bounded over. "Son! Congrats on the win! You smashed it, man!"
"Thanks," Gohan replied. "How you holding up?"
"My wrist's still a bit sore, but other than that, I'm fine," Tetsutetsu answered, massaging the affected limb for emphasis. "Do you know if Midoriya's gonna come out? I'm supposed to share third place on the podium with him."
Gohan shook his head. "He's awake, but he's still receiving medical treatment. He won't be discharged until after the ceremony."
Tetsutetsu frowned. "That's a shame. He was a genuine badass in his fight." He slammed a fist into his palm. "I'm glad you gave it to Bakugo, by the way. That asshole really had it coming."
Gohan winced and tried to change the subject. "Speaking of which, have you seen him? The ceremony should be starting any minute now."
"Nah. Not that I'm complaining."
"I see," Gohan mused, displeased.
True to his prediction, the attendants finished setting up shortly after, and ushered Gohan and Tetsutetsu onto the podium. Still, Bakugo was nowhere to be seen, and now Gohan was genuinely concerned. Tetsutetsu just looked annoyed, and even the crowd was getting antsy, if their jeers were anything to go by.
A sudden unintelligible commotion caught Gohan's attention, and he turned his attention to the source, where he spotted a fuming Midnight literally dragging a red-faced Bakugo to the ring. The blond was kicking and screaming, but the whip wrapped around his legs like a lasso made escape impossible.
Gohan shuddered. Was this what she meant by her earlier threat?
Shaking the thought aside, he was relieved to note that Bakugo's hands had already been bandaged up. And, aside from his undoubtedly shattered pride, he seemed to be his usual volatile self, which was nice to see for a change.
"How many times do I have to tell you? You're not getting out of the ceremony!" Midnight growled as she pulled him along the ground.
Bakugo was having none of it. "Piss off, you old hag! Second place is for losers!"
Midnight twitched, and her frown turned feral. "Oho, now you've done it, you cheeky little brat!" Stopping just short of the ring, she pulled in her whip, swung it around her head, and flung her shrieking captive onto the stage.
"How the hell did she do that?" Tetsutetsu wondered aloud.
Bakugo's body was caught by a handful of attendants, and in a scene reminiscent of an old comedy sketch, they forced him onto the second-place podium and tied him around a stump with chains, heavy duty hand restraints, and a muzzle of all things – and not without fierce resistance. By the end of it, he didn't look too dissimilar to a caged animal on display in a circus freak show.
"Now that that's out of the way, we can finally begin the award ceremony!" Midnight declared, stepping into the ring and addressing the audience, who hooted enthusiastically.
"In third place we have Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu and Midoriya Izuku! Please excuse Midoriya's absence; he's still receiving medical treatment!"
The crowd howled in approval, and Tetsutetsu responded in kind, firing them up even more.
"In second place we have Bakugo Katsuki!"
Said blond also received a plethora of cheers, but not without an equal number of boos. He didn't seem to care though, opting instead to struggle futilely against his restraints.
"And first place goes to Son Gohan!"
The resulting roar dwarfed the previous two combined, and Gohan could see Tetsutetsu pouting in the periphery of his vision.
"To present the medals, we have the one and only All Might!"
As if on cue, the legend himself descended upon the stage, cracking the tiled floor and drawing an applause equal to Gohan's. The demi-Saiyan, meanwhile, stood at attention; this didn't happen in previous sports festivals. Just why was All Might here?
Grabbing a bronze medal from a box Midnight was holding, All Might walked up to Tetsutetsu and placed it around his neck. "Impeccable performance, young man! You may have come up short this time, but if you keep up the hard work and never slack in your training, there are no limits to how far you can go!"
"Y-you honour me w-with your words, sir," Tetsutetsu blubbered, wiping off tears with the back of his hand.
All Might chuckled and moved on to Bakugo. He paused briefly, as if contemplating the best approach, but ultimately hung the medal around the runner up's neck. He then took off his muzzle.
"-eremony is a sham! Second place doesn't mean shit! Let me off-"
"Ok, let's just move that back," All Might said with a nervous chuckle, reapplying the muzzle. His enormous hands latched onto Bakugo's shoulders, and he gazed kindly into the blond's bloodshot eyes. "Young Bakugo, your desire to be the absolute best is commendable, but you must understand that becoming a hero is a marathon, not a sprint.
