He's an idiot.

He's an absolute fool.

Shinsou has already chained up his bike and has been waiting for ten minutes outside the building that Medama had indicated in her text message. And she's nowhere to be found.

It's early evening. The skies are just beginning to turn a darker shade of blue and there's a cold chill in the air that's causing him to break out into goosebumps.

He's getting looks for loitering outside the building. It's a gym from what he can tell. So there's at least that . He doesn't recognize it and, when he'd looked up the name, all he got was an incredibly shitty website that didn't exactly get his hopes up. The only thing he could really figure out was that they did gymnastics and that they were semi-anonymous when it came to quirks.

Medama is nowhere to be found.

He shouldn't have gotten his hopes up but-

He supposes there are some aspects to his personality that he gets from his mother because he had , even if he'd known better. He was a stupid idiot with way too much trust and hope in humanity and- Shinsou just wanted a break. He just wanted one person other than his parents that didn't think he was a villain, or a monster in the making, or some other kind of horrible person all because of his quirk-

Shinsou crosses his arms with a huff, already dialing a number in his phone, "Hey, Mom?"

"Oh, is everything okay-? Do you need me to call anyone-?"

"No." He says, flatly. Dully.

He can hear the excitement on the other end. "So then-?"

"Ditched."

And can hear it immediately shatter to a million pieces.

He kicks a rock, watching it skitter away.

"Just letting you know I'm heading back home now."

"I- o-okay, Hitoshi. I-" He half expects her to ask him to give it a couple more minutes, can hear it in her voice, but she doesn't. She knows that it wouldn't solve anything. "A-Alright. I'm… I'm sorry. I'll see you when you get back, neh?"

"Yeah."

He sighs, running a hand through his hair and wonders how awkward it's going to be tomorrow. When he comes into class and Medama starts avoiding him to join those 'new friends' she was excited about making, even though they'd treated her like an alien exhibit and he'd been the only one to try and help- He shakes his head. There was nothing he could do about it now.

Shinsou unlocks his bike from the bike rack and throws a leg over the seat, he has half a mind to send Medama a pissed off text but he can't even find the energy in him anymore to be angry. At least it was something simple this time and not some sort of trap that he'd walked straight into-

"Wait-!"

He twitches.

"Shinsou, wait up!"

And turns to see her running up the street, one arm waving and trying to catch his attention and- Shinsou frowns at her as she rushes up. It… It looked almost as if she had run the whole way here. He waits for her to come to a stop in front of him, still poised on his bike to leave her behind.

Medama comes to a sliding stop, her sneakers squeaking against the pavement.

"Sorry, s-sorry-" She huffs, out of breath, bending at the waist and hands on her knees as she tries to re-catch it. "I forgot I had to change before I left home."

Shinsou glares at her, scowl growing.

"And you couldn't have sent me a message."

She wheezed, sounding hoarse. "N-No… service- when I realized- the time, so I just- ow, tried to hurry."

"It took you fifteen minutes to change."

Shinsou deadpans and he thinks the sweat on her brow isn't just from her rush to get here.

(Medama stared at her floor length mirror; it was old, cracked and covered in stickers at the bottom but she could still see most of herself above the calf just fine.

"...I want to look cute. "

And, well, then she couldn't decide on which of her outfits she should wear and was actually made out of something that could get dirty and covered in sweat without getting uncomfortable.)

(It was worth it.)

He glanced down.

She was dressed in a pair of simple high waisted pink leggings with what looked like a floral pattern up the side of the legs in a mesh insert, a matching pink cropped hoodie on- one that only really covered her shoulders and arms- and a white racer back sports bra that matched her hair and the bright white and clunky sneakers she'd tossed on. To him, it didn't exactly look like an outfit that would've taken fifteen minutes to pick out and put on but, then again, he didn't realize how many outfits she'd gone through before finally deciding on this one- both for comfort and style.

Shinsou looked notably underdressed in a dark purple sweatshirt and old black joggers and kind of busted tennis shoes with frayed purple laces.

Medama just smiled, tugging a strand of hair that threatened to fall out of her bun and pushing it back into the many clips that struggled to keep her curly hair contained. Her bangs still fell over her left eye and hid it away from view, but the rest was tucked and braided, and her face flushed pink, her eyes slightly crinkled in worry-

Shinsou looks away.

