The Fire I Began

Chapter 11

Chapter Text
The first match would start soon, and it was just Izuku's luck that he was one of the two contestants in it.

As much as Izuku would love to share his analysis of The Rabbit Hero: Miruko's fighting style until his throat was sore from talking too much, Shinsou was more of a 'I-need-silence-to-focus' kind of guy, so he kept quiet. Instead, Izuku bounced his leg. He made sure it was far enough under the table to be out of sight- he didn't want to bother anyone with it. Briefly, he wished he'd brought his latest hero analysis journal, but he knew better.

Across from him, Shinsou leaned back in his chair with his feet resting on the table. He was scrolling through something on his phone, not once glancing up. Izuku was rather grateful for that, considering he was positive he looked awful. They were the only two in the room, as everyone else in their class had already moved up to the stands to wait for the first match to begin.

(Hatsume had also gone up to the stands after collecting a crumpled Iron Spider and mostly intact Quad Blaster. After apologizing profusely, Izuku had asked her why she gave the Quad Blaster its name, hoping it would cheer her up to talk about her invention. It did. The gun's name paid homage to the four tries it had taken her to perfect its design, in which the first three times the gun had exploded every time it fired out a cartridge.)

Why Shinsou was sitting with him, Izuku wasn't sure. He had a suspicion that Shinsou was there to comfort him by simply being present, but, since Izuku couldn't do much of anything with him around, it wasn't much of a consolation. There wasn't another reason he could come up with, considering he knew Shinsou wanted to watch the other competitors fight.

Izuku folded his arms on the table and sank his head down to rest on top of them, his leg still bouncing.

He wouldn't need to fight Bakugou unless he won the first two matches. But if he won the first two matches, he would have to fight Bakugou.

Of course, he could always forfeit and give his position to a member of the team that ranked fifth in the second event. That would be the equivalent of admitting he was unworthy of transferring, though. After all, if he gave up now, they'd assume one of two things. Either he thought he'd already proven himself enough and considered himself above continuing, or he was cowering in fear of battling the hero course students who could one day become his classmates. Even if he faked a sudden illness, who would believe him? Not to mention going to Recovery Girl could result in her asking to examine him for external injuries from the previous events. But it wasn't certain, at least.

Though, if he did fight Bakugou, he'd leave with at least a few new burns. And then Recovery Girl would see all the others that preceded them. And then she would see the cuts on his shoulders, and she'd see that some of them were fresh. And then she would know, and then his mother would know, and then everyone would know, and they couldn't know.

If he threw one of his first two matches, Bakugou would see right through his act no matter how well Izuku performed, and Izuku would have to face the consequences. While he might be able to slip away without visiting Recovery Girl, that didn't change the fact that Bakugou would leave another fair share of burn scars in his wake. Izuku had hoped he would never have to endure them again.

He'd finally, finally, been freed from junior high. U.A. was supposed to be different. It was supposed to be the place where nobody knew his Quirk, the place where Bakugou wasn't a constant threat sitting a few seats in front of him. At least, not for a while. Had he asked for too much?

"'M going," Shinsou said suddenly, kicking his feet off of the table and standing up. He pushed his chair back under the table before walking towards the door. He stopped between the corner of the table and the doorway. "Borrow my Quirk?"