I'm home, I realize from the familiar scent of oranges in my room.
My body looks like the fight never happened. Like I didn't hold back that creepy nomu puppet thing. Like I didn't take the burnt from one of All Might's punches. Almost feels like that too; my tired limbs are the only proof of such a miraculous feat.
Two minutes pass. I clutch my sheets to regain my footing in my room.
I hear Dad enter quietly, holding a small tray with a bowl of soup, a glass of water, and a bottle of medications placed on it.
My Dad, Shoutarou Yamamoto, is a burly man with black spiky hair and bright copper eyes that shine with a metallic luster, crow's feet framing the corner of them which are only highlighted when he flashes his contagious smile. He's a happy man. Despite losing Mom when I was only five years old. The only time his brows would crinkle with worry and sorrow are the days he reminisces about her or when I'm sick.
And right now I'm more than just sick.
He places the tray on my bedside table, flicking the light on, watching as I slowly adjust to the bright intrusion prickling my eyes.
When I look up at him, a reassuring smile because I know how worried he must feel, he dives in for a bear hug, nearly squeezing the life out of me.
"You lil reckless kid." He breathes, petting my head like he does when I need comfort after a nightmare. "You don't go and fight battles like a hero when you barely just started. You scared the living hell out of me."
I squeeze his middle, burying my face in his shoulder. "I'm okay Dad. At least now I have bragging rights that I survived a punch from All Might." I chuckle nervously.
He tears himself from the embrace, boring into my eyes, trying to see if I was just pulling the old man's leg. He beams a proud smile when he realizes I was, in fact, not kidding. He still thinks I over exaggerate things as I did as a kid. I need to have a talk with him about it, later.
"You're growing to be more of a knight than a lil princess."
I playfully hit his arm. He always called me princess to make me embarrassed.
"Daaad I'll always be your princess." I whine with a small pout.
He chuckles. "Stop growing already." Ruffling her hair, he gets up and gestures to my food. "Your dinner."
I can't help but smile from his affection. It's rare for him to show so much in the span of a handful of minutes.
"Thanks Dad."
"You're welcome, get some rest." He says, leaving the room to let me heal.
I grab my phone, which was resting beside the tray, when I hear him reach the bottom of the stairs. When the light of the screen flickers, I'm greeted by hundreds of notifications. Mostly all texts from the class 1A group chat and a lot of personal messages from my fellow classmates, all wishing her a speedy recovery and asking about my health.
The only person who isn't amongst all the notifications is the one person my mind wanders to. We really need to talk.
It's not everyday you dream of a mystery man who resembles your classmate. And from how his eyes widened when I called him Kousuke, I just know.
I know he's seen me in his dreams too.
***
Katsuki
I throw the sticky ball towards the ceiling, waiting for the friction of the shitty ball to break free and fall towards me.
I can't help but rewind the events that happened today.
The shitty villians attacking USJ is one thing. Witnessing All Might's brute strength only solidifies my passion to become a better hero than the number one. Become the best hero.
But, it isn't those events that are what have me most frustrated. Most shocked . Tangerine. Carrot Head.
Ayumi Yamamoto.
Or as I remember her as in my dreams: Ayane.
Aya for short.
I recall the way my vision faltered and replaced USJ's moments with the overlapping ones in my dreams.
Her curtsy made me relive the castle. Made me remember another name too. Kirigaya. (Whoever that is, doesn't matter to me).
The way her face contorted into one of pain. The way her breath hitched as she whispered that name.
Kou.
The nickname Aya calls me in my dreams. Short for Kousuke.
I honestly thought I was going insane when she said that name. And the way her eyes widened when I said hers made me sure of one thing.
She knows of Kou and she lives as Aya in her dreams too.
The ball finally falls from the ceiling, and I catch it in my hand. I throw it again, dragging a hand down my face in annoyance.
I hate this.
Hate that the dreams are more than just a fantasy I made up in my head. Hate that she reminds me of some extra who dies in my dreams, in my arms, and that every time I see it, I cry as though my heart tears apart from just seeing her die again and again.
I hate that her eyes are just as beautiful as they are in my dreams, hate that her freckles are just as scattered and kissable as they have always been.
I hate it all.
We really need to talk about this shit show. To let her know that this, whatever this is, won't change a
thing between me and her.
After all, she's an annoying little shit. Just a stepping stone to being number one.
So what if she looks like an imaginary girl from my dreams? So what if she knows the name of my dream persona?
I won't let this coincidence get in the way of becoming number one.
Never.
