Chapter Text
Hitoshi knew he hadn’t seen the end of Neito Monoma. Granted, it hadn’t been very hard to come to that conclusion; anyone who had ever exchanged a word with Monoma could tell he lacked any modicum of subtlety.
“I promise to be the first one to congratulate you when you’re accepted into the hero course!” Monoma had loudly announced in the locker room after their joint training, a mischievous grin plastered on his face like a trophy.
Coming from anyone else, Hitoshi would have interpreted that sentence as an encouragement of sorts, an alternative way of saying, I know you’ll make it, I’m rooting for you. No way did those words mean the same thing coming from Monoma, though. Hitoshi had only known him for all of three hours, but he would be willing to bet his life on it given the chance. No matter how he looked at it, Monoma’s words had been a threat.
It may have been the way Monoma extended his hand to him as he said it that convinced Hitoshi of that, as if a shake would make the claim official. Or maybe it had been the look Monoma gave him, one which practically dared him to object. Hitoshi did neither. He merely nodded.
When Aizawa first told him he’d been accepted into the hero course, he didn’t bother telling anyone. Hitoshi figured he’d save himself the trouble of explaining himself over and over if he just let Monoma take the reins. He’d surely stride into Hitoshi’s classroom one day with a huge banner or a fully-formed choir. Hitoshi had no prior references to justify these assumptions, but it nonetheless sounded like something Monoma would do.
Thus, Hitoshi walked into class on Monday and prepared himself for the mental strain and embarrassment Monoma would undoubtedly unleash on him, only for the final bell to ring without so much as a minor inconvenience.
On Tuesday, Hitoshi happened across Monoma in the hallway. The blond smiled and said, “Good morning, Shinsou! I hope your day is lovely,” before they parted ways. On Wednesday, Hitoshi caught sight of him in the lunch line. He gave Hitoshi a friendly wave. On Thursday, they bumped into each other while Hitoshi walked into the bathroom. Monoma winked and brushed past without a word.
Friday came and went just as quickly, and once Saturday rolled around, Hitoshi accepted that Monoma had simply forgotten. His seeming obsession with Hitoshi during their joint training had merely been circumstantial. With that, Hitoshi finally allowed himself to relax and revel in his newfound calmness of mind.
It lasted one day.
Hitoshi hit the floor for what felt like the millionth time. Honestly, he wouldn’t have been surprised if it were. His arms ached as he pulled them out from underneath him.
“That was a nice try,” Aizawa complimented him. He hopped down from his perch on the tree, goggles hanging around his neck. “Blocking to buy yourself time is a clever tactic.”
“But it wasn’t enough,” Hitoshi muttered. He forced his body off the floor with a groan.
“Don’t sell yourself short,” Aizawa said. He brushed the dirt off Hitoshi’s shoulder. “It was enough to get you into the hero course, after all.”
Hitoshi’s heart skipped a beat at the words. It always felt more real whenever Aizawa said it aloud. “I guess so.”
“Get some rest. Same time on Tuesday.”
“I’ll be here.”
Aizawa nodded and disappeared in the direction of the teacher’s dorms, maneuvering from tree to tree with ease. Hitoshi yearned for the day when he could do the same, but trying at this point in his training would only cause him grief.
He yawned, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and began his walk back to the student dorms. Normally he’d need a teacher to escort him back, but being a general studies student came with its perks. Being “low risk” meant Aizawa could just send him off with a signed note in his pocket in case anyone stopped him.
Hitoshi walked in silence for the next few minutes, taking in the fresh night air. The cold seeped into his skin, reminding him he probably should’ve brought a jacket. Regardless, he enjoyed the stroll in the dark. He used to depend on his phone’s flashlight to guide him out of the woods, but after taking the same route so many times, he could manage just fine without it. Otherwise, he might have noticed the surprisingly familiar bump on the road.
“Shins—” a voice was cut off as Hitoshi’s shoe made contact with flesh.
