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Shouta sighed wearily as he stared at yet another complaint levied against one of his students. Mineta had promise as a hero, or he wouldn’t be in Aizawa’s class. He followed directions, maintained his grades, hadn’t blown up or seriously injured another student, hadn’t turned vigilante and gone after a serial killer on his first internship….
But he had other…habits…that were making him a thorn in Shouta’s side.
He added the complaint to the (rather thick) file and jotted a reminder down in his planner to meet with the kid after class tomorrow. This was yet another mark in Mineta’s file, and if things kept going this way he’d be expelled before the year ended and his future would be out of Shouta’s hands.
Logically, it would be more effective to call a formal parent-teacher meeting with the kid’s father, but…well...Mamoru Mineta was exactly the kind of man who’d create a son like the so-called Fresh-Picked Hero. When Shouta had met with him about the dorms being built, the man had made sleazy comments about his son’s female classmates, along with several thinly-veiled insinuations about the reasons a man like Shouta might choose to share living space with teenage girls.
Men like Mamoru Mineta were why the number of female heroes was so low. Shouta’s hell class was no exception, with only six girls in a class of twenty.
His meeting with Mineta’s father had been one of the worst of a series of awkward meetings with his students’ parents. From Bakugou’s mother openly striking him in front of pro heroes, to Kaminari’s refusing to acknowledge him as their son, to Endeavor taking over the entire conversation with an unreasonable list of demands for Todoroki’s living space and training schedule…Mamoru Mineta still brought a shudder down Shouta’s spine.
No, this conversation would go better if it was just between Shouta and his student.
...
“Kaminari!” Mineta wailed, throwing himself down on the rug in Denki’s room. “What am I supposed to do?”
Denki spun his chair around, sticking out his feet to catch himself on the side of the desk as he faced his friend. “About what?”
Mineta whimpered. “It’s Mr. Aizawa…he says all the girls have been complaining about me?”
“Well…yeah?” Denki shrugged. “Geez, Mineta, you interrupted my homework for this?”
“You knew about this?”
Denki snorted at the bewildered expression on Mineta’s face. “Dude, everyone knows about this. They’ve told you it bothers them…I’ve told you it bothers them…Bakugou threatened to blow you up if you didn’t knock it off….”
“But they’re girls!” Mineta protested. “They like that kind of stuff!”
He flinched. “That’s…that’s gross, Mineta.”
The short boy stared up at him. “Oh, come on, Kaminari, you know it’s true! Girls like to be told they’re beautiful. They like it when you say nice things and compliment their bodies and want to touch them. They’re just playing hard to get.”
“Okay, I think I just threw up a little,” Denki said with a shudder. “That’s…dude, where did you hear that?”
Mineta scoffed. “Everybody knows that.”
Denki spun his chair again, fingers steepled in front of his mouth in thought. “Look, Mineta, it’s just…it’s not like that, okay? Telling a girl she looks good or whatever is one thing, right? But just…I think you just take it too far, you know?”
“I do not! My dad says that stuff all the time, and you should see the kinds of ladies he brings home.”
“Yeah, well, your dad’s a creep,” Denki muttered. He’d briefly met the man once, at the sports festival, and he’d spent so much time leering at the first-year girls that Denki had almost short-circuited himself just to cause a distraction.
“Not you, too!” Mineta wailed, flopping back onto the rug. “What does everyone have against my old man? Aizawa said the same thing.”
He spun his chair in a slow circle as he tried to line his thoughts up. “Is your dad a hero, Mineta?”
Mineta snorted. “Of course not. His Quirk’s not nearly as good as mine.”
“But Mr. Aizawa is, right?”
“Well, duh.”
“So, who would you rather ask about hero stuff?”
“Mr. Aizawa, of course.”
“What about special moves?”
“Mr. Aizawa—All Might or Ectoplasm, too, I guess.”
“Who trained us for the provisional license exams?”
“You know who that—”
“Who saved us at USJ? And the training camp?”
“Kaminari—”
“And makes sure the dorm doesn’t run out of food? And checks the common room every night in case someone can’t sleep? And stays behind on free weekends for anyone who can’t go home?”
Mineta was staring at him now, but it seemed like Denki’s words were finally getting through. “So…what are you saying?”
“Do you trust Mr. Aizawa?”
“Of course.”
“Then maybe trust him now?”