Art by me (@luvbubbah) (○` 3′○)
***
Chapter End Notes
Art by me (@luvbubbah) (○` 3′○)
Setting of the fantasy AU which we'll start seeing next chapter! (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:·゚✧
Please do not repost without permission, thank you <3
A bare-chested man is in view. A fine looking man that is. He has broad shoulders tapering to an absurdly slim waist, and the muscles bulge as he stands tall and proud.
He wears a large, baggy pair of trousers that has metal coverings on his knees meant for battle. His arms are riddled with a few tribal tattoos, mostly on his upper arms. Toothed necklaces sit in layers on his chiseled chest, the colors varying yet in a symphony with one another. A dark crimson cape drapes behind him, matching with the largest necklace of ruby teeth, and the white fur cuffing his neck makes him look more ethereal.
His hair is wild, matching the fur and the cape torn at the edges. And from the golden locks spiking in every direction, shiny toothed red earrings peek through them.
My line of sight finally meets his eyes, and I finally realize why he wears ruby red all around.
They all compliment his eyes, yet none of his accessories can compare. They are fires, burning and bright, ever consuming. There is rage within them but also a demand of respect. The most prominent thing I can unravel is the mesmerizing passion deep inside. A passion colored rouge.
He glares, and the violence is apparent in his jaw, in his clenched fists too. It's so very intense I could never wish to be on the receiving end of it on a battlefield. To accompany it, a menacing scowl is painted on his features.
However it doesn't last. Because, in stunning speed, his eyes soften, dimming from the fire into embers of warmth.
He's observing my appearance I realize. And from the pitiful state I'm in, it's no secret the softness is nothing short of pity.
"I'm no kind fellow!" He barks suddenly, his voice deep and raspy it makes me wince from the first shout. "How did you land your sorry ass in this 'trap'?" His eyes glint in sadistic mischief as he taunts my appearance.
"I fell in. What else would you have assumed, you vulgar man?" I spit at him. Of course I'm aware this isn't the best course of action, but I don't care for the disrespectful barbarian I'm forced to be acquainted with. "And who would dig a bear pit in the middle of winter? They are in hibernation at this time."
He frowns, seemingly unphased by my insult. Perhaps he isn't bright enough to understand what I said. With his range of vocabulary I wouldn't be surprised.
"This is not a bear pit, you peasant." Ah, he did catch on, "It's a wolf's trap." He explains, his hand reaching for something in his sack. "Those beasts are rampant in these woods and are placed to trap them off the main road." He squints at me again, eyeing my hands and my satchel. "And what is a fair maiden such as yourself running off road with nothing but a sack? You a thief?"
Anger plumes within my lungs, smoke muddling my rational from his obscenity. "I am nothing of the sort. I am running from my home as I am betrothed to a monster I wish nothing to do with." I confess, my eyes burning from the fear of uncertainty of my future.
His eyes widen at that, pity swirls within them once again. Crouching down, he reaches out his calloused hand forward. "Well then, your hand." He commands, his scowl still apparent, but the rage is doused to nothing.
I reach out, a gust of wind pulling out shivers from my bones again. His hand is soothingly heated, relieving the ice within my fingers. In a single pull of his strength, he brings me up to his side, his warmth now scalding as he keeps my stance steady by curling an arm around my waist.
"You are dangerously cold." He whispers, his breath sweltering. It's extremely shocking to feel such heat from an exposed man. Truly is. And, I can't help but to instinctively tilt into him. The warmth is too inviting.
Regardless of his assistance, I huff, piqued by his difference in our way of life. "One would be when succumbed to this fatal weather for hours on end."
Hastily, he pulls out a horn from his sack and heaves a breath into it. A loud hoot echoes in the forest, snow collapsing off the trees nearby and birds flocking away.
Then a shadow is above us, and crimson glides from the sky, landing beside us.
The wind from its wings would've made me shiver, but the shock of seeing such a beast so close knocked the air out of my husk of a body.
The monster, crimson scaled and large enough to cover an entire castle tower, is a dragon. Then my gaze latches onto the gold saddle laying on its shiny back.
Not a dragon, I realize. It's the dragon.
My heart refuses to replenish my breath as it races and beats against my chest.
Words fail me, and I can't squeak out a single syllable. The chances I'd bump into this man of all persons of life.
"You're The Barbaric King Kousuke Bakugan." I finally breathe in disbelief, my limbs shaking involuntarily.
He smirks, the expression unfairly handsome. Unfairly non-murderous; the exact contrast of what the world claims him to be. "In the flesh. And what do people call you?"
"Ayane Ishiyama." I reply in a beat.
He can't know who I truly am. Not now, not ever.
It is the only way I can remain safe. The only way I can remain living.
