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Between the fact that their dads are top heroes and also influence their peer’s grades, the fact that their brother was born of a Quirk marriage to kill All Might and could probably do it, and the fact that they on their own can establish complete control over someone’s mind, Shinsou doesn’t get a lot of crap when they publicly come out as nonbinary.
It’s common knowledge that Thirteen is alright with any pronouns reporters give them, but in one interview on Mic’s radio show, they announce that they’re the most comfortable with they/them. There’s quite a bit of uproar, mostly on the Internet, but anyone who messes with them about it has many, many top heroes to deal with as well.
There had been signs. Wanting to dress more androgynously, being annoyed sometimes when people used ‘him’ instead of ‘Shinsou’, making every single one of their self-insert video game characters use gender neutral pronouns.
They slip it into conversation with Aizawa one day during training, which probably isn’t the best moment, but when have they ever been good at silly things like timing and subtlety?
“So,” Shinsou says, diving to dodge a punch from Aizawa. They’re training to build their stamina without relying on their Quirk.
“So,” he replies, trying to sweep Shinsou’s feet from beneath them.
“I’ve been thinking recently about gender, and stuff like that.”
“Mhm.” Aizawa slows only slightly in his attack, which is a sign that he’s listening.
“...I don’t think I’m a guy?”
Aizawa nods while backflipping off a wall, and really, should that level of badassery be allowed?
“I know you guys are cool about a lot of things. You’d have to be cool about me dating Tokoyami, because of course, you and Mic.” They wave a hand through the air. “The same applies for you and gender, but... I don’t want to transition the same way you did? I don’t know.”
They do know. They never do anything without knowing, truly and completely, and it’s been nine months since they first texted Thirteen in a panic at 4 in the afternoon because huh, who would have guessed that wanting to be nonbinary was a symptom of being nonbinary?
The only thing they know, for certain, is that they don’t particularly want to be a boy, and they’re definitely not a girl.
“You know how Thirteen likes being called they? That’s how I feel.” They duck to avoid his capture weapon and roll out of its reach.
Aizawa’s hair drops around his shoulders, and he finally blinks. “Okay, we’re not having this conversation while I try to suplex you into the ground.”
“Ah, where’s the fun in that?”
“I’ve had a discussion with Thirteen about this, but not in a lot of detail, just the basics. I remember the gist of it, though. So you’re nonbinary?”
“Yeah.” Shinsou nods. This doesn’t look anything like the anxiety-fueled scenarios that end in their dad weeping while disowning them, which is probably a good thing.
“I signed up to be your dad, which is more than a lot of people can say about their kid.” He pulls his hair back into a ponytail. “I remember not being able to talk to my parents about my transition and constantly having to hide it at UA. It was the worst. That’s never an environment I want you to have to be in.” He pauses. “I’ll see what I can do about the pronouns in your official school file. Do you want to change your name?”
That’s another reason Shinsou is hesitant to call themself trans. “Nah, Shinsou’s fine. Great, actually.” A lot of people change their name to represent putting their old self behind them, like Thirteen did. They feel like Shinsou is a gender neutral name, though.
After all, it’s the name they’ve always had, and they’re nonbinary, so their name should be by proxy.
“Have you told Mic about this?”
“Not yet. A lot of the class knows, but I’ve been...” They hesitate. “Waiting for the right time to tell you. I figured you should be the first parent I told, I guess, because Mic wouldn’t really get it.”
Aizawa looks slightly pained. If it were any other day, they know he would launch into a spiel about how they can come to him with any problem, and he’ll support them no matter what. Shinsou knows he loves them and Todoroki so much more than they could comprehend at first, but Aizawa knows that it’s hard for both of them.
The two are figuring out how to exist in a family that isn’t always trying to exploit their weaknesses, and it takes some getting used to. That’s another thing that Mic, while being the best dad a person could ask for, just doesn’t get: the hardwired impulse to assume the worst.
And so it begins. Thirteen helps them come out to Mic and answers as many questions as he and Aizawa have. Shinsou asks the classmates they haven’t already to call them by the right pronouns, and everyone makes a solid effort.
