Chapter Text
“Shinsou.”
The voice emanated from down the corridor. Hitoshi Shinsou flicked an earbud out and pulled down the hood of his hoodie. His eyes narrowed as he turned to look behind him.
The corridor was reasonably busy, it was between lessons after all, but Shota Aizawa towered above the students in demeanour alone. His sleeping bag wrapped around one arm, hands shoved in both pockets. Some of the students turned to look at him as they walked past but Aizawa either didn’t notice or didn’t care, his eyes fixed on Shinsou. One eyebrow raised.
“Where’s your blazer?” he asked, tone bored but with an edge to it. Shinsou tried to smile, get a smirk out of his teacher. No luck. Instead he sighed and dropped his bag to his feet, pulling the dark blue hoodie over his head and stuffing it in his bag.
Aizawa watched for a moment before his glare softened. Shinsou looked up just as he spoke. “Blazer?” the hero questioned again.
“Home,” Shinsou lied. “Sorry.”
Aizawa didn’t reply to that, instead continued down the hallway leaving Hitoshi to sling his backpack across his shoulder and carry on to English. It was May but the rain storms meant the temperature had dropped. Too cold for just a shirt, but he didn’t own a blazer.
Aizawa probably didn’t realise, but UA uniforms were expensive. It came with the territory of being the number one hero school in the country Hitoshi supposed, but just the idea, the thought, of coming up with the money for more than one shirt, let alone a blazer, made him scoff.
“Shinsouuuuu!”
His English teacher's voice drew him out of his thoughts as he wandered into class. Present Mic gave him a wink as he looked up, motioning to the rest of the room.
“Last one to enter class has to tell me why in English!”
Shinsou smiled, pronouncing perfectly, “Erasurehead.”
The lesson was long and boring. Shinsou kept flexing his feet, tapping his legs up and down in order to keep warm. It caught the attention of the girl next to him, she kept looking over smiling softly. In the end Shinsou pulled the hoodie back out of his bag, laying it across his legs like a blanket. Bending over his desk to finish his worksheet without drawing any attention to himself. Letting himself be dragged down into his own little space of nothing, fading away from reality for a bit.
“Another verb would be running?”
“Cooooorect listener!” Mic replied, bringing him out of his trance. “Next!”
There was a silence before Shinsou felt eyes on him. He looked across from him, the girl, Shitsuji, mouthing something in his direction. Something about fighting. Oh wait, just the word, fighting.
“Fighting.” he repeated, hoping he didn’t just make a complete fool of himself.
“Sure thing!” Mic replied with a nod. If the pro noticed how blatantly Shinsou just cheated he didn’t allude to it. Instead the next person in the class took their turn. Shinsou understood now, they were all listing verbs in English for different movements. They did this sometimes with different topics. Shinsou was on top of things usually but this time he flashed Shitsuji a grateful smile, bowing his head at her. She smiled in return and went back to her work.
Another thirty minutes went by quickly. Shinsou made sure his mind didn’t drift this time. It was hard though. Class 1B were training in the grounds right outside and all he wanted to do was bust through the window to join them. They were running up and down the track, Vlad King yelling at them every once in a while so they changed exercise, sidestepping this time before high knees and sprints.
His time would come, besides it was training with Aizawa tomorrow evening, something Shinsou not only regularly did his own training for, but was yet another chance to prove himself. To get into the hero course. He was going to manage it, no matter what it took. But being stuck inside was infuriating, he could literally see his rivals getting stronger in front of him. He longed to be out there, bettering himself alongside those he desperately wanted to call classmates.
As the bell rang, Present Mic made a beeline for him. He could already tell. Whether it was because he’d been caught daydreaming in class or the stupid blazer issue again he didn’t think it could possibly be good.
“Shinsou!” Mic said in the overly enthusiastic way that made the space behind Shinsou’s eyes hurt. “Can we talk? I won’t let you miss lunch.”
“Sure,” he found himself replying as he packed away his things.
Present Mic took that as an invitation, sitting on top of the desk in front, not waiting for Shinsou to look up. “So, you’re not engaging in class and I think I know why!”
