Chapter 14 - The First One

A clock and scoreboard were projected across the top of the dome. Small drones dotted the air in order to televise the event. You positioned yourself on the west side of the group of students in order to get to the Conflagration Zone as fast as possible. Your hair was back in a tight braid to keep it off your face and hopefully not get ruined by any fire. The projection changed to a countdown.

10...you took a deep breath

9...you set your feet so you could burst off at a run

8...7...6...you said a little prayer

5...4...one more deep breath

3...2...you focused your gaze on your destination

1.

"GO!" Snipe's voice boomed around the dome as you sprinted toward the visible fire. It was the farthest from the entrance, so if you spotted a flag before reaching it, you'd grab it, but your focus was on the flames.

You lit your own fingers as you pushed your way through the initial mass of bodies. Students scattered across the arena. Out of your periphery you could just see Bakugou flying, propelled by his explosions, toward the Ruins Zone. A streak of bright white flashed by your left side. Ice. Todoroki must have been heading to the Landslide Zone.

Inside the Conflagration Zone you pulled your shirt up to cover your nose and mouth, wishing you could have worn your costume instead of standard PE clothes. Even being able to control smoke, you couldn't absorb the vast amounts that were pouring out of every building. It didn't seem like anyone had followed you to this area.

Good. More for me.

You began scanning the buildings to either side of the main entrance. You had hoped the neon yellow flags would be easier to spot, but with so many bright flames dancing in the windows and down every alleyway you realized you'd have to do more than scan. You decided to head down the nearest street toward the center of the zone.

From the corner of your eye you saw two figures dart through the zone entrance door. One had silver hair and the other spiky red. Dammit Kiri, I can't worry about you in here! You shoved your worries aside. If he came in here, it's because he believes he can manage. I just have to trust that he knows what he's doing.

You couldn't see anything but fire and smoke from the ground. Maybe you could get up high and spot something from the air? But there were no solid footholds and running into a burning building didn't seem like the best option this early into the game. You spied a fire escape (ironic I know) hanging from the side of a nearby apartment block. You threw your tendrils, latching on to the metal surface. The ropes were incredibly thick, black and strong. This was some Grade A smoke. You knew all the metal and brick would be hot to the touch, so only held onto your ropes and sent a cushion of smoke below your feet allowing you to scale the building without injury. Once positioned atop the metal structure you released the tendrils but kept the small cushion.

Since smoke and heat rise, it was even hotter and more difficult to see clearly from above. But you'd had years of practice seeing through a smokescreen. There! From your vantage point you could just glimpse a small rectangle of yellow fabric flapping in a seventh story window four buildings away. It appeared to be an office block with tall windows, many of which had been blown out from all the heat and pressure.

You lowered yourself back to the ground, going down the same way you had gone up. Running toward the building where you had seen the flag, you scanned the other buildings, windows, alleys and sewer grates to see if there was an easier option. Of course not.

The office block looked even more daunting from the ground. You counted up seven stories and cursed under your breath. There were no fire escapes, no balconies. How were you supposed to get all the way up there?

A voice boomed all around you, "The Mountain Zone has been cleared of flags. Please proceed to another zone." So, some people had already found flags. And some people hadn't. And some of those people might come here next.

Just what I need, more competition while I try to convince myself to run into a crumbling, burning building with unknown stability. Ugh!

You huffed to yourself but stood resolute in your decision. You hopped up and down a few times like a boxer, pumping yourself up before you made, what you knew was a stupid decision. You ran in.

The ceiling was barely holding together. Soot covered every inch of the ground, shining bits of broken glass sparkling in the flickering light. You glanced around, looking for - there it was - the staircase. Pulling the door to the stairway open with a tendril a plume of thick dark smoke engulfed your face. You pulled in as much as you could, but still inadvertently swallowed a mouthful and coughed violently into your shirt. Looking up the stairs you saw that many were missing. Instinctively you released your ropes and thrust them toward the most stable looking piece of banister. Tugging twice you decided it would hold and pulled yourself up. You repeated this over and over until you counted seven flights of stairs.

Rather than touching the red-hot door handle you kicked at the stairwell door to the seventh floor. You were tired and disoriented from the climb. All the smoke was starting to take a toll not only on your strength but on your ability to breathe as well.

