Friday Morning.
Mineta got out of bed on the wrong side, with blurry eyes. He felt strangely melancholic, like this whole situation wouldn't happen again. Unlike the previous day, the dwarf boy was terrified. Fury still prevailed in his heart to make matters worse. His existential discomfort, already deep-rooted from a young age, was reaching its highest peak. Guilt kept an eye out for him, barely cloaked between anger and fear, standing at the ready to darken his close future.
I'm so screwed…
The bad-behaved boy wouldn't be welcome in class anymore. Why even bother? He pulled a ball from his head and tossed it at his bedroom door. This symbolic gate to an outside, hostile world which had already shut it in Mineta's face.
"What's that Quirk use for, anyway? A sticky grape like me doesn't stand a chance against hero killers like Stain or the League of Villains. My 1'08 meter in height and feeble body can't hold a candle to…well, anyone. How could I once pretend otherwise? "The rest of the world, I guess.", my ass! It's ridiculous."
The only time he had actually won was against Midnight. All thanks to Sero tossing him up in the air, lending Mineta a piece of his tape to gag himself, being captured in place of him, and enjoying a nap on the sadistic teacher's laps while his partner cried behind a rock. It wasn't a victory, just an indecent amount of favorable circumstances and luck. At least in his opinion.
Mineta took a look at himself in his broken mirror. His distorted traits, further defaced by the smashed glass, threw his own most hideous grimaces right back in his face. So many times his mind had trailed off to unashamed thoughts of perversion. Only this time, he was the target of such grimace and could see himself from the eyes of a female victim.
"Am I more hideous that way, with a twisted reflection? I look like the Joker with growth issues, but without the charm that makes the villain more popular than the hero…"
He definitely was nowhere near anyone's level.
Not like Ashido; this very social and highly cheerful, athletic girl with a slender waist and a promising Quirk that effortlessly caught the eyes. Nothing like Asui; a levelheaded but considerate ally one could easily count on, as she was able of coping with anyone's weakness, always fell back on her feet, never got undermined and inspired trust and friendship with nothing but an enchanting voice. Nothing like Yaoyorozu, the most brilliant student with ridiculously-powerful powers that definitely eclipsed the size of her behind in terms of prestige. Nothing like Midoriya, a noble-hearted, pure, altruistic and innocent soul devoid of any perversion or bad intentions. Nothing like Iida, the incarnation of honor, uprightness, rectitude and duty.
Nothing like…
"Shut up, Mineta!" he shook his head. "I already know you're the worst, like Momo said. Just suck it up, go to class and shut your trap. Please."
Heroics Course, 10:00 a.m.
He's pouting like a little kid would who just got scolded. No wonder why he's so small! Ashido spoke to herself. The shame of such a bad thought washed the wrinkles of irritation off her face. What are you thinking, Mina? I shouldn't be saying that.
He's been through a lot. Maybe I should…talk to him. Asui contemplated. No. It's still too early.
Dang it! How I hate to wait! Midoriya regretted. Seeing you like this…I can't stand it.
If Asui was a boy and Darth Vader had turned her to the dark side, this what she would look like right now! Kaminari thought, as he observed his estranged friend. A faceless, creepy being.
Mineta's eyes were vacant, indifferent and resigned to feel at home when empty deep inside. His entrance into class had been marked by rejection, but not on his side. To all who dared question him on his sordid state of stillness – they still cared, apparently - he had politely asked to go take a hike by not answering at all. Zero contact. Reject of the rejecting. An eye for an eye.
Even the apathetic-looking teacher couldn't stand the vision of the Noble Price in No-Shit-Given winner. That boy had been through hell and back. I've seen villains with friendlier faces!
Mineta had no idea many of his classmates had sent each other messages overnight, each with their own level of concern and slants on the subject of how badly the Grape Case could get. The Class Rep had been asked many things, among them one central question: should immediate action be taken? In the "emergency" sense of the word.
To these insistent requests, Iida had roughly, but hesitantly answered the same automatic-like instruction: keep a close eye, try to create contact and build up news relations, but not in the forceful way. The painful memories of his own rushed attempt to shove apologies into the girls' hearts, irrespective of their willingness to accept them, was proof enough that forcing one's way through wasn't a good idea.
Mineta clearly was more than disinclined to open up, having yet to answer the first messages sent to his phone regarding his well-being – some being the first-ever from students whose numbers were still unknown. For the time being, the boy was to be monitored from a distance; any brusque approach would be saved for the possible, but hopefully unlikely case of extreme danger – like Mineta making an attempt on his life.
Realistically though, they would have to take the long way to reach him.
For as they were pondering various approaches, the boy was straying further from his peers. A sinister aura emanated from him, the kind to remind of a junkie surviving through a spell in rehab but unable to get off drugs. It was just as repellent as before, when a lewd idea turned his black eyes venous and made a drool fountain out of his mouth. But the reason behind it was different. His face was incomparably tortured, like he just escaped from the confinement cell of a concentration camp. No one could stare at his demonic pupils.