The last syllable was sung and Shinsou fought the urge to roll his eyes, instead opting for a slightly less insulting bemused smile. His teacher barely glanced at him. “The lessons are too easy for you. Am I right?”
To his credit, Shinsou was surprised. Yes, they were a bit easy he guessed, but that was because he read a lot of English books. Well kind of read them. First he’d read the Japanese copy, then the English one and compare what little he knew until things started to make sense on the page. It was like a weird puzzle to him, not something he’d admit to doing in front of anyone else.
“Yeah,” he replied. “Sorry I should have said something.”
Mic waved him off with a grin. “No, no, no, but hey! I’m glad I asked. So what do you want to learn? What would make you enjoy English more?”
Now Shinsou was interested. Without giving it too much self conscious thought, he pulled out one of the books from his bag. “I’m trying to translate this at the moment.” he offered placing the hardback on his desk. He felt the warmth of pride when his teacher looked up at him with an impressed look.
“Don’t tell anyone else this,” he began with a stage whisper. “But you’re my favourite.”
Shinsou had scoffed at that but the smile remained. It was nice to be recognised for his work, he could get into his own head sometimes, he knew that. About being behind on training, about not having the right physical strength, the right stamina and skills to be a hero. But maybe…
“Could I get some English work that’s like, I don’t know how to phrase it,” he said, his teacher patiently waiting as he wrapped one hand around the back of his neck. “Phrases and things that hero’s need to know. How to give directions and radio in or talk to police? Something like that.”
Present Mic’s smile grew wider, flooding Shinsou with relief that at least his request wasn’t stupid. “I’ll make something for you Listener! A Present Mic original! Just for a hero in training like yourself.”
Hero in training. Shinsou nearly said ‘You’re my favourite teacher’ but stopped himself. He bowed instead blurting out a thank you as his teacher hopped off the desk shooing him away.
“Get some food.” he urged. “I’ll have it ready for you by the end of the week- oh and thank you for talking to me so openly, listener.”
Shinsou hadn’t ever been thanked for talking before but he smiled and bowed lightly once more before heading out. If he was quick about it he could get into the cafeteria, get lunch to go and do some light strength training before his next class. Moments like that made Shinsou glad he chose UA over trying to get into another hero school. Not that he thought he could just get into another hero school but still, he’d chosen UA because being taught by pro heroes whether it was in fighting or English was something valuable. Something Shinsou wanted to soak up no matter what class he was in.
Speaking of classes, he avoided his own classmates, shooting them a wave as he collected his food but opting to get it to go, half running half jogging to the gymnasium over the block. He hoped it was empty but he wasn’t surprised to see people in there. A few second years, a couple of support students and-
“Yo! Shinsou!”
Kirishima waved from where he and another guy- Sero?- were sparring. Shinsou looked around momentarily for the blonde haired menace but luckily Bakugou wasn’t anywhere to be seen. He waved back, wondering if it was an invitation to join the two but they went back to fighting. There wasn’t much space left in the hall anyway so he found himself wandering over in their direction regardless, dropping his stuff a little way up to begin stretching.
Halfway into a set of push-ups, Sero had been thoroughly beaten to the ground. Shinsou watched as he picked himself up, waving to the door. “Water.” he stuttered as he left.
It was barely ten seconds of silence before Kirishima turned to Shinsou.
“So how’s life dude?”
Shinsou tried to come up with a good answer that wasn’t… Well, ‘good’. “Yeah, working hard, you?”
Kirishima seemed to feel more at ease as Shinsou redirected the question back to him, relaying off his inner monologue with speed. “Oh yeah, we have internships next week which is so exciting man. I chose Fourth Kind cause man he’s so cool. His whole deal is heroes doing acts of public service which is sort of the most noble thing you could think of right? That’s what I want people to know me for anyway. Someone who’s the gentleman hero, someone they can rely on to protect them!” He took a breath, checking to see if Shinsou was still listening. “Anyway, what does the general class get up to during internships?”
