What The- (MHA Chatfic... Sorta)

Chapter 37: Damage

Izuku didn't sleep. He was never really able to sleep during the day unless he was completely out of it anyway, but it still frustrated him. Especially since it only left him to stew in his thoughts longer.

He wasn't sure how to take the situation. He hadn't been thinking for long, but he knew what were most likely to be the best and worst outcomes here; the best was that the public and police didn't really pay much mind to him or encouraged him, and the worst was either him going to prison or the Hero Commission using Nezu's "inability to spot a vigilante in his own school" as a reason to get him sacked and put one of their own in charge of UA.

There were ways to get around it. But, there would definitely be consequences either way.

It was a frustrating situation to be in, and he didn't know what to do about it. There was no way of telling how much was considered an overreaction without knowing how others would react to it, but by that time, it'd be much harder to do damage control.

He ran his hands down his face with a grumble, curling up under his blankets and covering his head with them. He needed information. He needed information and he needed to think, but he needed to think productively. Forgive him if he was struggling with that part, he was tired (as per usual) and stressed. Oh, and he was eleven, but that's a minor detail.

After eventually deciding that his brain wasn't cooperating with him enough to do anything useful, he sat up again and got out of bed. This wasn't helping him. He didn't know what would, but maybe Shota or Hizashi had something better than the barest amount of information his brain had come up with.

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Shota watched from the couch as his friend busied himself with making drinks in the kitchen. Coffee for Shota and green tea for himself, as usual. Though, Shota didn't think coffee would help him much at the moment, as enjoyable as it was.

Neither of them had said much since his ̶s̶o̶n̶ problem child had gone up to his room. They didn't really know what to say, really. This wasn't a situation that either of them were familiar with, and while Shota had been in a similar position, it wasn't as wide scale as this.

Oleander hadn't been very well known for very long, but a fair amount of people had learnt about him over the past year. He wasn't as well known as someone like PopStep, but someone had mentioned him online at some point and it spread from there. He didn't make any grand gestures or work on big cases, though, so while plenty of people knew he was there, it was more like background knowledge.

However, no matter how well known one was, people would definitely get hyped up over a vigilante's identity being exposed. Especially since that vigilante happened to be a student at UA and the child of one of the teachers. It was an interesting story, so it made sense that people would get invested in it.

Shota didn't really see as a story, though. This was something that was happening in real time to his ward, and it was a bit out of his hands at the moment.

He let out a soft sigh, leaning back in the couch as Zashi walked over with a mug in each hand. He was thankful that he'd gotten a hand out of its cast already, since his left arm wasn't broken quite as badly as his right, allowing him to pick up his mug and drink without help. It was shakey, yes, but better than nothing.

Hizashi sat down next to him, cradling his own mug to his chest without a word. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, but some noise would've been preferable. Thankfully (or not, maybe), light footsteps could be heard from the staircase.