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kitpu · Feb 16, 2019

Izuku had been attentive enough to learn that the newest transfer student's name was Elizabeth Sharp. The other American student to have transferred into U.A. had come only a week prior to her, a stoic and aloof girl that had already made her way into the top rungs of 1-A's power hierarchy with a quirk she hadn't ever felt the need to talk or brag about, but instead blow everyone away with its sheer strength wordlessly during the most recent battle simulation. Needless to say, between herself and this unknown blonde girl, the class—and more than that the school—had been abuzz that whole week with chatter and curiosity about the two mystery girls. Mineta and Kaminari were already muttering to each other about the looks of both girls.

The boy had already made sure to get all he could from de Rios regarding her quirk, and had scribbled down details he'd been able to pick up from her performance in battle. Now, it was Elizabeth's turn. It would be a while yet until there was another chance for the class to show off their talents, since the last simulation had been only a couple of days ago. Meaning, if Izuku wanted to get any information about Elizabeth's abilities straightaway, it would require him bridging the gap himself. And what was wrong with that? She seemed nice enough, from what he could tell. Once upon a time, he might have been averse to leaving his comfort zone on a whim like that. Now was another matter; U.A. was different, and he had a quirk that had garnered him respect and confidence, atop it all.

So like that, he'd made his decision. Come the very start of lunch, when the tables were mostly empty as students edged past one another to get their food as quickly as they could manage, Izuku made it his duty to locate Elizabeth. He'd followed her from a distance when the bell had rung and they'd been dismissed from homeroom. Rather than waiting in line like everyone else, she'd settled at a table by herself, presumably waiting for the crowd to shorten. Izuku straightened his posture, nodding to himself as if in assurance, and approached.

"Hey!" was what he started with, clutching his tattered, scorch mark covered journal against his chest. "Sharp, right? I'm Midoriya Izuku." He gave a vague gesture with his head to the empty seat beside her, curls of his coarse hair bouncing as he did. "Do you mind if I sit with you?"
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Golden light careened over the trees from above, glinting off of the metal doors guarding the school. It was still taking time for Mika to accommodate to the longer and more strenuous schedule of Japanese schools, and though her face rested neutral, something of idle awe gripped her as she realized how close to the horizon the setting sun had dipped. Her hands were shoved in the pockets of her skirt, the oversized male version of the school uniform jacket slouched over her shoulders. School that day had been just the same as the few days she'd experienced prior, aside from the fact that another transfer student had arrived. It didn't bother her any. Unlike some of the other students in 1-A, she didn't feel the need to size up those around her, to study their abilities. One way or another, her quirk, as many that week had learned, was nothing to scoff at. There was a reason she'd overshadowed the others on the waiting list.

As she continued onward, listening to the sound of her own combat boots striking the pavement, somewhere farther off, she heard the sound of someone walking—no, stomping—ever closer. It didn't earn a turn of her head like it would from most, obnoxious though it was. Rationally, the waterbender figured that whoever it was wasn't looking for her. And that's where she was wrong.

The footfalls grew to the volume and proximity in which they could no longer be dismissed, and Mika glanced their owner's way. Not much, but slightly. Bakugou. He was in 1-A, like her; and though she couldn't hope to remember the names of everyone, his was one she knew because he was notorious. Most of the time, during class, he remained silent. Not silent in an asocial or quiet by nature sort of way, but in the way that suggested he believed the others weren't worth his time or effort. When he was given free reign, however, neither his quirk nor his attitude were to be reckoned with. He was powerful and so was his tongue. He'd spit his words at anyone who crossed him in the form of venom. It was obvious by now that he was approaching her, after all.

Dark eyes narrowed as he neared her, and already Mika was pulling an agitated, slow breath in and out of her nose. What could he want?

Marzopup · Feb 17, 2019

Elizabeth had never lived away from home before. Granted, she had never lived at home before, at least not in the sense that she'd felt a sense of permanence wherever she was laying her head at the time. But France, Germany, Japan, America, every army base was pretty much the same, save for the people and maybe some of the food in the commissary.

It felt strange, living in a normal apartment instead of the military installation, but Elizabeth couldn't be happier about going to UA. She worked hard to get past the language barrier to pass the written exams, and she worked hard to be noticed during the Sports Festival so she should transfer. She hadn't been able to make the cut for hero course, initially; nerves had gotten the best of her, and it was difficult to think straight when her silver was putting her in excruciating pain.

The thought made Elizabeth’s hand come up to gently press against her neck, where her necklace rested hidden under her uniform. She knew what she could have done if she wasn’t wearing it; the thought made her shake her head. Elizabeth couldn’t use her quirk that way, wouldn’t. What kind of hero fought monsters by turning into one?

She tried not to think about it, instead focusing on lunch. Elizabeth had not spoken to anyone yet; she was used to keeping to herself. She gave off a distinct air of 'don't bother me' with her perpetual slight scowl, periodically twitching nose, and tendency to stare rather intensely...usually at nothing in particular, but occasionally not, much to the dismay of whoever felt like they were being watched. The only girl she considered going out of her way to talk to was the other student that had transferred in before her; de Rios was American, which made Elizabeth feel just a little less lonesome just knowing she was in the class. And American meant English, and Elizabeth missed that.

But honestly, what would she even say? Talking to people wasn't really her...strongest skill. Nope. Best to focus on what she was good at. Like eating...Elizabeth almost rolled her eyes when she opened her bento box. Peanut butter, rolled up in a tortilla so she could eat it with chopsticks like sushi. Her mom was really trying to get into the whole Japanese thing. Before she could dig in, someone's voice made her startle slightly, eyes wide as her head whipped toward the voice.

Oh. Midoriya. Green haired kid, seemed rather nerdy, but surprisingly popular. Mumbled a lot to himself about peoples' quirks and strategies--she tried not to listen, but with her hearing it was hard to miss. And he always carried a worse-for-wear notebook, which he was clutching against his chest as he talked to her.

He wanted...to sit with her?...

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, staring at him. She couldn't see why it would hurt. "I...guess I don't mind," she answered. "Midoriya. You came...eight in the Sports Festival, right?" She finished hesitantly, trying to come up with a decent topic of conversation. She pulled her bento box closer to her chest, feeling a little self conscious. Peanut butter sandwich sushi felt kind of...baby-ish.

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People called Bakugo an asshole with a temper. He saw it a little differently. To him, it was a problem of having a low tolerance for bullshit in a world that seemed to almost conspire to throw bullshit at him from all sides. The past few weeks, for instance, had been particularly testing. The Sports Festival fucking sucked; all that hard work thrown down the drain because Icy Hot needed to humiliate him, and then All Might and the rest of the teachers tied him up just to really rub it in. He destroyed that medal as soon as he'd gotten home--melted it with his quirk into a crumpled mass he'd thrown in the back of his closet, never to be seen again.

But it wasn't just the Sports Festival grinding his gears. The last straw was when Aizawa had introduced yet another transfer into their class--another damn American girl, a blonde that didn't say a single word to everyone after saying hello. Her, Bakugo could tolerate, but why was it fair that they were bringing in a new kid after a few months? Why the fuck did she deserve to be in hero course after one good showing at the Sports Festival when she couldn't cut it during the practical?

Even so, she wasn't much of Bakugo's concern. It was the other one that was Bakugo's concern. Mika de Rios. A girl that started school late, coming in on recommendation, and proceeded to wipe away most of the class. Sometimes pretty literally. She didn't intimidate him. But after she'd kicked ass again in class that day, Bakugo was feeling to need to make sure she was intimidated by him. He'd shown Todoroki he was a force to be reckoned with. It was time to make sure the new kid knew that she would need to watch her back.

With the school day over Bakugo had unbuttoned his collar, his untied tie hanging from his neck, hands shoved in his pockets so that his pants rode low. As he got closer to her she glanced back at him, and Bakugo's jaw worked back and forth. She clearly looked annoyed at his presence, and Bakugo stopped suddenly, lips curling.

"Tch," he huffed. He raised his voice. "Hey, Sprinkler!" He shouted, planting his feet. He raised one hand, sparks dancing along it. "Just so you know," he growled, "don't think because you've got a little beginner's luck that you can walk around thinking you're top shit." He clenched his hand into a fist. "If you tnink you can waltz in after a couple of months like you've been here the whole time, you've got another thing coming. So get that through your head!"

kitpu · Feb 17, 2019

Izuku was happy to be given permission to share her company, and after giving a thankful, wide grin and nod, sat himself beside her. He made sure to give her enough distance so as to not make her uncomfortable, knowing he himself had been a bit intimidated by close proximity at first after the hell that was his middle school years. She seemed uneasy regardless, though, and Izuku couldn't help but grimace a bit in worry as he shifted to get comfortable in the booth. He needed to provide some explanation for this, he realized, as he pushed his notebook into his lap beneath the table. He didn't want to give her the wrong impression—that he only wanted to associate with her to learn about her quirk. After all, it couldn't hurt to have another friend. Not having an in-group was stressful. It was lonely. He had been well-acquainted with that life.

"Sorry if this is weird, or something," he began, a soft, tense laugh spilling out of his throat as he peered down at the visible edge of his journal. He played with its corner, rolling the worn paper between his calloused thumb and index finger. Then, she asked him about the Sports Festival. A sudden strike of optimism brought the octave of his voice back up along with his gaze. Looking to her, he smiled. "Yeah! I—well, uh, wow. To be honest I...I wasn't really expecting anyone to remember where I placed, or what all I did. After all, the finalists were the real stars, right? They deserved to get where they ended up." A pause overtook him as he considered that day, gaze following the pallid divots in the flesh of his hand, the permanent reminders of his carelessness. "Plus," he began, lifting his hand onto the table and tracing the scars with his fingers, "I still don't have good control over my quirk yet. I really pushed myself too hard that time."

Realizing he was rambling as he so often did, Izuku shook his head at himself, an embarrassed gasp leaping from him. She was scarcely more than a stranger, and he was already putting all this on her? He needed to reign in that instinct before it really screwed him over.

"Sheesh—sorry. I went off on a tangent again." He stretched out his arms and back, pushing his palms into his thighs, trying to get the tension out. The rest of that uneasy breath came out of him along with it. "I do that a lot. It's a habit." Relaxing again, he greeted her eyes with vibrant green ones of his own. "If you don't mind me asking, though, why'd you decide to come to U.A.?" He'd been ready to ask about her day but stopped himself and exchanged the inquiry for that which he'd spoken aloud. Best not to poke where it was sore; she certainly hadn't seemed to be enjoying herself, so he wouldn't pry.
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And like that, he was there, snarling and barking words at her with all the grace of a feral dog. Most would've recoiled at that, retreated into submissive instinct so as to protect themselves from Bakugou's wrath. But why let him push her around like that? It was people like this that aggravated her the most: they thought they could go around, getting whatever they so damn pleased just because they had a fancy quirk and enough balls to lash out like Neanderthals at whoever stood in their way. No, she wasn't so easy to subdue. As he planted his feet, threatened her with the beginnings of an explosion in his palm, she merely quirked a black eyebrow, the silver piercing nesting on either side of it following suit.

"Wow. How nice of you to throw me a little welcome party," Mika snorted, deep voice coiling out like a viper from thick lips that were vaguely craned upwards in amusement. "You normally do this? Pitch yourself around and try to assert your territory like some rabid animal in heat? Or do you just do this for new kids?" The anger and assertion in his intonation was not found in Mika's; she kept her speech steady, low, aloof—which was a message in of itself. She wasn't going to let him shake her.

She shifted her weight onto one leg, tights pulling taut over the muscles that were utilized to do so. Mika's steady stare was sharp and imposing, what with her dark eyeliner and her eyes' natural catlike upturn. She didn't try to repress the slight squint that came to it, borne of irritation.