"There will be setbacks, there will be hardships, and there will be heartbreaks… but there will also be triumphs, that will elicit a level of joy you've never felt before! You have all the potential in the world, my boy, but you'll never come close to reaching if you don't use those losses as opportunities to learn from your mistakes."
Bakugo shook his head in protest, but his struggling ceased when All Might enveloped him in a gentle hug; even Gohan was stunned at the sight.
"You're not alone in this journey, young Bakugo – and that's something you must come to terms with if you're ever going to succeed. You have an entire faculty of teachers willing to help you, and an entire class of comrades willing to push you… you just have to reach out and ask. No one who's made it to the top has done so on their own – and trust me, I speak from experience."
When a wink, All Might let go, leaving Bakugo unmoving on the podium.
Gohan exhaled deeply, and his heartbeat picked up the pace as time seemingly slowed to a crawl. He watched All Might pick up the last medal, then shift attention to him and stride forward with purpose, white-tipped boots clacking on the tiled arena floor.
All Might halted momentarily upon the makeshift steps planted in front of the podium, but it only lasted a second before he ascended, one precise step at a time. At the top, he smiled down at Gohan, who couldn't find it in him to return it.
"Young Son, you are an enigma that never ceases to amaze," the Number One Hero praised.
Gohan resisted the urge to avert his gaze, willing himself to lock eyes with his idol. "I don't exactly know what to say, sensei."
"You don't need to say anything, my boy. You know yourself better than anyone."
Gohan was grateful for that; the reality of his actions wasn't something he wanted to acknowledge while thousands of eyes were upon him.
"I could heap all manner of platitudes on you until the roosters crowed upon morning's first light, but you don't need to hear that. All I'll say is this: you give yourself too little credit. The challenges you face are unique to you – and you alone… but that doesn't mean you have to face them all by yourself. You have people to confide in if the burden become too much to bear.
"And if you make mistakes along the way? So what? Making mistakes is a part of being human. As long as no one got seriously hurt, there's no need to beat yourself up over them. Acknowledge them, resolve to do better next time, and move on. That's how we grow, both as people and as heroes."
Not a single response sprung to Gohan's mind, and All Might took the opportunity to place the gold medal around his neck. It was light, exactly like a feather; he barely even registered its presence.
"It is my absolute pleasure to award you this medal, young Son, and I can't wait to see you excel even more in the future."
Gohan gulped down a mouthful of emotions he couldn't quite identify. "Thank you, sensei. I needed to hear that." He really did. He also needed time to process it.
Flashing his trademark grin, All Might clapped Gohan on the shoulder and leapt off the podium, landing with aplomb in the middle of the ring. Arms outstretched, he cast his attention to the crowd, who were entranced by his every move.
"Ladies and gentlemen in attendance, I sincerely hope you've enjoyed this year's sports festival! Let's have another round of applause for our winners!"
He asked, and he received; and when he raised his hand, the clapping died down.
"To the rest of our fine competitors, who didn't make it to the podium, please do not fret, or worry, or be disappointed in yourselves! The fact that you made it to U.A. to begin with is a sign that you're special! And while you my not have had the chance to demonstrate the full scope of your talents today, this is just the start of your journeys! You have many more years to grow, and learn, and show your qualities to the world!
"Count on your friends! Count on your teachers! Encourage each other! Push each other! Keep on climbing higher and higher, and in time, you will reach the lofty goals you've set for yourselves! That, I promise you! Now, lets end this wonderful day with a cheer to remember!
"Everyone say it with me! One, two, and… PLUS ULTRA!"
"Oh. Hey, guys. What are you doing- oof!"
Gohan staggered back when Mina smothered him with a hug. "Congrats on winning the tournament, Gohan! I'm so proud of you!"
"Th-thanks, Mina," he mumbled, gently patting her back with one hand.
The pink-skinned girl pulled back, beaming. "Seriously! You kicked ass out there!"
