HINT #6- The three times people found out Kaminari can speak multiple languages.

English had always come somewhat naturally to Kaminari.

He'd learned to speak it fluently when he was no more than four-years-old, something he was rather proud of. The blond knew that most would say it was an impossible feat to master a second language at that age, and he'd hardly been able to believe it himself looking back on it, but then again, threats of torture and starvation were always a good motivator.

Though he wasn't an assassin at the time, his parents had made it crystal clear he was being groomed to be the finest there ever was, something he'd initially thought sounded cool before he'd realized what the job entailed.

Thought Kaminari's parents ruled over the underground black market, most of the offers, trades, and killing requests came from Americans either hiding out in Japan or living there to take advantage of the abundance of illegal activity going on under the Hero Commission's radar. Kaminari couldn't even remember the number of times he'd been asked to smuggle one illegal substance after another from the ports to the base.

It was one of his least favorites jobs, mainly because it involved approximately zero action and was boring as hell, but talking with the American men and women accompanying him to the base (and sometimes to their untimely death), was one of his favorite pastimes. It was a rare moment of peace for the young boy in his world of blood, sweat, and tears.

Mostly blood.

Though some traders were terrible people with no regard for personal space, sometimes going as far as to touch Kaminari in places they shouldn't (to which he would promptly punch them in the face because he was nine fucking years old, damn it), most were relatively pleasant people who kept their involvement in the smuggling business a secret from their families and friends.

The friendly Americans always had stories to share, stories of Christmas with their spouses, birthday parties with their children, late night with their friends, and dinners with their neighbors. They would ramble gleefully about their everyday lives, and Kaminari would listen, always with a hint of a smile on his face, to stories of a life he thought he'd never get the chance to have.

Of course, as they had done so many other times, Class 1-A proved him wrong.

Despite that glorious fact, one that Kaminari was eternally grateful for, English still held a special place in his heart, which was why when he caught Yaoyorozu murmuring some very vulgar slurs about a certain purple pervert hero in quiet English, he'd burst out laughing.

It was the middle of the night, one of the rare free days Kaminari allowed himself to have without training, starving, dehydrating, cutting, or sleep-depriving himself. It was nice, sure, but given the fact that Kaminari had little to no sleep schedule at all, getting some propped shuteye had been harder then he'd initially thought. Instead of lying awake staring at the ceiling for six more hours or waking up one of his friends, he'd instead opted to raid the snack drawer and see what he could find.

It was a luxury he seldom allowed himself to have, as keeping his body fit and lean was important in his previous line of work, but he'd just decided to fuck it and do longer stamina training the next week.

He'd just been planning to get a couple of snacks, a water bottle, and maybe swipe a few Takis from Bakugou's secret stash that he'd specifically been told not to touch, just for the fun of it. Nothing special, really. He'd estimated it would take him three minutes if even that.

He figured that he'd be the only one up at such an ungodly hour, given that they had school tomorrow and the resident night owl Todoroki had been forcibly put to bed by Midoriya and the rest of his crew after staying up for three nights straight. Kaminari couldn't help but crack a smile at that. Amateurs. Three nights was nothing.

Point is, he wasn't expecting anyone else to be up, which was why when he'd heard a harsh "MotherFUCKER they literally look like purple fucking ball-sacks" from the other side of the common room he'd lost his shit.

No amount of extensive stealth training could conceal the laugh that bubbled up out of his throat, nor the snorts he produced as he tried to push them back in. The last time he'd heard someone swear in English was ages ago. He couldn't have been more than eight or nine.

"OH MY FUCKING SHIT." Whoops. He'd startled them. There it was again, that same thickly accented English voice with the comedic timing of a god. Kaminari doubled over all over again, not even trying this time to conceal his giggles. He quickly stumbled around the kitchen and into the common room, all sense of agility and balance failing him, not that he cared at the moment.

Yaoyorozu was sitting straight up when Kaminari finally tumbled into the common room, barely able to make it to the couch before crumpling in a heap of flushed skin and laughter. She regarded him with wide eyes and an open mouth. She'd taken her little rant session downstairs for a reason, that being so no one could hear her thoughts on a certain purple hero even though she suspected everyone would agree with what she had to say, and even then she'd taken extra precautions by putting her years of private tutoring to use and getting her complaints off her chest in English instead of Japanese, just in case someone did come down.

