Chapter 32: Semifinals and Secret Meetings Part 2
Katsuki cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders as he did so, and basked in the sun. Fuck Endeavor's wishes. Dumpster Fire, Second Place, Little Inferno, so many different ways of describing an absolute coward who dared to think that Deku wasn't tough enough to straighten out his shitty brat. He'd come to Katsuki because he, 'didn't want to put that on him,' for all the trouble his little spawn had already caused.
Blah blah blah, something about the eyes of the world, blah blah, heroism and family duty, blah blah, make him give his all, gauge his strength, blah blah. As if Katsuki had ever had any kind of intention on holding back from hitting Daddy Issues with everything he had. If it helped him out in the long run incidentally, so fucking be it. Fucker could figure out his issues after a good ass-kicking as far as he was concerned, because Katsuki was gonna give him one no matter who was asking him to.
The prick had made Deku doubt himself, not even something Katsuki at his worst had ever been able to do to the guy. Every stupid 'lesson' he had taught the nerd about dreaming of the impossible had only ever resulted in him coming back stronger, again and again. Even if it had taken him too long to physically defend himself against the abuse that Katsuki had thrown at him, he had never even come close to giving up.
And sure as shit, here the nerd was, proving everyone wrong, building the impossible and strapping it onto himself like a god damned madman so he could go toe to toe with any challengers that came at him. It was fucking awesome, and this bastard was trying to take that away from him. No way in a frozen hell was that gonna happen while Katsuki was still breathing.
"Now entering from the North gate, he's been an absolute powerhouse throughout this festival and every match he's been in so far. He's loud, he's proud, and he reminds me of a Primeape just a little too much, Katsuki Bakugoooo!" Katsuki scowled as he stepped onto the platform and threw a middle finger towards the announcer's box. That seemed to earn a few laughs from the crowd of extras, but Katsuki still remembered the booing from him and Frog-Legs' fight in the last round. He sneered at them internally as he pulled all the anger he could into himself. The key to winning would be to channel his anger, his fury and every other aspect of himself that he had allowed to run wild in the past into a desire to be the best hero possible, not just the one who was always the victor.
"Now entering from the South gate, coming from a match that sent chills down my spine in more ways than one! The wintry warrior whose icy intensity has us frozen to our seats, crown prince of the fire nation, Shoto Todoroki!"
And there was the prick of the hour himself, same disinterested-but-not-really look smeared over his asymmetrical face, mismatched in a way that could have been harmonious instead of discordant if it weren't for the person bearing them. Maybe Katsuki could make the halves match, and he'd be less of an abhorrent piece of shit.
Katsuki shook himself and pushed that thought down. Heroes didn't go around maiming villains just because they did despicable things. Hell, for all the pain he'd inflicted on Deku, he hadn't ever scarred the poor guy. Physically, anyways. He still hated how he could see him flinch when an unexpected explosion sounded off. All that aside, the fact that he had thought of disfiguring Todoroki, even briefly, made him more than a little uncomfortable with himself.
"Okay boys, we've gone over the rules enough, and I know you're both slinging around some pretty wicked emitter quirks. So just...try and keep it away from the stands, okay?" When Midnight turned to look at him Katsuki grunted in assent. Daddy Issues only nodded to her. Sighing, Midnight brought her whip down and jumped backwards with a yell. "Start!"
And just like that, everything went an off white blue color, and all the heat in the area was snuffed out.
"C'mon Kacchan, that can't be it...you don't have to win but don't let this be it. You can do it Kacchan, come on," muttered Izuku, his eyes rooted to the newest glacier of Todoroki's making. It covered a good half of the ring, while Todoroki himself was standing some distance back on solid tiles, the arena having apparently cycled back to the standard tournament ring for the first two minutes of the match.
Frost trailed from his foot, his stance wider than it had been before, and more rooted too. It seemed like he had needed to brace himself before unleashing that attack, which may have had something to do with the degree of control. While certainly smaller than the stadium topping icebergs he had released before, this one seemed colder, deeper, and judging by the hue, much more compact. In fact, it looked very much like the one he had used to beat Ochaco.
"He'll make it, Deku-kun, he promised he would," said the girl in question. She had cheered excitedly when he returned from his match with Shishida, and had proceeded to pull him down into his seat while talking almost as fast as he could about how great the fight had been. It was nice, just spending a few minutes talking with Ochaco about things not involving fire, ice, explosions, depression, resentment or anger management issues.
"Kacchan has always been a great fighter," Izuku began before trailing off into silence as a wide grin stretched his cheeks. Ochaco looked at him quizzically before she noticed the point his gaze was locked to, and grew her own matching expression.
"K-Katsuki B-B-Bakugo," said Midnight, stepping up to the iceberg. She herself was covered in a small layer of frost, the chill from which easily penetrated the referee's jersey and her normal hero outfit beneath. "If y-you are able t-t-to continue, s-signal now or the m-m-match will be c-called."
Her only answer was a deep, awful groan that emanated from the depths of the icy prison, sounding larger than the entire stadium. An image of glaciers falling apart, ice sheets sliding off the face of the mighty frozen cliffs and crashing into the ocean flashed through Izuku's mind. In the silence that followed the noise, the only thing he could discern were two orange glows gradually growing larger within the ice, and what sounded like faint, distant drum beats. It took only a moment for everyone else to hear the rapid pounding as well, right before the fevered pitch of muffled impacts reached a crescendo.
Midnight jumped away from the frozen prison just in time, barely clearing the edge of the ring as the entire icy structure groaned more ominously than even when Ochaco had used her quirk to tear a chunk of one free in her own match.
The ice shrieked as a massive crack appeared running along its entire height, before widening under the force of dozens of angry blasts. Both halves of the glacier tipped sideways, just far enough for more oxygen to flow into the carved out space Bakugo had melted into the interior. Then, he breathed in, brought his hands together, and with a scowl unlike any he had worn before, let out his biggest explosion yet with a shriek of Die! And then it was snowing.
Katsuki was very rarely able to really cut loose. Too many times he had been told to hold back during training, to avoid really injuring his sparring partners. In his darker days at Aldera, he had always been careful not to hurt people too much, or else he might have gotten a mark on his record. But now, now he was head to head with someone coming at him with an intent, not like the sludge fuck or the villains from the USJ who wanted to kill him, but a different goal. Half and Half had an intent to crush him, to assert his superiority and to show him that his friendship with Deku made him weaker. To prove a point. Well, Katsuki had some pretty good experience at debates considering how much he argued with his mom, so he offered his rebuttal the only way he knew how.
"That all you got, Daddy Issues? I thought the son of the eternal second best might put up more fight than a god damned motel ice machine, but it seems you're all bark and no bite!" Katsuki grunted, flexing his arms to his sides, palms up, and felt the warming crackles of his smallest explosions' blasts heat up him. The bastard wanted to freeze him out like during battle training? Too bad for him, but Katsuki had learnt a trick or two since then.
"Even now, you are distracted, letting the leech rob you of your purpose," replied his opponent, shooting out wave after wave of ice which Katsuki dodged over and around, flipping through the air with his explosions. "If you faced me for your own strength's sake, for your own desire to be victorious, to fulfill your purpose," his arm came up, and with it, dozens of pillars erupted at slanted angles all aiming to trap Katsuki between them, "you might have stood a chance."
Katsuki dodged the first few pillars easily enough, but they kept coming, growing closer and closer with each pass until the edge of one larger pillar that was rocketing by caught his shoulder and threw off his balance in the air. He tumbled, feeling another one slam into his chest and knock the wind from his lungs as it rose up from the ground, lifting him backwards as two more icy columns struck his head and side in tandem. The force of the impact whipped him backwards, and had he not brought his hands up behind him and blasted forward in time, it would have been a ring out.
