Red in Different Shades

31. Chain Reaction

The chain sliced through the air. Its metallic, rattling chines filling the room.

Niwa's eyes narrowed, her attention focused on keeping the link steady in motion, aiming straight for the target dummy. But with a quick snap, Midnight's whip lashed out, striking her chain mid-flight with a sharp crack. The force sent her weapon spiraling back, jarring her arm and tightening the ache creeping up her shoulder. She clenched her teeth, steadying her grip, and prepared to strike again.

"Careful now," Midnight called out with a gleam in her eye, stepping back with a graceful flick of her whip. "Getting frustrated and losing your control and precision, relying only on force, is what the pathetic resort to. You're not bulldozing it into submission."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Niwa muttered under her breath, adjusting her grip. 

She tightened her stance, reining in the impatience simmering just below the surface. Niwa swung again, keeping her wrist steady as she visualized the chain locking around the dummy's neck this time. But once again, Midnight's whip cut through the air with perfect timing, catching her chain and snapping it away from the target.

A faint laugh slipped out of Niwa as she huffed. "Alright, I get it. Technique first, drama second."

Midnight chuckled. "That's the spirit! Keep that focus." Her expression softened, almost proudly, as she gestured for Niwa to take another shot.

It took everything Niwa had to swing the chain again without her arms giving up on her. At last, she managed to dodge the crack of the whip, looping her chain around the dummy's torso in a satisfying coil.

"Yes!" she gasped, wiping her brow.

Training with Midnight was still in its early days, but Niwa was already slipping into a rhythm. 

Mornings before class were her time to throw weight around until her muscles burned. And afternoons were for sparring with Midnight, who'd been nothing short of relentless. 

With every day came a new layout of exercises and drills, each one mapped with brutal precision. Even the 'self-study' routines had left her drenched by the time she'd finish. It was tough, structured, and exactly what she'd craved. The week stretched ahead in a clear path of sparring bruises and sore muscles, and she couldn't help the thrill sparking under her skin. 

Midnight gave her a final nod, marking the end of the session, and Niwa felt herself grin.

Her muscles were already stiffening up tightly by the time she trudged up to the dorms. Every step up the staircase made her limbs feel a little more like jelly, and the plush couch in the common room might as well have been heaven itself. She dropped onto it with a relinquishing sigh, stretching out and closing her eyes. Just for a second, she thought. Or two. Maybe three.

Seconds blended into minutes, and before she knew it, she was out cold.

"That's great, Deku!" Uraraka's enthusiastic voice pierced through the remaining fog in Niwa's mind, dragging her awake. She blinked her eyes open to find the room now filled with her classmates, all deep in conversation.

"Congrats, Midoriya!" Iida's voice chimed in next, sounding proudly like some sort of benevolent prince. "I can't be idle, either."

Niwa groaned softly, sitting up and stretching her aching arm over her head, catching a few amused glances as she rubbed her eyes.

A cluster of boys crowded closer around Midoriya, all chattering at once.

"But man, you're really amazing, Midoriya!" Kaminari praised, his eyes practically sparkling.