Chapter Text
"What's your name?"
"Monoma Neito," Neito heard himself say.
Hitoshi instantly deactivated his quirk. Neito’d have to have another talk with him about how he didn’t need to stop using it so quickly. Now that he thought about it, they should also try to figure out how long Hitoshi can keep someone under his control. He doubted he’d ever experimented with that before, even before gaining One for All.
"Woah!” Neito exclaimed, "It worked! Is there anything else you couldn't do with your quirk before? You've gotta try them all out!”
“I couldn’t fly,” Hitoshi deadpanned.
Neito gave him an unimpressed look.
Hitoshi rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “All I can think of is stretching the activation requirements past having to get a verbal response, but I don’t think that’d be possible—”
“You never know—”
“ And I guess I could try asking you more complicated questions when you’re being brainwashed, to see how much critical thinking is possible. Though maybe you’re not the best person for that, seeing as your critical thinking skills don’t always exist—”
“Hey! Rude!”
Hitoshi sighed overdramatically, staring forlornly into the distance. “But it’s not like I have any other people to help, so I guess I’ll have to settle for you.”
Neito made an offended noise, clutching at his chest dramatically. “How could you say such a thing?! I’m perfect!”
“And I’m All Might.”
Neito pretended to faint from shock, falling onto his back on the sand.
“Oh no, my hair,” he despaired, after comprehending what he’d done.
Hitoshi snickered.
“Ugh, whatever. Now, we’ve got a few more hours, so let’s try all those other ideas out, yeah?” Neito suggested, grinning up at him from the ground.
Hitoshi grimaced, probably thinking of how he had nearly gotten quirk exhaustion just a few days ago, but then his face stretched into a slightly creepy smile. “Just wait until I figure out how to make you do my math homework for me.”
Neito squawked.
"So this is your idea for your hero costume?" Neito said, scrutinising the paper in front of him.
"Yep," Hitoshi replied, popping the 'p', "Just ignore my bad drawing skills. Not everyone can be an art prodigy like you."
Neito huffed, rolling his eyes. He wasn’t a prodigy , he just had a bit of practice, and, admittedly, more natural talent than some.
He turned his attention back to the sketch. It was labelled thoroughly and he could tell Hitoshi had put a lot of effort into the design, despite the anatomical inaccuracies and such.
"You can definitely tell you're an Eraserhead fanboy from this."
Hitoshi spluttered, face turning red. “It’s not that obvious!”
Neito merely snorted. Anyone who knew anything about underground heroics would be able to tell who Hitoshi took inspiration from. "You have a good idea, though,” he said, “There's a reason Eraserhead’s costume is dark and unassuming. And these purple accents you added give it some flair and personality, without taking away from its stealthiness.
"But, I see a bit of a problem with the pockets on the pants”—Neito tapped them on the paper—“because the fabric isn’t skintight. Anything in these pockets would move around whenever you move, which wouldn’t be good for stealth or overall comfort. I think I have a simple solution, if you like it.”
Neito sketched a few stripes onto the legs of the pants, ones circling each of the lower thighs and another two for the shins, where Hitoshi had placed pockets. “If you make these stripes tight against your legs, then your pockets won’t get in your way. And you could make them purple, too, since you don’t have many accents on the legs right now.”
Hitoshi nodded along, looking a bit dumbfounded. “That… sounds really smart, actually.”
Neito scoffed. “What? Did you doubt me? I said I’d help you with your costume, so I’m not going to give you any half-assed suggestions! And I’m not done yet. I feel like there’s still something missing…” Neito tapped the pencil on his chin, staring intently at the paper. “Oh! I’ve got it!”
Neito added a few angular lines to the chest, arms, and hands of the costume. “You could make these either purple or white, if you keep them. They could just be for decoration, or you could request that they double as lights you can turn on and off, especially for the hands. Then if you’re out at night or somewhere dark, you can use the lights on your hands to see anything detailed you need to work with, like a keypad or buttons.”
Hitoshi blinked at him. “You’re good at this.”
Neito waved him off. “It’s just stuff I picked up online.”
“If you say so.”
Hitoshi still looked skeptical. Neito couldn’t fathom why. It wasn’t like he was a professional or anything, he just liked coming up with ideas. He did things like this all the time, since some heroes' suits were so boring or obviously impractical that Neito winced at the sight of them and couldn't help but mentally redesign them.
