Chapter Text
Perspiration trickled from her hairline down her forehead, body ungodly warm as she worked to calm her breathing. In and out. Incessant nerves wracked along her as her skin prickled like hundreds of little pins pierced it. Foot tapped repeatedly against the tile of the waiting room, time seemed impossibly slow, snail-like even as your eyes flicked to the clock every other second.
Closer. Thirty more minutes.
The walls seemed to be closing in, her breath hitched, mouth dry as a desert. A wave of emotion coursed through her, how forceful it smacked against her frame as it kept her in a limbo. Limbo of worries, of dejections, and concerns. Her gut curdled once more, nausea rising up her throat that she swallowed down hard.
Closing her eyes, she could not stop the barrage– memories of the randomizer from hours ago that chose her fate. Flashes of two names for U.A. University’s ‘start of the post summer break’ hero’s (and any support students who applied) bracket were at the forefront of her mind. Hana Ito vs. Katsuki Bakugou . Her name. Against someone who could wipe the floor with her, demolish her, possibly kill her.
She shuddered at the thought, wishing her counselor had taken her plight to be disincluded seriously. But no, there was an odd amount, she had to participate. Her only saving grace was that only the University would be in attendance, unlike Festivals.
Fists clenched atop the table she sat at. Nails dug into the skin, breaking the surface in crescents as red trickled from her palms. She stared at the droplets of blood atop the table, a slow itching then fast paced tingling from the bottom of her spine up to your head. Then the idea hit her.
For the first three semesters at U.A. University, she hid within general education classes while the heroes turned professors pushed her to join the hero classes. But she could not. She would not. She would cower, instead, pray they would let her build up her quirk on her own as Chiyo Shuzenji aided her.
Yet she should have known it would not last, that her sudden arrival to B classes from gen ed halfway through year two after the Summer Break, would be what might break her.
Her blood quirk, how easily it could be used in combat against a living being, yet it was not what she wanted. That if she had understood how to use it all those years ago, she could have saved her father’s life! How his blood seeped out on the floor, her small voice begging her quirk to mend the bleed. But nothing. So to be a medical professional in areas she could be of use, was what she wanted. To never see a day of action in her life followed close second.
But holding onto that hope was futile now. And as the only good idea for a plan of action against Bakugou lingered in her brain, she knew she wanted to try. A serene calmness seemed to suck her under the tumultuous waves that she had once struggled to stay afloat in. The tightening of her chest which felt like claws shredded her from the inside out, loosened ever so slightly.
A knock sounded at the door, Hana perked up from her spot trapped at the desk. Discarding the blanket wrapped around her shoulders atop her bed, she pushed past the ajar sliding shoji door and passed the small kitchenette and door to her bathroom. Nerves fluttered in her stomach as she wondered- worried- who it could be at this hour. For a split second it was fear that ignited as she imagined it would be Him coming back to finish her. Him, the reason for her nightmares. With a deep breath, she steeled herself and opened the door.
“Shinsou!” Her eyes lit up at the sight of her former classmate as she opened the door, “come in.”
His tired eyes seemed to perk up as he nodded, entering past. A scent of sweat mixed with fresh cedar hit her nostrils.
“How are you?”
The plastered smile on her lips flickered. She sensed the second meaning and it threw her for a loop, she hadn’t expected to be re-visiting this. Not this soon.
“Ah good. First week back and… surprisingly drowning in work already.”
“You shouldn’t have had to leave gen ed.” He said, cutting right to the chase.
“Hito…” The second meaning to his question she had just caught by the intensity of his tone had been correct. She smiled sadly at him. “I was too scared to tell you, anyone really.”
“How are they treating you?”
She hummed a simple response, urging him to follow her past the shoji doors into the main part of her dorm. Shinsou sat on the futon whilst she plopped on the bed.
“Will you compete on Saturday?”
“Sadly, there would be an uneven amount if I was left out. Surprising amount of support students wanted in.” Hana fiddled with the edge of a blanket, feeling his intense gaze.
“Remember, you get weak quickly when you use your own blood.”
“I know.”
Silence. When had she seen Shinsou last? Before Summer break? They had talked consistently over said break, but how quickly the relationship with him changed after he found her that fateful night. He’d been a practical stranger until eight months ago, now he was one of her most trusted confidants. Except they would no longer be classmates much to her dismay, her in B classes and him moved to A classes after their first year.
