"Shit, they really went after freckles, didn't they? Who event made these events up?"
It was the second intermission of the first Sports Festival day, and I was rather surprised at how hard the kids were fighting. They all wanted to win.
"Well, he did have the most points! Ah, I'm proud of the little listeners! The finals will be fun!" Yamada pumped his fists in the air, swivelling his chair back and forth. Meanwhile, Aizawa just sat there, staring out at the field with a bored expression.
He's proud...so why the hell doesn't he show it?
My behaviour had even surprised me. Not once had I tried to steal the mic, or really bugged anyone at all. It was completely out of character.
"Well, I'm gonna go get a soda, maybe check on the girls while I'm at it. Y'know, be a caring role model and all that junk." Stretching my arms over my head, I started towards the door.
"Don't be gone too long." Aizawa called after me, and I paused, smirking when I turned back to face him.
"What's this? Shota is worried about lil ol' me?" When I placed a hand on my chest I could see his frustration, plain as day, even behind his wrappings.
"I'm concerned that you'll cause trouble. You're not supposed to walk around without an escort, b-"
"Come on, man! She's not a villain! You're so anal about these rules, it's not like Nezu thinks she's gonna do anything majorly bad!" Yamada piped up to defend me, but Aizawa just heaved a sigh, slumping down further into his seat.
"I wasn't finished. Despite the agreement, I trust you to behave. Act like an adult."
I mean, I'm happy he kind of trusts me...but am I really that misbehaved?
Saluting him with as much exuberance as I could muster, I shouted an 'aye aye' in return before exiting, quickly making my way down to the cafeteria.
"Here you go, missy! One can of Mirk'ola and a Fatgum Surprise!" Lunch Rush cheerfully handed me my order, and I thanked him with a grin as I turned away, ready to try and seek the girls out.
"Oh, Miss (Y/N)!" It seemed that I didn't have to, as Yaoyorozu and Jiro both came trotting up to me. The former began to twiddle her thumbs, her shyness apparent. "Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you'd heard anything about the cheer routine?"
Holding a finger up for her to wait a moment, I unwrapped my Fatgum Surprise pastry, taking a bite and internally sobbing because it was (Least Favourite Flavour).
"Well, damn. Okay, uh, the what now? Cheer routine? I'm lost."
Thumbing over her shoulder, Jiro motioned to a pair of boys, who I recognised immediately.
"Mineta and Kaminari said that Mr. Aizawa has all the girls signed up to cheer with those American girls for intermission, but we haven't heard anything about it."
Ah. Okay. Teen boys out for skimpy skirts. I get that.
Now, as a responsible adult, it was my duty to inform them that this was obviously all a perverted plot, but I couldn't make myself do it. Cheering sounded like a load of fun.
"Shota doesn't really share much with me, but they're probably right! Hey, here's a wild idea...I'll join you! Do we have the outfits?"
"Oh, uh...n..no, but I can make some!"
-----------------------------------------
"WHAT IS THIS I SEE BEFORE ME?! FAN SERVICE?!"
Yamada's voice boomed through the speakers as I stood proudly among the less-confident girls, pom-poms in hand and grinning widely.
"I'm gonna kill them..." Jiro growled under her breath, glaring daggers at Kaminari and Mineta, who stood to the side with rosy cheeks.
"M..Miss (Y/N), I thought you said we were supposed to be doing this..?" Uraraka hid behind her pom-poms, eyes darting around nervously.
"No, I said it was probably true. Come on, there's no harm in having fun! You all look incredible!"
Both Mina and Hagakure were completely over the moon about cheering, unlike the others, and the crowd was loving it. They had to learn that, sadly, fan-service was part of being a female hero, like it or not. I knew at least that much. Sex appeal got us places, and despite the fact o completely disagreed with it, they had to know what to expect in the future.
"(Y/N), get back up here..." Aizawa's voice carried down to me as he muttered into his microphone, and I turned to the viewing box, making a big cross with my arms. Was it to spite him? No, not at all. He just needed to loosen up a little.
After a bit of coaxing from me and my two excitable companions, the girls warmed up to the idea, and I managed to get them to do a small routine before they decided to scurry back inside to get changed. Approaching the pair of troublesome boys, I gave them a smile, tapping each of them on the head with my pom-poms.
"Witty, I'll give you that...but don't think I won't be ratting you out to Shota. Just look at PornClub like every other guy." They could only manage to nod as I turned away, handing my fluffy accessories to a flushed Sero, who had obviously come over to take a quick look see. "Would you be a dear and keep these safe for me? I wanna keep them, but Shota'll confiscate them."
