Title: If you want to go far
Author: Timothy Wren
Fandom: BNHA
Challenge: BNHA Rarepair Bang 2022
Relationship: Ashido Mina/Bakugou Katsuki/Hagakure Tooru/Kirishima Eijirou/Midoriya Izuku
Word Count: 3,807 (Complete)
Genre: Power Rangers 2017 crossover, Entrance Exam Arc, AU.
Summary: The exam wants them to destroy robots, which is both painfully ironic and deeply satisfying. Once, he might have hesitated– a year ago, maybe. Now his body knows these steps and jumps into the rhythm like a familiar dance.
The hardest part is keeping his armor under his skin.
They’re from the same school, so they get sent to five separate testing areas. It’s unfortunate– after all this time, he’d rather have no one else by his side– but Izuku was expecting it. They step outside of the exam building and prepare to board separate buses.
He releases Hagakure’s hand, who giggles at the parting kiss across her knuckles; gives Mina a high-five and Kirishima a kiss on the cheek for good luck; and, as the others give each other goodbyes as normal, Izuku squints questioningly at Kacchan.
Kacchan glares at him before grabbing him by the collar and pushing him against a wall. Izuku smiles up at him, heart racing without fear, all white teeth and happiness.
“Get in.” He orders, gruff, and Izuku nods. Kacchan kisses him roughly and turns around without a backward glance.
Their relationship has always been turbulent but nowadays it’s consistently nice. Izuku wouldn’t trade it for anything.
He makes his way to his group with a kick in his step, shoving his gloved hands in his pockets to quiet their tremoring. He isn’t afraid, for once– instead, he is excited. Anticipation quickens his steps and in no time at all, he’s boarding the bus.
Wearing a red tracksuit makes him stand out, a little bit– the color is bright, unapologetic, and loud. It had taken months to stop torturing himself trying (and failing) to tone it down. The need to color-code runs deep in his veins, and ultimately won out over any lingering shyness.
(They’d all spent those first few weeks in a constantly confused state of unconsciously dressing in red-blue-yellow-black-pink, respectively, but amidst ‘suddenly being able to run fast, rip doors off their hinges, and jump thirty feet vertically,’ the bone-deep urge to wear one color had seemed like a comparatively minor concern.
Luckily, his mom had picked up on the change pretty quickly.)
Izuku’s foot taps the ground as he struggles to wrestle his thoughts back to the present, alternating between adrenaline and impatience. Finally, finally, the bus stops and they let the prospective students loose on a giant, empty city.
The exam wants them to destroy robots, which is both painfully ironic and deeply satisfying. Once, he might have hesitated– a year ago, maybe. Now his body knows these steps and jumps into the rhythm like a familiar dance.
The hardest part is keeping his armor under his skin.
He’s strong enough to do immense damage to the robots’ metal hulls, and fast enough to quickly go from one to another. He tries not to go for an enemy that’s been ‘called’ by another examinee.
And this, too, is familiar. Some of the kids are very clearly unused to fighting with their quirks, or fighting at all– he spends some time dragging those out of the way of backlash or rubble, keeping civilians clear of the advancing force.
The robots, unlike putties, ignore anyone not actively engaging. Izuku picks up on the pattern quickly and feels his shoulders relax. After that, he is a little more decisive in which civilians he drags out of harm’s way, but doesn’t waste any time evacuating them properly out of the area as he would in a genuine attack. They don’t want to leave, anyway– they want points just like he does.
Instinct still has him dive into rescues more often than not. The minutes blur and stretch in turn. Izuku knows how to do this; Izuku has been doing this, or something like it, for the better part of a year. It’s what he’s made for.
It’s strange not to chatter with the others while he methodically destroys the foot soldiers.
Lonely. Quips rise and fall on his tongue, unspoken, the habitual jokes that they make to cope with the constant fight, and he keeps expecting to see flashes of color out of the corner of his eye, to coordinate his attacks and ensure none of his teammates are being overwhelmed by sheer numbers.