(There's a pout on his lips.

And he can't help the blush that slowly begins to form, even if it frustrates him. He's just glad he can hide by ducking into his sweatshirt and keeping his eyes firmly off of her.)

"Don't keep me waiting."

(Medama seems to glow.)

He mumbles, hopping back off his bike and wheeling it back to the bike rack.

Medama just grins and doesn't even wait a second after he finishes locking it back up before her arm is looping under his elbow and pulling him towards the building- "Don't worry, I won't!" Not exactly what he had in mind but Shinsou doesn't pull away from her grip.

He's dragged into the building without much fuss as Medama makes a beeline for the front desk, the worker looks up and- "Oh, Tasatsu-san, this isn't when you normally come in." And Shinsou shifts uncomfortably as the desk workers' eyes shift over to him and seem to take in his appearance with an unimpressed look. "Who is this?"

Shinsou suddenly had the horrible realization that Medama was a regular, especially seeing how she'd been instantly recognized, and that he was notably not.

(Suddenly Shinsou is aware of how clean and pristine everything is and the way he stands out with his eyebags and wild hair and old clothes-)

"Shinsou Hitoshi. Can I use one of my guest passes?"

"Of course. Is there a level you would prefer that is equivalent or below your own-?"

"Platinum, please!"

The desk workers' eyebrows raise, "And how long would you like this guest pass to work?"

Medama actually pauses and seems to mull it over rather intensely before she asks, turning to him in interest, "When did you say the Sports Festival was again?"

And Shinsou is pulled along before he can get much of a word in edgewise or to even ask what exactly is going on before he's being handed a plastic card with his picture on it and the words 'guest' in bold capped letters and a purplish-silver star on it with a barcode and the note under quirks- does not need personalized quirk equipment without even a notation or warning about his brainwashing. He stares at it like it's a foreign object, unaware that he's biting his lip and looking-

(His eyes are shiny and his gaze is wide and hopeful and he looks not unlike a small kitten who's dreams are coming true.

Medama's smile turns soft.)

-"This is too much." He blurts and then whips upward, a suspicious glint in his eyes. "I don't want your pity. I'm not poor. I can get my own membership." He could. He really could. His family was well off, even if they didn't really look like it, even if his mother couldn't get much work, and as much as they were a bit of a pack of pennypinchers- only really buying stuff they needed rather than spoiling themselves- Shinsou could get his own damn membership.

(And now she's exasperated.

But also happy. Because she absolutely would have offered a free pass but she also liked that he refused to take advantage of what she knew was one of her most major of vices: generosity.)

"Think of it as more of a free trial. Just something to work with until the Sports Festival. I wasn't just gonna let you use me for free exercise equipment," she says blandly, it sounds like she's scoffing and everything, looking deeply unimpressed by Shinsou's conclusions, and- for some odd reason- that seems to have him relaxing a bit, "besides, we're friends." Shinsou blinks at her very slowly when she says that. "I just wanted an excuse to hang out and you wanted to train. This kills two birds with one stone, doesn't it?"

Shinsou still doesn't look convinced.

So Medama crooks a smirk in his direction, looking downright sly.

"I don't even know if you can handle this gym anyways. The instructors are very particular about who they teach and- hm- I don't know if you'll be able to keep up!" He stares at her, absolutely seeing what she was trying to do. It didn't mean it wasn't working though. "My instructor selects her students, you see, and- aa." She makes a show of looking him up and down and watches one of his eyes twitch. "I don't know~"

Shinsou stares at her.

"I'm not going to fall for that."

Medama smiles.

...

...

Shinsou falls for it.

No questions asked.

Hook, line, and sinker. He tries to meet the challenge head on in a fit of bullheadedness and the urge to rise to the occasion and-

Shinsou lands flat on his back, breath knocked out of his lungs, and the mat underneath him barely acts as a buffer.

Medama crouchs over him, sweat dripping down her own brow and… well, she looks like she's handling this much, much better than him. "Wow. You're doing way better than I did my first time," she admits, "I broke my nose and everything." Entirely her own fault, they'd been practicing how to fall correctly and she'd slipped and managed an incredible example of how to fall incorrectly . "So… how'd you like it?"

