Chapter Text
So,” Kaminari started, as they loaded off the bus, falling into step next to Shinsou, “What do you do for fun?”
“Brood.”
Kaminari smiled, “Yeah? You just sit in a dark room and think of ways to trick us all in the next hero training.”
“That’s plotting, I said brooding.” Shinsou corrected.
“Oh, you’re right. So- you sit in a dark room and, what- wish your life was better?”
Shinsou snorted, shaking his head, “Pretty much.”
Kaminari tilted his head, eyeing Shinsou like he knew something, “Is that a lie?”
“Obviously.” He huffed, “Sometimes I have homework.”
“What do you do when you’re not doing homework?”
“Brood.”
Kaminari rolled his eyes, leaning back, “Do you draw?”
“What’re you a cop?”
“What’re you a criminal?” Kaminari snapped back, “It’s a simple question. What’re you so afraid of?”
“Questions like that.”
“I play video games mostly,” He answered, “curate playlists, origami, as you know, doom scroll.” He slapped Shinsou’s arm, “Sometimes I go for walks!”
“Kaminari,” Shinsou huffed, cutting him off, “You know I’m just going to brainwash you the second we end up on opposite teams, right? You’re capable of basic fucking pattern recognition.”
Kaminari tilted his head, a dopey smile across his face, “Of course I know that.”
“Then shut up.”
He laughed.
“You are asking a lot of me.”
“Am I?”
“You’ll get me anyway. I’ll just tell my team I’m a safety hazard, really what else is new, and this way I can keep annoying you.”
“You know our heroics is being graded too, you should care at least a little.”
“I do care! Just-” He shrugged, “I’m also not stupid. At least completely. You have nowhere to go, you have to talk to me right now, and I am going to take advantage of that!”
“Quiet!” Aizawa’s stern voice cut through the chatter. Everyone’s mouths slammed shut, and Shinsou smirked as Kaminari frowned.
“Today, you’ll be picking your teams.”
Immediately, the chatter picked back up.
A few students cheered or whooped, but most just leaned into their friends, whispering excitedly.
“How many on a team?” Ashido asked as Kaminari threw an arm over his shoulder and pulled him in.
“Oh would you look at that?” Kaminari beamed, “Looks like we’re gonna be on the same team after all. So says me.”
“What ever happened to consent?”
Kaminari snorted, “Says the brainwasher.”
“If you’d allow me to finish.” Aizawa cut off the buzz of chatter. “You’ll be in groups of three.”
“Jirou!” Kaminari called immediately, and Shinsou slapped a hand over his mouth.
“Shut up.”
Kaminari mumbled something behind Shinsou’s hand.
“Don’t just pick your friends.” Aizawa insisted, a hard glare locking onto Kaminari.
Shinsou dropped his hand, refusing to meet Aizawa’s eyes.
“You were part of a bigger raid, but one of the villains slipped off with a hostage.” Aizawa continued, pulling his eyes from Kaminari, “You’re pursuing that villain. You should choose people you’ll work well with.”
“We work well together, right?” Kaminari asked under his breath, leaning in so Shinsou could hear him better.
“When you go dumb, yeah, we work great.” Shinsou tilted his head, scanning the area around them.
Kaminari pressed a hand to contain his laugh as Iida’s hand shot up, “Are there any other details we’ll be evaluated on?”
They were surrounded by tall concrete walls with eight openings in the circle. The one directly behind them was the way back to the bus, and had an open top to let the sunlight in.
The other hallways were pitch black.
“Keep the hostage alive, apprehend the villain. You will be evaluated on your approach. Any other questions?” Aizawa nodded when no one raised their hands, “You have two minutes to create your team and head inside.
Kaminari turned, a hand on his arm pulling him along, “Come on, I wanna get Jirou before she ditches me again.”
Before Shinsou even had a chance to stop him, Bakugou appeared between them. “Mind Freak is coming with me.”
Shinsou’s eyebrows rose at the nickname, and Kaminari raised his elbow, resting it on Shinsou’s shoulder and leaning onto him.
“Um- technically he’s Ikiryo right now.”
Bakugou tsked, grabbing Shinsou’s shoulders and forcing him to turn, pushing him towards the entrance.
“Woah!” Kaminari chased after them as Shinsou jerked to the side, “Didn’t know Shinsou was such a hot commodity.”
“Get moving.” Bakugou insisted.
“I don’t want to go with either of you!” Shinsou snapped, “Neither of you are useful to me.”
“Um, we’re obviously your backup.” Kaminari said, throwing out a finger gun and a wink, “You’ll do all the negotiation work, and we’ll pose for the cameras.”
“I’m not the shitty backup.” Bakugou spat, leaning over Kaminari.
“Fine.” He held his hands up, “I’ll pose for the cameras, you can grimace and threaten innocent civilians."
Bakugou growled, turning to march off, “Get moving.”
Kaminari smirked, slapping Shinsou in the shoulder and moving to follow him, “Dude we got this in the bag.”
“Bbecause Bakugou decided to grace us with his presence?”
“Because we got the first and second place winners of the sports fest! If we’re lucky we won’t even need Bakugou.”
“Keep up!”
Kaminari turned, picking up his speed. Shinsou leaned his head back, letting out a long sigh before pushing himself to follow after them.
It was a twisting maze, but with certain cut-outs in the wall. Most of them were about window height, but others were higher or lower, and a lot of them lined up to provide a decent line of sight for at least a few seconds.
Other than the sunlight behind them that they quickly lost, their only source of light was Bakugou’s soft pops of explosions.
“This is spooky.” Kaminari whisper yelled. “I feel like a ghost is gonna breath down my neck any second.” He paused, turning to Shinsou. “That’s your queue to do something really funny Ikiryo.”
“Shut it.” Bakugou snapped, “We’re trying to get the jump on this guy.”
“Are we?” Kaminari wondered, “Isn’t Shinsou just gonna brainwash him?”
“Don’t talk about the plan you moron.”