Setting down on the tournament stage once more, Katsuki took the opportunity to wipe some blood from a cut that had opened above his eyes as he surveyed his opponent, stalking around his advance in a slow half circle. Daddy Issues was calm, breathing evenly where Katsuki was panting, unhurt where he was bleeding, cocky, where Katsuki was trying to be realistic about his chances. Ah, that was it, wasn't it. The bastard thought he was untouchable.
"You know," Katsuki called, hoping to unbalance the boy. "Your dumpster fire of a parent talked to me before the match." Katsuki screwed his face up into the nastiest sneer he could. "Said a bunch of shit about you needing to impress someone or other, I didn't really listen." A wall of ice, the kind the prick had used to try and push Cheeks out of the ring flew forwards. Katsuki met it with both smoking palms, and blasted a hole straight through it as the remains sailed past.
"So, my old man put you up to this, huh? What, did he buy you off?" More ice, now with jagged edges sailed by. Katsuki was just a little too slow as he moved forwards, and one bit a shallow gash into his arm, coming away trailing blood. "Figures."
"Actually I told him to kiss my ass," Katsuki smirked, dodging the next wave of ice and getting directly in front of the boy with two well timed bursts. In a flash he was on him, a wild right haymaker leading into an uppercut from his left that exploded under the other boy's chin, whipping his head back harder than the blow by itself could have ever hoped to. Unfortunately, it seemed the bastard could take a hit up close better than Katsuki had expected, and he found himself being thrown back by an unexpected wave of ice.
He jumped up and back, but his opponent followed, raising a ramp beneath him as he chased Katsuki up and into the air, a single twisting tendril of the frozen crystals climbing up ahead of the ramp and managing to wrap itself around his foot before stopping its growth. Katsuki felt his momentum halt as the tether anchored him to the bastard's ramp, and within a blink the prick was right in front of him, one hand reaching out with steaming cold shimmering from his palm. Katsuki felt his anger break. To lose like this, so soon, it would be unacceptable.
He brought both his hands up in front of Icy-Hot, bracing his shoulders as best he could. Twin blasts, each the size of one of the ones he had launched to break free of the glacier a mere minute and a half before. He felt the muscles in his shoulders strain, some tore, as the blasts ripped forward, engulfing the bastard and the bridge he rode in on in one huge fireball of light and sound.
"You're bleeding, Bakugo," said Todoroki, emerging from the smoke with his arms raised above his head, a series of three shattered ice walls reduced to powder before him. Apparently, they had taken the brunt of the blast, but Katsuki could tell that the bastard was slowing down. Frost was creeping up along his side, his breath was puffing out in clouds, and either he was seeing things, or the frozen asshole was shivering. "And unlike me, you're not used to the cold."
His opponent charged him, moving slower but not slow enough for Katsuki to be sure his next strike would land. He mentally shrugged and surged to meet him anyways, managing to bat away the boy's frosty hand in a grab reminiscent of Deku before following up by rolling his shoulder, flaring up with pain against the motion, and launching into a devastating right straight that connected with the bastard's solar plexus. There was a crunch beneath his knuckles, but his oppponent kept on him and Katsuki was forced to create some distance.
He grimaced through two small explosions which propelled him backwards and singed the front of the asshole's shirt, but the other boy stepped up again, sending out two waves of jagged ice along either side of them to hem Katsuki in. When he pirouetted around a point between Katsuki's legs and sent up another pillar from where his foot met the ground, Katsuki managed to surprise his opponent with a large blast to the scarred half of his face, pushing him back through a wall of his own ice.
Katsuki charged, two larger explosions ready to be unleashed at close range to hopefully knock the boy out of the arena, but he found himself rebuffed by yet another pillar, this time slamming up from nowhere into his stomach and forcing some bile from his throat as it flung him back. Two fighters, one with medium and close range attacks, the other with better coverage at medium and long range but theoretically able to fight from anywhere, of course it was going like this. Katsuki spat off to the side as he considered his opponent, who was clearly icing over more and more as the fight continued.
"Y'know what, Icy-Hot," grunted Katsuki, wiping yet more blood from the cut above his eye. "I'll give ya this, you're a good fighter. But you're gonna be a terrible hero." Smoke was beginning to rise up from the ground, the tiles darkening as the arena began to change. They had passed two minutes, and depending on what came next, Katsuki figured he would have an opportunity to turn the tide.
"I don't care," came the reply. Katsuki shrugged, noticing with some satisfaction as the emerging shapes revealed themselves to be the blackened, blazing trunks of the conflagration arena. The heat was steadily rising.
"Course not, which is why you're gonna be shit at it. Hell, I bet you won't even ever get second place like Dumpster Fire," he laughed. The bastard took a step forward, noticing his surroundings for the first time and seeming to relax some of the tension he had been holding as the ice that had crept up his side began to run off in little rivulets.
"Try to rile me up all you want, Bakugo. Without having to worry about the drawbacks of my quirk, I can make as much ice as I want. You're done standing in my way."
"Oh yeah," queried Katsuki, smiling with all of his teeth as he dropped low and spread his arms out. The feeling of coldness that had numbed some of the pain from his blasts' recoil faded, but with its departure came a much more limber feel to his arms and legs. "You're not the only one that thrives in the heat, bastard!"
"Oh no," muttered Izuku, his fingers rubbing into his temples as he watched the melodrama before him. He had been annoyed when they started talking to each other, and his headache had progressed along since then seeing the two go at it as they had.
"Midoriya, what are you perceiving that we are not?" inquired Iida from the row of seats behind them. He had swapped places to be sitting on the opposite side of his brother so that Mei could take his seat, while Yaoyorozu took Mei's chair after the girl had moved.
"Besides the fact that they won't stop talking to each other? Too much to list," he grumbled, earning a prod and a teasing look from Ochaco. He sighed and recollected himself. "Sorry, yeah, they're in the middle of an inferno and Todoroki is sending out ice attacks at a really alarming rate since he's not freezing from his own quirk anymore. Meanwhile, Kacchan has also lost some of the effects of Todoroki's cold, mainly, he's going to be sweating more. It's like the inverse of the battle trial. Neither one is dealing with a limit on their quirk right now, and when fire and ice, or fire and explosions, combine, then you end up running the risk of-" a massive explosion of steam and ice shards pouring out from the arena cut him off mid sentence.
"Holy hell folks, what is going on down there? According to our ref on the ground the battle continues but visibility is low; looks like a fog bank that wasn't predicted on the morning forecast. Whoops, strike that, looks like there's some sudden showers of...bits of the arena and ice. Cover your heads folks, these two are going all out, and it's outta sight! Literally!"
"Sublimation," explained Yaoyorozu, sliding a number of umbrellas from her forearm and passing them around to the group as debris continued to fall around them. The steam from the blast covered the stage in glowing red clouds as the fires within continued to rage, and the sounds of creaking ice and snapping explosions continued to echo out of the center. "Instant phase-change, solid to gas without going to a liquid state first. Tends to be rather...energetic."
"Wouldn't be a problem if the peppermint stick just made his ice a bit less cold, had it spring up closer to the melting point than all he does now."
"Uhm, Hatsume, Todoroki-san's quirk is ice and fire generation, it doesn't say anything in the registry about if he could control the temperature of either." Iida looked a bit affronted at the idea of Todoroki having deceived their class with his explanation of his quirk, or of the registry being improperly filed. Mei waved him down.
"If people never bothered to try experimenting or growing with their quirks, then what's the point of being at a hero school? Technique? Nuh uh, I've been watching the other two festival stages, and I've seen most of those kids before in the last two years. They've all changed how they use their quirks, and what they can do with them."
"She's got a point little bro," said Ingenium, throwing a handful of popcorn into his mouth, "I developed Recipro Burst at UA. Before that, we didn't even know that the Engine quirks could go into overdrive."
"Guys, this is an interesting discussion, but I think the steam is clearing now," said Ochaco, waving a hand in front of her face to dispel the few wisps that floated up. "Oh, shit," she said a second later, with Izuku echoing her sentiment and Iida seemingly too shocked to offer a rebuke for the swearing.
