"I want you to be awake to remember this."
You wake up in the infirmary, exhausted beyond belief.
Ironically enough, it is you who cannot remember more than a few fuzzy details from the past… hour or so…? It feels like your brain is being tossed across a minefield whenever you think too hard or try to recall what happened in your last match. The memories are all in watery snippets; the deafening roar of the crowd, explosions and curling tendrils of smoke, the rapid fire exchanging of harsh words and even harsher blows. Agh, it hurts to recall.
Sore and achy all over, you groan as you sit up in the infirmary cot. Bandages wrap around your hands, and a compression brace binds your dominant forearm. Your leather gloves sit waiting on a nearby table. A deep yawn, the kind that makes your toes flex, pulls from deep within you.
"Ah, you're awake," Recovery Girl chirps from behind her clipboard. "You're fully healed now, so I don't even feel remotely bad for doing this." She punctuates her statement with a swift smack of her cane to your ankle.
"OW!!" You cry out in pain and shock. "What the—?! You really oughta work on your bedside manner, Miss!"
"Don't you lecture me!" Recovery Girl scolds, waving her cane in a threatening manner that effectively shuts you up. "You should've came to me much sooner for healing!! Your body was on the verge of overheating after your last battle. There was also some minor muscle tearing that required extra surgical smooches. You pushed yourself too far! I hope that little accident prone friend of yours isn't proving to be a bad influence."
You sigh and look out the window at even the vaguest mention of Midoriya, all of the fight leaving your body. The more that you are able to remember, the more your actions seem so foreign to your usual behavior. It's almost unbelievable. But I suppose you've always been able to achieve great, yet truly terrible things with your quirk.
Thinking about the way you reveled in being the cause of Bakugou's fear, how you delighted in his pain. How quickly you were able to justify being a bully's bully, a tormentor's tormentor. Not very heroic…
It actually makes perfect sense why the cute nerd avoided you today. Midoriya was a bright light, but you carried a smothering darkness with you wherever you went.
Him, a bad influence?
"It's probably the other way around," you mutter quietly.
Aizawa then enters the infirmary suddenly, making a beeline straight for your cot. You quickly close your eyes and begin to snooze, but your homeroom teacher's eyes flash a dangerous shade of red, ejecting you from slumber with his quirk. The sensation is equivalent to dumping ice cold water on your sleeping head.
"I really hate when you do that," you groan.
"Kid, you have a lot of nerve," Aizawa grunts. "What's this I hear about you not seeking proper treatment during the tournament? Injuries don't just disappear on their own, you know. Pushing passed your limits is one thing, but your actions today were reckless and foolish—"
"Recovery Girl already let me have it, okay? No need to waste your energy." Your voice comes out tired and apathetic.
You think about all the interactions with the other students you've had today, your rivals, the ones who you thought were so strong and confident and had it all figured out. Seeing their fears flashing through your mind's eye revealed the truth that they kept hidden. In reality, everyone else was just as insecure and unsure of themselves as you— they were just better at disguising it. Your heart breaks for all of them.
Now that it's out of your system, you realize that pain and rage you'd felt weighing you down was not your own. It was Hagakure's, or at least whatever you absorbed from her nightmare. There's still so much you don't understand about your quirk, but could it be possible that it affected your mood, your very mental state? All that declaring war bullshit wasn't your style, especially not over some stupid spectator sports fest. You feel so foolish. And so damn tired.
"Sorry for disappointing you again, sensei," you sniffle.
Your words take the wind out of his sails, and your teacher sighs. He came in here to scold and berate you, but you're already beating yourself up enough as it is. Aizawa takes a step back while you quietly sob.
As his pupil, your safety and well-being is his top priority. When he heard that you'd been neglecting your recovery (from snitching ass Iida of course), Aizawa immediately knew it had to do with your quirk's side effects along with those from Recovery Girl's healing. To say that he had been worried would be selling it short. But still, you fought through your injuries because you were tenacious— even to your own detriment at times, just like another problem child of his.
Your professor sighs again in obvious discomfort. "Ugh. Come on now… Don't cry?" He soothes awkwardly before trying a different approach. "Listen, kid, you did well. You even made it in the Top Three."
To his surprise, you cry even harder and whine, "That's such a mean joke, even for you, sensei! So mean!!"
