All scenes with only MHA characters will be written in English, for ease of reading, but the characters are actually speaking Japanese to each other.
"This sentence is in English, but shhh." This is for when the scene is from a Japanese character's POV and they don't understand English, or, if they understand some words, those are not underlined.
"Dialogue in Japanese that is getting translated in real-time." If all words are in bold, the English character can understand everything that is being spoken in Japanese.
Author's Note:
Hey Guys! Finished this chapter so soon because I already had like 70% of it written. Woot! Wanted to post before I went on vacation. :3
Thursday, September 13th
12:39 pm
Heat.
A shatter.
Hummmmm.
Lunch Rush blinked his eyes hard, trying to realign his thoughts as the air raid sirens competed for his attention with the seafood explosion.
The man had been alone in the kitchen, prepping meals to be carted out to the student's individual classrooms when she'd attacked. He knew he was outgunned, if their last encounter was anything to go by, but he could at least stall.
The chef refocused on the woman, finally shaking off the effects of over-stimulus. Lithely dodging yet another fist made of meat, Lunch Rush activated his quirk to slow his surroundings.
This should be easy compared to preparing thousands of meals in a drought, right? A light spar in thirty-eight degrees? That was nothing.
The villain lifted her arms skyward. A cloud of black, dense smoke billowed up toward the now non-existent skylight as the room rose another seven degrees and the older female's hair caught fire.
No wait. It was fire.
Blue licks of flame shot from the Nomu's scalp as if someone turned up the dial on a kitchen torch, the air shimmering around the unwavering blaze.
That didn't look good.
Securing his metal mask more tightly to his face as the smoke reached him, Lunch Rush snapped open the front of his double-breasted jacket. Several insanely-sharp knives withdrew, positioned between his knuckles like kunai.
UA's head cook sent them flying toward his opponent but it was no more effective than dumping oil on coals. A wall of shrimp rose up, taking the staccato of impacts like toothpicks in a foam ceiling.
Then the woman's scarlet eyes darkened until they were swallowed in ebony, matching the caustic vapor filling the room.
"I CURSE YOUR FOOD TO TASTE FOREVER OF ASH!"
The raucous bellow shook the furniture, setting metal legs and ceramic pots to rattling. Then the smoke started to thin, the sharp, chemical scent of burning plastic dulling considerably.
Relieved that his air filter was finally keeping up enough to cut the smell, Lunch Rush readied himself for the next attack, pulling a pepper shaker filled with mace out from under his hat.
It was only then that his mouth went dry, heating considerably until it abruptly tasted like he'd licked a briquette.
Thursday, September 13th
12:40 pm
Bakugo pushed from the window frame he'd so desperately been hanging on to, launching himself into the hazy cafeteria.
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