“They’ll hear us coming anyway, Bakugou.” Shinsou cut in, “Your hands are literally exploding every second.”
Bakugou tsked, turning sharply around a corner.
Kaminari followed closely behind him, and before Shinsou could follow, Kaminari yelped, and yellow sparked the air. Shinsou froze, his heart in his throat, unable to move until Bakugou yelled.
“Dunce! What the hell was that?”
Shinsou swallowed the fear, leaning forward to find Kaminari smiling shyly, his ear touching his shoulder.
“That was a special move I like to call ‘Panic-alt’”
Bakugou scoffed. “You’re a fucking idiot.”
“I did see something though!” He defended. “Something moved! It might be the villain.”
“We should split up.” Bakugou said, “Dunce, go around the back, cut him off.”
“Um- you want me to go off alone, in the dark, and try to sneak? In a place that literally is haunted with ghosts?”
“One ghost.” Shinsou corrected.
“Yeah!” He snapped, shoving Kaminari’s shoulder, “Go fucking around.”
“I fuck around often.” Kaminari joked, stumbling away when Bakugou moved to push him again. He dropped his head, stopping by Shinsou for a second, “But I hate finding out.”
Bakugou scoffed, but marched forward, the sparking light going with him.
“I didn’t get you did I?” Kaminari asked, his voice so soft, so- sincere.
It somehow hurt.
“No.” Shinsou breathed. “I’m good.”
He should be concerned.
It should scare him that Kaminari even knew to ask.
For once, it didn’t.
“I usually have it packed down tight,” He said quickly, “but you know-”
“I’m fine.” Shinsou breathed, “It’s okay.”
“For fuck’s sake, get a move on!” Bakugou shouted.
Kaminari took a deep breath, “Wish me luck.”
“I don’t believe in luck.”
“Of course you don’t.” Kaminari laughed. Something bubbled in Shinsou's chest, and he found himself biting back a smile and pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth to hold back his own laugh.
Which was stupid, because it wasn’t even that funny.
Shinsou pushed him away, “I’ve got to go, there’s a villain on the loose.”
“Yeah. I like being on your team way more than being against you.”
Shinsou stepped back, “Of course you do.”
At that, he turned around, rushing to chase after Bakugou.
It wasn’t until he rounded the corner that he realized he could no longer hear Bakugou’s explosions. He jerked to a stop, straining his ears for anything. He wasn’t sure what the villain would sound like, probably electric, given they usually use robots for this.
He didn’t even consider that something had happened to Bakugou. There would’ve been more of a fight; Shinsou would’ve heard something.
Which meant he was probably trying to be quiet on purpose.
Shinsou’s eyes skipped across the room, trying to decipher the shadows. He tilted his head towards the sound of footsteps, pushing himself back against the wall.
“We’re not here to hurt you.” Shinsou called, “We’re just here to talk.”
Shinsou held his breath as he waited for a response, slowly dropping lower and lower, rolling his steps as he followed the wall.
He considered his next words carefully, slowly straightening when the footsteps got closer.
“Bakugou?” He breathed.
His head was yanked back, the scarf tightening around his neck. Shinsou choked, his hands grabbing the fabric. He fell back, tripping over something, landing hard on his back.
But not on the hard floor, on something softer.
Fabric.
He lashed out, reaching blindly for a head and twisting when his fingers grasped something. A gloved hand pulled his fingers loose, and the next thing Shinsou knew, he was being thrown over, his chin slamming into the ground. Something heavy pressed against his lower back, and the scarf pulled tighter, the force pulling his head from the ground. His lungs scratched at his skin for air, and Shinsou tried one more time to reach back, blindly searching for anything.
His arm hit nothing, and he slammed his hands into the ground, trying to roll as his vision started to blacken. The scarf jerked tighter, the weight pushing him down. Shinsou reached up, fingers digging into the fabric, trying desperately to get any air.
To say something.
The scarred skin ached as Shinsou’s nails dug in.
Did they get an actual, real-life person to play the villain?
Would they-
Would they choke Shinsou out just for the sake of realism?
He tried to kick, tried to do anything. There had to be a way out of this.
Rai never pinned him like this.
Something grabbed his flailing hand, twisting it uncomfortably, and Shinsou tried again to use the chance to roll, but the attacker pushed his arm down, forcing him back into place.
He forced himself to think, to ignore the burn and the panic chipping pieces of him away and think.
The pressure around his neck increased as he slipped his fingers out, desperately reaching back for the fabric.
He dropped to the floor before he could, his head pulsing.
He gasped for breath, reaching to pull the scarf away. Something pulled his elbow before he could, pressing his arms together behind his back. He swallowed against the pain, and when he opened his mouth, he just coughed. By the time he managed to lamely jerk his arms, they were wrapped tight together. He tried to shift, to thrash, but another weight pressed between his shoulder blades, pushing his cheek into the ground.
“Fuck.” He wheezed, “This feels like an over reaction.”
He jerked his arms as hard as he could, barely getting enough momentum with his foot to roll over. His attacker stumbled off, and Shinsou kicked out at them when he was on his back. They leaned to the side, and his foot barely brushed them. They grabbed it and yanked, sliding Shinsou along the floor.
“You feel big and strong?” He managed, his voice rougher than usual, “Getting the jump on me? Coward.” He hissed, aiming a kick between their legs when he was close enough. The attacker dropped to their knees, but a hand reached for Shinsou’s belt, pulling him in.
The next thing he knew, there was light, and heat, and he was being thrown into the wall.
His side ached as he made impact, his body curling up to try and soften the landing. The second he could, he shifted, pushing himself to his knees. He opened his mouth to say something, but before Shinsou could find his voice, he was being slammed back into the wall, smoky hands grabbing the scarf around his neck.
