TheFanficGOD
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MHA131- Princess Tsun
🕑 Added 2025-06-04 23:00:56 +0000 UTCIt started, like all great disasters, with Sero and Kaminari being dipshits.
We were lounging in the common room, post-training, brains cooked medium-rare by Aizawa's patented brand of psychological warfare and Bakugo’s inability to spar without making it feel like a war crime. Jiro was on the other side of the couch, earphones in, bobbing her head to whatever angsty noise she downloaded last. Mina was upside down, legs over the backrest, abs showing zero signs of letting her fall. Uraraka was nursing a can of soda like it had answers, and Iida was ranting about elbow pads or some shit. Typical 1-A downtime.
Then it happened.
Sero looked up from his phone with the expression of someone about to light a match in a fireworks store.
“Hey, Ryuu,” he said, far too casual. “You ever gonna take Jiro out, or are you just gonna keep collecting everyone like a goddamn Pokédex?”
Kaminari choked on his drink and immediately jumped in. “Yo, facts. You got Momo at the museum, Tsuyu at the aquarium, Invisible Girl’s private art exhibit-”
“It was for her mom,” I cut in.
“Fight Club with Mina.”
“Therapeutic violence is bonding.”
“Uraraka’s shady-ass noodle alley.”
“Those noodles slapped, shut up.”
“Ghost café.”
“Classified. Never happened.”
They all turned to Jiro.
She did not look up. Just raised one hand, casually flicked them off, and kept nodding to her music.
Mina giggled. “That is not a no, by the way.”
I leaned back, arms folded. “You idiots talk like I’m setting up a dating bracket.”
“You are not?” Kaminari blinked.
Jiro sighed like she had just been given a terminal diagnosis called "being near you people." She pulled one earbud out. “You guys seriously have nothing better to do?”
Kaminari gasped. “That sounds like deflection!”
Sero grinned. “It is tsundere 101, bro!”
I looked over at her. She glanced at me. One eyebrow twitch. Barely a flinch.
That was basically Jiro-speak for ‘kill them.’
I snorted. “Tell me, geniuses, how exactly do you imagine this goes?”
Sero grinned. “I dunno. You show up with that smug ‘I cook better than your parents’ energy, she pretends she’s not into it, you roast her into blushing, and bam... date.”
Kaminari nodded. “Bonus points if it ends in music. Or kissing. Or kissing while playing music.”
Jiro turned to them, smile thin and dangerous. “I hope you all accidentally electrocute yourselves in your sleep.”
“Love you too, Jiro,” Mina grinned.
She rolled her eyes, but her earjack twitched. She did that when she was thinking too loud. Or planning violence.
Uraraka leaned over. “Honestly, you two hanging out would be kind of cute.”
Jiro groaned. “We already hang out. Like… all the time.”
Mina grinned. “Yeah, but not like that.”
I decided to throw a grenade. “Okay, so what? We hang out, but if I called it a date, you would stab me?”
Jiro blinked at me. Once. Twice. Then she smirked. “Depends. Are you calling it a date to mess with them or because you actually mean it?”
I grinned. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
She jabbed me in the side with her earjack, hard enough to be a warning, not enough to bleed. “You’re the worst.”
“You are blushing.”
“I will rupture your eardrum.”
“Admit you thought about it.”
She held up two fingers, millimeters apart. “This close.”
Mina was squealing on the couch like it was a soap opera. Kaminari was miming explosions. Sero was already whispering bets to Ojiro.
I turned to Mina and Uraraka, “Why you two are chirpy? I am basically dating other girls.”
Both shrugged at the same time.
Mina popped her gum. “You are like an emotionally constipated gremlin with good shoulders.”
Uraraka nodded. “It is like having a really chaotic cat. We feed you, you glare at us, and occasionally you do something cool.”
Before I could respond with the verbal equivalent of flipping a table, Momo walked by with a book under her arm, not even slowing down. “You are too troublesome to keep. We just babysit you.”
Toru’s voice echoed from across the room. “Facts.”
