Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Wisps of smoke drifted through the warm summer air. He sighed as he leaned back against the railing outside the 7/11, relaxing as he felt nicotine fill his lungs. Unruly lavender hair shifted as a gust of cool air blew through the street. 

‘Fuckin nice. Nothing better than standing outside a convenience store at 20:00 dreading to go home.’ He thought bitterly. He pulled out his phone, a depressing “10%” blinking at the top right of his screen, and the late hour staring back at him. No notifications. No missed calls or texts. Nothing from his friends, or his parents. 

‘Almost like I don’t even exis-‘

“Shinsou?”

His back stiffened immediately and his body tensed. Bitterness raced on his tongue as the filter of the cigarette squished between his lips and he quickly pulled it out of his mouth. His eyes darted over to where his name was called. The voice was familiar but he couldn’t immediately place it.

’Fuck what if it’s my classmates? Or a teacher? Fuck, fuck I’m so screwed. Fucking-‘

Green hair and a curious pair of green eyes greeted him. Standing a couple feet away wasn’t a teacher, or necessarily a classmate. Just the kid who had broken his fingers and shoulder slammed him into concrete a few weeks earlier at the Sports Festival. 

He blinked.

”Midoriya?”

And blinked again. 

He sat up straight. A tattered backpack slung around his shoulder. A cigarette between his fingers. Leaning against a railing outside a damned 7/11 in the middle of the evening. What was he? A delinquent? A runaway?

’Not that that’s far from the truth but...’

”Uhh...” 

He saw as Midoriya’s eyes flickered between him and the cigarette in his hand. 

“I didn’t know you smoked.” Was all he said.

Shinsou snorted in response as he dropped it and stomped it out. A waste, in his opinion, because it had took him three tries with his worn out lighter to get it lit. 

“Bad habit, I guess.” Was all he responded. 

He then saw the other boy’s eyes flicker to his bag. He wasn’t sure why, but just seeing his expression as his green eyes darted around, analyzing him, had made the purple haired boy extremely self-conscious.

”Is there a reason why you’re out so late?...”

He shrugged. Of course there was. There was nothing for him at his empty apartment. His parents both took extra shifts at work, not even bothering to tell him. Earlier, he had walked in to an empty house, saw a messily scrawled out note on the table (as if they had thought about it last minute), and walked right out again.

”I see...”

Midoriya’s voice was soft, as if understanding. 

’What the hell could he understand though? He’s got a perfect physical quirk. I bet his parents are in a loving relationship. And he probably lives in a huge house with fuckin silk furniture.’

”I’m just headed home right now. I had to stop by the store to pick up some last minute groceries for my mom.”

Shinsou nodded, not sure where he was going with this.

”We’re having gyudon...”

He nodded again, his fingers finding his hoodie pocket and thumbing at his pack of cigarettes.

”And if you want to come over, you’re completely welcome to.”

He stiffened again. Frozen. He looked over at Midoriya with wide eyes. What was he playing at? Was this some sort of joke? A prank? Pity maybe? Did he think he was some charity case? What did he want from him? 

“Are you... are you serious right now?”

The green haired boy looked at him confused. “Of course I am. Do you want to come over for dinner?”

His nail scraped against the plastic wrapped around the pack of cigarettes. His foot tapped anxiously against the concrete of the sidewalk. His eyes searched for any signs of pity or teasing in Midoriya’s posture or expression.

Unfortunately, he found none.

’It’s so much easier dealing with assholes. I can’t handle niceness.’

”You don’t have to accept, of course! I just... you seemed a bit lonely, and it’s late, and you’re not home, and I guess? You don’t really seem like you want to go home and I just assumed that you might want to come over for dinner or something but I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions like that. I mean, we barely know each other and the last time we spoke you brainwashed me and I threw you over my shoulder, sorry for that by the way and-“

”Midoriya.”

He jumped as his rambling was cut off.

”Y-yes?”

”Which way is your house?”

He cursed at his heart for fluttering as he saw a soft smile work it’s way unto the other boy’s face.

’Fuck you, feelings. Stupid shithead.’

As they walked down the dimly lit streets, Shinsou sighed and pulled out the slightly bent box of cigarettes from his hoodie pocket. Shaking the box lightly, ‘Gotta wake up the cancer,’ he thought, he turned to the shorter boy next to him. “Do you mind if I...?”

Midoriya glanced over and shook his head. “No, no! Feel free. I mean... it’s not really good for your health and all. Especially if you’re trying to be a hero and get into the hero course, but it’s your body and your choice so feel fre-“

”Midoriya.”