Aizawa's eyes widen and his jaw falls open. What's wrong with you? ? "It's not a joke! See for yourself— and quit sniveling..!" He reaches into his shirt and pulls out a sheet of paper, rolling it up and swatting you lightly on the head with it.
First Recovery Girl and now Aizawa— what horrible, abusive staff!
You pout and unfurl the paper, scanning over it with tearful eyes. It reads the names of the first year finalists. First is, as expected, Bakugou Katsuki, second place is Todoroki Shouto, and in third… is your name. The print is clearly legible, but you still find yourself rereading it at least three times over.
"N-No way," you breathe in disbelief.
"I know that I'm hard on you," Aizawa mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. "But you're even harder on yourself. Work on being kinder to all parts of you… quirk included."
Speaking of which, what was that back there? He's never seen you do anything like that in class. But before he can ask more about your quirk, and before you can really meditate on his sage advice, the infirmary door bursts open again.
Your lovable idiot friends surround you in an instant, fretting over your condition, praising your battle, and overall just smothering you with their affections. Aizawa smiles softly at the display and decides to save his quirk related questions for another day, leaving you in their loving care. As he takes his leave, Midoriya enters with slow, timid steps, raking his bright green eyes over your form.
You look so tired and sleepy, more so than you have in weeks. Bandages crisscross up your arms. (Somehow still insanely cute, which makes him feel really weird and almost creepy since you've been injured?) Your pretty, droopy eyes are all red and puffy like you've been crying. Midoriya's huge heart aches in his chest.
Hagakure notices him first, and she quickly comes up with an excuse to make her exit with Koda, who also silently gets the memo. However Sato is still doting on you, fluffing your pillows and asking for the hundredth time if you need anything. Over the shoulder of your sugar-loving friend's large frame, you finally take note of Midoriya's quiet and observant presence.
"Rikkido-kun, will you bring me a cup of coffee?" You bat your sleepy lashes at him. "You always make it nice and sweet."
The big guy dashes off immediately, saying he'll buy you some macarons too, mumbling to himself about complimentary flavors. You smile fondly as you watch him go, but the entirety of the short interaction makes Midoriya clench his fist and tick his jaw.
He should be the one by your bedside, praising you and comforting you and making sure you have everything you could possibly want or need. The first name familiarity and the endearing honorific and the way you smile at someone other than himself— it all drives Midoriya to the brink of insanity! He hates the icky, ugly, nasty way it makes him feel inside.
Especially when your smile falls when you finally lock eyes with him, for the first time all day. Even when you're frowning, you still manage to steal the breath from his lungs.
Is this what it takes to get him to look you in the eyes? Getting Baku-blasted straight to the infirmary? Is it crazy that you would so easily consider doing it all over again? If it means Midoriya will continue to look at you with that soft and glassy expression, you might do just about anything.
"Guess you were right," you huff with a shrug. "I couldn't beat him. Not yet anyway."
"It was still an amazing battle," Midoriya tells you, inching closer. "All of your fights were— I watched every single one! Seriously, you went up against some of the most well rounded guys in our class, and you held your own. No, more than that!" His eyes glitter like emeralds as he continues passionately. "You made Kirishima look like a dumb jock, and I've never seen Tokoyami lose his composure like that. Don't even get me started on the match between you and Kacchan! He was firing off explosions so fast, and you… y-you used my move to counter and flip him over with a huge slam!" He gestures wildly with his hands, wincing a little when he moves his injured arm too much.
So unbelievably… cute and dorky~!
You cover your face with your hands to hide your flustered expression from his unabashed praise. You've only seen Midoriya gush this much about his beloved idol All Might, so you can't help but feel a little giddy and lightheaded. There's a fluttery feeling building up in your tummy. Admit it, you're a total simp!
Get a hold of yourself! There's no way you can be this down bad for a complete nerd.
You fist the thin infirmary sheets to ground yourself. "Honestly, it's all thanks to you. I wouldn't have made it so far in the tournament without all your help training." Your gaze flits down to his bandaged hands, his scarred fingers. "Hopefully… I didn't hold you back."
"No way," Midoriya says firmly, taking a few steps closer. You can clearly see the bright light in his eyes now and the shape of each freckle. "That's crazy, All Might said the same thing… he said that you were a distraction."
