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It starts with a scream. Except not really. It starts the very moment Midoriya walks into his classroom; but Shouta couldn’t have known that yet back then.
Ergo, a scream.
Shouta jolts from his nap on the floor before the sound truly registers in his brain. When it does, he unconsciously relaxes. It’s not the blood-curdling scream of pain he knows so well. Neither is it a yell of a criminal, loud and enraged as it is.
It’s just Bakugou.
Shouta’s brows furrow just as he’s about to snuggle deeper into his sleeping bag. He blinks, narrowing his eyes at the orange sunset light filling his classroom.
It’s just Bakugou; But Bakugou never stays this late. Shouta begrudgingly pushes his drowsy brain to concentrate, because whatever is going on, it can’t be good. Bakugou straying from his routine never is.
Now that he’s listening actively, Shouta can just barely make out sobs coming from- from under his podium? He forces himself not to react at the proximity just as Bakugou bangs the door open. And the kid - it sound like Midoriya, what the hell - Midoriya immediately stills, the sobs that must’ve been racking him dissolving into near unnatural silence. Shouta doesn’t want to think how or why the Problem Child learned to do that.
“The fuck are you, shitty Deku?!” Bakugou stomps into the classroom. Shouta’s eyes slip closed; he doesn’t want to interrupt this yet. It’s better to know what’s going on before he intervenes, unless the kids get physical first. “I fucking saw you come in here, fucking nerd. Get out and tell me what’s this shit I hear you talking about Auntie!”
Midoriya’s breath hitches, barely audible. Bakugou doesn’t seem to notice, busy shoving desks aside. Though, it sounds like he roughly straightens them immediately after. It’s a trait Shouta found surprising in the kid until he met his parents.
Bakugou pauses at the back of the classroom, a loud bang interrupting his string of curses - he must’ve hit the cabinets.
Damn it, they had just spoken about that.
Bakugou stays there, panting, murmuring something about checking the vents. That, Shouta decides, is enough. “Bakugou,” he says, stepping out of his bag. In the corner of his eye, he sees the Problem Child freeze.
“I’ll clean it up,” Bakugou growls, haunched over the cabinets. He refuses to look at him.
Shouta hums, “I had no doubts you would. But since I’m here, want to tell me what you’re doing?”
“I don’t gotta say shit to you”
His eyebrow ticks up. “Perhaps. But I did just find you cursing at the furniture and damaging school property. Do you recall the talk we had about Hound Dog?
Bakugou sneers, but otherwise seems to think through his response. After the sports festival, Shouta approached him regarding counseling, both for handling the ridiculous stunt Nemuri pulled, and, more quietly, his anger issues. (Seriously though, they’re lucky his parents didn’t sue the school, who does that? To a child, no less. Sure, Nedzu promised him she’d be joining All Might for extra training, but that doesn’t start until next semester) It wasn’t compulsory, so of course Bakugou ignored him. But he’s been warned further acting out may change that; and here he is.
“So?” Shouta prompts after a moment, figuring the kid needs another push.
Finally, Bakugou turns to him, fists clutching tightly at his sides, “I’m looking for Deku…sir”
The other eyebrow joins the first high on Shouta’s forehead. “It seems awfully late for either of you”
At that, Bakugou scoffs, “He’s been hiding from me since extra training. Wimp”
“Right. So you’ve been chasing him for hours. Why?”
A complicated expression passes over Bakugou’s face. “Teenage shit”
Normally that may have been enough to deter Shouta - he had enough teenage drama in his own youth, thank you very much. But it’s Bakugou, and it’s Midoriya, and Shouta very much doubts either of them stole the other’s girlfriend.
“Indulge me”
A moment passes. Bakugou bites his lips in a way that neatly mirrors Midoriya and Shouta once again wonders about their history. Then Bakugou sighs, raking his fingers through his hair. He looks genuinely distressed. Angry, yes, but not in his usual i’ll-kill-you way; more like Zashi, like the world is unfair, and not to him.
Shouta shifts his footing.
“Shit, fine. Look, Cheeks was droning on to Pinky about how Deku’s mom fucking, mistreats him, I dunno”
Blink. Well. That is certainly not what Shouta expected to hear. “Uraraka thinks Midoriya’s abused?”
Another scoff. “It’s bullshit. I’ve known the woman since diapers; she’s fucking besties with my ma. She wouldn’t even hurt a fly. Hell, she used to have Deku on a leash for years so he wouldn’t run off and get hurt! I want to know what kinda shitty lies is he spewing. Happy?” The last word is bitten out, harsh and contrasting with his shaking fists.
Shouta’s aware many parents leash their toddlers nowadays for that precise reason, but Bakugou’s wording still sets off the warning bells in his mind. He’ll have to talk to Uraraka - or better yet, the entire class - about whether and when it’s appropriate to share somebody’s circumstances with others. For now, he simply nods. And as Bakugou passes him on the way to the door, clearly taking it as dismissal, Shouta adds quietly, “I don’t know Midoriya’s situation, but physical violence isn’t the only form of abuse”
A tch is his only answer. That’s alright for today, Shouta supposes, already moving. He’s got another Problem Child to take care of now.
Shouta crouches in front of his podium and yep, there he is under the single shelf; the Problem Child, trembling, clutching his threadbare bag to his chest with a white-knuckled grip. Tears are clinging to his lashes and his lips are bitten to blood. He looks small, tired, not at all like the timid-but-brilliant student Shouta has come to know. He’s noticed the relationship between those two was bad, determined to keep an eye on it, but Midoriya has never seemed so scared; not even when Bakugou all but tried to kill him during that first exercise.
