Chapter Text
"I need... a moment."
The words slice clean through the chaos as you raise both hands, backing away like a startled animal cornered in a spotlight. Too many eyes. Too much pressure. You feel like a single thread holding a thousand-pound weight.
Instinctively, you scanned the crowd for an escape route—spotting Riri immediately.
There they were, hunched forward like a spy with a mission, clutching a pair of binoculars up on the stands. You weren't sure if they were trying to get your attention or they're literally just not all there in the head. Either way, you already know they're enjoying the show. Or rather, enjoy watching you struggle here.
Multiple spectators in the same row had already inched several seats away, leaving a clear perimeter around Riri like they were a ticking bomb. Honestly, as they freaking should. Those citizens are doing a good job of keeping a safe distance from that wizard.
When your eyes meet, Riri perked up immediately and started waving the same big dumb sign from earlier. You groan, facepalming as a blush starts crawling up your neck, dying a little inside.
Actually, that's an understatement. You want nothing more than to dig a hole on the ground and bury yourself alive.
Anyway, they were mouthing something now—aggressively—paired with frantic hand gestures that looked like a mix of interpretive dance and a magic spell being cast. It's insane. Unreadable. Knowing them, you're not even sure you want to know.
Like girl, please, for the love of God, you are in a public server.
You make a silent note to pretend you don't know them until the Sports Festival is over. Maybe even a week after.
Before you can even attempt to emotionally detach yourself from the disaster zone in the stands, Katsuki cuts through the thick haze of embarrassment like a grenade going off.
"Oi, where are you lookin' at?! Hurry the fuck up!" he snaps, his voice raw and irritated. "You've already kept us waitin' long enough! I know you're gonna be on my team anyway!"
You sigh so hard it deflates half your soul. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you shoot him a very deadpan look. Can someone just unplug the stadium real quick?
"Bro... you're literally giving me every reason not to team up with you."
"The hell?! Just c'mere, already!"
Before you can repeat yourself, Katsuki strides over and snatches your hand like he's claiming a prize, tugging you toward him with reckless force.
"Ow?! Watch it—!" you hiss, stumbling into his chest with a hard tug.
In a split second, Shoto steps in—quiet as snowfall. His hand closes around your other wrist, not harsh, but firm. His heterochromatic eyes lock onto Katsuki's, and suddenly it feels like the temperature drops by ten degrees.
"Bakugou, let go," he says coolly, voice low and edged. "She hasn't decided."
The air between them crackles, as if their sheer tension might ignite or freeze over.
Meanwhile, Izuku hovers behind you, quite hesitantly. His fingers timidly graze your shoulder cutting in with that meek voice of his in hopes of convincing you.
Fuck, okay. There's less than ten minutes left to form teams so you'll have to critically think efficiently. Yep, you go girl. No pressure or anything!
Izuku.
He's smart. If there's anyone who can come up with a game plan under pressure, it's him. It's been proof of his victory without using One For All in the obstacle race. He's a dark horse, and teaming with him is basically ensuring a solid strategy. Not to mention, you know you work well together.
The most obvious con though is the fact he holds the ten million point value. Which makes you, by association, the second biggest target. Everyone will be gunning for you both. You don't mind a challenge, but do you really want to spend the whole battle running from half the stadium?
You turn slightly.
Katsuki.
He's got explosive offense. His raw power combined with your precision makes for a devastating combo. He's aggressive, bold and would one hundred percent bulldoze through anyone in his way. You know he'd never let anyone get close to your headband if he could help it. There's no one else who wants to win as badly as he does.
One thing, he's volatile right now. Hasn't cooled off from losing the last round. And now, his pride is bruised seeing you hesitate. If you say no, he might explode. If you say yes, he might still explode. Plus, he also went ahead with pushing himself while turning everyone else into enemies by what he said earlier during the opening ceremony. You don't need that attention.
Lastly...
Shoto.
He's tactically sound. Honestly, his level of offense power rivals with Katsuki. Balanced and controlled. Fire and ice. Actually, scratch that—no one hasn't even seen him use his fire yet in battle, but the potential is there. With him, the chances of winning are high—and you won't have the entire arena gunning for you like with Izuku. It's safer. Smarter.
You haven't worked with him closely before but that might be a card you're willing to gamble. He's cool on the outside, but you know there's something boiling under the surface.
