8.1
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Trust and verify.
- Location
- Philmont
After finally, finally wresting control of the documentation back from Kyoka and Momo, I, Arsenio de la Veracruz, may resume telling this story. Good thing too- I may now, with zero fanfare, cut out all the bullshit like the side events and the cheerleader bit. I should have never let Momo talk me into that bullshit. Never.
(You looked good in it though- YM)
Either way, onto the fighty bits.
////
Sitting down in my seat just forward enough so my tail didn't pinch, I pursed my lips and rested my face in my hands. The traditional Gendo Pose: an excellent way to hide your expression and thoughts. I didn't need the first bit, but the second was a handy signaling device to show that I wasn't terribly interested in talking right now.
"So. You and Jiro," Mina said from next to me, looking out over the field. "Not gonna lie, I was kinda rooting for Yayomomo, you know? She needs some good things."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," I replied flatly, as Tetsutetsu Squared walked onto the field, fists raised and slamming his metal appendages together to make sparks fly as he watched. Really? Showboating this early?
"Honey. Darling. Catfantastic. Please. You did not raise a flag, you raised the banners and came to relieve Minas Tirith."
As the gears in my brain screamed, I turned over and just raised an eyebrow at Mina. "You read Lord of the Rings?"
"I've read a lot of stuff, and it's pretty good for practicing more formal English. Certainly better than that refrigerator isekai fad that's going around right now."
"Tell me about it; I'm still on the Merchant Daughter's Children series," I muttered, before Shinso came out with a habitual slouch and one hand tucked into his belt. It was a lazy pose, but I recognized it instantly: it was a quickdraw slouch a lot of the family's gunslingers used. Perking up and forward, I watched as Midnight's flogger came down.
I couldn't hear the dialog between the two, but my mind could fill in the blanks well enough. Tetsutetsu with some gigantic, roaring boast; Shinso with a cutting reply. Tetsutetsu clapping his bicep with one hand before starting a buffalo charge, Shinso pulling his hands out and lazily moving into a judo stance. An inflammatory remark, a reply, and there it was. That was the set, as Shinso moved into a hip throw, mouth still moving to trigger the command his Quirk would move through. That iron-blooded idiot was down, even if he didn't know it yet. There was the pin, and he wasn't fighting nearly enough. If Tetsutetsu tried, he could have broken it: I'm sure of that. It wasn't that it was a sloppy pin, but Shinso wasn't that strong: I had constantly felt Kyoka repositioning her feet in the yoke back during the cavalry battle to account for his weak side.
"And that's match one!" Present Mic roared from the announcer's booth loud enough I couldn't tune him out anymore. "A bald-faced victory, a perfect score, and an amazing demonstration of why you can't take anyone lightly! Did that GenEd student even use his Quirk?"
"I won't say," Aizawa said with a dry cast to his voice, before chuckling. "But if he didn't, well, that would be an embarrassing showing. Heroes need to think before they act."
"I completely agree! Midnight, send out the next pair!"
"Naturally!" Midnight beamed from down on the arena floor. "Match three, remember to move to the bullpens: I want to get out of here before the cute heroes are all gone!"
As Deku left behind me, I kept up my thinking pose until Mina huffed off to go bother Kirishima. Soon enough, Bakugo of all people was next to me, with his phone in one hand. He was quiet, a faint caramel-like smell wafting off him as he occasionally dusted his hands with a small hacky sack that looked like it was covered in chalk.
It was hardly a minute later that Momo stared walking out onto the field- and this time, I couldn't hide from Present Mic's in-roll.
"Here we go, audience! A match of the ages: the President of 1-A, the Queen of Construction herself, Yaoyorozu Momo! In the other corner, the beloved Student Representative of Class 1-B, the elegant and refined Kendo Itsuka!"
Once again, I couldn't hear the dialog. Once again, I could still imagine it well enough: Momo making a light remark to move back and buy time, Kendo parrying it effortlessly. The flogger dropped, and Creation started to shine.
"We're in here with an aggressive opening here, folks! Does Kendo think she can match the General Education kid's coup of a Quirkless victory? No! Yayorozu is dodging, and she's got a good roll as she comes up with a shield! That'll stop a striking style, sure, but Kendo isn't just her namesake! You'll need to hit back in order to win this one, come on!"
