#also I am not saying his level of dependency on Katsuki is healthy

[seagreenstardust]

Ochaco gets wounded by villains: Izuku shows the same genuine heartfelt concern he shows to everyone

Katsuki gets injured, kidnapped, threatened or even insulted: Izuku loses his mind, forgets how to be a human, and maybe develops a new quirk in retribution

[comicgeekscomicgeek]

Their Hero Academia – Chapter 38: The Sports Festival Part 11: End Credits

Presenting the next raw and unedited chapter of my on-going, next-gen, My Hero Academia fic, Their Hero Academia!

Earlier chapters can be found here

Katsumi stared dumbly at the scene before them, several long seconds passing before she’s able to process what she’s seen, even with the rest of her class going wild around her. Going wild might actually have been putting it mildly.  Especially where Loud Kid was concerned.  She’d be surprised if Bird Girl, sitting next to him, didn’t have some hearing damage after they’d watched Toshi and the Newb fight.

Toshi and the Moth Girl in third (and the memory of the Moth Girl kicking the crap out of Shiro Monoma was something she was really going to savor), the Horse Girl in second, and the Newb in first place.  What was the world coming to?!

She would, if forced to admit it, confess that the Newb had actually fought hard.  He’d gone full out using his Quirk, never hesitating, even against Izzy, which was something she’d struggled with.  Katsuimi hated to admit it, but she’d probably have been hard pressed to defend against his speed and range.  The Horse Girl, though, she couldn’t believe she’d made it that far.  Especially since she’d won her first match by pissing off her opponent.  It wasn’t a completely unviable strategy, but the way she’d gone about it just made Katsumi’s skin crawl.

“Quite the sweep for our class, isn’t it?” Izzy asked.  

Katsumi nodded.  “You sorry it ain’t you down there?  You nearly beat the Newb and I know you coulda taken Horse Girl and Moth Girl.  Probably Toshi too.”

Izzy smiled and just shook her head.  “Perhaps. I pushed myself harder than I ever had before and did not completely succumb.  I am quite happy with that.”  She gave Katsuki a playful nudge.  “As for winning against them, it is difficult to say, though not completely unlikely.  I did beat you, after all.”

Katsumi stared at her for a moment, then broke into a laugh.  “That sense of humor you’re developing needs some work, Izz.  That definitely wasn’t funny.”

“It was a little funny,” Izzy said.

“It was a little funny,” Katsumi conceded.

Izzy regarded her thoughtfully for a moment.  “And what about you?  I was your first opponent and I defeated you.  Do you regret that you did not make it farther?”

Izzy always was one for the hard hitting questions.  She knew how much winning in general meant to Katsumi and knew that she’d been the direct cause of her loss.  It wasn’t an apology—Katsumi neither expected nor wanted one—but it was an acknowledgement of what had happened.  

“I ain’t embarrassed I lost, if that’s what you’re asking,” Katsumi replied.  She ran her left thumb over the knuckles of her right hand, still sore from where she’d punched Izzy’s ice wall.  “Considering I was going to throw it all away before you talked me into fighting, I’m happy to have made any kind of mark at all.  Can’t even say I’m disappointed.  You put up one hell of a fight.  Just… motivated for the next time around.”

Izzy seemed satisfied with that and nodded.  “Of course, you do realize I will be equally motivated.”

A smile worked its way across Katsumi’s face.  “Then we’ll just have to get stronger together, won’t we?”

Another nod.  “And then I can look forward to kicking your ass again.”

Katsumi felt her eyes go wide.  “Who the hell’s been coaching you in telling jokes?  Is it Sparky and Horse Girl?  Or Ghosty and her gang of idiots?”

Izzy looked confused, exaggerated, faked confusion.  “Joke?”

“I really gotta stop underestimating you.”

***

On the third place platform, Toshi gave Kocho a reassuring grin.  The moth-girl from General Studies seemed down, even though she’d placed. He could understand that, he supposed. The General Studies students who made it to the Tournament always fought hard and any defeat had to be heartbreaking. But she should have been proud of her accomplishments too.

“You did great,” he said. “Almost a new record.  Except for that one year, you did better than anyone else in General Studies.”

She did smile a little bit. “I know,” she said.  “Keep telling myself that.  Still…”

“You really wanted to win,” Toshi said.

“I really wanted to win,” she agreed.  