The only "positive" thing about it, so to speak, was the disappearance of his nightmarish visions whenever he looked at a girl. They were gone. Now, he was living the nightmare in real life. Guilt, scorn, fear, judgment were entering the stage for a grande finale. The classroom felt like a court, where his former partners in heroics were suing him. First trial for all his crimes.
Aizawa didn't have a way with him.
The teacher more than enjoyed people with frank and straightforward things to express, as it saved more sleeping time for him. But Mineta's "noisy" gloominess – as brash as Bakugo's candor - was now downright scaring him. He gave up trying to establish contact before thinking about it. He even renounced scolding other students who had switched off after getting distracted by Mineta's horror-movie stance.
I will talk to you again soon, Mini-Problem Child
Lunch Break.
Mineta was first to ask for permission to go to the toilets, two pairs of hands pressing on his groin. He left before the teacher could decide to let him go or not. Aizawa was within a hair's breadth of catching him again with his capturing weapon, to make sure Mineta didn't miss an instruction or two. Like Sero or Asui had so many times before, for various motives.
Isolating the boy for a little chit-chat would have required great imagination – and efforts - to divert the others' curiosity away. Thankfully, Class 1-A scattered itself pretty smoothly with other goals in mind, fresh air and food being some. But Aizawa dropped it. He will never forgive me if I force him to stay and wet himself like last time. I'll give him a roasting later, when he recovers from the previous one…
And he took his leave as well. Only a few lingered around.
"Did you guys see how fast Mineta ran out of the classroom?" Ashido said with amazement in her voice. "It's like he was trying to win a race against our revered Class Rep. Even he can be serious when he's got a good reason to train hard."
"That's quite ambitious. Iida's the fastest runner in here!" Sero's playful voice affirmed.
The compliment had Iida's face get sweaty in an instant, more embarrassed than honored to be treated to such esteem. On this exceptionally-rare occasion, his thin eyebrows pointed upward.
"We all know who's the best at breaking speed limits…right, Midoriya?" he timidly admitted.
Iida still remembered his narrow defeat against the One for All heir at the swimming pool. It didn't mean a lot when in battle though. Bakugo hated these demonstrations of deceiving, phony praises to better rub someone up the right way, although Iida wasn't being hypocritical at all.
But the competitive boy's memory had a different story to tell.
"What did you say?" he angrily threatened. "Who's the fastest, huh? You spelled my name wrong. Say it again or I crush you!"
The Grenade Boy with loosely-worn pants triggered tiny explosions in his palm to intimidate both Iida and Sero. Midoriya got in the way to defuse the situation.
"Wait, I'm not the best at it! I still have to reach your level, Kaccha–"
"Shut up, damn Deku! You're being hypocritical again. Each time you show that false modesty of yours, you still manage to win! You stupid nerd, I fucking swear one day…"
"Kacchan…I…"
Both of them knew their clandestine One for All link was not to be shared. Especially not by being overly swollen with vanity. Yet another quality Bakugo lacked.
The prideful boy without a tie eventually backed down and sat on his chair. The others left for lunch, including a regretful Midoriya. Bakugo didn't follow them. He wasn't hungry anyway. As he brooded over, something of purple color troubled his mind.
Mineta had been acting weird for days, like a mental self-conditioning was breaking down. An excellent judge of character, Bakugo had been among the firsts to notice the changes. He was extremely perceptive, showing an undisclosed but deep-rooted interest – if not pleasure - in observing others like Midoriya did in his own way. The explosive hero could do without any mumbling, unlike his childhood rival, to process information in his mind. As with that fateful moment when Midoriya had gained his first Quirk, growing a big pair in the process, Mineta was about to give in and reveal his true nature.
In a spectacular way. What fucking game was that ball-head imp playing? He never caught my attention before. He's up to something.
The dwarf boy had fled the classroom – using a long-overdue bladder draining as a pretext – to hide his little game and take his mind off pressure in peace. Much to Bakugo's disdain, initially. Fleeing was good for cowards, just like apologizing for a mistake was worse than accepting it. But the Grenade Boy didn't have Alzheimer and his memory of past flaws was crystal-clear. Cloaking himself in pride, in order to avoid facing his own insecurities and admitting to having regrets regarding his own behavior, was Bakugo's biggest issue. And so was it the case for Mineta.
They were the same, so to say. Mineta would soon reveal himself – his true self – and expose whatever content his heart had to relieve itself of. Bakugo would see it from an outside eye and, why not, draw inspiration from it and learn how to express his long-repressed regrets in turn. Bakugo did want to apologize to whom it concerned, but had yet to do it with balls of the same size as Mineta's. Ironically, the dwarf had the biggest ones when he dared make amends in the boldest, most earnest way.
The grape boy was a pervert, but also a formidable teacher in humbleness. Bakugo knew he could learn a thing or two from observing him. What's gonna be your next move, Small Fry?
