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xxx.
limbo
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Deep beneath the Yokohama warehouse lay the League of Villains headquarters. Mikoto sensed both Kurogiri and the seal caster within the premises, and their presence confirmed her suspicions—the two of them stayed, but not because they had no means of escape.
"How did an entire network of underground tunnels go unnoticed during reconnaissance?"
"Because of the seal."
"And how did you not notice the seal until now?"
"It's more complex compared to the one in Tokyo," Mikoto said, begrudgingly. "Pinpointing its precise location required a bit of effort, even for me. I only sensed it once we got close enough to the source."
Endeavor arrived to meet her in the basement ten minutes after taking another sweep around the perimeter. Part of her wanted to proceed without him, but he would have had no way to follow her, and they were already short on time enough as it was.
With Tsukauchi leading the raid, they stormed the warehouse at eight o'clock. Mikoto destroyed the seal twenty-seven minutes later. Ten minutes after that, Edgeshot reported that the Tokyo team nearly finished their mission. It seemed like a success all around.
That was, perhaps, the first red flag.
No more drugs, no more production, no more distribution. The League must have had other objectives, but the Yakuza prided themselves in their business. Giving up all of those resources without any resistance implied that they still had supplies stashed elsewhere.
It also meant that the Shie Hassaikai had become more dangerous than the average gang. Money remained an important motivator, but the lack of it did not deter them from achieving their goals, in which the League and the young heiress seemed to play a part.
"Doesn't look like much of a hideout."
"This isn't the hideout."
Endeavor frowned. "You said it's—"
"Beneath the warehouse," she finished for him. "We're approximately two hundred meters away from the entrance."
The shadows guided them through the tunnels, descending deeper and deeper into the depths of the domain. Although she had a sense of its overall layout, Mikoto couldn't teleport them to someplace she had never seen before, which left them especially vulnerable down there.
Fifty meters. Thirty meters. Ten meters. Mikoto tensed in anticipation. Despite the uncertainty of their situation, she was sure they should have arrived at their destination, but all that surrounded them when the shadows dispersed was a spurious nothingness.
"Light a flame," Mikoto said. "I need more shadows."
Endeavor aimed a flamethrower into the abyss. Rather than fade away, his flames appeared to bounce off an invisible wall. As Mikoto suspected, the darkness was some sort of façade, now made obvious by the embers casting actual shadows beneath their feet.
"That will do," she murmured.
It was reasonable to assume the seal caster had implemented a failsafe to counter her powers—a prison realm specifically designed for a Hero known to navigate spacial dimensions through shapes in the dark. Without Endeavor, she could have very well spent days trapped in that box.
Upon emerging on the other side of it, they found themselves standing in an inconspicuous hallway. Mikoto prepared herself for—something. The League and the Shie Hassaikai would not have gone through such extreme lengths to keep them out just to let them wander so freely.
"Welcome, Heroes."
The voice came from nowhere and everywhere all at once. Endeavor tensed, fists already swathed in flames, but between the sharp prickle indicating the presence of their new opponents and the vertigo suddenly overwhelming her senses, Mikoto felt her mind split in half.
"What's the matter with you?" Endeavor asked, sparing her a glance.
Mikoto grit her teeth. "Focus on the enemy."
"Are you—"
"I would take her advice," the voice taunted. "This is hardly the time for idle conversation."
The hallway started to spin, first sideways, then upside down. It happened again and again and again until the nausea made it impossible for her to stay standing upright. As she collapsed onto a platform of shadows, the walls folded for the umpteenth time.
Endeavor stumbled, sliding off the floor-turned-ceiling, before managing to propel himself forward. Their enemy must have caused Mikoto's inebriated state, but it seemed they couldn't affect both Heroes to the same extent, at least not simultaneously.
"Can you sense where it's coming from?"
"I'll need a few seconds."
"How many?"
"As much as you can give me."
"Let's see what they can do then," Endeavor said, clicking his tongue. "Take cover, if you can."
As the Flame Hero promptly set their surroundings on fire, Mikoto allowed the shadows to tuck her into their embrace. The walls spun faster, as if to avoid the heat, but in the midst of all the frenzy, she picked up another presence in their vicinity—two of them, in fact.
"Above you," Mikoto called out. "Four meters right, three meters down!"
He appeared at the coordinates with impressive speed. The impact of his punches immediately interrupted the effects of their opponents' respective Quirks, and as soon as a black hole shaped above her head, Endeavor hurled the two Villains inside it.
"How did you locate us so quickly?" the same voice screeched. "We should've been untouchable! The Shie Hassaikai have numbers far beyond—"
With that, the black hole closed. Mikoto dusted off her uniform. They were outnumbered, yes, but not outmatched. With her mind freed from outside interference, she confirmed that while the warper remained nearby, the seal caster had delved further into unknown territory.
Strategically, of course, it made sense. If Kurogiri was caught, not even Kamino could keep him detained. The seal caster couldn't afford to take that risk. Despite her curiosity regarding their identity, Mikoto reminded herself that the Heroes' priority had not changed.
"We need to hurry."
"The others are still here?"
"Not all of them," she said, turning on her heel. "I've sent photos of the two Villains to Tsukauchi for processing, but the child is with the warper. If they have any uses left for her Quirk, they need to ensure her safety, and he has the best chance of getting past us unscathed."
"Have you considered that they might not have a use for her anymore?" Endeavor pressed.
Mikoto pursed her lips. "In that case, it would be easier to escape with the evidence."
"What if they decide to dispose of it instead?"
Just one morbid question after the other, Mikoto lamented, though she couldn't blame him for expecting the worst. Her response was not any kinder, after all.
