Chapter Text
The best thing Hitoshi can say about the seating chart is that he sits by the window near the back of the classroom.
He stares out to the trees lining the gates around the campus, generally noting the sun's path through the sky over the course of the day. He lets the lecture buzz on in the background, idly doodling in the margins of his paper. There are a couple of nonsensical doodles, sketches of eyes and of cats, repetitive circular motions. He doesn't sleep in class, at least not since transferring, but the total six hours of sleep from the last two days are not holding him together well.
"Hey, Shinsou."
Hitoshi pulls his eyes away from the window. Midoriya is turned around in his seat in front of Shinsou, a notebook in one hand. A quick glance sees that Modern Lit has ended, apparently, and other students are packing up to leave for the day. Hitoshi should, too.
Whatever Midoriya wants, though, he's dancing around it. Hitoshi hears the question on his lips change direction, based on tone alone, and how Midoriya's eyes flicker to his desk. "Are...you looking at hero ethics right now?"
Hitoshi blinks a couple of times and looks down at his notebook. He hadn't even switched notebooks for Modern Lit, considering he was ahead of the readings. "Yeah."
"What do you think of BeatBattler?" He asks eagerly.
If Hitoshi had maybe a couple more hours of sleep last night, he'd probably be up for this conversation about the hero by day, musician by night they covered today. But his insomnia kept him up late, as usual, and the idea of talking to Midoriya makes him feel already more drained.
"Overhyped, too popular because of his music and not his heroism."
"You mean how he advocates for better hero patrol and support in lower-income communities?" Midoriya asks, leaning forward a bit. "I agree. He's usually the one who has to bring up those topics in interviews, though. There was some stuff in the forums with rumors of some truth regarding what he sings about, but," he shrugs, a hand starting to move towards his face. His eyes drift up, staring off into space. "his music isn't really that bad, and he brought up some of his activism at a music awards show. Also— "
"Midoriya," he inserts quickly.
"Yea—"
Midoriya blanks out, body freezing, and Hitoshi takes the moment to yawn. "You're such a motormouth. Flick yourself in the head."
"Ow!" Midoriya jerks back a bit and Hitoshi gets a look of those green eyes as they snap out of analysis-land to him. He blinks a couple of times.
"Hi," Hitoshi says, waving in front of his face. "I'm really tired. Did you need something?"
Midoriya leans backs, scratching his cheek. "Uh. Yeah. Sorry!"
Midoriya looks so embarrassed that Hitoshi has to bite back a smirk. He places his notebook on Hitoshi's desk. The page is flipped to a section of English notes. "Did you understand when Mic went over gerunds today?"
Hitoshi's mind jumps back to their morning period. "Yeah."
Midoriya idly dog ears the corner of a page. "I'm having some trouble understanding. And since you got the highest marks on the last test, I was wondering if you could help me?"
It feels like an hour passes when Hitoshi is processing what Midoriya asks him, but maybe in Midoriya and everyone else's reality, it's only a couple seconds.
"You should ask Yaoyorozu," he says, looking away from Midoriya's hopeful smile. The class VP herself is chatting with Jirou and Mina on the other side of the room.
"I didn't want to bother her about this, since she's helping other people so often."
"So you're bothering me instead?" He raises a brow.
"I mean—You don't seem busy right now, so it's not like I'm interrupting a conversation or anything," he explains quickly, shrugging his shoulders.
Hitoshi rests his cheek on one hand, on the desk. He studies Midoriya for a bit, seeing the gentle knit of his brows as the confidence dips into nervousness. Finally, he says, "Sure."
Midoriya waves his hands in front of him, embarrassed. "Oh, okay! I shouldn't have assumed. Sorry for—" He blinks. "Wait."
Hitoshi narrows his eyes, fighting the corners of his mouth from turning up. "Wow, already assuming the worst in me, I see."
"It wouldn't be the worst thing if you said no," Midoriya defends. He smiles, semi-awkwardly. "Thanks."
Hitoshi flattens the notebook out and turns it towards the window so they're both able to read it. Midoriya is considerably quiet as Hitoshi explains the concepts and goes over the notes that Midoriya marked with a question mark. He answers Midoriya's questions and even has to reference his own notes to remember what exactly Mic was talking about. There's no embarrassment on Midoriya's face as he listens, just the look of concentration, maybe a couple of notches below his usual intensity. With his features smoothed out, he seems to have lost that nervous energy.
Hitoshi finishes the last note he has for the subject and trails off. For a couple of seconds, they're just sitting in silence, and Midoriya stares down at his notes. Midoriya turns the book more towards him and reads the English sentences out loud to himself, his voice soft and careful.
Hitoshi finds himself staring at him. Midoriya's voice is nice. It's usually loud and nervous, but like this, it's just focused and soft. It's like his constant murmuring, but not as frantic or rushed. Hitoshi finds himself leaning forward in his chair a little, eyes defocusing.
