Chapter Five : Meals With Friends

"So, what's this here?" Clay asked, holding a small bowl of light brown soup with tiny white pieces floating in it.

"That's miso soup," Kirishima replied between mouthfuls of rice.

"Japan's best soup," Sero chuckled.

Clay looked around the cafeteria. His classmates had already spread out: Tsuyu was sitting with Ochako and Mina, and Midoriya was going from table to table with a notebook in hand. Clay figured he'd find out why once Midoriya made it to their table. Taking a sip of the soup, Clay almost gagged, barely managing to swallow it. "Japan can keep it," he chuckled, setting the bowl down beside his main dish, a big bowl of ramen.

A familiar squeak sounded in his ear, and he turned to see Skipper tugging at his beard. "All yours, chief."

With a nimble leap, Skipper landed beside the bowl, narrowly avoiding knocking it over. Like a kid with a pile of Halloween candy, he buried his head in the soup, only stopping to come up for air now and then, droplets of soup clinging to his whiskers.

"Skip, did you even stop to taste it?" Clay laughed.

Kirishima and Sero were laughing too. Sero even took out his phone, snapping a picture. "Looks like Skipper's a fan."

"What? We're letting pests eat with us now?" Bakugo's voice snapped.

It wasn't so much what Bakugo said that bothered Clay; it was the fact that he seemed to have gone out of his way, food tray in hand, to cross the cafeteria just to insult Skipper. "Sure are! Sit down; you'd be in good company."

"You wish, rodent-boy. Don't lump me in with your vermin."

"Wouldn't dream of it. My rats are better than that."

Sero and Kirishima both stifled laughter, though Clay noticed Kirishima's skin subtly hardening, as if bracing to block a fight. Meanwhile, Skipper, blissfully unaware of the tension, continued slurping up the last of the miso, letting out a contented squeak as he finished.

Bakugo gave one last sneer before turning away, muttering something under his breath as he stalked off to a distant table. Clay watched him go, chuckling as he looked at Skipper. "Well, buddy, looks like you got better manners than some people around here."

"Just save anything physical for sparring, yeah?" Kirishima said, leaning back in his seat as he ate his rice like it might bolt off his plate.

Sero was still chuckling, glancing up as he lifted a finger. "Here comes Deku…"

Clay looked over to see Midoriya finishing up a conversation with a tall, severe-looking woman who seemed like she'd never had fun a day in her life. He thought it was kind of sad—if she had the ability to pull out beer cans or shotgun shells from her body, she'd be nothing but fun. Clay turned back to his friends. "Thought that was Midoriya."

Sero grinned, still trying to stifle his laughter. "It is, it is. 'Deku' is just Bakugo's way of saying it, and now everyone kinda picked it up. The nickname's stuck since."

Kirishima nodded, casting a wary glance in Bakugo's direction in case he decided to circle back. "Yeah, Bakugo's got a habit of giving out nicknames like that," he said between bites. "But honestly, Midoriya's kinda owned it by now. Guy's just that determined."

Clay raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Midoriya, who was now animatedly chatting with the serious-looking woman. "Looks like it doesn't bug him too much, huh?" he mused. "Guess he's got more patience than most." Clay figured 'Deku' wasn't exactly meant as a compliment.

Just then, Midoriya made his way over, his face lighting up when he spotted Clay. "Clay! I was hoping to catch you. Mind if I ask a few questions about your quirk?"

"Not at all, sit on down," Clay said with a grin. By now, the miso soup was just a memory, and Skipper lay passed out beside the bowl, his belly fully bloated.

Midoriya's face brightened further, and he sat down quickly, jostling the table enough that it rattled, though not enough to disturb Skipper from his coma-like sleep. "Great! So, uh, your quirk—do your rats always act on their own, like they did in the test? It was like they knew exactly what you wanted without any instructions." His tone was full of genuine curiosity, no judgment, which Clay found refreshing.

Clay scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Y'know, that's the weird part. Didn't even think to tell 'em what to do—they just… got it. Ain't sure if it's some instinct or if they're just that in tune with me." He looked down at Skipper, who was making soft sounds, which he assumed was the sound of a snoring rat.

"That's amazing!" Midoriya said, scribbling furiously in his notebook. "It sounds like they're almost an extension of your instincts, like they understand what you need in the moment." He looked up, smiling encouragingly. "That kind of control could be a huge asset if you develop it more. Maybe you could even direct them without speaking."

"Sometimes I can hear them talk to me, but never when I need to," Clay admitted. "Someone told me that I could work on that, and… what do ya'll call it? When your Quirk gets stronger?"

"Leveling-up," Kirishima said, a grain of rice dropping out of his mouth.

"Yeah, that." Clay smiled at Midoriya, watching him furiously scribbling notes in a notebook that looked like it had been well-used. "You know just about everything there is to know about hero work, don't you?"

