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Shouta was a careful person, to the point that it was alarming. He hid the scars and newest additions to his skin well, never daring to roll up his sleeves, heavily relying on long pants to hide the damage to his legs, or wearing thinner sweaters when the heat of summer rolled around. He'd been doing this for years, anyways. He knew damn well how to hide, and he avoided attention like it was his job. More than once, he'd been told by a professor to consider being an undercover cop, or work for the American FBI.
But he always said "no, thank you, my English is terrible anyways." He wanted to be the hidden hero, the one who provided rescue and received nothing for it. Since he was a child, he'd paid attention to the news stories, where once invincible heroes fell at the feet of the media, often for doing something no worse than smoking a joint, or drinking too much, or having a girlfriend who wasn't drop dead gorgeous. Some had been so careless that villains took their families, and for that reason, he refused to ever let his identity be known outside his few peers.
Among those peers was the boy whom everybody loved- the loud, funny kid who always looked like he belonged on a stage in New York City and not at this expensive, weird school in Japan. How they had become friends was still a mystery to them both, but neither ever questioned it. They never needed to. They balanced each other out-Shouta kept Hizashi out of trouble, and Hizashi made sure Shouta went outside once in a while.
On the day of interest, third period was wrapping up. Shouta, as usual, sat in the front, a rare seat for such a private and quiet student. But he was so full of respect and admiration for his favorite teacher that he didn't care if sitting so close ruined whatever dumb edgy-kid reputation he probably had. She was just like him: logical, stern, to the point. No nonsense. She was one of the few UA professors who possessed no quirk. Instead, she was a master negotiator, and had been for the last thirty years. Her skills in her field had talked down hundreds of villains, from the heavy hitters, to the lost souls who felt so out of place they did something drastic. She demanded to be called her Hero name: Negotiation-Sensei.
In his pocket, Shouta's outdated, slowly dying phone vibrated. A text message, maybe a voicemail. He ignored it stoically. Negotiation-Sensei heard it, and was impressed to see he wasn't even paying attention to it as he took notes. In the back, however, she caught Hizashi sending the messages from his bright pink flip phone. Without any warning, she swept to the back of the classroom, swiped it from his hands, and read the rushed message quietly.
'wanna ditch 4th& go 2arcade'
"Mr. Yamada," she said dryly, "I appreciate that you have no intention of ditching my class. However, to be seen with your phone out, on my time, is unacceptable. We can have one of two things happen here. You can leave this room, right now, with a broken phone, or you can stay, and lose it for the day, wherein it shall be returned to you intact. These are your only choices."
The entire room was silent, waiting to see which choice Hizashi chose. They knew he could afford to lose a phone, it happened more than it should. But he sighed and groaned,
"Sorry, Sensei. I'll stay. Keep it, I'll pick it up at the end of your final class."
"A wise choice," Negotiaton-Sensei said. "I shall see you at 5:30, then."
She walked back to her desk, and placed the phone in what was known as the Hostage Basket, where many phones and portable games had found themselves trapped until the clock paid their ransom.
Class ended forty minutes later, being one of the shorter classes at UA. Shouta placed his books in his bag, and waited for Hizashi, who was already thinking of ways to negotiate with the master negotiator. All it took was one fierce look from her to make him give up before even trying, and he joined his best friend at the door.
"See you in a few hours," he said to her with a grin. "Feel free to text some hot girls for me, maybe use your negotiation powers to set me up on a date?"
"In your wildest dreams," Negotiator-Sensei said, rolling her eyes. "Besides, I already have a beautiful lady to go home to today."
Shouta couldn't help but smile as she quickly pulled a photo from her drawer and showed them a picture of her and her wife on vacation in Germany. Negotiation-Sensei watched as her star student, who was, unbeknownst to him, being considered for a coveted student tutor position at the school, dragged his stunned friend out of her room towards the cafeteria for lunch. She shook her head, always amused by the looks her students made when they learned her girlfriend skills were killer.
Down the hall, not quite out of her earshot, Hizashi went full cartoon and shook his head to get the shock out, then said loudly,
"That woman is a surprise, you know? Like, she's scary and all, but then like, she's also really groovy."
"What is 'groovy'?" Shouta asked.
"Oh, right. Uh. It's means like, cool. My grandparents used to say it, and my parents still say it. Back when they were all a bunch of pothead hippies living in Oregon. When my mom met my dad during her first trip to Niigata, she got him to say it too. So, here I am. Sharing the groovy with you. Let's use it here!"
"No, thanks. There's enough of that dumb meme-meme shit flying around right now anyways. Let's just get some food. I heard that Lunch Rush made Indian food today, and I've always wanted to try it. Apparently there's a lot of vegetarian recipes."
Hizashi laughed and clapped his friend on the back. "Dude, I grew up eating that stuff in Portland. You are about to fall in love and get fat 'cuz Indian food is where it's at!"
Shouta rolled his eyes, unaware that had Hizashi made the statement in English, it would have rhymed, which would have made his eye roll even stronger. They hurried to the cafeteria, grabbed what they could, and started to eat. Shouta was careful to only take the vegetarian fare, and was pleasantly surprised to see that most of the food presented was in fact safe for his consumption.
The bell rang an hour later. Shouta was, as his friend had said, truly in love and he quickly ran to the lunch line to beg for a box of anything that was vegetarian and three potato samosas to take to his room. Such a request was often denied by the lunch staff. But Shouta promised to tell no one, and begged extra hard, telling them his family was too poor to even consider Indian restaurants, that they gave it to him with a quick promise to make more lunches this varied in the future. He bowed a million times, offering his thanks before being shooed away, his plastic box tucked under his arm.