"Like it or not, amigo, I'm not going fuckin' anywhere," the girl continued, and her shoulders eased upwards in a shrug. "You can be as upset as you want about the whole thing. I don't give a shit, frankly. Considering everyone else has taken to me just fine, I don't exactly see a problem with making myself right at home." She rolled her tongue piercing between her back teeth a moment before speaking again. "Oh, and—" A deep snicker was heard as she shook her head and lolled it to the side. "—you don't screw over a whole 80 students ahead of you on the waiting list with 'beginner's luck'. Maybe you should get that through your head first, jackass."

Marzopup · Feb 17, 2019

Elizabeth listened to Midoriya as he spoke, head tilting slightly to the side as he spoke about the Sports Festival. She could kind of appreciate the way he was giving her space; she thought a gesture like this would make her feel more embarrassed. The loser kid that needed someone to sit with her at lunch. But Midoriya was so earnest that it truly didn't feel that way at all. Her eyes widened a little when he talked about his quirk, unable to stop herself from following his gaze to the scars on his hand. A quirk he didn't have good control over yet...

She understood that better than anyone. She had her own permanent reminders of the toll her quirk took on her body. The shadow of her necklace burned permanently into her neck; the stretch marks across her back, her stomach, her thighs, even her upper arms when her body grew and shrank. Unlike Midoriya, she was able to hide it all under collared shirts and long sleeves. He met her own rather intense gaze and Elizabeth, somewhat relaxed by his friendly demeanor, risked opening her bento box and grabbing the chopsticks her mom had packed for her.

Why was she going to UA? What kind of question was that, exactly? Elizabeth didn't even think that in a mean way it just...seemed self evident. Why would anyone be attending hero school? To become a hero...? She grabbed a piece of her 'peanut butter sushi' and failed; she tried it again, and failed again. Deciding it was more embarrassing to continue trying and failing, Elizabeth settled for just stabbing it with a chopstick and quickly getting it into her mouth. She felt that Midoriya deserved at least a somewhat detailed answer since he was being so nice.

"...My father transferred here for his work," Elizabeth said after she swallowed. Her tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth, trying to get the last bits of peanut-y goop that refused to go down. "He was transferred to Yokusuka. He's in Iraq right now, though. America is...not the best country for heroes." As proud as she was to be an American, it would be disingenuous to lie about that. "We don't have schools like this there...there's classes you can take in college. Like All Might. But becoming a hero in America is like getting a driver's license. Very easy. I can take a test as soon as I turn sixteen certifying that I can use my quirk responsibly and I can pretty much do whatever I want."

She took another bite. Elizabeth's voice was the same, usual monotone she spoke with, albeit it a tad softer. "It feels so much more...fulfilling earning it this way," she finished. "Like I really deserve to call myself a hero, you know." She looked back up from her meal to gaze at Midoriya again. "What about you?"

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So this was new.

If Bakugo had to put a number on it, he'd say that his victims rolled over about 80% of the time. Very uncommon, but also not unheard of, and he had to admit since starting UA the ratio probably leaned a little more toward not rolling over now. But even when they didn't? It was in a pathetic, half hearted way like Deku, squeaking out an attempt at telling him to back off. Or like Kirishima, letting his comments roll off his back until Bakugo decided it was boring to go out of his way to antagonize them. Even Kaminari, who called his personality reminiscent of raw sewage, was more of a Kirishima type.

He'd never had someone take his venom and spit it back and then some. Bakugo's face started to turn red from anger, nails digging into his palms, as he continued to have a staredown with the girl before him. Were all American girls such bitches? As if to add insult to injury, she kept her voice low and calm while she casually threw insults at him. Bakugo's teeth clenched. He made sure to match her stare, eyes narrowing, lowering his head just a little like a bull preparing to charge.

"Well you don't get first in the entrance exam or the Sports Festival with beginner's luck either, asshole," he growled. His job done, and deciding she wasn't worth the time or the effort, Bakugo started to walk in her direction. "Make yourself at home if you fucking want. More people in the class just means a better variety of asses I get to kick every day. Try getting attacked by villains sometime and maybe I'll be impressed."

He walked past her, making sure to bump into her shoulder just to get the last word in. "Out of my way, Slip n' Slide!" He barked.

kitpu · Feb 17, 2019

He listened to her attentively as she spoke, large, mono-lidded eyes kept wide with his interest as she described America's system and what aspects of her family life lead to her settling here. She knew about All Might, too, which even mention of had brought a stirring sense of excitement to his gut; he'd always wondered how notorious certain heroes were in other countries. Japan was small. As amazing as the heroes there were, surely other places had to have ones of a similar caliber, right? So did they even have time to worry about people like Endeavor, Best Jeanist, Hawks, and Mt. Lady? He'd need to do more research. Maybe ask more questions.

It was a moment before he realized how dumb his conversation starter had probably sounded, and it was gathered from the look of pure confusion she'd shot at him prior to talking. Sure, it seemed like a relatively self-explanatory question, he was sure, but there were countless hero schools scattered about the country, the students they held all with varying objectives and interests. He'd chosen U.A. because he was, as All Might had said, a hopeless fanboy. U.A. was where many of the best heroes came to achieve their brightest futures. He'd seen far too many amazing people come out of it to keep his endlessly fluttering heart from hoping to eventually be among them. But it had its drawbacks, too: it was nigh impossible to get into the hero course if you didn't bring your all to the entrance exams, first of all, and even if you got in, U.A. had a grueling way of training its students that turned no small number of heads the opposite direction.

Regardless, Izuku was stubborn. To a fault, even. Difficulty and a struggle weren't able to beat him down for long. His tenacity was unparalleled, and that was the exact reason he'd begun to at last gain some control over One For All, which had been at one time indomitable. At the same time, it was also solely responsible for how his fingers and the joints in his arms would sometimes begin to ache and sting, even now that they'd been healed. He refused to speak about it, sure, but Recovery Girl knew just as well as he did what the truth was.

"Well," he began, dropping his gaze to the fingers he was wringing in his lap. Once a nervous instinct, he still did it now even when he'd found it within himself to relax every once in a while. There was no uneasiness present on his face then, either. Just thoughtfulness. "I guess it's just always been a dream of mine. Being a hero, U.A., everything. Even though it was really hard to get here, I'm on the right path now, so I couldn't be happier even if it's still difficult." His mouth curved, carving small divots into his soft cheeks. "Guess we're kinda alike then, huh? We both want to do it the hard way so that it feels like it was the best way in the end."
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She rolled her eyes as he brushed—no, forced—his way past her. Turning to face his retreating back, she idled on the sidewalk, unsaid Spanish insults ricocheting around in her skull, begging to be said aloud. Instead, she decided to rub salt in the wound she was sure was there after listening to his bragging; she'd seen his little breakdown herself on television prior to being fully enrolled at the school. While she wasn't able to compete in the event herself, she had no doubts in her mind that she would've scored well. It was a mistake to dish out a boast so fragile and easily refuted.

"If I remember correctly, your 'first place' likely only happened because that Todoroki kid had some issues he needed to work the hell out and didn't use half of his quirk. I don't doubt you've got some fuckin' skill, but don't go acting like you yourself thought that win was fair. I saw your meltdown on that podium," she retorted sharply, though her volume was still at ease. His offending shoulder, lingering near her, was promptly shoved aside with an unkind elbow as she herself went about beginning to walk. She passed him when the recoil of her retaliation had slowed him, and once again rooted herself to the ground before him. "You think I'm stupid? I know damn well why you came out here." Intensely black and thick eyelashes inched inwards as her gaze was squinted at him. "You don't waste your time with people that don't intimidate you in some way. That much is obvious. Why else would you have only lashed out at Izuku and Todoroki all this week?"

Mika was already on a first name basis with Izuku after the discussion regarding her quirk her first day. She considered them friends. If that was at all heat to the fire, it wouldn't have occurred to her, and so she said it with ease. Although, it wouldn't have bothered her even it had come to mind.

"So if that much is true, I have just a word of advice: if you go around asserting your victory before you claim it, it's gonna bite you in the ass one day. Gonna be hella embarrassing for you." She snorted and crossed her arms beneath her bust, a shake of her head making waves of her cherry red hair dance with one another before settling over her shoulders again. "I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, you know, before all of this. 1-B and even some of the kids in our class said some reaaal nasty shit about you. Doubt you care, but good to know that at the very least they weren't lying."

With that, she was starting off once again, back turned to him but her muscles kept rigid in case he decided to attack.

Marzopup · Feb 18, 2019

They were...kind of alike? Elizabeth let that sink in. It was hard to wrap her mind around--that this fluffy green haired boy was somehow a kindred spirit. They couldn't have looked more different, certainly, with Elizabeth's near permanent scowl and Midoriya's bright, happy smile. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of admiration within her that grew when he described how becoming a hero had been his dream. Elizabeth took another bite of her lunch, and she allowed herself a very small smile. "I...suppose we are?" She answered.

She had nothing else to say. Why couldn't she ever come up with anything to say? He was being so nice, and she was just staring at him. She cleared her throat.

"...thank you for sitting with me," she finally said. "I didn't mind sitting by myself," she added hastily, not wanting to sound weird, "I enjoy...quiet..." And calm. Both things that worked very well for her quirk and were necessary. Places like lunchrooms were bad for her; all the auditory stimulation after too long made her start to feel agitated. Having someone's voice to focus on actually helped with that, somewhat. Casting about for a way to keep their conversation going, she thought back to the notebook he'd now hidden in his lap.
u
"That book," she pointed out, "you take it everywhere, so I don't think it's just a class notebook..." She tilted her head to the side, gesturing vaguely toward it with her chopsticks. "Unfortunately my Japanese is still kind of rusty...I'm not sure what the cover says." She grabbed the milk bottle her mom had packed. "What is in it, if you don't mind me asking?"

The cap wouldn't come off. She just couldn't get a good grip on it. Elizabeth finally settled with using her teeth, sharp canines digging deep lines into the plastic as she twisted. When the cap finally relented, she took a long gulp, licking the mustache away from her lips.

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His entire body went rigid when she decided to go for the jugular. It was a low blow, in his opinion; one reserved only for someone wanting a death wish. A much deeper cut than oooooh that's not very heroic Bakugo or I refuse to be your punching bag, Kacchan. She really wasn't scared of him at all, huh?

That was...

Infuriating.

As much as Bakugo fought with himself, as much as he told himself to walk away and take it out in hero course, he couldn't. He whipped around, shouting at her retreating back,

"What, are you my therapist now or somethin'?" He snapped. He stomped forward. "Why am I intimidated by you? Because your quirk's got a little extra oomph? Forget the fucking sports festival. While you were twiddling your thumbs waiting to get accepted, you know where I was? I was fighting real fucking villains. So you're going to walk in after we've seen the real deal," he hit his hand into his palm. "The real stuff heroes have to do, and pretend I should respect you? Like I should act like you're on my level because you can do a combat exercise? You know what you're going to do if you stare evil in the face? I know what I did!" He smirked, curling his fingers as he lifted his hand. "I kicked its ass."

He was pumping himself up again and Bakugo cracked his knuckles, satisfying himself. With that Bakugo waved his hand dismissively, turning around. She 'd have some comeback in mind. That much he was sure of.

But that didn't mean he had to listen to it. She wasn't worth his time, beyond mere curiosity of her attitude; and while he could sort of appreciate someone that dished it out as well as he did, he wasn't going to make it a habit to get involved with her.