So why in the world was Kaminari laughing so hard?

"Sorry. Sorry." The blond barely managed to regain enough composure to lift his face from where it was buried in the couch and look Yaoyorozu in the eye. All thoughts of discretion were thrown entirely out the window; something Kaminari probably should've taken into account but was too caught in the moment to do so. "Just... a purple ball-sack?"

Yaoyorozu gave a sheepish chuckle as Kaminari shoved his face into the couch cushions once again, shoulders shaking from concealed laughter. "Yeah, uh..." She never once took her eyes off Kaminari. "I mean..."

Kaminari waved away whatever she'd been about to say. "Don't even sweat it, Momo," He said between giggles. "I'm kinda friends with Mineta, but he's a dick and you're totally right." Kaminari heaved himself out of the cushions and collapsed face-up on the couch, shooting a shit-eating grin right in Yaoyorozu's face. "What'd he do that got you all pissed?"

Yaoyorozu just blinked. What the fuck. First of all, Kaminari was up and about at one in the morning, which was strange considering he was usually the hardest to wake up out of all the 1-A students. Secondly, he'd come stumbling into the common room acting and rambling like a drunk idiot. As if that wasn't weird enough, he'd understood English way past the level they were learning, not to mention it was a known fact he had the worst English grades in the class, if not the hero course.

Yaoyorozu opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "Hey, Kaminari?" She said in careful English, completely ignoring his question. "Can you...understand what I'm saying right now?"

She did a double-take as Kaminari nodded resolutely, obviously still on a high from his near-endless bout of laughter. "Yep! Every word." He regarded her with innocent eyes and a coy smile, clearly enjoying whatever game he was playing. "I do take English with the rest of you guys, you know." He didn't know whether it was because of his overly-giddy, ADHD brain or because it was just so fun seeing Yaoyorozu's shocked expression, but all secrecy had been thrown out the window. Might as well have some fun with it. "I'd say I'm about an average, y' know, normal level."

Yaoyorozu's jaw dropped. Denki Kaminari, the lovable idiot with the worst grades in nearly every class, was speaking perfect English in a perfect accent that Yaoyorozu herself hadn't even been able to accomplish even though she'd been learning the language since she was eight years old. If she didn't know any better, Kaminari could've told her he was a full-blooded American and she'd be none the wiser.

Yaoyorozu shook her head. This was way too much to process at one time, not to mention the fact that Kaminari's teasing grin was shooting right in her face. "Kaminari."

"Yes?"

"What the fuck."

The blond winked at her, switching back to Japanese effortlessly. "Language."

Yaoyorozu couldn't even muster enough energy to flip him off, just stare at him blankly with her mouth open and eyes wide. She was tired, she was confused, and she needed answers right this second before she had an aneurysm, which she was ninety-nine percent certain she'd get if an explanation wasn't provided within thirty seconds.

"You know what I mean." Her tone was harsh but lacked any bite. "The whole..." She gestured uselessly at the blond. "Fluent...language...English thingie."

Kaminari just smirked, slowly but surely getting a better grasp on what he'd just admitted as he became better in control of his senses and laughter. He was lucky he'd slipped up with only Yaoyorozu around and not the entire class. He steadily rose from the couch, hyper-aware of his friend's questioning stare. Slowly, he turned until they locked eyes, the infuriatingly mischievous grin still plastered on his face.

"No one'll ever believe you."

And before Yaoyorozu could so much as protest, Kaminari blew her a kiss and flounced away.

When Yaoyorozu had made claims the next morning that Kaminari was some sort of secret genius, everyone had exchanged side-eyed glances, sympathetic smiles, and went along with their day.

After about a week of trying, Yaoyorozu gave up in convincing her classmates of Kaminari's hidden talent.

After two weeks of knowing, she went to Kaminari for English help for the first time.

After three weeks, she let the issue drop, though for the life of her she couldn't figure out why Kaminari still got the worst grades in the class when it came to language.

Kaminari had just stood by silently, watching everything unfold.

He'd gotten lucky. Really lucky.

xxx

Kaminari had learned Russian under...less than ideal circumstances.