Hizashi laughed when he caught sight of the contraband, and said, "Holy shit, dude. You like, actually did it! You're a hero!"
"Shhh!" Shouta looked around cautiously. "Come on, let's go hide this in your mini fridge before class starts. I'll get in trouble for stealing if I'm seen with this. We have eight minutes before the second class bell rings."
The boys darted away to Hizashi's dorm, slowing down suspiciously every time they ran into a classmate. When they reached Hizashi's room, Shouta shoved the illegal food into the fridge, already packed with soda, mochi, and some weird American snacks Hizashi's dad liked to send.
"What is 'Butta Finga'?" he asked as he examined a yellow wrapped candy bar.
"Dude, you've never had a Butterfinger? Shit. We are so going to America when we graduate. You're missing out, 'cause Japanese chocolate kinda sucks."
"It does?"
"Yeah, dude. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news. Ever had Godiva? Or Lindt?"
"They sound expensive, so no. Even if it were here, still a no."
"You know, I think they are in Japan. Next time we go to the mall, I'll see if I can find Lindt for you."
"No, thanks. Don't waste your money on me. Come on, we need to go to class." Hizashi rolled his eyes, but he complied, knowing his friend would be angry if he made him late for a class. As Hizashi locked his door, Shouta suddenly groaned. "I forgot my books for next period."
"Well let's go get them. We still have three minutes."
"I know. But I hate being late."
"Dude, Sho-Sho. It's fine. I'm always late, and I'm not expelled. You are never late. We can blame it on me if Spyder-Hero-Sensei gets upset. Besides, his class is boring. We won't be missing much."
"Um. Okay. Okay. Come on, let's go. My room is on the other side, remember."
He kicked into high gear, racing down the hallway to grab the books. Hizashi skipped along, absolutely not worried for a minute about being late. He reached Shouta's room, which was a strong contrast to his own: clean, sparse, and almost empty. He reminded himself (again and again) that Shouta's family was quite poor, and that the kid was only here thanks to a very hard-earned scholarship from the Government's Heroics Department.
While Shouta was having trouble locating one of the books, lost under all of his non-existent stuff, Hizashi looked around aimlessly until a pretty orange tin sitting on the desk caught his attention. The tin was the kind one received during the moon festival, where pretty mochi cakes were stored. It must have been fairly old-the orange coloring was scratching off, revealing the silver aluminum beneath. When he picked it up, something metal shifted and gently clanged. It definitely wasn't mochi.
Curious that his dark, moody friend would own anything in such a bright color, Hizashi pried off the tin's lid, and gasped audibly when he saw the sharp objects contained within. Shouta looked up sharply from his crouched search under his bed. His eyes zeroed in on his friend, and grew wide in what Hizashi assumed was fear, anger, or some combination of the two. Before he knew it, Shouta was across the room, and snatched the orange tin from Hizashi's hands. He started to stammer and growl.
"This...you...this isn't....why are you...why?"
Never before had Hizashi seen his brilliant, quiet friend so heated up, so afraid. He held his hands up, for a reason he wasn't sure of, and said,
"Whoa. Okay, Sho-Sho. Calm down. Let's...can we talk about this?"
"There's...there's nothing to t-talk about," Shouta stuttered as he shakily wrestled with pressing the top back on the box. He was suddenly a different person.
Hizashi shook his head and frowned. "You have a box of blades and bandages in your room, Shouta. That's not exactly on the list of required materials here. Are you hurting yourself?"
"We need to go to class," Shouta growled between gritted teeth. "Let's go. We're late."
Hizashi wasn't going to let his best friend just walk away. He reached out and snatched Shouta's arm, then pulled him back to him.
"Please, wait," he pleaded. "Let me see. You're my best friend, I have to know so I can help you."
He was surprised by Shouta's strength as he pulled his arm out of his grip and ran for the door. Hizashi had no choice but to make a serious and suspension-worthy move: he took a deep breath, and doing his best to control the volume so as not to hurt his friend's ears, shouted at the door. The floor beneath Shouta's feet vibrated, knocking him down. He dropped the tin, and the small metal contents within clattered sharply. Hizashi raced over, grabbed the tin, slammed and locked the door, then blocked it with his body, slightly prepared to restrain his friend if the situation demanded it.
"We are talking about this, right now, man," he said, unable to hide the shaking in his voice.
Shouta rose to his feet, eyes wide. "You could be suspended for doing that," he gasped. "Why would you do something so fucking stupid?"
"Why are you cutting yourself? That's way more important than getting in trouble. I don't want to be your enemy, dude. Please, just show me. Talk to me."
"Give me that box."
"No way. This is hurting you. Please, Sho-Sho. Just show me."
Shouta huddled into himself. He shook, and kept his arms tightly trapped against his chest. "I can't. It's...it's...you can't see this. No."
"Why do you do it?"
"I don't want to talk about this."
"Too bad. I'm not letting you out until we talk it out."
"Hizashi, stop it. You're being a fucking jerk."
Hizashi frowned. His hands clenched, and his heart pounded. But he knew his stubborn friend wasn't going to just start talking. Not to him, anyway. So he thought about what Negotiation-Sensei would do.
"Okay, okay," he said, trying to stay calm. "I get it, you don't want to talk. I....I violated your privacy and, like, saw something I never should have seen. I'm sorry. I really, truly am sorry, Shouta. And I promise I won't bother you about it anymore, but please just show me. For...for peace of mind."