Mineta panted as he saw himself in yet another mirror. Alone in the bathroom, the convulsions in his eyes made it even harder to stand his reviled reflection.
"I disown you, ugly face!" he spat scornfully, his raised middle finger joining the brutal exchange. "That's what you are. A child of failure."
After thoroughly splashing and rinsing his face with water – same treatment for the mirror covered in sputters - one hand plunged into his pocket and grabbed his phone. That's what she would think…
His mother had mysteriously called him during class, without leaving a message. Now that he was in a safe, soundproof place to acknowledge receipt of whatever terms of abuse she had saved for him, he called back. In a few seconds, he was out of breath.
"Who's that? What do you want?"
But not for so long.
"It's me, mom."
She gasped violently, holding the teen on the other side of the line in great contempt.
"The fuck do you want? Pocket money like last time? Never ask me again."
"You called me. Like, five minutes ago?"
She didn't like his withering tone, insensitively blind to the heart-wrenching sadness showing through each of Mineta's words.
"Wrong number. Why would I call you? I've got nothing to tell you and you're old enough to figure out your own shit." she berated him in a derogatory tone.
She sounded sincere. It actually was a mistake. Mineta knew her evil words by heart, but he'd never get used to the impact they had on his bleeding heart. Hence the use of irony in her son's answer to cope with it and seal the wound.
"Who knows! I thought you wanted to be nice to me, for a change…"
"Don't you start being insolent, you ungrateful piece of crap! How dare you talk to your mother like that?"
Anger turned into vile hatred. Mineta's thin eyebrows noticeably fell down inward, until his oval-shaped eyes were cut into a triangle.
"My mother died the day she started treating me the way you do now. And I don't really care about being insolent with a ghost of her. How about that?"
"Oh, you son of a…"
"…bitch? Yes, you are. A bitch. Unless that fancy language of yours was aimed at dad?"
She screamed so loudly that Mineta had to move the phone away from his ear.
"Never mention his name again! You don't have a say about him! All that happened that day was because of y–"
"Dad is not a name, mom. And yes, I do have a say. Because, you know…he's my dad. Remember? The one who did that "thing" to you while in bed, thanks to which I burst out of your womb nine months later. It must have been painful, sorry about that. I guess it could explain why you, a die-hard fan of Ridley Scott movies, have always considered me an alien. What an honor."
"Stop it!"
He didn't.
"You want me to stop bothering my bitch of a mother? Never call me again. Like ever, ever again. If you hate me that much, just take my name off your contact list and, well…forget about me. Would you?"
"Shouldn't be a problem…"
The tone of her tired voice was getting hoarse, further worsened by a high level of dehydration. A sound of uncapped beer bottle was heard. Mineta became enraged.
"Of course, it won't be a problem for an alcoholic fuck like you! How many shots are you at? Nine? Ten? You're already pouring an eleventh one up, huh? I can smell your nausea from here; thank goodness I'm standing next to crappers in case I need to puke. If you take another one down in one go, you might succeed and erase me from your memory. Or what's left of it. Just make an effort and do your best, goddamn it!"
The estranged son was expecting the most repugnant of all slurs. It came on demand.
"Be damned, you failure of a child!"
"I love you too."
She hung back, leaving behind a hangover-level blackhole on the dead phone tonality, for her disowned son's sorrow to reverberate ad infinitum. Another woman gone for good, forever mad at Mineta's "antics". Hearing her voice cutting itself off for the last time, was equality terrifying as an electro-encephalogram switching from beep to continuous signal as it flatlined.
It sounded like it had been harvested by a ripper, never to boom out across his eardrums again. What an abyssal void. Failure of a child. A child of failure. That's what I said. The order doesn't matter.
His mother's last words echoed similar speeches Mineta had borne from school classmates and female teachers. No, he definitely wasn't popular with ladies. For legitimate reasons, at least had he deserved his painful treatments from girls in High School. Could the same be said regarding what he had endured at home?
No, but it didn't change a thing about his own wrongdoing.
Mineta had committed harmful crimes. Women, no matter who or how imperfect they were themselves, could not be blamed for it. When someone was the victim of an assault, the assailant was wrong. The girl being pretty, scantily clad or in a provocative posture – whichever fact – was no good reason. Assault was assault, period.
Mineta was the assailant. Not his victims.
"That's why they can't forgive me. I'm still a potential abuser for them, and I fully understand what it means. Well…if they can't hear my apologies, they'll see them. I swear they will. Call it overconfidence, but I know exactly how to achieve that. Gonna be easy."
(12:15 a.m.) Jiro: "Have you seen that face? Mineta looked…different. Scarily different!"
(12:15 a.m.) Ashido: "He's retraining as a horror film actor lmao. Not a bad career change if you ask; he looked more convincing than Yours Truly when I applied for the Alien Queen job."
