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January came and went. With how crazy your life had been recently, this last month was almost... underwhelming.
Then again, perhaps you and everyone around you deserved to finally have some peace and quiet.
With the new term—the last one of your first year at U.A—you returned to regular classes after a short additional catch-up course on the material you’d missed while floating between life and death.
A few of your classmates managed to secure places for work-study. Katsuki interned with the new Number One himself.
There was no news from Hawks.
You kept in touch with Seismic and Thermal. All they said was that the agency was operating as normal, only Hawks seemed busier than usual, but they had no idea why that was.
Well, it’s not like you could’ve done anything even if you had more information, or if you had renewed your work-study contract. You were still too weakened to go back to the field.
Throughout the entirety of January, you worked hard to build your muscles back up. Individually. You were temporarily barred from participating in any training Class 1-A did. At least you managed to sneak in a few training sessions for your Quirk with your classmates.
But January was now over, and Recovery Girl gave you a green light to return to regular training regimen with the beginning of February.
You missed your hero costume, but for today’s training all you’d need was a simple PE uniform, because Class 1-A would be doing some physical training indoors, no Quirks. The entire class stood in a loose semicircle around Shouta as he explained the rules.
All 22 students would be paired up at random and get 10 minutes for a spar. Then, you’d draw new lots and get another 10 minutes. Then repeat it two more times. This way, everyone would get to fight four different people while Shouta, All Might and Ectoplasm observed every fight. At the end of the class, you’d have a discussion about the results, about what you all did well, and which parts still needed improvement.
You drew the first lots and got Ojiro as your first opponent. You were glad about that—Ojiro was one of the most skilled people at hand-to-hand in your class. He would be a perfect opponent for you to accurately evaluate at what level you stood right now and how far you were from regaining the full strength you had before the injury.
Your mood soured rapidly less than a minute into the fight.
You were no match for Ojiro, but that wasn’t why you felt so frustrated—it was the fact that you could tell he was holding back.
You were out of practice. After all, the last time you sparred with someone was two months ago, plus you were still working on building your muscles back up after the severe atrophy that’d happened while you were in a hospital.
Which meant that around two thirds of your classmates should be able to wipe the floor with you right now, not to mention the ones who excelled at hand to hand.
Someone like Ojiro should’ve taken you down within the first few seconds, and yet it took him more than a minute to pin you down on the mat for the first time.
“Come on, you can do better than that!” you tried taunting him. “It feels like you’re the one who skipped training for two months, not me!”
After that, Ojiro upped the intensity a bit, but you could tell he still wasn’t trying his best either. Towards the second half of your spar, you noticed him grimacing every time he brought you down.
For as much as Ojiro harped on about pride at the Sports Festival, he sure didn’t care about yours here.
But you didn’t want to start a bigger conflict, so you chose to ignore it, brush Ojiro’s demeanour off as a lost cause, and wait for a different opponent.
You drew lots again, and this time you got Hagakure. Engaging in a direct fight wasn’t her strongest suit—she was more about sneaking around and taking her opponents down quietly—so you suspected that even in your current condition you should be able to win at least a few rounds.
The sparring session started totally normally. While Hagakure was, luckily, wearing a full PE uniform, you still couldn’t see her hands, which proved troublesome without the use of your Quirk.
Then everything changed when she fell for one of your moves that you knew was too sloppy. You pinned her down to the mat, but she should’ve been able to get out of that hold easily.
You released her, and as Hagakure slowly stood back up, you heard her say sheepishly, “Man, I totally fell for that move! Good job, (Y/N)!”
“Bullshit! You took that hit on purpose!”
“What? No! You really won here!” she tried to defend herself, but her nervous voice gave her away.
You loved your whole class, you really did, but in moments like these... damn could you get angry.
“I’m here for fucking training, not racking up pity points! Get serious!” you shouted.
It seemed like your outburst was louder than you’d intended, because from the corner of your eye you saw some heads turning in your direction, some fights slowing down. But no one said anything.
For the remaining time, Hagakure didn’t seem to lose on purpose, but you still found it suspicious how many times you managed to bring her down.
Once 10 minutes were done, you drew lots again.
Third time’s the charm, right?
You got Iida. You breathed a tentative sigh of relief. He was a stickler for rules, and intentionally going easy during a class would technically be breaking rules, right?
...
Wrong.
Iida was even worse than the previous two combined. You knew how powerful his kicks were, even without using Quirks, and he was clearly holding back in this spar.
Your frustration spiked again.
Just like the other two, you called Iida out as well. But unlike the other two, he didn’t even try to hide it.
Chopping air with his hands, Iida replied, “Of course I’m not using my full strength. It wouldn’t be fair. You've undergone quite a harrowing ordeal and aren’t at your full strength. It’s my duty as the class president—”
“It’s your duty as the class president to help me get my strength back by not going easy in training and disrespecting me, for fuck’s sake!” you snapped.