The sickening feeling of déjà vu swept over you, and for just a moment your blood ran cold and your pulse thundered in your temples. The crackle of flames, the headiness of too much smoke, the claustrophobic sensation of your world on fire. You doubled over in a coughing fit and the feeling ebbed away, bringing you back to the stairwell.

Who gives a girl smoke powers but doesn't make her immune to smoke!? There's no time for this. I need to find the flag.

You forced your head to lift to glance around the space. It had certainly been an office.

Why did they furnish a zone they would set on fire?

Charred cubicles dotted the floor in neat rows as fluorescent light panels dangled from the barely intact ceiling. You scanned the windows. You had seen the flag through the windows.

Stepping toward the wall of glass to your left you saw a blackened day calendar on a desk. A row of filing cabinets were pushed beside a half-melted printer. Roller chairs were haphazardly scattered around the floor, most glued to the vinyl tiles by their plastic casters.

And then you saw it. Ten cubicles away a small yellow flag fluttered next to a blown-out window. It was supported only by a thin metal rod shoved into a terracotta pot, which you assumed had long ago contained a desk fern. You walked carefully toward the bright piece of fabric, aware of all the debris and unstable surfaces around you.

Almost there...got it!

You held the flag in your hand and let out a deep breath - well, as deep as you could afford.

BOOM!!

Your head snapped to look out the broken window. A sudden swell of fire curled up the side of the building you were standing in.

And that's my cue to go.

Throwing caution to the wind you leapt over charred, fallen chairs and desk lamps, fax machines and waste baskets. The stairwell door was still open from your kick, but as you looked down all you could see was a fresh set of hungry flames. Your eyes widened. How would you get back down? It was far too high to jump.

You ran back toward the windows, scanning the buildings on either side and across the street. No good, nothing to hold on to. Beginning to panic - Why the fuck did I come to the fire zone anyway?! There's a reason no one else is fucking here! - you ran to the windows on the other side of the floor. Staring out you could just make out a long-ago roasted rooftop garden space with metal railings across the street. It was two floors lower than your current position. That'll have to do.

"The Downpour Zone has been cleared of flags. Please proceed to another zone." You barely registered the announcement. Taking a moment to steady yourself you pulled in fresh smoke. Your entire body was turning black. You were holding in more smoke than you'd ever held in your entire life, but at this point it wasn't about the Sports Festival, it was about getting out alive.

Needing your hands, you ripped the flag from its post and shoved the fabric into your mouth, crunching it between your molars. It tasted like ash. You threw out your tendrils as long as you could, willing them to wrap around the rooftop railing. You felt the slight tug as they met their mark before closing your eyes in a silent prayer. Another blast boomed from the floor below. The fire was growing. Preemptively sending a cushion to the soles of your feet you took one last determined breath and jumped.

The distance was wide and the fall felt like it took an eternity. The ropes lost their tautness the farther you fell, and you could sense that this would be a painful stop. A moment later your body flattened against the wall. The brick was burning hot and you groaned through your gritted teeth, still holding the flag. Tearing your stinging torso from the surface you kicked your legs up to face the wall. You urged your arms to pull and your legs to walk, even though you struggled to breathe.

"The Landslide Zone has been cleared of flags. Please proceed to another zone." Another zone was cleared. Were people coming? You couldn't see anything but smoke and flame and crumbling buildings. Finally managing to pull yourself over the railing - and burning your hand in the process - you searched for a way down. You kicked in the nearest door.

Thank god. Stairs. They seemed to be fairly intact, but you took them slowly nonetheless. Only one crumbled out from beneath you, forcing you to scream out. You almost dropped the flag through the hole it made before swiping it between your now burnt fingers.

Making it to the ground floor you sprinted out of the building and headed toward the exit. Several hazy bodies drifted near the doorway to the zone, clearly the students who hadn't been successful in their first simulation conditions. Without bothering to check who had entered you ran as fast as you could through the doorway and toward fresh air.

"Oh my God UA," you coughed and wheezed as you stood outside the Conflagration Zone. Your skin was still black, which likely wouldn't dissipate for a few minutes. Putting your hands on your knees to catch your breath you scanned the Central Plaza.

