Extracts from Mineta's letter to Kaminari:
…I'm sorry for being such a bad friend. You deserve better. Unlike me, you were able to move on and become a better person. Unlike me, people actually believed you when you changed. Unlike me, you have a future. Unlike me, you have promising talents. Unlike me…well, you've got everything I have but in better version. You changed, with great success. I tried to, and failed. That's the difference…
…Henceforth, I will no longer say a word to you. Not because I hate you or don't want to be your friend, but because I like you and you need better friends. That means what it means. If you try to find me, I'll run from you until you find a friend worth not running after me anymore. If you try to call me, the silence from my lack of answers will convince you to find someone else's words to spice up your life. Don't give up yet; I think you're already well on your way to find the key to being happy. Not hanging on with me is part of the solution …
…I enjoyed doing all these things we did together. I can't deny I did., no matter how much I wish these good memories were bad ones. I hope it is your case. Whatever you've done that was bad, with or because of me, I think you've already forgiven yourself for it, or so I dearly hope. For my part, nobody seems to forgive me, therefore I never will myself. That's the final verdict, and I accept it as a grown-up…
Sunday morning, 11:00 a.m.
Recovery Girl and the Rescue Training Specialist – aka Thirteen – bravely faced the surprised students, entrusted by Aizawa with the perilous task of informing them of the day-long lockdown they'd have to endure. Under no circumstances, except in case of absolute emergency, were they allowed to break the curfew. Prosecutors would be met with disciplinary actions. The two U.A. staff members endeavored to be convincing enough to keep their audience focused on staying out of trouble. To make up for this exceptional restriction of their freedoms, they could enjoy unlimited drinks, five-star room service and unlimited, round-the-clock psychological support on demand.
Despite their emotional trauma, the school's stance was not to make any wave and act as if nothing had happened.
It wasn't a wholehearted decision. The Space hero and her medic college were just following orders; showing everyone that life went on and things were still under control – on the condition that they did not interfere with the rescue operation, a risk they were too likely to take, hence the severe quarantine environment.
They nonetheless acted contrite to the students for this brutal announcement, all the while detailing and supporting the school's legitimate concerns. Class 1-A was an elite group of future top-rated heroes, but they remained human beings who needed time to recover, which would certainly not be favored by reckless hero-playing or thoughtless decisions made on impulse.
In order to avoid methodical fits of hysterics, Thirteen and Recovery Girl did not methodically enforce this overly-severe demand on them. Not on the exact original terms. Despite the strictness in Aizawa's adamant statement, it was decided they were still allowed to take a stroll every now and then – as long as they wouldn't overtake the boundaries of the dorms' recreational garden area. Neither Aizawa or Principal Nezu's previous, harsher instructions about it mattered. Recovery Girl was the medic; she had the final word anyway.
Nothing to feel enthusiastic about, but they would enjoy a break with fresher air.
An hour later, they gathered in the common area for an "emotional debrief" after a supersonic lunch. Their need to talk things out was big.
For a long while, the students exchanged Mineta's letters from hands to hands, read them out loud, cried, wiped their tears, supported and hugged each other, put up with their remorse, confessed regrets, checked their phones in case Mineta answered their last fifty text messages, called again, left more vocal pleas not to do stupid things on his answerback…and did it all over again.
"Still reading the same extract?" Jiro commented, sitting next to Kaminari on the couch.
The blunt honesty and acerbic pain in Mineta's letter had dealt him a heavy blow.
"I feel dumb!" he cried out, a picture of his short-circuited self in mind. "I yelled at him. I was mad at myself because I couldn't help him and felt helpless myself, so I took it all out on him."
The exacerbated tension in his nerves electrified the air around him, making it so sultry a thunderstorm could have broken at any time. Bursting out in a lighting furry would put all his surrounding classmates in danger. Kaminari contained himself with a heavy emphasis on holding back his tears; these were contagious, and he would in his right mind to avoid another blunder.
The other girls barely felt any better. Asui's absence was regrettable, but Aizawa had spoken. As for the boys, Midoriya was subject to most thoughts – after Mineta. As a hero always caring for others, the green-haired student once again was the center of all hopes. That a friend wanted to flee from him, or even worse…probably was unbearable for him, hence their empathy. Mineta's written speeches shared a common ambiguity, about the boy's abstruse intention to stay alive.
Seconds passed, only succeeding in making their unease a great deal more intense.
"Are you alright, Fumikage-kun?" Sato asked the quaking bird hero.
He looked not only down in the dumps and woozy, but also unlikely to fully wake up before the next night.
"It's my Dark Shadow." Fumikage groggily explained. "I-I had trouble controlling him and he almost destroyed my bedroom. I…I didn't sleep at all that night..."
