Fever Pitch - tododeku -sicfic

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Hi @Cheese_It_Bar thanks for the support! (Also sorry I've been gone I was sick)
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Shouto splashed water on his face, huffing out a frustrated breath as it retained its warm pinkness. He'd been feeling, well, off, all morning but it was starting become bothersome as the feeling would not lift with time, matter of fact, it'd gotten worse.

With a sigh, he brushed it off as his quirk acting up, and forced himself to refocus on the task at hand.

PE was starting soon— actually it was the first period of the day, and he had yet to finish getting dressed. Resolved, with the motivation of not wanting to deal with a tardy slip, he pulled on his arm bands and boots and walked to the gym.

Inside, the rest of his class had sprawled across the bleachers, passing time on their phones or doing homework until class officially started. Much to Todoroki's relief, the bell sounded just seconds after he sat down, meaning he was perfectly on time.

As usual, Aizawa entered, swiftly ticking off people on his attendant clipboard, the silence awkward as always while he scribbled on the clipboard.

Finally their teacher broke the silence with a short debriefing of the class— they would be sparring in one on one fights, in which there were no quirks allowed, or, as he described it, a test of combat skills, independent strength, and quick thinking.

Plenty of his classmates perked up at the prospect, but Shouto was... less than enthused about it. In the fifteen minutes of chatter, a pounding headache had sprouted in his head.

Attempting to ignore it, he went about stretching while pairings were determined. His muscles ached with each movement, though all morning he'd tried and failed to pinpoint what had made him so sore, despite the pain, he continued, rathering to deal with a bit of soreness than an injury.

"Looks like it's me and you," a friendly voice announced, sitting on the bleachers beside Todoroki as he finished a hamstring stretch.

"Alright," he mumbled blandly. It was Kirishima, his spiked hair already falling disheveled in his eyes after his morning run.

"I'll try to have mercy on you," the redhead laughed, reaching his arms in the air to stretch.

"That's not the point of the exercise," Shouto pointed out as he glanced to the designated court. Uraraka and Hagakure were already setting up for their match, Ochako practicing punches while Hagakure, well, no one could see what she was doing.

"Eh, whatever, I was being courteous,"

Todoroki refrained from a reply, both because he had no further words and because he was trying to keep a tickling cough from exploding out his lungs.

Clearing his scratchy throat, he ran a hand through his hair, allowing a deep breath to flow through his veins, failing to rid any of his current ailments. Again, he gave a sigh.

Aizawa scrawled the line-up order on the gym's whiteboard, then, with a whistle blow, the first match began.

Thankfully, Shouto was going fifth, leaving plenty of time to sit back and clear his head. Though, as he came to learn, it would not be enough time.

Match after match passed, winners and losers leaving the court, feelings swirling over their strengths and weaknesses, things to work on versus their match defining strengths.

"Ready dude?" Kirishima chirped hopping down from the folded bleachers as Yaoyorozu bowed bashfully after beating Ojiro in their brawl.

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