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Chapter Text

Aoyama was always, completely and entirely, true to himself. He tried his best to let himself shine, to be bright and great and wonderful. And now more than ever, he was: attending hero school at UA, his future all lining up...

So why did the school uniform make him feel sick?

It was true, it was hard to sparkle in an outfit designed to be so bland, but... He did little things to make it less bad. Painting his nails. Doing his hair every morning. Wearing a cuter shirt underneath the plain white button down. Nice shoes.

Some days, it wasn't so bad. So this one...

Why was his stomach lurching like he had fired off too many lasers? Why did looking at himself in the mirror make him feel sick?

By all means, Aoyama liked how he looked normally. And he liked how his hero costume made him look: like a beautiful knight in shining armor, ready to swoop in and save people from distress. Glamorous and practical all at once.

So why was it that this made him feel so terrible?

Swallowing his thoughts, and his discomfort, Aoyama grabbed his bag. After all, he couldn't afford to be late for class...

Even if he didn't feel very twinkling, at the moment.

***

Everyone else looked comfortable in their uniforms. They looked stylish, even. Some of them. He had to say, he wasn't a fan of how Bakugou sagged his pants, or the odd length of Midoriya's tie. But Tokoyami's crimson neck wrapping matched perfectly with the tie, giving him a crisp look.

And the girls...

Aoyama was bisexual, and without a real preference either way, so it wasn't like he was girl crazy in particular, or anything. Not like a few of the other guys. No, it was just the fit of their uniforms, the skirts, the longer jackets...

And they could customize them so many different ways, if they wanted to. Wearing tall socks, or stockings, or tights... Different jewelry, headbands, hair clips...

Maybe he wouldn't feel as terrible in that uniform.

Immediately, he blushed bright red. No, he couldn't think about that. Never mind. He would forget all about it, and...

No one would know about the skirt he secretly purchased for himself, that he only wore in the privacy of his own dorm room. It made him feel pretty, and confident; not at all like the sickening uniform.

***

Aoyama didn't think he was a girl.

It would make more sense if he was, though, he considered, lying on his bed. He liked 'girls' things, like fashion, and makeup (even if he'd never shown anyone), and talking about crushes, and sleepovers, and doing his hair. Even as a kid, he'd wanted to play with dolls. He liked wearing skirts and shirts cut in on the sides, shaped for someone with curves.

It would all make more sense if he was just a girl.

But he wasn't. He knew that. And that was the frustrating part.

But every time someone called him 'he' and a 'boy,' it grated just a little worse, giving him that upset stomach feeling. Couldn't they tell that he wasn't...

He wasn't a boy.

What was he, then? Aoyama didn't even know who to talk to about this kind of thing. He- not he? What could he use instead?

He had heard people talking about they/them pronouns. That meant people used them... Right?

They. They didn't have many friends. It sounded odd to say at first, but... It didn't feel awful and nauseating like 'he' did, and wrong like 'she.' So... Maybe that was a win.

They didn't have many friends, so they didn't really have anyone to talk to about this kind of thing. They knew that Uraraka and Asui were both trans, but talking to them about this because of that would just be rude, right? A lot of people didn't want to talk about that kind of thing.

Right.

They were just... Not a boy. Like Thirteen! Immediately, they shot upward, sitting upright. How did Aoyama not think of Thirteen? What was the word they used to describe themselves? Nonbinary.

Maybe they were just nonbinary.

Maybe.

But for now... Sleep. They really did need their beauty rest.

***

"Um... Ahem. Mr. Aizawa." Aoyama cleared their throat, trying to catch the, sleeping, teacher's attention. "Mr. Aizawa?"

"Hmmm?" Mr. Aizawa moved his head, turning further into the sleeping bag. "Hrrmp...."

They took a deep breath. "Mr. Aizawa?"

"What? I heard you the first time, Aoyama." He smacked his lips, blinking his bloodshot eyes open. "Class isn't scheduled to begin for another twenty minutes. What could you possibly want?"

"I... Well..."

"Go ahead. Spit it out."

Aoyama squeezed their eyes shut, clenched their hands into fists, and blurted it out. "I was wondering if I could switch to having the feminine school uniform."

Silence.

Mr. Aizawa blinked. "Repeat that. Slowly. And this time in actual, comprehensible language."

Their heart froze, but... They couldn't back down now, right? "I was wondering if I could put in an application to switch my school uniform to the feminine one, and where I would do that?"

For a second, fear coursed through their body. Aizawa was giving them a puzzled look, and the answer already felt like a 'no,' but-

"I don't handle that kind of thing, but I could pass along the paperwork." He offered. "If you want to talk to someone, know that, well, Hound Dog is available, as well as the staff... And I am willing to listen as well, if you need someone."

Tears welled up in their eyes.

"Merci beaucoup, sir!" Aoyama felt sparkling, amazing, glittering from head to toe already. "And, if I could..."

"Yes?"

"Could you refer to me... With they/them pronouns? I'm just trying them out, but they feel far better already." They explained, looking down at their feet. "Though, I would be understanding if that change were to be-"

"Aoyama." Mr. Aizawa unzipped his sleeping bag, climbing out of it and standing up. "That change isn't too much at all, and I'm honored that you felt safe enough to tell me. I don't have much expertise in that area - Thirteen would be someone to talk to - but I will try to do anything I can to make you more comfortable with your current situation. Are you alright rooming on the boys side of the dorms?"

Aoyama nodded, unable to help the smile on their face. "I don't mind that at all, sir. That's just where my dorm is."

"And you can work out locker rooms and the like with Recovery Girl, or Hound Dog." He added. "Since, as of about now... Iida is about to arrive."

He wasn't wrong, and soon enough other students began filing into the classroom. And as each of them came in, they wondered how they would react. If they would like them even less. But...

All Aoyama could do was be true to themselves, and keep on twinkling.

Chapter Text

It was hard to be happy all the time.

To everyone else, the 'Bakusquad' was a chaotic mess of energy, though generally optimistic... Despite its central member and namesake. But Mina? She knew the truth.

They were all falling apart a little bit at the seams, some more than others. Some faster than others, more often...

No one was making any arguments that Bakugou was lighthearted or happy in anyway, really. He was angry, brash, and yeah, mean to a lot of people. But around the squad... It was a different kind of angry, sometimes. On bad days. It turned into a kind of angry that seemed to tear himself apart on the inside, working himself to death, only eating and sleeping and taking care of himself because his body was powerful and needed to be in good condition to win.

And Jirou wasn't particularly upbeat either, but most people didn't see her on bad days, when she wore noise canceling headphones to get rid of all the sounds she couldn't help but pick up that were so loud to her, quiet to everyone else. Footsteps. Fingernails on paper. Clothing rubbing together. Nobody else saw her when she had migraines that left her alone in dark rooms, or when she got frustrated about her music and just cried.

All of the villain attacks and everything else had a weird affect on Kaminari, leaving him paranoid sometimes, jittery and unable to really stop moving until he was forced, or he fell asleep.. It was sickening, watching him have to check that all of his friends were okay, his hands picking at his jeans, his his nails, twisting his hair between his fingers. Trying to reassure him that everything was okay as he had anxiety attacks, squeezing his hands into fists, digging his nails into his skin.

Sero got lonely, sometimes. It was more of a thing where he would just text the group chat, asking who was up, if he could come and cuddle up to someone. He didn't really talk about it - maybe there was nothing to talk about - but he always looked so sad, like he'd been crying recently. It was such a stark difference to his signature smile that it broke her heart.

And Kirishima's depression was a lot worse than he let on. There were days they struggled just to get him out of bed and out to class because he couldn't move, because being awake was painful. Feeling anything was an accomplishment, not a given. Smiling was hard, let alone trying to be there for anyone else. He hated anyone else seeing him like that.

Shinso was their newest 'member,' if you could call him that, of the squad, but already his insomnia was no secret. Depending on how much he had slept recently he he would act entirely different, sometimes snapping at them, paranoid, anxious, bitter... Other times sweet, laid back, calm. They tried to take care of him, but you couldn't make him sleep. He couldn't make himself sleep.

It was hard. But mostly because Mina couldn't do a thing about any of it. She had become a hero to stand up for others, to help them, like she had in middle school. But here, and now...

All that she could do was be happy all the time, trying to lift their spirits.

To be honest, though... It was all starting to wear pretty thin. She was running on coffee, iced coffee, and tea, barely managing to keep up the bubbly quality of her personality. Bright colored, mismatched socks stuck up over her green tennis shoes, some things she got to make her uniform less boring. Her bracelets took up the same space as the cuff of her jacket, but that was fine. They were all colorful and happy-

And one was the friendship bracelet she made. Each member of the squad had one, either as a bracelet or as an anklet... Or in Kiri's case, a keychain. His quirk was just too likely to destroy his. Even Bakugou wore one... On his ankle, so no one would see it.

Some days, it felt like that was all that held them together. Her resolve and some pieces of thin string all wound together in a pretty pattern. One of these days it would all fall apart and she would-

"Mina! Watch out!"

Before she could even realize what was going on, Shoji's punch hit her head on, right in the nose. Another one of his hands grabbed her. He was flipping her over, and...

Before he knew it, she was pinned, tied up, and taken out of the training exercise. Fuck.

"Damn it, Pinky's down!" Bakugou barked to the rest of their team, firing off another blast. "Stop acting like idiots and fight them!"

And if she hadn't spaced out, if she had just been involved...

Because it was true that she was falling behind a little, too. At the training camp, she was in the remedial classes. She didn't make great grades. It was all just the same old thing: tying hard at all of it, working, doing her best, and ending up just okay.

Time ticked by slowly.

"Alright, training is over. Head to the showers." Mr. Aizawa announced, still just leaning up against the wall like he'd rather be napping.

Shoji came back around and untied her, and Mina dragged herself up to sit, but... Before long she was alone. The last one in here, the last of the students to go hit the showers.

She just couldn't bring herself to move. Because as soon as she did it would be her job to get up and smile again, to provide safety and happiness and make sure everything was okay. It was nice to have a break, for a moment. Not to be reassuring someone that everything was fine.

That everything was-

"Ashido, are you alright?"

Mr. Aizawa was standing over her, reaching a hand down to help her up. When he got there, she didn't know. All she knew was that-

Oh, fuck it.

Taking his hand, she pulled herself up and threw herself into his arms. Right now, she just needed a hug. Tears were springing to her eyes, probably wetting his scarf, but she didn't care, particularly.
For a moment he was stiff, awkward, but... Carefully, he hugged her back.

"Is there something wrong?" He asked softly, gentler than she had ever heard him speak.

"No I just-" She sucked in a breath. "I mean. I just feel like I need to be happy for my friends, because they're all going through so much but I'm so stressed out, and-"

"Their mental wellbeing is not your responsibility." Aizawa stated clearly, not pulling away from the hug, just letting her still hold on. "You need to worry about yourself, Ashido. Think about a serving pitcher, right?"

"...right?"

"If it's empty, can anyone be served?" He asked.

"No." Mina started to realize what he meant, pulling away from the hug. "So, I need to fill myself up before helping others?"

"Exactly. It's good to look after your friends," Aizawa reassured her. "But not to an extreme where it's causing damage to your own self or your own performance. Be honest with how you're doing."

She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I'm sad. And stressed. And tired."

"...Hound Dog is better with that part, but if you would like to talk to me-"

"No, it's all good." Mina nodded, wiping at her eyes. "I just... Needed to say it, that's all. Thank you, Mr. Aizawa."

"If you ever need me." He nodded back.

And it really was hard to be happy all the time; but she didn't have to be. She didn't have to be.

And that was okay.

Chapter Text

As a general rule, Tsu tried not to get too worked up about things. Getting worried just meant that you weren't thinking clearly, so you wouldn't make good choices, anyway. So really, it just wasn't worth it. If something was on her mind for too long, she generally just tried to confront it, deal with whatever the thing was, then move on.

But she was a little stuck in a hole.

A metaphorical hole.

Tsu swallowed, staring at herself in the mirror. That was the thing: she was pleased with how she looked, for the most part. There were obviously some things that she didn't like. She, just like many other trans girls, had dysphoric days. But, to be honest? It wasn't as bad as most people she had met. Having gotten on hormone blockers so early on, getting HRT, all of that had helped her.

Obviously, that wasn't the route everyone decided to take, and that was just fine. That was their choice, not hers, and she respected that. And usually, that was the end of that.

Usually, she didn't stare at herself in the mirror like this, agonizing over whether or not she was actually cute.

Because that wasn't worth worrying about. Some people would think she was cute, some people wouldn't. Just like how Selkie's 'cute face' was apparently embarrassing to his shipmates, but she thought that it was cute. Not the same kind of cute, obviously; but the point still stood.

Attractiveness was objective.

So why was she letting herself worry about it?

Big eyes were considered cute on cartoon characters, stuffed animals and things like that. Big mouths? Not so much. Small lips and petite chins were more in popular style, from what she could tell.

Her hairstyle was definitely cute. If there was one thing for sure, people loved her hair. It was long and glossy, and she could do a lot of interesting things with it. But still, even though her hair was an extension of her, it was mostly just a form of self expression.

And her body... Tsu blushed. It was alright. Having a quirk that affected how you look certainly played into how cute she was, with big hands and feet that weren't exactly what people thought of when they considered a cute girl, but... Maybe if she stood up straight she'd be cuter. Ochako always stood up so straight, upright and peppy. Joy always seemed to radiate out from her, so bright and happy and-

"Ribbit..." Tsu's cheeks turned even redder, a lump rising in her throat.

But wait. Was she just comparing herself to Ochako this whole time? That was an interesting thought. She was absolutely adorable, and so sweet, and so feminine, and everyone thought she was cute...

"And she's the other trans girl in class." Tsu thought out loud, pressing a finger to her cheek. "It's just hard for me not to compare, in that way."

It was true that Ochako was adorable. She was just about the prettiest girl Tsu had ever seen, with her soft brown hair sweeping around her round cheeks to frame her pretty little face, her chocolate brown eyes, the gentle curve of her pretty pink lips. Her body was so soft, the curve of her shoulders, her hips, how small and adorable her hands looked...

But, just because Tsu was different didn't mean that she wasn't also cute. What was it that Mr. Aizawa said in his lecture the other day?

"Don't compare yourself to your fellow students in anything but scores and technique. Those are things you can improve." He had paused, looking around the room at all of them, making pointed eye contact with a few. "It's most likely that all of you are already jealous of someone for some reason or other. Their quirk, their control, their lack of backlash on their body from their quirk; any of these things. All you can do is improve yourself and encourage your classmates. All jealousy results in is bitterness and resentment, which lead to actions that can and will get you expelled. It has before. Understand?"

None of them really thought anything of it at the time, but... It was a good reminder now. All jealousy lead to was bitterness and resentment.

Not that she ever thought she could resent Ochako. Her crush on her was, well... She had quite the crush, and they had a good, solid friendship besides. But...

Just because Ochako was cute, and adorable, and radiant, and incredible, and talented, and lovely, didn't mean that she couldn't also be cute. Just in a different way. After all, she definitely didn't think that everyone she knew was cute in the same way. Selkie and Ochako weren't anything close to the same, relationally, in looks, or anything. And yet the one face, and Ochako all the time? Were both cute.

Right. And now, maybe she could stop thinking about it.

Tsu nodded, looking herself over in the mirror again. Yep, she loved herself. And it didn't matter if other people thought she was cute or not; she did. Besides, wasn't that what really mattered in the end?

***

"Hey, Mr. Aizawa, I wanted to thank you for something you said in class the other day."

Tsu figured that after their hero training was done for the day would be the best time to talk to him; after all, it would be a quick conversation. Catching him afterwords was easy.

Harder, it seemed, would be explaining what she meant by that.

"When you talked about jealousy in class, I feel like most of us just kind of listened and didn't think much of it, to be honest." She admitted, putting a finger on her cheek. "I know I didn't, at first. But I remembered what you said yesterday, and it got me out of a bit of a hole I had dug myself into. And I wanted to let you know."

And, for the first time she had ever seen, Mr. Aizawa genuinely smiled. "Thank you, Tsu."

"You're welcome, Mr. Aizawa. Now, I should probably go change, so... Thank you, again."

"You're welcome. And I'm glad to hear at least one of you problem children was listening."

She smiled, giving a quick nod and a ribbit before heading out to the locker room. That was just how Mr. Aizawa was; she knew that.

And she could worry about her crush on Ochako later. But, right now? Just going with the flow was a lot better. After all, it sure wasn't worth stressing about.

Chapter Text

Winter break was fast approaching, and Iida was... Trying his best to be excited. After all, he should be, right? It was Christmas. All of his other classmates were bubbling over with anticipation... Save for the ones who couldn't be expected to be excited. Bakugou and Todoroki just weren't holiday people. Apparently.

But this year, he couldn't bring himself to be very joyous, either.

Well, that wasn't true. He was looking forward to having the whole family together, to all of their traditions, but now more and more things, well...

He was getting anxious, more than ready.

It was a tradition for them all to decorate the tree together. For he and his brother and cousins to take turns putting up ornaments in age order. Tensei always put up the first one, since he was the oldest.

But...

Would he be able to do that this year? Being in a wheelchair had certainly made some things more difficult, and reaching things was certainly a strain. Besides, he got tired easily. Even though he was in good spirits, they might not be able to do all of the decorating in one night if he wasn't up for it.

It wasn't that Iida was upset because his brother's injury was costing him his holiday traditions; that was ridiculous. It was just that...

