Flaws [BNHA x Pokemon!Reader]

Chapter Five

Your eyes grew wide at the sight of the large group of people standing outside of the Yuuei gates with cameras and microphones. Iida and Uraraka were being hounded by the press, and most likely you would be, too. Still, you had to get to class, so you started to force your way through the reporters. You had actually made it a pretty decent amount of the way before you felt someone grab your arm. Turning, you saw it was a woman with light brown hair, who immediately shoved a microphone and a camera in your face.

"Excuse me," she said. "But what can you tell us about having All Might as a teacher?" Oh, this was incredibly uncomfortable and you wanted nothing more than to get out of there, but her grip was like iron. You started to stammer, trying to come up with some excuse to get out of there. You were definitely not a fan of cameras or speaking in front of people, so this was kind of a nightmare for you.

"P-please let go of my arm," you managed to get out. The woman didn't listen to you, her grip only tightening. There would probably be marks left there by her nails digging into your skin.

"Just give us a bit of information, please. We've been waiting out here all morning," she replied, looking at you desperately, practically begging. You tried to get your arm out of her grasp, basically freaking out, before you heard a deep voice from behind you.

"She said to let go of her arm," you turned to see a boy with messy purple hair and tired looking eyes glaring at the woman. "Why aren't you listening to her?" Something about this kid reminded you of Aizawa-sensei, and you got a strange comforting feeling from him.

The woman scoffed. "Because I-."

The woman stopped talking suddenly as her eyes turned white.

"Go home and don't come back," the boy spoke. The woman turned around and left, to your surprise. The boy lightly grabbed your shoulder and pulled you through the rest of the crowd and through the gate.

"Thank you," you took a deep breath. "I owe you one." The boy just looked at you.

You gave him a smile. "I'm (L/n) (Y/n)."

He nodded slightly. "Shinso Hitoshi."

"What class are you in?" You asked. "I've never seen you around, and I think I would remember someone who looks vaguely like my teacher." He really did look like a young, purple version of Aizawa. Shinso raised an eyebrow at your words.

"Ah, sorry," you apologized. "Got a little off topic there. But what class are you in?"

"1-C," Shinso grunted, obviously not too happy about it. "I wanted to be in the hero course, but no such luck."

This is awkward. Here you were, having been practically forced into the hero course, with kids who had given it their all that were forced into general studies.

"Well," you tried to alleviate the mood as the two of you walked slowly into the school. "That sucks. I'm sure you'd be a great hero."

Shinso scoffed. "You don't even know the first thing about me."

You shrugged. "I know that you saved me from that crowd of reporters back there, like a hero would." Shinso looked at you, his eyes filled with both confusion and surprise.

It was quiet after that, so you decided to ask him a question.

"So, what's your quirk?" You spoke up. "I'm assuming it's not something physical, or you would have gotten in through the practical exam."

Shinso didn't respond at first, but when you looked at him, he cleared his throat.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't want to tell you," he stated. "People tell me it's a villainous quirk, and I don't really need yet another person to tell me that."