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“OK, I'm ready for another round!”
Kyoka looked up at Kaminari and smirked. He had that stupid grin on his face, looking more confident than half an hour ago. (And kind of cute, not that she’d ever tell him.) “What are you, a masochist? I think I’ve lost count of how many times I beat your ass.”
Beside him, Sero snickered. Kaminari shot him a glare, and without a word, he pulled the chair across from her and sat down. He placed his elbow on the desk with his hand aimed towards her in an unspoken challenge.
Well, Kyoka was never one to back down from a challenge, even one as stupid as this. She placed her elbow on the desk and grasped his hand. An unbidden heat rose to her face, one she quickly quelled.
“Alright, everyone, attention please!” shouted Mina, their self-appointed announcer. “This is round forty-three of Kaminari Getting Wrecked By Jirou at Arm Wrestling, or Kaminari Gets Rekt for short. Here we have our reigning champion, Jirou Kyoka!” As Mina gestured towards her, a cheer rose up from their classmates, leaving Kyoka feeling kind of embarrassed. She rolled her eyes fondly at their antics. Mina gestured to Kaminari and continued, “And here we have our reigning loser, Kaminari what's-his-name.”
Kyoka and some of her classmates chuckled at Kaminari's indignant expression and following complaints. Mina ignored him and clapped twice. “Get ready you two! On three. One.”
Kyoka locked eyes with her competitor and smirked.
“Two.”
He smirked back and squeezed her hand. Oh, I am SO gonna wreck him.
“Three!”
She immediately pushed against his hand as hard as she could, and was pleased to see that she was winning by about forty-five degrees. The struggle began, and Kyoka found herself surprised that Kaminari was managing to force her back, even if it was just a bit.
Glancing up, she could see intense focus on his face, as well as exertion. She put on a burst of strength and saw him grit his teeth. At this point, it was a matter of endurance, and if she could manage this amount of strength for a minute more then he'll give in.
Kaminari, seemingly feeling her eyes on him, glanced up. She smiled in what she hoped was a victorious way.
She felt his hand lax and used this moment of weakness to slam his hand to the table. He squeaked and let out a big “OW!” Their friends circled the table and cheered, but she focused on him, brows furrowed. “Kaminari, I'm sorry, did I hurt you?”
He shook his head and shot her a smile. “Nah, just my ego.” As he massaged his hand, he stuck out his tongue at her.
Any guilt she had dissipated. One of her ear jacks jabbed his other arm, earning another “ouch!”.
“Aaand that wraps up round forty-three,” Mina concluded. She lightly punched Kaminari's shoulder. “Congrats on losing for the forty-third time in a row!”
He shook his head with mock sadness. “And I thought we were friends.”
Despite the loss, however, Kaminari looked happy, like he was the winner instead. He had had the same expression after every match of theirs, leaving her slightly confused. She'd brushed it off, but after forty-three arm wrestling matches, her curiosity (and annoyance at not knowing why) had grown.
She resolved to ask later, since they were both on dinner duty that day.
“Well, this isn’t too bad,” Kaminari said, covered in flour and elbow-deep in eggs and oil.
They were making curry.
Supposed to, anyway. Kyoka wished she was partnered up with someone competent at cooking. It was a bit of a disaster when the two of them didn't know what they were doing. Sure, she could make scrambled eggs and boil water but hell, she wasn't like Bakugo or Satou.
“You know what, Kaminari,” she said, inching away from him and his mess, “How ‘bout you make the. . .whatever it is you're making–”
“It was gonna be some sort of dessert, but I think I'll try making bread out of it instead.”
“–sure, that, and I'll deal with the actual curry. Following this recipe word for word.” She stared at the daunting step-by-step recipe Bakugo wrote in their class recipe book. It was very detailed and helpful, but also littered with curses and threats which were both entertaining and stressful.
It took half an hour before they actually made some progress. Kind of shoddy, but still, nothing was burnt (so far) and it looked to be edible. Kaminari was also surprisingly successful in making the bread, which was now baking in the oven. At the moment, he was washing up the utensils he used so he can start cooking the rice.
Kyoka herself was wrapping up making the curry. Surprising herself, the hardest part in all of this was the amount. Class 1-A was big and full of big eaters, so she made sure to make plenty.
“This was fun, right Jirou?” She could hear the smile in his voice, and rolled her eyes with a smile of her own. “If cleaning up after your messes counts as fun, then yeah, I had lots of it.”
