Shoot Your Shot - MHA College AU

Scene 13: Redemption

{ Scene 13: Redemption }

Standing at the edge of the plastic, foldable table, fingers sticky and head fuzzy, you turned to Kirishima, hoping to gather some of his manly excitement.

You'd been through this before, and had always come out as a victor, feeling one step closer to matching the boy by your side and the one across the table.

But this wasn't the same as before. Everything felt heavy and tense, like an elephant crossing a tightrope. Tipping on the peak of a rollercoaster, you'd finally made it here.

Except that the boy across from you was supposed to be the competitive, brute friend that you'd stubbornly challenged in the early hours of the night. Instead, there he stood with a watchful, caring eye. Hidden under a curtain of bark and bite, Bakugo had a heart with a space saved not just for his right-hand man, but maybe, an additional second-in-command...

He bickered with Kaminari who'd been dragged through every match leading up to now, stumbling through as an unfortunate sidekick to the explosion tied to him. You'd been dealt a better hand. Kirishima wasn't a bomb on the verge of near detonation with every missed shot. But that didn't change the reflection you saw beneath his disheveled, blonde mop of hair, his jittery hesitancy. Your heart was in similar antsy knots, and there wasn't even a wrist of tape binding you to the human explosion.

Sero cleared his throat, and through a haze of reddened eyes and fatigue from taking on the task of 'tournament moderator', he spoke to the crowd below.

"Uh, last minute change, but we want to get on with the night. Birthday girl hasn't danced enough apparently, so... for the final round, we're starting on redemption."

The crowd exploded into a hushed sea of muttering, the occasional cheer or outburst causing Sero to roll his eyes.

"Ideally this'll be a quick round, but knowing these two?" he said, motioning to Kirishima and Bakugo. "I dunno. May the best team win I guess," he finished, retreating into the shadows of the staircase.

Amidst the chatter of the crowd, you tugged Kirishima's wrist. "Um, it's been a while since I've played. But, what's redemption again?" you asked.

His eyes widened, and he whistled a low tone, running a hand through his hair. "Haha... well, it's a rule for when one team has only one cup left. You have to match the other team in points. If we only land one shot, Bakugo and Kaminari have to either match us or beat us, and then we keep going until one of us misses."

Your curious look quickly soured into something more fearful. This was your chance to be on their level, to prove your place, not just as the little house elf that tried to plan and solve everyone's problems, but as a competitive party animal, on par with the boys. But that was easier said than done. You'd only barely managed to squeak through every round since with a lucky shot here and there.

A single cup on either end. A broad-shouldered spike-head with a skittery partner to match. An equal start.

It was Bakugo that went first. Noticing the tension in his jaw and the confidence rolling back on his shoulders, you thought of Kirishima: who'd carried you through the same matches with the same sureness that a cheeky frat boy would hold over a flimsy fold-out table. The boys had always dominated these sorts of tournaments together, never against the other.

Amidst the whistling winds, this was a test of rock against dynamite.

Bakugo's shot landed. Kaminari missed. His partner grumbled and gave him a side-eye, a fair warning.