Work Text:
denki: yooooo guys i got something fun for us to do
mina: u say fun but
denki: lets do the one chip challenge
hanta: kaminari no
denki: kaminari YES
katsuki: wtf no those are so expensive just for one fucking chip
denki: well uhhhh,,,,
mina: omg did u buy em already????
katsuki: wait can you even get those here
denki: don’t worry about it
eijiro: dude I told u to stay off ebay
denki: ARE U GUYS GONNA DO THIS WITH ME OR NOT
mina: YAAAS
mina: YOLOOOO
hanta: except in this case yolo is an actual warning lmao
denki: okay so we’ll all meet in the common room tomorrow night
mina: o7
denki: ……………………
denki: GUYS??????????????
The five of them sat on the rough carpeted floor of their dorm’s common room, surrounding the table on which five small, red, coffin-shaped boxes had been carefully placed. The boxes were still sealed, yet they were regarded with fearful, suspicious eyes, as if just their proximity to the chips inside was dangerous enough.
Jirou was sitting on the couch behind Kaminari, her knees drawn up and cellphone out. When Ashido had told her what he’d proposed to their group, Jirou immediately volunteered to tag along and record the experience, unwilling to pass up an opportunity to see her boyfriend completely wreck himself. Not that those opportunities weren’t plentiful already, but this was on another level entirely.
A few moments passed. Nobody spoke. The weather was comfortably warm, and the light fabric and short sleeves of their sleep clothes would have been sufficient on any other night; however, sitting in the breezy common room, a few members of the Bakusquad were already starting to break out in a cold sweat. Sero trembled slightly.
Out of all of them, Bakugo was the only one who looked almost bored. “So are we fucking doing this or what? Otherwise I’m going to bed.”
Kaminari breathed deeply through his nostrils. “Okay, okay, we’re gonna do this.” He reached out and took one of the red boxes; everyone followed suit.
As he popped open the flap, Jirou piped up, “Hey, did you guys remember the drinks and stuff?”
Ashido sprang up from the floor. “Oh shoot, that’s right! Hang on, guys.” She did a tip-toeing sprint out of the common room, and a couple minutes later returned with a carton of milk in her hands. Hanging off her wrist, she had a plastic bag filled with bread, a pint of ice cream, some spoons, and a stack of plastic cups.
“Hopefully this’ll work,” Sero said, eyeing the food as Ashido arranged it on the table.
“Alright you guys, we can totally fucking do this, okay?” Kirishima pumped a hardened fist in the air. “I believe in us!”
“Go team!” Ashido and Kaminari joined in Kirishima’s fist pumps, and Sero reluctantly followed. Bakugo rolled his eyes.
“Are you guys ready? I’m gonna start recording.” Jirou snapped a few pics of the group’s little hype session, but before she could start filming they heard the doors behind them swing open, and Uraraka, Midoriya, and Todoroki filed in, each carrying a small bag or two, indicating they had just come from the convenience store. They halted abruptly and stared at the group sitting on the floor. The group sitting on the floor stared back.
Kirishima raised a hand in greeting. “Sup.”
Uraraka passed Midoriya her bags and rushed over to the table. “Oh my god, are those the spicy chip things?” She dropped to her knees and put her arms around Ashido. “Minaaaa,” she wailed dramatically into her pink shoulder, “are you really going to do this?”
Ashido laughed and patted Uraraka’s back. “It’ll be fine! I’m the queen of spicy.” Her dark eyes gleamed as she flashed the group a confident grin. Midoriya and Todoroki quietly set their bags down and joined Jirou on the couch, curiosity too strong to ignore.
Kirishima raised his shoulders dubiously. “Honestly guys, I think Bakugo’s probably going to hand our asses to us. You guys ever seen how much chili oil he puts when he gets mapo tofu? Like, half a jar. No joke.”
Uraraka whipped her head around to gape at Bakugo in disbelief. He grinned triumphantly, all teeth.
“What?!” Kaminari shrieked, looking as though Bakugo had just shot him through the heart. “Are you serious?! Who does that?!”
“There’s no way I can compete with that!” Ashido complained.
Bakugo folded his arms and leaned back against the couch. “Your point is?”
“Damn, dude, that’s low,” Sero groaned, shutting his eyes.
Bakugo clicked his tongue dismissively. “Look, I already know I can crush all you idiots when it comes to spicy stuff, no contest.” He grabbed a box off the table and waggled it between his fingers. “This? This is a fuckin’ snack. I’m just here to watch the rest of you destroy your own assholes.”
Uraraka turned to Midoriya, her eyebrows pinched together with worry. “Deku, say something! I feel like this a bad idea.”
Midoriya opened his mouth, but Todoroki raised an arm out in front of him, cutting him off before he had the chance to say anything.
“Let them do it,” he interrupted calmly.
“But Todoroki, what about their assholes?” Uraraka protested earnestly, and Jirou and Ashido immediately shrieked with laughter.
“Lessons are best learned through mistakes,” he replied, conveniently leaving out how he really just wanted to see his classmates make complete dumbasses of themselves. Uraraka looked pleadingly at Midoriya.
