"Shinsō," Aizawa's monotone voice called him over. "Stay after class. Bakugō you too."
That was... unusual. Hitoshi's brain scrambled to recall what could have caused his teacher to call out to him but nothing came up. He didn't participate in any pranks lately, he wasn't rude, hell, he even managed to not make Mic shut up when the grown-ass man followed him for half an hour singing loudly because of a dare from Midnight.
So what could it be?
The answer was apparently "Quirk counseling." What? They weren't five. "Not official quirk counseling like what you two have gone through when you were kids but unofficial quirk counseling for heroes. Every hero course student has to go through it during their second year but because of surface simplicity but inner complicity of your quirks, the Principal decided to send you to an off-campus specialist."
"So... you want us to attend... Kinda quirk counseling but for heroes?"
"Yes, that's what I said."
Hitoshi was too tired for this especially after the blonde next to him started exploding, going on a rant about how he knew his quirk the most and no one could help him more than he could help himself.
Eh. Maybe he should swallow his pride and finally ask Midnight to knock him out with her quirk.
Three days later Aizawa escorted him and still fuming Bakugō to a small house in a nondescript neighborhood near the school. There was no plaquette on the building or anything, just perfectly normal for all intent and purposes probably unpopulated from the looks of it house.
Weird as fuck.
His instincts told him to look around but there was literally nothing that could make him realize anything important. Or he was just that tired. But oh well.
Something seemed fishy and he didn't know what. It didn't exactly fill him with hope for the nearest few hours.
That's right. Few hours.
Because apparently Nedzu has decided that the specialist needed from 10 am to 6 pm to deal with him and Bakugō.
That was just... great. Amazing. Completely fine. Oh no, no Sir, it's not sarcasm you're hearing here.
He was too tired for this.
Aizawa pressed the doorbell and waited. A hurried sound of footsteps could be heard soon after and then the sound of unlocking. And then the sound of unlocking. And then the sound of unlocking.
Honest to god it took an entire minute, entire sixty seconds to unlock the door.
Damn, the security was a bit over the top huh? But no wonder considering the League's attacks at UA...
The door swung open, almost hitting Aizawa in the face, but pro hero instincts weren't for nothing since he just sidestepped and immediately went back to his previous position.
"Good morning Midoriya." Hitoshi couldn't stop himself from shooting his teacher a worried glance before even sparing one to a stranger. Aizawa's tone seemed almost soft and he just did not do that.
"Good morning Eraserhead! Come in!" Hitoshi finally looked at the stranger and he did a double-take because what in the entire fuck? That was a child. Okay, he sounded patronizing. Maybe a teenager but with how short and soft-looking the guy was he had to be younger. He didn't wear any uniform though, just casual clothes. The shirt had 'mittens' printed on it what the fuck. His green hair was a wild mess of curls, matching his eyes with the hue but not luminosity. Stranger's irises seemed to shine and damn, that looked kinda enticing. His gaze seemed magnetizing enough but then he turned to look in his direction and damn, that smile suited him.
"Ah, you must be—" But it lasted an entire second before turning first into shock, then fear, then anger, then unadulterated rage. "Oh no. I'm not going to work with a villain," he hissed through his teeth, and oh. Oh. So he was that type of asshole. Great. Another quirkist bastard who would judge him just on the base of his quirk and not see anything but it and— Stranger's eyes snapped to his and his expression softened. What—
"Not you sweetie, come in, come in, but you—" Greenhead's expression turned into a sneer immediately when he faced... Bakugō..? "I don't want to see you. Ever. Never again will I let a villain like you in my vicinity!" Wha—
"Eraserhead, I can see you preparing a 'he's not a villain' speech based on Kamino but I swear to god if you say it I'm gonna plant this door in your face with enough force to break your nose or so help me. I knew him longer. Take him back to whatever hellhole he crawled out from, I'm not analyzing his quirk and that's final."
There was— There was so much to unpack from this. Hitoshi didn't quite know what to focus on first.
Okay, alright, okay, you're tired Brain, but you can make it work, alright. So this broccoli boy knows Bakugō. Calls him a villain. Apparently knows Aizawa too, and knows him well judging from their reactions to each other and casually throwing threats. And— he's the quirk specialist? You've got to be kidding me. Alright, alright, uh... Nope, I can't unpack it.