At the mere age of five, his parents had flown from Japan all the way to Russia and dropped him off in the middle of nowhere with only a small sack of food, a sippy cup full of water, a pocketknife, and the clothes on his back to survive the freezing conditions. He was left with only one explanation written on a thin strip of paper found in the tiny sack of food: get back home in six months or suffer the consequences.

Kaminari had nearly died only hours after his parents had left. The snow already reached all the way up to the poor five-year-old's waist, and the blizzard he'd been trapped in showed no signs of letting up soon. He'd suspected that his parents couldn't care less whether he survived or not, but he wasn't going to take any chances with the two most ruthless villains to date. Knowing them, they'd probably find a way to bring him back to life just to beat him to the brink of death all over again.

The little boy had been trudging for hours, the cargo pants and t-shirt doing absolutely nothing for his frostbitten skin and hypothermia. The water he'd been given had turned to ice, the sack of food had been lost far back down the trail, and he could feel the frozen metal of the knife through the pocket he'd stored it in.

Thankfully, for once in his miserable life the gods of luck decided to shine their light upon him, for when his skin was white and his lips blue, a kind man with a team of sled-dogs found him standing in the snow, tears frozen to his cheeks and shivering like his life depended on it. The man had immediately scooped the boy up and traveled as quickly as he could to the nearest town, screaming for help in some language the five-year-old didn't understand with panic written all over the mysterious man's face.

The rest of his journey had been significantly more straightforward. The townspeople cared for him for some time, a concept foreign to Kaminari, who was always expecting a slap or a harsh reprimand in place of a soothing hand and gentle praise. It was a nice change, but Kaminari could never fully relax. The threat of violence loomed permanently over the boy's head, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Along the way, Kaminari had eventually been able to pick up on the language himself thanks to simply being around people who spoke it twenty-four seven. It wasn't easy, but with the help of the nice lady at the front desk at the inn and a young school teacher, he'd learned it in just under three months.

He didn't remember much of Russia other than the language, but he knew was that he'd eventually made it back before the time limit. His welcome home gift had been fifty lashes on his back instead of a hundred.

Kaminari didn't particularly like the language. He loved the people that had taught it to him, yes, but the language itself only served to remind him of the fleeting kindness he'd been given by the townspeople, only to have it ripped away for another ten years the very second he got back home. In a way, losing that bit of hope was worse than having none to begin with.

Kaminari sometimes unconsciously found himself reading foreign articles online or listening to the Russian news, but all in all, he tried to avoid speaking the language as a whole.

But, of course, the universe had other plans.

"Broooo, this is fucking impossible." Kirishima groaned, gesturing helplessly to the sheets of paper splayed out on the coffee table. "How the hell are we supposed to read an article if the article is in a different freaking language."

Jirou just rolled her eyes and went back to scrolling through her phone. "I dunno, man. Ask the class rep." She lifted an accusatory eyebrow Iida's way. "He's the reason for all this pain and suffering."

Iida didn't even spare her a glance, instead opting to reposition his glasses with an arrogant huff. "I'm telling you, this is the best way to get a good grade on this project! Articles from Professor Bleak's homeland is the most reliable source for information! We can't just use the regular Japanese articles on him! They're all filled with exaggerated stunts and false information."

Tsuyu offered a weak smile, though it was clear she was as exhausted as the rest of them. "With all due respect Iida, the project was just to research and report on Professor Bleak, not write a full in-depth analysis. I don't think Mr. Aizawa will care either way."

"Plus, his villain name fucking sucks. What fucking drugs was he on when he chose the name Professor Bleak."

"Language, Bakugou." Iida gave Tsuyu an apologetic smile before continuing. "I'm telling you, this will get us a good grade for sure." He wrinkled his nose. "Lord knows some of you need it."

"Hey!"

"Rude!"

"Not cool, bro."

"Eh. Fair point."

"Kaminari!"

All protests and murmurings halted at Sero's call, nineteen pairs of eyes swiveling to the electric blond frozen in place in the middle of the doorway with a glass of water and a few of Uraraka's caramels in hand, looking so incredibly guilty it was almost funny.

Though it was a class-wide project, it was no surprise to anyone when Kaminari had immediately ducked out, claiming he had to do something or other before scurrying away and leaving the rest of his classmates to muse over the newspaper clippings for the past three weeks.

