7

A few days had gone by since Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugo, and Shoto Todoroki had started their new work study at Endeavor’s agency.

The robber grunted as he dashed into a labyrinth of alleyways, and as he did, a huge volume of smoke billowed from his body, courtesy of his Quirk. The three would-be heroes—in hot pursuit—could no longer see their target, but they dove into the maze nonetheless.

“Kacchan! Todoroki! You two circle around, and we’ll hit him from three sides!” said Midoriya, covering his mouth with his arm.

“Don’t order me around!” snapped Bakugo.

“Got it,” said Todoroki.

Despite Bakugo’s explosive protest, he dashed down a side alley without a moment’s hesitation, while Todoroki used his ice to speed along the opposite path. Midoriya sensed that his partners had changed tactics, so he kept moving forward, relying on the density of the smoke to deduce the villain’s route. The three boys had already memorized the layout of this district, so they weren’t totally in the dark—or the smoke, as it were.

If this goes as planned, we’ll catch the villain right where the paths meet back up!

Midoriya picked up speed as he plunged through the smoke, but just as the villain came into view at the rendezvous point, a scorching whip-shaped plume of fire shot down from above and lassoed the man.

“Too slow. If you’re already wiped out, then take a break,” spat Endeavor, who emerged from up ahead just as the villain lost the will to fight back and the smoke cleared. Despite the win, there was no hint of mirth on the hero’s face.

Endeavor might have risen to the spot of number one hero only because of All Might’s impromptu retirement, but his skills were the genuine article. Within his set jurisdiction, he tackled all three fundamentals of heroism—rescue, evacuation, and battle—on his own, so it was hard to claim that the number one hero title had gone to the wrong guy.

“I ain’t wiped out!” screamed Bakugo in clear frustration.

But the boys had every right to be exhausted, after days upon days of long patrols and an early start that particular morning. And yet Endeavor showed no sign of slowing down, despite putting in even longer hours. It wasn’t a fair comparison to begin with—the current number one versus students with only their provisional licenses. Nevertheless, Bakugo wouldn’t make excuses for himself as he shot for the stars.

Endeavor has the home-turf advantage, of course, but we were right on that villain’s tail … Ah, I get it now. He lured the villain into the alley in hopes of preventing property damage, then swung ahead to make the capture … Pro heroes never fail to impress!

As Midoriya ran through his on-site analysis of Endeavor’s actions in his head, Todoroki hissed “Dammit!” under his breath. More than just pure frustration, the look in his eyes suggested a determination to observe his father’s every move for his own improvement.

During this winter work study, the trio had been tasked with beating Endeavor to the punch just once. Every villain so far had been brought down by the fiery hero, however, and it was all the boys could do to keep up with his pace.

After handing over the smoke villain to the Flaming Sidekickers, Endeavor’s phone rang.

“What is it? Mm-hm. Got it,” was his side of the brief conversation.

“Change of plans. Deku and Bakugo—you two take a breather. Shoto—you’re with me,” said Endeavor.

“Why just me?” asked Todoroki.

“Gotta do an interview. Should be over quick enough. This is part of the job too, y’know.”

“Fine.”

There was no fighting Endeavor’s orders, so Todoroki said “See you later” to the other two and went off with his father. Their relationship wasn’t good by any stretch of the imagination, but it seemed that some of the fire had died down during the course of this work study.

Before resuming patrol, one of the Flaming Sidekickers suggested that Midoriya and Bakugo get lunch somewhere.

“Where should we go to eat?” said Midoriya.

“Like I care! Find your own grub!” said Bakugo, who promptly marched off, leaving Midoriya all alone.

Actually, it’s hard to imagine sitting down for an actual meal with Kacchan.

The two boys had known each other since childhood, and for almost as long as Midoriya could remember, he’d been the persecuted, and Bakugo his persecutor. But that dynamic had slowly begun to change ever since they’d both gotten into U.A. High. They weren’t exactly hanging out together the way they had as children, but it felt as if they were on more equal footing. Not that being alone with Bakugo was exactly a walk in the park, even these days.

Maybe just a sandwich from a convenience store …

After buying lunch and a drink, Midoriya started looking for a place to sit down and eat. The city streets were decorated for New Year’s, although the boys had been too focused on patrolling to spare a second thought for the festive atmosphere. With that in mind, Midoriya hoped to find a quieter spot for his break.

Oh, how about by the shrine?

Midoriya scanned the map in his head and zeroed in on a shrine in the neighborhood, just a few minutes’ walk away. It was a tranquil little oasis in the urban setting but still big enough to host seasonal events. In fact, when Midoriya arrived, he found that the shrine was full of festive stalls and locals milling about. Clearly it was a beloved getaway when one needed a break from big-city living.

“Oh, right! We’re still in the middle of the hatsumode period,” said Midoriya to himself, referencing the Japanese custom of making a special visit to a Shinto shrine or Buddhist temple during the first three days of the New Year. The clinking of coins in the offering box and the ringing of bells reminded Midoriya that he hadn’t done his own hatsumode visit yet, so this seemed as good a chance as any.

“You ever gonna quit stalking me?” came a voice.

