Chapter Text
"Could you make your way to the P.E. Grounds after your lunch break? I need your help with something. I'll notify you of the specifics later before lunch."
"I would love to help, Sensei, but I have class—"
"I have already informed your homeroom teacher that I'll be pulling you out of class during final period, child. You need not worry about truancy." The teacher smiled, and the look was a tad bit creepy. The student shook his head, thinking how that was such a rude thing to think, let alone almost say, about a teacher.
"I see…" The student muttered, turning his gaze away for a moment to consider the proposition before meeting the teacher's eyes. "Okay, Sensei, I'll do it." The tension in the teacher's posture seemed to have deflated a little as she turned to walk back to class.
"Thank you, child. I see why Mr. Tanaka always praised your disposition," She shuts her eyes, stuffing her hands into her pockets as she walked away. "Don't be late for homeroom, I'm sure Tanaka wouldn't be very happy if you were."
"I… I understand, Sensei. Thank you."
*
"Wait, it's only day one. Aren't we supposed to have a normal orientation first, Sensei?" One of the students, Yuki Kobayashi, exclaimed. They were standing in the P.E. Grounds, twenty pairs of eyes staring at their homeroom teacher standing in front of them with her arms folded over her chest.
Shinya wasn't too sure what he was supposed to expect, having known that U.A. High had rather unorthodox methods for training their students. Even so, he too wasn't sure why they were on one of the school's many training grounds this early into the school year, watching their teacher's movements, trying to figure out what was going on.
"All right, class," The teacher, Yamamoto, declared, clapping her hands together to get everyone's attention. "You're all hero-course students, and I need to understand where your current limits are so that the school would be able to properly train you all to be ready for your careers in three years." She said, her eyes stony as they scanned the twenty students standing around.
Shinya stood next to Kobayashi, trying to keep his posture as neutral as he could. "So," Yamamoto said, a glimmer of excitement in her apple red eyes. "We'll be having a Quirk Apprehension Test today, and you will all go through eight different stations and your scores will be recorded. You'll each get a redo should you want one, but I would appreciate it if you gave it your all. They're exactly the same as the ones you had in middle school, but you are now allowed to use your Quirks to aid you."
Glancing around the field, Shinya smiled at what his eyes met. Yes, some of the stations were going to be a breeze with Foldabody's help. Yet, for some strange, unexplainable reason, he had a feeling something was going to go very, very wrong.
Very quickly, too.
There was just something about the way Yamamoto spoke that sounded like she was thinking about how much excitement she was going to garner from this, and how this might just be nothing more than a soap opera in her eyes.
Yet, nothing seemed out of place in this very unfamiliar field. Even the most observant eyes would say that everything was eerily—if the field were a person—prim and proper. Just in case, Shinya had told himself to watch out for any traps Yamamoto-sensei may have set up, despite the apparent spotlessness.
They first made their way to the 50-metre dash, and Kobayashi went up as demonstration. She smirked for a moment, the sole of her shoes glowing a brilliant golden, rollers appearing where they were previously flat as she got into position.
She seemed fairly confident she could secure a respectable timing, but the second the whistle went off and she pushed herself forward, her socks seemed to unravel into threads that bound her feet together, and she fell forward to the ground, managing to stop her face from making contact with the earth's surface only with the help of her palms pressing against the floor.
"What the—?" Kobayashi uttered, turning back slightly to glance at her bound feet. Gears appeared to be turning in her head, trying to understand what had just happened. When she came up empty-handed, she turned to look at Yamamoto, but even the teacher was expressionless.
Shinya watched this go down with his eighteen other classmates, his eyes wide at the display for he was sure it was a Quirk at play, as was everyone else. But nobody had shown signs of activating their Quirks in order to mess with Yuki's performance, and Yamamoto-sensei was unfazed.
In fact, on a second look, Shinya noticed that his teacher appeared almost… disappointed at Yuki's inaction. He watched his classmate push herself onto her knees, staring at her shoes like they had betrayed her. Then her gaze turned piercing and unfriendly as she refocused on glaring at her classmates.