That didn't mean he'd pretend her words hadn't bothered them; they did, but wouldn't they bother anyone? De Rios was a bitch. And not in a fun way either. A stone cold ice queen. Not a bad looking one, he guessed, but Bakugo had never let a girl being hot make him tolerate her more.

kitpu · Feb 18, 2019

It was a question that no one should ever explicitly pose to Izuku Midoriya. A can of worms that should never be pried open. Within the few nanoseconds following that question, he'd already stood up and flattened his notebook triumphantly over the table. He began to thumb fervently through the pages that were falling apart in endless locations—crinkled, burnt, torn, loosening from the binding within—trying to find something that might be of interest to her. Eventually, one out of his several hundreds of drawings caught his eye, one that was towards the back and hence much more recent. Having gone ahead a few too many pages, he pinched a small group of the most recently used papers and inspected them until he discovered what he was looking for: a couple describing what information he'd gathered about Mika's quirk over the earlier part of the week, featuring a small doodle of her off to the side of the leftmost one.

"This is where I keep tabs on all the quirks I happen to come across! I write down theories if I'm not too sure, and then cross them out later if it turns out that they're not true—mainly when it comes to people who are up-in-arms about revealing details about their abilities and pro heroes that don't divulge that information to the public for privacy." He pointed to a bulleted list on the right page, trailing his finger down the chicken scratch Japanese characters. "De Rios was super nice about the whole thing and told me everything I needed to know, so any theories I have on here are just things I forgot to ask. Most of this is just talking about how her quirk works."

One scarred finger was run along the sketch he made of the Hispanic girl and down to where he'd drawn water under her feet, adorned with arrows. "See, here I talked about how, once activated, her quirk makes water drift in towards her if she doesn't move it right away. It'll attach to her body unless she deactivates her quirk or moves it." He skipped back to the beginning of the notebook again, scanning yet another list; this time, it was full of only kanji planted next to numbers. "There's all kinds of heroes and students here. I always try to mark down what page I write their information on so I can refer back to it later. I'd like to know about your quirk, too!"
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And then, against all odds, what Mika did was laugh. At first it was nothing more than a small, easily overlooked chuckle, but soon enough, it had descended into full, hearty cackling. It took all she had within her to stop enough to talk again, and she managed well enough, even if it was done through teary eyes and only after a barrage of wheezed Spanish curses and exclamations.

"Oh my God, dude. You're a riot," came the throaty drawl as Mika swiped a manicured nail beneath her waterline to collect what tears had begun to shed—luckily nothing her sturdy eyeliner couldn't stand up to. "Guess I've made some shitty cartoon rival outta you without so much as trying, huh? Good deal." The waterbender turned to face him yet again, thumbs hanging from her pockets, stance loose yet again and devoid of any of its prior uneasy rigidity. She watched him steadily this time, not so much angry as she was amused. Thrilling, she found it, when those striking red eyes were trained on her own and full of anger. So easy to rile him up, and yet she had the distinct impression that she'd done so in a way that he hadn't encountered before. The shock that lay beneath his harsh expression was not beyond her detection.

"For the record, America's no peaceful little dream society, y'know," she continued, the snide grin she wore not once vanishing. "When you have heroes all over the place, you also have villains. How else do you think I got such damning recommendations? My quirk could wash the piece of shit thugs right out of the street. Bitch, I've seen villains. I got early internships from guys in the big league even though I wasn't a high school student." Biting her lip with a sharp canine, the edges of her mouth inching higher, a snort left her. "You might be God's gift to Japan for all I know. Don't matter. I ain't denying shit. But just because you dismiss the facts of how I got here, what traits about me made me skip that list that hardly anyone gets off of even once room is made, that doesn't mean they're gone. You underestimate me, and it's gonna be your ass in the mud for not expecting it. You tell me to watch myself, and believe me I am, but I could tell you the exact same thing."

Marzopup · Feb 19, 2019

She really had no idea what she was getting herself into with that question. Almost as soon as she'd said it her classmate was talking a mile a minute. Elizabeth did find it kind of interesting, especially when he was talking about Mika's quirk--she hadn't really gotten a chance to talk to her yet. What she'd heard about her was kind of intimidating. A student so good she bypassed a lot of other students on the waitlist to get into hero course. She listened with interest as he talked about what he usually wrote down, head tilting to the side, nodding when he explained how her quirk worked. Then he asked the question that made her blood turn momentarily to ask. Or at least the implied question; I'd like to know about her quirk, too!

Her nerves were starting to cause that slight itching from her necklace, which indicated that she was right on the edge of adrenaline. She took a deep breath, keeping herself calm. What was she going to tell him? A straight out 'not telling' was just suspicious and honestly, a little rude. But she wasn't going to give him details either. She didn't want anyone to know the full extent of her quirk. That just led to...problems, in the past. She'd wanted to put that off for as long as possible. But he was waiting expectantly, so she had to say...something. Details. She needed to give him just enough. Elizabeth rubbed the back of her neck, glancing down at the table.

"My quirk...is called Wolf's Blood," she said. "You know Asui's quirk, right? Frog? It's kind of like that. Except wolf." She shrugged. "I can do pretty much anything a wolf can do."

There. That was satisfactory answer, right? If not for the unfortunate monster thing, it was a pretty useful quirk. Animal quirks in general were pretty versatile--speed, stamina, strength, heightened senses, even some intuitiveness when communicating with other canines. It was why everyone her father knew had been practically begging her to try going into the military. Her quirk was too valuable not to try and harness. What better quirk for a soldier than one that made you a killing machine that instinctively followed a leader and worked in groups?

"Its only real drawbacks are that I have all the disadvantages too," she added. "I'm red-green colorblind, and wolves' tastebuds aren't very good." She lifted a piece of her peanut butter roll up. "It makes finding food that tastes like anything pretty difficult."

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She laughed. The motherfucker had the audacity to laugh. Part of Bakugo wanted to go straight for the bitch's throat and show her what happened when you laughed at Katsuki Bakugo. Something else was holding him back. There was a sort of morbid curiosity he had when she talked about America--any All Might fan worth his salt knew at least a little about Hero America, especially during the time All Might had spent there, but Bakugo was far more focused on the country he was trying to become number one in. Bakugo couldn't imagine what kind of place it had to be if it was letting kids in middle school go out and do hero work, even as just an internship.

Then she bit her lip, and heat flooded to Bakugo's cheeks, which he convinced himself was from anger. She said she wasn't denying shit about him. In spite of himself, Bakugo felt a little bit of...respect, for that. She wasn't denying he was as much of a badass as he clearly was. She was committing to being able to surpass him. That much he could appreciate. That made beating her a lot more fun. But he couldn't beat her ass now in the middle of the sidewalk, could he? He'd gotten into enough trouble since school started as it was, between getting chewed out by Aizawa after trying to blow Deku up and being tied down during the Sports Festival.

So instead of responding, Bakugo ran a hand through his hair, the stiffened, straw like blonde sticking back up as soon as he'd pressed it down. Slowly he walked up to her, able to look down at her. His lip curled up into a sneer of his own, his eyes narrowing with a sharp crease etched vertically between them. He let the moment linger for a second.

"Tch," he snorted at last. His hands went back to his pockets. "We'll see then."

With that, Bakugo turned and finally walked away. Tie whipping with the sharpness of his turn and a hand flicking upward in acknowledgement of him taking leave of her, Bakugo's face turned back to a scowl immediately upon turning away. Water quirk. Bad matchup for his quirk.

He'd have to do some strategizing before he had to spar with her...

kitpu · Feb 20, 2019

Izuku couldn't help but notice her apprehension when he brought up the question, how her hand had lifted to rub at the back of her neck in a way that he often mimicked when anxiety got the better of him. Already his mouth had parted in preparation to apologize, to assure her he didn't mean to pry, but it snapped shut the second she began to explain. The slight sting of guilt that he'd experienced prior upon seeing her face pale and her chest expand with the onslaught of a heaving breath hadn't quite left him yet, but he swallowed it with a silent reminder to himself that he needed to be more confident that people often weren't thinking the worst, or badly of him, at all.

Even so, as she continued, he couldn't help his gaze from widening, his cheeks from adopting the rosiness of excitement beneath the spattering of his freckles. "Sharp, that's amazing! Mutation quirks are uncommon, and I definitely haven't met anyone with Canis qualities yet!" No wonder he was often bullied for being 'nerdy'. "I think that's super cool. I can tell you don't really like talking about it, so I won't pry, but I just wanted you to know that. I mean, you had to have a lot of skill to get off the waiting list, right? That's practically unheard of once school starts."

Despite his previous, primary motivation, Izuku closed the notebook, smoothing his palms over the cover that refused to lay flat. It was a finalizing action, one that signified that there were other things more important here than his research and his obsession with knowing all he could about the different quirks he came across. Yes, he planned to keep the ritual up when it came to others, but with Elizabeth, for now, he was much more interested in getting to know her. It was an epiphany that only came about following her hesitance, but he was happy to have it dawn upon him.

"I can sit with you tomorrow too, if you'd like!" he suggested, deciding to leave it at that so she could do with it what she wanted. He attempted to tell himself that he was fine with either outcome, but in his desire to continue speaking with her, it was obvious which he preferred. The faces of Uraraka and Iida, his first two friends, came to mind along with a churn of shame in his gut at the thought that he'd come to sit with her without warning them. "Oh, and...if it's okay, you can come and sit with me. Uraraka and Iida have been my closest friends all semester, so I'd love for you to meet them!"
__________________________________________________________________________________________

Another class sparring session. It had been sprung on them out of the blue, a full week after the last, but it felt too soon nonetheless. She followed the herd of kids, mind aloft as instinct moved her feet. While the previous matches had involved teams, this class was specifically a one-on-one sort of deal. It didn't appeal to her. As confident as she often was in her abilities, her quirk was among those that required employment of a watchful eye and calculated moves even in the midst of a panic. It was dangerous, the very reason she couldn't utilize large waves or the uppermost level of her capability in most circumstances. Frustrating, to say the least. If it were villains she needed to dirty her hands with, she had no problems in doing so; when it involved potential friends that could be steered away from her were she to slip up, though, she found her heart lurching with unrest.

She listened carefully to the instructions Aizawa provided: between the two students involved, it was a free for all, only being deemed a loss if one of them fell out of the arena. So holding back wasn't an option, huh? If everyone were to give it their best shot, she would be out of the ring and on her back within seconds, regardless of who she was up against. As fate would have it, she was called on. Mika failed to hear the other name Aizawa had announced, too focused on quelling her nerves and pulling water from the grass around her. There was no time to do it during the fight.

The green field was soon wilting, robbed of every last drop of moisture at her hands, dry and crumpled and broken in hues of brown and yellow, befitting a prairie. Iida was quick to voice his concern, but Aizawa waved him off, noting that there were plenty of students capable of regrowing it instantly. Without remorse, now, Mika let the stolen water consume the likes of her forearms, the rippling surface at its opposite ends assuming the shape of the hands within. Gasps and sounds of awe were heard from the crowd, remarks that they thought she was only capable of moving water, not shaping it. Rather than let their words get to her ego, she was searching for her opponent.

Marzopup · Feb 20, 2019

She was used to playing her cards close to the vest about her quirk, and used to keeping her head down and trying not to draw any attention. She was not used to this whatsoever; this unabashed praise and understanding. She almost felt guilty, for not telling him all the details. If he would treat her differently, had he known, then that was bad. If he wouldn't, then she still felt bad. He was so excited and it felt wrong not to reward such wholesome exuberance. It was cute.

As if that wasn't enough, Midoriya then had to give her the offer of having him sit with her again. Of having her sit with him and his friends. So surprised was she by the unqualified kindness of her new classmate that Elizabeth felt her cheeks start to redden. "I'd be happy to!" She answered, surprising even herself by the enthusiasm of her answer. She raised her shoulders, swallowing slightly, locking Midoriya with the intense predator like stare she was so used to she didn't even realize she did it. What else was there to say? He'd invited her. She said yes. Elizabeth searched in her brain for another question to ask. His quirk? Though that seemed a little dicey. So hey, you break your bones! Wild!