This was one of Tensei's favorite times of year. And they were going to have to find ways for him to be able to do the things they had always done out of tradition. Splitting working on the sugar cookie decorations into a multi-day affair. Maybe invite him to help with the baking, but not expecting it, since the counters were very difficult for him to access well.

He just wanted his brother to be happy. It was still a hard journey going forward, that was for sure, but he was adjusting to life, and so were they all. This was just the first Christmas, and things would have to change. They were expected to change.

After all, nothing was really the same.

But winter break wasn't here yet. The bell rang, startling him out of his thoughts. Thankfully, they just had the last section of time in English to work on their homework, so he hadn't missed anything important zoning out like that. Still, he should have been getting more work done than-

"Hey, Iida, what about you?" Uraraka asked, an ever present cheerful smile on her face. "What are your plans for winter break?"

Iida forced a smile. "Oh! My family will all be getting together at my Grandfather's house. It'll be good to get to see everyone again! I have a few cousins I hardly ever get to see, so we should be able to do some catching up."

Grandfathers house. How wheelchair accessible was it? They already went through some of that with their own home, even though Tensei would inevitably move out when he was more recovered, so that things would be easy for him when he visited. But Grandfather's house was another ordeal entirely, he couldn't even begin to think of all the things...

"That sounds great, Iida." Asui smiled. "I think most of us are pretty much just spending time with our families, but that's pretty much what it's about. Ochako?"

"Yep! Unlike some people in the class, I'm not going anywhere crazy!" Uraraka declared.

He had overheard Yaoyorozu's plans to go to Barbados for the break. That did seem a tad... Bizarre, but he hoped that she had a wonderful time.

"Yeah, my mom and I pretty much always just hang out together." Midoriya agreed. "Todoroki?"

Todoroki looked thoroughly caught off guard. "We should get to class."

"Of course!" Iida sprang to his feet. "Right away!"

***

"Alright. Everyone, go hit the showers. Class Rep, stay here, I need to talk to you for a moment."

As soon as Aizawa said that, all of the blood felt like it had drained out of Iida's body. Had he done something wrong? Had he made a mistake in training? Everyone else filtered off to the lockers, still chatting about winter break, and the training that day, but he stood there in complete silence until they had passed on by.

"Yes, sir! What did you need from me?"

Mr. Aizawa looked him straight in the eye. "You've been distracted all week, and it seems to be getting worse. What's going on?"

Silence. His heart was racing.

"...oh. I suppose I have been quite distracted, haven't I?" Iida swallowed. "It's just the winter break coming up, if I'm honest, sir."

He raised an eyebrow.

"With my brother's current condition, I suppose I'm worried about making everything perfect. I keep remembering new things that he can't do anymore, or traditions that would be difficult for a person in a wheelchair. It's his favorite holiday, and-"

Iida didn't know where the tears came from, but suddenly he was crying, tears not falling, but welling up in his eyes.

"-and I don't want him to have to sit out of any part. I want to involve him as much as possible, but at the same time... He gets tired, and he can't do as much before he needs to rest. And that's alright! I'm not complaining about my brother in any way, I deeply respect and care about Tensei and that's why I don't want any part of this to be anything shy of perfect."

He sighed, wiping his eyes and looking down at the floor.

"But more things keep coming up, and I know that there will have to be things left out, or things he can't do. He can't go sledding anymore, or hang the star on the top of the tree. And he puts on a strong face, but when you're already in a precarious position it doesn't take much for something to make you feel terrible, and I worry that one of those things-"

"Iida." Mr. Aizawa interrupted, laying a hand on his shoulder. "I can assure you, your brother wouldn't want you to worry about it."

Iida blinked.

"You're already putting so much thought into this, and that shows how much you truly care. Thinking you can solve all of his problems, or thinking you can make everything you used to do before work now, is naïve. But what you can do is include him in as much as possible, and make sure that you're there for him. And I have no doubt you will continue to do that."

His eyes started to water again. "Thank you, Mr. Aizawa."

"You're welcome. You're a good brother, Iida." Mr. Aizawa smiled. "Now, go shower. And don't be so distracted."

"Right! I promise to do my very best, sir!"

Because it wouldn't be perfect, sure; but nothing was. And Iida at least found himself looking forward with anticipation more than anxiety now.

Chapter Text

Ochako figured that there was something wrong with her.

She was a girl. That wasn't what was wrong with her, that was all good. She figured it out a few years ago, at the beginning of middle school, when everything was awful with the world and being a girl suddenly made everything make sense. Her parents were supportive, letting her grow out her hair, dress how she wanted to, learn how to do makeup - she amassed those things slowly, over time, not buying too many things at once because she knew what kind of inconvenience this was already, and she didn't want to be a financial burden too.

It was a struggle, but she made it work.

And yeah, she was bullied for it. People can be pretty awful. But she got through that, and now she was at UA where they had a no discrimination policy that was actually enforced pretty well. People can be kind. She could really just let herself be... Herself here.

Which meant having a crush.

Well, not necessarily, but... Wasn't that just what high schoolers did? And besides, well... Maybe it was the fact that he was the first boy she saw, and he was so nervous for the exam, then he saved her. Maybe it was when Aoyama suggested it during their midterm together. Who knows when exactly it was, but at some point, she had decided that she had a crush on Deku?

It just made sense. He was a cute boy, after all. Short, with big eyes, and pretty green hair, and an adorable smile, and the cute little way she stuck her tongue out when she was concentrating...

Wait. When did she stop thinking about Deku?

See, that was the problem. Every time she tried to convince herself that she was attracted to him it just... Didn't work. It was like she was broken or something. Ochako didn't really need to have a crush, of course. And besides, that wasn't normally something you picked out. But still! Why couldn't she just... Fall for Deku?

Oh well, she figured, shaking her head. Just because she's never really had a crush on a boy didn't mean she wasn't a real girl. In elementary school, she didn't know she was a girl, so that didn't count when she had little crushes on other girls; that was what people expected. And then in middle school she barely had any friends, let alone any friends who were boys. All the boys were mean to her.

So... Maybe she just had to get over that. Yeah. Once she stopped thinking boys would be mean to her, she'd like them.

But she really didn't think Deku would be mean to her, and she never had. The meanest thing he'd ever said was probably that he was fed up with her bullshit once when she had taken a joke too far, and he was laughing while he said it. There wasn't a mean bone in that boy's body. He was harmless.

So why...

Frowning, Ochako squeezed her eyes shut. She could worry about this all night, if she kept at it, but she really, really needed sleep. After all, there was a lot of work to do in the morning.

***

"Alright, class, listen up." Mr. Aizawa cleared his throat, his normally bored face looking especially irritated today. "Today's topic is one that I... Don't believe should be in the curriculum. But, according to the school, it pertains to making sure that you lead happy and fulfilled lives as heroes. Each of you look around you."

They all did as they were told, looking around them. Ochako met Tsu's eyes, and turned away blushing. She was just so cute, she couldn't help it! Tsu was such a good friend.

"Now, high school relationships only make up approximately two percent of all marriages and long term partnerships, and work relationships make up another sixteen percent. That, however, is for civilians." He sighed, frowning over at the door. "Very few heroes are married, as you know. The percentage is small enough and fluctuates enough that it wasn't worth putting in your textbook, and long term partnerships make up a great number of hero relationships as well. However, one thing is common in almost all of those: it's nearly always two heroes together."

People started murmuring across the room, repeating the fact, asking questions-

"Be quiet." Mr. Aizawa glowered. "Myself and my husband met in school, the same os true for many others. Some met through agencies, or just working together on patrols and special missions. The fact of the matter is, civilians cannot fully understand the stress of a hero's life, which puts strain on any relationship. This should have been indicated in your reading, in the..."

Ochako kept taking notes, paying close attention, but the most important note was at the top of the page.

"Husband?"

***

"Excuse me, Mr. Aizawa? May I ask you about something you said during your lecture?"

Immediately, his nose wrinkled. "Yes. Go ahead, Uraraka."

She could tell he didn't want to talk about the lecture; hell, he didn't even want to teach it, but... "Well, it's not really about the lecture, but it is something you said... You have a husband?"

Mr. Aizawa's face relaxed. "Yes. I have a husband. I don't often talk about my relationship, but I am married."

"That's wonderful! But, I..." Ochako's eyes drifted to the floor. "You see... Is it normal to not like people of the opposite gender then?"

The clock ticked a few times as he looked her over with wide eyes.

"Uraraka, there's nothing wrong with not being attracted to boys. There's nothing wrong with being a boy who's into boys, a girl into girls, or neither entirely. And you don't have to have it all figured out, either."

"I don't have to have it all figured out." She repeated, then nodded. "I thought I had a crush on Deku; I mean, I pretended that being around him made my heart race and I made myself excited and everything, but..."

He shook his head. "You don't have to fake your feelings for anyone."

Ochako smiled. "That sounds like something Tsu would say. She's always so wonderful, and so smart! And really pretty, too... Oh wait. Is that a crush?"

Mr. Aizawa just chuckled, shaking his head.

"She makes my heart race for real, and I blush when I see her... Do I have a crush on Tsu! Is that why-?"

Her eyes went wide.

Of course that's why. She was imagining green hair and big eyes and a cute little nose, but with a big mouth and large hands held in her own...

Oh man, she had it bad.

"Thank you, Mr. Aizawa, for your help!" Ochako bowed, still blushing bright red. "And tell your husband thank you for me too!"

"I'll be sure to tell Hizashi." He assured her. "Now get to class, you've wasted enough time."

"Right! Sorry!"

And even though she was late... She wasn't broken after all. Just a girl who liked girls. And that was okay.

And she had to figure out this crush on Tsu, because suddenly everything was making a lot of sense.

Chapter Text

Growing up, Ojiro never really failed to stand out.

For one, he made a point of carrying himself and acting in a way that made sure he didn't end up hanging out with the wrong crowds. Even if they knew he could beat people up, bullies never bothered trying to get Ojiro to join them; he was too nice. At least, that's what he hoped people thought about him. He never really asked.

For two, he was a master martial artist. Any martial art he learned, he was training in it all the time after school, from the time he was just a little kid. That was just what he loved to do, what he was really passionate about. Watching training videos and old competition videos of him absolutely killing it, splitting wooden planks like they were nothing, slamming into Kirishima with his tail - he really was very good.

And third, he had a tail. That was enough to say. It wasn't a real flashy quirk, but still enough to make him stand out from the other kids. Enough to make pants shopping a nightmare, too; he elected to wear robes a lot of the time.

There were other things, too, that were generally smaller. He made decent grades. He followed ethics that made him seem like a hero, or he hoped so. All through elementary and high school, he had an idea of what he wanted to be, and relatives told him he'd be good at it.

But, at UA...

He wasn't standing out at all. He got eighth on the midterm, which wasn't bad, overall. And he and Iida passed the physical portion, too... But he couldn't help the feeling that it was just because of Iida. What if he wasn't doing well enough?

What if Mr. Aizawa decided to expel him because he wasn't showing enough potential anymore?

He didn't need to stand out over everyone else. In fact, he would prefer to not stand out. Being a background guy, not having the spotlight... It was kind of nice. But at the same time, that meant that no one noticed him at all. No one saw how well he did, what kind of skills he had, or really anything about him.

Beyond his tail.

Bakugou called him 'Tail,' in fact. Shinso called him a monkey. He was used to all of the names, but now, all of that, being called an extra, a side character...

He did feel like he was being left behind by everyone else. All of the others were developing special moves with their quirks, and he had no idea how to do that. All of the other kids with mutation quirks had come up with special moves, from Shouji's Octoblow to Hagakure's Light Refraction. And he just...

Had a tail.

It was like Ojiro had to work twice as hard to just be mediocre, and he was still slipping further. He wasn't good enough, and it was so frustrating. He felt terrible, and it was awful because he had no real reason to, but-

"Hey, Ojiro!" Hagakure waved her uniform sleeve in front of his face. "Lost in thought, dream boy?"

He couldn't help but smile; everything about her was so cute, from her little voice to the nicknames she gave him all the time...

"Yeah, I guess." Ojiro shrugged. "I've got a lot on my mind. What's going on with you?"

She shrugged, the shoulders of her blazer rumpling. "Not much. Ugh, do you understand that math homework we got from Ectoplasm?"

"...not really. Do you want to work on it together?"

"Yeah!" Hagakure jumped up in that cute little way she did... "You're the best, Blondie."

She pressed a kiss to his cheek, making him blush bright red.

"Uhh... O-okay, let's go."

***

"Ojiro, do you have a moment?"

It was after hero training, and he was... Exhausted. Everyone was, all sweaty and tired out. But Ojiro wasn't expecting Mr. Aizawa to ask to talk to him, that was for certain.

He swallowed his fear, casting an uncertain glance over at Hagakure's gloves for strength before stepping forward to meet his teacher. "Yes, sir? What is it?"

All of the other students were in the locker rooms before they began speaking.

"A fellow classmate of yours was concerned about your wellbeing." Mr. Aizawa explained, looking him over. "How are you doing?"

Ojiro froze in place. "Well... I think I'm okay."

"Good. If things change, you can talk to Hound a Dog about anything that comes up. Don't hesitate to take advantage of that fact." He nodded. "But, if everything's alright..."

"Sir? Can I ask you a question, though?"

"Of course." Mr. Aizawa raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"How am I doing? As a student." He swallowed, wiping his sweaty hands off on the pants of his hero costume. "I feel like I'm falling behind, or like I'm not doing as well as any of the others."

Like I'm not worthy to be here, he thought, but didn't actually say. Like I'm not worthy of how friendly Hagakure is to me. She was so wonderful, and adorable, and believed in him so much, and he couldn't help feeling like he was disappointing her, and everyone else around him.

"You're doing well, Ojiro." Mr. Aizawa stated. "Compared to some of the others? Of course you're not in the same league. But you're not the same kind of hero. Would you fault Satou for not being fast on his feet? Or Jirou for not being the best hand to hand fighter? Or Hagakure for not standing out the most?"

"No. Of course not."

"You are good at what you do, Ojiro." He assured him. "You are incredibly stealthy, and your martial arts skills and general strength have improved vastly since the beginning of the year. You have great potential, and while I encourage you to strive to become a better version of yourself, this kind of comparison is just tearing you down."

"Right." Ojiro nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Aizawa... And if you don't mind me asking, who talked to you about me?"

He chuckled. "Who do you think? Hit the showers."

Hagakure was worried about him. With that thought making all the blood in his body flood to his cheeks, Ojiro made his way to the locker room. He would have to thank her. Maybe get her some of the salt water taffies that she liked, or some flowers for being such a nice friend.

And maybe he'd eventually just tell her he liked her.

Because he may not really stand out, anymore. But neither did Hagakure. So maybe they could not stand out together.

He didn't really mind, that.

Chapter Text

Kaminari couldn't focus.

He really was trying, trying, trying, but the only things that were coming to him were odd sounds in the classroom, repeating over and over again. The clock ticking in its back and forth way, up and down and up and down. The scratching sound of Todoroki sketching on his paper instead of taking notes, like he always did. The rustling fabric of twenty students moving and shifting, crossing and uncrossing their legs. Jirou tapping out a song on her desk with her pen, that he couldn't figure out the verses to.

But he had figured out what song it was, at least, and the chorus was stuck, stuck, stuck inside his head and he couldn't fucking focus. Fuck, everything was screaming inside his head, like it was all closing in around him, getting closer, smaller, and he could feel the electricity growing in his veins-

But he had to calm it down.

He was in class. In class, class, class, and there wasn't actually any danger. Everyone was safe. There was Bakugou, who wasn't kidnapped, just sitting right there, living and breathing right in front of them. And there was Kirishima, and Mina, and Sero, and Shinsou, and Jirou-

They were okay. The whole class. He checked them one by one: Midoriya, Hagakure, or at least her uniform, Tokoyami-

It was getting hard to breath in here. Noises were getting loud, and sparks were starting to connect from him to his desk, to the buttons on his blazer, to the floor-

"Calm down. Calm down, calm down, calm down..." Kaminari muttered to himself, barely just breathing the words, digging his fingernails into the palms of his hands.

He didn't know why that helped. The feeling was like a ground wire, keeping him calm, collected. And he needed to calm down, to be relaxed, to chill out. Everything was fine.

They just all thought he was crazy.

He knew that they were looking at him, staring at him.

They just all-

"Hey man, you okay?" Kirishima tapped him on the back, immediately getting shocked by the electric buildup.

He jolted backward. Someone laughed. It was funny? It was funny he hurt his friends on accident, that he couldn't focus on the lecture, that he couldn't hear what the hell Present Mic was talking about because the chorus of that song in his head was too loud, and the laugh, echoing over and over and over again-?

They all just think I'm stupid, don't they?

They all think I'm crazy.

I'm dying and they think I'm crazy.

I don't want to die alone.

Kaminari really couldn't breathe by now, the clock kept ticking, ticking, ticking, forced air back and forth through his throat just enough to keep him sitting upright. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill over, threatening to fall.

He was dying, staring at the clock. Watching it tick. Listening to how the sounds rose and fell.

But at least everyone else was safe. Everyone except-

The bell rang, and Kaminari was one of the first out of the seats. He was up and to the door in a moment, electricity arcing from his hand to the doorknob, hesitating only to watch the sparks a moment before throwing open the heavy door, and rushing down the hall.

The knob was charged now, electricity coursing through it.

But he had to find him. He had to.

Breath ragged, body feeling like it was tearing itself apart, the sounds of people chattering in the halls, of footsteps, of clocks and pencils and songs stuck in his head all clattered together into one deafening cacophony. Pressing his hands over his ears didn't help. He did anyway, wishing it would.