Midoriya's cheeks flushed pink, and he let out a sheepish laugh. "Well… I wouldn't say everything, but I try to learn as much as I can. There's always so much to figure out about quirks—how they work, their limits, and how to push them further. I guess I just like seeing everyone's unique strengths and imagining the heroes they'll become."

Clay leaned back in his seat, scratching his beard thoughtfully. "Y'know… that's smart. If any of us went rogue, you'd know how to take us down."

Midoriya's eyes widened, and he laughed nervously, waving his hands. "Oh, no! Nothing like that! I just think quirks are fascinating—especially ones that are super rare, like yours." He flipped through his notebook to a fresh page. "Quirks that summon living creatures, especially ones that can act independently, are incredibly rare. I can only think of a few other examples, and most of those involve non-sentient stuff, like plants or objects."

Clay raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Didn't know I was that special," he chuckled, glancing down at Skipper, who was still snoozing on the table.

Midoriya nodded, his gaze steady and serious. "Yeah, it's actually a big deal! It's no wonder you were accepted through recommendation. I heard only a handful of students get in that way each year."

Sero leaned in, intrigued. "Wait, you got in on recommendation, Clay? You must have some serious connections."

"What the hell you talkin' about?" Clay asked, a little more bluntly than he meant. "Sorry. I don't know anyone. I came here from a trailer park."

Sero raised an eyebrow, looking more curious. "So, you don't know anyone? But… why'd they recommend you?"

Clay scratched the back of his head, twirling his fingers through the unruly jungle that was his hair. "It's complicated. My parole officer thought sendin' me to hero school was better than jail," he said, his voice low but steady. "Some folks higher up must've agreed. Next thing I know, some guy in a suit's handing me a plane ticket to Japan."

"So… you're here because you got in trouble?" Kirishima asked, pausing his eating.

"It's nothin' special. Just a few bar fights. Disorderly conduct." Clay reached forward, gently picking up Skipper's sleeping form and setting the rat in his lap, absently stroking his back. "But you're sayin' some higher-up saw a guy from Kentucky who can make rats and thought, 'Yeah, let's send him to Japan'?"

"Yeah," Sero replied with a yawn, leaning back in his seat with a contented smile. "Pretty much."

Clay thought for a moment. Don't know what they'd see in me, he mused. "How's your finger? Saw you broke the damn thing throwin' that ball."

Midoriya looked up, blinking before glancing at his hand, where his index finger was now perfectly straight. "Oh, this?" He gave an awkward chuckle, flexing his hand gently. "It's… not the first time. My quirk can be a bit much to handle. But, uh… I'm working on it! Recovery Girl fixed it up, and now it's fine."

Sero chuckled, nodding toward Midoriya's hand. "Yeah, Deku here goes all-out every time. Doesn't hold anything back, even if it means getting hurt."

"All-out, huh?" Clay gave Midoriya a once-over. "Guess it's not just the heroes that're tough in Japan—seems like the students are too." He smirked, shaking his head. "Where I'm from, breakin' your own finger on purpose would make folks think you're a bit… off."

Midoriya laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, it's kind of a work in progress," he admitted with a sheepish smile. "I just don't want to waste a chance to learn. Same for you—someone saw a lot of potential in your quirk, and I'm sure you'll figure out why soon enough."

"Still beats the hell outta me. Didn't even think of being a hero until I got sent here." Clay glanced down at his bowl, noticing he'd hardly touched his ramen. He picked up his chopsticks and fumbled with them a bit, but the food was good and filling.

Midoriya's face lit up again, clearly not done with his questions. "So, Clay… if you weren't planning on becoming a hero, what were you thinking of doing back in Kentucky?"

Clay paused, setting down his chopsticks as he considered the question. He looked at Midoriya, then shrugged. "Guess I hadn't thought much about it. Figured I'd end up workin' in a factory or somethin' close to home. Nothin' fancy." He glanced down at Skipper, who had woken up and was watching him, whiskers twitching. "My brother's the sheriff, but he's arrested me too many times to make me his deputy." He laughed to himself, scratching Skipper's ears gently. "But ya'll don't have sheriffs here, do you?"

Midoriya shook his head, looking fascinated. "Not really, no. We have police officers, but it's not quite the same as a sheriff. Sounds like it's more hands-on with the community, right?"

Clay nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, somethin' like that. Sheriff's like… the person everyone in the county knows. They're the one called in for every little thing, and they know every corner of the place. My brother, Riley, he's pretty much the closest thing to a hero I knew growin' up." He chuckled, glancing down at Skipper. "He'd say he's just doin' his job, but that's what makes him good at it." He scratched his beard thoughtfully. "Barn fires, breakin' up fights I've started—he's done it all. He's got a quirk like mine, too, but with mice."

As Midoriya scribbled in his notebook, Clay wondered just how many of these notebooks he must've gone through in his life. This morning it was half-full, Clay thought, and now it's almost used up.

