MANIA - Katsuki Bakugou

blood ━

chapter 7

A sharp pain emanated from Shimamura's chest. From her leg. From her cheek and arms. Everything hurts... Everything streamed red rivers of blood from wherever she had been hit. She groaned, trying to sit up as best as possible.

She wrapped her hand over her midriff, putting pressure on a bad cut she had been dealt from Fujimaki. Her hand immediately coated itself in her own blood. Shimamura narrowed her eyes at her opponent who stood across the battlefield, smiling down at the Support Course student.

Fujimaki wasn't unscathed, however. Her red hair was now a mess and she had lost a gold hooped earring at some point in their match. A bruise had already started forming on Fujimaki's cheek and she seemed to hold her hand against the right side of her rib cage, protecting a sensitive area Shimamura had already damaged. Shimamura was bleeding, but Fujimaki was just as hurt.

I still have a chance!

Shimamura shakily stood up with her good foot, still applying pressure to her wound. Blood dripped behind her as she slumped into a walk towards her opponent. This wasn't over. Fujimaki raised an eyebrow at her.

Shimamura's mind was blank, filled with darkness. Whatever happened in the match... it had erased itself in her memory. She didn't remember hitting Fujimaki. She couldn't remember feeling any sort of pain when Fujimaki sliced her in the gut. Damn her mind. But that didn't matter...

"The winner of this round is... HANA FUJIMAKI!"

Shimamura halted abruptly. Fujimaki's cocky smirk returned to her face. She winked at the bleeding Shimamura and turned to face the confused crowd, waving her hands. That got them going pretty quickly. They cheered for Fujimaki, confirming her win.

Win?... What win? Shimamura was still standing. She was still ready to—

Shimamura dropped her hand from her red stomach. The back of her hand made contact with the hard, cement ground. She was sitting on the ground, kneeling with her bad leg out to the side. She glanced down with clouded blue irises, seeing the white painted line an inch or two in front of her. Shimamura was out of bounds.

When... when did she cross the border of the arena?

Shimamura tried to stand up again but found herself unable to. The puncture wound in her leg simply wouldn't let her. Neither would that slash in her stomach. Blood started to pool around her but her vision was as clear as day. She could see Fujimaki being congratulated by Midnight. No one came to congratulate Shimamura.

She lost.

Present Mic's voice rang over the loudspeakers again, but Shimamura couldn't hear. Even the cheering of the crowd had been drowned out by Shimamura's own thoughts.

I lost. How did I lose? I had a chance—Did I fall? Did she push me? Where did I go wrong?

Her dim eyes stared hopelessly at the ground. Tears formed in the corner of her eye but she hadn't a clue why they were there. She couldn't feel the pain anymore. She wasn't sad. She was just... confused. Broken. Hurt. Betrayed by her own flesh and bones.

Where did I go wrong...? Where the hell... I'm... What is she going to say? She'll hate me. I didn't... It was never my intention to lose! Fujimaki was too strong. No, no excuses. Fujimaki wasn't strong. She was my perfect counter.

My kicks couldn't hit her. Her splinters were just so precise and could pierce my leg before I made contact. Maybe this was her fault. She didn't want me to go to the Entrance Exam... all this talk of her wanting me to be a hero, is it a lie?

Is everything a lie? I don't belong with them. I don't belong where Miyata and Uchiha are. I belong where there is weakness. What if I broke? What if I shattered her? They wouldn't accept me.

What if I won? They'd throw me out. They'd say I'm dangerous. They'd treat me like a villain. Right? Where was I to win in any situation presented to me? I shouldn't be here.

Mother would be so disappointed.

Shimamura's shoulders quaked as the tears finally fell from her eyes and landed with gentle splashes within her bloody basin. The clear, innocent tears turned red with her blood. The water vanished into the murky crimson.

"Shimamura."

A hand suddenly clasped around Shimamura's wrist. The hand yanked on Shimamura's to bend her fingers away from her face. Unconsciously, Shimamura's hands drifted up to her temples and stopped centimeters away from touching skin. Shimamura's head drifted upwards to see who the hands connected to.

A light blue coat. Blonde hair strung up into a neat bun. Golden eyes. Pale skin. A disgusted frown...

It was Arima.

"Get up."

Her aunt yanked on her wrist again, forcing her to stand up. Shimamura obliged, lowering her hands away from her face. She wobbled on her bad leg but limped away anyway. Arima's grip tightened around Shimamura's wrist as she led her off of the arena and towards the exit underneath the stands.

Everything was blurry to Shimamura except for her Aunt's presence.

"I-I'm sorry—"

"Hush, Shimamura."

"I would've kept fighting. I-I could've—"

Arima yanked her into the darkness of the exit's overhang and finally faced Shimamura. She leaned down, narrowing her eyes at the child.

"They gave the match to Fujimaki long before you were thrown out of bounds. Or have you not noticed you are bleeding out?"

Shimamura looked down at the bloody gash in her stomach. It didn't hurt anymore. Nothing did except for her leg—ironically the first wound she received in the round. Arima rolled her eyes at her niece's distracted nature at the moment.

"Let's get you to Recovery Girl before you actually do." Arima grasped onto Shimamura's wrist again and pulled her away down the hallway.

Nothing hurt except for her leg... and now her wrist.

"That was pretty messed up. Don't you think, Bakugou?"

A red haired Kirishima nudged his classmate's side with his elbow. The blond leaned forward, ignoring Kirishima's attempt at conversation. His eyes narrow, watching the two walk off the arena—the teacher and the bloody student.

She was the one ran into him in the hallway. Tikki Shimamura, huh?

The ends of her white hair were now drenched in red from soaking in her own blood she sat there for so long. She almost started to look like her opponent with the crimson red hair.

Bakugou clicked his tongue. "They're both useless."

Kirishima frowned. "Hey, man! They made it this far too! They're not useless if they could do that and not even be from the Hero Course!"

Bakugou rolled his eyes.

That girl... How pathetic. She's willing to use her quirk walking down the hallway and not use it during a match? Either she's damn cocky or trying to prove a point. Whatever it is... she's goddamn useless.

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Ello! Thanks for reading this far :)

If you noticed the graphic change from the usual title card with the chapter name to something new... then you spotted my art! (If you didn't see it, scroll back up to the top to check it out)

The art is made by meeee and (If you couldn't tell) pictures Shimamura and Fujimaki's Sports Festival Match.

Please do not repost, trace, or reproduce elsewhere. Thank you!