Hitoshi immediately jumped back, one hand reaching for the binding cloth hanging from his neck. The other pulled out his phone. With a quick tap, he turned on the screen and shone it at the offender. “Who?” he asked, activating his quirk. If the villain knew his name, it probably knew about his quirk too, but it was worth a try.
“It’s just me–”
The voice cut off, as they often did whenever Hitoshi used his quirk. Once his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he made out Monoma, or rather, Monoma’s head . Only his face and hand could be seen above ground. The rest of his body was nowhere to be found, presumably hiding somewhere within the pool of darkness swirling beneath his neck. He looked like something straight out of a cheap horror movie, blank eyes awaiting orders.
With a sigh of relief, Hitoshi deactivated his quirk.
“Ouch!” Monoma complained, wiping away at a small stream of blood coming from his nose. “Have you forgotten about me already?”
“Sorry,” Hitoshi muttered. “You surprised me.”
“I guess that’s probably my fault for popping out like that,” said Monoma, pulling out his other arm from the shadows.
Oh, really? Hitoshi’s restraint only barely beat out the temptation to ask Monoma how he hadn’t considered the obvious.
Instead he asked, “Whose quirk is that?”
“Kuroiro’s. I borrowed it before I left. I don’t have much time left with it, though.”
As if on cue, Monoma’s body propelled upwards, pushing him out of the shadows so roughly he stumbled onto the floor.
“What’d you need it for?” Hitoshi held back a chuckle as he helped Monoma up to his feet.
Monoma dusted off his knees, seemingly unbothered by his pathetic display. “It’s just faster to travel this way. Easier to sneak out of the dorms too. I was hoping it would help me run into you quicker.”
Hitoshi raised an eyebrow. “You were looking for me?” He’d assumed they’d just toppled into each other by coincidence, but looking back, what other reason would Monoma have to sneak out into the woody outskirts of UA in the middle of the night? Besides, any “coincidences” involving Monoma were subject to suspicion.
“Of course!” Monoma clapped his hands together and smiled. “I heard about your official acceptance into the hero course. I thought a formal congratulations was in order; you certainly deserve one.”
Hitoshi didn’t have the heart to tell him it had been a week already, so he merely scratched the back of his head and said, “Thanks…”
“Am I the first?” Monoma asked.
“Besides Aizawa, I guess.”
“Wait, really?” Monoma blinked in confusion. “Well, I guess I did promise…”
Hitoshi mirrored Monoma’s confusion. “Did you know beforehand?”
“No, no, no, no.” Monoma shook his head. “Of course not.”
Monoma was lying, but Hitoshi didn’t care enough to egg him on. The reason he’d held out for so long didn’t matter, anyway. Monoma had fulfilled his promise, which meant the only thing left was for him to follow through with whatever over-the-top congratulations he had in store. Would he pull out firecrackers from his pocket, or maybe a fancy presentation on his phone? How many other people were hiding behind trees and bushes, waiting for some secret keyword? Was Aizawa in on this somehow?
“Mind if I walk back with you?” Monoma asked. “Our dorms are practically next to each other, after all.”
“Huh?”
Monoma tilted his head slightly. “Is that a problem?”
“No, I just–” Hitoshi ran through all the scenarios he’d come up with in his head for the past week. None of them had involved a walk. How could the guy before him resemble Monoma so perfectly, yet act so unlike him?
Though, taking a closer look at him now, Hitoshi couldn’t be sure this was really Monoma after all. He’d only ever been around Monoma during school hours, but the thought of him wearing sweats and a hoodie felt wrong. The clothes themselves seemed to agree with Hitoshi, hanging at such odd angles off Monoma’s body that one would guess they weren’t his to begin with.
Then again, who was to say this wasn’t all a part of some convoluted plot? It had been rather convenient for Kuroiro’s quirk to run out just as Monoma had found him.
“Is that a yes or..?” Monoma pressed after a few seconds of silence.
“Sure,” Hitoshi decided. Whatever Monoma had planned, he figured he might as well get it over with.