(12:15 a.m.) Hagakure: "Ashido xD!"
(12:15 a.m.) Yaoyorozu: "Well-said :"
(12:16 a.m.) Hagakure: "Do you think it's his way to avenge himself for what we said to him? By making us feel kind of bad or guilty just by looking at him?"
(12:16 a.m.) Uraraka: "It'd mean that he hasn't changed at all and does not have a clue what he did wrong… :("
(12:17 a.m.) Hagaruke: "I feared that might end up that way. That storyteller plays it close to his chest when it comes to speaking his mind, but loses it whenever his mistakes catch up."
(12:17 a.m.) Jiro: "He seems to be gone on a long and painful guilt trip. Poor him…"
(12:17 a.m.) Yaoyorozu: "Let's wait a little longer. We'll soon find out, but he'll definitely be sorry if it was not sincere."
(12:17 a.m.) Ashido: "No mercy for liars lol."
(12:17 a.m.) Uraraka: "Academy Award for Best Fake Story of Redemption – Mineta Minoru."
(12:17 a.m.) Uraraka: "Or maybe Worst, I should say."
(12:18 a.m.) Hagakure: "He's got as much imagination as he's got nerve. We should support him in exploring his artistic side. Who knows, he could become a successful mangaka."
(12:17 a.m.) Uraraka: "My Zero Academia – a story about Mineta Minoru. Coming out soon!"
(12:18 a.m.) Hagakure: "Coming out?! don't say that! xD Makes me wish he was gay :p"
(12:18 a.m.) Jiro: "OMG why?!"
(12:18 a.m.) Hagakure: "Because he'd leave us alone!"
(12:18 a.m.) Yaoyorozu: "[-X shame on you^^"
(12:18 a.m.) Ashido: "WTF you girls are killing me! :D."
While the five chatty gossipers were having fun, the sixth girl was not in the mood for that. As a matter of fact, she was downright angry and displayed it via a text-messaging strike. How could her friends still make a laughingstock out of a lonely, undefendable boy with no one but silence as a lawyer to represent him? The time to poke fun at him, as retaliation for whatever crime, was over and done with, forever banished in an obscure, closed past. There was strictly nothing to be cheerful about.
As she processed this, Asui came to realize that frustration was slowly breaking her shield of placidity. Was it such a stressful situation – for whatever reason – that it rendered her emotionally-fragile and helpless? But about what?
The Frog hero had always been a straightforward person, for whom losing time hiding her thoughts seemed like a sin. The same could not be said of her feelings. She valued concealing what was on her heart as a way to protect herself, retain her self-control and focus on what truly mattered. But in this first-case scenario, feelings were what mattered.
Asui could not understand what was on Mineta's mind. Nor could she understand why she paid so much attention to him. She and the grape boy had reversed their respective roles. Mineta was withdrawing into himself, swallowing and locking everything up deep inside. Conversely, Asui was coming unbalanced and losing control of her emotions, over a subject that made no sense to her.
Opposites attract, she thought. But they never know why. Just ask Midoriya and Bakugo…
(12:22 a.m.) Jiro: "Asui-chan? Where are you? We don't hear so much from you. Is something wrong?"
(12:22 a.m.) Yaoyorozu: "Asui? Are you here?"
Did Mineta need help, or just another tongue strike? Two possibilities faced.
Either he was the extra-short size equivalent of her quick-tempered, Grenade classmate. A boiling monster of hatred, with so much poison deep inside his guts that catching his snake eyes felt like a gob of venom spit in the face. Or, he actually was so tortured in his mind that his ambiguous, morbid-but-pitiful behavior that day had the double mission of terrifying people to keep them out of harm's way, and asking for help at the same time.
Maybe both. I must have a serious conversation with him, and figure things out once and for all. As a hero, a classmate and a friend of Minoru-chan. I won't have peace until then.
All Asui knew, for sure, was that she felt the rival desires to slap him in the face and comfort him afterward. The other way around would work as well. A part of her really wished the boy would stay humble and ask for human contact, instead of shutting himself off. That way, she would rise to the call of duty at the forefront and serve as first-wave emotional support. Like she had done so many times with her siblings, whenever they needed love – from as early as when her missing parents put her in charge. A task she never shied away from.
But Mineta was no relative of hers. Or, was he?
(12:25 a.m.) Hagakure: "She must not be in the mood for talk. :/ Let's just leave her alone."
(12:25 a.m.) Yaoyorozu: "She's not the kind to make fun of someone anyway…"
(12:25 a.m.) Hagakure: "I know. We shouldn't be saying that neither. Jiro was right; Mineta really looked remorseful this morning. Let's root for him from now on, ok?"
(12:25 a.m.) Jiro: "I'm looking forward to him making a comeback as a redeemed person. That's what Asui would want."
(12:26 a.m.) Ashido: "guess you're right…sry Froppy :'("
(12:26 a.m.) Uraraka: "Don't you worry, Tsu-chan. If you're reading, we're with you."