It’s nice, honestly.
(“I will kill them if they don’t respect you.”
“Todoroki, no.”
“Blood boils at 212 degrees Fahrenheit. I can reach that without breaking a sweat.”
“Todoroki, no!”)
Their wardrobe changes a little as well once they become conscious of it. They grow their hair down to the middle of their back, and then chop most of it off to get an undercut. Picking outfits for formal occasions becomes an adventure. Sometimes they wear form-fitting dresses, and sometimes they wear a tuxedo.
They decide to get their ears pierced, which is probably the best decision they’ve made in a while. The look on All Might’s face when they show up wearing earrings with his face on them is priceless.
During most casual occasions, they wear a hodgepodge of stolen t-shirts and shorts. Aizawa’s clothing is especially nice. Sometimes it makes them feel the most comfortable in their own skin to just become a warm black and purple blob.
Shaving their legs is nice, too, but absolutely not something they want to do on a regular basis. They find they get the same effect in the long run by just using cinnamon and rose scented soaps. Mic finds this out somehow and comes home with a new scent every week. Shinsou has no idea where he’s getting all of these bath bombs, but has no intention of asking him to stop.
Shinsou discovers that they really like wearing beanies, and that their hair is nice to play with when it’s around their shoulder blades but too unruly when it reaches their ribcage.
A lot of people slip up at first. Iida goes out of his way to use Shinsou’s correct pronouns in situations where using none at all works fine. It’s nice.
Sometimes the accidental ‘Shinsou? He’s over there’ feels like a normal mistake. Sometimes it feels like they’re trapped underneath ice, tasting metal in their mouth.
The less they have to hear it, the more it leans towards the second.
Todoroki stops tacking awful, sappy adjectives onto ‘brother’ and starts tacking them onto ‘sibling’.
Principal Nedzu stops obnoxiously insisting on referring to them as Mr. Yamada, and starts obnoxiously insisting on referring to them as Mx. Yamada.
(“I don’t need to be called by my last name when we’re just going out to pizza and not even in school,” Shinsou complains, but it makes their heart feel a little bit lighter.)
Mic and Aizawa, on the other hand, seem to lock themselves into a fierce competition to see who can come up with the best gender neutral term for son. Child works fine, but everyone in this household is so damn extra, and as soon as Aizawa uses the word offspring, it’s a fight to the death.
Spawn. Descendant. Heir. Next of kin. Young.
It all comes to a head when Aizawa walks into English class and Mic, whose mama didn’t raise no quitter, calls Shinsou his progeny in front of the entire class.
Tokoyami and Kaminari still haven’t let them live that one down.
Once summer rolls around, after everyone’s done mocking Bakugou for his birthday being The Weed Day and being subject to his wrath and explosions at all hours of the night, June is pride month for Class 1-A. This comes with glitter (you would not believe, so much glitter) and, because a family has never before been filled with so many competitive superpowered gays, an unspoken contest to see who can wear their pride flag in the most ways.
Aizawa is in the lead, having somehow dyed his capture weapon rainbow and the hook pink, white, and blue. That’s precisely when the class gets wind of it. Tokoyami (the traitor!) had managed to get pictures of Todoroki’s pink, yellow, and blue bedsheets, along with the determined gleam in Aizawa’s eyes when he saw them.
(“You’re never invited to a movie night again,” they tell their boyfriend.
“Am I still invited to game night?”
“Of course. Aizawa wants you to try his new casserole since Todoroki’s allergic to peanuts.”
“Plus, I’m the only one who can beat your brother at Mario Kart.”
“That too.”)
As soon as Mina and Sero find out that The Ultimate Power Family (as the four of them are quickly nicknamed) is having another competition, they promptly begin taking bets. To raise the stakes, Mina sends the four of them a text. Whoever manages to get the other three to surrender splits the money with her.
“Oh, it is on,” says Todoroki.
“How did you get my number,” says Aizawa.