At least his situational awareness is as strong as it always is; while the others aren’t here to weave in and out of combat with him, his mind substitutes the position of the other students easily enough, and he keeps track of them throughout.
“Look out!” He calls, right when the time is almost up. The Zero Pointer has been announced and its steps both shake the ground and shake loose unstable pieces of debris. He barely knocks a girl out of the way in time, their bodies scraping roughly on the concrete.
“Oh!” She gasps, eyes pinned over his shoulder at the chunk of building that crashes to the ground where they had been. He stands, patting the dust off his jacket, and helps her up.
Izuku looks up and all thought stops. He opens his mouth to make the call, hand already pressed to his bracelet.
We need zords, he thinks on auto-pilot, mind already halfway to a living metal dragon that can combine into something even bigger than the Zero Pointer. He can feel his zord’s curiosity, its eagerness to rush out.
His fingers twitch and he forces them away from the alien metal communicator. No, this doesn’t make sense.
How can a handful of teenagers take on a giant robot without a Megazord?
Izuku stills, epiphany stopping him in his tracks.
Answer: they’re not supposed to, of course.
Maybe they’re supposed to show the better part of valor– common sense– and run away. This is supposed to be a test, after all.
Or maybe they’re supposed to team up and do their best.
(Izuku likes that option better. He’s never given up before, not in the face of odds much worse than this; he isn’t about to start now).
“Let’s gather the others.” He says to the girl, offering her a reckless grin he doesn’t have to fake. It’s the confidence of a teenager who takes on monsters like this every week and wins.
The exam is mostly over; it’s time to give those proctors a show, to stand out from the crowd. It certainly can’t hurt their chances.
She blinks a few times before offering her a grin of her own.
Most people are running away from the monster– the robot– as they should be, and as over a year of experience has taught them, if they’re from the area.
“If we work together we can make a difference!” Izuku shouts, trying to wave some of them over. “Let’s halt its progress so people have a chance to get away!”
In a real scenario, that’s all the heroes on the scene can do; stand the line, take potshots, and hope to god the Power Rangers are on their way.
Several students are desperate enough or eager enough to prove themselves. Izuku throws himself up the walls from building to building, getting a higher vantage point, and starts directing.
Most of his compatriots have minor offensive quirks. Those, he points toward strategic attacks to the knee and ankle joints. Some have area-of-effect quirks; those, he marshals towards creating what obstacles they can to slow the swath of destruction it’s carving.
Even knowing it’s not a real city and essentially a game, Izuku’s gut twists. Something about allowing a giant monster to carve its way through a cityscape is maddening. He should be stopping it.
“I have a mind control quirk, I can’t hurt it!” One kid shouts, brimming with frustration, and while the others take potshots and introduce hazards to the robot, ineffectually damaging its paint, Izuku’s mind races ahead.
They can’t just let this thing get past them. In a real-world scenario, this city won’t be empty. They’ve got to take it out. They’ve got to at least try.
Izuku abandons his vantage point, jumping down to street level. He shoves his gloves to the purple-haired boy and grabs him around the waist, despite the fact that the other boy has nearly a foot on him.
“Hold on!” A leap takes them to a shorter building, and then the robot’s shoulder. Izuku grabs hard onto the thing’s neck, warping metal, and aims a punch at the spine. He pries off the metal casing, wincing as it digs in but doesn’t cut, as it would a normal person, and soon reveals a mess of wires underneath.
“You’re crazy!” The guy shouts back. He’s already wearing the gloves, though, and doesn’t hesitate to start pulling out wires. Most of them are too tough to directly tear, but they’re all attached to things and can be yanked out. The robot tries to reach for them and finds its fingers too large and its reach too limited.
Its movements quickly become jerky, uncoordinated. Other students scramble below to get out of reach of the robot’s wind-milling arms.
“Find something to grab!” Izuku makes sure the Mind Control kid is situated before jumping down. There– the laser person.
“Point damage at a vulnerable spot!” He shouts, waving a hand.
