This took me a lifetime and a half to complete but this is one of those looser and chiller fics I wanna take my time with. Also! So no one is confused, this chapter takes place BEFORE Amaurosis Fugax; but you don't NEED to read that to get chapter 3 of this fic, b/c chapter three time skips PAST Amaurosis Fugax.
Enjoy!
Chapter 2: Request
Midoriya rocked back and forth on his heels. He'd left for the school early in the morning. Most of his classmates were still getting ready when he'd ducked out. Bakugou, Todoroki, and Iida—the only three boys who had also been up already at the time he'd left—had all given him their own reassurances before he'd left. Todoroki had given his shoulder a squeeze, Iida a side-armed hug, and Bakugou had bumped his hip and let him kiss him on the cheek.
It had helped ease his nerves, for the time being. Currently, he stood outside Nedzu's office with an entire file folder in his hands. An essay that he'd taken the time to write the past day or so, class statements and hand-written letters and notes, and a petition were all slid into the folder. He had run through his proposal countless times in his head already and he was certain that he could do this.
He jolted when the door slid open and he hastily walked inside. Aizawa had said that when Nedzu's door was closed you didn't knock. You waited. If it opened when you were approaching you were free to enter. Midoriya had wanted him to elaborate but the stare he was being leveled with had told him not to bother. He hastily walked in, bowing to his principal before taking an offered chair.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting, Midoriya?" Nedzu asked, taking a sip of his tea. A second steaming cup was waiting on his desk. Midoriya glanced at it and Nedzu raised his own cup in an offering motion, so he took the teacup.
"Well, since Mineta was expelled, I know that this means someone from another class can move into Class A," Midoriya began. He took a sip, dousing his dry mouth. He couldn't even register the flavor, just that it was hot and soothing. The file folder laid in his lap. Nedzu nodded. "I-I—um, we, my class—we wanted to give our opinion on who should join."
He internally cursed himself for flubbing with his words and sighed. He'd have to try and will away the blush on his cheeks. It was a losing battle—it always was—and he just let it happen. Being flustered in front of authority figures wasn't anything new and he was sure Nedzu was used to it.
"While we don't normally do that," Nedzu began, and he could see the disappointment start to weigh Midoriya's shoulders down, "I see that you've come prepared."
Midoriya set his teacup down hastily in favor of fumbling with the file folder and passing it over to Nedzu to review. Nedzu refilled both teacups before he took the folder.
"It's got testimonials and letters from the entire class, including a petition, and I've written an essay on why we believe a student from the General Education department would be a good candidate—" Midoriya says quickly but confidently. Nedzu's eyes landed on the name and he looked up at Midoriya with an unnatural smile. "—and we'd love to have them in the class. I think he'd benefit the most, given his Quirk, and his past experiences, and Aizawa-sensei would work well with him—"
Nedzu's smile turned into something fond, and he quickly skimmed the essay Midoriya had written. His speed-reading was a great asset and he had finished the essay in minutes while Midoriya had slowly turned from hastily making his case to sitting with bated breath. Nedzu looked through the letters next. Each student had, indeed, written their own opinion on one Shinsou Hitoshi joining their class in favor of anyone else. Even Bakugou had written a note to be added in and signed the petition to let Shinsou join the class. That was marginally surprising.
"Why not a student with a strong Quirk like Monoma or Tokage, or even Miss Shiozaki?" Nedzu asked. Midoriya took another sip of his tea to steel his nerves. "There are a few who could benefit from the experience in the Support and General Education classes, as well."
"I'm sure that there are other students that are very capable but… we all know we'd prefer Shinsou because he'd benefit the most. I think that Aizawa-sensei could help Shinsou a lot. He could certainly help him improve the fastest."
"Are you implying that Aizawa couldn't help another student just as well?" Nedzu asked playfully. Midoriya instantly started to wave his one hand that wasn't holding tea.
"N-no! That's not what I meant—!"
"I see that many classmates have shared their own reasonings for the transfer as well," Nedzu says proudly. Midoriya blanched for a moment, lost. "But, the same arguments could be made for other students."
Midoriya was silent, biting his lip. "…they could…" he admitted. He took a deep breath to steady himself. Nedzu filled his teacup for him again. Where was this tea coming from? The pot had to be nearing empty but Nedzu managed to fill his own again regardless. Midoriya opted to ignore that for now and focus.
"For example," Nedzu continued, "There's a girl in the Business Class that has a rather interesting Quirk with air manipulation; if she'd try to be creative with it. Or, the young man in the Support Class with a magnetic Quirk."
"But…" Midoriya began slowly. "If I hadn't broken my fingers to get out of his hold, Shinsou could have won the Sports Festival. I can't say the same for other students. Bakuogu and Todoroki are just too strong against other Quirks. Getting Todoroki to talk would have been a little challenging, but he'd have no problem with Bakugou. He'd really just need to learn hand to hand combat and Aizawa-sensei could hone that skill far better than any other teacher. Outside of Class B, not a lot of students have Quirks suited for combat or Hero work. Not that they wouldn't benefit from the training, of course! I just don't think, after going through the class sheets, that anyone else would really benefit as much and they'd have to want to be in the Heroics course, too…"
Nedzu let him ramble. The poor boy was trying so desperately to reason and logic his way into saying why another student wouldn't be the best fit without outwardly admitting Bakugou may hospitalize the kid within a week of being transferred. Nedzu could understand the hesitance to admit that possibility. He had already considered it, of course, and he wasn't such a muse to chaos to possibly allow a volatile combination of personalities combine on his watch. The school couldn't afford the bad PR of that. Midoriya, bless his little soul, was still rambling.
Nedzu was nodding along, refilling his cup again. He watched Midoriya falter for a half a second, staring at the teacup and teapot with a growing uncertainty and wariness, before he kept going. It was clear that if he didn't voice his opinions now, it was going to eat the boy alive until he could get it all out. When it seemed he had talked himself into a breathless stupor, Nedzu finally jumped in.
