Chapter Text
If you walked U.A. High School’s halls, one thing would become increasingly obvious. Every trophy case, every poster, every announcement over the loudspeaker make it crystal clear. The school is only interested in promoting the sports and extracurriculars that offer it more sponsorships and money.
Which is understandable, for a public high school in the US. It doesn’t make sense to spread news about something that isn’t going to make the school more money, unless you want to encourage student’s passions. But again, public high school, so that doesn’t really happen.
U.A. primarily focuses on promoting their soccer, football, and baseball teams. They’re the ones who bring in the most cash, so they’re the ones who get first priority. That means that other groups, such as track and field, drama, etc, get pushed to the back and promptly forgotten. Nothing more than a bullet point on the list of possible extracurriculars.
Which leads to U.A.’s hockey team. A ragtag group of boys who meet every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday (except for Tokoyami, who has cello lessons) to strap on too-loose skates and wrestle with beat-up sticks on an ice rink that has seen much better days. At least they have their own time slot now, though. Last year they practiced at the same time as the figure skaters, which led to a lot of nasty altercations ending with the mentioning of “knife shoes” and “dickheads”.
But now the team practices from 3:30 until 5:30 in the community rink, and since it’s reserved no one can interrupt them. Well, almost no one.
“Hey guys!” There’s the someone. Ochako Uraraka, though not an official member of the team, was there for every single practice. Since there was no girl’s hockey team, she had no other choice than to ‘sit in’ on the boy’s. According to the school handbook, she wasn’t allowed to participate in official games or practice matches with other schools. That, however, didn’t stop her from showing up every afternoon to practice with the boys.
At first, they were hesitant to let her stay. After all, what was this girl wearing the pink skates going to do? Braid their hair?
That attitude changed when she hip checked Bakugou into next week, leaving him with a bruise so bad he swears he still feels it in his sleep. So they let her stay, out of admiration and, admittedly, fear. She eventually grew on all of them, so it was basically a win-win situation. Except, of course, when she’d blow her lid and start fighting with people.
The team greeted her as they each strapped on their own skates and equipment, each trying to shake off the long day they’d already had. But enough of this narrative crap- time to introduce the team, Present Mic style!
First (and he’s insistent on that) up is #45, Katsuki Bakugou. Right wing forward, Junior. He’s been playing hockey since he was a kid, and is as sharp as a tack when it comes to offensive maneuvers. The only things that combat his skills are his relationships with the other forwards, as well as some… other stuff. It’s complicated.
Next is #21, Shoto Todoroki. Left wing forward, Junior. An absolute machine at skating- it almost feels like he’s one with the ice, a god of the rink itself. But that facade quickly breaks as soon as he steps out of his skates. He’s a bit of a klutz, and struggles to not trip over his shoelaces. Along with his introverted and antisocial tendencies, he’s not exactly a team player at the moment.
Over there by the net is #92, Mezou Shouji. Goalie, Junior. He’s so good at defense that some think he has more than 2 arms! This is only his second year playing hockey, but he’s improving fast. Notice the helmet he’s wearing, much like the rest of the team? Yeah, the only difference between him and them is that when he’s off of the rink, he doesn’t really take it off. Half the team hasn’t ever seen him without it. It’s kind of a habit but also kind of a confidence thing.
Stretching out on the floor is #23, Hanta Sero. Left wing defense, Sophomore. Most people look at Sero and assume that he’d be better off on the soccer field, judging him by his wiry build and overall demeanor. But once he’s on the ice, there’s no stopping him. He can get around practically anybody, using momentum and different tricks he’s built over time. Unfortunately though, if he doesn’t pull his act together, he won’t be able to play at all. He’s flunking most of his classes, and if he gets two more F’s Aizawa won’t be able to let him practice at all.
Oh, yeah! A brief intermission from player intros to showcase the team’s coach- Shota Aizawa! He’s a no-nonsense kind of guy who used to play hockey back in college, and even got pretty high up in the national rankings before the funding for his team got cut. He’s currently the English teacher at U.A., and high-key regretting his life decisions that got him stuck in this cold community center three days a week. At least he’s getting paid.
Aizawa learned everything he knew from Yagi Toshinori, or as he was known as in Hockey Monthly, All Might. Toshinori was a highly successful hockey player in his hay-day, but had to retire early on because of intense respiratory issues. He now spends his days advising students at U.A., and sometimes dropping in on practices to see his favorite team in action and give pointers. Today’s not one of those days, though- just a standard practice.
The kid with huge-ass backpack is #60, Fumikage Tokoyami. Right wing defense, Sophomore. He’s got a head of hair so thick and dark that it almost looks like feathers from far enough away. This is his first year playing hockey, but he’s got natural talent that’s hard to find. Outside of the sport he’s a more quiet guy, mostly interested in music and poetry. But when you get him on the ice, it’s like a whole other side of him comes out. He had plenty of creative outlets, sure, but when he starts playing hockey it’s a complete other level of stress relief. Tokoyami deals with persistent panic attacks, and oftentimes the intensity of hockey subtracts from the pit in his stomach.
The last to introduce, but certainly not least, is #7, Izuku Midoriya! Center forward, Junior. Midoriya, like Bakugou, has been playing hockey since he was a kid. Unfortunately he had to stop once his asthma got worse (and developed into a severe case), but now that he’s been on treatment for a couple of years he’s back and better than ever. However, Bakugou got too used to being the better of the two of them, and now the friendship the two used to share has developed into a (mostly) one sided rivalry. Midoriya is incredibly motivated, but still suffers from asthma attacks, which can hinder his stamina. Luckily Aizawa communicated this to Toshinori, and he took Midoriya under his wing to do specific stamina training.
Midoriya and Bakugou were huge All Might fans when they were younger, in fact it’s what got both of them into hockey in the first place. So when Midoriya got the unique opportunity to be mentored by him, it only drove Bakugou and him further apart.
In fact, the rivalry got to the point where Bakugou didn't even want them to have jersey's because he knew Aizawa wouldn't give him #1. Midoriya didn't want #1, but also didn't want Bakugou to have it, for some reason that he didn't really understand himself. This eventually led to Aizawa just picked and assigning numbers at random from the jerseys they already had in the storage container. So the team was clad in mismatched and ill-fitting uniforms, but at least there weren't anymore fights about numbers (that day).
This group of chaotic teenagers were mostly playing just to play. Some of them didn’t want to go home right after school, while others felt the need to play in their very soul. They weren’t ready to be competitive in the slightest for a variety of reasons, the strongest being that they didn’t all trust each other yet. Which was a bit odd, considering that most of them had known each other since freshman year. But between budget cuts, lack of communication, and multiple physical fights, they just didn’t feel like they were meshing as a team. Sure, they had fun together and hung out a bit outside of school and club times, but in terms of group trust and bonds, they were severely lacking.
They had no idea how lacking they actually were, though, until there was a challenge thrown in their faces that they couldn’t refuse.