Nobody had. Most nocturnal time had been spent sending messages on the phone to support each other. Rarely had Mineta's name been mentioned so many times since his disappearance. In a single night, the purple sheep had received more calls - from more contacts, acquaintances and caretakers - than in the lifetime of an internet start with an abundant social web.
"It's not so uncommon in your case, is it?" Sato guessed.
"This time was different." Fumikage said, the edges of his trembling beak chattering like a woodpecker's. "I wanted to set Dark Shadow free for a while. If I don't do that regularly, it drives him crazy and it corrupts me as well. But I committed the mistake of thinking about Mineta right at this moment. I…pictured him on his own, lost in the darkness of the night. S-so much darkness! I couldn't help but put myself in his shoes…and it backfired. Had I not regained control on time…"
He was babbling deliriously in a wooly, "dark emo mod". Whenever the theme of darkness was being discussed, Fumikage's voice became theatrical and his gestures those of a horror storyteller.
"He could have been a good friend, a master of shadows thriving in the darkest shade of black just like me. If only he had learned to tame his demons, instead of yielding to them… But I didn't see anything wrong with the darkness deep inside him before it was too late. I feel…unheroic. What a dark fate!"
His dark-sided drama queen behavior initially embarrassed his friends, until they realized the tears rolling on his beak were sincere. For what it was, his classmates were "moderately" entertained by this zany show of dramatic stage play. More importantly, Fumikage's upset feelings toned down the whole situation and made it less alarming.
Fumikage usually looked cold, distant and far too serious. Now that a truly dark event had occurred, he was looking all but serious. However, his classmates knew him enough to be certain that he was. Through this unique trait of attraction for darkness, the birdy student proved capable of showing empathy for anyone suffering.
In the meantime, Kirishima noted that a brooding Bakugo had stepped away. Unlike most previous times when such over-the-top emotional outbursts had occurred, he was not wearing his scornful looks and intimidating faces.
"You seem preoccupied…" Kirishima commented.
Bakugo said nothing to complete his more loquacious body language, but silence was enough of a message to clearly send his orange-dressed friend packing. My question was stupid. Who wouldn't be preoccupied at a time like this?
The Grenade Student turned his back on the class, left the common areas with a defeated expression and a pair of hands trapped in his pockets. Iida was about to ask what many wanted to ask, but Kirishima pretended everything was okay to shush any indiscreet questions.
They would be back soon.
Kirishima ran after Bakugo in a narrow corridor.
Reluctant to engage in a conversation, the explosive boy "softy" rebuffed him several times. To no avail, as his sturdy friend was sticking to him like caramel paste to a spoon. Kirishima wasn't a fool however, and took a look through the windows to check nobody was eavesdropping from neighboring rooms. Should Bakugo eventually open his mouth and speak his mind - with all due private or sensitive content - the walls better had been sleeping soundly with their ears turned off.
"Leave me the fuck alone, Hedgehog Hair!"
"I can't, Bakugo." Kirishima ignored the injunction. "In moments like this, we should be helping each other, not running away. One was already too much."
It was brashly true, but maybe not the best way to raise Bakugo's spirits.
"I don't need no help! Stop following me or get ready to have your ass kick–"
"I AM ready, you spiky-headed bastard! If that's how it goes, don't hold your punches."
Surprise had Bakugo turn over in utter puzzlement. Kirishima was now openly challenging him to answer back – using his mouth, if not his fists. The Red Riot Hero stood ready to fight him seriously, his body armor hardening to its max capacity. At the same time, his defenses were lowered and arms stretched out to Bakugo. It was his best way to indicate his Grenade friend had the ample opportunity to use him as a punching-ball. Blowing off steam never had been easier.
But the ash-blond student turned away, letting out a growl of contempt. Kirishima got annoyed and grabbed him by the shoulder. Oh no, you won't!
Bakugo lost his temper in turn, threw himself at Red Riot, and pressed him against a wall with his strangling upper hand standing by. Nevertheless, the short-tempered student didn't use his Quirk, as he usually did when intimidating a classmate. No triggering smalls explosions, blowing the smoke into the opponent's airways or fuming in colorful language. His sole physical strength – boosted by an unexpectedly-intense inner rage - sufficed to have Kirishima raise the white flag.
Although there was a problem. A strange, cold feeling of bittersweet frustration glowed in his eyes. This mock fight had lasted for a single second, but Bakugo was out of breath. Oxygen wasn't the only thing his mouth struggled to catch into his lungs. Words loathed to cross through his sealed lips as well, but the other way round. Traffic jams in both directions.
"I…don't want it to happen again." he murmured enigmatically.
His tone was that of a confession. Kirishima said nothing, staring back at him with no judgmental attitude instead. However, his wide-open eyes screamed "what?", and burned with the impatience to hear the truth exposed.