“Huh? Kacchan?”

The scowling Bakugo held his own plastic bag—presumably with lunch from a convenience store—and had apparently had the same thought about checking the shrine visit off his to-do list.

“Just a coincidence, I swear!” said Midoriya.

“Then why d’you keep popping up wherever I go?!” roared Bakugo, who clearly didn’t appreciate sharing a train of thought with his longtime acquaintance.

“Keep it down, Kacchan! Let these good people celebrate New Year’s in peace,” said Midoriya, suddenly aware that the crowd was disturbed, presumably by Bakugo’s howling.

“S’not me! It’s them causing a scene!”

“Huh? ‘Them’ who?”

Midoriya followed Bakugo’s pointing finger to the shrine’s main structure, where the crowd was focused on a different pair of shouting boys.

“Quit messing around!”

“I’m not! Just listen to me!”

Midoriya and Bakugo approached the source of the commotion and found two boys arguing. Fifth or sixth graders, by the looks of them.

“You’re just a big traitor, Macchan! Can’t trust you as far as I can kick you!”

“It’s ‘as far as I can toss you,’ Takkun! Not kick!”

“W-whatever! That’s just atlantics!”

“You mean semantics?”

Though the exchange might have come off as a two-man comedy routine, it was clear that Macchan and Takkun weren’t joking around. The gaffe-prone Takkun was red in the face from anger and embarrassment, and the more well-read Macchan was on the verge of tears.

Midoriya stepped forward, hoping to end the conflict.

“Take it easy, you two. Want to tell me what’s going on?”

“Buzz off, brocco-head!” said Takkun.

“Geez, Takkun!” said Macchan.

Without a proverbial leg to stand on, Takkun desperately made a break for it past Midoriya, who was stunned into silence by the verbal lashing from a complete stranger. The boy didn’t get far though, as he bumped straight into Bakugo, who was still grinning at “brocco-head.”

“Going somewhere?” said Bakugo.

“Eek!” said Takkun. The little hellion tried to change course, but Bakugo’s hand shot out and nabbed his shirt collar.

“Not even a ‘sorry’? Were you raised by wolves?” asked Bakugo.

“Sh-shut up! Villain-face!”

The insult made Bakugo drop his guard, giving Takkun the opportunity to dash off.

“Takkun …” lamented Macchan, watching his companion vanish from sight. “Now what’m I gonna do about the hero karuta tournament tomorrow?” With a wail, he started crying, and despite Midoriya’s attempts to console the boy, the tears flowed as if a levee had burst inside.

“Let the crybaby deal with his own problems,” said Bakugo, but Midoriya guided Macchan to a bench set apart from the plaza and waited for the boy to stop crying. A reluctant Bakugo plopped himself down on the next bench over and dug into his own sandwich. By the time he took his last bite, Macchan’s tears had stopped flowing, at which point Midoriya offered the child the drink he’d just bought.

“Mom says not to accept stuff from strangers …” said Macchan, looking wary.

“Sorry, of course! Well, I’m Deku, and this here is Kacchan.”

“Nobody introduces me but me!” snapped Bakugo.

“Do you know Endeavor’s hero agency? We’re doing a work study over there, as trainees,” explained Midoriya.

“Trainees … ?” said Macchan. “So, you’re gonna be heroes someday?”

“Exactly, so you can trust us. I’m sure all that crying dried you out, so drink this,” said Midoriya.

“Okay. Thanks,” said Macchan, whose nerves had been calmed by Midoriya’s earnest approach.

“Now, can you tell me why you and your friend were fighting?” asked Midoriya.

Freshly hydrated, Macchan hesitated before speaking.

“Um, well … I’m gonna transfer to another school soon,” he began, telling the full story slowly, bit by bit. It turned out that the two boys had been friends for years, but Macchan hadn’t informed Takkun of his family’s upcoming move. He’d finally confessed the sad news today, and Takkun hadn’t reacted well.

“Hah,” said Bakugo with a snort. “That whole tantrum, over that? Your pal’s got some growing up to do.”

“Hang on …” said Midoriya. “Did you mention a hero karuta tournament before?”

“Yeah, it’s happening tomorrow, right here. Takkun and I were gonna enter together,” said Macchan, pointing to a nearby poster advertising the event.

“Hero karuta … Now that brings me back!” said Midoriya, his eyes growing wide. Similar to the standard karuta card game, hero karuta was a race to slap the right card (one of many, in a face-up pile on the floor) based on the pro hero description called out by the reciter.

“Wait, you’ve played before, mister?” asked Macchan.

“Not in a tournament or anything!” said Midoriya. “Just at home, while my mom would read out the phrases.”

“Oh, okay …” said Macchan, not nearly as excited as a moment ago. “I can’t believe Takkun’s just gonna skip the tournament, after we practiced so hard … Maybe I’ll never even see him again …”

Tears started to fill Macchan’s eyes again. Despite Midoriya’s attempts to cheer him up, the boy remained in an inconsolable funk for the remainder of lunchtime, and then Midoriya had no choice but to leave with a hurried goodbye.