He chuckled, then glanced at the sink. Giving her a cheeky grin, he grabbed a handful of foam and flung it at her. Kyoka gaped at him, and he had the audacity to laugh.
If that’s how it is. . .
Kyoka grabbed a handful of potato peelings, relishing in Kaminari’s fearful expression, and then in a few quick steps shoved them in the back of his shirt. He yelped and scrambled to get them out. She giggled, then gasped as she felt a splash of water on her face.
They locked eyes, then broke out into laughter. It was cut short, though, when they smelled the smoke. Kyoka jumped to the stove and quickly turned it off. For the next minute, the two of them fanned the smoke away from the smoke detector.
She glanced at Kaminari, who was just as wide-eyed as her, and they burst into chuckles once more.
He grinned at her. “That was close. We almost burned down the kitchen. Sorry, I mean you almost burned down the kitchen,” he added cheekily.
“Ugh. You’re gonna hold this over my head, aren’t you?”
“Yup, especially ‘cause of the -shoving-potato-peels-down-my-shirt thing. I know potatoes conduct electricity, but c’mon!”
She raised a playful eyebrow. “Hah, I didn’t know you were smart enough to know that.”
“Hey, I passed fourth grade just like you.”
“At least you passed something. And anyways, I always beat you at arm wrestling, so~”
“I don’t think almost burning down a kitchen is equivalent to losing an arm wrestling competition”
She poked his chest. “Forty-three rounds, actually, and they were all lost so pathetically it must count. I mean, take the latest one for example– it’s like you just gave up mid-fight.”
The pout on his face was just too cute. “I lost focus, ok!” he said, very defensively Kyoka might add.
She scoffed. “Yeah, right. You were the most focused I've ever seen you.”
He shrugged, turning back towards the sink. He said in a joking tone, “You're very distracting, you know.”
It was like her heart stopped beating for a second, then jump-started at twice the speed. She cursed herself for reacting this way; he meant nothing by it. He didn’t, he never did– he just flirted like it was second nature.
She needed to change the subject. Feeling very grateful he was facing away from her, Kyoka cleared her throat, then asked, “Why did you start challenging me to arm wrestling competitions, anyway? Not that I don’t like them or anything, but it’s kind of random how you just asked me a month ago and just—kept asking.”
Kyoka watched curiously as Kaminari seemed to get tenser and more engrossed in the cleaning. After a moment, he shrugged. “I just felt like it, I guess.”
For some reason, she got the vibe that he was embarrassed, which just cranked up her resolve to find out what he was hiding to eleven. “Any reason in particular?” she prodded.
He stayed silent for another minute, like he was having a fight with himself. She held her breath and she waited.
Finally, he turned to her, and she felt a shock of surprise at how red his face had gotten. He didn’t quite meet her eyes as he spoke. “I know it’s stupid, so don’t rag on me too much, but. . .” He mumbled the last bit.
“What?”
“When we’re arm wrestling, it’s like we’re holding hands.”
“Um, Jirou? Still there?” She felt a poke in her shoulder and her eyes refocused on Kaminari’s nervous face. Her expression didn’t change, though; the look she was giving him was so blank she could’ve been mistaken for a sheet of printer paper.
“. . .you’re not gonna say anything?”
With a raised brow, she broke her silence, “I don’t know what you want me to say. Honestly, this might just be the stupidest thing I have ever heard– and I hang out with you on a daily basis. Like, C’MON!” She couldn’t help but laugh. “That must be the most convoluted excuse to hold someone’s hand ever.”
He was starting to look quite sheepish, but she wasn’t done teasing him yet. “That’s the move of a sad loser who thinks he doesn’t have a chance.” She watched him with bated breath.
A pause, then Kaminari blinked. He pointed at himself. “Do I have a chance?”
The corner of her lip twitched up. “I don’t know, do you?”
“Uhh. . .um, wait, hold on—” He turned back to the sink, turned the water on and splashed some on his face. His flushed cheeks and determined look were very charming. “Jirou, do you wanna go out with me tomorrow?”
Kyoka smiled shyly. “Yes. . .I’d like that.”
He smiled back, just as shy and held out his hand hopefully. She stared at it, then looked up at him. “I’m not holding your wet hand.” He pouted, but she just swatted his hand away and gestured to the rice-cooker. “We better get moving. The children won’t be able to handle another minute without their food.”
“Yeah, you’re right. How ‘bout you go get them and I’ll finish things up?” His smile was very bright, and did strange things to her heartbeat.
She nodded, and began her walk to the common area. Her thoughts, however, circled around the reason for the skip in her step.