“Sold!” Laser Quirk Kid’s eyes narrow in glee and they launch themselves into Izuku’s arms, bridal style. Gravity Girl slaps the blonde hard on the shoulder and, burden alleviated, Izuku takes them back up, whooping loudly out of habit as wind rushes through his hair.
What’s the point of having superpowers if you can’t enjoy the little things?
“I’ve only got one good shot left.” The blonde gasps, grinning widely. Still weightless, only the purple-haired guy’s lightning-fast grip on their wrist keeps them from floating away, when Izuku sets them down.
“Then make it count!” The purple-haired guy says, slightly-hysterical laughter tinging his voice at the improbable situation.
The blonde puts their hands on their hips and juts them out, aiming a laser at the mess of wires. The smell of melting plastic immediately fills the air, sparks sizzling from exposed wires.
“That’s our queue.” Izuku sweeps up the blonde as their footing jolts; they burst into gasps and giggles, and Izuku launches them down to the ground by his grip on their belt loop, shouting for the Gravity Girl.
She catches the Laser Quirk Kid like a football and Izuku opens his arms to the purple-haired kid.
“If this works, I owe you lunch.” He grumbles, but steps forward gamely enough. Izuku sweeps him up into the bridal carry to keep his knees clear– the guy is tall– and leaps to clear the danger area.
He lands hard, knees bent, and a tremble runs through the concrete.
Mind Control’s eyes widen, looking shocked over Izuku’s shoulder, and he has barely set the guy down when big hands lock on his biceps and heave him out of the way, into the empty doorway of a nearby building.
The robot’s hand slaps into the road where they had been standing, bigger than a car, and Izuku’s blood runs cold.
“Tell me everyone got clear.” He says, breathless, and thinks to fucking hell with it, if the situation calls for armor–
“They’re clear.” The guy shoves a hand through his hair, raking it out of his eyes. “I saw while we were falling– nobody was in the street. It’s Shinsou, by the way. He/him.”
“Shinsou.” Izuku grins at him, panting. He brushes his sweaty hands on his knees. “Fuck, I hope we made it.”
“If I did, it’s thanks to you. I was serious about taking you out.” Purple eyes dart up and down Izuku’s frame and he blushes hard.
“I’ve got–um. I’m taken.” He stutters.
“Lucky girl?”
“Aha. Lucky two girls. And two guys.” Izuku rubs the back of his neck with an anxious little laugh. “We’re in a polycule.”
“An open polycule?” Shinsou asks, curious and a little leading.
“Um!” Izuku laughs again, for lack of what to say. “We haven’t really talked about that but– um. Give me your number and we’ll text?”
He covers his face, looking through his fingers with an unfamiliar shyness.
“Fair enough.” Shinsou leans against the wall, a little tension leaving his frame as the exam officially finishes, and clean-up begins. They exchange numbers and Izuku’s heart finally stops pounding. He’s dying to find out how his datemates did, so after entering Shinsou’s contact he hastily texts the team.
Everyone is cautiously optimistic, even Hagakure, so Izuku offers quick congratulations and pockets his phone again as he spots Recovery Girl approaching their area.
“If you have a checklist, we can get accountability.” He offers, once she finishes looking them both over. She squints at him, but pulls out a tablet with a list of names. Izuku smiles winningly.
“You sure do go above and beyond.” Shinsou huffs at him, but doesn’t protest as Izuku leads him to every examinee around the vicinity of the Zero Pointer.
“Well, you know– plus ultra and all that.” Izuku shows him the list and they check themselves off. “And shit, I figure this is like an audition, as well as a test. The points matter but at the end of the day, we’re selling ourselves to and trying to impress the teaching staff here. I want to leave an impression.”
“You’re succeeding.” Shinsou leads him down the closest alley and they begin the fun process of finding all the stragglers. Recovery Girl had already checked off a large number– presumably from the crowd waiting at the gate and the bus.
Izuku ends up directing several lost people back to the meet-up point, piggyback carrying one who has a broken ankle, and Shinsou does get to use his quirk by talking someone down from a panic attack. The other student is stranded in a room whose only doorway is blocked by a robot’s corpse.