You attacked Iida. It was less like a sparring and more like venting out your frustration. Your moves were sloppy, but you didn’t care—you just wanted to hit something, and you wanted Iida to fight back. But instead, he mostly kept to defensive moves up until the time ran out.
You half-seriously considered just taking a bathroom break and not returning until the class was over. You weren’t sure how much more bruising your pride could take.
Everyone moved to draw lots again, but Shouta stopped them.
“Change of plans,” he said, voice gruff and monotone. “For the last round, the matchups won’t be random. I paired you all up manually. Here’s the list—listen carefully.”
One by one, Shouta listed eleven pairs. The last two names he called were yours and, surprisingly, Katsuki’s.
You heard your classmates begin murmur amongst themselves.
“Seriously? I thought Aizawa-sensei promised to never pair them up again after last time?”
“Perhaps that goes only for training with Quirks?”
“Maybe, but still...”
You barely registered those murmurs due to your frustrations from earlier.
Suddenly, Katsuki nudged your side hard enough to make you stagger.
“Drop that frown, Hot Pepper. Save it for later. I haven’t even started kicking your ass yet!”
Your protest died on your lips, and despite yourself, you smiled.
You took your places on the mat, and the timer began anew.
Katsuki brought you down on your ass five times within the first minute.
“Even Dunce Face had put up more of a fight earlier!” Katsuki taunted you.
So, you stood up and attacked again.
It felt as if you two had fought only yesterday, and the last two months didn’t happen.
Well, except the fact that now you were losing badly. Every. Single. Time.
Somewhere around the three minute mark Katsuki’s kick to your ribs knocked all air out of you.
A couple more minutes later, he put you in a hold that twisted your arm so badly that for a moment you worried your joints might’ve popped right out of their sockets.
Your body was so tired that you couldn’t remember the last time you’d pushed yourself to such a physical limit. And yet, you kept getting back up. You kept attacking and defending with everything you had. Twice, you even managed to get close to winning, even if Katsuki still absolutely overpowered you at the end.
You were so engrossed in this spar, that you didn’t even notice when the timer ran out. You didn’t notice the entire class stop their own matches and turn to observe you and Katsuki. You barely heard the murmurs as you hit the ground harshly again. And again. And again.
You two sparred for additional two minutes or so before Shouta called out and informed you the exercise was over.
You lay on the mat, limbs spread out wide, panting heavily. Your lungs were burning, and you weren’t completely sure whether you could even stand up on your own.
But you weren’t on your own.
A hand almost as familiar as your own entered your field of vision.
“Come on, Hot Pepper, get your lazy ass off the ground. The class is not over yet.”
You grabbed Katsuki’s hand, and he pulled you up, allowing you to subtly lean on him for the remaining discussion the class had.
Getting so utterly beaten was embarrassing and frustrating, but you were grateful Katsuki didn’t add even more humiliation to that by holding his punches. At least now you knew where you stood exactly, and how much further you had yet left to go before returning to your previous top shape.
The teachers quickly reviewed all students one by one. Before dismissing the class, though, Shouta slowly swept his eyes over everyone and added, his aura rather intimidating, “One more thing. If any of you ever hold back in training again, I’ll expel you. Consider this your only warning. Dismissed.”
You heard a loud gulp behind you, and suspected it might’ve been Hagakure.
The class began slowly heading towards the changing rooms, chatting amongst themselves. You, on the other hand, paused. You quickly grabbed Katsuki’s hand, squeezed it, and whispered, “Thank you, Kats.”
He turned to look you in the eyes. You knew he understood what you were referring to. Then, his lips stretched into a grin. One moment you were staring into Katsuki’s beautiful eyes and smile, and the next moment you found yourself in a headlock, Katsuki poking at your ribs as he said, “’Thank you’? What was that? Do you enjoy getting your ass handed to you this much? I mean, I don’t mind doing it more often!”
You were stuck somewhere between fighting him and laughing.
Sparring Katsuki was always fun, even if you lost. It made you feel alive and present. Even now, despite the fact you were so exhausted and aching all over you could barely walk, you still felt content, and all your earlier anger and frustrations were forgotten.
Finally, Katsuki released you, turned his back to you and crouched down a bit. He told you over his shoulder, “This is a one-time deal, but come on, I’ll give you a piggyback ride to the changing rooms. You look like you’ll fall and smash your face into the ground if you take even a few more steps, and I just happen to like that face a little.”
You let out a laugh, then wrapped your arms around Katsuki’s neck and your legs above his hips so that he could pick you up.
Despite the massive setback you’d experienced, despite the long road to full recovery still ahead of you, you knew you’d be okay, because you knew you wouldn’t be alone.