Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

VI.
The Real Hell Begins Today

As Shouta watches Shinsou’s form disappear around the curve of the street, his phone chimes from the depths of his pocket. He digs into his pocket and pulls it out, the screen lighting up with a notification as he does so.

Hizashi, 5:49 PM:
Heading home. Will you be there?

Shouta sucks in a deep breath, tasting the sweetness of the rain still lingering in the air on his tongue as he does so. 

No. 
Sent, 5:50 PM. 

He turns then, shoving his nose into the scarf bundled around his neck and digging his hands deep into his pockets. His feet move swiftly beneath him as he turns down a dark alleyway. He should be heading home right now. He should be heading to his apartment to help make dinner with his husband and spend the rest of his evening catching up on sleep, but he can’t. 

Well, he could, but he doesn’t want to. There’s far too much on his mind right now and it’s bothering him– if he went home now he’d probably be sneaking out later anyways. An unsound mind never fails to make him restless, it implants an itch under his skin that no amount of naps, cat videos, or cigarettes can easily satisfy. If he goes home now, he’ll most likely pace a hole into their living room floor and he would rather avoid another talking-to from Hizashi. 

So, he turns to a method that never fails to distract him: an adrenaline rush. Shouta tugs out a strand of his scarf, curls it around an electrical pole and flings himself up into the evening sky. 

The second his feet land on a ledge, Shouta breaks off into a silent sprint. Muscle memory and years of practice washes over him comfortably, fitting his working muscles like an old glove. The rhythm is hypnotically familiar to him: vault, land, roll, leap, flip, swing. The strain on his muscles calms him and is more grounding than any meditation exercise, perfect for drowning out unnecessary thoughts. He's a flash of black in the darkening sky as he darts from rooftop to rooftop, leaping and vaulting off of palisades and mesh fences.

Eventually, a familiar building fills his vision, the path climbing up to his favorite perch as well known to him as his name. Shouta lands on the roof, satisfyingly worn out and panting. 

With slow steps, he crosses the roof toward a large HVAC unit by the ledge of the building. He drops his back against the wall of the unit, shivering slightly at the sudden cold metal touching his sweaty back, and slides down to sit. 

This is his favorite spot in the entire city. This perch is the perfect height to spy at the city from above, but high enough that no one can see him. It also provides the perfect view of the city skyline, framing the sight of the nearly extinguished sunset like a painting. 

He takes a moment to just sit and gaze at the sunset. Slowly, the panting in his chest levels to a calm pace and the rush of adrenaline fizzles into a warm buzz in his limbs. 

Despite the satisfying sprint managing to burn off some excess energy, the restlessness of his mind has not relented. He's bothered by something. Well, more like somethings. One, what happened during yesterday's training still bothers him, despite apologizing and promising Shinsou to do better. Two, their conversation today revealed some things about Shinsou that has Shouta worried. 

Shouta is certain that what happened yesterday will haunt him for the rest of his life. He's a human being and human beings make mistakes, so it's only logical that he messes up from time to time. But yesterday can hardly be summed up as just "messing up”. An understatement of the century, more like. 

He was despicable yesterday. His actions both as a teacher and as a damn adult were so amateur and embarrassing that he has half a mind to go and get his head checked to see if something is wrong.

To recall the disaster of epic proportions that was yesterday succinctly: Shinsou violently collapsed in the middle of training due to Quirk exhaustion as a result of Shouta’s ignorance. After being taken to the old lady’s ward to be treated, instead of letting the kid recover and get the rest he needed, Shouta reacted emotionally and instigated a fight with his own student.

He argued. With a student.  

He rubs aggressively at his dry eyes as a heavy sign escapes him, ignoring the new bottle of eyedrops in his belt for the sake of suffering with the burn of his dry eye.

How immature.

The memory of Shinsou collapsing still plagues him. Every time he closes his eyes he sees the kid collapsing to the ground over and over. 

The bright red blood staining Shinsou’s pale face, how it rushed down his chin and smeared across his cheeks, how it splattered into the boy’s palm every time he coughed roughly into his hand. How tears cut paths through the blood on Shinsou’s face, mixing together and dripping down onto the concrete floor. He can still hear every painful cough and wheeze that wracked Shinsou’s lanky form, every desperate wet gasp for air as if the boy were drowning in his own blood. He remembers the way Shinsou wilted in his and Hizashi’s hands, borderline unconscious from the exhaustion and the stress on his body. 

Morbidly, that’s not even the worst sight he’s ever seen on a child. Hell, Shinsou isn’t even the youngest kid he’s ever seen trembling, disoriented, and covered in their own blood, but it sure as hell wasn’t a sight he wanted to see on the kid. Never, was the idea. It was Shouta’s job to make sure that never happened.

And to make it worse, the poor kid hadn’t even been in the old lady’s office for all of ten minutes before Shouta pounced on him with accusations and an interrogation. Instead of giving the kid time to heal from an obviously exhausting and painful bout of Quirk exhaustion like the responsible and logical teacher he claims to be, he accused Shinsou of being a liar and snapped at him while he could barely even sit up straight. 

What was he doing snapping at a kid like that? What the fuck was he thinking?

Well, Shouta knows what he was thinking. He was thinking, “Holy shit, I just made this kid collapse into a bloody heap on the third day of training, what the fuck is wrong with me?” 

Not that it changes anything. He’s a grown man, a Pro-Hero and a teacher with over ten years of experience under his belt for fuck's sake, there’s absolutely no excuse for taking his anger out on Shinsou like that. Even Hizashi reiterated that fact once they left Chiyo’s office to take Shinsou to get his things and then take him home. 

“What in the hell was that, Shouta?” Hizashi said as soon as the boy’s locker room door swung closed behind Shinsou, his voice quiet but biting, “I get that you’re frustrated because training went south– but snapping at him? What the hell crawled up your ass and died, man?”

Shouta could barely even reply then, nearly overwhelmed with guilt and even more furious with himself for hurting Shinsou again. “I know,” was all he could whisper, “I know.”

Hizashi had just stared at him, his green eyes boring into him as he minutely shook his head in disappointment. “I know you do. As your colleague and as a fellow teacher, I’m going to tell you anyway. Shinsou deserves an apology for what happened– but not right now. Shinsou needs to recover, you need to collect yourself, and tomorrow he’s going to get a damn magnificent apology, ya dig?”

So Shouta apologized– of course he apologized. He spent all of last night making sure he chose the correct words to iterate that he takes full responsibility for what happened and to make it crystal clear that Shinsou was not, in any way, at fault for what happened during training. Then when he had that down, he spent the rest of Friday coming up with a damn good schedule that can help the kid reach his dream of getting into the Hero Course.

Then like a kick to the liver, Shinsou looked like a deer in headlights during the apology. He looked so genuinely surprised that Shouta was sorry for what he did, for his unfair cruelty and his ignorance to his health and safety, that it makes Shouta’s chest ache. Shinsou even went as far as to try and justify his poor actions toward him, as if he deserved it, and then apologized himself for collapsing and for defending himself against Shouta’s accusations.

Which inadvertently led Shouta to learn a few things about Shinsou that only made the guilt and his fury he feels for his actions exponentially worse. He learned two things about Shinsou in that moment. 

One, Shinsou is desperate to have anyone in his corner, desperate for any help that could potentially aid him in achieving his goals. 

Two, due to said desperation, Shinsou is also willing to do anything to achieve his goals. Even if that means putting up with cruel training, even if it means hurting himself. 

"I don't regret it." Shinsou had said, his purple eyes alight with burning determination, “I wanted to find my limits, even if it hurt, and I did.” 

Shinsou may not regret it, but Shouta does. This was not the precedent he had intended to set with the kid. His training is meant to be hard and challenging, but it’s not supposed to be so bloody. It’s not supposed to end with the kid in debilitating pain and unable to walk. 

Shinsou being so willing to put up with it is incredibly alarming. This is not a habit that Shouta intends on instilling in the kid– matter of fact, it's one that he'd prefer to avoid at all cost. He used to be that way, so willing to hurt himself for the sake of progress, breaking himself in hopes of healing stronger than before. He regrets instilling that in himself, and he'll be damned if he allows Shinsou to do the same thing. 

His fingers itch for a cigarette to press to his lips, but just like the eyedrops he denies himself of it. He shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, restraining them there. 

He truly hopes he echoed those sentiments in his apology to Shinsou, that Shinsou knows without a doubt that Shouta fully intends on righting his wrongs and doing better in helping him achieve his goal. To keep him safe and help him grow. 

But Shouta is also grown enough to know that an apology and a trip to visit Charm isn't enough to make up for it. Apologies are nothing but meaningless words if they’re not backed up with genuine change– actions to turn his intentions of doing better into reality. And, most of all, he owes Shinsou better. The only way to ensure that he never repeats this mistake again is to analyze every detail, every facet of the situation, and make sure he never repeats any of it ever again. 

First and foremost, the proximate cause of the entire shitshow: he got distracted. 

There’s no denying that Shinsou’s Quirk is truly something else. He knew this the minute he laid eyes on the kid at the sports festival, he knew this when he watched the kid purposely choose not to use it while saving Charm, but it’s another thing to see it in action first-hand. Even in its current rudimentary form, it has so much potential that it’s egregious that Shinsou was just left to sit in General Studies. The ability to stop a villain in their tracks is itself a valuable skill, but to add on top of that, the ability to control what they do for a period of time, no matter how minimal? The things the kid could accomplish with just that is astounding. 

But he let this wealth of information distract him from what was truly the priority at the time: Shinsou’s safety. He was so distracted with trying to get information about the boy’s Quirk that he didn’t notice that Shinsou was quickly declining. The voice cracks weren’t just moments of teenage awkwardness, the strange excuse of needing to sneeze wasn’t some poor attempt at being funny, they were signs that Shouta should’ve picked up on.

He’s a teacher at a school made to train and raise teenagers into heroes, accidents with Quirks happen all the time; it’s to be expected with kids who are pushing their limits and learning to have better control of abilities that, when pushed too far or are misused, can harm themselves or others. But it’s his job as their teacher to look out for them, to nip those issues in the bud before it even reaches that point. It’s his job to remain focused, to be observant, to put his student’s safety above anything else. 

His failure didn’t just end at causing Shinsou’s collapse– if anything he threw oil into the fire. He was so furious at himself for being so thoughtless, for recklessly pushing Shinsou too far, and he did the one thing he swore to himself that he’d never do. 

He let his emotions overwhelm him. He lost control of himself and he unfairly snapped at Shinsou, and he can’t help but hate himself for it. 

His jaw aches as he grits his teeth, the fury he feels for himself reigniting and burning deep within his chest. Memories of Shinsou sitting on the recovery bed, exhausted and pale and so angry with him. He remembers the way the kid completely shut down after Shouta snapped at him, how he avoided even looking at Shouta.The complete and sudden neutrality of his face, lacking any sign of emotion. 

The memory clashes harshly with the memory of their vet visit just a few hours earlier. Shinsou's scrawny legs crossed on the floor, his lap filled with a puddle of happy cats and a small amused smile on his round face. He thinks of Shinsou hesitantly explaining how he came up with Charm’s name, so clever and intelligent but so unsure of himself. He thinks of Shinsou teasing him for his shit creativity, a little awkward but witty. 

