Whipped Cream {Sequel to Marshmallow}

Chapter Fourteen

Izuku knew the chances against his was stacked. He was against everyone, everyone was against him, everyone was against everyone.

It wasn't very heroic in his opinion but he couldn't complain.

Katsuki had been called to the front, high expectations for a grand and inspirational speech that's show just how humble UA was. Instead they'd got the highly expected - from those who knew him (which had now expanded into a small group) - 'I'm going to win so all you extras can give up'. 

Well, it was a little more complex than that, and as Izuku thought about it, it was kind of inspirational. He, in his own way, told everyone he was going to work hard and so should they.

Izuku had caught eye contact a few times, and each his heart leapt, because some words were aimed to him. Aimed to an old promise they still kept as the branding of their friendship and alliance. Katsuki was telling Izuku that he was going to work hard, and so should the Quirkless boy.

His Auntie - he had been of few unfazed by her little clothing and adult attitude, having grown up around it - had explained the rules to the game and set them on their way. 

An Obstacle race, a nearly four-k' course around the arena. 

Right, it wouldn't be that simple - Auntie had the same glint in her eye as she did the first time she met Izuku, and his pockets had been full of sweets by the time she left. He sighed, bouncing on his toes slightly. He knew he wouldn't be prepared either way, he never would.

He was against eleven classes, with Quirks and support equipment - students he knew and didn't. He felt some of their eyes though - he knew they knew. Airi had spread the word quickly, along with the half-DNA they shared. 

It hadn't got to the Teacher's though, Izuku hadn't heard it from his own guardians. Just a rumour amongst students. He clenched his fists, flexing his achy wrist and closed his eyes. 

His shoes - they were black, as black as they could get without a care for the way his toe was wrapped in thick plasters to prevent blisters - had grips on the bottom, preparing him for 'anything'. He had lied to why he wanted them to be gripped; he knew one of his strongest classmates was going to push himself forward with his ice. No one else would run along it, creating a smooth and possibly faster route straight through the middle. So gripped black shoes.

His utility belt was firmly around his waist, Quirk suppressant patches in one couch, and the rolled up Capture weapon - smaller and lighter than his Unkie's for reasons he had yet to tell them - in another. He wasn't allowed anything sharp or made for intention of harming, so he had two chop sticks. He wasn't sure or when he needed them, but Izuku had become accustomed to being prepared for anything. 

His eyes opened as wind whipped around them, making his long - but not quite long enough - hair slap and scratch his face. Scrunching his nose at the knowledge his Unkie had been right, and pulled the bobble from his free pouch, pulling the top curls into a small bun at the top-back of his head, keeping it out his face.

Taking in a deep breathe, Izuku pulled out his hearing Aids, putting them away securely and rubbing the sore skin. He could still hear, although muffled and as though his head was being held under water, and there was a strange pressure when the aids were gone, he could still hear.

And so, with his analyst mind by ears cut off and stopping him thinking about what other people were doing - that's what is Unkie had said - he let his observational skills take head. He looked where he was in the group, how far from those who would help him; unknowingly; and formulated plans.

He assessed everyone around him, but how they'd effect him, and him not they, how it risked his chances being where he was. Izuku was an analyst, and even though his fingers itched to be writing and tongue felt heavy in urge to mumble, he solved both problems. He shoved a finger between his teeth, eyebrows furrowed. 

Izuku was going to use every advantage he could because a Hero couldn't be proud, or humble, or try to do it on their own. A Hero had to rely on everything around them, because a Villain would too.

So, as the bell rung, he ran.

And even though he couldn't hear it, Izuku knew Cheo was cheering for him.