Chapter Text
Shinsou Hitoshi was many things. Chronically exhausted, eternally bitter, and fueled mostly by caffeine and spite, if you had to boil it down to three. One thing he was not, however, was stupid.
The second that Eraserhead ("Call me Aizawa, kid.") told him that there was an open spot in 1-A due to someone dropping out, he knew almost immediately that it was connected to the furtive glances he'd seen Midoriya get for the last two months. Sure, he wasn't there for a lot of it considering he was in General Studies (and not that he wanted to get interrogated or anything, but it was kinda fucked up that they asked the grape fucker his thoughts before one of Midoriya's actual friends), but he'd seen how it wore on him.
Midoriya had started jumping at shadows, his demeanor changing to something hunted. He sat with his back to at least two walls, keeping a sightline on as many exits as possible at all times. He ate quickly, never lingering in the cafeteria and instead hiding out in out-of-the-way hallways. His shoulders got tenser as his eyes grew darker, and the random phone conversations he held seemed more urgent, somehow.
And that was just the stuff Hitoshi noticed. Asui commented that he'd been practically sprinting out of the classroom after school, and Shoji noticed that he seemed a bit more feral than normal in his Heroics classes. When asked, Midoriya just said some ominous shit about a storm brewing before going back to sharpening his pencils like a man preparing for war.
So when the news broke that there was now an open spot in 1-A.....yeah. Hitoshi wasn't an idiot. Something had finally changed, and now Midoriya was gone.
"Alright hellions, listen up. You have a new classmate, don't scare him off."
Ah, his cue.
Hitoshi slid open the classroom door, a bored expression firmly fixed on his face as he stood in front of the class. "Yo," he said, raising a hand before turning to the board and writing his name. "Shinsou Hitoshi. I hope we all get along swell." He couldn't help the small sneer that leaked into his voice at the end, sure that this class played a part in Midoriya getting the hell out of dodge.
"Your seat is number 18, behind Bakugo," Aizawa indicated, gesturing to the blond in question. This seemed to be too much for the rest of the class, as they exploded into noise as soon as the last syllable left Aizawa's mouth.
"Wait, hang on!"
"Aizawa-sensei, Midoriya isn't here yet!"
"Isn't that his seat?! Did he get expelled?!"
"Serves him right, damn traitor....."
A cold chill ran over Hitoshi, the now-familiar feeling of having his Quirk erased still unsettling, even after all this time. He glanced back to see Aizawa glaring at the class, scarf floating as his eyes glinted red. They shut up pretty quickly, thankfully, and he made his way to his new seat. "Shut up. I was getting there." He sighed, releasing his Quirk. "As of last week, Midoriya has chosen to withdraw from UA. His reasons are largely personal, so I won't be sharing them. Homeroom is a study hall, don't wake me up."
He slid into his sleeping bag and slumped against the wall, and the class erupted into hushed whispers as they took 'study hall' to mean 'gossip hour'. Hitoshi, rather than take part in the gossip, just rested his head in his arms and closed his eyes. If he used the appearance of sleep to eavesdrop, that was his business.
"I'm just saying, it makes sense! He was super sketch, y'know?" commented a loud, sharp voice from right behind him. "Like....when we were at the U-USJ, he just completely swapped characters! One second he's all cool and level-headed, and the next he's losing his shit worse than Bakugou!" they said, voice lowering a bit so as to not be heard by Aizawa.
"Oi, I heard that!" snapped a rough voice from in front of him. Presumably Bakugou, then. Contrary to all he'd heard about him, Bakugou didn't actually keep shouting at whoever the person behind him was, which was....a bit weird. He sounded almost.....subdued?
Strange.
--
It took almost three days for Hitoshi to hear anything more on the reaction front, and that's only because he overheard Asu....Tsu talking to Aizawa on his way to extra training. He didn't catch all of it, but as soon as he heard 'Midoriya' and 'detective' in the same sentence he immediately stopped to listen in.
No, it's not eavesdropping. It's intel gathering. Shut up.
"—told you, Asui. Midoriya's reasons for leaving are personal, and if he has chosen not to share them with you then there's nothing I can do about that."
"No, I already know that Aizawa-sensei. That's not what this is about."
"Then what is it about?" Hitoshi winced almost on instinct at the warning edge in Aizawa's tone. Tsu must either be brave or stupid to ignore it, though even as he thought that he knew it wasn't the latter.
"It's just....." Hitoshi tuned back in so he wouldn't miss her next words. ".....did Izu—Midoriya-chan actually break any laws? I.....I saw the detective, and we were all being questioned....."
It's quiet for a long moment, and Hitoshi seriously considered sneaking a peek to make sure they were still there. Finally, Aizawa sighed heavily, like the weight of the world just dropped on his shoulders.
".......Legally speaking, Midoriya has not knowingly committed any crimes. He was not arrested or detained in any way, and the interview with the detective was merely to verify the truth of his statements." Hitoshi almost immediately picked up on the careful way Aizawa was speaking, eyes narrowing in distaste.
Asui, apparently, also picked up on it. ".......I see. Thank you, Aizawa-sensei."
--
"So, Shinsou-kun! How're you settling in so far?" Hitoshi blinked sluggishly, raising his head to stare at the pink girl grinning at him from her perch on Bakugou's desk. What was her name again? Ashi....something. She tilted her head at him, waving her hand in front of his face. "Hello?? Are you still half-asleep or something?" she poked, leaning in.
"Um. Sorta," he said, stalling as he tried to remember what the question was. Right, settling in. "It's fine. Definitely faster-paced than Gen-Ed, that's for sure."