"You know as well as I do," she said, not-so-subtly picking up her pace. "It would mean we're already too late."
The Pussycats encouraged both classes to spend the rest of the afternoon training together. Most students refused to stray from their classmates, but I spotted Shinsō and Kendō dodging each other's punches, while Kirishima and TetsuTetsu literally butted heads.
Aizawa-sensei and Kan-oji suggested I try transmuting larger objects, so I picked up a pebble twice the size of the first. Despite my previous progress, I felt like passing out again after a handful of half-hearted attempts, which tore a hole into my half-stitched self-esteem.
I had hoped to relieve some of my stress by sparring with Bakugou, but I couldn't find him anywhere. Unfortunately, the only other people who could keep up with Kamihara-sensei's training were probably Shinsō and Ojiro, and the two of them were already preoccupied.
Ojiro, in particular, seemed rather engaged in conversation with our homeroom teacher. I couldn't help but empathize, especially since I was in the same position just a couple of hours ago, though before I could wonder what they were talking about, a hand fell onto my head.
"Just had to check whether you were still breathing," Kan-oji said, ruffling my hair.
I rolled my eyes, blowing the unkempt fringe out of my eyes. "Does anyone in your class specialize in close combat?"
"Quick to skip the small talk today," he said, brow raised. "Looking for a partner in crime?"
"I'd say I already have one, but I don't know where he went."
"You could ask Kaibara."
"Really?"
"What's with the surprise?"
"I don't know enough about him to have guessed that."
"Don't count him out just yet," Kan-oji said, chuckling. "I bet he'll surprise you even more once you get started."
The he in question sat a few feet away, watching Honenuki wrestle one of their friends. I considered waiting until they left, if only because I didn't recognize the other person, but I needed the distraction now. As soon as I approached him, Kaibara startled.
"I didn't mean to scare you," I echoed from earlier, earning one of his rare smiles. "Just wanted to ask if you'd like to spar. I've been looking for a partner and heard from Kan-sensei you'd be a good one."
"You want to spar with me?" Kaibara asked, pointing at himself.
I met his uncertainty with a nod. "Only if you don't mind."
"I'm guessing your classmates are busy."
"Does that make you more or less inclined to agree?"
"Not really," he said, shrugging. "I wouldn't have minded either way."
"And yet she didn't think to ask me!" Honenuki exclaimed, turning around.
I let out a chuckle under my breath, shaking my head. "You seemed even busier!"
"We could use an audience," Kaibara said, nodding at their other friend. "What about you, Kamakiri?"
I should have probably shown more offense at the glare he blatantly shot in my direction. It was no secret that quite a few students in their class still held some contempt for ours, but if I could have a civil conversation with Monoma, I could handle this guy just fine.
"Are you serious?" Kamakiri asked, wildly gesturing at my general vicinity.
Kaibara raised a brow. "Not all of us have a grudge against her class."
"Who said I have a grudge?"
"Depends on who you ask," Honenuki said. "You're always complaining about that Bakugou guy."
"You mean the blond with an attitude problem?" Kamakiri huffed.
Honenuki jerked his head towards me, making a cutting motion over his neck. "Bro!"
"I can't control your opinions," I said, forcing a cordial tone. "As long as they don't interfere with our training, though, I can set them aside."
I felt Kan-oji staring intently at the back of my head. The boys must have noticed, too, because even Kamakiri eased up, shoulders slouching in resignation. In hindsight, it was all a little too convenient. Did the old man plan this all along? Or did he conspire with Aizawa-sensei to make us play nice?
"How long has this thing of yours been going on behind my back?" Kamakiri asked, arms crossed.
I smiled innocently, barely suppressing a snort. "The plans to spar or the extramarital affair?"
"... both."
"Five minutes, give or take."
"We go back way further than that," Honenuki snickered. "I'd say best friends since breakfast!"
"My bet's still on Kaibara," Kamakiri muttered.
I feigned a frown to match the one on his face. "I'm feeling outnumbered here."
"I'll sit in your corner," Honenuki said. "Recommended kids should stick together, right?"
"You're one of the recommended students?" Kaibara asked.
I nodded, bemused. "I thought it would've come up at some point."
"It's not like people don't talk," Kamakiri said, rolling his eyes. "Kaibara just never pays attention to the noise."
"Not the worst way to go about life, if you ask me," Kan-oji said, chuckling as the four of us approached.
In contrast to his slight smiles, Kaibara broke into a boyish grin. "How do you think we should do this?"
"Best out of five?" I suggested. "No Quirks for the first two rounds."
As soon as he accepted the conditions, I no longer bothered to hide my excitement. I had done this type of training so many times before that I felt more assured about it than I had been over anything else that day.
Add to that the fact that his Quirk must have made all of his punches more potent, forcing opponents to focus on strength, speed, and strategy simultaneously. Bakugou was my favorite sparring partner for the same reasons.
"You lose the round if your opponent pins you down for more than three seconds," Kan-oji declared. "Begin!"
Kaibara threw the first punch. I ducked, then delivered a punch of my own. As soon as he dodged, I switched into a roundhouse kick with my other foot, but he managed to block it. My next kick made contact with his shoulder, sending him stumbling a few feet backward.
Before my fist could try reconnecting with his cheek, Kaibara caught his footing and shoved me into a tree. I winced at the bark scraping against my skin, but dropped into a crouch just in time to avoid his next punch, swinging a leg at his feet to sweep him off balance once more.
He fell onto his back, letting out an oof that made Honenuki and Kamakiri audibly cringe. Kaibara scrambled to stand up, but I tackled him to the ground, pinning his body down with the entirety of my weight. Not a second later, I felt an elbow stab into my stomach.