Unbeknown to him, Bakugo was living through a traumatic childhood experience again.
There once was a time, when Bakugo's age consisted only of one numeral. A time when he'd have another friend in primary school. Ekiken, an aggressive, unruly and arrogant bully with villainous traits, only days younger. He was Bakugo's assisting antihero and tyrannical sidekick, whom the junior grenade boy regarded the way junior Midoriya regarded All Might. As a great comrade, a useful second-in-terror – and a future great man, unlike a despised nerd.
One day however, Ekiken had a change of heart. That day when he saw Midoriya offering his helping hand to Bakugo, after he fell off a small bridge into a river. Midoriya Izuku, a Quirkless squirt who couldn't stop drooling in admiration for Bakugo - despite it not being mutual, and notwithstanding the hate Bakugo vowed him for absolutely no legitimate reason. Since that fateful event, the unruly boy number two had tried his best to change into someone better. To mark this new beginning, he had apologized to Midoriya. On himself and Bakugo's behalf.
Fatal mistake.
Feeling betrayed and backstabbed, Bakugo never had forgiven him. Midoriya making him appear as if he needed aid from someone beneath him was already too much. But this? Plainly insulting. Bakugo had to exact revenge, but he wouldn't have the time for it.
A few days later, while trying to convince other children to change as well, Ekiken was beaten up with severe violence. Ironically, the bullies behind this drubbing happened to be several of Bakugo's classmates. Their violent behavior had a single origin: Bakugo's influence on them.
Following the beat-up, his traumatized friend was removed from the school and the guilty bullies expelled, leaving Bakugo to feel hurt and robbed of his friendship. Right at a moment when Bakugo had himself considered the option of changing. What was the point of trying something his pride opposed, especially since his ego had married betrayal? After all, Bakugo was a natural-born genius, the strongest and best of all. Demonstrating humility to a stupid flyweight without a future? Not even in his dreams. The strong never changed for the weak. No way.
While growing up, these days of tumult were eclipsed from his memory, but not completely.
Being forgotten. That's what that traitor deserved, didn't he? Why would Bakugo grow attached to people whose original sin was weakness? His classmate had turned into a weakling, from the moment another weakling's influence had overcome Bakugo's. The impulsive boy had to remain the best, no matter the cost, as the most amazing hero always won in the end.
It was a long time ago, a thing of the past.
But Bakugo never had forgotten how guilty he had felt, when the news of his best friend leaving school because of him had reached his ears. Never had his heart forgotten about the damn nerd responsible for causing such a messy trauma. Midoriya the traitor, the weak, the enemy. Midoriya…the one Bakugo failed to apologize to, reconcile with, change for.
His own failure, twice as painful since Midoriya had stolen the top spot by gaining a new Quirk - a better Quirk meant for him only - as a way of vengeance granted from destiny itself.
This past story was sad, but it wouldn't help it repeating itself in the present.
Mineta Minoru was nowhere near being like Bakugo, but they were clones of each other in a specific way, both conditioned with life's darkest sense of humor.
Bakugo was born with all the talents in the world, a rock-solid self-confidence and people only weaker than him to compare to. The only person whom he couldn't dominate through violence was his mother – even more violent than he was. She'd yell at him, insult him, hit him. And support him, encourage him, cheer him up no matter what. By pushing himself to the top, Bakugo would make her proud. She'd still yell at him, insult him and hit him. Out of love. And her hot-blooded son was fine with it, as violence had always cemented his life and values.
Mineta had received an analogous education, but followed the opposite path. He was born an ugly dwarf, with a lame Quirk and no obvious skill. He too had been raised through violence. From this experience, he had learned a single lesson: hating himself and doing anything in his power to be hated back were his only choices.
Bakugo had sensed it before almost everybody. He had been first to notice Mineta's pain, how he slowly drifted away and felt ostracized. Bakugo had known it all. He had done nothing.
The final record was abysmal: Bakugo had lost Ekiken, a beloved friend, by his own fault. He had since failed to win Midoriya's friendship back. He had failed to save himself from the arrogance of his own demons. And he had failed to help a classmate whose problems he had been first to see, but among the last to react to.
For someone who craved to be the best hero, it was a shame. The ultimate failure.
"That's…so ma-manly!" Kirishima stammered with a shaky, emotion-filled voice. "Your name should become the definition of it."
Bakugo's entire face turned tomato red. Not only had he unconsciously shown Kirishima his soft side with a tear in the corner of the eye, but he also had unwillingly adopted Midoriya's habit of mumbling aloud the content of his thoughts. Kirishima had not missed a single word of it.
"Stop it, you're shaming me!" he fumed, more embarrassed than ever.