The arena was a hellscape as the steam cleared away, craters and ice spikes mixed with flaming trees to create a vision of two competing apocalypses having come to do battle in a tournament ring. Katsuki grimaced as he clutched at his side, the long, sharp icicle that had pierced his skin hadn't struck anything vital, but it stung like a bitch when he had broken it off, and now blood was pouring down his torn gym uniform. Daddy Issues wasn't doing much better across from him, the telltale starburst burns on his arms and face light enough that they wouldn't scar, but clear evidence that Katsuki had given as good as he got.
"With visibility on the field much improved, we'll resume our running commentary on the battle. Both fighters seem to have taken a pretty significant beating, but no clear winner has emerged yet. Another arena change is imminent folks, how will this change things up?"
"If either were acting logically, one would surrender, considering the state of their injuries. Ultimately though these students will treat this like a real mission, where success is everything, so I don't really expect either to back down."
"Still think...you're the hottest shit here...Icy-Hot?" breathed Katsuki, bringing his hands up once again in his ready stance. The bastard didn't move though, just staring in seeming horror at the wound in Katsuki's side. For some reason, that made him angrier. "What, you think you'll put me down with a little love tap like that? Well fuck you!"
He charged, only a little slower than before as the adrenaline carried him through the pain and exhaustion, and his burning jab clipped the Half and Half Bastard on the shoulder as the boy seemed to regain his senses before leaning into a dodge that only barely saved him from the brunt of Katsuki's attack. A hand dancing with an icy aura came up to seize Katsuki by the neck, but he once more blasted it back, and this time it stayed off him. Then, he was in the prick's face, firmly inside his guard, and he didn't hold back.
Explosion after explosion landed alongside his fists as they traveled to revisit every weak point and to rain down anew on each inch of flesh that hadn't yet been struck as Katsuki drove forward. A jab, an uppercut, a hook, each fell in turn onto the boy's chin and cheeks, seeming to daze him more and more as the fireworks ignited in his face. Katsuki's grin turned feral as he screamed his fury onto the boy, who made a decent effort to block, and where he couldn't, still didn't fall under the hits. A fully charged blast at the end of a particularly strong strike saw him tip backwards, almost over the edge of the arena as he lost his balance, but Katsuki stuck out an arm and grabbed the boy's wrist before throwing him back into the center of the arena.
"I ain't done with you yet, bastard!" Katsuki growled, advancing on the boy as he raised himself up from the ground and sent a wave of ice towards him. A flick of his arm saw Katsuki blowing away the surging icicles with a decently large explosion. He was still sweating quite heavily, after all. "All that just now, Half and Half? That was for you and your old man pissing me the fuck off." He charged forward just as his opponent got back to his feet and braced himself against a wall of ice.
"This," he screamed, slamming his fists down over and over into the boy's crossed arms and leaving behind more and more burns, "is for making Cheeks cry!" An uppercut through the guard pushed him back with enough force to surprise the boy into shattering his own icy wall. "This," he screamed, flying forward with explosions and kicking the boy across the chest with a flying roundhouse, "is for thinking you can be a hero with only half your fucking power, and for all the people that are gonna die for it!"
The wretch went flying towards the edge of the arena again, but sprung to his feet before Katsuki could grab him and throw him back, anger and fear flashing across his mismatched face in equal measure. He brought his foot down hard enough to crack the scorched earth beneath his heel, and another glacier large enough to top the stadium rose up to meet Katsuki mid leap. Swearing, he brought his hand up to brace one arm over the other while charging an explosion through clenched fingers on his less damaged hand.
Katsuki had meant to save it for the nerd when he met him in the finals, but when faced with not being able to finish what he started, he decided that immediate victory was more important than showing Deku how he had grown. There was enough heated air around him already to sustain his attack, so the prerequisite explosions for Howitzer Impact were unnecessary. Gritting his teeth and hoping the damage wouldn't be too bad, Katsuki screamed out his attack, just to mess with Deku.
"Howitzer Impact: Rolling Barrage!"
The first fiery tornado of explosive energy that crashed into the glacier wouldn't have been enough to shatter it, not since his opponent had used the harder, solid ice that had fucked up Cheeks. But the second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh blasts tore through all of the defenses that the boy could throw up against it. Distantly, Katsuki heard something from the Sex Offender and Blockhead about structural integrity or something, but he didn't care. As five massive stone walls shot up between the rest of his blasts and their target, he laughed.
The walls crumpled under the force of the blasts, and it seemed that his opponent had tried to match Katsuki's own offensive push. The burst of super heated air that resulted threw him back as he fell down out of his leap, and it was only thanks to two final explosions that he stayed inside the ring as his feet hit the tile of the arena. Apparently at some point the arena had reset during the blast, but Katsuki didn't care. All he wanted was to know if he needed to keep going or not.
Painfully slowly the smoke cleared, and his question was answered. In a sprawl of limbs and scorch marks, Daddy Issues was laid out in a crater that encompassed his entire side of the arena and even dug down into the dirt of the stadium and some of the subterranean tunnels beneath. Aside from the gentle rise and fall of the prick's chest, he made no movement, and it was to that sight that Katsuki raised up his own scorched, bleeding fist in triumph.
"And that's for making Izuku doubt himself," he said, spitting off to the side and lowering his arm.
"What the hell is with you kids this year," grumbled Midnight, replacing her referee hat and headset once more as she climbed up onto the stage, the little set of stairs she would normally use having been lost in the blast. Katsuki shrugged at her, too tired now to be abrasive.
"Shoto Todoroki is unconscious. Katsuki Bakugo wins by knockout, and will advance to the final round!"
Through the ringing in his ears, Katsuki was aware of the cheers of the crowd, the exclamations of the watching pros, even the Cockatoo's continuing efforts to embarrass himself through his commentary. What broke through everything else though, were the cheers from one particular section of the stands, where the nerd and all his other friends were standing up in their seats, cheering their loudest. Across that distance, he somehow still managed to lock eyes with Izuku, who got a serious look on his face. He nodded to him, and Katsuki returned the gesture before a pair of medical bots rolled up to him. Deciding not to argue, he followed the things down his hallway and back into the guts of the stadium as they made their way to Recovery Girl's infirmary.
"And that, I rather believe, is that, Chisaki-san," said All for One, leaning back in his chair and regarding the youth before him. The boy was ambitious, ready to do whatever was necessary to repay the man who had brought him into the Yakuza and saved his life. His peculiarities were tolerable, and his quirk seemed content enough where it was that he would likely allow it to remain with the boy. And of course, the research. Oh yes, the research.
The doctor would be working closely with this one, keeping an eye on his progress, refining his process. Some parts of his mind shrieked at the photos within the case, pictures of the extraction process, but he pushed them down and locked them away, laughing as the obstinate quirks were shackled to his will.
Still, there were easier ways to go about it, less painful ones which wouldn't render the child useless. If young Eri could learn to control her ability to manipulate time, well, the possibilities were tantalizing. Naturally, he could not risk taking the girl's quirk, not yet anyways. Time quirks were always tricky, and even ones that simply altered a user's perception of time, like that of the former O'Clock, could deteriorate rapidly outside their host body.
"You have agreed to the terms I have set out Chisaki. You will have the laboratories and equipment you require to continue your work in earnest, but, as both an expression of your loyalty and a kind of... collateral if you will, the child will remain at one of my facilities where you will be able to make use of her." Surprisingly, the boy did not immediately acquiesce, instead rising to stare at him with some suspicion evident in his shrewd eyes.
"While I would never seek to disrespect you, Sensei, I must try and dissuade you from that course of action. The entirety of the research hinges on Eri's accessibility and continued safety, something the Eight Precepts have been overseeing for quite some time now. It would be inefficient to remove her from our custody at this point."