If it had been anyone else, the thought of ditching would've been met with immediate protests. However, this was Kaminari, and regardless of how much they loved him, no one thought he'd be much help with his notoriously bad grades and hyperactive attitude. If anything, he'd end up distracting them more than anything else.

Still, desperate times called for drastic measures, and Sero would say having not done anything for a project they'd had three weeks to work on that was now due in two days qualified.

Sero beckoned Kaminari with one finger. "Do you think you could come and help us with this for a sec?"

"Uh." Of course. Thirteen years of stealth training and the one time Kaminari actually wanted to avoid his classmates, he'd gotten caught. Great. "Why?"

"Yeah, why the fuck are we calling Sparky over." Bakugou absentmindedly plucked another chip from the bowl on Shoji's lap, all the while giving Sero the stink-eye. "If anything, the dumbass will just halt our progress even further."

Ouch. Kaminari said nothing, standing uselessly in the doorway with a tight-lipped smile. He knew they didn't really mean it, at least not in the way his parents did, but what his classmates were implying still stung. He knew he couldn't blame them, of course, since he usually did intentionally portrayed himself as a lovable idiot who sucked at everything.

Still, those words had been punctuated with enough slaps and stabs in the past to make his gut boil uncomfortably.

"Aw, come on, Bakugou!" Mina slipped an arm around the boy's shoulders, not deterred in the slightest when he pushed it off a second later. "Don't be rude. We need all the help we can get right now."

Todoroki, who had been sitting cross-legged on the floor for the better part of two hours, raised a hand. "I am not at all opposed to Kaminari joining in on our project, but I feel I should add that we wouldn't even be in this mess if Iida had let us use normal Japanese articles to do the report." He leaned back on his hands and went back to staring off into space as the rest of the class murmured their agreement, the sound drowning out Iida's insistent protests.

"This whole project is just stupid." Kirishima clicked his fingers at Bakugou, who rolled his eyes and threw a handful of chips in the redheads face. "Thanks, bro." He turned back to Kaminari. "Come on, dude! You've been avoiding doing anything for almost three weeks."

Kaminari didn't move, instead opting to pop a caramel in his mouth and pretend to chew thoughtfully. "Uh, if I'm not mistaken, all of us have been avoiding doing anything until tonight." Plus, he needed to organize his room. His knives were long overdue for a good cleaning, not to mention Midoriya had almost found the stack of reports regarding his parents hidden under his intentionally cluttered room. A simple project was the last thing on his mind right now.

Hagakure groaned from somewhere among the mass of people and pillows. "Yeah, but that's only because someone-" If Kaminari had to guess, he'd say she looked pointedly at Iida. "-promised that he'd have all the articles translated and ready for us to read a week ago."

Iida didn't even bother trying to defend himself this time. "Fine. I take full responsibility for that, but learning conversational Russian is harder than I thought!"

"Wait, you never told us you planned on learning Russian in two weeks." Oh boy, Midoriya was yelling now. Kaminari considered slinking out of the room and just heading back to his dorm, but something about angry Midoriya was oddly fascinating, not to mention Iida finally losing his temper.

"The least any of you could do was help me!"

"You never asked!"

"You never offered!"

"Guys, calm down. It's really not that serious." Kirishima, ever the peacemaker, glanced helplessly at Kaminari. "Please, bro. We know you need a good grade on this just as much as the rest of us do."

"Yeah." Sero rolled off the couch and draped himself over Todoroki dramatically, who, in turn, continued staring at the wall with little to no interest regarding the conversation around him. "C'mon Kami. This is torture."

Kaminari felt his heart jump instinctively at that word, though he kept his expression neutral. He regarded his classmates for a moment, all sprawled out in each other's laps and all over the common room. It looked peaceful at first glance, but the humongous stack of papers and antique articles splayed out over the coffee table along with the annoyed glares everyone was exchanging suggested otherwise.

Kaminari groaned. Fuck this. He was getting way too soft. "Is it really that bad?"

"YES!"

Kaminari couldn't tell who said it, but nonetheless, he shoved his candy in his pocket, set the water bottle down by the door, and begrudgingly squeezed his way between Tokoyami and Uraraka on the couch. "What have you guys done so far."