When patrol ended that night, the three boys returned to Endeavor’s agency—an ostentatious building that towered over some of the city’s prime real estate. For the massive agency’s thirty-plus sidekicks (alias: the Flaming Sidekickers), employment came with extensive perks, including a training gym, employee lodging, a cafeteria, and much, much more. Midoriya and his classmates had also been sleeping at the agency for the duration of their work study. After reporting on the day’s events, they were headed to the cafeteria when they bumped into Burnin, one of Endeavor’s sidekicks, who was carrying her emptied dinner tray.

“Hard day’s work? How’d it go?” she asked. “I hope you’re managing to keep up with the boss!”

“Stuff it,” said Bakugo with a glare, while Midoriya and Todoroki nodded at her politely. On closer inspection, Burnin noticed how bedraggled and exhausted the trio looked.

“Nuh-uh, we don’t let our people starve around here! Go get yourselves some katsu curry! It’s the daily special!” said Burnin as she walked away.

Without a word to each other, the trio found an empty table, ordered their food (jumbo katsu curry for Midoriya, jumbo spicy katsu curry for Bakugo, and katsu curry with a side order of soba for Todoroki), and got to work on filling their empty stomachs, knowing that a hearty meal was just the thing to recover from the day’s fatigue and give them strength for tomorrow. Bakugo left an empty seat between himself and Todoroki, ensuring that he’d be as far from Midoriya as possible. About halfway through the meal, Todoroki finally found the energy to strike up a conversation.

“Did you two try that book?” he asked.

“You mean Meta Liberation War?” said Midoriya. “Yeah, but I haven’t finished yet, since I always fall asleep so quickly every night.”

Meta Liberation War was one part autobiography, one part manifesto, written by Destro, the first leader of a radical faction that sought the right to use Quirks (or “meta abilities,” as they were called in his days) more freely in society. Hawks, who was currently undercover in the Paranormal Liberation Front, had handed Endeavor and the trio copies of the book, though the boys were none the wiser that Endeavor’s copy contained a secret code from Hawks.

“Why the hell would I read anything by some extremist whack job?” said Bakugo. “And also, shut up—I’m trying to eat over here.”

“Have you gotten through it, Todoroki?” asked Midoriya.

“No. I always nod off too,” said Todoroki.

“Mm-hm. Once my head hits that pillow, it’s game over. Oh, unrelated, but have you figured out that thing about condensing your power to a point?” said Midoriya.

“Not yet. I feel like I’m getting close, though … What about you, Bakugo?” said Todoroki.

“Course I’ve got the gist. And would you cram it, already?”

“Sorry,” said Todoroki, who got back to slurping his soba noodles.

“You really love soba, don’t you,” said Midoriya.

“Yes. There’s nothing more delicious,” said Todoroki.

“Good thing you can add a soba side order to just about anything on the menu here, huh,” said Midoriya. Besides the usual suspects like curry and various donburi, the menu offered sandwiches, pizza, cake, and other dishes that one wouldn’t typically pair with soba.

Midoriya’s observation prompted Kido and Onima—two more members of the Flaming Sidekickers—to pipe up from the table behind the boys.

“Heh, you noticed? There’s actually a reason why they offer soba with everything here!” said Kido.

“After Shoto did his internship with us, the boss insisted on that change to the menu,” explained Onima.

Todoroki instinctively scowled upon hearing this. The day their work study had formally begun, he’d said, “Let’s stop that father-son crap in front of my friends,” but every day was full of constant reminders that he was the boss’s son. The murderous look forming on Todoroki’s face—which Midoriya recognized—was reminiscent of the days when his obsessive hatred for Endeavor had isolated him from his peers and made him more than a little antisocial. But one look at the soba was enough to calm his nerves.

“Not the soba’s fault, I guess,” he said. The loud slurping resumed, and Midoriya breathed a sigh of relief. Bakugo shot a repulsed glance at Todoroki before reaching for more hot sauce for his curry.

“And he’s actually pretty amazing, as a hero,” added Todoroki. He still couldn’t respect Enji Todoroki as a father, but he was plenty impressed by Endeavor, the pro hero. Working with the man in the field had only reaffirmed that assessment, and it was a stance that Midoriya and Bakugo shared.

“Ooh! The boss could die happy after hearing that!” said Onima.

“We’ll have to pass on the compliment later!” said Kido.

“Don’t. Please don’t,” said Todoroki. He’d already expressed that very sentiment to his father in person a while back, and he didn’t need these sidekicks gossiping and stirring the pot any further.

Kido and Onima finished their meal, leaving the boys to themselves again.

“It’s crazy how quickly Endeavor senses when there’s trouble afoot, though. It’s like he’s got a built-in radar for these things,” said Midoriya.

“Mm-hm. No matter how close we are to the perp, he always beats us to the punch,” said Todoroki.

Midoriya had just been trying to make conversation, but Todoroki’s frank response made him dive into his usual analysis mode.

