Toshinori cradled his bleeding nose, making his way through the bleachers to get to Recovery Girl. Thankfully he was just Toshinori right now, and nothing else was needed of him until the top three were announced.
He glanced over at the students. The Cavalry battle had just begun, and Todoroki was pulling an impressive display. He was playing very defensively - for obvious reasons - and the flames that stretched around him in a protective circle was making most other groups get cold feet. Uraraka was the exception however, and it seemed that Todoroki was attempting to ward the floating girl off with his ice, only half way successful.
Admittedly, Toshinori was a touch disappointed the Sports Festival was only for first years. No matter how many times Mirio tried to explain his time with the event, he knew it would never be the same as watching a pupil participate, getting to root for and cheer them on, being a guiding hand for One For All with Mirio just as Nana had been for him.
Mirio was a fantastic pupil. He was intelligent, determined, creative, everything he needed someone wielding One For All to be. But he couldn't help the feeling that something was missing.
Toshinori stopped in his tracks and gave himself a moment to sulk. He was distracting himself from the look that had been on Aizawa's face and he knew it. Like he was a monster.
As much as he wanted to, he couldn't blame the other for his reaction. It seemed like he had gotten very close to Midoriya, and hearing about Toshinori's mistake must have been harder than any hero work he'd done. Toshinori debated on how to make it up to him. Not only did he care about Aizawa himself, but If Aizawa kept Toshinori out of the classroom as much as possible, talking to Midoriya at all would be much, much harder.
He hoped it wouldn't come down to Toshinori sneaking behind his back. Aizawa would throw him out of a window.
Shouto activated his left side as soon as the cavalry battle was called to an end, attempting to get feeling back in his right arm. Uraraka had been merciless in her attempts to get to him, and even when she finally backed off, he still needed to defend himself against the slew of other groups that had immediately jumped at his throat.
His left hand shot to his forehead, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he felt the headband. He had been careful, but he never knew when someone might have tried to strike behind his back. His group set him on the ground. Shouto could see others follow his lead, and some groups nearby whispered anxiously to themselves, unsure of where they placed in the ranking.
Shouto's group was called for first, and it may have been unsurprising but it was a huge weight off his shoulders. Bakugo's group made second - a curious outcome since Shouto hardly saw him - and Shinsou's group stole third. Shouto was happy for them.
Midnight explained the tournament and revealed the match ups. Shouto's eyes skimmed the board, flexing and relaxing his numb right hand in a repetitive motion, the heat from his left side slowly moving to his right. Sero. He glanced at his classmate. As much of a shame as it was fighting someone who knew his techniques, he knew Sero's as well, so they would have to get creative fighting one another. Sero's tape was long range just like his own as well. Who knew how that could go?
He smirked to himself. He hadn't gotten truly excited about fighting since he was younger, and he found the rush of it to be refreshing. Even as he went to exit for the break they had, strategies churned in his head, attempting to piece together his fire and ice in a way that wouldn't overwhelm him yet. The ring of fire had been purely defensive after all, and Shouto wasn't itching to use fire in actual combat. Not yet.
As he went, he glanced at the board one last time to see the first match of the tournament. The names of the candidates stared him in the face, and he hummed, intrigued.
He tucked away his half formed strategies for the moment, wiggling his tingling fingers. He would worry about the matches later, right now, he wanted to see if he could hunt down Izuku, and maybe a vending machine for some water.
He had to grab his phone from Midnight too, now that he thought about it. He turned to do just that.
The kid was buzzing above his head, excited all over again, and Aizawa felt relief.
The phone was the perfect distraction for Midoriya, and the more Aizawa talked to him, the more he was able to relax from his tense, upset state. Present Mic was back to putting his full attention into commentating, Midoriya was cheering in his warped way, and the booth mostly fell back into the easy, peaceful atmosphere it had before.
Unfortunately, Toshinori's admission was still an enraging hum in the back of his mind. He had to purse his lips to keep his heaping load of questions to himself - upsetting Midoriya all over again wasn't worth it. He didn't think it ever would be, really, but especially now. He would rather quietly stew in his own thoughts than make Midoriya miserable on a day like this.
Midoriya edged closer to the glass, excited, but he seemed to second guess himself. He looked over his shoulder at him, looking unsure, and Aizawa's heart squeezed in sympathy as Midoriya floated over and hovered above his phone. Aizawa unlocked it for him, and he typed slowly, an unease back in his posture that left a bad taste in Aizawa's mouth.
'Can I go say hi?' he had typed, but Aizawa knew what he was really asking.
I'll wait for you here, he replied, a gentle reassurance, and it was all Midoriya needed to beam brightly and rocket through the glass, heading straight for the ground.
Aizawa scowled. He shouldn't do that, it might trigger him again and no one would have a good time. He watched Midoriya descend, his breath caught in his throat, and he only released it when Midoriya made it to Bakugo, fluttering about the boy as he made his way from where his group was dispersing. He couldn't make out a lot of details from so high up, but Bakugo looked pleased to have the company.
You can see him now, right? Hizashi asked, fiddling with a knob Aizawa wasn't sure actually did anything. He always seems to catch your attention whenever he's here, and it got me thinking...what does the kid look like?
