Chapter Text
“Heroes, as you probably know, often fight as teams or in pairs. This tends to look easier than it is, as fighting together requires good coordination, awareness, and, centrally, cooperation,” Irikawa Riku, also known as the hero Spaceshifter, carries on, ignoring the murmurs among the students before her. It's early morning at Yuuei on a Monday in June and the first-year students in the hero track learn their task for the week.
“Failures in cooperation have caused incidents involving avoidable collateral damage including civilian deaths. You may be too young to recall the Nagoya incident, but …” On the screen behind Irikawa the newspaper headlines and pictures flicker past.
“Shinya,” Yamada Hizashi leans across his desk toward the boy on his left. “Is this a quirk? I feel her voice can put people to sleep.”
Kirihara Shinya snorts, earning himself and Hizashi annoyed looks from their neighbors. Particularly the student on Hizashi’s right, one Aizawa Shouta, glares. His loss, Hizashi thinks. It’s not as if this part of the lesson is going to be on any test; not when the practical part hasn’t even begun.
But Aizawa’s not the social type anyway. The school year isn’t quite two months old, but from what Hizashi observed his seat neighbor hasn’t made friends - or tried to make any. His quirk doesn’t entirely help things; Hizashi’s been in more than one conversation where his classmates expressed concern about said scary quirk and its potential to cause injury.
“If he hits me mid-flight,” Hashimoto Touya had said over lunch, “he could kill me.”
As they’re all here to become heroes, Hizashi didn’t quite believe it.
“Well, Natsuko-chan could eat you,” somebody had replied, and that had changed the conversation.
“For this week's exercises,” Hizashi’s attention is drawn back to their teacher, “I have paired each of you up with a classmate. You will have to participate in different exercises working as a team and consciously focusing on cooperation.”
Hizashi wants to groan. Several of his fellow students do groan.
“Sensei,” Honda Tomoko raises her hand, and when given permission, asks. “Can we change partners?” Several classmates nod in fervent agreement. Working with friends is best, Hizashi thinks to himself.
“No,” Irikawa returns swiftly, coolly dashing hopes. “I’m aware you regularly cooperate with those in class you consider friends. However, professional heroes cannot rely on having a closely known friend at hand to back them up. Which is why the challenge for you this week will be to cooperate with classmates you do not know well, or do not get along with. Personal sympathies have place in a hero’s work, so you need to learn how to set these aside.”
Grumbling greets the announcement. Hizashi is indifferent - his quirk isn’t really suited to partnering up; his strategy is to scream until he’s the only one left standing. That usually works, unless somebody gets the drop on him first.
Their teacher pulls up a list on the screen.
“Alright,” she cheerfully announces. “First up we have Shiraiishi Misa and Kojima Shinichi.” The two students look at each other. Shinichi manages a half-hearted wave and Misa responds with her shark-toothed smile.
Huh, Hizashi thinks. Shark-mutation and hurricane quirk. Apparently Irikawa has a taste for trashy movies.
“Sharknado,” Shinya whispers, sotto voce. Uchikawa Shosuke in the seat before him snorts. Irikawa glares at them over her printout, but continues.
“Hinamura Natsuko and Minamoto Ina.” Their resident devourer of all and the dinosaur-loving golem-raiser exchange skeptic looks across the classroom.
“Jurassic Park,” Shinya whispers.
Hizashi hides his face behind his hand. He’s glad for the entertaining commentary, especially since it takes a while until Irikawa reaches his name.
“Yamada Hizashi and Aizawa Shouta.”
Hizashi’s mood falls. His gaze swivels toward the dark-haired boy, who looks at him with his usual sullen expression. Ugh, Hizashi thinks to himself. He’d have preferred shark-girl over the loner with the villain quirk.
Aizawa looks as overjoyed at the pairing as Hizashi feels if the flat stare he gives him is anything to go by.
“The first exercise today will be a free for all team fight this afternoon,” their teacher continues once all pairs have been announced. “You have twenty minutes to defeat as many opponents as you can in order to remain the last pair standing. Points will be awarded both for remaining in the fight until the end, as well as taking out other combatants. Hiding is a strategy, but you cannot win with it. I recommend you take the time until this afternoon to discuss strategies with your partner.”
Around Hizashi, his classmates exchange wary looks. He frowns to himself, not looking at his neighbor.
“What type of area will we be fighting in?” another student asks.
Their teacher turns on her heel. “Residential neighborhood type.”