All for One nodded and let out a low rumble from the back of his throat. He was feeling the blood beginning to build in his gorge, the creeping sickness that he could only barely ever escape closing in on him once more like a dog tracking its wounded quarry. Beneath the mask, his eyes hardened and the projected voice came out with a bite to it.
"You would doubt the abilities of the Underworld's King to protect one child? Do you see me as so weak as to require a supplicant's tutelage in this matter? I know how to ensure the security of a precious asset, and have done so many more times than the number of years you have been alive. Do not forget your place, my boy." He calmed somewhat, pushing down the feelings as they rose up, as one quirk or other sought to exert more influence onto his mind in that second of weakness.
"I meant no disrespect," said the chastened Yakuza, dipping forward to the ground again. "I only meant to avoid distracting your efforts from your other endeavors."
"You would do well to remember that loyalty to my orders supersedes loyalty to the man or idea I represent to you. I will brook no disobedience to the letter of my commands." He rose from his seat at that and clapped his hands, motioning for the Yakuza to stand. Hesitantly at first, he did so, barely coming up to All for One's chest, and the child beside him not even at his knee yet.
"A reassurance for you then, Chisaki my boy. Your lab, and an extra set of living quarters will be made available at the facility where Eri will be staying. In exchange, I would only ask that you assist one of my best men with his research efforts. I fancy that you and he should find common ground in your thoughts on quirks."
The boy held a calculating look for one moment before turning to face the villain and dipping into a more formal bow.
"Your terms are more than fair. The Eight Precepts are yours to command, my Lord. Please, lead us back to greatness." It was a good statement, a pleasant feeling at hearing that he had acquired a new and useful tool. But, ah, there was a tiny hint of reservation in the boy's voice, a certain way he held himself that hunted at betrayal down the line, at knives in the dark and blood in his floors.
Problems for another time though. Now, he had a mission to assign. The Yakuza cell's first mission in fact. Holding his hand out, a steel tube with a metal cap on one end dropped out of the air in a purple swirl and landed gently in All for One's outstretched grasp.
"Here you will find the details of my first task for you and your organization, Chisaki. You will be receiving assistance on this errand from a group known as the Tower Company. Have you heard of them?"
"Mercenaries, an international group. It was rumored they've been increasing their operations in the South China Sea and more broadly the entirety of East Asia lately. I take it those rumors stem from this?"
"Not all of them, but yes, some. They have proven themselves dependable enough that I am comfortable making use of them soon. Ah, but there are secrets you are now privy to that must be revealed if you are to complete your mission." He snapped his fingers and a portal slightly larger than the one he had entered through appeared before them.
"I take it your secrets are through here?" Asked the young man. All for One chuckled at the bluntness of the inquiry.
"And more, yes. Your ward's living arrangements are also within, as well as your adjoining lab. Your device will work, so feel free to dismiss your escort at any time. I myself will be attending to other matter, but the man you shall meet, ah, Dr. Daruma Ujiko, will be able to help you. Until we meet again, be well, Chisaki and work diligently. I expect great things from you."
"I expect them of myself, my lord. I will not fail in this endeavor."
"See that you don't," he smiled under the mask, waiting for the pair to depart through the portal.
"Uh, t-thank you, f-for the new house we're g-going to, Goryō-sama," whispered Eri. All for One made some noise of approval and sent a glare towards Chisaki when he moved to chastise the girl, and watched intently as the two stepped through the portal.
Alone once more, he allowed himself to fall backwards through his own exit gate.
Gasping and seeping blood from his mouth, All for One fell through the beautiful nothingness of the in-between from Kurogiri's quirk before landing in his bed, with the cursed tubes and needles surging up to sink into his flesh. His aid worked with quick, deft hands, reattaching the various life support devices that delivered the sustaining medicine to his broken body.
The work of the flesh sculpting quirk he had used earlier was undone as he freed himself from the mask and set it aside, the unnatural form of his wounded head resuming its shape once again. Kurogiri would return the mask to its proper place later, once the task before him was completed. Right now, he knew, the specter wouldn't leave his side unless directly ordered to.
As the machinery worked its process on him, All for One began to recede into the depths of his own mind, finally waving away Kurogiri after having the man turn on his music. Some of the old Bowie from before even he had been born accompanied him as the ancient man combed through his recollection of the meeting with the Yakuza.
For all the life of him, a quite substantial one to be sure, he couldn't figure out what it was really that had led him to demand custody over the child. Perhaps it was some ancient pang of sympathy, seeing a frail looking child with white hair staring up at him stirring a recollection of his brother. But no, there was little chance of that. He hadn't been swayed before, even when faced with practical doppelgangers of his family over the years in his many quirk centers.
Ah, but there was time for pondering later. At the moment, he wished to measure young Tomura's progress in his research, while also enjoying more of the music that filtered through the air like delicious incense. Watching through the monitor in the bar that the boy only thought was turned off, the man who had once been Shigaraki let himself relax. Unnoticed by the terrible being, one of the quirks he had thought he had restrained earlier slithered back to its expected spot among the rest of the screaming entities in his unholy chorus, unfelt and unwatched, but watching and feeling in turn.
Chapter 33: Pain and Glory
"Why" - ow - "do" - ow - " you" - ow - "let" - ow -"them" - ow - "pull" - ow - "these" - oof - "stunts!" Recovery Girl exclaimed, finishing her verbal and physical assault against Toshinori by suddenly switching from her overhead whacks to an unexpected jab with her cane right into his gut. He doubled over at that, grateful that Inko was still up in the stands watching the first years while he dealt with Mirio's latest injury alongside the boy's father.
"But I got first place," the boy cheered, both arms in slings with no small amount of purple visible on what exposed skin there was beneath the bandages. "And since I finished early, I get to watch Izukun in his last match!"
"You will do nothing except sit in this bed and think about what an idiot you are while your bones set so I can heal them properly," chided Recovery Girl, wheeling over on her chair and glaring daggers at the aspiring hero. Grateful for the temporary reprieve, Toshinori found himself turning towards Mr. Togata, who throughout the whole thing had kept a quiet, easy smile on his face.
"I do sincerely apologize, Toagta-san," said Toshinori, bowing to the man. "As your son's mentor, I have failed to teach him the proper attitude towards restraint." The man laughed in dismissal and waved a wand.
"Yagi-san, there are some things that you cannot take onto your shoulders. My son's stubbornness is without a doubt something that no one could control."
"Ah, but, I-"
"I won't hear any more of it. You're doing all you can to help him master this power, and that's a far sight more than I was ever able to do with Permeation. The fact that he has someone to show him the ropes at all means the world to both his Mother and me, Yagi." Toshinori wanted to protest, but recognized the gleam in the other man's eyes as the one he sometimes saw in Mirio's, that obstinate refusal to back down no matter what, because the matter at hand was important.
"I, well...Thank you, Togata-san," he conceded, bowing his head.
"Can we put on a live stream from the first year stage at least?" pleaded Mirio, perking up from the bed he was in as the sounds of med bots echoed down the hallway leading into the infirmary. "I'd use my phone, but I can't tap the screen right now."
"Welp, I reckon the kid's earned tha' much at least." Said Snipe, appearing from behind a divider curtain wearing some brown scrubs and his usual gas mask and cowboy hat. "The feller did manage to only break his own bones, and not the other kids'."
"Why do I even bother trying...getting you lot to take care of yourselves is like herding cats. Only Aizawa can do it, and even he's terrible at it." Young Togata chuckled from his bed, and Toshinori couldn't help the grin that crept its way up his face. It vanished almost immediately as the door to the infirmary was flung open before two of his students were brought inside.
Young Todoroki was laid out on a stretcher, still unconscious from the looks of things, and battered all over. His PE uniform torn and burned in several places, and more than a fair share of cuts and scrapes littered his skin. Young Bakugo followed, walking in under his own power, but only barely.
