Shigaraki played games.
Izuku considered what he did…more of a sport.
“You are such a little shit!” Kacchan yelled, using his Quirk to blast away from the window Izuku had just leapt from. He smashed into the wall just above Izuku’s head, grabbing the fire escape to keep from falling and immediately dashed up the steps after him. “I am going to break your legs!”
Because when Kacchan got involved it wasn’t just a playdate for two, it was entertainment for everyone within two blocks of their clash. He wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if there were team flags made up from the people of the city who could expect a match like clockwork once a month.
Izuku slammed his hands onto the top ledge of the building and pushed up, vaulting himself over the edge. He felt the heat of Kacchan’s explosions on his back as his feet hit the roof. The hydraulics of his newest toy moved his limbs fluidly from the squat into a sprint. The lightweight leg braces did most of the work, putting him in at a top speed of thirty-three miles per hour, which was leagues above his usual twenty-two.
Kacchan clocked in at thirty-nine once at the height of his training, but after chasing after Izuku around town for close to thirty minutes, he was struggling to keep up and it showed with every other curse that came out of his mouth as his chest heaved.
Support Gear was the best.
Izuku dreaded when it broke, since he had stolen it in the first place and had no one to repair it, but for now he’d enjoy the extra fun.
Kacchan launched himself with his Quirk, abandoning his legs to shoot himself past and to the front. Izuku slid as he turned, throwing himself out of the way. He rolled and got back up to keep running. At the edge of the roof, he threw himself over, grabbing the nearest light pole along the way.
His backpack jostled as he spun down toward the ground, rattling his latest catch in the bag. Izuku almost stopped to adjust it and make sure the fragile contents wouldn’t break, but Kacchan slammed into the concrete to his left, eyes burning and teeth clenched so tightly his lip curled more than usual.
“You’re not getting away this time, Deku!” Kacchan roared, using Izuku’s slight moment of hesitation to propel himself forward with his Quirk. He threw a punch and Izuku dodged from muscle memory alone. Kacchan’s fist clipped his hair and the momentum brought their faces close enough together that Izuku could see his pupils: Kacchan was really mad this time. He yelled, “Get over here!”
Izuku had to block Kacchan’s grab, wincing from the force of it. The fury came from him more than usual and Izuku had to think as he grappled with Kacchan, who’d forgone using his Quirk now that they were in close combat. Whatever was in his backpack, Kacchan must have really wanted to keep in one piece.
But what was it this time that had him so angry?
They had a routine: Izuku stole something, making sure to pick Kacchan’s patrol night so he’d be the first on call, they’d have their match and Izuku would try out his newest toy to fight the Pro Hero. When Kacchan got the item back, he was usually in a good mood the next month. When he lost it, he was aggravated, but usually he just tried harder to catch Izuku.
Or gave up entirely and destroyed the stolen goods in question trying to get Izuku, which the young thief considered to be a draw since neither of them got what they wanted.
He’d won the last time, though, so this current level of anger seemed out of place.
“Considering all I stole this time was a bunch of mass market jewelry from a chain store,” Izuku said, using Kacchan’s next swipe to twist his arm around and get him in a hold. He slammed Kacchan against the wall, both of their muscles straining. “You seem a little overly furious. What’s up? Is something wrong?”
“You’re out here robbing stores and making me play tag instead of visiting your mother on her birthday, nerd! Why do you think I’m angry?” Kacchan hissed in his face, jerking his arm in Izuku’s hold. “Because your mom is going to whine to mine and I’m going to hear about this for the rest of the year!”
Izuku pouted. “Kacchan, I think I know when my mother’s birthday is.”
He’d half considered giving her something in the bag he’d stolen tonight as a present since most of it was identical to fifty other pieces that looked just like it in the various chain stores around the country. Assuming he won tonight’s match, of course.
Kacchan relaxed in Izuku’s hold, looking more exasperated than angry. “What day do you think it is?”
“The third,” Izuku said, glancing at a street clock. A few people took pictures of them on their phone as they stood there “locked in a draw” as he was sure the news would report later. “There’s still like ten minutes before her birthday and I’m not visiting her in the middle of the night.”
“It’s the fourth, you idiot,” Kacchan said. He shifted, twisting his arm so Izuku could see the flat, digital watch under his gauntlet glove. “Her birthday is over in ten minutes.”
“Oh,” Izuku said, wincing.
“Yeah, ‘Oh’,” Kacchan said back.
“Yeah, you win tonight,” Izuku said. He kicked Kacchan in the stomach and threw his backpack at his face before sprinting down the road. Izuku yelled over his shoulder, “I’ll get you next time, Ground Zero!” for the crowds before hightailing it to the nearest train station.
There were some things you just didn’t play games with.