And now that he was on SupportSupport, he had adopted more of an eye for the practical aspects of hero costumes by osmosis.
But it wasn’t like it was anything special, not really.
“The weather’s pretty nice today, isn’t it? Not too cloudy.”
Hitoshi cringed, overhearing Tsukauchi’s awkward attempt at starting small talk.
All Might nodded absentmindedly, mournfully watching a pigeon walk in circles next to the bench he was sitting on.
“I heard it’s supposed to rain a bit tomorrow. You should make sure you have an umbrella so you don’t get caught in a downpour again,” Tsukauchi prompted after a solid thirty seconds of silence.
He got a near-identical nod in response, along with a small burst of coughs. All Might looked even more saddened by the prospect of rain.
Hitoshi considered the benefits of jumping out of the tree he was hiding in and running back to school, where he would likely be tormented for the rest of the lunch period, but would be far, far away from the second-hand embarrassment he was currently experiencing.
It hadn’t even been his intention to eavesdrop. Not this time, at least.
He blamed Neito for everything—it was all his fault that he had All Might’s schedule drilled so deep into his head that he unconsciously chose to climb the tree right behind the bench All Might and his police detective friend always sat on during lunch. In fact, Hitoshi was willing to bet his limited edition Present Mic Halloween keychain that Neito had sat in this very tree on one of his many All Might-stalking escapades. The tree was a very good hiding spot, after all. All Might and Tsukauchi still hadn’t noticed him, despite how he kept banging his head on the tree trunk whenever one of them made an especially awkward comment.
They had been talking about the weather for at least ten minutes. Ten minutes! Though, to say they were talking was far too generous of a statement. Tsukauchi was the only one trying to start a conversation, while All Might sank lower and lower into the bench, coughing sporadically. Something really bad must’ve happened for him to be looking like this.
“The weather—” Tsukauchi started again, but thankfully All Might decided to speak up before Hitoshi had to hear any more.
“I can hardly believe it,” he whispered, looking away from the pigeon to bury his face in his hands, “I truly thought he was dead.”
Hitoshi perked up, removing his head from where it was resting on the tree trunk.
Tsukauchi tensed. “He could still be dead. We don’t know for sure.”
“But he’s most likely not.”
Tsukauchi hesitated, but ended up nodding. “...Yes. He’s probably alive.”
Hitoshi listened on with mounting dread.
“And what have I been doing all these years, then, while he gathered his forces and recovered his strength? Nothing, that’s what! I’ve just been sitting here with my health deteriorating, letting him do whatever he wants, and now he’s making a move and it’s too late to do anything about it! We don’t even know what he's trying to do, and now I’ve thrown a child into this whole mess, too!”
“Stop that!” Tsukauchi slapped a hand on All Might’s shoulder, moving him to face him. “Don’t call everything you’ve done useless and wrong! You couldn’t have known you were putting Midoriya in danger when you chose him. It won’t be an easy thing to have a protégé during this, but you would devastate him if you took back your offer without explanation! Besides, it’s a good thing we learned about his return before you passed on your quirk, since now you can tell Midoriya what’s going on and make sure he’s informed and protected if he still wants to take on that role.
“And what’s all this about having done nothing good?! You’re the Symbol of Peace! You’ve been working so hard to maintain that peace, and you’ve succeeded so much! Look at Musutafu! The crime rate here has dropped nearly a quarter since you’ve arrived. That’s not nothing!”
“But it doesn’t matter, not with All for One back—”
All for One?! Back?! Hitoshi kind of wished they had kept talking about the weather.
“How can you say that?!” Tsukauchi interrupted, “Of course it matters! All you can do is fight the injustices you see, and then when you learn about more you can fight those, too. You didn’t know All for One was alive before now, but since that’s changed, I know you’ll do everything in your power to defeat him. We all will!”
Yes, they all will. Hitoshi gripped a tree branch until his knuckles turned white, his face the picture of determination.
They needed to speed up their plan.
“—I know you’ll do everything in your power to defeat him. We all will!” Naomasa caught his breath after his impromptu monologue and then said, softly, “It’s not just you that messed up by assuming All for One was dead. We all could have done better.” He ducked his head to try and get Toshinori to look at him instead of the ground. “You’re not alone in this, Toshinori. And Midoriya isn’t, either.”
