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“God, she’s such a slut.”
“Right? First, she was in that ridiculous commercial and I thought maybe it was a one-time thing, but her hero costume says otherwise.”
“She’s just as bad as Midnight.”
Momo’s face burned. All she could do was stare down at her shoes and try to blink back the tears forming in her eyes. It was the third time this week that she’d overheard someone making such hateful comments about her. She truly had no idea what she had done to deserve their cruelty. It was true that her quirk often caused her to end up in some compromising situations, but it wasn’t as if she asked for those things to happen. If she wanted to use her quirk properly, she needed to have as much uncovered skin as possible. Her quirk was literally useless without it.
Once she had composed herself, she unlocked the bathroom stall and stepped out. She smiled as warmly as she could at the girls standing by the mirrors. Even though she hated being the target of their bullying, she didn’t have it in her to stoop to their level. She’d rather treat them as kindly as she could and hope that one day they’d return the favor.
As much as she hated to admit it, it was getting harder to hold her head high in situations like that. After the commercial she was in with, coupled with the UA Festival, she’d gained a fair bit of popularity that she wasn’t entirely sure what to do with. Having people scream her name at the festival had been so exhilarating. She’d secretly dreamed of being an idol when she was younger, so she felt a bit giddy at being able to live out that dream, short lived as it was.
She hadn’t just gained fans, though. For all popularity she had gained, she seemed to have garnered even more criticism. It was mostly students—usually girls who were struggling with their own femininity. She wasn’t a fan of being used as a scapegoat for their problems, but she smart enough to realize that they didn’t really have an issue with her at all.
The slut-shaming, though… It wasn’t as if she actually cared that people thought of her that way, but it was pretty hard to ignore the real-world consequences being labeled a slut caused for her. Before her rise in popularity, she was one of the 1A students that got praised for how well she could handle her quirk, and she had reveled in it. Now, though, it was as if her work towards becoming a hero didn’t matter at all. The only thing people saw when they looked at her was the slut who showed a disgusting amount of skin—the girl who wore provocative hero costumes to better her popularity in the field of heroics.
And she didn’t have a problem with that or with the heroes who relied on their sex appeal to get a higher popularity ranking or better sponsorships. But she wasn’t doing that. She was the same as she always was. And she didn’t want to change.
But the attention she was getting was morphing into something she didn’t know how to handle. People—men—were looking at her now in a way that they hadn’t before. There wasn’t a place she could go where there weren’t eyes on her, following her every movement and making lewd gestures when they thought she couldn’t see them. She felt overexposed and constantly on edge. No amount of adjusting her clothes or covering herself up with baggy scarves and shawls stopped the gazes from burning into her skin.
She didn’t know how to make those feelings stop. There wasn’t much she could change, really. It seemed like the sole focus of the criticism against her came from the expense of her hero costume, but she was at a loss for how to create a better one. She couldn’t have a costume like Tsu or Uraraka’s. Showing her skin was essential. If she wore something like the other girls in her class, she might as well be quirkless.
So needless to say, the comments were distracting her. Normally during quirk training, she’d happily spar against Jirou or Hagakure, or even Iida if she felt confident enough, but she couldn’t seem to pull herself from her thoughts. Every time she felt comfortable enough to make a move, she’d find herself stepping back and tugging on her costume to pull it closed. It wasn’t until after her second sparring match with Jirou that she realized she hadn’t used her quirk at all.
Which led her to her current situation. Normally, she’d spar happily against Jirou or Hagakure, and sometimes Iida, during combat training, but her head just wasn’t in it. She kept thinking back to the harsh comments from those third-years, and she kept wanting to tug her costume as close as she could. After her third go-around with Jirou, she still hadn’t used her quirk for anything, and she knew she would have to eventually. She’d have to pull the sides of her leotard open, exposing even more skin than she already was.
“Yaoyorozu, come here a minute,” Aizawa called. Jirou looked confused at her suddenly being called away, so she waved at her friend over her shoulder before moving towards her teacher.