“I used to have this image of him as a hero who would take down criminals through sheer force, but actually, there’s much more subtlety to his moves. Maybe those instincts come from years of hero work? But it’s not just that! His eye for detail extends to an impressive knack for crisis management, which I think we have to thank for the low crime stats here, within his jurisdiction. His big finisher moves might look flashy and haphazard, but a closer look has shown me how precise he is when he unleashes them. Audaciously delicate, you might say? I was also shocked at how spot-on his advice for us was. Being able to put pointers into words like that comes not just from instinct, but from hard work and experience, I think … Ah, not that I’ve got anything against learning by intuition, or …”

“SHUT! UP! Can’t a guy eat in silence?”

“Oops, sorry, Kacchan!”

Midoriya was silenced by Bakugo for a moment, but his motormouth wouldn’t be held at bay for long.

“Actually, since forever ago, I’ve noticed how you prefer silence when you’re eating spicy food. And then, that one time in elementary school, you were like, ‘Curry’s not s’posed to be this sweet, dammit!’ and the teacher got really mad.”

“What did I just say? Maybe you’ll pipe down with that katsu stuffed down your throat!” said Bakugo, reaching for Midoriya’s plate.

“Whoa! Cut it out, Kacchan!” said Midoriya, trying to keep Bakugo from making good on that threat.

“You brought it on yourself!”

“Aren’t you two childhood friends? Why do you fight so much?” said Todoroki, watching the madness with a puzzled expression.

“Huhh?”

“Hmm?”

“You’ve known each other for years, right?” said Todoroki. “I thought childhood friends were supposed to … act like actual friends.”

While Midoriya struggled to come up with an answer to Todoroki’s candid question, Bakugo’s face twitched and contorted.

“What? As if you’re s’posed to get along just cuz you’ve known someone awhile … ? Then how d’you explain you and dear daddy, huh?”

Bakugo’s pointed remark made Todoroki stop and think.

“No, you’re right. After all, Midoriya and I are friends,” he said.

“Aw, Todoroki …” said Midoriya with joy in his eyes. He hadn’t made friends who really acted like friends until high school, so Todoroki’s declaration delighted the former loner.

“That buddy-buddy crap makes me wanna hurl, so leave me the hell outta it!” howled Bakugo.

After dinner, the three boys moved to the shared bathing area. While scrubbing away the dirt and grime, they chatted about the day’s events, reflected on what could’ve gone better, and discussed the kakizome homework. Their living quarters were equipped with personal showers, but one of the big perks of the extravagant agency was the bathing facility, which, like a hot spring resort, offered multiple types of baths to soothe weary bodies and strip away fatigue.

Patrol would begin bright and early the next morning, but any remaining time between bathing and bed was theirs to use as they wished. On this particular night, Midoriya spent some time studying with Todoroki before returning to his own room. He settled into the ample, inviting bed, but his eyes refused to close.

I hope those kids are okay …

That other pair of childhood friends was on his mind, and Midoriya was bothered by the fact that he hadn’t been able to declare “I’m sure you’ll make up in no time” to Macchan. What right did he have to give that sort of pep talk without experience to back it up?

“Aren’t you two childhood friends? Why do you fight so much?”

Midoriya sighed, remembering Todoroki’s reasonable question.

He and Bakugo had played together as kids, but that had all changed out of the blue one day, and Midoriya still had no inkling why. Even if they were on more even footing recently, that history couldn’t be erased.

When asked, Midoriya would describe his relationship with Bakugo by saying they were childhood friends, but was that really apt? As Todoroki had pointed out, they didn’t get along at all, and no outside observer would guess that they were friends now.

In contrast, the boys from earlier had been prepared to enter a karuta tournament together; there was genuine friendship there.

I just hope they patch things up somehow …

Midoriya tried running simulations in his head about how Macchan and Takkun might bury the hatchet, but there was no easy answer. Hoping to cool his overworked head, he got out of bed and made for the beverage corner.

“Kacchan?”

“If it ain’t my stalker again.”

Bakugo was sitting on a windowsill with a soda in hand. Unable to muster the strength for a retort or denial, Midoriya gave a weak, ambiguous chuckle before fetching a beverage of his own. He thought about picking one of the health drinks loaded with protein but ultimately settled on mineral water to slake his thirst. Bakugo made no move to return to his own room, so Midoriya approached, being sure to leave a safe distance between them.

“I wonder if those boys will make it to the karuta tourney tomorrow,” he said.

“Who cares? That’s their business,” said Bakugo.

“I … guess so, but …”

Midoriya had nothing to follow up with, so he just sipped his water while Bakugo gulped his soda.

“That little crybaby reminded me of another dork I know,” said Bakugo with a slight sneer.

Midoriya realized the other dork was him. He had been a crybaby—that wasn’t up for debate—but the fact that the jab annoyed him at all felt like proof that he wasn’t the punching bag he’d once been.

“Yeah? Well, I saw a little bit of you in the other boy,” said Midoriya.

“Huhh?! Which part?”

“The nasty mouth on him.”

Bakugo remembered Takkun’s “villain-face” comment and scowled.

“We ain’t alike at all!” spat Bakugo, but the retort sounded half-hearted, as if he couldn’t fully deny the resemblance. He hopped off the windowsill with a discontented cluck of his tongue, but as he walked past, Midoriya mumbled something under his breath.