Hizashi shrugs, though some of his classmates sigh in disappointment. Those with very physical quirks will need to watch out for collateral damage – Kojima’s hurricane quirk is one of those always bound to cause collateral damage in a urban area. And to be honest, Hizashi’s quirk doesn’t go all too well with residential places either. Still, if a lecture for shattering all windows in the surroundings is the price for winning, then he won’t mind.
Hizashi does not discuss strategy with his team mate. Rather, he helps his friends with their English assignment, messes up in art history, and ignores the upcoming task as thoroughly as possible. Even at lunch, when most of the students sit down with their assigned partners, Hizashi sticks to his usual group.
He casts a quick glance through the cafeteria. If Aizawa’s around - but there’s no trace of his gloomy classmate, so Hizashi shrugs that off and joins Shinya and Natsuko and their respective partners at a table.
As he changes Hizashi does contemplate shifting from his usual attack pattern. He could try another pitch; one that leaves the glass intact. But he isn’t sure if will affect his classmates, and he’d rather be fast, since either Kojima Shinichi’s hurricane quirk, Tanaka Eijiko’s possession quirk or Kawamoto Daisuke’s super speed will take him out otherwise. Aizawa’s gotten to him, too, but they’re on the same team now.
He slinks over to Aizawa when he’s done changing into his sports uniform. Fiddling with the directional speakers around his neck, he clears his throat. Aizawa looks at him, wrapping that odd bandage-like weapon he uses around his shoulders, and doesn’t say anything.
“So, strategy,” Hizashi says awkwardly. The changing room is nearly empty already.
Aizawa tilts his head. “Do you have an idea?” he asks. Outside, their teacher calls for everyone to gather. Maybe they ought to have discussed strategy earlier, but Hizashi pushes that thought away. Instead he shrugs, turns, and makes his way out, aware that Aizawa follows him like a shadow
“Rules for the match: once I blow the whistle you have ten minutes,” Irikawa explains. “As always, try to limit collateral damage and keep the focus on your opponents. Avoid causing injury, the aim is to remove from the fight. I’ll intervene if the situation gets out of hand; you know how to signal.”
Several heads nod.
“Good, now get in position.”
Hizashi rolls his shoulders, glances around. Many have already spread out, and he edges toward his own favorite spot on the arena. Aizawa follows him without protest; even if Hizashi knows the other student prefers to start out from some sort of hiding spot.
“Ready?” Irikawa shouts.
“Look, about that strategy” he says to his partner, setting his hand on the volume switch on his speakers. “Just cover your ears.” Aizawa turns as if about to protest, but then the whistle sounds and it's on.
Hizashi takes a deep breath, dismayed he missed his timing. Aizawa launches himself past Hizashi, and hey, whatever he does, Hizashi doesn't really care. There's a thud, and fog begins to cover the arena; an explosion from the far left, but that's it.
Because Hizashi opens his mouth, turns his speakers up, and releases what he’s termed the shattering scream. It's loud, it's high, and it shatters glass and eardrums alike.
Glass bursts, lamps shatter, the other students drop like flies, clutching at their ears and whimpering. Hizashi's own head vibrates painfully with the volume, despite his custom-made noise-cancelling earphones.
Their teacher hits the light switch; and the arena is bathed in purple light. It’s one of the signals and with that the match is over. Hizashi stops screaming, only slightly disappointed. Most matches have gone like this lately; there's little people can do against sound, and ever since Hizashi perfected his pitch to break glass and snuff out candles, robots don't challenge him either.
“Team Yamada-Aizawa wins,” their teacher announces, sounding duly unimpressed.
Hizashi smirks, shoving his hands in his pocket. Won, and he hasn’t even broken a sweat.
“We’ll discuss this in more detail later. First, everybody who has need, go and see Recovery Girl.” Irikawa announces as she marches onto the field. Several students are climbing to their feet unsteadily, rubbing their ears with pained grimaces. Hizashi feels only a little sorry - this wasn’t his loudest, not by far.
“Damnit, it, Hizashi, can’t you just give us a break,” Shinya complains, as he stomps over, rubbing his head.
Hizashi’s about to reply, but Irikawa hurries past him, looking concerned. He turns, vaguely interested on whom he hit worst this time (most of his classmates are used to it by now, but ever since he learned to control his quirk even better he's tried to avoid hitting them at full blast. Burst eardrums are painful, he knows that best of all).
It's Aizawa.
He's out cold, prone on the ground just a few steps behind Hizashi. A trickle of blood runs from his ear along his jaw, disappearing into black hair. The sight makes Hizashi uncomfortable.