Shinsou grunts, none too pleased with her playful attitude.

"Why…" he breathed, "...do you have a self-defense instructor anyway?"

"You should always know how to protect yourself." Medama blinks, as if she doesn't even understand why he would need to ask. And there's something blank and bland in her voice as she says it, like she doesn't want to elaborate. And she doesn't. "Want to switch over to stretches?"

"Oh, don't take him away from me so soon, 'Satsu!"

Shinsou wants to be a hero and he wants to train, in order to do that: he needs proper instructors. Medama's mind may have jumped ahead a couple steps, perhaps in easing him into the possibility of getting a gym membership or, you know, asking him if he even wanted one when she'd first brought him in, but...

He, vaguely, wants to complain but he can't. This is the most help anyone's ever been and Shinsou really can't say anything.

So, when Shinsou had followed along after her, he'd also jumped the gun himself a bit when he met the competent instructor that Medama introduced him to. Sora was a simple looking woman- in terms of lacking a striking, quirky appearance- with wild brown hair, brown eyes, and whose only prominent feature was the impressive assortment of muscles and scars that she sported on her hands. She was also looking completely unwinded by the fact that she'd just flipped Shinsou straight over her shoulder.

"She's been teaching me since I was a kid… I mean, I usually only come to the gym for yoga and some gymnastics nowadays but Sora-sensei always has time to teach whenever I want to get some practice in too."

"Aa."

It explains why Medama was instantly recognized at the front desk, he supposes, even though she admitted to usually only coming in the mornings since she apparently had commitments outside of school that she hadn't elaborated on. She also hadn't been coming in as often as she usually did and Sora had decided that she was the perfect example to show Shinsou how to defend against an attacker- "Speaking of, gymnastics might be something you're interested in?" Medama offers him a hand and he takes it. Sora calls for a water break and hops off and out of sight for the moment. "I'm sure it can only help."

Shinsou raises a hand. Because he doesn't even want to think about that right now. Not when his sides are screaming at him and his arms are shaking from overuse. And he must really be an idiot- because this is clearly the most elaborate plan of beating him up that he's ever experienced- but he thinks that Medama might actually be trying to be his friend.

(Shocking, he knows.)

"Medama."

"Shinsou."

No nicknames.

He opens his mouth, struggles for words and it comes out in a wheeze instead. He doesn't really know what he'd planned to say. Maybe ask what was really wrong with her because this was all- it was just so much and so overwhelming. She was trying to help him become a hero, and she never asked… why. He just- didn't get it. Didn't understand how she wasn't taking one look at him and questioning his worth and his plans and everything about him.

( That part of him is bubbling with hope. More than it ever had before.

He can't help but look at his hand, the palm that she'd taken without hesitation when he'd placed it on her own and she'd pulled him up and back onto his feet.)

He's going to keep coming back to this gym. With or without her. Because Sora hadn't even asked for his quirk when he'd walked in, just teased Medama for bringing in a boy and he'd pretended not to listen and be equally as flushed as her by the whole situation. And he thinks he could actually come here and learn and he wouldn't have to be afraid of someone trying to kill him in what was supposed to be a spar and… and Medama is tilting her head at him still, waiting for him to say something and Shinsou buries his face in his hands in a, frankly, terrible attempt to hide the small smile on his face.

"...Who were those people you wanted to make friends with?"

-0-

Shinsou does not know how to throw a punch.

("First, we'll go over some basics, how to throw a punch-?"

"I know how to throw a punch."

"You don't. Trust me. In fact, everything you think you know? Discard it! I- oh, Tasatsu-! Can you take a break from your cardio? I want to use you as an example!"

Shinsou had winced when Medama took a hit to the gut and looked about ready to fall over. Shit. She'd been holding padding and everything too.)

Shinsou doesn't know how to defend himself.

("Imagine I'm a mugger, I have a knife, and I'm coming at you from the front. First instinct? What is it?"

She attacks him without warning and they all learn what it is.

It's to freeze.

The face that Sora makes is one that has him brutally ashamed of his natural reaction. "Running. Fighting. Those are both good instincts to have because you're, at least, reacting . Freezing though? That's the worst. But we can train that out of you at least-)

He can't break a headlock.