“Next week? Reading week!” Shinsou shrugged, finishing his set and lying on his back, a small smile tracing over his lips. “But I’m training as well. Not quite an internship, but yeah.”
“Ah dude that’s sick! With a pro? I wouldn’t be surprised with what happened at the sports festival,” Kirishima beamed. “Oh, did Bakugou apologise by the way? Sorry, he’s an ass.”
Shinsou looked up, a small smile tracing his lips. “Iida did. He sent a mass email.”
“Really?! Let’s see!”
Shinsou pulled himself into a sitting position, reaching back for his bag, gabbing his phone from his side pocket and-
“Shit.”
“You good dude?” Kirishima asked.
Sero walked back into the hall with two bottles of water. He threw one at Kirishima without looking and it hit him square across the face.
“Sero, you dickhead?!”
“Sorry!”
“My phone’s dead.” Shinsou sighed. This was bad. Usually he charged it at school but he hadn’t brought a charger and he couldn’t charge it at home so, library? He could go, well he had to. It was just so infuriating.
“Hold on, I gotcha!” Kirishima grinned. “I want to see that email.”
Sero finished his own bottle of water in one. “What email?”
“Iida sent an email to everyone in first year.”
“Yeah,” Shinsou confirmed. “Did you have a charger?”
“It’s coming,”
“Wait an email?” Sero asked, catching up. “About what?”
“Bakugou and his shitty attitude at the sports festival,” Kirishima beamed. Shinsou still had no idea if Kirishima really had a charger or not but didn’t bother interrupting again. The red head unscrewed the top of his water, gulping noisily. “Man, Iida is so manly for doing that, I wish he told us though, I would have totally apologised as well.”
“You take too much responsibility for him.” Shinsou found himself muttering. Kirishima just smiled however, shrugging.
“He’s not so bad. Once you get to know him.”
Shinsou would have questioned that as well but another figure appeared in the doorway, catching the attention of the two 1A boys.
“Hey Kaminari!” Sero called as the electric kid jogged over. “What are you doing here?”
“Kirishima literally just sent me a text,” Kaminari explained, glancing over in Shinsou’s direction. “Said it was an emergency.”
“Ha, sorry dude you didn’t have to run!” Kirishima said, holding a palm open to Shinsou.
“Please tell me this isn’t your idea of a charger.”
Kaminari caught on, his face morphing into that of defeated annoyance. “For real? You want me to charge your phone? You could have asked me next period man.”
“Not mine, Shinsou’s.” Kirishima replied, looking back at the boy expectantly.
Kaminari pointed at Shinsou with some vigour. “He doesn’t even like us.”
“That’s true,” Shinsou shrugged. “Sorry.”
“Dude! Don’t say things like that to someone who’s doing you a favour!” Kirishima cried in exasperation.
“Who said I’m doing him a favour?” Kaminari retorted.
“Guys it’s nearly the end of lunch,” Sero pointed out from behind them. “I want to train some more.”
Kirishima wiggled the fingers of his outstretched hand at Shinsou. “Give.”
Shinsou did, just in case Kaminari changed his mind, which he did, taking the phone in his palm and slowly fizzing it with electricity. “By the way,” he said as he did it. “I don’t dislike you. Though you have got the biggest chip on your shoulder I’ve ever seen.”
“Can you continue teaching me how to do a backflip Denki?” Kirishima interrupted, turning back to Sero sheepishly. “If you don’t mind doing that instead?”
“Nah, backflip sounds cool. From standing?” Sero replied. “I can kinda do one in the air…”
“Sick!” Kirishima said. “Yeah, from standing.”
“I’ll teach ya,” Kaminari said, handing Shinsou his phone back and looking him in the eye. “I’ll teach you as well if you don’t know how to do one.”
Shinsou felt the word ‘no’ rising instinctively in his throat. Clamping his mouth shut he nodded until he could speak again. “Sure. Thanks.”
-
Walking up to his front door, Shinou breathed out, his breath showing up as a white cloud in front of his face. It was a two and a half hour walk from UA to his house. Nowadays in the mornings he got the train but in order to save money that meant in the evening he walked. No matter what.
