Muted Voices (A BNHA/MHA x OC Fanfic)

Chapter 22: The Fight

I sprint down the hall and into the classroom. Falling into my seat, I let out a sigh. I can feel Koda's confused stare on the back of my head which makes me curl into myself, self-consciously. 

"Koto!!" Ochaco shrieks from the door. She runs to her seat, Midoriya, Iida, Todoroki, and Tsu following close behind. They all go to their seats, except Midoriya who stands behind her, his desk being all the way across the room from the rest of his squad. "What happened in the cafeteria?" She asks, worriedly. They stare at me expectantly, all except Todoroki who is now either asleep or meditating at his desk. 

I consider my answer for a brief moment. If I sign something to her, there are others in the class now who can understand me. But at the same time, if I illuse right into her ear, someone could hear. Best to just say something general and hope nobody looks into it. "Family stuff. I'll explain later," I sign with a lopsided frown. 

She translates to the rest of the group that it's just family stuff. She knows better than to tell them they'll be getting an explanation, because they certainly won't. 

The Bakusquad, now officially including Mina, walks through the door and to their seats, rowdy as ever, as this interaction is taking place. Kirishima turns around in his seat to talk to me, but Iida beats him to it. 

"Yamada, why didn't you eat anything in the cafeteria?" He makes chopping motions with his hands and I can feel multiple pairs of eyes on me as I shrink further into my seat. "Without proper sustenance, you cannot hope to perform well in school or your training!"

At the feeling of holes being burned into the side of my head, I lift my gaze from the desk to see crimson eyes flaring at me. Bakugo mumbles something akin to "fucking dumbass" as he turns away and hunches over his own desk. 

I feel tears prick at my eyes because of all the attention. I raise my hands from my lap to sign something, all while keeping my head lowered, so my hair mostly covers my face. The only person who can theoretically see my face is Kirishima, but I don't think he will mention anything. 

"She said she had a big breakfast this morning, so she'll be fine," Kirishima translates, his gravelly voice soft, yet commanding enough to serve as a warning to leave me be. 

I don't know if I've ever been so thankful, my heart swells in my chest. My first positive emotion in days. Thank you Kiri. It wasn't expected, but I appreciate it. 

"Lying bitch," a mumble from across the room says, immediately squashing the warm feeling. However, Kirishima's statement has turned pretty much the rest of the class away, unconcerned, so I offer him a small smile. It might reach my eyes, and it might not. I don't really care at the moment. 

"I AM HERE!!!" All Might bursts through the door, interrupting Iida from continuing to scold me. Midoriya squeaks and runs to his desk, sitting down quickly. 

"Get into your gym uniforms, kiddos!!! We're doing combat training today!! The rain has let up for now, so we're going outside!!" His voice booms. We all stand and make our way to the locker rooms. I pretty much ignore everyone on the way there, absentmindedly nodding my head at Ochaco and Tsu's discussion. Slipping into the locker rooms, I change quickly and head outside. 

The cement is slick with water and the smell of damp earth reaches towards me. It would almost be comforting in a way, if the smell of gasoline from the city below didn't also seep into the air.

"Yamada," I jump, hearing my name from behind me. I turn to see Shoji walking out of the building a few paces back. The immediate shock of hearing my name dissipates at the sight of him. 

I cock my head, silently asking him what he wants as he falls into step beside me. "I couldn't help but overhear what Bakugo was saying back there. I'm not here to pry about what's going on there, but he was fairly certain you were lying. Whether you were or not, I'd hate to think you're training on an empty stomach." One of his hands reaches out to offer me a granola bar. I look up at his face, his usually intense eyes, softened into a caring gaze.