…
(1: Mina Ashido)
It’s easy. The next time you want to compliment one of the girls, just stop for a second. Instead of talking about their body or whatever, look for something else about them. Maybe their outfit, or their hair or jewelry or something. Sometimes girls put a lot of effort into looking good, and they like it when you acknowledge that instead of just telling them they’re hot, you know?
Minoru was still puzzling over Kaminari’s words as he settled onto one of the sofas in the common room. He could totally see his friend’s point…and maybe his dad wasn’t exactly the best role model when it came to being a man (and was probably the reason he hadn’t really talked to his mom in five years), but it wasn’t like it was that simple!
He liked girls. They were pretty and soft and so expressive. Their bodies were nice to look at, and their skin was so soft, and they always smelled so good….
But. Like Kaminari said, if he trusted Mr. Aizawa in pretty much every other aspect of his life, maybe he could trust him in this one. And if Mr. Aizawa said the way he treated the girls was a problem, then maybe…maybe…it was a problem.
He was still thinking about it when Ashido bounced down the stairs in an oversized sweater and leggings. The leggings clung to the curves of her shapely legs, and the sweater was just loose enough to make his imagination run wild. He opened his mouth, thinking about telling her just that, but Kaminari’s words echoed back to him.
Sometimes girls put a lot of effort into looking good, and they like when you acknowledge that instead of just telling them they’re hot.
He paused, brain whirring.
Of all the girls, Ashido was the one who tolerated him the most. She’d choreographed a harem sequence for their festival performance, just to tempt him to join in. She played off all his comments and included him in conversations when he was around. If he made a lewd comment about her body right now, she’d probably just smack him on the head and call him gross, but she’d laugh it off.
Still….
“Is that a new sweater?” he blurted out when she stopped to show Kirishima something on her phone.
“Huh?” Ashido looked up at him, then grinned and spun in place. “Yeah, it is! My mom sent it over…what do you think?”
It was pale yellow, with an interesting pattern that reminded him of climbing vines. He admired the way her body moved but fought to pull himself back out of his usual method of thinking. “Looks good! That’s a really good color on you!”
“Aww, thanks!” Ashido patted his head as she passed on her way out the door. “If Momo comes back before curfew, tell her we’re at the library, okay?”
“Sure thing!” He gave her a thumbs up as she darted away.
He felt…kind of good. Ashido had clearly been happy with the compliment, and she hadn’t smacked him or called him gross.
Maybe this could work after all.
…
(2: Tsuyu Asui)
If someone buys something for you, you can just say thank you. Or you can…I don’t know…talk about the thing they gave you. Ask how they found it. Don’t offer a massage in return or something…maybe think about what you can get for them next time.
Tsu had brought everyone souvenirs from her trip to the beach with her family. She’d passed them out individually—a beautiful seashell and a little bag of sweets for each of them.
Minoru stared down at his, his heart overflowing at his classmate’s kind gesture. And, sure, Tsu had brought one for each of them…but he’d been included in that and that had to mean something. She was so kind, and had such an amazing body even if she didn’t show it off, and—
Wait, no, he wasn’t supposed to be thinking like that. Right. Kaminari had talked about this.
Besides, his ear still hurt after Uraraka had twisted it when he’d tried to give her a backrub after they worked on a project together.
“This shell’s really cool, Tsu,” he piped up, during a lull in conversation. It was cool…like a small conch shell, all swirled in pale yellow with a few faint lines of orange. It had gotten broken at some point, but someone had glued it back together and the thin cracks glittered with a hint of gold “Did you pick all these up yourself?”
Tsu was surprised by the question, but she smiled at him when she answered. “Actually no, ribbit. We spent a day volunteering at a wildlife rehab center. They fix up broken shells like these and sell them to raise money for the center, and we each got to pick out some shells to take home.”
“I didn’t know you did that!” Uraraka exclaimed. She had her own shell—pink with scalloped edges, a shiny rhinestone filling in a missing part of the shell—resting in one hand. “That’s amazing.”
“You would have loved it, Ochako,” Tsu replied. She was mostly facing her friend now, as she launched into a story about the day her family had spent at the wildlife center.
By the end of it, the girls were all excitedly planning their own trip to volunteer at the wildlife center—and more than a few boys were being dragged into it.
Minoru found a special spot on his shelf for the shell Tsu had given him. Someplace where he could see it every day.
He was going to visit his aunt in a few weeks…maybe he could find some souvenirs for his class while he was there.
…
(3: Ochako Uraraka)
And, like, I dunno…just help them, you know? Like, sometimes if you see someone struggling, just lend a hand. Don’t try to ask for something in return, and especially don’t act like they owe you something. Just…just be cool about it, right?