Distinctly aware of how the kid’s eyes are locked on his shoes, Shouta swallows a sigh, letting his posture relax, “Wanna tell me what was that about Prob-” a flinch. Fuck, “-Midoriya?”
To his credit, the boy answers immediately. That is to say, he mumbles something way too low and too slurred to be understood. Shouta can appreciate the effort, though - it seems like the kid has been having a really bad day.
“I’m sorry kiddo, I’m afraid I didn’t catch that”
Midoriya’s shoulder drop in resignation and Shouta suddenly recalls all the times Bakugou had given him shit about the mumbling. Midoriya clearly had hurtful experiences regarding the habit. Something to work on then. Now, damage control. “Truth be told, I didn’t sleep well last night - what I’m sure doesn’t surprise you. Forgive my uncaffeinated brain,” a tiny, near invisible smile twitches on Midoriya’s face. Good. Shouta continues, “So for both our sakes, I’m going to ask more specific questions, and I’d like you to answer a bit louder if you can. Deal?”
Midoriya’s eyes flicker up to him; still distrustful, but warm, and he gives a determined nod. An odd combination, like everything about this kid is, but Shouta will take it. He nods in return.
“First things first, are you actually hurt anywhere?”
A second of hesitation, then a slow headshake. Shouta’s eyes narrow. “You’re sure?”
At that, Problem Child flails his arms, “Just some t-t-train-training scrapes, promise!”
Shouta eyes him for a moment longer, but eventually relents. Good enough, for now. Midoriya is not as good at hiding his injuries as he thinks he is; if he’s hurt, Shouta will know before they leave the classroom. Onto the next one, “Why was Bakugou looking for you?”
“…”
A misunderstanding. It takes Shouta several long minute to convince Midoriya to talk, and he claims it’s a misunderstanding. In the back of his mind, Shouta is suddenly sure Nedzu’s fur was never actually white; he just went gray from dealing with this. Undoubtedly, the same fate awaits him as well.
“Midoriya,” he tries again, in his gentlest voice - which, to be fair, is probably not much better, “I choose to believe you haven’t just said that you had to fight off a panic attack under my desk - which you still haven’t left - over a misunderstanding.”
Instead of answering, Midoriya scrambles up. Rather, tries to, shaky as he is, and Shouta immediately raises a hand to stop him. “If it helps, stay. I don’t mind, just making an observation. Now, I’m inclined to believe Bakugou misunderstood you. What I don’t see is why you’d react this way if that were the case”
And damn, clearly not the right thing to say. Again. Midoriya’s face morphs halfway into a scowl before it freezes with nerves. This time, Shouta can’t help his sigh. He doesn’t understand this kid. It’s like Midoriya does everything he can to skirt the edges of his perception. But if there is one thing Shouta knows about him, it’s that Midoriya’s hero worship extends to his classmates. Especially Bakugou, for some godforsaken reason. Probably not the best approach, but it’s the only one Shouta expects to work before the boy works himself back into the panic.
“Look, kid. We both want to go home,” he waits for Midoriya to nod, “but I’ve got to report this, which means I need to know what happened. Help me out here. If not for your sake, then for Bakugou’s. I’d hate to suspend him over a misunderstanding,” then, because Midoriya is the one of the class to actively enjoy Hizashi’s quips, he adds, “ya dig?”
A smile twitches on his face and timidly, Midoriya starts talking. Stuttering and quiet, but thoroughly and from the start, he explains the situation, pushing ice into Shouta’s veins with every word. Fuck, Uraraka was right to be worried. And if not for Bakugou, Shouta would never know.
“And Uraraka-san was t-talking about how she got in trouble as a kid, right,” Midoriya’s still going, stutter easing a bit now that he started going on a rant. “So I told her my mom wouldn’t let me do that, people like, like me just can’t just go off on our own like that, it’s dangerous, and so she’d lock me in my room sometimes, right? When I di-didn’t listen. But I must’ve said it wrong because Uraraka-san got worried, and then…then…”
“Then Bakugou,” Shouta finishes for him, biting back his own worry. Midoriya nods silently, frustrated tears prickling at his eyes.
“Right,” Shouta heaves himself up. “Thank you. I’d like us to have a talk about your mother soon, though. For now, you’re free to stay or go as you please. I’ll be over there with the incident report,” he takes the paperwork from the shelf above Midoriya, jabbing his thumb towards the corner he left his bag in.
Midoriya blanches, scrambling to his knees, “W-why?! She hasn’t done anything! She-she’s a great mom!”
Shouta very much doubts somebody who locks their 12-year-old up because they went out without asking first is a great parent, but alas. Outwardly, he only blinks, “Just a formality”
“For-for the report?”
Shouta makes a so-so gesture, “As heroes, we must investigate such things”
Midoriya twists his hands nervously. Shouta eyes the gesture, but ultimately puts a pin in it. “She won’t get in tro-trouble, right?”
Shouta grins, unnerving and maniacal, exactly what the kid is used to, “She’s a great mom, no? It’s just a talk”
For now.
Midoriya beams, rushing to his feet. “Ye-yeah! Thank you, sensei! …ah, I don’t…have to tell her…?”
When Shouta shakes his head, Midoriya thanks him again, bows, and all bolts from the classroom. Shouta lets his grin fall, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Trouble really clings to this kid, doesn’t it? Maybe Zashi will let him get the good coffee at least.
Hopefully, this logical ruse will end up unneeded.