Why were there so many people standing around the Plaza? Were they done? No. They were waiting to ambush students who had already captured a flag. Fuck.

A girl with white blonde hair came charging toward you. Even in your winded state you side stepped her easily, only to be grabbed from behind by a boy with shaggy black hair. You elbowed him in the ribs, knocking him off your back.

These must be the kids from general studies or the support classes. They didn't think they could handle the hero simulations so they're just scavenging. Goddamn vultures.

You ran toward the exit dodging one student, and you're pretty sure, breaking the nose of another with the heel of your hand. You rounded the central fountain.

Almost there. Just have to get up the stairs.

BAM! A tall, muscular boy plowed into your side, knocking you down. You recovered quickly, but... You saw it in his hand, that small yellow rectangle. A disgustingly wide, cocky smile spread across his acne covered face. He headed up the stairs.

"GIVE IT BACK!" you screamed as you shot your smoke toward the unknowing boy, lassoing it around his ankles. You yanked in time to your frustrated yell. "I DIDN'T ESCAPE FROM A BURNING BUILDING JUST TO HAVE YOU STEAL MY PRIZE!"

The boy went down hard, his chin hitting one of the stairs on the way. He released the flag as he brought his trembling hands to his bloodstained face. He must have bitten his tongue when he smacked is chin. You released his ankles and used the same tendril to pick up the fallen yellow fabric, pulling it to you.

It didn't feel very hero-like to just walk away from a crying, bleeding classmate. You placed the flag into your sports bra, a place, you hoped, he would never try to reach and then knelt to the ground.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," you said, your rage subsiding. You offered a hand to the fallen boy, who was looking at you warily. He didn't take it, and instead pushed himself farther away, ultimately clambering to his feet and running away from the stairs.

I tried.

At last you headed up the final stairway. Cementoss sensei, the professional hero who could manipulate concrete and taught literature, waited at the exit of USJ in front of a series of six boxes, one for each of the zones.

CEMENTOSS - QUIRK: CEMENT. HE CAN MANIPULATE CEMENT-BASED MATERIAL SIMPLY BY BEING IN CONTACT WITH THE SURFACE. IT DOES NOT GIVE HIM THE ABILITY TO CREATE NEW CEMENT, ONLY TO RESHAPE EXISTING CEMENT. BECAUSE OF THE NATURE OF THIS QUIRK, HE HAS A LARGE COMBAT ADVANTAGE IN URBAN AREAS WHERE CONCRETE IS ABUNDANT.

You walked up confidently, reached your hand down your shirt - which lead to a troubled look from Cementoss - and extracted the flag. With a satisfied exhale you dropped it into the Conflagration Zone box. It was the only one.

"12:47 Miss [l/n]." You looked up at the leader board projected on the dome. 28th. You investigated the other five boxes. As had been announced, the Landslide, Mountain, and Downpour zone boxes were filled with around eight flags each. You wondered if all the zones had the same number of flags. Cementoss congratulated you and then instructed you to go sit on your bus.

***

You pulled yourself onto the 2-A bus. Your breathing was still ragged, but the color of the skin on your face and neck had started to return to normal. You let out a dusty cough as you hit the landing.

"[Y/N]! YOU MADE IT!" Izuku jumped up in order to escort you to a seat, clearly seeing the pain and exhaustion on your face. "Which zone did you go to?"

"Can you not tell?" you wheezed out, dramatically running your hand down the length of your body to show the multitude of scorches and soot stains on your skin and uniform. Your once clean braid was pulled apart near the nape of your neck and several hairs curled on your crown, clearly singed off at some point.

"And now you even look like an ashtray," a gruff voice called out from over your left shoulder. You looked over at Bakugou who had decided to lay across four seats in the center of the bus, his hands behind his head, as if he didn't just fight for a flag. "What took you so damn long? You're making me look bad as your partner."

"A flaming inferno nearly engulfed me alive. But I got out. I'm fine. Just a cough and a few minor burns on my hands. Thanks for asking," you coated your words with sarcasm.

"On your hands?" A calmer voice. Todoroki stood from the back of the bus where you had sat on the way in and came to rest beside you. He pulled your hands to him, turning them over to inspect the level of burn.

"It's fine, really. Just stings a little," you lied. They hurt like a bitch.

