Fire is comparable to Explosion.
Heat. Combustion. Exhaust. Flames. Smoke. Destruction.
These parallel manifestations of both elemental exchanges with the material world are very similar, yes.
But they are not the same.
There is a certain timidity, a sustaining light to fire that an explosion can never contain.
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I approach Kirishima, stunned by the view captivating everyone around us. The ambient blue-green lights ribboning across the black sky feel familiar against my upward gaze. The fishbowl's atmosphere is bright with ice-shaven snowflakes fluttering down on crowns and noses, and a gentle current alternates at comfortable intervals between warm and cool air—nothot and cold because that would cause, well...
"Eiji!" I explode. "What the fuck is going on?" I smack him upside the back of his hard head and stand in front of him in the moshpit. Finding him wasn't hard; Eijiro was moshing in the center of a circle pit with a ram-headed heteromorph.
"Kats! Dude! Where have you been? We've been looking all over for ya," he shouts at me. His eyes are wild, and his razor-sharp teeth are baring. "Shoto and Inasa came up with this epic idea for Tenya, man," he's panting through his words but refuses to stop dancing.
Meanwhile, I'm rigidly still. My eyes nearly pop, staring at the length of the monstrous iceberg looming over the ship's side. Shoto did this?!
"They combined their Quirks to make this epic ice sculpture wet slide that they're taking people on. I don't know about the vibey lights, though; I'm sure it's someone else's Quirk. Anyway, they announced the attraction using some cool lightning effects with Midoriya. I rode on Iida's back when he took the first ride, and, bro? It's wicked awesome! Clark Kent turned into Superman so damn quick!"
"Don't you mean Ingenium?" I frown. Tenya hates the comparison.
"Right, right. Tomato, Pro Hero," he relents, still headbashing. "Wanna take a slide?" While the heavy music does require dancers to do the most, my friend is raging harder than everyone around us.
"Wait. Lightning? Where's Deku?"
"Yeah, man! Didn't you hear that explosive series of thunderclaps earlier?"
I screw my face tight, trying to recall something...anything. I mean, I did hear...and feel...lots of commotion, but the only loud explosions I remember were my successive hard slaps to Dooshik's firm ass cheeks as he rode my dick. (Butthat's not what Kiri means.)
"Nah, I was too busy fucking." The gut-churning memory of the ship suddenly deep rocking and swaying while I was balls-deep in Dooshik's hole comes to mind. I simper a bit to myself. Kiri's face slumps, disapproving.
"Aw, dude, not that one waiter guy that was all over you from earlier? What happened to your big plan with Midoriya?" I shrug and relax my shoulders, slipping my hands into my pockets. On the flight over, when everyone had moved to the front of the aircraft to crowd Iida, I'd told Kirishima how I wanted to repair my relationship with Deku.
But Deku has been effectively avoiding me all night. Okay, not avoiding me, but with Shoto around, there was no getting through to him. I need to be alone with him again, but until I can, I deserve to have some fun, too.
"He's too up his boyfriend's ass to care about who I'm fucking right now. Anyway, I'm tryna have a good time."
"I guess that sorta explains the no-shirt look you got going on."
I rub my abs. "Yeah...what had happened was..." (one of Dooshik's vacuum tubes accidentally sucked my shirt right off my back when I licked my tongue up and down his rim) "...things got a bit filthy once Quirks got involved…" I scratch my head. "And now I'm shirtless."
Kiri shakes his head and moves around me to point at the ice mountain. "Okay... Wanna go slip and slide down one of the ice tunnels?"
I furrow my brows, offended that he continues to ask. "Hell no? Who do you take me for?"
Suddenly, I feel woozy. The swelling music and musky smells crash against my skull. The lapping waves subtly rock my body, and though mayhem surrounds me, my eyes droop. I want to go to sleep somewhere warm and dark.
With someone with a warm heart and dark eyes.
Kaminari rams into me and leans into my ear. "Well, I thought a guy trying to have fun at his boy's bachelor party. Why is your face covered in glitter? Again?"
"Where did your dumbass come from?" I shove his smug mug to the side. "Mind your business, Zappy, and where's Deku?"
Kaminari glowers and rubs his red cheek. "Sounds like somebody needs to take his own advice."
Kiri moves between us. "Last time I saw him, he was at the ice-skating pond near the bottom of the slides. He was catching up with Shoji, Sero, Shinso, and Sato," he says. It's the oddest grouping of Class A I've heard in a while, but I'll admit they'd be a well-balanced hero team in any battle. "Why? You suddenly have a change of heart?" He winks at Kami.