Tears welled up in Asui's eyes, but she'd never reply. Instead, she disconnected.
"Come in." Aizawa-sensei said to Class 1-A's Class Rep and All Might number one fan. "And don't break the door while closing it, Midoriya. It costs more money than your arms."
"Y-yes sir!"
The boys entered the ill-tempered teacher's private office. One green-haired student delicately turned the door handle to close it, like it was made of paper. The two then stood in front of Eraserhead, whose humor was as dark as his outfit, as he sat to his desk and threw them a typical jaded look. Thinking that it would be a quick talk - finished within a matter of seconds – the teacher did not offer them to rest their behinds.
"What's the matter?"
"It's about Mineta-kun, sir." Iida spoke first. "We had to tell you about him."
Aizawa wouldn't go back to sleep any time soon.
"I see. Take a seat."
So they did, at last. A fly crossed the room in two dreadful seconds. His stern, impatient eyes were asking for more explanations. Message received.
"Well…" the Class Rep started, "we've had an argument with him. And…and…"
Iida stumbled over his own words, finding the task of reporting the news of Mineta's struggles with the rest of his class far more complicated than expected.
One wrongly-interpreted sentence was enough to push the severe teacher's short patience beyond its limits. Aizawa was infamous for his intransigent rules regarding hero education – Class 1-A still hadn't lost any member as of this day, much against all odds. It was noteworthy Aizawa's high level of student expulsions was mostly on paper – he re-enrolled them after they were "reborn from their first death" – but Mineta probably wouldn't be that lucky, should he cross the red line.
It was the boys' responsibility to ensure no other impromptu misunderstanding ruined their attempts to plead for the grape terror's cause. A difficult task.
"You should have practiced your speech before coming before me, Iida-kun. You know how much I hate to lose my time, do you?"
"Sorry sir! Yes sir!"
"Cut the gobbledygook and get to the point."
Iida struggled again. He was used to handling pressure or stressful situation. But one couldn't be at Asui's level of self-control just because he wanted to. His own guilt over how disastrous his last confrontation with Mineta had been – few were the people who realized Iida felt awful about it – was still riddling him.
"Sir!" Midoriya took over. "Do you remember what you once told me, about doing things properly and by the rules?"
How could Aizawa forget his favorite Problem Child's emotional reaction, as he entrusted him with the permission to be a true hero before Eri's rescue operation, pushing Midoriya on the brink of tears when Aizawa's supporting fist came bumping against his heart? Cheering Midoriya up and restoring his self-confidence had been one of these decisions Aizawa was the proudest of.
A pride he had some "slight" trouble showing.
"And?"
"You could have refused to trust me and send me back to the dorms. You could have expelled me after I fought Kacchan without permission, if not half of the class for not stopping us from saving him. But you didn't."
"I couldn't have said better!" Iida regained the confidence to talk. "We all know how demanding you are, sir. You don't tolerate failure, or…"
As the Class Rep confessed his fear of his own teacher, saying out loud what most were thinking, Aizawa encountered more difficulties hiding his unease than he was used to. It is really how bad they see me? Am I so hard on them? I should stop dressing like a scarecrow…who knows what kind of monster students like Mineta think I am!"
In the meantime, Midoriya became aware that getting mixed up would not lead him in the right direction. He took it upon himself to summarize his thoughts, despite his urgent need to dwell on the mumbling habits.
"What we're trying to say, is that you've seen the potential in me. Despite my flaws and mistakes, you gave me a chance to prove my worth in that school."
When they first met, Aizawa had been put off by Midoriya's dubious Quirk and aims in hero life. He had since gained faith in him above the zero line, but his troublemaker of a student wasn't the kind to ask for praise based on past relations. What was on his mind?
"But if you granted me that, others deserve it as well." Midoriya added.
"Especially some…other "problem children"." Iida completed.
Interesting, but not enough.
"I said get to the point already."
It wasn't supposed to turn out that way, but Iida was cornered and time flew too fast.
"Please don't expel him!" he begged. "I know Mineta doesn't quite have the behavior of a hero, but he deserves a second chance."
Aizawa instantly understood. It was about bloody time.
"Wasn't he given one already? Like many, many times?" Aizawa summarily replied. "As I listen to you, it sounds like you barely have anything good to say about your classmate. What's the point of defending him?"
It was sadly true. Apart from him being a whiny fighter and an unashamed pervert, they knew nothing worth coming out of the shadow about him. The price to pay for hasty verdicts, and never properly inquiring about whatever the grape hero had been through in his own life.
"I'm worried, Sensei!" Iida explained. "I think he's been terribly misjudged from the moment he came to our class, because nobody took the time to get to know him more personally. Not even us, and I assume full responsibility for my lack of insight. But the fact is, I still believe there are things about him we have yet to discover. Positive things, without any doubt."
"Iida-kun, we better tell him the whole story about that…night."