“What the hell? Baku-” The fabric slipped between his teeth, and the panic returned tenfold. Shinsou lunged forward, slamming his body into Bakugou. They stumbled back, but Bakugou pressed a hand to the back of his head, hooking a foot around his ankle and forcing him to the ground. Shinsou rolled, bringing his legs in, but Bakugou was on top of him, instantly reaching for the scarf again, pulling it tighter around his mouth. Shinsou tried to jerk his head, but the more Bakugou wrapped around him, the less freedom he had.
His lungs begged for air, but he couldn’t get the taste of sweat out of his mouth. He pulled on the one connection he had, his ears ringing when Bakugou persisted.
How?
How did he not have Bakugou?
Shinsou tried to ram his head forward, but Bakugou yanked him down, his forehead barely brushing his chin as the back of his head crashed into the floor again. His head was pulled almost immediately up as Bakugou pulled it tight, twisting the ends into a knot.
The edges of his vision darkened, his eyes chasing Bakugou’s movements. Shinsou tried to slam into him again, but Bakugou leaned back, getting to his feet and pulling Shinsou along with him. Shinsou twisted and thrashed, managing to pull free of one of Bakugou’s hands, kicking out at it.
He fought.
He did fight.
All he could do was fight.
And he still lost.
Bakugou pulled him across the hall, forcing Shinsou’s hands down. When he stepped back, Shinsou lunged forward, his neck jerking back, keeping him in place. Shinsou’s eyes widened, static flooding his ears. He tugged at his scarf again, twisting and scrambling to press his feet against the wall. He pushed, clenching his jaw as the pressure against his face grew.
Nothing happened.
Nothing worked.
He couldn’t breathe.
He couldn’t think.
He twisted his head sharply, trying to dislodge the fabric. He kicked out wildly, his boots scraping against the ground.
There had to be a way out of this.
His vision spun.
His heart beat reverberated in his chest.
There had to be a way out of this.
He jerked too hard, and his head slammed into the wall. The fabric pulled against his skin, but he didn’t care, couldn’t care.
He needed out.
He needed to breathe.
All his efforts earned him was a pounding headache.
He fought.
He knew he fought.
He had a steady pulse of pain at his temple, the back of his head was rubbed raw from where the fabric twisted and rolled uncomfortably.
At some point, Bakugou left.
He didn’t remember any of that, but he knew he did.
He fought.
More importantly, he gave up.
It hurt to even roll over; it hurt to breathe.
So- death was better.
He didn’t wonder how long it’d take for someone to find him. He had, but he didn’t now. He’d jerked his head at uncomfortable angles, desperately searching the corners for any sign of anything, a flashing red light, a slight glint of a camera.
Now, he didn’t care if they found him.
He deserved this.
Bakugou was doing Fate's bidding, which was pretty fucking ironic, and if Shinsou could, he’d laugh about it.
But he couldn’t.
Because he was fucking muzzled again.
His mouth went dry a long time ago. Even if he tried to scream, even if he could get his shitty fucking voice to cooperate, it wouldn’t do much good.
He made a pact with himself, then and there, splayed out like roadkill in a concrete maze.
If he survived this, if he lived-
He was going to correct that.
He- he couldn’t do this.
Not if this was what waited for him.
Somehow, in all his worst-case scenarios, he didn’t think to account for this.
Which was a major oversight on his part. The muzzle wasn’t ever just a punishment; it was a state of being for him.
The brainwasher will always be a threat.
Until you shut it up.
His body curled in on itself as something cut through the heavy silence, bracing for anything. He jerked back at the sound of a voice, trying to make himself small, trying to blend in.
Light flashed behind his eyelids, and a familiar scent filled his nose. Instinct had him reaching for his throat, but nothing moved, and his stomach churned at the memory.
“Shinsou?” A familiar voice cut through the flood. He couldn’t quite place it, but he recognized the undeniable panic that followed after. “Holy crap, Shinsou!”
He curled away from the touch, but he really didn’t have any energy to fight against it. He forced his eyes open when he realized they were closed, blinking up at bright yellow hair with a signature streak of black.
“What happened? I- I found the villain but there was no you, no Bakugou.” Kaminari muttered almost too fast for Shinsou to follow, “Where’s Bakugou? What happened! I tried to follow it but it heard me and- I thought I was back up! Backup’s not actually supposed to need to do back up! And did you brainwash me? Can you do that from this far? There was a moment where I was walking and then I wasn't and, I don’t know, felt like your brainwashing. Sorry! I’m trying to get you out, but this knot is so tight. I didn’t go to boy scouts and I’m not good at untangling things. I get all confused about where each strand goes and-”
Kaminari suddenly leaned forward, and Shinsou’s vision spun as he pulled at the fabric with his teeth. His face was wrinkled in concern, more focused than Shinsou had seen him on anything.
Which was ridiculous because he had no way to know.
He could feel a huff of breath against his nose, and Shinsou’s fingers twitched to- do something, maybe grab, maybe push away.
Finally, the knot broke away, and Kaminari leaned back, sliding his fingers under and pulling it loose, ripping it over Shinsou’s head.
“Finally! Sorry. That was- that was really tight? Are you okay?”
Things flooded in. The pain in his head, for one, was immediately worse than it had been moments ago. His throat fucking hurt, and now, even more so than before, he desperately just wanted to get it over with, to die.
Warm fingers pressed into his cheeks, and again, Kaminari was close.
“What happened?”
He wanted to lick his lips because his mouth was still disgustingly dry, but Kaminari was- close, too close and Shinsou-
He still couldn’t move his arms.
He rolled over, forcing Kaminari to pull back to give him room. Kaminari leaned back, but quickly got the idea, reaching to unwrap Shinsou’s hands.
“They got you good.” Kaminari continued, “Should I be worried? I didn’t even think to check the area. If it’s a robot that did this to you though, I’ll probably be able to handle it. Not without hurting the hostage, but if I could just-” The fabric around his arms pulled loose, and Shinsou’s shoulders rolled forward, his joints creaking. He pressed a hand to the ground, his other reached carefully for his throat. “Can you say something? Even if it’s a stupid lie. Are you hurt?”