It escalates steadily, the most notable event being Mic accidentally purchasing 100 sheets of small bisexual pride flag stickers instead of 10. Yaoyorozu and Midoriya use some to wallpaper the inside of their lockers.
“This,” Jirou says, watching the chaos unfold, “is our true agenda.”
The grand finale of this is when Thirteen shows up at a schoolwide assembly to make a speech with every possible white part of their suit dyed yellow, white, purple, and black. They stare Aizawa dead in the eye through the entirety of their twenty-five minute speech on the upcoming field trip.
Mina is so impressed she gives Thirteen 75% of the money instead of the promised half. They in turn split it with Shinsou, who wasted an entire Saturday helping them hunt down temporary body paint in the necessary colors.
Shinsou uses the part of the 189 dollars they don’t put in the bank to buy Monopoly.
They bribe Aizawa (with snickerdoodles made by Sato and the promise of being allowed to choose their fifth cat’s name) until he allows the students to play a class-wide game.
Tooru wins.
Bakugou tries to murder several of his classmates.
Tokoyami agrees that it’s the best purchase they’ve ever made in their life.
Speaking of Tokoyami, he usually refers to them as his datemate.
“Are you sure this doesn’t bother you?” they ask him one day when the pair have commandeered Shinsou’s living room to make a giant pillow fort. They worry about other people’s opinions a lot, but their boyfriend is definitely top of the list.
(The two of them are surrounded by four sleeping bags, 27 pillows, and three cats. Shinsou’s pretty sure Todoroki froze some of the pieces together when he came downstairs to help instead of tying them properly, so it’ll probably end up falling on their faces before the night is over, but that’s okay.)
“Babe,” Tokoyami says, rolling over to face them, “I have a dark entity that makes bad puns and thrives in the night living inside of me. I have a beak. It doesn’t bother me at all if you decide to embrace who you are. You should be as happy as possible, and I’m glad you feel secure enough with me to make that happen.” He stops for a second. “You’re not fond of the word boyfriend, are you?”
“Not really, no. Either partner or datemate work fine.”
Tokoyami pauses for a moment in which Shinsou calculates the 273 different ways they could have messed up by asking too much of their boyfriend.
“I’m gonna call you my significant bother.”
“No.”
“I’ll call you my BF, but the letters just stand for Big Frog.”
“Absolutely not!” they laugh.
“Datemate is good.” He wraps his arm around Shinsou. “Do you wanna watch Sharkboy and Lavagirl?”
“That’s the fourth time this month!”
“I know what I said.”
Things have been a lot better in general since they were adopted. Home is something that they no longer associate with fear. They wear skirts and ties and anything they want and no longer have to deal with the suffocating feeling that comes with the wrong outfit or pronoun. Their dads take it all in stride.
By the time a few months have passed, over half the class has joined Iida’s crusade.
“This is why Shinsou’s my favorite,” Mina says after they hand her the recipe to Mic’s famous casserole. They brought some to lunch one day and let her have a bite, and she immediately demanded to know how to make it for herself. “They always have their priorities in order.”
“Are you saying their number one priority is food?” Kirishima asks.
“Absolutely. Like I said. In order.”
“Specifically, they prioritize casseroles,” Uraraka adds. “Which wins them extra points.”
Shinsou knows there’s no reason the class needs to refer to them in the third person that much, but they appreciate it.
About a month after they start the process of coming out, Kaminari shows up in Shinsou’s room. This is not an uncommon occurrence, as he shows up anywhere at any time, regardless of whether or not he has permission or reason to be there.
“Dude,” Kaminari says. Given the amount he calls Jirou dude, they aren’t bothered. “How did you know you weren’t, y’know, a guy?”
Shinsou patiently sits on their bed and answers questions the same way that Thirteen did for them a short time ago. It’s odd how much things can change in a month.
After the better part of two hours, they’re both laying on Shinsou’s bed. Kaminari has his legs propped up against the wall and his head hanging off the end of the bed.
“I’ve been doing a ton of research, and I... I really like the term demiboy?”
“Oh, yeah! I identified as that before I realized I was more comfortable with just nonbinary. It might be an umbrella term, but it feels right.”
