Chapter Text
Hitoshi groaned, holding an ice pack to his jaw as he melted onto the floor. He didn’t even bother grabbing a chair, he just laid down on the floor of the locker room.
He did his best, but unfortunately the nature of Tokoyami’s quirk is that he gets to bring a teammate into the arena with him. And with everyone in his class knowing his quirk’s strengths and weaknesses, it was a wipe.
It was a little much to swing him around the arena by his ankle. The mild concussion was already enough.
He heard the door open and groaned, rolling over onto his back, to preserve at least a little bit of his dignity. Cracking one eye open, he immediately closes it again when he sees the faint outline of white and red.
He kept his eyes closed and ice pack firmly pressed to his face as he heard Shouto sit on the floor next to him. He felt the last of his dignity leave his soul as he felt pats to the head.
“I talked to Mic-sensei for a bit.” The last dredges of whatever dignity he didn’t know he had remaining left his body and soul and mind. “He wanted me to tell you that your dads are proud of you.”
That was probably supposed to make him feel better, but whatever bit of comfort he would’ve gotten was overshadowed to the absolute blows to his dignity. And he’s talked with Shouto for a couple weeks now: the piece of shit was doing this on purpose.
After a few minutes of tortuous head pats (they were actually pretty nice, but Hitoshi would die before he admitted it out loud), Shouto stood up, helping Hitoshi get to his feet.
“We’re never going to talk about this ever again.”
“I have to tell Mic-sensei that I told you-”
“We’re never going to talk about this ever again.”
Ochako grimaced, keeping her eyes open through the dust. Her entire body was sore and achy, she was terribly nauseous, and her quirk ran under her skin like spiders (which she didn’t even know she could feel). She was pushing herself closer and closer to the edge, her shirt singed as her dodges were getting slimmer and slimmer.
But the dust wasn’t just blinding her: it was also blinding Bakugou. He only blasted her when she got close, and it seemed like he wasn’t relying on his hearing. To be fair, she wasn’t either: her ears were too busy ringing.
After several grueling minutes, they stood across from each other at a stand still, staring at each other. Instead of the usual smug ass grin, Bakugou was staring at her with a focused look. He was taking her seriously.
She was glad that Yagi-sensei drilled her quirk usage so much, because she can feel how much weight she’d lifted into the air. The meteor storm waiting above the arena was a tonne, which was more than enough to topple Bakugou. He’d be forced to dodge, and the only way to be outside the scope of the blast was to be out of the ring.
“Thank you for keeping your eyes on me, Bakugou.”
After pressing her fingers together, she came to several realizations all at once. One: she had definitely overestimated how big her meteor storm needed to be. Two: in her planning, she forgot about her own exit strategy. Three: Bakugou was barreling towards her- Bakugou was barreling towards her-!
Ochako felt arms wrap around her torso as they were both flung out of the arena. Her back hit the ground as she heard the boom of the explosion in the center of the arena. Next to her, Bakugou was sprawled out on his back, staring up at the now clear sky.
Willing her body to move, Ochako pushed herself up so that she was sitting. The arena was gone: replaced with a crater of concrete and rubble. She did that.
Holy shit she did that.
Midnight-sensei walked over to the two of them, keeping her eyes on them, with some stretcher bots in tow. “I’ll get the two of you to the infirmary, and we can arrange for a tie breaker later-”
“I forfeit.”
Ochako turned to stare at Bakugou, who hasn’t moved a muscle from where he’s sprawled out. “I cannot move. Round Cheeks can have it.”
Her teacher held a hand out to her, and she took it, being held steady on her feet. Midnight-sensei lifted one of their joined hands in the air. “Uraraka Ochako wins!”
She stood strong for about a few seconds, before the nausea took over and she puked on the floor, promptly passing out. But she bet she looked really cool for a few seconds.
Momo was glad that she talked to the crazy support girl beforehand.
She was currently dodging and weaving, hiding behind the remains of shattered ice. Shouto was up to his usual trick of throwing giant glaciers, but the grenades shattered the ice, leaving just enough on the battlefield for Momo to hide behind and continue chucking grenades.
There was a pause in the ice, and she took the time to peek around the chunk she was hiding behind. Shouto was standing in the center of the arena, panting as ice was snaking up the side of his body. When they made eye contact, Shouto held up his hand, two fingers pointed straight up. Momo returned the gesture.
Their group had a hand sign for when they needed a break during a spar. Given the nature of their quirks, Momo and Shouto were the ones who used it the most.
She ducked behind the ice again, taking the time to create a whip. While she’s normally more comfortable with a bo staff, a whip gives her the opportunity to immobilize Shouto, which was going to be her ticket to win it.
She picked up that phrase from Big Sis Magne.
Momo peeked out, using her free hand to make the ready hand sign. Shouto had a small flame in his palm, and he was on one knee to melt the ice on him. Once he finished and they made eye contact, he held out his hand and matched the hand sign.
After a grace period of three seconds, Shouto threw out another glacier of ice. Momo pulled out a grenade and blasted it apart, running straight at Shouto instead of dodging. She noted that these columns of ice are much smaller than before: even after the thawing, he was still running out of ice.
She got close enough that she shattered an attempted glacier with the crack of the whip, scattering chunks of ice at Shouto’s feet. She flicked her wrist, wrapping the whip around one of his ankles and yanking.
When he was pulled off his feet and his back hit the ground, he grabbed a chunk of ice and threw it at her. She parried it with her arm, leaping forwards and dropping all of her weight onto Shouto, elbow digging directly into his stomach.
Without letting him get his bearings, she dropped the whip, basically manhandling Shouto into a Sankaka-Garami.
Momo grinned as Shouto admitted to Midnight that he was trapped, and she cracked the whip to grant the victory to her.
Tsuyu sat next to Satou in the bleachers, wincing a little at the ice pack he was pressing to his chest. “Are you okay, kero?”
“I’m alright, don’t worry.” Satou gave her a friendly smile. “I wanted to keep watching everyone else, so I asked Recovery Girl if I could wait until after the festival was over.”
Tsuyu frowned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to kick that hard.”
Satou chuckled. “It’s fine, really! My ribs were only bruised. It was a good match, I’m fine with losing.”
Seeing that she was still frowning, he reached out with his free hand and patted her on the back. “If you still feel bad, afterwards you can come to the bakery and we can have cookies.”
She let herself smile a little. “I’d like that, kero.”