𝗖𝗨𝗣𝗜𝗗 ᝰ bnha

22 | the winner takes it all

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
THE WINNER TAKES IT ALL

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

"I need... a moment."

The words slice clean through the chaos as you raise both hands, backing away like a startled animal cornered in a spotlight. Too many eyes. Too much pressure. You feel like a single thread holding a thousand-pound weight.

Instinctively, you scanned the crowd for an escape route—spotting Riri immediately.

There they were, hunched forward like a spy with a mission, clutching a pair of binoculars up on the stands. You weren't sure if they were trying to get your attention or they're literally just not all there in the head. Either way, you already know they're enjoying the show. Or rather, enjoy watching you struggle here.

Multiple spectators in the same row had already inched several seats away, leaving a clear perimeter around Riri like they were a ticking bomb. Honestly, as they freaking should. Those citizens are doing a good job of keeping a safe distance from that wizard.

When your eyes meet, Riri perked up immediately and started waving the same big dumb sign from earlier. You groan, facepalming as a blush starts crawling up your neck, dying a little inside.

Actually, that's an understatement. You want nothing more than to dig a hole on the ground and bury yourself alive.

Anyway, they were mouthing something now—aggressively—paired with frantic hand gestures that looked like a mix of interpretive dance and a magic spell being cast. It's insane. Unreadable. Knowing them, you're not even sure you want to know.

Like girl, please, for the love of God, you are in a public server.

You make a silent note to pretend you don't know them until the Sports Festival is over. Maybe even a week after.

Before you can even attempt to emotionally detach yourself from the disaster zone in the stands, Katsuki cuts through the thick haze of embarrassment like a grenade going off.

"Oi, where are you lookin' at?! Hurry the fuck up!" he snaps, his voice raw and irritated. "You've already kept us waitin' long enough! I know you're gonna be on my team anyway!"

You sigh so hard it deflates half your soul. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you shoot him a very deadpan look. Can someone just unplug the stadium real quick?

"Bro... you're literally giving me every reason not to team up with you."

"The hell?! Just c'mere, already!"

Before you can repeat yourself, Katsuki strides over and snatches your hand like he's claiming a prize, tugging you toward him with reckless force.

"Ow?! Watch it—!" you hiss, stumbling into his chest with a hard tug.

In a split second, Shoto steps in-quiet as snowfall. His hand closes around your other wrist, not harsh, but firm. His heterochromatic eyes lock onto Katsuki's, and suddenly it feels like the temperature drops by ten degrees.

"Bakugou, let go," he says coolly, voice low and edged. "She hasn't decided."

The air between them crackles, as if their sheer tension might ignite or freeze over.

Meanwhile, Izuku hovers behind you, quite hesitantly. His fingers timidly graze your shoulder cutting in with that meek voice of his in hopes of convincing you.

Fuck, okay. There's less than ten minutes left to form teams so you'll have to critically think efficiently. Yep, you go girl. No pressure or anything!

Izuku.