"You've all put a lot of work into this, I can see," Nedzu said cheerily. Midoriya was nodding vigorously. "I will of course take it all under consideration. You can return to class now, Midoriya. Simply inform Aizawa where you were."
"Yessir! Thank you, sir!"
Midoriya rushed out, leaving the file folder with Nedzu. Nedzu smirked, slipping it onto the top of the recommendation files. It was by far the thickest folder on the pile. Perhaps he could get Midoriya to convince Aizawa to give him more time in the scarf as a thinly veiled bribe. Though, it didn't quite count as a bribe if he was the one suggesting it, did it?
Things to think of later.
Shinsou didn't see Midoriya again until after second period. He made eye contact with him in the halls, between the bustling students, and the instinct to turn tail and bail was something he had to fight down. It wasn't like he wasn't happy to see Midoriya again, it was just that he wasn't in the mood to endure Demon Rabbit Midoriya for a second round. He was bound to lose again, anyway, since he wasn't willing to use his Quirk on the kid when he was just trying to be friendly. Terrifying. But friendly.
So instead, Shinsou gave him a wave and Midoriya said something to Uraraka before he bounded over—in a much more natural manner than the day before. With that smile that shined rays like the sun, it still reminded Shinsou of a rabbit, though.
"Shinsou!"
"Hey. Not going to hunt me down this time?" he asked. Midoriya pouted at him.
"I didn't mean to…" he whines. Shinsou smirked at him, letting him stew a moment before he patted his back.
"Well, I can say that I got to experience being the subject of a man hunt now," he joked, face placid. He couldn't help the chuckle that left him when Midoriya slumped even further, almost in a complete bow, as he groaned. "So, what's up?"
"I wanted to ask if you wanted to come back to the library, today? We all have to study for a quiz tomorrow," Midoriya explained. Shinsou raised a brow at him. Midoriya's face immediately started to falter in his smile as anxiety bubbled up inside him. Before he could start to offer a retraction of his offer, however, Shinsou cut him off.
"Yeah sure."
"Wh—really?"
"Did you expect me to say no?"
"Um… I mean… I was hoping you'd say yes?" Midoriya offered weakly. Shinsou shook his head in mock disapproval.
"I'm insulted."
"Wh—?!"
"Utterly devastated."
Midoriya picked up on the disconnect of Shinsou's words and his deadpan delivery rather quickly, thankfully, and gave him an amused huff. "Drama queen."
"Betrayer."
"I betrayed nothing," Midoriya was quick to assert.
Shinsou snorted at him, ruffling his hair. He immediately drew his hand back like a whip once Midoriya started to blush. He had not intended to do that. Midoriya also seemed too elated, however, to care. Shinsou couldn't tell if this elation was before or after Shinsou had ruffled his curly locks, but he didn't have time to consider it; Midoriya was already talking again.
"Want to come by at the library at the same time?" he asked. "It's all going to be a big group effort for the first half. Then probably we'll break off for whatever else we'll be studying."
Shinsou hummed, pretending to consider his nonexistent schedule. He nodded, hand on his chin, thoughtfully, getting a snicker from Midoriya. "Yeah, I can swing that."
"Great!"
Midoriya was practically jumping on his heels. Shinsou watched him a second longer until Midoriya's clearly overflowing enthusiasm was starting to draw attention. He had to draw him back to reality again with a little snap of his fingers. "So, what's the subject, anyway?"
"English—" Ah, so it was definitely going to be a show with Bakugou there. "—so, I guess I'll see you there!"
Midoriya left him with a rather strong pat on his back before bolting away to his class. He wasn't that surprised, since he was vaguely sure that Midoriya's second class happened to be English.
I wonder if Yamada knows how much they study for his class… Shinsou wondered.
Entering the library for the second time was easier. If he were to be completely honest, however, he still had a small twinge of anxiety at seeing all twenty—nineteen, there were only nineteen now—of the students of Class A at the same giant table. They weren't set out the same way they had been before. Rather, Bakugou seemed to be leading an entire end of the tables, encompassing half the class. Aoyama was lounging somewhere in the middle of Midoriya's endcap array, looking like he had this in the bag already. He already spoke two languages, so really, it shouldn't be that big of a surprise to Shinsou that he wasn't having much problems learning a third. The boy probably had some tricks for retaining the information.
And now Shinsou wondered if he ever slipped up and mixed three languages into one sentence. He'd caught Yamada doing the same thing. As well as Aizawa. Sometimes both men would be giving half their attention to a task and speaking at the same time and the words would slip between languages. More than half the time they didn't seem to notice. It was rather funny when he thought about it.
Midoriya was once again sat next to Iida, Tokoyami, and Todoroki, but now they were joined by Satou, Shoji, and Uraraka. Asui was somewhere in the middle with Aoyama and Yaoyorozu. The rest of the class was shoved to the end with Bakugou, who was already screaming at them for being incompetent. Screaming as much as he could without risking getting kicked out, anyway. Shinsou gravitated towards Midoriya's group, deeming it the safest bet. He didn't get very far before an arm was around his shoulders and he was redirected towards Bakugou's end of the table.
It took all he had to beat down the instinctual urge to flip whoever had just touched him. Training with Aizawa was having some unintended effects on his reactions to human contact. Almost like he was taking a step back. Once he'd successfully beaten down the urge to attack, he looked up to find Sero at his side. How he'd missed that Sero wasn't at the table yet, he wasn't sure. But in his defense, there were nineteen faces to account for.
"Sero," he greeted flatly.
"Hey there! Join me at the English study group on this end. Bakugou won't attack you," Sero says.
"I doubt that."
"No, really, he won't. Trust me," Sero urged. Shinsou shot him an unimpressed look and Sero blinked at him, somehow desperately. "Please? Please. Pretty please—I'll make you the best lasagna you've ever had in your life aside from what Bakugou can make—"
"Okay, stop begging, I'll come with you," Shinsou cut in, shoving his hand in Sero's face.