Getting dangerously close to 'awkward pause' territory, she improvised. Elizabeth glanced down at her bento and shoved it toward Midoriya.

"Um, do you want some?" She blurted out, wincing internally after every word that felt more awkward than the last.

Smooth, Elizabeth.

"It's, um, peanut butter."

Because it isn't obvious already?

"And...banana...in a tortilla."

Stop talking stop talking stop talking--

"It looks like sushi!"

WHAT. ARE. YOU DOING. YOU DUMBASS.

Elizabeth shoved another piece into her mouth to shut herself up before she could sound anymore banal. Her tongue did what it always did when she ate peanut butter too fast in too large a quantity; it went to the roof of her mouth, clicking away, trying to swallowing every last bit. She grabbed the milk bottle and tried her luck at that instead, still watching Midoriya out of the corner of her eyes.

So much for being the cool and mysterious new kid...unless the mystery was how she could be so fucking awkward.

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It was a whole week before Bakugo got his change to fight de Rios after their little chat outside school. A whole week too late, as far as he was concerned. Was pretty frustrating when a hero course took that long to do combat again--instead they were forced to drill dumb rescue exercises, over and over. Boring shit like securing a perimeter and guiding civilians to safety. Bakugo tolerated it but he didn't have to like it. He wanted to get to the stuff that required some real skill. Preferably ass kicking. And he was very happy to be given his chance when Aizawa called on Bakugo to be de Rios's partner.

He was also pretty happy that this time it wasn't a group exercise. Groups were tiresome for Bakugo in even the best of circumstances, and especially now, when the fight was somewhat personal. She didn't infuriate him as much as Deku, but he had to give her credit, she was getting pretty damn close. His eyebrows raised as the grass of the field died, the water rising from the ground for her own use.

Huh. That's a fuck ton of fine tuned control.

It wasn't surprising. He knew she'd have some skills, maybe even some advanced skills. Bakugo knew one thing, getting wet? Bad for his quirk. Made it harder for the sweat to stick to his hands and get a spark going. He'd have to focus on staying dry. Which meant, if he wanted to win, his best bet was a speed match. If there was one thing Bakugo was pretty fucking confident in (there were more, obviously, but picking one) it'd be that he could outmaneuver her any day no matter what shit she tried.

Bakugo stepped into the ring, arms crossed, lip curled. "Let's get this over with," he growled. Bakugo rubbed his hands together, getting some friction going to create some heat to get the sweat started. When Aizawa announced the match, Bakugo shouted:

"TIME TO DIE! SLIP N' SLIDE YOUR WAY OUTTA THIS!"

He ran. His match against Deku at the beginning of the year not forgotten, he came at de Rios with a right hook--only to fake out at the last second, trying to dodge the anticipated counter by blasting into the air, trying to calculate the right angle to land behind her.

kitpu · Feb 21, 2019

Izuku laughed and the sound was that of soft wind chimes. Lifting his hands before his face, he shook his head with a smile. "That's okay!" he assured her. Though the concern didn't bubble all the way to the surface in a way where it could be detected, he was trying desperately to keep his brain from building associations between her behavior and that of a dog's; that would be rude, wouldn't it? And yet, he couldn't help the similarities that were being drawn now that he knew just what her quirk was. The affinity for peanut butter, the smacking that resembled what happened when dogs were given said peanut butter for their owner's amusement, that intense stare—all of it was almost comically evident to him, but he kept his musings to himself.

"Oh, hey," Izuku started, a thought dawning upon him. "There's no reason we really have to wait until tomorrow to have you meet them. If you wanted, I can bring you to them right now!"
---
Another battle simulation, another chance for Izuku to unabashedly scribble down notes and observations about his peers and their boundless talent. Eventually, he would forge strategies based off of what he saw, memorize them so he could surprise his opponent with knowledge of their habits and hopefully gain the upper hand. Notebook in tow, he followed the crowd of students, towards the front so he would not be reaped of the opportunity to see the first fight up close. To his horror, what Aizawa did was pit the two in the class who were each other's worst enemies against one another.

As much as Bakugou resented Izuku, the feeling was not mutual; when they fought, Izuku mostly protected himself and abstained from retaliation. With de Rios, the sentiment was much different. He could already see the latent fury rippling off her in waves as vicious as the whitecaps that made her water limbs retain their shape.

"I'm worried about this," he muttered to Elizabeth.
______________________________________________________________________________________

Of course. Of all the students she could be made to face off with, it had to be Bakugou. She graced his snarled declarations with a steely silence and a narrowing of her eyes. When the whistle went off, however, she found that no amount of bracing herself could prepare for Bakugou's alarming speed. Though he'd endeavored to blast his way behind her, she was able to escape, but only barely. It was reflex, really—letting the water migrate to her back, soak through her clothes, and adhere to her skin, all so she could make a quick flight out of the line of fire. Her ever obedient element spread itself thin as large wings, lifted itself on either side of her, and with a powerful descending motion, launched her into the air. She landed several feet away, safe, although not unscathed: Bakugou had managed to partially singe her chest, the hem of her tank top eaten away just beside its strap, the missing fragment replaced instead with a small patch of raw skin and a ring of ash to go along with it. He'd burnt her clothes in other locations, too, over the rise of her ribs, across her abdomen, and had damaged the skin along her collar along with it.

"You're fucking insane," she panted. One of her makeshift wings returned to her as she tossed her hand out for it to grab onto, the liquid growing longer, thinner, all until it was a lengthy, coiling item, busy with slush and shards of ice, attached solely to her palm. The grin she sent his way in that moment could only be described as wolfish. Hand drawing back, the bender muttered, "But you're in good company for that, I suppose."

And like a snake, it struck, searing and cold bites carved into what divisions of his flesh she could reach from where she was as ruthlessly as he'd attacked her. All things considered, she didn't hit him as hard as she might've liked, only enough to keep him at bay and put him in pain. Some sense of last-ditch morality seemed to cling to her. Sure, down his cheeks and shoulders and chest streamed blood—no doubt the lacerations stung significantly—but that didn't seem to slow him down too much, and she would be willing to guess that he was now infuriated regarding her decision to not aim to kill him. For he was charging her in moments, faster than before.

The most she could do to combat his speed was coil her water around his legs to slow his momentum, to soften the fall when he'd landed behind her, pushing his weight into her to do God knows what. She could get out of this, but it needed to be with as little damage taken as possible.

Marzopup · Feb 22, 2019

He was the first person to seek her out and befriend her. Even while she'd been in General Studies, she'd mostly kept her head low and didn't want to be noticed. But he noticed her, and he didn't even need to try and get through the walls she'd put up--he'd dug right under them and come up on the other side. Elizabeth liked to divide her thoughts into two categories: her normal human brain, and wolf brain. It was how she'd learned to cope with the sometimes disturbing thoughts wolf brain came up with, like thinking Principal Nezu sure looked tasty. Now it was telling Elizabeth that Izuku Midoriya was to be a member of her pack that she would defend with her life should she have to. And okay--Wolf Brain was being a little hyperbolic. But she definitely wanted to be his friend. So she followed Midoriya to go meet his friends at the table and continued to follow him after that.

She didn't mean to follow him everywhere. It just sort of happened. When there were classes outside she ended up next to him. She fell in step with him in the morning when she saw him walking into the school. Elizabeth wasn't really a talkative person, so it ended up being a lot of Izuku speaking to her and Elizabeth tilting her head in interest, with periodic assurances that she was interested in what he was saying. It wasn't a lie either. Today, for instance, Elizabeth had once again hung back with him when they went outside for a combat simulation. She hadn't been in class long enough to really understand the significance of Bakugo and de Rios being paired to fight one another. There was an obvious air of animosity laced with...something (honestly her mind refused to go any farther into what)...but why exactly she didn't know. She was equally unable to fathom why he was always sneering at Izuku, though his hatred for her new friend was far deeper than the snide looks he gave de Rios.

Who intimidated the fuck out of her, by the way. She carried an air of 'I will murder my enemies and then kill more of my enemies with their blood.' Her control over her quirk seemed flawless, effortless, something that Elizabeth was so jealous of it wasn't even funny.

"I'm worried about this," Izuku mumbled to her. And Elizabeth's brow furrowed as she continued to stare at the field.

"There's nothing to worry--"

BOOM! BOOM BOOM BOOM!

The reaction Elizabeth had was instantaneous. Those blasts were loud--too loud--her sensitive wolf ears felt like they were being attacked with a ball peen hammer with every use. A soft whine crawled its way out of her throat as she covered them, trying desperately to block out the pain it was causing. Ears still ringing, she opened one eye, only to see Bakugo and de Rios--

"Oh," Elizabeth gasped. That was...suggestive...to say the least.

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She made Todoroki's quirk look uncoordinated and clumsy by comparison. She'd moved as he'd launched in the air to make it behind her, but improvisation was his bread and butter in a fight. As quickly as he'd moved his hand to aim for her back on the landing, he'd swung it back and managed to blast her in the chest and shoulders instead. Bakugo landed, turning to face her and assessing the damaged he'd caused. He'd ripped pieces of her clothes away, revealing red and raw skin. Usually he wouldn't stop, would press the advantage he got from getting in the first hit to not allow her time to recover. But his eyes lingered across her singed chest and torn clothing, admiring for a moment his handiwork. She panted at him, her voice and ensuing grin causing heat to flood to his cheeks, too distracted by the smug smile to notice her readying her whip.

He raised his hands for cover when he saw it coming, but it came too fast to avoid nicking him in the face. "DAMMIT!" He roared, jumping into the air again and using his hands to explode forward and over again. The whip had caused some deep buts on his face, rips in his own shirt, blood dropping onto the now dead grass. The pain was making his heart beat out of his chest, adrenaline pumping him up as he instinctively flipped over her again. He could feel his shoes getting soaked as the water went around his ankles, and Bakugo threw a hand out behind him, propelling him forward to intercept any attempt she was making at dragging him back.

He had to stop her from being able to control the water, and tackled her from behind. One hand grabbed her right wrist, pinning it behind her back; the other wrist was pinned on the grass. his entire body was pressed against her back as he straddled her. Triumphant, Bakugo growled, "you try and move and I'll blast you into the ground so fucking hard they'll be picking up the pieces on the other side of the globe."

He licked his lips, leaning in close to finish huskily in her ear, "whose ass is in the mud now, huh?"

kitpu · Feb 22, 2019

Izuku couldn't help but wince when he thought the initial attack was going to come in contact with de Rios—and it had—but it didn't seem to shake her much in the least, even with the patches of raw and bleeding skin that were visible even at this distance across her chest. The damage she'd gotten in on Bakugou was more severe by far, though, deep slices across the high rises of his cheekbones, more blood he'd seen marring the blond's complexion than he'd ever seen before. More than when the upperclassmen had gotten some hits on him in the schoolyard when they were kids. More than in the Sports Festival, more than any battle simulation. Izuku couldn't help himself. It was an action of lament, for a friend new and a friend old, for his dear childhood friend and the girl that had been so kind to him the entirety of the past two weeks, even when she remained so quiet otherwise. Liz was closest to him, and thus the hand that didn't have a vise grip on his notebook went to grasp the sleeve of her track jacket without so much as thinking about it.