A hand pressed against his back, and Shinsou jerked away, twisting to press his shoulders against the wall, his spine straight. Kaminari stared at him, his eyes wide, his lips parted.
“Shinsou?” Kaminari breathed.
Shinsou gasped for breath, his mind scrambling to grasp onto anything grounding. His hand snapped to the back of his neck, his fingers digging in, his knees pulling to his chest.
The pain rippled down his spine, and Shinsou opened his mouth, counting three breaths before finally managing to speak.
“Aizawa.” He croaked, and Kaminari nodded immediately, scrambling forward, firmly grabbing Shinsou’s hand and helping him up.
“Okay. Okay, come on. We’ll- we’ll go to Mr. Aizawa.”
Shinsou let himself be pulled to his feet, finding strange comfort in the way Kaminari’s hand was gripping his wrist. The hold was strong, even though it didn’t need to be anymore, and Shinsou focused on that touch like a lifeline. He didn’t bother to keep track of their turns or really follow what Kaminari was saying.
He didn’t want to have to worry about anything at all.
They jerked to a stop when they heard Bakugou’s explosions echo through the maze. Shinsou’s head snapped up, something begging him to chase after the sound.
But before he could, Kaminari pulled him away from it.
Shinsou jerked to a stop as the light became visible, something in him fighting to stay, to hide.
Kaminari turned immediately, “You okay?”
Stupid question.
What if there were heroes out there? What if everyone saw him? Two incidents, back to back?
They were going to know.
What if there were cameras and everyone just ignored him? What if this was planned? A test. One he failed.
“Shinsou?”
He jerked away from the touch, shaking his head.
He couldn't do this.
He turned around.
He didn't need Aizawa. It was already basically over. What would he do anyway? The crisis was handled; now all Shinsou had to do was get over it.
They should continue the mission.
Maybe he could convince Bakugou to finish the job.
“Um- You-” footsteps trailed after him, "Where are you going?”
Shinsou shook his head, grinding his teeth, pushing forward.
“You- you know Aizawa’s that way, right?” Kaminari rounded in front of him, pressing his palm to Shinsou’s shoulders, “Dude can you just-”
Shinsou jerked to a stop, slapping Kaminari’s hands off.
“Can you just talk to me? Where are you going? What are we doing?”
Shinsou stepped around him.
He was going to finish the job.
A villain had a hostage.
He’d get over it.
The footsteps didn’t follow him this time, and Shinsou had to stop himself from turning around and dragging Kaminari with him.
Because, despite this, he didn’t want to deal with it alone.
“I’m going to get Mr. Aizawa.” Kaminari decided, backing up. Before Shinsou could decide how he felt about that, Kaminari was already gone.
He wandered aimlessly. He hadn’t realized when he decided to turn back that the explosions had stopped. He swore he could smell smoke clinging to the air, so he followed that, keeping himself silent, hugging the walls.
He wasn’t sure what he planned to do if he found Bakugou, but it couldn’t be good.
His fingers were twitching, the ghost of a knife weighing heavy in his hands.
He didn’t hear anyone coming.
Which should be the part that concerned him the most.
He was listening. He was silent, counting his even, measured breaths. He was back in it, fine, doing the whole hero training thing. He knew he’d get over it; he always did.
But he didn’t hear them coming.
“Shinsou.”
He spun around, adrenaline shooting through his body. He could barely make them out. Kaminari was easy to see, bright yellow, but Aizawa was nothing but a silhouette.
“What happened?”
Shinsou shifted his jaw, twisting his fingers into a fist.
He needed to do something.
Something had to be done about this.
He needed to fucking speak. Right fucking now. He could convince Aizawa. He just- he had to be smart about it.
He had to be able to talk.
He opened his mouth, which felt like he won a war in and of itself, and for a second, he could see it. He could see himself taking a breath, being fine. He could see Aizawa turning around, believing him.
He could see a world in which he was normal.
Fine.
Like actually fine.
But he never found the words.
Because he wasn’t.
Fine.
He didn’t know what to say to convince Aizawa that this was nothing- a fluke, because it wasn’t nothing.
His world was crumbling around him, and he didn’t know how to lie anymore.
He dropped his head, forcing his mouth to shut and his fingers to uncurl.
Aizawa would see it anyway.
“Go get Iida.”
“What? Is everything-”
“Kaminari.” Aizawa cut in sharply, “Go get Iida, tell him to wait by the entrance, and wait with the rest of your classmates. I’ve got it from here.”
Kaminari lingered for a moment, but eventually he turned and ran. Aizawa stepped closer almost immediately, but he moved slowly.
Shinsou couldn’t even meet his eyes.
“Kaminari told me how he found you.”
Shinsou scoffed, whatever fight was left draining from his body.
There was nothing else. All it left behind was a husk, an empty shell.
“I’ll have Iida escort you to Recovery Girl. Can you walk there?”
Shinsou nodded, swallowing the lump, and this time when Aizawa stepped forward, he was close enough to touch.
Shinsou fought the urge to move closer.
“Was it Bakugou?”
Shinsou’s heart beat faster, his stomach churning at the question.
It wasn’t Bakugou’s fault.
This was inevitable.
It was bound to happen.
Everywhere he went.
It’d happen one way or another.
Maybe- maybe that was the explanation for the emptiness. Life was finally objectively good. He was a hero student, he had hero parents fostering him, and they- they knew him better than almost anyone, and they were still around.
He shouldn’t feel like this anymore.
And yet-
Maybe that was his cosmic punishment.
Inability to feel happiness.
That’d make sense.
It’d be fitting even.
He blinked against the light, his head spinning when he noticed he was moving. Something inside him rearranged itself as he realized Iida was standing a few feet in front of him. He closed his eyes for a second when the spinning almost became sickening, trying to focus on Aizawa’s words.
He didn’t even get close to succeeding.
At least not until Aizawa stepped between the light and him, his eyes hard. He grabbed Shinsou’s shoulders, and bugs crawled beneath his fingers.
“You’re going to go with Iida. Understand?”