“Yes, sensei?” she asked.
“We’re practicing using your quirks in combat situations, right?” he asked. Momo shifted on her feet a bit.
“Yes,” She couldn’t keep the defensive tone out of her voice, but if Aizawa noticed it, he didn’t comment.
“Why haven’t you used your quirk, then? You’ve been sparring with Jirou for thirty minutes, and you’ve focused solely on hand-to-hand combat today. You’re improving at it, but that isn’t why we’re here,” he commented. He leaned back against one of the concrete pillars Cementoss had created as he spoke. He looked mostly indifferent, with no detectable traces of anger or disappointment anywhere on his features.
Still, Momo couldn’t keep the blush off her face. She tried to weigh her options quickly. She could be honest and tell Aizawa that she felt uncomfortable in her hero costume today, or she could lie, make up some story about not getting enough to eat at lunch, so she didn’t have the energy to use her quirk. The latter seemed more appealing.
“I just don’t feel well today, sensei. I apologize,” she said, choosing instead to go for a half-truth, rather than a full lie. Aizawa looked at her, his usually bored expression slipping into one of slight concern.
“You should have said you didn’t feel well, Yayaorozu, you could have sat out from training today. Do you need to go see Recovery Girl?” he asked. He placed his palm against her forehead, clearly testing to see if she had a fever.
“I don’t think so, I wouldn’t mind sitting out for a few minutes, though,” she said. He nodded and she walked towards a few benches that lined the back wall. She sat and watched as her peers continued fighting. She watched as Jirou moved to spar against Shoji and Hagakure in her absence.
She took a moment to appreciate just how strong her classmates had become. She’d been fighting alongside them for months now, and it still amazed her to see how much they had all improved. She felt a small smile pull at the corner of her mouth.
She sat up a little straighter when she heard some voices from the hallway filtering into the gym. She could only make out a few words, just her name and the word ‘costume.’ She didn’t bother with trying to be discrete and turned her head towards the doors, unsurprised to see the same girls from earlier that morning. She frowned at their openly judgemental looks and turned back towards her classmates.
She tugged on the sides of her leotard and stared up at the ceiling. She was so frustrated. How could they not realize the impact they were having on her? How did they not understand that she wasn’t a slut. But it didn’t even matter, because the rumors had spread and now she was here, too anxious to use her quirk and blinking back tears on the floor of the gymnasium.
”Hey Momo, if you want, we could go somewhere else and spar, just the two of us. I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Mineta was standing in front of her, close enough that he could reach out and touch her if he wanted to. The thought of his disgusting hands touching her made her skin crawl.
She blinked once, twice, but it wasn’t enough to stop the tears from falling. Wordlessly, she stood up and carefully brushed the dust from her hero costume. And then, in one swift movement, slapped Mineta across the face as hard as she could. She didn’t stick around, just turned and walked out of the gym as her classmates looked on in confused, stunned silence.
“Okay, class dismissed. Mineta, if I hear even a rumor that you have tried to talk to Yaoyorozu again today I will expel you. Jirou, you stay.”
Aizawa watched as Class 1-A began filtering out of the gym, headed either towards the locker room or back to the dorms. Quiet conversations were being had about Yaoyorozu’s sudden outburst. He could still hear Mineta complaining that he “seriously hadn’t done anything” and that Yaoyoruzu had just suddenly attacked him.
“You wanted to see me, sensei?” Jirou asked.
“Yes, Jirou,” he said, scrubbing a hand roughly over his face. “Do you have any idea what’s going on with Yaoyorozu?” he asked. He watched as Jirou suddenly looked at the floor, chewing nervously on her bottom lip.
“It isn’t my place to say,” she said, fiddling with her earlobes as she spoke.
“I know she’s your friend, but if something is bothering her, I need to know about it.”
Jirou looked at him, then, obviously still debating if she should share whatever it was that she knew. Finally, she sighed and crossed her arms over her chest.