For the first time since Naomasa had met up with Toshinori that day, he met Naomasa’s gaze. The troubled look he had adopted since Nezu gave them the bad news had finally disappeared, replaced by something akin to awe.
Water welled up in Toshinori’s eyes. A tear dripped down his cheek, and Naomasa gently wiped it away.
“You beat him once, and you’ll do it again,” Naomasa told him, keeping his voice quiet, “I—We’re all here to help you fight this battle.”
Something heavy hit the ground behind the bench, followed by a quiet “ow!” and what sounded like running.
Naomasa barely heard any of it, too lost in Toshinori’s eyes.
Trigonometry was the bane of his existence. Forget All for One; Neito didn’t think even the boogeyman of the criminal underground could come up with a torture more excruciating than his centimeter-thick pile of trigonometry practice worksheets.
Suddenly, a frantic knocking sounded from the front door. Neito jumped out of his desk chair, only to collapse back into it with a defeated sigh when he heard his mom call, “Coming!”
Muffled voices filtered through the walls. Neito couldn’t make out any words, but he recognised Hitoshi’s voice, even as panicked as it was.
Wait. Panicked?
Within ten seconds of Hitoshi’s arrival, Neito’s bedroom door slammed open. Neito managed to catch the corner of it with his foot before it made contact with the wall, thankfully, so he didn’t have to endure yet another scolding from his mom about ‘dramatics verging on property damage’ and ‘disrupting the neighbours’.
But, he quickly forgot all about those concerns. Hitoshi looked scared—even more so than his voice had suggested. He rushed over to Neito and grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him. “He’s back! He—I barely made it through the rest of the school day without trying to find you because I heard them talking and All Might said he is! And he’s planning something big —he’s already started doing stuff, but I don’t know what—”
“Hold on!” Neito said, standing up and shoving Hitoshi into the chair. He went and sat on the bed, facing him. “Start over from the beginning!”
Hitoshi floundered for a second, before speaking. “Okay, so I was sitting in a tree by that bench where All Might and Tsukauchi always sit for lunch—”
Neito lit up. So Hitoshi was stalking them without Neito! “I feel so proud—”
“Shut up,” Hitoshi groaned, “You’re a bad influence.”
“But you’re still my best friend!” Neito sing-songed.
He glared at Neito halfheartedly. “Anyway, I was sitting in the tree, and I unintentionally overheard them talking, and they were talking all ominously about someone being back and planning some big evil plan. Then, All Might let it slip that they were talking about All for One.”
“All for One?!” Neito shrieked. He clapped his hands over his mouth, hoping his mom hadn’t overheard him. “So soon?! Why now? We only just started giving people One for All, and most of them are students since I thought it’d be at least a few years before he’d come back!”
Hitoshi nodded, serious. “Exactly. They said that All for One was already taking some sort of action, enough for them to know it’s him, but they didn’t say what and they don’t know why. I think it’s because we’re the reason! He must have noticed that heroes are getting stronger because of One for All, and decided that he needs to do something about it!”
Neito felt the blood drain from his face. “We’re screwed, aren’t we.”
Neito had always known that this plan of his would require great sacrifices. He knew that he could be arrested or even killed, depending on who figured out he was giving people All Might’s quirk.
It was all worth the risk, though. The end was far greater than the means.
But this … this was almost too much, even to save the world.
Neito stared up at the sign on the front of the building. Beans and Friends, the establishment that haunted his nightmares. He shuddered at the thought of going inside.
But, it had been at least five minutes since All Might and Tsukauchi went in. He could see through the window that they had sat down at one of the cute-looking purple tables and were trying to get the attention of the black cat All Might had been holding on the day of Neito’s greatest embarrassment. Most importantly, they were talking. And he was outside, unable to hear what they were saying.
Neito steeled his nerves and opened the door. A bell chimed, letting the cashier know a new customer had arrived.
The cashier looked his way. It was the same person from that day.
Neito tried not to seem suspicious by quickly redirecting his gaze to the menu. The truth was, the only reason he didn’t sprint out of the café immediately after recognising him was because his legs were suddenly frozen, and it took all his strength to make them move enough to just walk up to the counter.