"You're from the Haniyasu Kingdom." He notes, his eyes luring me in more. His power is more compelling, more terrifying with his dragon by his side.
"I am." I whisper, somehow the wobbliness in my knees disappears.
He flashes a smirk, cunning and nearly childish. "Then you will only remain safe in my kingdom." He announces. And even though I'm more afraid than I was within the wolf trap, I know I can't reject his invitation. Not when the king of the Okuninushi is personally escorting me there.
"Now let us leave, the journey home will take two dawns." He says, his arm still curled around my waist, his expression both menacing and joyful. If he notices my fear or my hesitance he doesn't let me know.
The barbaric king pulls me up his dragon, his strength barely expended from carrying my weight. From his conquests, I must be worth a mere errand. He sits me on the saddle, behind him, and he shouts how I should hold onto him if I wish to survive.
And as I scramble to grab purchase of the man, he calls out to the dragon, and we fly up into the clouds, disappearing above them.
~~~
Ayumi
I wake up in awe. The dream was so vivid, so enchanting. Yet it felt more like nostalgia than some fake plot my mind conjured randomly.
The flight on the dragon was so mesmerizing I wished it was real. I wish I could actually fly in the sky up that high. Maybe with my quirk I can figure something out.
But then my thoughts go to Kousuke. His appearance is undoubtedly Bakago's. Hell, even their last names are practically siblings. Bakugo versus Bakugan. Even the clothes Kousuke wore was something similar to what Bakago might like. It's definitely very fitting.
I smile, pushing myself off of my sheets and resting my feet on the wooden floor. My phone pings, the light from the screen illuminating the low-lit room; my black-out curtains allow only a crack of morning light to peek through. Grabbing my phone, I flinch at the harsh light, blinking to adjust to it.
I got a few texts from Mina; she's asking if I wanted to go out to the arcade. I respond with an okay, going through the rest of my messages. Most are just people wishing me good health, but a single text stands out from the rest.
A text from Bakago.
We need to talk.
I huff a breath. No kidding, I want to type so badly but decide against it. I don't want him to change his mind from my sarcasm. I hover my thumbs over the keyboard for a few seconds, unable to find the right words to respond with. Why is it so hard to talk to the angry baka?
I grumble some more, battling between certain replies before finally deciding one.
ok, when and where?
I wait for a second, and am about to put the phone away. But then three dots pop up on the screen. I can't help but gape as I wait for him to respond. He's dead serious about this.
The park near Aldera elementary in 2 hrs.
Huh?
What?! Two hours?! He's serious, serious!
What?!
I inhale deeply and exhale again. This guy isn't that big of a deal. I can handle him. Yeah.Of course I can.
oki, cya then
I see the read receipt pop up almost immediately and then I shut off the phone before he sends anything else. I don't want to engage anymore in conversation until we meet.
I'll know more about Kousuke Bakugan soon enough. ***
Katsuki
"Hi Bakugo."
I've been waiting for the shitty girl for the past ten minutes so I was ready to snap at her the moment I heard her voice.
The fact she wears the same baby blue color she wore in the dream locks my voice in my throat. Shitty girl using her clothes as a weapon in itself.
Because I flash back to the dream that second, no longer surrounded by spring petals but by winter snow and a shivering Ayane instead of a smiling Tangerine.
I can see she seems dazed too as she blinks furiously as I meet with her eyes again.
And this time I can't help but groan in frustration, "Again, it happened again. Why do I see the girl from my head when I see you Tangerine?"
Her eyes widen, pointing to my chest for god knows what. "You mean Ayane?"
"How the hell do you know the names of people too?"
"I could ask you the same thing, Bakago." She retorts.
I let loose a pop of an explosion from my palm in agitation, standing up and stepping into her space. "Would you stop calling me that!" I yell.
"Not until you stop calling me Tangerine."
"Fat chance." I snap, sneering when she glares back. "Tangerine."
"Ugh!" She groans now, flailing her hands in the air and stomping to the bench I was sitting at before.
I sit on the other side, sitting angrily on the wooden seat.
The birds chirp as time ticks, and she fidgets, huffing angrily. Ayane had a similar expression when Kousuke was being 'vulgar' as she called it.
"Today's was different" Tangerine starts talking. "She fell in a hole." An awkward pause. "Kousuke hel-"
"Yeah, yeah I know." I interrupt her, exhaling through my nose and grumbling out the details. "Ayane Ishiyama, a peasant running away from an arranged marriage. The cunning bastard took her on his dragon."
"Haha yeah." She fidgets again. She needs to stop that. It's annoying. "It was really pretty up there though."
I hum in agreement. I can't deny that flyin' up there wasn't pretty. I'd do anything to get back up there again.
