Chapter Text
It starts like this. Shinso gets his ass beat at the sports festival by Midoriya and afterwards, offstage, goes to mope.
He’s now sitting in the stands, rightfully and not overdramatically, brooding with Class B since his own class is too scattered in the stands for him to find them,
(and not. Because he can’t really remember any of their faces. Totally.) It’s then when the final bracket starts.
He rolls his eyes when he sees who walks onstage.
It looks like Bakugo, the aggressive, loud, blonde from Class A made it as a finalist- it’s not really much of a surprise unfortunately, because Shinso can give respect where respect is due, and Bakugou is admittedly a very strong opponent.
Even more unfortunately, this sentiment is also shared by the other aggressive, loud, blonde that happens to be next to him.
“He’s such an asshole!” Monoma exclaims, gesturing to the stage where Bakugou is stretching.
He’s been complaining about all of Class A pretty consistently since the USJ incident, Shinsou recalls, but he has no idea why he’s expressing this to him of all people, as if they’re friends.
Monoma continues ranting to him without a care in the world, moving his hands wildly and pulling his neck so far back when he laughs it’s actually kind of unnatural. It’s so overbearing that Shinsou’s beginning to think the kid has no other friends, considering that even though they’re sitting with almost the entirety of Class B, Shinsou is somehow the best person to spill this to.
They keep running into each other for some reason; Monoma probably thinks it’s because they’re destined to be best friends, and Shinsou thinks it’s because he’s being punished by the Lord.
“I mean, the whole ‘I’m gonna win for sure’ announcement was bad, but now that he’s this close I’m actually pissed off.” The blonde scoffs, for what must be the 50th time that minute.
You’re always pissed off, Shinsou thinks, but wisely keeps to himself.
He doesn’t really care about the fight that much, though he can’t not agree with Monoma when he goes on a spiel about how badly he wishes Bakugou’s opponent humbles him.
He watched Bakugou’s last contender, a girl also from Class A with a gravity quirk, nearly give him a run for his money, but ultimately collapse from exhaustion.
Shinsou had sighed at that, (and then pulled Monoma back into his seat from where he was screaming “Stupid class can’t do anything right!”) and considered finding the tape guy from a few rounds ago to shut Monoma up.
“Whatever man,” Shinsou replies, “You have to give him credit, he’s made it this far so he’s got to have some actual talent-”
The projector broadcasting the combat stage picks up some audio from what sounds to be like Bakugo yelling at someone off camera.
“...as much talent as an asshole can have.”
Monoma laughs and opens his mouth to say something that’s probably obnoxious, but gets cut off by Kendo, who’s now leaning forward from her seat behind them.
“Bakugou’s strong I can say that,” She says, her head in between the both of them, whispering like what she’s about to tell them is a secret, “but my bets are on the girl he’s about to be up against. She wiped the floor with Todoroki earlier!”
“No way.” Shinsou says. He and Monoma had actually missed the second bracket, having gone to the bathroom right after Todoroki and Midoriya’s total showdown.
Honestly, even before Todoroki whipped out his fire, the ice he was shooting around alone was probably enough to scare the actual piss out of him.
When they got back, they assumed Bakugou had won against Todoroki, and were informed that Tokoyami had lost his bracket and was eliminated.
“Yes way.” Kendo breathes out excitedly. “She’s totally gonna take it! I’m calling it now.”
“What class is she from?”
“Class A-”
“-Go figure,”
“Monoma you’re just mad you didn’t even make the brackets, shut up.” Kendo rolled her eyes and continued. “Her quirk is like, I think it’s earth manipulation? And you should’ve seen Todoroki’s face, he couldn’t have gotten over himself fast enough to use his fire even if he wanted to.”
“You’re kidding. That fast?” Shinsou asks, unbelieving.
Kendo nods. “That. Fast.”
Shinsou’s about to voice his doubts when he’s interrupted by Monoma jumping forward and pointing at the stage opposite Bakugou. “Is that her?”
The camera, at the moment, is pretty focused on Bakugou’s face while Present Mic has taken it upon himself to scream about his ‘explosive quirk’ and ‘even more explosive personality’. When the projector finally switches to the girl, the audience roars.
He can hear Kendo and her friends going absolutely ballistic behind him and even Monoma, who hadn’t even seen her until this moment let out an excited whoop!
And Shinsou stays silent, because, well. He’s a very observant person. It comes with never really being talked to in his childhood- kids didn’t want to trigger his quirk, and he liked being alone, so he never really socialized with anyone growing up. That said, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have eyes.
