Chapter Text
I.
The boy was hard to miss: incandescent yellow hair, easy smile — the looks of someone who’d get scouted for an idol group. He was listening to music with only one earbud in, gaze raised and constantly moving about the train, grinning at other passengers, making small talk — fully at ease.
But none of that was what really caught Hitoshi’s attention.
It was the uniform.
The same one he was wearing.
UA, huh?
The train was packed with the morning rush of people, but Hitoshi was undeterred. He slunk his way closer — not to seek any direct interaction, but to sate his own curiosity.
Despite his imposing height, Hitoshi found it easy to blend into crowds. His body slouched over, movements subtle — no one paid him any mind.
A sentient part of the background. That’s all. Like kids in school plays who always get stuck with the role of tree.
He crept close enough to see the design on the other boy’s uniform.
…not exactly the same.
One button on each shoulder.
Hitoshi had read the UA handbook front to back when it was mailed to him with his semi-acceptance letter — it included a part about how the uniforms slightly differed between the classes. The two hero courses, support, gen ed…
The boy was in the hero course.
He probably had a good Quirk. A heroic one.
Figures.
- - -
II.
“Hey! You’re the guy from the sports fest!”
A new pair of headphones was slung around his neck, which he didn’t bother to turn off—
love isn’t always on time, no no no!
— he’d gotten so close Hitoshi could hear the tinny sound of his music.
“Guy who fought Midoriya, right? He got you with that over-the-shoulder move!” The other boy pantomimed the motion, as if the whole thing wasn’t on a constant repeat in Hitoshi’s mind since it happened.
“What was that all about? Before the suplex, I mean,” He kept pressing out questions. “Midoriya wouldn’t tell me what your Quirk even was, but Ojiro told me it was somethin’ like mind control!”
His eyes caught in the harsh fluorescent of the train, shimmering. “Hey, could you force me to study? Or like, remember the answers?”
“I’m not going to help you cheat,” Hitoshi sneered, angling his body further towards the window behind him and hoping the blessed little idiot would take a hint. The workload was too much for some of them, huh? That worked out just fine for him. Maybe if really proved to be too hard, some of these 'chosen ones' would start dropping out. It could open a spot for him.
…But he hadn’t won the sports festival; didn’t even make it to the second round of 1v1s. That walking ego-trip Bakugou Katsuki had won— and hadn’t even seemed particularly happy about it. Raged about not winning the way he wanted, or whatever.
The ‘way he wanted’…tch. All these hero course students were the same — didn’t even know how lucky they were and still demanded more. How there was people out there who would kill for even half a chance, would beg for a scrap of what they took for granted.
“It wouldn’t be cheating!” Lightning-boy had not taken the hint. Or just didn’t care. “It’d be like really intense study-buddying. Uh, wait, that sounds kinda— I could pay you? Oh, that sounds worse—“
He ran his tongue over his teeth, tried counting to ten in his head. Getting more annoyed by the millisecond.
It's not in the way you look or the things that you say you'll do
The song was still playing.
“…you really want to try?”
The cat was out of the bag, anyway. A good chunk of people knew what his Quirk was now.
“Ye—“
His Quirk latched on. He stood up, slinging his schoolbag over his shoulder.
“Ignore me the rest of the train ride.”
Of course, his command was always followed.
- - -
III.
In hindsight, Hitoshi should’ve made the order ignore me for the foreseeable future, because after that day, lightning-boy kept trying to talk to him, every train ride they caught each other after school.
However good he was at blending into the background seemed to go out the window — the other boy was always able to pick him out of a crowd. Approached him without reservation, no matter how one-sided the conversation was.
Which was why Hitoshi noticed the day he didn’t.
It was natural to notice someone who approached you constantly. Out of routine or mental preparation or— whatever. Anyway, lightning-boy stuck out in the crowd, destined for the spotlight. Of course Hitoshi caught that bright yellow sunburst of hair in his peripherals, and mentally prepared himself for the onslaught of yammering that was sure to come.
