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Jirou grits her teeth as she slides back a few feet, propelled by one of Bakugou’s fearsome explosions. Painfully aware of how close she is to the edge of the ring, she tightens her grip on the shield Momo tossed her at the beginning of their match, the only thing protecting her. Bakugou seems to have realised this too, and he’s directing a constant stream of explosions at her, giving her no time to sneak her jacks into her boots and release the noise that would end this match in seconds.
Obviously, Jirou hadn’t expected training to be a hero to be easy, especially not at a place as prestigious as U.A., but paring her and Momo against Bakugou and Kirishima was so unfair it was almost criminal. Their quirks were well matched, and they seemed to read each other so easily, especially after what happened to Bakugou last summer. She and Momo weren’t as in sync as they were, a weakness that was becoming more and more apparent. To make matters worse, Aizawa hadn’t given them any planning time, to be more realistic- because if they met up while fighting villains, the villains wouldn’t stop to let them chat strategy. Which is true, but still. Jirou would have preferred some preparation.
Another explosion hits Jirou with full force, and she staggers slightly. The shield is beginning to crack under the pressure of the never-ending blows Bakugou lands. Quickly, Jirou glances right, straining to catch sight of Momo, smiling slightly as she watched the other girl give Kirishima a sharp whack with the staff she pulled from her leg at the start of the fight.
The distraction costs her.
Jirou watches a crack appear in the shield and knows without having to look that Bakugou will be smiling that fire bright smile that only appears when he knows he’s going to win.
And, in that moment, Jirou wants to wipe that smile right off his face.
The smoke Bakugou’s explosions create has fully surrounded her, almost fully cutting her off from Momo and making her cough. She could use it to hide, but that’s a predictable enough move for Bakugou to have prepared for. She wonders how much of this her classmates can actually see, stood on the side-lines of the training room. If they can’t see much (which is likely, considering she hasn’t heard many gasps or exclamations in a while) it’s likely Bakugou can’t either. And while she knows she can’t run away, it doesn’t mean she can’t-
Before she can change her mind, Jirou charges. From the strength of his explosions, Bakugou can only be a few feet away at the most, and it’s now or never, before he builds up enough sweat to blow her and her plan out of the arena- literally. She feels the shield collide with Bakugou and hears his oof of- no way was that surprise. Jirou grins to herself, pride blooming as she realises she just one upped the third best student in the class.
Although he doesn’t fall- how could he, the size of him- Bakugou does stagger slightly, giving Jirou the opportunity to snake her jack down to her boot, where her speakers wait. The smoke has cleared a little, giving her a clear shot of Momo pulling a pair of headphones, big enough to rival Present Mic’s, from her neck as she backs away from Kirishima. Grinning, Jirou pushes her jack into the speaker’s port.
The effect is immediate: Bakugou jumps out of his skin, collapsing to his knees with his arms around his head, all the while shooting Jirou a fearsome glare. Jirou smirks back. Meanwhile, Kirishima slams his hands over his ears, forgetting he hardened them and not his face, and hits the ground hard. Their classmates all follow Kirishima’s example (the hands-over-ears thing, not knocking themselves out thing) and Jirou can see their mouths moving as their complaints are blocked out by the sound of Bert McCracken screaming about his hatred of sunlight.
When Jirou finally unplugs her jack, Aizawa pulls his scarf down from his ears and clicks his stopwatch off. His eyes flick from Kirishima, knocked out on the floor, to Bakugou, whose glower could kill off a field of roses, to where Momo and Jirou stand together.
“I think it’s safe to say who won.” Aizawa says drily, and Jirou whoops, holding her palm up for Momo to slap unsurely with her own.
“Was that an upgrade on your boots?” Momo asks later in the changing room as she shrugs on her blazer, hair down from her usual ponytail. Jirou silently admires her long, dark layers, her stomach bubbling slightly with feelings she prefers not to think about, in case she embarrasses herself.
Jirou grins, patting her black boots fondly as she slips them back into their protective case. They’re everything she dreamed of when she was younger, and they certainly don’t disappoint.
“Yeah. I asked Hatsume to let me play CDs too, so all I have to do is stick one in, plug in my jack, and they play. Like I’m hitting a hidden on-switch. ” She seriously loves this upgrade. So so much.
“Why though?” Momo asks, flushing when Jirou glances up at her “I- I mean, isn’t projecting your heartbeat good enough?”
Jirou shrugs “Sure. But if I get bored on duty…” She flashes Momo a little smirk “That’s when the upgrade comes in handy.”
She tries to ignore the little bloom of pride she gets when Momo giggles.
Glancing away, Momo softly strokes the material of her costume, biting her lip. “My costume serves its purpose, but…It’s not the easiest to fight in. Or to be comfortable in, in general.”
“It does look uncomfortable to run in.” Jirou agrees, clenching her fists behind her back as she thinks of Mineta’s unconcealed glances, his unending harassment. How uncomfortable it must make Momo.
Momo nods slightly, her hair flopping in front of her face. “Maybe I should get it changed. But it will take so long for the entire costume to be remade, and my gym uniform makes using my quirk nearly impossible.”
“Maybe over summer.” Jirou suggests, an idea already forming in her mind.
When she gets home, the flat is empty as usual. Even so, Jirou finds herself sneaking into her mother’s room, delving deep under the bed while listening intently just in case her mum gets home early from work. She reaches, wiggles a little more, reaches again and- yes! Bit by bit, Jirou crawls back out, dragging with her the dusty box of their old sewing machine.
She hasn’t used it in years, but hopefully it’s something you don’t forget. Even if she’s never tried something like this before.
Now she’s got the machine, Jirou feels slightly more reassured in her plan. Before she can doubt herself again, she pulls out her phone, flicks through her contacts and sends a text. Then she half carries-half drags the machine into her room, intent on clearing a space on her desk for it to sit.