Kaibara proceeded to bombard me with a rapid succession of kicks and punches. If I couldn't dodge, I blocked, and if I couldn't block, I took the hit. A solid blow to the chest knocked the wind out of me, but he made the mistake of holding me down without restraining my legs.
"Three—"
I jabbed my knee into his crotch. Honenuki and Kamakiri screamed on his behalf, but Kaibara barely loosened his hold on my wrists. Barely, of course, was all I needed. I pushed him hard, suddenly reversing our positions, and locked him in a tighter chokehold.
"Stay down," I muttered into his ear. "Two, one."
Kan-oji announced me as the winner. I released my grip and rolled onto my back, desperately catching my breath. I must have underestimated my opponent, or maybe overestimated myself, but most of all, I blamed my lack of sleep for exhausting me so much after one match.
"Where did you learn to do all of that?" Kaibara asked, stretching his legs out beside me.
I felt a bit better after hearing him wheeze. "I've had some pretty good teachers."
"That seems like an understatement."
"What about you?"
"My Quirk isn't that impressive on its own, so it was either learn how to fight or randomly poke holes into things," he said. "How are you feeling about the next few matches?"
"I feel like shit in general, to be honest," I confessed.
Kaibara smirked. "Best out of three?"
"Please and thank you."
"You're free to use your Quirks in the next round," Kan-oji said, chuckling. "We'll discuss your performance when you can speak whole sentences again."
I sent him an OK sign without troubling myself to sit up, but once I did, I was surprised to see that a small crowd had gathered to watch us. To my amusement, it included nearly every person I considered asking to spar today—Ochako, Shinsō, Kendō, and even Ojiro.
"When did the rest of you get here?" I asked, brow raised.
Honenuki grinned. "Right after Kaibara pinned you."
"For, like, a second."
"Long enough for it to count."
"What happened to 'recommended kids stick together'?"
"That was before the cavalry arrived," Honenuki slung an arm around his classmates. "No hard feelings, Higuchi!"
"Don't get me involved," Kendō said, letting out a laugh.
Shinsō smirked from her other side. "I wouldn't mind a friendly bet."
"Stop fraternizing with the enemy," Ochako said, sticking her tongue out. "We're rooting for you, Rei!"
By the time Kaibara and I eased into positions again, I felt the same restless itch from earlier seeping into my limbs. For a second, I considered using my transmutations in the fight, but the thought of my recent failures made me decide against it.
Unlike the push and pull dynamic of the first round, it looked like I had to prepare myself for more of a push and push back. Kaibara's Quirk allowed him to rotate any part of his body. If I wanted to land hits without losing a finger, I needed to keep my distance.
"Begin!"
Mirroring our previous match, Kaibara made the first move. I struck back with a whip of water, but since he dodged, I hit the tree behind him instead. It left behind a deep laceration on the bark, matching the massive hole he punctured where I stood only seconds earlier.
"Is that allowed?" Kaibara asked, turning around to gape at the gash.
I motioned at the sizable cavity in the ground. "Are you joking?"
"I can't help it!"
"Neither can I!"
"Try not to maim each other!" Kan-oji barked. "And talk less while you're at it!"
Kaibara recovered faster than expected, but I blocked his punch with a barrier of ice and immediately retaliated with my own, fist coated in frost. As soon as he lurched backward, I expanded the ice coating my knuckles and managed to nick his cheek.
I took hold of his blood and forced him into a frozen cage, but Kaibara rotated his arms, rapidly shattering the ice restraining him. The two of us continued to trade blows without stopping, even to catch our breaths, and I could feel my body start to slow down.
As much as I hated to admit it, I wouldn't last a third match. I couldn't. If I wanted to win, I had to do it now. Kaibara was stronger than me, maybe even faster if I counted the mechanics of his Quirk, but I had more experience. No one was faster than Kamihara-sensei, after all.
The next time Kaibara threw a punch, I stood my ground and forced it to a halt mere inches away from my face. Eyes narrowed, I focused on all the blood and water beneath his skin, trying to stop it from spinning entirely. Nothing happened, so I tried again, and again, and again.
And again.
Kaibara and I watched his gyrating arm come to a complete standstill. His surprise—and mine, in all honesty—distracted both of us for a couple of seconds, but I snapped out of it before he did, hurtling him into another tree with a heavy stream of water.
As soon as he hit the trunk, I caged him in more frost. Although I maintained my hold on his arm, I couldn't stop him from using his Quirk on all of his other limbs, which quickly cracked the ice. Ignoring the trickle of blood dripping down my nose, I fixed the damage in real time. Two more seconds—
"Time," Kan-oji announced.
I let the ice evaporate and felt my legs give out beneath me, but I managed to stop the nosebleed with the last of my strength. Kaibara allowed a chuckle to slip out at the sight of my less than dignified disposition. If I still had any air in my lungs, I would've laughed at myself, too.
"That was the longest three seconds of my life," I muttered.
Kaibara grinned. "And you wanted to do that five times?"
"It was a bit ambitious, in hindsight."
"You both did great," Kan-oji said. "Maybe a little clumsy, but given the terrain, I don't mind looking the other way."
"Kaibara was the one with a total field disadvantage!" Kamakiri protested.
Kendō placed a hand on his shoulder, gently drawing him back. "He was also limited to close range combat."
"I mean, he would've had more use out of his Quirk if the soil hadn't made it impossible to move around," Honenuki said. "The moisture in the air allowed Higuchi to attack close, mid, and long range!"