(He chokes, throat squeezing and head swimming in panic and- "Sora, stop! You're hurting him!"

"Oh shit, kid."

Shinsou wheezes coughing and he pushes Medama away when she rushes to his side, looking increasingly worried and guilty.

"Kid, you gotta tap out. I wouldn't have known-"

"How-" He coughs. "-else would I learn?"

"Through practice, not unconsciousness.")

It's frustrating. It makes him realize all his flaws and pathetic parts. But it's-

(Medama hits the floor and rolls away, breath catching in her throat in surprise and, when she looks up, it's to Shinsou looking equally as surprised-

He'd managed to partially throw her over his shoulder when she'd played the assailant in the scenario. Throwing her off his back. And, sure, it was awkward and he hadn't committed to it all the way through but he'd done it.

He'd done something. )

He's learning.

He's going to be a hero.

It hadn't seemed realistic… before. He hadn't realized it, hadn't realized how little he had done up until this point. It's just been a couple hours- and, maybe. Maybe that's nothing.

Maybe it means nothing.

But to Shinsou-

This is something he can do. This is something he can work with, work towards- as he is. And maybe it's not the Hero Course, or top of the line, but it's at least his own.

-0-

"Hey, Shinsou?"

"Mnh."

"What kind of hero do you even want to be?"

He's shaking. His hands and legs are practically vibrating and he's covered in sweat and wiping his brow- he's tired. Absolutely spent. And he's never felt so full of energy in his life. It's like it's getting pent up, the adrenaline, and he thinks he might go crazy if he doesn't do anything but Sora-sensei gives him a look if he so much as tries to take a step back towards the mats.

Instead, he sips water that's a bit hard to swallow from an old water bottle covered in peeling cat stickers and smeared graffiti that'd once been insults from his fellow middle schoolers and instead turns to stare at Medama. Or, perhaps, ogle. Vaguely wincing at the, frankly, impressive set of stretches that have him both oddly fascinated but also questioning if the human body was actually supposed to bend like that.

She wasn't as sweaty or tired as he was, though he thinks that's only partially due to her obviously having a better endurance- she'd spent most of the time in the gym acting as Sora-sensei's guinea pig or running laps and doing what Shinsou was surprised to learn were pretty typical stretches for gymnastics and yoga.

(Medama mentioned off-handedly how, before she could inform anyone of her quirk, she'd been incredibly bored as a kid and doing stretches was one of the only things she could do to pass the time. And that now she just hadn't wanted to lose any of her learned flexibility.

She laughs about how many people she used to freak out by being able to bend over backwards and walk around.)

She's currently doing the splits, her upper body slowly being bent far, far forward, until she's parallel to the floor, before she sits back up and twists an uncomfortable looking direction, "There's supposed to be types, right? Rescue. Daylight. Support." She lists.

Shinsou takes a while to answer.

Mostly because his eyes are almost watering from the sight of her spine looking like it's about to pop straight out of her back. "...Underground."

"Oh, what's that entail?" She pulls into a normal sitting position and Shinsou practically sighs in relief. "Also, join me. You really should stretch."

"I… don't think I should. It looks-" He really doesn't want to. "Painful."

Medama scoffs, "Just some simple ones, Shin-sou. I'm not going to throw you into the deep end just like that!"

Alright, alright. Whatever.

He has to wonder how she can do this with such a straight face. Face half pressed to the floor, as he tries to follow her movements and feels his muscles scream in protest and not just because of how tired he was.

Hey, at least he can touch his toes. He's not a complete lost cause.

"So… underground?"

"Aa."

They're at least some of the only few in this section of the gym at least. Apparently the area was for one-on-one instruction for the most part, but Shinsou could still glance around and see a few others. Most were much older, going to town on a punching bag, or doing sit ups and push-ups in a corner while listening to music, the only good thing is that none of them were making loud grunting noises with whatever they were doing- Shinsou was partly convinced that people only did that because they were trying to compensate for something.

"You don't see a lot of daylight heroes with my kind of quirk running around."

He's honestly surprised to see Medama's face turn annoyed. "Stop with the self-pity thing dude. If you want to be a daylight hero, you can. Fuck the rest."

He briefly opens his mouth and then closes it. He's not surprised that nothing came out.