"Which one of you thought it would be funny to mess with my demonstration?" She demanded, her teeth bared as she tried to untie the binding, only to discover that it seemed to be physically rebelling against her efforts. Shinya noticed this too, as he raised an eyebrow. Eventually, she conceded defeat to the sock overlords and threw her hands up into the air before dropping them to push herself up onto her feet.
She glared back at them one more time, and they all raised their hands above their heads, trying to get her to understand that they were just as confused as she was. They were all just as new to this weird, unfriendly situation as she was, yet some of them couldn't help themselves but chuckle under their breaths at her struggle.
Shinya watched as she huffed and started hopping her way to the finish line with a timing of 4 and a half minutes. The stopwatch Yamamoto-sensei had never stopped counting.
Almost instantaneously upon crossing the finish line, the binding around her ankles loosened and they started to restitch into the socks they had started as. Yuki hadn't been expecting this, and she once again face plants to the ground.
"Would you like a second try, Kobayashi?" Yamamoto asked, not bothering much to hide the disappointment in her tone, and a sigh could be heard faintly from somewhere near the training yard entrance, but nobody was present.
Yuki nodded, her face burning a brilliant red hue. As though accepting a redo was something to be ashamed of in an obviously rigged test. This time, nothing happened, and she made it through the dash with a time of 6.15 seconds.
This kept happening with each student—the first try would always end in disaster, with their Quirks being stopped when parts of their clothing started to rebel against them wherever their Quirk Factors happened to be located. If it was their hands or arms, their sleeves or gym attire would unravel in a split second and bind them. If it was their legs, their pants would do so instead, and, like Yuki, if it was in their feet, their socks would become their greatest enemy.
Then, the second try would be completely untouched, and they would be able to make it through the field with little to no disturbances.
Shinya had made sure to watch and pay attention. When it was his turn, he got into position, waiting for the whistle to go off. The second the noise sounded out, Shinya didn't bother wasting what nanoseconds he had before activating his Quirk.
"What…" He could hear that voice from earlier again. His competitor had been bound and was wiggling uselessly on the ground, trying to claw his way to the finish line. "He's agile…" The person the mysterious voice belonged to noted in the wind. "Like a needle put to fabric. He's just what they are looking for…"
A time of 5.25 seconds was respectable enough, but Shinya did hope to one day be able to use his Quirk in mere nanoseconds. His efficiency in the industry would greatly increase if he could pull that off. The moment he crossed the finish line, he deactivated his Quirk, turning back to see his classmate still battling his own clothes.
His eyes shifted to where Yamamoto was standing, and he could see her brows raised and eyes wide open. As though she had just seen something she had not expected to see. Then she smiled. Small, but genuine.
He had gotten her approval. Without intending to.
This mess repeats itself at every other station, and the entire class was getting frustrated the longer it went on. By the third station, Shinya could hear the evidence of classmates losing their temper as they screamed in frustration about how this test was tampered with, and was so obviously unfair.
All Yamamoto said was simple and straight to the point:
"How do you expect to become heroes if the slightest inconvenience is enough to expose your soul this blatantly?"
*
"Kamihara," Yamamoto called out after the period ended, stopping Shinya in his track, holding him back from heading off. "Mind if we share a word?" She asked, and the student didn't know what else to do but to nod, following her as she led him back to the homeroom.
The classroom was neat and tidy, desks arranged in a synchronised fashion, the late afternoon light filtering through half-open, frosted window panes. Shinya stood in front of his homeroom teacher, hesitant to say anything as her eyes bore into his soul.
"I must say," She started, turning around to wipe away the specks of lettering from the previous lesson conducted in the room. "You really impressed me earlier." Shinya looked up at that, questioning. Yamamoto laughed before grinning back at him. "You outmanoevred someone I was fairly sure couldn't be outran," She elaborated, shoulders shaking slightly as she continued laughing inwardly.
"So there really was someone else pulling all the strings?" Shinya huffed, asking. "But how come I didn't notice them?" He inquired, curiosity beating out any annoyance he had previously felt.