“I like to think of myself as sort of boy and sort of agender. I prefer to use they/them, but he/him doesn’t bother me either. It’s just... not ideal. I don’t go by my given name already, but I thought that was just a normal preference. I mean, my nickname had good memories associated with it, right? But now, I’m not sure that’s really why I asked people to call me something different.”
Shinsou smiles at them. “We can be unsure together.”
Kaminari nods before laughing. “Can I crash here? I was on my way to Mina’s to surprise her, but it turns out she’s at Bakugou’s, and I was gonna borrow money from her to get back home. Then I remembered you lived around here, and I needed to talk to you anyway, and, well.”
Shinsou lets them spend the night. Mic makes chocolate chip pancakes in the morning, probably because he has a sixth sense for these kind of things. Todoroki has learned not to ask questions when it comes to his sibling and classmate.
Aizawa asks them how they got into the house to begin with.
“I have my ways,” Kaminari says, eating a mess that is more syrup than pancake.
Aizawa thinks that maybe he should pay a little more attention to them in class, and resolves to update his home security system.
The two agree on almost everything, and eventually they find themselves talking every day. Kaminari texts them to wake them up in time for breakfast because they’re far more of a morning person.
One day Shinsou walks downstairs to find Kaminari already eating omelettes with the rest of their family. Slowly, they show up at the house almost as much as Tokoyami.
Kaminari learns that while they can, objectively, beat Aizawa at mini golf, it’s better if they don’t.
The pair talks to each other about the new things they try— skirts, hairstyles, accessories— and it’s really, surprisingly nice to have someone who understands.
There’s a lot about Kaminari that Shinsou learns over the next year. How they worry some day they’ll fry their brain past the point of no return, that their favorite meme is ‘I lik the bred’ even though it’s super dead, that they struggle a lot with school even though they really want to be a pro hero, that they asked Kirishima out for a double dog dare but now it turns out he’s really sweet and nice and whoops, they’re dating?
They tell each other about everything, and Shinsou thinks this might be the closest they’ve ever had to a best friend.
(Kaminari is by far the fastest to adjust to being served homemade strudels by their teacher.)
On the one year anniversary of their coming out, Thirteen passes them a small cupcake in the hallway. It’s strawberry with vanilla frosting, Shinsou’s favorite, and decorated in the familiar colors of the nonbinary pride flag.
“What’s this for?”
“It’s been a year.”
They smile. “Thanks.”
“Or as I like to say, happy birth-they.” They somehow manage to make finger guns with the suit.
“I revoke my thanks.”
All this to say, things are going pretty well. Sometimes they have to explain a few things to newcomers, but their classmates are like family.
(One time, a hero who was asked to help with training for the week purposefully referred to Shinsou as it.
At least nine people tried to punch him in the balls.
Aizawa got there first.
He has since changed his career path and now works as an accountant for a small law firm in Yokohama.)
Things are going pretty well, until they’re changing in the locker room out of their school outfit to go pick up some cat food and meet Mic for training, and everything goes to hell in a handbasket.
They use the guy’s locker room for several reasons. Convenience, the fact that they’re definitely closer to a guy than they are a girl, the fact that it’s what they’ve done up to this point, and the fact that it’s almost always empty.
Almost.
“I don’t understand how you got into the hero course in the first place.”
They bite back a groan. Monoma is short and probably very practiced at lurking in places where he’s not wanted, so Shinsou doesn’t see him until he’s already there.
“I’m not looking for a fight.” They weigh their options here. They don’t like using their powers outside of a battle setting anyway; it makes them feel like maybe they are cut out to be a villain, even though they know that’s nonsense. And especially not now, where it could easily be absorbed, getting them into an even bigger mess.
“How do we know you didn’t brainwash those freaks into taking you because no one else would?”
It takes them a second to realize he’s talking about their dads. “That doesn’t even make sense. They were way out of my range of influence when they signed the papers—“
“You barely scraped your way into the hero course, and now you’re buddies with Class 1-A like you belong there. All I hear from everyone is ‘Oh, Shinsou, he’s the best, he’s going to be number one hero one day!’”