But really. Aizawa knows his attacking style and Hizashi warned him. He ought to have gotten away faster. It's not Hizashi’s fault he was too slow.
Irikawa kneels next to the unconscious student with a sigh, does a routine check for vitals before sitting back with a sigh. “Uchikawa, can you get a stretcher?”
Uchikawa Shosuke nods and gestures toward the medical equipment on the arena’s sidelines. The stretcher rises into the air and floats toward them, and Hizashi thinks, once more, that telekinesis is truly a handy quirk.
Aizawa is transferred onto it, and Uchikawa gently floats it toward the exit. Hizashi’s teammate doesn’t wake up, and that makes something in Hizashi’s chest twist, so he looks away. Nearby, Irikawa climbs to her feet with a sigh.
“Yamada, I believe you did not intentionally injure your team mate, however, I must say I am rather displeased at your lack of awareness,” she declares sternly.
Raising her voice for all the remaining students to hear, she continues. “Now, one of the points of cooperation lies in assessing and understanding the risk utilizing your quirk poses to others. In your work, there will likely be bystanders on the scene, if not other heroes. Using your quirk may resolve the situation, but it should not be an action taken lightly. Carelessness has caused fatalities before.”
Hizashi bites on his lower lip and shifts his weight. His quirk isn’t fatal, yet still. Next to him, several of his classmates shudder.
“Furthermore,” Irikawa continues. “Even if you resolve a situation, whatever damage you incur can be billed to you. Should an investigation turn up that deployment of your quirk to that degree was unnecessary, you will find yourself faced with lawsuits and may potentially lose your license.” Her students look paler and paler.
“Which is why the ability to coordinate and cooperate with others is so important.” Their teacher ends her impromptu lecture, arms crossed before her. “Now, go and get changed, and meet me back in the classroom.”
The students retreat to the changing room, muttering amongst themselves. Not too few find the prospect of cooperation daunting. “I’m going to become a solo heroine,” Ejiko declares firmly before the door to the girl’s room shuts behind her. “A solo heroine in the remote countryside.”
“And what kind of hero work does she intend to do there?” Shinya wonders out loud, slipping into his spot next to Hizashi. “Possessing bears? Can she even do that?”
Hizashi snorts at the mental image, as he slips his own school shirt back over his shoulders. Not getting all that sweaty is another advantage of his preferred strategy, though he does plan on working out later. His physical shape isn’t as good as it could be – not that he needs it, thanks to his quirk, but somewhere in the back of his mind he thinks it wouldn’t be bad to put on some muscle.
“Damn Hizashi,” Obata Kogo says, as he buttons up his shirt next to Hizashi. “You only get worse with time. We barely got any time to practice today - don’t you want to sit out a day for our sake?”
Hizashi gives him his brightest smile. “Plus ultra, no?”
Several students chuckle, somebody clasps his shoulder. Mochizuka Tanumi, a quieter student, pipes up from across the room. “Though if Aizawa hadn't taken out Kawamoto…”
“Kawamoto?” Hizashi echoes, surprised. Kawamoto had been a good distance to Hizashi’s left once he'd stopped screaming. He’d been out, but Hizashi had thought that was due to his scream.
Tanumi nods. “Yes, he went for your back. And he'd have made it if Aizawa hadn't gotten there, I think.”
Hizashi’s eyes are growing bigger and bigger.
“It looked pretty cool,” Kogo adds with a smirk. “He flung Kawamoto right out of the way with that weapon of his. Looked as if he didn't even use his quirk.”
“He did,” Kawamoto pipes up from the back of the group. “He'd never have caught me otherwise.”
And that's truer than Hizashi wants it to be. Cold sweat beads his back, and he balls his fists in his pockets. Kawamoto with his super speed and agility is one of the classmates who semi-regularly defeat Hizashi when he’s not fast enough to react.
He’d likely have gotten Hizashi this time to. If not for Aizawa. Whom Hizashi then had put into the infirmary.
“Shit,” he curses quietly. “Tell Ms. Irikawa I'm in the infirmary,” he tells his classmates, grabbing his bag and heading for the door. He's an idiot, he thinks. Brash and arrogant, and damn that Aizawa.
Who on earth takes on an enemy instead of getting themselves to safety? Only an idiot would be so reckless. And Aizawa really should have known, should have covered his ears.
But then Kawamoto would have gotten through.
Damnit, Hizashi thinks again, stomping down the corridor. He’s used to his classmates grumbling, to the good-humored complaints when he takes them out with his quirk. But he knows they’d do the same in a heartbeat if he gives them an opening. Taking out somebody who’s watching his back is an entirely different matter.
