Chapter Text
I walked over to the black-haired boy in the doorway, grabbing his hand before dragging his lean frame over to stand in front of Nezu’s solid, dark-wood desk, just as I had moments before during my previous, rather grueling trial.
De ja vu, truly.
The mouse sat in his oversized chair once again, little hands folded on top of the sturdy wood like the judge, jury and executioner I knew him to be. Judge Judy had nothing on this little guy, and I knew he’d be far more ruthless than she ever would be. Aizawa had placed himself once more beside him as All Might did his best to straighten himself up by the window.
Honestly, it wasn’t really working.
Poor thing.
I couldn’t help but think that in all things non-villain-fighting related, he was sort of a mess.
Nezu cleared his little throat, drawing the attention of the room back to him. He waited, the air around him heavy with an annoyance that hadn’t been there before.
I was in trouble.
“One more thing to explain?” he asked, beady eyes cold as he took in the boy who stood beside me, his own greys downcast against the carpet.
“Yes,” I breathed. “I’m sorry.”
Aizawa scoffed, face blank.
“Don’t waste your time. Just explain and get on with it,” he said, monotone as ever.
(Like an asshole.)
I glared at him for a moment as I attempted to figure out just what to say about my friend and companion, my fellow stowaway and partner in crime. Nezu obviously wasn’t thrilled knowing there were two Adenish children who had lied their way onto his campus, and I just couldn’t quite figure out how to lessen the blow for the both of us.
Turns out, though, I wouldn’t have to.
Ever the martyr, the boy next to me began to speak.
“Pardon me for the intrusion,” he started, bowing his head slightly. “I am Shade Blackwood, third of my name, Royal Knight of Ademium, head guard under the Order of the Desert Jewel. I am bound by duty to protect his royal highness, Denki Kaminari Raijinshuu, third prince of Adenium, cherished jewel of the desert, from any intended harm or hardship. I was sent undercover as a general study student at U.A. to assist his highness should he face undue duress.”
The mouse considered this for a moment.
“It seems you have failed in your mission then,” Nezu stated, not unkindly, gesturing towards the pile of assassins still knocked out in the corner.
Though he didn’t move, Shade seemed to shrink in on himself.
Duty was never something he took lightly.
“And for that I cannot apologize enough.”
Shade turned to me, face taut, eyes filled with emotion. He fell to the ground swiftly, so fast that at first I took a step forward as if to catch him.
But he hadn’t fallen at all.
He was kneeling.
He knelt there, on the carpet of Nezu’s office, on one knee, inclining his head.
Oh dear.
“Your highness, I apologize greatly for my failure to assist you during your time of need. Please feel free to assign consequences as you see fit.”
I could feel my cheeks grow red with heat.
Shade had always been one for the dramatics.
I would know, as we had grown up together.
He was one of my first and most trusted friends.
Growing up in the palace, things could grow relatively lonely, especially since my siblings and I were so differently aged at the time. But, amongst the friends I made in town and school and in the castle, Shade had always been the only one who stuck around unfailingly. His father was a royal guard, as had been his father before him, each serving a member of the royal family with an unshakable, dog-like loyalty that could never be bought or broken or cheated.
It was a loyalty that had been won over the years.
Though, I wasn’t sure until recently when I had won Shade over.
I suppose someone must have told Shade of his family legacy early on, because even when we were just children he would tottle after me, mouth set in a firm line. He was my shadow, always living up to his name. He followed me everywhere, and we played and fought and grew and ate and got into trouble together, side by side (though I doubt he would have gotten into any by himself, the rule-stickler).