Shouta mulled it over, shaking nervously. He knew what Hizashi was doing, of course he did. But he knew he was stuck. If he wasn't bound by the rules of the school, he would have used his quirk to get past Hizashi and run as far from him as he could. But he wasn't going to risk his scholarship. So he bit his lower lip, tried to think of nothing at all, and trembling like an earthquake, reluctant as a child, pushed his sleeves up to reveal his secret.
There were hundreds of thin, surface deep cuts running from his shoulders down to an inch before his palms. Hizashi, almost too quickly, grabbed a wrist and inspected it, shocked that anyone would do this to themselves, let alone his own best friend. He searched frantically for signs of a suicide attempt, but he wasn't even really sure how to see one.
"It's not a suicide thing," he heard Shouta say, his voice distant and almost dizzying. "If it was suicide, there'd be long ones running up my arms. But there aren't. It's okay. I'm okay."
"You're not okay," Hizashi choked. "I think....I think we should go see Recovery Girl."
"No. You said you'd drop it if I showed you. I want to go to class. NOW." Shouta's voice cracked as he hissed at his best friend, but he held his ground until Hizashi let go of his wrist. Shouta quickly pulled his sleeves down, then snatched the tin from Hizashi's hands. He pushed past his friend, holding the tin tightly to his chest. He didn't even care about retrieving his books anymore. All he wanted was to avoid Hizashi.
Hizashi stood in Shouta's empty room for longer than he should have. He felt sick. He felt like he needed to talk to an adult, to maybe get someone else to talk to Shouta. He also knew it might mark the end of their friendship. But maybe it was worth it. Maybe speaking out was the best course of action. He didn't know. He was only sixteen, he wasn't supposed to know what to do.
Hizashi finally left the room, determined to do the scariest thing he would ever have to do: be a hero for someone who didn't want one.
----
Fourth period was almost over by the time the boys reached their room. Their teacher, Spyder-Hero-Sensei, held them both late to demand an explanation, and to give them extra homework as punishment. Both accepted their fate quietly. Spyder-Hero-Sensei found their self-accountability noble, but strange. Clearly they had just had a falling out of some kind, but like many teachers who wished to be removed from the affairs of students, he said nothing and sent them on their way.
Fifth period sent them to different classrooms. Hizashi tried to make gentle, non-intrusive conversation with Shouta, who simply pushed past him and walked to his class with a stony look on his face. Hizashi couldn't help but watch his friend walk away without even a 'see ya later'.
Hizashi forced himself to walk to his class, Hero History in Asia, taught by another quirkless but brilliant teacher called Aki-Sensei. He fought the urge to just race to his friend and grab him by the shoulders and beg forgiveness. But he was already in deep water with Aki-Sensei, and she had promised to give him a failing grade if he was late one more time.
His class was two doors away from Negotiation-Sensei's room, and he knew she would be there till 5:30, when he would retrieve his phone. Twenty minutes into Hero History in Asia, he raised his hand and asked for permission to use the bathroom. His teacher barely allowed it, but he made his best 'it's an emergency!' face, and so she let him go.
He left the room in a hurry, going in the opposite direction of the boys bathroom, and went straight to Negotiation-Sensei's room. Her door was closed, but he knocked, not caring if she had a class in session. She answered it in fifteen seconds, and he held his breath the entire time he waited.
Thirty students occupied her room, the lights were off, and a projection on the wall told him they were getting ready for an exam. But he gulped, took a deep breath, and said, "Sensei, when I retrieve my phone from you, do you have time to talk? I think I have an emergency."
Negotiation-Sensei went from slightly annoyed to quite alarmed. "Are you okay?" she asked, placing both hands on his shoulders. "Do you need me right now?"
"No, it's...I can't talk about it with people here. Just...can you stay later than usual? It's really important."
"Yes, of course. But are you sure you don't want to talk now? Or should I call another teacher to-"
"No, no it has to be you. You know how to do the negotiation thing, and I really need that skill right now. It's..." His voice dropped low, so low it surprised them both. "It's about Shouta. He doesn't know I'm here, but it's an emergency involving him. Please, you're the only person who can help."
The very mention of her (secretly favorite) student made Negotiation-Sensei's heart skip a beat. An emergency? The look in Hizashi's eyes halted any further questions she had. Hizashi had asked for her help, and her help alone. She had to respect that. She squeezed his shoulders and said quietly,
"I will absolutely stay and talk with you today. Come after class, okay? I'll see you then." She let him go, and closed the door to resume her class. Hizashi returned to his class, where Aki-Sensei joked that if he had needed to use the bathroom, it was still in the opposite direction than he had gone.
"Sure hope the hallway isn't a mess," she laughed.
Hizashi tried to forced a laugh of his own as he said, "Yeah. Watch yourself, you might slip and fall."
He couldn't even bring himself to smile when the class gave a collective "ewwwww" that could be heard down the hallway.
---
Most of the time, class took forever to end. In this case, Hizashi was sure at least ten years had gone by, and he automatically touched his chin to see if he had grown a full blown beard. It was a funny thing he would do to communicate to Shouta that 'this is taking foreverrrrrrrrrrrrr', but without Shouta here, he caught himself and put his hand down.
The bell finally rang, signaling the end of class. There was only one class block left for the day, and Hizashi didn't have anything to go to, but he knew Shouta did. He quickly gathered his bag and books, and hightailed it anxiously to Negotiation-Sensei's room without having to worry about bumping into him.
