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“So, how was school kid?” The eye-roll was a very definitive answer as Izuku continued to wrap his arms, the wrappings expertly moved around to compress on his arms and scars and protect him from any further injuries.
“Still as terrible as always.” Testing the way the wrappings felt, he nodded his head as he reached for his bracers, seeing that his handler was already moving them to him. “What’s going on?” He started to tie them down, slowly tightening them down.
“Just making small-talk. Isn’t it the job of your manager to pretend to have an interest in your life?” Izuku scoffed as he turned over, the man smirking. “I’m kidding, you know I actually care.”
“Yeah, yeah. Who’s ass am I kicking tonight anyways?”
“I miss the days when you were a stuttering mess, saying kicking butt,” the man said, his arm over his face as if to say he was crying. “My poor Yamikumo, I corrupted you!” He said, giving probably the fakest crying sounds.
Izuku couldn’t help at that point but laugh as he finished gearing up his arms, adjusting his pants again before wrapping his sash around his stomach, tightening it down as he breathed out and moved into his proper posture. “Can’t be any of our usuals given the audience that I was told is out there. Someone new?”
“Even better than that, a kid from Destro’s little Cult,” the man said, as Izuku paused, looking over. “Yeah, apparently this is a grudge match.”
“I thought we refused to do business with them?”
“So did I. Apparently some strings were pulled, hence you being the one picked. I have a request from the owner herself.” Izuku looked as the man removed his glasses and put his cloak over his shoulders. “Beat his ass.”
“Deal.” Izuku said as he breathed, before stepping out, moving to watch the ring.
Here he wasn’t Midoriya Izuku. He, as he had been for the past four years, was Yamikumo, as he got into the mindset, seeing the current betting odds and remembering what his goal was. His smirk was gone as he kept a focused look, analyzing what was going on.
It mildly annoyed him to see in the distance the look of his target’s banner, something as ridiculous as the Meta-Liber-idiot Army, he thought to himself as he sighed. All them flying that flag around would accomplish is getting him and everyone else in trouble.
Well, not that he was doing anything illegal. Part of what made him infamous in the ring.
They were located in an abandoned parking lot, the basement specifically where they fought so that no one could see them. He saw the pop-up stalls for various gambling groups, for registering your own fighter, even for food and drinks. Unlike some others, this one had a two majors rule to it.
No Uppers. No Weapons. Quirks were allowed, but you were expected to show how good you were to the audience. If you wanted to see a bunch of Trigger-addicts making noise, go see the original Underground Masquerade, or some MLA-ran ring, but if you wanted to truly see what made someone good, you came here.
No representing a group or cult. When you were here, you weren’t a Yakuza fighter, or a Humarise fighter, no MLA or Villain Factory. You were just you.
Not for the first time today Izuku questioned how the strings were pulled that this idiot was allowed to step foot into his ring, but he decided already what he was going to do.
He watched a few of the other fights going on, mostly fighting without needing a quirk as the audience cheered at the level of skill. He felt as someone approached him, himself pausing before he turned to see it was his manager as he raised an eyebrow.
“What’s today’s slogan?” Oh, right. A part of the selling the fight, you picked a slogan to be yelled out, or to mark what your fight would be. Izuku paused, looking back at the MLA kid as he smirked.
“Oh, I got one.”
- - -
It was his turn in the ring as they announced for him, the large lights filling up to show the chalk drawn line. Izuku didn’t even need to measure, knowing it by heart. 12 meters in diameter.
“Welcome to tonight’s special match! While this is not usually how we do this, a challenge was rang out from another circuit’s ring, and we decided to show them what’s the big deal!” The people were cheering and booing, Yamikumo recognizing which was his people, which weren’t. He stepped forward, keeping his head down as he moved to kneel, a position of honor at the 3 meter mark, his shoulders covered as one of the officials walked over.
“Tonight’s Challenger! Number One fighter in the Shizuoka MLA Circuit, he is their ‘God of Destruction’, the Ground Zero!” The teen was posturing, trying to look impressive as Izuku only could roll his eyes.
“His opponent! Our own Musutafu Circuit’s fighter with his head in the clouds! The fighter that not even evolution could keep down! Everyone! Raise your voices for our Yamikumo!” The cheering was louder as Yamikumo slowly stood, before removing the cloak like cloth, allowing his shoulders and back to be seen. He almost had to laugh as he watched the minute the kid in front of him’s eyes widened.
Scars existing on his shoulders and chest were one thing, but it was the tattoos that likely got his attention and made him pause. His shirt and uniform as a student covered up them, so it was likely a shock to see the jackaloupe on his right arm, green with golden antlers. He had on his left arm a tattoo detailing out the spider lily flowers with butterflies around them. Underneath both arms were a ring of almost arrow like tattoos, three were complete on his right arm with a fourth a quarter complete, while his left arm only had one partially complete. His back couldn’t be seen from the angle, but Yamikumo smirked as he moved into his position.
“First round! Get into position fighters!” Both moved to stand, waiting. His opponent’s posture gave it away immediately, he was leaning heavily on one side. He was going to lead with a right hook.
This was going to be easy.
The officials recited the rules, Yamikumo respectfully nodding his head in understanding as Ground Zero scoffed and rolled his eyes and dismissed it.
“Begin!” Was yelled as immediately the smell of burning sugar was smelled, the teen lunging with a right hook at a high speed, his hand in a gripping motion to attempt to grip. It was obvious how he moved, his quirk was based out of his hand, as Yamikumo smirked, reacting.
The moment the distance between them was 1 meter, he moved to the side, slowly crouching as he brought his fist into the softer underside of his right side, where the chest connected to the armpit, striking true with a smirk as he watched the strike making him shudder slightly as he was pushed away.