A tiny piece of you shrivels up and dies then. The Number One hero, the Symbol of Peace thought that you were holding his precious protégé back— so then it must be the case! If he hadn't been spending so much time with you, maybe Midoriya would have already mastered One For All. Maybe then he wouldn't have to break his bones and scar his skin.
"But that couldn't be anything further from the truth," Midoriya declares. "I know it for sure after watching you fight so hard. You make me want to be better, stronger." His sincerity stuns you completely silent, so the boy continues to ramble. "All Might made me promise to stay away from you today, but I-I hated it, every second. I really don't want to do that again."
Your heart races wildly in your chest. This is sounding dangerously close to a confession. To go from completely avoiding your gaze to him staring you deeply in your eyes like he's seeing right into the depths of your soul is far too drastic of a change! Midoriya's sudden intensity is utterly spellbinding, and if you're not careful then you'll surely fall even harder for those beautiful, bottomless pools of jade. Perhaps you should give him an out, just in case you're misinterpreting the young man's earnest nature.
"Midoriya—"
He shakes his head, dark green curls bouncing with the movement. "Izuku, please. Call me Izuku." With a bright blush, he places his hand on the cot, slowly sliding it close to where your own bandaged hand rests. "I-I really want to hear you say it."
Well, that doesn't leave much up to misinterpretation. And here you had thought that your little crush was fizzling out, meanwhile Midoriya has been gathering logs and kindling to throw onto the raging fire between you both. For all that you are dirty jokes and lewd innuendos, it is the sweet purity and innocence of him that reduces you to putty. Forget being down bad— you're down tremendous for this adorable dweeb!
Wordlessly, you stand up from the cot, and Midoriya watches your slow sluggish movements with bated breath, just in case you're in need of assistance. It still catches him by surprise when you throw your arms around him in a hug. He completely freezes up, despite how much he's daydreamed about this very moment. His skin alights with heat at the feel of your soft body slotted against his and your sweet scent wafting over him.
"Ya know, girls don't really like the silent treatment, Izuku," you whisper in his ear, and he shudders at the sound of his name coming from your lips for the first time.
He giggles breathlessly and tentatively wraps his arms around you, being careful of your bandages and exposed skin as he reciprocates the hug. "I'm sorry. I don't really know too much about girls, but… I'm learning."
His refreshing honesty makes you laugh. It's nice to know that you don't have to use your quirk to figure out what's on the boy's mind.
Once again the infirmary door slams open, and Izuku pouts cutely as you pull apart from him to see who has walked in this time. It's Bakugou, treading heavily in your direction with a fiendish scowl and a bandaged hand. A dull pressure forms behind your eyes as the recent blacked out memories surge forward from your subconscious, making you wince.
The rush of energy and power that came from allowing Hagakure's nightmare to finally let loose. The way the cement floor buckled under the weight of your strength as you flipped the blond over your shoulder. The sizable crater Bakugou laid in as you stomped on his hand mercilessly, just to hear him cry out in pain, just to smell his potent fear. You had wanted Bakugou to feel small, just like he made Midoriya and so many others feel.
You position yourself in front of Izuku protectively, but Bakugou is focused solely on you as he approaches. You tilt your chin up to look him in the eyes.
"Oi, oi, it's Mr. First Place," you try for a joke, but Bakugou's scowl hardens even further.
"What the fuck was that back in the arena, poofy hair?" Bakugou snarls, shoving you back roughly into Midoriya.
The green haired young man catches you easily, unsure if he should be furious at Bakugou for putting his hands on you or thanking him for sending you back into his arms. Izuku settles on a stern glare. "She's still in bandages, Kacchan."
"Stay out of this, damn nerd," Bakugou grunts, never taking his eyes off of you. "Answer me, brat! Ain't no way your underachievin' ass has been holdin' back that kinda power this whole time."
Midoriya sweats as the tension between you two builds. He looks to Recovery Girl for help, but the little old lady is sat at her desk pointedly ignoring the commotion. Now all of a sudden she wants to play up the pacifist healer role?!
Bakugou grips the front of your gym shirt in his fist and lifts you a few inches off the ground, disregarding Izuku's cries of protest. You feel explosions going off in your brain, and your eyes squeeze shut as the memory of your fight comes rushing back entirely.