Then Tsuyu, sipping tea like she had been summoned just to twist the knife: “You shed stress like fur.”
I blinked, mouth open. “Damn. That was cold.”
“Truth hurts,” Kaminari said, grinning.
Sero patted my shoulder like he was consoling a dying man. “It is okay. We still believe in your ability to be emotionally available. Someday. Maybe.”
“I hope you both get paper cuts between your toes.”
Jiro snorted.
I turned to her. “You too?”
She raised a brow. “You require a weekly maintenance crew to deal with your personality. You are a group project, Ryuu. And the group is very tired.”
I opened my mouth. Closed it. “Okay, you know what? Now I am definitely dragging you out.”
Jiro blinked. “Huh?”
I walked to her and grabbed her hand.
"Let’s go."
She blinked. “What-?”
And then she blushed. Full bloom. Redder than Kirishima’s hair in hellfire lighting. She tried to pull her hand back, but I doubled down.
Princess carry.
Her feet left the floor.
Chaos detonated.
“Wha- WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!” Her earjacks went full defense mode, whipping around like angry tentacles, trying to jab out my eyeballs. One nearly took out my beautiful eyes.
“Unhand me, peasant!”
I chuckled. “Nope. I want ice cream. Since you are my caretaker now, let’s go.”
Izuku was in the corner, hands wringing like he was watching a villain abduct someone in slow motion. “W-Wait, are we allowed to...?”
Bakugo snorted, already turning to leave. “Damn horny…”
“IT IS NOT LIKE THAT!” Jiro screeched, punching my shoulder- not hard enough to break bone, but enough to file a complaint.
I adjusted my grip. “It is now. I am emotionally unavailable, remember? I need emotional supervision. That means field trip.”
“I hate you.”
“And yet,” I said, striding toward the door, “you are still in my arms.”
She growled, legitimately growled, like she was half-second from starting a mosh pit with my skull. “Put me down or I swear to every god-”
“Say it.”
“-in the damn pantheon-”
“Say it.”
She hissed through gritted teeth. “This is not a date.”
I smirked. “Never said it was.”
Her face twitched. “You manipulative piece of-!”
Mina popped up behind me. “Get her double chocolate mint! She gets all tsun but she likes it!”
Jiro yelled over my shoulder, “I do not!”
“I heard you humming last time you ate it!” Mina called after us.
Uraraka waved. “Have fun on your non-date!”
Iida held up a finger like he was about to give some deeply philosophical advice. “Remember to respect public decency laws when in close proximity-”
The door slammed behind us before he could finish.
Jiro was still squirming, but she had stopped fighting like a rabid ferret. Her hands were balled up in my hoodie now, face half-buried in the fabric to hide the blush threatening to incinerate her.
We were maybe twenty feet from the dorms when she muttered, “You are so damn dramatic.”
“You say that like it is a bad thing.”
“It is. Normal people text. Or walk.”
“I do not walk. I make statements.”
“You make trauma.”
“Same thing.”
She groaned. “Just… don’t drop me.”
I grinned. “Would never. Your Tsundere Royal Highness.”
“Swear to god-”
“Say ‘I am having fun’ and I will get you a waffle cone.”
Her mouth opened, then snapped shut. Then she muttered, “…It better be mint.”
Victory.
I turned the corner and dropped her near Misery-chan.
She blinked at her like she had just found the Holy Grail covered in engine grease and sexy rage.
“Wait,” Jiro said, walking around the bike like it was a museum piece she wanted to lick. “You drive this?”
The disbelief in her voice made me smirk. The reverence in her eyes? Even better.
“Yeah,” I said, casually swinging one leg over the seat. “But do not tell anyone. Misery-chan is lowkey. Like me.”
She stared at the black frame, the gleam of chrome on the engine, the custom exhaust that purred like a damn demon when I revved her up.
“That is…” she swallowed. “Actually badass.”
Victory. Again.
I handed her my helmet... it was the only one. Not because I was irresponsible. But because I never gave enough of a shit to carry extras.
She hesitated, looking at it like it was holy. “You only have one.”