Uraraka was walking a few feet in front of him, her lunch tray heavy in her hands, when it happened. She stumbled, managing to keep the tray upright, but dropped her wallet and scattered coins across the ground.
“Oh, man,” she grumbled.
“Excuse me,” Minoru announced, nudging her hip with his shoulder. “Just step aside for a moment.”
She took a step back, though he didn’t miss the way her brow furrowed when she realized it was him.
That didn’t matter. He could do this.
Her legs were so close and he was on his hands and knees collecting her loose coins. Just a little to the left and he could catch a whiff of her scent, maybe press his cheek against those heavenly stockings—
No. Not that. He was trying so hard. Uraraka was one of the ones who tolerated him the least, and if he could restrain himself around her then maybe she’d put in a good word with the other girls.
Maybe they’d see he was trying to change.
Minoru studiously kept his back to her, avoiding the temptation of her shapely calves and the flutter of her pleated skirt, and neatly packed the loose coins back into her wallet. He stood, brushed off his knees, and presented the wallet with a flourish.
“You dropped this, milady,” he announced, holding it out and bowing his head. She still rolled her eyes, but she took the wallet from his hand rather than snatching it away.
“Thanks, Mineta,” Uraraka said. It almost sounded like she meant it, and he grinned up at her.
“Can I help you carry something?”
“Oh, uh, no thank you.” She took a step back, lips thin.
“No problem.” He smiled again, but she didn’t seem reassured. “Hey, uh…let me know if I didn’t get all the coins? I can, um…look again?”
Uraraka’s shoulders relaxed a little. “It’s okay. Not like there was much in there to begin with.”
“Yeah, I don’t keep a lot with me either.”
And…this was awkward now.
“Well,” he hedged. “Have a good lunch!”
At least she looked a little more relaxed now, though she was still staring at him like he was some new creature. “Mineta, we’re all eating at the same tables, like usual.”
“Oh yeah!” he brightened up a little. He almost suggested she go before him…there were things to be said about being his height and walking behind a girl…but remembered his resolution to be better just in time. “I’ll lead the way!”
He didn’t notice the weird looks she was sending him as they made their way to their lunch tables. Or the way the girls gathered in a cluster to whisper, shooting glances at him every now and then.
…
(4: Momo Yaoyorozu)
Also think about complimenting what they do, not just what they look like. Take Yaoyorozu…I got paired up with her for a class one time and she had this really good plan on how we could win. And when I told her how good it was—she gets this really faint blush, really high in her cheeks, when she’s really happy, you know? And like…if saying something nice about what someone does can make them that happy, then isn’t that better than just talking about what they look like?
Minoru yelped and dove for cover as the ground in front of him exploded. “Oh, come on! This isn’t fair!”
Why did he get stuck doing this training exercise against Bakugou? Wouldn’t someone else have been a better match? Midoriya or Todoroki or Kirishima or—
More explosions. He tore balls free from his head and flung them wildly, any hint of a plan disappearing in his panic.
He should have been paired with Kaminari. Or Seto. Or Midoriya. Or Iida. Or—
Someone snagged the back of his costume and yanked him off his feet. He yelped, waving his arms and legs to fight them off, only to find himself tucked under the shapely arm—and against the even shapelier boob—of Yaoyorozu.
“Ojiro’s distracting them,” she panted as she sprinted, still holding him close. “We’ve got to get clear—I’ve got a plan, but we need some time.”
“Take all the time you need,” he replied. She smelled so good, even after running around the training ground for this long. He felt her sigh, and that snapped him back into focus. He flailed around with one hand until he caught hold of her belt, then the other until he grabbed one of the straps of her costume, trying to stabilize himself without squishing his face further into her boob—no matter how heavenly it was. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. Her tone was as polite and friendly as ever, but there was a stiffness in her body language now.
Once they’d gotten some distance from Bakugou’s explosions, she ducked behind a bush and dropped into a crouch, and he let himself fall away from her body the moment they stopped moving. “You said you have a plan?”
Yaoyorozu was blushing. He was pretty sure this wasn’t the one Kaminari had been talking about. She wasn’t looking him in the eye as she started drawing something in the dirt. “If we stick something to one of your balls, will it still stick to something else?”
“Definitely.” Minoru realized she was drawing an outline of the training field. “They’ll stick to anything but me, you know.”