One, because he didn't expect the callout and, yes, he's aware of it.

(Shinsou knows he has problems. With jealousy, with anxiety, with self pity, and all that bullshit.)

And two, because-

Well, he shouldn't be surprised, should he? He doesn't know why but, for some reason, he hadn't thought of Medama as the type to curse. But maybe that's because, when he looks at her, all he can really see is…

Pink .

(Shinsou doesn't follow that line of thought. Knowing exactly how insulting it could be and he wasn't looking to dig his own grave just yet.)

Three, because she said it with such a confidence- arrogance, he might've even said, before he met her- that it's just a little astounding.

"If you just want to go into underground because you think it's your only option-"

Shinsou blurts, " No." To stop her line of thought, can see the building irritation on her face and watches it wash away as he denies it. Even if he hadn't wanted to go into underground… "It's not like that."

It wasn't.

(But he couldn't tell her that the only heroes that cared- and not for something stupid like fame or fortune- were those that went underground, those who didn't plaster their faces and names across every screen, who weren't just trying to make another buck.

Didn't say how daylight heroes would have believed all the villain accusations, had before, and tried to make quick work of him, even as a child.

Couldn't say that the only hero that had ever tried to help him, had reached out to him without fear, was an underground hero with floating hair and red eyes who probably didn't even remember him.

No. He couldn't say his real reasons.

Probably never would.)

"Underground heroes have a lot of freedom that daylight and other heroes don't have," he finds himself saying instead, "They work more independently. And on things that matter. I don't have time to be a poster boy for some agency."

Medama laughs. "I don't know. I think they're on the lookout for eyebags and purple, I hear it's all the rage."

And he snorts. Trying to imagine it. He can't. Not without cringing.

"But I get what you're saying. About the working on things that matter. I guess we're similar in that aspect," Medama admits with a shrug, "I 'spose it's why we're both in 1-C. Gotta keep the practical kids together, you know?"

"You're wearing ten percent of a jacket."

"And my arms have never been warmer."

Shinsou must be really out of it because he can't seem to hold back his laughter. It's quiet, breathy, and plays just under his breath but it's still there.

Medama's head tilts towards them, her mouth opens- ("That's the first time I've ever heard you laugh.") -and doesn't say anything.

Just watches him shake his head as they finish stretching, much less tense than he was before. "Well, you want to be a hero too, don't you? Support, maybe?" He doesn't even think about not asking a question. Hasn't even realized that he hasn't been putting their lessons under a microscopic lens this entire time.

"Nah. Heroism in this day and age- It's not for me." Shinsou tries to not jerk in shock at that. Because she doesn't say it with even an ounce of bitterness, as if she was talking about the weather. "I couldn't even imagine it, if I'm being honest?"

"Then what did you mean before- about the things that matter? Why are you even in 1-C then?"

"Huh? Oh, that." Medama flashes him a tiny smile, one that's a little nervous. "I think it still aligns with the classroom goals, since it's still law enforcement, but I want to be a Criminal Investigator. Maybe even a Private Detective."

Shinsou's mind actually blanks for a good minute.

Because that's-

Unusual .

And not something he ever, in a million years would have guessed. His mind had gone to musician, singer, technical support for heroes- "I want to work with Cold Cases." Medama tacks on, as if that doesn't also have him greatly confused.

"That's… highly specific."

Medama just hums, a tune he's completely unfamiliar with but his head is still hanging on the reveal so he doesn't pay it much mind.

He wants to ask why. He doesn't. Not for lack of anything like genuine curiosity, but because he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and pulls it out to see the Caller ID and all he manages to get out is the smallest of greetings before- "Shinsou Hitoshi! Where the hell are you?! Do you need me to call the police, what's happening?! Why aren't you home yet-?!"

Oh shit.

He forgot to tell his mom that Medama actually had shown up.

...

...

"So…" Medama muses with a wide smile on her face, "it was a good idea, no? Now you have a plan and we can hang out sometimes!"

She also chirps.

"And we can see how our totally-super-fun and not-at-all-assholes classmates are tomorrow!"

Shinsou is not looking forward to it.

But they had a deal. "I make no promises."

"But you'll at least try with me, right?"

He makes a face.