Sero seemed completely unperturbed at the action—probably a side effect of being friends with Bakugou, Shinsou figured, and tried to ignore how dangerous that felt in regards to Bakugou—but it at least got him to stop hanging off Shinsou like some weird one-armed koala. And really, that was all Shinsou could ask for.
"Why do you think he won't blow me up?" Shinsou asks as Sero lead the way to two free chairs. They were sat right at the edge of the table between Bakugou's rage and Ashido.
"Because."
That wasn't an answer, and Shinsou was about to tell Sero just that when they reached the table and multiple heads looked up. Jiro and Kaminari both shot up like poor souls lost at sea who just flagged down their rescue ship—desperate and grateful and like they were seeing God—and wasted no time in greeting them.
"Shinsou! Sero!"
"Perfect timing, dudes!"
Bakugou stopped his rage fest to look both boys up and down. "You're fucking late, Staples."
"How come he doesn't get called out for it?!" Sero asked, gesturing to Shinsou.
"Wow, I'm here for less than ten seconds and you try to throw me to a wolf," Shinsou deadpanned. Most of the table burst into a fit of poorly hidden laughter at both his quip and Sero's aghast gaping. The real shock to Shinsou's system, however, was Bakugou's accompanying smirk. He might as well try for a clencher. He turned to Sero. "I trusted you."
"Okay he can stay," Bakugou says, shoving a chair towards Sero's knees.
"I was invited," Shinsou corrected.
"By Deku, I know," Bakugou says, kicking under the table to rocket the second free chair into Shinsou's knees. He caught the chair's back, easily flipping it around and shoving it back to the table. He took his seat, leaning over the back of the chair to rest his elbows on the table.
"U-um, how's studying going?" Sero asked, taking out his books and notes. Bakugou crossed his arms, clicking his tongue.
"Hopeless," he quips.
Shinsou's mouth twitched into a small smirk. He turned his gaze down the table, observing the situation himself. Based off their expressions alone, Ashido, Jiro, and Kaminari were by far faring the worst. Bakugou's past rage fit was likely pointed towards those three. Kouda was sitting on Ashido's other side, signing to Hagakure.
"It's not that hard, here I'll show you how I do it!" Hagakure said cheerily.
Shinsou looked further down, where Ojiro was sat beside her and—was his tail wrapped around her? Didn't matter, in Shinsou's opinion, because half the school figured those two were a thing, anyway. Kaminari was hiding—surprisingly somewhat well—beside Ojiro, hoping Bakugou couldn't seek him out. Frankly, he wanted to be closer to where Midoriya was sitting. He barely knew anyone else in the class past what he'd seen in the Sports Festival. Which, for Bakugou, basically amounted to "no holds bar ferocity" and the image of him when he was announced the winner, covered in chains. Not a great first impression for the Festival winner, and Shinsou couldn't really claim if he'd improved since then. Aizawa seemed to think so, based on stray comments that would crop up during conversation. What little Shinsou knew of the class he'd learned through his own observation or listening to Aizawa's remarks.
Kouda leaned behind Ashido, catching Shinsou's attention. Are you okay? Kouda signed at him.
Shinsou blinked at him a second before cautiously signing back. He hadn't gotten a lot of practice since transferring to UA. None of his classmates had started what his middle school had, after all, so he hadn't needed to find alternative forms of communication when no one would verbally speak with him. Signing with someone who was signing because that's just how they communicated was a breath of fresh air compared to signing to someone just because they would never speak to you otherwise.
The only good thing he could argue that came out of it was that over half his middle school class could put "JSL Fluent" on their high school applications. Given how perceptive everyone in the class was to one another, Shinsou had to wonder if they all had taken up JSL as well for Kouda's sake or not.
I'm fine, why?
Do you want to study with us? We're covering Math, not English.
"There's an exam in a week," Hagakure sighs quietly.
Not afraid Bakugou will blow you up for skimping on English so soon? Shinsou signs with a smirk. He couldn't tell Hagakure's reaction, but Kouda took one look at Bakugou, to ensure he wasn't watching, and signed back rather quickly.
He won't have the heart to blow me up.
How comforting.
He could still blow me up, Shinsou signed. And I had plans after this.
"Oh…" Hagakure seemed to deflate a little in her chair. Shinsou shot her a confused look and she perked back up in a surprised squeak. "Oh! Um, well, I mean—"
"What are your plans later, Shinsou?" Ojiro asks.
Shinsou regarded them all for a moment. He had to remind himself about what Aizawa was always muttering. His class was kind and open to accepting everyone. In Midoriya's case it was to a potentially dangerous fault, but Shinsou was certain Aizawa would beat some sense into the kid about how far one should actually go to trying to make allies or friends one day. That in mind, he was confident that they'd at least not make fun of him for his actual "plans" after this.
"I was… going to see if Midoriya wanted to hang out," Shinsou admitted. He could feel his cheeks heating up a little and busied himself with trying to empty his backpack so he could actually get some studying done. He completely missed Hagakure rapidly slapping Ojio's arm in excitement.
"Good news, then," Ojiro says, "I think he is free afterward."
"Where are you going?!" Hagakure asks. Ashido's head tilted their way. Bakugou had deemed her work on the last section of the study packet adequate and had moved on to harassing Jiro and Kaminari.
"Oh, are we going anywhere after this?" she asks.
"Shinsou and Midoriya are," Hagakure says. Ashido's smile stretched wide, mischievous and determined.
"Oh, good! I think he's free after this," Ashido confirmed. Shinsou finished setting his things out, keeping his eyes on his book so he wouldn't have to look at any of their faces. "Where?"
"There's a cat café that just opened," Shinsou says. "But, I don't know if he actually likes cats."
"He loves them, like the great man he is," Ashido says quickly. "Take him! Take him! Take him! He'll love it! And then text me the address so I can go this weekend!"