The lights were back on, and she was storing away bits and pieces of the projector while her students filed out of the room. One stayed for an extra ten minutes to ask her a few questions, which she answered patiently while Hizashi sat at a desk and waited.
When the student left, Negotiation-Sensei closed the door, and invited him to pull up a chair at her desk, then handed his pink phone to him. She had no intention of letting him speak to her across the room, or of holding his phone hostage any further, especially when he seemed to be already very distressed.
"So," she began, calmly and without any anger from the morning's earlier disruption, "what's going on?"
Suddenly, he felt like he had nothing to say. There was a hard lump in my throat, in his chest, and he felt like maybe this was the wrong thing to do. Negotiation-Sensei watched his face go through a wide array of emotions, and saw he was struggling. She took control.
"You said it was about Shouta. Did you two have an argument, or did he say something that alarmed you? In this moment, could you say he is safe?"
'This is helping', he thought as he listened. 'I can't believe this actually helps.'
"N-no," he managed to spit out. "I'm sorry, I just feel really nervous suddenly. I don't know why."
Negotiation-Sensei nodded. She said, "It's because you probably had all day to think about it, and now you're here, you're rethinking your decision. It's very hard to suddenly do what you said you would do, especially when it comes to talking about a problem. It happens to everyone. You're taking responsibility for something, and you are probably afraid that there will be consequences."
"Wow. That's....yeah."
"Yep. So...my question was-"
"No. No, he isn't safe. At all." With the new knowledge of the psychology behind his anxious nerves, Hizashi suddenly spilled open, no longer afraid to say it out loud. The words came out fast and loud and almost jumbled, and he was sure his American accent was mudding up his words, but Negotiation-Sensei didn't seem to notice.
"We went to my room to drop something off and then, he like, remembered he needed a book for class, so we went to his room, and I was being nosy and stupid and like, I saw this orange tin on a shelf and I opened it up and there were a bunch of...not razor blades but like. The kind you use to scrape paint off windows? Yeah, those. And he had a bunch of them, and a box of bandages too, and like, he got really mad and grabbed the tin from me and I wouldn't let him leave his room until he showed me his arms, and....and they're a goddamn mess, Sensei. He has these cuts all over his arms and I'm mad that I never noticed before and that he never asked for help and...and..."
He started to cry. He lowered his head into his hands and just bawled like a child. Negotiation-Sensei frowned, and stood up from her chair, walked around the desk and wrapped her arms around her student.
"Thank you for telling me this," she said gently. "I know this is a very hard situation for both him and you. Now listen. By law, I have to report this to the headmaster. Tomorrow, hopefully you, Headmaster, Shouta, and myself will meet to discuss the issues that seem to be bothering him, and to figure a course of action. I know this is very scary stuff. Are you going to be okay?"
Hizashi wasn't sure. "What if he hates me after this?"
Negotiation-Sensei nodded. "This is a very real possibility. See it like this: you could have stayed quiet, and kept his secret. One day, he doesn't come to class. You go to his room later to find him bled out on his bed, by his own doing. You lose your friend forever, without having a chance to help or say goodbye." Hizashi's eyes welled up again as he imagined the heart-crushing scenario.
Negotiation-Sensei continued. "Or, you tell me, we get him help. He doesn't speak to you ever again, but at least he still walks to class, alive. He is required to speak to a therapist once a week, check in with a physical each week to see progress or damage, and one day, maybe he calls you up to thank you for saving him."
"That sounds too ideal," Hizashi mumbled. "I know him. He holds grudges."
Negotiation-Sensei held up both hands and weighed the two options like a scale. "Grudge, or suicide?"
"He said it wasn't a suicide thing. But I don't...I don't know what that means? Like, how is it not a suicide thing?"
Negotiation-Sensei nodded solemnly. "Let me tell you about that, since I know it can be confusing. As a pro negotiator, I've had my fair share of suicidal people to talk off the edge. A lot of them don't really want to end their lives, it's just the only option they see available to them. Many of them practice self-harm, the term we use for what Shouta is doing. The thing about it is that, people who self-harm, or in this case, cut themselves, don't want to die. Cutting is a way to relieve stress, anger, fear. Or a combination of those three, or maybe even something else. We don't know why he's doing it yet, but we will."
Hizashi wiped his eyes. "O-okay. It sounds....I still don't understand but okay. Do you really think we can help him?"
"Yes. And Hizashi, remember, even if he doesn't want to be your friend after this, you did the right thing. Being a hero isn't always glamorous and fun. It can hurt, too. You will meet people who are ungrateful and unwilling to receive your help. It's going to happen more than you think. But I want to make sure you know that you did the right thing today, even if it feels wrong."
His whole body shook. "I...I definitely feel wrong. He's going to hate me forever."
"And if he does, is it the end of the world?"
"To me, yeah. He's the first real friend I made since coming to Japan. Like real, real friend. We spent a lot of nights sneaking out and looking at stars and talking about seeing the world...he wants to see America. He can't speak English for shit, but he doesn't care. I told him we would see New York City, and cheer on the Sox in Boston, and go find cowboys in Texas, and visit NASA in Florida...we can't do that anymore."
"Hizashi, I think you should be reminded that you are in high school. Some of these friendships will last, but honestly, they usually don't. Bear that in mind. You two may have had a falling out in the future for all we know."
"Can we just focus on helping him right now? Please? I'm already upset, and I don't even know if he's going to even last till tomorrow! What if he tries to kill himself tonight?"