“Yeah.”
“…So what, I wear it and you die?”
“Pretty much.”
“Why do you have only one helmet, you maniac?”
“Because I never take passengers.”
That shut her up for a second. Then she shoved the helmet on, grumbling, “Still dramatic.”
I revved the engine just to interrupt her. Her grip tightening on my shoulders. Her thighs pressed in on either side of me and...
Nope. Not going there.
She climbed on, settling against my back. Hesitant. Like she wasn’t sure where to put her hands.
I reached behind and grabbed them. Planted them firmly around my waist. “Hold tight. Misery-chan bites.”
“You bite,” she muttered, but she squeezed tighter.
Then I opened the throttle, and we disappeared into the city.
The venue was three blocks away. Old warehouse turned underground concert den. The bouncer was a mountain with tattoos of screaming skulls and a Hello Kitty neck tat that made me genuinely nervous.
He saw me, sighed like the heaviest sigh a man could possibly manage, and muttered, “Ryuu, you are still banned.”
I snorted. “Bro, I have been banned sixteen times already. Seventeen, if we count the hot dog cart incident.”
Jiro turned her head sharply. “Wait. What hot dog cart incident?”
“Trade secret,” I said, stepping up, “But don’t worry. This time, I brought adult supervision.”
The bouncer narrowed his eyes at her, then looked at me. “You’re dragging civilians into this now?”
“She is not a civilian,” I replied. “She listens to shit that sounds like dying robots. She is one of you.”
Jiro, despite herself, looked smug.
The bouncer grunted. “Fix the subwoofers before you leave.”
Jiro perked up instantly. “Fixing subwoofers?”
He nodded, dead serious. “He fixed the rattling too. Show starts in twenty. Go in before I regret this.”
He unhooked the chain and stepped aside. Like we had just been knighted into a very specific cult of noise and bruises.
I saluted. “Love you, Greg.”
“My name is Satoshi.”
“It is Greg now.”
He sighed again.
Inside, the warehouse was already thrumming like a heartbeat. Brick walls, exposed beams, pulsing lights, and the faint metallic scent of body spray, sweat, and teenage rebellion. The band had not started yet, but the stage was stacked with amps tall enough to make God nervous. Jiro’s eyes lit up like she had just walked into a shrine. Her whole posture shifted.
“Holy shit,” she whispered.
I grinned. “Told you. You ever hear of ‘Avenged Too Many Times’?”
“Have I-” she turned to me like I had insulted her entire bloodline. “They’re underground legends. No official releases. Just raw sound. Their drummer fractured someone’s rib from pure decibel pressure last year.”
We slid through the crowd, dodging elbows and denim, until we found a spot just left of center stage, close enough to feel the bass but not so close we would need reconstructive surgery.
Jiro took off the helmet, shook out her hair, and gave me a look that could only be described as mild tolerance dipped in genuine interest.
I leaned against the wall, arms folded. “So. Still not a date?”
“Absolutely not,” she said, deadpan. “You just kidnapped me.”
“And yet you’re smiling.”
She immediately stopped smiling. “I wasn’t.”
“Caught in 4K.”
“I will stab you.”
The lights dimmed. Someone screamed. Probably on purpose.
And then the band walked out.
The first chord hit like a goddamn earthquake. The bass drop slammed through the crowd’s chest like a shotgun made of rhythm. Jiro’s whole body moved in sync, head nodding, foot tapping, lip curling into something dangerous and thrilled. Her earjacks extended unconsciously, twitching to the beat like antennae locked on prey.
She was glowing.
Not the kind of sparkle people wrote love songs about. No, Jiro looked like this was her zone... raw, loud, unapologetically sharp around the edges.
Comments
Marvin Baltes
That was the weirdest harem-approval-decloration i have ever heard, but i don't dislike it.
TheFanficGOD
He been to places, lol
hector lyng
I think Ryuu knows all the remote, dangerous, unknown places in the underground. I think Ryuu lives more in the underworld than on the surface. I think if you asked him where an underworld hospital exists, he'd know.