No wonder Irikawa looked so disappointed.
It leaves a foul taste in his mouth, because Hizashi is not that kind of person.
He raps his knuckles against the infirmary’s door before entering. Recovery Girl is at her desk and turns to look at him. “Ah, young Yamada. What can I do for you today?”
The large room behind her is mostly empty; all except one partitioning curtains are open, revealing unoccupied beds. A warm breeze blows in from an open window on the far wall. Hizashi gulps. “I was, ah, looking for my classmate.”
Recovery Girl’s eyebrows rise and a smile crawls onto her face. “Oh, young Aizawa? Your friend is just over there.” She points toward the closed curtain, and Hizashi nods his head in thanks. In truth, he feels awkward. He and Aizawa aren’t friends; aren’t even close. But any attempt from him to resolve this misunderstanding would be even more embarrassing.
So he makes his way over to the partitioning curtain, wondering if his classmate is even awake. She’d have told him if he wasn’t; he thinks, and then draws the curtain back enough to slip through.
Aizawa is awake, history textbook open on his knees. He’s still in his sports uniform, bloodstains and all, but looks more exhausted than usual. Recovery Girl healed him, then.
“Aizawa,” Hizashi greets, feeling clumsy.
“Yamada.” A raised eyebrow.
The silence stretches for a moment too long. Hizashi feels sweat begin to form in the small of his back. “Look,” he clears his throat. “I just… I wanted to apologize.” There, he tells himself, it’s not that hard.
Only Aizawa stares at him like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck. “What?”
“For earlier. When I knocked you out?” Hizashi flounders. “Look, I had no idea you took out Kawamoto. Didn’t even notice him move.”
Aizawa blinks. “Did we win?” he asks apropos of nothing.
Hizashi crosses his arms. “We did,” he confirms; though the victory now seems quite hollow to him. “Though not in the way Irikawa wanted.”
His classmate gives a small shrug. “What you did was only logical,” Aizawa replies as if the dried blood staining the collar of his sports uniform means nothing.
“Logical?” Hizashi echoes in disbelief.
Aizawa looks puzzled. “You did what was necessary to win. And we won, didn’t we?”
Hizashi huffs. Looks from his classmate to the white sheets, to the window and the cloudy sky outside. “Yes, but …” he shakes his head, wishing Aizawa had been there to hear their teacher’s lecture. “Irikawa really wasn’t happy with it. Said recklessly endangering others only get you lawsuits and bills and might even cost you your license.” He forces a smile.
“Huh, well… You did warn me,” Aizawa points with a shrug. “I just didn’t cover my ears.”
“Yeah, because you took out Kawamoto who’d have gotten to me otherwise,” Hizashi replies, tone maybe a little sharper than it ought to be, considering he was trying to apologize. He takes a deep breath, tells himself to calm down. “Also, even if you had covered your ears, that close I’d probably have taken you out anyway. So, sorry.”
Aizawa blinks at him.
“Look, I know it was an asshole move, and I should have known better. I’m not really good at this cooperation thing, but I guess I ought to try.” He nods helplessly toward Aizawa and the medical equipment around them. For all that he thinks he’d rather be a solo hero; he doesn’t want to be a hero who puts others at risk. Seeing his classmate passed out today was a stark reminder.
Aizawa bows his head, dark hair hiding his face from view for a moment. Hizashi exhales, wondering if his classmate actually got what he was trying to say.
"I guess we should," the other says quietly, surprising Hizashi. There's a shadow of a grin on those thin lips, and a contemplative light to Aizawa's eyes. "I mean, we won today, so I don't mind. But screaming at it may not solve whatever she's got in store for us tomorrow."
Hizashi snorts, and immediately presses a hand before his mouth. His quirk and involuntary noises have a tricky relationship, so Aizawa looks utterly undaunted. Hizashi abruptly thinks he likes that. "Screaming always helps," he declares with mock-petulance, and straightens up. He probably ought to head back to class, now that he's said his part, and Aizawa catches his glance toward the clock.
He gives a short, wordless nod, and Hizashi holds out his hand. “Let’s try better tomorrow?”
Aizawa takes it. "Let's try."
It’s not perfect, Hizashi thinks as he leaves the infirmary and heads back toward his classroom, but it’s going into the right direction. Aizawa seemed much less standoffish than he thought; perhaps he isn’t such a cold fish after all. Perhaps they can make this team thing work after all.
Tomorrow might just be interesting.
tbc