He couldn’t stop himself from reaching up at the handle and twisting it. Locked. Which meant his mum wasn’t home. That wasn’t surprising. She hadn’t been home for months.
Every once in a while she found a guy, the ‘one’ as she called it. It never was. And then on rare occasions she went to meet them and even rarer occasions she would go and stay with them. Or as Shinsou would put it, live with them.
He was old enough now, that’s how she’d phrased it. He could manage the house by himself. And he could. At first he was even excited. He could make whatever food he wanted and watch tv until 3am in the morning, have a bath in the middle of the day. His mum assured him that she’d send money for food and the electricity metres, her job was remote so she could work from wherever she was. It was going to be fine.
And then she lost her job. And things really weren’t fine.
Instead of coming home, she decided to join her new boyfriend's company. In Osaka. On the phone she had told Shinou that there would be less money coming in but it would all be okay. It would still be enough.
That was two months ago. It had been three months since she left and there were no phone calls anymore and much, much less money.
He lived on the ground floor of a small flat complex where nothing worked. Slamming the door behind him so it didn’t stick, Shinsou kicked off his shoes, putting his slippers on and padding to his room. There wasn’t a room in the house that wasn’t cold but at least now he was home he could layer up. He also needed to wash his shirt before tomorrow because it was three days old, oh, and clean his shoes that were covered in mud.
He pulled another jumper over his head, feeding the hood through the layers and hooking it over his hair. Maybe he could get away with wearing a long sleeved top under his shirt at school? If he said it was for medical reasons. Then again the last thing he needed was people asking questions. He wasn’t exactly sure if what his mum was doing was legal but even if it was, it would be frowned upon at UA. He could see Present Mic’s face now, that look of concern and disappointment that made Shinsou’s stomach twist in an uncomfortable manner. Erasurehead would be pissed off as well, no doubt about it.
Shinsou unpacked his bag on top of his bed, turning the English book over in his hand thoughtfully. He wondered if Mic had read any of the same ones he had. Maybe he could ask at some point if it wasn’t too weird. For now he could at least continue translating it.
He also unpacked the plastic bag containing the food he’d gotten from lunch. If he could, he tried not to eat too much at school, that way he had leftovers for dinner. This month the priority had to be the electricity meter and the water bill. So he could at least stay warm and clean. He did have food but it was the basics, miso paste, rice, instant ramen and coffee. As well as a little stash of snacks he had, Pocky and packets of Calbee chips.
He spotted his charger out of the corner of his eye, cursing under his breath and grabbing it, roughly shoving it into his backpack. He would not forget it again, today was embarrassing enough. However, he’d managed to get the backflip with Kaminari spotting him. It was actually fun, not that he wanted to admit it. These students were meant to be his rivals and yet somewhere in the midst of all of that Shinsou had forgotten they were just fifteen year olds like him. He wasn’t ready to just shake the bitterness he had but Kaminari had been right. The chip on his shoulder was fucking massive. Well, they probably also had hot water and mothers.
It was too cold to go and train some more, he decided as he wandered into the kitchen, filling up a saucepan with water. So he’d make some ramen to have with his leftovers, do some studying until it was too dark to see, wash his shirt in some more of the boiling water and dish soap and hope that it would be dry by the next day.
-
It wasn’t.
Luckily Aizawa didn’t make him wear his UA gym gear to training. Hitoshi had asked once and the pro had replied;
‘If you care about it that much by all means put it on’
It was obvious to him now that Aizawa had been joking, but this was the first training session Shinsou had had with the teacher and the drawl of the sentence matched with the pro’s smile had freaked him out so much he kept his mouth clamped for the rest of the session. Now it was second nature. Aizawa came in his hero gear and Shinsou came in the only tracksuit joggers he owned and whatever T-shirt smelt the least like B.O. He preferred this because he could focus on the training. If a shirt got ripped or mud streaked down his trousers it didn’t matter because he wasn’t relying on wearing them the next day as well. With UA uniform, if something got damaged it had to be an overnight fix so his uniform was ready the next morning. And his sewing skills were already being tested to their limits.