"All you're doing this weekend is fucking studying, Pinky!" Bakugou snapped. Ashido slammed her head on the table with a groan. Jiro snickered at her, toeing her shin under the table.
"Suffer with us," she says.
"Join us… join us…. Join us…" the rest of the 'Bakusquad' started to chant.
Shinsou left them to their debate on the merits of killing Ashido with studying all weekend and let his gaze drift down the table. Yaoyorozu and Asui seemed to have already moved on to another subject as well. He couldn't tell from here what Midoriya's group was up to, but it appeared to be a mix of subjects given the colors of their textbooks didn't match at all.
"Bakubabe, I'm dying, have mercy," Ashido whined.
"You'll have mercy when you're dead."
Shinsou bit back a snort, covering his mouth and trying to look down at his notes with as much stoicism as possible. Channel Aizawa-sensei, channel Aizawa-sensei, Shinsou reminded himself. He glanced around to find that the "Bakusquad" was still busy harassing Ashido about studying, Hagakure's group was focused on equations (with Hagakure banging her head based on the sound he was hearing), and no one seemed to notice he hadn't spoken in a hot minute. Shinsou was silently thankful that he'd awkwardly sat in his chair backwards, as it allowed him to slip his notebook into his grasp and slip backward out of his seat without anyone noticing.
He was at the other end of the table in another moment, finding an empty seat next to Todoroki and Yaoyorozu. Yaoyorozu turned to him with a warm smile. Midoriya glanced up and just beamed at him, waving excitedly. Uraraka snorted, patting his arm to get him to focus on his own book again.
"Hello, Shinsou. I'm happy you could join us," Yaoyorozu says, her voice just as warm as her smile. It was hard to imagine her any other way, if one could just forget that she could produce a canon from her own body.
"Hey. Looks like you all abandoned English, too," he says. Todoroki hums beside him, looking over a biology textbook.
"Everyone but Bakugou's group, I'm guessing," he says.
"You'd be right."
"Not all of us!" Uraraka says. She held up her textbook to prove her claim. "Midoriya is supposed to be helping me with adjectives," she says pointedly, shooting him a playfully accusing side-eye.
Midoriya flushed crimson, burying his face behind his notebook.
Adorable. Shinsou thought, smirking as Midoriya tried to mumble an excuse, and he was only just now noticing he had his phone hidden behind his pile of books, playing a silent video. His smirk dropped as his brain caught up with itself, though. …Wait a second what.
"Well, stop analyzing!" Uraraka chastised, snapping Shinsou from his own train of thought. Midoriya groaned, closing out the video.
"It's a new debut pro…" he mumbles. "Their Quirk is partially weather-based—"
"Stop before you start on a rant," Iida says, pointing to Midoriya's English textbook. "And focus, Midoriya. This is time to study like the kind of students meant to represent UA!"
"Ah… you're right… sorry, Uraraka. I'll focus, I promise," Midoriya says sheepishly. Uraraka was nodding, smiling victoriously, and slapped her notebook down between them.
Asui elbowed Yaoyorozu lightly and jerked her head down the table to where Kouda was signing towards them. Yaoyorozu watched his hands, nodding along, until he shot her a thumbs up. Yaoyorozu turned to Shinsou then, tearing her gaze away from Bakugou's end of the table. She cleared her throat to get his attention.
"So, Shinsou, what are you studying today?" she asks. "Can I assist?"
"I'm not really studying anything, I already reviewed everything," Shinsou admits. Yaoyorozu was nodding along, but her smile was… off. Like she knew something. Shinsou flicked his gaze down the end of the table the second Yaoyorozu turned to address one of the others and caught Kouda turning away a little too quickly.
They were all really trying to be the best wingmen, weren't they? Shinsou breathed out with a chuckle, shaking his head a little. Ashido hadn't been subtle at all; and really, she was bound to be one of the flashiest heroes to graduate out of their year, he'd bet money on it. Her costume aside, her personality was sure to make her a huge hit. Aizawa would comment on how flashy some of their Quirks were, but he really hadn't prepared Shinsou for their personalities. Speaking of being flashy, Aoyama was next to speak up to him. The boy leaned over the table until he was close enough to Shinsou that he could speak lowly, unheard by Uraraka and Midoriya at the other end.
"So, Shinsou, might you perhaps… have plans later?" he asks.
"Why are you whispering?" Shinsou whispers back, raising a brow coyly. Aoyama smiles mischievously, resting his chin on his hands.
"Uraraka was not pleased after the last time I asked this," he admits. Shinsou raised his brow further. The short admission was really the only warning he got. "Do you perhaps… like Midoriya, hm?"
Shinsou didn't get the chance to see Yaoyorozu gaping at Aoyama, since he had promptly buried his face in his arms, but he did hear her dropping her book on the table. "Aoyama!" she whispered frantically.
"I can see why she'd be mad," Shinsou grumbled, feeling the heat in his cheeks.
How was he supposed to answer that, exactly? He wasn't even sure himself—what the hell did a crush feel like, anyway? He didn't trust any of the movies he'd happened to see or the dramas he'd heard about—movies were always exaggerated with these things. They weren't a good basis for this type of thing. A hand was lightly shaking his shoulder and he grunted.
"Shinsou?" Midoriya asks. "Are you feeling alright?"
Shinsou had the sudden urge to bang his head on the table. He could hear Aoyama giggling under his breath. A risked glance revealed Aoyama was pretending to read his textbook, looking oh so innocent. No one at the table seemed to be wanting to acknowledge what he'd just asked, except perhaps Yaoyorozu whose cheeks were pink, but she didn't seem to know if it was appropriate. Oh, he was going to kill them all. Maybe he could take a page out of Bakugou's handbook.
"I'm fine," Shinsou mumbles, leaning back in his seat.