"Thank you so much, Shinsou!" It's at a normal volume, and it jolts Hitoshi a little. Hitoshi sits back in his seat, blinking a couple of times.
Midoriya sounds so earnest that Hitoshi feels a little embarrassed. However, he's mastered the art of masking his emotions, so he just says, "No problem," and rubs his eyes.
"You two."
Hitoshi looks up, sees Aizawa at the front of the classroom, and realizes that the classroom is empty, save for them. Midoriya realizes the same, if the surprised "huh?!" he makes is any indication.
Aizawa, for his part, just stares at them with the typical amount of annoyance. "Class ended over fifteen minutes ago. Go back to your dorms already."
They don't hesitate in hastily packing up and leaving the classroom. As he lets Midoriya lead them out, Hitoshi looks over his shoulder at Aizawa. He's watching them, but Hitoshi in particular. His expression is unreadable. When Hitoshi furrows his eyebrows at him, puzzled, Aizawa doesn't change his expression.
Hitoshi finds himself subconsciously slowing his stride, but Midoriya sticks with him and even walks a little slower as well, so they end up walking back together. He spares a glance at the other boy, remembering how his voice sounded when he was reading out from his notebook. He quickly looks away.
"I didn't think it'd take that long," Midoriya says, somewhat apologetically.
There are still a couple of students milling in the halls, others not in a rush to get back to their dorms, or elsewhere on campus. He focuses on the sounds of his and Midoriya's footsteps padding together, almost in sync. "Did it help?"
Midoriya nods. "Thanks for helping me again." A pause. "If you ever need help in anything, you could join Iida's study group."
"Study group?"
"Yeah. It's me, Iida, Ochaco, Tsuyu, and Todoroki usually. So a quiet group."
"Besides you."
Surprisingly, Midoriya just laughs. "Don't let that discourage you! I try to focus there too. It really helps me focus with other people around, sometimes."
Hitoshi mulls the idea over, absentmindedly shoving his hands in his pockets. "...Thanks."
After that, it's quiet for the most part, walking through the grounds and to the dorms, and as they're approaching the front entrance, Midoriya breaks it one more time. "I meant to ask earlier, but a bunch of us are watching a movie tonight in the common room, and wanted to know if you'd join?"
The offer sounds nice, but Hitoshi feels a sharp unease. He can feel the exhaustion pulling at him, at the edges of his nerves. "I'm good, actually."
If Midoriya is disappointed at all, it doesn't come across in his voice. "It's alright. We just want to let you know in case you wanted to. And just so you know, you're invited anytime. We text about it in the groupchat."
Right. The class group chat is currently on mute on his phone. Hitoshi opens the door and lets Midoriya walk through first. "I'll keep that in mind."
As the afternoon crawls into night and exhaustion curls around Hitoshi but never claims him, as the hallway grows quiet and all he hears is the whir of his laptop on his bed and the murmuring wind outside his window, he finds himself he scrolling through Youtube on his phone. His mind never likes resting.
Among recommendations of gaming channels and painting tutorials, a couple of BeatBattler music videos pop up on his feed. Hitoshi purses his lips, scrolls to a random song, and then clicks play, popping his earbuds in.
A half hour later, with a careful perusal of other songs by the artist, he finds himself opening his messages and drafting a new conversation:
Hitoshi Shinsou | 2:09 am
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V846b5ETp-c
this one isn't too bad
He rewrites it at least three times. Eventually, he just hits send when he's tired of deciding between period or no period.
He stares at the message bubbles where they lay, and for a couple of seconds, he foolishly expects Midoriya to respond immediately. He huffs, puts down the phone, and continues on his internet crawl on his laptop. Click. Click. Click. Video after video he doesn't finish, just jumping from one recommendation to another. There are tabs for bicycle parts open, another window with an outline for an essay on art history.
He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, tugging on the ends. Would it be too noisy to start doing pushups? Almost instinctively, he checks his phone again, and then he's back at looking at different recommendations for watercolor palettes.
He's confusedly surprised when a notification chimes. His eyes widen a bit, and he rubs them, feeling raw and exhausted.
Izuku Midoriya | 2:17 am
Is this Shinsou?
Crap. Hitoshi's quick to respond.
Hitoshi Shinsou | 2:17 am
yeah
Izuku Midoriya | 2:19 am
!! Hi! I thought you didn't like BeatBattler?
It's really good!
Shinsou coughs a bit, to clear his dry throat. Shit. After a drink from his water bottle, he stares at the texts again.
Izuku Midoriya | 2:20 am
I've never listened to that one before. I haven't kept up with his newer stuff but I have some of his CDs at home.
Also, why are you awake so late?? :0
Hitoshi Shinsou | 2:21 am
i only said that his hero work should be more known than his music. and i can't sleep
why are you up?
Izuku Midoriya | 2:24am
try this one: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rT4wUByldo4&feature=emb_logo :3
also, that sucks! is there anything you can do to sleep?
