Chapter Eighteen

[Y/N] watched Iida being used as a test subject for the inventions that the Support student Hatsume made. She changed the fight into a commercial, equipped with her own mini microphone that reverbed each function of her gadgets. It went on for the rest of the starting minutes, no signs of the common shout of excitement or surprise from the onlookers. Only bafflement—even Present Mic was puzzled. Beside him Eraserhead sighed tiredly, not caring if their shared microphone picked up his sound.

Monoma would've enjoyed this—if only he kept himself in his seat. After Shiozaki's win [Y/N] and the rest watched Monoma literally climbed the wall, feet hanging a few inches from the surface while he cackled over Class A. "Guess he was right; it really did end in two seconds! Hey, aren't you supposed to be better than us? Why did that idiot of yours lose so soon? And being a spark plug is really his power? Seeing the future seems more fitting seeing how he can predict so well!"

Chop! Kendo held the blond with one hand at the back of his shirt as he collapsed. She popped her head over with an apologetic smile. "Don't mind him."

[Y/N] and some others huffed in amusement while the rest shook their heads in disappointment. She perked up when Kendo called her, bringing Monoma's unconscious body to the available seat on her left. "Take care of him for a moment."

"Why?" [Y/N] whined. The habitual giddiness and tingles were currently absent; she found the fighting tournaments more thrilling than the banter and teasing with Monoma. And now the class representative wanted to babysit him at the moment before her turn to be on the arena.

"I'll be going to wait after Iida's fight." Monoma's head leaned a little against her shoulder, his eyes not showing a single pupil. How hard did Kendo hit him this time?!

"He'll be fine." Kendo assured, sitting back on her place. "He'll come back after...whatever this is." Both looked at the arena, Hatsume was still advertising while Iida is trying to get near her. "Besides—" A foxy grin quipped on her face. "He'd be pleased waking up next to you."

...

Kendo smiled wider. "Your face is red."

"It's hot." [Y/N] snapped her lie. Kendo only hummed in return with a slow nod but mercifully turned back to the arena before [Y/N] could embarrass herself further. She felt his hair tickle the side of her neck, somewhere close to her jawline. [Y/N] went still as she recorded the scene below, never commented or utter a reaction that documented her filming like before, resisting the urge to move Monoma to lean him back out of spite. His breathing was even, mouth parted just enough to look peaceful

And more handsome. [Y/N] sucked a breath. Dear God help me...

Hatsume's laughter spiraled when she suddenly flew with the use of her boots. She continued her enthusiastic commentary while [Y/N] tried to focus on the scene, but the weight on the shoulder shifted, this time heavier. Followed by a faint, groggy inhale.

"...Kendo, your violence is a stain on Class B's dignity..." His murmur came out hoarse and barely above a whisper. But [Y/N] heard it. She glanced down to find Monoma had his eyes closed. For a moment none of them moved, then his lashes fluttered open for one pale blue eye to peek up at her. A second it was unfocused before sharpening with recognition.

"Ah," His voice gaining its usual theatric tilt. "By a degree she's considerate to rest me with someone I can put up with."

[Y/N] squinted for a fraction. Monoma made no move to lift his head. Heat crept up on her cheeks. "Sit properly idiot."

"No." He closed his eyes again after the reply. He added an exaggerated sigh. "Doctor's orders. Minimal movements only after receiving cranial trauma."

I wish you stayed out cold longer... Monoma's sniggers and judgements about the brawl collided with her hearing the roars of the audience. She later engaged with his commentary; the boy did make some valid points where she either agreed or argue as they assessed the showcase.

"I have to admit—Hatsume using this opportunity to catch interest from Hero Support Equipment Companies is smart." Monoma muttered, shifting slightly just enough for his head to be settled more comfortably on her shoulder. [Y/N] sat still, clasped hands tighter than ever, the want to record Iida's fight is long gone. Phone tucked in her pocket. She held her breath for a second until Monoma found the acceptable spot, later crossing his arms with a sigh. "Shameless too."

"Just say you're enjoy Iida suffering." Monoma chuckled, his voice rumbling where [Y/N] could almost feel it. She kept her eyes down to the arena while he glanced at her side view. Not a single strand of hair in the face and the pink never once left her, Monoma only noticed now how the color went up to the tip of her ears. He'd gotten used to seeing her with jewelry [Y/N] was almost incomplete without it. The small lump on her through bobbed for a moment. There was a taut drawn across the line of her lip, lashes well taken care of like the rest of her features.