"Perhaps he would like some fresh air?" Aoyama suggests. Shinsou shot him a glare, but Midoriya just smiled.
"Oh, that's a great idea, Aoyama!"
Midoriya hooked his arm in one of Shinsou's, lifting him out of the seat with very little effort at all. Shinsou let him drag him out of the library and into the hall. He could almost hear Aoyama's satisfied smile following them. He did hear Asui's tongue smack something and a yelp. He'd have to thank her later somehow. Once they were in the hall, Midoriya let his arm go, walking beside him instead.
"Are you feeling better?" he asks.
"I was feeling fine, but thanks for the rescue," Shinsou says. He started to fix his hair—anything to distract himself. "It's a little… loud with nineteen people."
"Oh… yeah, it can be. Especially with Bakugou's half of the table," Midoriya says with a light chuckle and a scratch to the back of his head.
"Mm."
Shinsou started them off down the hall, walking in whatever random direction he deemed fit, looking around the hall at anything but Midoriya. He wasn't going to get a chance to ask without an audience again once they got back to the library, so the question of the café came to mind rather prominently. It was a simple question. And that's what friends did, right? Friends went places with each other and he'd already committed to trying harder to actually do friend things with Midoriya, so he had no excuses here. He bit his inner cheek a moment to ground himself and turned to the other.
"Hey, do you like cafes?"
"I've been to a few before," Midoriya says easily. "Why?"
"A cat café opened up down the street," Shinsou says. "I was going to go today."
"Oh! I hadn't heard that. Where is it?" Midoriya asks. Shinsou couldn't have jumped fast enough on that opening. Thank whatever Kami was favoring him today for making this just that much easier.
"Do you want to go?" Shinsou asks.
"Can we?!" Midoriya asks, almost bouncing on his heels already. Shinsou snorted, ruffling his hair again.
"Don't go all rabbit on me," he teased. Midoriya sighed heavily, shoving his hand away from his hair.
"You're never letting me live that down, are you?"
"Not on your life," Shinsou declares. He jerked his head to the side in the direction where the exit of the school was. "Do you want to go now? Your friends won't mind, right?"
"I'll just text them," Midoriya assures him, already headed off towards the door.
Shinsou had to admit, the café was further than he'd thought it'd be. But, it was still very much close enough to walk, sat right in the nearest shopping center by the school. It was on the far side, sure, but it was worth it in his opinion. Once they'd arrived Midoriya had bee-lined for the cat enclosure to save a spot. Shinsou had almost followed him if not for the fact he was actually kind of hungry. A quick order placement for two sandwiches and a coffee and he was slipping into the enclosure right next to Midoriya at a far end table.
A 'The cats will beg for scraps' sign was set on the table with a little paw print at the bottom. Looking around, the whole café was themed with the paw prints in different pastel colors. Midoriya was already trying to coax a cat to him, bent over in his seat, with his hand out. The feline in question was flicking its tail and staring at his hand as if assessing it. Shinsou took his seat, lounging back in it.
"Would be easier with Kouda, huh?"
"He can't force animals to do anything," Midoriya says, wriggling his fingers. "He just asks them to do things and they usually agree. I think they like that someone can speak with them."
Well, that was nice to know at least. Good to hear, if anything, that the local strays weren't gathered outside the Class A dorms because Kouda demanded they be there. The food and attention probably helped, though.
Shinsou lowered his hand as another cat scampered over. The first cat that Midoriya had been trying to coax over had finally come up to investigate him properly, sniffing his hand before burying its face in his palm. Shinsou was drawn away from the sight at the cat he'd been calling over doing the same to him. Midoriya was absolutely radiating joy.
"You're going to blind me," Shinsou teased. Midoriya stuck his tongue out, carefully pulling the cat into his lap. Shinsou leaned back, his own cat hopping into his lap. An attendant came up to them, smiling at the sight and setting their plates down.
"Careful," she says, "They like to try and sneak food."
"We'll be careful!" Midoriya assured her. She shot him a soft smile and walked off, a few cats following her for a few paces until she reached the door. Midoriya poked at his plate sheepishly. "Y-you got me food? I can pay you back."
"Don't worry about it," Shinsou says. He took a long drag of coffee and hummed. Delicious.
"Are you sure?"
"It's my treat, Midoriya, don't worry about it," Shinsou repeated.
He grabbed his sandwich, having to hold it away from the cat in his lap, which was already stretching its neck to sniff the food. Midoriya leaned back in his seat with a hum. Logically, Shinsou knew that wasn't the real end of the conversation, but he could try and believe it was for now. If he were lucky, Midoriya would forget about trying to pay him back and just take him to the café himself some other day.
The next hour or so was spent playing with the cats in their laps and trying to drink their drinks and eat their food without letting the sneaky felines get scraps. It was easier said than done, as sometimes another cat would try and sneak up behind them to get a bite of food when they held it away from the others. Midoriya had spent a good three minutes laughing at Shinsou's attempts to keep three cats at bay at one point. He'd been unable, just like Midoriya, to stop a few of them from licking their plates of the crumbs. While he hadn't been able to eat his sandwich in peace, he didn't count it as a loss in the slightest. He'd gotten to see Midoriya get flanked on all sides by cats, and even got a photo of the occasion.
It was once he checked the time that his mood had soured just slightly. He hated to cut it short, but if he didn't leave soon, Aizawa was going to have his head. He sighed heavily, picking the cat up and depositing it onto the floor. Midoriya looked up at its protesting whines.
"Sorry, Midoriya, but I have to train with Aizawa and I can't be late."
"Oh! That's okay! Here, I'll walk with you to school," Midoriya set his own cat on the ground and gathered his things quickly. "I'm ready!"
"And I'm ready to get my ass kicked, let's go!" Shinsou announced, spinning on his heel.
"S-Shinsou!"