You remember now. The match was brutal. Perhaps that's why your subconscious was trying to keep the details locked up tight in a vault, where all the stuff you can't handle goes.
Bakugou was a relentless opponent. He had blasted you over and over again, but you kept getting back up. As soon as you set Hagakure's nightmare free, you were acting on base instincts and desires only, moving with heightened speed and strength. Dark, misty smoke leaked from the pores of your warm skin, making your hair float and defy gravity. It served you well to grapple and throw and wrestle your opponent to the floor. The sudden burst of energy didn't last long, but in the short time allotted you and your opponent had destroyed much of the arena. Like a wild bull, Bakugou was still bucking and fighting back fiercely even as you had him pinned down to the floor in a huge crater.
"Pretty boys like you really make me sick," you'd spat. "Thinking you're so tough by picking on the weak and helpless. Always punching down to feel strong."
Bakugou had tried to pry his hand free to blast you, but you just twisted his wrist and let the explosion go off nearby, ignoring the ringing in your ears and the stars dancing in the corners of your vision.
"But girls like me? Who were born on the bottom?" You'd laughed bitterly in his face. "We're always punching up."
You had wanted to hear him cry and beg for forgiveness, you had wanted to inhale the sweet scent of his fear. So you peeled a glove off with your teeth and gripped his jaw in your bare hand. The familiar prickle of your quirk activating made your skin burn even hotter. Bakugou's panicked breaths sped up until he abruptly fell asleep. You were instantly sucked into his dream.
There was a raging fire, and the thick smell of smoke invaded your senses. You were greeted by the unmistakable sight of the Sludge Villain trying to consume Bakugou, just as it had tried to do to Midoriya. It tried to get him too?
But you were not there, All Might was not there; it was Izuku rushing in without a second thought to save his childhood best friend/bully's life. Then Bakugou screamed bloody murder, and your brain felt like it was being nuked as you were forcibly ejected from his nightmare when the ash blond woke up, still hollering.
Bakugou blasted you away from him without any hesitation. You scrambled to your feet to face him once more as he charged, roaring… and teary eyed. But you were way past your limit and collapsed, curled up snoring softly before the two of you could even come to blows again. Midnight waved her flail to signal the end of the match.
Bakugou had won, because he was the fucking best — but the crowd was cheering your name in admiration. And here you are, wearing that same stupid fucking smug smile now that you did then. Mocking him even in your sleep dammit!
Usually you felt a connection, or at the very least a better understanding about a person after using your quirk on them. Seeing someone's hopes, desires, and/or fears tended to have that effect. But Bakugou was an enigma; a confusing and complex individual that you still couldn't quite figure out. The blond made your head hurt in more ways than one.
His worst fear… was Midoriya extending a helping hand?
You didn't understand a goddamn thing. That's what Bakugou was thinking anyway. It didn't make sense. How could his whole worldview flip on its end like this? First, shitty quirkless Deku surprises him by getting into UA with a powerful quirk— even going so far as to beat him in the Battle Trial and gaining the respect of their mutual hero All Might.
Now he has to deal with you, Twenty , someone he never would've even remotely considered a threat. Usually you were passive and chill, non-confrontational— he liked picking at you because you usually had something smart to say back. But it was like you were a completely different person when he faced you in the arena. You didn't want to end the match quickly or put him to sleep— you had wanted to fight him, to really duke it out. You'd matched his crazy intense energy and then some.
But he still fought through your shitty quirk, overpowered its effects and beat it into submission, because he's the fucking best! Yet deep down, Bakugou knows that if you hadn't kept your gloves on for most of the match… you might've actually won. Not only does it hurt his pride, it scares the crap out of him. To almost be bested by you, shitty little Twenty— the one who placed last in the quirk assessment test?! How could he be losing his lead like this, how could you be closing the gap between the best and the worst so quickly? He's falling behind dammit, and he won't stand for it!
"Between you and that icy hot bastard, my first place win is tainted!" Bakugou snaps. "It don't mean shit to me! I want a rematch!"
"Look, we can wrestle whenever you want," you purr, shrugging your shoulders, still suspended in his grip. "I really don't mind that you like to play rough, Kacchan."
