RIKO POV
"WHICH OF THESE FOUR SENTENCES CONTAINS A MISTAKE?!"
Present Mic's voice blasted through the classroom like a sonic boom, vibrating the pens right off my desk. I winced, burying my face in my hands. It was the second period, English. For a world-famous mangaka whose works were being translated into thirty different languages, being forced to explain the difference between "their," "there," and "they're" felt like a slow form of psychological torture.
"EVERYBODY! HANDS UP! DON'T BE SHY!" Mic shouted, striking a pose that belonged on a disco floor, not a podium.
The class was silent. Even the overachievers were struggling to process the sheer volume of his enthusiasm this early in the morning.
"Uuuuuugggghhhhhhh," I groaned, my voice a low, gravelly vibration that harmonized perfectly with the hum of the air conditioner. I slumped so far down in my chair that I was practically sitting on my shoulder blades.
"Riko-chan," Izuku whispered from my right, his pencil hovering over his notebook where he was, no doubt, analysing Mic's vocal range. "Are you okay? You look... deflated. Did you stay up too late drawing again?"
"I'm more than deflated, Izu-kun," I hissed, not moving an inch. "I am a victim of the Japanese educational system's lack of aesthetic awareness. Look at where I'm sitting. Look at this... this tragedy."
Izuku blinked, looking around. "The back row? It's a good spot, isn't it? You're right between me and Yaoyorozu-san."
To my left, Momo Yaoyorozu tilted her head slightly. Her notes were a work of art, colour-coded, perfectly aligned, and probably written in three different languages just for the challenge.
"Is something wrong with the seating arrangement, Akabane-san?" Momo asked softly, her eyes flickering with genuine concern. "If you're having trouble seeing the board, I'm sure we could ask to move closer."
"Move closer?!" I gasped, finally sitting up with a look of mock-horror. "Momo-chan, you don't understand the fundamental laws of narrative structure! In the world of anime's, the protagonist, the hero, the lead, the person the camera follows…..always, always sits in the back row by the window."
I gestured dramatically toward the far left of the room. "Look over there. Look at Todoroki. He's got the 'God Seat.' The sun is hitting his half-and-half hair at a perfect forty-five-degree angle. He can look out at the cherry blossoms and contemplate his tragic past while the wind ruffles his bangs. He looks like he's about to have a three-episode flashback just by staring at a cloud!"
I then pointed to my own chest. "And look at me! I'm in the middle row of the back! I am in the 'Reliable Best Friend' zone! Or worse, the 'Support Character who gets killed in the second arc to motivate the lead' zone! I can't even look out the window without seeing through the back of Shoji's head!"
"I... I don't think that's how it works, Riko-chan," Izuku moped, a sweat-drop appearing on his temple. "We're just in alphabetical order, mostly..."
"Alphabetical order is just a cover for the cruel hand of destiny!" I whined, dropping my head onto the desk with a dull thud. "It's a sign Izuku-k-"
"Stop your damn mumbling, Fuse-box!" Bakugo's voice growled from the row in front of me. He didn't turn around, but I could see the vein in his neck throbbing. "Some of us are trying to listen."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Sparky!" I chirped, leaning forward to poke the back of his chair. "I forgot that the great Katsuki Bakugo needs to focus really hard to understand the word 'Apple.' Does the loud man's voice hurt your delicate ears? Do you need me to draw you a picture with crayons?"
"I WILL BLOW YOU THROUGH THAT WINDOW YOU WANT TO SIT BY SO BAD!"
"BAKUGO! AKABANE! QUIET DOWN!" Present Mic yelled, though he was smiling. "THAT'S NOT VERY 'PLUS ULTRA' OF YOU!"
I slumped back, letting out a theatrical sigh that lasted a full ten seconds. I was bored, I was tired, and the dull, phantom ache in my chest was starting to act up again. I played it off by rubbing my sternum and stretching, making a show of how "exhausted" I was from lack of sleep.
"Too much coffee," I muttered to Izuku when he shot me a worried look. "My heart's doing that weird flutter thing because I drank three energy drinks at 2:00 AM." Don't do drugs, kids. Stick to sugar.