He turned quickly, obviously in a shock more than true pain as he felt his arm, but Yamikumo gave him no break, rushing him immediately. He crossed the distance and struck true with a punch to the solar plexus, feeling the satisfaction of his opponent’s eyes bulge as he slowly backed up a few meters, tettering close to the line as he decided to kick him.
Flashy? Maybe. But he did have a show to sell as he connected, kicking his target out of the ring.
“Winner of the first round, Yamikumo!” Everyone began to loudly cheer. “Now, because tonight’s match is special, it is a first to two wins!”
He only nodded, returning to his spot as he waited for the teenager to stand up. Maybe he was a bit rough, but he was following orders.
“Zero!” A few people started to cheer loudly, Yamikumo chuckling as he recognized the mocking tone. He wasn’t the Number One, not here.
As he stood up and came back to his side, scowling but ready, he spoke up. “Fucker, you won’t get that again. I’ll put your kind back in your place.” He growled as he moved into a different stance, not favoring his right side. He must have learned a lesson, Yamikumo thought as he took on the same stance as before.
“Fight!” The teen moved low this time, blasting his quirk to make a smokescreen as Yamikumo breathed, listening. He felt it in a moment, the connection of a fist as the person hit him, before attempting to return to the smokescreen, dropping another explosion.
“At least you know how to hide like a good coward. Destro would be proud of you,” Yamikumo muttered as he felt it, the second hit, only to react, spinning and connecting the heel of his foot with the teen’s face, smirking as he felt him fall back and down onto the ground.
He immediately moved to pin him, knee on his throat enough to make the warning clear as a fist was aimed for his face, the colors of a black eye beginning already to form over the blood from his nose. “Yield.”
He growled before the eruption of power from underneath Yamikumo was felt, only though it forced him to put more weight on the throat of his enemy, before he rolled away, hearing the coughing as the teen attempted to catch his breath. He felt a small growl leave his own throat, as he did not wait, reaching to grab the teen’s head and pin it back into the ground, his body-weight holding the teen’s head as he readied another strike. “Yield.”
He growled, raising his hands to send another attack before the fighter had enough, grabbing the moving hand and resting it on Ground Zero’s chest as he sent off the explosion, burning his own chest as Yamikumo felt himself getting knocked back himself.
“Winner, Ground Zero!” Yamikumo sighed as he looked down, seeing the line before him. During the scuffle he got moved around. That was his fault. He only took a deep breath, centering himself.
Alright. No more playing around. Business time.
The teen stood again to fight, blood coming off his now exposed chest, a swollen eye and bleeding nose, and staggering slightly as Yamikumo stood, shifting as he raised a hand, in Japanese Sign Language the sign for the number Six as everyone started to yell.
“There it is! Tonight’s slogan from Yamikumo! For those new, we let our fighters pick their own little slogan. A promise! This is his!”
“Now, this one may need a history lesson, but we’ll share it after he does it. Now everyone, yell with me, ‘Do it for the Vine!’” as Yamikumo smirked, the promise of a six second victory being made.
The bloodied fighter was confused as he looked around, as the other teen explained. “Pre-Quirk meme. It means I’m taking you down in six seconds this time. You better fucking prepare yourself, little Meta Cultist.”
He only scowled as he started growling. “Looking down on my you Quirkless Reject! I’ll fucking kill you, fucking Deku,” and that signed his fate as Yamikumo’s smirk faded.
“Fig-” the fight had not even started before he took off, blasting with both arms out, ready to grab and strike with as much force as he could. Even if they had not known each other as kids, Izuku could read this obvious attack as he himself prepared.
.5 seconds.
The smaller fighter moved first, as he got within range, ducking low as he moved under the grapple, and sweeping his feet out. He was putting so much body-weight forward that the movement began to make him fall forward as Izuku struck next immediately.
1 second.
He gripped the half-destroyed shirt with one hand, the belt with his other, as he rolled with the momentum, adding his own strength as he redirected him into the ground, a loud thud being heard as he rolled with him, pinning him, painfully.
2 seconds.
He only needed a moment as he held him down with one hand, releasing the other as he struck cleanly into the teen’s face, furthest bruising his face.
3 seconds.
He raised his hand other, making the shocked teen look him in the eyes as Izuku growled and stood up, a non-verbal warning to stay down. He stepped away.
4 seconds.
He didn’t listen, yelling as he propelled himself up with an explosion, into Izuku’s body, attempting to pin him himself. Izuku let himself fall back, rolling with the momentum.
5 seconds.
Rolling as he did, quickly they separated before Izuku got up first, done with all of this finally as he kicked the teen who was still on the ground, taking satisfaction as he knew he felt the wind leave him, the force sending him flying. He admitted he gave his all into this kick, as the force sent the teen flying.
6 seconds.
He landed outside the ring, having been kicked hard enough to travel the entire 9 meters. He didn’t hold back that time, feeling bloodthirsty at that moment.
“Six Seconds! The winner tonight is Yamikumo!” He held his hand up, seeing how bloodied it was as everyone cheered. His manager came to the side, walking him out of the ring as they returned to their lockers.
Helping him clean up, the man only chuckled, though there was no comedy, only seriousness. “You fought like you knew that boy, Izuku.”
“Remember when I started here it was to learn to protect myself from a bully?” Izuku watched his manager pause, as he removed his sunglasses to look Izuku in the eye.
“...Sounds like you had a good night then, kid.”
“He recognized me immediately. I wanted him to remember me now.”
“Alright kid, what color you want this victory to be on your arm?”
“How about gold? For that shit’s hair.” He only heard his manager’s laughter as they both relaxed.
“Consider it a deal, you damn punk.”