He means, he knows when someone’s attractive alright? He does get the hype around Todoroki and the aloof, mysterious, rich boy aura thing he’s got going for him.
And he’s never thought he had a ‘type’ before, usually shying away from questions like ‘blonde or brunette?’ or something like ‘are Japanese girls or Chinese girls hotter?’, because he’s never really thought that way about any girl before.
Key word- before. This is different. Does it count as a ‘type’ if this is literally the only girl ever that’s gotten his attention like, like, you know, in that way??
This is a revelation. He’s only snapped out of his dumbstruck epiphany (who knew he could have feelings?!) when Present Mic screams her name and kicks off the round.
“Galaaaaa Aftan!! Yeowww! Let’s get this started everyone!”
Gala Aftan.
Gala Aftan.
Gala-
“-Aftan is off to a speedy start while Bakugou is showing us some great evasive maneuvers!” Mic continues, and Shinso tries his best to keep up with the both of them, but they’re both so fast.
He was expecting this ferocity from Bakugou, of course, but watching that energy be reciprocated at damn near the same level is terrifying.
The stage is covered in smoke clouds and quick blasts of light, which Mic points out must be Bakugou maneuvering in the air.
The smoke is so thick and condensed the cameras can’t really zoom into much of anything, and, even if they could, Shinsou doubts they’d be able to catch either of the competitors with how fast it looks both are moving.
Because- see, there are rocks, gigantic boulders being thrown around like torpedoes.
There is very noticeably, raw Earth being sent flying, even though the stage is, very noticeably, made out of cement. It’s not until the smoke thins just enough for him and the rest of the audience witness Gala pull a chunk of rock through the cement, rupturing the ground beneath Bakugou’s feet and sending him reeling backwards.
“There’s no way!” Monoma incredulously shouts to Shinsou, who doesn’t take his eyes off the fight, “that stage is made of almost 10 feet of pure cement. Is she really-“
Gala dodges one of Bakugou’s explosions and sweeps one arm in the air in a wide arc. Multiple shards of rock burst from all corners of the stage and chase him.
“-pulling the ground up that far?!”
He watches the clouds of smoke expand while random chunks of rocks (“they’re missile shaped now! Holy shit they’re missiles!” Monoma continues to scream as if no one else is seeing it) absolutely slack-jawed.
Shinsou is promptly reduced to being a mouth breather for the rest of the fight because he just cannot pick his jaw up off the floor. After a few minutes, he concludes that the fight is a futile one on Bakugou’s part- the smoke may be working in his favor by reducing Gala’s range of sight, but it also means he can’t tell when a rock is about to bludger him in the stomach.
At one point, Shinsou catches a shard of stone fly mere centimeters from Bakugou’s nose and jumps back in his seat because it’s just that terrifying.
He has to commend Bakugou though at least, because if it was him down there, he’d have tapped out the second she summoned those rocks out of the actual ground he was standing on.
It doesn’t help Bakugou’s case that Kendo was right either- Gala’s fast. Shinsou would have thought her quirk was agility with the way she keeps appearing in and out of the smoke at wildly different places in simple seconds.
When the fight is over and the smoke has dissipated, it’s pretty clear who came out on top. Shinsou wouldn’t be able to forget the scene laid out on the stage even if he tried to.
Bakugou on his knees in the middle of what looks like a giant crater full of rubble; it looks like his quirk exhausted itself, and even in his defeat the camera still catches the small, fizzled out sparks shooting from his hands.
More importantly and more unforgettably, is Gala hunched over on the other side of the stage (crater). Heaving and covered in dust and dirt, but still on her feet. The camera zooms in on the victorious sports festival winner, and, wow he almost has to rub his eyes to make sure he’s seeing this right.
She is just so pretty. She’s smiling and she’s won, and her face is smeared in dirt and little streaks of blood and-
There’s something about it that’s so sweet and for a moment, the way the sun glints off her face and the way her eyes crinkle with accomplishment, she looks like a hero- a real one- for a moment.
A hero. She looks like everything he wants to be and he would absolutely despise her for being so much better than him if he wasn’t so stupidly captivated by her stupidly captivating face.
Dear God.
Afterwards, all the students are called back down into the arena to participate in some recreational competitions for those who didn’t make it to the brackets.
He drags a heavy hand down his face as Monoma automatically falls into step beside him to start chattering away on how he’s going to finally best class A in the serious, serious, game of potato sack jumping.
He loses track of what the blonde is going on about until he says something about Gala; at the mention of her name, his body’s reaction, much to his dismay and Monoma’s amusement, is to immediately whip his head up, suddenly hanging on to everything that’s coming out of Monoma’s mouth.