“Always next year,” he said. The competition in the Second Year Sports Festival was way more intense than the First Year.  It was extremely uncommon for anyone outside of the Hero Courses to get past the first stage, let alone place.  But considering how well she’d done…

“Maybe,” Kocho said. “Think I impressed anyone enough?”

“Could be?” Toshi replied, which wasn’t nearly as reassuring as he’d hoped he’d be.  “I could quote you all kinds of statistics, talk about the people who’ve made the jump over the years, but really, it all really depends on what the teachers and staff see in you.  But you fought hard.  Smart too. I’m rooting for you!”

That did get another small smile out of her.  Maybe that was enough.  Not exactly the heroic victory Toshi had been hoping for, but he’d done what he could.

“All right, folks, let’s give a big hand to our winners! And here to present their medals, former Number One Hero, All Might!”

Grandpa Might’s entrances weren’t quite as dramatic as they might have been in the old days, and he was no longer quite as muscular as he had once been (though far more healthy than he had been prior to Aunt Eri restoring his health) but he was still a large, fit man, and today he wore a version of his old blue, red, white, and yellow costume, tailored to fit.  His trademark smile was on his face and Toshi could easily tell it reached his eyes. In point of fact, Grandpa Might seemed to be practically vibrating with excitement and grandfatherly pride.

“In Third Place,” Present Mic announced, “Koharu Kocho and Toshinori Midoriya!”

Grandpa Might took a moment to steady himself before he approached the platform, first slipping a Bronze Medal over Kocho’s head.  “Young Kocho,” Grandpa Might said, “you showed significant skill and courage today. A credit to yourself and your class.”

His grin grew broader and he embraced her, causing her dark eyes to go wide with surprise.  Grandpa Might was still an incredibly affectionate man. “I think we’ll be seeing great things from you,” he told her.

Grandpa Might turned his attention to Toshi.  “And Young Grandson!”  Toshi thought his face was going to split wide open from the grin.  “Your grandmother and I could not be prouder of you! You’ve done us all proud!  Your dedication to your classmates, your dedication to going Plus Ultra…  You are an example to us all!”

Toshi was pretty sure Grandpa Might was going to cry, but he held it in as he placed the medal over Toshi’s head, then hugged him tight.

“Grandpa… Might…” Toshi squeaked.  “Can’t… breathe…!”

Grandpa Might released him quickly, then rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.  “Ah, sorry, sorry!” he babbled.  “I got a bit carried away there!”

“All right!  Let’s give another round of applause for our Third Place finishers!” Present Mic announced and the crowd went wild.  

“They’re cheering,” Kocho said, eyes wide with wonder.  “They’re really cheering… for me…?”

“For you,” Toshi assured her.  “For both of us.  People love a winner, one way or the other.”

He knew he had a lot to live up to.  His grandfather was one of the greatest Heroes of all time.  His dad was well on his way to matching that, if he hadn’t already. His mom was an incredible Hero in her own right.  Grandma Inko, Grandma Yua, and Grandpa Hideki were all incredible people too.  It would take a long time for him to reach their levels.  But today felt like a pretty good start.

***

On the Third Place platform, Midoriya and Kocho looked proud and pensive, respectfully. Up on the First Place platform, Haimawari looked nervous as hell, shaking like a leaf, an expression of confused awe on his face.  As for Mika…

Finally, she thought, the respect I so clearly deserve.

She already knew what her classmates thought of her.  Oh, for sure, Chihiro and Akaya were her friends, and so were many of the students in 1-B, like Kana, Anime, and Shiro.  But she also knew that people like Aoyama and Shoji dismissed her as trouble and that Kirishima-Bakugo threatened her with violence on a regular basis.  Mika was even well aware of the fact that most of the school considered her to be a perverted joke.  Word got around, after all.  And she would proudly embrace “pervert.”  But joke?  Never.

Maybe, just maybe, a few more people would start taking her more seriously after this.  Of course, if that meant she had to actually start acting more seriously, than forget it.  There were too many super attractive people in this school to give up on trying to get with as many of them as she possibly could before graduation (This would probably one day include sex, but for right now, she’s settle for making out and some fondling.  Her or them. She wasn’t picky.).  

Hell, she’d be surprised if she didn’t have a dozen plus new admirers after today.  Nothing sexier than a girl who could kick ass.  She should probably send the vampire girl, Kan, a gift basket or something though.  She’d gotten the better of her through the utmost use of her provocation skills.   That was rough.  She’d do it again in a heartbeat, and it would probably be great against villains, but she also might well have cost Kan some internship opportunities by making her lose her cool like that.