"Being manly like you are is truly affecting me! I'm sensitive to that." Kirishima admitted, having a hard time repressing a good-hearted giggle. "Not you mention that it's YOU who made me cry and it's so fun–"
"Shut up!"
Bakugo didn't find the will to slap his friend in the face, and his other free not-yet-primed fist blew into pacified fingers, and his arm fell flat along his waistline. Unlike Mineta, Bakugo being able to cry in front of someone else rarely occurred, unless at the price of a heavy wound in his pride.
"Sometimes, you remind me of Midoriya." Kirishima insolently said, running an obvious risk. "You guys have more things in common than you th–"
"What did I just told you?"
Bakugo's hand gripping Kirishima by the collar still hadn't given up on letting go of him. It went right up his neck in anger for express strangulation. How dared he compare him to damn Deku?
"S-sorry!" Kirishima gasped for air. "I shouldn't have said that."
The squeezing hand broke its grip and came loose. On his contracted face, Bakugo disapproved of Kirishima's words. In his heart, he already knew who was right. Spoiler alert: it wasn't Bakugo.
Evidence was all over him, so crystal-clear he only saw it then.
Beforehand, Bakugo used to want to be like All Might. A long-lost, bygone, historical time to be told about in the past tense. Midoriya – One for All heir – would become the new All Might, because he had the required purity at heart. His rival had succeeded where the former bully had failed: overcoming his own nature of low-confident loser, and pushing the boundaries of the impossibly by acquiring a Quirk.
As a reward for his persistent work, driven by goodness and a truly noble objective, Midoiya had defeated his fears. A battle Bakugo had fought as well, but never had won – confining himself to hiding his weaknesses behind a wall of overconfidence without solving them.
Midoriya was the new All Might, and Bakugo wanted to become like him. No fucking way! Bakugo anxiously challenged the thought. I ain't got nothing to do with…with…
Or maybe All Might had nothing to do with it. Maybe…Bakugo just wanted his old Deku back. Not the loser, not the whipping boy. Only the friend. The one with a peaceful arm extending the hand of friendship to him, in that stupidly shallow steam.
A hand good-old "Kacchan" would not reject this time.
"It is not too late…Katsuki-kun." Kirishima reaffirmed.
Not too late for Mineta, and not too late to reconcile. Perhaps a decade of strained relationships was a necessary sacrifice for Bakugo to open his eyes. A heavy price, which could still be bought back. Midoriya was as determined as he was patient. Time was not up yet.
"Are you sure 'bout that…Eijiro?"
Bakugo calling Kirishima by his first name – and not the first descriptive insult in mind - was a shot in the arm. It jazzed up the Sturdy Hero's face as though he had been the recipient of a love letter. As a direct consequence, a balky Bakugo got in a sweat. Fuck! I meant "Hedgehog Hair"! he cursed himself, dreading the foreknowledge of how it would hop up the Sturdy Hero's boisterous ego. Why the hell did I say that? You fool, don't you look at me like I'm ga–
"I'll help you, my friend. With me by your side, you'll make a change!"
For a second, Bakugo was doubtful about how well he had cleaned his ears in the morning. Were they obstructed? He swore he had heard his classmate say something like "you will change".
And hell he would.
One day, I'll have to let Midoriya know about it! Kirishima promised himself. Seeing them in good terms again is the best thing I can do to help Katsuki-kun heal his wounds.
He offered his friend a firm hand that would be stretched out only once.
"We need to rescue him. Are you in?"
Bakugo brushed Kirishima's arm away with his hand. Instead, he went for his collar and seized it again. Firmly, but without the rage that traditionally associated with it.
"Handshakes are for pussies asking for peace because they lost!" he roared powerfully. "We are at war against time. A classmate is in danger and we don't want another sacrifice."
The first being Midoriya. Kirishima knew it and both their minds thought alike.
"But I want to make sure you get your fighting spirits back, and have the guts to do what it takes to rescue Ball Head…no matter the motherfuckin' cost! So…are YOU in?"
"No matter the cost?" Kirishima thought back on the Sunday curfew. "I see what you mean, but Aizawa told us to–"
Respecting rules and forbiddances were also for losers.
"You've got three seconds to decide, Hedgehog Hair. If your balls can harden as much as your body, you know it's the right thing to do. Sitting your ass here doing nothing with your arms crossed would be an insult to heroes. I'm gonna ask you one more time…Are. You. In, Eijiro fucking Kirishima?"
It took no time at all for Kirishima's eyes to become supercharged with willpower.
Risking potential disciplinary action was an acceptable trade for a classmate's life. Yakuzas had given him rougher times. He grabbed Bakugo's collar in a mirrored gesture and nodded passionately. A noble cause driving Bakugo to give his best was a fantastic show Kirishima would never get bored of, not even after hell froze over.