“I just want them to make up …”

Bakugo stopped in his tracks.

“Quit acting so high ’n’ mighty, like you know what’s best for everyone.”

“Huh?”

“You seriously got the energy to cry about brats you never even met before today? The way you do that kinda crap … It’s always given me the freakin’ creeps,” said Bakugo with a seething glare. He stomped off, leaving Midoriya to breathe in the stinging silence left in his wake. It was an old but familiar sensation that made him sigh. Midoriya genuinely wished the best for those boys, but Bakugo only saw a hypocrite indulging in virtue signaling.

He forced the final sip of water down his throat, sighed again, and shuffled off to bed in preparation for another busy day.

While out on patrol the next day, the boys could barely keep up with Endeavor, as usual.

“Deku!” shouted Endeavor. “Get your head outta the clouds! You’re here to work, right?”

“Sorry, sir!”

Endeavor’s scolding came after Midoriya had lagged behind while chasing down a villain. Try as he might, his lack of sleep was keeping him from focusing properly.

I wonder what happened with those boys and their karuta tournament … Ack! No, no—focus up. It’s not like I can go and check up on them …

Midoriya had to remind himself that yesterday’s leisurely lunch break had been the exception to the rule. But a few hours into their patrol shift, a miracle happened.

“What?” said Endeavor into his phone. “An emergency call from Mirko? Fine, patch her through.”

“What’s up, Endeavor? Mind lending me a hand or two? I’m dealing with a villain who doesn’t know when to quit!”

Mirko—the unyielding bunny hero—was loud enough that the boys could hear her voice even without Endeavor’s phone at their ears, which got Midoriya all sorts of excited. Apparently, she was facing a villain weak to fire Quirks, so when Endeavor agreed to help, she ended the call with “Great! And make it snappy!” without bothering to mention the location.

“Where does she get off …” said a grimacing Endeavor. After a pause, he changed gears and gave the boys orders.

“I would tell you three ‘Keep up!’ but in an emergency like this, you’d only slow me down. Until I get back, keep patrolling with the sidekicks.”

With lightning-quick judgment, Endeavor realized that if habitual solo artist Mirko was having trouble, then this villain was probably no laughing matter. “Lemme come too!” protested Bakugo, but Endeavor was already fading into the distance, which further fueled Bakugo’s bad mood.

As luck would have it, there were no incidents for the rest of the morning, so Midoriya and Bakugo were granted a rare lunch break once again, while Todoroki returned to the agency for a follow-up to the interview of the day before. Of course, they were still technically on call, just in case an emergency popped up.

“Kacchan, I’m gonna head to that shrine for … Wait, huh?”

Before he could explain that he wanted to check out the hero karuta tournament, Midoriya realized Bakugo was already gone.

Probably ran off to get some lunch?

Midoriya hurried back to the shrine on his own and found the place bustling with friends and family of the tournament entrants.

Now where are those boys? Did they even show up today?

Midoriya scanned the crowd and instantly noticed a familiar spiky hairdo.

“Kacchan!”

“Tch!”

Bakugo clucked his tongue without even bothering to turn around and acknowledge Midoriya.

“What brings you here, huh?” asked Midoriya. “Don’t tell me you also care about those boys!”

“I was just hoping to find those food stalls from yesterday, is all!”

“Oh. Right,” said Midoriya, who knew from Bakugo’s pinched expression that getting any closer to him would end badly. That was then they both heard a pair of familiar voices.

“We gotta play, though! What was all that practice for?”

“No way!”

“Then why’d you even come here?”

It was Macchan and Takkun, arguing near the registration table. Takkun didn’t have a clever answer for Macchan’s reasonable question, so he lashed out in desperation.

“I-I wanted to watch you cry and be all sad that you couldn’t join the tourney!”

Midoriya and Bakugo realized that was the best bluff Takkun could muster, but Macchan took the words at face value and seemed genuinely hurt.

“Aw, man …” said Takkun, suddenly regretting his own cruelty.

“Hey, you two,” said Midoriya, walking up to them. “So you’re playing in the tournament after all? Why don’t we all calm down and talk this out …”

He’d butted in with the best intentions, but a second later, Midoriya found his arm tugged by Macchan.

“Actually, I’m entering with this guy now!” he said. “So you can buzz off, Takkun!”

“Huh?”

Midoriya hadn’t expected to become part of a triangle like this, and Takkun was equally stunned.

“Well, ain’t it your goddamned lucky day!” said Bakugo wryly. “Helping people out is a hero’s job, riiight?”

“Th-then my partner’s gonna be villain-face over here!” declared Takkun, who wrapped his arms around one of Bakugo’s.

“What? Why me?”

“Why so reluctant, Kacchan? We’re supposed to be heroes, aren’t we?” said Midoriya.

“I ain’t shooting for hero status just to join a card game with some brat!” said Bakugo, ripping his arm away to show he meant it.

“What the heck!” said Takkun in a panic. “I-I guess you never played hero karuta before! Yeah, that must be it!”

“That game for babies? Sure haven’t,” said Bakugo without missing a beat.

“Dang, with a mean ol’ face like that, I was sure you’d be great at it, but … you’re a total scrub? We’re gonna lose so bad!”

