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Once upon a time there was a little blond boy with the heart of a hero and the quirk of a thief.
“This is outrageous!” his father had boomed the day they’d returned from the doctor; his angry fist slamming down onto the kitchen counter so hard that Neito had almost fallen over in shock. “A quirk like that in a boy like him? How the hell would we ever be able to prove whether he’d copied something or not??”
He’d shaken his head as he’d seethed, his fists clenching tight against the granite. “We’ve got to find a way to keep him honest!”
“And we will,” his mother had murmured, laying a calming hand on top of her husband’s. “Let me make a few phone calls, I’m sure we can figure something out.”
And little Monoma Neito had stood there in the doorway, silent, forgotten, and uncertain of what exactly he’d done wrong and how he could possibly fix it.
“Nei-Nei okay?” his baby sister had asked, toddling up to him with childlike concern and poking at his trembling hand with a single pudgy finger.
“Y-Yes,” Neito had croaked, clearing his throat hard before trying again.
“I’m okay.”
It was the last lie he’d been able to tell for a very long time.
***
Kendou Itsuka has known Monoma Neito for a good little while now, long enough to know that he’s definitely what you’d call a strange little egg.
He can’t seem to keep his mouth shut for even a second, his insults and inner thoughts flying out of his mouth in ugly strings of words faster than Itsuka can stop them.
And stop them she does, every single time. She can instinctively tell when his words are approaching the line, always rushing to cut Monoma off before he can actually cross it.
It’s a self-assigned job she’d taken up practically on the first day of school and it’s annoying really, to have to work this hard, protecting Class B’s reputation by the skin of her teeth every damn day.
She’d begged him so many times to tone it down, to fake a smile, or even just to shut the fuck up.
He’d simply stared back at her, his eyes doing something complicated before he’d silently turned away.
“I can’t.”
The words had been soft, quieter and delivered more calmly than anything she’d ever heard from him before.
Itsuka had merely sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose in aggravation. “Then for the love of god can you just look the other way, pretend you didn’t see them, and not say anything at all?”
There’d been a rueful twist to Monoma’s lips as he’d slowly shaken his head. “I’m sorry.”
The words had rung true and sincere in the deserted classroom and Itsuka had scoffed and turned to go.
“I don’t know why I’m like this.”
The words had brought her steps up short, though she’d refused to turn back around.
“I. I can’t not say anything, I can’t hide the way I really feel. I’m sorry.”
Excuses and more excuses.
Itsuka had left the room without another word.
There’d been a small package on her desk the next day.
A custom hair tie from the support department that perfectly matched her eye mask, alongside a description of its durability and a guarantee not to loosen or snap during a fight.
There had also been a note, the words ‘thank you’ written in fancy calligraphy on one side and a small ‘hope it manages to hold your hair together the way manage to do for me’ scrawled across the back.
The note had been unsigned, but by the way Monoma had been staring fixedly out the window there’d been no doubt in her mind who it was from.
That was before Kamino.
***
It’s been a little over a month since UA transitioned to a dorm system but this is the first time that Itsuka has ever seen Monoma looking like this.
He’s quiet today, practically stumbling down the stairs and into the kitchen proper. Then he makes his way to the fridge with what looks like visible effort, and pours himself a tall glass of milk. He barely manages to finish half before abandoning it to bend half over the counter so he can lean on it weakly.
“Uhhhh you good Bronoma?” Tetsutetsu gruffs out, his own large nutritious breakfast all but forgotten on the table as he hovers worriedly behind Monoma in case the blond falls over.
“Just… ran out of my medication a couple days ago,” Monoma rasps, knuckling the counter like it’s the only thing keeping him upright.
“Oof sucks bro. Your parents sending you any more?”
Monoma shakes his head and then winces, immediately listing to one side. He manages to slap a palm against the wall to keep himself from falling over. “Daily medications need to be filled and stored by Recovery Girl now,” he murmurs, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. “I don’t know why they haven’t sent her my prescription yet…”
Itsuka frowns into her coffee mug before slowly setting it down as Monoma drags himself over to the couches. He’s probably just too exhausted to make his way back upstairs but…
But he’s also flushed and sweaty like he’s got a fever, and when he all but collapses onto the common room couch, he immediately flops an arm over his eyes like he’s warding off a headache.
“You should eat something,” Itsuka tells him gently, finding herself standing over him and gazing down at him with rapidly increasing worry at just how out of it he seems.
“I’m fine,” he mumbles.
Itsuka huffs. “Stop lying to us! We can all clearly see that you’re not!”
And Monoma suddenly goes rigid.
Slowly his arm lifts just enough for his wide bleary eyes to shine through at them.
“Wh-What?” he croaks, shock and horror bleeding into his tone. “No, that's impossible.”
Itsuka raises an eyebrow at him, trying and failing to keep her heartrate even in the face of whatever the fuck is going on.
Monoma slowly shifts himself into a sitting position, wavering weakly from side to side as he stares down at his trembling hands. “No I… I can’t lie. I… I never lie.”
He stares up at them imploringly, hopefully, like he’s waiting for one of them to say psyche and admit that he’d been telling the truth after all.
“Bronoma…” Tetsutetsu starts, trailing off like he’s completely at a loss about what’s going on. “You’re… you’re not fine, man.”
“But I said I was,” Monoma whispers, the trembling in his hands visibly racketing up a notch. “So I… I have to be.”
It hits Itsuka like a bolt of lightning, all of Monoma’s oddities finally slotting neatly into place and completing the puzzle she’d been trying to make sense of since the first time she’d begged him to just shut up with the insults and he’d said he couldn’t lie.
“Monoma…”
He turns slowly to look at her, wincing at the motion like his head is pounding.
Withdrawals a part of her whispers, horror and fear sending shivers down her spine at the very thought of it.
Slowly she reaches out and carefully brushes his sweaty bangs off his forehead. “What… what medication did your parents have you on?”
Monoma stares up at her helplessly, making no move to push her hand away.
“I. I don’t know.”
He falls silent after that, eyes wide yet glassy, minute tremors making their way through him all the while and somehow, Itsuka finds herself on the couch bracketing Monoma on the left with an arm wrapped loosely around him, while Tetsutetsu is a solid presence against his right.
Monoma’s head flops onto her shoulder as he finally dozes off and Itsuka locks eyes with Tetsutetsu over the top of his fluffy blond hair.
She can’t be sure what the Monoma’s had been drugging their son with. Something bad enough that it had been better to yank him off it cold turkey rather than share the prescription— if ever there even was one— with a hero.
But as she and Tetsutetsu share a single solemn nod she knows that she’s not the only one that’s determined to get to the bottom of this.
First thing’s first, she’s got a phone call to make. If anyone can figure out if Monoma had really been taking some kind of truth serum drug every day, it’s the heroes that run this school.
And after that… well she and Tetsutetsu are training to be heroes one day too.
If anyone can keep Monoma safe from harm, it’s them.