His sudden alertness unfortunately does not go unnoticed, as Monoma immediately bursts into (louder) laughter.
“You,” Monoma wheezes, “are so far gone. I literally saw you drooling during her round.”
Shinso scowls and attempts to trip him. “What? She beat Bakugou. That’s insane! Ca- can you do that?” He sputters, pointing an accusing finger at the other boy and trying to ignore the warmth in his face.
“Can a guy not appreciate a good fight anymore? Is that illega-” Monoma cuts him off by shoving him harshly and sending him flying into a pole.
“You were not just appreciating that fight.” He says haughtily as Shinso stumbles to regain his balance. “You were totally making la la goo goo eyes at Mrs. First Place, or should I say, Mrs. Shinso?”
“You know what?” Shinso glares, “I’m not doing this right now. I literally don’t even know you. Bye.” He stalks off, ignoring Monoma’s protests and half-baked apologies as he chases after him. He can’t handle this right now.
He feels like he needs to buy a book titled Crushes for Dummies or attend an intervention- are there even interventions for this type of thing? Is he like, hitting emotional puberty right now? Is that what’s happe-
“Come on,” Monoma interrupts him in his monologue, having now caught up to him. “We are literally going in the same direction, you can’t speed walk away from this.” He gestures to his face and smolders in what he must think is an attractive expression. Shinsou takes the opportunity to turn away from him and continue his crisis in peace.
He can make out Monoma putting his hands up in a surrendering gesture from his peripheral vision. “Fine, fine,” he says, “I’ll drop it! You’re so touchy- acting like this is your first time liking someone, jeez.”
Shinsou turns to send him a glowering, almost defeated look. “This literally is.” He admits under his breath, just loud enough for the other boy to hear him, and consequently start laughing again, this time jumping up and down in front of him.
“Oh my God.” Monoma cackles. He’s so loud Shinsou almost socks him right where his brain should be. “You’re not serious. You’re like a- like a crush virgin!”
“How do you manage to word things in literally the worst possible way every time?” Shinsou whisper-yells, looking around to make sure no one near them heard Monoma’s outburst. “Just drop it!”
“Alright, alright,” Monoma concedes. Consider it dropped.”
Shinsou sags in relief. “Thank you.”
Before he can actually feel the relief, though, his arm is suddenly being dragged forward causing him to break into a jog behind Monoma, who’s cackling in front of him.
“Did I say consider it dropped?” He whoops, “Sorry I meant consider it dropped-into-my-craftful-hands-and-tucked-safely-in-my-beautiful-brain because we are going to get you to that girl Shinsou if we go now we can probably sneak into whatever team she’s on for hackysack let’s go!”
**
Shinso did not see her for the rest of the afternoon, save a few fast glances of her being engulfed around whatever team or game she was participating in.
Turns out, there were a lot of students, hero course, gen ed, and business course alike who opted to participate in the recreational games. He does have to give it to Monoma though; He definitely tried his best to get Shinso on a team with her, mostly by volunteering him for literally every event possible.
The night is still young though, and when it’s clear Present Mic has no interest in ending the games before the sun sets, both boys retire back to the stands to watch.
“What the hell are you guys eating?” Shinso complains, rolling his shoulder back to ease the pain of where some kid with a killer arm but terrible aim accidentally hit him with a potato. “I saw her, like, once during tug of war and holy shit, it’s the beginning of the year how- how does that even work, like genuinely how, how?”
Monoma raises his eyebrow. “How what?”
Shinso sputters, his face getting increasingly red. “Muscles! How! So many muscles. She could probably snap me like a toothpick!”
“But you like that-”
“I do like that. I like that a lot.” He says exasperatedly, carding his hands through his sweaty hair. “But also like. Are girls into that? Being stronger than their, their.. boyfriend?”
The word still tastes sour in his mouth when he says it, unfamiliar and odd. He thinks he’s come to terms with this newfound romantic interest pretty well though, if not still just a little internally embarrassed.
Because. Come on. He lost to Midoriya in like the span of 3 minutes and didn’t even have the time to do anything cool. All he can hope for now is that Gala only saw him land that sick punch on Midoriya’s nose before he got promptly flipped out of bounds.
“Nooooot exactly I don’t think,” Monoma says, finger to his lip as if he’s actually thinking, “a girl like that would probably want someone more on her level. And considering the looks of you..” He sighs. “We’re starting at Level 0.”
Shinso glares at him. “Level 10.”
“And what’s the maximum? Level 1000? We’re starting at Level 0.”
**