”Right! Rambling! Sorry.”

Shinsou glanced down at the pack in his hand. He grinned. “Bad habit huh?”

Midoriya let a shy smile grace his face, his hand not holding a bag of groceries going up to scratch the back of his neck nervously.

”Yeah.”

He quietly stuffed the box back into his pocket, choosing to scratch at the plastic for the rest of the walk than to smoke.

He tried to ignore another flutter in his stomach when he saw Midoriya’s eyes light up. 

Chapter Text

‘Well if this isn’t the literal definition of awkward, I must have failed literature.’

Shinsou stood awkwardly in the doorway of his green haired companion’s humble abode. He didn’t know exactly what he expected as he walked up the flight of stairs of the apartment complex, but it certainly wasn’t this.

‘So much for huge house with silk furniture, huh asshole?’ He thought berating himself.

He toed off his shoes, nervously picking at the packaging of the box in his pocket, and followed Midoriya who was gesturing for him to come in. 

“Mom, I’m home!”

As they walked through the hallway into the living room, Shinsou looked around curiously. A couch and matching chair. A coffee table. A television set, with a game console and a couple of DVDs stacked beside it. A couple of shelves and accent tables set up against the wall, littered with pictures and normal house stuff.

’How... sickeningly simple and domestic.’

He saw Midoriya wander off to the side, entering the kitchen and greeting his mother. He glanced around the corner of the door way to see the boy enthusiastically hold up the bag of groceries.

”I’ve brought the goods!”

’Oh. Perfect.’

He entered the kitchen and stood beside his acquaintance. Bowing respectfully and then raising to tower over the woman, he introduced himself. Completely stoic and blank-faced, he spoke.

”Nice to meet you, Midoriya-san. I’m the goods.”

Midoriya’s blush and stammer were completely worth embarrassing himself in front of the boy’s mother.

“M-mom, this is Shinsou Hitoshi! He’s the brainwashing one I fought at the Sports Festival!”

She smiled at him, and at her sons’ reaction. 

“A pleasure to finally meet you, Shinsou-kun! Izuku rambles on fondly about the battles from the Sports Festival, and about how useful your quirk would be in the field!”

Hitoshi found himself blushing lightly from the statement, not used to the attention or the compliment.

”Mom!” 

‘Shit, glad I’m not the only one embarrassed, then.’

An amused grin worms itself unto his face as he saw Izuku usher his mom to the counter and unpack the groceries for preparation and cooking. Sighing gratefully that she was distracted, Midoriya turned back to him and smiled nervously. 

“Sorry about that, she loves embarrassing me in front of my friends. Last time Uraraka and Iida-kun were over, she showed them old home videos and pictures while I was making tea.”

Shinsou snorted.

”To be fair, I don’t even know if I have any baby pictures or home videos.”

That... he didn’t mean to say that. 

He looked away from Midoriya’s curious glance, taking sudden interest in the floor.

’Fuck. Yep. It’s official, Hitoshi. You’re a fucking mess.’

Thankfully, the green haired boy didn’t bring it up, instead choosing to drag him back to the living room to set his stuff down. Awkwardly, he put his tattered backpack down on the side of the sofa, taking a stiff seat on the couch. 

What was he suppose to do? How many times has he been to a friends house for dinner? Or been to a friends house in general?

He pulled out his phone from his pocket, choosing to revel in Neko Atsume: Cat Collector than bask in his anxiety. He felt the couch dip beside him. 

“I know this is probably weird for you right now...”

He nervously glances at the time on his phone, tapping away at the screen.

”I’m... kind of nervous right now too, so it’s okay.” 

Shinsou pauses for a second. 

“Sorry... Fuck, I’m sorry.” His eyes find the clock again.

 ‘20:48’ 

Anxiety fills his gut as “No Notifications” states back at him. That was how it was supposed to be. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Not in Midoriya’s home. Not meeting his mother or sitting on his couch. 

“No Noticications”

He was supposed to be uncaring. Stoic. Non-fucking-existent. 

“I shouldn’t... I shouldn’t be here.”

He shoves his phone in his pocket and his mind fills with fuzz. His fingers find that damn box again in his hoodie pocket, clawing at the packaging.

