Chapter 17: The Keyboard Warriors and the Classy Critic
[A/N: My girl and I have been obsessed with Mario games lately, but man, why do they have to cost an arm and a leg? 💸
On another note, I'm looking to get 3 more ratings on this fic—if you're enjoying the story, I'd really appreciate the help! I don't care about rankings or using Power Stones to "buy" chapters; I just want to see if you guys like what I'm writing. So if you're having a good time, leave a comment and drop some stones!]
[Sunny Midoriya POV]
I was currently floating cross-legged in the middle of my room, which I had rearranged to look like a high-end streaming studio. I didn't use furniture; I just grabbed a bunch of pixels out of the air and shaped them into a neon desk and a hovering webcam. [CLICK-WHIRR-BEEP].
"Welcome, welcome, to the 'Calamity Class' Post-Viral Hangout!" I chirped at the lens, my eyes turning into two literal spinning 'Like' buttons. "We've got the whole crew here today to address the allegations that we are, in fact, a danger to public sanity!"
The "Crew" was scattered around the room in various states of digital fatigue. Toga was managing the live-chat feed, her face illuminated by the scrolling text of three million viewers. Izuku was acting as the 'Moderator,' frantically deleting any comments that were too "spicy" for a hero-in-training. Bakugo was sitting in the corner, his arms crossed, looking like he wanted to punch the very concept of the internet.
"First order of business!" I announced, snapping my fingers. A giant chat box appeared in the air behind me. "ROAST SESSION! We're taking comments from the fans and the haters, and we're serving them back with a side of Toon-Justice!"
"This is stupid," Bakugo growled.
"Shush, Drummer-Boy! Your fishnets are the only reason we're trending!" I winked. "Toga, give me a good one!"
[Himiko Toga POV]
"Here's a good one!" I giggled, pointing at a comment from @BakugoHater_42.
"Is the blonde kid on the drums always that angry, or does he just have a permanent wedgie?"
"OI!" Bakugo roared, lunging for the camera. "I'll blast your IP address into the next century, you coward! Step outside and say that to my face!"
"Bakugo, no! That's against the Hero Conduct Code!" Izuku squeaked, trying to hold him back.
"Here's one for Kaminari," Mina chirped, leaning over my shoulder. @ElectricSimp says: "Does the yellow kid realize his guitar solo was actually just him vibrating uncontrollably while drooling?"
"Hey!" Kaminari shouted, looking offended. "That was technique! It's called 'The High-Voltage Tremolo'! And the drool was... it was special effects! Right, Jirou?"
Jirou didn't even look up from her phone. "No, you definitely just short-circuited your brain, Sparky. It was the most honest part of the performance."
"BURRRRRRRRN!" Mina and I cheered together.
"The abyss does not care for your 'likes'," Tokoyami muttered from the shadows, though Dark Shadow was secretly heart-ing every comment that mentioned how 'cool and mysterious' it looked.
"Silence, Puddle!" Aqua yelled at a commenter who called her 'The High-Definition H2O.' "I am a Goddess! I am not a 'visual effect'! If I see one more person call me a 'living humidifier,' I will personally flood your basements!"
[Sunny Midoriya POV]
The chat was a blur of chaos, but then, a comment caught my eye. It wasn't like the others. It wasn't a meme, a roast, or a thirsty fan-mail. It was... a paragraph.
@Creative_Composition_100: "While the visual presentation was certainly... disruptive, I find the polyphonic dissonance in the bridge of the AJR cover to be technically flawed. The transition from G-sharp to the C-major chord was rushed, and the 'Toon' percussion—while impressive—lacked the structural integrity required for a truly classical resonance. It was entertaining, but musically illiterate."
I froze. My eyes didn't just widen; they turned into two giant, old-school telescopes that extended toward the screen. [ZOOM!]
"Musically illiterate?" I whispered, my voice echoing as if I were in a cathedral. "Who is this? Who dares use 'structural integrity' in a conversation about a song featuring a five-ton anvil?"
"Oh, that person has been commenting all night," Izuku said, looking at the handle. "They've been leaving very detailed critiques on everyone's posture, rhythm, and equipment. They sound... really smart. And rich. Their profile says they're a 'Student of the Fine Arts'."
I leaned into the camera, my face filling the entire screen of three million people.