"What does this all mean?" She asks, I hear her clothes ruffle and her sigh a moment later. "Why are we seeing the same dream but from different points of view?"
I glance to her side, watching her gaze at the sky like a child with her head tilted back. (Stupid piece of orange.) "Like hell I know." I grunt out.
Wind blows and then she chuckles half-heartedly. "I'm glad I'm not going crazy." "How do you know you aren't, Carrot-head?"
(Shut up, my voice is just as spiteful as before. I'm snapping and am extremely angry at her. I'm definitely not being soft or whatever. Definitely not relating to her situation either. Shut up. I. Am. Not.)
I see her lips tilt up, her eyes catching mine. "Cause you are going through the same stuff, Sparky."
"Sparky?!"
"What, you're the one who called me Carrot-head." She sits up, shrugging passively.
"Tch, whatever." She isn't wrong. "The dream versions of us are together, but don't expect anything from me. I'm not the royal idiot."
"I know." She says with a small smile that stretches her freckles and brings out her eyes. (Stupid smile.) "You want to be the number one hero. And I'm just an extra."
"Damn right." I gruff, crossing my arms over my chest, irritation running through my veins. "Did you wear that on purpose? It's the same color as her dress."
"Huh?" She looks down, her eyes widening pathetically as she touches the cloth on her stomach. Like the touch is helping her realize she did something dumb. "No, I didn't notice. I was going to the arcade after to hang with Mina and Kirishima, and it was the first thing I saw in my closet." She giggles nervously, the sound ringing with spring. (Stupid giggles.)
"Hmph, why would you go to an arcade if you hate crowds?"
Her eyes widen again. Does she not want her eyelids anymore? If she opens 'em anymore wider, her eyelids will disappear goddamn.
"I don't hate crowds." She mumbles, her brows pinching in ire and her eyes slanting back with anger. I smirk despite the fact I know I shouldn't. "Heh, you freeze up every time you see one."
"Oh shut it, I don't hate them." She sighs, her expression defeated now. She must've finally accepted that I'm just that good. "It's complicated, but I'm not going to 'freeze up' when I'm at an arcade." She retorts.
"Keep telling yourself that."
"Humph!" She crosses her arms. "Fine, since you don't believe me, you're coming with me and I'm going to prove I'm not going to 'freeze up'" She stands up, releasing her arms, and grabbing my arm to pull me up.
"I'm not going anywhere with you." I grumble, and not budging despite her insistence.
"No too bad, you're coming, and then I'll beat you in all the arcade games there." She grunts, still using all her strength to force me to get up. It's sad really.
Then I fully absorbed what she said, and a vein popped on my forehead. "Huh! I'll make you eat your words, Tangerine!" I stand up abruptly, ignoring how she stumbles from letting me go so suddenly.
"No you won't." She taunts with a smile.
(Stupid smile, stupid eyes, stupid voice. Stupid Yumi.)
"That's it!" I exclaim. "Where the hell is the arcade you're going to?"
She smiles again, grabbing my wrist and dragging me to god knows where. And the whole way there, I'm screaming bloody murder at her bright orange head.
Show You What I Got
Chapter Notes
The beginning of Kousuke's POV starts this chapter!!! Hope y'all like it <3
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Kousuke
"My Lord, are you sure you heard a dame calling out in distress?" Kirigaya asks hesitantly, lugging my saddle behind him with little to no effort.
Kirigaya is a good man. One of the best in my army and my closest friend. His shapeshifting skills have made him just as famous as I, even if his name is not spread through the land, his true form is. However, regardless of his heightened senses from his beastly form, he still lacks when he's a mere human by my side.
I'm certain I heard the voice. A sweet calling tinged with desperation, with frustration. Whoever this dame is, she deserved the humanity of assistance. This much I know to be true.
I sniff the air, a bright scent of sunflowers laced in the wind from the south side.
"I'm sure, Kirigaya," I say. "I shall move forward, and when I find her, I shall summon you with my horn."
"Of course, my liege," He nods, his eyes glinting with determination and passion to follow my command. He's always been like this. Loyal to a fault, the most reliable steed I could ever dream of having.
Despite my reputation of being a fearful, "barbaric" tyrant, I am anything but. I see no reason to deny entry in my lands if one wishes for a new beginning. I wish no harm on a person who can offer strength when in my land.
I only wish for one thing in exchange. Honesty. Honesty in my lands. Honesty in dealings with others and the society as a whole. But most of all, honesty to oneself.
You show honesty, and I'll do my best to provide you with the world and protection against the darkness hidden outside my kingdom. And by darkness I mean the corrupt kingdoms that neighbor my own.