Aizawa tracked Bakugo's and Midoriya's path inside until he couldn't see them anymore, refusing to meet Hizashi's eye.
Young, he said quietly, and left it at that. Hizashi didn't push, and Aizawa was grateful for it.
He watched from the booth as his students began to move from the stadium floor to the bleachers, clumping together in their usual friend groups as they strolled inside the building and emerged a few minutes later, group by group. Those that weren't participating in the tournament clutched snacks and drinks, having a much calmer stride as they made their way over to their designated block. Those that were seemed reasonably more tense, growing actually anxious as the minutes ticked on and the break neared its end.
Even from the booth, Aizawa could see Monoma stroll confidently over to Class 1-A, laughing and taunting as usual, and Aizawa pursed his lips. Monoma had potential as a hero, but his pride and arrogance was greatly handicapping him. Kendo dragged her classmate off, and Class 1-A settled back down from the immediate agitation that had struck his students.
Vlad really needed to get a hold on the kid, if Bakugo had another run-in with him Aizawa wasn't sure how it would go.
His eyes tracked Monoma's and Kendo's path back to Class 1-B's bleachers, and immediately, a girl with white hair caught his eye.
Not because of the white hair, but because of the ghosts constantly hovering about her person, quiet and patient. He remembered the incident in his classroom with her, the horror in her expression and the way she ran out so quickly had stuck with him, mostly because he never knew why, but now that he had his own ghost vision he wondered if she had just been horrified at the sight of a young child being a ghost. Maybe her Quirk had to do with ghosts? Maybe she could actually communicate with Midoriya? Could she hear him? Talk to him? Actually touch him?
Aizawa frowned. He hadn't been paying attention to the Cavalry battle at all because of Midoriya's panic, and during the race he hadn't really noticed her, too focused on Bakugo's and Todoroki's push-and-pull of first and second place, so he had no idea what her Quirk actually was. The ghosts around her didn't seem alarmed or upset with being around her, so he figured it wasn't that bad of a Quirk.
Even still, he hoped Midoriya avoided her, just in case.
Katsuki scoffed at the insistent slaps to his shoulder, trying to shrug Deku's never ending enthusiasm off. He was trying to sulk and Deku wasn't helping.
It was fucking second, relax, he snipped, but he couldn't help but smirk at the disembodied giggling bouncing off the walls.
Getting second place stung. Thankfully, not only was Deku a soothing balm, but being able to tell himself that icyhot won fair and square helped just enough for him to accept the loss for what it was. Besides, he made it to the next round, and now Katsuki had the opportunity to kick icy hot's ass into the fucking dirt. Fairly, of course.
He was broken out of his thoughts by Deku's slaps traveling down his arm and to the pocket holding his phone. Katsuki tisked.
Not now, I want a drink, he grumbled, but Deku didn't let up. His tapping grew into full on slaps to his front pocket, and with much grumbling he obliged the silent request and pulled it out, stopping in his walk.
Katsuki opened his mouth to say something snarky, but the words vanished when his phone started operating on its own. It scrolled through his apps, opened the notepad, and pulled up the keyboard. He could only gawk as it began to type for a minute, but then the typing stopped, fiddling with his keyboard until it pulled up options he had never seen before - on his own phone what the fuck - and eventually the entity possessing his device chose a little face to put next to the message.
'Kacchan!!! Kacchan got second!! ･:*+.\(( °ω° ))/.:+' it read.
Only one person used faces like that. Katsuki slowly began to grin at the screen, heart hammering as he began to realize what this meant.
You little shit, he muttered fondly. How long did you know? Huh?
The screen glitched and flickered as it typed.
'Today!! Aizawa helped me :DD he's the best'
I'm the best, he corrected on autopilot as he began walking, his thoughts too busy running a mile a minute. Deku could type , if he could use a phone then he could probably use any touch screen, right? He could talk to Deku on the go now, not just in class, and the thought made him feel warm. It was comforting that Deku could still touch bases with him, no matter where they were.
Plus, it wouldn't take a dick year to get responses, and that was definitely a bonus.
'You're the best,' Deku corrected while he was distracted. 'Aizawa is a close second'
No way, I'm way better than that old geezer. He barely got out two words of the sentence before Deku typed 'Kacchan!! (*'Д｀*)' in response.
Katsuki grinned, tucking his device close to his chest, and Deku's laughter echoed beside him as he typed out another sentence.
It wasn't the same as before, but it was as close as he was probably going to get, and shit, Katsuki would take it.
Shouto sighed, disappointment swelling in his gut as he sat in the section of bleachers that were reserved for Class 1-A, a water bottle clutched in his grip. He couldn't find Izuku and it put a damper on his good mood. Shouto had hoped he could enjoy Izuku's upbeat attitude and oddly inspiring pokes, but he guessed Izuku must be with Bakugo - a weird pair for sure but Shouto wouldn't judge.