Soon.
Any moment now.
…
Too many moments passed; enough that Hitoshi peered up to relocate the familiar nuisance.
Lightning-boy was standing— slumped across he aisle. His whole posture was withdrawn, but he was white-knuckling the strap handle above him. Despite the iron grip on it, the rest of his body swayed with the motion of the train. His bangs fell over his face in a messy tangle, a bright shroud of dejection. He was out of uniform, in a simple tee and jeans.
Closer now, he could smell antiseptic.
He knocked into him on purpose.
No reaction. Just another sad little sway.
“Watch it,” Hitoshi needled. Say something.
He could piece some things together.
All their conversations blended together, with Hitoshi usually only half-listening — even so, he recalled some things that stuck, that his mind decided to latch onto. Lightning-boy had been talking about a training camp where both the hero classes were going...
He’d seen the news — of course he had, it was everywhere. Student of UA, winner of the sports festival, captured? That Bakugou Katsuki kid, taking up all the air in the room even when he didn’t mean to. UA had still made everyone else go to class as usual, albeit with an intense security ramp-up. Even he — a lowly gen ed kid — had been chaperoned to his train by a pro hero.
To be honest, the whole thing felt so removed from Hitoshi — he couldn’t fully comprehend how dire the situation was, but seeing the other boy so out of sorts…
“…huh?” Was the wilted, delayed response.
…maybe the news wasn’t being sensationalized this time.
“Nothing, just—“ What could he even say? Hitoshi spent his whole life feeling powerless, and now that feeling was spreading.
“…Your stop’s soon.”
He could at least make sure someone got home safe.
- - -
IV.
A month passed before he saw the other boy again. With the dorm system in place, trips back home for all UA students were few and far between; especially those in the hero course.
The hero course…
It would have been months — plural — if not for the joint training test he’d been offered to take. That had been in November, exactly a month prior. It still gave him a jolt of adrenaline at the thought, the rush of everything that happened.
Lightning-boy— rather, Kaminari, as he now knew him as — had been…impressive.
Not only had their team won, but they’d won specifically because of Kaminari’s plan, and at the behest of sticking his own neck out for the rest of them.
Hitoshi wasn’t sure what metrics he was being graded and judged on that earned him his spot, but he couldn’t deny Kaminari had played a role in getting him there. A part in ensuring he was one step closer to his dream.
“…but I like you. Your desire to be a hero— you’re already a proper hero hopeful like the rest of us!”
Whatever warm and fuzzy feeling he got from that memory had gradually been doused by the encroaching impatience he’d been feeling ever since December rolled around. That seemed to follow his every thought.
Why not now? Why wait?
It was the middle of winter, the inside of the train chilly and the world outside frosted over.
It would be four more months until he’d been formally added to the hero course.
Next year.
It had been decided between the hero course staff that would be the best course of action.
But why...
“Shinsou, hey!”
Kaminari’s greeting wrenched him out of his fast-sinking thoughts, offering him a smile that didn’t irk him immediately.
“Kaminari,” he inclined his head in greeting.
“Heading home for winter break too?”
“Mhm.”
“That’s surprising,” at Hitoshi’s raised eyebrow, he continued. “Figured you’d be out there training like crazy, as usual.”
Hitoshi squinted. How did Kaminari know what his ‘usual’ was…?
“You just seem the diligent type, y’know,” Kaminari explained quickly — maybe too quickly — but, Hitoshi supposed that was an easy conclusion to draw about him. No use not being self aware.
Kaminari was still chattering next to him.
“Kinda like Midoriya?” Hitoshi felt his lip curl. “Ooh, is that still a sore spot? He beat you twice now, huh,” Kaminari’s voice had taken an obviously teasing lilt. “Gotta hurt a guy’s ego.”
“I wasn’t aware he had multiple Quirks,” he groused.
“Dude!” Kaminari went through expressions like a deck of cards — constantly shuffling. “Neither did we! Not even Midoriya really knew, either. I guess his new one works like Sero’s tape ‘cause they’re training together now. Totally unfair…! I’d kill for multiple Quirks.”
