Chapter Thirty-One : Thoughts From the Bench
Clay had his shotgun in one hand and Mineta cradled in his other arm like a sleeping baby.
"Good job, Clay…" Sero said, waving a hand from his seat facing the main screen. "Guess you'll be going to camp without us…"
"You'll be okay," Clay murmured, scanning for an empty seat for Mineta. The last round between Bakugo and Midoriya was starting, so empty seats were a rare commodity. He finally spotted an empty bench, but just as he moved to set Mineta down, Aoyama slid in like a slimy little weasel.
"Come on, man," Clay muttered. "I don't wanna keep carryin' him… An'… well, doesn't seem right puttin' him on the floor… He hasn't said anythin' bad in a whole half hour."
Aoyama's glittering smile didn't falter as he spread himself across the bench with an exaggerated flair, his cape draping over the edge. "Ah, mon ami, a true hero never leaves a comrade behind! Surely, you can manage just a little longer, oui?"
Clay sighed, adjusting the weight of the sleeping Mineta in his arm. "I get the feelin' you just don't want his dirt on your fancy getup."
"Perish the thought!" Aoyama exclaimed, clutching his chest dramatically. "Though I did just have it dry-cleaned…"
"Figures," Clay muttered, shaking his head. He glanced over to the other students watching the screen, most of them too engrossed in Bakugo and Midoriya's exam against All Might to notice his predicament.
Tsuyu was seated near the front of the room with Ochaco, and Clay wasn't too keen on disrupting them. It looked like they were having a good time, and Ochaco was probably trying to be subtle about how she felt about Midoriya. There was something sacred about it, so Clay knew he couldn't count on any help there.
"Hey, uh… Momo? Could you make like a… dog bed or somethin' for Mineta? He's heavier than he looks."
Momo glanced up from where she sat, her brow furrowed slightly as she considered Clay's request. "A dog bed?" she asked, her tone equal parts incredulous and amused.
"Somethin' soft," Clay clarified, shifting Mineta's weight in his arms. "I don't think dumpin' him on the floor is gonna win me any brownie points with Aizawa."
Jiro, who was seated beside Momo, smirked and shook her head. "You're really babying him, huh?"
Clay thought for a moment, shifting Mineta's weight slightly. "What you do for the least of these brothers and sisters, you did for me," he muttered, mostly to himself.
Jiro's eyebrows shot up, and she turned to look at Clay with open curiosity. "Was that... a Bible quote?" she asked, her voice laced with mild disbelief.
Clay paused, glancing at her with a lopsided grin as he gently set Mineta down on the mat Momo had created. "Sunday school," he replied simply, adjusting the strap of his shotgun over his shoulder.
"Sunday school?" Jiro echoed, tilting her head slightly.
"Ribbit," Tsuyu said from her seat, cutting in smoothly before the conversation could linger. "It's a common thing in America. He mentioned it before."
"Yeah," Clay added, settling into a chair near the back of the observation room. "Every Sunday, Mom made sure I was there. Learned a lotta stuff. Some of it stuck, I guess."
Momo's lips quirked in a faint smile as she glanced between Clay and Jiro. "Well, at least you're putting it to good use," she said, her tone light.
"Somethin' like that," Clay replied with a shrug, his focus drifting toward the screen as Bakugo launched another explosive attack against All Might. The conversation shifted back to the exam almost naturally, leaving Clay relieved that no one lingered on the topic.
As the room buzzed with chatter about the match, Tsuyu cast a brief glance back at him, her expression calm but thoughtful. She didn't say anything, but the faint curve of her lips told him she approved.
Clay's mood toward Mineta shifted only when he heard the boy muttering in his sleep.
"Mmmm… Now take off the shirt…" Mineta murmured.
"Okay…" Clay said with a shrug, squatting down and lifting the mat to fling Mineta off the soft surface. The small body rolled to the side, still clearly dead asleep.
The thud of Mineta hitting the floor wasn't loud, but it was enough to draw a few amused glances from nearby students. Sero let out a snort, shaking his head. "Cold, man. Real cold."
"He had it comin'," Clay replied, standing back up and dusting off his hands. "I'm already carryin' enough weight today. Don't need whatever's goin' on in his head addin' to it."
Jiro stifled a laugh, her smirk betraying her enjoyment of the situation. "That's what he gets for dreaming out loud."
"Ribbit," Tsuyu said simply, her gaze flicking briefly to Mineta's sleeping form before returning to the screen.
"Right… I'll quiet down," Clay murmured, setting his shotgun safely in the corner of the room. There would have been space for him to sit if Aoyama hadn't taken the whole bench in the back for himself.
Clay glanced at Skipper on his shoulder, then to a small unoccupied part of the bench. With a short nod, Skipper skittered down his arm and dropped to the floor. From there, the rat scurried to the bench, climbing up one of the legs and onto the open spot.