He sat in his seat quietly, watching as the rest of the seats around him slowly began to fill up. Class 1-B was full of chatter and noise in the group of bleachers next to theirs, and Shouto took comfort in his surroundings, listening to the laughter and talking as it swelled the more people gathered around him. An occasional look was thrown his way by other classmates, and he did his best to give them some kind of greeting, however stilted it may have been. It seemed to be appreciated regardless.
Eventually, Uraraka appeared to take a seat. The second she spotted Shouto, she grinned sympathetically and made her way over with no hesitation, and Shouto wondered why.
Missing someone? Uraraka teased lightly as she sat down next to him. Don't worry, I'm sure Izuku will show up.
Were you looking for him too? he asked.
Now she looked sheepish, picking at her cuticles. Iida and I were, yeah. I was hoping he'd show after the cavalry battle but...
Shouto understood what she meant, and he nodded. He'll show, I think he's with Bakugo now.
He seems to really like Bakugo, Uraraka said, leaning back slightly as she rested her hands in her lap. She looked contemplative. Do you think they knew each other?
I think we shouldn't make assumptions, Shouto replied.
Uraraka blushed. Yeah, you're right.
There was a strangely companionable silence after that, and Iida ended up joining them shortly after, a flurry of chopping hand motions and questions about their health. Uraraka and Iida got into their own conversation about the first match - Shinsou and Bakugo - and how they thought it would go. Slowly, the bleachers filled with their classmates until Shinsou and Bakugo were the only ones still absent. The noise from their chatter mixed with the natural noises of the stadium was nearly deafening, the crinkling of plastic bags, crunching of food, and carefree laughter blended together into soothing white noise, until even Shouto couldn't help but relax. The smell of fresh air was especially crisp so high up, and a cool breeze rustled their hair and eased the slight heat from the bright sun. The sky was blue, a couple fluffy white clouds lazily drifting by.
Shouto took in a deep breath. He could smell popcorn from Kaminari.
Someone with vines for hair, clutching her hands in a prayer-like grip quietly approached, a nervous expression on her face. Shouto watched her curiously. She made her way to the steps and stopped.
Excuse me, she said, voice gentle. I am Ibara Shiozaki, from Class 1-B.
Welcome! someone - Shouto wasn't sure who - shouted behind him in greeting. You can sit over here if Monoma's bothering you.
A wave of playful laughter swept their class. Even Shouto felt his lips twitch, Uraraka cackling as Iida turned in his chair to scold the perpetrator.
That is...not quite the reason, she confessed. I was wanting to offer an exorcism.
All at once, the noise stopped. A stunned, tense stillness descended upon the group as dozens of pairs of eyes stared at her. A bubble formed then, and suddenly Shouto felt as if the tournament was thousands of miles away, and all he could hear of it were murmurs. He stared at her too, stunned into silence. No one seemed to know how to respond to her.
Ibara seemed to wrongly take the silence as interest, since she kept talking. Your classroom is haunted, after all, she said gently. Her tone of voice hadn't changed, but it sounded condescending now, as if she was treating them with kid gloves. Shouto clenched his teeth against the anger that hit him in a rushing wave. It must be awful living with a demon in your classroom, but I'm sure an exorcism will cleanse the air and let you all be free once more.
Demon? Izuku? Shouto filed through his memories, of every day he stayed after school to tuck himself away in the classroom, whispering back and forth to the little ghost as they tossed ideas with his fire out into thin air, his advice echoing in his head. Shouto had no idea where he'd be without Izuku's help, if he had never reached out a helping hand to someone he saw was hurting. Izuku put smiles on his classmate's faces, made Aizawa roll his eyes in class, had Hizashi laughing with the rampant, echoed giggles bouncing off the walls every time the teacher cracked a joke.
If Izuku was a demon, he was a pretty shitty one.
Thank God Bakugo isn't here, Kaminari whispered, tone a mixture of shock and horror, and that was enough to get the rest of the class in an uproar, everyone shouting and talking over each other. Shouto didn't speak, instinctually swallowing his anger to keep silent.
"Everyone, that is quite enough!" Iida's authoritative voice cut through the mass of noise, booming like a gunshot. The class' protests fizzled and died.
I only offer out of kindness, Ibara sputtered the second she was able. I didn't mean to offend-
Yes, we know, Iida replied, firm and sharp. But that is also not something that has anything to do with you. Izuku is a part of our class now, and we would appreciate it if you would leave this be.
Ibara gawked at him, her eyes sweeping the gathered students, one massive wall of disapproval. You named the demon...?
He's not a demon! He's a kid! Ashido shouted, and the swarm of different voices started up again. Ibara looked very overwhelmed, but Shouto couldn't muster up much pity for her. His gaze shifted to the sky again, his hands clenching in his lap.
You should go, Iida said calmly, but his voice shook. Ibara turned on her heel and fled back to her class.
An uneasy silence laid over the once peaceful atmosphere like a suffocating blanket.
We can't tell Bakugo, Kirishima murmured. We can't.
The class agreed with him, muted and quiet. They slowly began to converse once more, but it lacked the easy time it held before, weighed down from Ibara's reasonable but cruel suggestion.
Shouto stared hard at the sky, tense and unmoving. Upon closer inspection, the clouds weren't white. They were grey.