I usually stay up this late and I had some reading to do so I did that and more research on some hero reports on the news
oooohh. i misunderstood. im glad you're giving it a try!!
Hitoshi clicks on the link, then leans back as the page loads onto an unfamiliar song.
This song is slower than the one Hitoshi sent. It's wavy, with the beginning synthetic vocals filling his ears. As the song continues, he clicks on another video to watch some shaky cell phone footage of some BeatBattler rescue.
He takes his time responding to Midoriya, asking about the hero reports and answering his questions. The song slightly picks up when the singing starts, but it's not super intense. When he pays attention to the lyrics, he can catch some snippets of something solemn, darker.
He closes his laptop, placing it on the shelf above his bed. He replays the song on his phone and stares up at the ceiling, letting it flow over him. The lyrics stick a little better, but his brain is starting to uncoil, thoughts unraveling and spilling out in the air above his nose. When it ends, another song automatically plays, and Hitoshi closes his eyes and tries, tries, tries to count sheep.
When Hitoshi opens his eyes again, the sun is shining through the thin curtains that cover his balcony window. He groans, sitting up and yanking the earbuds out. As he stretches, he feels the threads of whatever dream he had slip away, something magenta and something with cityscapes.
When he checks the messages, he sees that Midoriya texted him at random intervals throughout the night, maybe up until an hour before Hitoshi woke up. He linked some more articles about BeatBattler, including some that discussed the hero's call for change, and Midoriya compared this article to what they were taught in class. Hitoshi reads them as he brushes his teeth, leaving his toothbrush in his mouth to reply to a particularly interesting opinion Midoriya shared.
Hitoshi yawns, peering at the mirror afterward to stare at his exhausted expression. Currently, his consciousness is being held by three paperclips, but there's one silver lining.
However exhausted Hitoshi might be, Midoriya is probably worse.
When Hitoshi walks into the classroom and sees Midoriya as cheerful and energetic as ever, green hair perfectly messy, tie fucked up in the only way Midoriya does it, he's split between wonderment and the desire to throttle him. He settles for closing his eyes and napping in his seat until homeroom ends, barely reacting when Aizawa takes attendance and only waking when Aizawa tells Yaoyorozu to wake him up.
"How much sleep did you get last night?" He murmurs during English, staring at the motes of dust in the air, and how Midoriya's shoulders hunched over as he wrote. Mic is teaching, but he won't hear Hitoshi over the sound of his own voice.
Midoriya doesn't seem to hear, or maybe he ignores him. Hitoshi accepts this until he sees the discreet peace sign Midoriya makes over his shoulder.
Hitoshi can only stare. After a couple of seconds, he leans forward and flicks Midoriya at the base of his neck.
Midoriya yelps, and Hitoshi bites the inside of his cheek when Mic calls him out. Midoriya's stammered apology, plus the way he scoots back his chair to jostle Hitoshi's desk afterward, almost makes him lose it. He ignores the looks it draws him from the other students, covering up his grin with his hand.
Yeah, that wakes him up for the rest of the day.
Quirk training never fails to surprise him.
For example, Kaminari is dead set about creating a lightning sword, working on it the whole time they're in Gym Gamma. He's trying to channel his electricity into a single form, and Hitoshi quietly thinks that he'll probably need something to act as a conduit to body the sword and keep it in place. He's sure someone in Support will throw something together for Kaminari if he asks.
Another example: If Hitoshi gets Tokoyami under mind control, Dark Shadow can still appear and break him out of it. When he tries to mind control Dark Shadow, though, it's like grabbing at air. The tendrils of his mind are reaching for something at the peripheral of their grasp, something that slips out of his fingertips.
"Nice try, chump," it hisses. Hitoshi watches as it nudges Tokoyami. His blank eyes bleed back to life, and Dark Shadow crosses its arms, smug. Midoriya, Sato, and Mina stand next to him, still blank and under control.
In return, Hitoshi stands at the mouth of the dark cave where Tokoyami practices controlling Dark Shadow and patiently waits to either be mauled or to not be mauled. Tokoyami is a very strong individual.
It only takes a couple of minutes before Iida realizes what he's doing and yells at him to get out, which alerts Aizawa, who orders him out. He waves the small Dark Shadow and Tokoyami goodbye.
"What a fascinating individual," he hears Tokoyami mutter. It brings him some satisfaction.
A third:
"And I had to swerve to avoid the dog, and ended up running into a mailbox," Kaminari exclaims, hands gesturing to show the trajectory of how close he was, Hitoshi guesses. They're walking back to the locker room. "I lost a tooth, but it was a baby one, so it was fine!" Hitoshi's surprised that Kaminari isn't brain-fried at the end of today, his hands sort of twitchy, but that goes to show his improvement, Hitoshi guesses.
"That's awful," Yaoyorozu says, covering her mouth in shock. Hitoshi eyes the Russian doll in her hands, which bears a striking resemblance to Aizawa.