”I should probably go. Thanks for bringing me here, but it’s best if I don’t stay.”

fuck. Fuck. Why didn’t he just say no earlier? Why didn’t he just finish his smoke in front of that shitty convenience store and head back to that empty house? Why did he choose to come here? 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck-

A warm hand finds his and he startles slightly. His vision clears as he’s shocked back to reality. His breath sounds ragged.

’Fuck... I didn’t even realize...’

”Sorry,” he hears from the boy in front of him, “I didn’t... I didn’t know...” 

Why the fuck does Midoriya look so damn guilty? 

“We aren’t... you... you weren’t supposed to.”  He manages to mumble out lamely. 

’Nice ‘“cool” act, idiot. Fuck, you’re so fucking lame-‘

He startles out of his thinking again when he hears a call from the kitchen. “Dinner will be ready soon, boys!”

It’s then, they both realize, that they’re still holding hands. In the middle of the living room. 

Midoriya lets his hand drop as if he was burned and goes to scratch the back of his neck nervously, stuttering out apologies.

”S-sorry! If- I mean, you don’t have to stay or anything! I’m- sorry- sorry I kind of- Sorry- You can head home if you don’t feel comfortable! I just- like I said earlier, I guess, saw you and I thought you looked lonely and I didn’t even think- Oh shoot, what about your parents! I’m sorry! I didn’t even think about your parents! Are they going to be worried? Do you have to-“

”Midoriya.”

Well, this seems familiar.

Midoriya’s mouth shuts, but his frame still shakes anxiously, his mind running a mile a minute. 

Somehow, seeing how the green haired boy was just as, if not more nervous than he was, makes his anxiety ease up and his mind clearer. 

“Sorry-“

“You don’t need to apologize so much, you know? Earlier was my fault. I shouldn’t... I shouldn’t have panicked like that.”

He feels a bit of guilt eat at his gut. Midoriya’s expression changes from anxious to... something indescribable. Something... sad, almost.

He goes to apologize again, when another call rings from the kitchen.

”Dinner is ready, boys!”

That makes his jaw snap shut.

”I’m... gonna go wash up.”

”And I’m going to get some fresh air for a second. Excuse me.”

With that being said, he turns from the shorter boy and heads for the door. He doesn’t bother to slip on his shoes, choosing to step unto the balcony type entrance in his socks, and leaves the door slightly ajar. 

‘Fuck. I need a smoke.’

And so smoke is what he did. He leans against the railing, arms crossed, cigarette dangling between his lips. It takes a couple tries like before to get it lit, but the burn in his lungs is a welcome familiarity. He relaxes as the loud fuzz in his mind ceases to a dull buzz, and smoke dances through the night air. A cool breeze brings itself through the balcony  and across his skin. He’s about half way done with his cigarette when it’s snatched from in between his lips, and when he realizes that he isn’t alone. 

‘Okay well this time, I can be genuinely scared.’

Panic fills his gut as he meets the disappointed, yet unsurprised gaze of Midoriya Inko. 

“M-Midoriya-san, I’m so sorr-“

”I’ve come to notice kids your age smoke for either two reasons.” She interrupts him mid-apology. Looking away and putting out the cigarette, she continues. “Either they’re rebelling against their parents and think it’s cool,” he grimaces at that, “Or, like many who become addicted to nicotine, it’s a cheap way and easy to deal with stress.”

He looks away guiltily.

“If I can take anything from what I heard earlier, I’m going to guess it’s the latter.”

His head is already down mid bow when he hears this and freezes. 

Midoriya’s mother is surprisingly, or unsurprisingly, perceptive and analytical. 

This learned fact does nothing for the anxiety making his fingers itch and tremble.

“I’m-“

”Shinsou-kun,” a warm, welcoming hand finds and threads through his hair lightly, “You’re more than welcome here anytime, but no more of this,” she holds up the burnt out cigarette butt, ”when you’re here, okay?”

His mind buzzes, her words ringing in his ears like western church bells on a Sunday morning. His scalp burns as her gentle fingers leave his lilac hair. 

Shinsou bows deeply.

”...Yes ma’am. Thank you.”

When he looks up, her smile reminds him of a word he’s long forgotten.

Home.

Chapter Text

After apologizing to Midoriya-san again, Shinsou headed inside, cheeks stained a bashful pink. He tried not to demean himself too much though, especially with her words ringing through his head.

”You’re more than welcome here anytime...” 

He ran his long fingers through his hair, missing the affection the woman showed him earlier. 

How long has it been since someone told him that he was welcome? How long has it been since someone ruffled his hair like a child? How long has it been since someone acted like they cared? 

