Chapter Text
After the class is over, Shouta crawls out of his warm sleeping bag and holds Shinsou back. The teen waits as Midoriya rushes off with a peppy ‘See you in homeroom, Aizawa-sensei!’ and a shy wave at his classmate. Shinsou has spent the last two hours deliberately skirting the line between sulky and bratty, and Shouta is tired. Luckily, Midoriya had evidently decided to ignore his classmate’s derisive attitude and focus on learning, so the kid is in a much better headspace than after their last Foundational Heroics class, so Shouta isn’t too worried about him. His other student, however...
“What do you want, Sensei?” Shinsou sounds bored, but Shouta has years of experience dealing with teenagers and can identify anxiety when he hears it. He gives Shinsou an appraising look, notes the lines of tension in his body, the slightly hunched shoulders.
“It’s nothing bad. I just wanted to make sure that you knew Midoriya-kun is only joining us for Foundational Heroics classes.” At Shouta’s words, the purple haired teen looks incredibly relieved before quickly masking his expression. Shinsou shifts in place, before shooting a cautious glance at Shouta.
“So Mondays are still just us?” And damn if the kid doesn’t sound vulnerable as a newborn kitten. Shouta gets it; he’s the only person aside from Shinsou’s parents and siblings that’s ever shown even an ounce of faith in the kid. It makes sense that he’d feel threatened by Midoriya, sweet as the kid is, and his ‘flashy’ quirk.
“That’s what I said.” Shouta sighs then, because the difficult part of this conversation is yet to come.
But before he can begin his pre-planned speech, Shinsou brings up the topic himself. “I’m glad I won’t have to spend even more time with that hero-brat.” He sounds genuinely relieved, which makes Shouta wince internally. “I don’t get what his deal is. He’s got a heroic quirk, so why the hell is he getting special treatment?”
Alright, that’s enough of that. Shouta can see Shinsou has got a good bit of steam going, and decides to cut the kid off. “This attitude can’t continue,” he says tiredly. Shinsou goes to interrupt but Shouta holds up a hand. “No. Listen to what I’m telling you, as your mentor, and as someone who has been where you are now. You are only hurting yourself in the long run.”
Shinsou has a mulish expression on his face, disbelief etched into every aspect of his bearing. Shouta knows then that this conversation will require a more personal touch. “How would you describe Present Mic’s quirk?”
Shinsou narrows his eyes. “It’s a flashy and perfectly ‘heroic’ quirk.” The boy says. He’s clearly aware that Shouta is leading him into a trap, though, because his expression is one of pure suspicion.
“Most people think that,” Shouta agrees. Then, he drops the bomb. “But did you know that he spent years in a muzzle?” Shinsou’s expression shutters. He clearly doesn’t understand what Shouta is getting at, and he feels awful that he’s having to turn this kid’s worldview upside down so early into their mentorship. But this talk has to happen, so he steels himself and continues. “When Mic was ten, his parents stitched his mouth shut. He had to eat through a straw for years. He still has the scars.”
Shinsou looks like he’s going to be sick, pale hands absently tracing his own barely-visible scars on his cheeks. “I don’t understand,” he admits.
Shouta sighs. He didn’t expect Shinsou to, not yet anyway. “Even people who have so-called ‘heroic’ quirks can suffer for them,” he explains. He’s more patient than he normally would be with a student, because this is important. “Just because someone has a flashy or powerful quirk doesn’t mean that the person themselves has always had power. More heroes than you’d think have been victims of discrimination and abuse.”
“Like who?” Shinsou sounds... not-quite broken, but contemplative. It’s a good step forward, Shouta thinks.
“Miruko, Gang Orca, Thirteen... all of them have powerful quirks and respect now, but it wasn’t always like that.”
Shinsou is quiet for a long moment. Then - “I - I think I need to think about this at home,” the kid says. His eyes are red-rimmed.
“That’s all I’m asking,” Shouta says. “I’m not saying this to belittle your experiences, or what you’ve been through. But quirk discrimination has more than one form, and you’re not the only person who’s ever suffered.“ Shinsou nods quietly. “Have a good weekend, Shinsou-kun. I’ll see you on Monday. Now go get changed.” It’s a gentle dismissal, and the kid looks grateful as he takes the opportunity to flee to the locker room.
Shouta slumps after he’s gone, tucking his face deep into his capture weapon. It’s not even lunchtime but he wants to crawl into bed and hide until Hizashi comes to either drag him out or join him. Unfortunately, Shouta is a teacher and that means he has responsibilities, and unlike certain other individuals he could name, he takes his role very seriously.
All of that just means Shouta drags himself through the next two classes - 3A and 2A Hero Ethics and Law, which are both filled with tearful children as expected. He glares at his 2A students and puts the fear of him expulsion back into them. And then it’s lunch, and Shouta can’t even take a nap because he needs to find Shuzenji and have a talk.