And he said yes, in the hope it would forever maintain Bakugo's motivation at its peak. Twice as manly as before! he felt the excitement overcome him. I'm heading for overdose…
They eventually gripped each other's hand in a wrestling position, as a friendly reflex.
"For Mineta!" two voices blared.
The duo of warmongering boys shortly went back to the common areas.
It came as no surprise that the class was being torn apart by a dispute over the way things were to be handled. For this round, it mostly was Kaminari – a fierce advocate of rushing headfirst from the outset - against all who had elected for a softer approach.
"You can't blame Aizawa for not choosing you!" Jirou repeated patiently. "Don't you remember what Mineta said in his letter? Your affinity with him compromises you."
"If he sees you coming, he won't stop running!" Yaoyorozu argued. "What if Mineta-kun believes that his former friend is being used as bait to trap him?"
Kaminari's riotous stance calmed down for a while, as he pondered the thought. It failed to change his mind, strengthening it instead.
"You're all wrong." Kaminari persisted, stubborn as a mule. "You're talking like Mineta has no reason to trust us and he thinks we'd be deceitful enough for such tactics. But it is the exact contrary. Mineta hates himself so much he does not trust himself to be our friend anymore, or us to be his. He'd rather feel guilty and not defend himself! He fell into a hole he dug for himself. He needs a ladder to come out of it, and we must hold it out to him."
They all knew he was right to say that, and wrong in his decision to jump into action thoughtlessly. What am I hoping for? Like I'm still worthy of being called a friend…
Both Jiro's hands landed on his shoulders, her lips close to his and their four eyes stared at each other intensely. One pair on the verge of tears, another filled with tenderness. On these hard times of masks falling off and repressed feelings coming undisclosed, Jiro had had enough with secrets. To hell with hiding their feelings.
"I understand…sweetie, but Aizawa knows what he's doing. If Mineta takes to his heels when he sees you, it will only make things worse. However, someone like Midoriya has better chances. You know who he is, Denki-kun. He'd come so far as…as…
"…helping a villain?"
That's what she meant, but it was inappropriate to compare Mineta to what he had been unfairly associated with. Old reflexes from a harassed victim died hard. Kaminari himself was aware of all the work yet to be accomplished to fix their strained relationships. He couldn't blame his girlfriend for this blander, and he changed subject to save her dignity.
"What about Asui?" he asked.
"She represents us all." Uraraka explained, pointing out the girls around with her circling forefinger. "It started with us, and it might finish with us just as well. We're all counting on Asui for that."
Without showing it, Jiro's mind was full of doubts. Not summoning her boyfriend for a meeting to join the rescue team, and cleverly use him as an asset to get to Mineta, had to be acknowledged as a complete paradox. What was Aizawa thinking?
"You small fries haven't learned shit or what?"
There came Bakugo, once again facing a passive class with too much talk and not enough action on schedule. Kaminari himself was caught off-guard – they almost had succeeded in persuading him not to move an inch.
"Bakugo-san…I know I've sad bad things about you, but you really shouldn't be say–"
"It doesn't apply to you, Lightnings. At least, your balls haven't overheated yet."
Bakugo complementing him came as a bolt from the blue. It was something new.
"Alright losers, listen to me carefully: today's lockdown has been canceled by decree of yours fucking truly. Instead, real practical training on the field. Today's lesson will be of the rescue type. And it starts now, you give-up-easily bastards!"
"Bakugo, wait!" Jiro intervened. "You can't just force us to break the r–"
"Shut up Ears, and listen the fuck up. You too, Dunce Face!" Bakugo preliminarily warned Kaminari, offended by the way his short-tempered classmate had called her girlfriend. "Does saving a friend sounds good enough? We can either wait until Mineta is found – dead or alive – or go find him ourselves now. Why let the Frog, Mr. Friend-to-all-the-animals and the damn Nerd do all the job, while all twenty of us could be having fun hunting for balls? You cowardly custards went all out and ganged up on Ball Head, scolding the shit outta him. You did it together, teamwork style. So do me a favor and apologize to him together already, teamwork style too. Easy as ABC."
It seemed to work. Bakugo was a jerk in many aspects, but he had nothing to prove in the field of inspiring speeches. Previous examples – like his "let's kill with our sound!" diatribe before the School Festival – would not be forgotten any time soon.
"He is right." Iida said, surprising everyone.
The Class Rep had amends to make as well. His regret-scarred face screamed it. Iida had once chosen to disobey instructions, and join Midoriya's rescue party to save Bakugo. And he'd do it again. Once or twice a rule transgressor and a bad example set, who cared? As long as heroes did their best to save what could be saved.
Ashido originally was one of the firmest supporters of inaction – her remorse made her dead scared of facing Mineta. She finally found the courage to take action in the footsteps of Kirishima, her middle school classmate, all behind Bakugo. Uraraka was not opposed to witnessing her crush shining through his achievements in battle again. One by one, both girls and boys rallied them.
