This was not how I planned my day.

One minute, I was just chasing a damn cat, and the next, I was locked in a tiny room with some guy who was most definitely not a UA student. No uniform. No hero costume. No common sense.

And worst of all? He had a quirk that looked an awful lot like decay.

"You noticed, didn't you?" The guy grinned like a creep, flexing his fingers. "You know what happens if I grab you with all five."

I took a slow step back, pressing my lips into a thin line. Play dumb, Izuku. Play dumb.

"Wow," I deadpanned, tilting my head. "You mean to tell me your quirk lets you do finger-painting? I'm shaking. Absolutely terrified."

He chuckled, stepping forward. "Oh, you're funny. I like funny people."

"Great," I muttered. "Maybe I'll be your favorite once I kick your ass."

I moved first, lunging at him before he could react. My hand shot out, aiming for his shoulder, but he twisted to the side at the last second. I barely skimmed his jacket, my fingers grazing the rough fabric.

Too slow.

He retaliated instantly, swinging at my ribs. I dodged, but the room was way too small. My back hit a metal filing cabinet, the sharp corner jabbing into my side.

"Shit—"

He took advantage of my slip-up, closing the distance between us with way too much speed. His hand swiped toward my arm, and I barely managed to jerk away in time.

The sleeve of my uniform, however? Not so lucky.

It crumbled. Instantly.

I yanked my arm back, heart pounding. Holy crap.

He whistled. "Close one."

"Gee, thanks," I snapped, shaking the dust off me. "But could you not disintegrate my clothes? This uniform was expensive."

His smirk widened. "You're quick on your feet, I'll give you that. But I only need one good grab—"

I didn't let him finish.

I faked left, making him shift his weight, and then I dove right, aiming lower this time. If I could just touch his knee, his ankle, something, then it was over.

But again, he dodged, this time grabbing me instead—

Or so he thought.

I twisted midair, contorting like an overcooked spaghetti noodle, and yanked myself out of his grip. My body slammed into the wall behind me, but at least I wasn't dead. Small victories.

He let out a low whistle. "Damn, you're slippery."

"Oh, trust me," I huffed, straightening up. "I've spent years dodging people who want to murder me. You're just another Tuesday."

That earned a laugh. "Too bad for you—this Tuesday might be your last."

And then he was coming at me again.

Fast.

I barely had time to react before he swung, his hand aiming straight for my chest. Nope, not today. I dropped, letting gravity take me down, and slammed my heel against his shin as hard as I could.

He stumbled. Just a little.

It was enough.

I shot back up, pivoting on my foot, and went for his shoulder again.

Just one touch. That's all I needed.

But this guy was good. He anticipated it this time, ducking at the last second and rolling behind me. Before I could turn, he kicked at my knee.

Pain shot up my leg, and I staggered forward, cursing.

"You fight well," he admitted, standing straight again. "For someone quirkless."

I gritted my teeth, wiping sweat from my brow. "You say that like it's an insult."

"Just an observation," he mused. "You should be dead by now."

I scoffed. "And yet—" I gestured at myself. "Here I am. Annoying you. Existing."

He snorted. "For now."

We circled each other, both of us panting. The fight had only lasted a couple minutes, but it felt like forever. I was so close to pulling him in. To actually making him part of my team.

Dammit, why is he so hard to touch?!

I exhaled. "Okay," I said, forcing a grin. "You win. I give up."

He blinked. "Huh?"

I raised my hands in mock surrender. "Yep, you got me. I see no possible way of winning here, so I'll just... stand here and let you do whatever. Go ahead, do the whole villain monologue thing."

He squinted. "Are you serious?"

"Oh, totally." I nodded. "You're clearly stronger. Obviously faster. And definitely not falling for some dumb trick where I pretend to surrender so I can get close enough to—"

I lunged.

His eyes widened, but he barely reacted in time. He jumped back, dodging my grab again, but this time, I was ready.

As he moved, I kicked off the wall behind me, pushing off with as much force as I could muster, propelling myself straight at him.

He didn't expect the air assault.

Before he could twist away, I slammed into him, arms locking around his waist, dragging him down.

We hit the floor hard, rolling. I scrambled, reaching for his shoulder, his arm—anything.

But this time, instead of fighting back—he laughed.

"You really wanted me that bad?" he mused, grinning up at me. Then, suddenly—

He was gone.

I blinked, my hands clenching empty air. "What—?!"

A voice echoed from the doorway. "Better luck next time, Midoriya~!"

I spun around just in time to see him slipping through the open door, waving like we were best friends.

I froze. Then, I screamed.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! I WAS SO CLOSE!"

I grabbed the nearest object—a stapler—and chucked it at the door. It hit the frame with a pathetic clatter.

I flopped onto the floor, groaning.

"Goddammit!"

And from the hall outside, Bakugo's distant, muffled voice:

"WHY DO I HEAR BOSS MUSIC?!"