“Splendid!” Monoma smiled once more. He led the way, making his way expertly through the trees. He’d definitely been here before, but Hitoshi didn’t get a chance to ask amongst all the chatter on Monoma’s part.
“You must be really proud,” he chirped. “You finally made it!”
“Yeah…”
“Aren’t you excited? You don’t sound excited.”
“I am.” Hitoshi stuffed his hands into his pockets, his eyes peeled for the first sign of a class ambush.
“Don’t second-guess yourself.” Monoma ignored Hitoshi’s affirmation. “You did great!”
“We lost, though, and rather badly at that,” Hitoshi pointed out. “I’m surprised that was enough to convince the staff I’m fit for the course.”
Monoma spun around so quickly, Hitoshi feared the momentum would send him flying. Monoma caught himself on Hitoshi’s shoulder and gave it a hearty shake.
“Nonsense! You did amazing, and the teachers obviously agreed. If anything, I lost. I should’ve been able to do more with what I had available.”
Hitoshi narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t think I’d ever hear that coming from you .”
Monoma gave a nervous chuckle. “Contrary to popular belief, I know when to accept the truth and cut my losses.”
Hitoshi shrugged. “Sure, if you say so.”
Monoma’s jaw clenched. Hitoshi thought he saw his eye twitch, but he didn’t get a chance to make sure before Monoma let go and turned back around.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
“No,” Hitoshi lied.
“Okay.”
Monoma didn’t speak again until they left the woods and reached the sidewalk. “So? Do you know what class you’ll be joining?” he eventually brought up.
Hitoshi should’ve seen the question coming from miles away. “No. I’m not even sure if I get to choose.”
“Well, if you do, might I suggest Class B?”
“I’ll be choosing whichever class will help me become a hero the quickest,” Hitoshi answered truthfully.
“Pff, you don’t seriously want to join those 1-A brats?” Monoma laced his taunt with the same vitriol Hitoshi had come to expect from him. It surprised him it had taken this long for it to show up.
“Not really,” Hitoshi admitted. “But I can’t just choose based on how many friends I have in a class.”
Monoma huffed. “Oh, I suppose I forgot you have that luxury.”
“Excuse me?” Hitoshi hadn’t ever been the target of Monoma’s bitterness, but he should have known that siding with class 1-A, even if only vaguely, would inspire his ire.
Monoma’s eyes widened, as if only just now realizing what he’d said. “Forget it, forget it,” he quickly added. “Just keep what I said in mind, yeah?”
“Okay.” Hitoshi decided it was probably best to drop it there.
They reached the 1-C dorm building first. Hitoshi tried looking through the windows from where they stood, but he was too far away to see if anything or anyone was hiding behind them.
“Which room’s yours?” Monoma asked.
Hitoshi pointed to the second floor. “Leftmost corner.”
“Can I see?”
“Why?”
“You have a cat right?”
“Who told you that?”
“You did. Kind of.” Monoma pointed at Hitoshi’s pocket. “You showed me your home screen when you brainwashed me.”
“Right.” Hitoshi recalled the photo of Miko he kept as his background. He’d taken the shot while she lay curled up on his lap, her tail lying on top of her head like an antenna.
“Your cat reminds me of the one I have back home,” said Monoma.
“Couldn’t bring her with you?”
“She’s technically my sister’s cat.”
This could also be a part of some master plan, but Hitoshi couldn’t in good conscience take that risk. Cat deprivation was a real issue, after all. “I guess you could visit her for a bit.”
Monoma smiled. “Thank you.”
Warily, Hitoshi unlocked the front door with his ID and let them both in. They crossed the first floor, climbed up the stairs, and reached his room without any disturbances. He half-expected confetti to rain down on him once he opened the door, but nothing seemed out of place at first glance.
Miko immediately walked up to greet them, rubbing herself against Hitoshi’s legs before moving on to Monoma. Monoma crouched down to let her sniff him, then began petting her head.
“What’s her name?” Monoma asked.
“Miko.”
“Cute.”