"Stop sharing stupid looks, you idiots, and just tell me how to get to the slides."
I found him at the edge of the skating rink, smiling and laughing with a bunch of extras, just as Kiri said. "Deku!"
He jumped out of his skin, sloshing a drink in hand that nearly spilled on his shirt; his reaction time had gotten even faster. I got in his face.
"Kacchan, sheesh! Why so scary?"
"Yeah, jeez, Bakugo! I can't believe you still act like you're the main character after all these years," Sato whines.
"People keep telling me that, and it's really starting to piss me off. So, shut up, Sugar Booger!" I grind through my teeth.
"Yeah, well, have you considered trying not to be such a prick?" Sero offered. "Might be a good place to start."
"No one was even talking to you, Tapeworm Brains!" I return my attention to Deku. "Come on, nerd! Race me!" I point over our heads to the amusement park-sized obstacle course water slides made of ice.
He cocks his head to the side and vapidly blinks at me. "Huh?"
I slow down my diction—"You. Me. Go sliding down those. Race"—annoyed that my spontaneity isn't received with enthusiasm like I'm used to.
"You don't have to sound so condescending, Kacchan," he groans, annoyed.
"Whatever, loser! The first one through to the bottom is the undeniable winner."
"But I'm watching Shoto's drink while he—"
"Argh, I don't have time for this!" With Explosion's help, I bolster Deku by his waist (sue me) to the top of the ten-story slopes and find Shoto and Yoarashi standing at the summit. They look between us and then at each other, their thoughts clear as day. Not my problem. I hand the Zuko wannabe his drink.
"Enjoy your drink. We're next," I poke my thumb at Deku, pushing him to the front of the long line. I shove the trembling civilians huddling together, anxiously awaiting their turn, to the side when Shoto approaches us.
"Katsuki," he glares at me with daggers made of fire and ice, undoubtedly waiting for his moment to strike. "Stop." But I'm not here for him. I shirk him off, adrenaline pumping through my veins—my mother's playful rage. I can taste the nitroglycerin I inherited from my father seeping through my pores.
"Kacchan, wait!" Izuku pleads.
"Shut up, nerd, and take your mark! I'll show you I haven't lost my edge!"
"Bakugo, this really isn't the right time—" Inasa starts, engaging with me like I'm feral. A gorgeous woman with a familiar face that I don't have time to place blinks at me unintelligently from behind his massive frame. I sincerely don't know who the fuck he thinks he's talking to because I am not Shoto, and we are not friends, so I ignore him to start the race.
"DIE!" An explosive sound surrounds me as I detonate my Quirk. I know it well; it sounds like power, metal, and fury. As I shoot ahead, not hesitating for a millisecond for anything or anyone to stop me, I believe I can fly.
As I descend the long chute, the ice floor beneath my feet melts into running water. The slick, trickling stream became lubricant for the steep slope, forcing me to see the entire converted freighter full of lights and frenetically moving dots blurring off to the side. No wonder the couple before us was scared shitless. I'm so high that it finally makes sense why Shoto and his extra combined their Quirks. Only Tenya Iida could survive this drop.
Though I just said to, there is no reason to die by waterslide. If I weren't sweating bullets, my balls would freeze blue. I hate the cold!
The ice abruptly crackles as the river refreezes beneath me halfway down the first loop. A flash of red and white fury surfs past my periphery.
"-You first!"
Shoto's words blow straight past me as I blast ahead, satisfied with how intense my explosive power is even in the cold. How dumb of him to think he had the advantage! I laugh so loud, it feels like a roar of thunder, and the way the thin, crisp air fills my lungs clears my head.
Wait—My heart leaps out of my chest—Where is Deku?—as I leave a smokescreen of exhaust and frosty dust in my wake, my folly guts me like a death drop.
Goosebumps prickle across my arms and neck— (where I sweat the most when I am scared).
I am alone. There is no runway of ice. There is nothing but the blackness of space above and below, barring the stars twinkling like snowflakes.
My body plummets four stories down to a watery, lightless hell.
.
Contrary to what Deku believes, and regardless of what Scarface thinks, I've hated Todoroki long before he gave Deku the time of day.
Much like Deku's secret Quirk, I did not anticipate our rivalry. Or constantly being behind him. I do not like to chase after people. I only want to chase after my goals.
"When I was watching that ice guy, I realized I couldn't beat him in a head-to-head fight," I exclaimed. "Damn it! Damn it, damn it!" I turned my back on Deku; I didn't want him to see me cry, but I was burning up inside. The irritation of seeing someone undoubtedly stronger and better than me opened up a bottomless, sinking pit in my soul. It would consume me if I didn't work harder, if I didn't train.