That was the most content he has ever seen Shinsou, save for the night Shouta first met him. It was the first time Shouta's ever seen the kid smile too-- it was small, barely there like he was trying to hide it, but there nonetheless. 

That's how he wants to see Shinsou. That's how he wants to remember him. He wants to see that smile again, he wants to see Shinsou cheer in success when he meets a goal, he wants to see that glint in his eyes that Shouta only got a glimpse of that Monday night when he offered to train the kid. The same glint in his eye that was there when he damn near landed a blow during their first combat session. 

He wants to see the kid grow in confidence. He wants to hear more of his smartassery. He wants the kid to succeed.

Above him, the moon peeks through the misty grey clouds in the sky, threatening another late night rain shower. Shouta looks at the bright white of the moon, his dry eyes dazzled by the light as he feels the unnerving buzz underneath his skin finally begin to settle and fade away.

In order for Shinsou to succeed, Shouta must do better. His success starts with him, and he'll be damned if he fails Shinsou again. 

Rain begins to gently fall, nothing but a light, cold drizzle. Beneath his skin, the itch has disappeared. 

With a new promise to keep, Shouta finally heads home.

Shouta lands onto his apartment balcony without a sound, thoroughly soaked head to toe from the late night shower. With a flick of his head he tries to shake as much water off him before quietly sliding the balcony door open, left unlocked.

He steps into the living room, greeted by a blanket of thick, quiet darkness. His footfalls are silent as he crosses through the room, dodging around the dark outlines of familiar furniture with ease as he makes his way to his bedroom. As he reaches the hall to his room, however, Shouta pauses in his step, stopped by a soft dim glow that spills into the living room from the kitchen. 

Drawn by the light, Shouta removes his wet boots and unwinds his soaked scarf from his neck before softly padding toward the light. He stops just as the edge of the soft glow from the kitchen, silently admiring the sight before him. Standing there in the kitchen, working silently with his back facing Shouta, is Hizashi. 

What he is doing is obscured by his body, but the soft clinking of ceramic and metal filling the kitchen says his husband is stirring something into a mug. Inferring by the late time of night, Shouta would bet money that Hizashi is making his favorite night time tea: chamomile with a disgusting amount of honey. 

Shouta looms there comfortably in the shadows, expertly utilizing the moment to just watch Hizashi stir his tea.

Hizashi was very angry with him for how he treated Shinsou, rightly so. If Shouta hadn't self exiled himself to the couch last night, he's sure that Hizashi would've done it himself. Then, Shouta left for work before Hizashi, their resident early bird, even got up. Then Shouta focused all his free time during work on making Shinsou's schedule, so he hasn't had the chance to be with Hizashi since the tense, silent car ride home the day prior. 

In short, Shouta has missed Hizashi. So, sue him if he takes a moment to just enjoy watching his husband simply exist, comfortable in the home they've created together.

Eventually, he taps his foot firmly on the ground twice to get Hizashi's attention. The effect is immediate; Hizashi’s head instantly jerks toward the hallway, his green eyes landing on Shouta’s before quickly dropping to his rather soaked form. Shouta internally enjoys the way Hizashi’s expressive face flickers between so many emotions: initial shock, then relaxing and softening at the sight of Shouta, then his eyes dart to the small puddle he’s dripped onto the floor and his soft gaze quickly morphs into an unamused glare. 

Hizashi huffs before turning back to the counter, revealing a towel and a second mug behind him. He trades his own mug of tea for the towel before quickly striding over, wasting no time tossing the towel over Shouta’s head and gently squeezing the water out of his mane of hair. The towel is blissfully warm and soft against his cold, clammy skin. Hizashi must’ve just pulled it from the dryer while waiting up for him— and Shouta’s heart has got to stop skipping like this.

Hizashi works silently, focused on wiping away the remaining raindrops from his face and neck. Shouta stands there obediently, captivated by the way Hizashi’s blond lashes flutter with each blink, the way his lips twitch as if amused. Eventually, Hizashi deems him wringed out enough and drops the towel around his shoulders before looking Shouta in the eye.

“Did everything go well?” He asks softly, his words rounded slightly without his hearing aids. His eyes then drop to Shouta’s lips, waiting to read his response straight from his mouth. 

“I... think so,” Shouta softly responds, choosing his words carefully, “I gave him the schedule I made him.”

“Hm.” Hizashi hums thoughtfully as he inches closer, his long fingers gently pushing wet strands from his face before burying themselves into his damp hair. “You owe me for skipping dinner, bastard.”

A smirk curls across Shouta's face as he drops his boots and scarf to the floor in favor of curling them around Hizashi's warm waist. He pulls Hizashi in until they're chest to chest, their heartbeats touching, "Hmm, how ever can I make it up to you, Zashi?" He says in a low baritone, knowing Hizashi can feel the vibration of every word. 

"Just kiss me, Shouta." Hizashi huffs impatiently, and who is Shouta to deny such a request?

Their lips finally meet, Hizashi's lips soft and warm against his own, the intense wave of warmth against his cold skin sends a shiver shooting up his spine. They kiss gently and sweetly for a moment, relaxing into each other’s touch, before Shouta cups Hizashi’s cheek and pulls him even deeper.

The heat of Hizashi's cheek seeps deliciously into his cold palm; his fingers trace over the peak of Hizashi’s cheekbone, across the sensitive spot under his ear and bury deep into his soft hair at the base of his neck. Hizashi gasps softly from the touch, which Shouta eagerly takes advantage of, pressing deeper and reveling in the sweet taste of Hizashi's mouth. 

Hizashi tastes like his favorite chamomile tea, lightly floral and earthy, with that sweet-bitter taste of honey. Hizashi eagerly kisses back with vigor and Shouta floats there, letting his senses fill with everything Hizashi: his never-ending warmth, his subtle scent of leather, his sweet taste, his soft sounds of contentment against his lips.

They pull apart after a few more pleasurable moments, just far enough for each of them to see each other’s flushed faces. Hizashi laughs softly, lower than his usual register, and Shouta burns that sound and the sight of his kiss-reddened lips into his memory as best as he can. After a moment, he leans in again and presses another soft kiss onto Hizashi’s lips, a more formal apology for his late arrival home. Hizashi kisses back with a playful nip to his bottom lip, a coy acceptance to the apology. Shouta can’t hold back a soft laugh in amusement against his husband's lips.

This kiss ends sooner, much to Shouta’s silent dismay, as Hizashi pulls him further into the kitchen and presses his favorite mug into his hand, still wonderfully hot from the tea. Shouta gently presses his forehead against Hizashi’s in silent gratitude before taking a greedy sip of the hot tea. The tea travels down his chest to his stomach, warming him slowly from the inside out.

Silence settles as they stand together in the warm light of the kitchen, sipping their tea and leaning against each other, just basking in each other’s presence. Shouta feels lighter than he has this entire week, finally feeling settled in his skin and eager to do better. He presses his cheek into Hizashi’s sturdy shoulder, lazing in the warmth the touch provides, until he starts shivering.

“Ridiculous bastard,” Hizashi signs with his long fingers, tapping Shouta to stand up straight again, “Go take a shower before you get sick.”

“A logical suggestion.” Shouta teasingly signs back in response, “Join me?”

Hizashi playfully rolls his eyes and quickly begins herding him toward their bedroom, pausing only for a moment when Shouta quickly wipes up the puddle he made in the hall. Once they reach their bathroom, Shouta immediately sets out to turn the shower on to heat up as they undress. They take turns helping each other out of their clothes, inspecting age-old scars they've long since memorized alongside their newer additions as they go. Soon enough, the bathroom has grown thick with steam from the rushing water and they crowd into the shower together. 

Shouta is pushed under the stream of hot water first, giving him the chance to rinse off the cold rain and sweat from his impromptu run. The water is perfectly hot as it washes away the cold clinging to his chilled skin, reviving his limbs slowly but surely. Once he feels thawed out enough, he makes Hizashi switch with him.

He stands there in awe at how handsome Hizashi looks as he relaxes under the steaming water, his eyes fluttering closed and his head tilted back under the stream. For probably the millionth time since he and Hizashi got together, Shouta curses his innate lack of artistic skill because the way Hizashi looks right now deserves to be immortalized. 

The way Hizashi’s golden hair trails and curls around his shoulders and chest, the way his long eyelashes and his facial hair look even softer when they’re damp, the way the hot water makes his cheeks so pink that his eyes look impossibly greener. The languidly trail of the black ink of his tattoos, trailing along his forearms, up to his shoulders and onto his chest. 

His ogling is cut short when Hizashi tries to reach past him to grab the shampoo, which Shouta quickly intercepts. He switches their positions again, ushering Hizashi to sit down on the deep ledge built into the shower as a seat. Hizashi huffs at him in amusement, signing an off-hand "Goof."

The smell of cedarwood fills the thick air of the shower as Shouta lathers ridiculously priced shampoo into Hizashi’s hair, intensely focused on dispersing the shampoo evenly across the strands. Once each strand has been lathered, Shouta begins massaging soft circles into Hizashi’s scalp— focused right behind his ears where his hearing aids usually sit. Hizashi sighs happily, pressing his head against Shouta's stomach at the attention. Shouta rinses the shampoo just as diligently as he lathered before repeating the process with Hizashi’s conditioner.

Once his hair has been rinsed and pinned up, Hizashi switches their places once again. Hizashi lathers the shampoo in his unruly waves carefully, taking his time to detangle as he goes. If he had the physical capability to purr, Shouta would certainly be doing so. Shouta wilts under the touch, resting his forehead against his husband’s stomach and letting his tired eyes flutter shut, hypnotized by the way Hizashi’s long fingers press deliciously against his scalp.

He falls into a slight doze against Hizashi’s warm stomach, fully intending on staying this way forever, until Hizashi taps him on the shoulder and motions for him to stand up. Together they help each other scrub their bodies, sharing a few tired, chaste kisses here and there until they are both thoroughly cleaned and their skin is red from the hot water.

Nearly dizzy from exhaustion and the heat of the shower, they ditch the shower and quickly dry off. They change into some clean night clothes, brush their teeth and take turns blow drying each other’s hair. By the time they’re both dried and dressed for bed, they’re thoroughly exhausted and the sky has begun to lighten outside their windows. 

Shouta quickly rectifies this by closing their blackout curtains and dragging Hizashi into their bed, wrapping them in their many blankets and curling their limbs together into impossible knots. He curls his arm around Hizashi’s torso and pulls him close, burrowing his face into Hizashi’s chest. Hizashi in turn presses his face into the top of Shouta’s head, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and burrowing his hands into Shouta’s mane of hair once again. 

Two small thumps shake the bed slightly, followed by a pair of meows. Soon enough, Shouta feels Chicken curl up against his back while Bell settles at their feet. 

Exhaustion creeps in fast, and as his eyes grow heavy and sleep beckons him, he feels Hizashi squeeze him three times in quick succession. 

I love you, Hizashi says. 

Shouta squeezes back, I love you too.

As they tend to do, Monday rolls around in a particularly unsavory way. One moment Shouta's spending his weekend staying up all night grading his students' assignments and trying not to curse their family names (how Midoriya manages to hand-write a ten page response to a short answer assignment or how Kaminari manages to abuse the word "perchance" every other sentence will never cease to test his patience)-- then the next moment he's walking into work beside his husband, glaring at the too-bright sun with a thermos of coffee death-gripped in his hand. 