Aoyama reacted just as Clay had hoped. With a shake and a shudder, he leapt off the bench before Skipper had even finished settling in.
"Thanks, buddy," Clay said, taking the newly opened seat.
As Clay settled into the newly acquired seat, Kirishima slumped down beside him, letting out a dramatic groan. "Man, I can't believe we're not gonna make it to camp. All those cool challenges, the training, and the food…"
Sero, seated nearby, echoed the sentiment with a heavy sigh. "Seriously, I've been looking forward to that camp ever since Aizawa mentioned it. I mean, what's the point of all this training if we're stuck back here, cleaning dorms or something?"
Clay leaned back, resting his elbows on the bench's edge. "You two actin' like this is the end of the world," he said, his tone calm. "Camp ain't gonna make or break you as heroes. It's just a fancy place to make y'all run laps in the mud."
"But it's not just about that!" Kirishima protested, leaning forward, his eyes wide with earnestness. "It's about bonding with your classmates, pushing your limits, and, you know, building memories!"
"Plus," Sero added with a grin, "we've been hearing rumors about how intense the campfire dinners are. Meat as far as the eye can see."
Clay chuckled, shaking his head. "Y'all're really hung up on the food, huh? If it makes you feel any better, I could probably whip up somethin' close back at the dorms. Ain't hard to make campfire food with a grill and some imagination. I'll bring ya some deer meat after break. I gotta know at least one guy willin' to share back home."
"Not the same, man," Kirishima muttered, deflating slightly.
Jiro smirked from her seat. "You're really leaning into the cowboy role, huh? Bringing back deer meat from home?
"More like pityin' y'all," Clay replied with a grin. "Can't even own guns here. Sounds like Hell on Earth to me."
As the group laughed and the tension eased, the screen flickered, drawing everyone's attention. Midoriya and Bakugo's exam was reaching its climax, the intensity on-screen pulling them into the moment.
Clay's gaze lingered on the action, but his mind drifted to Tsuyu. If things continued to go smoothly, Tsuyu would be in Deercrown before too long. It would be nice to show her around and such, but it wasn't without its issues. There was a chance that Tsuyu would feel like some animal on parade. Not many Japanese women resembling frogs made it to Appalachia.
But afterward, if Tsuyu wasn't so uncomfortable with America and was still willing to be associated with Clay after seeing him in his natural habitat, what then? Both of them had roots—roots on opposite sides of the world. There was no question they were both thinking long term. So, what would happen in the long term?
Clay loves his family. Tsu loves her family. Miso soup. Miso soup.
Clay's eyes widened slightly. He turned and looked down at Skipper. Perhaps toxin resistance wasn't the only way Clay had leveled up. It seemed like he was able to hear Skipper's thoughts. Not just sense them—but actually hear them.
Clay blinked, staring at Skipper, who was grooming himself with his tiny paws like nothing unusual had happened. Miso soup? he thought, wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him. The rat glanced up, his nose twitching, and Clay swore he could hear the faintest whisper again.
Miso soup. I want. Cheese. I like Clay. I like Tsu. Miso Soup. Clay. Move to Japan. Move to Kentucky.
Clay shook his head slightly, trying to refocus on the screen in front of him. Maybe he was just overtired, but Skipper's thoughts were somewhat clear. Somehow, they were what he imagined.
"Yo, Clay," Sero said, nudging him with his elbow. "You spacing out, man? Midoriya's about to pull something crazy, look!"
On the screen, Midoriya and Bakugo were locked in a high-energy clash against All Might, their combined efforts barely holding their teacher at bay. The sheer intensity of the fight drew gasps from the room, even pulling Clay's attention away from his swirling thoughts.
"Damn," Kirishima muttered, leaning forward with his arms on his knees. "They're actually working together. I didn't think Bakugo would ever go for it."
Clay turned his head toward the screen. The match was interesting, with Midoriya limping toward the exit while Bakugo zipped around like a fly, trying to keep All Might distracted. However, Clay's mind was preoccupied with a more pressing matter.
How could this end? The least painful way it could end would be if they broke up. Soon. Before things could progress. Before they could dig more of a hole. The longer they waited, the worse it would be.
No break up. I like Tsu. Think harder. I want miso soup.
Well, looks like Skipper doesn't agree… he thought to himself. Okay, what's the second least-painful option?
Clay and Tsuyu could stay together—either until they died or until they decided later on not to be together anymore. The thought of being with her in the future was a happy one, so Clay figured he was on the right track.
Clay had adjusted to Japan… partially. As much as he would miss home, he didn't think he'd mind moving to Japan. The only real pain that would arise from that would be the holy hellfire his mother would rain down upon his wretched soul, followed by having to take a plane every time he wanted to go deer hunting. There were certainly aspects of Japanese culture that Clay wasn't a fan of, but the Japanese people seemed to be fond of him...