"That's why you're supposed to wear a helmet," Jirou interjects, on the other side of Yaoyorozu. She's also clutching a Russian doll, though this one has blonde hair and orange triangles for eyes. "Though it explains a lot."
Hitoshi moves his head to dodge Kaminari's exasperated motions. "Come on, only fraidy cats wore helmets! Right, Shinsou?"
"I wore a helmet," he responds. Jirou grins smugly at Kaminari, who slaps his shoulder. Hitoshi flinches from the small static shock.
"You're supposed to be on my side, dude!"
"I can crack my head open later if you want me to."
Kirishima speaks up from behind them. "Once I biked down a hill super fast and crashed in the street. I still have the scars on my knees from the impact."
Bakugo has to comment, of course. "You moron, why didn't you use your quirk when you hit the pavement?"
"I was like, six, cut me some slack, man!"
"Do you have any funny bike memories, Midoriya?" Uraraka asks. "Once, I rode my bike into the street, and there was a car coming, so I panicked and made my bike float over it!"
"That's sick," Kaminari acknowledges, nodding. The others gasp at that.
"Uraraka! That's so incredibly dangerous and irresponsible!" Iida scolds. Hitoshi grins to himself. It sounds like something straight out of a cartoon.
Midoriya is walking slightly odd. Hitoshi wonders if he's injured himself today. With the smile on his face, Hitoshi can't tell either way. "Oh, no. I've never ridden one."
Hitoshi exhales through his nose in surprise. At least it's hidden among the other reactions.
"Really?" Uraraka asks, and there's something in her exclamation that makes Hitoshi tense his shoulders on instinct. Midoriya seems to do the same, crossing his arms.
"You never learned?" The blank space next to Hitoshi exclaims. He blinks. Oh. Uh. Hagakure?
"What would you do when the neighborhood kids came around on their bikes?" Mina asks.
Midoriya just looks abashed, turning away from them. His hand goes to cover his mouth. "Ahah, well. It wasn't really a thing for me." He waves his other hand around, becoming a bit frantic.
"Bakugo never bothered you to learn how to bike?" Kirishima jokes, but Bakugo is silent. Midoriya meekly lowers his hand.
Midoriya doesn't say anything. Sensing the awkward mood, Mina starts describing the ribbons she used to have on her old bike, which spurs the topic into the best bike decorations. It takes the attention off Midoriya, but Hitoshi finds himself still watching him.
Midoriya eventually drops the hand from his mouth, but he's not smiling. There's something there, an emotion that drags his eyes and mouth down.
He should look away.
After a couple of minutes, Midoriya turns to talk to Uraraka again. There's something pinched, or strained in Midoriya's expression, something he covers with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. When his eyes skip over to Bakugo, something else flickers across his face. The smile briefly dims.
He should look away before he's caught.
Then Midoriya's eyes drift over towards Kaminari, and he finally has the sense to turn towards Kaminari again.
Later that night, Hitoshi is staring down at his phone. On the fifth time that he's unlocked it and then locked it, he decides to just bite the bullet.
Hitoshi Shinsou | 11:03 pm
What are you doing Sunday?
"Okay," Midoriya declares, after ten minutes. "I think I got this!"
Hitoshi purses his lips, nods, and lets go of the handlebars. Midoriya makes it two feet before wobbling, then lets out a pitiful yelp as he tips over onto the ground. He rolls instinctively, and probably excessively, away from the impact. Hitoshi winces and prays for his bike.
"I'll get it next time!" Midoriya says, pulling himself up. He brushes his knees off, which are only red and slightly scraped. He doesn't seem to mind, but the sight makes Hitoshi bite his lip. Hitoshi should have told him to wear pants. Hitoshi wonders, not for the first time, if it's too early to be doing this.
"I think the seat might be too high," Hitoshi hypothesizes twenty minutes later, as Midoriya picks himself out of a bush. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Kirishima and Bakugo as they leave the dorm. He sighs, brushing a hand through his hair.
"That's a thing?!" Midoriya whines. He's pulling twigs and leaves off his clothes and out of the holes on the helmet. He has elbow and knee pads on now, courtesy of Iida.
"Your poor bones," he deadpans, going to pick up the bike and set the kickstand out. Midoriya stretches, reaching out towards the sky before leaning down. "Yeah. Let me adjust it for you."
"Hey," he says later, squatting down to where Midoriya is lying, a whimpering puddle on the ground. "Stop falling so much. This bike is expensive."
"I'm trying."
"Where's your plus ultra spirit?"
Miodriya pouts at him from under the helmet. He stretches his arms out. "I think it broke. Which levers are the front wheel brakes and which are the back?" He makes a half-hearted swipe at Hitoshi's head.
He dodges it easily. "Left front. Right back."
Midoriya groans and lets his arm drop to the ground. "Thank you."
"Thank me by getting better. What kind of hero can't ride a bike?"
"One who runs," he snipes back. Hitoshi rolls his eyes. Midoriya kicks his legs in the air for emphasis, lifting up on his back as he does it.
