(Do read the author's note on this one)
IZUKU
The salt air of the shoreline was thick with the scent of rusted iron and sweat. Izuku Midoriya heaved a gasp that felt like it was tearing his lungs, his fingers digging into the grimy frame of a discarded refrigerator.
"Move it, Young Midoriya! Heart and soul!" All Might's booming voice echoed over the crashing waves.
Usually, this was the part of the story where the protagonist struggled to even lift a tire. But as Izuku gave a guttural yell and heaved, the refrigerator didn't just move....it flew. It skidded across the sand, landing several meters away with a heavy thud.
All Might blinked, his hollow eyes widening. He looked at the boy, who was significantly more built than he had been expecting. Izuku's base physique, forged by Riko's "Saitama-style" brutality over the years, had given him a foundation that most fourteen-year-olds lacked.
"Incredible," All Might muttered, stepping forward. "Your muscular density is far beyond what I anticipated. At this rate, your body might be ready for One For All months earlier than my original estimate."
Izuku collapsed onto the sand, his chest heaving, but a wide, shaky grin broke across his face. She was right, he thought, his mind flickering back to memory of Riko's training session especially where she did this weird pose and kept saying "another one", make him repeat sets, till he lost conscious.
Thank you, Riko-chan, Izuku breathed, looking at his calloused palms. If you hadn't forced me to start training years ago, I wouldn't be ready to catch the hand All Might is holding out to me. I'm going to make it. I'm going to stand beside you and Kacchan.
BAKUGO
A few miles away, in a secluded mountain pass used for heavy construction, the air was screaming.
BOOM!
Katsuki Bakugo didn't just create explosions; he orchestrated them. He was mid-air, using the recoil from his palms to propel himself in a dizzying corkscrew, blasting apart reinforced concrete pillars that he had paid for with his own allowance.
He landed in a crouch, sweat pouring down his face, his palms smoking and stinging with the familiar ache of overexertion. He looked at the destruction he'd wrought and felt a surge of manic satisfaction.
But his mind wasn't on the rubble. It was on Riko's "Sidekick" comment.
He wasn't actually angry, not in the way he was with Deku. It was a different heat. For years, he'd watched Riko walk around like the world was a boring book she'd already read. It pissed him off that someone with her power seemed so... disinterested.
But seeing her stand up in class and declare war? That had changed everything.
"Finally," he muttered, his lips curling into a sharp, genuine smirk. "You finally stopped acting like an extra."
He was energized. The boredom of being the "big fish" was gone. The Fuse-box was actually coming for his throat, and that meant he could finally go all out. He launched himself back into the air with a deafening roar, his explosions larger and more focused than ever.
RIKO POV
.
.
.
I give uuuuuuuuup.
Seriously. I know I made all those grand, dramatic promises about becoming a legend and outshining Bakugo, but wow, the actual effort involved? Totally overrated.
While Bakugo and Izuku are "natural-born grinders" who probably get a thrill out of their muscles screaming in agony, I am... not that. I'm a 20-year-old soul in a 15-year-old body that is currently fighting a deadline and cancer. Trying to manage high-intensity hero training, studying for U.A.'s notoriously difficult written exams (imp to note – Izuku and Sparky are the top scorers in my school, whereas I am at the bottom of the list. Soooo yeah, it's more difficult for me, if it was not clear), and drawing two weekly manga series? It was a one-way ticket to a mental breakdown.
But, being a "God of Manga" (new title 'Kira' got after the aot, basement reveal) has its perks…..namely, money.
I finally caved and had Dad hire a small team of assistants. We ran the interviews through a shell company, and Dad did the initial screening to make sure they weren't creeps. When the final three signed the NDAs and were brought to the "Studio" to meet the legendary Kira...
Chef's kiss. Absolutely beautiful.
The look on their faces when they realised the "faceless genius" behind the genocide and existential dread of Attack on Titan was a middle-school girl in sweatpants? Their entire worldview shattered. I almost felt bad. Almost. I mean, usually, eleven-year-olds (age when she started publishing) are drawing sparkles and friendship, not titans devouring humanity.
"It's okay, guys," I'd told them, patting a thirty-year-old man on the shoulder while he trembled. "The trauma gets easier to draw after the first 20 pages."
Of course, I felt like a total fraud since I was just feeding them "plagiarized" storyboards from my previous life, but to them? I was a God in child form. A dark, terrifying prodigy.
With the assistants handling the heavy lifting of the inking and backgrounds, I finally had a little breathing room to focus on the one thing Rex Splode was actually good at
Accuracy.
Rex wasn't just a maniac bomber; he was an professional maniac bomber. If I was going to turn objects into lethal projectiles, I needed to be able to hit a moving target from fifty yards away without looking like an amateur. I needed SKILLS
So,
I rented out a private archery range under a fake name and spent my afternoons there. No one to bother me. Just me, a bag of custom-made steel pellets, and a lot of targets.
Flick. I'd charge a pellet with just enough kinetic energy to keep it stable, then snap my wrist. BOOM. The target three lanes down would vanish in a cloud of splinters.
Flick. Flick. Flick.
It was satisfying to watch my aim improve, but I noticed something strange as the sun began to set. I'd been practising since morning, and I still hadn't felt a drop in my energy reserves. The original Rex had a limit; his stamina drained based on the size of his explosions. But me? I felt like a bottomless battery. Was this the "boost" ROB gave me? Heh. If so, I guess I finally got something good out of that shitty, mother-f-cough!
"Ugh, gross," I muttered, wiping my mouth with a tissue.
I didn't let it spiral me into a panic. I just took a breath, felt the dull ache in my ribs, and picked up another pellet. I had ten months to UA entrance. The bet wasn't gonna win itself, plus the bakugos face when he lose…he…he..h..cough..cough..cough
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
Author's joint (maybe read this one?)
sup....I think I will let you in on a secret....I might be a supernatural being or just dangerously sleep-deprived....cause I woke up this morning to find a 17-chapter Chainsaw Man fanfic (kinda like an oneshot) that I apparently wrote in a total blackout....now the writing is shit....I mean, when I wrote it, I must have been riding on a pure dopamine high because if you try to read it line-by-line, it's basically incoherent. But here's the thing....the core concept is actually incredible. The story follows a guy who makes a series of questionable choices and ends up dropped into the Chainsaw Man universe with zero meta-knowledge of the plot. He's essentially a 'Toji Fushiguro' variant.....he looks exactly like the Toji we know from JJK, but his soul and circumstances are different. It's like the 'same-same but different meme'
What makes it special is that it isn't some world-breaking power trip. The story is focused entirely on the developing relationship between Toji and the Angel Devil. It stays true to the CSM timeline, maybe saving Himeno along the way, but the heart of it is this weird, beautiful bond between two people, one who has memory problems (spoiler related to devil contract) and one who drains life out off anything he touches. Is it gay or yaoi?....uh...Maybe, I was not really conscious when I made it, so dunno... (Also, warning, don't expect smut. I don't do smut.)
So again, for the MHA fans, don't worry, I won't touch it because I already did touc-ahem, finished it. all that's left is to make it readable, also its a one-shot, so I will probably work on it when I feel bored writing this fic and don't worry, I will only began.... once we're done with the USJ arc, and hopefully upload the whole one shot thing in one go.....yes now, go on praise me, cause im genorous like that...
Also, sry if it was a bit too much to process, I'm still in the post-hangover from the dopamine-high.
peace out.