ix.
Monoma wouldn't stop referring to it as a declaration of war, no matter how Kendo insisted he was overreacting. The rest of the class couldn't quite wrap their heads around it, gasping amongst themselves with a sprinkling of confused titters and perhaps even alarm.
But as they all stared at their classroom's roof – all their desks and all their chairs lined up in perfect, upside down rows – a shared understanding passed between them like a conspiring whisper. Common knowledge. The sudden clarity of something previously lurking having burst through into light. And at the thrown electricity of his classmates, Hitoshi could do nothing to quash the smirk across his features.
It had been over a month since the desk prank. Now they'd struck again.
The Kururugi Twins.
What would they do next?
No one had seen it coming, though it didn't exactly come as a surprise. Perhaps not even to Vlad-sensei, who pulled his face in a restrained amusement rather than any dismay at the sight of his classroom turned on its head (literally). He remained quiet on the matter though, nodding in wordless accord with Class B's shared astonishment.
"It's because of the Sports Festival," Monoma declared, throwing his hand to his heart like a foiled conqueror, ignoring how Kendo rolled her eyes resignedly. "Class A is trying to intimidate us!"
However, his words fell upon disinterested ears, caught up as everyone was in trying to figure out how the Twins had done it. When and how had they gotten everything onto the roof? A quirk? Glue? More importantly, how were they capable of it: two people so small and so pretty? Such an unsuspecting pair to go about pulling off such ballsy pranks. The question went unspoken, but fluttered between them all as distinct as a wall of glass: what would they, those Kururugi twins, do next?
With a certain gratification, Hitoshi recalled the crooked grin Takashi had flashed him earlier that morning. Across the corridor. A sharp, fleeting wave to accompany it – perhaps dangling that rare glimpse of a smile as a sort of forewarning for Hitoshi alone.
Indeed, it's being a friendly forewarning didn't seem all that unlikely.
Over the last weeks, Hitoshi had been swayed in his morbid disinterestedness, and it seemed to be the case for Takashi too. They'd eaten lunch together on four or five occasions now. Sometimes Hitoshi would catch Takashi on his skateboard in the evenings, and they'd speak about random shit for the good part of an hour: Takashi looking red-faced and flustered, always eager to escape but no longer so cold; Hitoshi with a fascination he couldn't quite put his finger on.
And almost every Friday afternoon, Takashi had snuck into Gym Gamma while Hitoshi trained with Aizawa-sensei, and he would share sandwiches with Eri. He, Takashi, read to her from an unending cycle of animal books and encyclopedias (though of this fact, Hitoshi said little to nothing for fear of scaring Takashi off) and then would disappear back to the dormitories with only a text in Hitoshi's direction to say hi. When had they exchanged numbers? It was hard to say. But such simple things as texts didn't bother Hitoshi in the slightest, because it was more than anybody else at UA got from Kururugi Takashi.
"My, my," Monoma said, and flung his arm across Hitoshi's shoulder. "And what has you looking so amused, Shinsou-kun? Do you find yourself entertained by these antics? Hmm?"
"I do," Hitoshi said, and shrugged Monoma off.
"Disgraceful!"
"Alright, settle down now," Vlad-sensei called flatly over the class. Curiously, Class B watched him linger in the doorway – and in a heightened sense of strange expectation, Hitoshi's own eagerness was piqued. Determinedly, perhaps with too much of an attempt to hide his own interest, Vlad-sensei said, "I'm going to head out for a few minutes to fetch some assistance."
After they'd wrapped his desk, Aizawa had been dissuaded from expelling them. This once, his timing ever impeccable, Principal Nezu had used his vetoing power to protect the Twins from Aizawa's wrath – "There was no damage to any of your property," Nezu had said, all smiles and pricked ears, "I do believe this was just a bit of innocent fun, Eraser Head. Lighten up!" And he, Principal Nezu, would surely do it again: shield the Kururugis because of some misguided sense of sentimentality or amusement.
Lighten up.
Lighten up.
This was what 'lightening up' got him – his classroom turned in an upside down reflection of itself, the desks and chairs mysteriously balanced across the roof. An irrational, nonsensical, rebellious waste of school time. Class A stared in bewilderment; Tsukiko and Takashi made a poor attempt at pretending to be shocked themselves. And this was surely only the beginning. If Aizawa remained 'lightened up', this was only a taster of their trickeries to come. He scowled. He considered written warnings. He shook his head at Tsukiko when she turned to grin at him, and continued to do so when the pearly smile dropped into a pout.