At least he had had the foresight to wear a disguise when he set out to follow All Might and Tsukauchi that morning. The black wig and too-large animal print sunglasses, the latter of which he had borrowed from his mom without her knowledge, made him look like a totally different person, if he did say so himself.
Feigning nonchalance, Neito ordered a pastry and a herbal tea. He figured that he didn’t need any caffeine, since he was jittery enough just being in Beans and Friends.
He ordered and received the tea and pastry without any issue, which meant that his disguise worked! Neito shook his head as he sat down at a table next to All Might and Tsukauchi. Of course it worked, since it was his brilliant idea! He really hadn’t needed to worry so much.
Neito pulled his earbuds out of his pocket, putting them in his ears so it looked like he was listening to music. In reality, he was listening in on a conversation that could very well give him all the information he needed to know about All for One’s big return.
“I’m glad we could go out somewhere nice,” Tsukauchi was saying, “We’ve been so busy that it feels like we hardly ever have time for anything besides work.”
All Might nodded glumly. “With him back, I feel like I can’t take a break.”
Tsukauchi sighed. “You need to start working less. It’s bad for your health!”
As if it was timed, All Might started coughing. He pulled out a handkerchief to cover his mouth. “Naomasa, I must say that is a bit hypocritical of you. I need to work to be the symbol you say I am!” He smiled, raising a fist halfway in the air. “Besides, it’s likely you work even more than I do.”
“You have a point.” Tsukauchi ran a hand over his face. “I’m just worried, is all. And it’s not my fault I work so much. Everyone calls me in for their important interrogations, as if my quirk will instantly make criminals spill everything. It’d be nice if it did, but it’s not like it’ll ever miraculously get stronger.” Tsukauchi chuckled dryly. “We’ll just have to stick with our slow and arduous way of doing things, which means I’ll probably be overworked until I retire.”
It took all Neito’s self control not to whip his head around to stare at Tsukauchi. His eyes widened, and a nearly maniacal smile grew on his face. He quickly took a drink of his tea to hide it.
“Like you said, we’re doing all we can,” All Might comforted, reaching over to rest his hand on Tsukauchi’s on the table between them.
“This is depressing.” Tsukauchi sighed deeply. “I think we need a break from work talk.”
All Might hummed in agreement, sounding just as tired.
“Let’s talk about something else, like… How did you hear of this café? It isn’t along your usual route.”
All Might lit up. “Ah! That’s actually a funny story! You know a bit of it already, but I don’t think I’ve told you about everything. You see, these flyers kept appearing…”
Neito stopped listening. He drank the last few sips of his tea in one big gulp and stuffed the remainder of the pastry in his mouth before standing up to leave.
He hadn’t learned any more about All for One, but he had discovered something just as good: a way to help!
Distracted as he was, he missed the garbage bin when he went to throw his cup and napkin away.
Neito bent over and picked them off the ground. Too late, he noticed the wig and too-large sunglasses begin to slip off his head. He quickly tried to right himself, forgetting the garbage in his hands, and ended up smacking himself in the face with them.
“Agh!” he said, just as the wig and sunglasses fell to the floor, revealing his face to the entire café.
“You!” the cashier yelled, sounding half disbelieving and half angry.
Neito didn’t take any chances. He ran like hell.
Neito crouched behind a bush, adjusting the wig on his head. This wig was blue and curly and he had paired it with some cheap costume glasses he had lying around. He was even wearing an apron to complete the look.
Hidden from view, Neito scanned the crowded farmer’s market. Through the branches and people, he watched as Tsukauchi and All Might stopped at each market stall together.
His leg bounced, jostling the tray of cookies resting on it. All Might began to move on to the next stall, but Tsukauchi hadn’t noticed. The timing was nearly perfect—
Dammit!
Tsukauchi had moved and now he was once again glued to All Might’s side.
Neito checked his phone and grimaced. He only had a few minutes to do this before he would have to go get One for All again.
All Might said something to Tsukauchi, and then went over to a stall selling an assortment of brightly-coloured mugs. Tsukauchi didn’t follow him. Neito grinned.
He plastered an innocent smile on his face, and jumped out of the bush.