Hitoshi snorts, holding a hand out. "That's quitter talk. I bet All Might can ride a bike."
Midoriya grabs it, eyes shining with some sort of smug aura. "Actually—"
"What are you guys doing?" Uraraka asks. Shinsou turns his head. Uraraka, Tsuyu, and Yaoyorozu stand behind him. Yaoyorozu seems to be carrying a large duffle bag, and all of them are in what looks like workout clothes.
"Failing to teach and failing to learn," he says, realizing that he's still holding Midoriya's hand. He stands up, pulling Midoriya up with him, and quickly lets go.
"Hey!" Midoriya squawks. He holds his arms up in an X, showing off his additional padding. "I'm getting there! And you're a great teacher, Shinsou!"
"That's really nice of you, Shinsou," Tsuyu says, hands folded in front of her. Uraraka smiles brightly, shooting two thumbs up. Yaoyorozu gives a polite smile as well, commenting on Hitoshi's kindness to help a fellow student. He averts his gaze, focusing back on the task at hand.
"Midoriya, let's try again," he says. Midoriya puffs up his cheeks.
"Good luck, you two!" Uraraka calls as they leave. Midoriya seems a little distracted from the audience, but quickly gets back into his focused mode, already mounting the bike with a walking start.
After an hour, Hitoshi is watching him bike up and down the path in front of the dorms with some degree of confidence. Midoriya has his cheeks puffed up, utter concentration in place.
"Alright," he says as Midoriya bikes his way back to where Hitoshi stands. He has to give it to Midoriya's determination."How is it?"
"Fun!" Midoriya gives him a wobbly smile as he stops, a leg reaching out to ground him and the bike. "Thank you for offering to teach me, Shinsou." He gets off, the red sneakers catching Hitoshi's eye as he swings his leg over.
Midoriya rolls the bike towards Hitoshi, who takes it by the handles. "It's no problem, " Hitoshi says. Midoriya moves to unbuckle the strap under his chin, pulling the helmet off. His hair looks barely pressed, springing back into its regular form. Hitoshi has to at least run his hands through his hair a couple of times to get it back up.
A particular breeze comes by, rustling the trees and brushing Hitoshi's cheek. The sky is a type of blue that goes white at the edges, with some clouds spread out here and there, like afterthoughts of a paint stroke. For a moment, Hitoshi closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.
"It's so nice today," he hears Midoriya say softly. It really is.
"I'm gonna go into town," he states, opening his eyes. He rubs the back of his neck. "If you want to join."
There's a pause, in which Hitoshi fixes the seat back to its regular height. "But...the two of us, on this?" Midoriya asks, hesitantly.
Hitoshi mounts the bike. He taps where a metal frame would usually hold a basket on the back. "There's room for a passenger," he responds, glancing over at the boy.
Midoriya nods, perking up. "Al— Alright! Sure!" He holds a fist up, looking excited and determined, and Hitoshi wonders if he always gets so excited.
"In that case, you should put that back on," Hitoshi says, gesturing to the helmet.
Midoriya furrows his brows. "Won't you need one?"
"I don't wear it usually, but I brought it out for you," he responds.
Midoriya's face smooths out, with a hint of red. "Ah, I see."
"Anyway, you can either start on or jump on. Jumping on will be easier, though."
"Uh, jump on, then?"
He nods. He bikes slowly, and soon he feels the weight of Midoriya behind him settling. "Easy," he tells Midoriya. He starts to pedal faster. "Put your arms around me."
The bike wobbles, and for a second Hitoshi thinks they're gonna eat shit, but it soon balances out. Arms settle around his waist, and he feels Midoriya lean against his back, exhaling. He wonders if Midoriya's actually ever ridden behind someone before. As Hitoshi starts biking at a regular speed, he feels Midoriya's arm tighten around him.
Today's a lot of firsts, then.
It's a while before they leave campus, and he can guess Midoriya is looking around at the buildings they pass, maybe acknowledging the students they pass, too. Once they get off campus, the trees and neatly trimmed lawns of UA give way to sidewalks and streets.
Even after the run he took this morning, his legs aren't sore at all. Cycling is second nature to Hitoshi; he doesn't really have to think about where he's going, only the motion of moving his legs, the gentle, subtle movements of the handlebars. He doesn't usually cycle with any destination in mind; it's the journey for him. It's the act, not the result, that he's after.
Right now, it's the feeling of flying, of letting go without any real intent. It's also warmth, of two arms wrapped around his waist, of how Midoriya leans his head against Hitoshi's back as they ride. That part's unfamiliar; he hasn't done ridden with someone in years, the only person being his mother, who laughed as Hitoshi tried to bike uphill and only ended up almost toppling them. He knows he's choosing his favorite paths; the ones that aren't as busy, with less noise spilling onto the streets. The sunrays are warming his face, and the breeze keeps him cool. Moving to the dorms was a necessity, but it made doing this rarer and rarer.
He really misses this.