If I didn't change.
Deku is my fiercest rival, fueled by our unyielding competitive drive...and love—by now, you should know this. But in the beginning, I quickly learned that Shoto was my biggest threat—as dense as he was in social situations, he was the smartest of us all in combat. Whenever I thought I was quick on the uptake or smart enough to develop a new explosive fighting technique, Shoto's brooding bitch-ass would be right beside me, showing himself as sharper, his fire hotter.
Since our first day at UA, he came out the gate with his icy foot on my neck, trying to humble me with his keen battle sense, fierce agility, and intuitive snap-judgment calls. And he was not just battle-smart; his raw, authentic intensity put my tough-guy act to humiliating shame and called me weak without Shoto ever uttering a word in my direction. From the first look into those astute, stonewalled pupils, I knew—he'd fought many demons and dragons before arriving at UA. He could be dense, but as an aspiring pro hero, he wasn't a lost cause.
Not like Deku was at first.
Even worse, he was my biggest threat with Deku. Finding them always holed up in a corner, under the bleachers, in an empty hallway or stadium tunnel felt like being outside the club I was supposed to be hosting.
There's nothing more humiliating to a man's pride than being bested by another man, and I wasn't used to being compared to anyone lower than me. Yet, the left eye sore really thought he was my equal, and the nagging devilish voice that hated me repeatedly haunted me with fear that my heat wouldn't be able to thaw his frosty grip on Deku's heart.
I could see it spreading and igniting a fire inside him...inside them both...that would be problematic for me to lose to.
Because, I want to win.
"Midoriya." Todoroki's crackly tenor cut through the thick tension in Class 1-A's locker room. I sat at a table, listening to music to get myself in the right headspace to kick everyone's ass.
"Hey, Todoroki. What's up?" Deku replied, concerned. We were mere moments away from the debut of my greatness. So, what the fuck was happening...?
As Icy Hot spoke to Deku, jealousy roared in my chest. Listening to those two act like there was no one else in the room or world really pissed me the fuck off. My strength alone would win the sports festival. Who the fuck did they think they were? I was the main character— not the nepo baby extraordinaire or that nerd, damn it!
So why weren't either of them challenging me?
"And, yeah, of course, you're better than me. In fact, you may have the most potential out of anyone in the hero course." Deku's affirmation of Todoroki inflamed my ego. I bristled but bit my tongue as my mind bled with envy. (Not more than me! Why not me? Not...me?) But I couldn't say that.
And I don't know why...
"That's why you got in so easily," Deku flattered Todoroki, making my head spin.
Why didn't Deku ever confront me this way?
"But I'll be aiming for the top, too," Deku declared.
"Fine," Icy Hot replied.
"Tch," I scowled at them.
It's hard to explain what burning from the inside feels like; maybe only fire Quirk users can understand.
"Yeah, whatever. No way am I letting Todoroki beat me!" I thrash across the locker room. I waited for a reaction, but nothing came. It was like I didn't even exist in their silly feud. But I knew I was the only one who mattered here, so I turned to Deku to clarify that before the festival even began.
But his eyes were steadily watching Todoroki.
The look on Deku's face when he stood up to Todoroki never made it to me. I don't even know how to describe it, I'd never seen it before...
I'm fuming. It must be because Shoto is new to Deku, and Deku is used to me. Still, I don't like that. Aggression is how I show my love to Deku. If he can no longer bother to respond to it, what then?
"Bastard! Your declaration of war was to the wrong person!"
.
Fighting, especially at full power, feels like flying. It's the best high I've ever experienced. It fills a deep, gaping cavity inside me burned through by the consequences of my Quirk and actions. All my raw emotions were unleashed as unfettered power.
Like dynamite. Isn't that just badass?
Still, I can't be bothered to remember every fight I've ever been in—too many losers to count and care about, but there is one that is seared into my memory for life.
A barrage of ice fires in my direction. The chiming, scraping slide of frozen water clangs against eardrums. I am seconds away from being buried in the core of an iceberg. The jagged blocks press me back so fast that I have no choice but to blow out of my way. But it is not enough. I am trapped and terrified. I hate ice. I am nervous, scared that I am done for if I can't tunnel my way out of this ice prison in two seconds. So, I do. Booms of muffled explosions are released from my panicky palms, and in no time, I'm free. That first fresh breath of cold air pisses me clean the fuck off.
Now,I'm angry.