Throwing the classroom door open, he found Mr. Aizawa right where he expected: napping on the floor, curled up in that awful yellow sleeping bag. Safe. Not dead, not gravely hurt, not torn apart by villains and their Nomu. Safe. Alive.

Alive.

Kaminari breathed a sigh of relief, collapsing to the floor a decent distance from his sleeping teacher. He could relax. He was okay, they were a all okay, there were no villains here, nothing was going to hurt them-

Slowly, breath still catching in his lungs, electricity still arcing out from his body to everything nearby, he started to calm down. It was okay. He was safe. He wasn't dying. He could feel the cold floor under him, the fingernails dug into his palm hard enough to draw blood, the tightness of his tie around his neck-

A gentle hand, resting on his shoulder.

Eyes snapping open, Kaminari looked up in terror at the person standing over him. A villain? A monster? A Nomu? That terrifying fire guy who broke in at the training camp, who wasn't actually a real guy at all but a copy, a fake-

But his eyes settled on Mr. Aizawa, gently placing his hand on his shoulder, softly giving instruction about how he should keep breathing, matching it to his own slow pace.

His breathing slowed. His heart calmed down. The sounds, though still repeating, seemed to quiet.

"Are you alright?"

Kaminari wanted to speak, but he found himself unable to. Instead, he nodded.

"Can you speak?" Mr. Aizawa asked, still barely above a whisper. "It's alright if you can't."

He shook his head.

"Would you like a few minutes to yourself?"

Kaminari shook his head, reaching out and grabbing his sleeve. It felt stupid, childish, but... He didn't want him to go. He couldn't let him leave, because then he wouldn't know where he was and he would know if he was safe.

"Would you like me to stay with you?"

Embarrassed, he nodded, then started trying to formulate words-

"You don't need to explain yourself, if you don't want to. It's fine. I'll stay." Mr. Aizawa nodded, sitting down more comfortably. "If you feel like you would rather go back to your room, or to Recovery Girl's office, or even to class, just get my attention and I'll ask. Alright?"

Kaminari nodded, and, remembering some of the little bit of JSL he had picked up from Kouda... "Thank you."

He just nodded, a faint smile on his lips as he turned away his head. It probably wasn't something that Mr. Aizawa thought he saw, but he did, nonetheless.

When he went back to class later, yeah, everyone was a little bit weird about it. But it was okay; because he knew that everyone was safe. That he was safe.

And if this happened again, he had someone safe to go to, who knew how to deal with it.

Chapter Text

Three day weekends were the worst for Kirishima. His moms were busy with something else - which he didn't mind, that just meant that he couldn't go home for the weekend. Longer time to hang out with the squad, right...?

Well, no, because they were all busy doing other things.

Bakugou had been practically dragged out of the UA dorms by the hair by a blonde lady everyone assumed was his mom. He texted later he had to go with their family on a weekend business trip where they would be doing... Fashion... Things? He felt so bad for him. Bakugou was going to die. Or someone else was. One of the two, for sure. It wouldn't be fun.

Sero had been really looking forward to going home and getting to see his sister for a while, so there was no way he was spoiling that. They were practically always video calling normally, so actually getting to go see her would be great.

Kaminari's family was going camping, and he could only drag along one friend to make the suffering less prominent for him. Unfortunately, Mina nabbed the spot before he could say that he wanted to go. Shinsou was, for obvious reasons, disqualified. They didn't want it to turn into that kind of camping trip.

And Jirou went to visit her mom and dad, too. He didn't know her all that well, but from the sounds of things, they were a pretty close family.

And Shinsou was out with whichever parent wasn't at the dorms at the moment, visiting with his cats. Apparently. Well, that's what he had said, but Kirishima had overheard Present Mic say that they were planning on doing something earlier on in the weekend, and that he wasn't sure when they'd be back. So whichever one was true...

That was the whole squad. But it wasn't like he was only friends with the squad!

But Midoriya and all of his friends were over at Iida's house for a night, before going to their one places, so that was another five classmates. And Shoji and Tokoyami were hanging out, since Tokoyami didn't want to go home over the weekend. And Ojiro and Hagakure had finally started going out, so they were a little unbearable at the moment. And everyone else had gone home for the weekend to visit their families...

Or they didn't want to be around him right now, which was fine too.

And so, Kirishima was alone.

It wasn't so bad, he tried to convince himself. He could handle not being around his friends twenty four seven. But still, it was...

Hard. It was hard waking up Saturday morning, alone, knowing that everyone had left. It was hard lying there, knowing that no matter who he texted, no one could come over and save him from wallowing in his thoughts.

He did that too often.

Because he woke up feeling like this, most mornings. Empty. Alone. Broken. It was like his entire body was numb and gone, like he could just decompose here on this bed and no one would ever miss him.

No one would ever miss him.

And that wasn't even true. He knew that. He had lots of friends, now, and this wasn't like the friends he had in middle school. They loved him, cared about him.

But... Would they really notice if he was gone?

After all, deep down, he really was just the insecure, chunky emo kid from middle school. You can't fully outrun the past.

How much had he really changed?

Kirishima didn't get out of bed all day. It wasn't worth it. He just couldn't bring himself to drag his body up.

***

On Sunday, Kirishima knew he was pathetic. It was terrible, just lying in bed like this. Some people had actual problems.

His friends had actual problems, even. Mina had been diagnosed with that anxiety disorder, recently, after talking to Hound Dog. Kaminari and Bakugou both had panic attacks. Jirou had real depression and anxiety she had been dealing with for years, Shinsou's insomnia, and Sero's issues with his distant family.

All of them had reasons to be sad. To come into his room at night and cuddle up, to want to be held. To ask him to tell them that they were manly, or that it was okay, or not to say anything at all.

But him? He was just...

He was just lying here feeling sorry for himself. He managed to drink some water, to eat a protein bar or two that just tasted like straight up chalk before his stomach twisted up in knots, but besides that...

Fuck, he was pathetic. What kind of hero would he be if he was like this? Sure, it wasn't unmanly at all to rely on your friends, but if he couldn't even function without them? If he just laid in bed like a waste of space, unable to do anything really, actually productive?

That wasn't heroic at all. It wasn't chivalrous, and it wasn't even something a good friend would do. It was like he was using them.

Which is why he looked after them so much. He had to be as much of a hero as possible to them whenever he could, to help them with anything, because he relied on them all so much.

Because without his friends... Kirishima knew he was nothing. He wasn't even a real human being.

***

On Monday morning, someone knocked on the door.

Well, morning was a bit of an overstatement. It was still the three day weekend, still off school, so he didn't have to force himself out of bed to classes. It was eleven fifteen when someone knocked, startling Kirishima out of his thoughts.

"Uhh... Who is it?"

"It's Mr. Aizawa. Are you alright?"

He blinked, wondering if he had heard that correctly. "Yeah... I'm doing... Wait. That's not Shinsou pulling a prank on me, right?"

Shinsou had done that before, using Midnight's voice, and... The rest was history. That made him feel worse somehow; missing his friends was...

"No. Kirishima, you're been in your room since Friday night and, to our knowledge, you have not left since then. That is over two whole days without any proper meals." He paused, taking a deep breath. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm not..." Kirishima sighed. "I'm not hurt. I just... It's not very manly. I just haven't been able to get out of bed."

"Have you been sick?"

"No. There's no reason. I..." He frowned, wringing his hands together. "I'm okay, really Mr. Aizawa. And I've had some protein bars, so it's not like I haven't eaten anything, at least."

"Mm. Alright." Mr. Aizawa grumbled.

After that, everything went silent again.

It was bad enough that he made his teacher worry about him. His teacher. Seriously? He was so pathetic that he couldn't even pull himself together enough for the adults in his life? What happened if he made his moms worry about him? Or his baby sister, when she was old enough to worry?

Kirishima just laid there, tired, eyes squeezed shut.

Until another knock on the door startled him again.

"Who is-"

"It's Mr. Aizawa, again. I brought you food. May I come in?"

Kirishima blinked, the air in his chest stuttering. "Uh... Sure."

He didn't want his teacher to see him like this. He was in the same gross boxers and tee shirt he put on to sleep in on Friday night, his hair was down, and he was... In bed. For no reason. By all means, he should be upbeat and ready to be doing things, but-

Here he was. And he couldn't bring himself to care beyond recognizing how stupid it was.

Mr. Aizawa cracked open the door, slipping inside, but not quite closing it behind him. In one hand he held a bowl of soup, the steam distorting the air above it.

"I figured that you wouldn't be able to stomach very much, so it's just some broth." He explained, handing over the soup. "You need to keep your strength up. I know what it's like to be there, but try to eat. At least a little bit. Alright, Kirishima?"

Had he not been so tired, he might have argued. He might have told him that it had to be different, or that they had to be different, somehow. But right now, he couldn't bring himself to say a word. He just nodded, and tucked into the broth.

That could wait for another day. For now, the manliest thing he could do was listen, and try to eat.

Chapter Text

The presentation wasn't going to be very hard at all. It would be fine. Overall, it wasn't very much of his grade, and he was doing okay in the class, especially for him. And he was well prepared, besides. Kouda knew that, he had read over his notes over and over, his script all planned out on index cards, he had practiced so many times, read the words to so many animal audiences that waited and listened patiently to him-

But still, he was petrified. It didn't matter how much he practiced or planned or anything like that, well, because-

Because, well-

Because it was English class. Which meant he couldn't just use JSL. He would have to actually speak, out loud, with his voice, if he wanted a real grade for it. And that was...

Terrifying.

English had been the hardest midterm for him, by far, back before summer break. Just the idea of speaking out loud stressed him out badly enough that he couldn't do it on a regular basis, choosing to sign instead. The idea that he would mess something up, that everyone would laugh at him, was horrifying. Normal conversation became a monumental task because he was overthinking every word, every step, every little thing.

And then doing it for class? In a language he understood well, but didn't really speak that great? The idea that he would get a bad grade, that Present Mic would think he was stupid, that the class would all laugh at him for stumbling over his words-

It was easier to sign. That way, all of the signs were precise, and easy, and ordered in a way that made sense to him. Tone didn't matter, so he didn't have to worry about accidentally offending anyone if something came out sounding wrong. Usually, the only thing he had to worry about was going just a little too quickly for people to understand him well, and that was easy to correct if he slowed down. People didn't blame him for that.

But he couldn't sign.

Sweating nervously, he read over his index cards again. Kouda felt ashamed of himself; after all, everyone else was doing just fine with this... That had always been his problem in school. Group projects, presentations, they were always the most difficult. People in groups were annoyed with him, because he couldn't really speak, people watching his presentations were irritated because of his stuttering or because of how quiet he was if it was out loud...

There was no way this would go well. A lump was already growing in his throat, and the presentation was tomorrow. The jitters in his stomach, the way he had already bitten his nails down into little tiny stubs...

He wished that there was a group up there with him, for the presentation, despite how much they would hard him. At least that way he wouldn't be so alone, standing up there, talking, without anyone there with him. Someone could be there to help him when he slipped up, or to at least keep him from running out of the room in panic.

Because that's what he felt like doing right now, and the project was tomorrow. It wasn't even today! And yet, he felt like running, like hiding, like his heart was beating out of his chest-

Kouda groaned, setting down his index cards, and his notes, on his desk. He had thought, for sure, that being in a classroom instead of his room would make it more likely for him to be able to really get some work done, but no. No way. Here he was, struggling just like he always was.

But this time, there was no one else here to help him out. It wasn't like physical training exercises, like the midterm he had with Jirou, where he could overcome his fear and do really great, in the end, despite his hesitation.

No, this time it was more like being thrown into the deep end of a pool with heavy weights tied to his feet and only vague recollection of how to swim. If he figured out how to, than he managed to keep his head above water and didn't drown. And if he didn't...

Well, he wasn't good enough. He died. Drowned.

But wasn't that what they wanted, at this school? Not for him to die, of course. Kouda knew that, of course. But they wanted him to conquer his fear, even if that meant failing, over and over and over again. And it hurt, and he didn't know if they knew how much it felt like tearing off parts of himself, or ripping himself open and spilling his guts to the class.

He hated it. He hated all of it, and-

"I didn't expect to see you in here, Kouda." Mr. Aizawa pushed open the door, a stack of papers in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other. "What are you doing?"

Kouda swallowed, raising his hands to sign. "English work. We have a p-presentation tomorrow."

"Really?" He raised an eyebrow, sipping his coffee. "And you're practicing for it in here?"

"Uh, I thought it would help? But I can leave if you-"

"If you're that nervous about it, stay." Mr. Aizawa set down his papers, walking over to the desk in front of Kouda's. "I can help you practice, if you like."

Kouda paled. "Really sir, that's not-"

"If you don't want my help, I'm not forcing it."

"Then I-" He stopped. "Well... If it's not... Is it no trouble?"

Mr. Aizawa shrugged. "I wouldn't offer if it inconvenienced me."

Kouda nodded, grabbing his index cards. "Right... So, I'm sorry if it sucks... Here we go."

He felt better, once he had gone through it once or twice. A teacher thought that it was okay, right? That meant it was alright. He was fine.

And just the idea of Mr. Aizawa backing him up made him feel less alone.

Chapter Text

"Nah, I can't eat this, it has too much sugar, even in just one slice. I could eat that, but not if I also have jelly..." Satou thought out loud to himself, leaning down in front of the common room refrigerator. "Dang it, why does everything always add up to ten grams, eventually?"

Todoroki raised an eyebrow, placing a finger in his book to mark the place before looking up. "Don't you have to eat ten grams all at once?"

"Well, if it's spaced close enough together, it works out to be about the same. One of the main downsides of my quirk... in everyday applications, at least. And besides, ten grams of sugar really isn't very much.” He explained, grabbing a slice of bread and the butter out of the fridge. “For mealtimes I can just ask Lunch Rush to specifically make my meals to be sugar-free, but...”

“That doesn’t exactly apply to snacking.”

“Well, yeah.” Sato nodded, popping the piece of bread in the toaster. “It gets pretty annoying always having to calculate everything....”

“Dude, I can’t imagine! That would suck.” Kaminari flopped down backwards on the couch, with his legs over the back. “I couldn’t make it through the day! You can’t have like, candy? And you have to do math?”

He sighed. “No, not really. Not without being dumb.”

“Cookies?”
“Nope.”

“None of the delicious baked goods you’re always making? Really?” Kaminari had flipped around now, looking at him in shock. “That’s like, torture!”

“Yeah, I don’t eat a lot of the things I make.” Sato shrugged. “I give a lot to Momo, since she needs to eat for her quirk. And other than that, the guys on my floor... And I mean, there's usually a tray in the common room.”

“Dude, the guys on your floor must be so lucky, though.” He groaned. "There's almost never any left in the common room."

Todoroki nodded. “Yeah. It’s pretty great.”

Sato smiled. “Thanks, man.” 

“Still, I can’t imagine spending all of that time on something and then not being able to enjoy it.” Kaminari pointed out. “You must be way more chill than I am. That would drive me like, totally insane. I'd go ballistic."
“Haha, yeah...”

His toast popped out of the toaster, and Sato turned around to butter it. Kaminari said something else to Todoroki that he didn’t hear, but it didn’t matter. Right now he was just thinking...
Kaminari didn’t know how right he was. For a guy who had a reputation as such an idiot, he really was pretty smart. Just not... book smart, maybe. People smart. And Sato really respected that. Hell, he wasn’t the best in school either: he failed his practical midterm, and got twelfth out of the class in the midterms. Which, overall... wasn’t great. Not too bad, but not great. Not when they were all supposed to be so competitive.

But he sure was right about one thing: it sucked to always be baking, and making sugary things for his quirk, to get good at specific sugar amounts... and never be able to eat them? To always have to give them away to other people, to put plates of cookies and cakes and donuts and sweetbreads and candies out only for them to disappear within a matter of hours, without much of a thanks at all? 

It was exhausting. He was exhausted. 
And it wasn’t one of those things that he could actually complain about. If it really bothered him, he could just stop giving his sweets to his classmates. He could stop baking as much, because it really was a thankless task. He really did enjoy it, but... Not being able to eat the fruits of his labor was certainly a downside of it. 

He was tired. It was just tiring.

He was tired of having to count up grams of sugar every time he decided to eat. He was tired of his quirk making all of his dietary decisions. Just tired. 
Of course, other people had more severe downsides to their quirks. Tokoyami’s were obvious. Midoriya was always breaking his bones... well, not anymore, but he used to be. Jirou could hear everything, but that also meant that she could hear hear... everything. And those were just a few; let alone Sero’s dry skin, Iida’s legs cramping up and getting shin splints, Todoroki’s weird temperature control-

All he had to do was watch what he ate. That wasn’t so hard, right? It had a clear answer to it, unlike a lot of their quirks. Bakugou couldn’t control the weird smell of his sweat, and Ojiro couldn’t change any of the odd problems that came with having a tail. It was fine. He was just being-
“Sato, you’ve been buttering that piece of toast for the past three minutes. I’m fairly sure that it’s done.” Mr. Aizawa’s voice startled him out of his thoughts, nearly making him drop the knife.
“Oh! Right.” Sato scrambled to put the knife and the butter away. “Sorry, sir. Just lost in thought, I guess.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you doing alright?”

Guilty, he nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Really.”

He shouldn't make people worry about stuff like that. It was dumb.