The temperamental youth had obvious swelling and deep bruising around his shoulders and forearms. His hands were sporting a mishmash of lacerated flesh and blackened skin in parts where not even his normal physical adaptations to his quirk had prevented the damage of his blasts. Pushing a quirk, any quirk, was dangerous, but to push one as powerful as the boy's Explosion as far as he did could have been disastrous.
"Snipe, take the less injured one, I'm prioritizing Todoroki. Standard assessment for now on Bakugo," ordered Recovery Girl, the somewhat exaggerated exasperation she had displayed in her rebuke of Toshinori and Mirio evaporating instantly as she got to work.
"Shit son, y'all look like the walkin' dead," drawled Snipe, stepping over to examine Bakugo as the two medical bots that had been escorting him wheeled away. A stethoscope was held up to his chest as the pro checked the boy's breathing.
"Hmm, breathing is okay if labored, can't rule out cervical spine injury yet. Alrigh' partner, gonna have ya on tha backboard afore we set ya down, just in case."
Uncharacteristically, Bakugo didn't protest, only grunted at the cowboy hero in acceptance before a pair of medical bots approached with the backboard in question. A few moments of activity saw him secured and horizontal as the pro continued his check.
"Alrigh', good news is, spine's lookin' fine, no subcutaneous air in yer neck or chest, far as I can tell. Gonna unstrap ya, but try not ta turn yer head till I say so." The man did as he said, and again somewhat surprisingly, Bakugo remained still.
"This one's got a cracked rib, going on oxygen. We've got a tank for him, but be ready for the BVM if another one comes in," yelled Recovery Girl from her spot next to Todoroki.
"Got ya ma'am," said Snipe, moving around Bakugo as he checked his pulse in multiple spots. "I'm gonna go ahead and say circulation is good, temperature stable, and," he pressed a sleek device to Bakugo's abdomen before examining the readout it displayed, "we can rule out internal hemorrhaging."
Toshinori let out the breath he had been holding, glad that at least one of his students hadn't been injured too severely in that match. It had been nowhere near the level of some of the fights he had seen as a pro, but it certainly was a lot for first year heroics students to endure.
"Alrigh', gonna give ya another once over partner, shirt off if ya don't mind." Said Snipe, pulling the curtains around the bed Bakugo had been laid in. Though muffled, Toshinori could still hear his colleague's assessment.
"Well shit kid, sorry for ma terrible bedside, but tha right there looks like it hurts ta all hell."
"Doesn't matter," grunted Bakugo from behind the curtain. "Gotta finish this bitch of a festival. Gotta face Deku."
"Them there bruises aside, ya taken a look at yer arms there partner? That's classic quirk overuse if'n I ever seen it. You ain't gonna be blowin' anything up fer a few days at least. Freaking miracle you were able ta keep it up as long as ya did with Todoroki anyhow."
There was a brief rustle of cloth before the curtain was thrown back, Bakugo angrily staring out into the infirmary, obviously looking for something.
"Have the doc fix me up then," he demanded, his hard glare landing on Toshinori for a moment. The boy's eyes narrowed in suspicion, but he eventually averted his gaze as he zeroed in on the Youthful Heroine, who had just finished settling Todoroki into his bed.
"Can't," she replied sternly, turning to glower right back at the hothead just as fiercely. "You don't have the energy for it, and even if you did, you'd still be disallowed from using your quirk. I trust Snipe's assessment as much as my own, if he says your quirk is at risk of permanent damage, then it's at risk of permanent damage and you will not be using it for a while young man."
Bakugo looked like he was about to argue back when the infirmary door slammed open, a wide eyed Young Midoriya standing in the frame snapping his head back and forth across the room until he zeroed in on his recovering friend. Even without a quirk or his gear engaged, the boy moved so quickly that Toshinori could have blinked and missed the moment when he went from standing at the entrance to Young Bakugo's bedside.
"Kacchan! That was great Kacchan, even though you kept yelling stuff during the fight, you know what I think about that, but what I think isn't important, and even I have to admit that 'Rolling Barrage' is a great name for that technique! Maybe you don't have to shout it out, but maybe you could just name your attacks in your head when you practice them like American katas in their martial arts or something and just do a kiai or something else when you have to use it, but what I really wanted to-"
"Izukun!" shouted Mirio, jumping from his nearby bed and trying to hug the boy with both his arms still in their slings. After a moment of bemusement at his predicament the older boy simply leaned down and gently knocked his forehead against Izuku's, who looked up at him with wide, concerned eyes.
"Aniki! W-w-what happened to your arms? You said you wouldn't go over forty percent like we had talked about, and now you won't be able to-"
"If you're well enough to stand around and scream then get out of my infirmary!" Interrupted the irate Recovery Girl, so much annoyance radiating off of her that the air was at risk of combusting in a blaze that would rival Endeavor. "Use the room you were in before!" she ordered, pointing with her cane towards the door to the adjoining prep room. Choosing life over whatever should await him if he angered the old pro any further, Izuku grabbed Bakugo and pulled him up from the bed and into the next room while Mirio followed behind laughing.
Toshinori could only shake his head in confusion while Mr. Togata patted him congenially on the arm. The look that he gave Toshinori spoke more words than were contained within an entire one of Young Midoriya's notebooks, and Toshinori felt himself relax. The boys would be fine.
Glancing at the wall clock he realized that he would probably only have a bit of time left to spend with Inko before he would have to leave for the medal ceremony. Smiling like Nana had taught him he got up and faced the mountain of stairs that led back up to the boxes with a smile, not noticing how much easier the climb up was than it should have been for him.
"So let me get this straight," said Mirio, a confused look on his plain features. Bakugo was sat at one end of the table with his arms crossed, completely wrapped in bandages now, while Izuku was two chairs down, closer to Mirio. The moment they had entered the room, each had begun to talk over the other before devolving into confused, then angry shouting. Mirio was having none of it.
"Izuku, wants to concede the fight," the boy nodded, and averted his gaze from both Mirio and Bakugo. "And Bakugo says he'll forfeit first if you try."
"Well it's not like I can-"
"Deku should just man the fuck up and-"
"Hey!" Interceded Mirio, slamming a foot onto the table with a loud crash as the two boys spoke over each other. "From the top, guys. Bakugo can't use his quirk for a while because he overdid it," that earned a grunt, "and Izuku is all out of charge for his armor and can't find any more juice. So, neither of you intends to fight the other."
"It ain't right if stupid Deku loses just cause the asshole school won't let him bring more stupid batteries to shove up his ass! That kinda win don't count!"
"I'm not going to just go out there and beat up my friend when he can't fight back!" Mirio smiled widely as the two turned slowly to look at each other.
"You think I'd lose just because I can't use my fucking quirk, Deku? Hah!" Bakugo glared from his seat at the table, and Izuku matched his glare with one of his own.
"You honestly think you could beat me in a quirkless fight? You've never fought quirkless before, and I've been doing it my whole life!"
"You're the one that's always saying quirks are just tools!" Bakugo stood from his chair, tipping it back over as he grit his teeth and scowled at Izuku. Mirio thought to step between them but then decided better of it. Better to let them work it out, so long as no one got violent.
"Tools that you have no experience being without!" Replied Izuku, rising from his own chair to stand opposite Bakugo. "You know that I have more experience in martial arts and quirkless fighting than you, why are you so willing to lose! You hate losing! We both know you'd win if you could use your quirk, so just let me concede and take the win you deserve!"
Bakugo relaxed somewhat, closing his eyes and counting under his breath as his shoulders drooped, though it was clearly evident that the boy was still angry.
"Deku," he growled, "A: me winning if we go head to head ain't no foregone conclusion. You and me are rivals, got it? That means you can and do challenge me, bastard." His expression suddenly grew even more serious. "Second, you said you never were before, but you're looking down on me right now." Across from him, Izuku visibly paled, and Mirio felt unease rising in his gut.
"Kacchan, I-"
"Shut up," Bakugo interrupted. "You think I'm just my quirk now too, hah? Bullshit! Look at your own goddamn philosophy you fucking nerd! If I'm not willing to fight with everything, to go down fighting, then I'm no better than goddamn Icy-Hot, and I refuse to be beneath that bastard."
