บท 72: Chapter 71
Aside from all the jealousy she felt for him, Shoto was the 1-A student who worried Ochaco the most.
His quirks were powerful, and worse than that, he had excellent control of them.
There was no exercise or training that ever posed a difficulty for him: everything he undertook, both academically and physically, he succeeded to perfection.
On the surface, he was also excellent at hand-to-hand combat, as the overburdened infirmary could attest. But Ochaco found it hard to believe that a single student could get rid of so many people in just a few minutes: even if he was a once-in-a-millennium martial arts genius, it was too far-fetched for her to believe.
Most likely, groups had formed among the students and were fighting to see who would keep Shoto, so they'd have more money to share. That's what Ochaco would have done anyway.
Shoto must have taken advantage of the confusion, perhaps even usied his Quirk to help himself out.
Surely, he'd planned everything from the beginning, even the fact that there would be no cameras in the tunnel...
In any case, it was the only way he could have escaped.
With Quirks as long range as his, Shoto would only have to threaten to roast them like pigs to get them to voluntarily give up the game.
Worse, she knew that he, of all people, wouldn't hesitate for a second to make good on his promises; he was crazy that way.
When Shoto reached her, Midnight quietly reminded her of the rules and the time limit.
Then she went to her place at the edge of the field.
Ochaco looked at Shoto with obvious nervousness, her lips curled into an uncertain smile. She wasn't even surprised that he didn't look at her; her smile melted like snow in the sun. It was no use with him.
She followed his gaze to see what was causing him to turn halfway around; it was the large VIP grandstand he was studying intently. Ochaco didn't understand his interest; the windows were opaque and reflective, and all you could see was the distorted stadium.
She scratched her throat to get his attention: his heterochromatic eyes went to her. His gaze was cold, almost bored.
As usual.
Ochaco had watched Shoto many, many times; the amount of useless information she had about him was great, but the most useful - though rare - proved invaluable.
And if she understood one thing, it was that Shoto had one weakness: his incredibly oversized ego.
- I wonder what it's like to be born on top, she told him casually. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him raise his eyebrows. Ochaco pretended to casually observe the stands.
- I mean, with Quirks like yours, there's no reason for you to lose the championship. It's a foregone conclusion.
He didn't react, but something in his eyes lit up.
- If I had your Quirks, I'd win easily, too. (She shrugged) That's cool, eh, but there's not much to it. People will just think, 'That's Number 2's son'
Ochaco met his gaze.
Now he watched her with frightening attention, his entire focus on her.
Ochaco wanted to swallow, not sure if she really liked being seen, but she held back, preferring to lick her wet lips. She couldn't let him know she was nervous or he would eat her like the rabid thing he was.
- How does your father feel about it ? I don't know if I could stand being number two forever. People say that even the shadow of All Might is thicker than him.
Maybe he'll even stay-
Ochaco gasped.
She'd barely had time to blink before Shoto had crossed the distance between them by one step. He leaned forward, his head just above her. His broad shoulders prevented her from seeing anything behind him or even around her: he was so tall, so broad, so imposing that for a few terrifying moments, Ochaco's world was reduced to him and his cold fury.
- Mid-midnight didn't announce the beginning of the f-
Shoto wrapped his hand around her throat.
Ochaco felt her breath catch in her throat.
He stroked her throat with the fat of his thumb, with a slowness that made her shudder. His eyes had been reduced to two slits that watched her with the attention of a reptile.
- I could break your neck right now.
It was a simple observation, intoned in the same tone one would use when discussing the weather.
Drops of sweat rolled down her neck.
Ochaco would have preferred him to scream, at least, so someone would have noticed that this wasn't normal - that he wasn't normal. She wondered why no one intervened, why...
- ... our two 1-A lovebirds, who surely promise to take it easy so as not to hurt each other too much !
Ochaco tugged at his fingers to get her to let go, but to no avail.
She was so weak, he didn't even notice her scratching his hands.
- I'll tell you once and only once (his voice was low, his tone too calm). If you ever open your filthy mouth about my father again, I'll kill you.
He would.
Ochaco was sure of it, both because his psych evaluation told her he would, and because his gaze - the unsettling calm that hadn't left him since the beginning - was firm, unwavering.
No one in their right mind would threaten to kill someone. Especially with a face as neutral as his.
Slowly, she nodded.
He watched her for a few seconds to make sure she understood.
Finally, when he was satisfied, he removed his hand from her throat and shoved it into his pockets.
The shadow that had obscured his face vanished, his eyes regaining their usual bored glint. Ochaco casually scratched her throat, trying to relax and wipe away the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks.
I'm sure there's the mark of his hand on my throat.