They all had reasons to break rules to fix a friendship. Quite an acceptable price for repairs that would have potentially lifetime consequences. Bakugo himself knew there was much to be gained. As a preliminary step, he would find out what it felt to apologize as a group – by participating in it. Only then, would the real work begin, and he'd take on the sensitive task of doing it individually, to a specific boy whose favorite color was green.
Fate's plan was perfect. Everything would come at the right moment. Hopefully.
The following minutes, the whole Heights Alliance complex went into an uproar and turned into a battle station on red alert. All the students ran back to their bedroom, packing their gears and hero equipment in backpacks.
In no time at all, they were ready for duty.
"Don't you think it's unfair Bakugo convinced them so easily?" Kaminari grumped while packing his disc-shaped pointers. "It's not like I didn't try!"
Jiro was waiting for him by his side, having already crammed her Stereo Boots and Headphones into her chock-full bag.
"I was wrong to try to dissuade you." she confessed, nervously twisting her matted earphone jacks with her fingers. "Let's just say that Bakugo had a more…hard-hitting point."
"If you say so…" Kaminari got mildly huffy.
His pouting expression was downright cuter than his fried-battery giggles. Jiro kissed him languorously, much to his delight and mollification.
"You've found an interesting way to be forgiven." Kaminari quipped. "It works well!"
She smilingly patted his nose and placed a hand over her chuckling mouth, gesticulating her tender displays of love through her elongated earlobes.
"Let's hope I won't have to kiss Mineta for the same result…" her boyfriend added.
They laughed, for a moment they wished wouldn't be the last.
Doing her own backpack, Yaoyorozu struggled to keep the questions of her mind at bay.
Lost in her thoughts, she collected flashbacks from that first night at the dorms. She had been among the selected few to console Asui as she cried, right after she expressed regrets about her severe choice of words and cowardly behavior while trying to stop Bakugo's rescue. It was the first time the Everything Hero had seen a classmate ashamed of lacking trust in her friends.
First but not last. Mineta had cried a lot as well, supposedly. On his own, without a single friend to console him. Yet Yaoyorozu remained unable to forget what the tiny dwarf had done to her, even worse than if she suffered from a manic-traumatic reflex of survival.
She still felt the detestable sensation of his groping hands stuck to her back, and the traumatic vision of his ogling eyes sneaking underneath the "do not cross" edges of her uniform skirt. It was something she would hardly get rid of, if not ever. It was a shame to her; being unable to move on and spot the difference between the former and the new.
As she angrily threw personal items into her bag, mad at herself, she realized they were not the right ones. Clothing? What am I doing?
She was packing her stuff as if she was to move out of the dorms, for good and real. A voice in her head connected this unconscious mistake to her upcoming mission. Should she fail to bring Mineta back safe and sound, she'd no longer earn a place among heroes. But it wasn't a univocal truth; only the guilt-ridden part of herself thought so. She was a hero no matter what. So did Mineta.
She shook her head energetically.
Gone were these times when any one of them could still be distrusted, or looked askance at. Mineta's behavior no longer justified it and mistakes had to be fixed. It didn't matter Aizawa had almost expelled most of Class 1-A earlier that same day, when she had joined alongside Midoriya to rescue her Explody McSplode of a classmate. It didn't matter breaking rules was a serious offense, and the threat of her teacher carrying out the expulsion threat hypothetically pending.
She still had a chance to be forgiven, but there was only one Mineta and no replacement for him. A mission was a mission.
Iida climbed down the stairs, among the earliest to be ready.
His shame had dissipated in the heat of the action. Not the misgivings about his legitimacy in representing for Class 1-A's nineteen students. One missing was one too much.
"If I can't bring him back, I'll quit!" he whispered for himself. "I swear I–"
Bakugo, who was catching up five steps at a time, joined the Class Rep. The eerie smile he threw at him wordlessly cut Iida off in his mumbling. It was just like before the nitro boy engaged in a fight while jeering at his enemies, but without the contempt that usually characterized him in such instances.
"You might be a pretty boring drag, but I sense you've got balls slowly growing. It was about fuckin' time. It's always like this in privileged families; it takes one hell of a time."
Iida was too excessively troubled and unsettled to even defend himself. Buckets of sweat popped up and his grey matter broke down. Were these free insults or something else? His air-chopping arms trembled unexpectedly, as mixed feelings fought a fierce battle in his mind to process such words and figure out the best answer. Iida reacted like a crashed software. His blank face said a lot about his inner soul-searching reassessment. Bakugo had his full attention, sort of.
Their noses came within a tiny air corridor of each other.