Izuku was quiet for a moment, looking at Bakugo for far too long before he glanced towards Mirio, seeking reassurance, guidance, something, anything Mirio could give him to help. He didn't know what to say though, so instead, Mirio simply returned his gaze with a faint smile, trying to say through his expression what he couldn't through his words. Izuku seemed to reach a decision after that, and returned his attention to Bakugo.
"You're right, Kacchan. I'm sorry for...I'm sorry for forgetting that, and for underestimating you." Izuku's expression fell, and if Mirio had an arm free he would have reached out to squeeze his shoulder. "I won't concede the match. I'm sorry for not giving you the respect I've given to my other opponents."
"Stop your moping and apologizing already and get ready to fight me, nerd. And don't think you've won anything just because you've got some fancy ass black belts and shit. I ain't no Insomnia-bitch either, so gimme all you got!" Bakugo brought a fist up in front of himself, glaring hard, but not in anger so much as determination.
"Right, Kacchan." Said Izuku with only a bit of hesitation, mirroring the boy opposite him.
"Glad you guys got that figured out," laughed Mirio, finally feeling the tension seep out of the room. Even as they relaxed though, something else roiled through his thoughts, an uncomfortable knowledge that Izuku was owed answers. About why he and the others followed him before and after school, about his quirk and its loss, and about who it was that was watching him now. And he was due those answers soon, per his promise.
All Might had been adamant about not revealing the secret of One for All, and out of respect for his master, Mirio was resolved to at least hold onto that secret. But Izuku was smart, he saw things that others didn't. Would he notice the link between All Might, himself, and the ancient evil that was moving in from the dark if he were made aware of it? Once he knew of the battle that he had gotten wrapped up in at only four years old, what would he do?
And what of Mirio himself? He had done as All Might had asked, announced his presence to the world, hell he had gotten first place, something he could never have hoped to do in the first or second years. But didn't that also mean he had shown himself to his fated enemy? Shown his weakness, his inability to make the power his own, for the ancient mastermind to exploit?
He breathed in, then out, resting his head on top of Izuku's shoulder as the announcer called out that the repairs to the arena had been completed. One thing was for sure, even if Recovery Girl wouldn't let him back into the stands, he'd be cheering louder than anyone for his little bro, no matter what happened. The rest could come later.
Izuku felt sick with himself as he stood in the entrance tunnel, waiting for his teacher to call out his introduction. For all his proclamations, he had written off the idea of Bakugo being able to fight him without his quirk. Worse, he had actually had the nerve to pity the boy, to think his friend's ego and desire to win were more important to him now than Izuku's respect for him as an individual was. He had reduced Bakugo to his quirk and tied his worth as an opponent to it just like all those sycophants at Aldera.
It hurt, really hurt, knowing that he was just as capable of being quirkist as anyone else. In light of the uncomfortable feelings twisting up his guts now, he could sympathize with how All Might had initially spoken to him on that rooftop. It didn't sting any less, but he could see how the symbol of peace had done what he had. But then, All Might had recognized him too, after everything. Taken him under his wing since coming to UA alongside Mirio, and had put him in touch with David Shield before that.
If someone who had previously dismissed him out of hand could come to value Izuku the way the number one hero had, then he owed it to Bakugo to give it his all in this fight, even if that meant using everything he had to win. Sure, he was out of explosions, out of charge, wouldn't be able to fly, or use his boosters, but none of that negated the fact that he was wrapped in a protective shell over his chest, arms, and legs. A shell that he had already put aside on more than one occasion during the tournament for the sake of his own illogical pride, or for underlining a point.
Thought of through that lens, it made it almost too easy to relax, to send the impulse through the interface at his neck to collapse the armor covering him into the compact disk that sat over his back. Bakugo might not like it, but then again, maybe he would see that Izuku acknowledged the point he had made about tools as well. Bereft of anything other than their bodies and their skills, they could have a match that showed their own strength, their ability to go beyond the expectations that had been laid on their shoulders by the circumstances of their births.
"Plus Ultra," he whispered to himself, staring at his naked fist as Present Mic finally called out his cue to enter.
Inko Midoriya was a worrier by nature, but she was also a strong, determined mother who had always believed that her son had greatness within him. There had been moments, terrible moments when she had almost faltered, almost asked him to put aside his dreams for something simpler, safer, where he could excel without facing all the opposition that he had in his quest to become a hero. But then, she had remembered the kind words of Dr. Tsubasa when he had been diagnosed, and how the light had come back in her son's eyes after hearing them. After seeing them shine once more, she couldn't bear the thought of seeing those precious emeralds become dull and hopeless ever again.
When he stepped out onto the field in the first event her heart sang. He was so happy, so determined, and most of all, he clearly belonged there. He would defy every challenge, overcome any obstacle, because her son was a fighter through and through, and his classmates knew and respected that. Now, as she waited for the final match Toshinori suddenly appeared at her side carrying more refreshments, and reassured her that Mirio and Mr. Togata both were doing well enough.
Briefly, she considered broaching the topic of the HPSC agents' visit to the man beside her, hoping that he might have some insight on what they might try and do to secure her cooperation. But then, the announcement came over the speaker, and she was wrapped up in watching the match, making a mental note that she would ask him once she was more sure she could trust him. Toshinori had been important to Izuku, he had helped him through a bad time, but she couldn't shake the feeling he was also keeping secrets, from her and her son both.
"Spectators and scouts, heroes and heroines, friends and family, the moment you've been waiting for is about to arrive! The first year sports festival tournament's final match is about to begin! Can I get a YEAH?" Inko had to cover her ears at Present Mic's last word, and kept them covered as the stadium responded much more enthusiastically than the students had during the hero's intro at the entrance exam.
"Before we begin this final match, there are special circumstances which require explanation! As a result of their last matches, our two finalists are unable to make full use of their respective abilities during this final round. As such, per our lovely Medical Matron Recovery Girls's standing order, they will be allowed to compete, but with restrictions."
The crowd made a confused noise, but Inko had already figured out that neither Katsuki nor her boy were at full strength. Their last matches had been heart pounding, and she had cried enough to leave a waterfall cascading down the stairs. Still, she couldn't deny that they had been exciting, too.
"Because of these rules, this last bout is an exhibition of pure skill! No arena rocking blasts allowed, and no more arena changes. For continuing to fight on despite the rough road they've faced to get here, and the kind of plus ultra attitude that means they never quit, give it up for our finalists, as well as everyone else who has competed for your enjoyment today! YEAHHHH!"
The cheer that echoed him was definitely quieter than the first, and Inko felt herself scowling out at the crowd from her box. What kind of monsters were disappointed that children had been hurt or exhausted badly enough that they couldn't use their quirks safely?
"Worry not, Inko," said Toshinori, resting a bony hand on her shoulder and giving her a grin that looked just a bit fuller than the ones he had been flashing earlier, before gesturing out in a sweeping gesture with his free hand towards the crowd. "It will take time, but they will come to see your boy as I have. They may be disappointed now, but I guarantee you, they'll be cheering their hearts out by the end." She was about to respond when Present Mic interrupted again.
"All right folks, it's time for the final showdown! Entering from the south gate, he's the lord of explosive destruction, and if you could hear him talk you'd know he's more of a walking F-bomb than an A-bomb. Don't let the temper fool you, despite the short fuse, this overlord of ordnance obliterates opposition with oppressive outbursts, he's Katsuuukkkiiii Bakugooooooo!"
Inko had to admit, the announcer seemed to be doing a pretty good job of hyping the crowd back up, even if his alliteration was getting a bit grating. If the cut off groan she heard begin over the microphone was any indication, his co-host likely held similar views.