Aizawa sighed in a whisper. Finally, somebody understands what kind of answer I expect from my students. Took two brains for that. Was about time, Midoriya!
In a few minutes, Aizawa was informed of the terrible events involving the grape boy vs nineteen people. As always, Aizawa's reaction – rigid stance, cold eyes – came out as antipathetic.
"That's still a lot too much for someone who wants to become a hero. That boy can't behave himself, not even when a whole school is looking at him. It's hard for me, even as a teacher, to believe there is still something to save about him. Had it been me that night, he'd be out this building and back to his mom's as we speak."
His ambiguous eyes weren't so devoid of hope. After all, there was a reason why the former girl harasser was still wearing out the seat of his pants at U.A. High School – Aizawa was no stranger to that. Mineta wasn't beyond help, but those who'd come forward to assist him in his quest for redemption had to be chosen wisely. Aizawa was probably testing his students once again, tickling both Iida's trust in redeeming people and Midoriya's obsession with meddling in others' lives.
Whatever being a hero meant to them, they had to stand for it.
"That would have been a mistake!" Midoriya cried out, equally as flinty as his teacher.
"Midoriya-kun!" Iida frighteningly chopped out the air with his panicked hand, worried Aizawa might take offense at his friend's bold words. "What are you doing?"
"I'm saying what has to be said…that we messed up!"
He looked as determined as when faced with a life-changing decision to make. Both his interlocutors squinted and stared into his eyes, likewise impatient to hear more from him.
"What do you mean?"
"That we shouldn't have reacted that way. What happened on that Wednesday night showed us that we all lacked communication skills. Mineta-kun wasn't like his usual self; he was asking for forgiveness – quite awkwardly – and he failed to convince. But it wasn't entirely his fault. How are we supposed to avoid conflict with villains – establishing dialogue is also part of the job – if we can't help antagonizing and making an enemy out of an ally, of a classmate, of…a friend?"
He backslid to his obsessive mumbling, as calling Mineta an "enemy" and comparing him to a villain was rubbing in guilt.
"Midoriya, calm down!" Iida shook him by the shoulders, then turning to Aizawa. "He is right. Because of Mineta's past habits of deceiving people, the class hasn't been receptive to his apologies. No one believed him, and since Mineta obviously has big issues controlling his emotions and trusting himself, it backfired at him."
"You're blaming yourself for this foul-up like it's the end of the world. Does it mean I should have expelled all of your instead?" Aizawa speculated, deadpan as always.
"No! It means we shouldn't get carried away or act too impulsively. We need more time."
The teachers' tired eyelashes rolled down, shrinking the narrow space of his half-closed eyes.
"All I'm getting now is more confused. What exactly do you expect from me?"
"That you show some understanding and keep your distance. Mineta took the first step forward, but too many people didn't see it and some might want to complain to you for things he doesn't do anymore. We have to put a curb on our criticism of him. He needs to feel accepted."
Moderating one's view of someone, not judging too hastily, being patient and watching the said "someone" evolving. Aizawa had done it already. Notably with both Midoriya and Bakugo, whom he later complimented for their willingness to change. Gradually but surely.
Doing the same for the third time wouldn't be so hard. Aizawa nodded.
"If that's what you want, let's give it a try. I'll do my best not to expel him by accident."
Midoriya – normally a naïve boy who took most things at face value – astonishingly got the joke and giggled, hope filling his eyes. The Class Rep, however, looked perturbed. He was so shaky Aizawa almost suspected fever to be the cause, but he took the precaution to ask before sending him away to receive a kiss from Recovery Girl.
"Is something up, Iida?"
"I feel guilty. That night, things didn't go the way I wanted them to go. My intentions were good, but I had little to no control over this situation. I couldn't help Mineta getting unfairly lynched, and I participated in it. I shouldn't have gotten so upset!"
"This is part of your training course, Iida. You've already experienced enough simulation and "real-life" drills to learn that things can turn nasty in stressful situations. One can't just control everything. As you fight your way through obstacles, you must find out how to improvise when the initial plan falls through, and get back up when you fall. There's no better way to becoming a hero."
Telling a Class Rep that plans never fully unfolded as intended, was comparably depressing to explaining Bakugo he would always lag at number two position behind Midoriya's One for All.
"But Mineta-kun isn't an obstacle! Nor is he a villain. It is a mistake to treat him that way."
"No, it's not. Opening someone's eyes and dragging him back on the good side is the best thing a hero can do. If you deem Mineta worthy of your friendship, you WILL save him just like you would save a villain from himself. Your classmate, in this specific case, IS an obstacle. Just admit it, as there is no shame in being someone else's obstacle for whatever reason – it happens to everyone at some point in a lifetime."