“They’re the best,” Shinsou says out of pure habit, and then wishes they hadn’t.
He scoffs. “That, too. Everyone buys into the fact that you’re a make-believe gender, when really, you’re just a guy that likes to play dress up. It’s unnatural, and people should stop pretending it’s not.”
“Monoma, our principal is a super intelligent bear. Natural doesn’t have anything to do with it.” They turn to leave.
Despite the fact that Monoma looks like he’s never seen the sunlight or eaten anything besides stale crackers and coffee grounds for the past 30 years, he didn’t get into the hero course by chance. The Sports Festival exposed the details of Shinsou’s quirk to everyone, so he keeps his mouth shut from then on. He has the advantage, keeping Shinsou unable to land a solid punch or use their quirk, and before they know it they’re backed against a locker.
Monoma takes the opportunity to deck them in the face; they feel something crack. “Not so high and mighty now, are you?”
“What is your problem?” they growl, though they know he’s smart enough not to answer, and they don’t know how easily he can absorb their quirk.
Suddenly, another voice echoes from the doorway. “Back the fuck off.”
Shinsou would recognize that voice anywhere, though they wish Kaminari didn’t have to see them like this.
“Oh, so very noble. You’ve found other freaks,” he sneers.
“Wait!” they shout, but Kaminari sends a bolt of electricity flying, and Monoma sends it flying back even faster.
They crash to the ground, and Shinsou tries to trip him but is hit by another burst of energy. Blood is dripping from their nose, adrenaline is pulsing so hard their heart might burst, and—
Suddenly, Monoma is hit by an explosion so large he has no time to recover. It singes the front of Shinsou’s clothing as they press their back to the cold metal behind them, and he’s unconscious before he hits the ground.
“That son of a bitch,” says Bakugou, looking down at him like he’s something the cat dragged in.
They both stare up for a second, shocked (both literally and metaphorically). Bakugou Katsuki, who has been filled with a murderous rage since day one, just... helped them?
“Stop fucking staring,” he snaps, but his chest is heaving too much for it to have any effect. “We’ve gotta stick together, or some shit like that. There’s no place for people like him at UA.”
“You’re trans?” Kaminari asks.
“Piss off,” Bakugou says, in a way that probably means yes. He turns to Shinsou. “Where’s your dad at?”
“What?” they ask, their mind racing to catch up with what’s happening.
“Aizawa. I’m sure he won’t be super pleased that this asshole beat his child up.”
“Uh. I don’t know, maybe we shouldn’t... I mean, he would worry—“
Bakugou rolls his eyes and grabs Shinsou’s phone out of their bag before anyone can stop him. He punches a few buttons, ignoring Shinsou’s protests, and puts the phone to his ear.
“Me, your dumbass offspring, and Pikachu are gonna meet you at that ice cream place off Osamu Street. Be there in fifteen minutes. Yes. No. Yes. Yeah. Hell fucking no.”
He hangs up and hands the phone back to Shinsou. “Are you two. Y’know. Okay?” He looks like the question requires such a level of caring that it physically pains him to ask.
“I think something’s up with my ribs?” Kaminari says.
Shinsou sighs. “I’ll get Recovery Girl.”
“You will not. That douchebag got you good, too. I’ll be back in three.” Bakugou, who apparently never listens to anyone’s opinion, launches himself into the air.
Fifteen minutes later, as promised, Bakugou drags them into the restaurant. Aizawa is sitting like a lump of coal (in both color and posture) at a table in the back. Bakugou slides onto the booth across from him.
“What did you do—“ he snarls, scarf floating slightly.
Bakugou rolls his eyes. Shinsou isn’t sure if the level of carelessness he has is genuine or practiced. “I didn’t do anything, pops. That Mimicry moron, on the other hand...“
Aizawa narrows his eyes, looking at Shinsou’s forming black eye and the way Kaminari is leaning heavily onto their right side. “What happened?”
“It was nothing, just a little—“ Shinsou tries.