In response, Midoriya got his phone out and started tapping out a Google search. “I wouldn’t worry about it, Uraraka,” he said, trying to reassure her in his usual, sweet way. “I mean, I’ve never heard of anyone like, dying from it. If you were going to eat the pepper itself, though, that would be a totally different story.” He began descending into mumbles as his thumb scrolled up and his eyes darted back and forth across the screen. “The heat from the pepper itself is so strong that it can cause a stress response from the body, like—look at this, this guy who experienced acute headaches after eating a whole Carolina Reaper, or this guy who started convulsing a—”
“Okay, you’re not helping,” Sero interrupted.
Midoriya looked up from his phone. “Like I said,” he repeated, “I think it should be fine! It’s just probably going to, uh, hurt.”
A somber chill fell over the room as everyone silently regarded the boxes on the table as one might regard a wild animal; respectfully, but with the knowledge that it could completely destroy your anus.
“Alright kids, I’m recording,” Jirou announced, holding up her phone. “Let’s do this.” She took the time to pan it around the room, giving everyone a moment of introduction as it passed. Todoroki, seated next to her, set off a little flame in his palm, then Midoriya, next to him, gave a small wave with both his hands. Uraraka, who had finally detached herself from Ashido and was seated on the floor between her and Bakugo, reluctantly flashed a peace sign pressed against the side of her cheek. Bakugo stuck up his middle finger. Sero mimed reaching out towards the phone as it passed onto Kirishima, who took the opportunity to give the camera a quick, self-indulgent flex. Once she’d filmed everyone else, Jirou leaned forward so she was pressed against the back of Kaminari’s head, who was still sitting on the floor below her. With both earphone jacks encircling the phone, she extended them out in front of her to get both herself and Kaminari in the frame.
“Good luck, Pikachu,” she said, resting her head on top of his. “If you don’t make it, I’ll tell your parents you died running laps during gym or something.”
Kaminari wilted beneath her. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’m putting my life on the line here!”
Jirou laughed and sat back up, letting the phone drop from her jacks into her waiting palm. “Geez, you're dramatic. Besides, this was your idea, remember?”
Kaminari reflected on this momentarily. “You got me there,” he conceded.
“Guys, I’m goin’ in,” Kirishima said, taking it upon himself to grab the first box and tear it open. Inside was one sealed wrapper containing one whole chip. Everyone watched as he gingerly split the wrapper to reveal a reddish-orange but otherwise plain-looking tortilla chip. He carefully brought it to his nose and sniffed it, then shrugged. “Meh,” came the verdict.
Everyone else followed suit, and soon there were five chips being held out precariously between thumbs and forefingers, each student eyeing one another, waiting for a countdown to start so they would all suffer at the same time. By now Sero’s entire body was shaking. A bead of sweat ran down Kirishima’s face. Kaminari involuntarily whimpered and Ashido had a death grip on Uraraka’s hand.
“Fuck’s sake, okay, threetwoonego.” Bakugo counted down with no fanfare whatsoever and shoved the chip in his mouth. There was no time for anyone else to second guess what they were about to do and with a multitude of protesting whines, the rest of the Bakusquad went to crunch town.
For some moments, the only sound came from the muted chewing of chips within closed mouths. The four non-participants watched, not really sure what they were waiting for, but their bodies seemed to involuntarily tense up nonetheless.
Bakugo was the first one done. He swallowed the chip and opened his mouth, stuck out his tongue as proof that he’d finished it. “Tastes like crap,” he muttered. His cheeks and the tips of his ears were slightly pink, but otherwise he showed no signs that the spicy, rectum-annihilating pepper had had any effect on him. He reached over Uraraka’s lap and grabbed the milk and poured himself a cup.
“So was it spicy?” she asked, pointing to the milk.
Bakugo drained the cup and shook his head. “Just tryin’ to get the nasty t—”
And then the coughing started. The four bystanders had been so distracted by Bakugo, they didn’t notice the rest of the squad had quickly fallen apart.
Sero was bracing his hands on his knees, staring down at the ground and wiping his nose every few seconds. Kirishima was gritting his teeth, gripping his shorts tight as he tried to stave off the creeping, searing heat from the chip. Kaminari was wheezing quietly as all manner of fluids ran down his face. Ashido was fanning herself and shaking her head; bits of wet, pink hair clung to her skin.
“I’m going to kill you,” Kirishima panted as he stared up at the ceiling, eyes watering. “I’m going to kill you, Kaminari.”
“Dude, you never said no!” Kaminari choked out. “Why didn’t anyone stop me? Fuck, this was a bad idea!”
“I mean I did say…” Midoriya trailed off, realizing nobody was listening to him. He looked to Todoroki, who shrugged apologetically.
Jirou leaned over to catch a glimpse of Kaminari’s face and burst out laughing at the sight of his flushed cheeks, snot and sweat and tears dripping everywhere. The shutter snapping coming from her phone didn’t improve his mood.
“It’s not funny!” he sobbed, reaching for the milk and pouring himself a cup. He downed it immediately and groaned. “I think I’m actually dying!”
