Chapter Text
"Do you think he particularly… dislikes me?"
Both Cementoss and Thirteen stop chewing to look at you.
The bustling cafeteria of U.A. High serves as the backdrop to your conversation, students happily chatting with their friends and walking between tables. The wonderful smell of freshly cooked lunch wafted from the kitchen doors and danced from one tray to another in every kid's arms.
This same delicious smell accompanied you to the spot that you shared with both hero teachers. Steamy bowls of Katsudon in front of all of you, and a small tray of tempura shrimp that Ishiyama had brought along. Half of his bowl is gone, and there's no trace of the pork cutlet. On the other side, Kurose's rice is gone, and most of the pork cutlet is left.
Your food is mostly untouched.
"Why would you think that?" she says mid-chew, surprise seeping through her voice. You hear her food crunch before she swallows to keep talking. "Has he said anything to you?"
"He hasn't, no."
Your chopsticks keep poking away at the plate.
"I guess it's more that… I don't think he wants to say anything to me."
"Is that something bad?" Ishiyama says this time, preparing his next bite as he looks at you.
"Maybe not…"
Thirteen gives you an earnest smile that closes her eyes. You can almost feel her beaming.
"Oh well, that's just normal Eraser! He's not a guy of many words."
Cementoss nods at her.
Your eyes drop back to your plate. Indeed, you haven't known each other properly for long, and he seems like the type of person to keep to himself. Already known for not getting along with the media or wanting any attention, makes sense that he'd be somehow guarded in a professional setting as well.
"You're new to the group, and it might take some a while longer to warm up to you."
It's Kurose's time to nod.
For the past 3 weeks, you've been working closely with U.A.'s Heroics Department. The aftermath of the war has started to settle, and Principal Nezu wanted to make a couple of changes. Your previous position used to be as his Administrative Assistant, organizing school affairs and his personal schedule. Direct interactions with the various educators of the academy were very limited, happening only on special occasions.
You already knew everyone by name.
And birthday.
And a couple of schedule details.
Your quirk, "Keen Eye", granted you a remarkable ability to perceive the patterns and details of the world around you, paired with a greatly enhanced memory. Having a role such as the one you did in an educational setting worked wonders. As a side benefit, you've had no trouble absorbing the professors' names, patrol schematics, availability, and some of their preferences. It made everything a little easier when transferring to their established group.
Thirteen and Cementoss turned out to be your quickest friends. Kurose's gentle personality and Ishiyama's flat, but welcoming behavior made for a good connection.
In stark contrast to Vlad's overbearing enthusiasm and Mic's excitability, they were the calm lake next to the roaring river. It might take some time to get used to their energy.
You haven't seen Ectoplasm or Snipe around the office too frequently. You've been arranging their schedules to accommodate their recent absence, most likely related to damage control patrols for the remaining sparks of the conflict.
There's also Mr. Yagi. All Might himself. Not being the Number 1 Hero anymore didn't take away any of the reverence you felt towards him, and you think this to be the case for all your colleagues as well. He's kind and understanding, but it still makes you a little nervous to approach him in such a casual manner.
Then, you have him.
Eraser.
You're not too sure what to make of him. You've read his information, you've interacted a couple of times, and you know almost as much about him as you do of any of the other teachers.
But for some reason, you can't really approach him.
"Is there a particular reason why this bothers you?"
You finally raise your eyes from your plate, popping a stripe of the breaded cutlet into your mouth.
You're making time while you think.
Why is this bothering you?
Why is he different?
You keep munching, simply shaking your head and following it with a shrug.
"I'd just like for all of you to see me in a positive light."
"I don't think he sees you in a negative one." Replies Cementoss, ever objective.
And even then, it shouldn't be a problem.
Nobody will ever be liked by everyone. Certain personalities clash, and some people just can't seem to get along with each other outside of what's necessary of them in various situations.
"I guesh I wash just a litl curioush," the words form in your mouth between the rice in a small hurry, a hand covering your lips as you chew, "Nothing to be worried about."
Your coworkers nod at you in sync, each tending to their respective lunches.
Thirteen finishes the last of her meat and proceeds to put her helmet back on, clearing her throat.