He was always half-dead and sore after sparring. He was learning new moves, getting used to running far more than he suspected even the military ran on a regular occasion, and was regularly getting his ass handed to him (by his idol, no less). Not that he'd ever ask for any different because Aizawa was by far the best when it came to Quirkless hand to hand training based on the teachers on the staff. Everyone else had Quirks that helped dictate their move sets, whereas Aizawa had to learn to fight hand to hand old school—his Quirk just leveled most playing fields for a few precious moments. Even if the Quirk wasn't inherently great for combat like Nemuri or Yamada or Inui's, they all still had molded their fighting styles to better accommodate their Quirks. Which was expected, of course. Shinsou's Quirk required a response, however, so he was mostly going to be stuck using that hand to hand training when he graduated. Which naturally meant Aizawa was pushing him hard to get him up to speed with everyone else.
All that taken into account, Shinsou was feeling rather drained. More so than usual, anyway, as he trudged up to his room with less social interaction than usual with his classmates. He was still in a rather fantastic mood and was already trying to think through scheduling for the next time he'd be able to take Midoriya to the cat café.
Shinsou kicked his feet, flopping down on his bed, and started scrolling through his phone. Aizawa had deemed him ready to start harsher combat training next week which meant he had to research ways to keep his body from seizing up with muscle spasms or aches for when he wasn't doing adequate cool downs and warm-ups. He knew he'd slip up at it eventually—he could get forgetful of basic things like that when he was tired enough so having a backup plan was key. He could probably ask anyone in Class A or B for advice on that, now that he thought of it. No doubt Aizawa and Kan had one on one training with them sometimes, and they'd all been sparring with one another. Some of the students in the two Hero classes weren't just powerhouses—they were built like houses. Taking a hit from one of them and staying standing was a necessity.
Speaking of the devil, his phone buzzed in his hand, with the start of a message popping up at the top. The username wasn't anyone in his class and the message start was interesting enough for him to click it. One didn't see "what the fuck did you do…" as the start of a message very often, in his experience. He didn't really need to guess who had texted him when he read the remainder, though.
Grenades: what the fuck did you do to deku?
LetMeSleep: Hey Blasty
Grenades: answer the question dipshit
LetMeSleep: make sense fuckwad
Shinsou was already compiling a (very short) will when Bakugou started to try calling him. He shouldn't push the boy's buttons—he knew he shouldn't, given Monoma seemed to do it often enough anyway—but he couldn't help himself sometimes. It was fun to watch. And sometimes hear. Since he was tired enough not to care about self-preservation, he picked up the line.
"Hey, Blasty—"
"The fuck did you do to Deku, asswipe?"
"No, I'm doing fine, thanks for asking," Shinsou drawled. He bit back a snicker at the string of curses Bakugou shot his way. "What's the problem?"
"What's the problem? You tell me, Brainiac! Deku comes back from your little date—"
"KACCHAN IT WASN'T A DATE!" Midoriya's voice shouted through the line. Shinsou fought the urge to try hiding his blush. He was alone in his own dorm; he didn't need to hide, but the implication Bakugou just spouted off like it was no big deal was still enough to make his face go red.
"—and he just up and collapses onto his bed like he's fuckin' malfunctioning!" Bakugou was shouting, completely ignoring Midoriya.
"I am not!" Midoriya shouted. Shinsou could hear them wrestling over the phone, alongside a rather impressive amount of cursing from Bakugou, before Midoriya came over the line more clearly.
"I'm fine! He's overreacting—yes you are!"
"Midoriya," Shinsou says, his voice cutting through the argument happening on the other line. "You didn't get your ass kicked by Aizawa today and you're the one collapsing when you get back?"
"Wh—that's not a very fair comparison," Midoriya mumbled.
"Give me my phone back, nerd."
"Give me a call when you're not fighting for dominance again," Shinsou says.
He ended the call on Midoriya's flustered mutterings on the other end. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he'd heard Bakugou snickering. It was incredibly strange to see the two interact now as compared to the Sports Festival. The difference was… staggering. It was clearly still slowly improving, though "slow" was a relative term with that entire class. With students like Todoroki, Midoriya, and Bakugou all racing like their lives depended on it to be as great as they could be, and Kaminari and Ashido with their endless energy reserves, and the rest of the class simply having learned how to roll with the overenergetic punches it would have been weird for Bakugou and Midoriya to never improve their relationship. Whatever that relationship actually was, Shinsou wasn't sure just yet, but he'd find out soon enough.
The routine of coming to Class A's study sessions was going on at least a month strong now. Shinsou had taken Midoriya to the cat café at least twice more since their first outing—schedules were a bitch—and he felt he finally understood what Yamada was constantly complaining about. Trying to find time to spend with someone you adored was difficult when you didn't live with them and your schedules were fairly packed. As a result, he'd been looking forward to the study sessions of the class.
He was dragged to a different section of the tables every time until he eventually slipped away to join Midoriya and his group. He'd been dragged to Bakugou's side of the table no less than four times by one of the Bakusquad. He'd been commandeered by Hagakure and Asui at least once for help in their math course. He'd had to choose to forego Midoriya's group at least once himself to ask Yaoyorozu for help in chemistry and then another time to ask Bakugou of all people for help in English—and had been caught off guard at the distinct lack of "fuck off" and other swears when he'd invited himself to the group.
He'd been slowly observing the class the over the course of the month and had come to a conclusion. It was based solely on observation and conversations he'd overheard, so it was flimsy, at best. But the class was far more 'touchy' than his was by a longshot except for two of his classmates—who were dating. Their interactions, with the softness and the barely hidden intimacy, mirrored a lot of the quieter moments Shinsou had seen from Class A. That and Ashido, among a handful of others, was very open about her flirtations so that helped a lot.
He was dangerously close to approaching Todoroki about his theory—he'd been told about Todoroki's penchant for theories and then subsequently been warned to stay as far from asking him about any of them as possible—but he wasn't quite that desperate. He was fairly certain that the class was in a weird mix of dating pools, if not one big polycule. Since he'd started to train with Aizawa, Aizawa had formed a habit of bringing Shinsou back to his place for dinners. Not the dorms—the man's actual apartment.