“She wouldn’t call it this, but she’s being bullied by some third-year girls. They keep calling her a slut and making fun of her hero costume. I overheard them a few days ago and wanted to rip their heads off, but she told me it didn’t bother her,” she said, venom lacing her voice as she mentioned the cruel third-year students. “I guess it finally got to her.“
“Plus, as much as he wants to deny it, Mineta’s a real creep, sensei. It was only a matter of time before someone snapped,” she said. She had a fiery look in her eyes like she was daring him to disagree with her.
“Don’t worry about Mineta, I plan on dealing with him soon,” he promised her. “I’m going to speak with Yaoyorozu back at the dorms. Bullying is not tolerated, and I assure you I will put a stop to it, Jirou,” he said.
“Good.”
Aizawa dismissed her then, walking towards his office so he could write up an incident report. Hell, it looked like he needed to write three at this point, one for Yaoyorozu’s outburst, one for Mineta, and one for the third years that were bullying his student.
He felt the familiar anger coiling through his stomach. He understood bullies all too well. He’d faced plenty of them when he was still in high school. As someone with a “villainous” quirk, he was an easy target. If he hadn’t become such close friends with Hizashi and Oboro, he knew he would have never passed the hero course at UA. He probably would have dropped out, just like everyone assumed he would. Even his teachers weren't on his side. He swore to himself that this time, he would change something.
He gripped the ends of his capture weapon tightly as he walked. He knew his situation was much different than his student’s, but he refused to let such a bright young girl be brought to such anger and frustration over something as stupid as a revealing hero costume.
As soon as he was done writing up his reports, he exited his office and began to head towards the dorms. It was starting to get cooler outside, so he was glad to have the warmth of his capture weapon around his neck.
He had almost reached the dorms when someone crashed into him and threw their arm around his shoulders.
“Oh, would you look at that, if it isn’t Eraserhead,” Nemuri purred in his ear. He ducked out from underneath her arm and glared at her.
“I thought I told you not to do that,” he said. She put a hand against her chest in mock indignation that had him rolling his eyes.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Aizawa,” she said.
“So what’s going on with Yaoyorozu anyways?” she asked. He had texted her that he needed her help with a student as he left his office. He knew he was more than capable of talking to Yaoyorozu about what was bothering her, but he figured having someone who could actually relate to how she felt would be helpful.
“I spoke to Jirou, and apparently she’s being bullied by some older students. She said they’ve been slut-shaming her about her hero costume. I figured if anyone knew what that was like it’s you,” he said.
“Aizawa, are you insinuating that I’m a slut?” Nemuri asked. Aizawa looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
“No, but you have a similar quirk in that you have to show a lot of skin for it to work properly, and you’ve never been ashamed of having,” he paused for a moment, searching for the right word, “provocative hero costumes. Plus, I’m a man and I wear a jumpsuit as my hero costume, so I can’t really relate to how she feels. Bullies I get, but I figured you could help more with the other part,” he shrugged.
Nemuri smiled softly at him, pulling him into her side again despite his protests.
“See, I always knew you were a big old softy, Aizawa,” she said, ruffling his hair affectionately. He let her, for just a moment, before he pulled away, glaring at her again.
He knew that she easily recognized there was no actual anger behind it. At this point, the only people scared of his glare and his attitude were people who hadn’t known him very long. He’d been friends with Nemuri since high school, so she was pretty much immune to his bad attitude.
They reached Yaoyorozu’s room fairly quickly, and Aizawa knocked on the door a few times. After a moment, the door opened to reveal his student. She had clearly been crying. He could see a pile of tissues on the table near her bed.
“Aizawa, Midnight-sensei, what, um, what can I do for you?” she asked. She was fidgeting with a hair-tie around her wrist, clearly nervous about being approached when she was feeling so vulnerable. He sighed. He hated seeing his students like this.