She imagined it red, horrible, indelible.
- I see what you're trying to do, Uraraka.
He tilted his head to one side, his eyes crinkled into two crescents. Was he smiling ?
It was as if the last thirty seconds had just faded from his mind.
Ochaco's hair stood up on the back of her neck.
- And it works, well done.
He removed his jacket and threw it aside.
A cloud of yellow sand rose like a mushroom.
- Don't cry. I hate crybabies more than anything.
Midnight announced the start of the game.
Ochaco bent her legs and forced herself to calm down.
It's okay, it's okay, I just made a mistake. His ego is one thing, but talk about his da-
She didn't even have time to zip up her jacket before he was on top of her : he threw a right hook that stopped just short of her chin.
Surprised by his speed, she almost lost her balance.
She tried to grab his wrist, but it slipped away faster than she could react: a kick to the chest knocked the air out of her lungs and threw her a few meters away.
The crowd roared.
Ochaco spat saliva.
That's good, but you've seen better. Focus and you'll be fine.
- Close combat only: That's what you wanted to achieve when you insulted me, isn't it?
He cocked his neck and raised his hand to beckon her over.
- Bring it on
Ochaco gritted her teeth and forced herself to calm down.
There was a million at stake: she wouldn't let her chance go to waste.
Even if my opponent is completely crazy...
She came at him with a speed that should not have been seen in a student with only a few weeks of training under her belt.
She threw punches, hooks, and attempted the same kick he'd thrown at her earlier. Shoto parried everything with ease; he grabbed her foot and pushed her backwards, causing her to lose her balance again.
It was exactly what she had expected.
She used it to propel herself into a back wheel, sending her other foot into Shoto's jaw as she retreated.
He widened his eyes and stepped back to avoid her.
Ochaco didn't give up, and as soon as the soles of her feet touched the ground, she propelled herself forward again, giving him no respite.
She leapt onto his bent leg, stepped over his shoulder, made a half turn to wrap her thighs around his neck and...
Shoto curled up like a turtle and rolled backwards, landing on the girl's back.
Ochaco, still in the air, gritted his teeth as he realized she had no leverage and was at his mercy.
She hadn't even touched the ground when she felt two hands grab her jacket.
Luckily for her, she hadn't zipped it up: the fists wrapped around her collar and Ochaco twisted to get out faster before he realized his mistake.
But it was she who realized her mistake when she realized that he wasn't trying to grab her, but to remove her jacket; he let it hang from her wrists and, with a few quick moves, used it as a rope to bind her hands behind her back.
He pushed her with the flat of his hand, and she landed on her knees in the sand, almost falling headfirst. The crowd cheered: Ochaco, for her part, looked angrily over her shoulder at Shoto.
He glared at her, hands in his pockets, not bothering to hide his contempt for her; he even turned sideways to call out to Midnight.
- She's immobilized.
Midnight seemed to hesitate, glancing at the teenager to see if she would try anything to escape.
Ochaco gritted her teeth, mentally preparing for what she was about to do.
If I stop here, I'm fucked, because these fucking heroes haven't seen the best of me, and it's going to fuck me up for the internship and-
She fell onto her side and rolled into fetal position.
Shoto looked at her curiously, wondering what she was going to do.
Maybe use her Quirk ? This girl is downright OOC compared to her canon counterpart, so I wouldn't be surprised if she doesn't 'keep her word' for our quirk-less match.
Midnight wanted to give the teenager the benefit of the doubt, so she waited a few more seconds.
Ochaco took three short, intense breaths; when she was sure she wouldn't retreat, she wedged her right hand between her legs, gritted her teeth, and pulled with a sharp tug.
Midnight recoiled: Shoto raised his eyebrows, not expecting events to take such a turn.
Ochaco let out a muffled growl, her teeth sinking into her lips to hold back the scream she wanted to let out. It wasn't the first time, and fortunately the heat tentacles weren't as painful as they could be, but it was far from the most pleasant thing in the world.
The pain radiated in waves from her shoulder to her neck, turning into burning threads as they bounced up and down her arm.
She sat back down and bent her legs to get her hands under her feet and her wrists back in front of her.
- Ochaco Uraraka just managed to free himself by... dislocating her shoulder ?
Present Mic, who had started his sentence with a shout as usual, finished it in a surprised tone.
Then he turned to Aizawa, his eyebrows merging with his hair:
- Aizawa, what do you give your students to turn them into such monsters ?
Between Shoto, Inaza and her, the list was getting longer.
Aizawa himself shook his head, not understanding what was going on.
It was a simple competition, and they were freshmen: there was no reason for them to give their all as if their lives depended on it.