After an indeterminate amount of time, Hitoshi is brought back to Earth by a rumbling noise behind him.
"Do you wanna stop somewhere to eat?"
Midoriya chuckles awkwardly and readjusts his hold. "Sure."
His mind is already navigating the route to a cafe he's particularly fond of. Within ten minutes, they're pulling up in front of a small blue building.
"How bad would it be to eat cake for lunch?" Midoriya asks, eyeing the display counter. Hitoshi steps around another patron to stand beside him, slipping his bike lock key into his jacket pocket.
"There's fruit on top," Hitoshi points out. Each cake is elegantly made, but not so much that it hurts his wallet. They're topped with glossy slices of fruit, looking bright and fresh. He knows for a fact that these cakes are to die for. "Healthy."
Midoriya insists on pulling out his wallet for the both of them, and though Hitoshi protests, he's left carrying two marble sodas and two slices of cakes while Midoriya pays. He decides on a table in the corner of the outside area, under an orange umbrella.
"Did you eat this morning?" Midoriya asks, eyeing him as he takes a seat across him. There's faint music playing from an electronic repair shop next door.
Hitoshi shakes his head. "Cake is food," he points out. "Fruit on top. And I'll eat dinner when we get back."
"It can't be the only thing you eat today."
"You're the one who wanted cake for lunch. Don't go all class pres on me about the necessity of a balanced diet."
"You could've gotten something else, I still would have paid," Midoriya insists. "Isn't that what friends do?" He takes the first bite of his cake, and his eyes involuntarily shutter close, mouth curling into a smile around his fork. "Wow."
Hitoshi grins and just pops his soda, ignoring his earlier words. "Don't enjoy it too much," Hitoshi teases, reveling in the fact that Midoriya looks ridiculous still wearing those pads. At least he took the helmet off. He takes a sip, tasting the sweet pineapple flavor.
He thinks Midoriya is gonna keep talking, but the other boy is just quiet, eating his cake. Hitoshi watches the passing strangers, a couple of dogs who eagerly run ahead of their owners on walks.
"How is that?" Midoriya asks, putting down his fork. His eyes are on the soda in Hitoshi's hand.
"It's good."
Midoriya's eyes move up to Hitoshi's, and he can see amity in them. Midoriya takes a sip out of his melon soda. "Once, I spilled strawberry-flavored water all over my desk in middle school, and now I can't stand the taste or smell of fake strawberry."
"I try to get different flavors each time," Hitoshi reveals, tapping on the bottle.
"What's your verdict so far?"
"Octopus is bad. Takoyaki is surprisingly good. And chili oil isn't as hot as you'd expect."
Midoriya grimaces, nose scrunching up. "Those all sound awful. Where do you even find those?"
Hitoshi shrugs. From there, they talk about menial stuff, from school to movies to how often Hitoshi bikes off-campus. Midoriya asks more about hobbies, Hitoshi shares as much as he's willing to. Eventually, they settle into an easy silence.
"Can I ask you something?" Midoriya says, picking at his cake. There's about half of it left. Hitoshi makes a confirming sound. "Why did you offer to teach me?"
Hitoshi takes a bite of his chocolate cake and mulls it over. His unoccupied hand finds its way to the back of his neck, and he holds it as he stares down at the remains of his cake.
Maybe it's the thought of a little Midoriya, sitting on a stoop in his neighborhood (he imagines Midoriya living in a nice, modest standalone house, with two parents and a dog, probably), watching, with wide sad eyes, as the other kids in his neighborhood ride around without him. It makes him sad, imagining those eyes, left out and left behind. He's probably just projecting.
But still.
"You looked sad when everyone was talking about it."
Midoriya looks like he was expecting the response, and was still surprised that he got it. He doesn't reel back, he doesn't drop his jaw, he just…he looks away.
"Yeah," Midoriya says, scratching his cheek. He stares at his soda. "I guess I was. I...didn't have many friends growing up. And biking was more a group thing for the kids in my neighborhood, so I never really got into it."
For as much as Midoriya seemed to vibrate with life at times, it was almost odd to see him so still. Hitoshi knows Midoriya doesn't bounce with energy every second of the day, even prefers the other boy's quiet moments, but in this moment, he seems so...small. Solemn.
Midoriya continues. "Even if it's a small thing like that. It," his hands close around the bottom of his bottle, close to his chest. "It really shouldn't bother me." He grins, sheepish, embarrassed. It's the same smile Hitoshi saw aimed at Uraraka, that day after training. "It's silly."
Hitoshi frowns. "It's okay if it bothers you," he asserts. The sight of Midoriya shoving this down, acting like it doesn't matter, irks him. Why doesn't it matter? Why try and hide it, all the time? "It doesn't help to bury it down instead of facing how you feel."
"Ah. Yeah." Midoriya averts his eyes, looking over at the street. It's gotten a bit busier since they first arrived, but the cars aren't so noisy, and the rush of life seems to ebb and flow. Hitoshi bites his lip, thinking over what he said.