"That's my little secret, Kamihara," She winked. "But primarily, it was because I wanted to see how you load of new kids would respond in uncertain situations. See if you have what it took to be a hero, or if I would have to train it into you all," She shrugged. "Heroics aren't linear. You cannot expect to always know what your opponent is capable of. If you freeze to question what was happening and don't react—you're not yet ready for the harsh reality of the career." She said, resting a hand on her hip.
Shinya stayed silent, listening to what his teacher was saying. He could understand the rationale; he'd seen Pros on crime scene being thrown off by things. Perhaps that was part of the training school was supposed to provide, since there is always a good probability that one would end up having to jump into conflicts blind, relying on limited information and their own prowess to outsmart the opponent.
He still wondered, who really was it pulling the strings? Was it another teacher who just happened to have the period off? That sounded possible, yet if that were the case, it would be quite odd the Quirk had yet to show up to public knowledge when Heroes are basically glorified celebrities with more responsibilities.
*
Shinya was not having a good afternoon. Lunch break had only just begun, and he was striding his way through the halls in the opposite direction of the cafeteria, his lunch box in his carrier as he tried to hide his face in his scarf.
It had only been a few weeks into the school year, and his time in school was already going downhill. He bit down on his lower lip, walking through the classroom halls, trying to find an unused classroom to hide in until next period.
Soon, he stood in front of an unlabelled door, pressing his free hand to the surface. He pushed, and it came unlatched easily. Almost as though there was already someone occupying the classroom.
Shinya looked up, finding that the classroom lights have been flicked on and the window curtains drawn open, but was otherwise unoccupied.
Or so he thought.
He scanned the room, realising that there was, in fact, someone in the room. Sitting at the faraway desk near the row of windows on the other side of the room was a tall boy with blond hair. He didn't seem to have noticed Shinya standing at the door, the pen in his writing hand moving as he worked on something that appeared to be an assignment.
There was a sheet of fabric on the desk next to his pencil case. The boy turned to the fabric, finding it in a perfect square, and he sighed, his fingers moving rapidly as he tried desperately to force the threads to come apart. "You're still so weak, Hakamada," He scolded himself under his breath. "You're going to graduate at the end of this year, and for a rescue points-secured placement, you still haven't proven those voices wrong… it's been three years."
Shinya watched the boy's Quirk in action for a couple more moments, a part of him thinking to leave but was enthralled by the thread movements. Suddenly, a realisation hit him: that manipulation of threads appeared familiar… He thought for a few moments as to where he had seen it—The Quirk Apprehension Test Yamamoto-sensei organised on his first day! His eyes widened. So this was who had been messing with them at his sensei's request, Shinya thought.
Just then, the boy turned. His face was partially concealed by his elongated collar, but his teal eyes bore questions as his eyebrows furrowed. Shinya stared back, but the boy looked away, eyes returning to the assignment on the desk. Still, the boy spoke.
"What do you want?" He'd asked. Not rudely, nor politely. It was neutral, yet carried a manner of defensiveness.
"I…" Shinya started, unsure of what to say. "I don't mean to intrude," He said quickly, his free hand raising to tug at the red scarf around his neck.
The boy's eyes returned to look him up and down, noticing the lunch box before his expression softened ever so slightly. "You're trying to escape the lunch room, too, huh?" He asked, picking up the pen to continue writing, but there was something almost akin to pity in his voice, and Shinya hated it.
"I don't need your pity," Shinya spat out, but what he was returned with was something he didn't expect—a gentle laugh, albeit a mostly humourless one.
"I don't pity you," The boy said, having paused in what he was doing. Turning around in his seat, he faced Shinya, and the latter could see the recognition in his sharp green-blue gaze. "You must be from Yamamoto-sensei's homeroom." He guessed, and Shinya looked away.
"And you're the one who was messing with my classmates and me, causing us so much grief." Shinya muttered, but he found that this boy didn't seem to have a mean bone in his body. "But, could I join you? If not, I'll just look for another—"
He was interrupted by a baffled voice. "You want to join me?" Shinya properly looked at the boy now, and there was disbelief in his body language despite how gorgeous the boy was.