“You have a good Quirk.” Shinsou wasn’t exactly sympathetic. Kaminari’s Quirk was built to succeed, down to the electrically-operated robots they were always tested with. Even came with a perfect, pre-packaged symbol in his hair. Like he was made to be an action figure.
“Yeah, maybe if you like frying your brain regularly…” Kaminari muttered under his breath. So muffled over the general commotion of the train that Hitoshi barely caught it. “Speaking of, I’m still waiting on that answer— can you make me study, or not? Or get better grades, something, anything. C’mon, man, I need all the help I can get.”
“I can only ‘will’ people do things they already know how to do,” Hitoshi eased into the banter, his mouth curving into a mean little smile.
“Ouch! And after all I’ve done for you...?” Kaminari clutched his chest. Dramatic. “Heh— Seriously though, congrats getting into the hero course!” He flashed another one of his megawatt smiles, that morphed into something pensive.
“And, uh…” He looked around. “If you get a say in the matter—“
“I probably won’t.”
“Listen, listen...! When you get a say in the matter…” He leaned forward conspiratorially, so close that Shinsou could make out the hint of eyeliner smudged around his lash line.
“…think about picking Class A. Yeah?”
Hitoshi swallowed. A jolt of nerves crept up on him. He wasn’t sure from what, exactly — was Kaminari speaking so openly about his transfer making it feel that much more real?
“That your sales pitch?”
“Ohoho, he wants a sales pitch!” Kaminari kept grinning, rubbing his gloved hands together. “Alright, welllll…we have a baker in our class, which means free cakes and cookies all the time.”
Hitoshi shrugged a shoulder. “I’m not much of a sweets guy.” It sounded like a nightmare to his meal plan.
“Tough crowd,” Kaminari sighed, but had another lure lined up: “okay, we also have a musician— a rock star!” He started air-guitaring, so passionately his bag slipped off his shoulder, slumping into the crook of his elbow.
Someone nearby snorted. Kaminari quickly stopped, his face flushing.
“…I like my music lo-fi.” The suggestion was better, but still not quite Hitoshi’s speed.
“You’ll love Jirou’s music, she can play pretty much every instrument,” Hitoshi felt his brow tense at the doting. Kaminari must've sensed this still wasn’t the right route to be taking and easily veered another direction. “Fine, fine— Kouda!”
“Kouda…” He remembered that name from his first team, but truthfully didn’t remember much else. He’d been captured with that Red Riot kid fairly quickly.
“Anima, Kouda— animal whisperer.”
That made Hitoshi perk up.
Kaminari snickered. “You like animals, huh?” His grin had widened so much his nose had started to scrunch up.
“Who doesn't,” Hitoshi was dying to know if Kouda could speak to the cats around campus…but he wasn’t going to give Kaminari the benefit of knowing he was winning ground. Getting closer.
“And, of course,” Kaminari flicked his hair, the signature lightning bolt momentarily displaced. “There’s me.”
Hitoshi paused. Kaminari had a scarf tucked up to his chin, dark in color but with little lightning bolts sewn in to the fuzzy fabric. There was still a flush high on his cheeks — lingering there from the cold or embarrassment from earlier, who knew? He stuck out even more against the frigid white of the snow-scape behind him. Like a tiny sun.
Don't give him an inch.
“…Class B’s looking more appealing suddenly.”
“Oi! Hey! Be nice to your future classmate, Shinsou.”
“We’ll see.” He couldn’t quite tamp down the smile this time.
Kaminari’s stop felt like it approached quicker this time. After he left, Hitoshi allowed himself a secret little thought.
Class A wouldn’t be so bad.
- - -
V.
“…and then Yaomomo said—“
This time, they’d walked to the station together. Summer break had approached fast, but that wasn’t surprising. They’d all been busy — extremely so. Between school, work studies, and helping to rebuild, there was hardly time to think.