Back in the early days, whenever I would attempt something that he did not approve of, like stealing sweets from the kitchen or climbing high into the branches of the garden trees, Shade would shake his head, cross his arms, and stomp his little foot, not saying anything but watching, lip trembling as tears gathered in his little eyes. And I, with my mother’s gentle heart, would stop whatever scheme I was setting into motion, frowning, and walk over to his shaking form. I’d put both his cheeks in my little baby hands. I’d wipe his tears, and apologize, and explain how whatever I was planning on doing wasn’t bad enough or wouldn’t get us into enough trouble to warrant such a response. He’d sniffle, and wipe his nose, and he’d nod in understanding before allowing me to do whatever I had planned in the first place, just as long as he went first to make sure it was all safe.
Eventually, once we got older, he’d just sigh before helping me with whatever shenanigan was next.
I’d always counted myself lucky to have Shade as a friend. He made up for all the places where I might have lacked. He was cautious where I was reckless, analytical when I was emotional, suspicious when I was trusting. He had saved me from countless dangers over the years, and he had relished in it.
When the war began, Shade was determined to stick by my side, just as he had always done before. His quirk was strong, and he had been training with his father and the knights for a few years by then. He thought he could protect me, and he wanted to do just that more than anything in his life.
But, when it came down to it, he was just a child too.
They sent Shade off with his father to uphold his royal duty and ensure the safety of citizens near the border, helping to smuggle out artwork, artifacts, and more that might have gotten destroyed in the fight. It was supposed to be safer there, but it wasn’t. Everywhere had been a battlefield, but especially so where once safety had been promised. He, a lot like myself, had gotten a crash course in combat and the horrors of war. He fought, and protected, and did all he could for his people all while trying desperately just to survive himself.
It was only once I had woken up from my uncle-slaying induced coma that he told me that, in the moments that counted, it wasn’t the Adenians he had been fighting for at all.
He had always been fighting for me.
Growing up, as he had confessed, Shade had always struggled with making connections to those around him. His quirk, aptly named “shade” allowed him to control and shape shadows, summoning them, dispelling them, and even making them solid, bringing shadow-creatures to life around him from his whims. It was, undoubtedly, a more spooky power, and though Adenium is more progressive when it comes to quirks than most places, many, especially when we were young, were frightened by his ability. They were terrified of Shade, and he couldn’t figure out why.
He was just a child too.
He had tried to reach out, but to no avail. Burdened with too many emotions, Shade was cursed with a distinct inability to share them or express himself. He didn’t know what to say or when to say it. Words and feelings bubbled on top of each other, building in pressure until it was too overwhelming to even think.
But, apparently, he never had that problem with me.
When he didn’t know what he wanted to say, I had the words. I never once shied away from his power, beautiful and strange as it might have been.
Even more so, I saw that he was just a child too.
I take pride in the fact that I won not only Shade’s loyalty, but also his friendship.
Which is why I had to hold back from rolling my eyes at the boy when he teared up on the floor below me.
“Shade,” I said, voice gentle.
He looked up, eyes wet.
“You did nothing wrong. You know that. You came when I called, and that is the most you can do. You cannot be everywhere all at once. You did good, and all is well.”
He looked down for a moment, taking it all in. He breathed. Then, finally, he wiped his eyes before pulling himself up to his feet once more.
He inclined his head to me in a bow so formal it made me want to smack him on the back of his head.
“Thank you, your highness,” he said reverently.
Like someone who hadn’t pushed me into the river when we were eight. Or who hadn’t tripped me whenever we were passing in the halls, him shadowing (hehe) a patrol as I tended to my lessons. Or who hadn’t licked the last cookie on the plate so I wouldn’t eat it. Or who hadn’t drawn mustaches on my face when I fell asleep first at sleepovers. Or who hadn’t-
“Oh,” All Might said, looking flabbergasted at the whole exchange. “You’re like… royalty royalty.”
Aizawa snorted.
I wish I could have shaken Shade in that moment to make him relax even partially, but it was clear to me that being here, at U.A., so far away from home, in the middle of uncertain grounds, he was struggling. He was scared of this place and these people in front of him. He meant what he said when he said it to me, but maybe not as literally as the people in the room thought he did.
Essentially, in being so aggressively formal, he was trusting me to use my training and my position to protect us both.