Hitoshi really regretted not asking Midnight for help earlier.
Suddenly there was a presence behind him. He almost jumped back, monkey part of his brain going like a threat a threat a threat!, then his more logical part of the brain supplied that it might be villains, then his most logical but slowest part of the brain reminded him that the person behind him was Bakugō and that he strangely kept silent for entirely too long.
So Hitoshi did probably the most intelligent choice in his entire week and shuffled closer to Aizawa, effectively getting out of the way of a very angry Bakugō, in case he decided to charge at the broccoli. Not the most heroic line of action, he knew, but rule number one in Aizawa's class has always been save yourself.
"WHAT THE FUCK DEKU?" Bakugō screamed, taking a step forward and then he stilled because Midoriya all but roared at him.
"SHUT UP!" Bakugō flinched hard. It would be amusing to watch if not for the fact that the green guy was on the verge of tears. "I'm not Deku, not anymore. And you better start respecting that soon. It's Midoriya for you," he seethed through his teeth. "All these years, all this damage you've done to me and you dare be angry? Fuck off." He took a deep, wheezing, and probably painful breath and turned to Aizawa. "But seriously, I can't work with him if it isn't painfully obvious by now. Just get him away from me. I can analyze the rest of the class for free as long as Nedzu guarantees I won't have to see him ever again."
"That can be arranged, I think," Aizawa said after a pause. "But we are talking about this later." The man glanced at the frozen Bakugō.
"Oh no."
"Oh yes." The man didn't budge.
"Fine..." The stranger—Midoriya, right?—turned his attention to Hitoshi. "Alright then! I'm Midoriya Izuku!" he bowed slightly. Hitoshi was about to repay in kind but the broccoli stopped him. "You're Shinsō Hitoshi, right? Of course you are, I would need to live under the rock to not know this after your performance during the sports festival! I'm looking forward to dissecting your quirk!" The smile didn't match the person who was screaming at Bakugō less than thirty seconds ago, nor did it match the words. Dissect?
"Jeez fuck," Hitoshi muttered intelligently and nearly slapped himself for that. What kind of greeting is that? But rude words seemed to not deter Midoriya in the slightest.
"Come in! I need to hear everything you can tell me!" he practically dragged Hitoshi inside. The teen tried to look at Aizawa, searching for help but the teacher just smirked.
"Have fun. I'll pick you up at 6."
WHAT!?
"But since Midoriya-uh—" Was he supposed to address him as -san? -kun? no honorifics? His anxiety was catching up to him. Oh no. "Since he won't waste his time on Bakugō, won't we need less time?"
"Have fun. I'll pick you up at 6," Aizawa repeated with a feral grin, already dragging stunned Bakugō away from the building.
"Sensei please."
"He can't save you," Midoriya murmured into his ear and then shut the door. "Now, take off your outer clothes, guest slippers are here, I'll be waiting in the room on the left!" The broccoli rushed over a happy grin on his face.
Hitoshi was so fucked.
Hitoshi wasn't as fucked as he had initially assumed.
He was a little fucked, yes. Especially after he took another deep long look at Midoriya and realized that his eyes are even more beautiful up close, and that he has those weirdly symmetrical freckles, and that he bites pens when he's concentrating and fuck he's cute. So yeah, Hitoshi is a little fucked.
But so far it's been pleasant.
"So your quirk works on cats and absolutely no other animals?" Midoriya was flicking through some books on the topic of mental quirks. They were surprisingly thick.
"I mean, I tried it on cats, dogs, some birds but it has only worked on cats so far."
"And there I thought you couldn't surprise me more..." The green angel raised his eyes at Hitoshi and smiled so bright the purple teen swore any more staring at it would result in blindness. "Show me how you imitated meowing."
"But—"
"Do it."
"It's tea time." Midoriya stood up and abandoned the notebook in which he had been dutifully taking notes since the beginning.
"But—"
"It's tea time," the broccoli repeated, disappearing into what Hitoshi presumed to be the kitchen.
"Alright."
"Teeeeeeea," he wailed.
"Al-Alright..?"
"Alright, have you ever tried to brainwash someone by singing?"
Hitoshi blinked.
"I've never thought about it."
