apathy

calculator cult

Monoma strides out onto the field with a self confident smirk resting lazily on his face, basking in the cheers that rise up from the crowd when Present Mic announces his name. On the opposite side of the arena exits his opponent, amongst a positive roar of cheers that drowns even the loudmouth hero out. Izuku Midoriya, a general education student who has so far been taking this festival by storm, steps into the ring at the same time as Monoma, his hands placed firmly in his pockets as they face each other.

Midoriya and Monoma eye each other as Midnight waits for the crowd to die down. Monoma still has that hot shot thug from 1-A's explosion quirk copied from the cavalry battle, and it's pretty versatile, so he should be alright depending on that. He is, of course, just as interest in Midoriya's mystery quirk as the rest of the people involved or watching the festival, but copying said mystery quirk he will save for a last resort. He has a better handle on quirks he understands before copying, and he doesn't want to throw this match out the window just because he doesn't know what the hell Midoriya's does.

"START!" Midnight shouts finally, cracking her whip. He and Midoriya start approaching each other, Monoma setting off a few casual pops of nitroglycerin explosions as he closes the distance between them. Midoriya watches his hands with a look of wariness mixed with some sort of bitterness, but doesn't back down.

"Just between us," Monoma says conversationally, punching his palm and letting off a bigger explosion, which makes Midoriya's mouth twist into a nasty scowl, "I don't have anything against you. You beat out most of that pretentious class 1-A, which makes you good in my books."

"Are you gonna blabber this whole time, or are you going to use that quirk against me?" Midoriya drolls, shifting his stance a bit, but keeping his hands in his pockets. Monoma's smirk stretches into a grin and he lunges, hands popping with explosions as they reach out for Midoriya's face. A face that doesn't change expressions in the slightest, even when its owner's hands dart out, grabbing Monoma's wrists. He twists, using Monoma's own momentum to flip him over Midoriya's shoulder and slam him, back first, into the ground.

One of the drawbacks of that Bakugo kid's quirk is that the explosions take a heavy toll on the user's wrists. Even after using the quirk for one match, Monoma's wrists are tender and throb with every movement. Someone grabbing them doesn't help in the least, but there was no way that Midoriya knows that. Monoma scrambles back to his feet and rounds on Midoriya, attacking yet again with the borrowed explosions. Midoriya dodges and blocks with infuriating ease, leading them in a large circle as he ducks and weaves around Monoma's attacks.

"Fun fact," He says, not out of breath in the slightest, "I grew up with Bakugo as my next door neighbor. We were friends at some point."

Midoriya abruptly switches from defense to offense near the line, coming in close to deliver a devastating elbow to Monoma's face before darting out of reach again. Monoma stumbles back, a hand flying to cover his nose, blood already leaking past his fingers. He stares at Midoriya in shock, who stands tall, a twisted, bitter smile on his face.

"I know the ins and outs of that damn quirk." He announces, returning his hands to his pockets. Monoma takes his hand off his nose, smearing the blood that covers it onto his gym uniform. Midoriya seems content to wait for his next move, so Monoma gives it to him, rushing forward to smack the bloodied hand against Midoriya's face. Surprised by the sudden vehemence, Midoriya draws back too late. 

Monoma jumps back with a victorious shout, leaving Midoriya blinking at the sudden turn of events with a red hand print on his face. 

"Well, now we'll see what your great secretive quirk is!" Monoma exclaims, bracing for the usual buzz of power to fill him. There is a moment of complete silence, from the stands, from the two opponents in the ring, because nothing happens. After another second, Midoriya throws his head back and barks out a dark, resentful laugh. Monoma lifts his gaze from his hands to Midoriya, who is walking steadily towards him. He stops a foot away and leans closer.

"I don't have a quirk, dipshit." He says. And while Monoma and the rest of arena stare in shocked silence, Midoriya grabs a fistful of Monoma's uniform and hefts him up, tossing him out of bounds.

"M...Midoriya wins!" Midnight announces, in the small pause before cheering erupts from the stands. Monoma pushes himself up on one elbow, wiping away blood with his other hand, and glares up at Midoriya, who steps across the while line to offer a hand. After a second, Monoma reaches up to take it, and Midoriya hauls him to his feet. 

"Sorry for probably breaking your nose."

"That's alright. All's fair in war." Monoma flashes a weak smile, which Midoriya doesn't buy, if the flat look he gets in return is anything to go by. "Tell you what, escort me to Recovery Girl and I'll call us even."

Midoriya shrugs and begins to walk towards Monoma's entrance, leaving him to catch up and fall into step with the once again exhausted looking boy. They walk in silence, other than a few called congratulations from people they pass in the halls, most of them pointed at Monoma rather than Midoriya. In fact, most everyone they run past avoids even looking at him. Midoriya doesn't pay it any mind.

Until they pass a group of business students. One of them, a boy with a holier-than-thou sneer and orange hair, stops in the middle of the hall, blocking their way.

"Quirkless, and yet you're trying for the hero course." He scoffs at Midoriya, who has a very carefully blank face. The business students behind this one exchange exasperated glances. "I can tell you now though, even if you somehow fucking make it, you won't be worth much. No one wants to invest in a damn quirkless bastard."

Monoma seriously doesn't see Midoriya dart forward. He just knows that one moment, the green hair is besides him, and the next he's in front of this business student, fist making contact with his smug-ass face. Monoma winces in sympathy at the noise the business kid's nose makes, but he has to admit the guy asked to be knocked on his ass.

"You—you can't do that!" The pretentious asshole cries out. "I'll—I'll—"

"Oh shut it." Another business student interrupts, smacking his head in a way that reminds Monoma of Kendo. They grab asshole's shirt collar and start dragging him down the hall, away from the group.

"Sorry about that. That was Kalvin Humphrey, he's a transfer from America." Yet another business student, this one with black hair and glasses, pipes up, flashing the two of them an awkward smile. "He thinks that just because he can see the prices of anything he looks at he's a business big shot."

"Thanks for knocking some sense into him!" Someone from the back calls, which is meant with a chorus of agreeing murmurs. Midoriya shrugs in response.

"No big." He humbly excuses. The glasses student nods sharply and turns to her fellow business students.

"Alright, one of you got that on camera?" Someone raises their hand, and she grins. "Great, let's go show everyone, they're gonna love this. Bye, Kalvin slayer!"

"Please don't do that." Midoriya yells after them as they all march away. There's no answer but distant laughter, and Midoriya curses under his breath. Monoma shakes his head then nudges his shoulder.

"Hey, infirmary, remember, Mr Popular?" He reminds. Midoriya brings a hand up to rub at his temple, nodding.

"Right, let's just go. Don't mention any of that to anyone."

"Cross my heart!" Monoma pledges dramatically, doing so, though not with out crossing his fingers behind his back. Midoriya gives him a dirty look and they keep moving.