"The terrain advantage had nothing to do with the way Higuchi stopped his arm from moving," Ojiro pointed out.
Ochako grinned, bouncing on her heels. "That was so awesome!"
"You were slower than usual," Shinsō said, looking over at me. "I'm assuming it's because you're exhausted after a long day of training, but the fatigue doesn't seem to have hit your opponent as hard."
"I could go for a third match," Kaibara supplied.
Dejectedly, I shook my head. "I can't even stand up."
"Most of the enemies you'll encounter in the future will be far easier to incapacitate," Kan-oji said. "That doesn't mean you shouldn't be prepared in case you ever run into those who can and will push you to your limits."
Shinsō, Ochako, and Ojiro suddenly found the ground interesting. Even Kendō looked apprehensive at the mention of more powerful opponents. I hated that I knew the reason why, but I pretended not to notice the difference.
"Kaibara, I want you to practice using more of your surroundings to compensate for your lack of ranged attacks," Kan-oji continued. "Since you'll be training in your Hero uniforms tomorrow, you can try out your new gloves."
"Equipment?" I guessed, turning to the boy beside me.
Kaibara nodded. "The tips are made out of titanium."
"How much can you cut through with those?"
"A lot," he said, lips curling upward. "But I don't know how that's supposed to help me make use of my surroundings."
"If you create a directional slash on the same side you want a tree to fall, you should be able to control where it lands. Maybe you could leave a few obstacles for your opponents," I paused. "Or, you know, crush them with a tree."
"You said that suspiciously fast."
"It's a simple strategy."
"For you."
"I'm good at improvising," I said, shrugging. "Since I can't last too long in a fight, I need to think of all the ways to end it as soon as possible."
"Which means you must know what I'm about to say next," Kan-oji said, arms crossed.
I grimaced. "No?"
"Reiko."
"If I tried to use those transmutations now, I would've lost both rounds."
"Why does that matter?" Kan-oji asked. "You earned the right to be here when you passed your exams. And here, the goal isn't to show off what you can already do well, but to work on improving what you can't."
I knew he was right. Even agreed, to an extent. Sure, I tried to improve, but I didn't think I deserved to be here as much as everyone else did. I had my reasons and they were selfish to a fault.
"I get it," was all I could say.
Because I did. I just needed some instant gratification, and I got that, too. If Kan-oji wanted me to put in more effort where it counted, I would tomorrow, but until then, I was too tired to care.
I found Bakugou sitting by the docks a few minutes before sunset. Despite wondering where he went earlier in the afternoon, I couldn't say I spotted him because I searched for that specific shade of blond. I just happened to come across it while passing by the lake.
"Where have you been all day?" I asked, plopping down next to him.
Bakugou kept his gaze on the water. "Beating the shit out of Deku."
"Are you going to make me ask?"
"I wouldn't know how to answer," he muttered. "His Quirk went fuckin' wild."
It was the first time I had ever heard Bakugou explicitly refer to Deku's Quirk as Deku's Quirk. I might have dismissed it as a slip of the tongue, but Bakugou never misspoke, though I refrained from pointing it out upon seeing his expression. In an instant, I knew something was wrong.
"What do you mean?" I asked, brows furrowed.
Bakugou scowled. "I told you I don't know."
"You were with Deku this afternoon."
"And Bird Boy."
"Training?"
"Beating the shit out of Deku."
"I'm not above beating the shit out of you if you say that again without context."
"Bird Boy and I were sparring in one of the caverns," Bakugou elaborated with a roll of his eyes. "It didn't take long for Dark Shadow to freak the fuck out. Deku and I tried to calm it down, but the ceiling collapsed," his voice quieted for a couple of seconds before sharply cutting through the silence. "And Deku walked out of there with a whole different Quirk."
That was probably the sort of thing most people needed to see in order to believe, but considering I had to reconstruct my entire worldview after discovering I possessed a different Quirk than what I initially thought I had growing up, I wasn't all that hard to convince.
"What does 'different' mean?"
"It looked like black whips or some shit."
"Did this happen before or after you got out of the cave?"
"Before," he said. "Turns out the invisible girl was with us the whole time. Had to do a damned light show just to get Dark Shadow under control. Deku tried to clear a path with those tendril things, but he went fuckin' berserk, too. Tails basically had to battle royale him until Deku went down."
"Ojiro was there?"
"Eh?"
I resisted the urge to sigh. "Tails."
"Oh," Bakugou said, then shook his head. "Not at first. Must've heard the explosions and came to check it out."
I thought back to the conversation I witnessed before my spar against Kaibara. It could have been a coincidence, but I knew better than to blindly believe in those. Aizawa-sensei must have known what happened, if not in person, then from Ojiro.
"I saw Aizawa-sensei talking to Ojiro about something serious."
"Probably telling him to keep his mouth shut."
"Is this classified information?"
"Not to you."
"Aizawa-sensei doesn't know we're aware of Deku's," I paused. "Predicament."
"All Might does," Bakugou pointed out. "Deku told him we know."
"Does that have anything to do with why you were beating the shit out of him all afternoon?" I asked, brow raised.
"As of now, it only comes out when he's scared shitless."
"We've been in plenty of scary situations before."
"Yeah, well, it didn't happen again."
"I'm not surprised."
"Why not?"
"It's not like Deku's afraid of you."
Bakugou whipped his head toward me, eyes narrowed. "What the fuck do you know about that?"
"Nothing," I said, taken aback by his sudden animosity. "I just meant that Deku isn't one to back down, and you wouldn't actually do or say anything to push him over the—"
The blond stood up and turned around, heading back to the shoreline without so much as another glance at me. I stared at the empty space he left behind, startled, if not stupefied, before scurrying after him.