Their mischief was met with a stew of different reactions apart from Aizawa's own. Iida, naturally, was horrified and vehemently encouraged the culprit – culprits – to come forward and apologise. Kaminari and the expected few others thought it was, as per the words Aizawa was able to pick out, "Wicked." The Twins took no credit. Perhaps not wanting to be identified. Perhaps knowing everyone already knew it was them. Takashi only nudged Tsukiko in the arm, and Tsukiko shrugged at him in something of a secret language which only served to tick Aizawa off more.
He was halfway through scolding the entirety of the class – though with a particular eye upon the Twins, only keeping his disapproval generalized so as to ward off any ideas their little pranks may thus far have inspired – when Vlad came knocking.
"Sorry to interrupt you like this, Eraser Head, but I need to steal the Kururugis so they can… Oh…" Vlad blinked at the upturned state of the class, and then at Aizawa. "So you too."
"I'm afraid so," Aizawa said blandly. "The Twins are going to have to set my class right before I can let them go."
"Us?" the twins sounded, perfectly timed and harmonized. Then–
"I kind of like the class this way," Tsukiko hummed in mock innocence.
"Quite," Takashi replied. "It's a good idea to look at education from a different angle." Apparently he did not intend to make the rest of the class snicker, for at the noise which crackled amongst them all, Takashi's eyes went wide behind his glasses.
Aizawa was irked to find Vlad's mouth coiling upwards, fortunately too small to be noticed by the students (and too unnoticed to be a source of encouragement for the Twins), into a grin as he said, "I could take one and you the other. Might get the job done faster."
"I suppose." Aizawa glanced at the Twins out the corner of his eye, who stared at him like birds waiting either to be fed or pushed from the nest. And he sighed. "Please accept my apologies, Vlad-san. I intend to write them warnings."
"Please," Vlad shrugged. "No harm done."
"Kururugis. One of you will go with Vlad-sensei. The other one will stay here to–"
"I'll stay~!" Tsukiko piped up with an enthusiasm enough to surprise the class – which in itself was shocking, since Aizawa hadn't thought little miss could get any more eager for anything and everything – and beamed with blossomy delight between her two teachers and her brother. "Takashi can go. Take him. Take him away, Vlad-sensei."
"Uh-huh…" Vlad sounded unsure. "Okay… Come along Kururugi-kun."
Admittedly, Aizawa was skeptical about such insistence too, and it was only because of the aghast tightening about Takashi's face that he reassured himself this didn't constitute some sinister second half to the prank. For a long time, Takashi stared at his sister in a frozen hesitation, and when Vlad indicated for him to follow back out the door, he needed to be spurred into motion by a strong push from Tsukiko – who, in grasping his shoulders in her little hands, murmured under her breath, "Go, you idiot. Don't be dumb about this," and then sent him reeling after Vlad.
Once they were gone, not sure how he felt about the pride which made Tsukiko glitter gladly, Aizawa looked over the class once more and then over his students. "We'll conduct homeroom in one of the unoccupied classes down the hall," he said. "Everyone can make their way there. Except for you, Kururugi. You'll stay here and return the class to its original order."
The colour drained from her cheeks. "On my own?"
"Consider this part of your punishment," Aizawa raised an eyebrow at her, and felt a small flutter in his ribcage – not guilt, he refused to believe he was being harsh. "Get moving now, before we spend any more time on illogicalities."
Ashido bemoaned the separation in passing, loud enough for Aizawa – already outside the door – to hear her and Tsukiko make exaggerated, girlish promises that they'd see each other again soon. Not to worry! Don't lose hope! We'll see each other again soon! With the histrionics (and a bubbling echo of accompanying giggles), it was easy to imagine their hands intertwined like a scene from a tragedy. Aizawa rolled his eyes. Aizawa sighed tiredly – he was too old for Twins and their dramatics.
Perhaps that was why the thought of expelling them quickly expelled itself from his mind and intentions.
As had become the fashion, the girls and Monoma went googly-eyed. The girls and Monoma eyed Takashi coming into the classroom like an apple ripe for the picking. The girls and Monoma traded amongst themselves some simmering glee when Vlad-sensei said Takashi was there to put the class back in order. And Hitoshi, leaned against the wall in observance of the rest of Class B, waved a small greeting – which was returned with, dare he say it, a flushed twist of a smile.
Hitoshi had heard from Monoma that the girls thought Takashi – Kururugi-kuuun – was pretty. Maybe it was the dimples. Maybe it was the gross introversion which came across as aloofness. But none of them would admit it out loud because of some sense of segregation between themselves and Class A, and so only admired Takashi's prettiness from afar. Monoma, on the other hand, was much more direct. Much more aggressive with his interest. As usual. Though Hitoshi was sure – maybe half-sure – Monoma didn't have an eye for Takashi's looks. Maybe. One could never be too sure with that one.