He desperately wishes Hizashi could come with, but alas, his wonderful husband is busy cozying up with Nedzu and plotting about All Might. Shouta is only a little jealous.
So, Shouta stalks down to the infirmary, slurping a jelly packet just because he knows it always riles Shuzenji up. She’s old and set in her ways and firmly believes that no matter how nutritious, they don’t constitute food. Shouta, who hasn’t died from malnutrition yet, begs to differ. He’s not above being petty, even if he doesn’t have the full story yet. It it also a comfort food after his world got flipped upside down by the problem child? Absolutely.
When Shouta strolls into the Recovery Girl’s office only a few minutes after the first lunch bell, Shuzenji is busy remaking a bed. From the timing, and the exasperated look he gets, it seems All Might’s Foundational Heroics class has sent another of his students to the infirmary. He’ll have to check up on who it was later.
“We need to talk,” Shouta informs Shuzenji, making sure he leaves no room for disagreement. At his harsh tone, Shuzenji raises an eyebrow. Normally Shouta is one of the most respectful teachers, so he’s not surprised by that reaction.
“Of course, Shouta-kun.” Shuzenji immediately steps into her private office, leaving the bed half-made. Good. She’s picked up that Shouta is here on business. She hops into her office chair and waves him into the visitor chair. Shouta considers for a moment, and then sits carefully. He pins Shuzenji with a flat look only once he’s settled.
“So,” he says tonelessly, “can you please explain to me why you informed one of my students that you will no longer be healing his injuries?”
After he’s asked his question, Shouta observes the old woman carefully. She barely twitches at his words, but a tired frown is now pulling her mouth down. Shuzenji is looking her age, he thinks. She’s silent for a long moment, but Shouta is patient.
“That comment,” she says eventually, “was directed at All Might, not Midoriya-kun.”
Shouta can’t help the hiss he lets out. “But you did say it.”
Shuzenji frowns deeper, meeting Shouta’s gaze levelly. “Yes, I did. It’s unsustainable for me to continue to heal Midoriya-kun’s injuries instead of him learning how to actually use his quirk.”
Shouta has to remind himself to breathe. He gives himself a few moments of breathing exercises in an attempt to quell the anger rising from his bones. Time for a new approach. He hasn’t forgotten the way she’d harboured Yagi the other day and that she’s fully aware of One For All.
“Shuzenji-san,” he says, and despite his best efforts his words are clipped with anger, “I know that you are aware of the nature of Midoriya-kun’s quirk.”
“I am,” Shuzenji confirms. She looks a little hurt at his use of an honorific he hasn’t bothered with for years.
“And you are aware that Midoriya-kun only received this quirk on the morning of the Entrance Exam.”
“That is correct.”
“So why,” Shouta pinches the bridge of his nose, “did you tell a child who has barely had his quirk for three months that you won’t help him?”
The Youthful Heroine is unimpressed. “It’s worked, hasn’t it? Midoriya-kun hasn’t broken any bones and he’s had two heroics classes since then.”
“Actually,” Shouta says, “Midoriya-kun shattered his wrist on Wednesday by accident. And then he left the school and checked himself into a public hospital where he didn’t receive treatment for ten hours because he thought he couldn’t come to you.” Shuzenji is pale now, to Shouta’s grim satisfaction. But he’s not done. “So I’ll ask you again, Recovery Girl, why did you tell one of my students that he can longer be healed by you?”
The old woman dips her head. “I.. he what?”
Shouta is out of sympathy. “You heard me.” He doesn’t give her a moment to recover. “Oh, and I will be reporting this to the Medical Association after I talk with Nedzu.”
Shuzenji nods, a tiny thing on the tiny woman. Shouta, who had begun leaning forward while he was talking, reclines lazily against the back of the chair and looks up at the ceiling. Unfortunately, it doesn’t hold any answers for him so he looks back at the woman in front of him.
“Walk me through your reasoning.” It’s not a request.
“I had hoped that Yagi would begin taking the boy’s training more seriously. That he would - help Midoriya-kun with One For All.” Shuzenji sounds every bit her age. Shouta can understand her frustration with Yagi - he feels it himself, but still. “I never intended to turn Midoriya-kun away if he did get injured.”
“He’s a child,” Shouta repeats. “And you are someone in a considerable position of power over him. Of course he took you at your word.”
Shuzenji just closes her eyes, and tips forward slightly, hunching in on herself. “There is no way I can make this right.”
“No,” Shouta agrees. “I expect you will comply with whatever... sanctions Nedzu sees fit to implement.” It’s an unsubtle warning to the heroine who, for all her kind and generous reputation, has never worked well with other medical professionals.
Shuzenji just nods. Shouta gets to his feet and rolls his shoulders as the warning bell for the end of lunch sounds. He looks at the old woman, expression blank. “Next time you have an issue with All Might,” he says, and turns to leave, “make sure a child isn’t caught in the crossfire.”