“Rescue work is hero work, I guess.” Shinsou says, as the girl thanks him wholeheartedly, and Izuku as well for his part in moving the robot. Shinsou rubs his cheek self-consciously.
“That’s the spirit!” Izuku slaps him on the back.
Eventually, they run out of ways to help. Recovery Girl takes the tablet back from them with a thorough inspection of the names and an even more thorough interrogation about the various injuries– though Izuku sticks to his guns in assuring her that they sent every single injured student her way, no matter how small the bruise.
Finally, she sends them off, with spare gummies and a matronly pat to Izuku’s cheek. He blushes hard and ignores Shinsou when the other boy snickers at him the whole walk back to the gate.
The bus takes them back to the main facility and Izuku can hardly wait. He vibrates in his seat, thumbing through different apps on his phone over and over again.
“Somewhere to be?” Shinsou asks, knocking their shoulders together softly.
“Two boyfriends and two girlfriends who just took the exam, too.” He breathes out in a rush. The bus rolls to a stop and Izuku, a gentleman, doesn’t cut the line but he does sprint for the doors to the building just as they’re opening.
“ Izuku!” Mina shouts, grabbing him by the waist and spinning him. “Tell me you crushed so many robots! Tell me right now!”
He laughs as he comes down and she dips him right there, kissing him full on the mouth.
“Izuku!” Kirishima crashes into Mina’s back when they straighten up, pinning her between them. They hug their girlfriend and Kirishima gives him a big smack of a kiss over her shoulder, grinning too hugely to make it much more.
His freshly dyed hair is glaringly bright in the afternoon sunlight and Izuku’s heart pounds to see his color on his boyfriend. Kirishima’s smile is all shark-teeth pointy and he’s still glistening a little with exertion.
“Wasn’t it so weird to be fighting a giant robot on the ground!?” Hagakure interrupts, hands landing on his forearm. She’s already put her clothes back on, a white shirt tucked into a sparkly gold skirt that glitters in the sun, and long white socks that stretch up her calves.
“It was!” Izuku tugs her close to rest his forehead on hers, breathing in the scent of her. She giggles, breath hitching, and Izuku can’t resist the urge to spin her around, so– he does.
“I almost reached for you guys, like, a thousand times. It’s really weird to go at it alone.” Mina gushes, letting him go but not far. Izuku lifts Hagakure by the hips and she shrieks delight, knees kicking as they spin.
He sets her down with a slew of bunny kisses to the cheeks, happiness so loud in him he can barely hear his own rushing pulse, and her hands hold onto his forearms like she never wants to let go.
“Usually something is wrong when that happens.” Kirishima agrees, laughing. “And usually I know you guys are on the way.”
“As if we’d ever leave you alone like that.” Bakugou scoffs, stepping off his own bus and walking over. He’s wearing a blue so deep it’s almost black, with a jean jacket thrown on over the muscle shirt.
“Dude!” Kirishima disappears from behind Mina with hearts in his eyes, sprinting over to their fifth. “I just know you crushed it. You crushed it, right!?”
“Chill, yes, it was fine.” Bakugou lifts his hands up to show they’re already healed of any burns. He smirks at them, eyes red, red, red.
Izuku’s heart leaps into his throat. You’d think one day he’d get used to it.
Today is not that day.
Mina rushes forward, patting down Bakugou from shoulder to elbow and back up. Izuku shifts until Hagakure is in front of him, arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder to watch in pure domestic bliss as they fuss over Kacchan.
Eventually, Kirishima reaches out and tugs Hagakure over by the hand– who tugs Izuku along in the same fashion, and he can’t help but giggle at the daisy-chaining– and then they’re standing so close, bond buzzing with contentment, that Izuku can’t tell where his skin ends and the others’ begins.
Then Kirishima’s arm is draped around his hips, and he definitely feels that, and he shifts a little– only to gasp in surprise as his back brushes against firm muscle. He can certainly feel that, too.
