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“Ah, Midoriya, could I have a word?”
Izuku looks up from where he’s re-wrapping his knuckles, seeing Ojiro-kun shifting nervously in the doorway to the prep room. He smiles brightly, waving him in. “Sure! Come on in!” he says, before checking the clock and wincing. “Though, it’ll have to be quick, unless you want to walk and talk. I have to go out soon,” he apologizes.
Ojiro-kun’s eyes harden, mouth pressed in a thin line, and if Izuku didn’t already have three different ways to take him out stored in the back of his mind he’d be worried Ojiro-kun cornered him here to rough him up before the match (even though that was so against his psychological profile)—
“That boy, Shinsou.....he was on my team in the cavalry battle. Or....rather, I was on his,” he says, spitting Shinsou’s name like it was poison. Izuku starts to get a foreboding feeling in his chest when he sees the way Ojiro-kun’s fists start to tremble, his tail twitching slightly like it wants to start lashing in agitation.
“The cavalry battle you dropped out of the Sports Festival because of,” Izuku says. It isn’t a question, but Ojiro-kun nods anyway.
“It....It was his Quirk. It had to be, because the last thing I remember was him and then nothing until Midnight was calling it!” he spits, almost shaking with rage. Izuku’s stomach drops, though it’s quickly replaced by a familiar cold fury. “Listen, Midoriya, you can’t—” he starts, but Izuku’s heard enough. He slams his (now fully wrapped) hand on the table, palm flat, making a loud BANG as he stands up from his chair.
“Dangerous, or villainous?” he asks, voice dark. Ojiro blinks.
“W....What?” he manages. Izuku smiles, though it’s more like a baring of his teeth.
“His Quirk. Is it dangerous, or is it villainous? You know. Since you so kindly went out of your way to warn me,” he repeats, body almost trembling with the effort it takes to not start an unsanctioned fight right here in the prep room.
“Vil-I-I mean! It doesn’t matter, Midoriya! I’m just-!” Ojiro stutters, taken aback for just a second before regaining his composure. He’s trying to loom, how cute. Too bad Izuku is currently the scariest thing in the room, and got used to much scarier.
“Hm. Villainous, then. Alright, one more question, Ojiro,” he says, stalking forwards and watching as he stumbles back out of the doorway. “Did you warn me because you wanted me to win, or because you wanted him to lose?” Ojiro’s pupils turn almost to pinpricks as Izuku’s voice goes soft and dangerous, fear warring with anger in his expression. Izuku shakes his head, sighing. “Don’t bother answering, it’s pretty obvious. Still.....” He pauses as he walks down the hall, throwing a sharp glare over his shoulder. “.....you should reconsider your definition of honorable behavior, Ojiro.”
He doesn’t wait for a response. He has a match to get to.
--
“ALRIGHT EVERYONE, ARE YOU READY?! In this final round we’ve got a ROCKIN’ tournament bracket coming up! One on one matches, Quirks allowed, no holds barred! We got Recovery Girl on standby, so don’t be afraid to go PLUS ULTRA! That being said, this IS still just a sports festival, so! No maiming! No kill-shots! If it’s permanent, better think twice! Otherwise, anything goes! Now, off to the lovely Midnight for the rest of the rules on how this shindig works!”
“Ever the pleasure, Mic~! Rules are as follows! One! The white line on the concrete is the edge of the ring, if you cross this line, even with just the tiniest portion of your body, you’re out! Two! If you are pinned and cannot move as determined by myself or Cementoss, you’re out! Three! If you are knocked unconscious, you’re out! Any competitor who continues to attack after a match has been called will be disqualified and their opponent, unless determined too injured to continue, will move on by default! Surrenders are allowed, and must be honored! Any naughty competitors breaking these rules will find themselves in a world of hurt!”
“What a BLOOD-PUMPING introduction! Now for our first competitor of the afternoon, we’ve got the dark horse from General Course class 1-C, Shinsou Hitoshi! We haven’t seen this underdog stand out much this year, but he’s really come up from behind, wouldn’t you say Eraser?”
“.........He’s made it through with help at his back. Let’s see how he fares on his own.”
“Succinct as always! On the other side we’ve got the sunshine powerhouse from Hero Course class 1-A, Midoriya Izuku! Hey, isn’t this feral greenbean in your homeroom? What do you think of his chances?”
“You shouldn’t call students feral, Mic. Though in Midoriya’s case.....it may not be an inaccurate assessment. From what I’ve seen, he fights like he has nothing to lose and everything to prove.”
“You think Shinsou’s got a shot here?”
“......Hard to say. Depends on who wants it more, I suppose.”
“RIGHT ON! Now kids, ARE! YOU! READY!”
--
Izuku can barely hear himself think over Mic’s yelling and the roar of the crowd. He’s still pissed about what Ojiro attempted, but he does know that he needs to analyze Shinsou’s Quirk, and fast. He’s a little nervous with the way the other’s scowling at him from across the concrete pad, and he habitually avoids eye contact, staring instead at a spot just between his eyebrows. It’s a fun little trick Taichan taught him, when—“Oi. You gonna fight, or are you just gonna stare at me all day?”