"Uh...y..yeah, s..sure..." He avoided my shielded eyes as he took them from me, and I internally chuckled as I left the arena, choosing to stay in my snazzy new outfit instead of changing back into my boring clothes.
When I returned to the viewing box, a new can of Mirk'ola in hand, I was met by an agitated mummy and a snickering banana.
"That was a ridiculous, insensitive prank, (Y/N). How do you think those girls felt?" He began to scold me, and my mood dropped.
Not like it was my plan to begin with...
"It was Kaminari and Mineta, actually. Yeah, I kind of gathered you didn't organise that shit, but you and I both know that they need to prepare to be exploited as female heroes..." I sighed, shutting the door and moving to sit on the desk near the back. "It sucks, but that's how it is. Besides, they ended up having fun. Even though it started off as two hornballs searching for spank bank material, I think it built their confidence up a bit."
Aizawa glared at me for a while, possibly considering my reasoning, and Yamada just sat there, waiting for the verdict.
"Don't try pinning this on children. You should know better than this." When I realised he hadn't believed me, it hurt. Was I that untrustworthy? Did he really think that little of me? Yes, I had played along, but I never would have started the ball rolling.
"You know what? I'm not even gonna try and argue with you right now. I'm obviously some kind of antagonist in your eyes." Pulling my knees up to my chin, I stared down at my can, trying to ignore the twisting feeling in my stomach. I adored Aizawa, but how he felt towards me was hot and cold. One minute, he was relatively kind, but the next, it was shit like this. I never usually reacted the way I was, but for some reason it was different.
"Come on, you two..." Yamada stared awkwardly, glancing between us. "I'm sure this is a misunderstanding! After this last tournament, we'll have a big ol' talk and hug it out, right?!"
Wrong.
Once the festival had ended, with a feral Bakugou nearly biting the golden medallion clean in half, I left. On my own. I could have easily slipped away and gone wherever I wanted, but instead I just returned to Aizawa's, easily breaking in through the kitchen window.
In my room, I began scanning through my notebook, studying each and every name, and how much I owed. It didn't take long for a knock to sound, the ravonet entering before I said I word.
"You can't just take off like that, no matter how sulky you get." He sighed, obviously unimpressed.
Glancing up at him for a brief moment, I quickly returned my gaze to the tattered pages, flipping through them a little more aggressively than before.
"I came straight home, like a good little girl, didn't I?" I snipped, ignoring the urge to start an actual argument.
Exhaling slowly, Aizawa approached the end of the bed, placing a hand on the frame post.
"After some deeper thought, I suppose it does sound like those two to pull such a thing. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions..." Rolling my eyes, I dropped the book in my lap and looked to the side, tongue clicking loudly.
"Well, you did. I get that I act like a dumbass sometimes, but I know when to draw a line. If I thought that it would have hurt those girls in any way, I wouldn't have gone along with it." The silence between us was heavy, and I wanted it to end. We had argued in the past, as kids, but it had never been completely serious. For some reason, this time it had really gotten to me.
"I can see that now. My intention wasn't to offend you..." His fingers tapped against the post, and I closed my notebook, slipping it back under the pillow where it lived.
"Right. Anyway, I'm tired. Could you maybe leave me alone?"
I don't actually wanna be alone...but after that, I kinda feel like shit around you...
His tapping paused, and I glanced up to find him with a cocked brow, looking at me with mild disbelief.
"I witnessed you drinking at least seven sodas today. There's no way you could be tired after that, especially when I've seen what sugar does to you."
Was that his way of saying he didn't want to leave? I wasn't sure, but either way, he'd upset me.
"Well, my body says otherwise, so if you don't mind, I'd like to crash out." There was no way I would actually get to sleep any time soon. It was barely six in the evening, and he had been right. With that many sodas, I was in for a long night.
He was definitely taken aback, but he respected my request, gaze lingering for a moment before he began to back himself towards the door.
"Alright...well, there's no class for the next four days, with the second and third year festivals and the weekend, so you're welcome to sleep in..."
He halted in the doorway, waiting for some kind of response, and after a while I caved, running a hand through my (H/C) hair and nodding.
"Yeah, great. Keep the door open. The cats like to come and keep me company at night..."
With the way he stared back at me, I could sense his desire to apologise, but something got in the way. Be it pride, or guilt, whatever it was cut that thought short.
"Sure. Goodnight, (Y/N)..."
"Mmhmm...Night..."
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***Trash? Trash.
Every part of my body seems to be having problems lately and I want to scream.
Next Time: What About Trust?***