Midoriya gave him a cheeky grin. "And that's why you're here."
"Okay, so it works, but you're shit at singing so you won't lure a lot of people with it." Rude. But hey, at least he's honest. "But have you thought about trying beatboxing?"
"Beatboxing..?" How would that even work? He can't ask a question by making a beat... There are no words.
Apparently his thought process showed up on his face because Midoriya immediately found a counterpoint to his hesitance. "Let me show you some videos..."
"Hey, have you ever tested how much you can modify your own voice naturally?" Hitoshi rose his head from the carpet, where he was splayed like a starfish. Midoriya was in the middle of the second notebook of notes.
"What do you even mean?"
"What's your scale?"
"Scale of what?" Midoriya cringed, closed the notebook, and swatted himself in the forehead with it in some form of a facepalm.
"Oh god," he grumbled out, muffled. "You're either really sleep deprived or an idiot. We've been talking about your voice for the past ten minutes."
Oh. "Oh." Right. "Right." I have no idea. "I have no idea."
"Let's work on that now..."
"You're staring." I am?
"You're pretty." Why the fuck did I say that.
"You're sleep-deprived." Midoriya frowned deeply. "Go to sleep, please."
"I can't."
"But like, currently or all the time?" Before Hitoshi could comprehend the question Midoriya nodded to himself. "That's pretty self-explanatory then." There was a dangerous glint in the teen's eyes. "What if it's your quirk's side-effect?"
Hitoshi could only blink at him for a few seconds.
"Is there a way to test it out?"
"Okay so this is…"
"Drugs."
"Well—"
"Drugs."
"No—"
"Drugs."
"It's a temporary solution until you can get to a doctor and get checked out!"
"...so… drugs."
Midoriya sighed, looking ten years older.
"Yeah, it's drugs."
Hitoshi woke up.
Then freaked out.
Why?
Well for once, he wasn't supposed to wake up because he shouldn't have fallen asleep.
His first instinct was to look around to make sure the entire ordeal with the broccoli child wasn't some kind of crack lucid dream. It wasn't, because the guy was sleeping in a chair right next to him. He looked quite comfortable, the piece of furniture sure looked soft. Hitoshi was feeling surprisingly cozy on the floor. There was a blanket thrown over him and all that. He blinked a few times, effectively getting rid of the rest of sleepiness. Man, that was a good nap. He had no idea how long it lasted but he didn't feel as much fatigue as when he was last awake so that was something. There was still a bit lingering in his bones as an unpleasant ache, but at this point, it was given. He lost hope of ever getting rid of it years ago.
The thing with waking up while someone else was asleep, was that it had a few disadvantages. First, you usually have no idea what hour it actually is. Second, you're bored as fuck. Hitoshi spent a good while milling about when Aizawa was going to pick him up, then about when Midoriya was going to wake up... But then he was stuck with nothing to do, but maybe admire the green-haired boy. So he did just that.
Staring at his face was really calming actually. He had those eccentric freckles, and cute nose... and long lashes... and his hair looked like... a mess... but in an... adorable... way...
Hitoshi was out like a light in a few more seconds.
A groan woke him up. He opened one eye exactly in perfect time to catch Midoriya tumbling out of the armchair and face-planting into a carpet. Oof.
"Arghk—" his voice refused to cooperate for a moment, but he managed to clear his throat and start again. "Are you alright?" The teen in question raised his head from the floor without moving an inch aside from that.
"Oh, Shinsō-kun you're awake," he whispered with a smile. "I'm fine. Did you sleep well?"
"Yeah." Very well actually.
"Oh, great!"
"What hour is it?" He had a sneaking suspicion it was around 6.
"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh—" Midoriya finally moved, to glance at his watch. "A bit after six." So he was right.
"Oh, I'm sorry for wasting your time, sensei is probably already... there..." Midoriya started giggling hysterically as he was speaking, prompting him to shut up. What kind of reaction was that?
"I meant six a.m.," he stated.
What.
"What do you mean six a.m.?" There was no way—
"You fell asleep a bit after five yesterday, and so I called Aizawa asking if you could stay overnight. He agreed." What the fuck.