‘Shit! Memories later, fight now!’ Izuku narrows his eyes, focusing on Shinsou’s form. He’s tense, but not really in a way that suggests he’s ready to move. More like he’s just.....tense. Hostility radiates from every inch of his stance, though he tries to hide it with a relaxed, lazy air. ‘He hasn’t approached, not touch-activated? Mental? Hands in his pockets, so not five-point like Shigaraki or Occhan, but—‘
“Hey! Can’t you hear I’m talking to you?!” Shinsou snarls, glaring at him from across the ring and snapping him out of his thoughts. “What, you so fucking confident that you’re gonna win that you’ll just stand there instead of trying to beat me?” he scoffs. “Bet you got a real fancy Quirk, huh hero?” Izuku twitches slightly, eyes narrowing. He grits his teeth, but before he can respond (with what, he isn’t sure), Shinsou’s talking again. “Oh, hit a nerve? What, you don’t like it? Bet it’s something like strength enhancement, useful but not too flashy, right?” he taunts. “Or maybe, you’re just so goddamn arrogant that you’ve been coasting through the events without using it at all! You’re just skating by without your heroic-class Quirk for a laugh, while the rest of us peons have to spit and struggle to even get a chance at the stage, is that it?!”
Izuku snaps. It’s not as bad as that one time with Katsuki, but he still...... snaps. Because here’s this fucking asshole standing halfway across the stage, not even making an attempt at fighting, while he’s out here trying to determine his opponent’s natural evolutionary advantage because he doesn’t fucking have one! And Shinsou has the gall to call him arrogant for that?!
His anger crystallizes, sharpening his focus into a diamond-point until all he sees is Shinsou and the edge of the ring. He blasts forward, ducks the sloppy punch, and grabs the other around the middle. He flips him ass over teakettle, only making sure his head didn’t crack on the ground before he was on him again. Shinsou’s still snarling, spitting out blood and vitriol in equal measure, but Izuku isn’t listening anymore. He’s got Shinsou right where he wants him, directly in the center of the ring, no chance of this lesson ending early via accidental ring-out.
He takes a few clumsy punches to the gut as he attempts to wrestle Shinsou into a hammerlock, but honestly they barely hurt and he’s felt worse in middle school. Before he started training. Izuku keeps taking hits and scrabbling for a grip until the last thing out of Shinsou’s mouth is a wordless scream of rage, punctuated by a blow to the chest.
Gotcha.
He strikes, flipping Shinsou and pinning one of his arms to the ground with his knee, the other shoved roughly against his back in a way that will definitely become uncomfortable in about five minutes or so. “You wanted to know my Quirk?” he hisses in Shinsou’s ear.
He coughs, glaring up at him, which is honestly kind of impressive given the angle he’s smushed into the ground at. “What, so you can— ghhk!” he starts, only to be cut off by a grunt of pain as Izuku shoves his arm a bit.
“Ah-ah, Shinsou, it’s my turn with the talking stick,” he admonishes. “Little rude, isn’t it? To be asking so many questions, but not giving away anything yourself? Unless, that’s what you need?” he croons, a feral (so Mic may have had a point, sue him) grin stretching across his face when Shinsou stiffens underneath him. “Your Quirk is some sort of mental-based control, isn’t it? Probably verbally activated, requires a response, specifically to a question? Verbalizations that aren’t words don’t count, or you would’ve had me by now,” he muses, weaponizing his on-the-fly analysis as Shinsou grows even more still beneath him. He’s starting to feel a little bit sorry, but he’s still mad, so actually not that sorry.
“Before you ask, Ojiro didn’t tell me. Tail-boy, if you were wondering,” he clarified. “Oh, don’t get me wrong, he tried. Wanted to warn me, acted all worried, but I saw right through his shit,” Izuku sneered, eyes flashing. Midnight approached, looking worried, but Shinsou glared at her and she paused before backing off, eyebrow raised. “No, I figured you out all on my own. You didn’t even try to hit me, just sat there running your mouth for three fucking minutes. Do you have any idea how many times I could’ve knocked you on your ass during your little speech?! Too goddamn many!” he seethed. “But I wanted to give you a chance, because I figured there had to be something you were fighting for, in order for a Gen-Ed student to make it this far! I was waiting for you to get off your ass and do something, but you just talked!”
“And what the fuck was I supposed to do, hah?! I’m not in the hero course, we don’t get fancy training!” Shinsou snarled from below him. Izuku let the question go, because at this point he could tell Shinsou’s mind wasn’t actually on his Quirk at the moment.
“You think I did before UA?! Newsflash asshole, I trained myself by cleaning a fucking dumpsite and fighting a delinquent every afternoon! They don’t let people like me into gyms, I had to get creative!” he raged back, tightening his grip.
Shinsou winced, but covered it with a derisive scoff. “What, too scared your fucking freak-ass strength enhancer would—”
“I don’t have a strength enhancer! I’m [baseline], dumbass!” Shinsou’s quiet for a moment, confusion practically wafting off of him. Izuku scoffs, shaking his head. “It’s the English word for Quirkless. My strength, my speed, all of that? It’s all my own goddamn effort. I understand you’ve been put down because of something you can’t control Shinsou, and that’s garbage. Quirks aren’t villainous, how people use them is. You didn’t deserve that, and I’m sorry. But......”
He stands up, hefting Shinsou’s still stunned form over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. Shinsou startles and starts thrashing like a caught fish, but he’s a fucking twig and Izuku easily ignores it. “.....honestly? People like you, who live life thinking everything is about Quirks, thinking that anything extraordinary has to be because of a Quirk?” He scoffs, pausing just before the edge of the ring. “It just pisses me off.”
“.......Winner, MIDORIYA!”