“You have a few days, we should train. What kind of shape are you in?”
“My endurance is good, still running. My sister convinced me to take self defense classes with her too, so my balance and reaction time is better.”
He nodded, “okay, tomorrow lets meet, we can workout.”
“Thank you.” Was all she could say as a watery mist took over her vision, how easy it was for Shinsou to come up with a game plan, to help. It was as if no time had passed, effortlessly falling back into watching her back. She looked away, shame rising on her cheeks under his gaze. There was a slight trembling in her fingers, as she realized He would be watching on Saturday.
“You’re up Ito.” A deep voice broke her train of thought. She nodded towards one of the professors who stood watching from the doorway. Agitation on their face.
“Coming.” She called out, voice involuntarily wavering. She wished to speak to Shinsou one last time, to run her newer plan past him, to hear words of encouragement even if they would not reach her ears.
With her heart hammering in her chest, she squared her shoulders and left the locker room. Her footsteps echoed on the cement of the corridor that seemed to go on for far too long, her heart in her throat as it hammered profusely.
A bizarre gravitational pull seemed to be what kept her feet walking forward. One foot in front of another. Closer. The light at the end of the tunnel from the University’s indoor stadium was just on the horizon. Reverberating through her was the sound of rain pelting the glass ceiling of the building, she hadn’t been able to hear it from the locker rooms where she waited. The bustle of student chatter reached her ears, as she stood in the expansive entryway that opened to a lifted platform.
The weight of His eyes. The tile that dug into her skin, blood spreading into the cracks. Embarrassment. Anger. Fear. So heavy, like tons on her body, as if she was too close to the sun with how a flustering red heat swarmed across her. Hana decided that death would have been kinder in this moment.
Hana hardened herself, fists clenching at her side, and made her way up a small set of stairs and into bounds. The air seemed to shift once her feet passed the white lines. Bakugou stood in all his glory, arms crossed, and a viciously prideful grin on his lips. Oh it felt like the world was caving in. Like she would hurl right there. How heavy the gazes of all the University’s students and faculty were. The loud chants of Present Mic. She wished she withdrew before having the chance to ever walk out, a lump in her throat refused to budge as she swallowed.
“I’ll give you the chance to forfeit, girl.”
And when she said nothing, when she did not move an inch, he smirked. And perhaps it was when he spoke in such a cruel tone, that something ignited inside her. That his obnoxious reputation and fiery fighting style, his towering height and bulging muscles… She wanted to fight back.
“Then I’ll kill you.”
The moments before the match began, the final pieces of calmness that lingered in her limbs began to subside. A heaviness. A weight in her stomach that only grew. Yet it was at the start as the crowd went wild, when she knew to take action first- everything went silent. She blocked it all out, unable to hear the blaring cheers or wicked noises of horns and whistles.
Hana needed blood for her quirk, unable to make her own. So she needed Bakugou to bleed… and herself too. And the latter would come quickly with how Bakugou fought. She made the first move. Let her lungs burn with each attempt after attempt. Let his blasts hurt her each time she smacked against the pavement, her skin opened, scraped and precious blood trickled that she could use. Any from him would help tremendously though.
“Give it up!” Bakugou yelled out at one point, but in her ears it was lost. Just enough, just enough. A barrage of red in her right eye, warmth trickling down from her head. Split open. Good. Her mind spun, vision wonky but with one final attempt she dashed forward.
Her nails on his open skin, raked down, droplets sprinkled into the air. Her quirk came to life- burgundy red swirled in the air as the thin amount of blood split and tripled its molecules, swirling around Bakugou, his eyes strained wide. An excitement over the crowd.
The blood closed in on Bakugou, spreading itself over his mouth and nostrils. But he was faster, even as the liquid chased after him from the spot she commanded it. Bakugou was on her before she could counter or flee. Flung back. Body against the cement with an umph , head bouncing against the hard surface. Unconscious upon impact, bruised, burned, and scraped.
And it was through the blistering heat, a searing pain on his bicep from where she grazed him, then a numbing tingling overtaking his body that kept him entranced. His muscles flexed, face red hot as every inch of him went dangerously still, taut- knees locked. Gaze fixated on her stunned body when he finally saw it. The school’s arena went quiet, hushed whispers as professors hurried down.
A staggeringly bright, fluorescent line jutted out from one of her fingers and connected to his. Red string of fate . Bakugou swore aloud.