Whipped Cream {Sequel to Marshmallow}

Chapter Eighteen

Izuku's heart dropped, eyes widening as he looked at the board. 

Of course, his luck of all things decide to play up now! It'd been going so well!

But here he was, in the first round of fights in the next phase of the festival, facing off his brother. And to top it off! His Uncle was making fun of his nervous face in his photo!

Biting his lip, Izuku took a deep shaky breathe and Denki patted his shoulder. "It'll be fine Zukun, but I'll definitely be cheering for Hitoshi." Izuku snapped his attention to Denki, eyes wide.

"What? C-Come on! Kisan! Ju-Just bec-because you like-" A hand slapped over his mouth, and the blonde was glaring slightly, hissing through his teeth. "Okay! You win, now shut it and get lost!"

Grinning, Izuku waved by and thanked them for his shouts of good luck and caught eyes with Hitoshi as they headed to their sides. The purple haired boy stopped him in the hall, eyeing the missing capture weapon. His own sat comfortably on his shoulders. 

"You not using it?" Izuku shrugged, smiling sheepishly. "I figured it'd b-be boring if we both used them. We know e-each others moves with the-them, so y'know, gotta have some sort of advantage." 

Hitoshi sighed, looking away. "My tactic, none of it-" Izuku cut him off then, determination flashing over his face. "Everything you can say to me has been said before. Don't worry, none of it means anything."

Hitoshi grinned, snagging the bobble from Izuku's hair. He held it above Izuku mockingly. "Understandable. I'm keeping this, gotta have some sort of advantage." 

He split off before Izuku could yell, and he instead groaned, pushing his hair out his face the best he could as he headed to his area. 

Taking a few deep breathes, Izuku closed his eyes, hands curling into fists.

"Forget anyone else is there. Analyse Hitoshi, and myself, nothing else." And as his name was called, he stepped out.

________

The rules were simple; don't cross the border of the sand pit. He could do that, Izuku could do that.

As the gun rang, he dropped to a more bouncy position, jumping to the side at Hitoshi's first attack.

Izuku was on the defensive, ducking beneath the capture weapon and dodging side to side. He grabbed the chop stick, using it as an anchor in the ground as he slipped, keeping his hand clenched around it as he jumped back up.

Izuku wondered whether the conscience effort not to mutter was affecting the way he was fighting; but he didn't have time to ponder.

"You're fighting is sloppy, what's going on Izuku? Are you tired now? Training not enough? Didn't you score near lowest in the test at the beginning of the year? That's gotta be embarrassing! Especially after you spent so long train-

"Stop it!"

And boom, Izuku's body ran cold. If he could, Izuku would have panicked, but his body was at perfect peace as he fell under Hitoshi's control.

"Walk out the border." Izuku's body moved on it's own, a numb and cold feeling in his limbs as he fought for control.

Izuku racked his brain, finding a way out. 

There had to be one - his eyes widened slightly. The chop stick was still in his hand, the end still sharp from where it had broke moments before. 

He grind his teeth, trying to get his arm to move a little, and when it did he pushed all the strength into pushing it against his leg - crying out as the control was released as the chop stick burst past his skin, making a home within the flesh of his muscle. 

He could already hear his Unkie's lecture. 

Turning to face Hitoshi, and leaving the chop stick in his leg, using the section of capture scarf he'd broke off from his own and stuffed in a pouch, he wrapped it around securely while glaring with a grin.

Hitoshi was pale.

"Are you crazy?!"

His hands danced. 'No, just logical.'

He leapt to the side, away from a strand of the scarf and grabbed it with one arm, yanking quickly and harshly, using the moment Hitoshi lost balance to run forward and sweep his legs from under him. 

He grinned wider, skidding to the side as the scarf flew up and took a few steps back, keeping in a crouch as Hitoshi stood. He looked dazed for a second, before blinking it away. His mouth opened, about to make a snide remark, when Izuku launched. 

His opponent was already hazed, stance off slightly and in a rush to end the battle. 

He landed on top of Hitoshi, only to yelp as he was flipped over, looking up at Hitoshi's slight grin and his head inches from the bordering line. But Izuku knew he was going to win - just by the positioning Hitoshi had yet to notice.

His feet were across his hips.

"Don't u-underestimate me!"

With one push, he flipped Hitoshi over the border, rolling over his own shoulders and landing on the floor a single second later. 

"Midoriya wins!"

He helped Hitoshi up, smiling and rubbing the back of my neck. "I didn't do th-that too hard did I?" He received a head shake and the two headed towards the groups of kids.

"That was stupid." Izuku raised an eyebrow, and Hitoshi gestured to his bleeding leg. Right, he'd forgotten about that, adrenaline numbing the pain.

"I'm s-so de-dead."

Hitoshi nodded, grimacing.

And it was as he Airi leave, he heard the taunts. 

From the classes, and from the surrounding audience. Izuku realised with a shock that his face had been matched up with the news report, and now everyone knew.

There was a Quirkless boy competing.