"Kacchan hasn't fought someone like this before," Izuku murmured, absently. He knew Recovery Girl was but a short distance away, but his concerns mounted the predicament before him, and went far beyond. He knew how Bakugou was, how he refused to be bested. Although more composed by far, de Rios seemed to host the same mentality. "He always brings his all to any fight he's in, but...nobody ever retaliates like de Rios has. If this keeps up...man, I don't know." Izuku's pine green gaze flicked down, soft when pit against Liz' intense gold stare. "I fought him...once. But I couldn't do anything other than defend myself back then, so it didn't escalate. This, though..."

Redirecting his eyes forward, he tried to soothe his breathing. It was a manual sort of process, like slackening the line on a fishing rod, or pulling in an anchor to relieve the strain on the rope it was attached to. It had been a long time since something had rattled him so, but most things he couldn't calculate the outcome of tended to at the very least set him off-kilter. It wasn't so much the damage that could result from the fight that bothered him so much as what this rivalry could build up to while beyond the supervision of experienced teachers, or what may occur in a life-or-death situation where teamwork was the only way to survive. But he was getting ahead of himself, wasn't he?

Then, like a slap to the face, Bakugou's act of pinning Mika to the grass startled the boy to attention. Almond eyes stretched to their widest extent, his thin lips parted and cheeks burning pink. Glancing at Liz, she seemed to have a similar sort of perception of the fight currently. To put the icing on the cake, only now had he noticed how his hand was clasped over her arm. The pink grew to a crimson.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________

And like that, she was down.

The feeling of Bakugou's weight in its entirety covered each facet of her back, his palms hot against the flesh of her wrists. Her lungs buffered within her chest for a moment, her brain stalled, and it was only when she heard his gravelly voice rumbling in her ear that she was able to think clearly. Still, the close proximity made her face burn as bright as her wounds. But who wouldn't be embarrassed, right? This was far too close for her comfort, even if Bakugou weren't her foe. She grunted under the weight of his body. She couldn't stop thinking about how warm and heavy it was against her, and it made her sick.

Then, it occurred to her. He would only pin her like this for two reasons: either he was aiming to keep her from moving too quickly, where she posed the risk of using long-range attacks, or he didn't know that her quirk couldn't be used without free movement of her hands. And she was willing to bet the answer was the latter.

Whose ass was in the mud? He really did believe that he had won. Mika shifted a bit beneath him, putting her heft on the knee that was craned into the ground without Bakugou's body impeding its movement. He wouldn't be fooled like he had been today again, and she knew that, but at the very least she could wriggle her way out of this nightmare of a situation.

"Whose ass, huh?" she repeated, and like that, the water had regained its controlled form, slamming into Bakugou with enough force to not only get him off of her, but to hurl him a good couple of yards away. Mika wasted no time. She forced herself to her feet with the leg whose position she'd improved moments ago, charging the startled blond before he could gather his wits about him enough to retaliate. It was only fair, wasn't it? To humiliate him in the same way he'd humiliated her? So that's what she did. Bakugou on his back, she straddled him, her water balling around either fist as she forcibly took hold of his wrists, preventing retaliation with his quirk. Just as he'd done, she rolled the tip of her tongue over her lips, the metallic piercing embedded in the muscle making itself known as she grinned.

"I'd say it's yours."

Marzopup · Feb 22, 2019

Bakugo had barely gotten a scratch on him during the Sports Festival, so the fact that he immediately ended up bleeding all over the place was more than enough to cement de Rios as a fierce competitor--not that she'd needed to prove herself, but still. Elizabeth didn't know why Izuku was so worried. Aizawa was right there, able to stop anything before they went too far. No one would get hurt, or at least, not hurt more than Recovery Girl could handle. She could only half listen to Izuku's explanation of his nerves, too focused on her own pain, but she could feel the anxiety radiating off of him. Elizabeth had always been good at that--knowing what someone was feeling, even if she didn't know why. Or at least, when someone was being sincere. Like the way you could say mean things to a dog in a nice tone of voice, and they would think they were being praised. It had hurt her ability to sense sarcasm somewhat, but with Izuku? He was so earnest that the way he seemed always matched what he was trying to convey. It was another reason she felt more comfortable around him than most people.

She'd managed not to blush when he locked eyes with her. Her eyes flicked over to Izuku's hand on her arm after Bakugo had pinned de Rios and it was over, turning a shade darker and swallowing.

"I hope he doesn't let this go to his head," Elizabeth mumbled. She had hoped maybe de Rios would succeed in humbling Bakugo, at least a little. But then something...else happened.

"Seriously every time they switch positions I get increasingly uncomfortable," she whispered to Izuku.

---------------------------

Stupid, stupid, stupid. He couldn't believe he hadn't considered that she could use her quirk without moving. Icy Hot didn't need to! What had gotten into him?

Normally his reflexes were sharp enough to dodge her with ease, but he'd been so surprised that he reacted too slowly. He could hear gasps from the audience when she pinned him, Bakugo struggling back and forth like a wild animal. A panicky feeling started to swell in his chest, his mind going back to his mouth and noise being filled with sludged, his mouth muzzled as he struggled against ropes in front of a crowd.

He might have completely succumbed, suffocating under that weight, until de Rios spoke again and snapped him back to reality. Instead of those memories, he started focusing on the feeling of her thighs pressing against him, her hair would and red with the sun giving it an almost orange-ish glow. A growl ripped from his throat. He didn't have his quirk, but--

"AS IF I'LL LOSE!"

His legs came up, locking around her waist. He flipped them around and Bakugo was the one pinning her this time, not wasting time.

"Looks like I've got you on your back!" He said. He raised his first, wet and sparking, and brought it down.

kitpu · Feb 23, 2019

Face fully crimson, Izuku cleared his throat, shaking his head. "They're both too focused on winning to care what anyone else thinks," he murmured, glancing at Aizawa, who seemed utterly unconcerned with the situation at hand as compared to his students, who were all busy passing nervous glances to the grappling teenagers and conversing in hushed whispers among themselves. He drew in a weary breath, nostrils flaring, before remembering why he'd been so excited for this class period to begin with. Releasing Liz' arm at last, he cracked open the journal flush to his chest, flipping to the last page that he'd dogeared preemptively. Writing down what he'd noticed in the most objective manner possible helped him pry his emotions away from the situation.

"If Kacchan wins," Izuku started again, eyes still trained on the page he was scrawling messy characters across, "he'll definitely let it get to his head. I don't think he's ever had a battle partner like de Rios." He left his first three fingers wedged in the spine of the notebook as he shut it slightly and lowered it, looking back at Elizabeth. "Still, I don't think it'll be easy. Kacchan can't manage much blast power if his hands get wet. When the nitroglycerin builds up from his sweat, his quirk gets progressively more powerful. De Rios I think figured that out. Getting wet probably resets the buildup."

Despite Bakugou's brazen shouts and the ear-shattering popping of his quirk's attempt to ignite, Izuku didn't look away this time, smiling at her despite his distress' grip on his lungs. "I'd like to see how you fight, too."
____________________________________________________________________________

His incoming fist was scantily caught by that rippling, sloshing hand, the other coming to aid shortly thereafter in the struggle against Bakugou's immense arm strength. If it weren't for the extra brawn her quirk could gift her, he would have overcome her, for her upper body was far less trained than his own. She huffed and groaned beneath him, wishing that she had more liquid at her disposal. If she had more than the pitiful ground could provide her, the fight would've been over much sooner. Her artificial appendages shifted farther up her arms, still holding onto Bakugou's clenched hands, allowing her actual extremities further mobility. Without reserve, she snatched the straps of his tank top, pulling it away from the toned muscle of his chest.

"You think I'm just gonna roll over for you because you're a stubborn ass?" Mika barked, pushing back against him as hard as she was able. Heavier though he was, adrenaline managed. She forced him onto his back yet again. Sitting on the hard and pronounced bones of his hips, Mika forced an amount of the water into the ground on either side of him, made it seep into the dirt, the free portion of both streams snapping at light speed around Bakugou's wrists. It was a technique she'd honed to perfection: by increasing the speed of the currents to something that would put a river's rapids to shame, she could restrict whatever she so decided to grab onto, hard as any solid material. She could feel her stamina draining, sure, but since when did her body's complaints ever make her yield?

"I'm sick of this." Mika's digits were still clamped around the straps of the younger boy's shirt, knuckles pallid, nails digging hard enough into the soft flesh of her palms to make them shed blood. "I'm sick of you." Her straight nose crinkled while her full upper lip drew up to show off unusually sharp canines. "I'd rather die than let your bitch-ass get the best of me, hijoputa."

Marzopup · Feb 23, 2019

Elizabeth allowed herself a moment to be relieved that it wasn't her fighting Bakugo. As soon as he used his quirk, she would have been done for. Even now she was sure she'd be starting her fight in a bad spot, with her head aching and ears throbbing. Elizabeth exhaled through her nose when Izuku let go of her, scribbling down in the notebook he always carried. She knew he and Bakugo had a history, a very weird sort of history. There was the fact he called him 'Kacchan' for starters, and he was the only one to do so. But besides that, he also spoke about him with the sort of confidence only someone who knew him for a long, long time would. It was always tinged with a sort of respect, even fondness at times--giving way to fear, especially when Bakugo was the one speaking to him. Bakugo, in return, treating Izuku like dirt to be scraped off the bottom of his shoe. Elizabeth wished Izuku would return Bakugo's animosity in turn--he didn't deserve to be treated the way he was by Izuku--but it wasn't her place to tell her new friend what to do.

The tips of her ears started to burn when he smiled at her, and Elizabeth lifted her hand, rubbing her thumb and pointer finger together to combat the urge to press against the necklace safely hidden under the collar of her track jacket. She kept it hidden--too many questions would arise if people saw some fifteen year old wearing a sterling silver necklace anywhere outside of a ballroom. He wanted to see how she fought? She...didn't know if there was much to see. Her quirk wasn't very flashy in combat, at least the way she used it. Just a speed and strength boost but otherwise not that different than how any normal person would fight. It certainly didn't have the literal flashiness of Bakugo's quirk, or the boldness of de Rios's.

Deflecting, Elizabeth smiled back at him, Izuku a welcome distraction from witnessing the panting and groaning going on with the two fighters. "I fought during the Sports Festival. I'm a little offended you didn't pay that much attention," she joked. She glanced down to the notebook, tilting her head. "Come to think of it," she continued, "you must have written something about me in your book by now." She frowned again in thought. "...what did you write? I want to see."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What the fuck does that even mean you bitch?" Bakugo spat, struggling again in her bonds. She'd adjusted her positioning this time, making it impossible to pull the same move with his legs that he'd done before. He snorted like an angry bull, not giving up on trying to break free, but the currents held strong. Crimson eyes refusing to look away from her own, he could feel his heart beating out of his chest when he realized she was still grabbing onto his shirt. "I'm sick of you!" He added. He finally glanced down to his chest. He took in the state of her hands, the way she was gritting her teeth. Bakugo smirked. She wasn't the only one with tricks up her sleeve. Bakugo had fine tuned his quirk too.

"...Fuck, you've got a limit, don't you?" He said. "Everyone watching thinks you're so good, able to do this shit like it's nothing. But everyone has got a limit. Newsflash, Slip n' Slide: my quirk gets stronger the more tired I get. Can you say the same fucking thing?"

As he spoke, his hands started to sizzle, smoking as he burned off the excess moisture. He didn't often slow burn in a fight, it was useless, but he used to use it to intimidate Deku all the time. He was talking to try and distract her, and when Bakugo thought he was ready, his mouth stretched into a full out grin.

"Pro tip for you, next time? Pay more attention to the hands."

BOOOOOM!