Besides today and the acts of the two green haired angels of the household, much too long.

’Not that I deserve the affection or care anyway. I’m a snarky asshole with a nicotine addiction and a mouth that can’t keep shut.’

Shinsou walked through the living room and entered the kitchen. The lovely smell of freshly steamed rice and soy sauce marinated beef filled the room and he spotted Midoriya at the counter. The boy stood on his tiptoes, in his All Might colored socks, reaching for the top shelf of the cabinet in front of him. Shinsou snorted quietly, taking in the scene and then strolling up behind the shorter boy. 

He reaches up, past Midoriya’s hand, pressing himself into the other boy’s back, and grabs the shallow bowls that are oh-so conveniently placed out of reach. 

Hitoshi glances down, soaking up the sight of flushed, tan cheeks, splattered with freckles, and glossy, forest green eyes. He snuffed down the skip in his heart and the flutter in his stomach. 

“Need some help?”

Oh yeah, definitely a snarky asshole that can’t keep his mouth shut.

The pink tint on both boys cheeks and ears didn’t ease up, especially through dinner where they were sitting right next to each other. The glint of mischief in Midoriya-san’s eyes definitely indicated that she knew something was up too.

”So, Shinsou-kun, do your parents know you’re here for dinner? And do you plan on staying the night? It’s getting pretty late already...”

This... this made Hitoshi freeze up, chopsticks half way up to his mouth. 

“Oh fuck.”

He must’ve muttered it allowed by the look Midoriya shot him from his side. For now though, that didn’t matter. 

Because he forget to fucking tell his parents.

He barely registered the chopsticks clattering onto the bowl out of his hands, as his vision became hazy and his mind scattered.

’How could I have forgotten? I was so worried about being here, I forgot where here was. Not my fucking house. Oh fuck. I’m going to be in so much fucking trouble when I get home.”

His mind raced and knots formed in his stomach.

’Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! I kept checking the time, not realizing how late it was. Oh god. Oh fuck I’m so screwed. Theyre probably home from work by now. They’re going to-‘

”Shinsou-kun...”

A warm hand cupped his cheek gently, bringing him back into reality and out of his thoughts. His eyes snapped up, meeting the two extremely worried faces of his hosts. He felt strong fingers wrapped around his wrists, and stinging pain down his forearms.

Looking back down, angry red marks glared at him, constrasting pale skin. 

His anxiety only grew worse at seeing this, fingers twitching and trembling. 

“Fuck... fuck... Not again...”

He could hear himself stammering this out, followed by broken apologies.

‘Useless. Stupid fucking idiot. Getting worked up something so stupid and blanking out in front of such kind people? Idiot! You deserve whatever punishment dad’s going to give you. Idiot. Fucking idiot. So fucking worthless.’

”Shinsou-kun, please.”

Hitoshi looked up again, shame written over his face. He didn’t see any disgust or appalled affection on Midoriya or his mothers’ face. Only worry.

Somehow, that made it so much worse.

Midoriya’s mother stood up abruptly. 

‘Better sooner than later to get kicked out, I suppose.’

”Hitoshi-kun, where’s your phone?”

Wait, what?

Confused, his shaking hands pulled it out of his hoodie pocket. 

A determined expression made its way unto the woman’s face as she took the phone from his hands.

”I will talk to your parents, Hitoshi-kun. Please, stay the night. It’s a weekend, so it shouldn’t be a problem for you.”

Hitoshi-kun? And she’ll do what?

He stammered, brain trying to form a coherent response, which was impossible because what do you even say to that? 

He felt Midoriya tug at his wrists and looked at him. 

The green haired boy flashed a smile, “Believe me when I say this Shinsou, but my mom is really persuasive. Let us do this for you. And let me help you clean those scratches.”

He couldn’t bring himself to do anything more than nod dumbly, allowing Midoriya to drag him out of his seat and lead him down the hall to the bathroom. He sat down on the edge of the tub as Midoriya searched through the cabinet. 

His mind is blank as he watches Midoriya grasp his arm gently, using a cotton swap drenched in peroxide to clean up the scratches threatening to open. 

He kind of wishes they would. Pain cutting into his arms, red liquid copper dripping down his wrists, trailing off of each of his fingers, leaving pretty red dots speckled on the white tile floor. That’s what he deserves. 

A no good quirk, a no good body, a no good mind. Why was he trying so hard to be a hero again? 

Hitoshi only realizes he’s drowning in his thoughts when he’s snapped out of them by the slight sting of the peroxide slithering it’s way into the cuts down his arm. 