Shinsou had almost flatlined the first time Aizawa had randomly offered to serve him dinner and started for the UA gates instead of the dorms. His fanboy panic aside, he'd been surprised to find Yamada and Nemuri both at the apartment. The cats had been a shock as well. A pleasant shock, though, as two of them had been eager to greet the newcomer. A little too eager, if he might say so, given the one tried to climb him like a tree. Aizawa had to unlatch the cat's claws and hold it for a good ten minutes while Shinsou let it sniff him out so it wouldn't climb him again.
He hadn't even had to guess the relationship between the three teachers when he'd come over the second time. Nemuri had been too eager to drag him into a conversation.
"Hey, Shinsou isn't your student, technically, right?" she asks that second dinner invite. Aizawa was leaning around Yamada, chest to back, to peer at the curry he was making. Seeing Yamada with his hair down—in a bun, granted, but it wasn't gelled up—and the three of them being so domestic was weird.
"I'm training him," Aizawa says. He tries to dip his hand into the curry and Yamada smacks him away with the wooden spoon.
"Oi! No!"
"You have a question on your mind, little one, and I want to hear it," Nemuri says, crossing her leg and kicking it slowly. Aizawa turned to her with a half-hearted glare.
"Whatever she tells you never leaves this apartment."
"Yes, sir," Shinsou had said with a nod. He turned back to Nemuri, a devious smirk on his face and she smiled devilishly back at him. Shinsou decided that ripping it off like a band aid was probably the best option if he was going to ask this question in his lifetime. He was risking being dropped by Aizawa as his pseudo-student, but it was possible that Nemuri would convince him not to kick him to the curb, right?
"Are you dating him?" Shinsou asks lowly, gesturing towards the two men. It wasn't clear which one he was referring to, but he figured it was something Nemuri could probably figure out with some thought.
"Both of them," Nemuri says with a quirk of her eyebrow. "And more than dating," she continues, holding up her right hand where she was brandishing a gold band.
Shinsou's brain stopped working. He stared at the ring band, almost gaping, and Nemuri started to giggle. Aizawa turned towards them and groaned. He stomped over, lightly whacking her upside the head.
"Don't break my students," he snapped. "What have I said about privacy?"
"Oi, you didn't say he was your student, so I can tell him!" Nemuri shouted. She shot him a wink. "Loopholes, babe, loopeholes."
"I hate you."
"Love you, too," Nemuri purred, shooting him a kiss. She smirked when he turned harshly on his heel to return to Yamada, who was snickering himself as he distributed the curry into bowls. Nemuri turned back to Shinsou. "He's such a big softie."
Getting smacked on the back of the head wasn't exactly an action that screamed "soft" in Shinsou's eyes, but what the hell did he know about their relationship? It was strange enough to learn in one fell swoop that his idol was married, let along to two individuals. He blinked away his shock—more happy to learn that dating more than one person was something people actually did (and wed, apparently)—in favor of taking a long drag from the coffee mug in front of him. Nemuri was still smiling deviously. He felt a certain kinship to that level of mischief behind her eyes.
"So, Shou, hear me out," Yamada began, taking special care in pouring the curry into their bowls.
"No."
"I've barely started!" Yamada said with a laugh. Nemuri turned to them, with such a profound fondness in her eyes that it almost knocked Shinsou from his seat. "If we go to France—"
"No," Aizawa repeated. He impatiently stole his bowl from under Yamada's arm and slunk away to the table.
"Oi," Yamada chastised, missing whacking Aizawa's back with the spoon by a mile. "Hear me out just once!"
"I did hear you out about this exactly once."
"In high school."
"You pay for it, and we'll do it," Aizawa says. Shinsou turned to Nemuri questioningly and she just shook her head, holding up a finger to be silent, and watched the two like a tennis match. Yamada was deflating at the stove.
"…I can't pay for the tickets, the hotel, and the whole ass wedding, Shouta," Yamada whined. Aizawa was merciless in his approach of a response.
"Then figure it out."
"You're so cruel!" Yamada shouted, falling to his knees over the kitchen island. "At least help me plan it! Just a little!"
"Ask the others to help you with that," Aizawa says. Nemuri snorted, covering her hand and sighing. Yamada passed their bowls to them with a heavy sigh.
"What exactly are you going to France for?" Shinsou asks numbly.
"Trying to go to France," Yamada corrects. He shoots Aizawa a half-hearted glare. "But Mr. Lazypants doesn't want to bother with travel."
"Mmmm, more like he doesn't want to bother with the fuss," Nemuri corrects. Aizawa was nodding to her suggestion even as Yamada groaned.
"Wait, marry who?" Shinsou asks. Nemuri ruffled his hair. He felt his ears starting to pink and shoved a spoonful of curry into his mouth, hoping she'd chalk it up to the spice.
"I've already destroyed enough of Shou's privacy with you, kid, sorry," Nemuri says.
"What exactly are you three?" Shinsou asks, and immediately regrets the question, because it definitely sounded like he was overstepping a boundary with that. He turned to Aizawa, his brow furrowed, and face pleading. "Wait, I'm sorry, Sensei, I—"
"Nem already crushed whatever illusion you had about the three of us, I really can't care anymore," Aizawa says plainly. He turned to Nemuri sharply. "Just don't speak about it to the class. I'll never escape it if they know."
"Spoilsport," Nemuri says, sticking her tongue out. "But, since I like having you in my bed—"
"NEMURI!" Yamada screeched.
"I'll be merciful and just say this," she continues, ignoring the raging blush on Yamada's face and the one creeping over Shinsou's. Aizawa's spoon hit her square in the temple.
"Fuck off," Aizawa snapped.
"Ow. I'll just say this," Nemuri repeated, "It's called polyamory."