"Sorr—"
"Don't fucking say that word if you're not even sure why you're apologizing."
I bristled, halting in place. Bakugou might have noticed the lack of footsteps following him and slowed his pace, albeit slightly, but I couldn't bring myself to mind the minutiae. I felt like he slapped me in the face, and it took all I had to keep my breathing steady.
He hadn't spoken to me with such venom in his voice since our first week of school. Considering I cornered him into that conversation by trapping him in a block of ice, I can admit that I deserved his reaction at the time, but this came out of nowhere.
"I'm apologizing because I upset you," I murmured.
Bakugou sneered. "You don't know shit about me."
"Your favorite color is red."
"What are you, five?"
"I don't want to fight," I said tiredly, perhaps a little pathetically. "Not right now. Not with you."
I expected him to drop another snarky comment or ignore me completely. His default response was always one or the other whenever something caught him off guard. I knew that. Been on the other end of it so many times. This time, Bakugou didn't do either.
"If you want to be a Hero so bad," he mumbled. "Take a swan dive off the rooftop and pray you wake up with a Quirk in your next life."
The words once stumbled out of his mouth so easily. Less than a year ago, he might have even said them with a smile. Repeating that same sentence now felt like spitting poison, and the thought made his stomach sink, as if he had swallowed the damned thing, too.
Back then, he didn't think anything of it. Deku wouldn't have jumped because Deku was a coward. In hindsight, Katsuki couldn't have known that for sure, and the past few months challenged his original opinion even further. Deku wasn't a coward. Not really. Not at all.
Katsuki had every intention of keeping him around. Even when Deku's fourth birthday passed without any signs of a Quirk, Katsuki had no real hard feelings toward him. It wasn't until Deku held out his hand and declared he still wanted to become a Hero that Katsuki snapped.
Four years felt like a lifetime at fifteen, but it was a lifetime at four. Katsuki spent the whole of it striving to become a Hero worthy of standing alongside All Might. For all his future planning, though, Katsuki never considered Deku leaving him behind. Deku was a nobody.
Or, at least, he was supposed to be.
The worst part was that Deku had offered his hand first, as if he thought Katsuki needed the help in the first place. Katsuki had barely even tripped. Did he look that pathetic? No, Deku wasn't a coward, but he was Quirkless and kind, and even he thought Katsuki needed him more.
Maybe that was why Katsuki resented him for as long as he did. He never minded him as a kid because that was all they were. Kids. Friends, even. Katsuki had always believed himself to be great, if not the greatest, and Deku made him think he believed in him all the same.
Everything about that irritated Katsuki to no end. In a hapless world that marked him entirely expendable, Deku possessed an unparalleled capacity for wonderment. Was it because he had nothing that he saw something in everything? Katsuki couldn't fathom it.
Doting parents, devoted peers, a devastatingly powerful Quirk. Katsuki had so much more going on for him. Why didn't he have that same depthless curiosity? The world was supposed to be his oyster or some shit, but he still hadn't found the fucking pearl.
It started in that stream and trickled down to the sludge Villain, when Katsuki insisted Deku did nothing to help, even when he watched the latter run forward instead of back. The stuff that never mattered suddenly felt important. Needless to say, Katsuki had a lot to reevaluate.
There was no way to reconcile what he thought he knew and what he believed in now without putting himself out there. It was easy to ignore Deku until he demanded to be seen, and Katsuki couldn't keep hiding when everyone around him saw right through his mask.
First Kirishima, then Pichu, and then a third of their damn class. Eating lunch at the same table, tutoring them, hanging out at their houses, scrolling through group chats. Between the bouts of blame, Katsuki felt almost content. What would they do when they found out?
"Who said that?"
If he'd been just a little more lost in thought, Katsuki might've flinched. Guppy always had a way of catching him off guard. Of all the surprises in his life, she was one of the most unexpected, but he would never admit it out loud. Guppy probably already knew.
The thing about Katsuki was that he used to believe words held no power on their own. He said those words to Deku because he didn't think about the weight of them. If anything, he thought that they only meant something because he was the one to say them.
"The point of this whole thing is to be better than we were yesterday."
He remembered when Guppy had said that to him. By the end of her spectacularly aggravating spiel, Katsuki hated her guts. Looking back, he must've realized how much of an impact a single sentence could have on a person. It lingered in his memory even now.
"I said it," he mumbled. "Last year. To Deku."
Of course, the who still mattered. Guppy was only a stranger to him at the time. In comparison, Deku had known Katsuki their entire lives. How did he feel hearing something so merciless from the one person he—in a sick, convoluted sort of way—considered a friend?
"What made you remember it today?"
"I haven't forgotten," Katsuki muttered. "Thought Deku might have, though. Maybe that's why it threw me off when he said the same thing you did. No matter how many times I tried to blow him up, he kept telling me the black whips wouldn't manifest," he clenched his fists. "Because he was so sure I would never fucking hurt him."
The silence on Guppy's part didn't mean much. He sensed the cogs in her brain start to spin, and the list of questions she could have asked him probably bordered on uncomfortable, if not excruciating. As much as Katsuki wanted to walk away, they both knew he wouldn't.
"Does Deku remember?"
He really should have when he had the chance, though.
"How the hell would I know?" Katsuki retorted. "Not like it even matters. I can't take it back, and Deku is always so—"
He bit his tongue hard enough to taste iron, but Katsuki knew that she understood what he meant to say. Despite all the mistakes he made over the years, the root of his regret still greeted him with a smile, and the sight of it always felt like an invitation into purgatory.
