[Chapter 10]: Hand Me A Cup

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     Hitoshi was a thinly veiled pillar of rage. Most people probably wouldn't have noticed anything off about his demeanour at all, but most people couldn't read auras either. The usual soft lavender was spiking at the edges as if he was electrically charged, sparking and stabbing the air in a deep roiling purple. It was enough to tell me his temper was writhing within.
A pang of sympathy struck my heartstrings, feeling as though there was nothing I could do to lift his spirits. Sure, he had placed amongst the lower half of the rankings, but he still made it to the next round. There was plenty of time to redeem himself and push his way through the ranks.
My lips thinned at the visible straining of his jaw. Even from a distance, I could tell he was beating himself up about this.
Flopping back down onto the uncomfortable hard plastic U.A. had the gull to call a chair, I smiled faintly. All of my friends would be proceeding to the next event. It was easy to see that they would go far in this festival—they all had bountiful potential and determination in their hearts. One day, they'd make great Pros.
I hoped that one day I could say the same.
The next round was a cavalry battle. Everyone had to form teams, joining their forces in order to collect the most headbands. Izuku mine as well have had a target painted on his forehead—the poor little broccoli was gifted a ten million point headband for entering first in the last event. Some prize.
Soon enough, the teams were formed and I noticed with slight surprise that Tenya had chosen not to pair with Izuku. A smart decision strategy wise, but shocking nonetheless. They were such good friends...
Dammit, now I had to choose who to cheer for.
The competition started with a bang in a flurry of flying limbs and blurring auras as everyone exploded into action. Team Midoriya, as I had so lovingly deemed it, was an obvious target.
I could barely keep up with all of them. There was no way for me to follow what was going on, it was all happening so fast. A few teams had already been eliminated and the supply of headbands was dwindling fast.
Huffing in annoyance, I decided to do the one thing that I could do. I cheered at the top of my lungs. "WOOOOOO! GO CLASS 1-A! SHOW 'EM WHAT WE'RE MADE OF!"
A few large eyes turned their gazes in my direction, startled by the sudden outburst.
"NO KACCHAN, STOP! STOPPPPPPP! DON'T KILL IZUKU! OH MY GOD!"
Soon the roaring of the crowd escalated to never before seen heights, a frenzy of my own creation. Yes, I thought smugly. This is what I'm here for.
Quickly, my eyes drifted around for Hitoshi. He was casually gliding across the field on the shoulders of random students. I blinked. Was that Ojiro and Aoyama?
A short burst of laughter escaped my mouth despite myself. He had them under mind-control. Evident by the glassy look in their eyes and lack of any prior communication between the three. I felt a brief swell of pity for the poor unsuspecting boys, but my amusement at the purple q-tip's antics was much greater.
I grinned fiercely. "WAY TO GO, HITOSHI! WRECK THEM! DESTROY THEM! BREAK THEIR WILLS TO LIVE!"
There was a pause of brief silence as the people beside me registered my words. A few young children shrank away from me. Parents stared gobsmacked in my direction.
Admittedly, that may have been a bit overkill. What can I say? Old habits die hard.
Nevertheless, the battle raged on.
     Headbands were being snatched left and right, people were fighting with everything they had. Before I could even register what was happening, everyone closed in on Team Midoriya, a last ditch effort for glory.
Then the match was over.
Everyone fell silent with bated breath. My own breath hitched in anticipation, gripping the seat of my chair. The need to know was like an itch I couldn't scratch as Midnight finally took up the mic to announce the teams who would be continuing on to the next round.
She smirked. "The moment we've all been waiting for! Rankings will now be presented on the screen."
My eyes scanned the board instantly. In first place was Team Todoroki, coming in second place was Bakugou's team... yeah, yeah. Where's Izuku and—?
     HITOSHI'S TEAM CAME IN THIRD! I squealed internally. HELL YEAH! Quickly, I glanced down to find the final team making it to the next round... It was Team Midoriya.
The emotion that overwhelmed me was what I could only associate as akin to how it must feel to be a proud mother. An unsettling prospect that again left me feeling the need to sleep more. I really needed a coffee.
Thankfully, the festival was taking a break for all of the competitors to recharge and eat. I was out of my seat in an instant, barreling down to the locker rooms where I knew my friends would be gathering. As I blazed by the General Department's section, I skidded to a halt.
Suddenly, I felt shy, picking at the strings on my socks. Would he want to see me? We had only just recently become official friends... Oh for God's sake, (Y/N), I internally chided myself. You're just congratulating him for making it to so far in the festival.
Then the thought of my other friends came to mind. If I stayed to wait for Hitoshi, I may not get the chance to see them before the next round. Who knows how long it would take him to get changed? Maybe he wouldn't come out at all!
Subconsciously, I knew that I was looking for a reason to leave.
As I stood their conflicted, debating furiously and irrationally inside my head, the boy that had been clouding my thoughts appeared from the changing room. "(Y/N)?"
I must have jumped a foot in the air at his voice abruptly cutting off my thoughts. He was standing before me, sporting loose black track pants and a white t-shirt to match. I smiled awkwardly.
"Hitoshi! Hi!" Internally, I cringed at my own squeaking voice. "You've been doing so well in the competitions so far and the way you tricked Ojiro and Aoyama into joining your team was so wicked and I was cheering sooooo loud the entire time, actually, I got some pretty weird looks from a couple of people in the audience because of it—"
Hitoshi swiftly placed his calloused hand over my mouth, effectively ending my jittery rambling. I blushed dark red.
"Sorry," I muffled against his palm.
He was looking me over with an amused glint in his eyes, clearly enjoying my gushing, but too prideful to admit it. His hand dropped from my lips.
