Chapter Text
With incredible speed, Hitoshi swung from one tree to the other in hopes of trying to fully master what was Aizawa-sensei’s capture scarf. After losing that last round during the joint training, he couldn’t help but linger at the forest that he worked his ass off in just to feel he accomplished something.
Sore muscles tore at him with a sharp ache while balancing on one of the trees with the cloth. He immediately lost his balance, landing on a patch of piled up leaves that were gathering up on the grass.
Honestly, Hitoshi shouldn’t be distracted soreness. He knows better than that. What would he do if he was actually wounded during battle? Heroes fight to the death to protect, right? He huffs, looking at some branches that fell off while he was going from tree to tree. He’d better be more careful, too. The scarf was not only for capturing, but for rescuing.
Checking at the time, he sees it’s about seven-thirty. Did time actually pass by that fast...? He’d wanted to have a quick shower before attempting to sleep, so he hurried out of the woods back to the main campus. Wiping off sweat from his forehead and pushing a bit of his lavender hair back, he reached the dorms fairly fast. Well, not his dorms. He was in the entrance of the very first dorm building, where a flash of pale blonde hair startled him.
What was Monoma doing at the 1-A dorms..? From what he gathered at the joint training, he hated the class.
Monoma looked up from whatever he was doing, catching Hitoshi staring at him. He immediately smirked, putting his hands on his hips.
His hands.
A heavy feeling of dread pooled at his chest. What he had said during their match…
We’re so similar.
In what way? Did Monoma somehow notice that the scars on his face weren’t from a villain attack? (that they were from a muzzle–) He wouldn’t put it past him, the guy was smart. Monoma’s quirk was activated by touch. Monoma pointed at his hands while he said that. He was looking at Hitoshi’s scars. Did he know? Has he also gone through the stuff Hitoshi has? (have people also fucked up his life–?)
“Hey.”
Hitoshi looks up. Monoma looks somewhat annoyed, but has a brow raised.
“Yeah, I know they’re ugly. Your staring doesn’t help,” Monoma sighs and raises both of his hands up to his face, as if inspecting them. Hitoshi doesn’t respond, too busy at being given a chance to really look at them.
Every tip of each finger was covered in a burn scar, as if it was on purpose so he couldn’t touch or make a fingerprint. His palms were covered in scars shaped like a claw ran through them, and the top of his hands were a mix of burns and clawing. Did someone do this to him?
Whatever. It wasn’t his business.
He looked back up at Monoma, who was giving him a small smile.
“Those 1-A idiots invited my class for dinner to discuss the training we did today. And well, since you were part of it, I thought I’d invite you if I saw you. So what do you say, Shinsou?”
He really didn’t want to socialize with anyone, but well… he was pretty hungry after all that extra training. As if on cue, his stomach growled. Monoma just laughed as a small pink dusted Hitoshi’s cheeks, his expression souring.
“Fine,” was all he said. Monoma started walking back as soon as he opened his mouth, and Hitoshi reluctantly followed. For the sake of not being hungry, I guess.
Monoma loudly opened the doors, making himself visible.
“You 1-A losers forgot to invite one of us. Seriously, I can’t believe you guys would not remember about someone that so importantly contributed to our training. I’m not even surprised—” A flurry of people saying sorry and greeting Hitoshi distracted him from Monoma’s words. He gave them a half-assed greeting before a clump of messy green hair took over his vision.
“Hey Shinsou! I-I’m sorry we didn’t invite you! We just didn’t have your number and by the time we planned this we were already out of class, and nobody really knew where you went—” Midoriya bowed slightly and kept rambling. He furrowed his brows in awkwardness.
“You don’t have to apologize. I don't really care,” He looked over to Monoma, who was still ranting about class 1-A. He seemed to be about a second away from getting Kendo-chopped, so he got closer to him and pulled at the back of the blonde’s collar to make him stop. “I’m pretty hungry, though. You can make it up to me by giving me some dinner.”
Midoriya came to a stop and quickly gave him a smile. “Of course! Follow me, we actually just got done with some stew!”