Shinsou nodded, the motion making the world rock. He managed to stay on his feet, not flinching when Aizawa stepped aside, and the light blinded him again.
Iida nodded stiffly to him, and Shinsou’s ribs curled into his chest when Iida grabbed his arm. Iida said something that didn’t quite reach his ears, and he turned, moving to lead Shinsou out of the concrete maze.
He tried to keep his face blank, to maybe even act a little bored with it all. He wasn’t sure he managed it. Maybe he would know, if he bothered to try, but it was taking everything in him to keep up that mask. He couldn’t raise his eyes, but he could feel the weight of their attention, coating his skin like the sudden heat of the sun.
He didn’t want to know what they were seeing.
He wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle it.
~ ~ ~
“Why aren’t there cameras? There are always cameras.”
“Not always.”
Shinsou blinked, something about that cutting through the fuzz. He forced himself to take a deep breath, and suddenly he felt himself slamming back into place, his consciousness a heavy weight behind his eyes.
“Well you should!” Yamada shouted, his voice tight. “You of all people should know that. How long was he like that?”
Aizawa’s response to that was stilted and delayed: “I don’t know.”
“Your students are out of control.”
“It’s just the one.”
“Tell me you’re going to expel him.”
Shinsou’s stomach churned, something cold filling the holes in his bones.
“I’m going to talk to him.”
“You’ve expelled a whole classroom for less! That was cruel and you’re acting like you don’t even care!”
“I’m acting like a teacher.”
Shinsou’s eyes drifted to the door, his hands sliding off his lap and pressing to the sheets of the bed.
“How useful. You’re both you know and your son is in there right now completely unresponsive because of something that happened on your watch.”
“I’m not just going to let him get away with this.”
“But you’re going to hear him out?”
“Yes. I’m his teacher as much as I’m Shinsou’s.”
“You’re less his father.”
“Alright!” An older feminine voice cut in, “If you want to be a teacher, you go be a teacher, if you want to be a parent, go parent, but no more squabbling. You’re not helping anyone right now.”
The shouting didn’t continue; the silence was heavy, especially when Aizawa’s footsteps retreated without another word.
“This is personal.” Yamada said eventually. “He knows that.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“It was cruel regardless.”
“Hizashi.” Recovery Girl said softly.
“Is he okay?”
“Physically.” She paused, “You may want to take him home.”
“It’ll look suspicious.”
Shinsou pulled his eyes away, turning his head to stare at the opposite wall, his gaze on a poster of some kind.
“Are you Present Mic now? I could’ve sworn you were a parent three seconds ago.”
“Yeah,” He sighed, and he sounded horribly exhausted, “I am.”
“Remember that next time you see your husband.”
The door opened, and something in Shinsou broke.
“Shouta’s gone to deal with Bakugou,” Yamada said softly when the door clicked shut. “Do you-” Yamada’s words faltered. Shinsou could almost laugh; if he could do anything, he’d laugh.
That wasn’t like him.
Being unsure how to talk to someone.
“Is there anything I can do?”
No.
No.
This was always the problem.
It’d get to this point.
Maybe they’d even like him, genuinely like him, or at least like whoever Shinsou was pretending to be.
Maybe they really meant it when they said they wanted to keep him around.
And then this would happen.
He’d tear their family apart.
And it’d be him or them.
Of course they’d choose themselves. Who wouldn’t?
They’d be stupid not to.
“He’s right.” Shinsou croaked, taking a breath to push down the climbing sorrow.
“Who?” Yamada pushed, “Bakugou?”
“Aizawa.”
Yamada shifted, his body tensing, “About what?”
“He shouldn’t expel Bakugou.”
Yamada sighed, “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”
Shinsou scoffed sardonically, and Yamada tried to crouch down. Shinsou squeezed his eyes shut before he could see his face. He wouldn’t be able to handle Present Mic of all things right now.
If it was just his voice, he could pretend.
“That wasn’t about you.”
Shinsou chuckled dryly, “Sure.”
“I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s- it’s more complicated than that.”
Shinsou took a deep breath.
He was really fucking tired of this cycle.
Good families or bad, he wanted out.
It’d save everyone a headache.
“We don’t know what we’re doing about Bakugou.” He admitted, “But we’re going to do something.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Yes. We do.” Yamada let out a long sigh, “Can you open your eyes.”
He shook his head, dropping his chin.
“Shinsou-”
“No.” Shinsou snapped.
The sound echoed throughout the room, and Shinsou pressed his eyes tighter, pushing back the tears.
“I don’t know what they’re going to do but I’m going to make sure something gets done. Bakugou is- violent and antagonistic and-”
“So am I.”
That made Yamada go silent, and Shinsou felt the vindication of winning an argument course through him.
“Not like that.” Yamada argued eventually.
How would he know?
What did it matter?
Shinsou was.
Shinsou tore himself from people’s memories.
Shinsou broke someone's fucking skull.
Shinsou killed a hero.
He killed a hero.
What the fuck did he think he was doing here?
“You don’t want to see it.” Shinsou breathed.
Or he did, and he was lying.
Didn’t matter.
“What Bakugou did was cruel. You’re not cruel, Shinsou.”
He shifted his jaw, turning his head away, “I need to talk to Aizawa.”
Yamada was quiet for a long moment, “Aizawa needs to talk to you too, but all this can happen tomorrow. You should rest.”
Shinsou shook his head, pushing himself off the bed, “I don’t need to rest.”
Yamada moved quickly, blocking his exit, and Shinsou pressed his chin to his shoulder, keeping his eyes down, “Recovery Girl’s orders.”
“I don’t want to go home,” He hissed, “I want to talk to Aizawa.”
“Shinsou please.” Yamada tilted his head, trying to catch his gaze, “Just- sit for ten minutes. Aizawa’s busy anyway.”
Shinsou shifted his jaw back and forth, “Please.” He sighed. “I- I need to talk to Aizawa.”
He saw Yamada shift out of the corner of his vision, saw him lift his hand and run it down his face.