The last time you were on the same side during class trials, he didn't even need you to win. So, yeah. Not the complete definition of teamwork. And here, again, faced with the same predicament, you wonder if he's seeing things from a different perspective.
You take one last breath, leveling your gaze with each of them.
There's really no easy way to say this, but either way, it's better to just get it over with.
"I've decided to join your team, Shoto."
He approached you first this time. He didn't beg or yank you around like a trophy—not like he's the type to, so maybe... this was a glimpse display of trust, like he believes in your skill.
A beat of silence.
And then—
"YOU'VE GOT TO BE SHITTING ME!"
Katsuki's reaction is immediate—like a rabid dog. Wait, that's actually an insult to your beloved Shiro. He throws his hands up like someone just told him All Might switched to being a dentist. He looks like he's about to start another obstacle race—with Shoto's throat as the finish line.
Kirishima appeared from the side like a seasoned zookeeper to drag him away from the scene. Sero slid in to help wrangle him, looping tape around his waist... you know, just in case.
Katsuki's muffled yelling fades into the background. Poor Kirishima and Sero, they're probably going to end up getting their ass cooked before the Calvary Battle could even begin.
You watched the whole thing unfold, amused.
For whatever reason, he seems to be really intent on having you on his team even though it was a close debate. You almost feel guilty—but Katsuki crashing out is way too funny.
You glance back at Izuku. He meets your gaze with a soft, lopsided smile—definitely disappointed, but being a good sport about it.
"I-It's okay, [Name]." he says, trying to hold it together. "Honestly, I respect your decision. Todoroki's team is.. yeah, it's strong. It's fair. He's got Iida too. I-I mean, Iida chose to go with him already so... the math checks out..."
You nod gently, your expression softening. "Yeah... no hard feelings. I'll see you around, 'kay? Good luck, Izuku."
He nods—still that kind, slightly nervous look on his face—and then turns to group back with Uraraka.
You watch him go with a small sigh before turning back to Shoto, who's standing just a few feet away. Completely unfazed, as always. His expression hasn't changed in the slightest since your announcement.
"... Let's go," he says simply, gesturing you to follow him toward your new team. He then wastes no time getting down to business. You can already see Momo and Iida waiting nearby.
She gives you a small nod of acknowledgement, while the bespectacled male welcomes you with a salute like you're enlisting in the military as you approach.
"Todoroki has already assigned our roles," Iida says, brimming with purpose. "I'll be at the front to provide agile mobility and physical defense across the field. Yaoyorozu will hold the right wing, producing support items as needed."
Shoto gives a subtle nod, then turns his attention to you. "And you, will be on my left wing."
Your brow arches slightly. "Oh?"
"I've seen how precise your control is. If anyone tries to get close, you'll be the one to intercept. I'll handle longer range threats."
It takes you a second to register what he's really saying—not just that he's counted you into his plan, but that he trusts you enough to guard the most vulnerable angle on his side. To lead half the field, not follow.
From Shoto Todoroki, that's saying something.
"Alright," you affirmed. "Leave it to me. I can switch from defense to offense on the fly."
Iida pushes up his glasses. "And Todoroki—you will be utilizing both your ice and fire for terrain control and crowd suppression, yes?"
At that, you catch it—the faintest shift in Shoto's posture. A brief stiffening in his shoulders. A small quiet storm behind his eyes. His expression doesn't change, but the subtle clench of his fists is louder than words.
"Not quite. When I'm in battle..." He hesitates, jaw tightening. "I never use my left side."
Oh.
The breeze passes by, brushing strands of hair across your face. You glance at the faint wisp of frost curling around his right hand. Fire doesn't even flicker on his other.
Iida and Momo both flicker their gaze toward him, but doesn't press. You, on the other hand, you'd be lying if you say that you weren't wondering why. Shoto's stronger than he lets on. So, why hold back?
Still, you bite your tongue. Now's not the time. You inhale deep through your nose, forcing down the rest of your thoughts. Every team gets on their readied formation.
The stadium buzzes with anticipation as Present Mic's voice thunders overhead, booming louder than a war drum. "Okay, you wild first-years! I hope you're happy with your chosen teams! Let's hear one final countdown before the game starts!"
Right now, all that matters is the task ahead. Twice the defense. Twice the offense.
"3!"
You'll just hit hard enough to make up the difference.
