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Izuku is surprised to see Kacchan guarding the flag. It’s uncharacteristic. Back at the camp he’d assumed he’d be the one blasting through the trees toward victory, but that’s him, standing with his arms crossed, Sero by his side.
Scattered around the rock the flag’s perched on is a maze of criss-crossed tape, the sticky-side up like a barrier. Kacchan’s stance is wide over a few strands, eyes hiding his expression like a red curtain, and, in the dying rays of a brilliant sun, he’s gorgeous. Strong and stoic: Ground Zero.
“I didn’t expect him here,” Tsuyu mutters below him, wrapped around the tree in true frog-fashion. Izuku glances at her through his knees. Taking to the treetops hadn’t been his idea, but Tsuyu was right; the vantage point and view are fantastic.
“Me neither,” he admits sheepishly. “But I’m pretty sure he knows that.”
This was Kacchan, after all. The second he realised Izuku could predict him he changed strategies, changed stances, changed
everything
. His adaptability isn’t his best quality, but it’s the one Izuku finds himself admiring the most.
Izuku moves again, leaving the safety of the trunk to balance on a branch precariously. “We’ll stick to the plan. If Kacchan’s here, we still have a chance at winning.”
He doesn’t have to look to know Tsuyu’s nodding. With a rustle of leaves, she jumps, hopping through the thickening foliage to the other side of the treeline. Kacchan’s presence is, admittedly, a slight dent in his strategy, but nothing Izuku can’t work around. Actually, this works in their favour.
They’re both sore losers, but Izuku’s getting sorer lately. He’s going to win this even if it kills him.
Tsuyu’s signal is the exaggerated swaying of one of the treetops, then the next, and the next in a chain reaction. Sero’s head snaps around and he digs one of his massive elbows into Kacchan’s side. Kacchan's expression narrows, head whipping around too, but the second Sero goes to move, he grabs his arm. Izuku’s heart stops as he swears those magnificent eyes stare right at him, through him.
Shit.
His head jerks up just in time to see an eagle soar overhead, followed by an ear-splitting shriek that fills the heavy forest air. Kouda had been tracking them from the start, and it’s something Izuku had been careless enough to miss whilst distracted by the immeasurable existence of Kacchan’s profile.
Double shit.
He springs off the branch like a cat just as the wood explodes beneath his feet in a display of fire and smoke, twisting midair with his arms outstretched. His reaction is the only thing that stops Kacchan from barrelling into him with the force of a freight train. It throws Izuku off by at least ten feet and, although he lands in a crouch, he's in the middle of the clearing, surrounded by masses upon masses of white tape.
Kacchan lands nearby, palms smouldering, expression dark, and a wicked smile. Izuku’s chest squeezes. “Thought you could outsmart me, nerd?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he bites back, noting Sero’s absence. Hopefully he’s in pursuit of Tsuyu and not on the way to their own flag. Kirishima is strong and excellent defence, but against someone as nimble as Sero?
He has to finish this, fast.
The flag’s behind Kacchan, crudely painted orange-black in Ground Zero’s colours on one side and UA’s emblem the other, flapping in the breeze. Running forward would be a trap with so much tape spread around, so he does the next best thing: he jumps.
Kacchan’s palm immediately comes up in a wide arc, an explosion rocketing a path of destruction that Izuku has to rotate to avoid, landing on his tiptoes. His next jump brings him closer, an electric current buzzing beneath his skin and through the tips of his fingers as he stretches them to send his own blast. It clears the smoke and reveals the flag, but no Kacchan.
Triple shit.
Izuku knows it’s too late, but he still springs forward, which is enough for his fingertips to graze the rock and the fabric of the pole. But then a fist connects with his jaw and sends him sprawling across the tape. Suddenly he's wrapped in discoloured white and Kacchan is on him like a lion on prey.
They roll across the grass, shouting and swearing in a maelstrom of language that tumbles from Izuku’s lips as he thrashes and hits whatever part of Kacchan he can. The tape is getting everywhere , but by the time Kacchan has him pinned with his back to the ground and blood trickling down his face, a voice booms: “Ladies and gentlefolk! Kids and listeners! Team Deku wins!”
“What?!” Kacchan’s head whips around to the flag and, sure enough, in its place is Tsuyu, crouched on the rock with a sliver of orange-black in her fist. Behind her is Sero, wrapped in a dozen loops by her tongue. Izuku grins.
“Did you underestimate me, Kacchan?” He laughs, chest throbbing as Kacchan’s expression flicks between shocked and pissed, that curtain gone. Those red eyes snap down, filled with the anger of a thousand flames.
“You cheatin’ little bastard--”
Izuku’s delighted, even as Kacchan shoves him hard against the dirt with a snarl and goes to stand. Izuku just shakes himself off and grabs the tape linking them, throwing it around Kacchan’s neck and bringing their lips together in a huffy, exhausted kiss.
Kacchan tries to pull away at first, jaw clenched and throat growling with a thousand words that he can’t say with his mouth occupied, but eventually his posture relaxes. Soon, he’s kissing back, bringing Izuku closer with a rough jerk of his waist.
“Aw, man, I can’t believe I missed all the fun!” Comes Kirishima’s voice somewhere behind them, and Izuku has to break them apart to snort out a laugh. He tilts his head back to see Kirishima emerging from the treeline, a flag of emerald green and grey in his hands.
“Nah, you just missed a tantrum.” Then he laughs even harder when he’s shoved into the dirt again.