Little did Takkun know that in his despair, he’d uttered just the right words to light a fire under Bakugo, who felt a pathological need to be a winner at all things.

“Lose? If you think I’d lose at this kiddie game, you got another thing coming!”

And with that, the teams were decided—Midoriya and Macchan versus Bakugo and Takkun. And as luck would have it, the drawing of lots determined that they would be squaring off in round one of the tournament, doubles-style. Atop a tatami mat, each boy sat on his knees next to his partner, and between the pairs was a scattered pile of cards adorned with images of heroes.

“You get how this works, right, villain-face?” asked Takkun. “When they read out a hero phrase, you gotta touch the right card fastest to win it for your team. Okay?” The boy sounded concerned as he explained the rules to his new partner.

“Touch the right card fastest, blah, blah, blah. Sounds easy,” said Bakugo dismissively. Across from him sat Midoriya, who nodded when Macchan whispered “Good luck!” to him.

“You’re that confident, Kacchan?”

“Huh?”

Something in Midoriya’s voice didn’t sit easy with Bakugo. Intuitively, he sensed impending disaster, took his first good look at the cards, and realized why he was in trouble—the cards didn’t have a smidge of writing on them. Midoriya saw the gears turning in Bakugo’s head.

“That’s right,” said Midoriya ominously. “Unlike in regular karuta, the cards in hero karuta have no words, just pictures. Plus, each round’s selection is chosen randomly from the full set of several hundred, and some of the descriptions start with the same word. If you can’t immediately recognize which hero corresponds to the phrase they read out, you’ll never win a single card, which means …”

“You gotta memorize all the stupid phrases first?” said Bakugo.

“S’why I said a beginner would lose at this game!” said Takkun.

“You coulda explained that earlier!” came Bakugo’s retort.

“What the heck, villain-face! You signed yourself up before I could explain anything!” said Takkun.

“Takkun …” lamented Macchan, as he and Midoriya watched Bakugo and Takkun’s spat with concern.

I just wanted these boys to be friends again, but now we’re caught up in the battle ourselves …

“Let round one begin!” declared the reciter. Midoriya braced for the first hero description.

I’m mostly here as a seat filler, so I should let Macchan take the lead and …

“Cr—”

With a deafening slap and a mind of its own, Midoriya’s hand shot out and landed on a card near the edge of the arena. The reciter was stunned silent for a moment before managing to finish the phrase.

“Crime will soon cease, thanks to the Symbol of Peace …”

“The card’s mine!” said Midoriya, having won the All Might card. “Oh. Oops?”

The casual practice with his mother had apparently paid off, since Midoriya had memorized every last phrase to the letter. He was suddenly wary of seeming like a show-off, but Macchan practically had stars in his eyes.

“Wow! I couldn’t even see your hand, it moved so fast!” said the boy.

“S-sorry!” said Midoriya. “That’s my favorite card by far, so I couldn’t help myself …”

“Don’t be sorry! Winning the cards is a good thing! I just gotta try to keep up!” said Macchan.

“Sure!” said Midoriya, now convinced by Macchan’s earnest smile that he hadn’t done anything wrong. Meanwhile, Bakugo’s and Takkun’s jaws were still on the floor.

“Damn nerd!” said Bakugo, his jaw snapping back into position and twisting into a snarl.

“W-what the heck!” said Takkun, pointing at Midoriya. “You didn’t say your new partner was so good, Macchan! You bustler!”

“I didn’t know either!” fired back Macchan. “And it’s hustler, not bustler. Bustler is just, like … someone doing errands in a big hurry, or something!”

“Urgh!”

Left without a retort once again, Takkun could only chew on his lip and stew in fury.

“Do you boys mind if we continue?” asked the reciter.

“Sorry, yes, please go ahead!” said a mortified Midoriya. When playing for fun with his mother, he’d only loosely stuck to the rules, but a formal match like this was a serious affair. The more serious the game, the sweeter the victory in the end.

“Next card …” said the reciter. “His v—”

Another loud smack, this time from Macchan’s hand, which had landed on the Present Mic card.

“… oice echoes far, past the moon and the stars.”

“Good going, Macchan!” said Midoriya. Macchan beamed, while across from him, Takkun frowned and grumbled to himself.

“Darn … I’ll get this next one!”

However …

Slap!

Slap!

Slap!

Midoriya and Macchan racked up the cards, one after the other, and despite Bakugo’s and Takkun’s attempts, they were always an instant behind. Bakugo’s beginner status explained the trouble he was having, but the skill gap between Macchan and Takkun was pretty massive, considering that they’d trained together. Eventually coming to realize this himself, Takkun balled his fists and grew unusually quiet. Midoriya was trying to figure out how to encourage the boy when Bakugo stepped in.

“Listen, you little turd! Do you wanna win or not?”

“Course I wanna win! Duh!”

“How’re you gonna smack cards with those fists, huh?”

Takkun gasped and glared back at Bakugo.

“Shaddup, villain-face! I was just about to open my hands again, dummy!” said Takkun.

