Gentleman - another Aoyama fic.

Don't be Merciless

At the start of the school year, Aoyama enrolled in class 1-C from U.A. High School's General Department. Maybe it wasn't as the hero course, but it was better than nothing. There was a mix of students filling the classroom; Half of his classmates were aspiring pro-heroes who failed the physical entrance exam as himself, such as the ever-quiet, Shinsou Hitoshi. While the other half was there to receive the best education from the best teachers. Not everyone wanted to be a hero, it seems.

The classes were nothing out of the ordinary. As he initially guessed, his teachers made the class learn mathematics with a level of difficulty according to their year, The history of Japan and hero society, moderately advanced Science and physics alike, literature, and English. The normal knowledge you'd expect from a decent educational place. They would also participate in P.E every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday to keep their bodies healthy and have a break from the usual classes. Sometimes they would even let them train their quirks. It was pretty good.

However, the French teenager still longed to be a hero, make his father proud if he was even watching him from the heavens, and help whoever needs to be saved. Yet with that fragile physique of his and his inherited quirk that doesn't even keep himself safe, what was he to do? Study hard, graduate with a decent qualification, find a job and perhaps a wife, form a family and force himself to have a mundane life where his light won't be seen, of course.

If only his body wasn't so feeble.

Oh well. The best he could do with his situation was to do his best to have a decent future and, who knows, maybe reform himself from being a buffoon to a person worthy of basic respect from his peers. Not everything was negative for him! As his father frequently said, "Unless we can face that which pains us, we can never truly sparkle!" He would be okay.

During his first weeks studying at U.A, he managed to score more or less decent qualifications. His preferred class was English, which was because it was quite easy to learn and pretty much an easy A for the foreigner. With his ever-present "V" smile, the juvenile blonde made his best attempt to get along with his classmates, yet whenever he tried to say something to them, his sparkly facade creeped them out, as he heard someone say more than once. Old habits die hard such as muscular memory, he soon found out. No one really talked to him unless it was necessary, except for Shinsou. Surprisingly, he was great when it came to interacting with people and always found a way to spark a conversation despite his usually quiet nature.

Neither of the two considered each other to be friends, as both of them "Didn't come here to make friends" they were just acquaintances who frequented to talk with the other to shake off some misery, as Shinsou once pointed. Aoyama was more than fine with that. They were moderately similar as well; Aoyama was distant to his peers, Shinsou was always a quiet one, Aoyama couldn't enrol in the hero course, neither could Shinsou, and both were basically stuck in general studies due to how useless their quirks are. Well, Aoyama didn't consider Shinsou's brainwash useless. It's just that more physical quirks tend to be more useful in most situations heroes face compared to mental ones and he relied too much on his quirk alone- really.

To be fair, Aoyama wasn't that much ahead of Shinsou when it came to melee combat and strength. And his quirk was far less self-destructive than his own.

The day Aoyama found out about Shinsou's quirk was on a Thursday of his third week. It was on lunch break when they were left alone in the classroom due to their mutual aversion to eating at the cafeteria filled with so many loud students.

To prove a point between the two, Shinsou convinced Aoyama to have an arm wrestle, even if the shiny blonde gave his opinion about how brutish that kind of competence was. They did it anyway. Placing his elbow on his desk, Yuuga grabbed his companion's rough hand with his more delicate one. When they deemed it alright to start, the two gave their best to push the other's hand against the table to choose a winner.