“My entire body literally feels like it’s on fire,” Ashido moaned, shoving a scoop of ice cream in her mouth as Uraraka did her best to fan her friend. She turned her head to the side and thrust her arms out towards Todoroki, making grabbing motions with her hands. “Todoroki, I need your body.” On the other side of the table, Kirishima choked on some phlegm.
“It’s your own fault,” Todoroki responded coolly, which was a hilarious pun that none of the characters in the story were able to appreciate.
“Please? Just the cold side!”
“No,” he argued, albeit weakly, because Ashido still scrambled up next to him on the couch and hugged his right side with hardly a struggle. Resigning himself to his fate rather easily, his skin soon turned pale and firm as he coated his arm with a thin layer of ice. Ashido sighed contentedly.
Bakugo snorted, looking for all the world like he’d been eating nothing more than a piece of candy less than five minutes ago. “What the hell happened to ‘learning a lesson’?” he asked, mimicking the boy’s serious tone.
Todoroki looked down at his feet. “I…felt bad,” he admitted.
At some point, Sero had taken off his shirt and laid down, fanning himself with it. “Someone gimme bread,” he gasped. Midoriya reached over and pulled a piece of bread from the bag on the table and tossed it in Sero’s direction. It landed on his stomach with a quiet thup. Sero crammed the bread in his mouth and let it sit there, hoping that with enough time the starch would just suck everything out of his mouth, pepper included. It didn’t.
Kirishima too had lost his shirt, and had now commandeered the ice cream, alternating between eating it and pressing the pint to his cheeks and neck. “I’m in literal hell,” he moaned around a mouthful of quickly melting ice cream. “Ashido, get off of Icyhot, I want a turn.”
In response to this, Ashido tightened her grip around Todoroki’s arm. “No way! Get your own.” Kirishima whined pathetically.
“On second thought, I’ll take your left side,” Sero piped up from the floor. “Just burn off all the skin in my mouth so I never have to feel anything again.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Midoriya said.
“Do you have a better idea?” Sero shot back, uncharacteristically cranky with pain.
Midoriya looked up thoughtfully. “More bread?”
Sero considered. “Sure, hit me.”
Midoriya tossed two more slices of bread to Sero, who immediately shoved them both in his mouth. After a few moments, however, he shook his head. “It’s not working,” he whined, though with the bread still in his mouth, it just sounded like “mmh mmh mhh.”
Midoriya frowned. “Damn, I really thought more bread would work,” he muttered to himself.
The torture dragged on for another fifteen minutes or so, the squad’s agonized wails devolving into pathetic whines, and lastly to exhausted sighs, like the souls of the damned finally being laid to rest. The prickly, numbing heat still lingered long after the pain had subsided, and the next hour was spent complaining and swearing to Kaminari that he was never allowed to watch Youtube anymore.
Outside, hazy dusk was settling, and curfew approached. Kirishima had fallen asleep at some point, his shirt draped over his eyes and his mouth wide open, lips still slightly pinker than usual. The four other participants had all left to take cold showers and go to bed, terrified of what havoc any midnight bathroom breaks might wreak.
“We probably shouldn’t leave Kirishima here,” Uraraka commented. She, Midoriya, and Todoroki were the last stragglers, bunched up together on the same couch, flipping mindlessly through social media and random news feeds.
“Yeah, we should probably get to bed too, I guess,” Midoriya agreed with a yawn, ambling off the couch in a sleepy state. “I can take him back to his room.” With a little grunt, he hoisted Kirishima onto his back and headed towards the stairway. “See you guys tomorrow,” he whispered.
Uraraka waved to him sleepily with both hands, and Todoroki called out a “see ya” without looking up from his phone. They two soon parted ways as well, and the common rooms were silent again.
Meanwhile, still not quite tired enough to sleep, Jirou and Kaminari had gotten to huddling beneath Jirou’s comforter, watching a local band’s gig she’d recorded last weekend on her phone. Leaning against one another, a pair of earbuds shared between them, all that could be seen in the room was a soft glow from under the bedsheets.
Halfway through the performance, Kaminari wriggled an arm free and snaked it around Jirou’s waist, pulling her close to face him. “Hey,” he smiled, looking almost charming enough that Jirou nearly forgot that only a couple hours earlier, that same face had been red and gushing snot and perspiration. He leaned forward to kiss her, but instead of her lips, he was met with an open palm that kept his mouth at bay.
“Do not,” she warned, “get anywhere near me with that thing for at least a week.” Kaminari whined into her hand.
“Oh come on, that’s not fair! I’m not spicy anymore, I swear.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t trust you.” She slid her hand down to cup his chin and kissed his forehead instead. “I hope you learned a lesson today.”
Kaminari chewed his lip thoughtfully. “Don’t challenge Bakugo with anything spicy.”
“Well, you’re not wrong. And?”
“Bread definitely doesn’t work.”
“Denki.”
Kaminari sighed. “Fine, no more impulse buys. I guess. Geez, you’re no fun.” This earned him a stab in the cheek with an earphone jack. “And violent!”
Jirou smirked. “I’ll remember that next time I’m watching you crying on the floor in pain. Now come here, my favorite song is next.”
She pulled him back to her side and hit play.