gloves hand is extended, brows pinched together. izuku’s looked better, but he isn’t giving up yet. “if we do this together, we can win, kacchan. for the sake of our friends, for now, we’ll put aside whatever’s going on with us to protect them.” lips curve into a grin, hand still held out. “let’s show them what it really means to be a hero.”
There are so many things in his cardinal gaze as it darts from the hand outstretched to him up into the warm eyes attached to it that it’s difficult to discern what he’s really thinking – shock, confusion, incredulity are the dominant forces among them; but in the end, an amalgamation of bitter understanding, reluctant acceptance, and halfhearted objection ( for appearance’s sake ) win out. His gloved hand comes up against the other’s, not in a grasp to help him to his feet but in a clap of knuckles against the other’s palm that drives his hand away in rejection – there are limits to what Katsuki’s ego will allow him to accept, after all.
❝ – shut up. I can win without your ass, nerd. ❞
He pushes himself up off the ground and rolls his shoulders before spreading his feet and stooping down into a ready stance – palms cocked back at his sides like weapons at the ready, his expression hard with determination and alight with adrenaline for the battle at their precipice. His mouth turns up at the corner, a dangerous edge of excitement playing about his features as his fingers flicker to life with popping explosions and ominous smoke.
❝ …but I guess I’ll let you help me. Just try and keep up, oh chosen one. ~ ❞