"'Don't say that word if you're not even sure why you're apologizing,'" she recited in realization.
Katsuki ducked his head. "What about it?"
"Did you ever apologize?"
"No."
"Will you?"
"Be fucking real, Guppy," he snapped. "You wouldn't forgive someone who told you to kill yourself. Deku moved the fuck on, and I'm stuck here with you still trying to catch up!"
In the end, Katsuki was the real coward. Guppy had no right to decide if his suffering was enough punishment, or if it was warranted at all, but he deserved the consequences that came with perpetuating such cruelty, even if it meant alienating one of the only people who might've understood him better than he did himself. It was almost laughable.
"I don't know what to tell you," Guppy confessed.
He scoffed. "Think I'm a piece of shit?"
"You might've been once."
"And now?"
"Leaning more towards a little shit," she said. "Kind of full of it, too, but that doesn't mean you're inherently shitty."
Katsuki really did laugh at that. It was a laugh according to over a dozen definitions, at least. His chest felt heavy when it slipped out, hollow and devoid of humor, and he couldn't lift his gaze off the ground.
"Apologizing isn't an absolution," Guppy murmured, softer now. "It's important to acknowledge you've done a terrible thing, but saying sorry doesn't entitle you to forgiveness," Katsuki grimaced, but she shook her head. "I'm not saying there's no point in repenting. People have different priorities, and though I can't speak for him, I can't deny that I think you're one for Deku. Even now, he wants you in his life. That's important, too, because you and I both know he doesn't need you in it."
Words. Or worse, truths. Guppy had always been good at them. They spilled out of her mouth like bubbles, but spewed out of his like bricks falling to the floor. He wanted to avoid talking to her about this for that reason. For a lot of reasons.
"You might as well have called me a piece of shit," Katsuki muttered.
"Would you say those words to him now?"
"Are you fucking shitting me?"
"The other ones."
Her dry delivery made his eyes roll back again, but his twitching fingers betrayed his anxiousness. "No."
"Because the Bakugou standing in front of me isn't the same one from last year, or last month, or even yesterday," she said, matter-of-factly. "Maybe the person he used to be at one point was a piece of shit, but the boy from back then didn't know half of the things you know now."
"What makes you think I actually know any better?" Katsuki shot back.
Guppy didn't even blink. "What makes you think you don't?"
"I could fuck up again at any second."
"You could."
"Shut the hell up," he groaned in frustration. "Why do you have so much faith in me?"
He needed to know. Or just wanted to hear it. Even wished he would. Katsuki wasn't sure about the difference anymore, but when their eyes met, Guppy looked at him without any reservations—she really, truly meant whatever was about to come out of her mouth.
"You're my best friend," Guppy said. "I want you to hear all of this from someone who cares about you. It doesn't make it any more or less true, but at the very least, you know that I do."
Katsuki said nothing for a while, but neither of them seemed to mind. The events of the day had inadvertently set off a ticking time-bomb, and if he walked away now, all the broken parts of it would've been left behind. Leave it to Guppy to try picking up the pieces.
"Where the hell am I supposed to go from here?" Katsuki mumbled.
Guppy tried to hide her smile. "I thought you were trying to catch up."
"To Deku?"
"That's up to you."
"The one time I actually want you to tell me what to do and you decide to pull a bunch of cryptic shit out of your ass?"
"Sounds pretty straightforward to me," she said, shrugging. "If you can't take it back, then pay it forward. Isn't that what you've been trying to do all this time?"
As if to make a point of her own, she moved to stand beside him. Katsuki got the message. By no means had they resolved the underlying issue, assuming it had even surfaced in its entirety, but he knew that they were okay, and that was enough for now.
"I found a stash of spicy ramen in one of the kitchen pantries," Guppy said, testing the silence.
He pretended to hesitate. "How many?"
"Enough for the usual."
"Are you hungry?"
"I could eat."
"Let's go," Katsuki said. "We're adding in something green or you're waking up tomorrow with a salad stuffed into your damn pillow."
It was no secret he and Guppy liked spicy food. Whenever they studied at her house, Pichu never stopped nagging them about why they always split three packs of ramen. The answer wasn't anything worth throwing a tantrum over—one wasn't enough for a single serving, and two caused too much bloating.
Looking back, though, that was something he and Guppy called their own. A tradition of sorts. Despite all the changes in his life, it would always stay the same, even if it was as simple as sharing a precise amount of instant noodles no one else could stomach. Maybe the important stuff was important because of that.
"I eat vegetables," she said.
Katsuki raised a brow. "Name one."
"Weird," Guppy teased instead, because she was goddamn infuriating, and they both knew it was a choice. "It almost sounds like you care about me, too."
He could tell that she expected him to deny it, if only to keep the joke running. Katsuki couldn't blame her for that. It was probably what he would've done under normal circumstances, but not today. As her eyes burned brightly beneath the slow setting sun, crimson reflecting crimson, he just let out a snort.
"Somethin' like that."
Bakugou returned to his cabin as soon as we finished dinner. Despite his regular routine putting him to bed by eight, I knew his reasons for retiring had more to do with Deku than his sleeping schedule. I considered taking after him, especially since I actually needed the rest, but Kirishima and Ochako wanted s'mores for dessert. I couldn't refuse those puppy eyes even if I tried.
The two of them were the first to notice the unusual behavior between me and the brooding blond. Less loud bickering, more quiet comfort. Without disclosing any details, I explained that we had just sorted out a brief misunderstanding, but Deku knowingly shot up from his seat. As the others started setting up for the bonfire, he snuck into the seat beside mine.