Izuku nodded sympathetically, And whispered "You really should take better care of yourself, Riko-chan. You work so hard on your art, but U.A. is going to be demanding too."
If only you knew, Izu-kun, I thought, a small, cynical smile touching my lips.
"Fine," I whispered, picking up my pen and flipping to the back of my notebook. I started sketching a tiny, angry Chibi-Bakugo being chased by a giant, laughing Chibi-All Might.
CANTEEN
The bell for lunch didn't just signal a break; for me, it was a siren song calling me to the one place in U.A. that truly felt like heaven.
The cafeteria was a masterpiece of efficiency, but the real star was the man behind the counter. Lunch-Rush, the Cooking Hero, was a god among men. I stood in line, my tray held with the kind of reverence, I usually reserve for Mitsuki Bakugou.
"One white rice and spicy beef curry, please, Chef!" I chirped, giving him a crisp salute. "And may I just say, your food is the only thing keeping me sane through my theory classes."
Lunch-Rush gave me a thumbs-up so enthusiastic it practically glowed. "Coming right up, young lady! Eat well to fight well!"
I practically floated away from the counter, the steam from the curry hitting my nose like a five-star spa treatment. In my past life, I'd killed for such food.
I scanned the room for a seat. Izuku was already huddled with Iida, probably analysing the structural integrity of the tables. Bakugo was sitting with a red and yellow head, looking like he was trying to 3 sec away from exploding. Cause of which, I decided to head toward the far side of the hall where I could enjoy my food in peace, when I saw a group of pink, brown, and frog-like features waving me over.
"Riko-chan! Over here!" Mina Ashido called out, her pink skin practically glowing under the cafeteria lights.
I slid into the seat between Mina and Ochaco Uraraka. Tsuyu Asui sat across from us, calmly slurping her noodles.
"Oh, man," I sighed, taking my first bite of the curry. I leaned back, my eyes fluttering shut as the spices danced on my tongue. "This is it. This is the peak of human civilisation. If the villains want to destroy the world, they're going to have to go through me, to touch Lunch-Rush."
"You really like the food here, don't you, Riko-chan?" Uraraka giggled, poking at her mochi.
"Like it? Ochaco, I would marry this curry," I stated firmly. "I've lived on convenience store snacks and... uh... caffeine for months because of my 'hobbies.' This is life-changing."
"You mean your art?" Mina asked, leaning in. She knew I drew….I'd mentioned having a "part-time gig" as an illustrator to explain the dark circles and ink stains, under my eyes and fingers…but I hadn't breathed a word about being the person behind the nation's biggest manga hits. If they found out a fourteen-year-old in their class was the "Kira" responsible for the trauma in Attack on Titan, I'd never have a moment's peace again.
"Is it really that busy? You're always so tired!"
"The life of an artist is a cruel mistress, Mina," I said vaguely, shovelling more curry into my mouth.
"Where Deadlines carry the stick"
The conversation drifted through the usual first-day topics….how scary Aizawa was, the insanity of the Quirk assessment, and whether or not Hagakure was actually wearing her gym uniform. But then, Mina's eyes sparkled with a very specific, dangerous kind of mischief.
She leaned over the table, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. "So, Riko-chan... we were all talking earlier. And we noticed something. You and Bakugo... what's the deal there?"
I swallowed a mouthful of rice. "The deal? He's a walking detonator with a god complex. I'm the person who enjoys poking said detonator. Oh, plus he my rival"
"No, no," Mina grinned, her horns practically twitching. "We mean, you guys have been together since middle school, right? You yell at each other, you finish each other's insults, and you're the only one who can talk back to him without getting a fireball in the face. We were wondering... are you two a couple? Like, a secret 'rivals-to-lovers' thing?"
"…" blank, error….error….rror…r.
eh
A sudden, intense heat that had nothing to do with the curry surged up my neck and into my cheeks. My face felt like it was currently undergoing a kinetic recharge.
"A-A what?!" I stammered, my heart doing a backflip. "Me and Sparky? That's—that's impossible!...nuh-uh…cough…cough"
Damn wtf, my mind was crashing, I thought taking a gulp of water to hide my burning face.