“‘Fine’ doesn’t sit and butter the same piece of toast for three whole minutes. I’m not forcing you to tell me anything, but if something is bothering you, I encourage you to tell someone.” Mr. Aizawa looked him in the eye, dead serious. “I don’t want anything to be getting in the way of your performance as a student.”

“Right! It won’t. Really.” Sato swallowed. “It’s just...”
“What is it?”

“Well, it’s not really very serious. Not compared to the villain attacks, or kidnappings, or anything like that.” He explained, eyes drifting to the floor. “I feel a little stupid being bothered by something so silly.”
“If it’s bothering you, it’s not stupid.” Mr. Aizawa argued. “You can talk to Hound Dog about it, or any of the rest of the staff, and believe me, they will take you seriously. We’re here to make you into great heroes; not to belittle you for having problems with things we don’t deem important.”

They won’t belittle you, Sato tried to convince himself. But...

“Even if it’s something that has a really obvious solution that I’m just not taking?”

All he would have to do it stop baking. It wasn’t that hard to just down a bunch of sugar when he was in his hero costume. Baked goods were usually larger and less convenient, anyway. But still, that didn’t mean he wanted to stop. Straight sugar didn't taste as good, and he enjoyed it baking. And besides, his classmates expected that of him by now. 

“Often, situations that seem to have obvious solutions are more complex than they appear.” Mr. Aizawa explained. “Don’t berate yourself over having difficult feelings about them.”

“That... makes a lot of sense.”

“I’m glad.” He nodded. “You’re a smart kid, Sato.”
“Thanks, Mr. Aizawa.”

“Now, you should probably eat that toast. It is almost certainly cold by now.”

“Aw, nuts.”

Chapter Text

Staying up all the day and half the night isn’t exactly where Shouji saw himself halfway through the second semester of his first year studying at UA. Sleep was something that was important to him; you couldn’t function well without it. But...

There were things that were more important than sleep to him, sometimes. Namely, the boy curled up in his arms right now, breathing softly, sound asleep.

Tokoyami didn’t sleep well, normally. He knew that, and had offered that, if he ever needed someone to stay up with him, or just someone to be with, he would happily be that person. And so, after he got over his fear of asking for things from him, realizing that he really did mean it...

Shouji ended up lying awake in bed, cradling Tokoyami in his arms, holding him as gently as possible so that he could get as much restful sleep as possible. Hoping that his presence would fight away the nightmares.

Dark shadow can’t be easy to live with, after all. How many times had he sought out a friend, just to be with him so that he wouldn't be alone? How many times had he chosen to sleep with the lights on? How many times had Shouji caught him snapping a rubber band on his wrist, trying to shock a bit of feeling into his restless, exhausted body?

Gently, with a free arm, he stroked the feathers on his forehead. They were soft, smooth... the line of his brow so unconcerned, so relaxed when he was asleep. So different from when he was awake. Not many people could notice the difference in his facial expressions, but once one got to know him, they were obvious.

It was obvious how much he frowned, normally.

Shouji was no stranger to quirks with backlash, just not... like that. He wasn’t always tall and strong, capable of protecting himself. There was a time that he was bullied, that he needed a hero himself. That only made him more determined to be the kind of hero that he had needed when he was younger. One who stands up for others, no matter how small the situation, just because it’s right, to establish the correct balance. To let kids know what’s actually right. That they don't deserve that treatment.

Now that he was capable of protecting others, he wasn’t going to stop at anything, in any situation. And that meant making sure that Tokoyami was okay, too. It was about being a good friend. 

A good friend.

Well...

Maybe it wasn’t entirely so noble. 

He had to admit, he was drawn to Tokoyami was other reasons, to begin with. Once he had met him, he fell for his personality, but initially...

Tokoyami would never believe that he thought that he was cute. That he still did think he was the most adorable boy in class. With his glossy black feathers and sharp eyes, how crisply his face drew down into his beak, that scarlet ribbon around his neck... 

But with his self esteem, he would never believe that. It was a shame, this gorgeous boy curled up in his arms, wearing a giant hoodie and sweatpants, looking so soft and small and gentle, still covering up his neck even at night because he thought the junction between feathers and skin was too jarring to look at.

Then again, Shouji figured, he wasn’t one to talk about that. He still wore his mask, after all.

He sighed, shifting his arms to make a better pillow for Tokoyami’s head to lie on. If he could, he would take away all of his pain. He would make it so that he never had to suffer from Dark Shadow's antics again. He would take away the scars he knew lined his legs, even though he had never seen them, bandaging them all and healing the skin. He would give him sleep and help and love and hold him until everything was okay.

But that wasn’t how that worked.

You couldn’t make everyone’s problems go away. That just wasn’t realistic. But what he could do was offer to be there for him, to be strong, to be sturdy, to be a stability in all of the craziness of his life. 

Because that's what a friend did.

And if that meant helping him distress a pair of jeans, just to take a knife and bleach to something and destroy it? Than he would remind him to wear gloves and a protective mask when dealing with chemicals, to put away the knife when he was done.

And if that meant listening to his music, loud and screeching and harsh, all the way back down to the soft and sad songs about topics that made him cry thinking about Tokoyami listening to them alone? He would listen to every lyric to every song, tearing apart every word so that maybe he would understand the pain he was in.

And if that meant staying up all day and half the night until Tokoyami was tired out by all of the fighting inside and the yelling in his head? He would stay up for days until he fell asleep, collapsed into his arms, his chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm the only indication that he was alive.

***

But that didn’t mean it was easy during the day. Shouji struggled to keep himself awake during school hours, blinking, clenching and unclenching his hands that weren't taking notes...

Still, it felt nearly impossible. When the bell rang after homeroom it was a relief, if only because one more class was over... And next hour would be English, which was loud enough that he should have no trouble staying awake throughout. Present Mic did a good job with that.

Though, while he was here...

"Excuse me, Mr. Aizawa?"

Mr. Aizawa looked up from the stack of hero laws homework they had turned in that day, red rimmed eyes looking as exhausted as he felt. "Yes, Shouji?"

"I was wondering... You have quite a bit of experience in functioning as a hero under sleep deprived conditions, right?" He glanced down at the papers to avoid those eyes.

Whoever's paper was on the top hadn't done very well at all.

"...What makes you say that?"

"You operate mostly at night." Shouji answered carefully. "I was wondering if you have any tips for being more operational during the day."

Mr. Aizawa sighed. "Well, first of all, you should get some more sleep. You're a student, and studying late isn't good for your body, or your studying."

"I understand that." He nodded. "It's a... It's another circumstance. And staying up at night is just how things are lining up right now."

Raising an eyebrow, Mr. Aizawa looked him over. "I run on coffee and energy gels, mainly. Take naps, if you can, at least a half an hour long. Even if you can't sleep, some rest is better than none... And Shouji?"

"Yes, Mr. Aizawa?"

"Whatever is keeping you up... Good luck with that."

Shouji swallowed. Part of him wanted to tell him about Tokoyami, about what was going on with him, but... That was his business. And if he wanted to talk to a teacher, he would. For now, all he could do was be there.

"Thank you, sir."

All he could do was try his best, morning and night, to be a hero.

Chapter Text

"I mean, everyone's going to be there, it'll be a great time-"

"...but that would be insane if you..."

"I don't know, that sound like a bad idea..."

"But Kacchan! We really are partners on this project, and we have to work together, even if we really don't-"

"Shut up you stupid-!"

"...but I don't really like miso, to be honest-"

"You bastard!"

"-But I didn't even-"

All of her classmates voices layered on top of each other, attempting to drown each other out, worming into Jirou's brain and burrowing into her skull. It was so loud, didn't they all realize how loud they were being? Class was over for the day, they were dismissed, but that still didn't excuse being this loud. She swore it was like being in Present Mic's class with him yelling, even if he wasn't using his quirk, just so fucking-

"Hey, Jirou, are you alright?"

Momo was talking to her. Momo. Beautiful, gorgeous, amazing Momo who spoke softly and smiled like she was looking at the most important thing in the world, her cheeks so round and soft-

"Why would I work on a stupid project with you-"

"-but that's like, totally impossible-"

"Do you want to go to karaoke?"

"Nah, can't. Too much homework-"

Jirou swallowed, squeezing her eyes shut. "Uh, yeah. Fine."

"Well then, do you want to study together?" Momo smiled. "We could work on your part of this project, since you're paired with...?"

"I'm paired with Sato, but..." She swallowed. "I... Can't. I have some..."

"Kacchan! But we have to-"

"...disgusting, Kaminari!"

"Is that really-"

"Why would you say that to me?"

"Did you finish the homework that we were supposed to have done in Literature, today?"

"You should've done it yourself, then you wouldn't-"

"Then I would have it done! And I wouldn't have to-"

Jirou pinched the bridge of her nose. "...I have things I need to finish up today. Maybe later?"

"Yeah!" Momo nodded, picking up her books and clutching them to her chest. "That sounds wonderful. Perhaps this weekend? You could come over for tea!"

Yea. Right. "Yeah. That would be amazing. I'll uh... See you, Momo."

"Yes, I suppose I'll see you around."

Jirou nodded, forcing as much of a smile as she could. The overhead lights felt like they were stabbing her in the eyes, going straight through and burning holes where they should be. A stabbing pain jabbed through the left side of her head, right were it met her neck. All of the sounds, layering over each other, pounding into her head-

"Yeah. Anyway, I've got to..."

"Yeah." Momo took a step back, gathering up her things. "Oh, that reminds me! I should go..."

"Kirishima! Video this!"

"How is that humanly possible!?"

"...want to go to the movies with me this Saturday?"

"-everything so confusing-"

"Sero! Stop!"

Momo left, gathering up her things to go who knew where, all of the noise too much to overhear what she said about where she was going. Jirou wished that she could be going with her, to be walking alongside this gorgeous, beautiful, genius girl...

But instead she was stuck here with a migraine, pushing her fingers into the spot right in front of her ears in hopes that it would quiet the deafening noise, squinting as much as possible to keep out the light-

"Hey, Jirou, you're not looking so good, you need anything?" Kaminari asked from a seat over, just adding to the noise. "Jirou? You okay? Oh, wait. Shit. Can you talk right now?"

"Wait, is Jirou okay?" Kirishima asked, leaning forward in his chair. "You good?"

She pressed her eyes shut, trying not to focus on all of it, trying to just breathe-

"Seriously, you're looking kinda pale-"

"That's a fucking shitty idea! We're doing it my way!"

"-but that's a rom com! I want action! Don't you, Ojiro?"

"I don't know, I've just been feeling-"

Jirou winced, covering up her ears, drawing her knees up to her chest, trying to make herself as small as possible.

Like that would make a difference.

Because the pounding, stabbing, aching pain in her head wouldn't go away, eyes burning, a feeling like a knife through the left side of the back of her head stabbing through, and the awful noise amplified like everyone was screaming all at once-

"-go to Recovery Girl?" Mina's voice asked.

"Don't know, but she doesn't seem good." Kirishima replied.

Someone placed their hand on her back, rubbing gentle circles. She flinched away. The friction from the feeling felt like sandpaper, wearing away at her skin.

"If only Momo were still here, she could make her sound cancelling headphones..." Sero thought out loud.

"Her sound cancelling headphones, of course." Shinsou sighed. "Mina, will you go get them from her room?"

"On it?"

"You okay? Jirou?" Kaminari asked. "You good?"

"-hate this stupid fucking project-"

"What kind of movies do you like, then?"

"What's going-"

The lights flickered off.

"Be quiet." Mr. Aizawa's voice commanded in a harsh whisper. "Leave, most of you. But do it in an orderly fashion."

The sound of chairs rolling backwards, papers and uniforms rustling, and footsteps followed. Bakugou grumbled something else to Midoriya.

The door slammed shut, blinding pain searing through her head. She but her lip to keep from whimpering.

"The rest of you, stop crowding her." He added in an even quieter voice. "That means all of you. I understand that you're concerned about your friend, but you need to understand that crowding her and making a lot of noise won't help."

"Oh, right." Kaminari seemed to realize. "Like after one of my... Well, you guys know. We've gotta be quiet and calm and shi.... Stuff."

"Right. Similar." Mr. Aizawa agreed. "It would be best, most likely, if you left. There's nothing you can really-"

The sound of the door opening startled Jirou enough to open her eyes, which were promptly assaulted by the light pouring in from the hallway.

"I got her headphones!" Mina declared, holding up the said item as she made her way over. "Why's the room all dark now?"

"Light sensitivity is very common with migraines." Mr. Aizawa explained, still in a whisper, accepting the headphones in an outstretched arm before handing them to Jirou.

Gratefully, she pulled them on.

Everything was instantly better. Sure, it was still a little bright, with the door open, but looking away from there wasn't bad. But with the noise cancelled out, earphone jacks plugged into the specific holes designed for that purpose in the bottom of these...

Her mom had a similar pair. When she was a kid, obviously with the same quirk, she had gotten her a pair, too. They came in handy, for times like these.

"Are you doing alright?" Mr. Aizawa wrote out on a piece of paper and held up to her.

It took a moment to read, the words not coming very quickly to her, but...

She nodded, then very carefully, spoke. "Much better. I think I just need to go rest, for a bit."

He nodded in return, took the paper, and left, leaving the light off, and...

Turning off the hall light, too. Which probably wasn't safe. Someone could fall. But it sure was nicer than all of the fluorescents on her strained eyes.

"Thank you." Jirou managed, as she made her way out the door.

He didn't respond at all. As if this was the most normal thing in the world.

And maybe, maybe after her head calmed down a little bit... She would be up for some tea with Momo. Because right now, that sounded amazing. Once her head stopped pounding.

Chapter Text

"But like, they would have to accept you, eventually, right?" Kaminari figured as they both lay on the floor, awake, just staring up at the ceiling, blankets and pillows all dragged down around them. "Like, you're their son. If you came out they might be mad about it, but they wouldn't kick you out or anything... Would they?"

Sero swallowed, staring up at the ceiling. "Would they? I don't know, man."

He tried to laugh, play it off, but...

Recently, these late night talks had been getting deeper. Which was good; getting to know his friend was great, especially since Kaminari didn't usually talk about anything that actually mattered to him. But sometimes... Well, sometimes it wasn't so good.

Like right now.

"I mean, you're in the hero course at UA! You're one of the most fashionable guys I know, and you smell phenomenal, might I add." He listed off on his fingers, holding up his arm, then dropping it back down to his side again. "They wouldn't disown you."

"Yeah, and I'm gay. Or, well, queer. I'm into men, at the very least." Sero pointed out. "My family is psyched about me being a hero, don't get me wrong... Less psyched about my grades, and they could care less about my taste in fashion. As much as they care about me, I'm just their... Younger child. They already have an oldest in case I'm a fuck up."

"Yikes, dude. They really think like that?"

"I mean..." He sighed, running a hand through his hair, then fixing his bangs. "My sister is going into computer science. She's in college right now, working on her degree, and she makes great grades. And she's the pretty one."

"I think you're very pretty." Kaminari batted his eyelashes.

"I think you're bullshitting me."

"...it's what's inside that counts?"

"...yeah, that's... Pretty much it." Sero winced, rubbing at his face. "I mean, my sister is queer too, but we're both like..."

"Super closeted?" He guessed.

"Yeah."

"Mega closeted?"

"Yup." Sero nodded. "So closeted that we found Bakugou's repressed sexuality."

Kaminari choked. "Dude!"

"Too far?"

"Just far enough." He grinned. "But warn me next time."

"Yeah..." Sero chuckled. "I don't know. It's just like... They're the ones paying for me to go to school. And I mean, even besides that, I don't want to let them down."

"Dude, but like, they're your homophobic parents." Kaminari pointed out. "You don't owe them anything."

"But they're my parents."

"They're shitty, aren't they?"

"Well..."

That was hard to figure out. Sero breathed in, letting it out slowly, trying to figure out how to say it.

It wasn't like his parents were bad. They were good to him, really. They were kind, and nice, and supported what he wanted to do... As long as it lined up with what they wanted, which was fine. They were people too, after all, which meant they had their own desires. He never went without anything he needed, they paid for his private schooling, he got gifts around the holidays... They were like a normal family.

The only bad parts were when they argued. Whenever they got in a mood about gay marriage, or trans people, or anything else...

And he and his sister would just look at each other in silence. And she would hang her head, and swallow, and nod along with everything horrible they said about faggots and trannies and traps. About how, if those were their kids, they would rather them die then go out in public like that, whether or not they believed it... That hurt. Watching them scoff and shake their heads at pride parades. Laughing at visible trans people in public.

It made him so angry. All of it. Because, well...

"They're good parents. Just... Bigots." Sero finally said, pressing his eyes shut. "They don't realize what they're saying when they talk about those things around us. My sister and I."

"They shouldn't even talk about those things at all." He reminded him, reaching a hand over to hold his.

Kaminari's hands were soft. His were always dry; a quirk side effect from his tape.

"I know."

"So? Why do you put up with it?" Kaminari asked, looking over at him. "Can't you just tell them-"

"I can't tell them anything!" Sero snapped, interrupting him.

Because his sister was trans, and if coming out to them outed her by extension? That would be unforgivable. Because they might be able to get around him being into boys, but...

"It's just too dangerous." He added, clenching his teeth. "So, until I'm out of school, well..."

"Yeah, I guess." Kaminari shrugged. "But like, man, that's rough. How do they not know you're gay?

Sero sighed. "You know what... I don't know."

"Like, look at your room!" He gestured around, smiling, obviously trying to lighten the mood. "Gay. Ass. Room."

"Yeah... You know what? Yeah. Don't know how they don't know."