"Listen here, @Creative_Composition_100!" I barked, a cartoon mustache appearing on my face as I took on a 'Serious Maestro' persona. "Art isn't about 'structural integrity'! It's about the vibe! It's about the feeling you get when a drum solo makes your ears bleed glitter! You're probably one of those 'classical' snobs who thinks a piano only has 88 keys because that's what the manual says!"
The reply was instant.
@Creative_Composition_100: "A piano has 88 keys because that is the standard for a reason. To add a 89th key that plays the sound of a 'honking duck,' as you did in the 2:14 mark, is not 'vibe.' It is a narrative crime against Mozart."
"A CRIME?!" I gasped, clutching my chest as my body turned black-and-white for dramatic effect. "Mina! Give me the 'Tragic Hero' lighting! Jirou, give me a sad violin!"
"Do it yourself, Gag-Boy," Jirou rolled her eyes.
"Fine!" I snapped back to color. I typed back with four-fingered speed: "Mozart would have LOVED the duck-key! He was a prankster! You're just repressed! You're sitting in your big, fancy house, surrounded by tea and textbooks, and you're AFRAID of the noise!"
@Creative_Composition_100: "I am not 'repressed.' I am articulate. There is a difference. And my house is quite comfortable, thank you."
I grinned. I knew this type. This person—whoever they were—was bored. They were hiding behind a wall of logic because they didn't know how to let the chaos in. I didn't know who they were in the real world (I'm a toon, not a doxxer), but I knew their soul.
"Alright, 'Creative'! If you're so smart and 'articulate,' why are you arguing with a guy in white gloves on a Tuesday night?" I typed. "You need a hobby that isn't correcting my chords. You need to feel the thrill of the chase! The agony of the blue shell!"
@Creative_Composition_100: "I do not follow your meaning."
"I'm talking about Mario Kart World, you elitist nerd!" I shouted at the webcam. "The full VR-immersion setup! The one with the hydraulic seats, the wind-simulators, and the literal banana-peel dispensers! I'm challenging you! Tomorrow! High Noon (or after school)!"
"Sunny, that setup costs like... three million yen," Izuku whispered.
"Don't worry, Izu-chan. Something tells me this person's credit card has no limit."
@Creative_Composition_100: "I find video games to be a frivolous waste of cognitive resources. However... your insistence that I am 'repressed' is statistically unfounded. Very well. I shall acquire the necessary equipment. It shall be delivered by morning. Do not expect mercy. I have already calculated the optimal racing lines for every track."
"OH, IT IS ON!" I cheered, jumping up and doing a mid-air somersault. [BOING!] "Chaos vs. Creation! Toon vs. Textbook! See you on the track, @Creative_Composition_100!"
I cut the stream with a giant 'THE END' circle closing in on my face. [SHLOP].
[The Yaoyorozu Residence - Momo POV]
I sat in my darkened study, the glow of my multi-monitor setup reflecting off my tea cup. My heart was beating slightly faster than the recommended 72 beats per minute.
"Repressed?" I whispered to the empty, marble-floored room. "I am not repressed. I am... structured."
I looked at the screen where the "Sunny" character had been mocking me. He was loud, illogical, and his eyes had literally turned into telescopes. It was the most fascinatingly annoying thing I had ever encountered.
I tapped my chin, then reached for my phone. "Alfred? Yes, please order the 'Mario Kart World: Ultimate Immersion' package. All of it. The haptic suit, the steering rig, and the wind-induction fans. Have it installed in the West Wing by tomorrow morning."
I paused.
"And Alfred? Please find a tutorial on 'How to use a Blue Shell effectively.' It seems I have a 'Narrative Crime' to avenge."
I leaned back, a small, uncharacteristic smirk tugging at my lips.
"Chaos, you've met your match in Creation."
[Sunny Midoriya POV]
Back in my room, the crew was staring at me.
"You just convinced a random rich person to spend a fortune on a racing game so you can argue with them?" Kaminari asked, impressed.
"Not just a person, Sparky," I grinned, snapping on my white gloves. "A Rival. And tomorrow, we're going to show her that in the world of Mario Kart... there is no 'structural integrity.' There is only the BOOM!"
Toga giggled, already setting up the recording gear for tomorrow. "I hope she's cute, Sunny-kun. I want to see what she looks like when she loses!"
"Me too, Toga-chan," I laughed. "Me too."
CLACK!