“We wanted to talk to you about what went down in the gym today,” Aizawa said. She didn’t move from the doorway, just stared at him, opening and closing her mouth a few times. Nemuri, with all her lack of couth, simply grinned wickedly at the problem child.
“Can we come in?”
Momo hadn’t expected Aizawa-sensei to come by so soon. She knew she was going to be punished for slapping Mineta, but was almost positive he’d give her the day to cool down.
She let them come inside her room and hurriedly shoved all the tissues into her waste basket. She sat on the edge of her bed, allowing Aizawa and Midnight to take the two chairs next to her tea table.
“I want to start by saying that you aren’t in trouble,” Aizawa said.
Momo stared at him.
“But - but I attacked a student! And I just left the gym without even saying anything!” she exclaimed. Aizawa kept his same neutral expression on his face as he leaned back in his chair.
“Mineta had it coming, from what I’ve been told. I plan on speaking to him tomorrow when things have cooled down.”
Momo didn’t understand. She opened her mouth to protest again, but Midnight cut her off.
“Do you want to be punished?” she asked her signature, predator-like smile on her face. Momo blushed.
“No,” she admitted. She stared down at her hands, too embarrassed to meet her teachers gaze.
“Too bad,” Aizawa smacked her and she laughed loudly, “I kid, I kid. But really, we wanted to talk to you about a certain group of students that seem to have entirely too much to say about the way you dress,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
“How did you find out about that?” Momo asked. She hadn’t really told anyone other than the people that overheard them a few days ago. She hadn’t realized any of them would mention it to their teachers.
“I asked Jirou what was going on. She didn’t want to tell me, but she’s clearly worried about you. She said that they weren’t bothering you, but I don’t think that’s entirely true. I want you to know that we don’t tolerate bullying here. If you tell us what’s going on, I promise you that I will put a stop to it,” Aizawa said, his voice fierce. Momo blinked at him. She wasn’t used to him showing any emotion, so his sudden anger surprised her.
“It really isn’t that big of a deal.”
“Look, Yaoyorozu, as much as you want to be stoic and graceful, I know better than anyone that words really can hurt you. I hope you know what I mean when I say that I understand,” Nemuri said. Momo knew that she was right, but it didn’t make it any easier to admit.
"Still, it isn't that big of a deal, I can deal with a few bullies on my own," she argued. She wasn't sure she wanted to go down the route of getting other students in trouble, at least not just yet.
"If it isn't a big deal, why are you hiding in your room crying about it?" Midnight asked bluntly. Aizawa smacked her again.
Momo couldn’t help but laugh at the two teachers in front of her. It bubbled out of her and she couldn’t seem to stop it. She raised a hand to cover her mouth, surprised to feel her cheeks were wet. She hadn’t realized she had been crying. Midnight looked—to her surprise—even more awkward at her sudden display of emotion than Aizawa did.
She quickly wiped at her face and offered the two of them a reassuring smile.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized. She used her quirk to create another box of tissues, choosing to instead pull it from her upper arm instead of her torso. She blew her nose quietly, before turning back to her teachers.
“I guess you're right," she sighed, wringing her hands a bit. "I don’t know their names, really, just what they look like. It would be nice if someone told them to stop, but that isn’t really what’s bothering me,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. She hugged them close to her as she continued speaking.
“It’s just… I… I never had a problem with my hero costume. I have to show a lot of skin for my quirk, but now I don’t think I want to anymore, but I can’t really stop it. Every time I have to put on my hero costume I hear those stupid girls and I feel like everyone is just staring at me. Before I didn’t mind, but now it just feels gross.”
She looked at Aizawa, who had a thoughtful expression on his face. Nemuri tapped her finger against her cheek, obviously thinking as well. After a moment, her eyes seemed to light up and she pointed at Momo, a delighted smile on her face.