The Haniyasu Kingdom is in the direction the scent comes from, the mountains filled with emeralds standing tall and hiding the castle behind them. The winds are always colder here, the sky dimmer, and the wolves hunting ground isn't too far from this frontier either.
The snow is relentless at this time of year, and my boots carve a path as I stalk through the trees. The sun has risen yet no rays peak through the clouds, just a warmth from the ball of fire suspended above us. And the warmth was nothing in comparison to fallen ice from last dark.
I hone in my senses, exploiting the last of the potion the witch gave me for this hunting trip. She said my ears would be more alert than a bat's, my eyes sharper than a hawk's, my nose more telling than a hound's.
The scent is stronger and with it a sound of clattering stones can be heard. No, not stones. Teeth. I follow the sound, hearing puffs of breath echo between the rattles as I reach closer.
When I pass a pair of evergreen trees in my path I finally notice the dip in the ground. A pit meant for wolf hunting much like Kirigaya and I were meant to do today.
As I stalk closer, my eyes soak in the color of sunset peeking from the rim, and beneath it a cloak of darkness that did well on hiding the rest of her.
Then I take another step. A careless step.
A thick twig breaks from under my sole, and with the break of silence I hear her breath hitch and pick up just slightly so.
"Hello!" She shivers as she calls out. Desperation is tangled on her tongue. "Please, would you help me out of this wretched trap kind fellow?!"
I tread closer, cautiously yet not concerned for keeping the silence. Who knows if she's an assassin tracking my movements? I must keep a level head before engaging with full trust.
When I reach the ledge of the circular grave, my gaze is held captive by hers.
He don't care for her tattered dress, nor for her dirty, disheveled hair, nor for her sniffling nose, nor for her concerning discolored skin.
It was her eyes that enraptured me in a trance, tying my eyes to hers with little room for hesitance.
They twinkle despite no harsh lights reflecting against them, the greens and blues meshing together in cool semblance like that of the lagoons back in my land. Like the water one bathes in with that peaceful trickle of clear warm water, the type that soothes muscles and calms hotheads much like myself, after a long day in the sweltering heat.
I snap out of my reverie as soon as I catch myself in this intolerable state. "I'm no kind fellow!" I snap with my jaws. Kirigaya's habits do influence me more than I care to admit. "How did you land your sorry ass in this 'trap'?" I hope my usual snark will hide the inexplicable and improper affection I have for the stranger.
Smitten at first sight is something I'd never think I'd experience. Yet here I am.
"I fell in." She spits out, her voice dangerously low with obvious distaste. "What else would you have assumed, you vulgar man? And who would put a bear pit in the middle of winter? They are in hibernation at this time."
Oh. She too has a temper as wild as mine. How intriguing.
In normal circumstances I'd either snap back or smirk with a cunning comeback. Instead I frown, utterly confuzzled at her assumption of a bear pit.
"This is not a bear pit, you peasant. It's a wolf's trap." I puff out with a roll of my eyes, stuffing my hand in my sack to search for my horn. "Those beasts are rampant in these woods and are placed to trap them off the main road." I glare at her some more, deducing that she is, in fact, not familiar with these paths, nor the rules of the locals who travel them. "And what is a fair maiden such as yourself running off road with nothing but a satchel? You a thief?"
Her chapped lips tear as she sneers from my comment. "I am nothing of the sort. I am running from my home as I am betrothed to a monster I wish nothing to do with."
My eyes widen from her confession. Her eyes are blazing as she whispers that truth, the sheen clearly from unshed tears she holds at bay.
Honesty is something I treasure, and the way her eyes betray her strength show just how forlorn she truly is.
She's a refugee from her homeland, running from her burdensome past. Running from a forced marriage that she wishes to take no part in.
Pity is the first emotion I experience from seeing the crack in her façade. Admiration is the second. It is the emotion that eclipses my better judgment for trusting such a brash-mouthed yet strong-willed dame.
"Well then, your hand." I say while bending down and offering my hand to her.
She hesitates for a moment before accepting it and laces her frigid hand in mine. It is so cold and so discolored it is concerning; she might lose her fingers if she doesn't heat them soon. She needs to only hold one of Kirigaya's scales and she'll be warm in no time.
The icy wind blows between us as I pull her up and my concern for her shivering frame heightens. She stumbles as she shakes from her core and I catch her before she hurts herself anymore than she already has.
"You are dangerously cold." I whisper as she leans into me, sighs in content too.
"One would be when succumbed to this fatal weather for hours on end." Her breath tickles my bare neck as she whispers back.