Naomasa was about to go ask the owner of the fresh fruit stall if they had any discounts for buying more than one container of cherries, when someone tapped him on the shoulder. Confused, he turned around, only to come face-to-face with a blue-haired kid wearing an apron and holding a tray of cookies. He had a few leaves in his hair.
“Hi! Have a free sample! You’ll never have something like it ever again!” he said, smiling and shoving his tray at Naomasa.
Naomasa blinked. What an odd way of phrasing that. He was telling the truth, too. “...What type are they?”
“They're miso butter cookies! The best around!”
Naomasa’s quirk told him that he was telling the truth. Well, then, if he truly believed them to be that good, they must be worth a try.
He took one of the cookies, and the kid’s smile widened. The kid watched him eat the cookie, which was a bit weird, but the cookie’s taste overshadowed his discomfort. It was heavenly. No wonder he had been telling the truth.
“Where—” Naomasa began to ask.
“Bye!” the kid shouted, waving to Tsukauchi as he slipped away into the crowd.
“Wait!” Naomasa called, but it was too late. He frowned. The kid hadn’t told him what the name of his stall was, let alone where in the market he could find it.
A shame, really. He would’ve liked to buy a few of those cookies.
Neito grinned like an evil genius as he snuck away from Tsukauchi, garnering some odd looks from passersby. He took off his apron, shoving it in his bag along with the glasses and wig.
He stuffed two of the cookies in his mouth, humming in satisfaction.
Like always, his grandma’s famous miso butter cookies solved every problem. Though, thankfully, he hadn’t had to ruin an entire batch with arsenic like she did.
After spending hours at the market, Naomasa was exhausted. He waved tiredly to Toshinori before he drove away, a fond smile gracing his features. Then, he trudged to his apartment, using one hand to unlock the door and the other to set his bag full of boxes of fresh cherries and other produce on the counter once he got inside.
He yawned, looking at the clock. It wasn’t even that late, just a few hours after he had eaten supper with Toshinori, but Naomasa was tired enough that going to sleep felt like the best thing in the world.
Besides, when was the last time he had the chance to sleep for nine consecutive hours?
In the morning, Naomasa woke up a minute before his alarm went off. He blinked groggily at the glowing numbers until the clock started beeping violently at him, prompting him to sigh and finally get up.
As Naomasa went to make breakfast, he remembered the cherries he had bought the day before and put in the fridge.
When he pulled open the fridge door, the entire fucking door ripped off its hinges.
Naomasa stared at it for a solid minute, still holding it with one hand, his mind completely and utterly blank.
Then, he calmly leaned it against the fridge, pulled out his phone, and dialed a number he knew from memory.
“Toshinori,” he said, as soon as his call was answered, his voice carefully devoid of emotion, “We have a problem.”
Toshinori stared at the broken fridge, mouth agape. “That is certainly a problem.”
Neito stared out the window, ignoring the trigonometry worksheet sitting on his desk and his teacher’s droning voice. Tsukauchi had probably figured out that his quirk had ‘mutated’ by now.
He smiled. Now the detective’s workload would be lighter, and he could focus more on figuring out what All for One was doing.
Tsukauchi was probably so relieved!
The atmosphere in Nezu’s office was tense. Naomasa resisted the urge to fidget as both Nezu and Toshinori stared at him, though at least the latter was trying to hide it.
“I don’t know how I got this… this replica of One for All,” Naomasa started, trying and failing to keep the desperation out of his voice, “I didn’t do anything to get it, and I don’t have any memory of All for One approaching me or doing whatever he did to give me this! I know you can’t guarantee I’m telling the truth because I‘m the one with the truth quirk, but please believe me! I’m not working for All for One, or—”
“Of course we don’t think you’re working for All for One!” Toshinori grabbed Naomasa’s hand earnestly.
Nezu nodded, taking a sip from his teacup. “Yes, he is correct. There’s no need to panic, detective. I already know you’re unaware of the circumstances that gave you this quirk.
“It is an interesting development, though, as you are the first non-pro hero we know of to get one of these replicas of One for All. We can now assume that at least some of the people who got replica quirks are innocent, if not all of them.”
The room once again lapsed into silence.
“Have you discovered anything else about All for One’s plans? Or how he managed to make replicas of One for All and give all it to all these people?” Toshinori asked.