“He said they were freaks, roughed up Hivemind, and broke Lightning McQueen’s rib.”
The silence after that sentence is heavy, but Bakugou either has no fear or no common sense.
“Don’t worry. I blasted his ass into next week.”
“Was this about your gender?”
There’s a silence. Bakugou is obviously done answering for them.
“UA has a zero tolerance policy,” Aizawa continues, a little softer than normal.
Shinsou nods finally. “Yeah, it was, I guess.”
Aizawa nods in return. “Great. That’s all I needed to know.” He stands up and rushes out. Kaminari’s pretty sure they see him hop onto the roof.
“So,” Bakugou says after a pregnant pause, “did we come here to mope, or did we come here to get some fucking milkshakes?”
It turns out he’s a mint chocolate chip person.
It’s one of the most surreal moments of Shinsou’s life, but Bakugou seems to threaten to kill them a bit less after that day, so they consider it a win.
Later that night, there’s a knock at Shinsou’s door. They know exactly who it is (their dads) and why they’re there (Aizawa inevitably telling Mic about the fight) and they wonder how long they could use their quirk to get out of this conversation.
They open the door, and to their surprise, it’s Todoroki.
“I brought ice cream. Dadzawa brought a cat. Dadzashi brought... I’m not really sure what that is.”
“It’s a projector!”
“The ice cream might taste a little wonky. I accidentally melted it, and then I had to freeze it again. Can we come in?”
Shinsou nods. Aizawa sprawls onto the beanbags in the corner. The cat in his arms, Jellybean, begins to knead his leg. Todoroki lays on the window seat, opens the ice cream, and tastes it consideringly. Mic sits on the armchair in the corner. Todoroki opens his mouth to speak, but Shinsou beats him to it.
“I’m sorry.”
That’s obviously not what he expected. “What?”
“I worried you all today. It was my fault that I provoked Monoma, and then couldn’t even deal with him on my own. I should have been able to do better, and I’m sorry.”
Everything is silent, and Shinsou digs their fingernails into their palm.
“My dearest, most wonderful sibling. That wasn’t your fault. Kaminari couldn’t beat that shitheel, either. He’s crazy powerful.”
“Language,” Mic says halfheartedly.
Todoroki glares at him. “I heard you call All Might a motherfucker yesterday. You’re not allowed to give me this lecture. Anyway, Shinsou, you scared me half to death, but not any more than Dad that one time he got kidnapped, or any more than I worried you guys when I got knocked out and left for dead under a bridge.”
“But—“
“And you should never have to apologize for being who you are. Okay?”
Shinsou feels a weight lift off their shoulders. “Okay.”
“You’re going to become a better parent than I am at this rate,” Aizawa mumbles.
“You’re really not mad?” Shinsou asks, one last time.
“Absolutely not,” Mic says.
“They’re not your mom, or my old man.” Todoroki smiles a little, which is such a rare sight that Shinsou feels their heart physically hurt with love for their family. They’re small, and they’re not always perfect, but they’re there. That’s what counts.
“I expelled Monoma,” Aizawa says, breaking them out of their thoughts.
“You what?” Shinsou says.
“Good,” Todoroki says at the same time. “Now eat some of this. I’m having to use my quirk to keep it cold, and it’s butterscotch strawberry. Do you know how many stores I had to go to find it? The answer is seven.”
Over the next week, an unexpected amount of Class 1-B apologizes to Kaminari and Shinsou for their classmate’s behavior. Iida tries to make the two of them take it easy for a few training sessions, but Uraraka argues that Midoriya broke his entire arm and still continued in class, which he has to admit is a solid point.
“Thank you,” they say to Kaminari later that day.
“Anytime. I will also take repayment in the form of your dad making apple pie for Friday’s game night.”
“Thank you,” they say to Bakugou later that day.
“I’ve never talked to you before in my life, dickwad.”
“He says you’re welcome,” Kirishima translates, not looking up from the book he’s reading.
True, Shinsou may get a little bit of criticism when they come out, but they’ve got a whole school behind them every step of the way.