“Well, why don’t you leave those girls up to us and for now we can focus on something we can fix pretty quickly,” Midnight said. She reached into a pocket Momo hadn’t realized was possible to have on a suit as tight as hers was and pulled out a scrap of paper. “Let’s redesign your hero costume. I think you should keep the old designs, in case you change your mind later, but for now, we can come up with something that you’re more comfortable wearing,” she said. Aizawa and Momo both stared at her.
“What, it’s not like it’s a bad idea! I design my own costumes all the time!” She tore them each off a piece of paper and grabbed a few pens off of Momo’s desk.
“I’m not sure I’m the best person to be designing a hero costume,” Aizawa grumbled.
“Just shut up and draw something, Aizawa,” Midnight sighed. Aizawa shrugged and began scribbling on the paper.
Momo stared down at the blank sheet in front of her. As badly as she wanted to change her hero costume, at least for a little while, she had no idea of what she wanted. She wracked her brain, trying to think of something that could still leave her with plenty of skin showing without making her too uncomfortable to actually wear it.
Finally, an idea struck her and she began to draw. The three of them sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound echoing throughout the room being the soft scratching of pen against paper. Midnight was finished first, holding her drawing close to her chest. Aizawa finished next, followed quickly by Momo.
“On the count of three, let’s all show what we came up with, shall we?” Midnight said, grinning wickedly. Momo swallowed nervously but flipped her paper around when the count was up.
She looked at Midnight’s first. It was pretty much the same as her own hero costume, with fabric that could easily be cut away as needed. There were notes in the margins about fabric that could stitch itself back together after a short amount of time.
Next, she looked at Aizawa’s. He had drawn a simple stick figure with a t-shirt and shorts. She giggled a bit at his drawing, and he smiled sheepishly at her.
Her own design was similar to Aizawa’s, at least in theory. She had gone with shorts that went slightly down her thighs and a snug crop top that left a good portion of her midriff exposed. It was pretty similar to an outfit she already owned, just enhanced so it had her tool belt and was made of durable fabric.
“Well, it’s no surprise to me that you came up with the best idea, problem child,” Aizawa said, smiling softly at her. She smiled shyly back at him, still cradling the design close to her chest.
“If this is the design you want to go with, I would suggest talking to Power Loader or someone in the support class, they can help you finalize things and make suggestions. I figured once you have everything in place, you could just make it yourself so you don’t have to wait the usual week or so until your new hero costume is ready,” he said.
“I think I can manage that,” she said. “I’ll ask Midoriya who he’s been getting his upgrades from, he’s been updating his costume a lot lately.”
“My h- Hizashi, fuck, Present Mic,” Aizawa stumbled over his words and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Present Mic recently got his hearing aids revamped by a support student, Hatsume Mei, if I remember correctly. That’s also who the problem child goes too, so I’d ask her, I’m sure she’d love to help.”
Momo smiled and nodded her understanding at her teachers. She felt a lot better now that she had a plan in place.
After quickly discussing the students who were bothering her—apparently Midnight recognized them from their descriptions—her teachers stood up to leave. Midnight left first, saying something about needing to grade some papers. Aizawa stood in the doorway for a moment, and Momo stood uncertainly beside her bed.
“I meant what I said, problem child,” he said finally. He looked up at the ceiling for a moment. “I won’t let those girls keep bullying you. I was bullied a lot in high school, not for the same reasons as you, obviously, but it still bothered me. I always wished someone had done something for me,” he said. He turned to leave, but hesitated in the doorway again.
“Dealing with it by yourself sucks, so if you ever need to talk, I’m around.”
“Thank you, sensei,” she said, voice soft. She bowed slightly to her teacher, and he smiled at her again before he finally left her room, shutting the door quietly behind him.
Momo looked down at the sheets of paper Midnight and Aizawa had left behind. She hadn’t noticed before, but he’d drawn something on the back of the paper. She flipped it over and smiled when she saw a drawing of a cat sleeping on top of a pile of red fabric. She tucked the papers into a notebook on her bedside table and sat down to write out everything she hoped Hatsume could help her with when designing her hero costume.