Supernova

Chapter Two - Winning by Losing

The reason why I ended up at UA and the reason why I hate Bakugo fucking Katsuki, albeit loosely, are connected. I don't tend to hear much about any hero schools, especially those outside of America and Europe, because they are entirely irrelevant to me, but I have known about UA through Momo since we were kids. To her, it was the best school on her native soil, an aspiration and a dream, filled with colourful possibilities and opportunities for success. To me, it was a puke bucket full of late blooming losers, which would gain a single shining star the second Momo stepped foot onto the grounds and lose it the second she graduated. That, and a way for me to make some easy money once a year.

When Momo and I were ten, around the time that she became interested in attending, and around the same time that my own sister started pulling away from me and I was desperately seeking a surrogate, our parents began a tradition of watching the UA sports festival. It was brought up as a fun excuse to get together, but as it tends to when it involves a rich man with an ego issue, it quickly transformed into a competitive evening of betting. Each of us, including Momo and I, would put a little money down, and after the first leg of the competition, bet on the top three in each grade. The one who guessed closest, both with individuals and order, won the pot.

That was fine by me. I had started working at my father's hero training agency two years earlier, had a decent understanding of ability, and I loved to win. Momo was always terrible, often times choosing three candidates that didn't even reach the last round. Her parents were a little better, but not by much. They had no qualms about losing the money though. I'm sure they thought it worth it just to see if I would beat my dad, which I did, every single year. The first two years were a little shaky, off by a candidate or by order errors. After that, I plucked every single top three, in correct order, in every grade, every single year.

"Why are you so bad at this?" I teased Momo a couple years back. "How are you deciding?"

"I just go with my gut," she laughed back at me, nudging my shoulder. "What about you?"

"I pick them if they're like me," I told her, a proud grin coming over my face. "Or if they interest me."

Those were my only two criteria. How similar they were to me, in ability, demeanor, attitude, combat style, eyes, and how effective they were at holding my interest. The former was the single most important criteria in choosing, and the latter gave a little more clarification, in a similar, related way. Call it ego if you want, but it is what it is, and it has never failed me.

Until this year, when my picks were technically, but not actually, wrong. Momo was going to be in the festival, so she didn't play with us. My dad and I flew out, him from the compound in California where I grew up, and me from South Africa, where I had been doing a rather menial tour of rhino protection for my most recent boarding school, to spend the day with the Yaoyorozus, who had pre recorded the festival for all of us to watch.

Momo and I sat together the way we always did, me between her legs, back pressed into her stomach, watching the first leg of the competition. I had my picks in my mind by the time everyone was halfway through the race, so in addition to watching them, I was also watching Momo, who wasn't doing too poorly herself.

"What is that thing on you?" I asked, leaning towards their massive screen. "Is that a person?"

"Ugh, that's Mineta," she said, pulling me back into her. "He stuck to me the entire time."

"If I ever get the chance," I said as I shook my head. "He's dead."

"I appreciate that," she told me, leaning her chin on my shoulder. "Oh look, it's the minefield."

"Minefield?" I said excitedly. "That looks fun."

"It was actually hard for us," she said, nudging her head against mine.