I coughed and continued, this time slower and less excitable. "I'm really proud! I just wanted to stop by and congratulate you, but I wasn't sure if you'd be busy..."
"The way you're talking, I don't think I'd be losing time even if I was." He smirked.
My blush came back with a vengeance as I lightly punched his arm. "I'm excited! Leave me alone."
His hand dropped to my hair, ruffling it playfully. There was nothing that he could possibly do that would make it worse than it already was. I forgot to fix it this morning.
"I heard you cheering," he said, glancing away almost bashfully. "You were embarrassingly loud."
My mood bounced back immediately and I grinned at the enticing pink hue of his cheeks. "Damn right I was."
He snickered, quickly regaining his usual laid back demeanour. "Who knew you could be so loud? Screaming my name, no less."
There was an implication in his words that made my cheeks burn brighter and my second punch harder. "You're worse than Mineta," I grumbled. We paused a beat. "...Do you want to go down and get food with me or not? I need a coffee."
He quirked a brow. "You're not already wired on the stuff? I had chalked up your incessant pestering to a caffeine high."
"Sleep-deprivation, actually."
Hitoshi glanced in my direction. "Join the club." He quipped.
"And risk looking like you? Nah, I think I'll pass." I teased.
We had been walking in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, shoulders brushing contentedly, when he finally broached the topic. "You're wearing my sweater." He stated bluntly.
I reeled away from the statement like he slapped me. "It was the first thing I grabbed!" I protested
"I think you like it."
"I was in a rush!" I fought.
Hitoshi rolled his eyes. "Whatever, it looks good on you," he commented off-handedly.
"Thank you," I huffed.
Wait.
Just before I could snap out a cocky reply, we had reached the doors to the cafeteria. Bouts of excited chatter and loud laughter could be heard behind its heavy wood. I groaned.
"There better be coffee," I growled. "Or else, someone's gonna have to answer to me."
The doors burst inwards.
I strode in confidently. Sure enough, the cafeteria was packed from wall to wall with bustling students each with a tray of food in hand. I scanned the room for the nearest coffee pot, but came up short due to my lacklustre height. I wasn't particularly short, but everyone at U.A. just seemed to be monstrous!
My purple-eyed companion watched with vague exasperation as I proceeded to hop up and down like a frog to peer over the crowd. All of the hopping proved to be futile in the face of unfair height advantages and I was just about ready to grumpily give into my fate when two warm hands gripped my waist. I squealed loudly as I was lifted into the air.
"Hitoshi!" I whisper-shouted. "What are you doing?"
He shrugged. "Hurry up and find whatever you're looking for. I don't want to be here all day and I'm not afraid to drop you."
With that said, I hastily grazed my eyes over the tables upon tables filled with delicious smelling foods and colourful arrays of drinks. There. In the corner at the back. Beautiful and scarcely occupied was my coffee station, shining brightly amidst the cafeteria like a siren's call in a Dead Sea, waiting for my arrival.
Fervently, I tapped Hitoshi's hand. "I found it! I found it! Let me goooooo!"
I was promptly dropped. Stumbling for a minute, I whirled on the boy. "You did that on purpose."
"Maybe."
Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. "Come on." I grabbed his hand and surged into the crowd, not noticing the flames that flushed his face to the tips of his ears.
Hitoshi's hand was large and warm in my own, pleasantly rough where he had worn callouses into his palm from countless hours of relentless training. It remained limp in my grasp for a few moments until he finally seemed to overcome his shock and reciprocated the gesture by entwining his long, slender fingers with mine. I jolted slightly at the fluttering sensation the simple action triggered in my stomach.
It's packed in here, I rationalized. I'd lose him if I didn't hold his hand.
Finally, I squeezed my way through a small parting in the mob of people and emerged to find my holy grail. A warm pot of liquid gold.
Coffee.
I nearly jumped for joy at the sight, spinning to grin ecstatically at Hitoshi. He sighed. "Really? This is what you were looking for?"
I pouted, feeling a bit slighted by his lack of enthusiasm.
"(Y/N)!"
I slammed face first into Hitoshi's chest—who steadied me immediately after catching my fall—when Ochaco crashed into my back.
"I was hoping to see you in here! What do you think of the festival so far?! It's so much cooler in person—!" Her hyper chattering was abruptly silenced upon pulling back and seeing me in the unplanned embrace of Hitoshi Shinsou.
She blinked. Slowly a light began to sparkle within the depths of her brown eyes.
I shook me head warningly. "No—"
But Ochaco paid no heed to my silent pleading as her eyebrows began to wiggle furiously and she leaned into me in a very obvious conspiratorial manner. "Is this the guy?!" She whispered.
I squeaked at her insinuation. "Ochaco! Now is not the time!"
"Just figured I'd verify. Your reaction says it all." She snickered. Then she glanced up to Hitoshi. "He's cute. Doesn't really look like the type to like cats, though." She gestured pointedly to the sweater I was donning.
I buried my face in my hands with a groan.
She giggled. "Alright, alright. I'll leave you two alone."
I gasped, staring at her with betrayal in my eyes. "Ochaco—!"
"You can thank me later!" She was already skipping away into the crowd with an unwavering grin plastered on her face. "I expect you to come congratulate me when I win this thing!"
Then we were alone.
It was now pressingly quiet between Bedhead and I. There were no words.
His gaze was fixated on the back of my head, though, I could feel it. Finally, he decided to brush off the strange encounter with a chuckle. "Guess that's your friend? She seems... nice."
A prominent scowl twisted my features.
"You have no idea." I relented. "Hand me a cup."

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