"Hell yeah, you did!" Kirishima added, dapping up Gohan with equal enthusiasm. "I can't believe you tanked those explosions like they were nothing! You have to show me how to do that!"
"I'm, ahh, sure we can work something out," Gohan stammered. "A-anyway, what are you guys doing here?"
"We wanted to check up on Midoriya," Kirishima replied.
"They ran into us after the ceremony, so we decided to go together," Sato added, Uraraka nodding beside him.
"Any updates?" Gohan asked.
Uraraka shook her head. "Recovery Girl's still busy, so we have no choice but to wait out here."
"Nothing to it then," Gohan remarked, propping himself against the wall and slumping to the ground. A yawn slipped out, but he made sure to cover his mouth. "Make yourselves comfortable, guys. I know I will." He genuinely needed the rest.
Mina giggled and followed suit, and the others joined in too.
A few seconds of comfortable silence passed, before Sato decided to break it. "So…"
"So…" Mina echoed.
"Are we just gonna sit here like mutes, or are we gonna do something to pass the time?" he asked.
"I have a deck of cards here if anyone wants to play," Kirishima revealed, pulling it out of his pocket.
Sato grinned. "I'm down."
"Sweet!" Kirishima exclaimed. "Any of you know how to play Bullshit?"
"Umm, isn't the proper name, Cheat?" Uraraka inquired.
"Cheat? Never heard of it," Sato said, feigning ignorance.
"Me neither," Kirishima chirped cheekily.
Uraraka shot them both a mild glare, but left it at that.
Mina, on the other hand, groaned. "Can't we just play Snap? Last time I played Bullshit with you, a table ended up getting flipped over."
"That wasn't my fault!" Kirishima protested. "I genuinely had two twos! It wasn't my fault one of 'em fell off the table! And it definitely wasn't cool of Aoki to accuse me of cheating!"
Sato snorted. "Seriously? A table? Man, I wish I'd been there to see it!"
Kirishima laughed. "Bro, you have no idea! I was fuming at the time! That jerk even had the audacity to slap me when I called him out on his shit!"
Gohan smiled as he listened to his friends bicker. Shutting his eyes, he let his muscles relax, and made himself comfortable. He didn't mind what game they ended up going with; he was just happy to finally get some peace and quiet.
"Snap!"
"Damn it, Uraraka! How the hell are you so quick?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
"What's all this commotion then?" a familiar voice called as the door opened.
Gohan's eyes snapped to the source. "Doctor Shuzenji? What are you doing here?"
Doctor Shuzenji chuckled. "Well hello to you too, Gohan. Congratulations on the gold medal."
Gohan winced at his lack of manners. "Sorry, doctor, I was just surprised to see you… it's been a long day. And thank you." He bowed his head in gratitude.
"I was in the stands to watch you, but after you beat that Bakugo fellow, I figured I'd go check in on my sister, and see if she needed help with anything."
"Is Deku okay?" Uraraka asked, biting her bottom lip.
"Young Midoirya? Do not worry, my dear, he'll be right as rain," Doctor Shuzenki assured kindly, which seemed to placate the girl. "He's just getting changed. I'm sure he'll be out in a moment."
"Thank you, sir."
"You're most welcome." The doctor glanced at his watch and frowned. "I hate to shoot off so soon, but duty calls. It was lovely to meet you, children. And congratulations again, Gohan. I'll have to take you out to dinner when I have a day off from the hospital. You can come along too, Sato – you also performed spectacularly."
Gohan's mouth almost watered at the prospect; Doctor Shuzenji knew the best eateries around town. "See you later, doctor. And thanks for coming to see me. It means a lot."
"Later, doc! I'll hold you to that promise!" Sato added.
With a departing wave, Doctor Shuzenji was off. When he was far enough away, Kirishima leaned in close. "You know that guy?"
"Yeah, he's my legal guardian," Gohan answered, smiling at the retreating doctor's back. "He's a really good man. He's helped me out so much over the years."
"Makes sense he's Recovery Girl's brother," Mina mused.
Not long after, Midoriya stepped through the door, clad in his school uniform. He still had the padded helmet on his head, but he looked to be in good spirits, and when he saw his friends, his eyes lit up. "Hey, guys!"
