Chapter Text
The training gym echoed with the dull rhythm of bodies colliding against mats and the beat of punches and kicks through the air. Class 1-A had already split into pairs by the time Aizawa finally stepped through the entrance, one hand buried lazily in his pocket and the other loosely holding onto the end of Shinsou Hitoshi’s capture scarf.
Everyone stopped what they were doing.
Shinsou ignored the looks that followed him.
He had gotten used to them after the Sports Festival. Some people looked impressed. Some looked suspicious. Others looked at him like they were trying to decide whether he belonged here or whether he was just someone from General Studies who had gotten lucky.
None of those opinions mattered.
The only person whose approval Shinsou cared about earning was the exhausted man walking beside him.
“Aizawa-sensei?” Iida straightened immediately, chopping one hand through the air. “Is there something we should be aware of?”
“Yeah,” Aizawa replied, not even slowing down. “He’s training with us.”
The room erupted.
Not loudly.
Not enough to be disrespectful.
But enough.
Shinsou kept his expression blank as whispers spread around the gym.
“That’s the guy from the Sports Festival.”
“He almost beat Midoriya.”
“Wasn’t he the one who brainwashed Ojiro?”
Nothing new.
People loved talking about him.
They just rarely bothered talking to him.
“Shinsou.”
His attention snapped back.
Aizawa looked at him with that same tired expression he always seemed to have.
“You’ll be training with us for the next few weeks. Treat this as an evaluation. You’re here to improve, not prove yourself.”
Then his eyes moved toward the rest of the class.
“And the rest of you will treat him like any other student.”
Most of the class nodded.
One person smiled.
Shinsou already knew who it was before he even looked.
Midoriya.
Of course.
Midoriya Izuku had a strange habit of looking at people like they were worth knowing.
Not in a fake way.
Not like he was trying to be everyone’s friend.
It was just how he existed.
Like every person around him was something interesting.
Something important.
Shinsou didn’t understand it.
Or maybe he understood it too well.
People like Midoriya were easy to like.
They made themselves impossible not to like.
The green-haired boy stood near the front of the room, curls sticking out in every direction despite the sweat darkening his uniform from training. He wasn’t the loudest person there. He wasn’t even the most noticeable.
And yet somehow, people always ended up around him.
Uraraka was talking animatedly beside him. Iida looked like he was halfway through giving him advice. Todoroki had somehow drifted close enough to count as part of the conversation despite barely saying anything.
It wasn’t intentional.
People just…
gravitated toward him.
Shinsou had disliked Midoriya since the Sports Festival.
Not because he lost.
Losing was something he had accepted.
The moment Midoriya shattered his own fingers just to break through Brainwashing, Shinsou had understood exactly what kind of person he was dealing with.
Midoriya had found him after their match, still carrying that same bright expression and a notebook in his hands.
He hadn’t looked angry.
He hadn’t looked relieved.
He hadn’t even looked like he had won.
He had looked curious.
He had started asking questions about Brainwashing like Shinsou was some fascinating puzzle instead of the person who had tried to defeat him.
And Shinsou hated that.
Because it felt like pity.
And Shinsou hated pity more than losing.
Unfortunately, Midoriya was exactly the kind of person who noticed someone standing alone.
He barely had time to prepare before the green-haired boy was already walking toward him.
“Hi!”
Midoriya crossed the room quickly, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process. He caught himself at the last second, laughing awkwardly.
Somehow, it wasn’t embarrassing.
That was the worst part.
It was almost endearing.
Which was annoying.
“I’m Midoriya! Um, we kind of met during the Sports Festival, but not really met-met, and I wanted to say congratulations because you were incredible!”
The words immediately started speeding up.
“Your quirk is honestly one of the most versatile I’ve ever seen, and I’ve been thinking about different applications since our match because there are so many possible strategies and—”
He stopped.
Realized he was rambling.
A faint blush spread across his face.
“Sorry. I got carried away.”
Shinsou stared at him.
“…What?”
Midoriya blinked.
“You’ve been thinking about my quirk?”
The excitement returned instantly.
“Yeah!”
Of course it did.
Midoriya hugged the notebook against his chest.