She had restrained his hands with his palms flat on the ground, only covering his wrists, and Bakugo was pretty damn proud of himself for making sure to land like that on the fly just in case she pulled some shit like this. Bakugo was back at square one with his quirk buildup, so he had to really strain to get a big blast--his hands were going to be throbbing, but it was worth it, because he managed to blast right out of her restraints, the kickback rocketing him up and straight toward her for a pretty vicious headbutt. His head was going to hurt a lot more than his hands if it connected.

kitpu · Feb 26, 2019

Izuku paled at her request, flipping through the book to show her that its contents were destitute of information. "Nothing." He quickly went to explain himself, fearing her taking offense to that. "I-it's not that I don't want to have pages about you. I do. But you seemed nervous when I asked you about your quirk during lunch last week, so I didn't want to write about you without your consent first." Even hearing his own clarification aloud dumbfounded him. It was a first, that was for certain: Izuku had never bothered to ask anyone else for their permission to be featured in his journal. It had never occurred to him. With Elizabeth, however, he was much more conscious of his decisions, his actions, even his thoughts. He chalked it up to the caution one might take when around a new face—even if he knew he'd never behaved the same way with Uraraka or Iida.

"If you're fine with me taking notes, I'd be thrilled," Izuku declared. "I wish I could've seen you fight back during the Sports Festival, but I don't think I had been in the bleachers, whenever you had gone. I would've remembered! I was either with Iida and Uraraka or getting patched up, depending on the timing." He rocked onto his heels and then back onto his toes, sheepishly glancing at the ongoing fight once again. Still, they were fiercely engrossed in their brawl, huffing and hurling feverish exchanges between one another with all the grace of rabid dogs. He couldn't help but wince as Bakugou forced his quirk to operate in spite of the lack of sweat coating his palms. But he wouldn't overdo it too much, would he?

"I'm surprised that Aizawa-sensei hasn't stopped them yet." Izuku's offhanded remark was not meant for the purpose of conversation, exclusively to serve the purpose of filling the noisy static that numbed his ears and made it a feat to so much as think. In reality, he wasn't all that taken aback by the development; Aizawa looked just as engrossed in the progress made as the rest of the class, and it would be just like him to let the entire period be consumed if it meant gauging the superior fighter of the two. "I'm just glad the rest of the fights won't be like this."
_______________________________________________________________________________________________

She forced him back with the balls of her palms just in the nick of time, but not quickly enough to keep him from hitting her nose. While he hadn't managed to land the attack with the full brunt of his weight, it was certainly enough to make blood drain from her nose, careening over the curvature of her pursed lips and down her chin. She hurt in so many places, could feel the premature ache of bruises and swelling pounding from somewhere beneath the surface of her skin; what made her the most infuriated was not her pain. It wasn't her injuries. It wasn't the cosmetic damage. No, she was livid that he thought she was at the end of her rope. That he had already succeeded her.

"Noted," she hissed. The cuffs launched back at Bakugou in hopes of binding him yet again. Rather than stopping with his wrists, she did just as he had told her, and the fluid consumed his hands, too. This time, his ankles weren't spared, either. If only to spite him, she made certain the speed of the rapids was enough to sting as they spiraled. No mercy was given as she forced the shackles back into their nest of dirt, as Bakugou was forced onto his back once more. She stalked his way again from where he had thrown her back, slamming the heel of her boot over his chest.

"Do you think I'm a fucking idiot?" Mika's words were uttered in a sneer, now, the tremblings of rage all but banished from her person. Fury was a mighty weapon, and it made who she was in that very moment someone that would be a stranger to the girl she was even a minute ago. She swiped the knuckle of her thumb beneath her nose, not wincing at the pain it caused her to collect the blood that was still flowing. Her skull felt tight with an impending migraine. "I can see your arms. I can see the way your muscles are twitching under your skin. What you mean by 'getting stronger' as you fight is the nitroglycerin buildup, right? Sorry to say, but I crushed that trap card of yours a damn long time ago, and I'm doing it again now. All that's left is your physical fatigue when I have you like I have you."

Mika drew even closer, this time forcing one side of his face to the dirt as her sole pushed into his opposite cheek. Hard. "You got cocky. Izuku tensed when you made that explosion because he knew the damage that being a dumb fuck could've done to you. You're no different than me, Bakugou. Than any of us. Your quirk has its goddamn limits too, and if you push it any further in this state, you're gonna blow your fucking arms off, ain'tcha?"

Marzopup · Feb 27, 2019

Another tilt of her head accompanied Izuku's explanation, smiling sheepishly when Izuku had mentioned that she seemed nervous. She was normally so good at hiding her emotions. Izuku was either particularly perceptive, or something about him made it harder for Elizabeth to do so. Either way, it felt uncomfortable for him to read her so well. She tried her best to hide it this time. "Oh. Well, of course you should take notes on me. If you do everyone else." Elizabeth shrugged, smoothing a lock of hair behind her ear, trying to ignore the ever intensifying noises of the battle. "It isn't as if I don't do the same for you. Although," she tapped her head. "I keep it up here. Like most people."

She wasn't exactly lying, but she was exaggerating somewhat. She didn't spend every waking moment of the day thinking about him, nor did Elizabeth really have any specific tidbits she'd committed to memory. Not of his quirk or his fighting style at least. But she'd thought plenty about him. Of the way he mumbled to himself when he was deep in thought or how during class he was always hunched over his notebook gripping at his hair in deep concentration. Sometimes she just...noticed those things, about him. She chalked it up to him being her closest friend in the class so far. Iida and Uraraka were very nice but she was just comfortable with Izuku. He'd approached her first. That meant a lot...

Which made Elizabeth not that thrilled about the idea of having to punch him in the face, or to allow anyone else to punch him in the face, for that matter. But they were in hero course. Such was life.

"Well, I know mine won't be," Elizabeth answered. She looked at her hands. "My quirk isn't really the...flashy type."

In fact--used the way she used it, or at least tried to--it was hard to tell exactly what it was. You couldn't really even tell she had a quirk unless you noticed that she was hitting a lot harder and a lot faster than a normal human her age and height should. And even then, Elizabeth worked out. She would have been a perfectly capable fighter even without her quirk, probably. Her father taught her pretty well when he was home--

"DAMMIT!"

Somehow, the ensuing shout from Bakugo was louder and more awful to her than all the explosions. Elizabeth winced, unable to hide a whimper as she glanced back at the field. He was being pulled onto a stretcher by the medical bots, and struggling every step of the way, Aizawa sighing and shaking his head.

"...well crap, she actually won," Elizabeth said, "although honestly she doesn't look much better than him."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

His smug smile at seeing her nose bleed was erased as quickly as her quirk soon after Bakugo started struggling. Who did she think she was? Giving him big lectures on his quirk like some fucking expert? He'd show her. He didn't care how weak he felt, or even that his arms had a slight tremor to them now as he lay back, immobile in the grass. But then the liquid dissipated from his hands, and Bakugo lifted them immediately for a blast. He wasn't even going to question what was happening. He just wanted to win. And win he would.

Although he had to admit, he could give her a little bit of begrudging respect for that fight. Like Kirishima withstanding his explosions to get them through the cavalry battle, or Uraraka putting up a decent fight during the Sports Festival. Bakugo didn't waste time playing nice, but when someone earned his respect, he wasn't going to fight it. He might even stop calling her Slip n' Slide.

He made a triangle with his hands, going in for a stun grenade.

Except his hands just...didn't work.

"Huh? FUCK! What the hell is wrong? WORK!"

It wasn't because of a lack of sweat. He wasn't even getting his hands to spark. Bakugo kept trying, kept failing. Aizawa spoke up from behind them:

"That's because I turned both your quirks off."

He turned his head, Aizawa watching them with a bored expression, eyes glowing and hair raised like he stuck a finger in an electrical socket. "You were completely immobilized by her quirk. The fight was over."

"Like hell the fight was over! I can--I can still fucking--"

He tried to sit up, but his quirk not working almost seemed to sap the energy from him--or maybe his brain finally registered how truly exhausted he was, because he fell back against the dirt. He heard a buzzing, mechanical noise, and medical robots were picking him up to load him onto a stretcher.

"De Rios, you need medical attention as well," Aizawa stated dryly. "You should go with him. Good job--but don't get too complacent. You overlooked something really obvious when you didn't go for his hands."

"Don't let her anywhere fucking near me!" Bakugo shouted. "I--let me go--DAMMIT!"

He struggled back and forth, to absolutely no avail. Even if Aizawa blinked, his hands were too weak and he was too weak. He was dropped onto the stretcher, and the moment his back thumped against the canvas surface, his eyes closed, still struggling weakly until he finally lost consciousness. His last thought as he was pulled away, the only thing on his mind, was:

I am going to fucking MURDER that bitch when I wake up...

kitpu · Mar 3, 2019

Izuku made a face, thick eyebrows craning inwards and up. Was that really what she thought? "Whether or not the quirk is flashy doesn't make it any less fantastic, Sharp. Maybe hero agencies are...picky and biased, but a quirk like that could save so many people! I mean, look at Kirishima. You wouldn't say the same thing about his quirk that you do yours, right? You have to give yourself more credit, or else it'll hold you back." He looked down at his hand, flexing his fingers, feeling the ache of his now-crooked joints. "I still feel bad about how behind everyone else I am. But insecurities like that...if you let them get too strong, it'll weigh you down, keep you from improving." He clenched his fist just inches from the firm, lean muscle of his chest. "It's a lesson we'll both have to work on, but I know we can do it!"

Izuku's little wholesome and inspirational spiel was interrupted by a yell, but one that failed to grate upon the ears. It was a call, really, pitched their way by none other than Aizawa. Drab though he sounded, Izuku had accumulated enough time around him to be startled into stiffness by exposure to his teacher's contradictory nature. He was indifferent, but strict—some might even say cruel.

"Sharp. Midoriya. How many times do I have to call you? Get to the arena. You're up." The man's onyx stare rose to the huddled teenagers from his clipboard, a hand ducking into the vastness of one of his loose pockets. Upon storing the pile of reports beneath the bend of his other arm, Shouta scratched at his scruff with the fingers that were not out of sight. "If you have enough nerve to talk among yourselves when I'm working on your grades and your peers are silent, I imagine you'll have enough nerve to fight effectively." He knew just as much as Izuku did that that statement was false. Still, his expression reflected not a hint of that doubt, just as bland as his tone.

Dismay triumphed over Izuku's staled optimism. There was no way he could fight someone whose quirk he hadn't observed, not when he knew Recovery Girl was now unwilling to fix whatever damage he brought upon himself. The most he could do was break a couple of fingers, nothing that would not heal properly without the nurse's aid. He hadn't learned to hone One For All into something usable. Something that was his own. It was a beast he hadn't even begun to learn how to tame. But he knew well that going into a fight with anything less than his guns ablaze would lead to his downfall. The progress of others would not stop for his to catch up.

"Well," Izuku said. His voice wavered. "Let's do our best, okay?"
_________________________________________________________________________________
The last thing she was able to comprehend before blacking out was Aizawa's invaluable, scant praise. It may have been as deep and unenthusiastic as the rest of what was said, but it was enough to make her heart soar. And make the rate of her blood loss quicken. Before she could voice her gratitude, she was falling face first onto the dry and broken grass, water spreading around her as it was left to its own antics once again. She could sometimes hear the oscillating sirens of the medical robots as her vision failed her, although her ears felt as though they were stuffed with cotton.
---
When she awoke, it was in a place she couldn't immediately recognize. Familiar, perhaps, but only because she began to see that the rippling curtains around her were not so much curtains as they were medical dividers. All hospital rooms were basically the same, weren't they? The window was open, and she could distantly hear the rush of cars on the road beyond the school, brought to her with every gust of a breeze upon her face and bare chest. Noticing that she was, indeed, lacking a shirt, was not anything worthy of note to her; in fact, what concerned her more was that the garment beneath would clearly need to be replaced, cute though it was, considering Bakugou's unkind blasts had near eaten one of its straps through halfway. She didn't want to keep her eyes open for long, even to lament for her clothing. The soft gold of the late afternoon was enough to aggravate her migraine.