That shield wasn't to absorb hits, Present Mic. That shield was to hide her eyes from the flashbangs her other arm was printing, and my grin grew feral as I covered my eyes as the Matroshkya dolls hit the ground.
"Whatever those were, Aizawa, I hope they're going to plan! Kendo's piling in, and it's not looking good! Yayorozu doesn't have too much room to retreat left!"
"Wheel, wheel, come on-!" I hissed, grabbing the rail. Momo couldn't develop any ability to angle the fight- Kendo was too good at using wide, roundhouse punches to force it into a linear engagment that was designed to drive Momo straight out of the ring. My friend knew it though- I couldn't call her anything else now, not when I was so unsure of her feelings- and was trying to come up with something, anything to turn the tide. Finally, she slammed out a bo staff, making a few good blows in- but it wasn't enough. Kendo's titanic hands let her stand back and avoid eating the body shots that would cause actual damage, and Momo wasn't agile enough to avoid those sweeping swipes.
"This isn't looking good for Yaoyorozu down there, Aizawa!" Mic yelled again. "She's out of options, her back's on the line- is there something she can do?"
A flash of blinding, pure light was the answer. "Yes!" I hissed, now that a flashbang had actually worked for once. "Come on, follow up-"
"Match over by ring out!" Midnight countered, as the retinal echoes faded away and I saw Kendo's fist outstretched. Momo had been punched over the line, no questions asked. That grenade had been too little, too late. Nothing could have stopped the hit, and even blind Kendo had been too much of a fighter to let things degrade. My respect for the redheaded fighter went up a notch, even as my feet found themselves rising up to make their way down to the ready rooms. Passing by Deku and Uraraka having a moment just outside, I just knocked on the door with confidence.
"Momo?" I asked, the couple being… I wasn't sure if it was pre-battle tension or what, but I'm pretty sure I was interrupting some kind of confession… encouraged to leave by my presence. "Can I come in?"
"Yeah."
Well, that was a disheartened mutter if I ever heard one. Opening the door slowly, I was very grateful to hear that the shower was firmly set in the 'off' position, and Momo was just sitting at the ready table in her pants and a clean sports bra. Bruises were forming on her upper arms, and a nasty one covered her left torso- if I looked carefully, I could see where one of Kendo's fingers had stopped and the next knuckle started. Coming in, I just sighed, getting a clean shirt in the largest size on the bin, draping it over her shoulders.
"Feel like shit yet?" I asked, making sure to put a bottle of Fizzy Sports Drink down in front of her, popping the lid with my claws effortlessly. "I know I always feel like death warmed over after a bad fight."
"That's one way to put it," she muttered. "I failed. Completely. Nothing worked when I needed it to!"
"That's what practice is for. The more you sweat, the less you bleed," I said, making sure her hand wrapped around the bottle to recognize it was there. The Verdant Blue flavor wasn't great, but some idiot had drank all the Happy Yellow and Nice Red flavored-ones, so Verdant Blue it was. "Come on, we need to clear out so Deku and Uraraka can use the room."
"I'm just…" Momo muttered, slowly trailing off as she put on the shirt and started drinking her Fizzy Sports Drink "...shellshocked. Yes. That works. Shellshocked is a good word for it."
"First big fight?" I asked carefully, making sure to stand next to her as she got out the door and headed back to the stands. It was about the time that we passed Deku and Uraraka that I realized Momo hadn't fixed her shirt yet, and worse, was holding my arm. How did I not notice that? Come on, brain, turn on! "I thought the Entrance Exam would let you work these sorts of shudders out in advance."
"The recommendation students got a different entrance exam," Momo explained as we got in the elevator up, with her still holding on to me. As much as I wanted the gorgeous girl to be all over me, this was going from 'nice' to 'what's the underlying damage' real damn fast, especially since she was pressing me to the more bruised side. Her left side, which put her on my right. Was it tying up my main hand, or was it covering her weak side? I didn't know.