Monoma was aware [Y/N] was pretty—with or without cosmetics. Yet seeing how natural sunlight danced around with her stubborn warmth, highlighting the soft curve of her cheek and the slope of her nose, the way lashes caught under the shine. All of it combined into something more than attractive. It was...impossible to ignore. Monoma felt his throat tightened like before. He didn't know why.

...

What are you doing to me? Why do I feel...like this? Monoma spoke up again. "You're tense."

[Y/N] nearly flinched. Of course, Monoma saw it. She can't say it was because of him—it would probably boost his ego more and further be a bother. [Y/N] excused herself with a half-lie. "I'm thinking about my fight."

"Yaoyorozu, yes?" [Y/N] replied with a hum and a slight nod. The interest transformed in an instant as Monoma raised a brow. With a huff he closed his eyes, already know what to do to ease his friend. "Perhaps you need assistance from the greatest. I'm happy to help a fellow classmate of mine."

Her groan made Monama stifled a chuckle, he could sense the girl's side glare. "Don't you want to hear my insight [Y/N]?"

"She has a good Quirk." [Y/N] started. "She can create things, perhaps almost every object you can think of. And after seeing how she done in the Obstacle Race, the larger the object the—"

"The slower the buildup." Monoma finished. "Like the cannon." He paused, though he didn't move from where he rested against her. He seemed more settled. "When your fight starts, she'll prepare smaller items. Tools, weapons, restraints—anything she can create under timed pressure."

"Well said." said [Y/N] before going quiet again. "I'll end the match quick."

The statement made Monoma awake, finally lifting his head from [Y/N]'s shoulder to properly stare at her. [Y/N] then massaged the top part that went numb with her other hand as Monoma questioned her. "Oh? Quite a bold claim. How do you suppose the victory will be yours?"

[Y/N] can't resist copying the same smug look Monoma had. She turned to face him. "They haven't seen yet what my actual Quirk can do."

For a moment neither of them spoke. Monoma held her gaze, sharper now—his curiosity piqued. There was no trace of her earlier fluster too. No hesitation at what she'd said. Just pure, steady, confidence. [Y/N] didn't look away either, instead she lifted her chin slightly. The same smugness mirroring back at Monoma. He studied [Y/N], trying to look for doubts or bluffs if she was jesting him.

A beat passed, then suddenly Monoma laughed. Not his common, short, mocking scoff. A real chortle accompanied with something rich. It spilled out without hinder, shoulders and head shaking. "Well—" He managed between. "That's unexpected! Confidence and secrecy. What else do you have ready [Y/N]?"

"I already revealed it you!" The girl countered, laughing along with him. "Did you not see me climbing the wall like a spider earlier?"

"Ah, yes. Straight out from a horror film." commented Monoma though he can't hide his impressment when he first witnessed it, made him more curious about what Quirk does [Y/N]'s father possessed. "Unladylike if you ask me."

"Says the one who climbed over to yell at people."

"...Hatsume Mei voluntarily stepped out of bounds." The announcement made the two switched back to the arena. They saw Hatsume standing outside of the white line, hand on her forehead to wipe her sweat. Midnight stretched an arm to the other side of the arena. "Tenya Iida advances to the next round!"

The said boy was left in shambles, his outburst echoing betrayal throughout the stadium. The bystanders were satisfied at the fight despite how it went, though [Y/N] felt bad for Iida for being manipulated and used—his older brother might tease him too about it after the festival was over. Midnight then informed everyone about the next battle, and as much as [Y/N] wanted to see how Mina would stand her ground against Tokoyami she needed to be ready.

She took her time in standing up, feeling the nerves crawling up to her knees while at the same time a spark of pride in her eyes. The sudden weight on her shoulders was noticeable, and [Y/N] could hear her own heartbeat in each thump—Monoma, Class B, U.A., her parents, everyone would watch, be focused, on her.

The blond beside her tugged the end of her uniform to catch her attention. [Y/N] was met with a neutral expression, as if Monoma was unaffected or uninterested to the awaited moment. Yet the way his fingers curled around the fabric from little to firm before easing said otherwise.

"...Try not to make a fool of yourself," he said at last, tone slipping back into its familiar arrogance like nothing had changed.

"Worried Monoma?"

"Hardly."