They both froze as the door suddenly clicked open. They turned their heads to face the newcomer, and Hizashi felt his stomach crash into his feet. Negotiation-Sensei, on the other hand, smiled gently and greeted,
"Hi, Shouta. Are you okay?"
Shouta pointed accusingly at Hizashi and demanded,
"Why...why is he here still? It's almost 6:30. You should have retrieved your phone and left an hour ago."
Hizashi started to wring his hands nervously, and though he wanted to say something, anything, the words refused to leave his throat. Negotiation-Sensei stood up, and though he jumped just a little, Shouta didn't run. "It...it's time for dinner," he continued shakily. "You weren't in the cafeteria. So I knew where I would find you, and I know...I know what you're doing."
"Shouta, love, come sit down with us. Let's talk." Negotiation-Sensei's voice was calm, devoid of judgement. "I know you must be scared right now. It's okay, this is a tough conversation for us all. I'm not going to call a psyche ward and have you taken away. That's not the right way to deal with this issue, and it would do you no good. I would be very grateful to hear you speak in your own words." When he didn't budge, she added, "Love, if you run, I will have to call the police. Possibly a pro hero squad if I feel you're a potential danger to yourself. I would have to call your parents as well."
That did it. Shouta's body tensed up, but he accepted his fate. He hung his head, closed the door, and pulled up a chair, though he tried to maintain distance between himself and Hizashi, who continued to wring his hands.
The silence hung in the air unbearably. Neither of the boys wanted to speak. Negotiation-Sensei started the conversation.
"Shouta, Hizashi is here because he needed to tell me about something he found and saw in your room that alarmed him. He is afraid for your safety, and only wants to help you."
"I'm not in any danger," Shouta mumbled. "I'm fine, I told you that."
Hizashi's voice suddenly found its way out of his clenched throat. "No, you aren't fine. You are covered in cuts, dude. That's not norm-" He caught himself, realizing quickly how offended Shouta would be if he said the word. "That-that's not something you should be doing."
Negotiation-Sensei felt her lips twitch into a faint smile as he tried to apply his negotiation skills. Perhaps he had been learning something from her class after all.
"You never once told me you were depressed, or asked for help. And this...this means you must have cut yourself so many times after hanging out with me! Is this my fault? Do I make you sad?"
Shouta's face went deathly pale, and he expressed real emotion for the first time in years. "No! This isn't...no, it's not you. I swear. I just have a lot of stuff going on. It's a...a tool? It helps me calm down. I don't know how to explain it!"
"Then just say whatever, dude. Like, I can't understand if you don't tell me."
Shouta clenched his fists and glared at what must have seemed like a very offensive part of the desk, and forced himself to mutter, "I do it because I have to."
Hizashi honestly couldn't even stop himself from flatly repeating, "You have to."
Shouta started to pick at his skin, reaching under his sleeves to blindly hunt for half-healed scabs. Negotiation-Sensei's breath hitched as she witnessed the behavior herself, but she kept her lips sealed to allow Shouta the space he needed.
His words became anxious, his voice reached a higher pitch he never let himself use outside his parents house. "Yes! I...I'll go fucking insane if I don't do it, Hizashi. I think and think and I get so tired from thinking that I feel sick. And I have to think because I need to keep my grades up, because I got a very rare scholarship to come here and it means I don't have to be at home, and my dad isn't around to beat the shit out of me whenever he drinks, and my mom isn't here to slam my head into the walls when she thinks I'm not doing my best in school and I just really love being here because I'm safe and I have you to distract me and I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"
Shouta burst into tears and sobbed loudly, louder than any student Negotiation-Sensei had ever heard. Hizashi rose to his feet to make an attempt to console him, but she held up a hand to indicate that this needed to happen. Shouta never showed emotion, ever. He was always a walking stone child, devoid of the wonder and joy the rest of UA happily displayed. Now, she finally knew why.
Shouta's sobbing lasted for a surprising fifteen minutes. He tried to let up twice, and failed both times. His face was growing redder by the minute, and his sleeves were soaked from wiping tears away. Negotiation-Sensei finally rose from her seat, and walked over to her student, then gingerly wrapped her arms around him and whispered, "I am so proud of you for sharing this with us. I know it's hard to talk about these things, and I know you are terrified of what's going to happen next. This is a tremendous breakthrough, do you know that?"
He didn't respond, how could he? He continued to cry into her shoulder, not yet showing signs of calming down. The hug lasted minutes, longer than Shouta was used to. He didn't often receive hugs. He received hits, and a lot of them at once. To have someone he admired and respected give him the one thing he never could have wished for meant the world to him.
When she finally let go to allow him space, he grabbed her hands and began to apologize profusely between raspy sobs. "Thank you. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Sensei. I don't mean to bring this kind of trouble to you. This should never have been brought to your attention."
Negotiation-Sensei pulled her hands from his and cupped his face in them, using her thumbs to wipe away a few tears. "Now you listen to me," she said gently, "I am very glad this was brought to my attention. This is so important, my friend. It's important that you open up to someone, and I'm honored that it was me. And I think Hizashi may feel the same way. You are just as important as anyone else attending school at UA, and you are going to get the help you deserve."
"But...but what if the school wants to expel me? What if they don't want a fucked up mess like me here?"
"Shouta, if this school tries to expel you, I will quit my job. I would refuse to work for any business that looks at only one piece of a child and is blind to the rest of their puzzle. You have excellent grades, you are brilliant, you have an amazing quirk, and you have been considered as a student tutor. I wasn't supposed to tell you that until after the holiday break, but the headmaster and I were discussing it months ago. No one is going to expel you, or throw you away. You are not garbage. You are a young person who just needs extra support."