“That’s what I’m counting on,” she admitted. “You know how loud sounds can incapacitate people?”
He nodded. Present Mic’s Quirk worked a little bit like that, and Jirou had been experimenting with causing bio-feedback that could knock someone out.
“I’ve been helping Kyouka research those kinds of sounds,” she explained. “I think I can make some transmitters. Your balls aren’t affected by the environment, right?”
As she spoke, a sharp spike of ice split the sky near the other side of the training field.
Bakugou and Todoroki were teamed up against them.
This training exercise was so unfair.
“Nothing makes ‘em unstick except time,” he announced proudly.
“Good,” Yaoyorozu nodded. “I’ll make the transmitters.” She reached for the front of her costume, but hesitated.
He was right there. So close. She’d use her Quirk in a minute, and he’d have a glimpse of that soft flesh that her costume barely hid.
But he turned away.
Why was doing the right thing so hard?
Yaoyorozu gave a tiny sigh of relief, and he listened to her materialize the transmitters while he kept his eyes out on their surroundings.
“Okay, all done,” she announced. He turned back around and started tugging balls free to stick to her transmitters. “It’s a long shot, but this is the only plan I could think of.”
“It’s amazing!” he said, brushing her hand as he reached for one of the transmitters. He was wearing gloves so there was no bare skin contact, but still…the touch was there.
He was never washing that glove again.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
Minoru gathered up the balls in the crook of his arm, each one armed with a little blinking transmitter. “We’re gonna win this!”
They did not.
It was a valiant effort, but Hagakure found them long before they could really put the plan into motion. And so, team Mineta-Ojiro-Yaoyorozu lost to team Bakugou-Hagakure-Todoroki.
Mr. Aizawa spoke to them in his usual monotone, pointing out their strengths and weaknesses in the match, telling them to each write a one-page essay about the exercise today. To critique their own actions.
(Minoru was sure he hadn’t done anything wrong, so it would be an easy essay to write.)
Speaking of critiques…
“Yaoyorozu!” he waved the tall girl down, smiling up at her. She folded her arms and looked down at him, shoulders slumped in exhaustion and defeat.
“Yeah?”
“We’ll get ‘em next time!”
She blinked, taken aback. “We’ll…what?”
“Your plan was super, we just had an unfair match-up,” he explained. “Bakugou and Todoroki are just too strong; they shouldn’t be allowed on the same team like that. Your idea was awesome, and I think it would’ve worked out against anyone else.”
“Oh.” There was a hint of a blush, high in her cheeks. It wasn’t the bright color he’d seen out on the training field when she’d been embarrassed. This was soft and pale, and Yaoyorozu’s entire face seemed to shine as she gave him a genuine smile. “Thanks, Mineta. I appreciate that. And you’re right—we’ll get them next time.”
“Yeah!” He held his hand up, and after a moment’s hesitation she gave him a high-five.
Oh yeah. He was definitely never washing this glove ever again.
…
(5: Kyouka Jirou)
I mean, really, just treat them like you do your other friends. Girls are just like us, you know? Maybe they’re into some different stuff sometimes, but we’re all in the same classes. It doesn’t matter if it’s you or me or Ashido; we’ll all be crying over the same quadratic formulas once Mr. Ectoplasm hands out his next study sheet.
Minoru walked into the common room with a spring in his step. This week had gone even better than he’d hoped. He’d been sitting near the girls outside when Hagakure had brought out a box from a cake shop in town, and she’d offered him one without him even asking. The girls had all been sitting in the afternoon sunlight all pretty and sparkling, and because he was keeping his thoughts to himself, he’d been able to sit near them for almost an hour.
Ashido had asked for his help with an English assignment, and he hadn’t asked her for anything back, and she’d actually given him a hug when her homework was finished.
He hadn’t gone on a vacation yet, but he’d gone home to eat dinner with his dad. There was a mochi store between his house and the train station, and he’d stopped to buy some to share with his class.
It had been nice to have everyone thank him like that, especially Uraraka. Like he was a big shot, like he’d done something really cool. Maybe he needed to do stuff like that more often, if it meant his class was going to treat him like that. Even the boys had been thanking him—he still liked girls, obviously, and his shoulders still stung from Kirishima’s “manly” back slap, but it had been a rush.
(Eating dinner with his dad had been eye-opening. After spending so much time trying to correct his behavior around his female classmates, seeing the man who raised him treating his current girlfriend so badly had been alarming. Was Minoru going to grow up and be that way? Was he going to be the kind of man who insulted a woman to keep her around?)