- ... I think the're just feeding off each other.
Half the audience wavered between confusion and awkward applause. Her courage was commendable, but to go so far ?
Ochaco, having freed herself from Shoto's knot with her teeth, jerked her shoulder back into place.
Her arm was still sore and hot, but much better.
Shoto stared at her for several long seconds before he said:
- You know you're doomed to lose this match, right ?
If it was a death match, he would have killed her long ago.
To see her go to such lengths for something whose outcome was predetermined - and which she would undoubtedly lose...
- Don't... (she took a deep breath, drops of sweat rolling down her flushed neck)... don't underestimate me.
Shoto narrowed his eyes as if he saw her for the first time.
I'll never understand people like her.
She stood up on shaky legs, staggering like a drunk on uneven ground, and raised her fists to her face. Shoto glanced at the VIP stands before returning his attention to the task at hand.
Inaza is commendable because he knows how to use his quirk to best serve his beliefs : she's stupid because she thinks resilience is enough to achieve her goals.
Shoto gave her a few precious seconds of respite: then he fell upon her like the wrath of the gods.
He kicked her in the chest, forcing the air out of her lungs, and followed with three well-placed blows to the knee, stomach, and shoulder.
All around them, the crowd fell silent: no one wanted to applaud the teenager who was beating up the girl who was so much weaker than him. For the first time since the beginning, Shoto Todoroki appeared to them as a cruel person: but for all their disapproval, wasn't he just doing what was expected of him?
It was this tournament - this whole concept of teenagers competing in front of them until they fainted - that was truly cruel.
- Surrender
Shoto really, really didn't want to have to drag her off the field by her hair.
Panting, Ochaco crouched, a handful of sand tucked behind her back. She bent her legs, stretched out her arm and-
Shoto's thumb applied painful pressure to her wrist, forcing her to kneel before him. She hadn't even seen him coming. Not again.
- Give up now or I'll break it for you, he whispered in a low voice.
Ochaco, face flushed and drenched in sweat, glared at him from under her lashes.
- You're... insulting me, aren't you?
Her breathing was ragged, her exhalations noisy.
She hated the way he looked at her: with glassy eyes, as if he couldn't bring himself to really see her, even though she should have been the focus of all his attention. His eyes went right through her because she was worthless to him.
The worst part ? Shoto looked at everyone the same way.
To him, Ochaco and all the others were fucking interchangeable pieces.
- Give up
He squeezed her wrist harder: Ochaco winced, showing him clenched teeth rather than groaning in pain.
The sand flowed through her fingers like a golden river.
Ochaco watched Shoto out of the corner of her eye as he used his fingertips to spread out the last grains of sand in her palm.
She moistened her tongue, not swallowing her saliva to form a puddle in her mouth: she slowly tilted her head back, her chin rising imperceptibly. Her chest swelled and she pressed her lips together.
Ochaco was thrown to the ground even more violently than before.
Her skull hit the ground with a gong that reminded her of a church steeple: a hundred other small gongs followed, echoing off the walls of his head before multiplying in a hellish cacophony. Her vision went white, as if a supernova had exploded beneath his eyelids.
-...spit on me
Ochaco wanted to scream, but she couldn't breathe.
- ...fucking poor-
Still blind, she groped around until she found what was crushing her throat.
Her fingers wrapped around some kind of stick - a log? - and she lowered her hands, her fingers hitting a dry, cold, flexible surface. Something was seeping under her shirt, something cold and wet like water, but harder, more compact.
A distant part of the martyred Ochaco understood that it was a leg, a shoe, and some dirt.
- Surrender or I'll turn your windpipe into soup.
An irrational fear gripped Ochaco, for - she was certain - he would do it without hesitation.
- I-I giv-
Her fingernails scraped weakly against the sole, trying to lift it a few miserable millimeters.
Air- I need-
The weight on her throat grew.
- Louder, bitch
She opened her mouth ; black replaced white. Ochaco's eyes rolled back into their sockets.
She fainted.
*
Author's note :
Something important happened chapter 66 and I'm very surprised none of you caught it. Makes me wonder if I'm too subtle or not.
Anyway, decided to get back to the usual time of upload because there had been no significant surge on the power stones count (actually, we've done worse than last week at the same time).
I believe we're not close to get any bonus chapter for a while but meh, that just mean I'll keep a nice amount of stock-piled chapters (Translation : that's a 'you' problem lol).
Power stones goal of the week : 250.
Who knows, maybe we'll make it for 2024.
If you want to support me/read ahead up to 50 chapters of the schedule, you can do so on my P@treon, Nar_cisseENG
See you in the next update everyone !
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