“You brat! Is that any way to talk to people?!” said Bakugo, ignoring his own blatant hypocrisy. Before Takkun could fire back again, the reciter harrumphed, prompting the panicked boy to shut up and get into position. This time, there was fire in Takkun’s eyes.

“Next card …” said the reciter. “Fla—”

Takkun slapped a card right in front of him.

“… mes say your prayers, whether up- or downstairs.”

An excited Takkun held the Backdraft card in his hand.

“Why didn’tcha play like that from the start?” said Bakugo, his venomous tone stripping the compliment of all the good will it might otherwise have had.

“Just sit back and relax, villain-face,” said Takkun. “I’m good enough to play for the both of us.”

“Got a big head now, do ya?”

Rage flashed in Bakugo’s eyes as they swiveled to focus on the cards.

“A worldw—”

Bakugo’s open hand descended with shocking speed onto the Best Jeanist card.

“… ide fashion star, from Monaco to Myanmar.”

“You actually knew that one, Kacchan?” asked a dumbfounded Midoriya.

“Nope,” said Bakugo with a haughty snort. “But there ain’t a ton of heroes in the mix who do anything ‘worldwide.’”

Best Jeanist was actually missing in action at the moment, but before his disappearance, the denim-clad hero had moonlighted as a fashion model with top clothing brands all over the world. The previous year, Bakugo had been scouted by Best Jeanist for an internship, mostly because the hero hoped to correct Bakugo’s notoriously bad attitude.

In any case, Takkun gazed at Bakugo with an aura of newfound respect—duly impressed by that deductive reasoning.

“Villain-face … You’re not half bad …”

“Hah. If that knocked your socks off, then you just wait,” said Bakugo.

“My—”

Slap!

“Her—”

Slap!

“Aca—”

Slap!

Bakugo and Takkun continued to rack up the cards, but Midoriya and Macchan were unfazed, because they knew that games like this had an ebb and flow to them. For now, they were calmly observing their opponents while saving their energy for the cards that remained. Their patience paid off.

“The bu—”

Slap! Macchan’s hand came down hard on the Mirko card.

“… nny that leaped over the moon is sure to make you swoon.”

Macchan’s streak continued with the cards for Midnight (“Whatever the time of day, Midnight’s ready to play”), Yoroi Musha (“Nothing mushy about his code of Bushido”), Uwabami (“Bad hair days are headaches when you’re dealing with snakes”), Endeavor (“His fiery frame has won him acclaim”), Ryukyu (“Rumor’s a’buzzin’ she’s got a dino for a cousin”), Hawks (“About his red wings he’s cocky, and we’re not talking hockey”), and Edgeshot (“Stealth is his art—he’ll infiltrate your heart”).

Despite Takkun’s best efforts, he just couldn’t keep up with his friend’s quick reflexes. But he wasn’t willing to back down, even in the face of a widening point gap.

“This ain’t over yet! Victory’s gonna be mine in the end,” said Takkun, slapping both of his own cheeks to hype himself up. Midoriya caught a note of melancholy on Macchan’s face at the words “in the end.”

“Ma—”

Slap!

“Pr—”

Slap!

Takkun had once again taken control, and the match was nearing its end. But despite the shrinking pile of cards and the growing point gap, Macchan showed no signs of panic. Midoriya realized something was off.

Hold on, is he … ?

Bakugo also raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

“Tr—”

Macchan and Takkun both reached for a card closer to Macchan’s side. Takkun touched it first, but only because Macchan’s hand had frozen in place, just above the card. Takkun stared in horror.

“Macchan, you … you … you’re using kid mittens on me!” said Takkun.

“A-am not …” said Macchan. Unable to look Takkun in the eye, he didn’t even bother correcting kid mittens to kid gloves. Takkun’s face flushed red with rage.

“It’s kid gloves. Get it right, dummy,” said Bakugo, filling in for Macchan.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up …” whined Takkun with tears in his eyes, his anger leaving him without a proper comeback.

Frustration at someone caring a little too much was something Bakugo understood all too well. Midoriya might’ve claimed to act out of the goodness of his heart, but to Bakugo, that cloying, “golly gee!” brand of caring came off as a sickening, holier-than-thou attitude. For the life of him, he couldn’t comprehend people who acted out of a simple desire to help others, with no ulterior motive. Midoriya was the childhood “friend” whom Bakugo just couldn’t shake, and to him, it felt like Midoriya’s constant presence was somehow messing with Bakugo’s destiny.

“And you …” said Bakugo, about to chew into Macchan for holding back. But he was interrupted.

“That’s not right. You have to play seriously,” said Midoriya, gently but firmly. “Sometimes an honest match can teach you things you never realized.”

Macchan looked up at his doubles partner in shock. Under Midoriya’s serious gaze, the boy suddenly felt a pang of guilt.

“Right …” he said with a nod, turning to Takkun. “Sorry for taking it easy on you.”

“Yeah? No more mittens … I mean, gloves. Kid gloves. No more of that,” said Takkun.

“Okay!” said Macchan.

The boys smiled at each other, as if to say, “No hard feelings.” Midoriya was overcome with relief, which didn’t go unnoticed by Bakugo.