"Bu–"
"And Mineta's behavior is – or formerly was – villainous. But it doesn't mean he IS a villain. We all have problems with ourselves that could use a good fixing, heroes too. The sooner your fix them, the better. Mineta has plenty of defects and demons to be tamed inside. Whenever you become aware of it and decide to rectify it, you've already won. Mineta, if I believe what you just said, has become aware of his flaws. So he has won, there is no need to worry. Wednesday was just a battle with heavy casualties on his side. But the day he ends the war in victory, a great hero will be born from the ashes of what he used to be. And you, Iida-kun, Midoriya-kun, are going to play your part in battle at the frontline. You want to help him? Do it. Don't ask me for permission. Do it. The good way. Your way."
They were moved to tears.
"Aizawa-sensei!"
Reciprocally, the teacher was impressed by their devotion.
Back at the Provisional Hero License Exam, during his conversation with Ms. Joke, he had mentioned two of his students as having a big effect on his class and raising the standards for success. They didn't need an introduction; their feats and accomplishments had earned them unconditional support from Aizawa. But the unshakable Eraserhead had suffered a rare memory lapse and forgotten about a third, Iida, this straight and faithful student whose assistance in maintaining order and discipline Aizawa had greatly appreciated during the Forest Camp.
A single example among hundreds.
"Aizawa-sensei…" Iida murmured while lifting his head up. "I promise you I won't fail this time. If I can't put Mineta back on the straight and narrow, I will be faced with no other choice than resigning my position as a Representative. Either he comes back in or I see myself out."
Roles were swapped and Midoriya writhed in indignation. Had he tried to chop his hand onto his outgoing mate's skull, he'd have Delaware-smashed it to pieces.
"What? No way, Iida-kun!" he yelled almost threateningly. "You can't be serious!"
"I am." Iida stated matter-of-factly, although hiding his anguish was impossible. "Almost causing you and Todoroki-kun's death was my last warning. Once, my motivations to be a hero were bad and it could have led to my own demise. I just can't let our classmate go down the same path. There won't be another chance for me to prove that I can do better, or it'll mean that I haven't learned anything from my mistakes."
"You've learned enough, Iida-kun! What you are now has nothing to do with the Iida from the past. You woke up to the fact that your decisions that day were wrong, you did what was necessary to correct your values and we forgave you already. Why can't you forgive yourself?"
"Because apparently, I can't even forgive someone else for some petty mischief that was NOT any worse than what I did." Iida insisted. "It's a question of justice. Why would I be permissive with myself, after I showed so much firmness and put my foot down on Mineta? It's not fair. After Stain hurt and crippled my dear brother, I was mad and craving for revenge. Driven by this urge, I acted selfishly and put the lives of people I cared about in danger. And now here I go again, acting too much on instinct but without proper reasoning, as I blame someone for not being yet able to control his own urges. As a Class Rep, this is not a way to care. I don't want to let anybody else down! Not again…"
He had barely enough strengths to hold back his tears. For Midoriya, it was another story. Todoroki wasn't there to offer the Class Rep sobas to cheer him up, and argue that heroes actually could tear up – like he had with Midoriya. But his words still rang out and the green-haired boy shared Iida's sadness in the purest way.
"Iida-san…" he sobbed. "I'm sorry."
Aizawa turned his back on them to hide his wide-eyed reaction. Seeing his two zealots of students so passionately devoted pushed him more dangerously-close to expressing emotion than Ms. Joke's Quirk. And he couldn't use his own to prevent it. He decided time had come to dismiss them before they embarrassingly hug in his office.
"In the meantime…" he interrupted their dawning sorrow, "I'll keep a close eye on your little friend and wait. Just like you asked."
He looked at his watch. Eating time was almost over.
"Now, off to class you go."
Both their empty stomachs gurgled; skipping lunch for a grape was a ruinous price to pay. Wholeheartedly, they still thanked him long enough to bow down twice, then took their leave.
"We won't fail you."
Now that he was alone, the teacher finally took a breather. He scratched his head uncomfortably, sweat popping up on his forehead. If they really believe I'm so unforgivable, I can't even imagine what young Mineta must be thinking now.
His mind brought back memories of past interactions with the purple sheep, once nicknamed "The Embodiment of Lust". Aware of his devious personality – and solicitous of others taking appropriate measures in this regard - Aizawa had never had an opportunity to talk about the pervy boy in a positive light.
It had not blocked him from supporting the grape-haired boy, occasionally. But most of the time, their relations could be summed up to a cat and mouse game. Aizawa – aka the Cat - summoning an aura of intimation to keep Mineta – aka the Mouse – on the right side of human decency, breaking his will to peep on girls, and correcting him the hard, physical way when the red light illuminated.
Not so much a healthy relationship as should be. What if I dyed my eyes purple to make myself look more sympathetic, next time I use my Quirk on him? he thought. Cut the crap, you idiot. Better work on your style and try not to wrap him up in a web like you did last time. I won't earn his heart back as a spider.
Afternoon class.
Mineta was back to business, sort of.
Pretending to be listening to the teacher and taking notes, the boy spent hours composing what looked like letters.