Nezu’s teacup paused halfway to his mouth and was set back down in its saucer. It clattered loudly in the quiet room. “Unfortunately, besides identifying a few more recipients of these quirks, this conversation has been the most substantial thing to happen in my investigation since we last spoke.”
Naomasa and Toshinori sat in stunned silence. Was All for One’s plot really so flawless that the Nezu had hit a wall while investigating it?!
“That being said, I believe it is time to get another person involved now that we have confirmation that people can receive this quirk without having anything to do with All for One.”
Naomasa eyed him warily. “Who are you thinking of?”
Nezu grinned widely. “Just someone who’s been asking me about his ‘quirk mutation’ for a while now.”
“Aizawa,” a voice called, “Do you have a minute to talk?”
Shouta looked up from the horrific essay he was grading—seriously, had this kid never paid attention to a single word he said in class?—to see Detective Tsukauchi standing in the doorway of his classroom.
He grunted, gesturing for him to come in.
“What are you doing at UA?” he asked, once Tsukauchi had closed the door. “Did something happen?”
Tsukauchi hesitated. “I suppose you could say that.”
Shouta raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nezu wants you to join an investigation. A very important, off-the-records investigation.” Tsukauchi sighed. “So, I’m here to ask you a few questions to make sure you won’t compromise it if you join our efforts. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you why I’m the one he sent.”
“Nezu?” Shouta asked, sounding tired. Then, realisation dawned on his face, and his other eyebrow shot up as well. “Does this have to do with what happened to my quirk?”
“I can neither confirm nor deny that.”
So it was, which meant that Nezu had finally decided to tell Shouta something about whatever the fuck had happened to his quirk. Shouta was tired of being dismissed whenever he asked about it, and his independent investigations had been leading nowhere.
“Do you know the name All for One?” Tsukauchi asked.
“Of course I’ve heard of him. He’s the boogeyman of the underground.” Shouta looked at him strangely.
Tsukauchi nodded. “Have you ever met him?”
“What? Obviously not!” Shouta sputtered, “You’re investigating an urban legend? Are you saying that he’s real?”
Tsukauchi sighed. “Please just answer the questions. We’ll tell you everything after.”
‘If you pass this test’ was left unsaid.
“Fine.” It was Shouta’s turn to sigh.
“Are you in any way involved with All for One, his people, or any of his plans?”
“No.”
“Do you know anyone who is?”
“No, though if he’s real like you’re suggesting, then I could know someone that’s involved with him without being aware of that fact.” Huh. Shouta hadn’t really planned on saying all that, but it just slipped out anyway.
Tsukauchi hummed. “Good point. To clarify: to your knowledge, do you know anyone who is involved with All for One or his people?”
“No.”
“Do you know why or how your quirk changed?”
“No.” Shouta was starting to see the connection between these questions.
“Do you want to be a part of this investigation? Why?”
“Yes, I definitely do,” Shouta stressed, “I know Nezu knows something about what happened to my quirk, but he won't tell me when I ask, and all the investigating I’ve been doing on my own has been fruitless. Honestly, I wouldn't be all that surprised if All for One is real at this point. From all the questions you've asked just now and all the thinking I've done throughout the past four months or so, it’s starting to seem like there isn’t really another option.
“At first, I just wanted to figure out what happened to me, but now I’m afraid that this is a lot larger than myself and that my quirk changing is only a small piece of a big and dangerous picture. I don’t want to stand around doing nothing when people might get hurt.” Shouta concluded, taking a moment to catch his breath.
Then, he blinked, a bit dazed. He also hadn’t meant to say all that. He must be really sleep-deprived today if he was spilling an unnecessary amount of his inner thoughts to Tsukauchi just because he asked him a few questions.
The loudspeakers in Shouta’s classroom crackled to life. “Welcome to the team, Aizawa!” Nezu’s voice said, “Please, come up to my office so I can fill you in on everything you need to know!”
“Y’know, Hitoshi, you should really start some sort of combat training for the entrance exam,” Neito said one day, sitting with his back against the headboard of his bed and a sketchbook full of hero costume ideas on his lap, “It’s only a few months away and the practical could be anything, so you shouldn’t just rely on your quirks.”
Hitoshi looked at him quizzically. “Don't you think you’re forgetting something?”