He wiped his tired, wet eyes and sniffled. He hadn't felt like such a child since he was six, when he violently learned from his parents that he was an unlovable kid with a stupid, useless quirk.
"I don't understand anything," he said, pushing back the memory of his own father trying to smack the quirk out of him. "How-how is it my own parents don't love me, and don't care what happens to me? Why is it my teacher who cares? I don't...I don't know what this supposed to mean! It's not...it's so illogical!" His mind jumped back to years of watching Star Trek in subtitled Japanese, and how he had always resonated with Spock, confused and perplexed by the emotion of man. "Heroes aren't supposed to get caught up in the lives of their public! But...but why? Why do you care?"
It wasn't an accusatory question. It wasn't angry. It was simply confused and begging for an answer. Negotiation-Sensei's eyebrows furrowed together as she thought about the answer. She gently took his trembling hand to calm him.
"When I was in my twenties, I started out as a volunteer for a suicide crisis line in Tokyo to practice my abilities. I took hundreds of calls a week. It was overwhelming and so sad, but I did my best to help people. Some of them found a reason to at least stay alive another day, and others let me know they were already bleeding out and just wanted someone to know why. They would hang up, and I knew I had lost them. Many of them were your age, just children. It broke my heart."
"Have you ever called one of these suicide centers?"
Negotiation-Sensei and Shouta both turned to look at Hizashi, whose eyes were red, and cheeks wet. He was staring directly at Shouta. Shouta sniffled and wiped his eyes with his free hand, then nodded.
"So you've thought about committing suicide?"
Shouta was slow to respond. "Um. I...Um. Y-yes." He suddenly panicked as Hizashi's eyes widened. "But not recently! Before I got my scholarship here. Hizashi. Please, it was before I came here. Before we met. I've gotten better."
"I think this is a conversation Shouta and I will have in private," Negotiation-Sensei interrupted. "Hizashi, you have been a tremendous help. Thank you for bringing this to my attention, and for listening to Shouta. I think he and I need some privacy to continue our conversation."
"But...are you sure? Is he gonna be okay?"
"Yes. I promise, he will be safe."
Neither Hizashi nor Shouta said anything, but they gave each other nervous, awkward looks as Hizashi silently gathered his book bag. He gingerly squeezed Shouta's shoulder as he left the classroom, then walked out, carefully closing the door behind him.
Without his friend in the room, Shouta suddenly felt very small and exposed. He had a feeling he knew what his teacher would ask of him. He was right.
"Shouta, " she said quietly, "I'm sorry, but I have to ask. Please let me see your arms."
He immediately wrapped his arms around himself and hunched over. "Please don't do this," he begged. "I don't want you to see this. It's...I'm sorry, but I won't."
"Shouta, at some point, you are going to have to show me and Principal Nedzu. I know it's scary, and it's uncomfortable. And to be very honest, Recovery Girl is definitely going to see them, and I think it would be wise for me to know beforehand. She will assume that you have more secrets that you are hiding, and I may not be able to help you."
He shivered as the thought of every inch of naked skin being catalogued ran through his mind. He didn't know what to expect.
His voice became a whisper. "Are you gonna tell my parents? Are you gonna send me home?"
"That's the hard part," Negotiation-Sensei said. "Usually that is the case. But if we can prove that you come from an abusive home, we may be able to keep you here. But yes, my friend. I will have to report to your parents."
"Then there is nothing to see." Shouta stood up quickly. He started to head for the door, silently scolding himself for walking away from someone who only wanted to help. He made it out to the hallway, trying hard to ignore the fearful sirens going off in his head, telling him to just go back in there and stop making his situation worse.
He stopped midway down the hall, half because he couldn't help it, and half because he felt truly bad for just abandoning her. Yet she didn't chase him. She stood outside the tall doorway, watching him go. She didn't seem angry, just sad.
'Keep walking,' his mind told him. 'It's irrational to go back. You're going to get hurt. She doesn't want to help you, she wants to hurt you, just like your parents. Run away. It's easier.'
He had to argue against the voice. It was wrong. It was irrational to walk away, it was! Negotiation-Sensei already knew he was hurting himself, Hizashi had already seen the damage. If he ran away now, he would be found by a hero crew in no time, and then, only god knew where he would end up.
He swallowed a lump in his throat, and with great effort, pushed himself back toward his teacher, back into the classroom, back into the mess he had gotten himself into. Negotiation-Sensei closed the door quietly, and they both stood silently for a moment, watching for movement.
Shouta was the first to make a move. He set down his book bag, and took off his jacket. He took a deep, deep breath, shut his eyes tight, and tried not to cry as he forced himself to roll up his sleeves to show her what he had done.
He heard her sharp heels tap quietly against the linoleum floor, then felt her hands take both wrists carefully, as though she were handling glass. There was a small gasp from her, and it made him open his eyes.
She was trying to keep her composure, to stay professional. But the sight of the white scars contrasting with the most recent red, angry marks was testing her. Shouta was only sixteen, too young to bear such burden upon his shoulders. He was still so baby-faced, his cheeks still held onto the last pounds of chubby childhood despite how much he worked out. To see him covered in scars he himself had given was too much for her. Negotiation-Sensei started to weep, silently and pained.
Shouta pulled his arms away from her, and he rolled his sleeves down.