"I was the same way," Hitoshi admits, in the silence. "though you could've guessed that. Biking was my favorite thing as a kid. Once I learned how to ride a bike, I could go anywhere I want. It clears my head when I need to calm down. And it's easy to do, alone."
It takes a minute, but Midoriya's smile emerges again. It looks different this time. Maybe it's how his eyes settle, or how his eyebrows smooth out. It's subtle. He wonders how someone can have so many different smiles. "Well, then. Thanks. For teaching me."
"Thanks for letting me teach you." Hitoshi picks up his bottle, tipping it back. Unintentionally, he finishes it off. The marble clinks around its chamber, clear and bright.
When he sets it down on the table, he sees Midoriya watching him. "You're a nice guy, Shinsou," Midoriya states, plain as day. His grin widens into its regular self. Proud.
Hitoshi scoffs, leaning back in his chair. "That isn't the first word that comes to mind when people think of me."
"It's true, though," Midoriya insists, leaning forward. "Those people should get to know you better, then."
Before Hitoshi can respond, Midoriya's eyes go wide and his hand slaps over his mouth.
"Ohmygod." Midoriya whispers. "Shinsou, don't turn around."
Hitoshi furrows his brows, already moving to turn. "What—"
"Don't! It'll be too obvious."
He tenses up. He hasn't been attacked by a villain yet since transferring, but around their disaster of a class, the possibility was never zero. "Midoriya, what's going on?" His hand inches towards the phone in his pants pocket.
"Mt. Lady," Midoriya whispers excitedly. "And Kamui Woods. Behind you."
Hitoshi stares at him and then turns around immediately. "Shinsou!" Midoriya hisses.
The outside area of this cafe isn't particularly large, so two tables away from them is a blonde woman with a grey zip up jacket and washed out jeans, sitting opposite a person completely covered, topped with a large, sunken hat. The longer he looks, the more he can sort of see the resemblances.
"Wait," Hitoshi whispers, squinting his eyes. "She doesn't actually have horns?"
Midoriya starts muttering about their team ranking, latest hero-villain fight, such and such. His voice is dazed, awed, the same way Midoriya got when talking about Quirks or hero reports, but more excited. Alive, if that's even possible. Hitoshi turns back around, suddenly aware of the volume of Midoriya's murmurings.
"If you talk any louder, they'll definitely hear you," he warns. He stands up, moving to a chair closer to Midoriya's side of the table. "Here, whisper it to me." Midoriya, with no hesitation, does so.
This way, he can watch the dressed down pro-heroes without turning around. It's easier to focus on Midoriya's ramblings too, the boy leaning into Hitoshi's ear instead of across the table. He's talking about Kamui's documentary about his childhood, which Hitoshi remembers seeing in theatres when it first came out. He starts arguing with Midoriya about some fabricated plot point when Mt. Lady looks over.
Her eyes are narrowed and suspicious, a coffee mug clutched in her hands, and Hitoshi makes sure to look over at Midoriya and smile at whatever he says. Midoriya stops what he's saying to freeze, staring at him. Hitoshi frowns. "Act normal," he whispers. He stabs a fork into Midoriya's cake.
"Hey!" Midoriya goes to stab him, but Hitoshi dodges and shoves it into his mouth.
"Sorry," he says, pulling the fork out from between his lips. He savors the taste of yellow cake and sweet frosting. In retaliation, Midoriya takes a strawberry off of Hitoshi's plate and pops it into his mouth. "I thought you hated those."
"Fake strawberry." Midoriya snags another, and this time Hitoshi almost gets him with his fork. "You need to eat your fruit."
"Says the person eating it all."
Midoriya just laughs, holding a kiwi speared on his fork out to him. Hitoshi doesn't bite, but he smiles a little.
After that, they fall into conversation unrelated to the pro-heroes seated near them. They'd probably appreciate the privacy, Hitoshi thinks.
"Alright!" Kirishima shouts, punching his fists together. "We're gonna win this, for sure!"
"Don't be so cocky," Mina says. She pounds her own fists together, though it's not as impressive as Kirishima's. She puts her own flair to it, though. "My team's pretty lit, if you ask me. We're gonna pummel ya!"
Hitoshi snorts, turning to watch the giant screen where Bakugo and Yaoyorozu stand opposite each other in Replica City. There's an explosion. Hitoshi tracks the flying Satou out of the smoke. "That didn't take long," Jirou remarks, standing next to him. Hitoshi is inclined to agree.
"I hope Uraraka catches him," Midoriya surmises, more to himself. He stands next to Kirishima, though his attention is to the screen. "Though, this could be a strategy on their part."
An idea pops into his head. "Hey, Midoriya."
"Yeah?"
He sinks his claws in. Without looking, Hitoshi says, "Come over here."
He hears Midoriya walk over and settle on his other side. Hitoshi closes his eyes, pleased. "Slap yourself."