Blood oranges, maybe? Or was that too much of a joke?

She was also, if truth be told, more than a little worried about the possibility that Daddy had seen way too much of her fights, especially her first one.  It might have finally irrevocability shattered his perception of her as his innocent little girl.  He was supposed to be working today, but if he saw the highlights or something…

He might also try to kill Haimawari.  He’d gotten to full on second base with that last “shove” that had sent her out of the ring. Which would be a shame, to kill somebody with an ass like that.  Of course, Kana was interested in him, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t look at the menu.

“And in second place,” came the voice of Present Mic, “Mika Mineta!”

“Young Mineta,” All Might said, as he approached.  He seemed to be weighing his next words carefully.  Probably trying to decide whether or not to lecture her.  Adults did that a lot.  “You utilized all the skills at your disposal, even if some of them were rather… unconventional.  Take pride in that!  A Hero must be willing to use all their skills, no matter how diverse!  Still, a Hero must also be mindful of their image as well!  It is a balancing act.”

With that, he slipped the Silver Medal over her head, deftly managing not to get it tangled in her horns, which was an impressive feet.  After that, he gave her a brief hug.

As the crowd applauded again, Mika grinned. Second Place.  Not bad, not bad at all.  And Kirishima-Bakugo was sure to be furious about it… which made it all the sweeter.

***

First Place.  He’d won the Sports Festival.  He’d won fights against people demonstrably more powerful than him, like Izumi and Midoriya.  All this time, ever since he’d gotten his acceptance letter, Isamu had questioned whether or not he had what it took to be a Hero, whether or not he even belonged in U.A.  When he’d found out he was in a class with nothing but the children of Pro-Heroes, several of them the children of Top Ten Heroes, that feeling of unworthiness had only sunk in further.

But since coming to U.A., he’d made friends, learned new skills, and pushed himself harder than he’d ever pushed before.  Midoriya, Izumi, Shota…  all his friends believed in him.  And not one of them had treated him like he wasn’t worthy of a place at U.A., no matter his pedigree.  

And now he’d won the whole damn Sports Festival.  And for once, he actually believed that it was really happening to him and wasn’t just part of his coma dream theory.  When they were gathering them up for the closing ceremony, he’d briefly mentioned to Midoriya that he couldn’t believe he’d made it this far.  But then Midoriya had something that had really stuck with him, crashed right through the self-deprecating cloud he’d been living in.

Midoriya had said that he had to believe it, or else he was just making the efforts of everybody who’d been competing and fighting against him worthless.  He’d said that they deserved to have their efforts recognized, not just dismissed as some kind of dream.  It was about respect, Midoriya had told him.

And Isamu had realized he was right.  He’d been so caught up with his own issues, that he hadn’t stopped to think about how that might have been framing everyone else’s efforts.  He respected all of them—even Mineta—too much to do that.

“And now,” Present Mic announced, “your First Place finisher and new Sports Festival Champion…  Isamu Haimawari!”

And then there was All Might before him, Gold Medal in hand.  He’d almost gotten used to having one of the greatest Heroes in the world as his teacher, but had not had a lot of close-up, one-on-one time with the man. He’s not intimidated, not exactly, the man’s too friendly, too smiley, to really be intimidating.  But All Might is still an incredible presence, a reminder of how far he has to go and what he might someday be.

“Young Haimawari,” All Might intoned, giving him that famous grin. “Today, you displayed amazing skill and ability.  You’ve taken a major step on the road to becoming a Hero!  Whatever doubts you may have, know that while your doubts keep you humble, they can also hold you back.  Use this victory as your springboard to self-confidence!  And know that we are all quite proud of you!”

With that, he slipped the medal over Isamu’s head, then hugged him.  Isamu was taller than average, but All Might dwarfed him easily, leaving his head pressed against the man’s muscles.  Fortunately, he survived the hug with nothing crushed.

His parents believed in him. His friends believed in him.  All Might, the greatest Hero of any generation, believed in him.  

Maybe Midoriya was right. The time for moping and self-doubt was over.  He’d earned this.  He could take pride in it.  He could use this to motivate himself, to be the best that he could be.  His confidence issues weren’t going anywhere any time soon.  But he also felt more at ease than he had in a long time.  A competition stocked to the gills with the children of Pro Heroes and the winner was him.  As far as the public knew, a total newcomer to the Hero scene, and known only to him, the son of two very skilled, though long-retired Vigilantes.  Mister Aizawa had been right… this truly was anyone’s game.