(He was hiding behind me like a little kid.)
Of course, I would take care of it. And I was glad he felt comfortable enough to give me the reins, especially with how protective everyone had gotten after the war. This was big steps forward for Shade, who had spent the first few weeks after I had awoken like Jesus from my slumber opening doors, pulling out my chair, tying my shoes, and hovering about two feet over my shoulder. Though he had loosened up eventually, after a fair amount of pleading, I was never sure if he ever truly trusted me anymore.
It was relieving to see that, when it came down to it, he did.
“How did you summon him, might I ask? I don’t believe you have your phone on you,” Nezu questioned, still calculating. One little claw was tip, tip, tapping on the desk.
It was unnerving.
“My watch” I said, lifting my arm, pretending like I wasn’t terrified that the teacher in front of me would eat me and throw the scraps to Aizawa. “There’s an emergency button on the side that sends an alert to Shade’s watch once I press it.”
At my side, despite still being slightly shaky, Shade lifted his wrist to show off the watch of his own.
“I push the button if I think I need backup-”
“-and I locate him as quickly as possible,” Shade finished.
“Took you a while to find him this time, didn’t it?” Aizawa asked, still smiling slightly with his arms crossed over his chest. He was analyzing the two of us the same way Nezu was, appraising in a way that made my hands twitch as I lowered my wrist back down to my side.
Shade remained impassive, besides perhaps the tips of ears which had turned slightly pink. A stranger wouldn’t have noticed it, but I had insider knowledge on all things him.
“This school is… rather confusing,” he said, forehead wrinkling slowly. “Which I imagine was the purpose of the design.”
Nezu laughed.
Approval.
All at once, the tension in the room seemed to be lifted.
For the first time since Shade had appeared, I felt like I could breathe.
“Indeed it was, young one. Now, all things considered, it seems rather counterproductive of us to leave you in the general studies program all the way across campus from your charge. If Aizawa sees it fit, I might consider transferring you into 1-A to serve as a permanent guard.”
“You’re going to allow him to remain in the school?” All Might asked.
Nezu shrugged.
“Why not?”
“I mean,” Aizawa said. “When it comes down to it, what’s one more problem child anyways?”
Nezu nodded solemnly, turning back to his laptop and papers scattered across his desk.
“As long as there are no more surprises-”
“There aren’t,” I interjected.
“-I don’t see why we wouldn’t take them both”
I turned to Shade, who was looking rather bewildered beside me. I smiled, gently taking one of his hands and squeezing it before letting it fall back down to the boy’s side.
“Thank you,” I said. “I still don’t know how to properly thank you.”
Aizawa rolled his eyes.
“Don’t get too thankful. You still have detention, Kaminari. You and your royal guard.”
My jaw fell open and I let out a rather undignified squawk.
“For what?” I exclaimed, putting my hands on my hips. “For getting attacked? I didn’t ask for that! I would have asked it not to happen at all, if I had had the choice!”
Aizawa glanced at me, face miraculously blank once more.
He just looked tired.
“For lying about all of this to begin with. Do you know how much paperwork this is going to take? Just… grab a body and we’ll take them down to holding until the end of the day.”
I sighed, moving after him towards the assassins with my companion in tow. Aizawa grabbed the heaviest of the three, which was kind, while I grabbed the elastic one, leaving Shade with the guy remaining.
“What about Shade?” I asked, simply just to ask. “He’s blameless, relatively.”
Aizawa glanced over the assassin’s body at my closest friend.
Totally blank.
“He’s associated with you, and I doubt he’d let me separate you even if I asked.”
Shade glanced back at the teacher as he slung the assassin over his shoulder, their dead stares measuring each other out.
“True,” he said, face blank.
And, oh my god, I thought, horror rising, there were two of them.
And deep in their souls, though I love Shade more than anything and respect Aizawa as the protective, badass teacher/hero he was, I also knew that they were both assholes.
This was going to be the worst.