"Hey, bro! Awesome job out there!" Kirishima praised, extending his arm for a fist bump, which he promptly received.
"Yeah, you were amazing," Mina added, to which the green-haired boy blushed. "How are you feeling, by the way?"
Midoriya grinned. "I'm great! Recovery Girl and Doctor Shuzenji patched me right up."
"Indeed, my brother's sudden appearance was a stroke of good fortune," Recovery Girl croaked, popping out from behind him. "The rest of your recovery is in your hands. You have the next two days off school, and I expect you to put them to good use! Rest up, eat three square meals a day, and drink plenty of water. I don't want you doing any physical activity that can work up a sweat, and I definitely don't want you taking that helmet off until our appointment three days from now. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, Recovery Girl," Midoriya replied, his expression shifting to something serious. He bowed to the nurse. "Thank you for all your help."
Recovery Girl waved him off, but smiled nonetheless. "Just doing my job. Now, off with you kids! I'm sure you have better things to do that mill around an old lady's workspace!"
After bidding her farewell, the six friends departed the med bay and headed home, making small talk along the way. As relaxed as the mood was, and as high as everyone's spirits were, each of them felt an underlying fatigue that only seemed to build, as if the weight of the day's events had finally caught up to them.
By the time they left the stadium proper and made for the exit gate, Sato was regaling the group with the tale of how he and Gohan had stopped some bullies in their middle school's karate club, only to inadvertently draw the ire of a local gang of delinquents recruiting people from their school.
Gohan thought he heard a commotion of some sort a bit farther along but didn't pay it any heed; he was too preoccupied with making sure Sato wasn't chatting shit. His best friend had a nasty habit of embellishing his role in certain events just to big himself up.
"So yeah, Tsukuba ended up being a total scrub, but Kis-"
Something spherical and solid was shoved in Gohan's face. "Can you explain how your Quirk works?"
A microphone? "What-"
"How do you respond to claims you used excessive force in your last match?"
Three consecutive flashes almost blinded him. Cameras? "I don't-"
"Can you explain your strategy for the sports festival?"
Something sharp prodded his chin; now he was starting to freak out. "That's none-"
"Hey, back off, jerk!" Kirishima growled, pushing away the interloper.
"Piss off, brat! This camera's worth more than you are!"
Despite his hazy vision and accelerating heartbeat, Gohan's sight had cleared just enough to reveal a horde of reporters surrounding him and his friends. His fists clenched.
One microphone was batted away by another. "Can you explain the animosity between you and Bakugo Katsuki?"
"Are you guys for real? Fuck off!" Sato snarled.
More cameras flashed, and more microphones battled for dominance, the resulting pops making Gohan's ears ache.
"What's your opinion of All Might?"
"Where are you going to display your medal?"
"Did you know that's made out of real gold?"
"-friends' rudeness!?"
"- hero name?"
"- allegations you've used steroids?"
As the questions jumbled together into an undecipherable mess, punctuated by numerous flashbangs, Gohan felt his limbs start to tingle, and his worsening vision blur even more. His clenched fists – already digging into his palms – began to draw blood.
A female shrieked. "Watch your hands, pervert!"
'Mina?'
A burning rage welled up from within, temporarily quelling his anxiety.
'You bastards…'
"Hey look! It's All Might!" Uraraka?
"What! Where?"
"All Might! All Might! Over here!"
"Run!" Sato roared.
Snapping back to his senses, Gohan saw his friends take off; Kirishima acting as a human battering ram, Midoriya hanging off Sato's broad back, and the girls bringing up the rear. Not needing to be told twice, he ran after them.
"Hey!"
"They tricked us!"
"After them!"
"Not on my watch, losers!" With a mid-air twirl, Mina expelled a wave of acid from her hands, coating the ground behind them in a thick, grey pool of toxic sludge.
The reporters at the front screamed as their shoes began burning off, while the ones behind them ceased their pursuit and hurled obscenities.
Mina grinned devilishly. "It's not enough to be lethal, but it should definitely make them think twice before pulling that crap again!"
The more distance they covered, the more the reporters' panicked wails faded. A few minutes and several sharp turns later, the group deemed it safe enough to stop running, and parked themselves in an empty alleyway.