They reach the teacher's lounge, which is blissfully quiet on this boring Monday morning. Just as they've sat down at their respective desks and logged into their computers, Hizashi turns to him. 

"So, you finally made a schedule for Shinsou's training. What's the plan for today?" 

In lieu of a verbal answer, Shouta double clicks quickly on a file and opens the document with Shinsou's schedule. Hizashi leans over to look at it, nodding slightly as he reads along the calendar. 

"Hmm, well thought out here, Eraser," Hizashi drops his chin into his palm, his eyes still reading the calendar, when he suddenly stills, "Annnnd I see that Quirk training is scheduled for Wednesdays, the one day in the week where I'm free all afternoon..." He trails off, raising a knowing eyebrow at Shouta, which quickly morphs into a cocky smirk at Shouta's responding eyeroll. 

"I'm sure he would appreciate some guidance from a fellow voice-based Quirk user," Shouta boredly laments, dutifully ignoring Hizashi's not-so-silent cheering right beside him, "And a guinea to command around." He adds under his breath, smirking behind the lip of his thermos when Hizashi immediately squawks in offense

“Too easy.” Shouta huffs internally.

"Ignoring that last part, bastard," Hizashi pointedly hisses, punching Shouta's bicep to add unnecessary emphasis. Shouta merely blinks at him in response. "I knew you'd see reason, my favorite man of logic! He'll learn how to use those wicked vocal cords in no time!" He crows happily. 

"Mm." Shouta nods, sipping at his coffee again. 

"So, calisthenics and parkour training on Mondays and Fridays," He reads off the schedule, "Combat and stealth on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and Quirk training on Wednesdays-- is there a reason that Quirk training ends an hour earlier than other days?"

“Mm,” Shouta nods as he swallows his coffee, “At the moment, I don’t want to risk him over using his Quirk again.” 

Hizashi nods enthusiastically beside him, "Makes total sense, yo."

"Shinsou also mentioned to me on Thursday that he had an interest in learning sign language. It's only rational to make both Quirk training and sign lessons on the same day for your convenience." 

"What?!" Hizashi yells, right into Shouta's ear. Shouta merely blinks, mumbling a "Loud." under his breath, "He really said that? Why didn't you tell me sooner! I've gotta plan his lessons! Gotta start with the basics, the sounds and fingerspelling, shouldn't be an issue for him given how quickly he picks up English, should honestly be a breeze for him," Hizashi's voice slowly trails off into a mutter as he turns back to his desk, grabbing a bright blue pen and a notepad to begin drafting some lesson plans.

Shouta lets him work, basking in the quiet of the lounge as he readies his lesson plans for the rest of day. 

Shouta’s morning classes pass by easily, fortunately, but he’s thankful for his lunch break either way. He’s just grabbed his sleeping bag from under his desk and was quite intent on heading over to his hall of vending machines when his phone vibrates in his pocket. With a grunt, he shoves the jelly packet he was holding into his mouth as he pulls his phone from his pocket, his home screen blinking with a few texts from Hizashi. 

Hizashi, 12:02 pm:
Meet me in conference room 2. 

Hizashi, 12:02 pm:
;) ;)

Shouta blinks at his phone screen, once. Twice. Re-reads the texts. Contemplates where he could hide his husband's body where no one will find it. Then ultimately, graciously, decides to temporarily block Hizashi’s contact as punishment. Just as his thumb hovers over the block button, his phone vibrates in his hand again. 

Hizashi, 12:03 PM:
For LUNCH. Get your head out of the gutter!! Have you been hanging around Kayama recently? Without me?

Hizashi, 12:04 PM:
I’m grabbing our lunch from Big L.R. right now, meet you there in a bit YEAH! 

He can’t help the irritatingly fond sigh that huffs out of him as he re-reads Hizashi’s texts, but he’s thankful there’s no one else around him to hear it. He can’t risk letting people know he’s so damn fond of this dumbass. 

Fine.
Sent, 12:04 PM.

Shouta takes his time making his way to conference room 2, a small room similar to the one he brought Shinsou to on Friday. He wastes no time taking over the couch once he arrives, laying out his sleeping bag and crawling in. His eyes fall gratefully shut and he relaxes into a comfortable doze as he waits for Hizashi to show up. 

The next time his eyes open, Hizashi has slid the conference door open with his foot, carefully balancing two lunch trays of food on his arms as he does so. Shouta silently watches as Hizashi spins in place, slides the door closed behind him, then eagerly makes his way over to the couch. He sets the trays down on the coffee table in front of them before plopping down onto the couch. 

"Hey heya Sleepyhead," Hizashi says too cheerfully, basically sitting on top of Shouta's legs without a care in the world, "Lunch has been served by yours truly, so sit up and tell me your thoughts on Shinsou's Quirk while we eat."

With a short grunt, Shouta inches his way into a sitting position, releasing his arms from his cocoon to eat the lunch Hizashi brought him. It’s a simple meal of teriyaki chicken, rice, and stir-fried vegetables, along with a small mug of hot tea. He takes a few bites of his lunch, ignoring Hizashi’s impatiently eager gaze burning on the side of his face, carefully chewing and swallowing before finally answering. 

"Beginning with the basics. We know that Shinsou's Quirk requires: one, a verbal response from the intended brainwashee, two, it only activates when Shinsou wills it to, and three, the brainwashed person will do whatever Shinsou commands. Two is relatively straight forward, it either does or doesn't work unless Shinsou wants it to. The first and third, however, have more nuance to them." He pauses, taking a sip of his barley tea. 

Hizashi hums next to him, his mouth full of food. 

"We first explored the extent of what exactly Shinsou can command of someone under his control, and we discovered that his Quirk isn't so simple as command and obedience." Shouta takes a bite of rice, swallowing before continuing, "His commands are give and take, as I see it. Depending on the complexity of what he intends the brainwashed person to do, it takes energy from him in order to give the command. He could probably command you to stand still and not move for hours, but if he were to command you to sprint as fast as you can around Ground Gamma endlessly, he'd spend all his energy in one go." 

"Right, that makes sense. Most Quirks tend to have a drawback of some sort like that." Hizashi nods, licking some sauce off of his thumb. 

Shouta nods in agreement, "On top of that, Shinsou cannot command you to do just anything, his commands have constraints. First, if the command is complex-- like trying to make you pat your head and rub your stomach while jumping on one foot," He smirks, thinking about the black mail video he has saved on his phone. "Shinsou needs to say exactly what he wants you to do-- down to which limb he wants to do what. Second, if a command requires the brainwashed person to think-- like answer a question or say their name-- the person will not respond. With you, we explored speaking, humming your favorite song, and signing, none of which worked. Though, if Shinsou were to specifically command you to sign something, via listing exactly how your hands should move in a command, he could speak through someone." 

Hizashi grows quiet silent beside him as he digests the information, giving Shouta time to focus on finishing his bowl of chicken and rice. Eventually Hizashi speaks again, "So his commands aren't so cut and dry, huh. Say, what would you say the limit of his Quirk use is?"

Shouta shoves a big mouthful of chicken and rice into his mouth, purposefully giving himself some time to think of an answer. 

He thinks back to that day, pinpointing the exact moment Shinsou reached his limit. Training only lasted about 45 minutes in total from Shinsou's first command to the moment he collapsed. The moment he should've made Shinsou stop-- probably when he requested to get a drink, and that silly comment about needing to sneeze. Shinsou kept going for another 15 minutes after that.

"I'd say he should be limited to 30 minutes of Quirk usage, but by the last ten minutes he needs to be adamantly observed for signs of strain. I had him promise me he'd share when he's not feeling good, but he--" Shouta sighs, running a hand down his face, "He might not even notice it himself."

"All in all,” He continues, “Shinsou’s Quirk is obviously underdeveloped, even by first year standards.  It’s logical to conclude from his unfamiliarity with giving commands that he hasn’t had many opportunities to practice with his control.”

"Makes sense," Hizashi nods, "Can't go around using it all willy-nilly, as Shinsou said." He hums, leaning back into the couch beside Shouta, his hand idly fidgeting with his glasses, “Being under the control of his Quirk was… odd. It was like I was dreaming, or at least, I was aware I was unconscious, but it wasn't like lucid dreaming. I remember nothing of the exercise. One moment I was speaking to the two of you and then boom, getting an Aizawa-Knuckle-Sandwich straight to the face– and I still intend on getting my lick back, by the way, don't think I forgot about that.” He shoves Shouta, making him drop the food in his chopsticks, “It wasn’t uncomfortable, but I won’t lie and say waking up to find my body being somewhere I didn’t leave it wasn’t weird.”

“Mm,” Shouta hums, suddenly deep in thought. So being under Shinsou’s Quirk felt like being asleep, with a sense of loss of time– perhaps Shinsou’s Quirk acts more like ‘suggestion’ to an unconscious mind rather than taking control of a person? It would make sense as to why the person who is brainwashed cannot think for themselves, though surely even unconscious people are able to think in some capacity given that some are able to sleep talk. Perhaps as Shinsou gets stronger with his commands, or "suggestions", rather, to an unconscious mind, he'll be able to command them to "sleep talk" as well--

“Earth to Eraserhead! Hellooo, anyone home in there?” Hizashi says loudly, repeatedly poking Shouta’s forehead and leaning into his face, “Hellooo–”

Instinctively Shouta’s hand slaps over Hizashi’s mouth, quickly cutting off the irritating drawn out note from Hizashi’s lips. He half-glares at Hizashi for the unnecessarily dramatic attempts at getting his attention, only for Hizashi to lick across his palm in vengeance. Shouta peels his hand away from Hizashi’s mouth, revealing a triumphant smirk hiding underneath. 

“So childish,” He mutters, wiping his wet palm across his thigh. 

Hizashi only grins wider, “Called the oldest trick in the book for a reason– it’s cause it works! Anyways, I wanted to ask before lunch ends,” His grin slowly turns softer, his head tilting slightly, "What do you see in the little listener that made you decide to help him? I know I’ve been joking about the whole mini-zawa thing, but you’ve never done something like this before.”

Shouta stares at Hizashi, surprised by the question. His hand creeps up to his neck, adjusting his capture scarf on his shoulders as he considers his answer. 

Hizashi is right in saying that this whole situation is out of character for Shouta. Typically, he sticks to taking care of his own 20 students because his 20 take enough energy from him as it is. Hell, even Nezu was shocked, or as shocked as he can be with his seemingly omniscient knowledge of what happens under his school's roof, by his decision to personally train Shinsou. 

He just-- saw something in the kid that he knew he could offer the right guidance for. He thinks, hard, about when that moment was, when something clicked in his mind that shifted his guidance from a hypothetical to a literal possibility, then it clicks. 

The textbook. 

It started when he found the textbook lying under the dumpster, practically waiting for him to find it. The loose leaf pages bookmarking page after page in the first few chapters, the annotations Shouta saw peeking out from the edges of the textbook. He knew the moment he recognized the textbook that he'd offer his help to Shinsou, and it was only further solidified when he returned it. 

“Did I tell you that the night I offered to train him, it was in a dark alley in the middle of the night?” He asks simply after a long moment of silence. 