"I...I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to make you cry."
"No," she said as she wiped her eyes, "don't apologize. Shouta, you can't do this anymore. This has to end. You don't deserve to hurt yourself, you don't deserve to suffer like this. I'm going to talk to Recovery Girl and Nedzu, and we are going to do our best to make sure you don't go back to your parents. I can't make that promise, but I can promise to try my best."
She turned to grab a tissue from her desk, and added, "Come sit back down. I have to ask a few more questions."
"...Really? I'm really tired, Sensei. I..."
"I know you are, love. I know. You've been through a lot today. These emotions can sap your energy, especially for you since you've held them in for so long. But I need to ask a few more before we go see Recovery Girl."
"Wait, tonight?"
"Well...yes. I can't let you go back to your room, Shouta. You're currently under my protection, and we will have to place you on a suicide watch. It's nothing bad, just observation for the night. Like when someone gets surgery, they have to be watched for signs of danger overnight."
Shouta had a look of horror on his face, so she quickly added, "We aren't going to wrap you in a straitjacket or lock you in a little cell. This isn't America, you know. You will just stay in the hospital wing, probably with anyone who broke their arm today. I know you've done it before, thanks to those horrible migraines you get."
Despite her best efforts to keep him calm, Shouta shook his head and began to tear up. "No, no I can't do that. You can't force me to go. This is a fucking nightmare!" He slammed his fists on the desk. "Please don't trap me in there, Sensei! Please!"
Negotiation-Sensei took his violently shaking hands. "What's happening here?" she asked softly. "You were scared before, but now you're absolutely horrified. Is there something else you haven't told me yet?"
"I d-don't wanna do this," he blubbered pathetically. "I can't do this again..."
"Do what again?"
He wrenched his hands from hers and wiped at his bleary eyes. "My p-parents went ducking berserk two summers ago, when they c-caught...when they caught me doing it. My d-dad just picked me up and threw me into my r-r-room. He took out everything but my b-bed, boarded my w-windows shut so I couldn't escape! He locked me in there and didn't let me out for two months. No one knew I was trapped! I can't do it again, please don't lock me up!"
Before he could even register it happening, she had her arms around him again, this time much tighter. It wasn't the hug that caught him off guard. Instead, it was a kiss to the top of his head that made are him tense up.
"I'm so sorry," he heard Negotiation-Sensei say. "I am so, so sorry that this has been your life. You don't deserve any of this pain. Please, Shouta, please let me help you."
The door to her room suddenly opened, and Shouta half-hoped it was Hizashi returning to save his sorry ass. But he felt he would vomit the instant he saw his school's tiny principal, Nedzu, pushing open the gigantic door.
"Good evening, friends!" He was bright as usual. "I saw the light in this room was still on, so I wanted to make sure no students were using this room inappropriately. Why are you both crying?"
Negotiation-Sensei loosened her grip on Shouta, but she didn't let him go. She said, "Close the door, sir. I'd like to invite you into our conversation."
"No," Shouta whispered, "not yet!"
"Not yet?" Nedzu repeated. Shouta cursed himself silently for forgetting his principal had a keen sense of hearing. "What's going on, young man?"
"I...nothing, sir!" Shouta bowed, both out of respect. "I have to go to bed now, I have an early class tomorrow. Good night!"
He took several quick steps to leave, but the little principal blocked the way out. "No, no," he said cheerfully. "If you need to sleep in and miss class because of me, I will gladly write a note to excuse you. Come now, it seems something important is taking place. Perhaps I could help."
"God dammit," Shouta cursed under his breath. Nedzu's ears perked up at the curse word.
"Language, young man," he scolded, though it was gentle. "Come on, then. We should absolutely talk." He closed the door, and once again, Shouta was trapped. He groaned inwardly and slumped his shoulders, but forced himself to turn around.
The little principal jumped up onto Negotiation-Sensei's desk, and gestured to the chair. "Sit, sit, my boy. Sensei, you too. Please, fill me in."
"This isn't my story to tell," Negotiation-Sensei said as she and Shouta settled back into their seats. "I think this is Shouta's time to speak."
The principal looked to the young man across from him, trying to hide his face under the mop of black hair he'd been growing since he started school here. He didn't want them to see how humiliated he felt, and how scared he was of losing control of his life over this mess.
"I think I already know what's going on," Nedzu admitted suddenly. Shouta's head shot up to stare. "I knew I should have intervened sooner, but I was concerned that bringing it up would affect not only your grades, but also your mental well being. So I kept quiet, Shouta. I apologize."
"Wait, you knew, sir?" Negotiation-Sensei asked, baffled.
"The day I met him, I knew," the little person answered. "Shouta, when you earned your scholarship here, I met you and your family for a tour of the school. I got to know their scent. And when I took you to see a part of the school your parents couldn't be allowed access, I could smell their fists all over you. Your mother's hand in your hair from pulling it, your father's fists under your shirt. I even smelled the clotted blood bandaged under your sleeves. I made sure you got a room here so that you wouldn't have to go home to that every night."
Shouta's jaw hit the desk. "You...you knew? But why didn't you say anything?"
"Like I said, grades. You're a brilliant student. You'll make an excellent hero. I'm impressed by your desire to not be a flashy one, too. You clearly care about the world, even though you've been abused so badly."
"...so you won't expel me?"
"Of course not. I could never allow a child to be returned that environment. You know, you ought to read those new Harry Potter books, you might relate to the main character. Very big in America right now."
"Um...okay. So...what happens now? Do I still have to go see Recovery Girl?"