“It’s really interesting! I mean, I only saw a small part of what Brainwashing can do during the Sports Festival, so I was wondering if maybe—”
“You’ve wondered enough.”
The words came out colder than Shinsou intended.
But he didn’t apologize.
Midoriya went quiet.
Not offended.
Not angry.
Just…
disappointed.
That somehow bothered Shinsou more.
Because fake smiles were easy to ignore.
But Midoriya’s wasn’t fake.
He knew what fake looked like.
This wasn’t it.
And that meant Midoriya really was like this.
Before Shinsou could decide whether that was more irritating than the alternative, Aizawa’s voice cut through the room.
“Enough.”
The entire class straightened.
“We’re doing combat evaluations today. If you’re sloppy during your match, you’ll run ten laps... around campus. shinsou, you'll do the last match with hagakure to even out the odd numbers.”
Midoriya immediately moved into position.
His stance was simple.
Balanced.
Controlled.
No unnecessary movements.
No arrogance.
Just focus.
“Ready?” Midoriya asked.
He even smiled.
“I was ready before you got here,” Shinsou replied.
Aizawa didn’t bother counting down.
“Begin.”
Neither of them moved immediately.
Shinsou circled first, watching for the slightest shift in Midoriya's stance. Midoriya mirrored him almost perfectly, matching the distance between them without taking the bait.
Annoying.
Shinsou struck first with a quick jab. Midoriya blocked it cleanly before slipping out of range. Shinsou followed with another attack, testing his reactions instead of trying to land a hit. Midoriya adjusted every time, calm and composed, his eyes tracking every movement.
He wasn't just defending.
He was studying him.
"They're both waiting," Kaminari whispered.
"I don't think they're waiting," Todoroki replied. "They're gathering information."
Shinsou ignored them.
He repeated the same opening one last time before abruptly changing his attack.
Midoriya avoided it.
Not because he reacted.
Because he expected it.
Shinsou immediately put distance between them.
"...Huh."
Midoriya blinked.
"What?"
"You saw that coming."
"A little." he said with a little shrug
"A little?" Shinsou echoed.
Midoriya rubbed the back of his neck.
"I wasn't completely sure."
Liar.
Nobody guessed something that specific on instinct.
Before either of them could continue, Aizawa's voice echoed through the gym.
"Stop."
Both boys lowered their guards.
Neither looked particularly winded.
Aizawa glanced between them.
"What did you notice?"
"He hesitates," Shinsou answered immediately. "He'd rather observe than commit."
"Explain."
"He waits until he's sure. He doesn't attack unless he thinks he understands what's happening."
Aizawa gave a small nod before turning toward Midoriya.
"Your turn."
Midoriya hesitated.
"I... kind of agree."
Shinsou frowned.
"But I think Shinsou does the same thing."
"...Excuse me?"
"You wait too."
"I don't."
"You do," Midoriya replied quickly. "Just differently.” a pause"you're not waiting to attack," Midoriya continued. "You're waiting for information.You repeated the same opening more than once to see how I'd respond. Once you found something that worked, you kept building off of it. You weren't trying to win as quickly as possible."
He smiled sheepishly.
"You were trying to learn."
Shinsou stared.
"...Keep going," Aizawa said.
Midoriya blinked.
"Oh."
"I said keep going."
"Right."
Midoriya pointed toward Shinsou.
"You also shift your weight before changing levels. It's only for a moment, but once I noticed it..." He smiled apologetically. "...I knew another sweep was coming."
Silence settled over the room.
Even Kaminari looked impressed.
Shinsou narrowed his eyes.
"...You figured that out already?"
"I think so."
"You think so."
"I mean..." Midoriya laughed nervously. "I could be wrong."
That humility again.
Shinsou didn't buy it.
Nobody watched someone fight for a few minutes and walked away with a breakdown of their habits.
Nobody.
Except Midoriya.
"And why," Shinsou asked, folding his arms, "would you assume everyone notices that?"
Midoriya paused.
"I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"I've just... always looked at fights that way."
"Since when?"
Midoriya tilted his head.
"...Since I started my hero analysis books when I was 4 but more like 7 1/2."
The gym fell silent.
"Four?" Kirishima repeated.