Hizashi’s eyes widen comically, “What?! No, you happened to leave that out of your explanation! What the hell was the kid doing out so late– what was he doing in an alley? How did you–”

“Relax.” Shouta glares,  “I'll tell you.”

He takes a small breath before beginning, “While I was observing him last Monday, I watched him leave school to go to a park. Once he got there, he walked over to a group of trees and sat down to do some school work and to nap for a few hours. But then, out of nowhere, a cat shows up as if she were looking for him."

Hizashi is silent beside him, eagerly listening as he speaks. 

"She woke him up and as soon as he saw her, he immediately knew something was wrong. Then, she started running and, without question, he chased after her. She eventually led him to an alleyway where three kids were throwing rocks at a kitten.”

Hizashi’s eyes drop into a glare, coupled with a low disapproving grunt. 

“He reacted the same way. I expected him to charge in and use his Quirk to incapacitate them, but he surprised me. I watched him calm himself down, take the time to quickly calculate a plan to stop the kids and rescue the kitten, and then semi-successfully execute it. He threw his backpack at one of the kids and it spilled open, then he kicked the second and seoi-naged the third.” He huffs slightly at memory. 

“He ends up saving the kitten and telling the kids to get lost.” He continues,  “Now, while he runs off to take the kitten to a nearby vet, I noticed something left over in the alleyway from his backpack spilling. It was a textbook.”

“A what?” Hizashi asks, shaking his head in surprise. 

"It was a criminal justice textbook, the same one I've been using to teach my 1-A kids. It was annotated and bookmarked, he was obviously studying from it— and I know General Studies doesn’t teach from that book. Once again, this kid surprised me. Then he continued to surprise me when, hours later in the middle of my midnight patrol, I find him back in the same alleyway, looking for the textbook."

The memory of Shinsou spinning around at break-neck speed due to Shouta spooking him causes him to break into a small smile, "I tell him point blank he was destined to fail—" He cuts off as Hizashi jabs his boney-ass elbow into his ribs, "Which—" Shouta continues with a growl, shoving his husbands elbow off of his ribs, "Is objectively true, and he didn't even blink an eye when I told him that. But when I offered to train him— his eyes lit up. It was nearly impossible to tell, but I saw it."
 
Shouta sighs, "For all you joke about us being similar, I remember being where he is now. I remember the hope of having someone there to support me. I didn't get that until after the brunt of the hard work was already done, not until you and-- Oboro."

There's a moment of silence between them then, Hizashi making no comment while Shouta tries to organize his thoughts. There’s a sudden emptiness in the air. 

"I guess what I'm getting at is that Shinsou has surprised me, and that I of all people understand where he is coming from-- I know exactly what he has to face in order to achieve his goals. I also know how difficult it is to do that alone. He's smart and determined, but he lacks confidence. He's too critical of himself. He's observant and he's clever but he overthinks and it feeds into his self-doubts. He just needs a chance to prove himself; to have someone in his corner. I think that I'm someone who is able to do that for him.” He finishes, leaning back further into the couch. 

“Well,” Hizashi says happily after a moment, “I know just the guy for the job— Eraserhead's his name, I think you might know him? He’s got this unruly head of dark waves, looks like he’s never slept a day in his life, and also happens to wear this black uniform that looks like a janitor’s unifo— OW!” He suddenly squawks as Shouta’s sharp elbow finds a home in his lower ribs, pay back for earlier. Shouta's ears ring slightly from the shout, but he’s long since used to it. Hizashi manages to dislodge his elbow from his ribs, pouting as he rubs at the assaulted ribs.

“Bastard,” He murmurs, headbutting his forehead against Shouta’s gently. 

Shouta headbutts him back, just as gently, “Loud mouth.”

“That’s it!” Hizashi shoots up determinedly, “You’re on dish duty YO! Amazing voice hero Present Mic– OUUUUT!” He quickly speeds over to the door, giving a cheeky two-finger salute to Shouta as he passes through the doorway and into the hall, slamming the door behind him as he leaves. 

Shouta sighs as he glances at the dirty lunch trays, mentally calculating how long it’ll take him to take them all the way back to the cafeteria. About a five minute trip. 

He logically determines that resuming his nap from earlier takes precedence, the trays can wait a few more minutes. 

The school day has finally ended and Shouta now stands at the gates of Ground Gamma, waiting for Shinsou to arrive. Today marks the first day of hell, he sincerely hopes Shinsou has come prepared. 

As usual, he hears Shinsou before he sees him, something he plans on working on with the kid, by the sound of his footsteps along the dirt path leading into Ground Gamma. As Shouta turns to greet the kid, his eyes immediately latch onto his face. 

Shouta squints slightly, trying to make out if he’s actually seeing faint marks on Shinsou's face. They're barely there, almost shadow-like, but it's hard to tell in the dim light of the tunnel leading into Ground Gamma. 

Shinsou levels his typical bored, half-lidded stare at him, looking rather annoyed by Shouta’s staring. Shouta expertly ignores him as he tries to figure out what's on Shinsou's face. Besides the unusual marks, Shouta analyzes the seemingly ever-present shadows lingering under the kid's eyes and the way his shoulders have hiked up slightly under his ears. 

"There, uh, something wrong with my face or..." Shinsou drawls boredly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his clean, bloodstain-free uniform. 

"Hm," Shouta hums in lieu of a direct response, deciding not to say anything, "How are you doing?" He asks instead. To anyone else, this would sound like a typical greeting, but Shouta is certain Shinsou hears the indirect request for a check-in woven into the question. 

A test, of sorts, to see if their promise from Friday still holds true. 

Shouta watches as Shinsou sucks in a silent breath before slowly letting it out, forcing his shoulders to relax from their posts under his ears, “I’m okay.” 

Now it’s Shouta’s turn to give an unamused stare, silently beckoning the kid to give a better, more honest, answer to his question. His look draws a sigh from Shinsou that sounds like it has a healthy amount of teenage disdain, a good sign that Shinsou’s next answer will be a more accurate one. The kid scuffs his shoe against the ground as his hand reaches for the back of his neck. 

“I’m tired,” He finally says, as if it's the greatest inconvenience of his life to admit, “Which just so happens to be my natural state of being. So, other than that, I’m okay.”

Shouta tilts his head curiously, “Not getting enough sleep? Is that typical for you?” 

“Mm,” Shinsou hums noncommittally, “Something like that.”

“Care to elaborate?” 

The kid’s glare at the ground says ‘not really’, but he answers anyway, “I’ve always struggled sleeping. For as long as I can remember.” The kid says, shrugging awkwardly. 

“Have you seen a doctor about it? How much sleep do you get at night?” 

“Look—“  Shinsou sighs, “I’ve tried all the things, the teas, the— the melatonin, reading before bed, none of it works. I’m used to it. ‘Sides, our training has helped me sleep longer. No need for a doctor’s visit.” He finishes with a slight huff, seemingly growing impatient with the conversation. 

Shouta hums quietly, dutifully noting all the information Shinsou just imparted on him in his mental notes. If those eyebags don’t get any better within the next few weeks, he’s dragging the kid back to Chiyo’s. 

“If it gets worse again, I expect you to tell me.” He says pointedly, staring unblinkingly until Shinsou nods in acquiescence. 

“Fine.”

“Good.” 

And with that, Shouta turns and heads further into Ground Gamma with Shinsou right on his heels. 

"I trust that you’ve studied the schedule," He says as he leads the kid over to the blue mat, "So you should have an idea for how training will go today." 

Shinsou hums behind him, "Stretching, calisthenics, a short break, then tag." He recites easily. 

"Good," Shouta says, stopping once they reach the mat and turning to look Shinsou in the eye, "My expectation for you today is that you learn how to do the exercises I demonstrate for you with correct form and control. I also suspect you will be running today, so I hope you have been staying hydrated." He finishes with a smirk, which earns him a huff from Shinsou. "Clear?"

"Clear." Shinsou dutifully responds.

"Then let's get to work. Today, your training for the hero course truly begins."

He leads Shinsou through their typical stretches, giving Shinsou ample time to warm up his muscles after sitting all day, before finally leading him over to a small cut-off section of Ground Gamma. It looks similar to the rest of the grounds, except that the industrial fixtures are more reminiscent of work out equipment.

"You've said that you've been practicing parkour as a hobby. Have you tried calisthenics as well?" He asks, turning to face Shinsou. 

"Not really, no." Shinsou shakes his head slightly, "I don't really have access to equipment and stuff." 

"Well, count yourself fortunate then, because calisthenics doesn't require heavy equipment like other forms of exercise. The exercises I’ll show you can be done with improvised equipment; some chairs, a doorway and an open wall should do." Shouta walks over to a horizontal rebar welded between two metal pillars about a foot above his head. He jumps and grabs onto it easily with one hand, hanging casually in the air as he continues, "In order to build agility for both combat and parkour, you must first master control of your body." 

With slow, controlled movements, Shouta begins pulling himself above the bar until his hips are fully above the bar, then he lifts his legs up into the air until he's holding a one-handed handstand on the bar. "Balance, coordination, core stability— all aspects that are key to improving agility and bodily control. No weights, no fancy equipment. Just your body." He continues casually, holding the handstand perfectly before fluidly flipping off the bar and landing in a crouch. 

Shinsou stares at him with widened eyes, blinking silently for a few moments before finally muttering, "And this is supposed to help with parkour."

Shouta nods, rising from his crouch and crossing his arms over his chest, "Yes. Every time you vault over a wall, land after a jump, or climb an obstacle, your body is absorbing the impact. If you don't train your muscles to handle it, you'll be needlessly wasting energy, and worse, you'll injure yourself. This will help you build functional strength."

"Mm," Shinsou hums in consideration, eyeing the pull-up bar behind Shouta, "Being in control of every movement"

"Exactly," Shouta nods, heading over to a set of parallel bars, "If you learn how to use your body and energy efficiently, you'll start moving with precision. Now, I want you to start with some chest dips," He demonstrates the move with a few reps, slow and controlled, until Shinsou nods in understanding, "Go until failure."

Shinsou obediently takes Shouta's place on the bars, lifting himself up and slowly lowering himself just as he demonstrated. Shouta watches calmly, observing the kid's form and mentally counting the reps. Once Shinsou finally reaches near failure, his arms shaking with the strain of lifting himself back up, Shouta uses his capture scarf as a band under his feet to provide a few final assisted reps. Shinsou grunts as he finally drops from his last rep, grabbing at his surely burning shoulders.

"Good. You'll have a minute break between sets, then you will repeat that two more times." Shouta says, leaning against a nearby wall as Shinsou stretches his arms. The second a minute passes, Shinsou's back on the bars to do his second set with Shouta diligently watching his form as he goes. He corrects him only once on going too fast, but he finishes his remaining two sets perfectly. 

They follow this pattern for the next few exercises: L-sits, crunches, pull ups, squats, followed by push-up and plank variations. By the time Shinsou finishes with his final push-up to plank rep, he collapses to the ground with a heavy huff. 

"You'll have a short five minute break, then we move onto handstands." Shouta advises, tossing the kid's water bottle over to him. 

"Handstands," The kid grunts breathily, slowly rolling himself onto his back and sitting up to sip at his water. 