When Midoriya’s done and let’s go of his gentle grasp of his wrists and damnit he swears he doesn’t miss the contact, he tugs off his hoodie. He ignores the dangerous rattle of the pack in his pocket.

”I’m sorry. Again. For all of this.”

Midoriya looks at him curiously, innocently. 

God, fuck he was a mess wasn’t he?

”You should’ve just left me in front of that store after all, huh?”

Hitoshi manages a grin, one that makes him feel sick to his stomach. 

Midoriya doesn’t grin back.

”Shinsou, I don’t... I don’t know what your home life is like. I’m not going to ask or pry because even though I know I have a habit of sticking my nose into places I shouldn’t, it doesn’t seem like something you want to talk about.”

Midoriya stands up, determination filling his face, and Shinsou can’t help but think how similar him and his mother look and act.

”But! Seeing you in front of that convenience store, looking so lonely and... and sad...”

Midoriya’s hands clench at his sides and his teeth grind together. 

“What type of hero would I be if I let you stay there? What type of friend would I be to ignore you?”

”But we aren’t-“

”I know! I know that...”

Green eyes meet purple. Hitoshi feels guilt pool in his gut at the expression of the other boy. 

“I know that we aren’t friends. But you...”

He stops for a moment.

”You’re so impressive, and smart and strong and...”

His eyes widened and pink blossomed on the other boys’ cheeks. 

“And Shinsou... Hitoshi...”

He breathed in sharply when he heard his given name. Midoriya’s eyes glossed over.

”I really want to be friends with you! I want to help you!”

Midoriya squatted down, leaning forward on the balls of his heels, bringing his hands up to cup Hitoshi’s face. 

He felt tears well up in his eyes, seeing the pained expression in the boy in front of him. 

“Is...is that okay?”

’Maybe... Maybe I can have this. Maybe this time it’ll be okay...’

He sniffed, trying to hold in tears before he embarrassed himself more tonight. 

He nodded, finally, reaching up and clutching Midoriya’s tan hand. 

“Yeah... that’s... that’s definitely okay.”

When he looked back up at him, he was nearly blinded by the wide smile that met him. 

‘This time... this time doesn’t seem so bad.’

For once in his teenage life, Shinsou felt no urge or twitch to reach for the green package he knew sat so dangerously close.

Chapter Text

The futon in Midoriya’s room didn’t take long to set up. Dinner was long forgotten and no one had much of an appetite after what had occurred earlier, much less Shinsou. The sheet of the futon was coated lightly with dust, and the pillows still had their “freshly bought” fluff to them. Both him and Midoriya sat down in the All Might decorated room, weights and other fitness and hero related items placed away in the room. A slightly awkward, but comfortable silence filled the room. Shinsou fidgeted with his hands and the hem of his oversized shirt, the collar a bit stretched and small holes littering the chest from overusage. Small bandaids pepper his forearms, popping against his pale skin with bright colors. He grinned a little, seeing as Midoriya picked more colors than he knew what to do with. Thinking back, the bathroom seemed to be filled to the brim with medical supplies. He remembers seeing at least two distinct first aid kits from the cabinet the green haired boy pulled the peroxide from, and at least 4 different sized gauze packets in the other side where he pulled the bandaids from. 

‘Clumsiness maybe? He definitely seems the type.’

He’s interrupted from his thoughts when he hears a gentle rap on the door. It’s pushed open slowly, Mido- Inko-san poking her face into the room. 

“Hitoshi-kun, I spoke with your parents. They’ve given you permission to stay the night and the following morning.”

Shinsou could feel his jaw drop a bit. 

“You’re kidding?”

He could see out of his peripheral a 1,000-watt smile light up Midoriya’s face, and a gentle one overtake Inko-san’s. He was handed his phone back and he stared at it laying in his hands. 

‘You’re kidding me...’

He looked between the two green haired angels. 

He looked down at the phone and clicked the home button.

’No New Notifications’

’21:47’

He blinked at the screen. The screen blinked back at him.

’Oh well shit, I guess you’re not.’

Shinsou raised his head to face the older Midoriya, standing idly in the doorway. He almost felt tears well up in his eyes at the utmost affection and parental care he saw grace her expression. He bowed deeply for what felt like the millionth time tonight.

”Thank you” was all he could breath out without his voice cracking. 

“Shinsou-kun?”