"I know! You should come by to the next Heroics outing!"
Cementoss points his finger at her, a motion to say "good idea".
"You are a part of the group now, after all. It'd be a great opportunity to get a little closer with everyone."
The prospect of growing the size of your social circle and hanging out with your colleagues raises your spirits as you finish your meal.
It's exciting!
A bit scary, but it sounds fun. The years working under the principal made your workplace relationships be mainly just you and him.
A little lonely.
Before your mind could wander to how he was doing, something shifts in the scenery around you. A shadow pops out from the sea of grey uniforms and red ties.
A black shape scurries from one side of the cafeteria to the next, hunched back and loose hair. Eraserhead.
Tangled into his binding cloth appears the one and only Nezu, who somehow notices you as well from the other corner of the room. You send him a smile. He raises his hand and waves at you enthusiastically while he keeps conversing with the underground hero.
Eraser likely feels the movement beside him and looks in your direction. He offers you a small nod as his greeting before exiting the space.
You see? A normal interaction.
Nothing to muddle over.
At all.
Ishiyama eats the last tempura shrimp in one bite, the rest of them seemingly having been devoured while you were swimming in your thoughts.
"You should ask Mic to add you to our shared message chat."
"Right, the group!" Kurose stands up, sweeping leftover crumbs off her hero suit with her chunky gloves. "It's already been a couple of weeks, I think you should've been there a while ago!"
You can't help but wave your hands in front of you in a bit of a panic.
"Are you sure it's alright? I wouldn't want to overstep." You stand up too, smoothing the wrinkles of your shirt in downward motions. Having your hands busy distracts you from your newfound nerves.
"Nonsense." Cementoss waves his hand in a dismissive motion, "He should have a bit of a break next period. You can ask him then."
———
The sun shines bright in the middle of the sky, a usual sight for an afternoon in late summer. You can only imagine how hot it is outside the building, silent thanks to the air conditioning filling your mind. Light peeks between the blinds behind you, painting your workspace with yellow stripes.
This also makes it a bit harder to see your screen, making your eyes focus on your reflection over it instead. You look alright. Light eye bags are sure to accompany you due to your sleeping habits, but you're put-together. You feel like it, too. Professional. Your leg bounces underneath the desk, anxious to ask a question that shouldn't even be that big of a deal.
The teachers' office is quiet.
Mostly quiet.
Thirteen has just left for the infirmary to check on a student who injured themselves in their last lesson. Besides her, it had only been you and Present Mic on your respective computers. He's your front neighbour. You can see his tall, blonde hair swaying to the movement of his head, probably following a song he must be listening to. Eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed, he seems to be immersed in his own world.
You delete the email you've been drafting. "Drafting" used lightly, as you've kept continuously writing and deleting the subject matter.
Just be casual.
What's the worst that could happen?
"Actually, you're not fun enough to hang out with us. Sorry. No group chat access for you." Yeah right.
Your seat screeches when you finally stand up, catching Mic's attention. He raises his head and watches you as you approach him. His seat rolls back, and he makes a finger gun sign at you with his right hand, a cheerful smile on his face.
"What's up Admin?"
Admin has been his nickname for you ever since you transferred. Quite frankly, it made you feel welcome. Going by your hero name would've been strange, as it is one you didn't use much. You're not really active in the field anymore.
You try to make some conversation.
"How's your day been?"
Standard.
He sighs and stretches his hands to the front, the leather of his jacket squeaking with the movement.
"Oh y'know, never a dull moment! But everything's great." He sings the last sentence to the tune of a popular track from the radio.
He lowers his orange shades with the finger he used to do the gun, green eyes inspecting your face with light curiosity.
"Anything you need?"
"Ah, yes. Well," You scratch the back of your hand, keeping your fingers busy. "I was with Thirteen and Cementoss at lunch earlier."
He listens.
"They mentioned a group chat that you guys have. Something about inviting me to come with you to the next outing you plan."
You can instantly feel his shift in demeanor. His arms raise, and you could swear his face shines.
"YES. ABSOLUTELY."
You can't help but mirror his enthusiasm, raising your own hands in the air in celebration.
A thought gets to you, interrupting your small moment of glee.