"Yes," both adults said. Negotiation-Sensei added, "Shouta, she needs to be aware of your injuries. But first, there is something I do want from you."
"What?"
"I want you to give me that box." She pointed at the orange lotus cake tin still tucked under his arm, as though he were protecting it from danger. He shivered as she reached out and held her hand open for it.
"No," he said, shaking his head, "no, I can't let you have this. Please, I need it. I know that sounds terrible, but it keeps me alive, it keeps me sane. Without this, I'll lose my mind."
"Tell you what," Nedzu said, standing up, "let's empty it out, right here. You can keep the box, but give us the contents."
"No...!"
Negotiation-Sensei put her hand down. "What do you fear will happen if we simply take away what resides within it?"
He felt his whole body trembling. He didn't know. He wasn't sure if he even had a real answer. He just couldn't stand the thought of giving away the only thing that ever made him feel in control.
"I....I won't be okay," he blubbered as he started to cry. "I won't have anything left to control, and I'll...I'll..." He trailed off and wiped his eyes. He wanted to pretend this whole fucking day was just a bad dream, that he would wake up, grab that beloved box and cut himself a slice of calm cake. But he didn't wake up. His teacher and his principal still had their eyes on him, both waiting for him to hand over his possession.
They let him cry. Negotiation-Sensei was surprised by just how much this quiet, serious child needed it. And as he cried, Shouta realized that he had never cried so much, even when he was being beaten by his parents. Maybe this wasn't a terrible thing to happen to him. Maybe he needed these people to push him to do what scared him most.
He lifted up his head and wiped at his tired eyes. 'You can do this,' he thought silently. 'It's just a box. Just a stupid box filled with stupid junk you don't need. Just dump it on the table.'
"You can do this," Negotiation-Sensei said gently. "You've survived this far, lived beyond what's been done to you. If you could handle that pain, then I know you can start to live without suffering."
Her words struck something deep inside him. She was right, he had made it this far! He had survived years of abuse, of being thrown away like trash. He had persevered all this time. He didn't want to suffer anymore. He wanted to be a hero, but before he could save others, he realized it was time for him to be saved. Despite the fear, and pushing through his own body as it fought against him, Shouta forced himself to shakily pull the box away from under his armpit and into both hands. His arms trembled, shaking the sharp objects loudly. He pried off the lid, and carefully tipped the tin over, pouring the rattling objects over his teacher's desk.
All three were silent, taking in this momentous action. Negotiation-Sensei felt pride for her stubborn student, while Nedzu felt relief that they had gotten through to him. But Shouta had so many feelings bubbling to the surface that he grabbed his teacher's little trash can and vomited into it, sick from the swarm of emotions he'd repressed for years.
"I'm sorry," he wheezed between hurls, "i feel like I'm dying...hurk!"
"It's okay, love, it's okay," Negotiation-Sensei said as she stood up and rubbed his back. "You've done very well today. You're taking the first steps towards getting better and rebuilding your life. You don't need to remind yourself of your past through self-harm. You grow from it. Not everyone can do it. But I think you can."
While she comforted the sick teenager, Nedzu quickly searched through Negotiation-Sensei's desk and emptied out a box of paper clips to safely contain and carry the blades out of the classroom. He intended to bring them to Recovery Girl to examine. He said,
"My friends, it's getting late. It would be best to make our way to Recovery Girl's office."
"Please don't make me stay there," Shouta begged, clawing at his teacher's arms. "Please, I promise I'll stop. Just let me go to my room!"
"No," Negotiation-Sensei said firmly. "I have already told you, you have to go. Legally, I might add. I promise you, again, you will not be sent away or chained up in a straitjacket. You have to be in a safe place, and here, that means Recovery Girl's medical bay. Come on, stand up." She held his hand as he wobbly rose to his feet. His entire body shook even more violently than earlier, and she hated that she had to force him to suffer through this great fear of his. But he needed to be safe, to be in a place where he could be observed overnight.
"You promise? You really promise I'll be allowed to stay here? No hospital?" It was a half hopeful, half sarcastic question. He couldn't help himself from saying it the way he did.
"Well...I..." she wasn't sure what to say. How could she promise that? That wasn't her call to make. Nedzu, astutely aware of her discomfort, came to her rescue.
"Young man, I promise you will always have a home here at UA. Even if you are required to visit the hospital, or see a therapist off campus, you are always welcome here. Now, let's not fret over the future. The present is still happening. Are you ready?"
Shouta stared briefly at the small, clear plastic container holding his blades. His breath felt nonexistent for a moment, but a gentle squeeze from Negotiation-Sensei forced him to look away, breathe, and nod.
"Okay. Okay, I think...I think I'm ready."
FOURTEEN YEARS LATER
Nobody was perfect. He had to repeat this to himself for the last fourteen years. Shouta had not been able to quit his habit, though he did his best to seek out help when he found himself feeling the urge to cut. But those 4 am nightmares, they got him good.
Negotiation-Sensei still held her position at the school, and she, along with Recovery Girl, checked on his weekly to talk and check for new marks. When they found new ones, it became a long conversations. He tried to avoid it, but sometimes, those nightmares just...they did their job well.
Hizashi remained closer than ever to his friend, even after their fight. He refused to give up on his suffering friend, and did want he could to offer help, support, and love. And every time Shouta looked longingly at his new, yellow tin with blades inside, he always at least tried to imagine how Hizashi would react.
It didn't always work. But he was trying. Nobody was perfect.
End