"But—"
"You needed it. You were barely responsive yesterday, your eyebags are so dark I can bet they should pay rent and you nodded off the moment I stopped prodding you for answers every two minutes." Midoriya rose up from the floor and crouched in front of his face. "You literally passed out from fatigue, Shinsō-kun. That's getting dangerous."
"I—" The thing was, Hitoshi knew Midoriya was right. But he didn't really appreciate it when facts got thrown straight in his face to deal with. "Yes, yes you're right. What does it change?" he asked bitterly.
Midoriya frowned at him, then rose to his feet and started shuffling around the house, picking up sheets of paper off ground and from his desk, that he hadn't actually used in the entirety of Hitoshi's visit. Unless he actually used it when he was asleep. That was a valid option since the chair seemed to be slightly moved away from its position from the last time he took notice of it and—
Aaaaaand there it was. The side effect of having enough energy to think. Thinking.
His brain was always rambling when it had enough energy for it, which yes, was a rare occurrence, but frequent enough to be familiar to him.
Curiously he was even more prone to saying stupid things like that, than when he was sleep-deprived.
Which was bad.
No shit.
It was especially bad because he clearly remembered every single smile Midoriya gifted him with yesterday, and all those concerned glances and—
"Earth to Shinsō-kun!" Midoriya was right in front of him close. "I don't think you've quite woken up yet." There was a small amused smile ghosting on his lips and by god, he looked so kissable right now—
SHUT UP I KNOW HIM FOR LESS THAN A DAY!
Hitoshi backed up instinctively, to escape the proximity to the broccoli. He never trusted his impulses for about an hour after he woke up. Hell, he once threw a coffee pot at Bakugō because the bastard was too loud, another time he confessed his undying love for cats to Uraraka without being prompted, and then another time he took Ashido into headlock because she dared him and he didn't think about it twice—
Yeah, he couldn't quite trust himself like that.
"Oh! Uh..." Midoriya jumped back too but caught himself on the desk before he could completely lose his balance. "Right..." he said to himself before scrambling to pick up various papers and notebooks scattered in the room. When the stack was considerably tall and heavy-looking he thrust it in Hitoshi's arms with a muttered "Here."
"Thanks…" he barely whispered, glancing at the stack. Holy hell it was a lot. "What... What is it?"
"My notes and guidelines on your quirk and its possible uses. Please focus on what's in notebooks the most. I also made adjustments to your diet and gave you a referral to a pretty good singing teacher and beatboxer? And, uh, there's also a few wild notes about things we didn't test out..."
"And, uh, this is the thing I gave you to help you sleep?" He magically pulled out a blister of some tablets from thin air. Or maybe Hitoshi wasn't paying attention, too busy switching between staring at the stack and into the boy's beautiful eyes. Wait—
"You game me drugs?" Midoriya froze like a deer in headlights and then started frantically waving his arms, almost knocking the stack out of Hitoshi's arms. He took a step back. And another as a precaution.
"Those are all technically legal oh my god I wouldn't drug you, okay maybe I did but it was in a good intention and you did agree to that before I gave you anything oh my god I swear I wasn't trying to kill you or anything I just wanted you to sleep because you were saying weird things about how cute I looked and you obviously weren't in your right mind if you said that—"
"But you are cute." tumbled out of his mouth before he could protest. It cut off Midoriya's rant and made him stare up wide-eyed, hands glued to his head as if trying to protect him from the outer world.
"You... You said that again."
"Yes."
"You actually think that."
"Yes," because he loves ruining his life by running his mouth.
"You..." The boy got pink, then red, then burgundy.
It made him look even cuter in Hitoshi's humble opinion, even if a little dangerous.
And then Midoriya looked up at him with a determined gleam in his eyes and snatched a pen and a piece of paper from his desk, furiously scribbling something on it. He put the scribble at the top of the stack, a shy smile ghosting his lips.
"I'll call Aizawa. I think you should leave... But I'm looking forward to seeing you again." He rushed out of the room and from the sound of it locked the door behind him. Huh.
Hitoshi smiled to himself, a little dazed. And then it stretched over his entire face when he noticed that the scribble was actually a boy's number.
Oh god.
He continued smiling like an idiot when Aizawa picked him up, thankfully his mentor didn't ask a single question, but judging by his knowing smirk he didn't have to.
Gah, Hitoshi was so gone—