𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐄 | 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 | ✓

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔙𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔫

At 11:30 on Sunday night, Shinso finished his tiring shift at work and trekked home on the dark streets lit by amber street lamps. His phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out, he found a text from Aizawa.

get home safe, kid

Shinso sighed. It was nice to have Aizawa-Sensei looking out for him like a father, since his real dad was dead and his mother was an alcoholic who spent her days on the couch watching television in their shabby rented apartment. She'd been that way since her husband's death three years ago, and Shinso could blame her, even though he wanted to. So, it was up to him to work late night sifts at the movie theatre whenever he could cram them in. After all, those rent and electricity bills wouldn't pay themselves. At least he had a full education scholarship for General Studies at U.A. High.

Shinso rubbed his eyes. His hands smelled like overly-buttered popcorn. All he wanted to do was collapse onto his bed and get a few decent hours of sleep — he was exhausted. But he still had four chapters of his book to read for Literature class.

In his small bedroom, he tried to read the historical biography that the class had been assigned, but the words swam across the page and he couldn't concentrate. He let out a heavy sigh and shut the book. He could read it tomorrow... the test was on Tuesday...

☂

General Studies was as boring as any other high school in Japan, U.A. or not. The teacher droned on to an inattentive class 1-C, while Shinso stared off into space. He could hear 1-A's classroom across the hall, Bakugo arrogantly yelling, probably at that Midoriya guy. Shinso rubbed a finger under his eyes, touching the signature violet eyebags that seemed to be permanently etched there. The hero course seemed to have so much fun: field trips and camps... Even Class 1-B got to do some of those things. Shinso was undeniably jealous. If only the entrance exam had been suited to his qui—

"Care to answer number 9, Shinso?" The math teacher cut into Shinso's thoughts.

Shinso gave the sensei his trademark look: head slightly tilted, eyes half closed. "Not particularly, sensei."

The teacher sighed. "Please pay more attention next time." He called on another poor, unsuspecting student.

Shinso put his head on the desk. Lunch break couldn't come quick enough.

☂

The best part of Shinso's day way lunch time. He could grab a delicious helping of Lunch Rush's food and find Aizawa to eat with.

He knocked carefully on the door of the faculty room — the one time he didn't knock, he'd walked in on Aizawa and Present Mic making out on the lounge. The image resurfaced and he shuddered it away quickly.

"Come in," Aizawa called flatly. When he saw it was Shinso, his normally dead features lifted almost imperceptibly.

Shinso gave a slight bow of his head, a respectful habit. He sat across from Aizawa on the couch and balanced his tray on his lap. Picking up his chopsticks, he asked, "How's Eri?"

"Good," Aizawa nodded. "She seems happy, and she likes my cats." Shinso smiled at the mention of cats — he and Aizawa were fellow cat lovers.

"And Mic?" It was not exactly a secret that the two teachers were dating.

Aizawa narrowed his eyes slight. "Fine, but tell me about you," he prompted. "Have you made any friends?"

"No. Nothing to tell." Shinso shrugged. "Same old, same old."

"You can't stay in here with me every day, Hitoshi. You'll have to socialise eventually." Aizawa flicked his eyes down to Shinso's wrist for a millisecond.

Defensively, Shinso pulled his blazer sleeves down further, even though his arms were already covered. "I'm fine."

"I won't push you," Aizawa sighed, "but I don't want you to do something you'll regret later. Those scars last forever."

"I said I'm fine!" Shonso said emphatically, a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice. Stop acting like a shrink, he added silently.

The bell rang shrilly, announcing the end of lunch.

"Okay." Aizawa knew when to back down. "Get to class."

☂

Shinso's final class of that Monday was biology, and today he was assigned a lab partner for the dissection of a frog.

He walked over to his partner's table; her name was Ayano Ito, if he remembered correctly.

"Hey," he said casually.

"H—" she froze, remembering who she was talking to. "Um, I mean, I..."

Shinso looked down at the dead frog, on the table. "Sorry. It's fine."

They completed the class in silence.