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Sweat dripped down her face to her collarbone as sounds of music pounded from her earbuds. The gym was dark, empty, giving her ample room to train. She switched up her footwork giving a hard upper right hook .The punching bag crumpled in response as she swung again.
A kick. Two punches. Another kick. Jabs that could knock person out cold.
“Itsuka?”
She whirled around, instinctively striking without a second thought. He caught the attack unfazed rasing an eyebrow towards her. Monoma.
She pulled her fist back and yanked the earbud from her right ear. She hadn’t even heard him come in.
“What’s up?”
He eyed her for a moment, scrutinizing before coming to meet her eyes properly, “You missed dinner.”
“I’ll eat something later,” she waved him off. She wasn’t hungry. She had to train. She had to be better. Prove herself.
She went to put the earbud back when Monoma interjected.
“Do you know what time it is?”
She hesitated . Well, dinner was at six so-
“Seven?” she guessed, her focus returning back to the bag.
“Try nine.”
“Oh.” Her guard dropped as she lowered her arms by her side, gaze falling to the floor.
He continued on, “Everyone’s been looking for you. You disappeared right after classes and never came back.”
Her fists tightened and she struck the bag in response. A direct hit. “I know.” She replied through gritted teeth. She inhaled deeply. “I need to practice.”
“For five hours?”
Another hit.
“Yes.”
The response was curt. She didn’t feel like talking right now. Couldn’t Monoma just take the hint and leave?! Whether or not he felt her irritation didn’t show on his face. Instead, he just hummed non-committedly not saying anything else. She put even more energy into her blows trying to ignore him.
“Do you need a partner?”
Once again, she turned to face him. Confusion evidently written all over her face. “What?”
“A sparring partner. Do you need one?”
“No, I heard what you said. But-” Another glance towards the bag, “I’m not doing quirk training.”
He rolled his eyes, “I know. But I need to practice my hand-to-hand anyway, its useless if I get in a battle where I can’t use my quirk.” He shrugged, “Besides-you’re holding back.”
“I’d have to hold back even more against you,” she scoffed.
“Despite what you may believe, I do posses more fighting capabilities than an inanimate object.”
“Fine. Change into your gym uniform.”
Monoma sauntered over to the locker rooms while Kendo eagerly gulped down water from the bottle in her gym bag. She had forgotten to hydrate earlier when she initially came in. She checked her phone. Missed messages from the class group chat and privately from her close friends. Most concerned, some silly.
She frowned. Two missed calls from Dad.
She powered it off shoving it into to her bag just and Monoma finished changing.
“Great you’re done. Let’s go to the mats.”
****
“Remember the rules, no quirks only hand-to hand. We stop when one of us either taps out or is unable to fight anymore. And no whining like last time.” Kendo reminded him.
“I know the rules, Itsuka. This isn’t the first time we’ve sparred.” He smirked shaking out his arms and shifting into a defensive stance, “And I’ve gotten better.”
Kendo started first, a hard right hook towards the chest. He weaved towards the right as she aimed a roundhouse kick towards his head. He rolled underneath elbowing her in the gut. She stumbled backwards, growling in frustration.
She swiped at his feet trying to knock him off stance but he jumped backwards, the attack just missing him. Her frustration mounted, and she threw a sloppy left uppercut to his jaw. He countred, kicking her back.
It went like this for a while. She’d attack. He’d dodge. Maybe one of them would land a hit or two. Then the cycle would repeat.
Over.
Another missed attack.
And over.
He kicked her in her side almost toppling her over.
And over.
She snapped.
Letting out a battle cry, she rushed him. A flurry of anger-filled punches and kicks that he weaved through with ease. Technique or strategy had been completely forgotten in favor of the pure energy put behind the attacks.
Then a strong punch collided with her gut and she fell toward the mat. Shameful heat rose to her cheeks. She punched the ground. “Again.”
Monoma shook his head, "Doesn't that go against our whole no whining clause?”
She didn’t respond, didn’t look at him as he walked out and down the hall.
Instead she screamed, marching back over to the punching bag. She kept hitting. Kept fighting. She was tired of people looking down on her.
Tired of losing. Of being denied.
The chain snapped and the bag fell to the ground as she stood over it. Her face red, panting, she plopped herself onto the ground. Footsteps approached behind her.
“Good, you’re still here.”
“What do you want, Nei?” She didn’t look at him. Her voice void of its earlier confidence now carried a defeated tone. Weak. Pathetic.
Just like her.
He laid out two bento boxes and some drinks, and set to eating. Wordlessly, she grabbed one and did the same as well. She recognized it as one of her favorite meals from the vending machine and dug in eagerly, not having realized how hungry she was until now.
She winced, seeing the blooming bruise starting to form on Monoma’s jawline. That was going rough to hide from the class tomorrow.
“.....I’m sorry for lashing out.”
He continued eating, “It’s okay. I think the bag took most of it anyway.”
“....”
“Seriously I’m fine. I’ve taken worse hits in regular training, and if it does become to much I can always go to Recovery Girl.”
“I guess….”
“So are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
"Nothing's wrong. I’m fine.” She frowned. That came out harsher than she had intended.
However, Monoma still wasn’t fazed. “Sure, people who try to shadow box their mental breakdowns away are completely normal.”
“I’m not having a mental breakdown!”
“The blood on your hands say otherwise.”
She looked down, her hands were raw, knuckles bruised. She balled her hand into fist ignoring the stinging pain that followed.
“....You didn’t even notice, did you?” Kendo looked back up at him, his brow was creased, his voice was laced with that special concern that always seemed to be reserved just for her.
Sighing, she decided to get it off her chest, “It’s my dad.”
“Yeah?”
“He still dosen’t think i should be a hero. Whenever I try to talk to him about it he says its either a phase or I’m being over sensitive. I try not to let it get to me-but he’s still my dad. Being a hero is my dream-and I’m not going to give it up for anybody but-”
“It’d be nice to have his support.”
Her voice wavered as her mind drifted away from the conversation. Instead to the memories of them fighting. Yelling. Her brother trying to break them up. Her marching out of the house in the rain-
Monoma’s arms wrapped around her snapping her out of her trance. Tears built up in her eyes as she hugged him back.“I just want him to be proud of me,” she sobbed softly.
“He’s an idiot for not recognizing your potential,” declared Monoma as he pulled away. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. I don’t know how he manages to miss that.”
“Because I’m a girl.”
“Then he’s even stupider than 1-A. And that says a lot coming from me.”
Kendo smiled she helped Monoma gather their trash. They stood up while Monoma popped his neck.
“Come on, let’s get back to the dorms. I told the others I’d bring you back. Plus you could use a shower.”
She playfully punched him in the arm. “Sure, thanks Nei.”
“Oh, Itsuka?”
“Hm?”
“The next time you need a sparring partner, I’m here.”