"You've got some pretty powerful attacks. But you're a bad aim," I roared, soaring at my opponent. He tries to grab my arm with his right side, but I'm too quick; I maneuver out of his reach, blasting his arm away. "Try harder!"
Yanking a tuft of his hair and slamming him onto his back, it feels good releasing all this rage. "Are you underestimating me? Idiot!" I lunge for his left side, a Stun Grenade waiting to be let off. Are you watching me, Deku? I will not be defeated.
"Use your fire on me, you icy bitch!"
Shoto grabs my forearm and tosses me like a ragdoll across the arena.
Huh? Does he think I'm not worthy of his power? That I don't compare to Deku? That my power isn't as great as his, or even greater still? Is he underestimating me?
I recover with ease, but alarm bells sound off in my head. "You bastard! I'll tell you what'll happen if you make a fool outta me." I'm trembling, shouting out my desperate feelings. "I'LL KILL YOU!" I will be the indisputable champion, I tell myself. I tell Shoto.
I tell the entire stadium and world, watching me cry.
"Deku isn't the only person who deserves your fire! Fight me with the same power! Why are you even here if you don't wanna win this?" I plead because I've been watching the fire in his eyes die out. I charge at him, clawing through the air with my clenched fists, clobbering across the arena floor in my thick boots. I can feel the ice shaking and shattering beneath my soles. I will reach him.
I will destroy him!
"I am your only real competition here. When we're done fighting, there will be no doubt that I'm the best student at the festival! There's no point in fighting me if you will not destroy me! Come at me with all you've got! As hard as you can! Just like you did with Deku!"
That intense, icy-hot gaze bares down on me, but he does not look focused on me or our first real fight. Is our match just a game to him? His fists limp at his side, but I refuse to give up now. I will force his hand if I must.
"C'mon, Todoroki! Don't give up! Do your best," Deku screams from somewhere in the stands. And now, I'm broiling mad. Shoto's head tilts in search of the one voice strong enough to break him out of his stupor. I'm sick—Shoto heard his voice among the cheering crowd. His left hand flinches and twitches at his side. Emotions flood his face. I take off running.
"That stupid nerd," I sneer under my breath. He's always meddling where he doesn't belong. Shoto's will has reignited thanks to that bullshit campy cheer. But that's exactly what I want. I spent all semester thinking about how I'd break him with my power.
As I waited for our match to begin...
"Midoriya. Was he always like that? So helpful?"
I want Shoto Todoroki to fight me with every ounce of blood, sweat, and tears he gave Deku.
No, I'm greedy as hell. I want even more.
My hands are shaking, and my body is overheating. Tears mixed with sweat, and I could feel my temperature rising like an explosive bomb. I pick up my pace and let off Explosive Speed, propelling through the air. Now's my chance—my only one.
But that's all I will need.
Shoto's now-roaring blaze sizzled and singed the hairs on my arms and neck. I growl through my grin. "Hell yeah, Todoroki!"
Yessss! I always get what I want!. This unadulterated fuel was what I felt from the stands when he was fighting Deku. We're finally on equal playing fields. Setting myself up for a special Howitzer Attack is the most logical attack in my strategy to win. Plus, it's the most fun and my first time using it in a real battle. What better time than live on national television?
And it's exhilarating.
Words cannot fully grasp the thrilling sensation that floods my entire being as that surge of power courses through my veins, and I spin and spiral through space. The air feels nonexistent as I slice through it. Focusing on my target, remaining precise and in control as I cycle forward, demands more sweat. And that's why I love my Quirk so fucking much.
"Give it all you got!" That stupid nerd was right, after all. "Don't you dare hold back!"
His will to fight is breaking. Though I'm barreling through the air fast enough to drill into the earth's crust, I can see it in those beady, mismatched eyes. Still, I don't want him to give up. I will show Shoto and prove to Deku that I am the best.
This was it. "Howitzer...Impact!"
I did it. I hit the target and nailed my most powerful attack yet! Shoto's fire didn't stand a chance.
That's motherfucking right! ARE YOU WATCHING DEKU? I'm him! I'm the one, not Shoto!
The smoke of my delusion clears.
" ...No!" Oxygen coughs out of my lungs.
Regret comes after the smoke of battle clears.
.
There are other properties that Fire and Explosion share, such as ash and debris. Chemistry and passion.
Love—
I think more about that sham of a win than I should a decade later. It was the most unfulfilling fight I've ever won. But it harbingered a hellish and hard-fought lesson: Shoto continues to rob me of my indisputable victory in more ways than one.
—and War.
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