His classmates' blank, slightly embarrassed looks were all the answer he needed. Kaminari exhaled sharply, resisting the urge to shoot someone a dirty look, and grabbed the five newspapers his friends had been stressing over for the better part of five hours. "Does anyone have their phone on them?"

A wordness nod from Koda was all he needed. "Okay. You better record this because I'm only gonna do this once."

Bakugou snorted, observing the blond from the corner of his eye. "Whatcha gonna do, Dunce Face? Read them to us?"

Kaminari offered a tight smile, the words on the page already making his stomach churn uncomfortably. "Yes"

xxx

Needless to say, the second he'd finished the fifth article, the dorm erupted into chaos.

"KAMINARI WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK."

"SINCE WHEN CAN YOU SPEAK FUCKING RUSSIAN?"

"WHY DIDN'T YOU DO THAT SOONER?"

"YOU WATCHED US SUFFER FOR FIVE WHOLE HOURS WHEN WE COULD'VE FINISHED THE PROJECT IN THIRTY MINUTES?"

"No, but seriously. What the actual fuck."

"YOU'RE NEVER ALLOWED TO SKIP OUT ON GROUP PROJECTS AGAIN."

Kaminari groaned. Yeah, he probably should've seen that one coming.

xxx

Spanish was an interesting language.

He'd been assigned to do a few assassinations in Spain and Mexico, but spending day and night killing people didn't necessarily leave Kaminari any room for casual conversation with the locals.

He supposed he'd learned Spanish more for himself than anyone else. As far as he knew, Spanish was one of the few core languages that his parents didn't speak, which was surprising considering a good amount of the world's population did.

Kaminari wasn't exactly sure how he'd learned Spanish, but he often found himself muttering it unconsciously under his breath whenever he was frustrated or angry at something. It started off as a way to speak without getting whipped for every insult or plea that came out of his mouth, but it had slowly became something of a comfort language.

Kaminari had always liked the sound of it, not to mention the fact that it angered his parents to no end when he would curse at them in a language neither of them understood. Plus, being under constant surveillance and control made Kaminari antsy, which was partially why he'd unconsciously adopted the language in the first place. He liked being able to talk about his hopes and dreams out loud and still keep them all to himself, keeping his parents and their henchmen blissfully oblivious to what he was saying in the language.

Though his hopes and dreams had been more than fulfilled, courtesy of Class 1-A yet again, Kaminari had never dropped the habit of murmuring to himself in Spanish.

He really should've suspected it'd get him in some kind of trouble sooner or later. After all, his classmates were naive, not deaf. Plus, a good number of them came from wealthy families that probably had private tutors and went overseas for a good amount of trips. In reality, Kaminari was amazed no one had picked up on it yet, though on the other hand, they might've just thought he was murmuring jibberish since he was never really perceived as the intelligent type.

In all honesty, his skill had been found out in the most mundane way possible. There was no big reveal, shocking revelation, or even an unusual circumstance. It was just him and Todoroki, rich pretty-boy extraordinaire, sitting side by side on one of the many couches absentmindedly scrolling through their phones with Bakugou screaming over dinner as background noise.

They'd been just lazing around the common room for over twenty minutes. It was rare for so little people to occupy the space, but all of the girls were hauled up in Mina's room and the rest of the boys were either helping Bakugou cook dinner, trying to calm Bakugou down, or lounging about in their rooms doing their own thing.

The two boys hadn't spoken a word to each other, only exchanging smiles and nods as Kaminari flopped down beside Todoroki and taken his phone out of his pocket, which was why Kaminari nearly jumped out of his skin when Todoroki suddenly asked, "Do you speak Spanish?"

Kaminari stared at him for a few seconds, slowly clicking off his phone and slipping it smoothly into his pocket. The fuck? What Todoroki a fucking mind reader? "Uh." For once in his miserable life, Kaminari couldn't think of a single thing to say in response. "Why...why do you ask?"

Todoroki followed in suit, shutting his phone off and laying it on the coffee table. "You were muttering to yourself."