And it was his.

“And that’s our winner, folks!  Let’s show all our winners, and all our competitors, just how much we appreciate all of them!  They all went beyond!   PLUSSSSSSSS ULTRAAAAA!”

“Hn.  Do you have to yell so loud?  You’ve already got the microphone.”

***

With two days off before they had to be back in class and permission to go home, Isamu walked the streets of Naruhata for the first time since he’d started U.A.   The moment he’d stepped off the train, he’d felt more relaxed. This was his home turf, the place where he belonged.

People on the train had recognized him as the guy who’d won the Sports Festival.  He’d had total strangers congratulating him and more than a few teenage girls trying to flirt with him.  That had been a little awkward.  But he’d managed.  

Now, back in his own neighborhood, it was familiar faces that congratulated him, names that came easily to his lips.  And finally, his steps carried him to what he always considered sacred ground, The Nice Guy Convenience Store, the convenience store owned by his father, Koichi Haimawari.  It was the place where he offered up convenient foods and goods at reasonable prices, but also where he held court and listened to the problems of the people in the neighborhood.  That Dad had been the Vigilante known as the Crawler was an open secret here, and the people of Naruhata looked after their own and kept it from outside ears and eyes. But if you had a problem, then it was well known the elder Haimawari would do everything in his power to help you. He’d made a lot of friends over the years, knew the right calls to make, the right favors to call on.  Even though he had long been sidelined from being a Vigilante, he was still helping people.

Helping people, he had taught Isamu, was the absolute best thing a person could do in this world, Hero or not.

Isamu stepped towards the store, the automatic doors parting for him with a small whoosh.  “He is the man who won the Sports Festival!” came a voice from the counter.  “My son!”

He felt his face redden. “Daaaad,” Isamu wailed.  “You’re being all dramatic again.”

Dad stepped out from around the counter, slow, careful steps that kept him from aggravating his bad leg. “Can’t blame a dad for being proud, kid.”

“Give your old man a break,” another voice said, gruff and growly, but warm and touched with pride of its own.

A second voice, tense and reedy, added, “He’s had the Sports Festival on all day.  Been glued to the highlights and post-game ever since.”

The voices in question belonged to a short, stocky man with thick muttonchops and hair that came to a point, and to a tall, slim man wearing red-tinged glasses.   They were as familiar a sight to Isamu as anyone, longtime friends of the family from his parents Vigilante days.

“Uncle Jube!  Uncle Ichimoku!  I didn’t know you were going to be here!”

Uncle Jube laughed at that. “Wouldn’t have missed it, kid. Besides, somebody had to keep any eye on the place while your old man was glued to the TV.”

Uncle Ichimoku pushed his glasses up on his nose.  “You did great, Isamu.  Fushichou said to tell you she’s proud of you.”

Fushichou was Uncle Ichimoku’s daughter, with a telekinetic Quirk.  Together with Uncle Jube’s daughter Mujina, who had a Quirk that gave her double-wooden knives in her hands, they too were familiar and friendly presences in his life, despite being several years older than him.  He’d harbored a bit of a crush on Mujina at one point, actually.  They’d both gone to other Hero schools, but had encouraged him to try out for U.A.

He was glad he’d listened.

“Where’s Mom?” he asked.

“If I know your mother, she’s already put together a surprise party for you,” Dad said.  He hesitated, then added, “…Well, she’s probably gone out and picked up a cake.   …She’s probably raided the freezer for ice cream.  …If we leave now, there might still be some for us.”

Isamu had to laugh at that. It was certainly an accurate description of his mom.  Planning and organization were not exactly her strong suits.  Her desk in her office looked like a paper bomb had gone off in it and she was perpetually up against the wall on her deadlines.

“You okay closing up early?” he asked his dad.

“Sure,” Dad said.  “Benefits of owning the place.  People will understand.”

Dad gave him another look over, a faraway look in his eyes.  

“You, ah, you okay, Dad?” he asked.

“Just… so proud of you,” Dad said.  “I’m proud of the work me and your mom did.  We helped a lot of people.  Maybe even helped save the city once.  Small works do wonders and I was proud to be a friendly neighborhood Vigilante.  But you… you’re going to be truly spectacular, amazing, sensational… and a whole bunch of adjectives I haven’t even thought of yet.”

“Daaad,” Isamu wailed again. “Don’t be so mushy, okay?”   But he was smiling.

Dad went on, “So.  Any idea what Heroes might try scouting you?”

…He hadn’t thought about that!