Midoriya nodded.
"That's when I started my hero analysis notebooks."
"You had notebooks when you were four?" Kaminari asked.
"Mhm."
"Like... actual notebooks?" Ashido added.
"Yeah."
Realizing everyone was staring, Midoriya immediately waved both hands.
"They weren't anything like they are now! The first ones were mostly crayon drawings because I couldn't write very well yet."
Somehow, that only made everyone more interested.
"Wait," Jirou said, tilting her head. "You still have them?" The question immediately drew everyone's attention back to Midoriya, who brightened without a hint of embarrassment. He nodded enthusiastically, clutching the notebook against his chest a little tighter. Where the hell did that come from anyways?
"Yeah! I kept all of them." Kaminari blinked. "You kept notebooks from when you were four?" Midoriya looked genuinely confused by the surprise. "Well... yeah."
"But why?" Ashido asked before anyone else could. Midoriya hesitated for only a second, as if the answer was so obvious he wasn't sure how to explain it. "Because they're important."
The simplicity of his response left the room unexpectedly quiet. He looked around at everyone's expressions before rubbing the back of his neck with an awkward laugh. "
I mean... they're kind of embarrassing now, but they're still part of how I learned." He smiled sheepishly. "I have all of my notebooks in my dorm room, so... I could show you all after training if you want."
"Oh, we're absolutely looking at baby analyst notebooks," Ashido declared, grinning from ear to ear.
Kaminari immediately pointed at Midoriya as though sealing a business deal. "No backing out."
"I wasn't planning to," Midoriya laughed.
Uraraka giggled beside him while Iida adjusted his glasses with a thoughtful expression. "I must admit, I am rather curious myself."
Even Todoroki gave a small nod. "I'd like to see them too."
Watching the exchange from the edge of the mat, Aizawa remained silent. He had never gone through Midoriya's notebooks cover to cover, but he had seen enough over the past several months to understand how detailed they were.
Every page was packed with observations, diagrams, combat breakdowns, rescue scenarios, and enough notes to rival some professional hero reports. The idea that the collection had started when Midoriya was four explained far more than Aizawa cared to admit.
Most children spent that age pretending to be heroes. Midoriya had apparently decided to study them instead.
His gaze shifted toward Shinsou. The purple-haired teenager hadn't joined the conversation, nor did he look particularly interested in the notebooks themselves. Instead, his attention stayed fixed on Midoriya, brows drawn together in quiet suspicion.
Shinsou wasn't wondering whether the notebooks existed. He was wondering whether the person holding them was real. Aizawa had seen that expression before. It was the look of someone waiting for the mask to slip.
Across the room, Shinsou watched Midoriya settle effortlessly back into the group as though the awkward conversation from only a few minutes ago had never happened.
Ashido had already started asking what the first notebook looked like, Kaminari was making increasingly ridiculous guesses about crayon diagrams, and Uraraka laughed as Midoriya admitted the earliest entries barely contained words.
Nobody seemed bothered by his rambling. If anything, they encouraged it. They listened because they wanted to listen, and Midoriya smiled at each of them with that same warm expression he'd worn when he'd walked over to Shinsou earlier.
It didn't make sense.
People didn't just... do that. Not in Shinsou's experience. Interest usually came with strings attached, and kindness rarely lasted once people decided someone wasn't worth the effort.
Yet Midoriya had walked straight up to the person who had tried to brainwash him during the Sports Festival and congratulated him for winning without hesitation. He had asked questions with genuine curiosity instead of suspicion.
Somehow, that irritated Shinsou far more than outright hostility ever could.
Aizawa finally cleared his throat, and the conversations gradually faded away. "Break's over." Midoriya straightened so quickly it was almost comical, blinking as though he'd completely forgotten they were still in the middle of class.
"Oh... sorry." Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose. "Midoriya." "Yes, sensei?" "Stop apologizing every time people pay attention to you."
Midoriya opened his mouth, paused, then visibly reconsidered whatever he had been about to say. "...Right."
The answer earned a few muffled snickers from around the room, with Kaminari quickly looking away in a failed attempt to hide his grin.
Even Aizawa looked faintly satisfied that the automatic apology had been caught before it escaped. "Good," he said simply before turning back toward the class. "The point of that exercise wasn't to determine a winner."