“Okay, but you have to be patient. He’s busy trying to figure this out so just- sit. Take a breath.”
Shinsou wanted to snap. He has been sitting. He has been taking a breath.
He stepped back, dropping to the floor instead of pushing himself back onto the bed. His body craved to curl in on itself, to contort itself smaller and smaller until he was nothing but a bug to squash.
He forced himself to ignore it, to sit with his shoulders as high as he could, to play the part.
He ignored everything else Yamada had to say because he couldn’t handle that right now. Eventually, he stopped trying to talk, but Shinsou held his position, clinging to the gathering soreness until Yamada finally stood.
“You don’t have to do this.”
Shinsou huffed softly, moving toward the door when it was clear Yamada wasn’t going to lead the way.
~ ~ ~
Yamada didn’t knock.
Eventually, he swung around and took the lead. Shinsou kept his head turned, jerking to a stop when Yamada turned suddenly and threw a door open and charged in.
“Does he need a lawyer?”
Aizawa sighed, “No.”
Shinsou trailed in behind him, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.
“Let the record show he’s a victim.”
“Hizashi.” Aizawa pushed, staring at him out of the top of his vision.
Yamada stepped back, “I’ll be nearby.”
The door clicked shut, and Aizawa’s eyes slid to him, softening significantly, but still, Shinsou didn’t move.
“Did you expel Bakugou?”
“No.”
“Are you going to expel me?”
“No.”
Shinsou swallowed, breaking eye contact to scan the room. It was a meeting room, but Aizawa wasn’t using the furthest chair. He was just one to the left of the head, and across from him, the other chair was turned, the only other one that had been used.
Shinsou sank into the chair.
“Are you alright?”
“Nothing new.”
“Are you okay?” He pushed, “We don’t have to do this now.”
“Why wait?”
“You weren’t feeling very talkative an hour ago.”
Shinsou swallowed the pain building in his throat, “Well I am now.”
Aizawa searched him for a long moment, “What happened?”
“I provoked him.”
Aizawa’s eyebrow rose, “Really?”
He hummed confirmation.
“How?”
“Insulted his ability to be a hero, how else.”
“I want specifics.”
“Fuck you.” Shinsou spat, “I don’t remember.”
“Neither does Bakugou apparently.” Aizawa said, “Because he didn’t mention that at all.”
“Must’ve slipped his mind.”
Aizawa leaned forward, “What happened?”
Shinsou dropped his eyes to the table, tracing the lighter brown loops of wood.
What happened?
“I think-” He tried swallowing again, “I think I’m bad at being a hero.”
Aizawa, for his credit, barely reacted, “Why?”
Shinsou took a deep breath, shaking his head.
“Whatever Bakugou said-”
“He didn’t say anything.” Shinsou snapped, “If he did I would’ve fucking brainwashed him.”
Aizawa was quiet for a moment, “Nobody here is good at being a hero. You’re all learning.”
“Midoriya’s fucking great at it.”
“He’s still learning.” Aizawa insisted, “It just looks different for him.”
“They’re not great at it, but they are good at it.” Shinsou argued, “I’m horrible at it.”
Better at hurting people.
Better at taking a beating.
“You’re far from horrible at it.”
“I don’t win.”
“It’s not always about winning.”
Shinsou shot to his feet, “What the fuck else is it about? I play the villain, I lose, the hero, I lose, the ally, I fucking lose. I can’t do fucking any of it.”
“It’s not about winning. It’s about practicing, about building up skills.”
Shinsou shook his head, “I should already have those skills.”
“You do.” Aizawa promised, “The fact that you’re not a hindrance is proof of that. You weren’t a hero Shinsou, you were a vigilante. You see how they are different? You do have skills, but you’re repurposing them, and you are learning new skills. You have less time to adjust then all of them, and Shinsou you’re doing great. Maybe we should lessen you’re load, let you focus on one thing at a time.”
“Am I doing great or do I need to lessen my load. Which is it?”
Aizawa sighed, “Shinsou-”
“I’m done being a hero student..”
Aizawa pushed himself to stand, “Shinsou. What happened.”
“You know what happened.” He pushed.
“I want to hear it from you.”
“Why? Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters.”
“Bakugou fucking gagged me.” He spat, “And he fucking left me there.”
“Did he say anything to you before that?”
“He told me to shut up and die.”
Aizawa’s gaze was heavy.
Shinsou hated it.
“We done here?” He asked when the silence became too much to bear. “Great, I’ll see myself out. Let gen-ed know to expect me.” He moved to step around Aizawa, but he pressed a hand to his chest, firmly pushing him back.
“We should talk about this.”
“I’ve talked! What more do you want?”
“Why quit? You’ve- you’ve been working hard.”
He shrugged, his eyes dropping, something sick twisting inside him at the question. “Wasn’t what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
Shinsou took a long second to think about that.
Honestly?
This was exactly what he expected.
He expected to lose, to fall behind.
He expected to see the gaping distance between his classmates and him.
He expected to try, and fuck, he really tried.
And he expected to fail anyway.
“I thought it would be real.” He muttered, “Not- this bullshit.”
“It’ll be real one day.”
“No.” He shook his head, “No, I’m- I’m done.”
“Shinsou.”
“You can put me back in gen-ed.” He continued, “You need someone out of the course anyway. We tried but it didn’t work out.”
“Shinsou, stop.”
“I’m done.” He snapped, finally lifting his gaze to meet Aizawa’s eyes, “I’m- I’m fucking done. I’ll fair better in gen-ed.”
“You’re not quitting.”
“Fuck you, you don’t get a say.”
“If you want to quit I have to approve your transfer.”
Shinsou’s fist slammed the table, “Was this your weird fucked up plan all along? Drag me here and force me to stay.”
“I won’t approve your transfer unless you give me the real reason you’re saying you want to quit.
“First of all fuck you.” Shinsou spat, his jaw tightening, “And secondly, I was wrong.” He breathed, “I don’t want this.”