"Don't be foolish." He rolled up his right sleeve and draped your injured fingers over his arm. Initiating his icy side you felt a sudden shock of pain and then a rush of relief on the raw skin.

"Thank you Shouto," you whispered. He smiled gently, still holding his arm out.

"SHOUTO?! YOU'RE ON A FIRST NAME BASIS NOW WITH ICYHOT?!" Bakugou sat up from his relaxed position, looking more annoyed than you felt a first name warranted. You were too exhausted, too restless, too worried about your other classmates to deal with his shitty attitude right then.

"Why wouldn't I be?! We're friends!" you snapped back, your hands still resting on Todoroki's arm. Bakugou looked like he wanted to start a fight, small sparks dotting his palms. "WHAT?! WOULD YOU HAVE BEEN ABLE TO HELP ME WITH MY BURNS YOU AGGRESSIVE HEDGEHOG? I DON'T THINK AN EXPLOSION TO MY ALREADY INJURED HANDS WOULD HAVE HELPED. SO, SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP!"

All eyes were on you. While your other classmates knew you and Bakugou had some kind of understanding where you could tease each other, they'd never seen you actually yell at him.

You pulled away from Todoroki, not wanting to be in contact with anyone right now and stomped to the back of the bus. You tried to ignore the fresh sting of the burns. Bakugou's eyes were wide as he watched you walk, no longer filled with rage, they shone of questioning or maybe even shame.

"[y/n] I..." You shot the ash blond a cold glare before facing out the window. You didn't care about Bakugou's petty feud with Todoroki right now. Kirishima still wasn't on the bus. What if he couldn't find a flag? What if he inhaled too much smoke? What if you should have teamed up?

You held your breath as the door to the bus opened but released a defeated exhale when Kaminari was ushered onto the bus, led by Jirou. The sparky boy had clearly overused his quirk and short-circuited his brain. He wore a laughably vacant expression on his face and held up both his thumbs as if trying to indicate he was 'A-okay', even though he most certainly was not. He would be like that for the next hour, begging the question if he would be useful at all for the next event.

You watched more of your classmates stagger onto the bus, some covered in mud, others with their hair matted down to their foreheads with salt water, still others painted in cuts and scrapes, but none covered in ash.

"What's it like in there?" You heard Izuku ask Ojiro as he stepped onto the bus.

"Only the Conflagration zone is left. I think I brought the last flag in from the Ruins." The boy took a seat and then proceeded to pick bits of dirt and debris from the tuft of his tail.

Only the Conflagration zone...

Three more minutes passed. Doing a quick count, you noticed there were 19 people on the bus. Everyone was back. Everyone except Kirishima. You were glad you had scared your classmates away from you earlier. You couldn't handle an audience. You refused to make eye contact with anyone, sure they would sense your fear and you wouldn't be able to hold in the tears that begged to fall. Another minute passed. Then another, your breathing becoming ragged as the panic rose in your chest.

"Hey [y/n]. You okay?" a friendly voice asked as they sat down next to you. Your head snapped up.

"Oh my God! Kiri!" You practically jumped into his lap. You threw your arms around his neck and choked back a sob, burying your face into his shoulder. "I was so worried! I saw you come into the zone when I just started. You must have been in there for ages!" You pulled away quickly, hating yourself for not checking if he was injured before grabbing onto him. "Are you hurt?"

Soot covered his uniform and his spiky red hair seemed to be flatter than usual, likely from tapping out a flame, but he looked okay.

"I'm fine [y/n]. I got my flag after a lot of hunting, but then I saw someone from general studies trapped under an I-beam. I spent some time getting them free. Then a girl looked like she'd fallen unconscious. Maybe from the smoke, maybe from getting hit in the head, I don't know, but I pulled her out which took some more time." He pressed his forehead to yours, the way he had on the night he told you he'd always be your friend. It left a fresh smudge of dark ash on your skin. You chuckled through the few tears you hadn't been able to contain, before wiping your eyes and taking a very unladylike deep sniff to clear the draining snot from your nose.

"Of course you did. Because you're a hero." You pulled away and shifted your body so you could rest your head on his shoulder, as you had so many times before and took a deep breath. It felt like the first one you'd taken all day.