Sato knelt down so Midoriya could clamber off, while the others tried to catch their breath.
"I can't believe those bastards ambushed us like that!" Kirishima panted.
"Yeah, like what the actual fuck?" Mina added through huffs and puffs, her hands resting on her knees.
Gohan shook his head in dismay. "Guys, I am so, so sorry. It's me they wanted to interview, and because of that, you all got caught in the crossfire."
"Bro, that is in no way your fault," Sato retorted.
Uraraka came over to gently rub his back. "Yeah, there's no way you could've known what those jerks were planning."
"Dude, that was nothing! I'd run through a brick wall for you if I had to – literally!" Kirishima exclaimed.
"He really would! I've seen him do it!" Mina confirmed with a chuckle. "I wouldn't though; I'd make a hole with my acid first."
Gohan swallowed thickly, suppressing the enormous amount of gratitude he was feeling. "I don't know what to say, guys. Thank you. That means a lot." His eyes then shifted to Midoriya, and a fresh wave of concern went through him. "Are you ok?"
"I'm fine, thanks to Sato here," Midoriya assured with a smile, clapping the large-lipped boy in the shoulder. "Thanks for that, by the way."
"Anytime, bro."
Finally accepting they were in the clear, Gohan leaned against the wall and tried to shake the tingling out of his hands.
Mina managed to stand back up and breathed a sigh of relief. "We should probably split up here, huh?"
Gohan frowned. "Are you sure? I don't want you guys to get ambushed again by those assholes again just because they know you're with me."
"Nah, we'll be right," Kirishima assured with a smile. "Ashido and I live close by, so we can go together."
Mina nodded her approval.
"And I can make sure Deku gets home safe," Uraraka offered, to which the green-haired boy blushed.
"Umm, th-thank you, Uraraka."
"I think I'll visit the arcade first," Sato declared, cracking the knuckles on his uninjured hand. "I'm real fired up after that. I think I have a real shot at beating your score on the punch machine."
Casting a final sweeping look over his five friends, Gohan didn't detect a trace of hesitation on their faces. He sighed. "Alright. But please, text me when you get home, just so I can stop worrying."
After agreeing to do so, they bid each other farewell and went their separate ways, leaving only Gohan and Sato. The former glanced down at the latter's bandaged right hand. "The punch machine? Really? With that?"
Sato smirked. "Maybe the trick was using my weak hand all along. Life is weird like that."
Gohan pursed his lips. "Don't do anything stupid, ok?"
"Right back at ya."
With a parting fist bump, Sato set off for the arcade, and Gohan took to the sky in a streak of dazzling white.
He touched down on his balcony in mere minutes, and flung open the door to his apartment before storming in and sinking into the couch. He buried his head in his hands, taking deep, measured to try get his heart rate under control. He still felt some tingling in his hands, but it had diminished to a bearable degree.
A long, sharp exhale slipped out, and he clasped his fingers together, opting to stare straight ahead while he composed himself. Now that most of the adrenaline had left his system, the overwhelming feeling threatening to boil over was rage.
He still felt anxious and annoyed, but those feelings were secondary, and slowly being dwarfed by a fury he hadn't felt since Bakugo's assault on Midoriya.
The media… those full-grown vultures, had violated not just his personal space, but his best friends', too – and that, to him, was inexcusable.
He could take their crap. He'd been listening to them spew drivel about his alter ego for years, and he'd resigned himself to attracting some modicum of attention as Son Gohan when he agreed to take part in the sports festival.
But his friends? They were an innocent party, and they didn't deserve to be ambushed like that. Then there was Midoriya. While the reporters could be excused for not knowing about his condition, surely they could see something was wrong with him; the giant helmet on his head was hard to miss.
But did they care? Of course not. As long as they got their story, it didn't matter who they inconvenienced with their invasive bullshit.
Realising his mind was taking him to dark places, Gohan stood up and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, which he promptly chugged down; it did quench some of the flames, but only a few embers.
He shuffled back out to the balcony and gazed down at the city below. Shutting his eyes, he allowed the sound of the city to fill his ears.
Sometimes it was a pleasant sound, like the chirping of birds or the gentle post-sundown breeze.