"Just quit already, if you truly want to. I don't give a crap!" Bakugo blurt out with what appeared like frustration. "But if you don't…promise me that you'll give your all. Full throttle, nothing less. Push yourself the hardest you can, like that day you came for me."
Iida was moved, in all honestly, and keeping the tears at bay proved difficult.
Bakugo had not forgotten the great deal of efforts invested into his rescue from Shigaraki's claws. Over was the time when Bakugo ridiculed Iida's privileged background; only present time mattered. When Bakugo asked something from anybody without actually calling him names, it was an offer one couldn't refuse. It applied for Class Reps.
Iida clenched his fists.
"I promise, Bakugo. Now, let's go."
"Stay behind me!"
The turbo teen chuckled, more happily and less sternly.
"Of course…"
Sunday morning, 02:00 p.m.
Everyone was here. All sixteen Class 1-A students. Their hyperactive Representative was back to moving his arms uncontrollably, and exhibiting his hilarious tics of hand gestures.
"Are you ready? Iida asked.
"Yes!"
"This is a very important mission we are about to start. Once we leave, there's no turning back. Class is supposed to have started already. Teachers will soon realize that we've skipped it. Even I don't know what will happen to us afterward. Maybe we'll all get expelled and never come back here. We must expect the worse."
He sure knows how to motivate troops… Class 1-A thought depressingly.
They all looked determined nevertheless, and even more eager to get started. Almost all.
"Shouldn't we let the teachers know and ask for permission first?"
Nervousness bore down on them. Taken aback, they cast probing eyes at Fumikage. Of all students renowned for their seriousness and dedication to their peers, why was he saying something so absurd?
"Wait, it was a joke! Nobody cares what the teachers think; it won't save our classmate."
They completely blanked him, as embarrassment and unease reached their peak. Fumikage might as well have been talking to a brick wall.
"Is it really so hard to notice I was kidding?"
His classmates forced a smile on their mouths. It was fake and only made him feel more invisible. Uraraka scratched her hair in hesitation.
"Well…we're not used to hearing you making jokes. It's a bit weird coming from a…mysterious person like you." she tried her best.
"But…it was a nice try!" Sero tried to reassure him. "You should work on your humor to improve it. Today, we just saw…the shadow of it."
They laughed again. For real, this time. Not to tease him, but because the mission-related anguish had to be released in one way or another. The stark reality behind Mineta's predicament was never far away.
Upset, the Bird Hero went pouting sadly in a corner, twitching his fingers in defeat.
"Even my humor is too dark for them. It is depressing. Nobody understands me. How I feel for you now, Mineta!"
"You look funny that way. Join me to the Dark Side and we will rule them all!" Dark Shadow laughed at his sulky, comical stance.
Fumikage rebuffed him silently. On the outside, he looked ever more tensed and insecure. As he mumbled over his epic failure, Uraraka feared Midoriya's storm of hiraganas would return in a more aggressive, dark-side-like way. She rubbed his shoulders.
"Don't you worry. You'll do better next time!" she illuminated his fur with the bright white of her smile. "Thanks to you, we had a good laugh and it helped us feel better. Come now, we've got a friend to save and I'm sure you'll do great. "
Quite moody and reserved so far, Todoroki eventually gave the signal to leave the Heights Alliance.
"Let's go."
"Stay behind me, Half-and-Half Bastard!"
"Sorry."
Bakugo was back to his original, deliciously disrespectful self. Just like good-old time, with the beneficial aftereffects of downplaying global anxiety.
"I don't get why they're laughing at Bakugo insulting Todoroki, but my jokes leave them indifferent."
Uraraka dragged him by the arm as they left.
"I'll teach you how to make funny jokes when this is all over. For now, we need you to do what you're best at: a creature of the dark. I know you're fond of it. Right now, as we're talking, Mineta is lost in a place that I think is very, very dark. You don't what being lost in darkness is, but he doesn't and you can help him get out of it. It makes you an important element, Fumikage-kun!"
The Bird Hero blushed in satisfaction; it was about time someone saw through the appearances and understood him so well. He smiled. Something so rare Uraraka felt privileged.
"We have a deal." he decided.
Return to paradoxical sleep.
Mineta fell on his knees, shivers piercing through and climbing up his legs, all the way from the cold wooden floor of the stage he was back on. He was no longer tied to an electric chair, but felt dizzy and numb like he had been struck by a lightning. The most serious source of danger arose from the enraged crowd. A wave of fist-brandishing watchers swarmed the stage maddeningly. They pushed the purple performer to the ground, pounced on him and knocked him unconscious.
Fade to black. Dream in a dream.
The judge made a spectacular comeback in a hellish staging – everything from visual effects to sounds was meant to recreate the perfect theatrics for a Satanist movie. In the form of a giant faceless grim reaper, the judge looked down on Mineta from abysmal heights and pointed on him a finger the size of a car.