"aww… that's a sign of love, you guys are fated together", mina said, her eyes twinkling.
PFFFFFFTTTTT!
A literal fountain of water erupted from my mouth. It would have been fine if the water had fallen somewhere else, but unfortunately.
That "somewhere" happened to be the back of the head of a very small, purple-(haired/ball?) boy who was walking past our table, eyeing the girls from lunch line.
"ACK! WHO?! WHAT?!" Mineta shrieked, spinning around, dripping wet. He wiped his face, blinking up at us with those weird ball-eyes.
"Oh, God, I'm so sorry!" I gasped, grabbing a napkin, my face still a bright, embarrassed red. "Mineta, right? My bad, I just-"
Mineta stood there for a second, the water dripping off his nose. Then, his expression shifted. Instead of being annoyed, his eyes glazed over with a look of pure, unadulterated creepiness. He let out a long, shuddering sigh that made the hair on my arms stand up.
"Ugh..." Mineta breathed, a blush creeping onto his cheeks, one that was infinitely more disgusting. "It's... it's fine. Actually... could you spit on me again? I like the mist..."
The table went dead silent.
Mina recoiled so hard she almost fell off her bench. Uraraka looked like she wanted to float herself away into the sun. Tsuyu just stared with a look of utter, deep-seated judgment.
"Ribbit," Tsu croaked. "That's disgusting."
A dark, dangerous shadow fell over my face, effectively cooling my embarrassment into a cold, murderous aura. The "devil of aldera" persona took over. I slowly stood up, my hand gripping my metal spoon so hard the handle began to groan and warp.
"Huhhhhh?" I growled, my voice dropping into a low, terrifying growl.
My palm, the one holding the spoon, began to glow with a blinding, flickering orange light. The kinetic energy hummed, making the air around the spoon distort with a visible, shimmering heat.
"You wanna die, ya little purple punk?" I hissed, leaning over him. "You think I'm some kind of fountain for your weird-ass fantasies? I will charge this spoon with enough energy to launch you into the next prefecture. You want more 'water'? I'll give you a tidal wave of pain bitch!"
Mineta's eyes bugged out of his head. The blush vanished, replaced by a paleness.
"I-I-I was just kidding! It was a joke! A-joke!"
"Run" I whispered, the spoon sparking with a sharp crack.
Mineta didn't need a second warning. He let out a high-pitched yelp and bolted across the cafeteria, tripping over his own short legs in his haste to get away from our table.
I took a deep breath, the glow in my hand fading as I sat back down and calmly picked up my curry as if nothing had happened. My face was still a bit warm, but the anger had mostly smothered the embarrassment. "Ugh….fukin creep"
I looked up to find the girls staring at me with wide eyes.
"What?" I asked, a grain of rice on my lip.
"Riko-chan..." Uraraka whispered. "That was... that was so Bakugo."
"Right?!" Mina added, pointing a finger at me, her grin returning tenfold. "The 'ya wanna die' line? The scary face? The glowing hands? You guys aren't just a couple, you're practically the same person! You even have the same scowl as him!"
"I am nothing like him!" I protested, my face heating up all over again. I looked away, crossing my arms defensively.
"Even the way you deny it is similar," Tsuyu noted, tilting her head. "You both have a very explosive way of communicating. It's almost like you've spent your whole lives perfecting the art of shouting at each other."
I slumped in my seat, burying my face in my hands. "I'm doomed. This is the worst plot twist of my life."
"Don't worry, Riko-chan!" Mina laughed, patting me on the back. "If you guys ever do get married, I wonder if your kids be like you guys….loud!"
"There will be no children!" I shouted, attracting the attention of half the cafeteria, including Bakugo, who shot me a confused, annoyed glare from three tables away.
"SHUT UP, FUSE-BOX! I CAN HEAR YOU FROM HERE!" he yelled.
"YOU SHUT UP, SPARK-PLUG! MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS!" I roared back instinctively, my face practically steaming.
The girls all shared a look and burst into fits of giggles. I just groaned and shoveled a massive, final spoonful of curry into my mouth.
Fuck.
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Author Kitchen
.....It's either lunch rush or Mitsuki.
or
change my mind.