"Handstands." Shouta repeats, almost amused, "You'll need to get real familiar with your body's center of gravity. Knowing how to control it will improve not only your parkour, but also skills in combat and stealth."

Shinsou weakly glowers at him with his typical unamused glare, sipping a few more times at his water before capping it and wiping his mouth with his sleeve, nodding "Handstands."

With a silent huff into his scarf, Shouta leads Shinsou over to a tall wall and walks him through the basic form of a handstand, first letting him get used to kicking up into a handstand against a wall as a support before slowly inching him away from the support. He acts as spotter when Shinsou inevitably has his sore arms try to give out from under him, but to Shouta's silent satisfaction, the kid doesn't complain once. Finally, after a few sets of holding a handstand for as long as he can, Shouta calls it. 

"Alright kid, break time."

Shinsou tumbles down from his final handstand, landing unsteadily on his feet and flopping onto his ass like a ragdoll. The kid grumbles slightly in pain before fully flopping onto his back. 

"Handstands," Shinsou grouses under his breath, his red face slowly returning to it's typical pallor. 

Shouta leans against a nearby wall, stretching his neck from side to side as he leaves Shinsou to his break. However, after a few minutes of quiet, Shouta can sense Shinsou staring at him from his spot on the ground. 

"Got a question, kid?"

Shinsou doesn't flinch or show any other signs of getting caught by his staring. He does, however, sit up from his splayed out position on the ground and reach for the back of his neck nervously. The kid has really got to kick that habit if he wants to work as a hero. 

"I... I was just wondering— and you don't have to answer, if you don't want to, that's totally fine. Well, not that you need my permission for that—"

"Kid."

"Right," Shinsou snaps his jaw shut a little too hard to sound comfortable before taking a breath, "You did what I'm trying to do, right? Went from GS student to the Hero Course."

Shouta blinks, surprised that Shinsou even knows about that. Not that it's meant to be a secret, he couldn't care less if people knew he only started in the Hero Course by his second year, but it's not often that students know about that. 

"I did." Shouta tilts his head curiously, interested to see where Shinsou's going with this line of questioning. 

"What did you do... I mean, how did you manage to win during the sports festival?" Shinsou asks, an air of awe to his quiet voice. 

The question takes Shouta back. Memories flash in his mind's eye of the many nights he spent locking himself in his father's dojo. The long hours he would spend practicing take-downs and desperately fighting to gain control of his capture scarf. That was all he had going for him, then. Some proficient martial arts skills and some half-assed control of a capture scarf that screwed him over more than it helped him. 

He put all of his focus then on practicing his opponents down as quickly as possible before they realized what the hell was happening with their Quirk. It was before he had his goggles. 

He remembers the layers of bruises that built up night after night, they way he could barely roll over in bed without tearing up from the pain and soreness in his muscles. He remembers the sleepless nights where his brain conjured new strategies to try out instead of resting. 

He remembers being the only one who believed in him. He remembers being alone throughout the entire process, with no one to share his victories or his losses with. 

He remembers the bone-deep feeling of determination that overcame him when he finally stepped foot in that arena with his first opponent. He remembers the fierce, overwhelming buzz of joy when he actually managed to win. 

To answer precisely: "I trained. Hard. From the moment I failed the Hero Course entrance exam and got placed into General Studies." He crosses his arms across his chest comfortably, "Why do you ask, kid?"

The kid basically deflates at the answer, in his own way. His shoulders drop ever so slightly and his mouth twitches, but otherwise remains unbothered, "Oh. Makes sense."

Shouta lets silence swell between them, giving Shinsou a moment to either continue his questions or make a comment. Neither happen, so Shouta pushes off the wall and drops down to sit in front of Shinsou.

He has an idea as to why Shinsou is asking this question. If the kid knows his history as a student at UA, he must see Shouta's success and history as his roadmap to reaching his goals. 

The kid couldn't be further from the truth. If anything, Shouta's journey is a tale of what not to do. 

"My journey to the Hero Course had it's own troubles," He pauses, considering his words and how much he's willing to share with the kid. However when he sees the way Shinsou looks at him with such attentive eyes, eagerly waiting to hear what he has to say, he ultimately decides it's worth sharing, "For one, I did it completely alone. And two, I didn't go about it in the best way— not that I knew that then."

"But you won. You got first place and got placed into the Hero Course, surely it was worth it?" Shinsou shakes his head in confusion, wrapping his arms around his knees. 

"I won, yes," Shouta pauses, looking Shinsou in the eye, "But the bad habits I instilled in myself only made things harder for me in the long run, and it took a long time for me to break from those habits. Your journey will look nothing like mine, if I can help it." 

Shinsou shakes his head again, "What habits could you have had that were so bad, Mr. All-rational?" 

Shouta raises an eyebrow, nearly huffing at the irony, "Pushing myself so hard during my training that I collapsed." He answers pointedly, just a little satisfied by the guilty look that flashes across Shinsou's face. 

"Sorry--"

"I get it kid." Shouta cuts him off carefully, "I felt the pressure to get better as quickly as possible too, that pressure didn't go away even after I got into the Hero Course. I know how heavy that weight is. It pushes you to take shortcuts and try to force improvement, to hurt yourself in the name of getting stronger. But Shinsou," Shouta leans in, "Once you share the weight of that pressure, there will be no need for shortcuts. It's no longer just on you, it's on Mic and I as well. Do you still need to do all the hard work, to put in all of your effort and more? Absolutely. But Mic and I are here to make sure that you put that effort into the right things."

Shinsou stares at him with that wide-eyed look, his own look of bewilderment. His eyes drop to his shoes again, quiet as he thinks about Shouta's words. 

Shouta feels a bit awkward, has always felt awkward when it comes to pep talks. He hopes he got his point across in the right way. Shouta decides it might be best to give Shinsou some space to think and enjoy the rest of his break, so he goes to return to his spot on the wall. He's halfway off the ground when Shinsou looks back up at him, his ears slightly red. 

"Aizawa-sensei. Sharing the weight— I'll try. And thank you for— just, thanks." 

A wave of relief hits Shouta harder than he was expecting, but he shakes it off, "No need for thanks, especially with our next half of training," he smiles slightly, "I suspect you'll be cursing me by the end of it."

Shinsou blinks at him before huffing slightly, shaking his head in amusement as he rises from the ground. "Probably."

Back to business, Shouta leads Shinsou back toward the main domain of Ground Gamma. He reaches a staircase leading up to the roof of a small garage, "Now, its time for some actual movement. Calisthenics is about strength and control, parkour is about honing that strength and control into precise movements." 

They reach the empty roof of the building, only about 9 feet off the ground. This roof leads to another building just across from it, and from there the buildings slowly get taller and have more obstacles built onto them. 

"We'll start with precision jumps. From this platform to that one, I want you practice jumping and landing. Try to focus on landing quietly. Use your legs to absorb the impact."

Shinsou walks toward the edge of the roof, silently assessing the distance with a slight tilt of his head. Then, with a nod to himself, Shinsou leaps to the next platform. His landing is decent, but not quiet. 

"You're still landing too hard," Shouta critiques, walking over to a nearby railing and hopping onto it, balancing easily, "In a real life situation, that heavy impact would slow you down or alert an opponent. Try it again, but this time utilize the same motions of the squat we practiced earlier."

"Okay," Shinsou calls back, stepping back before jumping from roof to roof again. This time he lands lighter on his feet, bending his knees deeper to absorb the impact of the leap. 

"Better. Practice that a few more times. Memorize how it feels to absorb the impact: the way your legs bend, the way you regain balance."

Shinsou nods and does as ordered, leaping back and forth between the platforms a few more times. His landings remain steadily quiet, already a vast improvement. Shouta nods in approval. 

"Now," Shouta drops from his perch on the railing as Shinsou leaps back to the first roof, "When you leap back to the other roof, vault over that low wall and keep going. Don't break your momentum." 

Shouta swings with his scarf alongside Shinsou as he follows the command, watching as he perfectly executes a silent landing before springing up from the squat and running toward the low wall in front of him. He vaults over it cleanly and continues his sprint forward, only to stumble slightly as he approaches a thin rail bridging this roof to the next. 

"You lost your momentum during the vault. The moment you slow down, you lose your advantage. Next time, think less. Let your body react. Again, from the beginning."

With a determined nod, Shinsou leaps back over to the starting roof. He takes a deep breath and then starts again. He nails the leap and vaults over the wall more smoothly, maintaining his speed fluidly as he runs for the railing. His feet lightly tap against the metal railing as he easily strides across. 

"You're getting the hang of it. Good. Now let's add some pressure." Shouta calls after him, returning to the starting platform. He sees Shinsou's head tilt slightly across the short distance, pausing his run.

He can't help the slight smirk that crawls onto his face, "We're going to play tag again. Except this time, I'll be the one chasing you." 

"Oh, this should be great." Shinsou huffs sarcastically, "I definitely stand a chance against Eraserhead. Right."

"You don't, and that is incentive enough." Shouta dips his head slightly, leveling Shinsou with a serious look, "You need to learn how to move under pressure. As you know by now, you lose— in this case, get tagged by me— and you run for the rest of training. Now, are you ready?"

He watches the kid take a deep breath before getting into a ready stance, "Ready." He calls out. 

"Go."

Shinsou darts off instantly at the command, vaulting and leaping like his life depends on it. Shouta gives him a few chivalrous seconds of a head start before silently taking off after him. The movements come naturally to him, even without the use of his capture scarf, and within the span of a few leaps Shouta has already made up the small distance the head start gave Shinsou. 

Shouta holds back a huff of amusement at the sight of Shinsou glancing back and flinching at the sight of Shouta closing in on him. The boy shifts gears, picking up speed and jumping onto another platform. He darts toward the fire escape and begins the climb. His hands white-knuckle the railing as he climbs, but his foot slips out from under him, further ruining his momentum. 

"Damn!" He hears Shinsou curse under his breath, fighting to get his feet under him again. 

Shouta watches boredly from the bottom of the fire escape, watching as Shinsou continues to fail and scramble up the fire escape, "You're slowing down, Shinsou. Keep moving or you're done." He lightly taunts before fluidly climbing up after Shinsou. 

Shinsou grunts in annoyance from above him as he continues his frantic climb, eventually reaching the ledge of the roof and pulling himself up and over. 

Shouta is on the roof seconds after him, just in time to watch Shinsou vault over a wall and recover with a decent roll. As soon as his feet are under him again, Shinsou bolts toward a narrow gap between two walls, recklessly slamming his shoulder against the corner of a wall before continuing. 

"You're getting reckless, stay in control of your body. Stop flinging it around like a ragdoll." Shouta corrects, slipping through the gap easily. 

Shinsou continues on, Shouta following the kid with steady, calculated steps. He never rushes, easily maintaining his place right on Shinsou’s heels. 

Breathing heavily, Shinsou vaults over another railing and turns his head frantically side-to-side as he looks for an escape route. Shouta watches him spot a series of rails and pipes interlaced in the air, making an oddly shaped bridge, and begins jumping from one to the next, his balance shaky but improving.

Shouta casually follows after him, easily leaping across the laced pipes and rails, "Better, but you’re wasting energy. You’re pushing yourself harder than you need to. Stay efficient. Save your energy." He advises, though Shinsou doesn't seem to be listening. 

