Chapter 12: The Stalker, The Slugger, and the Stat-Padding
(Himiko Toga POV)
I like the color red. It's warm, it's vibrant, and it tastes like a secret. But lately, red feels like it's screaming.
Being twelve is a disaster. My mom thinks I'm "maturing," which is just a fancy way of saying "you're staring at the neighbors' necks again, Himiko." I look at my parents and they're so... beige. They're like cardboard cutouts in a world that's supposed to be Technicolor.
But then there's the Chaos Crew.
I was currently perched on a tree branch outside the Aldera gym window, my knees tucked to my chest like a gargoyle in a school uniform. I saw a man in the vents—Aizawa. He looked like a grumpy caterpillar that had given up on becoming a butterfly. I ignored him. He was Boring-Dark. I was looking for the Sparkly-Dark.
I looked at the others. The Pink Girl (Mina) looked like she'd taste like a battery-powered strawberry. The Bird-Boy (Tokoyami) was a walking inkblot. And Aqua... well, Aqua was currently trying to use a pencil to 'divine' where the nearest snack machine was. She's a damp puddle of a person.
And then... there was Sunny.
My heart did a literal [BOING-BOING] against my ribs. It's a terrifying feeling. Like I want to drink his blood just to see if it tastes like sunshine and fizzy candy. Every time he moves, the world gets a fresh coat of gloss.
Inside the gym, Sunny's head suddenly spun around 360 degrees like an owl. His eyes did a literal [ZOOM-LENS] stretch, the pupils turning into camera shutters. He saw me. He didn't call the police. He just gave me a two-fingered wave and a wink.
A physical, yellow, five-pointed star flew out of his eye, smashed through the glass without breaking it, and thunked against my forehead.
I felt my face turn the color of a fire engine. Stupid heart. Stop thumping before you break a rib.
(Izuku Midoriya POV)
"And remember, students! Safety is our first, second, and twelfth priority!" Mr. Tanaka wailed, clutching a manual titled How Not To Spontaneously Combust Around Toons. "No jumping! No breaking the third dimension! No turning your classmates into accordions!"
I was writing so fast my notebook was literally catching fire.
Rule 87: If Sunny offers you a 'shortcut,' you will end up in a different art style.
Rule 88: Bakugo's ego has its own gravitational pull.
I looked at Sunny. He was leaning back in his chair—which was currently floating four feet off the ground—waving at the window. I followed his gaze and nearly swallowed my tongue.
"TOGA-CHAN?!" I hissed. She was crouching on a branch like a predatory cat! "Sunny! She's gonna fall! Aizawa is gonna see! We're gonna get expelled before we even graduate middle school!"
"Relax, Izu-chan," Sunny chuckled, his voice sounding like a smooth jazz saxophone. "She's just 'location scouting.' Besides, Teach is currently busy trying to find his soul in that marshmallow desk."
"Alright!" a voice boomed. Aizawa dropped from the vents, landing with the grace of a wet sack of flour. "Enough. We're doing the Quirk Apprehension Test. If you fail, I'm erasing your names from the school registry and my own memory."
"WAAAH! SENSEI IS A BULLY!" Aqua wailed, clinging to Sunny's leg. "My divine joints aren't meant for physical exertion! I'm a Goddess of Grace, not a gym rat!"
"You're a Goddess, Aqua," Sunny said, patting her head [SQUEAK-SQUEAK]. "Just treat the softball like a sacrifice to your own vanity."
The Softball Throw
Aizawa looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die. "First up. The throw. Don't break the sky."
Kaminari went first. He wound up, yelled "THUNDER-BOLT!", and accidentally grounded himself. The ball traveled ten feet and landed with a sad [PLOP]. "Whey..."
Mina did a triple-spin breakdance move, coating the ball in neon-pink acid. It sizzled through the air, melting a hole in the gym's scoreboard. 670 meters.
Then, Bakugo stepped up. He looked at me, then at Sunny, his palms popping like a string of firecrackers. "Watch and learn, Deku! I'll show you why a pebble can't breathe the same air as a King!"
He wound up, his muscles bulging. "DIE!"
[KABOOM!]
The explosion was so loud my ears did a little dance. The ball shot out like a railgun slug. Aizawa held up the device. 700.0 meters.
"Beat that, you Quirkless trash!" Bakugo spat, smoke curling from his hair.
I stepped up. My heart was a drum, but my hands were steady. For ten years, Sunny had made me train in the 'Gravity Room' (which was just our basement, but Sunny had painted '10x GRAVITY' on the wall, so the physics actually listened). I'd spent my childhood chasing a Road Runner that Sunny drew on the fence.
I gripped the ball. I didn't have a Quirk. I just had the bone-density of a boy who survived a toon-brother.
I threw. No sparkles. No fire. Just a whistle of pure, unadulterated velocity.
The ball soared. It didn't stop. It hit the back wall with a sound like a gunshot. [WHAM!]
Aizawa looked at the screen. He rubbed his eyes. He tapped the device against his palm. "This... this can't be right."
701.0 meters.
The gym went so quiet you could hear a fly sneeze.
"WHAT?!" Bakugo roared, his hair literally standing on end like a startled cat. "ONE METER?! HE BEAT ME BY A SINGLE METER?! YOU CHEATED! YOU USED A HIDDEN SPRING! YOU'RE WEARING MECHANICAL SHOES!"
"It... it must be a fluke, Kacchan!" I squeaked, hiding my calloused palms. "A gust of wind! A localized gravity pocket!"
Sunny walked up beside me, leaning against a wall that wasn't there. He leaned into my ear, his grin so wide his teeth were practically a piano.
"Nice 'fluke,' Izu-chan," he whispered. "Exactly one meter. Your precision-trolling is coming along nicely."
The Long Jump
Bakugo used his explosions to clear the sandpit, looking like a human mortar shell. 20 meters.
I stepped up, took a deep breath, and jumped. I didn't use fire. I just used my legs. I landed exactly one inch past his mark. 20.01 meters.
[CUE: SAD TROMBONE]
Bakugo's face started to twitch. A vein in his forehead was throbbing in time with my heartbeat.
The 50-Meter Dash
Bakugo: 4.13 seconds.
Me: 4.12 seconds.
Bakugo finally snapped. "I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL BLOW YOU INTO THE NEXT DIMENSION!" He lunged at me, palms glowing with a lethal light.
Before he could even get close, Sunny appeared. He didn't run; he just 'was' there. He was suddenly tucked into a giant, yellow, three-dimensional box with the word [CENSORED] written on the side in bold black letters.
Bakugo slammed into the box with a loud [CLANG!]. He slid down the side like a piece of wet ham, his face squashed against the 'N'.
"Ah-ah-ah, Kacchan," Sunny wagged a gloved finger, appearing on top of the box. "Spoilers! You can't attack the Protagonist during the 'Realization of Growth' montage. It's a pacing nightmare for the editors!"
Bakugo fell to the floor, smoke coming out of his ears. "I... I hate... everything..."
Sunny hopped down and pinned a gold medal to my chest. It wasn't a real medal; it was a chocolate coin wrapped in foil, but it felt like the heaviest thing in the world.
"See, Izu-chan?" Sunny chirped. "Who needs a Quirk when you've been training in the School of Hard Knocks and Heavy Anvils?"
I looked at my hands. For the first time, I wasn't the 'Deku' who couldn't do anything. I was the 'Deku' who could do everything... just one percent better than the guy who hated me.
And outside the window, Toga-chan was clapping her hands so fast they were a blur, her face glowing with a frantic, beautiful, blood-red joy.
"Best. School year. Ever," I whispered.