Class B was supposed to have their Heroics lesson with All Might after Homeroom, and so were told to go change into their P.E. clothes.
Homeroom was dismissed.
Takashi would return the class to its original order in their absence.
In a turn of events, Pony and Tokage said fluttering goodbyes as they went past him, which Hitoshi considered with a veiled curiosity. More so, he pricked an eyebrow upwards as Takashi, looking to some obscure corner of the classroom, choked out a curt 'bye' in reply. Nose pointed upwards in that way he had. Hands held behind his back and, Hitoshi imagined, fidgeting viciously. He'd noticed Takashi fidgeted with most anything he could get his hands on, including his hands themselves.
Then went Monoma, just about cartwheeling – "Well, well, well! What do we have here, Kururugi-kun?" he grinned wide and with a hint of the maniacal. "This is a clever little plan. A clever little plan, indeed. I'm only loathed that you and your sister should put your genius to work against us! We could have built a beautiful alliance. Speaking of which, where is Kururugi-chan? Hmm?"
Takashi, offering less sweetness than his sister, narrowed his eyes and crinkled his nose. "She's getting the desks off Class A's roof."
"Oh?"
"Yes."
"Oh." Monoma began a slinky retreat. "Your loyalties are still divided then. Excellent."
Kendo was already gone, no great fist to quash Monoma's pesky noise. It was up to Hitoshi now. He slung his bag over his shoulder as he sauntered by, and tried hard not to look over-eager. "Come on, dude. Leave him alone," he said to Monoma, and relished the relief which glinted across Takashi's face in flickering shades of white and ashy red. "He's got stuff to do."
"Ah, why, of course." Monoma pulled a hard-smiling face. "I'll be off then, Kururugi-kun. Until next time! I look forward to seeing what you pull out your sleeve at the Sports Festival." And with that, Monoma flounced out and away in a shock of jolted movement.
Leaving Hitoshi and Takashi in a sudden uncertainty, the class having cleared out without warning so that it was them alone.
Hitoshi pressed his hand to his nape and gave a restrained roll of his eyes. "I would have thought he'd have lost interest in you by now."
"I wish he would," Takashi said. "He scares the crap out of me."
"His bark is worse than his bite."
"It's the bark that's the problem though."
Lip pulling at the corner, Hitoshi realised it couldn't have been more true for someone like Takashi. Biting was probably a pleasure compared to barking. No wonder he looked like he'd just been exorcised whenever Monoma happened to be around. "I see." Hitoshi droned, and then, "So how do you plan to fix the classroom?"
Like a crack in the odd, empty silence surrounding them, there appeared that smirk: slanted and grooving the slightest curve of dimples into Takashi's cheeks, small enough to be but a twitch in his features, odd enough to be strikingly noticeable. Takashi shrugged, and pushed his already pushed-up glasses further along the ridge of his nose. "Same way we mixed it up."
"Which is?"
"A good magician never reveals their secrets, Shinsou-kun."
Nothing could be done to stop the short, hard laugh that escaped Hitoshi. Not one so much of amusement as it was of banter. "I could ask your sister."
Takashi cocked his head. "She's less likely to tell you than I am."
"So there's a chance you'd tell me then?"
"Change your name to Kururugi. Then we'll see." Shouldering past, Takashi tipped his chin upwards as though to balance an invisible object at its tip. But it wasn't the same tilt he usually flaunted – not one of looking down his nose at everything. Oh no, Hitoshi liked to think it was more one of a quiet enjoyment. "Now leave me alone. I have stuff to do."
And then-
The storeroom door flew open at the back of the room. Suddenly and sharply, as though the words were a cue to something crucial. Hitoshi, heart rate bounding into his gut and skull in a surge of harsh fright, jumped to see the African man. What was his name again? Takashi had told him - something with a W. Something with a W... The rest evaded him as Something-With-A-W emerged from the storeroom without appearing to heed Hitoshi's sudden drop in expression. A shadow of a man in his black suit and skin. A hulk of a man who couldn't possibly fit into that tiny squeeze of a cupboard. How long had he been there? Holy shit. Maybe Monoma was right about the spying thing.
Only glancing in Hitoshi's direction before looking curiously at Takashi - who continued blithely and unfazedly into the center of the classroom, as though massive foreigners climbing out closets was perfectly par for the course - Something-With-A-W questioned in a boom of a voice which was enough to send Hitoshi backing out the class in a hard-pulsed, fascinated stare, "Where to start, Utata?"