The kid makes a desperate leap over a wider gap and barely makes it, landing with a heavy thud. Shouta can see the way Shinsou shakes with heavy pants and gasps as he recovers from the jump, seemingly at his limit, and decides to call it. 

He appears behind Shinsou silently. "Too slow,” he says as he taps the kid on the shoulder before he can react. "Tag."

Shinsou groans slightly in response, panting heavily with his hands on his knees, "You’re… too fast…" He mutters, probably to himself, but Shouta responds to the comment anyway. 

"Speed wasn't my only advantage. You grew tired and desperate, which led to you hesitating on your last jump, which in turn led to poor form. But you're improving. Stay dedicated to this training and you will develop the ability to parallel process both your movements and analyze your environment, which will improve your agility and accuracy."

Shinsou nods in understanding as he slowly straightens himself up off his knees, still breathing heavily and wiping sweat from his forehead. 

"Now, the best way to build stamina is to keep going even when you're tired. So get to running." Shouta advises, internally amused by the look of disgust that barely contorts Shinsou's face. But, despite the reaction, Shinsou dutifully darts to his starting line and begins his rounds. 

Training comes to an end with Shinsou, once again, kissing the ground and gasping for air. Shouta helps by tossing over his water bottle so that it is within reach, huffing quietly in amusement as Shinsou scrambles for it. Shouta gives him the time to recover, silently watching the kid's breathing start to even out and lifts himself up from his splayed position on the ground. 

A successful day of training in Shouta’s book.

"Alright kid," He eventually calls out, "Time to head home."

Shinsou slowly but surely peels himself up off the ground, half-heartedly dusting off the dirt on his uniform as he starts walking toward the gate of Ground Gamma. 

They make their way back to the locker rooms, where as usual Shouta waits for Shinsou in the hall as he changes out of his gym uniform before he escorts the kid to the gates of UA.

"Make sure to eat enough when you get home. Don't skip meals after heavy days of training like today. Or for the rest of training, for that matter." He advises seriously, looking Shinsou directly in the eye as he does so. 

The kid bobs his head quickly, scuffing his shoe against the sidewalk, "Got it. See you later, then."

Shouta nods and turns to head back to UA, "Later, kid."

They repeat a similar routine the following day: Shouta asks Shinsou how he's doing, gets a few bored, dismissive responses before the kid finally laments and says, "I'm sore, but I'm sure that doesn't surprise you."

It does not. As a matter of fact, Shouta would be remiss if the kid wasn't feeling the effects of his training. However, when they stretch together today, Shouta makes sure to give a few extra minutes for Shinsou to properly stretch out his sore muscles. 

Once they're done, Shouta rolls up fluidly from the mat, ready to begin. The kid rolls onto his feet after him, though nowhere near as fluidly as Shouta did. Something else they will work on eventually.  

"If we think back to last Wednesday," Shouta begins, pulling his hair back and out of his face into a half-assed bun, "What were some things I told you after our spar?"

His fingers finish twisting the hair tie in his hair as Shinsou's brow pinches slightly in consideration, his eyes drifting down to his feet as he thinks. "You said that the fight wouldn't have lasted more than thirty seconds if you were fighting back." He eventually says, his voice completely neutral as he recounts the words. 

"True," Shouta nods, standing by his words, "What else?"

"That I try to out-smart my opponents rather than fight with sheer strength, but my ideas don't work because I don't have the skill to back it up." He adds with an almost imperceptible sigh, one of his hands fidgeting with the fingers of the other. 

Shouta hums in discontent, "I also said that developing the basics of fighting will lead to leaps in improvement for you. Combat is one of the most important things a hero must learn in order to survive on the job. Learning to protect yourself and to protect others."

The kid bobs his head in agreement, "Right, you did." He trails off, glancing away. Shouta can't help but raise an eyebrow at the obviously bothered response from the kid, but he remains silent, giving Shinsou time to speak his mind. Shinsou must feel the weight of his gaze because he starts fidgeting again. 

"I just." Shinsou cuts himself off, scratching the back of his neck and bowing his head. "I have to start with the basics. Square one. Everyone else is way ahead of me." Shinsou admits quietly. 

"Everyone starts from somewhere," Shouta says, waiting for Shinsou to look at him again before continuing, "So you're aware of the gap between you and the other students, good. Now stop wasting your energy dwelling on it. Today, we start with building your foundation: stances, blocking, strikes, how to move efficiently. Everything else will come later."

Shouta watches as the kid digests his words, sees the way he takes a quiet breath before dropping his shoulders and nodding, "Okay. Let's do this."

Getting back to business, Shouta leads Shinsou over to the middle of the mat, positioning them to stand face to face with about a three foot distance between them. "First is mastering your stance. The way you hold yourself makes the difference between staying on your feet or getting knocked down. The correct stance will give you balance and stability." He shifts his feet to be shoulder-width apart, bending his knees slightly. "Like this. Copy my stance."

Shinsou shifts to mirror his stance. 

"Shift your feet to be wider apart– there," He advises, watching as Shinsou copies the instructions, "Now, bend your knees slightly." 

"Okay," Shinsou bends his knees but he holds himself too stiffly, looking like an odd statue. 

"You're still too stiff, kid" Shouta directs, tapping Shinsou's shoulder lightly, signaling him to relax, "Take a breath. Relax. If you're too tense, you can't react quickly."

The kid takes another deep breath, finally relaxing into the stance, adjusting his balance slightly. His stance looks more natural now, much better than before.  

Shouta nods, "Better. Next is your guard. If nothing else, your guard is your most important foundational skill to learn– if you can't throw a punch then you have to at least know how to protect yourself from one."

Shouta lifts up his own guard, demonstrating proper form, "The goal of a guard is to protect vital parts of your body from getting hit, so your hands should be up close to your face. Your priority should always be to protect your head, especially in close combat. Can’t continue fighting if you’re knocked out. Make sense?"

"Yeah," Shinsou nods, raising his hands up and copying Shouta's guard. Shouta steps in closer, carefully tapping Shinsou's elbows to gently adjust his form. 

"Keep your elbows tucked in like this. If your arms are too wide you'll be leaving your body open. You want your guard to be versatile. Like this, you can easily shift your guard to adapt to where you need to protect yourself from a strike. If I go to punch you in the liver," He goes to poke Shinsou’s liver, but Shinsou shifts to block it before it lands, “Exactly.”

Shinsou tightens his arms into a perfect guard, "Makes sense."

"Good," Shouta nods, stepping back into his original spot and lifting his arms back into guard, "Now, I want you to follow me while maintaining this distance between us."

Shinsou nods his head, his eyes glued to Shouta as he begins to lead the kid backward on the mat, expertly maintaining his balance and guard. After a few steps backward, Shouta pauses and begins pushing forward toward Shinsou, forcing the kid to walk backwards now. The action breaks Shinsou's attention, his eyes flitting between looking at Shouta and the ground. As he does so, his form begins to slip and his guard falls. An opening. 

Within the span of seconds, Shouta closes the distance and firmly taps Shinsou where he left his torso wide open. The action spooks Shinsou, causing him to stumble slightly backward before catching himself. 

"Don't let your guard fall," He advises, easily falling back into position, pausing their little dance, "Elbows in, hands protecting your face. Your eyes should be glued to my chest, watching for my next move." 

Shinsou blinks away his shock quickly before nodding again, his eyes dutifully gluing to Shouta's chest and his guard tightening up again. 

"Now, again." 

They continue this exercise until Shinsou's eyes remain completely focused onto Shouta's chest while maintaining his form and balance. The moment his form slipped and there was an opening to strike, Shouta swiftly takes advantage of it. The kid would grunt in frustration every time, but he quickly fixed his guard. Finally, once the kid could go a few minutes without his eyes straying or his form falling, Shouta let the kid lead him around the mat. 

"Good," Shouta commends, dropping his guard and ending the exercise, "Any skills you learn after this will rely on good form for your guard and stance. If your stance is weak, you'll get knocked down before you can throw a single punch. If your guard is weak, you'll get knocked out before you can even think about throwing a punch. Makes sense?"

Shinsou nods, "Mm. Makes sense."

"Now, onto basic strikes." Shouta stands in front of Shinsou, holding his left hand out with his palm wide open. "Try and punch my hand as hard as you can."

"Um. Okay," Shinsou slowly nods, as if unsure. 

"You won't hurt me, kid. Punch my hand already."

Shinsou's eyes lock onto his offered hand and he swings, hitting Shouta's palm with a loud smack. His palm stings for a second, but it’s hardly painful. 

"Try that again, but this time rotate your hips into the punch. Like this," Shouta turns and demonstrates a strike, his jab fluid and precise. "See how my heel lifts?" He demonstrates again. 

Shinsou tilts his head as he observes the demonstration, his eyes intently watching Shouta's body lean into the punch. "Right. Lemme try."

Shouta returns to his position, hand held out once again. Shinsou's eyes pinch in concentration and he strikes again, his hips finally moving with his fist. Shouta's palm stings a bit more with some pain. Much better. 

"That's more like it. When you punch, it's not just shooting your arm out really fast, it's gathering energy from your body to put power behind your punch. You felt the difference right?"

"Yeah," Shinsou looks down at his right fist, "Felt more solid."

"Exactly. Now, I want you to do it again, but this time visualize not just aiming to strike my palm, but punching through it."

The kid nods determinedly and as soon as Shouta offers his palm out again, he strikes even faster than before. Shouta has to actually catch Shinsou's palm, his body jolting slightly to take the impact. His palm doesn't just sting, it burns from the impact. 

Shouta nods in approval, dropping Shinsou's fist, "Memorize this process, the movement of your body. Now, what should your other hand be doing while you strike?"

Shinsou glances at his left fist falling from it's position in guard and quickly fixes it, "Protect my face."

"Yes. Striking is a calculated risk— going on the offensive temporarily leaves you open for attack. You must be patient in a fight, wait for the right time to attack. Being impatient puts you at risk. Understand?" 

"Right." 

"Now, lets combine all of those steps. After you strike with your right fist, follow up with your left— this is a cross. Same idea as before: start in guard, use your entire body to put power behind your punch, strike through the opponent, return to guard, switch hands, repeat." 

His stinging left palm is offered once again and Shinsou wastes no time attempting a cross. Unfortunately, he goes too fast and completely loses his guard as he switches fists. 

"Again," Shouta commands. When Shinsou switches too fast again, Shouta's right hand darts out and taps Shinsou on the temple within a blink of an eye. Shinsou jolts slightly in shock, tightening his guard on instinct. 

"You need to slow down," Shouta advises, "Rushing is ruining your form. This movement will come more naturally with more practice. Start slow, follow the steps. We'll focus on speed later."

"Right," Shinsou mutters, mostly to himself. He shakes out his fists and practices again against Shouta's palm, his form already much better as he takes his time moving through the steps. 

Shouta lets Shinsou attack his palm until he eventually gets the movements down, his strikes slowly becoming faster and faster with more confidence. 

"Alright," He stops Shinsou, dropping into guard once again, "Adding in footwork. Just like before, only now you'll be striking. Move toward me, strike or cross, then retreat."

Shinsou wastes no time kicking into gear, closing the distance and striking with his right fist. Shouta easily parries the strike and Shinsou returns to his starting position. 