"And now, entering from the North gate, the armored apocalypse, his furious ferrous fists were forged in fire, and the only thing sharper than this kid's mind is his battle sense. This green guy's success ain't no gimmick, with a gusto for gear this genius is going for gold. Give it up for the boy who breaks expectations and his opponents like they're not even there, Izuuuukkkuuuuu Miiidoriyaaaaaa!"
And there was her son, standing proud and tall, a young man growing into himself as both a person and a hero. She had seen how he tried to help others even when competing against them, how he had walked off with his opponents rather than away from them. She had cheered for his victories and gasped at the close calls, and no matter what came of this match, she was as proud as it was possible to be of her boy.
Down on the field, she saw Izuku and Katsuki bow to each other before each brought their fists up, waiting for the signal from their teacher to begin. The crack of the whip, the last of the day, rang out harsher than a gunshot.
"Start!" Bellowed Midnight, and they began.
It was a long, and ultimately bloody affair. In a mirror of Katsuki's bandaged arms Izuku had wrapped his own hands, and as the fight dragged on both boys stained the white bandages with each other's blood.
It started with a right hook from Katsuki that Izuku caught, almost pulling the boy into a headlock before they danced apart. A searching kick from Katsuki grazed Izuku's thigh as her son brought his own snapping leg up into his friend's side.
Katsuki rushed again, but it was clear Izuku had the advantage, sinking Katsuki by buckling his knee and bringing an elbow across the boy's face, knocking him back and away. They surveyed each other from their space, only a little less than a meter between them.
Izuku went on the offensive, driving forward with a straight that Katsuki barely dodged before he got in low beneath Izuku's arms, wrapping himself around the boy's midsection and going for a grapple. The hold didn't work however, and Izuku broke free, but not before taking a punch to the cheek in the process.
He moved with the blow, bringing up his knee into Katsuki's own hastily turned body, only catching the boy's leg and narrowly dodging a wild swing from his left. A swing and a miss followed on each side of the exchange, Izuku bending his torso under the blow while Katsuki jumped backwards.
Distantly, Inko was aware of Toshinori's muttered encouragement, of the commentators' running blow by blow of the fight, of the gradually increasing appreciation of the crowd. All of that happened around her as she watched the bloody fistfight drag on, her boy clearly winning the exchange but taking many hits in the process. Each bloody strike tested her resolve, but for Izuku's sake, she held on.
Suddenly they were on the ground, Izuku straddling Katsuki's midsection even as he twisted up to try and throw him off. All that ended up doing was giving her boy an easier time striking Katsuki's kidneys repeatedly, but somehow under the assault Katsuki found his footing. With a roar she could hear up in the stands, the boy rose from the ground and flipped their position, pulling off a reversal that afforded him enough time to land three solid strikes on Izuku's face.
In a blur they had somehow separated again, once more on their feet, both faces now bloody and starting to swell. Izuku charged forward, a wild right followed by a left that Katsuki ducked under, only to find Izuku's knee rising to meet his face.
Izuku dodged the counter, darting backwards and ducking under Katsuki's driving left while bringing his own elbow up sharply into the boy's chin. And just like that, it was over. Katsuki crumpled as soon as his head snapped back, falling to the ground unconscious even as Izuku stepped back ready to keep going.
Midnight had dashed forward with her hands up, calling a halt and checking the boys pulse. After a moment she looked up and seemed to wink to Izuku before standing up with her hands on her hips and a wide grin on her face.
"Katsuki Bakugo is unconscious. Izuku Midoriya wins the match by knockout, and is the first place winner of the UA first year Sports Festival!"
Toshinori excused himself then, claiming that he wanted to get some pictures from the ground level. Inko let him go without a fuss, her heart so unbelievably full in that moment that she could barely stand it. Her baby had just done the impossible.
It was a while before they were ready. Bakugo recovered consciousness fairly quickly after the fight, but still had to be looked over by Recovery Girl while Snipe gave Izuku a post-match check. He had probably gotten some stress fractures on the metatarsals in his left foot while kicking Bakugo, but that would be confirmed after the award ceremony.
For the time being, his foot was wrapped tightly and he was ushered out of the room and into a long hallway, a significantly more bruised and battered Bakugo beside him. Halfway down they met Shishida, who had apparently been waiting since the end of their match as one of the third place winners. Todoroki was still recovering and would be receiving his medal later. That resolved one of Izuku's worries. The other one spoke up right as he thought that.
"Oi, shithead," murmured Bakugo as they neared the stage, three large platforms sitting flush with the ground in a dark room lined with pipes and machinery. "Get your glory while you can, cause we're switching spots next year." Izuku turned to see an almost peaceful look on his friend's face, but there was still the fire of determination beneath it.
"You're n-not mad?" Izuku asked, cursing the sudden reemergence of the stutter. Bakugo huffed out something approaching a laugh.
"Course I'm mad, Deku. I'm pissed I lost, but I ain't mad at you. Fuck, I woulda been mad if you'd a gone easy or some shit, or if you fucking conceded you dumb bastard," he gave a gentle punch on Izuku's arm to punctuate the statement, unfortunately landing on a bruise. "But we both gave it everything we could, which is more than I can say of fucking Icy Hot."
"Alright boys, up onto your platforms," droned Cementoss as he rounded the corner into the dark little room. "Show's about to start."
At their teacher's urging they each scrambled to their respective podiums, Izuku in the center with Bakugo to his right and Shishida on his left. Not even thirty seconds more passed before the ceiling above them groaned apart as the stage they were on rose from the ground and up, out into the stadium. The cheering was deafening as Midnight took her place before the rising pillars, lifting a single finger to the corner of her mouth and winking for the camera.
"Alright folks, it's time for the awards ceremony. In third place we have Jurota Shishida and Shoto Todoroki!" Shishida rumbled in pride at that, though he stood alone on his third place podium. This proclamation got a significant amount of cheering. "Unfortunately, Todoroki is still recovering from his match and is unable to accept his award in person. We hope you all understand." After saying so, Midnight gestured with one arm to Bakugo's podium.
"In second place, Katsuki Bakugo!" There was an appreciative roar from the crowd in response to this announcement, louder than the previous. Finally, Midnight turned towards Izuku's podium and threw up one arm.
"And in first place, Izuku Midoriya!" The cheer he received was only a little quieter than the others, and Izuku took some small victory in that. It was certainly better than what he had started the day with, after all. "Now, presenting the medals for the first year festival, it's our newest teacher! He's everyone's hero, give it up for All Might!"
Izuku smirked a bit as the distant figure he had spotted on the roof of the stadium jumped into a series of flips, and a high pitched whistling gradually grew louder until the missile of a man slammed into the ground with enough force to send out a shockwave. He landed on one knee and Izuku resisted the urge to roll his eyes. If anyone could afford to go for style-points, it was All Might. Rising from his crouch, the number one hero first approached Shishida as Midnight stepped up beside him with a velvet cushion on which sat the four medals.
"Young man, you demonstrated brilliant strength and passion, while also displaying a keen intellect in battle, truly impressive!" He took the medal from the cushion and placed it around the hairy boy's neck before pulling him into a hug. "Keep working on your versatility and mobility. You won't always be able to run through obstacles."
"Thank you, sir," said the boy, adjusting his glasses and grinning widely at the hero. "I will take every opportunity to learn and improve." All Might nodded to him and next moved over to Bakugo, retrieving the silver medal from the cushion.
"Young Bakugo, you demonstrated power, skill, and above all the determination to never give in, even when faced with a disadvantage." Izuku was surprised that his friend only looked contemplative as All Might lowered the medal over his bowed head. He couldn't help but grin at the awed smile that spread across his normally sour countenance as the number one hero pulled him into a hug. "You have the potential to be one of the greatest heroes, and it does me proud to see you wield your power for the sake of others. Hold onto that drive, and you will be greater than me someday."