Hitoshi complied and followed Midoriya, dragging a smug Monoma along with him. It seemed like his pride was satiated as he finished chewing out class 1-A for not giving him an invite.
They got to the kitchen and Hitoshi let go of Monoma. Immediately, he was given two plates of steaming stew, so he handed one to Monoma and they both sat down.
…
“You think they poisoned yours?” Hitoshi asks, jokingly. His heart rate increases, just realizing he asked a question. It’s okay, it’s fine. He was at the dorms.
“Ha! as if they’d have the guts,” Monoma boasted. “I bet they don’t even know how to properly poison someone.”
Hitoshi rolled his eyes at that, masking a sigh, relieved Monoma didn’t mention anything. “As if you’d know.”
Monoma rolls his eyes right back at him, looking away. Hitoshi smirks. The both of them are about done with dinner before a tall figure approaches where they’re sitting.
“Well if it isn’t tentacles from class 1-A?” Monoma’s eyes flashed with mischief. Hitoshi sent him a glare. Monoma sighs, defeated.
“Fine, fine. I’ll play nice. What is it?” He looks up at Shoji, who looks a bit unsure.
“If you don’t mind, could I talk to you?” Shoji questioned in a low voice. He had his front octo-arms crossed, making it seem like he was grim. Monoma had a confused look on his face, which quickly turned into confidence.
“Ha, well I suppose I can make time for your questions!-”
“What he means is that yes, you can talk to him,” Hitoshi interrupts, giving Shoji an apologetic look. Shoji nods.
“Please follow me,” is all Shoji says before he starts making way to a more secluded area of the room. Monoma makes a face at Hitoshi before he goes on to follow Shoji.
Hitoshi snorts, bidding him goodbye.
When Monoma has gone off to another section of the room is when people start to approach him. Kaminari speaks first.
“Man, I didn’t notice you and Monoma were so close. Didn’t you just meet today like the rest of us?”
Hitoshi nods. He didn’t notice either, but the words he said to him at training made him want to get to know him.
“Anyway, what did Shoji even want with Monoma?”
Hitoshi shrugs.
Mezou’s leg bounced up and down as he stared at the screen in which they were displaying the fifth match of the joint training. Those words from Monoma…that couldn’t be it, right? He fidgeted with his mask, anxiously waiting for the match to end. Up and down, up and down, a habit he’s earned ever since he was a kid.
Obviously, he knew multiple people that had gotten misjudged because of their quirk, but that they could relate to him..? Monoma certainly didn’t look to be from a village, however appearances could deceive, and Mezou was desperate for someone to talk to about his past without getting judged.
After the end of the match, he tried to get his attention. However, Monoma seemed to stick with Kendo and Tetsutetsu.
In the locker rooms, his class suggested dinner to talk about training, and Mezou agreed. That’s when he would talk to him about it. However, when he got there with the rest of class 1-B, Monoma was immediately the center of attention. It’d be weird, right? just tell him he wants to talk in the middle of bickering with someone from Mezou’s class.
So he waited.
About an hour later, Monoma stepped inside with the new kid from the joint training. This was his chance. After they finished dinner, Mezou approached them. Monoma went with him, if not a bit reluctantly.
So, he was here now.
Monoma’s hand went up to his neck, an untrusting expression almost making Mezou want to swallow his words and go hole up in his room.
“So what is it, tentacles?”
They were near the stairs leading up to everyone’s rooms. Everyone was near the kitchen or living room, so Mezou and Monoma were alone.
“What you said during your match while training… something about being, cursed. What did that mean? I’ve been thinking about it, and I feel like something that could relate to me,” Mezou’s octo-mouth stops for a moment, then continues,”I just don’t know what context you meant it in.”
Mezou looks down for a moment and catches sight of Monoma’s hands. Right. He’d been planning to ask about that too.
“...does what you said also have to do with your hands too?” Mezou queried. Monoma tenses at that, stance suddenly turning defensive.
“What right do you have to ask me about this? It’s not like you would know anything of it. Seriously, can you guys get any worse?” Monoma’s tone of voice began to get a bit louder. A few people turned to look at them, and a cold sweat ran down Mezou’s back.
