Linked Paths

Arc II - Many Firsts [Chapter 4: Pandora's Box]

I exit the bathroom. Buck naked, I now head to my closet to grab underwear and a fresh U.A. uniform. Unfortunately, pessimistic thoughts catch up with me as I get dressed.

What if I can't find anyone else who's interested in me? What if no one else wants me except some rapist creeps?

Then I guess I'll join Chino and become a kitty cat grandpa...- although I'm more of a dog person.

With this thought I must let out a resigned chuckle.

When I am dressed, I look at myself in the mirror. Maybe I need a physical change to boost my self-confidence? Or simply for the sake of trying something new? Or just for the sake of...who cares? I will consider it.

Still brooding to myself, I head for the bedside cabinet. I put on my HeCom and check again that I've done all my homework. Another action-packed day lies ahead of me. Every day is like this now with the exams nearing and all. Every minute is precisely divided up between the individual duties and tasks. The free minutes when there's nothing at all to do are few and far between. It's stressful. On the other hand, I'm happy about the distraction and the regulated daily routine.

Before I leave my room to go to have breakfast, I check that I have all my stuff I need for the morning. As I open the door to officially start my day, I remember something. I sigh in exhaustion.

Later, Kacchan and I want to do close-combat training. Our joint training is particularly nasty with my messed up mental state.

[The same day, Close Combat Training Area]

Kacchan: "Ready, Deku?", *stretches his thighs again*

"Uhn.", I reply as I circle my shoulder once more. I want and don't want to train with Kacchan. You know why.

I probably should have canceled, but I guess it's too late now.

Today we don't want to focus on anything specific but do general freestyle "wrestling matches" where we have to somehow throw our opponent off the circular mat. The thing is, I would prefer to touch him as little as possible during our maneuvers in my current confusion. But, you know, at the same time, I DO want to touch him. And that's just not appropriate. Di~fficult.

Besides...Kacchan is wearing his tight, black tank top, which just looks way too good on him. His blue sports shorts are not bad either. They fit loosely but only cover half of his muscular thighs. Oh man, those thighs.

I play my mantra 'Kacchan is a buddy' over and over again in my head. The effectiveness of this is questionable.

That's when Kacchan attacks and thus starts our training session. My plan is defense and dodging, then, at the right moment, I'll try to throw him out. Kacchan goes for the exact opposite today and is all the more aggressive.

This first round starts with a quick exchange of blows. I hold my ground well and can fend off his punches efficiently. But Kacchan pushes me further and further back and I reach the end of the mat sooner than I would like if things continue like this. As Kacchan's next fist attack approaches, I dodge to the side with a skillful dive. Immediately I continue back towards the middle of the mat, but suddenly Kacchan tackles me from behind.

We fall. I fall forward and land roughly on my forearms, with which I try to catch myself. A mistake. Kacchan pushes me down firmly with his arms on my shoulder blades, trapping my arms underneath me. The air is forced out of my lungs, and I have to groan while exhaling heavily. My breath returns from the mat directly under my face, carrying its odor with it. Kacchan lies on top of me with all his weight. I can't help but notice that he happens to be pressing a certain part of him against my butt. Luckily, the feeling of being squashed is more urgent and prevents my thoughts from drifting off.