"2!"
One way or another—
"1!"
You'll win.
"BEGIN!"
To no one's surprise, all teams—including yours—launch into motion like unleashed animals, naturally heading straight for Izuku's headband.
There are other things to take into account—teams that hang back, low-profile and opportunistic. Lurking like wolves in the bush, waiting to strike when others are too busy scrapping for the big prize.
You expected this sort of thing would happen.
So, when one of the approaching teams—some overeager students from Class 1-B—lunges in from your blind spot, aiming for Shoto's headband, you react in an instant.
You summoned a ring of five gleaming blades midair. They hum with energy, suspended for a moment like a halo before firing forward in a tight arc.
"Nice try," you mutter under your breath, lips curling into a smirk.
Shoto doesn't flinch. "Good call."
You flash him a bright grin at the praise—brief, but genuine—before scanning the area around you with focus.
Half the field is entangled in chaos, teams scrambling for mid-tier headbands, hoping to rack up points before zeroing in on the ten million. Katsuki's one of them—tearing through the crowd like a landmine with legs, uncaring of who's in his path.
While the other half is converging, just like you, all with one goal in mind.
But you're gaining ground fast, thanks to Momo's latest creation—custom rollerblades mounted onto Iida's legs for a burst of amplified mobility. You feel the acceleration surge through your body, hair whipping in the wind.
You don't need Shoto to give the signal. You know what needs to be done.
With a deep breath, you summon your strength and focus, muscle straining as you call forth an array of swords, each laced with searing flame.
A fusion attack of Heaven's Wheel and Flame Empress Sword...
"Empress of Heaven: Infernal Rain!"
The heat pulses just on the surface of your palms as you launch them remotely with a sweeping motion, the projectiles raining down not just toward Izuku's team, but scattering across the field.
You're not just targeting one enemy.
One of the other riders yells in panic as they narrowly duck, others scarily avoiding your attacks. "Dammit—she can make that many?!"
Momo crafts a long staff out of thin air. As soon as it solidifies in her grip, Shoto reaches out and grabs a hold of it without a word. A thin layer of frost rushes down his arm and instantly encases the weapon in a jagged sheath of ice, transforming it into a glacial battering ram.
A massive trail of ice erupts from its end—shaking forward like a frozen tidal wave. It surges toward the opposing teams still reeling from your earlier attack, catching them mid-reaction. The moment their feet meet the spreading frost, they're trapped—locked in place as the ice wraps around their ankles and creeps higher.
It was a good synergy between you and Shoto.
Eventually, the borrowed jetpack Izuku had been maneuvering—clearly designed by a support course student on his team—has malfunctioned. With their mobility cut off, his team was cornered. No more room to run.
Tokoyami sends his Dark Shadow in a direct strike. Momo defends, crafting a riot shield to block it.
"Yaoyorozu's too good at her Creation Quirk," Izuku says warily, eyes narrowing. "We have to be careful."
Tokoyami didn't even look at her.
"No," he said flatly. "[L/N] is the one to fear. Her rain of flaming swords... it emitted so much sunlight—any more and it would've completely destroyed Dark Shadow."
The freckled teen's eyes widened with realization. Of course, you're too good. He should've known when he was recruiting you earlier.
You glance up at Shoto, who's already deep in thought, clearly working through the next move in real time. Before either of you could speak, Iida's voice cut in.
"I have a plan," he declared. "But it will render me immobile afterward. Prepare yourselves, everyone. Hold on tight!"
The roar of his engines grew louder—metal chiming against the ground, flames bursting at his calves as the turbines flared with sudden power.
"Torque Over—Reciproburst!"
Before you could blink, the world blurred around you. The wind ripped past your ears, you were flying across the field. And in one swift motion, Shoto snatched the ten-million headband clean off Izuku's head.
"WOAH!" Present Mic shouted, practically leaping out of his seat. "That was one big blur!"
Yeah, holy shit. What the actual fuck just happened?
There was no time to celebrate. Because Izuku's already charging back in, teeth gritted, determination practically pouring off him in waves. But there's something different about him—red, vein-like lines spider across his arm like lightning under his skin.
No way... Is he seriously about to use One For All?
You narrow your eyes. That would take a massive toll on his body. If he maxes out his power now—just to hit Shoto or you—he might not even make it to the next round. It'd be a reckless move. Then again... this is Izuku we're talking about.