It wasn’t a lie.
He hoped Aizawa could see that.
He didn’t want this.
Aizawa was quiet, searching. Shinsou couldn’t breathe properly until he stepped back, “Fine. You want to quit, you can go home.”
Shinsou’s head lifted, “What?”
“You can’t just show up at gen-ed. Go home, someone will get your things.”
Shinsou pressed fingers to his eyes, “Fine.”
“Do you want Yamada to go with you?”
Shinsou stepped back, his legs pressing against the desk, “I’m fucking fine. I can get back all on my own. Like a big boy.”
Aizawa sighed, “That- would you actually go home?”
Shinsou pressed his lips tight, “Yeah.”
“You sure you don’t want Yamada to go with you?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Will you?”
“Yes.”
“Text when you get there.”
Shinsou pushed off the desk, “Fuck off.”
“Shinsou.” He spoke, his voice stern, “Will you be okay on your own?”
He took a deep breath, something about the tone of his voice making him cringe.
“Yes.” He said again, trying, wanting, to mean it.
“Text if you need anything.”
Shinsou let out the air in a shaky breath, turning to leave before something inside him exploded. Yamada turned when he opened the door, and Shinsou’s stomach churned. He hadn’t had time to prepare to see him.
He walked right past him, ignoring his rushed questions. Aizawa stepped in eventually, pulling Yamada back.
Shinsou left, right out the front doors, and nobody even tried to stop him.
~ ~ ~
His phone buzzed in his pocket.
He ignored the first one because he was pretty sure it was Yamada. When it cut off and started again almost immediately, he did pull it out, mostly to turn the fucking thing off.
It wasn’t Yamada calling, though; it was Kaminari.
The curiosity beat out anything else.
“Hello?” He picked up, pressing the phone to his ear. He braced himself for anything. Questions, accusations, teasing. He didn’t know what Kaminari had to say about what he saw, but he doubted Shinsou would like the conversation.
“Shinsou!” Kaminari shouted, and Shinsou winced, his head snapping to the side as he pulled the phone back a bit, “You’re alive! Where are you? Why aren’t you in class? It’s a whole scandal.”
“I’m- going home.”
“What? Why? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Why aren’t you in class?”
“Oh I technically am. I’m- calling you from the bathroom, but don’t worry! It’s empty, I checked.”
Shinsou rolled his eyes, “Well, as you can tell, I am fine so-”
“Everyone’s pissed at Bakugou.” Kaminari interrupted, “Kirishima especially that- that was way uncalled for. Even Midoriya got pissed! You would’ve loved it. He’s- kinda scary actually, I think I’m scared of him now. I mean he was always intimidating, but- I haven’t seen Midoriya and Bakugou go at it like that since- well the first hero training really. Oh my god! You weren’t there! Do you know what happened that first hero training? Has anyone told you?”
“No.”
“That- okay, I don’t think now is the time, but remind me to tell you that story, maybe after school tomorrow. It’s- honestly? It goes really hard. Bakugou almost killed Midoriya like- straight up, or at least he tried to but- this story would be better in person. I need to gesture widely and dramatically to really set the mood so- yeah, tomorrow, during our study session or whatever. Remind me.”
“Sure,” Shinsou breathed, “Tomorrow.”
“That’s- We’re still doing that right? You said that like you weren’t expecting us to still do that.”
Shinsou let out a heavy sigh.
It would’ve been easier if Kaminari had just fallen for the lie.
“I was just-” Shinsou swallowed, “I- I think I’m probably going to need a raincheck on those.”
“What?”
He sighed, “I quit.”
“What?”
“That’s- I think that makes the most sense.”
It did.
Shinsou kept thinking about it the whole walk back, and it did.
They needed someone in gen-ed; it was his fault the seat was empty, he could fix that.
He was falling behind, his shoulder was going to be a problem, and he wasn’t even getting a chance to use his quirk.
He gave it a shot. Maybe- maybe he could live with this, now that he got a proper taste of it.
Fuck Ikiryo, fuck trying. He should’ve known better.
Maybe he could finally get over this stupid dream.
“Aizawa sent me home because I quit.”
“Um- you can’t do that?”
Despite himself, Shinsou snorted, “Yeah, I- I can.”
“And Mr. Aizawa let you?”
“I-” He shook his head, “I don’t know honestly, we’ll see. I-”
“I’m going to talk to him.”
“No! What? You- What would you even say?”
“You’re right- it’s you I have to smack some sense into, what do you mean you’re quitting? You can’t quit.”
“I can.”
“No, yes. I understand that you can but you can’t. You- I-” Kaminari let out a long sigh, “You’re- a hero.”
“No. I’m not. I’m not even a very good hero student.”
“Dude. You- you can’t say stuff like that because it makes me feel like- you’re leagues above me and you think you’re bad?”
“We win about the same.”
“No. Shinsou, I’m- Look I’m sorry but you’re gonna have to turn around and come back because if you quit I lose all hope in hero society.”
Shinsou rolled his eyes, “You’re being dramatic.”
“You’re being dramatic. If anyone should leave it’s Bakugou. Everyone is pissed. Come on. Where am I gonna get my coffee if you leave?”
“I remember Kirishima offering to buy you some.”
“Kiri’s too poor for that, and- that’s not the point. Shinsou please don’t quit. I’ll miss you.”
Shinsou sighed, “You’ll get over it.”
“I do not get over things easily. You should’ve seen what I went through when they canceled my favorite TV show.” Shinsou rolled his eyes. “No- because that was cruel of them. They didn’t just cancel it. It was approved for another season and it was going to come out on my birthday. Its final season, by the way, and then they fucking gave up!” He let out a long breath, “Yeah- I’m still upset about that.”
“I- I’m almost to the apartment so, I’m gonna-”
“Well, since I know you have the time now, it’s called Crystaline and it’s a great show but it ends abruptly.”
Shinsou huffed softly, “I- won’t watch it honestly.”
“Yeah. You’re smart like that.”