The remainder of the dinner, and subsequent dinners, was spent talking about more mundane topics. Shinsou had resolved to waiting until he (and Aizawa) had returned to the campus to do his own research in the solitary comfort of his own room. The more he researched about it, the more likely it seemed Class A was in a similar mode of dating. Ashido was certainly handsy with enough of her classmates for him to feel the assumption was accurate.
They hid it rather well in public, he'd give them that. It was something they probably felt they had to do. Based on his research, while polyamory had become more and more common in recent decades, he couldn't find much mention of it from the Pre-Quirk era. More to the point, he couldn't find much media or articles about it. He'd been stuck with researching it mostly through community posts on social media sites and the few articles that he could triple check came from a reputable source.
He was preparing for another training session with Aizawa when Yamada had found him, still pondering over the legitimacy of Class A's poly, in the gym. He was used to seeing Aizawa waiting for him in the gym after classes. So, when he hadn't seen him present, he'd sent off a questioning text and simply sat down to wait. He hadn't gotten a response yet, and had been starting to worry, by the time Yamada had come into the gym. It wasn't exactly calming to see Yamada rather than Aizawa, and his brain instantly started to swirl with anxiety and worst case scenarios but Class A hadn't been overly somber or frantic all day so it wasn't likely that Aizawa was in the hospital.
"Yamada-sensei?"
"Hey, Shinsou! So… Shou's not gonna be able to train you…" Yamada started sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. Shinsou stood, grabbing his duffel bag.
"Did work call?" he asks. Yamada gave a nervous whine. "…Is he moving it to tomorrow?"
"Actually… ah… um, it might be… a month?" Yamada says uncertainly. It wasn't the timescale that was what sent Shinsou's anxiety spiraling. It was the uncertainty in Yamada's assumption of the timeline.
"Why don't you sound certain about that?" Shinsou forces himself to ask. He almost hadn't, because his voice had caught in his throat, and he had to force his lungs to push out air so he could speak.
"Um, well… okay, so he was on patrol last night and he came across a mugger who had a weird Quirk," Yamada began. "And he's…. blind."
Blind.
Blind.
Shinsou baulked at him. "He's what?"
"Ah… blind," Yamada repeated, shattering any sense Shinsou had that he had misheard him somehow. "We're working everything out now, but he's not going to be able to train you."
Shinsou was nodding numbly. It was logical to keep Aizawa from any kind of fight while he was blind, it was just odd to hear that he was blind. And for up tot a month. The man was surely going to go mad from boredom. Shinsou had seen Aizawa coming back to classes after the USJ incident still head to toe in bandages and even commentating on the Sports Festival on top of that. The man was not one to know when to quit, apparently, when it came to his own limitations. He had nearly killed himself at the USJ and kept on trucking so the fact he had, apparently, already lost the battle of training Shinsou before it began was a bit of a shock. Which meant something else was wrong.
"How does it blind him, exactly?" Shinsou asks slowly. Yamada grimaced, looking a little pained.
"Light, uh…. Hurts," Yamada says. "Like, really, really hurts, according to him. So, we're just going to post pone your training for a while. If you wanted you can train with one of the other teachers. I'm not as adept at hand to hand as Shou is, but I know Ectoplasm is pretty good for a replacement."
"…I'll think about it," Shinsou says.
It would probably benefit him to learn how to fight others with more offensive Quirks and weapons. Aizawa was bound to start him on that eventually, anyway, especially if he were to enter the Hero Course within the next few months once Nedzu picked someone to start in Mineta's place. The rat was taking his sweet time with it, too. To the point Shinsou almost wanted to burst into his office and demand an answer but that would just lead to his own expulsion.
"Okay, then, I'm headed out," Shinsou announces. Yamada was already nodding. He followed him to the door.
"Nem is home with the cats if you want to go there for a while," he says. "I'm taking Shou back to the dorms. I don't want him trying to navigate the trains back to the apartment."
"Smart man," Shinsou says with a smirk. "I'll go for the free food and cats."
He'd left Yamada laughing as he turned the opposite direction down the hallway.
It was strange, to be frank, the next week-ish that he spent with free time after classes again. The studying sessions had been canceled for the library, understandably. And so he was mostly left with hanging at Aizawa's city apartment with Nemuri and the cats. It wasn't a bad way to spend an afternoon and she was more than happy to help him with his homework while he was there. He could tell, though, that she was getting antsy without "her boys" in the apartment.
He'd been in the midst of pampering two cats at once when his phone chimed and Nemuri glanced at it out of habit. She claimed to have taken to the habit of checking whatever message had dinged on any of her partner's phones when they were away from them just to see more quickly if it were urgent. She smiled down at the screen, which was a good sign, and turned to him as she continued to fold towels. The whole afternoon had been so decidedly domestic with him pinned by cats and her quietly folding laundry that he'd forgotten he'd even set his phone on the table.
"Looks like Midoriya is texting you," she says. Her own phone buzzed shortly afterward and she snickered, sending back a reply. "You might have plans this weekend, Shou!"
"Plans?" Shinsou reached for his phone, disturbing the two cats a little as he stretched to grab it, but they didn't move from his torso and legs. He flipped his phone open to see Midoriya's message.
Broccoli: We're going to the shopping center this weekend, do you want to come? Aizawa-sensei is coming with us
LetMeSleep: Sure, I have some shopping to do
Broccoli: Great! We're leaving Saturday morning, I'll send you the time table Iida made up!
Of course Iida had already made an entire itinerary for the day. He sent back a final confirmation and let his phone rest on the table again, readjusting to suit his comfort levels.
"Are you doing anything?" he asks Nemuri. She hummed joyfully a little.
"Chaperoning that little trip this Saturday," she says amusedly. Shinsou grunted. "I'll behave. Shou would drop kick me if I didn't."
"I think he'd do that to any of the teachers, to be fair," Shinsou says. Nemuri shot him a devious smirk.
"You have no idea."