Suddenly, flames roar to life.
Your head snaps toward Shoto, who's igniting his left side—fire blooming from his shoulder like it's been waiting to be let out. And just as Izuku brushes past him, your eyes catch something terrifyingly human in Shoto's expression:
Surprise.
Wait—he didn't mean to.
And that second of hesitation costs him. In the blur of motion, Izuku's hand shoots out—snatching a headband right off of him.
Your breath catches.
But—
"That's not it," Momo says beside you. "We mixed the headbands up."
Izuku's face drops.
"There's no way we'd leave the prize on top," she finishes with a quiet edge. "You underestimated us."
Suddenly, they're back for more.
Katsuki comes blasting in from above, an explosion echoing in his wake as he shoots through the air like a missile. He's frantic—eyes darting left and right, scanning for the headband. His gaze lands on Izuku. Empty. No points.
Which could only mean one thing.
"Damn two-faced asshole!"
Izuku surges forward and Katsuki's hot on his heels.
"[Name]!" Shoto calls out. You're already moving before your name fully registers. The two of your brace to intercept—but before impact—
"TIME'S UP!"
The horn blares. The Calvary Battle is officially over.
Only now do you realize you've been holding your breath the entire time. You finally exhale, heart hammering against your ribs like it wants out.
Katsuki falls face-flat into the dirt. Kirishima and the others rush to check on him. Well, clearly he's far from okay. He angrily slams his fists into the ground repeatedly. Izuku's not much better—tense and on the verge of sobbing, hands balled into fists. The formation of your team disbands and you hear Shoto curse under his breath.
Hold on, what even is the scoreboard?
FIRST PLACE - TEAM TODOROKI
SECOND PLACE - TEAM BAKUGOU
THIRD PLACE - TEAM SHINSOU
FOURTH PLACE - TEAM MIDORIYA
Momo stands beside you, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her brows are drawn, thoughtful. "We might've ended in first place, but it was too close for comfort."
You nod slowly, a faint frown tugging at your lips. She's right. Victory feels less like a celebration and more like a narrow escape. Your heart's still pounding. Your hands are still twitching from the adrenaline. Honestly, you can't even feel proud yet.
You glance over and spot Izuku a few feet away, absolutely bawling his eyes out like a broken faucet. The dramatic sight of it slips out a smile before you can stop it.
Ironic, isn't it? You just won first place. But somehow... you feel genuinely happier for him.
You're already walking toward him before you even realize.
"Hey!" you call out, a lightness in your tone. "Congratulations. You guys gave us a challenge back there."
Izuku looks up with puffy eyes, mouth trembling. And instead of calming down—he wails louder. You laugh awkwardly, patting his shoulder as he crumbles like a wet paper towel.
What you don't notice—can't notice—however, are the same two boys watching from a distance once more.
Shoto and Katsuki.
And yeah, they're both feeling like absolute shit. For entirely different reasons. Or... maybe not so different at all.
Shoto stands stiff, still reeling. Still replaying the moment over and over. He said he wouldn’t use his flames—he meant it. That side of him, is everything he's sworn to lock away. But then Izuku pulled that ridiculous stunt, forced his hand, rattled something deep in his core. Provoked something primal.
And in a blink, he ignited. Just like that.
Am I really so weak-willed? Just like him? Was all that conviction nothing but empty words?
The thought eats him alive.
He looks toward you. Watches you with that same warm smile you gave him during the match. But now it’s aimed at Izuku. Your voice light, your laughter effortless as you freely pat the green-haired boy’s shoulder.
You were on his team. You chose him.
So why does it feel like you belong over there?
Meanwhile, Katsuki is nothing but raw, shaking fury. His hands twitch, itching to blow something—anything—up. He didn't even lose, technically. Second place. Still in it. Still standing. He's never despised anything more in his life.
But that's not the point. That's never been the point. If he doesn't win by miles, he might as well be crawling.
He came in behind Icy-Hot. Behind the damn nerd.
And then there’s you.
You must be the final straw. The goddamn cherry on top.
As much as he should get used to it by now, you're with Deku. Again. Laughing. Talking. Standing so close to him like nothing else matters. It's infuriating.
You were supposed to pick him.
And yet—despite every bitter thought, despite the heat flaring in his chest—he can’t tear his eyes away.
Neither of them can.