Aizawa being in charge of afternoon courses, all his students were taking due precautions not to get distracted and focus as fully as they could. Aizawa was a severe person, who hated repeating things and looked down on unruliness or dissipated minds. From the desk behind the grape hero, Yaoyorozu didn't pay so much attention to what was Mineta rushing through on his sheets. Entirely absorbed, he scribbled notes, drafted and redrafted sentences, polished paragraphs, made fair and final copies like he was in the middle of drawing up a thesis document.
Yaoyorozu barely missed her own name and several of her friends', as the boy was writing them down.
04:00 p.m., end of class.
Free time for all, almost no homework. Nevertheless, unlike previous days, 95% of Class 1-A students secretly regrouped and remained within the classroom facility. A serious purple-colored subject – the 5% left - had to be debated. Half of them, moderately embittered, were still reluctant to reconcile. The other half wished to speed things up in the opposite direction. But regardless of the chosen side, the whole class agreed on one point.
"He's definitely not fine!" Midoriya alerted. "We have to talk to him right now."
Asui silently agreed. Not hearing her say a word warned the crowd of friendly classmates – she really was appreciated and ranking high in popularity – that she was not fine either. Where some unobserving people saw nonsense as they barely scratched the surface of her mind, most understood her implicit empathy toward the grape boy. Coming from her, a girl once a victim of the terror boy's antics, it sounded like a red alert.
"What about what Iida said, Mineta having to stay in the shadow and all this stuff?" Sero reminded. "Not that I particularly approve, now that I think about it…"
Iida had already reconsidered his position in this regard, but Sero's question pointed out Class 1-A's biggest problem: they still behaved like Mineta was a kind of leprous zombie whom they would rather avoid. In a largely unconscious way, the purple sheep was barely persona non grata no more. Consciously though, they knew things had to change.
Not even Fumikage looked satisfied with the association of his grape-haired classmate with "shadow", his main source of inspiration in life. The birdy, crow-looking hero was already blaming himself for his lack of open-mindedness, as he recalled leaving the Mineta-bashing argument scene with a taste of disgust. Way too early on, before he could make an objective opinion about Mineta.
"Null and void. You can forget about it all." the Representative affirmed. It sounded like he denied himself authority over this case. "But this is only my decision as an individual, not as a Class Rep. Everyone has a say about it and a decision to make."
This time though, he did not chop around like a string-operated puppet seized by bureaucratic frenzy. His arms were crossed, his anguished eyes full of doubts. I should have said "about HIM". Mineta's not an object and didn't have his say when he should have. So much for a man who pretends to love justice!
Any student with a basic sense of observation could read the self-questioning all over Iida's face. He had definitely given up his certainty that the latest decisions made regarding Mineta were right and fair. He was not the only one.
"You look perturbed, Kirishima-kun." Sero noticed.
"And how!" the spiky, red-haired boy replied. "What I said about Mineta-san was ill-considered. Apologizing to the people to whom you have caused pain, all at the same time and in public…It definitely IS manly. I gravely misjudged him."
As expected from the fiery student, his fondness for noble and brave behaviors revolving around his concept of manliness had him moved to tears, as he boisterously buried his eyes inside his elbow. He now acknowledged Mineta's value. His respectful and kind-hearted attitude was back. The negative outcomes of his past interactions with Mineta took a toll on his pride, and he turned out to be harder on himself than Iida or Midoriya already were.
Sero patted him in the back, staring at the floor.
"I feel bad too." he admitted.
The cellophane wielder had also changed. Once was a time when the word "scum" was printed on his iris, whenever Mineta entered his field of vision. A rubber had erased it since, replacing the derogatory term with "regrets".
This was the case for everyone. Especially the female members, already regretting their private jokes on the phone. Even Bakugo, not the kind of person to concede anything that could take the shape of repentance, expressed with a broody silence what others claimed out loud.
Should a vote be held about whether Mineta was to be accepted in conversations again or not, the answer "yes" already prevailed by a landslide. Whenever the former troublemaker would come to join them, they would make sure he smiles again soon enough.
Unless things don't go as planned and take an unexpected turn.
Like in the morning, Mineta had been first to leave the classroom in the afternoon. He didn't go where a student was expected to be after class – save for a quick stopover to his bedroom to leave his overfilled schoolbag, and the mysterious sheets he had covered in handwritten letters.
The errant boy wondered around in the hallways of the school. He did not feel like coming back to his bedroom, doing his homework, training, watching porn, peeking or apologizing to random folk. Nothing at all. He barely had enough will to walk aimlessly, waiting to bump into someone or meet his fate by whoever's hand. Whatever. The boy knew these facilities' meanders by heart, having memorized the labyrinth of corridors more perfectly than his mother's facial traits.
What he ignored, however, was the name of the one he was about to meet face-to-face. From a safe distance, a boy stole a glance at him with a hunter's eyes.
Here you are! Shinso thought eerily. I've got you.