Probably because he agonized over every little thing that could make him seem queer. He tried his best to hide every little thing, just seeming like a straight guy who was into interior design. It hurt, but... It was better than everything falling apart. Better than ruining it all, especially for his sister, who needed their money to get through college...

"Me neither, man." Kaminari paused. "So, I had this idea for what the worst quirk to have would be..."

***

"So, hey, Mr. Aizawa...?" Sero paused in the doorway of the classroom, hesitating before he walked in. "I had a question to ask you..."

"Yes, Sero?" He looked up from his desk, pushing his hair back from his face. "What is it?"

"Well... I wanted to know if it's possible to have things shipped to the dorms?"

Mr. Aizawa set down his red pen, raising his eyebrow. "For what purpose would you not be sending something to your own home address, Sero? You regularly go home on the weekends, when you can. It seems like it would be no trouble."

He anticipated this, but it was still so terrifying. Cold sweat started to break out on his back, in his armpits.

"Well..." He winced, scratching the back of his neck. "You see... My family is, uh... It's complicated. I'm not having gross things sent to the dorms, I swear, I just don't want-"

"You don't want anyone going through your mail." He finished, nodding. "That's understandable; I can get you the mailing address for the dorms."

Sero sighed, letting the tension out of his shoulders; suddenly it was that easy? "Thank you. I mean, you don't need me to explain-?"

"Sero, I am trusting you to be responsible." Mr. Aizawa met his eyes. "But I trust that you aren't up to anything, this time. Is everything alright with your family?"

Frozen in place.

"Yeah." He answered reflexively, just like he always did.

Because, in truth, his sister was the only one who understood. He didn't really understand whether they were good or not, and neither did she... But that was okay. And any time someone asked him if everything was alright, he just had to say it was all fine, because it really was. Nothing was bad. It wasn't abusive in the slightest. Just... Not great.

"Alright. If anything were to be... Going on, in a way that was hurting or potentially hurting yourself or others, you would tell myself or another adult, correct?"

Sero nodded. "Yeah. Thanks for the help."

"Here's the address." He handed over a piece of paper. "And I do hope, for your sake, that everything is alright."

Me too, man, he thought to himself as he walked away, piece of paper with the address clutched in his hand. Me too.

But at least, now, he could buy his sister some nice gifts for Christmas. That, at least, made things better.

Chapter Text

He knew that he should stop. It wasn't a good habit. Or a healthy one. Or one that made a lot of sense when it came to dealing with his problems but here Tokoyami was, again, dabbing hydrogen peroxide over his thighs, relishing in the sting. It was a different kind of pain than cutting; it was a stabbing, sudden kind of feeling, making his muscles tense involuntarily, no matter how many times he did this in, hidden away in the shadows of his room.

It was disgusting, the habit.

The hydrogen peroxide cleaned the cuts, at least. That's what he promised himself he would do: clean the cuts, no matter how tired he was, or how late at night it was, and that he would never cut deep enough to require stitches, and he would apply antibiotic ointment and bandages every night he did this. It was the least he could do.

That's what Shouji did for him, after all, when he was doing something destructive. Made sure he was as safe as possible-

"Don't think about Shouji!" Tokoyami squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. "It's just not..."

It wasn't right. To think about him while doing this. While cleaning himself up from his own self inflicted wounds. When he wasn't worthy of the care and love he poured into him-

Dark Shadow's voice whispered in the back of his head, threatening to take over. He had to push him back, keep him at bay, to push him back-

All Tokoyami wanted to do was scream. To dump the entire bottle of hydrogen peroxide over his thighs even though it would make a mess, watching the chemical bubble and foam as it came into contact with his blood. He wanted to grind his teeth, to bite down on something, to punch a wall until his fists were bloody and battered-

Dark Shadow's voice. Louder. Louder, louder, louder - whispering, always whispering, constantly talking in the back of his head, babbling about what he wanted to do, trying to take control in the darkness, trying to grab the reigns of his body-

He needed to not be alone, right now. He needed to not be alone, to find Shouji and to...

But he couldn't find Shouji right now. Not while he was like this. He had never seen the mess of his legs, how much of a disaster he was, how he kept himself from falling apart by tearing himself open. It wasn't right, it wasn't okay, he wanted to stop but he didn't know how and...

If he could have cried right now he would have because he was so frustrated, so fucking frustrated and he didn't know what to do-

But what would Shouji say?

That he didn't need to worry about it. That he would be there for him, no matter what. If he ever needed anything, that he should call, because he would rather that than know that he was suffering alone.

Tokoyami considered himself, the muttering of Dark Shadow in the back of his mind, whispering about what he wanted to do. His legs, cut up in neat lines, like he had been doing for years and years. The bottle of hydrogen peroxide. The antibiotic ointment, the bandages. Everything there, ready...

Along with the razor blade that he wanted to pick back up again.

No. Squeezing his eyes shut, Tokoyami forced his head away.

Breathe slowly, focus on Shouji. Amazing, wonderful Shouji who he didn't deserve one bit.

Apply the ointment, thinking about how he would do it. The fact that he would tell him to take care of himself. That he would assure him that he was worth taking care of.

Wrap his thighs carefully in bandaging, not too tightly, so that they're protected from outside bacteria and friction, to heal. Shouji was one of the best in their classes in the first aid portions, his extra hands working well to steady and control the situation.

Tokoyami took a deep breath, tugged his pants back on, and sighed. Put away the antibiotic ointment, the razor, the hydrogen peroxide. Washed his hands in his room so they didn't smell so much like that awful metallic, bloody kind of scent the peroxide had. Ignore the way that it lingered still.

Ignore Dark Shadow's protests as he made his way out the door, into the dark hallway.

Shit. It was late, wasn't it? Almost two in the morning. So what if Shouji was...

No, he was almost certainly asleep. But he was going to go up there anyway. Climbing into the elevator, heading up to the fourth floor to where his dorm was.

Tokoyami hesitated, waiting before he knocked on Shouji's door. Maybe he should just go back downstairs, leave him alone. Maybe he should...

No.

He knocked.

"This was a bad idea." Dark Shadow insisted in his head. "He'll just be mad at you for waking him up. Go back downstairs before he-"

Shouji opened the door, mask thrown on sloppily over his face, hair a mess.

"Shouji, could I..."

"Do you want to come in?" He offered, stepping aside in the doorway. "Or would you like me to come downstairs?"

Tokoyami stared down at the floor, unable to meet his eyes. "...downstairs?"

They didn't really talk, as they made their way down there. Neither of them felt the need to. And maybe, one day, Tokoyami would admit what he had done to him. Just like maybe, one day, he would admit how he felt.

But for now... All he could do was let his friend hold him in his arms, and fall asleep.

***

The morning came with the harder task. He didn't want to do this. There was no way that he could do this; Tokoyami had felt like he was quivering on his feet all day. But...

It was only fair. After all, his friends had put so much into him. Midoriya believed in him, always. Shouji was always making sure that he was alright, picking him up when he fell down. Aoyama was awkward, but even they had expressed that, if he was afraid of the dark, they could lend him something that would sparkle bright enough to light things up. From sincere to silly, it just wasn't fair to treat his friends this way.

And so, he had to do this. Class was over, Mr. Aizawa was just checking something off of a clipboard as they all headed to the locker rooms to change out of their hero costumes and...

This was his chance. He may as well not wait here any longer than necessary; he was going to lose his nerve that he didn't have in the first place.

Tokoyami took a deep breath. "Sir? May I speak to you for a moment?"

Mr. Aizawa sighed, tucking his clipboard under his arm. "Yes, what is it, Tokoyami?"

"I... Well." He swallowed. "Understand my hesitance to admit to whom I am referring, but... There's a student in our class who's been hurting themselves."

"Is this confirmed? You aren't just spreading rumors to me that will end up causing more trouble than they're worth?"

"Unfortunately, yes, I am certain." Tokoyami stared at the floor. "And I was... Wondering what you would do. In this... Situation."

"Well, the first thing I would do is make sure it's not an accidental injury." Mr. Aizawa started to explain, in a softer, more gentle tone, shoulders relaxed. "That happens often, especially with training and quirks."

"It was, indeed, self inflicted in nature."

"Once I'm sure of that, then, I would recommend first that the person see Recovery Girl, or at least that they let a teacher treat their wounds, if they refuse to be seen by her. Keeping things clean and uninfected is often the least of someone's concerns, let alone bandaging, or stitches if they're needed."

He stopped to take a breath, a frown pulling at his lips.

"After that, I, as a teacher, would require them to see Hound Dog at least once, then again after a week. Obviously, as a student, you can only recommend that they talk to him, and tell a teacher, like you have. Make sure that they understand that we won't tell their family, or anyone else the information that they share wth us, or even the fact they have harmed themselves; unless, of course, it becomes apparent they plan to seriously harm themselves or others."

Tokoyami shifted back and forth on his feet. "It's all... Confidential?"

Mr. Aizawa nodded. "Correct."

"...I think you already know that it's myself."

"I... May have figured that." He admitted, setting down his clipboard. "Are you in need of medical assistance?"

He didn't move to make a big deal of it. Didn't cry. Or yell. Just kept talking in that calm, matter of fact voice. Tokoyami breathed a sigh of relief. Half of him had expected to be expelled.

"I'll go and see Recovery Girl after we're done here." Tokoyami promised, staring down at his feet. "And Hound Dog sometime soon. It's the least I can do to take care of myself after all my friends do to take care of me."

"Don't guilt yourself too much, like that. You're doing well, Tokoyami."

"I'm not..." He trailed off, then nodded. "I'll try my best, sir."

After all, that was the least he could do. To try his best, to keep his word, and to keep moving forward. Improving himself.

Because you couldn't be worthy of another person, or deserve them, but... Maybe, someday, he would feel ready to admit all of this to Shouji. What he had done. How he felt. And everything in between.

He just had to get there.

Chapter Text

The unit in class on how to deal with victims of child abuse as heroes, and as heroes in training wasn't going to be an easy one to stomach. Todoroki should have known that walking in on Monday morning... That is, if he ever did the reading ahead of time. Like he was supposed to.

Sure, it was technically assigned reading, but you didn't have to do it before class to get good grades. Mr. Aizawa covered all of the material in the textbook in class, so he was fine. It really was like he said: it should be impossible to fail if you just paid attention in class.

...still, that made for a rough surprise when he got to class after the weekend, only to open his book and see what the reading was supposed to have been on.

Ice started to crystallize over his right side, slowly freezing over his skin. As soon as he noticed, he melted it, quickly flashing into steam.

No one else seemed to have seen.

It would be fine. He was grown up enough to talk about topics like this objectively. To realize that his upbringing did, in fact, affect him, and then to move on without dwelling too much on it. That was fine. It was fine. None of his classmates should notice anything off about him, as long as they didn't see his little temperature slip up, there.

He just... Wished he had given himself a warning, earlier. Maybe that would convince him to read the chapter.

...but probably not.

***

Mr. Aizawa's lecture was short, concise, and exactly what it needed to be for most of the people in this class. In their minds, most of them didn't think they would encounter anyone in these conditions anytime soon. So it made sense that how he talked about it would be fairly surface level.

Todoroki breathed a sigh of relief. Surface level was just fine with him. If it took another year until they understood the truth, would it hold them back from learning better? Maybe, but probably not. The odds of this coming in handy during their first year was-

"Now, this quiz is for discussion purposes only, meaning that you will not be graded, but everyone should know based on your discussion what answers you put. Keep that in mind as you choose your answers, but don't waste time." Mr. Aizawa took a stack of papers, counting off a number and handing some to each row. "Take one and pass them back."

Mandatory discussion. Todoroki set down his pencil, halting his doodle to grab the last quiz and scan over the questions. It was simple, at least: a list of situations. They were just supposed to be recognizing which ones were and weren't abusive, as well as identifying which behaviors were associated with abuse.

He finished reading it over, wrote in his answers, and went back to doodling his classmates in his notebook. Speaking of which...

Gone was Bakugou's almost peaceful, just sort of pissed off look. He was staring at the paper so intently it looked like it would explode, brows drawn into a tight line, corners of his mouth curved downwards.

Oh.

Maybe this wouldn't be so simple after all.

Because if there was one thing Todoroki could rely on, it was how stubborn of an ass Bakugou was. He would change and warp everything until it was convoluted and complicated and hard for him to understand, hard to work through. Twisted. Warped. A messed up version of a normal thing.

To most people, logic worked simply, i.e.: If my mom hits me, then I'm being abused; my mom hit me, I was abused. But to Bakugou? To Bakugou, it couldn't work like that. If my mom hits me, people say I'm being abused; I'm still not being abused because that's not possible, so therefore, your mom hitting you can't be abuse.

It was so... Backwards. It was frustrating.

But he understood why he did it.

And sure enough, it was predictable as ever. The class discussed the scenarios for a few minutes before-

"What! That's some bullshit!" Bakugou scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Number two on the sheet wasn't fucking abuse. Didn't we read the same shitty story?"

Several people in the class raised eyebrows. Midoriya groaned; he was used to this.

Just... Used to this. Todoroki loved Midoriya dearly, and normally he was so observant, but how could he be so blind? Was he really so used to how Bakugou acted? Was it just normal?

Was everyone just that used to how he himself acted, too?

Iida took a chance and cleared his throat. "That clearly was not a normal family dynamic depicted, Bakugou-"

"Sure it was!" He practically spat. "The kid had it coming to him! He was being a brat, so he got hit. That's kinda how that fucking works."

"But he's just a kid, Bakugou." Asui pointed out. "So it's not fair to..."

They kept talking, but he tuned them out. Bakugou's words just kept ringing in his head, over and over again...

"The kid had it coming to him!"

He deserved it.

"He was being a brat, so he got hit."

If he had been working harder, he wouldn't have-

"What? None of you got hit as kids?" Bakugou asked, glancing around the room.

He didn't miss the panic in his eyes. They met, for a moment. He always had a kind of frantic feeling in that blood red, like a caged animal. Like he could remember Touya's getting, sometimes, back before he ran. A desperate scrambling to get away.

It always felt more directed towards their classmates than whatever was going on at home. After all, he would never admit that he needed help.

Todoroki stayed silent. He wasn't about to say a word.

He didn't need help. And it wasn't like he could offer any, even if he did.

"Explains a lot about why you're so fucking annoying." Bakugou laughed, but there was no joy, just a cover up. "Would've taught you better than to be such damn idiots all the time-"

It was true. He didn't goof off like the other members off the class. He didn't let himself relax like them, have fun like them, and he knew that it was because those things were full of guilt to him. He wasn't supposed to be around others. He was supposed to isolate himself.

And it did make him strong... For a time.

But it also made him weak. And lonely. And broken and sad and confused and-

"That's enough of that, Bakugou, we'll talk about this another time. The bell is about to ring." Mr. Aizawa sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Todoroki, I need to talk to you about an assignment you turned in last week. Iida, you're in charge of the room. Don't break anything while I'm gone."

What could he need to talk to him about? They had a few assignments due last week, so maybe it was... He had no idea. Slowly, he stood up out of his chair, walking out of the classroom.

"Yes, sir? What is it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Officially? Your paper on how some heroes mental health correlates to their ranking, and the conclusions we can draw from that." Mr. Aizawa explained. "Unofficially... How are you doing?"

Todoroki blinked, cocking his head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I couldn't help but notice you freezing over during today's discussion, as well as before the lecture even started."

"I'm fine. And my father is the number one hero now; we both know that, in order to keep the face of heroes as positive as possible in the public light, he is a necessary evil to keep around. You can't do anything about him."

"I understand that." Mr. Aizawa scowled. "But that doesn't change my responsibility to you as my student. Just because I can't do anything about him, doesn't mean I can't do anything."

"...fair. I'm doing... Alright." He shrugged, glancing away down the hall. "Worried about Bakugou, to be honest. Don't take what he says lightly just because he's annoying."

Maybe he could say something. Who knows. Maybe it would do nothing. After all, Mr. Aizawa had met his parents before. He had no idea what kind of impression they had on him.

But, from the sounds of it...

"No, I'm serious." Todoroki insisted. "You take me seriously because I'm quiet, and I'm respectful, but not all of my siblings are like that, you know, and we've all been through similar things."

He wouldn't lie and say it was the same, but they had been through hell, too. And Touya had yelled. Natsuo was angry and antisocial. They weren't him, but...

"So don't discount Bakugou because you look at him and see a little boy who deserved it." He added on, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Because from what I heard in class today? That's what he sees when he thinks about himself."

Dead silence. The fluorescent lights hummed. The clocks ticked.

Mr. Aizawa nodded, brows knit tightly together, shifting his weight to the other side. Thinking. "I'll... I'll talk to him. And I'll think about this."

Todoroki bowed. "Thank you, Mr. Aizawa."

"I'm the one who should be thanking you. It's my duty to make sure you students are safe. While I'm not one hundred percent certain his family life is unhealthy... I also disregarded his situation altogether too quickly." He sighed, mouth curving into a frown. "Which is altogether unacceptable on my part."

"Well, in which case, thank you. For listening."

Mr. Aizawa hummed. "And if you do need someone to talk to, I don't need to remind you that Hound Dog is available..."

He nodded.

"...but, I'm also here for you. I know the rest of the staff would be too, but...?"

Todoroki found a faint smile on his lips. "Thank you."

"Any time at all. Understand? Good. Now, go back to class until the bell rings. I don't trust them in there one bit."

Chapter Text

Being invisible sometimes was... Rough. Sure, Hagakure had never known anything but being invisible, and being raised by two wonderful, invisible parents whom she loved dearly made it easier, but that didn't mean that it was all sunshine and rainbows. There was so much that she missed out on.