"Kacchan told you what happened," Deku whispered.
I offered him a small smile. "Is that okay with you?"
"To be honest, I was hoping he would."
"Is that meant to imply you would've told me if he didn't?"
"Not because I want to give you any unnecessary stress or anything," he said, hurriedly. "It's just that you're the only other person I've told about—well, you know."
"I saw Ojiro talking to Aizawa-sensei earlier, but I don't know if they were talking about that."
"All Might came up with an explanation in case anyone else asks."
"And have they?"
"What?"
"Asked."
"You could say that."
I gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "It's not as easy when people make up their own answers instead of asking questions."
"I don't think All Might thought that far ahead," Deku admitted. "I'm supposed to say it's a tangible manifestation of my Quirk's energy, but that's not nearly enough context for anyone genuinely concerned, and I won't be able to find out much more until we get back from training camp," he sighed. "I'm scared that I'll end up hurting someone before I learn how to keep it under control."
It made sense for him and All Might to discuss such a serious matter in person, if only to ensure the safety of their secret. However unlikely, intercepted texts and calls were a very real threat. Kaminari hacked the Pussycats just yesterday with barely any equipment.
Even with the logistics in mind, hearing Deku so disheartened after my talk with Bakugou made my heart ache. I couldn't imagine carrying the loads they had to bear—what one did and what the other could do weighed differently, but it lay heavy on their shoulders all the same.
"You won't."
"Not even you can know that for sure, Rei."
"Maybe not, but I know you, and I know you won't let anything happen to us. I just need you to know it goes both ways."
"That's what I'm most afraid of," Deku blurted out, then promptly slapped a hand over his mouth.
I felt my breath catch in realization. "Would you have left me behind if I lost control of my Quirk back in the forest?"
"Of course not," he mumbled, slumping in his seat. "I get what you're trying to say. I guess I just have a hard time believing it sometimes. Aside from Kacchan, I've never really known anyone I considered close enough to call a friend."
My heart seized at his sincerity. I wished Bakugou could hear how highly Deku thought of him, but with the blond's current state of mind, there was a chance it would have only made him feel worse. As much as I wanted to help, they needed to settle this between themselves.
For now, this conversation was between me and Deku. I wanted him to hear these things from someone who cared just as much, especially since I understood him to an extent. There was a time when I felt alone, too, and found family in a place where I least expected it.
"I'm glad I get to call you one of mine," I said, earnestly.
Deku smiled a little. "That's what I was about to say."
"How are you doing now?"
"Fine, I think."
"I heard Bakugou had a little too much fun training with you."
"Is that why you were arguing?" Deku asked, eyes widening. "He didn't do any of that on purpose! I was the one who asked him to help!"
Before he got any more worked up, I placed a hand on his shoulder in hopes of calming him down. Deku stopped fidgeting for a second, but I couldn't completely reassure him without betraying Bakugou's trust, so I focused on maintaining my own smile.
"I never thought that for a second," I said.
Deku beamed back. "Thanks, Rei."
"For what?"
"Because of you, I don't have to worry about Kacchan as much as when we were kids."
"It's easier than expected," I said. "Worrying about him, I mean. I'd tell you that's not a burden you need to share, but I think you'd be the first to agree that it isn't a burden at all. I just hope you know I worry about you, too."
I squeezed his shoulder before pulling my hand away. Although I hadn't voiced it aloud, I felt just as indebted to him. Deku never gave up on me during and after our match at the Sports Festival. How much progress would I have made if not for him?
"What are you two whispering about?" Kaminari asked, carrying over a pile of wood.
Todoroki trailed behind him, a small flame flickering at his fingertips. "Must be excited about all of the sugar we're about to consume."
"I haven't had any sweets this entire week," I said. "Aside from the banana milk you gave me, which is on you."
"It's Tuesday," Todoroki pointed out, though the corners of his mouth curled upward to match mine.
"This wasn't my idea."
"You were pretty quick to agree to it."
I watched him light the fire, distinctly aware of a warmth in my chest before the heat even dispersed. "As if I could say no to Ochako and Kirishima."
"No fighting," Kaminari chided, hands perched on his hips. "In case you haven't heard, there's a line for that!"
I caught the joke before he could think to explain it. As far as evening arguments with emotionally charged blonds went, I was two for two so far. Kirishima and Serō indulged him with a laugh, and even Todoroki cracked a grin, but I could tell by the way Jirō gaped at me that she disapproved of the smile threatening to slip out.
"This must be what it feels like to get stabbed in the back," Jirō muttered.
I failed miserably at suppressing a laugh. "I wouldn't betray you."
"Unless I dye my hair, apparently."
"I should warn Aoyama."
"Dude."
"I'm kidding, Jirō."
"As I feared, the terrible jokes are spreading faster than Todoroki got that fire going."
"What were you and Bakugou-kun arguing about?" Ochako asked, nibbling on a melting marshmallow. "I don't remember seeing him at all today."
"He was training with me," Deku said, rubbing the back of his neck.
Ochako smiled back at him. "Who?"
"Uh, Kacchan?"
"Kacchan?" Ochako gasped. "Bakugou-kun was training with you?!"
"Don't forget about them," Shōji chimed in, gesturing to the two brooding boys beside him.
Tokoyami grimaced. "It didn't exactly go as expected."
"That's putting it lightly," Ojiro sighed. "If it wasn't for Hagakure, I'm not sure we would've come out of it unharmed."
"It was totally a team effort!" Hagakure said, waving her hands in dismissal.
Deku bobbed his head. "I wouldn't have been able to get my Quirk under control if it wasn't for all of you!"