"Oh." Kaminari mentally slapped himself. Damn it. He really had to break that habit. Though in all honesty, Todoroki wasn't the worst person to find out his secret. He was sure if Yaoyorozu discovered he could speak yet another language, she'd have a full-blown aneurysm. "Uh, yeah. I took it in middle school." Kaminari nearly high-fived himself for thinking of that one on the spot. True, most schools had English taught as a second language, but Spanish was never off the table. "Sorry about that, bro."

Todoroki was silent for a moment; his cold gaze raking up and down Kaminari's body. "Middle school?"

"Yeah." Kaminari mentally furrowed his brow, otherwise keeping the bright smile in place. Out of all people, he'd always thought Todoroki was one of the least likely to question his explanation, but apparently Midoriya's constant friendship had brought him out of his shell enough to actually engage in conversation rather than accept the answer and move on without a second notice.

Ugh.

Stupid Midoriy and his stupid freckles.

"I'm assuming you know Spanish too?"

Todoroki just nodded, not at all noticing Kaminari's attempt to get the attention off himself. "Yes. My father was very adamant about me learning for some reason."

Kaminari blinked. "Endeavor? That ugly asshole wanted you to learn Spanish?"

Todoroki cracked a rare smile. "Yeah. I was homeschooled my entire life before UA, so I went through lot of private tutors." His smile slipped, and his gaze focused on Kaminari once more. "However, I don't think I can speak as good as you. As far as I can tell, your accent is perfect, not to mention you were murmuring words even I don't know after seven years of learning."

Kaminari just laughed, keeping his face bright and genuine as he racked his brain for a believable explanation. It was actually a relief Todoroki couldn't understand some of the words he'd been muttering, because that would've landed him in some deep shit.

His parents were on the loose again, according to the Hero Commission's daily news report, having been suspected of murdering five rival gangs in under a week. They hadn't gotten caught, of course, since no one knew their identities, but it had been ages since Kaminari had seen them out on the field and not enlisting him or some other villain to do their bidding for them. Needless to say, he'd been producing more than a couple of angry sentences and curses in Spanish, and for good reason.

His parents fucking sucked, man.

"Why Todoroki, I'm flattered." Kaminari batted his eyelashes mockingly, brain racing for an explanation before settling on the one closest to the truth. He'd never liked lying to his classmates. He could do it with ease, yes, but it always made his gut twist uncomfortably. He wasn't sure if it was because he feared they'd call him out one day (though Kaminari's lies were virtually impossible to spot outwardly) or if it'd make them hate him even more if his identity were to be revealed. "I'm kinda good, I guess. I used to stay after school a lot to practice 'cause, you know." He gestured to his chest. "The whole abusive parent situation. The less I was home, the less they could beat me, right?"

"Oh." Todoroki's stoic features melted into something much more gentle. "Yeah."

Kaminari knew that explanation did absolutely nothing for his friend's nerves, but it was the most likely one to get him to drop the conversation, not to mention the fact that it did have a bit of truth to it. He had used Spanish to escape his parents, but not in the literal sense he'd just provided.

"Hey, don't worry about it, Todoroki." Kaminari offered another smile. It looked genuine. It wasn't. "I'm all safe and sound now, see? That's all in the past." Yeah, that was a blatant lie, but it seemed to do the trick in soothing Todoroki's uncertainty.

The duel-haired boy just nodded, though there was still a bit of worry floating around in his eyes that not even Kaminari's expert reassurance could vanquish. "You know you can talk to any of us about what happened back then, Kaminari."

The blond blinked, because wow, how messed up did he have to be for the most emotionally constipated student in the hero course to offer a shoulder to lean on. "Thanks, 'roki. That means a lot." It really did, actually.

Todoroki nodded sharply, stealing one last glance at the electricity user before retrieving his phone and resuming his scrolling. Kaminari honestly respected the guy for not flipping out about the fact that the kid with the worst grades in the class could speak fluent Spanish. Todoroki's level head was something he both respected and envied him for.

"I do think it's kind of funny that you're better at Spanish then you are at English, though."

Kaminari laughed, for real this time, and followed Todoroki's example in settling back into the warmth of the cushions. He'd been about to say something else when-

"HEY EXTRAS! COME GET DINNER BEFORE TAPE FACE FUCKING INHALES ALL OF IT."

Yeah. Life was great.

Plus, if he and Todoroki sometimes watched Spanish dramas and cried together late at night, that was no one's business but theirs.