"Y'know, you could probably type all that up and sell it once we're heroes…" Clay mused. "Just don't go putting down any weaknesses. Don't need anyone knowin' I can't handle loud noises."

"Loud noises?" asked Sero, curious. "Why loud noises?"

Clay shrugged. "Can't focus, and the rats don't listen to me," he said plainly. "Basically turns me into a guy who can summon wild rats and punch a bit harder than average." Clay noticed Midoriya's writing hand edging toward his notebook. "Don't even think about it, super chief."

Midoriya froze, his hand hovering above the notebook, a sheepish grin creeping back onto his face. "Ah—sorry! Force of habit." He pulled his hand back, chuckling nervously. "But that's actually good advice for all of us. Some things are better kept off the record."

With a yawn, Clay felt a food coma creeping up on him. "It's all good," he said lazily, leaning back in his seat in a posture so relaxed it was almost as if he were getting ready to nap. "Food's pretty good here. I could get used to it."

Kirishima was still working through his food, so Clay leaned back and closed his eyes, listening to the other students chatter excitedly about a rumor—they'd soon be getting the first versions of their hero costumes. Now that was something to look forward to. He'd been planning to use his old hunting clothes if he had to, so almost anything would be a step up. "Wonder what they'll come up with…" he muttered.

"You didn't tell them?" Kirishima asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sero looked at Clay in disbelief, just as he opened his eyes. "Yeah, we all filled out a form about our costumes before we got here. They didn't ask you?"

"Nope. They just said they'd handle everything."

"Hope they don't put you in a rabbit suit or something," Sero laughed, nudging him.

The thought amused Clay, though he wasn't too worried. If he ended up hating the costume, he'd brought his own backup. Besides, money didn't seem to be an issue here, and, judging by the quality of the food, U.A. would probably bend over backward to keep the students happy.

As the students wrapped up their meal, a low, familiar chime echoed through the cafeteria speakers, grabbing everyone's attention. Aizawa's tired but firm voice came through. "First-year students, report to the support department for your costume fittings. Now."

Excited murmurs spread across the cafeteria as students leapt up, gathering trays and heading for the doors.

"Guess it's time to see if that rabbit suit's waitin' for me," Clay said, smirking as he stood, Skipper clinging to his shoulder.

Kirishima laughed. "Well, we'll find out soon enough! Let's go!"

With that, the group joined the throng of students, anticipation building with each step toward the support department. Costume or no costume, Clay couldn't shake the feeling that this was the beginning of something big. "Wouldn't have eaten so much if I knew we weren't done for the day."

"Yeah," Sero added. "Aizawa told us we were done."

"It's just costume fittings, ribbit."

Clay jumped at Tsuyu's quiet voice, and Skipper had to dig his claws into Clay's shoulder to keep from falling off. "Whoa! You oughta wear a bell or somethin'," Clay said with a nervous laugh.

Tsuyu blinked, her wide eyes steady as she looked at him, unbothered by his reaction. "Didn't mean to startle you, ribbit," she replied in her usual calm tone, though there was a hint of amusement in her gaze.

Sero chuckled, nudging Clay. "Yeah, she's got that stealth mode down. Careful—she'll just pop up when you least expect it."

Clay laughed, rubbing his shoulder where Skipper had dug in. "You're quiet for a frog, Tsuyu."

She tilted her head, looking thoughtful. "I guess I've just always been like that. But… good to know I'm keeping you alert." The faintest trace of a smile crossed her face, barely noticeable, but Clay caught it and felt a flicker of warmth. Even in her quiet way, Tsuyu had a knack for grounding him, calming his nerves.

As they reached the entrance to the support department, the large metal doors slid open with a hiss, revealing an expansive workshop filled with tools, parts, and what looked like half-finished gadgets lining the walls. The air smelled of metal and machinery oil, and a steady hum of equipment filled the room. Support students and engineers bustled around, already consulting with first-years about their quirks and costume needs.

One of the support students—a girl with goggles and pink wild, oddly-structured hair—spotted them and practically sprinted over, an excited grin on her face. "You guys must be the first-years!" she exclaimed, practically bouncing on her feet. "I'm Hatsume Mei, and you're here to get outfitted for your hero costumes, right?"

Sadly, there were no costumes ready—just invasive measurements. Clay had never been measured so thoroughly before; he usually just wore whatever clothes happened to be lying around.

"Whoa! Buy me dinner first!" Clay hollered, batting Mei's hand away as she reached for a more delicate part of his body.

Hatsume didn't miss a beat, waving off his comment with a laugh. "No time for dinner—precision is everything!" She adjusted her goggles, pushing them firmly onto her face as she jotted down numbers and muttered to herself, clearly too engrossed in her work to notice Clay's discomfort.

"Just… make sure the sleeves are loose so—" he began.

"—the rats can scurry out. I know!" she interrupted, finishing his sentence as if she'd anticipated his needs before he even voiced them. She looked up at him with a glint in her eye, her pencil poised with dramatic flair. "Trust me, I've got plans."