Clay took a deep breath, leaning back against the wall and gently tapping his feet against the concrete floor.
Option three: Tsuyu moves to Kentucky. The most painful option, for an assortment of reasons. Tsuyu would have to leave her family, adjust to life in the U.S. despite having spent only a few days there, and move to a place where hero work wasn't as necessary as it would be in a more urban area.
So, if you broke it down, it was either Tsuyu or Kentucky.
Huh… I'm not usually this smart… Must be the food.
Miso soup. Tsu. You happy.
The whisper was faint, but clear. Clay blinked, swallowing hard as he leaned back against the bench. Skipper's "voice" felt like his subconscious was trying to tell him something, but it was also strangely comforting. If this was some new Quirk manifestation, at least it wasn't unpleasant.
His gaze shifted toward Tsuyu, seated across the room with Ochaco. She was watching the screen intently, her calm demeanor unshaken even amidst the chaos unfolding in the arena. For a moment, Clay let himself wonder if the future was something he could tackle one step at a time, just like everything else.
The thought steadied him. No matter what came next—be it summer camp, Kentucky, or Japan—he knew one thing for certain: he'd figure it out.
The exam ended with a narrow victory for the unlikely team, the cheers of the students in the exam room echoing throughout the room as relief and joy washed over them. Amid the celebration, only Tsuyu and Clay remained quiet, their stillness standing out against the chaos.
Clay leaned against the wall, his gaze distant, his thoughts miles away from the laughter and high-fives around him. Tsuyu seemed to notice. Her calm, steady presence broke through the noise as she approached him.
Her usual composed expression rested on her face, but there was a spark of curiosity in her large, round eyes—perhaps drawn by the fact that Clay was as still as a statue, entirely unlike his usual self.
"I figured it out," Clay said, breaking the silence.
"Ribbit?" Tsuyu tilted her head slightly, her tone soft but questioning.
"We don't have to break up," Clay said, his voice steady, carrying a quiet determination that seemed to hang in the air between them.
Tsuyu blinked, her wide eyes searching Clay's face as if trying to decipher his sudden declaration. Around them, the noise of their classmates celebrating faded into the background, leaving a bubble of quiet between them.
"I didn't say we had to," she replied calmly, her voice as steady as always. "Ribbit. Why would you think that?"
Clay scratched the back of his neck, glancing at Skipper, who was now grooming himself on his shoulder like nothing unusual had happened. "Been thinkin' a lot about it. Y'know, long-term stuff. We're pretty different—roots in different places, families in different worlds. But... I don't think that means we can't make it work."
Tsuyu's lips curved into a faint smile, her gaze softening. "You were worried about that? Ribbit. I already told you—I don't mind traveling if it's for someone I care about."
Clay chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Yeah, I remember. Just didn't wanna be selfish, is all. Figured it'd be unfair to ask you to leave everythin' behind for a place like Deercrown."
Tsuyu tilted her head slightly, her calm demeanor unwavering. "Would you want to leave Deercrown for Japan?" she asked, her voice even but curious.
Clay hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly. "If it came to it, yeah. Ain't like I'd forget where I came from. And, well… I've adjusted to a lot already. What's a few more changes if it means bein' with you?" He paused for a moment, letting a slow, even breath creep out. "Plus, Japan's been good to me. You've been good to me."
For a moment, Tsuyu studied him, her expression unreadable. Then, with a quiet croak, she stepped closer and gently rested a hand on his arm. "It doesn't have to be one or the other, ribbit. We'll figure it out, step by step."
Clay felt a weight lift from his chest, her words settling over him like a balm. "You really think so?" he asked, his voice soft.
"I know so," she replied simply. "Ribbit. We're still young. There's time." There was another pause, then Tsuyu closed her eyes and did her signature, cute frog smile. "We're two very promising heroes in training. Hero business can be quite lucrative. We could open up our own agency, and we can develop it to the point where we could take long vacations."
Clay paused for a moment, his mind spinning with everything that had just been said. There was a lot to think about. He had never considered himself much of a lady's man, and now here was this incredible woman—this frog woman—practically leaping into his life. Offering not just her heart, but the idea of sharing a future together. Running a business, building something real.
"Well… uh…" Clay scratched the back of his neck, a sheepish grin creeping across his face. "Do you take the right side of the bed or the left?"
"Clay!" Tsuyu called, her voice unusually flustered, the faintest hint of a croak slipping through. Her cheeks flushed a deep pink, but despite her embarrassment, a soft, genuine smile played on her lips. "It will be okay, Clay. I love you."
Clay blinked, her words settling over him like a warm blanket. He leaned back into the wall, letting the tension ease from his shoulders.
"I love you too," he said, his voice quiet but sure. The conversation was more than a little intense; but in a way, it was the best conversation that could have happened. Clay had three options, none of them without pain, and Tsuyu proposed one that was far better.