"If you'll let me." Shinya said, stepping in slightly, unsure of where he'd found his sudden surge of confidence.
"Of course," The boy responded, walking over to close the door. "And I'm sorry about what I agreed to weeks ago. Yamamoto-sensei always did have rather strange teachings." Shinya walked to the desk next to the boy's. Setting his lunch box down, he pulled out the chair.
"I suppose I have no reason to hold that against you," Shinya said simply. "I'm Shinya. Shinya Kamihara. First Year Heroics."
"Tsunagu Hakamada," The boy replies swiftly. Tsunagu, Shinya thought, trying to commit the name to memory. What a pretty name. "Third Year student. It is my pleasure to make you an acquaintance, Kamihara-kun."
What a polite soul, Shinya thought, honestly a little thrown off despite it being commonplace and expected. Tsunagu had turned away, his left hand hovering over the fabric square. When nothing happened, he sighed, resting his head against the palm of his hand, elbow on the desk as he stared out of the window forlornly.
"Could I ask what's that?" Shinya asked out of nowhere, leaning over, catching the older student's attention.
Tsunagu turned, addressing the first year. "Oh, this?" He asked, gesturing at the scrap of fabric. Shinya nodded. "It's just a piece of fabric my mother happened to have lying around that I was allowed to take," He said. "I'm guessing you already somewhat figured out what my Quirk is due to your Apprehension Test…" He sighed again, looking away.
"Not really," Shinya admitted, averting his gaze. "I just know it had something to do with clothes since you used it against my class." He said, and Tsunagu actually laughed half-heartedly.
"Clothes…" He smiled a little, chuckling.
"Am I wrong?" Shinya asked, his face heating up slightly at the mere notion that he might have been wrong.
"Oh, no, no," The upperclassman assured, but he seemed a little… Shinya didn't know… off, in a way. As though he didn't trust his own Quirk. "Clothes is one way to put it," Tsunagu said. "But it is really fibre manipulation." he said, glaring at the piece of fabric on the desk. "Not flashy, I know… and I know it isn't a Quirk you might consider to belong to anything in the heroics indus—"
"That's such a cool Quirk," Shinya interrupted, grey eyes fixated. "Why do you seem to not like your Quirk?" He asked, confused. "Even Yamamoto-sensei praised you," He recalled.
Tsunagu looked away, fingers tapping mindlessly against the table as he thought."I don't hate my Quirk," He said softly. "It's a variant of my mother's. I just haven't gotten full mastery of it, even though I'm in my third year now. I just…" He trailed off. "Nevermind."
Shinya kept his mouth shut, not saying anything. Not sure of what to say. "What about you?" Tsunagu suddenly asked.
"Huh?"
"What's your Quirk?" Tsunagu asked gently. "I remember you being the one to have evaded me," He smiled a little at the memory. "I thought it was interesting, and you're really agile, like a needle piercing fabric."
Shinya blushed a little, not knowing what to say in response to that. They spent the rest of the lunch period trading questions and answers, Shinya sometimes leaning over to see what the older boy was working on.
It didn't take long for the tension that once existed in the room to tear like a badly threaded stitch, and they seemed to genuinely be enjoying each other's company.
Then, the bell rang, and Tsunagu started packing his things back into his bag. "I'd like to hang out more, Hakamada-senpai," Shinya said, not knowing what had come over him. Maybe it was how easy it was to get comfortable in this older boy's company. A part of that unnerved Shinya, as he had never been one to think he could forge a friendship. "I'd like to get to know you more."
This time, the Third Year's smile was a little warmer, a little less forced. At least, that was what Shinya figured, the creases around the older boy's eyes noticeably less tense. "I would be… it would be an honour to continue knowing you, Kamihara-kun," He said. "I'm always in this classroom during lunch and after school."
They parted ways with a mutual wave of their free hands. Maybe high school can actually be a little more bearable than Shinya had come to believe, after all.