Chapter Text
Class B’s defeat is crushing for them all. The combat was exhausting, but Neito’s day extends beyond the end of the training. He must ensure Class A doesn’t get too conceited about their scraped-by victory (dang that Izuku, having a blank quirk and bursting out with some freaking new power, and curse that Katsuki, being smart enough to better himself and actually give a flip about his own classmates for once), assure his friends they don’t need to wallow in their defeat (Neito should’ve done more, fought smarter, encouraged them more) and they can absolutely best that detestable Class A next time (because they are capable, strong, and deserve to be recognized), update his PC database of Class A’s quirks and weaknesses (he’s not sure how he feels that he has as much on Class A as his own classmates, but it’s because he spends extra paragraphs detailing ways his class can defeat them), and then he must explain his humiliating loss to Mom.
In the B dorm common room Neito flops gracefully on a couch after having completed his first two objectives. There isn’t a logical reason to delay the phone call to Mom, but he’s selfishly not ready to hear from her how much he’s disappointed her. Not yet.
Pony trots into the common room munching a yellow apple. “Neito, you look foot-dead.”
“You mean dead on my feet,” Neito corrects before he registers the actual meaning. “Hey! I do not! I am very lively! And I’m sitting.” Pony tilts her head cutely, and Neito has to wonder how much is intentionally “so-sorry-I-can’t-understand-English” with her at times.
“Well, yer sure talkin loud,” Juzo says. He’s on the opposite couch and massaging Yosetsu’s shoulders. “But that ain’t meaning you don’t look awful tired.”
“I don’t have time to be tired yet.” Neito gestures with his arms and ignores the twinging in his whole upper body. Using quirks is often painful. Fatiguing at the least.
Juzo wrinkles his brow. “Ya don’t? Ain’t it over for tonight? Ya gave us all a pep-talk and trashed Class A until Teacher Vlad was about to haul you off by yer ear. Ya did a full day’s work!” He laughs, his protruding teeth clacking gleefully. Neito’s tense smile eases a bit. Juzo’s easygoing attitude can be problematic in combat when he ought to be more take-charge (ahem ahem, Tetsutetsu) but he’s usually pleasant to be around in stressful times.
“I must compile all the data I’ve gotten from this training,” Neito says.
“Ooh! You’re gonna have lots more for your quirk log!” Pony skips her feet. Neito will have new data about Class A, improvements for Class B, and the entirely new log for Hitoshi Shinso whom Neito can’t wait to join the hero course.
Shihai, standing at the edge of the common room, fidgets and grins sheepishly. “Please write…plenty about Fumikage and Dark Shadow. My fellow...friends of the abyss.”
“They arrogantly curb-stomp us and we somehow befriend them now?” Neito snaps more sharply than he means to.
Juzo sighs breathily. “Chill, man.”
“Chill? Unlike some people, I can’t afford that,” Neito says. It’s rude and he knows it.
Juzo stops massaging Yosetsu for a moment.
“Don’t take that attitude,” Yosetsu grumbles. He’d be more snappish if Juzo’s massage hadn’t lulled him half-asleep. “Juzo didn’t lose his match. Unlike you.”
Neito probably deserved that quip, but his anger and shame flares up hot and gripping. “Unlike you too.”
Yosetsu’s eyes snap open. Juzo raises a hand. “Hey now—”
“In fact, I don’t have time for this either. I have to tell my mom that I failed again, so I don’t need to be reminded one more time by anybody. Good night.” Neito springs up, avoiding everyone’s eyes and the stunned looks they’re certainly giving him, and speed-walks up to the bedrooms. He knows he will absolutely regret what he’s done, he will deeply apologize tomorrow, but he’s too—upset to care at this second.
(It’s so aggravating. When they look at Class A, don’t they ever just feel so pathetic and inadequate? Doesn’t it burn them up inside to be acutely reminded of their losses? So why do they not understand that soundly beating Class A and not getting buddy-buddy with them will prove their worth? Of course they’re better and have worth, it’s just they need a chance to show it.)
In his room he makes a start on today’s data. An hour later he’s unable to focus knowing Mom will be waiting for a call. If he had won, the call would be short and easy. Since he lost, it will be stinging. And it’ll be the last talk with her he’ll get for at least a week. Mom will be so disappointed she won’t look his way for days. She might refuse to buy him anything for a while too. At least he’s stocked up his allowance. He grabs his phone, winces at the missed call, Mom, notification, and jabs the call button.
“You certainly took your time,” Mom says before he even says hi. “It’s quite late now. I’ll have to sleep soon since I have an important meeting tomorrow. But I could hardly sleep without knowing how you did today! Well? How was it?”
Neito swallows and hates that he’ll dampen her cheerful mood. Just like the Sports Festival. Just like summer training camp. She’ll regret that she even wasted her time calling. “Class B…won two of five matches.”
There’s a short pause. “So your class lost,” Mom says. “Did you and your own team win, at least?”
“N—No. The one Class A guy’s quirk was a blank and then he gained new—”
“You yourself lost?” Mom says disbelievingly.
Neito winces and regrets that he wasn’t (isn’t, has never been, might never be) good enough. “Yes…”
Mom sighs. “You always get too confident, don’t you? Or maybe just not using your quirk well enough.” Her disappointment is tangible. Even through the phone it’s a thick smoke that stuffs up Neito’s throat and stings his eyes. “Have you accomplished anything that goes beyond the other hero students and shown them you’re not a mere one among forty? Besides, of course,” she lets out a little laugh, “being the only one of your class to fail the midterm exams.”
Neito laughs too even though it hurts a bit. She’s just teasing, and it’s only truth, so he swallows and says, “I…have. I took down two villains last week.”
“Yes, you told me,” Mom says. Right. He’s just making excuses, he supposes. Because his classmates and Class A have been taking down villains too. Class A took them down since the fourth day of school. The two Neito got were only petty thugs, but he sure was proud to capture them himself (of course using Jurota’s and Ibara’s quirks). “Neito, you’re capable. Those people who say your quirk can’t be for hero work are idiots. You know that.” Neito’s constricted chest eases a tiny bit. Mom has always been supportive of his “secondary” quirk, unlike his middle school teachers and classmates. “Go beyond your best. I know you have it in you, my genius boy. Don’t you?”
“Yes, I do,” Neito says.
“So you’ll do your best now, right? No more failing.”
“I won’t…fail,” Neito says, and prays that it’ll be the truth.
“Okay then. Don’t you dare get beaten by inferior people.” The phone clicks off. Mom doesn’t say “good night” or “do well in classes tomorrow” when she’s mad.
Neito lets his phone droop to the ground. Yeah. She won’t talk to him for at least a whole week now. But that’s understandable. He had no reason to fail. He shouldn’t use the excuse that Izuku got a new power or that Bakugo changed too much. Neito is supposed to be good enough to not be stopped by that.
After a while Neito gets up and continues his data-logging until well past midnight. He’s never late to appointments or school, but that doesn’t mean he falls asleep when he should. Maybe he and Hitoshi can commiserate their insomnia sometime, if Hitoshi’s eye-bags do mean he has insomnia, Neito muses as he finally crawls into bed at 3:14.