"If you can't handle it, then get the fuck out."
Hitoshi blinked slowly, narrowing his eyes at Bakugou's back. "Excuse me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You heard me. Can't even put up a proper goddamn fight, relying on tricks and bullshit to make it through the class. You couldn't make it in the entrance exam, you couldn't make it in the sports festival, and the only reason you're here is goddamn pity points," Bakugou snapped, twisting around in his chair to meet Hitoshi's glare with one of his own.
"Woah, hey! No need for hostilities!" Ashi yelped, laughing awkwardly. "C'mon Blasty, that's a bit harsh!"
"It's the fucking truth! He couldn't even make it past Deku, and now he thinks he's got a fucking chance in heroics?! Don't make me laugh!" he snapped. Hitoshi straightened up, mouth twisting into a scowl.
"In case you forgot, the reason I didn't make it past Midoriya is because he's built like a brick wall," he sneered. "He was smart enough to not get caught in my Quirk and proceeded to kick the shit out of me within two minutes. Or were you too busy with your head up your ass to see it?" he asked, eyes narrowing in distaste.
"Oi, fuck you! You sayin' I'm stupid—"
"No, but you did."
"At least I'm not friends with a fucking villain!"
The room went dead silent. Hitoshi felt his heart stutter in his chest, fists clenching as he tried to think of a response. Unfortunately (fortunately?), he didn't get the chance.
"Bakugou-chan. That's enough."
He'd never heard Asu-Tsu's voice sound quite so cold.
"The fuck you say to me, Frog Face?!" Bakugou snarled, small sparks cracking like Pop Rocks across his palms.
"I said that's enough. Izuchan didn't break any laws. Calling him a villain is cruel, and a lie," she said blandly, staring Bakugou down with narrow eyes and an impassive expression. "I don't like it when people lie about my friends."
"A lie?!" Bakugou barked out a harsh laugh, sounding more like a scoff than anything. "He's the one that's lying! He lied to all of you from day one!" he snapped. "Deku's been like this since middle school, it just took him fucking forever to go and show his true colors!"
"Dude, Bakubro, that's not—"
"He's friends with one of the USJ villains!" Bakugou snarled, cutting off the redhead—(Kiri.....something. Whatever.)—as he slammed his palms on the desk. The room erupted into an uproar at that, the noise almost making Hitoshi clamp his hands over his ears for a reprieve from the noise.
Luckily for him, the door slammed open, and a freezing chill washed over the room just as he was gearing up to.....something. Hit Bakugou, maybe? Brainwash him into sitting the fuck down?
"Enough."
Aizawa's voice was a deadly hiss, cutting off the shouting as efficiently as if he'd rung a bell. Everyone scrambled back to their seats, shaking in terror. He stalked his way to the front of the room, his Quirked glare not letting up for a moment as his scarf writhed around his neck like a pissed off viper. "I can hear you all down the hallway. Shut your mouths and listen to the announcements before I make you run suicide sprints all day."
--
"Hey, isn't that Shinsou?"
"From 1-C?"
"No, I heard he's in the hero track now!"
"What, really?! I thought they were full!"
"Apparently someone dropped out? One of the third placers I think?"
"......Do you think—"
"Shh! He might hear you!"
"Hey, Shinsou-kun." He jumped as a large hand rested on his shoulder, scaring the life out of him. He scowled, trying not to let on to the fact that his heart was trying to escape his chest, turning to glare at—oh, it's just Shoji. His glare softened into a neutral stare, eyebrow raising slightly. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. I just....." Shoji paused, before frowning as much as a tentacle mouth could frown. ".....Have you....Have you spoken to Midoriya recently?" he asked.
Hitoshi blinked. "Midoriya? Um...." He cast his mind back, coming up blank. "...I don't think so. Why?" he asked.
Shoji winced, before handing him his phone, open to a news site. The first thing that caught Hitoshi's attention was what looked like a candid photo of a hooded figure being dragged away by police, obviously cuffed and struggling to get away. The next was a close-up mugshot of a bruised, bandaged teenager that seemed familiar, with pink hair and golden eyes glaring at the camera. "You....might want to talk to him soon. I don't know if you saw that interview he did, but..."
Hitoshi looked at him strangely. "What interview?" he asked.
Shoji paused, staring at him incredulously. He even turned his hands into eyes to really drive home the effect, the bastard. ".....From the Sandcastle blog? Kaminari-kun was talking about it all homeroom last week."
"......That was him?" Hitoshi asked. Honestly, he hadn't paid much attention to whatever Kaminari (that's the electric one, right) was raving about, too focused on trying to drown out the whispers with his thermos of coffee. "What about it? This guy"—he nodded at the phone—"isn't him, so....why?" he asked.
"......That's Grizz. They're an underground fighter, and....the one Midoriya was with when the whole Stain thing happened. They're friends. If he's been arrested...." Shoji sighed, glancing away. "Midoriya hasn't been talking to us. Me, Tsu, or Tokoyami. I was hoping he'd spoken to you, but.....I'm worried. He might try to do something stupid."
"Midoriya wouldn't—!" Hitoshi protested, before cutting himself off. Midoriya would, actually. "......No, yeah, you're right." He sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Whatever. I know where he lives, I'll go beat down his door after school until he talks."
Shoji nodded. "Let me know if you need a hand," he said, shifting most of his arms back into hands as he did. Hitoshi gave him a truly disgusted glare for the pun, refusing to admit it was even a little bit funny. At the very least, it got his mind off the whispering he'd been hearing.
Half the day down, two more years to go.