"Time is up, grape boy. Your judgment has come."
Yet it all sounded fake and looked like a smokescreen. Mineta couldn't tell why, but an angelic voice deep inside exhorted him to stand up, denounce the fraud and speak out against injustice.
"By the power vested on me, I find you guilty and sentence you to–"
"Enough!"
Mineta had never wished to say it aloud. Emancipated from the bars of his jail cell of a mind, his thoughts now had a conscience of their own and spoke for themselves. Disconcerted by the courageous boldness in the defendant's voice, the judge lost twice his size in a split second, and his body size regressed to a smaller volume. Seeing him losing such a big percentage of the threat he posed exhilarated Mineta's self-confidence.
"W-what did you say?" the judge stuttered.
"That I've had enough of all this bullshit!" Mineta completely lost patience. "I never asked to live this unfair life, alright? I've got my flaws, it's true. I've made mistakes, it's true. But I DON'T give you the right to judge me!"
The judge kept shrinking like an ice cream melting under the sun. The more Mineta vented his long-repressed hurt feelings, the less dangerous his inflated interlocutor seemed. His face erupted in tears of relieving sadness. The people around exploded in indignation, armed themselves with rotten tomatoes that had no smell, and let the last remnants of anger ring out, turning them at both the judge and Mineta indiscriminately. The grape boy gave them a heartfelt middle finger in return, his own self-reliance flaring up.
"Go fuck yourselves!" he fumed boisterously. "I ain't giving a shit about what you guys think of me. Unhappy with this show? Just leave and watch another one. 'Cause I'm part of it baby, and I ain't leaving!"
He turned his challenging eyes to the now life-sized judge.
"You keep calling me a bad person, a coward but I have my own suspicions about you."
"What…do you mean?"
"That you're hiding your true identity and I'm going to find out. Like, right now!"
Unlike in his previous dreams, Mineta had no issue running like in real life. He rushed through the crowd, crossing it faster than a bolt of lightning in the sky. He heartlessly stamped on feet, pushed people to the ground, punched and kicked without a care for the world. It took him roughly two seconds to reach the judge and come face to face with him – a meter away from each other.
"I want to see who's hiding under that mask. I can't believe you just have no face."
"All you have to do is ask."
That was a big surprise. Instead of fighting back, the judge was now mirroring Mineta's behavior in the way of a possessed twin, but in reverse. The boy had grown sufficient willpower and coolness to become the one giving orders, to the judge who would receive them henceforth.
"Remove that mask." he coldly ordered.
And so the judge did. His protective cover was nothing but a flat, skin-colored surface behind which a weird-looking paste of mashed grape dripped from the traits of a familiar face.
"What? No way!" Mineta couldn't believe it.
It was his own face he could make out under the hood. The same head too, with a four-sphered mohawk crest, childishly round cheeks, neutral expression, blank eyes and sluggish lip corners drawn downward.
"You wanted to see who I was, and your wish was granted." The Mineta judge spoke.
"But…how could you be me?"
"Because you are your own judge, Mineta." his clone said. "Therefore I exist."
"How so?"
Mineta – the original one – turned his awestruck eyes to the assembly of people still gathered on the stage. There, he saw a carbon-copy army of little Minetas reflecting the exact same look.
"You and I are but one." his clone continued. "It was you who asked to see yourself as what I am. A judge. The more you hate yourself, the more you judge."
It sounded too easy, looked too simple and appeared far too boldly-inaccurate to just believe.
"Why do I feel like I never had the choice to ask for anything to begin with?" Mineta skeptically doubted, his words penetratingly reminiscent of the pain his past had imposed on him.
"Because you can't stop lying to yourself, and you need to stop doing that." his replica said.
He was downright lecturing him, unflinchingly. How more impudent could he get?
"No…it's not true…" Mineta objected, losing his own will to deny the obvious.
"It is." the judge-turned-defender declared, totally composed as if he always had been supposed to be like that. "Let me tell you something: nobody chooses how he is born, but anyone can decide to change what his destiny will be. Do you want to change, Mineta?"
Now they were talking, and Mineta felt like answering with something positive.
"Yes, I do."
"Then stop asking for other people's opinions." he ordered, pointing out the crowd with a finger that smelled like open rejecting. "Your opinion is the only one that matters." he clarified, more calmly, the same finger now touching Mineta's heart. "If you want to change, decide so. Make the move. You, not them. Will you?"
The real Mineta clenched his fists with enough power to crush the air inside.
"Yes., I fucking will!"
"So be it."
With this, the judge had pronounced Mineta acquitted of all charges. He thereupon took a permanent leave and vanished, along with his pacified duplicates and the surrounding scenery.
Fade to white.