Hitoshi dropped his backpack by the door and took a seat on his bed, eyes locked onto Monoma. Monoma barely spared him a glance, too busy petting Miko to do much else.
“Can I get your number?” Monoma asked.
“What for?”
“In case I ever want to visit again.”
“Okay.” Hitoshi handed over his phone. He’d deal with whatever Monoma downloaded onto it later.
After a minute or so, Monoma handed the phone back and stood. “Alright, see you around, Shinsou.”
Hitoshi could have let him leave. He could finally go to sleep and remember the night as some bizarre dream in which Neito Monoma had found him in the woods and given him the most lackluster congratulations of his life. But Hitoshi wasn’t naive, and letting Monoma go now would only mean trouble for him later.
“Is that it?” Hitoshi found himself asking.
“Hm?” Monoma stopped in his tracks just as he reached for the doorknob.
“That was it? No flash mob, no surprise party?”
Monoma pressed his lips together. “Is that what you wanted?”
“It’s what I expected.” Hitoshi ran his hand through his hair. “If you’re planning something, could you just get it over with? I won’t get any sleep otherwise.”
Monoma hesitated. He tapped his foot against the floor. “You sure you want to hear it? Tetsu thought it was a bad idea.”
Hitoshi nodded. “You’re going to go through with it no matter what, right? Might as well be prepared for it.”
“Heh.” Monoma grinned and flipped his hair, back to his usual theatrics. His eyes lit up with mischief as he extended his arm and pointed his index finger at Hitoshi. With an intensity Hitoshi hadn’t seen since their loss against Midoriya’s team, he exclaimed, “Consider this a formal warning, Shinsou. You’ll be joining Class B next year. I’ll make sure of that.”
Hitoshi rolled his eyes. “And how are you going to do that?”
Monoma winked. “Don’t you worry about that. You’ll see soon enough.”
“Why do you want me in Class B so bad, anyway?”
“Haven’t I already told you? Because I like you, Shinsou. I’d rather drop dead before I let those Class A jerks take you away.” Monoma’s scowl returned for a moment at the mention of Class A.
“And what if I end up choosing Class A anyway?”
“I assure you, I’m going to win this time,” Monoma dismissed the possibility with unbridled confidence. “In the event that I do fail, however, it’s best you prepare yourself. I may not show it, but I’m a pretty sore loser.”
No shit.
“Fine. I’m guessing there’s no way to convince you to not?”
Monoma put his hands on his hips. “Not a chance. You asked for it, Shinsou, and now you’re going to get it.”
Hitoshi sighed. Maybe it would’ve been better if he’d let Monoma leave after all.
“Goodnight, Shinsou~” Monoma waved as he skipped out of his room. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I’m sure I will.”
When Hitoshi reached the first floor the next morning, he was met with applause. Several of his classmates cheered and clapped as the elevator doors closed behind him, but he couldn’t make out anything with everyone speaking at once.
“Shinsou, is it true?” his classmate, Tsukino, broke free from the crowd and approached him.
“What is?
“That you got accepted into the hero course!” she exclaimed.
Hitoshi felt the suppressed dread in his gut rise up at a concerning speed. “Yeah, but, who told you?”
“Actually, it’s a little weird, but a cake was left for you in the kitchen.” Tsukino dragged him by the arm to the kitchen to see for himself.
A few other people were already gathered around the aforementioned cake. They let him through as soon as they saw him, but they needn’t have done so for Hitoshi to get a good look at it.
The cake could easily feed a hundred people with its four layers, each a foot tall and probably twice as wide. Welcome to the hero course, Shinsou! was written into the topmost layer with bright purple icing, followed by a small doodle of a blond guy with blue eyes. That alone made it obvious who’d left it, but Monoma’s name was nevertheless signed right after. A miniature, edible version of Hitoshi’s voice mask topped the cake off.
“Who’s Monoma?” asked Tsukino. “A friend of yours?”
Hitoshi rolled his eyes. “Something like that.”
Hitoshi knew he hadn’t seen the end of Neito Monoma. He just couldn’t tell yet whether that was a good thing or not.