Neito looked up from his latest sketch of Hitoshi’s hero costume—he had taken up Neito’s offer to take over the drawing part for him, since Neito was better at drawing and was helping him with the more detailed design aspects of his costume. “What do you mean?”
Hitoshi raised an eyebrow.
Neito gave him a blank look.
“We’re both trying for the hero course,” Hitoshi said, “Or are you saying you’ve elected to ignore your own advice? Hypocrite.”
“I’m not a hypocrite!” Neito quipped instinctually, only to then find himself at a loss for words.
That’s… weird. He always knows what to say.
He’s also always known he was going to be a hero. He’s been planning for that for years! Just look at all the times he’s drawn out his costume!
Neito’s eyes widened abruptly, a sinking feeling forming in the pit of his stomach. With trembling hands, he looked at the sketchbook in his lap, and began flipping through its pages. Ignoring Hitoshi’s concerned questions in the background, Neito found what he wanted: his most recent design for his own hero costume.
The date above the drawing seared itself into his mind.
It was a day from over two months ago.
He sucked in a sharp breath. The last time he drew an idea for his hero costume was two months ago. The last time he thought about being a hero himself was two months ago . Every sketch since was either for Hitoshi or a random hero he heard about online.
Not Monoma Neito.
Strangely, the thought didn’t seem new. It made some sort of sense that he’d be making hero costumes not for himself, but for other people.
After all, hadn’t he already realised that he wasn’t going to be able to be one of the great heroes that saved the world?
When was the last time he examined what he actually wanted? Being a hero was something that he had decided on from a young age, and it had just followed him as a constant since. He hadn’t given it any actual thought for years .
And now that he did, he wasn’t sure that was what he wanted.
Neito didn’t need to be the one in the spotlight, at least not in that way. He’d rather play to his skills—skills that he’d been unknowingly using this whole time, whether it was in his own sketches or when he posted on SupportSupport, helped SmallMight, or gave Hitoshi advice.
Neito’s eyes widened as he recalled a conversation from months ago. A conversation where he lied about wanting to apply to the support course when SmallMight had assumed he did.
Maybe it didn’t have to be a lie anymore.
A sharp pain on his cheek knocked him out of his thoughts. His hand flew to his face.
“Ow! Did you just slap me?!” Neito said, aghast, after he reoriented himself.
“What else was I supposed to do?!” Hitoshi countered, voice a few octaves higher than usual. Neito suddenly noticed how scared he looked. “You just flipped through your sketchbook and stopped moving, and you wouldn’t respond to anything I said!”
“Huh,” Neito said. He hadn’t realised that.
“So, what happened?! Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I am now. I just realised something.”
Hitoshi looked at him expectantly.
“I don’t want to be a hero.” Neito looked at his hands, suddenly blinking back tears. “I’m going to sign up for the support course instead.”
When Hitoshi was silent, Neito glanced up, expecting him to be betrayed or confused. Instead, he looked contemplative.
“That actually makes a lot of sense,” Hitoshi said, resting his chin on his hand, “You’re really good at that stuff. I think you’ll do really well in support, maybe even better than you’d do in heroics.”
Neito tackled him into a hug.
Shouta sighed for the third time since he and Hizashi had come back home after UA’s school day.
Hizashi looked up from the test prep he was doing to see Shouta slouching on the couch, Mochi in his lap and Anko resting half on his head and half on the back of the couch. The cats were purring softly, content.
Shouta, however, was clearly not content.
Hizashi closed his laptop and slid onto the couch next to him. “What’s up?”
Shouta sighed again. “Nezu finally stopped ignoring my questions.”
“Isn’t that a good thing? You’ve been asking him what he knows for ages, and he kept brushing you off.” Hizashi frowned, suddenly concerned. “Is it something bad? Are you in danger?!”
Shouta grimaced. “It isn’t good, that’s for sure.”
Hizashi leaned into Shouta’s side and threw an arm around his shoulders, accidentally scaring Anko away. “How bad is it?”
“The most dangerous man in the criminal underworld has some role for me in his villainous plans and may want me dead.”
“WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!”
Neito stared at the computer screen in front of him. “Apply now!” the page on UA’s website screamed. With a hesitant smile growing on his face, Neito scrolled past the section advertising UA’s famous heroics course.
His mouse hovered over a box reading “Apply to the Support Department!”
Neito clicked the link.