I attempt to discount my concern, failing miserably when I finally feel my horn between my fingers. I pull it from my sack, blowing into it with a large breath and feeling her flinch from the fullness of it.
Snow collapses and birds fly past and she shivers still. Then a familiar shadow is overcast above us, Kirigaya's unmistakable rhythm of flight a symphony in my ears.
He lands beside me, flattening some trees to make some space for his wings. It is when he bows his head down I see the buckle of his saddle is finished. He finally learned how to put it on properly.
I glance to the girl in my arms and am gifted an expression of unadulterated awe. Parted lips, wide eyes, and a single puff of breath is what her face had and when her beautiful lagoon eyes meet mine, her breath hitches in fear.
"You're The Barbaric King Kousuke Bakugan." Oh. So she finally knows who I am.
I smirk despite seeing the apparent terror leaking from her eyes and her chest. "In the flesh. And what do people call you?"
"Ayane Ishiyama." She responds in a rush. She must truly be terrified for her to divulge it so quickly.
I recall reading a book of Haniyasu Kingdom's name catalog; every single last name had the character 'yama' integrated in their family name. Something to do with never losing their heritage to their true kingdom.
"You're from the Haniyasu Kingdom." I note.
"I am."
"Then you will only remain safe in my kingdom." I give her the friendliest grin I can muster, leading her to Kirigaya's side, who is now passively laying on his belly and waiting for his next command. "Now let us leave, the journey home will take two dawns."
I help her up the dragon, barely using my strength seeing as she has none to accommodate for herself. She's in a daze now, lost to her thoughts and barely responding to my touch as I secure her on the saddle.
Then a plan conjures in my brain and I smile when facing with Kirigaya's fore.
"I suggest you hold on for your life, peasant." I tease with snark, holding onto the black horns on either side of me. She won't fall, the rope harness at her waist is enough to keep her on the saddle. But her spaciness has a quality I wish to poke at for good fun. "Unless you wish to fall to your death."
I feel her hands touch my arms and then they travel around my cape and torso, her face hiding in the center of my back.
"Hya Kiri!" I command, letting the painting of the sky calm my racing heart as we ascend above the clouds.
My heart is only racing from the rush of flight. I know this and I'm fully aware it has nothing to do with warmth behind me.
A peasant could never have an effect on the Lord Kousuke Bakugan. ~~~
Katsuki
Spring is getting hotter everyday, the humidity making my skin sticky with sweat. For most extras, the humidity is the worst part, the heat only amplifies their annoyance.
I, on the other hand, am the strongest the more I sweat; so humidity is welcome in my book on any given day.
Despite the nice weather, I was still shivering from the snow in the stupid dream. It's the same dream for three days and every morning after I wake up with chills from just the thought of winter and frost.
However, whenever I think of Snobby Tangerine in my dreams, the chills are replaced by warmth in my chest. I makes my stomach churn and my heart race just like it did for Kousuke.
That was another thing. Before the dreams was just me in Kousuke's place acting against my will. The only things I could recall were the conversations said aloud and that too in a patchy sense.
But ever since meeting Tangerine, I can hear the snobby king's thoughts; like they were mine. Like I was reliving a distant memory all over again, kinda like déjà vu but in my dreams.
Not to mention the mystery of Kirigaya's origins are clarified. He's just Shitty hair in a different font, and instead of being a literal rock, he's a literal fire-breathing lizard. Totally not weird at all.
When I reach much closer to UA's campus, I see bright orange hair I find revolting as ever. It was shiny and clean, the exact opposite of the extra (Stupid pretty extra) in my dreams.
She turns her head like she knows I'm the one watching and smiles (stupid smile) with her lagoon eyes meeting mine. (Stupid lagoon eyes; I don't even know what the shitty king's lagoon looks like, what the hell.)
And now she's next to me... actually pacing to walk with me. (What the hell. What the hell. What the hell.)
She doesn't say anything so I don't say anything. (Act normal, act normal, act normal). Before we know it, we've reached the shitty classroom and taken our seats.
Sensei enters right when the bell rings and the classroom goes silent within a second. Took the extras their damn time to learn quiet time.
As though Sensei heard my thoughts, he says monotonous as ever, "You lot are getting better at staying quiet." An awkward pause with all of us fidgeting. (Yumi is fidgeting actually, she's shaking my desk and really needs to stop). "Your fight isn't over."
"More villains?" Shitty Deku has the nerve to ask.
"Another fight?" I add on.
"The sports festival." Sensei answers and the class erupts in chaos.
Then Ears tells the class to shut it. Honestly they deserved it.
"Isn't too soon to have a sport's festival?" The spark plug actually asks a decent question.