Like makeup, which just looked creepy floating on her face. Not cute at all.

Or doing her hair. What was the point if literally no one could see it, anyway? Mostly, she kept her hair short and pulled back so it wasn't in her face... But still cute.

All anyone could see was the fit of her clothes, and, well...

That's how she got herself into this mess in the first place.

Hagakure had never been a big person. She was pretty much always the shortest girl in her class, the shortest kid if they didn't have another odd exception... Like they did at the beginning of the year. Finding her size in clothing stores was only really a problem in the length department, once in a while, since everything was a little big.

But still, she couldn't shake the feeling that her school uniform, her gym uniform, had started to fit too... Tight. Normally that was how she liked her clothing to fit! In order to be visible it was easiest that everything she wore fit her nice and snug. Recently, though...

She just felt fat.

Did everyone seriously only see her looking like this? Maybe some of her clothes she brought from home were more flattering, but she rarely got to wear her clothes from home, except in the common rooms, or on the weekends. And most of the clothes that she wore around were just even tighter, showing off how her stomach turned to rolls when she leaned over...

It was horrible! Why hadn't she looked at herself before she let everyone see her looking so gross? Before she let Ojiro see her looking so gross... He was her boyfriend, and she only wanted to look good around him. Her stomach roiled, a lump in her throat as she stared at herself in the mirror.

It was just too many things. Mouth squirming down into a frown, she pinched at her stomach. At her thighs. True, unless she was in the gym uniform her classmates rarely saw her thighs, since she didn't like pants that was something she could easily avoid, but they saw them sometimes. How they squished down until they were ginormous, making her feel like she was going to vomit...

Even her calves seemed too big, squished into her knee high socks. Maybe she'd just been taking advantage of Lunch Rush's delicious cooking too much - it tended to get easy for her to get carried away with things, so that wouldn't be hard to believe. She just needed to scale back, that was all. Scale back, and maybe do a few extra work outs once in a while. After all, she wasn't that strong...

Yeah that was a good idea. Get in better shape, and look a little better! Feeling better, now that she had a plan, Hagakure set out for the gym.

***

Ojiro said that she was looking nice, a couple weeks later. Her heart soared.

***

"Hey, Hagakure, you feeling okay?" Ojiro asked as they walked to their lunch table. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I like rice too... But that's not a lot of food to be all you're eating for lunch."

She shrugged, shaking her head. "Nah, I'm feeling great! Just not that hungry."

"I mean, that's all you are yesterday, too..." He pointed out, voice trailing off.

"Are you... keeping track of what I eat?"

"No!" Ojiro turned red. "I mean, I'm just- I guess, I'm just worried about you. Have you been feeling okay, lately?"

Hagakure waved that off. "I've been feeling great! You care so much, Ojiro. It's so sweet, sugar plum."

In truth, she had been feeling terrible. The hollow pit in her stomach was an awful replacement for the nauseous one that she had before whenever she looked at herself, even though...

She had to admit, she looked pretty great... Or she would soon. Getting better as time went on, as she worked out more and ate less. She had actually gotten a skirt size down recently, just for the smaller waistband to make her look thinner. It felt a little dumb, but she looked so much nicer, and...

He blushed even redder. "Well... Alright. Let's go sit over there. Or do you want to sit with your friends?"

"Nah, Shouji's good company anyway. Let's go, cutie pie!"

***

Almost passing out in training was fine. It was alright; she was just dizzy. Hagakure could deal with being hungry all of the time, with being dizzy, with the awful feeling gnawing at his stomach...

Besides, training was over and she was okay. Grabbing her gloves and shoes again, and headings to the locker room to shower.

Part of her was glad that the other girls, with their pretty bodies and wonderful confidence, couldn't see her own body as she showered off.

***

"Man, Hagakure, your hand is really cold." Ojiro pointed out, immediately turning to look at her.

Well, to look at the collar of her turtleneck. It was the weekend, so she could wear clothes from home: a thick blue turtleneck that she could tuck into one of her skirts now that she was thinner, a white and light blue plaid skirt that came all the way down to her knees, to cover up her thighs. Stockings. Tall black socks. Short black ankle boots.

She really was bundled up, but...

"Yeah, I've just been cold lately." Hagakure shrugged. "I mean, it is getting to be autumn, now...?"

"I suppose you're right. Here, do you need my jacket?"

"Well..." She blushed. "If you insist."

And maybe being cold wasn't such a bad thing after all, if it meant having Ojiro's jacket over her shoulders, him holding her chilly hands. After all, he smelled really nice... And this was kind of the best she had ever felt.

***

Except when it was time for hero training, and she had to be naked. When it was the worst she had ever felt.

Hagakure had been keeping this up, knowing that if she went back to just stuffing her face like a pig she would just start gaining weight again, and she would have to look like that, and Ojiro wouldn't compliment her as much, and-

It was so cold. Moving around quickly made her dizzy, standing up suddenly making all the blood drain from her head, causing her to collapse. It was bad, but she was fine because no one could see her.

No one could see her at all.

Hagakure pulled herself off the ground, wiping at her face but finding no tears there. She was too dehydrated to cry, really. Too tired. Her body felt like it was shutting down-

It was just about getting through the training exercise. Just getting through.

Because soon enough the class hour was over. And she was invisible to everyone again, just shivering her way over to the locker rooms, when-

"Hagakure. I need to speak with you." Mr. Aizawa called from across the training floor, voice echoing.

What did he need to talk to her about? Had he noticed how much she had been sucking?

Her heart pounding, first she ran up to Ojiro. "See you after this, in the common room?"

She needed a little bit of stability, right now. Just a little strength.

Ojiro nodded, but he couldn't quite meet her eyes. "See you, Hagakure. I'll make some tea for us?"

"Sounds great..."

And now, for Mr. Aizawa. For seeing what it was, maybe facing being expelled...

She swallowed, clenching her hands, gathering her courage like Ojiro would, and walking forward with confidence. Calmly and solidly.

"Yes, Mr. Aizawa?" Hagakure asked, sucking in a deep breath. "What did you need to see me about?"

"I'm going to make this as blunt as possible." Mr. Aizawa started to explain. "You are not in trouble. I have noticed you doing poorly in training, recently, and wondered what could be causing you to have such issues. Several students have also expressed concerns about your eating habits recently, saying that you've been neglecting food."

Wow. That... Was as blunt as possible.

"That's not true! I've been eating." She denied, putting her hands on her hips. "Maybe not much, but I'm eating."

"Not enough to sustain you. Your performance is indicative of someone who isn't retrieving the proper nutrients."

Hagakure frowned. "Well..."

"I'm not asking you to admit anything." Mr. Aizawa stated simply. "But I am telling you that your performance at the moment is unsatisfactory. Compared to what you've been able to do in the past? It's painful to watch you struggling like this. I know that you are more capable."

She hung her head in shame.

"Your classmates are worried about you." He paused. "Ojiro has spoken to me specifically several times."

Immediately, Hagakure's head snapped up, eyes meeting his. Ojiro had taken to him? He was worried? She thought for sure that he would be... She looked good. He complimented her, and since she was cold she held his and and he gave her his coat and they cuddled on the couch when they watched movies, and...

"Really?" Her voice broke. "He's...worried?"

"Now, I can't say that I know how to help you. But I can tell you that you're not at your best." Mr. Aizawa sighed. "I'm requiring you to meet with Hound Dog after school, tomorrow. For your sake. If it's nothing, it's nothing, but-"

"I'll be there." Hagakure nodded. "For Ojiro. I didn't realize he was so worried..."

He glanced away, at the doors to the locker rooms. "You'd be surprised at how many of your friends have noticed something off about you, Hagakure. People care more than you know."

It wasn't hurting anyone, she wanted to say. She was the only one who was hungry and cold and so tired... But...

They were worried. And they cared about her. So she would go to that meeting, at the very least.

"Thank you, Hagakure." Mr. Aizawa said, just the hint of a smile pulling at his lips. "You may go now, if you wish."

She nodded. "Yeah. I'll... Talk to my friends too. Bye, Mr. Aizawa!"

***

And when she got to the common room, to where Ojiro was waiting for her, the tea was hot and ready, soothing for her chilly hands. And he wrapped his coat around her, and he smelled nice, and...

She didn't want to make him worry. Things wouldn't be easy, but... She'd work on it. 'Cause that's what a good girlfriend, and a good hero, would do.

Chapter Text

Bakugou was having an awful week. It started out with getting his grade back from that shitty fucking project he had where he was paired with Deku. Of course it had to be a bad grade; Deku would never do anything but make sure his grade dropped, because he hated him, and that was just how they worked.

Even if he knew that he didn't, realistically. The guy didn't even hate him. They just didn't work well together. Or... Bakugou didn't work well with him. Still. Like in their battle against All Might, he just wouldn't work with him.

Maybe it was built up anger. Hatred. Jealousy. Everyone said he bullied "The Midoriya kid" for no reason, but he never hit someone without a reason.

But it was just easier for him to say sabotage than failure.

Than it was to say that he failed.

So they got a bad grade on the project. And he could expect his mom to hear about it somewhere-

He had no clue how she did it. Maybe there was a place online where their grades were posted by the school? He had no fucking idea.

But if it wasn't damn close to perfect? She'd be upset by it. By the fact he wasn't excelling well enough for her liking. And he knew that he was expected home every weekend, so he would see her. It was fine, he was fine with that. They didn't live far.

But his dad would remind him that they were paying for him to go to school, and that he needed to try harder if he wanted to keep going there. Even though he was the third best in the class, that wasn't good enough. Even though he was trying his best at everything-

It was all just the same shit.

Be better, Katsuki, from his mother. Work harder, do better, be tougher, with slaps to the face and smacks in the head and glasses and plates thrown at him from across the room. Screaming matches, yelling, fighting, arguing until he swore the neighbors would call the cops on them-

But they never did, and they never had, and he bet they never would. Everyone was used to them by this point, thankfully.

But it was always stop being such a mean person, from his dad. No one will listen to you if you keep being so rude, Katsuki. Don't cry when your mother speaks to you; are you a girl? I thought you said you aren't a girl. Only girls cry, Katsuki. Have you changed your mind? Use your words, please. I'm trying to help you to get better, don't you want that? Stop being so ungrateful any time we offer you advice-

And it was all bakhanded, wrong, wrong, wrong words spoken in a nice, gentle tone that he couldn't stand.

All because he got a bad grade. And Bakugou's predictions were right, after all: all of that happened on Friday night when he got back. And in the morning they were a happy family again. He made breakfast. Dad didn't eat the spicy things. Mom hit him for cooking spicy food at breakfast time, and another argument started.

But it was fine. He did deserve it, after all; shouldnt have been selfish with the food. He shouldn't have gotten a shitty grade. He really ought to be doing better, no matter who he's paired with. Shouldn't have yelled like an asshole, shouldn't have started to cry like a little girl, shouldn't have been fucking born like this-

Bakugou swallowed.

That was the one they kept going for, wasn't it? Even though he couldn't change a damn thing about it. He wanted to, but all of that cost money, and it hurt because...

Because...

Because Deku wasn't born like this. Deku was born with a real boy's body, so he didn't have to prove any of this shit. He didn't have to walk into every room and immediately assert that he was the best, he didn't have to fight to be taken seriously-

And when he cried, it was the most painful. Because he was a crybaby, yeah. A wimp. But never a girl.

He didn't cost money to be a boy, for binders, for new clothes, for when he asked to get his name changed before they all got their provisional hero licenses so they wouldn't print the wrong one. He just... Was. Even as weak, and as shrimpy, and as pathetic as he was.

But that was enough about Deku, he didn't want to think about him. It was painful enough. He wanted to avoid that shitty little motherfucker like the plague.

Now, he was back at school. It was Monday morning, standing outside of his homeroom class, getting ready to go in.

Only Iida should be in there right now. The nerd. Aizawa would be sleeping. All fine. Normal. Everything was fine.

Because that was the other thing last week: last Monday, that "child abuse discussion" that turned out to be complete bullshit. Because he just knew that wasn't how it fucking worked.

Child abuse is like what IcyHot went through. Where a parent hurts a kid for no damn reason, or for something that they didn't even fucking do. Or where they try to force the kid to turn into what they want them to be, and hurt them whenever they don't follow along with it.

But him?

There was never a time that his mom hurt him for no reason. And his dad was always talking to him for the best, even if it hurt. So none of it was abuse; saying it was would be stupid. They both loved him, understood how he worked, and... That was that. Their family just worked differently from others.

No matter what anyone said.

No matter what weird looks he got from IcyHot.

It wasn't like he didn't notice them. It was obvious, in class, in the halls, in hero training, that he was paying attention to him. Hell, even in the common room the Half'n'Half bastard would keep an eye on him. It pissed him off.

But it pissed him off more after he talked to Aizawa.

It was bullshit. The excuse about needing to talk to him about a different project - that was a cover up for what their teacher really needed IcyHot for. And after that... Aizawa had been watching him too. He didn't know what he said, but it couldn't have been good, that was for sure.

No way to know, though. All he could do was keep going.

Huffing a breath, Bakugou fixed his posture and slouched in through the door, scowling at Aizawa on the floor, then at Iida. Sure enough, they were the only ones there. Normal.

Of course IcyHot wasn't long after. And he gave him that strange look, like he was a feral cat that he wanted to pick up because it was hurt, but he was afraid of getting bitten.

Damn right... The biting part, not the hurt part. Bakugou snarled at him as he walked by, sliding into his seat.

He looked... Sad. But he could live with that. Serves the bitch right for telling the teacher some dumb shit and getting him worried about him over nothing.

The rest of the class filed in one by one, and soon everything settled into the normal class schedule. Maybe that shit week was behind him.

***

Bakugou just had to jinx it, didn't he?

As soon as he was done showering after hero training, changed into normal clothes, hero costume all put away, he had to think to himself that nothing fucking weird happened today. In fact, it was a little boring. Strangely so.

And that's when Aizawa had to show up.

Completely jinxed.

"Bakugou, I need to talk to you for a moment."

Groan.

"How long'll it take?" He asked over his shoulder, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Guessing you're headed back to the dorms, too."

"Yes, but..." Aizawa paused, pursing his lips. "I'm going to assume you don't want anyone overhearing our conversation."

So it was going to be about that. Fuck.

"Is this about the abuse thing last week?" Bakugou rolled his eyes. "'Cause I can fucking tell you, it's not abuse-"

"Bakugou, I saw your mother hit you and physically restrain you." He pointed out. "At the moment, I wrote that off, but..."

"But you talked to IcyHot."

"Yes. I did speak to Todoroki." Aizawa admitted. "I'm not valuing his words over yours. But what he said put a separate perspective on things."

That's what Bakugou liked about Aizawa. He didn't try to convince you of shit. He told you the facts, and if you were pissed, you were pissed. No mincing words, no bullshit. It was good. Even if he was talking complete and utter crap.

"What perspective?" Bakugou asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'm dying to know, here."

"That we, as a society, only value quiet, convenient victims of abuse. Certainly none who are like you."

"Hey!" He scoffed. "The hell's that supposed to mean!? I'm not a fucking victim-"

"It means that your brash, bully personality could easily draw from a lack of control in your life." Aizawa dropped bluntly. "Of course, if nothing is going on, that's just a coincidence. Along with your intense standards for yourself and everyone else, and distrust for anyone and everyone around you."

Dead silence filled the air in the facility. His ears were ringing, his heart was pounding.

"Bakugou, it took me a week to talk to you because I was fitting this together... And trying to find a way to talk to you that you would listen to." He added on. "If you don't believe me, that is understandable, but I have a responsibility to report on what I see as a teacher, and to investigate. Even if it's a false alarm, I felt that it wasn't fair not to give you a fair warning before doing those things."

"You just listed convenient symptoms." Bakugou pointed out, rolling his eyes. "That doesn't mean shit."

"Alright, then let me ask you this." Aizawa cleared his throat. "Do either of your parents hurt you?"

"Well..." He swallowed. "That's a trap. You're trying to get it to sound bad!"

He could feel his breath coming fast now, ears ringing, heart pounding.

"Why would I do that?" Calm as ever.

"Because..." Bakugou faltered. "To make me seem weak. The whole fucking school's always doing it! Chaining me to a podium! Advertising me as crazy, why don't you? And I wasn't going to hurt IcyHot at the end of that match. But Midnight still treated me like I was a fucking lunatic and gassed me-"

His hands clenched into fists, needing to hit something, to pull at his hair, to break, to squeeze around his middle until his ribs collapsed. Ears ringing, heart pounding, eyes watering.

"And now I'm crying like a stupid fucking girl and-"

"Bakugou," Aizawa tried in a calming voice, laying a hand on his shoulder. "I don't think you're crazy."

"Yeah, like I'm gonna fucking believe you!" Bakugou snarled, wiping at his eyes. "And I-"

"Bakugou." He sighed, putting his other hand on his other shoulder, looking him in the eyes. "I am not trying to prove that you are weak. I know that you're strong, and that you can be stronger... Which is why I want to make sure you're in a place you can grow."

"Not like I can't fucking handle it."

"You shouldn't have to." Aizawa insisted, looking him in the eyes. "You shouldn't have to deal with that. You don't deserve it."

And Bakugou didn't believe it, this time. Not when the tears ran down his face and he furiously scrubbed them off, not while he hollowly walked back to his dorm, and not while he considered what this could mean for his future.

It was all just too confusing, right now. But maybe it would be clearer, eventually, and those words would hit home. Eventually.