"You're still a bit too tense," He says as he parries another jab from Shinsou, "You're overthinking this. Don't analyze every step, trust the training. Again."

The words cause Shinsou's brow to twitch minutely in annoyance, but the kid easily follows his directions. He steps forward again, this time quicker, and throws not just a jab but a cross at full power before stepping back and returning to guard. 

Shouta parries the jabs easily, a smirk threatening to grow on his face at the sting left behind by the jabs. Shinsou does it again and Shouta parries, then steps in closer to deliver a light tap against Shinsou's open torso again. 

"Watch your guard."

"Right," Shinsou nods, jabbing at him again and retreating, fixing his guard immediately. They continue this routine until Shinsou's jabs begin to grow weaker, his arms starting to tremble slightly from weariness.

"Okay," Shouta calls, catching Shinsou’s jab in his left palm and standing up straight. "Take a break for now. We'll continue to practice this until it becomes second nature to you."

The kid nods, though his brow pinches again in discontent as he looks down at his hands. Shouta can only guess what's going through the kid's mind, but if their rather negative talk from earlier indicates anything, Shouta has a rather good guess. 

"Think back to our initial sparring lesson." He says calmly, snapping Shinsou out of his distracted state. Shinsou tilts his head slightly, giving him a slightly confused look. 

"Remember the punches you threw during my initial sparring challenge? Remember how they lacked power, how you lost balance every time you threw a jab?"

Shinsou's eyes glance away as he thinks about it, but eventually he nods his head. 

"Now think about how it feels to punch now. You're no longer unbalanced, you no longer lack power.” He pauses, “You're doing better than you think." 

Shinsou's eyes widen ever so slightly in surprise as the words seem to land. He stands a bit taller, his pinched brow relaxes slightly, then he looks up at Shouta with a soft gleam in his eye, framed by his usual neutral face. "Right," He says quietly, looking back down at his hands, "Foundations." 

"Foundations," Shouta says in agreement, "Now, I'm not getting into stealth training today. I've shoved enough new skills onto you, so we will end a bit early today." He says, motioning for Shinsou to follow him over to where his things are beside the mat. Shinsou picks up his water bottle and begins sipping from it. 

"These are moves that improve quicker with a lot of practice. If you find yourself with some free time, it wouldn't hurt to practice your form." He shoves his hand into his uniform pocket and pulls out a tennis ball. "Use this to practice crosses. Get into stance and guard, hold the tennis ball out, then drop it and try to catch it with your opposite hand, returning to guard as you switch." He demonstrates the move, easily dropping and catching the ball with alternating hands, before then tossing the ball to Shinsou.

Shinsou catches it easily, placing his water bottle back on the ground before copying Shouta's demonstration, attempting to drop and catch the ball with alternating hands. He gets it his first try but accidentally hits it away the second time. 

"Damn," He mutters as he chases after the ball, picking it up and trying again, only to hit it away again. A huff of amusement greets the inside of his scarf as he watches the pitiful display. 

"As amusing as this cat and mouse demonstration is, it's time for you to head home." Shouta deadpans, shoving his hands into his pockets and casually striding toward the gates of Ground Gamma. 

He hears Shinsou shuffle and quickly collect his things before catching up to him. They walk back to the main building in their typical calm silence, and just as the day before, Shouta escorts Shinsou from the locker room to the gates of UA to see him off. 

"Tomorrow is Quirk training," Shouta says, looking Shinsou carefully in the eye. He watches the kid's face shift slightly, growing a tad bit tenser, "You'll be controlling me this time." He shares, hoping maybe Shinsou will use the information to feel more confident. 

It doesn't quite have the effect he was going for, but Shinsou's tense, half-lidded gaze shifts into something resembling surprise, which is still good in Shouta's book. 

"You want me to Brainwash you tomorrow..." He trails off, a careful lack of inflection in his voice. 

"Lost a bet with Mic," Shouta says, which is not true, but it will hopefully take some pressure off the kid. 

It seems to work as the kid blinks, relaxes, and then knowingly nods in understanding at the explanation, which makes Shouta huff quietly into his scarf again. 

"So," He continues, "Do whatever it takes for you to maximize your energy for tomorrow. Make sure to eat, drink water, try to get more than just a few hours of sleep, if you can," He advises with a knowing eyebrow raise, which Shinsou merely responds to with a shrug. 

"Tell that to my body," The kid sasses lightly before sobering slightly, "But I'll try. To do all of that."

"Good. Now go home." 

Shinsou tosses the tennis ball Shouta gave him in the air once, catching it before nodding in goodbye, "See you tomorrow."

"See you, kid."

He pretends not to see Shinsou drop and then chase after the tennis ball before it rolls into a storm drain as he walks away from UA. 

Shouta shakes his head as he turns away, "This kid."

The next day, Hizashi wakes up in a particularly giddy mood. How does Shouta know this?

Well, the very second his eyes opened this morning, a mug of freshly made coffee was shoved into his face. Then, the millisecond he managed to sit up to take a sip of said coffee, a freshly washed uniform was thrown directly at his face, barely missing the hot mug of coffee still in his hand. 

Somehow, between the sudden onslaught of sustenance and clothing, Shouta managed to make it into the bathroom to get ready. But, the second he stepped foot out of the bathroom, Hizashi was there with a thermos in hand and he eagerly ushered Shouta out the door to UA. 

"Eager for today's training, I see." Shouta comments pointedly, his voice still raspy with sleep. Is that the sun rising beside them? 

Hizashi practically marches toward UA beside him, humming happily under his breath before responding, "YEAH! Can’t wait to start helping the little listener out!” He practically beams, a smile curled wide across his face. However, Shouta catches a distinct gleam in Hizashi’s eyes. 

“Eh,” Shouta blinks at him before glowering at the man suspiciously, “What’s with that face? What are you planning, Zashi?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see, Sho,” He shoots back with an irritatingly sharp smirk, “Why, you curious?” He teases, leaning in close to Shouta’s face.

Shouta pauses, glaring slightly in consideration before finally responding, “Actually, no. I’ve just realized I don’t care.” He says lamely, walking faster toward the doors to UA and idly sipping at his thermos of coffee. 

“What?!” Hizashi squawks loudly behind him before stomping heavily after Shouta’s heels. “C’mon! Not even a little curious, Shouta? You have no guesses at all?” 

“None.”

“Always such a spoilsport,” Hizashi grumbles beside him, hunching over dramatically with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his leather pants and stomping away like a toddler. A grown man, having a tantrum. 

“Always so dramatic.” Shouta comments back easily. 

“Bastard.”

“Loud mouth.”

Their mornings continue business as usual from there, with Hizashi especially bouncy today at his desk. Nothing Shouta isn't used to after over a decade of being with the man. 

Morning classes pass by easily and with little issue before it's finally time for lunch. The hallway vending machines are calling his name like the vicious hypnos-sirens that they are– and who is he to deny their call?

With his sleeping bag tucked under his arm, Shouta makes his way to his favorite hallway in the school, languidly sipping at his pocket jelly packet as he goes. Just as he finishes the jelly packet and rounds a corner, his tired eyes immediately spot a far-too-revealing hero uniform and a head of long navy hair. Instinctively Shouta retreats back behind the wall, hoping against hope that the local she-devil didn't spot him. 

Shouta has been quite successful in avoiding Kayama ever since he's taken Shinsou under his mentorship. He isn’t currently aware if Hizashi has told Kayama yet about his rather unusual decision– though knowing the blabbermouth, he totally has. 

Seeing as Shouta is in the mood for a nap and not being teased relentlessly and loudly for his supposed "soft heart for his children', Shouta exercises his best stealth skills and quickly continues down another hall. He has an image to maintain, after all. There’s no loud call after him as he makes his escape: mission accomplished. 

The next best route is the long way around to the vending machines, requiring him to pass by the cafeteria as he goes. It means that the odds of him having to socialize increases significantly, but it's a fair price to pay if it means he can escape Kayama’s clutches. As he expected, a few of his students wave at him as they pass in the hall, to which he merely nods back in acknowledgment. As he passes the long hallway leading to the cafeteria doors, he spots a familiar head of purple hair standing along the wall. 

His stride rolls to a stop at the sight of Shinsou leaning against the hallway wall, mindlessly scrolling through his phone. Every few seconds his eyes will jump up and scan the groups of students making their way to the cafeteria, before looking back down at his phone.  

“Waiting for someone?” Shouta guesses, settling in to see what Shinsou is up to. 

Students continue to file down the hallway, each wave growing bigger in size as the passing period for lunch slowly windles down. Shinsou doesn’t move the entire time, seemingly uninterested in going into the cafeteria himself. Then, as a group of 1-B students heads down the hall, Shouta watches as Shinsou’s eyes lock onto them and how he straightens his back before looking back down at his phone. However, his thumb doesn’t scroll as it was doing before, neither do his eyes shift as if reading something. 

“Did you guys get to the chapter about crime scene investigations yet?” Awase Yosetsu says, adjusting his headband on his head, “Forensic investigation seems pretty interesting, don’t you think?” 

“Yeah, I didn’t know that detectives couldn’t touch the bodies at the crime scene. I guess it makes sense though, now that I think about it. Let chances of contaminating the crime scene or destroying evidence. Man, T.V. shows are so misleading.” Tokage Setsuna replies, bringing a hand to her chin in thought. 

“I didn’t know that heroes could consult on criminal investigations– like work beside detectives and stuff.” Kaibara Sen adds. 

“They can? I didn’t know that. I guess I just thought that police and heroes are separate entities. Like heroes bring in villains and the police process them. Never thought their work could overlap like that.” Awase says, his tone considering. 

Tokage nods her head, “It’s in chapter 5 of our textbook– it goes over the steps of criminal investigation from a law enforcement point of view, and it also goes over who has jurisdiction of what at a crime scene.” 

“We’ll need to know the steps for the quiz next week, alongside what type of evidence can or can’t be admissible in court.” Kaibara adds. 

“Well, I know what I’ll be studying later. At least it’s interesting.” Awase says, and the other two nod in agreement as the trio finally make their way into the cafeteria. 

Shinsou watches them walk into the cafeteria before his eyes rescan the now much emptier hallway. At the sight of no one else but him being there, Shinsou pushes himself off the wall, shoves his phone into his pocket, and starts walking away from the cafeteria. 

Shouta quickly moves out of view from Shinsou, hiding behind a corner as he watches the kid head down the hall toward the library. 

“Not eating lunch? I told him to make sure he eats today.” Shouta hums disapprovingly to himself. 

Advice from the day promptly ignored, Shinsou dutifully makes his way into the school library, nodding respectfully to the librarian before quickly making his way down the middle of the rows of shelves. Shouta follows leisurely after him, also nodding to Yougaku-san as he enters. She raises an eyebrow at him, a silent question, though one he doesn’t deign with an answer. 

Shouta follows Shinsou all the way to the back of the library until they seem to get to Shinsou’s final destination: a small wooden desk in the furthest corner of the library. It sits isolated from the other groups of tables and desks, parallel to a large window peering out over the front of UA. 

The kid wastes no time dropping into the chair and pulling out the aforementioned criminal justice book. Shinsou peels the book open, pinching the pages to flip to, presumably, the fifth chapter. 