"Is it okay with everyone? For me to go to that sort of thing. I mean."
He seems taken aback.
"Why wouldn't it be? All of us like you."
You scratch the back of your ankle with your shoe.
You're making time as you think.
"Does anyone in particular not vibe with you?"
Ugh.
"No! No. I think."
He gives you space to organize your thoughts.
"Do you think Eraser's good with me?"
His eyebrows shoot to the sky.
"Shouta? Of course!"
"…did he say something that-"
"No. No. I'm just-"
Overthinking.
"I think I just don't know how to talk to him."
Mic shrugs.
"He doesn't really help with that, that's for sure…"
His image slowly comes to focus in your mind. The intensity of his gaze, his messy hair. His tall frame, despite his slouched stance. The way you feel the words die in your throat, struggling to find a way to speak to him.
"I definitely botched our first interaction."
He laughs.
"Come on, it couldn't be that bad."
"It was!"
You drag a hand down your face, unable to stop yourself from joining him in his laughter.
"I said something along the lines of being goggle buddies. Or eye partners."
What was I thinking?
You raise your other hand, covering your face in shame.
"Because you know. Our quirks and whatnot."
"I think he just. Nodded."
You shift your weight from one leg to another, unsure about what to do with yourself.
"I just don't want him to think I'm stupid."
"I'm sure he doesn't! He's just kinda dry like that, it's fine. Really."
You peek at him between your fingers.
He nods vigorously, pointed hair shaking with his head once again.
Awfully fixated on this, aren't you?
"Gimme a sec. I'll add you to the group in no time."
He pulls out his phone. The back of the case is lined with the same silvery studs he has on his hero jacket, but smaller. It feels like a mini him.
He confirms your number, and not a second later, your phone vibrates on your side of the desk.
"Success!"
Back in the pocket it goes.
"As soon as Snipe's and Ectoplasm's schedules are a little looser, we will be doing something. Stay tuned!"
He graces you with a double thumbs-up. His enthusiasm is infectious. You do the same.
You feel the effect of his previous words, and your shoulders relax.
He's Eraser's best friend! Or at least the closest thing to it. If he says everything's good with you, then everything's good with you.
"Thank you. Really."
"It's not a big deal. We're excited to know you better, too."
The room is all smiles, good mood almost palpable in the air.
"I'm going to get a drink from the vending machine. Want anything?" You offer.
He claps once.
"Ooh, if they have the mango soda," -he shakes his hands together imitating a prayer- "PLEASE, get me one of those. That'd be awesome."
You turn to the door. Right before you're at a distance close enough to grab the handle, you realize it's actively being pushed towards you, just early enough to back away from it.
Like some cosmic coincidence, he's there.
He's looking away from the entrance, most likely finishing some sort of interaction. It must be Nezu. You get to see the bun on the back of his head, tying half of his hair up. You think it looks nice. His ever-tired face turns to you before he comes in. For a moment, you seem to be frozen in place.
"Afternoon."
His voice sounds raspy from use today. Four lectures in a row and a conversation with the principal will do that to you.
"Afternoon."
Your voice sounds like you learned how to speak mere days ago.
He steps forward and stops by the end of the door. It takes you longer than you'd like to admit to notice that he's holding it open for you.
"Ah. Thank you."
Your legs guide you to the exit, convinced that your brain was left behind in front of your computer.
If you never do anything, nothing will change.
Small steps.
You turn around fast, shoe soles squeaking against the polished floor tiles.
"Actually-!"
His pale fingers catch the end of the door right before it shuts, his head peeking out. His eyebrow raises, asking you in silence.
"I was getting some drinks from the vending machine."
Your bravery is evaporating.
"Would you… like anything?"
Silence stretches, him staring right into your eyes. You fight the urge to break contact, scrutinized under his gaze.
"I'm alright."
You probably imagined it, but his voice feels different. Softer. You can hear the faint noise of his free hand scratching the side of his chin.
"I get coffee from the machine here in the office after lunch."
You know that, you've seen him. How did you forget that?
"Thank you, though."
You hum, and a shy smile takes place on your lips before you can think. With that, you proceed on your walk over to the machine.
Small steps!