His eyes moved between Midoriya and Shinsou. "Both of you identified the other's habits correctly."
Shinsou folded his arms, still looking unconvinced. "So now what?"
Aizawa didn't hesitate. "Now you fix them."
"...That's it?" Shinsou asked. Aizawa raised an eyebrow. "What were you expecting?" Shinsou shrugged. "A lecture?" A faint smirk tugged at the corner of Aizawa's mouth. "You already gave yourselves one."
===after the lesson===
Shinsou watched from across the classroom as Midoriya slipped effortlessly back into the conversation, as though the awkward exchange between them had never happened.
Ashido was already laughing at something he'd said, Kaminari was dramatically insisting that everyone deserved to see "Notebook One," and even Todoroki had wandered close enough to listen.
People made room for Midoriya without thinking about it. They listened when he spoke, laughed when he laughed, and smiled back whenever he smiled first. It looked so effortless that it was almost irritating.
It shouldn't have bothered him.
But it did.
Midoriya made it look easy. Like kindness alone was enough to make people want to stay around you. Like all you had to do was smile and the world smiled back.
Shinsou had spent most of his life learning exactly the opposite. He looked away before Midoriya could catch him staring, trying to ignore the uncomfortable thought settling in the back of his mind.
There it was again,another easy conversation, another awkward apology, another reminder that Midoriya Izuku carried a warmth Shinsou couldn't quite understand. He still wasn't buying it. Not for a second.
=== (after school its friday btw)===
"...Shinsou!"
He stopped walking.
Of course not.
Closing his eyes for the briefest moment, he turned just in time to see Midoriya jogging awkwardly toward him, nearly tripping off the curb before catching himself with an embarrassed laugh. Somehow, he managed to look relieved rather than flustered once he caught up. "You heading to the station too?" he asked.
"...No."
Midoriya blinked.
"Oh." He glanced toward the sidewalk ahead of them before looking back at Shinsou. "...Then why are you walking toward it?"
Shinsou stared at him for a long moment.
"...Seriously?"
Understanding dawned across Midoriya's face all at once, and his cheeks immediately flushed pink.
"Oh."
"...Right."
"...Sorry."
Shinsou let out a quiet sigh, rubbing at his temple. "I take it back."
"Huh?" Midoriya looked up from adjusting the strap of his backpack.
"You do know when to quit."
"I do?"
"You stop talking every time you apologize."
Midoriya blinked before looking down at the pavement. "...Oh." A thoughtful silence settled between them as they continued walking, broken only by the sound of passing students and the occasional breeze stirring the trees along the sidewalk.
When Midoriya finally spoke again, it was almost hesitant. "...Sorry." Shinsou pinched the bridge of his nose. "You just did it again." Midoriya gave a helpless smile. "I know." "...Sorry."
Shinsou stared at him for a long moment before letting out another sigh. "...You realize you're proving my point."
Midoriya nodded without arguing, his sheepish smile faltering around the edges. "I am." "And?" Shinsou asked.
Midoriya hesitated, fingers tightening around the strap of his backpack. "I... don't really know how to stop."
That wasn't the answer Shinsou had expected.
For the briefest moment, Midoriya's smile disappeared entirely, replaced by something smaller and strangely uncertain before it returned just as quickly as it had vanished.
"Anyway," he said, clearing his throat as though nothing had happened, "I didn't know we took the same train. I guess it'll make the commute a little less lonely."
Shinsou raised an eyebrow. "For who?"
Midoriya smiled despite himself. "...Me?"
Figures.
The rest of the walk passed in relative silence, or at least, silence by Midoriya's standards. Every few minutes he hummed softly to himself before pulling a small notebook from his blazer pocket, scribbling a quick note, then hurrying to catch up after falling behind.
Once he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk entirely, completely absorbed in writing another sentence until a passing student politely stepped around him.
Midoriya apologized twice before jogging after Shinsou again, tucking the notebook away as though nothing unusual had happened. Shinsou watched the whole display out of the corner of his eye.
Obsessive much?
The station came into view a few minutes later, already alive with the familiar rush of commuters heading home for the weekend.
