The Warped Hero - A MHA Fanfic

Never Enough (Part 1)

Why was he staring at the ceiling again? All he seemed to do was stare at the fucking ceiling these days. That stupid ceiling with too bright lights and the only windows were those tiny rectangle ones all the way at the top, sprayed with something so you couldn't see out or in.

"You still alive?"

Bakugo knew he shouldn't be grinding his teeth, knew he shouldn't be slapping Shitty Portals outstretched hand away, and knew he shouldn't be so incompetent all he could do was land one hit before going down. That wasn't right. That wasn't what he was supposed to do. He should be the one beating everyone in seconds. Even in shitty sparring matches.

"You didn't get a concussion, did you?"

"Fuck off." Bakugo stalked to the bench. He grabbed his water bottle and chugged it, ignoring Kija's obvious stare from the practice mats. Let her stare, let her stare at his back, because that was where she'd be looking soon. At his back.

Kija's slow, cautious steps sent Bakugo higher on alert. He eyed her as she got to the bench. Fucking hell, was that concern on her face? For him? Or was it doubt? Her doubt of his abilities, that's what it was. She never had that look in class. And if she did, she hid it behind her goggles. Hiding, you don't hide when you're a hero. You win.

And Kija was winning while Bakugo became like Deku.

"How the fuck do you know how to do any of that?"

She sat on the bench, Bakugo didn't care, he kept glaring at her. These answers were what he needed. What he depended on. And they had to come from Shitty Portals of all people.

"I got obsessed with being as efficient as possible."

Efficient. Efficient at winning. Without a doubt in mind. No wondering if the fight would go your way because it always would. That you were good enough to know you'd win. Bakugo needed that.

And he wasn't getting it.

"So, quits for today?"

"You're a shitty teacher."

If Shitty Portals was offended by that, she didn't show it. That irked Bakugo. He couldn't beat her in a fight—no, he couldn't beat her in a sparring match—and he couldn't beat her with words, either. Nothing got under her skin unless she let it. Unless she wanted it to.

"And what makes you say that?"

"I haven't learned a thing."

"You've been landing more hits and dodged a lot. Even if you didn't learn, you improved. That's hard to do when all we do is spar."

"It's not enough."

"It's a good pace for someone trying to do everything at once."

"Because that's how I get better."

"No, it's how you bullshit everything to the point you fuck it all up when you need the skills you half-assed." Kija glared at him and Bakugo glared back, "You wanna be the pro that can't properly bandage a person, offer enough comfort to someone in shock, or land a punch on a villain? Not knowing one of those is bad enough, you're a shit hero if you can't do any."

Bakugo set explosions off in his hand, "Shut up."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not a shit hero."

"You're in training, Bakugo, I'm not even considered a pro yet. None of your classmates are, and neither are you."

"I'm better at it then they are."

"Prove it."

"What?"

"From the way you're talking, it should be easy to prove you're better than them. So do it, and I'll shut up."