"Don't try taking the blame for that," Shōji said, shaking his head. "It wasn't on you. Or you, Tokoyami."
"Nothing more than being at the wrong place at the wrong time," Ojiro agreed.
Hagakure patted his shoulder. "You were at the right place at the right time!"
"That's different."
"How?"
"I didn't really do much."
"You tried to help your friends," Hagakure protested. "Isn't that what Heroes are all about?"
I kept my gaze on the flames in front of me, feeling like a fly on the wall. Ojiro sounded so much like the voices in my head. I couldn't help but speculate if he had always thought that of himself, or if something recent triggered it.
From my peripheral, I spotted Kirishima around the corner, carrying mountains of milk chocolate in his arms. He wore a contemplative expression that must have mirrored my own, and I wondered next if he had ever felt the same way.
"That's a rhetorical question," Kaminari said, breaking the silence with a snort. "If it's any consolation, I want to spend the rest of our week here not just as aspiring Heroes, but like a bunch of teenagers, too. Make mistakes and learn from them. Move on after that. I don't think it's asking for too much."
I blinked at the blond, taken aback by his sudden display of brazenness. Kaminari experienced his share of trauma. I knew it because I lived through them, at times right beside him. It wasn't that he had never shown fear, but he pushed forward despite everything, and that was the very definition of bravery.
"You're right," Deku said, letting out a long breath.
Ochako nodded, grinning sheepishly. "It feels like forever since we've all had a chance to hang out."
"Good thing you and Kirishima suggested the bonfire then," Jirō said with a smile of her own. "I'm glad we're getting to experience it together, even if half of us are already in bed."
"That just means more chocolate for the people who are here," Kirishima said, snapping out of his stupor with a laugh.
I sat up straighter in my seat, not-so-subtly eyeing the sweets. "I'd like to think our friendship is more important than that."
"Try saying it without drooling next time," Todoroki said, knocking his knee against mine. "I thought you didn't even like marshmallows."
"Which is why I would very much enjoy having some chocolate right now."
"I've got you covered, Rei!"
"Thanks, Kiri."
"What?"
I clutched the bar of chocolate, shrugging nonchalantly. "What?"
"Is that the first time you've called me by a nickname?" Kirishima asked, breaking into a grin. "I don't mind, by the way. Don't tell Bakugou, but I definitely prefer yours!"
"The one person he calls by their real name isn't allowed to complain," Ochako sniffed.
Jirō raised a brow. "Hasn't he called you by your name, too?"
"Not to my face!"
"Half of us heard it, though, so it definitely counts."
"I still think Rei's got the best one," Hagakure said, giving out stacks of graham crackers. "Guppy is just so cute!"
"Quite original, too," Ojiro said, taking them from her with a chuckle.
Tokoyami politely refused, but tossed a piece of chocolate over to Dark Shadow. "The fact that he's able to come up with so many is a feat in itself."
"Man, I wish he was here," Kirishima sighed. "Too bad he sleeps so early."
"Would he have agreed to come?" Ochako asked, frowning.
Sero nodded vigorously. "He let me borrow a bunch of his manga before coming here!"
"What does that have to do with roasting marshmallows?"
"Nothing, really, I'm just saying he's not as prickly as some people might still believe."
"That kind of makes Bakugou sound like a roasted marshmallow," Hagakure said, giggling under her breath. "Tough on the outside, but gooey on the inside."
"Midoriya's the other way around," Tokoyami mused.
Ochako perked up. "He is, isn't he?"
"Is that, um, a bad thing?"
"On the contrary," Tokoyami said. "It means you're stronger than I remember to give you credit for sometimes. I saw proof of that firsthand today."
Deku responded with a shy smile, visibly relieved at the positive response to his question, and the sight of it instantly put one on mine. The mood lightened up even more once Kaminari proposed a round of chubby bunny.
Kirishima put up a particularly good fight, stuffing at least five or six marshmallows into his mouth, but Ochako won by a landslide with a whopping eight. As Kaminari crowned the winner, Hagakure giggled and poked her cheek.
"Now you really do look like a chipmunk," she cooed.
Ochako groaned, her voice thoroughly muffled. "I should've known this would happen!"
"I see it," Sero said, handing her a napkin. "Looks like Bakugou's better at nicknames than we thought."
"Are you sure about that, Sticky Shit?" Kaminari hollered.
Sero tossed his head back with a laugh. "Isn't it humbling, Piss Head?"
"We should do another one of these before camp ends," I said, suddenly. "The bonfire, I mean. Not the assigning of horrible nicknames."
"Thank you for clarifying," Tokoyami said, the smirk seeping through his tone.
Shōji smiled kindly at me. "We've established that yours aren't so bad."
"I feel like that deserves a democratic vote."
"You would've won by a landslide."
"Don't expect me to give any speeches," I said. "I have to admit, though, I'd really like to do this again with everyone."
"Establishing your dominance through a deranged kind of democracy?" Todoroki quipped.
I nudged him, lingering only slightly. "Not so loud."
"Seriously."
"Yes."
"Blonds included?"
"Especially them," I said. "Maybe even including the ones from the other class."
I expected at least one person to protest, but I was met with a chorus of cheers. Perhaps something about the way I said it resonated with everyone. I heard it in my voice just then, hopeful and a little happy. A few hours ago, I had my own doubts about whether I deserved to be here, and now all I could think about was how much I wanted to stay.
postscript
a shoe's about to drop :') hope ur holiday season has a wonderful start. thank u so much for reading!
p.s. i definitely did not steal the bubbles and bricks line from a kristen stewart interview (ilu kristen ur my bella swan 4ever)