Announcements echoed through the building while students, office workers, and families filtered steadily through the ticket gates. Shinsou tapped his transit card against the reader, listening to the soft electronic chime as the gate slid open.
A heartbeat later, another chime sounded directly behind him. He didn't even need to look over his shoulder.
"...Same stop?" Midoriya asked.
"...Please stop narrating our commute."
Midoriya laughed quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry." Shinsou didn't answer this time.
He was beginning to suspect Midoriya apologized the way most people breathed, completely automatically, without even realizing he was doing it. Somehow, that irritated him almost as much as the constant smiling.
The fact that Midoriya never seemed bothered by Shinsou's dry responses only made it worse.
The platform was already crowded by the time they reached it. Businessmen stood shoulder to shoulder with briefcases tucked against their legs, a group of middle schoolers with their skirts pulled up to their knees crowded around a phone screen near the vending machines, and a tired-looking mother gently pulled her toddler back behind the yellow safety line for what looked like the fifth time.
Out of habit, Shinsou positioned himself beside one of the support columns, giving himself one less direction to watch. His eyes swept over the platform automatically before settling on the familiar head of messy green hair a short distance away.
Midoriya had somehow wandered into another conversation.
Shinsou watched with faint disbelief as Midoriya crouched beside an elderly man, carefully gathering the papers that had spilled across the platform after the man's folder had slipped from his hands.
The older man accepted the neatly stacked pages with both hands, bowing several times in quick succession. "Thank you, young man. I don't know what I would've done if these had blown onto the tracks."
Midoriya smiled sheepishly as he handed over the last sheet. "It was no trouble. I'm just glad we got them before the train arrived."
The old man chuckled warmly before making his way toward another carriage. Midoriya waved after him with an awkward smile. "Have a nice weekend!"
Of course.
Shinsou looked away with a quiet sigh. The guy couldn't stand still for five minutes without accidentally improving someone else's day. It was almost impressive. Almost.
Before he could dwell on it any longer, the overhead speakers crackled to life, announcing the arrival of the local train to Musutafu Central. Around them, the crowd shifted closer to the platform's edge as the familiar screech of steel wheels echoed through the station.
The train rolled to a smooth stop, its doors still closed when someone shoved forward from the back of the crowd. A young woman stumbled with a startled gasp, thrown off balance by the sudden push.
Midoriya reacted without thinking, stepping forward just in time to catch her before she hit the ground.
"I-I'm so sorry!" she blurted, grabbing onto his forearm to steady herself.
"No, it's okay," Midoriya replied just as quickly, taking a careful step back once she had regained her footing. "Really. Nobody got hurt."
"...Are you sure?"
"Yeah." Midoriya offered a gentle smile "It happens."
The woman gave a shaky laugh before glancing down at the hand still resting against his wrist.
She froze.
For less than a second, confusion crossed her face, as though she'd suddenly remembered something she couldn't quite place. Then every trace of color drained from her expression.
Her fingers jerked away from Midoriya's wrist so abruptly it almost looked painful. "...No..." she whispered under her breath.
Midoriya blinked.
"What?"
"N-Nothing!" she answered far too quickly, forcing a smile that trembled around the edges.
"I'm... I'm sorry again!"
Before Midoriya could ask another question, she slipped into the crowd just as the train doors slid open, disappearing among the other passengers as though she'd never been there. Midoriya watched after her for a moment, brow furrowing slightly.
"...That was strange."
Shinsou shrugged.
"People usually are."
"...Yeah..." Midoriya glanced toward the crowd one last time before shaking his head. "She probably just had somewhere she needed to be."
Of course that was the conclusion he reached.
Shinsou stepped onto the train, and Midoriya followed a moment later. The doors slid shut behind them with a soft chime before the train slowly pulled away from the platform, carrying both boys toward Musutafu.
Neither of them noticed the young woman still standing where she'd been left behind.
Her hands were clasped so tightly together that her knuckles had turned white.
She watched the train disappear around the bend, her breathing shallow as she stared after it long after it had vanished from sight. "...Please," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the departing train. She squeezed her eyes shut, her hands beginning to tremble. "...Please... tell me it didn't activate."