“Why’d you have to involve me?” Kaminari whines as Jirou drags him along the corridor to where the spare gym uniforms are kept. They’re skipping lunch for this- or rather, Jirou is making Kaminiari skip lunch for this- but she deems it more necessary than eating, just for today. And she’s brought herself a snack, for if they have enough time.
Jirou shuts him up quickly with a swift elbow to the ribs, peering around a corner to check if any of the teachers are around. Thankfully, it’s deserted.
“You said you wanted to get that rat bitch back, right?” Jirou says, turning the corner and walking towards a door at the end of the corridor. Kaminari nods. “Then this is the perfect way to do it. Win-win.”
Jirou tests the door, and finds it locked, as she expected. She pulls a hair grip from the collar of her blazer and pulls it apart, suddenly glad that most of her childhood was spent raiding the candy cupboard when her mum’s back was turned. Finally, those skills were coming in useful.
“How will a gym uniform help me get back at Mineta?” Kaminari asks as if the question just occurred to him, and Jirou rolls her eyes, too concentrated on picking the lock to answer. He’ll learn.
The door opens with a soft click, and Jirou opens it slowly “Just shut up and keep watch, ‘kay? I’ll be out in five seconds.”
“I’m screaming if you’re not.”
Ignoring him, Jirou begins to search through the piles until she digs up a shirt, jacket and pants in Momo’s size. She slips back around the door just as Cementoss comes around the corner, dragging his feet in his usual slow walk. Jirou freezes, knowing her arms are still full of stolen gym clothes. There’s no way she can get out of this one.
And for once, she thanks God for Kaminari.
“Hey, Aizawa-sensei will be pretty happy with us, huh, for fetching all that stuff he wanted, right? Maybe he’ll even pick up my grade!”
Jirou plays along, even throwing in a wave at Cementoss as they pass. Once they turn the corner, Kaminari collapses against the wall, his hand pressed to his chest.
“Holy shit, I think I’m gonna have a heart failure!”
The next day, Jirou’s eyes are red and her fingers hurt from stitching, but she’s finished. She walks into the classroom five minutes late- but still earlier than Aizawa- carrying her creation carefully, so she doesn’t tear the blue tissue paper.
“Here.” She says gruffly, dropping it on Momo’s desk. Momo glances up at her, confusion obvious, and Jirou tries to stop herself from blushing, with limited success.
“Is it your birthday, Yao-momo?” Uraraka asks, stopping to watch the exchange. Momo shakes her head, and Jirou is very sure she’s bright red. As if her crush couldn’t be more obvious.
“It’s just…Something we talked about.” Jirou says, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly. A crowd’s gathered around Momo’s desk now, and Jirou wishes she had been smart enough to arrive early to spare Momo the embarrassment.
Luckily, Aizawa choses this moment to unzip himself from his sleeping bag cocoon, barking at them to get to their seats. Catching Momo’s eye, Jirou shrugs, saying vaguely “It’s for gym class.” As she drifts to her seat, heart hammering in her chest. As soon as Aizawa turns his back, a note lands on her desk; Jirou unfolds it with shaking hands.
thats gay
-k
By break, everyone seems to have forgotten the parcel, giving Momo the chance to drag Jirou away so they can open it in peace. As Momo gently unfolds the layers of tissue, Jirou jitters nervously, more unsure of herself than ever.
She holds her breath as the modified uniform falls into Momo’s lap.
For a moment, they stay silent, sat together in the courtyard, until Momo finally looks up and into Jirou’s eyes.
“You got me…a gym uniform?”
“A modified gym uniform!” Jirou hurries to explain, tripping over her words “See, I cropped the the top so, y’know, you could still use your quirk, and I took it in like a running, um…thing, so it wouldn’t get in your way, and then I, like, made the pants into shorts so you had access to your skin even with the jacket on…” She pauses to catch her breath “It’s so…so you can get your costume modified into something you like better, without the inconvenience.”
Momo looks at Jirou, down to the new uniform, and back up to Jirou. Then her arms open up and she falls forward, and before Jirou knows it, Momo’s hugging her tightly. “Thank you.” She mumbles into Jirou’s ear, as Jirou awkwardly pats her on the back. Her heart is going crazy in her chest, and she really hopes Momo can’t hear it.
“Can’t…breathe…” Jirou manages to say, and Momo releases her instantly.
“I have to go and ask Aizawa-sensei if I can wear it!” She springs up and gathers the uniform into her arms.
“Maybe at lunch I can help you take your costume to the support office?” Jirou calls at Momo’s retreating back, and Momo replies with a smile and a nod over her shoulder.
Jirou watches her jog away, and her smile is so wide her face aches.
Omake
Later in hero training, Jirou overhears Mineta complaining about Momo’s sudden outfit change to an obviously uncomfortable Midoriya and puts in a formal request to go against him for the activity- purely, she argues, because she’s never tested her quirk against his before.
“Hey, Mineta.” Jirou calls just before they step into the square “It was me and Kaminari who got Momo her new outfit. So leave her alone, you rat-faced dickbag.”
As soon as they step into the square, Mineta charges her, seeming intent on taking Jirou down. Almost boredly, Jirou sends her jack into her boot, watching all her classmates covering their ears on instinct, and hits Mineta with a blast of Mindless Self Indulgence. For a while, she enjoys tormenting Mineta by turning off the music just long enough for him to stagger to his feet before blasting another verse of Get It Up, until she’s told firmly- but not without humour, she notes- to stop, because she’s obviously won. The request for her to refrain from playing MSI again on school grounds falls on deaf ears.
She walks back to her classmates, back to Momo, biting back a grin.