"You have a point, but we are holding the festival to show how the villains haven't gotten to us despite their attack."
Now everyone starts talking all at once all over again. (Do they never learn?! I swear I'll explode them all one by one and all at once!) All fawning over the fact that heroes will notice them. They're canon fodder, but this class doesn't have all useless candidates. Even then I'm sure I'll be number one. I have to be.
Tangerine turns around, her eyes crinkling on the corners as she beams with bright excitement that literally blinds me. Before she can speak a syllable Sensei grabs his scarf and activates his quirk while commanding us to be silent.
Once again the shitty extras go quiet. (Honestly how many times do we gotta go through this).
Sensei sighs and deactivates his quirk, his voice disinterested as ever. "This is important for all of you to get recognized by heroes. So, to help prepare, the teachers have added an extra free period for more help in training your stamina and quirks, starting today."
I grin widely. Now I can show everyone who they'll be against so they can bring a fair fight. ***
Ayumi
The locker room is quiet when I finish fastening the last buckle of my boots.
Practicing with my boots during this practice period was crucial. Especially since I registered them as necessary support items to keep the fight even in the Sports Festival.
I am practicing to subconsciously have the metal ring morph into spheres above my head, have them orbit around an imaginary center point.
Any practice at any point of the day is needed for training. I might not show it, but I have a competitive streak. I don't necessarily want to be number one as the explosive boy Bakago declares on the daily. But that doesn't mean I won't come to the Sports Festival without a fight.
I crack my neck before assembling the metal braces along the slots made in my boots and jog to the running grounds. After some breathing exercises, and some leg stretches, I run four kilometers along the track, my metal braces melted from my boots and orbiting above my head once again. As I glance to the clearing, I notice some classmates practice their quirks.
Kirishima-chan is sparring against Mina-chan without their quirks. Kaminari-kun is also there, watching him comment while spontaneously sending electricity to up the scale of their spar. Beside their group Uraraka-chan floats in the air and Tsu-chan catches her with her tongue when she starts to float too far.
My ears then explode from the loud sound of Bakago's explosions a little ways from the groups.
I linger at him longer than the others, noticing the fluidity he has in aerial flight. He's clearly finding ways to better move around with his quirk, maybe depending less on his legs which he doesn't use as much when fighting.
The way he blasts through the air with such grace sparks an idea (unironically).
If I could find a way to use my quirk for aerial movement, then I could have so many more options against my opponents. Could help possible team mates if one of the competitions had that requirement.
When I'm done with the four kilometer run I planned, and caught my breath, I bring the metal orbs in front of me. I merge them into one large sphere, mixing them evenly to create the sturdiest metal I can with what I have. The single metal is made in a dull rose golden shade and I keep it in a single orb.
I experiment with what I can use. First I try wings, but then quickly find I don't have enough metal to compensate for my weight. Then I try splitting the metal orb into two plates, one for each foot. I fail miserably, my balancing toppling over within seconds.
This challenge was harder than I imagined it would be. Flying is only meant for the chosen few huh?
I stare back at Bakago's acrobatic moves, my chest inflames with annoyance. How can he be so good at everything?
(Despite his attitude, gods know he can't shut up for five minutes even if he knows it's good for him.)
Then I see him connect his hands together, an explosion larger than the two individual ones shoots him higher up in the sky.
I got another idea. What if I made one platform instead of two. Theoretically, I would only need to focus on the mobility of the single slab of metal.
So I merge the two orbs into one, using my hands to guide the morphing of the shape. A circular plate was simple and ideal, balance was elementary too. But I need something to increase mobility, increase speed.
I streamline it into an ellipse, pulling the two focal points further apart while maintaining my weight's balance. It takes three tries before I find the perfect fit and I glide experimentally in a circle.
I fall after two rounds, and wince when I get up. But then, with my racing heart, I laugh out loud. And the adrenaline that coursed through my veins makes me whoop with joy.
I can't wait to show the world what I can do.
Chapter End Notes
Hey hey!
Kousuke is really just as cocky as Katsuki and we love to see it. (And a big simp for their lovely
ginger heh) (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:·゚✧
On another sadder note, I know I've been missing for a month, but I'll be taking another month hiatus. I've got lots of family stuff needed sorting and will not be able to write enough to post at a weekly basis until August. ::>_<::
I'll be trying my best to get some chapters written before I come back and will also be (hopefully) finished with another WIP I've been working on for over a year so I can focus on this work more. ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ
Thank you so much for your support all throughout this work! Luv you bubs <3
See y'all in August!
Warmth From Your Hand
Chapter Notes
I'm baccckkkkk! Hope you guys enjoy this as it gets pretty fluffy for the next few chapters heh (ノ
◕ヮ◕)ノ*:·゚✧
Also, weekly updates from now on! Love you guys and happy reading!