Shinsou swallowed the lump.
“You’re-” Kaminari started before Shinsou could properly say goodbye, “I know we’re not friends, and- I get you may be quitting but- you’re- I just wanted you to know that you’re still invited to my birthday party. If you wanted. Um- yeah. I’ll- I’ll send you the details.”
Shinsou didn’t have the energy to deny him again. “I’ll consider it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He swallowed, “Don’t- don’t tell people I quit. I’m- I’m not sure what-”
He didn’t know where he was going with that, but Kaminari didn’t seem to mind, “Why would I tell anyone? I personally don’t believe you will quit, I’d just be spreading false information and my reputation would never recover.”
Shinsou rolled his eyes, stopping in front of their door, “I have to go.”
“Even- you know even if you quit, you- you probably need to study, right? So- so maybe- we can still do that?”
Something in Shinsou coiled, something- something that wanted that too.
“Yeah.” Shinsou breathed, “We can do that.”
“We better. I totally studied my Japanese work last night, took notes and everything. I’ll admit, it was a bit rushed, so this may be good, I can tune it up and really impress you.”
“Impress me?” Shinsou rolled his eyes, “With your vast knowledge?”
“Of course not, I’m delusional but I’m not that delusional. I don’t want to spoil anything but I do hope you’ll be impressed. If not, feel free to totally lie to me.”
Shinsou huffed a laugh, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You want the first time I may ever be impressed with you to be disingenuous?”
“No.” Kaminari sighed, “You’re right. Don’t lie, I’ll just totally impress you for real.”
Shinsou huffed, “Goodbye, Kaminari.”
“See you around,” Kaminari said just as Shinsou was pulling the phone away from his face. He hung up the call, staring at the phone for a little too long before shoving it in his pocket.
Quitting would probably be good for that, too.
~ ~ ~
He stared at the ceiling, trying to let his decision settle in his chest.
This was good. It made things easier for everyone. Aizawa didn’t have to worry about making a decision; UA could say their entrance exam was good, that it worked just fine, that letting Shinsou in was the mistake.
And he’d just-
He’d figure something out.
It’d be something they joke about eventually, that time Shinsou tried being a hero. At least he made it this far; at least he could say he made it into a hero course. At least this way, he could say he left willingly.
His phone buzzed, four times back to back, so insistent that Shinsou knew who it had to be before he even had his phone in his hand.
“i thought of. a few reasosn yoi cant quit”
Shinsou huffed softly, rolling his eyes as he clicked open Kaminari’s text, finding the bubbles still typing.
“bakugou will know he got to yiu”
“youv mase ne deoendatn on coffee so if you leave i fail”
“also im tottly relyingon you in math rn. you woulsnt abandon me to MATH would yoi?”
“youre kinda the only one manning our class a and b relations whicj oersonally o domt understand but thats probably useful”
“you are such a good fighter withoutyoi we just look like a bunch of dummies trying to get our wuieks to work”
“your our diversity hire 😭”
“tahts not really a reason i just realized that”
“Fuck” Shinsou typed back before Kaminari could go on another rant.
“Do you have something against auto correct?”
“i do yes thankyou for asking”
“it represses my whimsy”
“so i took the bold step to turn it off and like as my authentic seld”
“And capitalization?”
“the tall letters are intimadring”
“i dont wanna come off like that”
Shinsou snorted, “You’re ridiculous.”
“no no trust theres something there”
“there is a reason people use all caps to represent yelling”
“Well, no auto correct is suppressing my ability to understand you”
“ooOOooOoO look at me. im shinsou and i used puncuation and grammer”
“you dint text mch do you”
“your so formal”
“your oeriods are legit scaring me”
“im gettinf fight or flight”
“I didn’t even use a period.”
“you said “You’re ridiculous.” with a period and a flying comma and everything”
“thought i was gonna have to do some damage control forma.minute tbere”
“but then i rememebered jwo i wastalking to”
“Holy shit. How does anyone understand you.”
“PERIOD”
“you used a period instead of a wuestion mark”
“thats worse”
“this literally isnt that bad im on my best behavior for you”
“just dont think abiut it to bard and thisll all make sense”
“You’re giving me a headache.”
“your doinf rhia on pirpose”
“and i have that effect on people”
“😎”
“This is who I’m supposed to trust to teach me proper grammar?”
“I don’t understand how you’re not better at typing.”
“yes yes trsut. i gotccu.”
“your just as bad as me yio jst dont know it”
“cut me some slack textinf and rifing the train isnt easy yk”
“i think im doing oretty well”
“i might throw i ns om tecxing traingig too becasuje the fact you dine unedstand that you are hrrrifci at this ais a crime”
Shinsou sat up, checking the time on his phone, his heart sinking when he realized the time.
Everyone would be home soon.
He’d have to deal with the aftermath of today. Yamada wouldn’t let it go; he knew that. He’d want to sit and talk about it. He’d want to understand, and even if Shinsou tried, he wouldn’t get it. He’d think Shinsou was being dramatic, that he should be over it already. He’d say the same shit without actually seeing the root of the problem.
And fuck, he hoped Yamada could at least ignore it long enough to change out of Present Mic.
And Haruto.
He hoped they didn’t drag Haruto into this.
Haruto was good at picking up on stuff like this, better than Shinsou. At least at their old house, Shinsou could often tell what mood the father was in just based on Haruto’s behavior. He knew if a fight was coming, even if it was Shinsou who started it, even before Shinsou himself knew he was going to do it.
Fuck. Haruto would know.
He leaned forward, running a hand through his hair.
Okay.
That was-
Okay.
He just had to keep his shit together until Haruto left. That couldn’t be too hard.
He was leaving Saturday.
He took a few deep breaths, his hands digging into the back of his neck.
He could- He could keep it together for a few days.
For Haruto.
He ignored the next few buzzes of his phone, trying to focus on his breathing, trying to come up with a plan.
He could do it.
He could protect Haruto from this.
From him.
He could do it.