Other time it was crude, like the angry honking of motorists, or a heated argument between two competing merchants.
Despite that, there was a certain serenity to it all, that one could never experience living out in nature.
Gohan still preferred the tranquil peace of nature, no question about it… but city life had its own unique charm, and over the past few years he'd really come to appreciate it.
His eyes snapped open at the wailing of police sirens in the distance, and he frowned. Now there was one of the notable downsides to being a city slicker.
Fortunately, it was something he was more than equipped to deal with.
One quick change of clothes later, a golden blur descended from the balcony like a bullet and sped to the source of the disturbance.
'Well, that was a productive few hours,' Gohan mused to himself as he climbed up the stairs. A solid session of vigilantism always did wonders for his mental health.
His mood was so much brighter, in fact, that he even decided to take the stairs instead of the balcony for a change of pace… despite the risk of his nosy landlord sticking his ugly mug in his business.
After reaching his apartment, he unlocked the door and stepped inside, only for his nostrils to be tickled in all the right ways by the sensational scent of baked goods. It almost made him ignore the home invader parked on his couch like he owned the place. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Sato looked up from his phone and smirked. "Putting that spare key you gave me to good use."
Gohan crossed his arms and glared. "That's supposed to be for emergencies only."
"I figured this counted," Sato said with a shrug. "I know you almost lost your shit at those reporters earlier, so I wanted to see if you were ok."
Gohan felt his heart melt, and the faint tinge of annoyance at the intrusion dissipated. With a sigh, he shut the door and looked back at his best friend. "The sentiment is appreciated."
"Anything interesting happen on patrol?"
"Not really." Gohan paused to rub his chin. "Well, maybe. I took out an octopus heteromorph trying to derail a train. That was a new one."
Sato was baffled. "Why the hell would someone want to derail a train?"
"Beats me," Gohan replied as he walked into the kitchen and peered into the oven. "Triple chocolate, eh? Good choice. Anyway, it's not like I have time to question these guys on their motives."
"True. Is the train ok?"
"Oh yeah, I stopped it before it could fall off the tracks."
"Nice."
"By the way, man, I found your gold medal just lying on the couch," Sato revealed, holding up the shiny trinket. "What's up with that?"
Gohan pursed his lips. "Ahh, that thing. Yeah, I don't want it."
"You serious?" Sato's eyes bulged. "C-can I have it then?"
"If you want."
"Sweet! Now it'll be like I- hey, what gives?" he protested as the medal was snatched from his hands by a speeding blur.
Gohan snorted, placing his trophy around his neck. "I was joking."
"But you said you didn't want it!" Sato pouted.
"Doesn't mean I want you to have it. It's not cool to take credit for other people's accomplishments," Gohan chided, patting the medal for emphasis.
"Tch. Prick."
Gohan chuckled. "Someone has to keep you humble."
The pair slipped into a relaxed conversation as Sato flicked to a retro anime on the TV, just for some background noise. When the oven chimed its completion, he got up off the couch and carefully extracted the circular slab of delight within.
Gohan felt his mouth water and swallowed some saliva. "You know it's really unhealthy to eat sweets late at night, right?" he mused. "All those calories just… fester inside you while you sleep, with no place to go."
Sato snorted. "When have either of us cared about that?"
"Fair enough," Gohan conceded. "I'll brew us up some tea. Any preferences?"
"Surprise me."
"Grass it is," Gohan joked as he moved over to the kettle.
Once the tea was done and poured into two mugs, Sato cut himself a quarter of the cake, and left the rest to Gohan. They ate mostly in silence, as was normally the case when they shared meals together; they had their priorities in check.
After finishing his portion, Gohan let out a satisfied huff and reclined in his chair. "Impeccable as always," he praised, gently patting his stomach. "I could taste the milk and dark chocolate, but I couldn't for the like of me pinpoint what the third one was. I feel like it's at the tip of my tongue, but I just can't quite put my finger on it."
"Trade secret," Sato proclaimed proudly, his mouth still full of food.
Gohan laughed and finished the rest of his tea. His mother would have a fit at the lack of table manners, but he'd let his friend off this time. It was the least he could do after such a generous gesture.