(That wasn’t going to happen. Not anymore.)
(He needed to call his mom.)
He found Kaminari and Jirou huddled together at the end of one of the tables, papers and books spread out between them. Kaminari’s head was in his hands and Jirou was absently patting his back as she frowned down at the papers in front of her.
Man, Kaminari had it so easy. He had good looks, and he made friends so easily that everyone overlooked it when he said something cringy. He’d been sick last weekend, and Ashido and Jirou had been all over him—bringing him heating pads and chocolate and iced coffee from Ashido’s hidden stash. Jirou had let him fall asleep on her shoulder when they were watching a movie. Ashido had rubbed his back when he curled up on one end of the couch like he felt too sick to even move.
“What’s going on, you guys?” Minoru asked, leaning on the table at Kaminari’s side to look over the papers spread out between them. “Doing math homework?”
Kaminari groaned. “Go away.” He obviously didn’t mean it, as he folded his arms on the tabletop and leaned down to rest his chin on them. “We’ve got another test next week.”
“Uh-huh.” Minoru slid one of the papers out from Kaminari’s arm and studied it. “I thought Yaoyorozu helped you with quadratic equations?”
Jirou let out a loud sigh and Kaminari buried his face in his arms. “She tried,” Jirou admitted. “But these are more complicated, and I keep getting lost. I’m okay on the basic ones, but when he starts putting numbers in front of the X-squared…or we have to find the square root or whatever….” Her voice faded away as she shuddered.
“Oh, I can help you with that,” he offered cheerfully, climbing up on the chair next to Kaminari (Jirou might tell him to buzz off if he sat next to her, so this was safer). “Here, show me one you’re having trouble with.”
“Yaoyorozu’s the top in our class,” Kaminari said, his voice muffled since he didn’t lift his head. “If she couldn’t get this through our heads, what good are you?”
“Hey, I may be fifth in class overall, but I’ll have you know I’m actually second in math,” he bragged. “Come on, what could it hurt?”
They didn’t answer, but Jirou passed him one of their worksheets. He nudged Kaminari’s arm out of the way until he could grab a clean sheet of paper and a pen. “Okay! Let’s start with the top one,” he announced, writing out the equation across the top of the paper. “2(x 3)^2 – 14 = 0. So, according to the book, we add fourteen to each side, right? Well, forget that, that’s too many words. When you do stuff like this, numbers can switch back and forth across the equal sign, as long as they change from plus to minus, see? So we can change this to 2(x 3)^2 = 14.”
“So… x 3 is seven?” Kaminari guessed.
“x 3 is the square root of seven,” Minoru corrected, tapping the notation on the original equation. “Mr. Ectoplasm might be okay with just that as an answer, but I like to try to find it myself just to be precise.”
The other two were staring at him, so he cleared his throat and reached for the next problem. “Anyway, let’s use that same logic for this next one. Ooh, x^2 – 16 = 0, believe it or not this one’s gonna be easier.”
…
Shouta was not eavesdropping. If the girls from his hell class didn’t bother to make sure the common room was clear before having their little get-together, that was their fault. Besides, he was waiting on Eri to come back from her playdate with Asui and her siblings, so he had nowhere else to be at the moment.
“Hey, uh, isn’t Mineta being kind of weird lately?” Uraraka asked. Shouta sighed and covered his eyes with one hand. Not this again. He’d given the kid as many chances as he could.
“I didn’t want to say anything, but he spent like two hours with me and Kaminari last night helping us with our math homework,” Jirou replied. “He didn’t even say anything creepy, just kept everything focused on the homework. It was weird.”
“His compliments have been different,” Ashido added. “He noticed I was wearing a new headband before anyone else did. It was nice but, yeah, totally unexpected.”
They were quiet for a few more minutes before Yaoyorozu spoke up. “Should we…should we say something?”
Uraraka snorted. “Like what? ‘Hey. Mr. Aizawa, you can forget all our complaints, Mineta’s decided to be a decent person now’?”
“Well, no,” Yaoyorozu said. “But what if he’s really trying to change?”
“I won’t get my hopes up,” Jirou announced decisively. “If he keeps this up the rest of the semester, we can talk then.”
“I agree,” Uraraka said. “So, anyway, when’s Tsu supposed to be back? We still have to plan that trip to the wildlife center.”
Shouta tuned them out, letting his head drop back against the couch.
So. Mineta was finally trying. Maybe the kid could live up to his potential after all.