"I don't know what it is with your class and letting your quirks get you in my office," a croaky voice commented as Mika shifted to face the its way. The irritation the woman felt was palpable even without seeing the face her voice belonged to. Mika merely hummed in response, mostly because she hadn't the faintest idea of what she could say, but also because she was barely managing to prevent sleep from claiming her again. She had an intimate relationship with the aftermath of using her powers too much. The ache in her joints, the feeling of ants beneath her skin, and the throbbing around her eyes that made it feel like exhaustion had taken a hammer and chisel to carve away at the flesh there were all too reminiscent of when she had overdone it before. She said something else, but Mika didn't hear it nor did she care to, even when another voice had come to mingle with that of the nurse.

It persisted like that for a while. She'd fall in and out of consciousness as her body forced her to recover; it was an exchange, really, for how she had pushed it to its limits without giving two damns about doing so. Of all the potential people to see when she finally was able to keep her eyes open, who she saw had to be by far the worst.

Marzopup · Mar 4, 2019

Elizabeth did one of her signature head tilts, lips pursing ever so slightly at Izuku's encouragement. It was sweet, true, but she couldn't help but notice that he was guilty of the very thing he was accusing Elizabeth of doing, even if he acknowledged it somewhat. To say he was behind? How could he say that when he came eight in the Sports Festival? When the majority of their classmates had done worse than him? The very fact he was here, right now, despite his quirk's limitations was proof enough that he was far from behind. She started to open her mouth, straightening her head to tell Izuku so, when Aizawa's voice finally reached them both.

It was rare, extremely so, for Elizabeth not to notice someone calling her with her hearing. She had been paying too much attention to Izuku to notice--a thought that made the tips of her ears redden slightly before shaking it off. She also was not used to being scolded by a teacher--teacher's pet was a pejorative she was all too familiar with, especially with her quirk--so at his tone she glanced down at the ground nodding before looking up again. She could feel the anxiety rolling off of Izuku in waves, which did nothing to help her own. Still, she kept her head up high.

"...I apologize, Aizawa-sensei," she said, her own bland tone matching his as she bowed slightly. She walked toward the arena, water squishing underneath her feet that, she realized, must have come from Mika de Rios. Elizabeth swallowed. How could she follow up such a display? She was the other American student, the one that came late just like her. Surely everyone would be comparing them. But she heard Izuku say 'let's do our best.'

Slowly, Elizabeth lifted her hand and clenched it into a fist in front of her chest, copying the movement he'd made. She looked up at him and gave a small smile.

"I always do my best," she stated. "I know you will."

She could do this. Elizabeth had trained herself, put herself in countless fights until it didn't so much as faze her anymore. All she had to do was stay calm. She could beat Izuku without making her quirk flare up.

That's all she had to do. Stay calm.

------------------------------------------------

When Bakugo finally came to, his eyes creaked open, as if they still had heavy lead weights attached to them. But open them he did, seeing that he was stuck in the nurse's office.

"Fuck, let me out of--oof!" He winced and fell backward again when he tried to sit up too suddenly. There was a 'tsk-tsk' sound, and Bakugo's head lolled to the side to see Recovery Girl shaking her head at him.

"After the shape you put Midoriya in during the first exercise, I've been wondering when I would get to see you," she said. "Stop moving so much. You have some pretty nasty lacerations."

"Fuck you," Bakugo spit out. "Just fix me so I can go back to class."

She sighed, walking up to his bedside. "There's no shame in losing, you know."

"Who says I lost? We both came in unconscious!"

"I was filled in."

"Fuck Aizawa," Bakugo grumbled, looking back up at the ceiling again. There was an exaggerated Mwwwwwah! and Bakugo 's brow furrowed in disgust, before he could feel the dull, all over body ache subsiding somewhat. But he also felt tired. A lot more tired.

"My quirk uses your own stamina to heal your wounds," she explained, "so you'll still need rest before you're ready to move again. I'll be back to check on you soon. And young man," she pointed a finger at him, "if I hear you causing trouble with de Rios, your teachers are going to hear about it!"

She walked away. Bakugo huffed, head moving to loll in the other direction--only to realize that she was in the cot right next to him.

The first thing he noticed was that she wasn't wearing a shirt. The fact that he noticed that didn't mean anything of course. Chest was big, obnoxiously big. Anyone would have had a hard time not looking at her tits when she was wearing nothing but a bra that looked to come apart at the slightest breeze from the window. The second thing he noticed was that she was still sleeping.

Ha. He woke up first.

Her breathing was even, though she looked pretty beaten up, and Bakugo had to admit he didn't expect her to look quite so...peaceful. She looked like she was waiting for a fucking prince to show up or something. The thought made Bakugo tch, lip curling. If she was waiting for a prince to wake her up it wasn't gonna be him. For some time he just watched the rise and fall of her breathing, since there was a lack of anything else to do, until she opened her eyes.

Bakugo huffed, looking up at the ceiling again, pointedly avoiding her. Maybe if he didn't look, she wouldn't say something. It seemed like every fucking thing that came out of the woman's mouth was an insult. Bakugo didn't have time for that shit.

kitpu · Mar 8, 2019

Izuku didn't know how he should approach this situation. In most fights, he would hang back with his knowledge of the opponent's habits and moves, waiting to see if they would follow the path of what he predicted. But Liz was a wild card. He didn't know if he was in any position to be scrutinizing her when even a second was enough to triumph or be overcome in a fight. The whistle blaring was enough to crop the long breath he was pulling into his lungs short. There was no time to even think about what he was to do. Though Izuku's mind and body typically worked as a team, there was no place for his analytics here. Gulping, tensing his muscles, he stared the girl down.

His mind raced as the two began to circle one another. She had advanced speed, advanced senses, and advanced strength. But how much was each amplified? Tsuyu also had a mutation quirk (at least that's what he assumed Sharp's was, too, since she'd never explicitly told him), but her capabilities were far greater than that of any standard amphibian. At the rabbit's pace in which his thoughts had to go during this brief downtime, he settled on two things to calm him down: one, that there was no way she could surpass Iida's speed; and two, that no quirk was indomitable no matter how little he knew about it.

Izuku recalled seeing at one point a documentary based on police canines. He remembered hearing how water could impede efforts to trace scents, could confuse the dogs as their trails were nullified and conjoined. He tried to make the brief darting of his eyes to the side as undetectable as possible. Then, with a final calming breath, he was off running towards her.

Izuku grit his teeth in preparation for the likely onslaught of pain that would wrack his hand afterwards as he drew back his middle finger behind his thumb, making an immediate and sudden turn and aiming his hand directly at the ground to his left and behind him. Try to focus on the egg not breaking, he reminded himself, watching as the digit lit up to an impossible brightness, veins alight with entrancing pinks and bright reds. When released, the huge amount of water that had been left on and in the ground following Mika's battle splashed all over him. His finger wasn't broken. Without giving even a word of forewarning, the boy whipped back to face Liz, aiming his next attack at the ground in front of her, undeniably more dry and that which would plume upwards with even the slightest coaxing. He was going to take out both her smell and sight in one go, but he'd have to be quick.

"SMASH!"
_________________________________________

Of course, Mika was a little too smart to see him redirect his eyes and believe that he hadn't been looking at her up until that point. Yet, all that filled her was curiosity. Her normal severity around him hadn't had the time to reestablish its footing in her waking moments without a steady stream of vexation and insults sent her way, and so rather than scowl, she rolled onto her back, yawning laxly and stretching out her body over the cot. She'd already made her point. So unless he decided to start something, which she was sure he would, neither would she.

"I'm surprised you're not taking the chance to curse me out," Mika said, sleep softening the syllables of her words as she sneered lopsidedly at the ceiling. Her speech was not hostile at all. Rather, it was playful, teasing, even lacking the undertone of downright-cruel-mockery and annoyance that had surged beneath it the first time they'd ever spoken to one another. "Actually surprised you didn't try and choke me out in my sleep, now that I'm thinking about it. Change your mind about hating me, or were you just too busy staring at me while I was resting?" Despite the banter, she turned her head to face him again, smile not fading. Her hair caressed her as gravity took hold, collecting over the eye closest to the cot as she did. "I would've done it if I were you. Least then you wouldn't have to deal with me anymore, right? Everyone knows you've dubbed me your worst enemy."

Her humor faded a bit as she saw his wounds. Battered as she was herself, she wasn't prone to viewing herself with the same level of concern she did others. Overconfidence and pride assured that she would not accept mistreatment from anyone, but when it came to looking after herself beyond that, she fell short. With his stamina, only a small number of the wounds given could be healed, deep as they had been. Lacerations covered his chest and musculature. His tan skin was garnished with vast bruises (in their final stages thanks to Recovery Girl's help). Mika had left so many opponents in worse shape than she'd left him, and couldn't decide why his healing, mediocre injuries made her feel off-put.

It was several long moments before she realized she was staring at her brutality and chose instead to close her eyes. Trying to change the topic, she asked, "Why were you staring at me, anyway?"

Marzopup · Mar 9, 2019

The whistle was what threw her off when the match started. She was closer to Aizawa than Izuku--close enough that the sharp blare of the whistle made her wince and grit her teeth. That brief moment of hesitation was all Izuku needed. Elizabeth didn't underestimate Izuku; he'd made it farther than her in the Sports Festival, why would she? But she was certain of two things. The first was that Izuku's quirk hurt his body. That meant that in a battle of endurance? She would certainly win. And if he didn't use his quirk? She could easily take him in hand to hand combat. However, the second was that he was also very good at coming up with ideas on the fly. He'd surely be thinking of ways to get around that limitation. And he knew the basics of her quirk, besides.

So if she were Izuku, what would she do to get around her own quirk? She thought about it as they circled, the ringing in her ears from the whistle starting to subside. He was smart. Maybe he thought to use her own senses against her. But how would he do that? Scream really loud? It didn't seem--

"SMASH!"

He splashed himself with water? Her nostrils flared, unable to get a hold onto Izuku's scent, the once distinct smell slipping away from her nose like soup through a fork. It wasn't much of a strategy. Why would she care if she could smell him? It was a small area, and he couldn't hide--

There was another smash, and the dust kicked up in her face. Elizabeth immediately started hacking, waving a hand to try and dispel the dirt, backing away in case he was trying to go for a quick hit with the dirt as a cover. Her eyes...they hurt...she could feel her heart rate start to pick up, and she gritted her teeth. She couldn't let herself get worked up yet. She just had to keep her head. The dirt had hit her face pretty hard, so hard that it had actually stung her cheeks a little. She couldn't get it out of her eyes, not without a little work anyway. Until then she'd have to do without it.

She just had to relax.

Elizabeth paused in her frantic eye rubbing, taking a deep breath. Squinting with reddened eyes, she curled her lip.

"...your breathing," she said. "You're in pain. It's already ragged. You can't hide that!"

All she had to do was get in close enough to grapple. She could manage that. What was Izuku going to do, just not breathe?

-------------------------------------------------------

She opened her mouth, and Bakugo couldn't help but be thrown off kilter by her attitude. Angry, he could deal with. Her usual bitchy self, that he was used to. De Rios talking to him with such an uncharacteristic lack of animosity wasn't just weird. It was...disconcerting. Bakugo didn't exactly need an excuse to yell at someone, but still. His brow furrowed, still refusing to look at her, and his upper lip curled. He couldn't help it, though; his eyes flitted over, just enough to catch the glimpse of her face, her hair falling across it like the water she controlled, the fangs...shit, she had fangs? Since when? Was there some secret vampire aspect to her quirk he wasn't aware of or some shit?