Not wanting to finish too far behind Gohan, Sato grabbed what was left of his cake and shovelled it into his gob. Next, he slurped down the rest of his tea, wiped the back of his mouth with his hand, and let out a feral burp.
Gohan grimaced; now that was taking it too far.
Seeing his discomfort, Sato snickered and went to the bathroom to clean up. Gohan took the opportunity to gather up the plates and cutlery, and carry them to the sink. One of the most valuable lessons his mother had taught him as a child was to do the dishes immediately after a meal. It encouraged good habits.
He was partway through scrubbing the forks when Sato announced his return with a loud yawn. "Boy, I'm pooped. I'd better head off."
Gohan stopped cleaning and fixed his friend with a gracious smile. "Get home safe. And thanks for the cake. It was magnificent."
"Of course it was. I made it."
"For once, your ego isn't completely unfounded," Gohan teased, getting back to the dishes.
"You gonna go out on patrol again?"
"Probably." Gohan didn't want to lie. "The worst kinds of crimes tend to happen after midnight."
Sato sighed. "I know better than to try and stop you. Just… try get some rest too, ok? You're a beast, Son, but you're not a machine."
"I'll try."
Sato got one foot out the door before stopping. "Do you really have to go?" he pleaded. "Can't you just stay home for a night or two; leave it to the pros? It's their job for crying out loud."
Gohan smiled sadly as he started scrubbing a plate. "None of them can do what I do."
"And that makes it your responsibility to keep everyone safe, even though you still have to get up for school every morning?"
"We have tomorrow off."
"You know what I mean, dude!"
Gohan shrugged. "I learnt long ago that life isn't fair, and I've already made peace with that.
Sato clicked his tongue. "Now wonder Spider-Man's your favourite."
Gohan waved. "Goodnight, Sato. And thanks again for the cake."
"Take it easy, you hear me?"
"I'll… try. Not making any promises, though."
"Good enough. Later, Son."
When the door shut, Gohan proceeded to finish up the dishes, then trudged over to the couch and laid down. The moment his head touched the cushion, he felt his eyes grow heavy, and a yawn slipped out.
He still intended to go out as the Blur, one hundred percent... but maybe he'd listen to Sato and have a nap first. It didn't happen often, or even semi-often, but his best friend did dish out some decent advice on the odd occasion.
The last thing Gohan registered before nodding off was the final flavour that had stumped him several minutes earlier. 'Ruby chocolate, huh? I never would've guessed…'
AN: Hi all. It's been a while. I'm not going to make excuses for my absence, I'll just lay out the facts. A few years ago, this site went through a long period of time where anyone with an outlook email wasn't receiving any notifications. So, I decided to wait until that problem was fixed before continuing with my uploads.
I don't know how long it took, but it did eventually get fixed. If you haven't already, choose 'opt in' in the setting to get email updates. The problem was, by the time it happened, I'd completely lost interest in MHA. I thought the story jumped the shark with Deku's Quirk, I didn't like how much focus the villains were getting, and I really didn't like how the side characters – Deku's classmates – got ignored. U.A.'s colourful cast of doofuses is the main reason I got so invested in the manga in the first place, and to see them just tossed aside annoyed me. So, I just stopped reading. One thing you find as you get older is, you have a lot less tolerance for shit that doesn't interest you. To that end, I still don't know how the manga ended.
Having said that, this fic has always been at the back of my mind, and I always planned to get back to it at some point. Life, work and obligations just got in the way. I did always intend to finish it, even if it took me over a decade. Despite the issues I developed with MHA, I do have a concrete plan for how I want my story to go. And I will check out the end of the manga at some point soon, to see if I have to make any changes to align with that. My personal grievances aside, I like to adhere to canon as much as possible.
If you're a longtime reader who's still invested in this fic, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your continued support. I can't promise regular updates, but I will try my very best to get them out in a more timely manner. It helps that I'm actually looking forward to writing the next chapter; the damn sports festival burnt me out so much, that anything not related to it is a breath of fresh air.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get through an enormous backlog of reviews and PMs. Hopefully I didn't get any death threats this time. Those are never nice to read.