"C'mon, at the very least, we can fail as a team?"

That was one way of looking at it, he supposes.

After assuring his mother that no, he has not been beaten, abducted, or thrown in jail- all more likely than you'd think- and that, no, she did not need to call the police or call his dad while he's still at work-

(Shinsou shudders to think how that would go down. His father never liked to be interrupted without good reason, a firm believer of keeping a work and home environment separate from one another, and could be incredibly intimidating when he was annoyed. Something Shinsou didn't particularly wish on anyone.

Much less accidentally on Medama.)

"It was a good idea, Me-dama."

He's not really used to calling her by her given name yet but he's starting to see why she prefers it. The brightening look in her eyes is almost too literal. It suits her and he can't much imagine calling her anything else.

"...Thanks."

He really doesn't need to thank her, and the bow he gives is definitely overkill but he does so anyways and Medama's a little captivated by the awkwardness in his limbs. The way he has no clue how to act, seemingly at a complete loss for how to handle the situation she knows she's created.

"It's really no problem."

It really isn't.

She just wished- delighted laughter nearly escapes her at his wondered expression that looks back on the gym, because it's only a building and it's only equipment to her, and she has more money than a kid should ever have at her age- that he'd be a little less anxious about the whole thing. Especially about the friends thing because she was honestly excited about the prospects and-

"Even if it doesn't work out, I think I'll be okay failing together with you." He offers her a grin, one that shows too many teeth, is a little too wide, but it's real and... and...

She thinks that she should respond. And yet, for some reason, she can't. She doesn't know what to say to that. If there is even an appropriate response. It's not all that different to what she'd said before- but that didn't have her lips parting or her eyes blinking or a soft something washing over her.

"Ready?"

"Y-Yeah. I am. Let's go."

And, is it just her, or does her voice feel oddly small?

Medama sits on the back of his bike, sitting in the place where a book bag would normally be sat and gives a nod. An offered ride back home is the least he can do in his mind and Medama isn't about to turn down a gentleman thankyouverymuch.

Shinsou takes a deep breath, trying to relax, and then- they're off-

A note is hit on a piano .

The sky is still slightly warm from the setting sun and Medama brushes hair from her face.

Soft and sweet and almost delicate.

Shinsou turns a corner on the sidewalk and it's not long before they're crossing a small bridge and using the hills to pick up speed. They have to hop off a couple times and walk up a couple hills but are soon pushing the bike to catch momentum and hopping back on, nearly stumbling over their own feet but just barely hanging on.

The piano plays as a soft voice begins to sing, it sounds unusually delicate and deeply joyful: "If I could ride a bike…

I'd zoom around the world-

Medama waves Shinsou goodbye at the bottom of her building, a smile spread across her face as he returns it with a tired one of his own.

-with you sitting there behind me ~

She collapses into her bed, wondering why the grin stays so silly in place, and feels the urge to press her face into a pillow.

I'll take you to places

Her keyboard is in the corner of her room and her eyes find it with a sudden song on the tip of her tongue.

past several faces

When Shinsou gets home, he takes an immediate shower and cleans up for the night, apologizing for worrying his mother and thoughts on the future and the way the day had ended. Turning out better than he could have ever imagined.

Just living life so carefree

He'll eventually find himself laying in bed, tired out of his mind but still somehow awake, and will pull out his phone and discover an impromptu stream notification for Halo.

If I could sail a boat

The song will play, a light piano that seems to soothe his soul and a voice that sounds so deceptively familiar and trustworthy and lovely will sing him to sleep. The final nudge into a sweet oblivion.

I'd cruise across the sea

And Shinsou will dream of bike rides and sunsets and pink.

A sweet adventure for us two~

I'll be Jack, and you, Rose

Just please don't let me go

'Cause I'd be nothing without you

Oh, when you call me

I'm drifting on clouds

Like I'm dreaming

But in the morning

I'll wake up and see that you're stuck

Here with me

If only you knew

What I would do for you

I'd jump up and hold you

So tightly

But I will never be

Able to do these things

So I'm just left i~magining

The stream ends with a click.

.

.

.

ehehe we're finally getting into some sweetness

and yes, Medama has a lil' crush on Shinsou. Just a little one tho! Song is: If I could ride a bike - by Chevy