Chapter Text

As long as Deku could remember, his dad was away on a business trip. But that was fine; after all, he worked very hard for their family, and never got to see them as a reward. That had to be really hard on him, to never be able to see his family, and to live so far away...

Once in a while, his mom would tell him that he had moved. She kept track of the address, thankfully. It was true that he was good at remembering facts, and things like that, but addresses? Phone numbers? All of those kinds of things slipped out of his head the moment someone told them to him, in one ear and out the other. But she kept track of the address, so...

He sent cards.

Father's Day had been in June, when he was more than a little preoccupied with the summer camp, and everything after that, so he hoped that he wasn't mad that it was late... After all, it was pretty ungrateful of his only child to forget to send him a card on Father's Day. But, as long as he apologized thoroughly enough in his letter, it would be fine, right?

Hopefully.

Because Deku couldn't draw the line at a card. No, he had to go all out, including pictures of him and his mom, his friends, his hero costume... All of the things he had been doing at school, some of the newspaper clippings from the incidences he'd been involved in - all of that stuff. Even though his dad was so far away... He wanted him to be able to flip through the things in the card and feel like a part of the family. Like he was just a normal kid, telling his dad about his day.

That was... A little pathetic.

But Deku knew that. He knew that he had been calling teachers 'dad' on accident since he was a kid, and that it never really stopped, even though the word wasn't part of his vocabulary. He knew that he didn't even really know what his dad looked like.

Well...

Deku stared at a mirror, squinting at himself. His dad probably had at least a little bit of a squared jawline, because his mom's face was very, very round. A slightly flatter, broader nose, maybe? At least, more than his mom's. Freckles across his cheeks - maybe even more than his own! Wouldn't that be exciting? Or would he have grown out of them?

Taking a step back, he realized what he was doing, and what he had. Maybe a little bit narrower eyes than his mom's, and a wider nose, and a squarer jaw, and freckles. But other than that? He had no clue what this mysterious man looked like. He could have any color of hair, any color of eyes-

If he saw this guy on the street, he wouldn't recognize him.

Deku shook his head. It didn't matter. He was his dad, and he was working hard for him. It was rude to ask questions, or assume things. Maybe he just... Didn't like pictures. Or writing letters! It could be that simple.

Because at first, he would send cards. Short ones. But... They tapered off around the time he was ten. That was alright, though. He understood that he was a busy man.

He just kept sending his own cards, with his pictures and newspaper clippings, with his letters and stickers and sketches, giving them to his mom to send, maybe hoping that eventually... He might respond again.

***

That weekend, Deku went home to see his mom, and to give her the letter to send. It was pretty normal for him, at this point. His mom got anxious when he was gone too long, and he had the letter to send anyway, so...

He just wasn't expecting... This.

He had been about to go out on a run, and his mom had a few errands to do... So he remembered to give the letter to her before she left so that she could mail it, then he headed out. But, he forgot his headphones, and he didn't want to run without them, so...

So he turned around. Ran back. And when he came back to the apartment there was... A box on the table...?

Deku knew that he shouldn't snoop, but his mom didn't seem to be around, and... Who was he kidding, he was going to look. And if it was something he shouldn't have known, then he would just pretend that he didn't see it. Yeah.

So, curiosity getting the better of him, he pulled back the flaps and peered inside.

"What's my letter doing in this box...?" Deku muttered to himself, reaching down to pick it up. "Maybe she just set it down while doing something else. That would make... But what's-?"

Underneath that letter was another one. His handwriting addressing it to his dad, and... No other writing on it? Was that...?

He reached down, grabbing that one and carefully pulling it open without tearing the envelope. It wasn't sealed well, anyway. Inside, sure enough, was what he expected.

Pictures of him in middle school. Him and his mom. Sketches of All Might that he did, colored carefully with markers and pens. A handwritten letter to his dad, telling him all about the year, never sent.

"But why is it here?" He wondered aloud, setting it down and grabbing the next one.

And the next, and the next. All of the letters he had written his dad, since he was six years old, filled with crayon doodles of All Might and his best friend Kacchan.

The last one had been returned to sender. But why? What was going-

"Izuku? What are you... Oh." His mom sighed, walking over to join him by the table. "Honey, I can explain, I just-"

Time ticked by in what felt like forever and no time at all.

"Why didn't you send them?" Deku asked, feeling his eyes already filling up with tears. "Why did he return it? Mom, what's going on?"

"Honey, your dad, he..." She swallowed, eyes looking anywhere but at him. "He hasn't actually been, you know, supporting us, since you were a kid, sweetie. He sent back your letter, stopped sending checks, and..."

If he thought about it, he could remember a time when his mom talked about his dad having some changes with work, so she would have to work more, picking up a few extra hours. Was that really him leaving? Him not actually being in the picture at all?

"What about the cards he send back?"

"I..." His mom bit her lip, tears flooding her eyes. "I'm sorry, Izuku! I know it wasn't right, but... You were so upset about being quirkless right around that same time, and..."

She wrote them. She wrote them for him.

Deku nodded, wiping his eyes. "No, I... I understand. That would've been really hard for me to handle when I was just a little kid. But why didn't you tell me sooner? This is kind of a shock to figure out now."

"I couldn't find a way to tell you." She hung her head. "I'm sorry that you had to find out this way. I should have been the one to tell you, and I wasn't there, and..."

"Hey, it's okay, mom." He forced a smile. "Just... Weird to figure it all out after this long. I'm going to go out on a run still... Clear my head."

"That sounds... Like a good idea. And I still have my errands to run..."

"Then let's go." Deku nodded. "Don't worry about it, too much. It's fine. I'm not sweating it at all, mom."

She smiled, pulling him into a tight hug, holding him close.

***

It was not fine. It was not fine at all, and Deku was thinking about it near constantly for weeks. His dad left them. His dad left them?

Why? Why did he leave them?

He had never even met him, sure, but Deku had still gotten cards from him. Some of those cards were, actually, from him, when he was a little kid. The rest of them were from his mom.

His dad abandoned him when he was a lonely, quirkless little kid. Abandoned their family. And he didn't learn about it for another ten years? How did that work?

Why?

No idea. He had no idea, but he was going to cry himself to sleep thinking about it, because that was all he could really do right now.

***

It was in class the next week that everything broke down. Deku hadn't been sleeping well lately, with everything going on. So he was tired, he slept through his alarm so he was running late to homeroom, and he was a mess. Heart pounding, nearly scattering papers everywhere, he slid into his chair right before the bell rang.

Kacchan rolled his eyes, scowling at him. Like he always did. Very different from the crayon drawing from so long ago, and yet so very similar.

Maybe if he had a quirk then his dad wouldn't have left...?

Mr. Aizawa sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Midoriya. Be on time in the future, understand?"

He nearly squeaked. "Yes, dad."

Immediately, everyone snickered. Kacchan snorted. Kaminari full on laughed, Mina covering her mouth like she would be doing the same...

But Deku could feel the tears rising in his eyes, threatening to spill over.

Because that was what he did, wasn't it? He just kept finding adults to fill the dad-shaped hole in his life, trying to fill it up in one way or another because he didn't know what a dad was like. Other teachers. All Might. Mr. Aizawa.

And once he started crying he couldn't stop, tears just running down his face, and he couldn't pull himself together-

Shinsou handed him a tissue, probably from Momo. Then another one. Then an entire box.

"Thanks," He croaked out, wiping at his face as much as possible while also trying to pay attention to the front of class.

Everyone was just looking at him.

Mr. Aizawa cleared his throat. "Anyway, class. Today we'll be talking about how to deal with..."

And he never could have been more grateful for Mr. Aizawa's no-nonsense attitude, because without it? It would be chaos right now. And he just needed to disappear.

***

"Hey, uh, thanks for that." Deku waited until everyone else had left class, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. "Things were getting a little crazy for a second there."

Mr. Aizawa blinked. "It's my job."

"Oh, right." He laughed awkwardly, shifting his weight to the other leg. "I, uh... Yeah. Uh huh. I should probably..."

"Midoriya, may I ask... are you alright?"

Deku froze. "I... What do you mean?"

"I understand embarrassment," He said, jotting something down on a sheet of homework in red pen. "But sobbing? That's an odd reaction to... What happened. It wasn't a big deal. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just... Well... I mean, My dad kind of just left my family."

"Oh." Mr. Aizawa blinked, setting down his pen. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine, really-" Deku smiled awkwardly, trying to lighten things back up, but coming across a little more hysterical. "It was a long time ago, but I just now found out about it, so... It's confusing! But it's fine. I'm just a little bit-"

"Calm down." He interrupted. "Midoriya, I'm sending you to Hound Dog's office. That will be more of a benefit to you than your English class. I will excuse you with Present Mic."

"But- never mind. Thank you, Mr. Aizawa."

Mr. Aizawa nodded. "Would you like me to escort you?"

"...well, you have other..."

He stood up. "My students take priority. And I'll take walking you to Hound Dog's office over grading a paper of Kaminari's any day."

Deku winced. "...alright."

And so they walked there, him still holding the tissue box from Momo, Aizawa taking short glances down to make sure he was okay once in a while... And it was okay. He felt like he could breathe again.

"Mr. Aizawa? Thank you again."

And he just nodded, before heading back to his classroom.

It was just his job, after all. Normal. And it felt nice to be a little bit normal.

Chapter Text

The thing about moving into new foster homes was that everything was a new set of rules. For the first few weeks in a new place Shinsou never quite knew if what he was doing was right, if it was wrong, if it was only just right enough that no one was saying anything, if it was entirely wrong but they were being polite... And it frustrated him to death. At this point, he was just tired of this song and dance, of being a strange mixture of guest and, to some, family.

To some degree, he wished that people would actually just have physical lists of do's and don't's printed out somewhere, or that they would give them to him the first night he stayed there to get rid of any confusion. To let him know exactly what he was dealing with...

And sometimes, how long he'd be staying.

Most of the time, it was small things. Not the big issues that became apparent after a while, that became phone calls about how he just 'wasn't a good fit for them.'

Still, though. It would be nice to know.

Because who knew if they were a family that locked the door when using the bathroom, or a family that found that rude?

If you were wearing socks, and not slippers, was that normal or slobbish here? Let alone if you happened to be barefoot?

How early was too early to be awake in the morning? How late was too late at night?

Did all of them squeeze the toothpaste from the bottom, or did some of them do it from the middle? Which direction was the toilet paper roll supposed to face when he restocked it?

They all seemed like little things, and most people would believe that their tolerance for stuff like that would be great, but patience wore thin pretty quickly. It was small things that added up over time that made people not want him to stay with them, not grand gestures of rebellion or anything like that. Not usually those large, fundamental issues. Besides, he hadn't tried anything rebellious like that in a long time, and he never spoke his mind about what he thought, about who he was. After all, it didn't really matter. They got rid of him pretty quickly, anyways.

But did his new family, whoever they were, wash all of their dishes as they were dirtied, or was leaving them in the sink acceptable? Would he get yelled at for leaving dishes in the sink? Would someone else get yelled at and hit in his place?

It wouldn't be the first time. It wouldn't be the first time if they hit him, too.

Could he play music openly, or was it headphones only? Not like he would play his music out loud, because that asked the question of if he was allowed to curse, and that was almost always a solid 'no.'

But what time was he allowed to be out until?

He had never figured that last one would be such an issue, until one switch of houses in his second year of middle school. The first family thought that he was old enough to handle himself, so as long as he was home before sundown, it was all fine. Well, that worked great, until he got home at eleven thirty at night in his next foster home, only to find everyone up, sure that he had run away, all in a panic. That sure was a shock. They never quite trusted him again. Thought that he was a stupid, irresponsible, uncaring kid.

Really... He just wasn't thinking about making that switch from house to house. He'd been quietly carrying on, unobtrusive at the first house for so long that when they decided they didn't want him he didn't even think about everything changing.

He really would make an effort to learn the new place's rules. It wasn't like he didn't try at all; it was just that, well... He was tired. And being tired for this long had worn down on him.

After all, he had been in the foster system for fifteen years. No one wanted him. And that was fine. He understood that.

But now... Everything had changed in a moment; he didn't know what he was doing at all, anymore.

This might be his last home. Ever.

And it all started with the sports festival, he supposed. If it weren't for that, Shinsou wouldn't have caught Mr. Aizawa's attention. He wouldn't have started training him individually, he wouldn't have moved to class 1A after the other kid was expelled, and Mr. Aizawa wouldn't have noticed that things were... Not quite right with his family situation.

It was fine. No worse than some of the others he had been in. Better, even. Just a little neglectful. He didn't mind; the school fed them well enough to make up for it, anyway.

But Mr. Aizawa didn't take it that way. He took him out of that home so quickly that Shinsou barely had time to gather up his things, it felt like. Not really, since things had to be legally done, but... It was a little bit ridiculous, how much he cared about things like that.

He insisted that it was just his job. His students were his responsibility.

But now he was staying with him and Present Mic, which seemed like a little more than just his job.

They were, as he had been informed, married. Happily, for about five years. With two cats, and no children. And he had no idea how anything worked in their apartment.

The only thing he was sure of was that being gay wasn't an issue. That produced a chuckle. No big problems there, fundamentally.

At the very least, most of the time, he was staying at the UA dorms. That meant not worrying about the little things like curfews and dishes and slippers and bedtimes and everything else. And weekends were mostly spent also at the dorms, watching other students who didn't plan on going home. It was a little nice how lowkey that was, the fact that he didn't have to worry about parent or guardian signatures on anything, or having to go home for things, but he also wasn't in between homes.

But it was also...

Never mind. He didn't need to think like that. He didn't need anything else, it was selfish to want more.

Not to mention, terrifying. And with winter break fast approaching, they would have to deal with the home situation soon enough. For now, he would be looking forward to going back to their apartment for the first real time in months with anticipation...

And dread.

***

The last day of class was over, everyone rushing back to the dorms to get their things packed up. Shinsou watched quietly, walking along through the common room as everyone talked, brimming with excitement.

Well, most everyone. There were still a few immune to the holiday cheer. Bakugou had already stormed off to his room, and Todoroki was just quietly standing beside Midoriya. And Iida still appeared to be getting into it, trying his best to smile and continue. But, for the most part, from the noise and the movement and the bags already being moved-

"Aww, Shinsou! Babe, we've gotta get together sometime over break." Kaminari fell into step next to him, leaning his head against his arm. "I mean, my parents aren't so strict that they won't let you come over at all...?"

Shinsou laughed. "Not a repeat of the camping trip?"

He blushed bright red. "Nope. This time you'll totally be able to come over... If not spend the night. They really have no faith in me, huh?"

"To be fair?"

"Hey!" Kaminari zapped his arm, rolling his eyes. "So anyway, how's it looking lining up to spend winter break with our teachers?"

"Well..." He shrugged, glancing away at where Aoyama was struggling with a suitcase. "They are my legal guardians...?"

They slowed down, just a little.

"I wouldn't be looking forward to it either, man. I feel like Mr. Aizawa would always be watching me!"

Shinsou shook his head. "He's actually pretty chill. It's just... A lot to get used to."

Kaminari raised his eyebrow, turning up to meet his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I haven't really lived with them... At all. So the whole thing just takes adjustments."

Besides the fact that he had to assume he'd be there for the next three years, at least. That was a lot of stress. What if he messed something up badly? What if they decided he was too much of a hassle, or that they didn't want him around? After all, the reverse was true: they'd never lived with him...

Because Shinsou may have tried to make things work in other homes, but never really with this much... Hope. Not since he was a kid. So if they turned him away again? If they decided this wasn't the right choice?

"I'm sure you'll survive." He declared, taking Shinsou's hand in his own. "And I can come over if things get a little too parent-teacher conference."

Shinsou laughed, running his free hand through his hair. "That's the thing - I don't even know their rules on having people over."

"Hmmm... Do you wanna know what I think?"

"What do you think?"

Kaminari smiled with that dopey grin, eyes nearly closed. "I think you're thinking about this way too much, babe."

"Am I?"

He nodded. "Don't sweat it. I'm sure they're panicking about it just as much as you are. Like, to be honest, if I didn't know it was you, I would laugh so hard at the idea of Mr. Aizawa and Present Mic having a kid."

"...wait."

"What?"

"I call them Mr. Aizawa... And Present Mic." Shinsou pointed out. "I mean, that's not even consistent. Should I switch to... Mr. Yamada?"

Kaminari cringed. "I think that's just wrong."

Whether or not he thought it felt wrong, it was about keeping the peace now. Making sure everything worked out smoothly. What if him being there made the holidays awkward for them? What if it was wrong, and bad, and awkward, and-

"Hey. Hey, hey, hey, hey." He grabbed his other hand, stopping and standing directly in front of Shinsou. "You're thinking about it way too much. I mean, like... It's still just Mr. Aizawa and Mic, right? He'll tell you if something is weird, 'cause he's... Him."

"...right. I'm not worried."

"Like hell you aren't." Kaminari rolled his eyes. "What is it that Mr. Aizawa said that one time? It's okay to be scared, you just like... Can't get too in your head about it. Breathe, you know? Then keep going. And it's okay to need help, dude."

Shinsou blinked. "I am... Fairly sure I've never heard him say that."

"I don't know when he said it." He shrugged, a faint blush rising in his cheeks. "'Sides, I mean, could've been earlier in the year... Or after I had a panic attack. Probably then. Also, just remembered that we're holding hands in the middle of the hallway."

"...I don't mind."

Kaminari laughed, blushing even redder. "See, you'll be fine. You really don't care what anyone thinks."