In the aftermath of All Might’s sudden and forced retirement, the guilt over Bakugo’s role in those events had eaten away at him. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he’d summoned Midoriya for a heart-to-heart one night, which had transformed into full-on battle between the boys and their troubled souls. It was their first honest-to-goodness, no-holds-barred fight, and ever since, that sickening feeling in Bakugo’s stomach had begun to wane. Still, it was hard to put his finger on what it was about Midoriya that still gave him the creeps. The haughty purity about him? That drive to become a hero solely for the purpose of helping others? Bakugo just couldn’t understand it, but he was starting to accept that fact. That awareness had gone a long way toward helping him endure Midoriya’s presence.

“This match is a true battle, and you’d better win!” said Bakugo, slapping Takkun on the back.

“Yeah, for sure!” said Takkun.

“Let’s keep focused until the very end!” said Midoriya, encouraging Macchan.

“Okay!” said Macchan.

The reciter, who’d been watching this whole affair play out, made a throat-clearing noise.

“May we go on?”

“Ah, sorry about all the delays, really!” said Midoriya. He, Macchan, and Takkun bowed to the reciter, and the game continued.

The rest of the match played out fair and square, and Midoriya and Macchan eked out a narrow victory. This earned them a chance to compete in round two, where they lost to a pair who’d been trained in the art of hero karuta from the time they were old enough to slap cards.

“Dang! Those demon twins are just too good!” said Takkun, as if he’d been the one who’d lost.

Macchan smiled at his friend.

“Wait, why’re you so happy about losing?” asked Takkun.

“Cuz it’s proof that I gave it my all against you, Takkun,” said Macchan. “Not holding back … makes me feel really good. So thanks for the help, Deku.”

“I’m just glad you see it that way,” said Midoriya, returning Macchan’s smile.

“Plus,” said Macchan, addressing Takkun again, “our match against you guys was so exciting. With all that back-and-forth … it was hard to guess who was gonna win. Especially when it came down to just Ingenium and Fat Gum, since both their phrases start with ‘If … ’! That threw me off!”

“Man, I even guessed that one right, but you still won! You’re just too good at this, Macchan,” said Takkun, with a sad smile. Macchan shook his head—as if to chase the sad vibes away—and put on a brave face.

“Takkun!” he said. “I know I’m going to a new school, but I’m gonna keep playing hero karuta, okay? I’m never gonna quit! So … we’ll play together again someday, right?”

“G-guess you’re not giving me a choice! Fine, let’s make a pinkie contract!” said Takkun.

“You mean pinkie promise? Oh, whatever. Close enough!”

“You’re always getting strung up on the details, Macchan.”

The two young boys locked pinkie fingers and thanked Midoriya and Bakugo for their help. As they ran off, Midoriya grinned and waved goodbye, while Bakugo clucked his tongue.

“There goes our precious lunch break,” said Bakugo.

“Ack! I forgot about the ‘lunch’ part!” said Midoriya. Before he could leave, he remembered something and swiveled back toward the shrine.

“I still haven’t done a proper hatsumode visit yet! You go on ahead without me, Kacchan,” he said.

“Dammit, Deku! S’not my style to let you beat me at anything!” said Bakugo, as he dashed past Midoriya. They were only a few paces from the shrine to start with, so they wound up praying side by side anyway.

“Well, what’d you wish for?” asked Midoriya.

“For you to shut up,” said Bakugo.

Bakugo looked as grumpy as ever, but something earnest in his eyes made Midoriya suspect that their wishes had probably overlapped.

Winning to save. Saving to win. Becoming the top hero.

They couldn’t have been further apart, personalitywise, and they saw the world in completely different ways. “Cats and dogs” didn’t even begin to describe how poorly these two got along, and yet Midoriya couldn’t imagine a world without Bakugo. Even those horrible memories had shaped him into the person he was today, which had eventually led to his fateful encounter with All Might. Yes, Midoriya had made it this far thanks to the people in his life, so he was going to walk this path as far as it could take him. All these thoughts and realizations swirled around in his head, forming a renewed sense of resolve.

“Midoriya? Bakugo? I didn’t know you were here,” came a voice from behind.

It was Todoroki, who had decided to visit the same shrine after his lunch meeting.

“Oh. You’re getting along now?” he asked, noticing his classmates standing side by side.

The childhood friends took a second to respond.

“Say something that disgusting again, and I’ll blast the teeth right outta your mouth!” said Bakugo, who was getting goose bumps at the very thought of “getting along” with Midoriya.

“I’m afraid not, Todoroki,” said a pale Midoriya, somberly.

“Oh. Okay … ?” said a clearly puzzled Todoroki, just as Midoriya’s phone rang.

“Deku! Break’s over! Is Bakugo with you?” asked one of the sidekicks.

“Y-yes! I’ve got Kacchan and Todoroki with me right here! We’re on our way!” replied a panicked Midoriya, whose legs were already moving.

“Come on, guys! They want us back!” he said, prompting Bakugo to cluck his tongue as he and Todoroki started running, their breath white and visible in the chilly winter air. This was the path of the hero, and their winter break would be over in just a few short days.