For how long the wait felt getting in to the hero course, once he was there, time was speeding by.
- - -
VI.
“It’s weird, right?”
Hitoshi tilted his head and caught Kaminari’s gaze to show he was listening. Kaminari didn’t need much prompting to keep talking, and even today was no different. “Graduating…”
“Hm?”
“I mean, y’know…” Hitoshi stayed silent, letting Kaminari parse his words. “It’s gonna be weird not seeing everyone all the time…” He blinked roughly, and Hitoshi pretended not to notice the glisten to his eyes.
“…want to run errands with me?”
“Eh?”
“Aizawa-sensei asked for some assistance,” this was a half-truth.
“Aizawa-sensei still has you running around!?”
“Yup.”
… Aizawa had actually told him to take it easy today. It was a “day for celebration” — but the entire graduating hero course were going to meet back up on campus for a “last hurrah” party that night, and Hitoshi insisted on still keeping busy, stretch the day out longer. He already had work-studies lined up, but wanted to keep Aizawa as a contact — who knew if he’d be dropped at a moment’s notice? He doubted he’d be working the traditional agency circuit, like most of the class.
“What a hardass,” Kaminari complained for Hitoshi’s sake. “…but I’m gonna miss him too — agh, damnit.” He sniffled, giving in this time and rubbing his arm over his face.
Hitoshi angled his body to block Kaminari from view of the other passengers.
It’s the least I can do.
…He wished he was the type to reach out, to know when to reach out and how. Offer a shoulder to cry on, a comforting hug — but instead he stood there with his arms hanging awkwardly shoved into his pockets, waiting for Kaminari to collect himself.
“What the hell, sure,” Kaminari warbled out a laugh, wiping his face one last time before offering a lazy salute. “Errand boy #2, at your service…!”
- - -
They spent the rest of the day together, running around the better part of Ageo — the stop Kaminari always got off at. They ended up dropping by Kaminari’s house so he could change into his “party clothes” — while Shinsou had been content to stay in his uniform.
He hadn’t been planning on sticking around the party for long, anyway.
Of course, nothing ever went to plan for him.
He’d got roped into a bunch of different party games that different students had set up — some students from the support and business courses had shown up, too. The party took up a fairly vast area and collective groups drifted between these spaces — the area outside between the hero course dorm buildings, and both hero course dorm buildings themselves.
But the main attractions and most party-goers were concentrated in the class A dorms — figures — something Monoma kept complaining about to anyone within earshot — although he didn’t seem bothered enough to leave.
Someone had snuck in alcohol — some sort of cheap conbini beer and highball.
“What’re they gonna do? Expel us?” Kaminari drawled, staying close to Hitoshi’s side. Where he’d spent the better part of the night, dragging him around… a big reason Hitoshi ended up staying as long as he did.
“Could ruin future job prospects,” he sipped daintily from his own can, grimacing at the sour-bitter sting.
“We literally saved the country,” Kaminari argued, throwing an arm around Hitoshi’s shoulders. “C’mon, let loose a little! Let’s get you drunk enough to wanna dance!”
“Good luck with that.”
- - -
Good luck wasn’t needed.
Apparently, Hitoshi was a lightweight.
Still hadn’t convinced him to dance, though.
…Okay, maybe he’d swayed back and forth a little, lured by Kaminari’s arms slung around his waist.
Just a little.
The familiarity of the train welcomed them after — their train line home, slumped against each other. Hitoshi’s school jacket was missing. His breath already tasted stale. His whole body felt flush. He knew the hangover he was going to have the following morning (…later today? What time was it…?) was going to be catastrophic.
But he was here. In a place he never expected but always dreamt of.
Next to a boy he’d…
Kaminari’s head lolled onto his shoulder, pressed so close he could feel Kaminar’s breathing slow.
…began dreaming a little of, too.
The train moved, a city blurred passed them, the earth kept turning.
Kaminari started snoring.
- - -
Hitoshi’s phone pinged the next afternoon.
hey, shinsou
don’t be a stranger