"You're scared."

The gnashing of his pearly whites was audible to the crowd, and the growing disfigurement of his face disclosed Bakugo’s practically open thoughts.

His palm lit up with small explosions, foretelling the experience Shoji would go through should he be caught by the ashen-haired boy.

'I’ll kill him.'

Inside his mind, the boy wasn’t having the safest thoughts either.

Fear, anger, and embarrassment all blended together in this moment, combining into one huge wave promising death to the recipient.

The boy’s mind was momentarily filled with all the ways he was going to torture the multi-armed individual when he got his hands on him.

How he would make his skin tender with small-scale explosions before hitting him with a huge, drawn-out one to truly extend the pain.

With such distractions, the boy almost got hit by a flying rock that was coming in so fast that Bakugo barely even had a fraction of a second to react.

'That's his plan.'

He’d figured it out before, get him riled up, and take him down swiftly before, yet a few words caused him to lose his cool what is more the advantage he had of knowing Shoji’s plan.

Bakugo planned on reflecting on his mistake when he finished, but right now he turned his attention back to the mist.

Using his full power, dodging became easier; predicting the rock's flight and its endpoint meant a shuffle or two was all that was needed.

Bakugo had just finished dodging another rock when it happened.

An eerily similar arm beefed up to the maximum with scars retelling tales of its lifespan, caught him off guard.

And that landed him a hard right to the stomach, sitting him back and knocking the air out of his lungs.

Laying on his back and looking at the sun, Bakugo was disoriented before he saw the familiar silver hair and teal blue mask above him.

He was desperately scrambling to move his numb arms in front of him as protection when the boy moved away.

Confused, he took the chance to reposition himself now, a few meters from the distance between the two boys, and put his hands back in operable action.

“What—”

“Weak. You're weak, and that is why you will lose.”

“DAMMIT!!”

Disregarding his injuries, the boy ran towards the unmoving Shoji before raising a palm in front of him.

BOOOOOOOM

'ME. YOU'RE LOOKING DOWN ON ME!!! I’LL SHOW YOU WHO’S REALLY WEAK.'

Belligerent rage was contained inside 1A’s delinquent.

Him… Weak? #1 on the entrance exam, second highest output in class 1A, the glorious Bakugo Katsuki, weak?

He was confused based on Shoji’s words, but they reminded him a little too much of a certain green-haired freak.

Though the latter may not say it, when compared to him, Bakugo felt similar thoughts form in his mind.

Thus, with the parallel, the boy threw most of what he had into that explosion.

Crack.

Just as he was thinking, a blur burst from the black smoke before an arm attached to its body found its way back into his fist.

Gasp.

The force of the punch lifted him into the air, but now, having experienced such treatment, the boy made a move Pros would call ingenious when thought of for years to come.

He placed a palm in the sky before exploding the nitroglycerin sweat that covered his hands.

The explosion propelled him down at supersonic speeds, and his plan was simple:

‘This should be enough for that bastard.’

Once within firing range with his palms connected at the wrist facing below himself at Shoji, he thought,

‘Die.’

If before he was merely speaking the words, then this time he was wishing them into existence.

Yet again, fate decided to play with Bakugo, as the charred body didn’t have a satisfactory thud onto the ground, but instead, Shoji emerged victorious, dropping a blackened piece of the stadium onto the floor.

“That intelligence you were praised for... where did it go? Your versatility gave you fame; what's that doing?”

Shoji calmly said this while walking out of the rubble.

Pointing at Bakugo’s annoyed form in front of him, Shoji spoke his last words to him:

“You are weak and will lose not because you lack firepower, nor because you lack capability, but because you are narrow-minded. You can’t think, and that's why you lost.”

‘I… lost?’

Confusion laced Bakugo’s subconscious as his eyes barely registered the multi-armed figure with its biceps cocked back merely inches from his face.

Death.

That's what the punch offered Bakugo, both socially and physically.

As his mind was processing the information simultaneously, a spark of defiance rose from his hands.

‘I don’t accept this.’

And with that thought, the camera that had been showing the arena was immediately covered by a searing black smokescreen, and neither Bakugo nor Shoji could be seen.

The trepidation was palpable as murmurs from the crowd were transmitted through the camera.

Suijin, who had turned this on lightly prior, was now sitting hunched up on his hospital bed.

With a pillow to support his back and his hands gripping the bars on the side, as he didn’t trust them not to try and roam upward, the boy appeared to be extremely interested.

And if Shoji were here, he’d notice the straining of Suijin's eyes, an expression that indicates that he’s extremely worried about something.

So with his breath hitched, the boy watched as the smoky fog started to blow away, attempting to reveal the scene covered below.

Suijin gasped as he made out the figure of the two battling through, and just when he felt like there would be a hole big enough to truly discern the scene, it ended.

With a quick credit scene, the video ended, leaving Suijin with the ultimate feeling of being blue right now and quickly sending the boy into a fit of rage.

He searched for his phone before realizing that his mother kindly took it with her as she went to talk with the doctor.

‘Crafty, trying to get me to talk with her first, using Shoji, knowing that I’d be interested.’

Suijin felt his mind moving in a familiar, paced fashion, gaining speed he had not used since the incident.

The familiar feeling of thousands of probabilities being tied and connected felt just as euphoric as usual, and Suijin, after simulating what he could do from here on out, ended up with one conclusion.

‘I’ll just ask.’

Sure, he could try and pretend to not be interested, or try and coax the answer out of her, but...

‘That’s just me running away.’

That would be him trying not to acknowledge the situation and disregarding everything for his embarrassment.

So after realizing that, he decided that confrontation was ultimately the solution.

‘Besides, I’m man enough to deal with a little embarrassment.’

At that moment, the proud Suijin chose not to recall how he had played a game of nonresponse with his mother or the dozens of other childish acts he’d performed throughout the past few days.