Not exactly true, but...

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend's forehead. "Now, isn't it going to take you forever to get your things together?"

"Ugh, probably?"

"Then let's go get your things together." Shinsou decided, letting go of his hands and pressing the button for the elevator. "And... I suppose I'll cross that bridge when I get to it."

***

Neither Mr. Aizawa or... Present Mic - he couldn't call him Mr. Yamada - did anything particularly strange, or said anything weird to Shinsou over the course of winter break. Everything seemed oddly normal, to be honest. It didn't take him long to get the hang of the apartment; it was kind of a case where he had gotten himself worked up over nothing.

Especially as the break drew to a close, and the three of them just relaxed, sitting around the apartment. Mic was listening to some music as he worked on writing something - a song maybe? - gently humming to himself. Mr. Aizawa was reading, one cat curled up in his lap.

And Shinsou was curled up around his phone in the armchair, cuddling the other cat, just... Trying to chill out. Sure, there were more questions. He didn't understand a lot of how they expected things to work, a lot of the unwritten rules. But...

He would cross that bridge when he came to it. Names, curfews - things like that could wait. For now?

He was just breathing, and moving on. Like Mr. Aizawa may have said. Debatably.

Chapter Text

Momo knew that, as they had time in Ectoplasm's math class to be working on their assigned homework for tomorrow, she should have been actually doing that. Working on it later wasn't something she would want to do, and yet...

She couldn't stop staring at Jirou.

It was a problem for a lot of different reasons. Because she was so adorable: the way that she tapped out a beat with her pencil as she thought, or the way she twisted her earphone jack around a finger. Her asymmetrical hair, or how she was short enough that she just tapped her toes on the floor...

Because she sat three seats forward and one to the right of her, since she was in the back corner, providing only a measly view as she worked on the math problems.

Or maybe because they were supposed to be, well, actually working on math problems.

They weren't hard to solve, but the biggest problem yet still weighed on her mind:

The fact that she wasn't good enough for her.

Spinning her pencil between her fibgertips, Momo sighed, swallowing the lump in her throat. Jirou was so wonderful, in so many ways. She really was not good enough.

She was hilariously funny; witty was the right word, really. Just listening to her snap sharp comebacks back at the Bakusquad was a joy worth listening to the Bakusquad on occasion, for. Her sense of humor was unparalleled, with jokes, memes - anything. No matter what it was, if Jirou was telling it to her, or showing her, Momo was sure she would laugh.

And she was so talented. As a hero, especially in stealth and recon work, but she had improved a lot in hand to hand fighting as well, and in teamwork.

But her music... Her music was part of her that Momo had really fallen for, hard and true. Even before she saw all of the instruments that she could play, she knew that it was a lot. Jirou was raised around music, and her knack for it was incredible. Her voice phenomenal, sounding like an angel, a goddess, a siren who could easily lead Momo to a happy death...

Even right now, she was tapping out a tune. Bakugou growled something at her, probably to stop, and she just switched to tapping on the side of her head so it was quiet. Music was an inseparable part of who Jirou was, and it was like Momo had the song stuck in her head, on repeat, but she would never get tired of the melody.

If she could only deserve that wonderful, lovely girl.

Because she lit up the lives of everyone she was around, even if she didn't know it. Somehow, some way, with that cool girl, laid back vibe, her mismatch earrings and all her nails painted with chipped black paint, she had worked her way through the hearts of the class. There wasn't a single one of them who didn't love her.

That was the thing: she wasn't overbearing. Jirou was gentle, and calm, with yesterday's messy eyeliner on her half lidded, sleepy eyes. When she had a choice of clothes it was big band tees or nothing, and Momo fell in love with the way they enveloped her tiny frame completely.

She loved their height difference. Nineteen whole centimeters, making her he perfect height to kiss on the forehead...

If she could ever gain the courage to do that.

If she ever would. Because Jirou deserved better than her, and Momo knew that. Great grades didn't mean that she would make a good girlfriend; in fact, she was always so focused on school and her quirk and learning how to be "perfect" like her family wanted her to be that she never really dated. So she had never even done any of this before. It was all new.

Jirou probably had, though. She was so cool and confident. So sure in her identity as a lesbian that she had to have been with a girl or two before, to have had girlfriends in middle school even if they weren't serious at all.

And she was completely alright with that. Momo wasn't a jealous person by nature, even if she wondered.

The only thing she wondered about personally was if she was behind. If maybe she was confused after all, and if she had a girlfriend, or a boyfriend in middle school, she would have figured out her sexuality back then, and it wouldn't be such a question now.

Well, it wasn't a question. She was bisexual. She just... Wasn't confident in it.

It wasn't like how Jirou said she was a lesbian, how it was a part of herself. How she was just sharing a descriptor that matched how she experienced the world, and she was sure of it, so no one could doubt it. It was just another thing that she wore proudly on her sleeve.

Momo wished that she could be like that. Instead, when people asked, she blushed, tucked her bangs behind her ear, got flustered.

It was true that she had been attracted to boys, but at the moment all that she needed to know was that she was attracted to Jirou, right? Basically. She swore that was what it felt like. But her sexuality could be questioned another time; it was too complicated for now, and she was in class, twirling a pencil rapidly in her fingers, staring at a girl too beautiful to exist who would never love her back.

Because Jirou... Jirou needed someone stable. Someone safe, someone confident to boost her up when she was feeling down, because she did get down, sometimes. Someone who could take care of her when she had migraines, nurse her back to health in a dark room with some warm - not too hot - tea.

She knew just how she liked it, too. the black tea that has just a hint of cinnamon to it, with honey, and just a touch of cream. And she would smile, eyes mostly closed still, nodding her thanks in the dark. But Momo knew what that meant. She was pleased to just make sure she was okay.

But Jirou deserved one step better than all of that.

She needed someone who could light up her life. She needed the joy and the music and the laughter and the inspiration to come to her through a person, to fall in love with someone because they had it all and they saw it all in her. Because they were willing to stick with each other, though thick and thin. Through everything.

And Momo just... Knew that she wasn't that personal. She wished she was, but she wasn't.

And so, watching the prettiest girl in class three seats ahead and one to the right of her, Momo started solving her math homework, wishing that the other problems would just go away too.

***

"Yaoyorozu. What the hell was that?" The question from Mr. Aizawa after hero training was over was unexpected, but, now that she thought about it...

She should have seen it coming. Momo had been working sloppily all day, hadn't she? And she hesitated too hard to pull off a maneuver that would have worked, had she just carried through. The moment Iida launched off of that ramp on the obstacle course at her she could have course corrected in the air by creating a high powered weapon, like a rocket launcher, from her thigh, firing it off at the last second as she grabbed onto him. That would have tackled him to the ground, giving time for handcuffs, allowing for an effective pin.

But, she had been so sloppy... And she hesitated. The distance had been such that, in the air, she wondered if she could have grabbed him and put the cuffs on him there, or if using the weapon would be necessary. But time midair is slow for reactions, and Iida moved faster with his cuffs, even though she had a plan...

And she failed.

"I failed, sir." Momo stated clearly, standing up straight and tall. "I hesitated in the air, considering what my next move should have been when I already knew, second guessing my choices. I'm sorry."

He nodded, jotting something down on his clipboard. "You didn't fail. This is a training exercise."

She nodded, staring down at the floor.

"If this were a real fight? Yes, you would have failed there, in that moment." Mr. Aizawa added, plain and simple. "But that's why we have training, so we can learn from these mistakes. Don't hesitate. Even an instinct that doesn't quite work out is better than none, because it gets you somewhere. Don't be afraid of speaking your mind, Yaoyorozu. Don't hold back."

Momo took a deep breath. "I'll try my best, sir."

"I'm sure you will." He agreed. "I want to see reckless abandon. Caution thrown to the wind, alright? Understand? If you must go to complete chaos first before you can reign it in, so be that. But you need to move."

"I understand."

"Good." Mr. Aizawa wrote something else on his clipboard. "Don't be so hard on yourself. Just work on improving."

She nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Aizawa."

He tipped his head, continuing to jot down notes as she turned, walking away to the locker room to shower off. Don't hesitate so much. She knew that. She really, really knew that.

But that didn't make it not true.

But she couldn't beat herself up about it. After all, Mr. Aizawa said not to be too hard on herself.

...not that her head would listen, but still. It was nice to consider. And as she showered off the grime from training that day, Momo tried to be kinder to herself. For Mr. Aizawa's sake.

***

Could she really go for it?

Momo's heart was pounding. Her legs were shaking, shoulders tense, head swarmed with thoughts and fears and everything in her screaming that she couldn't do it. She couldn't go for it.

But... Could she? Speaking her mind meant trying it...

Jirou was sitting right there on the common room couch, just watching TV. It would be easy to make her some tea, just how she liked, and... To try, at the very least. That was all it took, after all. It didn't need to be anything but that.

She didn't have to do anything but try to ask Jirou out.

Oh, how that was terrifying.

Everything inside Momo was still screaming that she was not good enough, that she couldn't do it, that she didn't deserve her, but... How could you deserve someone else? You couldn't. She knew that. So, in essence, she could never be good enough for Jirou and that was okay.

There was no particular way she had to be to ask her out. All she could do was try, and... What was the worst that could happen?

She would say no. It would ruin their friendship, making things awkward and weird between them, everything becoming-

Deep breaths. Momo calmed herself, focusing on starting to make the tea.

Kaminari had asked Jirou out once or twice, before she told him she was a lesbian, and before Shinsou replaced Mineta as a member of their class. They were still friends, and good friends at that. Things might change, but...

Way was it that Mr. Aizawa said? That he wanted to see her act with reckless abandon? To throw caution to the wind? That's what it felt like, asking her out, but...

"Hey, Momo! Are you gonna come join me, or what?" Jirou asked from the couch, just calling over her shoulder.

"Yes, I'll be right there!" She replied. "I'm just making us some tea."

"You're amazing. You always make it the best."

"I make it the same as you do." Momo pointed out. "It should taste the same."

"But it's better because you did it." Jirou claimed.

She blushed bright pink. "O-oh. Well, then..."

The tea would be done in a couple of minutes, then Momo would go for it. She would finally ask, just to say that at the very least, she did. Because to hesitate, to not move at all, was worse than to move and not end up quite where you wanted to be to begin with. So she had to make her move.

Maybe that analogy didn't work here. Momo didn't really mind. After all, she was going forward with confidence. Whether it was battle or the idea of dating, it was all kind of similar.

Laughing softly to herself, Momo scooped a spoonful of honey out of the jar, stirring into Jirou's tea.

She made it best.

Still, she blushed from that. Jirou always knew just what to say, somehow. She was always so smooth, and so suave, and cool and pretty and cute and talented and...

Momo couldn't believe she was going for this, but here went nothing. She took their two mugs, padding over to the couch and sitting down beside her.

"Hey, Jirou, can I... Well..." She swallowed. "Here's your tea, and... Can I ask you something?"

Jirou graciously accepted her tea, taking a sip. "Yeah? What is it?"

"Well... Are you free sometime? To get a bite to eat, or..." Momo sighed, squeezing her eyes shut. "Would you like to go on a date with me?"

A long pause. Only the TV going on in the background was making any noise. Some documentary. She opened her eyes.

"...what? Did you just ask...?"

"If you'd..." She swallowed, preparing her heart to ask again. "Go in a date with me?"

Jirou's eyes went wide. "Are you serious? I thought that you would never ask."

"Wait. You actually-?"

"Of course I actually like you." She blushed, crossing her arms, earphone jacks swirling in the air. "I mean, I... I can't begin to describe all of the things about you I think I've fallen in love with."

Momo sighed in relief, a hand over her heart. "I... I think I've fallen in love with you, too."

And Jirou smiled, like all of the stars in the sky, so bright and beautiful, and...

Momo was eternally grateful that she threw caution to the wind, and spoke her mind, at least this once.

Chapter Text

Aizawa felt that he learned something from his students each year. Sometimes, it was that they all needed to be expelled, and that not everything works out as you plan it to. Life is full of disappointments. And sometimes...

Sometimes it was like class 1A this year. Each of them, whether directly or because of others in their class, had taught him or reminded him of various things, worth remembering.

Because Aoyama had learned more of how to be true to themselves, even if that was different from everyone else. And while Aizawa himself didn't directly relate to their struggles... That was a kind of strength and self respect he could learn from. They weren't willing to compromise who they were, their twinkling, sparkly self, no matter what anybody said.

Ashido's commitment to saving everyone had actually reminded him a little bit of All Might, in a strange way. It was disturbing to see his reckless standards transferred onto a student, the anxiety it was causing her so similar to the Symbol of Peace's own, the panic and stress... But that also served as a good reminder. While it was his job to make sure his students were alright, he had to delegate tasks. Hound Dog, Recovery Girl, Thirteen - other members of the staff were all perfectly capable of taking care of students needs as well. He couldn't be the only one.

Asui had reminded him that, sometimes, people listen when you talk. And that is both a good and terrible thing. In that case if was good, but Aizawa had to be careful to watch his tongue, because it was too easy to cause damage. Too easy to not be thinking.

It was funny, in an odd way, that Iida taught him to slow down. To take life as it was coming, and enjoy it, but not worry over too many of the details. To focus on the things - and the people - who really matter.
That was something that he had been stressing out about a lot too. Things changing, with Shinsou's addition to the family. But after talking to Iida... He wasn't as concerned about things. They would adapt things to include him, but they wouldn't make it weird. Invite him to join. To be a part.

And it had worked. Better than he could have imagined.

Uraraka reminded him that, at the heart of all of this, he was working with teenagers. Insecure teenagers. Teenagers who have crushes, who don't understand their feelings, who might never have met a gay adult before. He was reminded that, despite the fact that he wanted to keep his relationship on the down low... Some students needed to know that was alright. Because no one else had ever told them that.

From Ojiro he learned just how much these student's friends will look out for each other. Hagakure positively pestered him about making sure he was alright, because she knew that he could do something about it if he wasn't.

The learning curve with any individual's panic attacks was steep, since any "wrong" stimuli could make it worse, but in a way that's what Kaminari taught him. How to help him when he was hurting, to make sure that he was alright. To be gentler. Kinder. To speak softly and reassure him that it was alright; this was normal.

It was painful to see any of his students have panic attacks. The percentage of pro heroes who suffered from them was extraordinarily high, but they were too young. They had already been through too much.

Kirishima taught him to look for signs he hadn't noticed before, because he wasn't looking. He wasn't the one anyone in the class would choose as being depressed. Of course he wasn't, because he was doing his best to stay upbeat. But that didn't mean that he didn't need help, sometimes. And that was alright.

Kouda reminded him that confidence is something that has to be built up, and that it was an important skill. All of them needed to be able to feel good at things.

Coming across Satou buttering that toast for three minutes reminded him that these students fears and thoughts and hopes and dreams were things they truly got lost in, sometimes. Even if they thought it was silly, or embarrassing, it was very much real to them.

Shouji taught him to be selfless again, but in a different kind of way. Plenty of heroes will do one grand act, save someone from a burning building, but not many will stand in the flames with a person until help arrives. He only technically learned afterwords why he was so sleep deprived, so tired, but... Aizawa figured, anyway.

Jirou taught him how much that group of friends cared about each other. In her time of need they all rallied, trying to help, even if they didn't actually do much. Those friends, while they goofed around a lot, actually did care about each other deeply.

She also reminded him how many other heroes had quirks that caused them to suffer in silence. It was a sobering reminder from someone so young.

Sero reminded him to keep an eye on his students when it came to families. He had met most of them before they moved into the dorms, but... That didn't mean they were good. Whatever was going on there, he didn't need to know; invading his privacy would have just been worse. Because just allowing Sero to have that boundary, to not explain, had meant the world.

Tokoyami cut straight to his heart. He couldn't even think about it without remembering where he was as a student, lonely and hurting, unable to think of a way to release that pain except on himself. That had been a long time ago, but...

It hurt to understand. But he knew that it wouldn't have been appropriate to share, at the time. And so he taught him to keep his mouth closed, to direct him to help the way Hizashi had for him all those years ago.

Todoroki taught him to shut up and listen; just because he was the adult didn't always mean he was right.

Hagakure, just like Ojiro, reminded him of these kids fierce loyalty and devotion. Ashido, Ojiro, Yaoyorozu, and Iida all approached him at separate times to inform him that she wasn't eating properly, and the like. Aizawa was disturbed, obviously, but... Touched by the friendship that showed. By the care.

Bakugou taught him that the truth isn't always obvious. Just because something was there, didn't mean someone was going to see it. Because his home was under investigation at the moment, and from the looks of it? The school would be taking temporary custody until a suitable home can be found.

And Aizawa knew he wouldn't understand why. To him, his home was fine because it was all he knew. And maybe someday he would get it, but he knew right now he was about to be taught patience.

Midoriya taugh him that sometimes, you just have to be there for someone. It's as simple as that.

Shinsou taught him so much. How to start trying to be a dad, even though it was terrifying. How to relax, and just try to make things less stressful. How to teach and train in a way that lifts up more than puts down, because that kid needs it. Too many people in his life had already put him down.

And Aizawa knew he still had a lot to learn.

And Yaoyorozu taught him that, sometimes you can be doing amazingly, and set yourself up for failure. But if you know what you're doing, and you learn to set things up right...

Hopefully it'll all be okay.

A lot of those were old lessons he had learned before. A few were new. But all of them were good, and of these lessons learned, he was sure there would be repeats and plenty of others to pick up from these disastrous problem children.