“I bet you made friends with all those other extras.” Kacchan breathes against his temple, snorting a little. One of his arms winds around Izuku from the front until his fingers tangle with Kirishima’s.
“Just the one.” He says, grinning through the pink flush of being known. Known and loved. It’s exhilarating. “Well, one and a half. Maybe. Two other halves? Three people but only one whose contact I have saved.”
He can hear Kacchan roll his eyes.
“I made a friend!” Kirishima volunteers, eagerness showing in the vibrating line of his body. “A cool dude with an electric quirk. It’s so fucking manly!”
“Oh, I met someone too!” Mina fans herself, equally excited. “We got into a one-liner contest while we were smashing baddies. Well, a pun contest? Does a pun count as a one-liner?”
“A pun counts as a mistake.” Kacchan grumbles, but he can’t keep the soft smile off his face watching them. Izuku leans his head back into Bakugou’s shoulder and the other boy doesn’t even stumble under the weight.
“What about you, Tooru?” Kirishima asks. “Did you make any friends or see anybody cool?”
“I did!” Her gold-gloved hands touch her face. “I totally did! There’s this guy with a shadow quirk and he’s so intense, like, really this whole goth vibe. I hope he gets in.”
They continue talking about their day, edging closer and closer until his skin is humming.
Izuku doesn’t have words for how amazing it is that he’s starting UA with his datemates already beside him. It feels huge in him– unlikely and incredible, fearless and formidable.
Five gems chose them, forged a bond, cracked them open and poured in Power.
It didn’t have time to be gentle. So Izuku has red carved through him, a gestalt of leadership and responsibility, of reckless courage.
Red blossoms across his knuckles, staining a grin shaping his mouth, in armor and blood, in Power and potential unleashed, and it says: these are yours.
–
Kirishima reaches for a shiny rock and receives an explosion of Power instead. It is the first hint that explosions will become something beautiful and soon he will follow them everywhere. The void of space beckons, black as the night between stars, and Eijirou gets lost in the beating heart of it, the blaze of color a riot under his skin.
The gestalt seems a second thought compared to the impossible intimacy of t e a m– of four colors at his back and inside him. It is an outpouring of confidence, a shockwave of joy and surety, a quartet of adamantium ties to red-pink-yellow-blue that Kirishima solders eagerly– selfishly– triumphantly– to his soul. He will be whatever they need him to be.
–
Here is blue: support, a hammer to find problems and fix them, a right hand and a strong shoulder, the constant seeing and searching for solutions.
Katsuki breathes around the fury of Izuku stepping forward in red. He swallows down the burning need to prove something– and the Power rewards him for it, seeing him right back. He feels/he is/ known.
–
Hagakure is invisible until she’s not.
A current of wild power runs through the universe and then through her. It sharpens her edges and her teeth. She has spent a lifetime trying– constantly trying– to be seen, to be chosen– and then:
Four bright colors given to her, a connection and blood and prism, and Hagakure will not let them go. Gold roars molten through her veins and wraps fierce around her ribs, poured into the mantle of her; it shines through the cracks. She is settled, she is home, she will cherish and fight, snarl, die to keep.
–
Mina is the heart of them. She flows between them like blood, softening their colors. She is a laugh, a twirl, a reckless flash of teeth and the core of her bared open.
Mina shares. Her feelings, her time, her thoughts and the cleaved open ribs where she lets them in; and, in her arms, they know they are safe.
Pink charges through her and Mina is unstoppable.
–
Happiness is a taste on the wind. It’s not often they are all together like this with nowhere to be, but the moment seems golden, unending, all body-heat and shoulders leaning on each other.
Izuku leans into Katsuki’s skin and breathes in salt and comfort. The blonde is as temperamental as the ocean, mercurial like the sea’s moods. Hagakure is light as air, ever uplifting; Kirishima, arm around him, as steady as the earth; Mina the fire that warms them all.
Izuku can feel the Current of Power humming through the heart of the universe, and it is smiling.
–
Notes: My partner for this bang posted their art here!