"First of all, look at the name of the school sometime," he said, "not a good look for a future pro to choke some bitch out while she's unconscious. Says more about you than it does me. Second...everyone needs to get their fucking head examined. I never dubbed you shit."

Which was true. Deku trumped de Rios, easily. No one could beat that kind of history, and that kind of humiliation like the kind he faced during their first hero class exercise. He was almost relieved that de Rios hadn't been around to see that. His jaw worked back and forth, trying to decide on what he would say next. He wasn't dumb. He'd noticed that she was staring--wait.

She was staring.

She was staring at him.

The fact that he was doing the same thing didn't really register. Bakugo's ego latched onto that like white on rice. He smirked--just a little--and sat up.

"And last thing," he finished. He glanced over at her as he stretched, reaching his arms above his head, the muscles of his arms and shoulders straining a little as he did so. Was just a little theory he wanted to test out. "...I was staring at you for the same reason you were staring at me." He smirked. "Wanted to appreciate my handiwork. You look like shit."

kitpu · Mar 10, 2019

At once, the familiar burn of adrenaline, of competition and the strive to win that were all too new to him this year came hurdling through every inch of his body. His breathing? Now that she brought it up, it made sense that the damage done from Aizawa's whistle would have dispersed enough for her hearing to be functional by now. No, he couldn't cover his breathing, but he could keep his own condition from deteriorating further. Izuku unzipped his jacket posthaste and tied it tightly around his mouth and nose just before the plume of dust could reach him. Dripping as it was from his earlier stunt (the water had even soaked through his tank top underneath), he figured it would function much the same as a wet cloth with smoke from a fire.

Off he went, running again. His finger hadn't broken yet, but it had certainly come close; he was acutely aware of it, throbbing and hot while balled against his palm, feeling as though it had a pulse from a miniature heart of its own. But since when did that stop him? He'd been in far worse condition. This was nothing. Besides, it was nigh time that he learned to control One For All. If he didn't, it wouldn't just spell trouble for him, but the rest of the world, too. All Might's time as the Symbol of Peace was dwindling. If anything, Izuku felt that maybe it was for the best that Recovery Girl took that crutch away from him. Relying on being fixed each time that he shattered his limbs had become far too much of a comfort to him. It kept him from making any progress on reeling the quirk's titan power in.

"I don't need to hide it!" Izuku shouted, muffled, drawing his index finger back this time. Clenching up his legs, crouching, he fixated again on his egg metaphor, wanting to use the same small amount of power he'd used the first time, maybe a little more. Not only was he going to kick up more dust, but this time he was directly aiming to push her back, too. She could only brace herself against so much wind power. Since this was the first time aiming an attack at her herself, he knew he'd need to watch when the dust momentarily parted from his smash to see how far she'd get pushed back before striking again. This was all about calculation. He only wanted to push his body as much as he needed to, and nothing more.

A thought occurred to Izuku just before he was ready to send off his attack: if she heard his voice, she would know where to expect that his next attack would come from. Wordlessly, this time, he slipped off his shoes, knowing being in his socks would make his footfalls softer. He ran off to the side, but not before he tossed the shoes in the opposing direction as a distraction. Then, he sent off another blast, stronger than the last, tearing hunks of dirt up as it ripped across the land.
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Yeah, so maybe it did say something about her. "Even so. You're not really one to talk, considering all you do is yell 'die', even during the most mundane tasks. One of these days it's gonna be misinterpreted, and you can bet your ass I'm gonna be laughing." There was a stall in her words before she let out a guffaw. "And hey, didn't seem all too far-fetched to me when you were threatening to blow me to pieces hard enough to leave a mess for people on the other side of the globe to clean up, right? You're not exactly a 'rational' sorta guy, Bakugou."

Well, he was wrong about the next comment. That wasn't why she was staring. 'Appreciation' was far from what she felt when she looked at the wounds she'd given him.

"Thanks, you sure know how to flatter a girl," she grumbled, blandly. He sat up, and she watched him, apparently taking the bait. Did it count if she was aware of what he was doing? He was fit, she'd give him that much; even while beat up, his skin seemed to pull perfectly over the curves and angles of his muscle, only a shade or two lighter than her own. It went without saying that for these kinds of results that he would've had to have been working at his physique and strength for at least a couple of years. His body was as close to being carved from granite as one could get. She knew it would bug him, how quick the up and down pan of her eyes was. It didn't take long for an art kid to commit an image to memory, even if she refused to admit that she had.

She got up, staggered, but caught the edge of her cot in an unkind grip as she made an effort to claw for the bag positioned on the chair beside it. Recovery Girl had luckily stepped out for something it seemed, but Mika needed to be quick. She wasn't even supposed to sit up, herself. "Look," she snorted, managing to take hold of the twisted strap of her messenger backpack and pull it to her. "If you were fishing for a compliment, you could've just said so. But I know, I know, pride n' all that bull. So, pro tip: if you want me to ogle you, maybe don't wear a shit-eating grin while you're trying to pull that off." Her makeup, all of it, was waterproof, so she had no qualms in taking out her reusable bottle, stealing the contents from within, and settling the liquid, chilling, over her sore eyes. "But I'll toss you a bone." It was said with a sigh, as if it were a chore. A strained, low groan left her as she relaxed her body over the cot again. "You're attractive. I won't lie. No fucking point, everyone knows it. But, y'know, you really gotta make up your mind about whether you're trying to kill me or get my attention."

Marzopup · Mar 12, 2019

Her lip curled when she heard the dull thud of shoes hitting the ground, head whipping toward it. She had hardly registered what Izuku had said; she was in the zone now, as far as she was concerned. In the heat of any sort of fight, Elizabeth wasn't the sort to throw out quips, and it got worse the longer it went on, the faster her heart beat and pumped her quirk's transmogrifying hormone through her body. She could feel her teeth starting to sharpen in her mouth, her posture hunching slightly. The sound of churning earth made her rethink what she was doing.

The shoes. They were a freaking trap.

Clever.

There was no time to dodge, so she planted her feet, the blast of wind hitting her and knocking her back as she bowed her head with her arms crossed in an ex protectively in front of her. She gritted her teeth, the impact causing her feet to create deep welts in the ground as she was pushed back. But she wasn't out of the boundary, not yet; definitely not as strong as the blasts he used against Todoroki if she could withstand it without the aid of a barrier. He must have been holding back to prevent breaking his bones. When the air had dissipated, Elizabeth blinked, head whipping toward Izuku. Her eyes were wide open. He'd made a mistake in not trying to knock her away in one blast of air. The wind had cleared out her eyes. Sure enough, he was wearing only his socks. Elizabeth started to move toward him. If there was one thing wolves were good at, it was relentless pursuit. She grabbed a piece of hard, churned up rock, and with a growl threw it as hard as she could.

It was true that her quirk was only good for close combat, which put her at a severe disadvantage when her opponent had a long range attack and didn't care that it hurt him to use it. But her brief time in military school had included classes on rifle training--she had good aim, and the upside of Izuku's powerful attacks was that they gave her plenty of ammo.

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If there was one quick way to annoy Bakugo and piss him off, it was the subject of his temper. It wasn't that he was insecure about his temper--far from it, in fact, which was why he was so annoyed. Who the fuck cared about his temper as long as he was getting the job done and, more importantly, directing the actual violence toward the ones that deserved it?

"I'm perfectly fucking rational. I didn't actually do it, did I?"

He watched carefully at the up and down motion of her eyes, satisfied with his little experiment as he lowered his arms again. Sure, it was short, but she did it. And he had a feeling if not for their animosity toward one another, she would have taken a little longer. He froze when she staggered, brow furrowing. What the fuck, get back into bed, he thought to himself. Bakugo bit his tongue to keep from saying it out loud. There was no way he'd make her think he cared or some shit. Especially not when she was being a smartass. His lip curled, trying to ignore her petty remarks. It was hard, extremely so, in fact; but did he really want to get a detention for picking a fight in the nurse's office on top of the rest of his so far shitty day? He watched her, groaning as she lay back down, resettling himself as well while his eyes never left her. Then a short huff left him.

So she admitted it, and Bakugo had no problem smirking a little. She could act as put upon as she wanted--didn't change the fact that she said it. Bakugo lay back down as well, keeping his head turned toward her.

"Well," he answered before he could stop himself, "how do you know it's not both?"

Wait. Did he just...

Seriously, what the fuck? Did she give him a concussion?

kitpu · Mar 25, 2019

"Damn it," Izuku blurted with the last full breath he took, buckling backwards from the weight of the earth that had hit him square in the chest. All of the air that he had within him clawed free of his lungs and his windpipe upon the rock's collision with his chest. Being only human, he had to halt, had to find his composure. He slouched on girthy legs as ragged, grating noises left him, like the dying caws of a bird fighting to live. Izuku couldn't quiet them if he wanted to; it was the drawback of having a human body—always tainted with an undertone of frailty no matter how much it was worked on and beaten into suitability. Furthermore, the wet jacket around his mouth may have protected him from the grunge in the air, but it made regaining his lung capacity a task unrivaled. He cursed his naivety. She was bound to retaliate at some point, and the dust clouding the air (now flooding back) was just as detrimental to him as it was to her. He hadn't even seen the rock she hurled at him until it had already made his knees weak and lungs clamber for the stronghold that any breath of air could give.

Izuku felt panic take over as it came to him that if he didn't beat her back, she'd be able to get into closer range; already he thought that he could hear movement in the fog, that he had seen her moving closer when the haze had cleared for the brief second following his attack. He wasn't in any place to bide his time trying to catch his breath. The problem had to be circumvented somehow, and if that meant risking a finger to try and actually throw her out of the ring, then so be it. Impulse control seemed to be something the boy wholly lacked when things turned for the worse, numbed to the drawbacks a lack of control over his abilities dealt.

He wanted to win. When all was said and done, he was no better than his more unruly peers that stopped at nothing to get their way. He was just as competitive, just as nearsighted.

His calloused thumb made quick work of leading the tip of his ring finger against his palm. With a ferocity that surprised even him, the whirlwind was cast outwards, ripping across and through the land already divvied by his previous manhandling.
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She couldn't help it. When he presented that question to her, her characteristic detachment and stoicism floundered. She lifted the water meant to soothe her migraine above her face. Her chocolate eyes were sent wide, her chest halted momentarily in its automatic rise and fall, and her full lips divided. For a while she stared at him. She looked between his eyes, his smirking mouth that had just uttered the words that had managed to leave her shell-shocked, and the attention that he seemed to have entirely centered on her. It was an odd feeling, having him so intently staring at her, and if she wasn't mistaken, without the malice he usually bore.

"I guess I don't," she said eventually with a clearing of her throat. She shifted to stare up at the ceiling again, feeling like ants were crawling under her skin and in her belly from the way those rubies of his captivated her. She wanted to hate him. If he were unpleasant to gaze upon, it would make it so much easier to swear off every bit of him just as she had the first time they'd met. The pitiable thing about being forced in his company was that it was near impossible to not see at least some of what appeal there was to him.

"If that's the case, though," she carried on, snorting, "You've done a whole lot of the 'trying to kill me' thing. Might want to divide your time more evenly. But, I digress. I'll give you credit where it's due, even if I might regret it pretty fucking quick: it certainly has gotten my attention." She stiffly rearranged herself on her cot, trying to get her back more comfortable on the barren mattress while knowing full well that he was still watching her. "Exactly how much of it do you want, though?" An air of humor interlaced itself with her tone. "You got pretty damn close to me during class n' all that, even if it was to grumble half-assed threats in my ear."

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