When we got back to the stands, I tried not to scrape Momo off on Kyoka, but when my friend saw our collective romantic interest looking like she just dodged an isekai truck by the skin of her teeth, there was a certain reaction. As Kyoka accepted Momo, I just went back to my front-row seat next to Bakugo.
"Should go take care of your girl," he snorted.
"I've got to see how this goes down, first."
"Your funeral later."
Manly grunting finished, we settled back down as Deku and Shiozaki hit the field. More easily ignorable in-roll, and the fight was on.
I'll hand it to Deku: he was off like a shot, running in hell for leather as he wound up for a power swing. As that green lightning worked around his form, it almost connected right before a morass of vines started piling into him. Shiozaki was a plant manipulator, and her hair was her best plant: a long morass of spined vine that almost reminded me of a thorned version of poison ivy when it reached the point of becoming a rope. Every rose might have it's thorns, per Mic's color commentary, but these would shred Deku limb from limb if Shiozaki wasn't careful.
Still, getting wrapped up in the tentacles was clearly not his fetish, as he ripped and tore his way through, trying vainly to persevere in the face of what were clearly overwhelming odds. As Shiozaki laid in tentacle after tentacle- I mean, vine after vine!- in on him, Deku was running out of options. Her holds were getting more sophisticated, and even his lightning-enhanced strength wasn't going to be able to hold the line against getting a Shiozaki Shibari Special.
(we have ensured the dumb cat received his just reward for this terrible wordplay- JK)
"Dumb nerd better have a trick up his sleeve, he's getting his ass beat like a taiko at a festival," Bakugou muttered. "He might be about as smart as a rock, but he's tricksy enough to have something for this."
"He needs to stop thinking like he's fighting the vines and start fighting Shiozaki," I replied, squinting.
Just then, a thunderous blast of wind emerged from the ball of vines where Deku had been pigeonholed, and he somehow managed to rip his way free in the shock, charging in on Shiozaki. She tried to defend, but a high feint and a hook to the gut got the mistress of vines to drop her guard.
Presumably it was Uraraka who, at some point, managed to teach him how exactly to belt a girl across the jaw like that when Shiozaki was staggering away. That punch put her- and her vines- out like a light, and the green-haired young man stood up proud.
"And with an underdog victory, we have it! Midoriya Izuku wins his first round!" Present Mic roared, earning a derisive 'titch' from Bakugo.
"You're gonna have to unpack that for me," I said, leaning back in my seat and grabbing a can of Salutations Yellow Fizzy Sports Drink. Popping the tab, I sniffed, before drinking the substance and looking at Bakugo carefully. "I don't speak useless first person shooter protagonist here."
Bakugo's eye twitched, but he finally snorted. "The useless Deku's only got one fucking trick. Ever. He'll pick one up, run it till it breaks, and pick up another one. Now that I know what he's got? I'll kick his ass."
"What, the green lightning didn't suprise you?" I shot back.
"Fucker's Quirkless. Might be a trick of the eyes, might be whatever he's using to fake a Quirk."
I snorted. "I don't think he went up in the hills to find a brujo with a grudge, my dude. Considering the way y'all seem to teach Quirks, I figure he probably just had a sleeper Quirk."
"Maybe he did, maybe he's cheating with Support Equipment. I don't give a damn: he's trash, always has been, always will be. I'll put him back in his place soon enough."
"You want to go at it like that, dig two graves," I advised seriously. "First one's for your career, second one's for you when his friends decide to put your ass down."
"The fuck is wrong with your head, Veracruz, that you think they could take me?"
"Unless you turned your cheap ass bulletproof when I wasn't looking? The usual things," I said, standing up to leave. "I've seen it with tipo de emisión like you before- think you're the hottest shit in the world until you find something you can't blow your way out of. If Kirishima has half the brain in his head Mina thinks he does, he could put your ass down by himself- and if I had my kit, so could I."
That earned a laugh, loud and cocky. "You're full of shit, but you're probably not wrong. If a third-rate full-body mutation Quirk like you managed to beat the Entrance Exam, then there's a hell of a fighter under the hood. Let's see if you can be a proper Hero like me, then."
"The only thing proper about being a Hero like you is what flag they shove your casket under when they put you down."