You wonder if he can read between the lines. If he knows what you really mean to say is thank you. Thank you for not pulling your punches, thank you for fighting me with everything you've got. Even if he says his win is meaningless, you hope he can see that this loss means everything to you in the best possible way.
(He cannot.)
"Dumbass!" Bakugou releases you unceremoniously, turning his back on you. "Don't call me that!"
"Eh?" You tilt your head to the side curiously. "Is Mido the only one allowed to call you Kacchan?"
"Ye— No! Deku, you better keep your damn mouth shut too! And you," Bakugou glares at you over his shoulder. "Just— stay out of my fuckin' head."
He storms out, leaving you puzzled. Could it be that he knew you looked into his mind, nosedived into his subconscious? No one had ever shown hints of detecting your presence in their dreams, but no one had ever kicked you out like Bakugou had as well... Maybe that's why your brain felt like bubbling lava soup.
"I'm sorry about Kacchan," Izuku sighs in disappointment. "Are you okay? He didn't hurt you, did he?"
"Don't worry," you reply with a yawn. "As long as he's focused on me, he can't mess with you, right?" You rub your tired eyes. "Bro just needs a punching bag to take his frustrations out on. But I've got your back, Izuku! I wanna be the only one making fun of you… Your fly is open by the way."
"Oh no… w-wha?" Izuku turns bright red as he looks down, zipping himself up in a show of blatant embarrassment. "Why are you even looking?" He pouts.
"It was looking at meeee, I swear!" You laugh and cover your eyes. "All Might undies, really?"
"They're for good luck!" He whines.
***
The closing ceremony is a boisterous affair; celebratory trumpets and confetti and of course the excited cheers from the audience. You stand upon the third place podium with pride. No matter what anyone says, you achieved this feat. You came to the Sports Fest and accomplished everything that you set out to do:
Make a name for yourself.
Differentiate from the pack.
Give it your all.
And it feels damn good to finally be recognized for all your hard work. You won't let anyone dampen your spirits any longer.
Big, hulking, grinning All Might steps into view holding a bronze medal as he announces your name. "Well done! Third place is nothing to sneeze at, especially in your first year. You've set the bar high!"
"I'm just glad that I could be more than a distraction, sir," you say as he places the bronze medal around your neck.
All Might jolts as you level him with a cool stare before he heaves a guilty sigh and places a heavy hand on your shoulder. He doesn't have much time. Even now he's struggling to maintain his muscled form. But he has to say something, otherwise these emotional wounds will fester and rot. He's already failing Bakugou— the young man is fully restrained and muzzled, yet you can still clearly see him trembling with fury on his first place podium.
"You have always been more than that, and I apologize for saying otherwise," All Might bows his head. "There's no doubt in my mind that you'll be a fine hero someday. Remember that it is not just the strength of your fists, but also the strength of your heart that really counts."
Your sleepy eyes widen. This may be the first time an adult has ever apologized to you. It's kinda lit. The Number One hero… is really a decent guy after all. He even gives you a congratulatory hug! His massive muscles feel amazing!
"Thank you, All Might-sensei!" You beam, shining brighter than your gleaming bronze medal.
A floating camera orb swoops in to capture your expression. You wonder if there's a little lonely girl somewhere out there watching you, being inspired to chase her dreams too. That would be dope. You fought so hard today for yourself, but you won this medal for her and every other girl out there.
***
After a nice shower, you change back into casual clothing in the frosh girls' locker room.
As you are retrieving your things from the locker, your phone buzzes with missed notifications. A wave of anxiety washes over you at the contact name onscreen. This man hasn't contacted you once since moving out and now of all times…? You put the phone to your ear and listen to a recent voicemail from your father.
"…Why didn't you tell me that you'd be on TV?" Your dad's gravelly voice cuts through the static. "I would've… I could've… Doesn't really matter now, does it? Anyway, I caught the end of it… Third place, huh? That's… not bad, kiddo. Your mama… she woulda been real proud to see you up there… Hell, even I'm—" There's a beep at the tone as the voicemail ends prematurely.
You slide down the lockers onto the floor, sobbing and clutching the phone. Jiro hears you first and rushes to your side in concern. The other girls comfort you until your tears subside, but no one is able to get you to articulate what caused you to break down so suddenly.