Aizawa raised his eyebrow as Shinsou rounded the corner into the fields, a sigh leaving his mouth and showing up in the cold evening air. I’m his defence, he said nothing but ‘Let’s get started then.’
The evening's training was focused on close combat with the capture weapon Shinsou had been given by Erasurehead. It was made of the same material as the pros but was slightly shorter. Apparently only with more training would Aizawa allow it to be made longer. This way, Shinsou wouldn’t just launch himself into a building. Although he had inadvertently tried, once or twice.
“Quicker with the pull back,” Aizawa remarked, dodging the move Shinsou was making in an attempt to bind him. “The longer you leave it hanging in the air, the more of a chance someone has to move.”
Shinsou breathed quickly, repositioning his hands and trying again. This time he tugged the weapon back too soon and the material hit him across the face. He could see Aizawa’s smirk.
“Again.”
This went on for nearly twenty-five minutes before the pro allowed him to take a break. Shinsou wrapped the scarf around his neck and jogged over to his bag, picking up the water bottle that was lying on the ground and swigging the water greedily.
Aizawa had gotten out his phone and was texting someone, casually looking back up as Hitoshi walked back over, placing the device back in his pocket.
“Warm?” the pro asked, in a tone that sounded like Shinsou was being told off. He nodded and Aizawa’s expression softened. “Okay, let’s move onto something harder.”
The next session they had, Aizawa didn’t make Shinsou do any sort of warm ups, instead leading him to a different part of UA’s training grounds.
“I want to see how you do with the capture weapon in a smaller space. An alleyway for example,” Aizawa explained, leading Shinsou who was following at his heels. He’d left his stuff at the locker rooms, jumper included and could see the goosebumps rising on his skin as the two walked in the early Spring evening. Aizawa seemed completely at ease and Shinsou wondered if the teacher had extra layers of clothing under his costume. He knew the hero course kids got changes made to their costumes during the season change so it would make sense. “Here will do,” Aizawa commented, stopping just before one of the side alleys between two classroom buildings. “Show me what you’ve got.”
Hitoshi nodded, stretching his fingers out in an attempt to get some blood in them. Aizawa glanced down at him.
“You need to start coming better prepared,” he said, motioning towards Shinsou hands. “Look at the weather app once in a while or something.”
“I don’t have any gloves.” Shinsou replied with more edge than he intended. “Sorry.”
The look on Aizawa’s face turned from one of annoyance to one of something softer… Shinsou couldn’t put his finger on it but it instantly made his cheeks go red with something that wasn't cold. He honestly had expected to have been told off, not whatever this was.
Eventually Aizawa shoved his hands into his own pockets, rummaging around a little before pulling something out and thrusting it in the boy's direction. “Wear mine.” he said simply, shaking them again so Shinsou took them.
“It’s okay,” he mumbled but was ignored. Aizawa gave him a look and he took them, pulling them onto his hands. They were faux leather, padded on the inside and fingerless so Shinsou could still have control of his scarf. “These are nice.” he commented. Aizawa smirked.
“You can have them, let’s go again.”
Shinsou gawped. “Sensei, no, it’s fine. They’re too nice.”
“Too nice for who?” Aizawa asked, as if it was an insult. “They’re a tool. They help you do your job better. They’re only made like that to stop them from getting damaged or wet.”
“Right. Sorry.”
“Stop apologising and start showing me that they help,” Aizawa muttered. “I don’t have all day.”
Shinsou nodded, bowing at his teacher. Thinking of something and smirking as he looked back up. “Hey, Sensei?”
“Yes?”
“Can you do a backflip?”
Aizawa glared. Shinsou opened his mouth to apologise but the pro moved quicker, throwing his arms in the air and jumping up with force, back and over, landing exactly where he started.
“Can we get on with it now?” he drawled, turning and walking further into the training ground.
“Yes sir, sorry.” Shinsou mumbled, running to catch up. Holy shit.