There's the sound and then the yelp as Midoriya comes back to life. He thinks he hears Jirou let out a soft surprised sound and turns to look. Midoriya shakes his head a couple of times. "You need to keep your guard up if you're gonna win against us," Hitoshi says, smirking.
"Trash talking won't rattle me, Shinsou," he responds, crossing his arms. "So bring your best."
Hitoshi tilts his head, studying how Midoriya's mouth seems to twitch, wanting to turn upwards. Hitoshi looks at the expression in his eyes, open and at ease. He's not sure why he's going down this rabbit hole, but something about Midoriya's ease makes him open his mouth. "Why don't you hesitate to respond to me?"
He's so nervous, all of a sudden. His palms feel moist. Midoriya seems taken aback, expression falling on the more contemplative end of the scale, and Hitoshi is ready to take it back, to tell him to forget it—
"I trust you," Midoriya says. "I know you wouldn't do anything to hurt me. We all know that."
Hitoshi doesn't respond, looking up at the screen again instead. There's movement, and he catches a glimpse of Yaoyorozu, but he honestly cannot focus on it. That response makes sense, right? He should have expected Midoriya to say something like that, so optimistic and naive and kind. His hand goes to the dial on his mask, double-checking the adjustments. He pulls it up, clicking it in place over the lower half of his face. "Urk."
He feels Midoriya poke his shoulder. "You were the one who said you're gonna be a better hero than all of us," Midoriya states. Hitoshi feels his face grow hot. "I believe you. We're friends." There's a pause, and when Midoriya speaks again, Hitoshi notes the hesitation in his voice. "We're friends, right?"
"Of course," he answers instinctively. He hopes the mask hides the heat spreading on his face.
Midoriya beams so brightly it's supernova and Hitoshi—
"Yo, Shinsou!" Mina calls, slapping a hand on his shoulder. "Let's talk strategy, yeah?"
"We should do the same, man," Kirishima says, to Midoriya.
Midoriya's smile doesn't dim. "Good luck, Siren," Midoriya wishes, stepping away. Hitoshi blinks. Midoriya heads towards the exit, probably to talk in the hallway.
"Alright," he says, a second too late. He feels himself walk alongside Mina, the girl already discussing some plan to counter Kirishima's moveset. He realizes that he's clenching his scarf, twisting it in his hands. He shakes his head, willing himself to focus.
Later, he lands and rolls on the roof of a building and halts on his knees, graceful as a cat. Quietly, he steps to the ledge, looking into an alley where Midoriya ran. The green-haired boy is peering out to where Mina darts around Kirishima on her acid. Hitoshi grins, already drawing a length of capture cloth. He takes a deep breath.
A couple of minutes later, he has Midoriya on the ground, bound and wrapped with his arms pinned to his sides. Midoriya's grimace grows deeper the more he struggles.
His ribs fucking ache, and he'll probably have bruises for days, but nothing can stop the grin hidden under his mask. From the clearing, he hears Mina shout triumphantly, and Kirishima's call out for Midoriya. Midoriya's face grows alarmed. He tries to lean up, only to be pushed back down by Hitoshi's foot against his chest. Hitoshi's hand goes to adjust his mask's dial, twisting around until he knows it's perfect.
"Yield, dumbass," Hitoshi commands, Midoriya's own voice coming out. "So I can swing you around and knock Sharky back to the fucking ocean."
Midoriya, with his cheeks flushed and sweat dripping down his face, huffs out a laugh, eyes closing even in the midst of battle. It's a pure sound, staccato quick and so displaced from the situation that it catches Hitoshi off-guard. In the next second, Midoriya's eyes reach him, firm and set and unwilling to lose, but Hitoshi is stuck on how a laugh like that can exist a second before a powerful, confident grin.
For a second, all Hitoshi feels is calm, just staring at Midoriya. Then his heart goes into overdrive, his mind crashing like a train car. The feeling of falling envelopes his entire being despite his feet firmly on the ground, and he blinks rapidly, trying to get a hold of himself. It's the fighting instinct that Aizawa instilled in him that stops the cloth from slacking in his grip.
When Kirishima calls out again, Hitoshi remembers to push everything down. He answers over Midoriya, feeling his claws sink in when Kirishima takes the bait. He drags Midoriya out of the alley towards where Mina and Kirishima are standing, ignoring the live wires under his skin that spark and send a big fat danger signal over and over to his brain.
He tamps down those sparks, clearing his mind to just finishing up this battle. Mina is waiting. He takes a deep breath, then kneels down to pick up Midoriya.
"Thanks," Midoriya mutters, then moves to try and headbutt him. Hitoshi slaps a hand over Midoriya's face, pushing him back. "Ow!" Midoriya reels back.
Hitoshi stands up again. "Be a good sport," he tells Midoriya, pulling him by the cloth. There's no answer, and when Hitoshi checks over his shoulder, Midoriya is pouting.
Hitoshi feels the flush spread over his face, and he quickly looks away.
Oh no.
Oh no.