Stalking off, my tail was lashing violently. That fucker. Quirk Discrimination, here, in this day and age? Really? Thank heavens I had a calmer temper than Abuelo, he'd have just decked the guy. Still, it was important to be the bigger man and walk away: starting a fight in the stands wouldn't be useful. We had plenty of opportunities to work that out in class, and if I was lucky even in this tournament.
When I was cooled down after taking a leak and three more Fizzy Sports Drinks, Uraraka was nearly finished bouncing Tsunatori over the arena like a ping-pong ball. Zero-G disorientation was hitting that girl like a truck, and Uraraka had already puked twice in her quest to inflict maximum violence in minimum time. As a projectile horn whizzed off on a loopy and limpid trajectory, the pink gravity witch finished things off with a total cancelation, slamming herself into the ground inside the ring- and Tsunatori outside it.
Fortunately, Bakugo had already dipped to hit up the ready room, and Momo damn near threw me into Kyoka, who was pre-emptively shivering. Wrapping an arm around her, and then accepting Momo latching onto my other side, I tried to figure out when I'd been nominated Class Teddy Bear, before giving up. It wasn't weird, but this was, well, Japan. Back home, if the wind was blowing down off the mountain I'd be the center of attention like this as we huddled together like penguins, but right now it was a balmy twenty-four out and we were in indirect sun. Shrugging internally, I watched the next match with some pro-forma interest.
The problem was, whoever the fuck Shishida was, he was a beastman with no real art. Hulk Smash was not a winning strategy in our career, and this kid had to be hiding something under the fur. Bakugo knew it too: his dodges were small, barely moving out of the way, using as little explosive force as he was able. Someone would have to pull out a trump card soon- and Shishida snapped first.
Backing up and roaring, the Class 1-B student lunged forward, transforming from a large, harry fellow into a titanic beast. Now damn near four times the size of Bakugo, the blonde bombardier just had the grace to smirk, before letting off a pair of detonations from his hands. Whatever that check had told him, he liked- just in time to cartwheel back from an inbound swipe, and holy shit.
That wasn't a cartwheel, that was a launch maneuver- and Bakugo was now flying in, thrusting himself forward with one hand while the other delivered a brutal bitch slap to Shishida. It didn't look like much aside from a palm slap, but I was preemptively wincing as the blast went off. Fur was scoured away in the shape of the handprint, and another double-fisted upwards push got Bakugo over the larger student. It was a horrifying display of rocket-assisted acrobatics, letting him land on Shishida's back. Anyone who'd played a video game knew what happened next.
Down below, I could almost hear Bakugo's triumphant scream as he raised his hands up high, the glow of a fire, a heat, a moment just before explosion starting to emanate from them as he raised them up high. "Flying Style!" he let the world know, at the top of his lungs. "Twilight! Of The! Thunder! GOD!"
Then the blow landed, and it was a flash of heat so bright my second eyelids shut for a moment, before letting me see what happened. I still don't know how he managed to turbocharge a double handed ax strike, but when it hit it hit hard enough to break Shinshida's stance, before transitioning into a manuvere to blast Bakugo free of the mount, now behind the vulnerable, stunned student.
Then, magic happened- Midnight's whip cracked. "We are calling the match in Bakugo Katsuki's favor!" she roared. "Recovery Girl is presenting a need to examine after that last blow, and he's clearly demonstrated superiority! Shishida Jurota, thank you for your participation, but we need you to clear the field and head to Medical!"
"I'm still fine to fight," the beast-man said, snarling. "Hell, I'm not even warmed up yet!"
"And you're also salty they had to tell me to stop styling on your dumb ass," Bakugo said, smirking into the camera-and-mic drones that had long since started to hover over the mess. "Take the L, furball. At least our class' knows how to talk smack."
"Why I aughta-"
At that, Midnight shook her head, and pulled her gloves off. As Bakugo stepped back and let off a small explosion to get the air moving around him, Shishida hit the mat in time for the medical bots to bring up an elephant-sized stretcher.
That didn't matter, though, because next to me Kyoka started shivering again, and I remembered the chart from earlier. Whispering to me and Momo, she gulped.
"I'm next."
(AN: Kept y'all waiting a hot minute, didn't I?)
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