"Just watch me, All Might," said Bakugo, his confident, cocky sneer back in place like normal. The hero simply flashed him a thumbs up before moving over to Izuku with the gold medal held gently in his large hands. Izuku's heart beat faster as the world's greatest hero, the man who had helped him almost as much as Mirio gently placed the ribbon over his bowed head and patted him on the shoulder.
"Young Midoriya. What else can I say except that you have announced your presence more loudly than I could ever have imagined. You have shown that there is weight behind your words and ideals, that every aspect of a hero is a tool that they can hone, and that not having a quirk is nothing that will hold one back from their dreams." Izuku felt his eyes burn and the tears fall as All Might pulled him into a hug and spoke to him personally, more quietly than he had for the others. "I can never apologize enough for having doubted you at first, young man. But everything you have done since has proven me wrong, time and time again. Like your friends, like Young Togata, I know that you will be greater than me in time. Thank you, Young Midoriya, for being who you are."
"A-All Might," Izuku managed through his tears. His hero squeezed him just a little bit tighter before he released him from the embrace, and Izuku had the opportunity to wipe his eyes. Bakugo laughed from his spot to his right.
"Damn nerd, you can't even be happy without bawling your eyes out."
"And now, with your winners here before you, I will ask you for one last round of applause. But first!" All Might turned, smiling his most reassuring grin and gesturing widely to the stands. "Everyone who competed today, every hero course, general education, management, and support department participant in these events has the potential to take one of these spots next time. Competition, encouragement, the joy of sport, all of these help us to push each other to be better and better, to climb higher and farther. Before you now are the next generation of heroes, each and every one of them, whether they become pros or not. With that in mind, let's have one last cheer, everyone together now. 3...2...1…"
The stadium shook with the force of the cheer that rose up, All Might's charisma combining with the enthusiasm of the crowd to generate a wave of noise that Present Mic would have been proud of.
"PLUS ULTRA!"
Izuku hobbled back to the temporary infirmary with Bakugo's help, their medals clinking merrily as they made their way down the hall. His foot had started to swell within the confines of his shoe, which meant the fractures were probably worse than they had feared. As they walked down the hallway they conversed, quietly.
"Hey Kacchan," began Izuku, quietly, wincing now with each step.
"What's up nerd?" Izuku was quiet for a moment as they continued along, looking at the bruised and bloodied boy whose shoulder he was leaning on. He remembered that day in the woods, Bakugo's fall, and his subsequent offer of help. How much pain that one misstep had caused them both. How much work Bakugo had put into mending things.
"I owe you an apology, Kacchan," said Izuku, looking down sadly.
"Already told you that so long as you fought me instead of pussying out we'd be good. Stop worrying about it, dumbass."
"That's not what I meant, Kacchan," came Izuku's quiet voice. Both stopped, and Bakugo helped him lean on the wall before looking at him over crossed arms. "I mean I'm sorry for when we were younger, too."
"The fuck, Deku? I didn't hit you that hard. You weren't the fucking asshole between us, shithead." Izuku gave a sad chuckle in response.
"Maybe not, but it was at least a bit my fault that things went the way they did, Kacchan." He looked up to see an unimpressed Bakugo waiting silently for him to continue. "Maybe it's not as much my fault as it is others', but I still owe you this because it wasn't just the teachers that failed you, Kacchan. You told me you didn't want to be around me, and I didn't listen. You told me you hated my notebooks and called them creepy, and I didn't listen to you then either. I got better about the books, and giving people their privacy, but still, I never left you alone."
"Doesn't mean it was okay to hurt you," Bakugo said through gritted teeth, not meeting Izuku's eyes.
"You didn't have to respond the way you did, but I didn't have to ignore what you were saying either. Maybe if I had you wouldn't have pushed back so hard, and things wouldn't have gotten so bad between us. It wasn't right to tell me to stop being a hero, but you wouldn't have heard me talk about it all the time if I hadn't always been chasing after you when you didn't want to be around me."
"So, I owe you an apology for that at least, so we can clear all the air that's left between us. After today, I don't want any more apologies unsaid, or misunderstandings, or resentment. I trust you Kacchan, and I hope you also feel like you can trust me, and that I'll listen to you when you tell me something." Bakugo exhaled through his nose and looked up towards the ceiling, his arms still crossed as he considered things.
"You're a fucking dumbass, nerd, but if it'll make you feel better, then fine. I forgive you too, for being a naive little shit and all the other stuff you feel guilty for. Now shut the fuck up about it already." Izuku jumped forward and caught him in another hug at that, one that Bakugo hesitantly returned.
"I'm glad, Kacchan." They separated, and Bakugo helped Izuku to sling an arm over his shoulder as they continued down the hall. Another few minutes of quiet, wobbly walking led them to Recovery Girl's door, and to Izuku lying on one of the infirmary beds while Snipe tended to his foot and Bakugo got another check over from the heroine herself.
From the back of his scrubs, the cowboy hero produced a matte black plastic cylinder with a blue light running along its length on one side, and a square opening running down the opposite. He held it over Izuku's foot for a moment as the blue light shot out and scanned down the swollen appendage before it began to buzz a moment later. From the back of the device an x-ray began to slide out like a polaroid, down to the way Snipe waved it in the air, which Izuku knew was more of a cultural artifact than it was actually helpful.
"Well shoot kid, tha's a break alright. Shouldna' had ya walk on it, damn," Snipe moaned, holding the x-ray out for Izuku to see. "Gonna have ta git ya a treatment from the lil lady. Sorry abou' that partner, but yer gonna be even more tired than ya already are." As he talked, Izuku gradually lost the sound of the man's voice to the sudden roaring that rose in his ears. As the pro continued to hold the film up Izuku's eyes were inexorably drawn to one small detail that much more pressing than his broken foot.
In the corner of the picture, totally unmistakable, were the pale outlines of the bones in his toes. Of particular note was the pinky toe and its joints. Or rather, joint. He had seen the outline of that particular feature of his only once before, at a doctor's office twelve years ago. Where once there had been two joints in the pinky in the picture, there was now only one. The truth of that and everything it meant made him nauseous.
He wasn't crazy. He hadn't imagined it. He used to have a quirk, and the records had been changed. After his panic attack, when the teachers had granted him the use of his prosthetics, and that's what they were now for certain, prosthetics, the implications of the supposed loophole they had offered him to exploit were undeniable. They had known the truth. The heroes had known the truth, and they had lied to him. Mirio had known the truth, and had kept it from him. A lie of omission was still a lie.
He was numb after that. When Recovery Girl healed his foot and he offered his thanks, he felt dead. When she saw the X-Ray that Snipe had taken and visibly paled before snatching it up when she thought he wasn't looking, he felt bitter. Later, he could barely remember when he left with Bakugo and the rest of his friends for the day, talking to them like nothing was wrong.
He was present, briefly, when his mother crushed him in an embrace that threatened to cut off all his air. But the feeling disappeared again when Mirio, Nejire, and Tamaki did the same, bounding out of the stands with their own collection of medals. He almost recoiled when Aizawa ruffled his hair and congratulated him before they all parted ways and headed home.
He was quiet when they had katsudon that evening. He felt better again when his mother told him how much she loved him, how proud she was. He was hurting terribly when he hugged her and cried and told her he loved her, because she was one of the only ones he could trust, but he didn't say that last part out loud. He was contemplative when Lynchpin offered his own congratulations back in the quiet of his room. He was almost angry when he received a message on his phone from Ochaco congratulating him, but not at her.
He was silent as he slipped out of his window once his mother had gone to bed that night, with a text sent to the few people he knew he could trust to listen to him and who would help him now, when the whole world was falling out from beneath him. He cried when he got to Dagobah Beach alone and waited for one of them to come. As he sat amongst the sand, he noticed that a few specks of trash had begun to wash up on the beach once more, and mutely moved to pick them up. He continued like that for ten minutes as he waited, moving from dune to dune as he gathered the detritus and threw it away. He was quiet the whole time, except for the occasional sniffle that was lost with the roll and crash of the waves on the once again spotless beach.