The room was dark. Only a sliver of moonlight shone through the small window against the wall. He could see the bookshelf in the corner next to the desk lit up, bathed in pale lumination.

”Oh, back to Shinsou again, Midoriya?”

He could almost feel the embarrassment radiate from the bed beside him as Midoriya stammered.

”I’m kidding, what’s up?”

He heard Midoriya shuffle, probably to turn over and face him. 

“I-I was wondering if you... were still trying to transfer to the hero course...?”

He took a deep inhale. So that type of question, huh?

He shrugged his shoulders, the sheets rustling, and sat up. The blankets pooled around his knees and his shoulders slouched. 

“You might not remember from the Sports Festival... you were probably more set on ignoring me than listening to what I was saying while I was trying to get you to respond, but my quirk...” He paused for a moment. “People don’t really take my quirk kindly, you know?” His bony fingers raised to the back of his neck, scratching at purple edges laid flat now by the pillow. “People didn’t talk to me much in elementary or middle school, or if they did it would usually be comments of how much villainous stuff I could do if I wanted to.” He chuckled bitterly. “‘Oh, Shinsou, you could totally get the teacher to tell you all the answers for the quiz tomorrow!’, ‘Man, if I had a quirk like yours, I would have all the money in the world’, or ‘Yuki-chan definitely wouldn’t have rejected me if I had a quirk like yours.’” He could hear Midoriya breath sharply with that one. A well understood reaction. 

“I don’t...” 

His fingers lowered to clench the sheets at his knees.

”I don’t want to be a villain, Midoriya. I got into the top hero school in the country, after all, even if it was for the general studies course.”

He continued, letting a small smile creep onto his face.

”When all my classmates were cheering for me after I got beat by you, it was the first time in years that anyone was proud of me for something. I never planned on making friends at U.A. I still don’t even though...”

He glanced at Midoriya, who was now also sitting up, smiling sheepishly. 

Shinsou sat up straight. “I want to be a hero.”

”You can’t help what your heart longs for after all, right?”

He froze at hearing that.

”I was...” he turned to Midoriya, watching as he pushed his hands together nervously, trying to figure out what exactly to say.

”I can relate to you, Shinsou-kun.”

Midoriya turned slightly to face him fully. 

“I wanted so badly to talk to you during that match. I wanted to tell you how much I can relate, and how much I understand what you were saying.”

Shinsou couldn’t help but feel a flare of anger in him. 

“What do you mean you can rela-“

”I didn’t always have a quirk.”

He froze immediately.

What?

”I-I was... for a lot of...” Midoriya stuttered and tripped over his words, obviously not meaning to blurt that out. “I... my quirk was a... mutation. I didn’t get it until just before the entrance exam... something about my body not being physically strong enough to handle it. T-that’s why my bones shatter and my muscles split whenever I use it...”

That... that explains quite a bit about the gnarly turning of skin color and blood in all those match ups.

”For all of my childhood, I thought I was quirkless. And not just me...”

He could just make out Midoriya’s eyes shift to the side, but he could definitely feel the change in tone and atmosphere of the room.

”All my friends turned against me. My classmates didn’t want anything to do with me... Even my best friend, Kac-“ He paused, “Katsuki, made fun of me and pushed me around after they found out.”

Izuku grinned painfully.

”When we were younger and Katsuki was the only one of us that could read well, he found out that the first two letters of my name read out ‘Deku’, which basically means useless...”

Shinsou could feel guilt weigh heavily in his gut. All those past assumptions and accusations he threw around during their fight, and in his mind earlier were coming back to him.

”Fitting for a kid with no quirk, who followed his bullies around like a kicked dog, right?”

He didn’t know what to say after that. A heavy, weighted silence filled the dark room. They both sat in their respective mattresses, guilt and grief settled on their shoulders. A few minutes pass before Midoriya breaks the silence once again.

”Shinsou-kun?”

He hums in reply.

”I know we don’t see each other much in the hallways at school... but..”

”I won’t ignore you. We’re friends now, aren’t we, Mr. First-name-basis?”

As if his eyes needed anymore abuse from lack of sleep, Midoriya’s smile lights up the room. He hopes his smile isn’t creepy, because he can’t help but send one back.

(And hey, if THE Eraserhead approaches him the following week with a training and conditioning schedule in hand and a worn out but obviously interested look on his face, he definitely does not chalk it up to this new friendship... and if he decides to visit Midoriya’s house the following day with ingredients for katsudon and for once not smelling or carrying cigarettes, then that’s none of your fucking business.)