Ayane
A stag grazes under the verdigris canopy, their steps light and antlers ducked down scraping against the soil and pelting through the dollops of color.
From the plenty of hunting trips I accompanied my dastard uncle has taught me enough to hunt for spoils and navigate nature's territory. Enough to survive. And this lone stag is for my taking.
I am not fond of hunting. On the contrary, taking life constricts my heart and plunges it within the depths of my navel, hitches my breath while my eyes burn with mourning. I have many affections for the creatures of the forest.
For the forest has swaddled me in safety many times when in distress. The trees erected in towers shielded me from my uncle's cynical eyes, the fuzzy viridian blades sift between my toes in childish tenderness and the dewdrops sparkle from the sun's warm embrace. An embrace I was deprived of in my youth without my mother nor my father in my company.
They passed on when I was only a babe. The only recollection I have of either is the portrait in the ballroom.
However, as nature's kingdom provides respite from the kingdom of my birthright, it also succumbs me to its clutches. And now I'm the barbaric king's captive.
He doesn't think it as such. His perception of me is rather dull than I'd care to admit. He thinks, as he has so kindly speaks of me, that I am a dame in distress, a peasant in need of protection.
Not that I am not in need of his assistance. After all, my original destination was his land. Nonetheless, his carelessness in treating me with less dignity than I am accustomed to is maddening. The little consolation I have is that the barbaric king, even as vulgar as he is in his words, has the minimal decency to lend me weapons in this cruel world.
Against my wishes, however, he gives me a sword and a dagger, and on my insistence he allows me to use his bow and arrow. The grip of the handles on each weapon are comforting and I swear I felt the grooves mold perfectly my fingers when I first held it. My intuition tells me it must have something to do with the rumors of magicians and witches from his kingdom. I didn't voice these concerns out loud.
The stag moves again, its ears perking as it stands up rigid as stone. Its eyes land somewhere to its left, off to the distance.
I hold my breath and my tread is light as I remain careful of nature's blanket and avoid anything that can make a sound; that can alert the chestnut beauty in front of me. I take an arrow from the quiver on my shoulders, pulling the drawstring as far back as I am able.
But before I let the arrow follow the path I forged for it, a lioness, agile and swift, pounces for the stag, claiming its prize with its claws and teeth sinking into flesh.
As I stare at the crimson staining the cushioned floor, the scent of iron filling the forest's breath, my own breath stills in my chest, and my hands shiver in terror.
Because I recall what I read of lions in the palace archives. I recall that lions, despite being predatory felines, are pack animals. So if one is here, so are others.
And the fact they haven't revealed themselves to enjoy the spoils from the stag only allows me to presume they are still out here.
They are still hunting.
I take a shaky step back, my foot snapping a twig in half. The sound echoes in the woods, birds flutter away out of the trees from the west. When I hear a growl come from the west, I run east, as fast as my feet can take me.
I dodge under low branches and jump over overgrown roots. I look over my shoulder the moment I hear speeded thumps come closer, hear the whoosh of many lionesses approaching my flank. They were just a single pounce away from painting the forest floor red again. So when I spin around a tree using my hand to catch my weight, splinters get caught in my fingers, and blood drips down.
A roar resounds from my left, and a snapping of jaws clicks on my right. As the pair lunge at me, I slide underneath a giant root that is elevated enough for my frame to slip through. They crash into one another; the whimper from them both clenches at my heart. After all, they're only hunting me to survive. Just as I was hunting the stag for my own survival.
Then a third lion, the male with a mane that would make my uncle delirious with competition, is in my path. I attempt to swerve away, try to change my course before my end is prematurely made. But mildew makes my footing topple, makes me fall to the ground.
The lion's roar shakes the leaves, rattles my chest, trembles my limbs. It pounces within a blink of an eye, and I will myself to move. To survive.
Just as I dodge from its jaws, its claws slash through my arm's flesh, and I scream with all the air I can muster.
The pain is blinding, my vision white as my throat is grated raw. I can only pray for a savior from the grace of the gods.
As suddenly as the lion is in my vicinity, the beautiful crimson dragon descends from the skies, crushing trees in its wake. Its roar thunders; compared to the lion's moot aggression, the dragon's voice and presence overwhelms like a storm.
Immediately after, a battle cry tears through and the sound of metal cleanly carving meat reverberates in my ears. The crimson dragon's tail curls around me, its bright red eyes meeting mine as it ducks its head beside mine. A new fright ceases in my skull, the blood rushing out and leaving me colder than winters we face.