Have I been too forward?
“No, Monoma. That’s not it at all. I just wondered–” Mezou gets cut off by a fuming Monoma.
“No, you don’t get to wonder. It’s not any of your business to pull me aside just to talk to me about that! And oh, trust me. You wouldn’t relate.”
The blonde’s eyes narrowed, looking at Mezou with a blistering expression. He was snarling at him.
More people were staring now.
“Guess I shouldn’t have expected any more from you nosy class A people. I’m going now. Don’t waste my time just for it to be this crap again,” Monoma promptly stormed out of the dorms, slamming the door while at it. All the eyes that were previously on Monoma were on Mezou now. He felt asphyxiated by them.
Sero took the chance to break the ice.
“Dude, what just happened? Why was Monoma so pissed off at you?”
Mezou sighs.
“We came to a bit of a disagreement. I apologize for the outburst,” he takes a glance at what is about Forty people staring at him. “I’ll be going to my room now.”
A bit dizzy, Mezou goes up the stairs quickly. He can hear the shuffling of people going in and exiting the dorms. It was almost curfew anyway, and he guesses the argument that they had (so one sided he wondered if it really was one) had ruined the mood. A pang of regret stabs him in the gut as he finally gets to his room. He didn’t get the chance to explain himself, to clarify that he did understand how he felt. Mezou couldn’t be mad at Monoma for thinking he would just pity him.
Mezou sighed, plopping down on the bed earlier than he usually would. His thoughts were swayed by a confident knock at the door, in which he stood up to greet. Opening the door and looking down, he was surprised to see Tokoyami and Dark Shadow behind him.
“May I come in?” Tokoyami prodded. Immediately, he gave in. He couldn’t say no to him.
Opening the door wider, he let Tokoyami and his companion into his room.
Hitoshi really should have stopped Monoma from talking with Shoji the second the tall boy approached them. Now he was outside, being interrogated by Kendo while the others in 1-B were heading back to their dorm. It was getting pretty chilly too, so he just wanted to lay in bed and forget about whatever happened.
“You do know I have to go back to my dorms, right? and I told you. I don’t know what they were talking about. Shoji probably just wanted to talk to him about the match, and Monoma got mad at him because he was in class 1-A and he had no right to talk about a match he didn’t take place in. Stupid, I know, but it makes sense. It 's Monoma ,” Hitoshi crossed his arms and Kendo sighed.
“I don’t know. Maybe you’re right. I’ll scold him tomorrow about it… Thanks Shinsou, sorry about all the trouble.”
Amused, Hitoshi raises his eyebrows.
“It's fine. I’ll be going now.”
Kendo goes back inside the 1-A dorms to give her goodbyes, and Shinsou makes a run for it. He didn’t want to deal with small talk if Kendo decided to walk with him.
He was curious, though. What had made him so mad?
Hitoshi raised a hand to his face, touching his scars. Memories flooded back as he was helpless on the floor, beaten–
No. Shut up. Don’t think about that.
Hitoshi gave himself a smack to the face, trying to get his thoughts to stray away from that memory. It bothered him, though. Not knowing if Monoma was the same as him.
Silently wishing that he got those scars in some type of freak accident, he finally got to the first year’s General Studies dorm. He shoved his ID to the side of the door, scanning it so it could grant him access.
And then his ears picked up a weak meow and his heart melted.
A small, orange kitten with pale blue eyes was staring at him. It was so skinny.
With no hesitation, he picked the furball up, cradling it in his arms. It didn't struggle, instead making itself comfortable right away in Hitoshi’s arms.
…Whoever made the no pets rule in his dorm can go fuck themselves. He was definitely keeping this cat until it was better. He immediately rushed to his room to scavenge whatever could be made into kitty supplies.
He found a bowl of cereal with milk from this morning, which was mostly just milk. Putting the bowl and the cat down, he nudged him over to the bowl. The kitty began to drink out of it with small, fast licks, making Hitoshi chuckle.
(And if the cat reminded him the slightest bit of Monoma because of the coloring, he’d call himself stupid for thinking about him. He isn’t blushing. He swears he isn’t!)