“This doesn’t look like eating lunch.” Shouta says lamely, leaning his shoulder tiredly against a bookshelf to his right. 

Shinsou, of course, freezes in his seat at the sudden voice, causing the pages pinched in his grasp to drop and collapse onto a random page. His head flings around to look at Shouta, his usual half-lidded glare now replaced with a wide-eyed look. 

They simply stare at each other: Shouta unimpressed and Shinsou working through his shock. 

“You’re… here.” The boy eventually says. 

“Astute observation, Shinsou.”

Shinsou glares at him, “You know, I was joking about this whole–” he points between Shouta, the surrounding shelves, and his desk, “following me thing being a hobby of yours, but I’m really starting to think I was actually right about that.”

“You’re not eating lunch.” Shouta lamely says, ignoring the comment. 

“Astute observation, Aizawa-sensei.”

“Well played.” Shouta internally praises, tilting his head in amusement. 

Shouta walks over to a nearby table and grabs a chair, dragging it over to sit in front of Shinsou’s desk. He plops down, settling an ankle across his knee and dropping his sleeping bag on the ground beside him. Shinsou blinks a few times at him before shaking his head and refocusing on his mission of flipping to the correct chapter. 

“When I first asked about you having this textbook, I believe your answer was that my students complained too loudly about their homework.” Shouta begins dryly, watching Shinsou finally land on chapter 5, Crime Scene Investigations. 

Shinsou nods, not looking up, “They do.”

“So what you really meant was that you wait outside the cafeteria for my and Vlad’s students to talk and whine about their classes so you can deduce what they’re learning, then teach it to yourself?” 

Shinsou’s ears go bright red as Shouta speaks, though his expression remains unbothered. By the time Shouta has finished his question, Shinsou is staring determinedly down at the introduction to the chapter, but his eyes aren’t moving from the first word on the page.  

“Something like that.” The kid grumbles, fidgeting with a mechanical pencil in his hand as his eyes begin to skim the text. Shouta can’t imagine he’s actually retaining any information, if not just having an excuse to avoid looking at him. 

“Creative method.” He says lamely, prodding. 

The kid scoffs quietly, “It’s better than sitting around and doing nothing at all.” he retorts defensively, finally looking back up at Shouta with a glare, daring Shouta to tease him for it. Good, there’s that spark Shouta’s looking for.

“I agree,” He replies calmly, “and I meant what I said, it’s creative. There are sources of information everywhere for those with ears to hear it.”

“Mm,” Shinsou hums, his shoulders dropping slightly from their defensive positions under his ears. “Well, like I said, your students don’t seem to know when to shut up. And sometimes, that just so happens to benefit me.” 

“I agree, they never do know when to shut up,” Shouta grumbles, which earns him a soft huff from Shinsou. “So, do you have any questions from what you’ve read so far?”

Shinsou blinks at him, “Oh, uh.” He flips through the pages of the previous chapters, many marked by odd pieces of ripped notebook paper. Shinsou flips through the textbook and eventually lands on a page that has a folded piece of paper inside, which he slides over to Shouta. 

Unfolding the piece of notebook paper, Shouta unravels a page that seems to be a log of annotations. The paper is divided into multiple sections, first listing the chapter and then further subdivided into page numbers from each chapter, and beside those are questions. Shinsou’s handwriting is a little messy but easy to read. 

His eyes scan the page, reading every question Shinsou has listed. Some questions are about historical context, others are more hypothetical questions, and some are inquiries for further clarification. All great questions, though Shouta wonders how Shinsou was planning on getting his answers to them. 

As if reading his mind, Shinsou comments, “I was planning on looking up the answers online… at some point.”

Shouta nods slightly before considering the questions once again, “Well, let’s start from the beginning. You asked ‘How long ago did society start policing Quirk usage?’ and also, ‘When did heroes become legal?’ To the first: pretty much as soon as Quirks started appearing. Once Quirks were being used to commit crimes and putting Quirkless people– who were the majority at the time– at risk, the Police Force worked to try and police Quirks as best they could. However, they did so by putting their efforts into better leadership and without using Quirks against criminals abusing their Quirks.”

Shinsou hums, sitting back slightly in his chair as his face pinches in consideration, “They didn’t want to fight fire with fire.”

“Yes. At the time, Quirks, or ‘Meta-powers’ as they were called, were new. The police at the time found it was too dangerous to use Quirks as they could easily kill someone if used incorrectly.”

Shinsou shakes his head slightly, “But the same thing could be said now about our current state of society.”

“True, but the difference is that society now has a much higher population of Quirk users compared to the initial generation that experienced the Meta-power phenomenon. At the time Quirks were new, they hadn’t been studied and analyzed as they have now.” He pauses, leaning back as he crosses his arms comfortably over his chest. Shinsou nods quietly in understanding, which Shouta takes as his cue to continue,  “This leads me to your second question, when did heroes become legal? As I mentioned, the police initially didn’t use Quirks to fight against Quirk-related crime, and a lot of people disagreed with that sentiment, so much so that they took matters into their own hands.”

Shinsou leans back in toward Shouta as he talks, drawn in by his every word. 

“Ordinary civilians then decided to bring order to society and fight crime themselves with their Quirks, and thus the first "Heroes" appeared, so to speak.” Shouta tilts his head, “Though nowadays they would be, by definition, vigilantes, given they were acting illegally. Over time, these vigilantes would become a separate entity from the police and the military. The first official legalization of Pro-Heroes occurred in Rhode Island in the US about 100 years ago, and soon other countries followed suit, Japan, obviously, being one of them.” 

“Huh,” Shinsou huffs quietly, his eyes glancing out the window to his right with a pinched brow. Eventually he looks back at Shouta, his hand on the back of his neck, “So, when did schools like UA become a thing? Why not– I dunno, make it secondary school, like a police academy?”

Shouta carefully refrains from acknowledging Shinsou’s use of direct questions without prompting, and takes a moment to compile a response. “We’ve acknowledged a few facts about how society looked about 100 years ago to now, what were they?” 

“Uh,” Shinsou pauses, considering, “Quirks, er, Meta-powers, were new, and therefore under-researched and deemed too dangerous to use against criminals by the justice system.”

“And?”

“Those who disagreed with that prohibition took matters into their own hands by using their Quirks to stop others from abusing their own.” 

“Correct. Now, what is something inherent to Quirks that is true for everyone that has one?”

Shinsou squints at him slightly, “You’re… born with it?” He trails off, as if unsure of his answer. 

Shouta tilts his head slightly side to side, “Okay, you’re born with your Quirk, yes, but when your Quirk manifests, what does it do as you grow up?

Shinsou looks off into the distance again, thinking hard, before quickly turning back to look at Shouta, “It gets stronger.”

“Correct. Initially there were institutions that were similar to police academies, secondary schools as you said, but they had very few “graduates”. Only a few were capable of passing the hero-licensing exam at the time, and when studies were conducted to find out why, they found that those who passed had been training their Quirks sooner than their peers. So, it became widely known that the younger the Quirk training starts, the better the control and strength of a Quirk’s ability. However, there must be protections in place for children, so the youngest a child can legally start official training is during high school. And thus, schools like UA were built to train future heroes.”

Shinsou’s face pinches slightly as Shouta finishes talking, his eyes dropping to glare at the desk in front of him. Silence falls between them and Shouta decides to sit in it, waiting patiently for Shinsou to respond. 

After a moment, Shinsou shakes his head slightly and sighs, looking back up at Shouta. He freezes slightly when he sees Shouta watching him, “Um.”

Shouta tilts his head slightly. “Something I said didn’t sit well with you.” He gently prods, his voice carefully level, his usual lameness removed. 

“It’s nothing,” Shinsou immediately denies, which Shouta was expecting.

“Disagree with something?” Shouta guesses, leaning back once again to keep the conversation casual. 

“No.” 

“Hm.” Shouta simply replies, letting the silence swell again. 

Shinsou shuffles uncomfortably, his fingers roughly rubbing at his eyes before dropping heavily to his lap, “I hardly ever used my Quirk growing up. It’s– it’s one thing to wait to train it, but I never used it besid–” He cuts himself off, shaking his head again, “It just reminded me of how behind I am. And I know– dwelling on it, not productive and it’s a waste of time, I just can’t help it. I feel like I’m reminded of it all the time.”

Shouta studies Shinsou quietly for a moment, crossing his arms as he weighs his words. Shinsou looks wilted in place across from him, that spark from earlier efficiently dimmed. 

“Look, Shinsou,” He begins, voice calm but direct, “Being behind is not what matters right now. What does matter is the fact that you are doing something about it. So you didn’t get the practice others did– fine. That just means that in the meantime, while you do the work to catch up, you work smarter. Focus on you, not them.” He reiterates, just as he did yesterday. 

He pauses, then softens, keeping his gaze steady with Shinsou, “Kid. Today, tomorrow, every day of training to follow, it’s about you. Your effort. Your progress. No one else’s. I want you to do your best to try and remind yourself of that. Clear?”

Shinsou stares at him silently, his eyes passing between Shouta’s own, before swallowing and nodding his head in agreement. “Clear.”

“Good,” Shouta leans back, “Now, we still have time to hit the cafeteria and get you something to eat. I seem to remember telling you to keep yourself fed yesterday, but maybe I imagined that.” He pointedly says, standing up from his chair and lifting it up to move it back to its original spot.

“Oh, I’m okay, though.” Shinsou says quickly, unmoving from his chair. Shouta turns to look over his shoulder, raising an unamused eyebrow. 

“I could get something from the vending machines… though?” Shinsou suggests, his hands working quickly to shuffle his school stuff back into his bag. 

A vending machine snack is not what Shouta was intending by lunch, but with Shinsou’s continued streak of stubbornness, he supposes that he’ll have to compromise unless he wants to literally drag the kid to the cafeteria, which he does not feel like doing. For now. 

“Fine,” Shouta acquiesces, bending to pick up his sleeping bag, “I was heading there anyway.”

Once Shinsou finishes quickly packing his things and throwing his book bag over his shoulder, Shouta leads their way over to the hall of vending machines. Once they reach the beautifully dark, lightly humming hallway, Shouta wastes no time vaulting up the wall to get on top of the vending machines. He unfurls his sleeping bag and climbs inside within milliseconds, tucked in and ready for his lunchtime nap. 

He can feel Shinsou’s eyes watching him, probably with that judgmental teenage-glower that he sports, but he doesn’t care. He rolls around to face Shinsou and catches him patting his pockets, looking for some money. 

“Don’t bother. Just kick it again.” 

“But,” Shinsou scratches the back of his neck, “Isn’t that stealing?” 

Shouta huffs into his sleeping bag, “Nezu keeps these vending machines in the school as a favor to me. He keeps them stocked just for looks. Pretty sure you’re one of the few students at UA that even knows about them. Don’t worry about it.” 

“Oh,” Shinsou says, surprised, “That… makes sense. I think.” 

Shouta doesn’t have the energy to respond, so he just buries himself into the depths of his sleeping bag. He’s unbothered by the violent shaking of Shinsou kicking the vending machine beneath his legs, and is slowly drifting off to sleep to the sound of snack bags rustling below him. 

He’s seconds from sleep when he hears a quiet, “Thanks, Aizawa-sensei.”