* PLAY / DUMB.

     it’s astonishing at first, really.   but you let the details sink in. blood’s thicker than water indeed but there’s nothing thicker than the chronicle of walls painted red and wails of i never wanted to look like him. i never wanted to carry his legacy.    denki has it. you can see it in his eyes : almost like he’s begging for it despite the monotone wording.  this command seemed more like a plea.   to be completely frank, it almost seemed aggravating, his lack of hesitation, the want to peel the one thing you’ve wanted your entire life that you couldn’t have off.  but .. you understood. 

    if anything, it’s only proving this poison’s purpose. the remedy to a virus everyone takes as a blessing.     maybe that’s one step closer to becoming an actual hero.

     ❛   indeed i can. though, it’s, uh, not exactly the kindest process– it takes a bullet. or a serum. whatever you want. it’ll erase the quirk permanently from your dna and you won’t be able to use it anymore.   ❜    how … this information was inquired would be set aside for a better conversation later on.    ❛   of course, i’ve not tried it myself, but there are some side effects that’ll render the process painful; so heads up for that. there’s no going back, kaminari denki.  do you really want this?  ❜   you’d get it either way but there’s nothing wrong with being too early.  

          you watch his reaction cautiously,  subtle fear lingering in the back of your mind that he’d refuse.  that he’d tell someone.  that he’d cut off your small act of rebellion against the person who took your childhood away from you,  the person that shaped you into a liar  /  a traitor  /  a villain.  but he doesn’t,  and you relax just a little,  though you still keep an eye on him.  you don’t think you know analyzer well,  you don’t know if anyone really does,  and you keep that in mind as he speaks.

family affairs are a nasty, multi-headed beast. shouto knows this intimately, first hand. it is a whole separate experience to witness the suffering of someone else going through it. his rage boils hot under his skin, an ugly reminder of his own father. it is not his place to get involved. especially here, like this, when he has a part to play in all of this that transcends his personal feelings.

that logic is enough to still his instincts to act immediately and delay them into cleaning up the aftermath. least, it is after he makes the mistake of getting in the way first ; earning himself a couple war wounds to serve as reminders. it is also, oddly enough, the reason he had started carrying emergency first aid supplies on his person when he wasn’t dressed in his hero costume. villains, as it turns out in shouto’s experience with them as well, are just as messy with their internal conflicts as heroes. how’s that for the blindness of glorifying ideals?

he dabs an alcohol wipe against a scrape on denki’s hand that will probably heal fine without a bandage and offers him one anyway, for the time being. “ i don’t have a cold compress… for the swelling but i could…? ” the fingers on his right hand twitch in denki’s direction, making the point of his offer. / @actstupid

     eyes are stuck to the ground,  hands resting atop his knees as he goes through an attempt to calm himself.  his eyes still sting but he bites back tears in some attempt to make things seem better than they actually are.  but bruises are still blooming on his skin and the sting of alcohol against scrapes just barely keeps him grounded in this reality as opposed to disconnecting from himself entirely.

     he almost jumps at the sound of shouto’s voice,  and there’s a slight pause before he looks up at him.  he feels like he looks like a deer in the headlights,  not expecting the offer.  he’d even been a bit resigned to passively let shouto do what he felt necessary.  a flicker of his gaze to the boy’s hand,  he sees it twitch a little,  then back to his face before he nods,  scooting a little closer so that he can reach.

     it’s unthinkable enough that you hesitate as you stand before the analyzer.  you aren’t sure if what you’d heard was true,  they don’t give you as much information as you’d like to have,  but the thought of losing a connection to your father is too tempting to pass up.  it’s a small act of rebellion,  to want your own quirk destroyed for the sake of getting back at a man who’d ruined your life.

          THE ACRID SMELL of burnt skin and melted fabric was something that wouldn’t depart from you for some time. A winding snare of scarred skin on your left forearm wrapped loosely in sickly white gauze bares your pains to the world. An encounter over the weekend, a new type of chemical weapon against heroes. You presumed you were one of the first to experience it judging by the silence of it’s existence in the news or your circle of confidants.        Luckily for you, Recovery Girl seemed confident that another few treatments will virtually eradicate the scarrings existence.         But that wasn’t what you were worried about…

                  Like VIPERS coiled in your gut, your suspicions had been growing, thoughts and movements watched like a hawk  scorned  from across hallowed halls.         Your hunch was a bitter flavor laced like arsenic across your teeth, a wonder you’d never hoped to have about your own charges. But that fragile, carnal look in young eyes at the slip of bandage and the smell of chemical burns had you holding your breath. The slight shake in returned papers, the avoidance for eye contact  –  Too many years of never letting the slightest things slip past you, and you wished you’d have missed it,       just this once.

       A war waged internal over the cleanest way address your concerns. An uncomfortable feeling of dread turning your insides to ASH and raging through your lungs like a storm. You don’t want to believe in the hunch you were carrying, you didn’t want to entertain the possibility of a tear in your heart over a TRAITOR walking at your side, putting everyone at risk.          You try not to think of the gut wrenching FEAR and the brittle fuel of determination that was the only thing standing between some of your students and death at USJ. ( You try not to trace the scar under your eye with a nauseous feeling. )  You push down the thought of your failure at the training camp, the limp bodies on stretchers, the missing blonde in the head count    –    Everything that came after…

                                  YOU WANT TO LIVE BLISSFULLY IN IGNORANCE.

            The boy sat before you, soft freckles like stars behind bleached blonde locks and the eyes of a youth barely half lived. A pain, sharp and gripping, pierces your heart.    He’s too young for this.   And for once in your life you wished you were WRONG so badly your knuckles whited on your desk, gnarled bone and askew joints pale against the wood grain. It takes you a moment to find your voice, swimming instead in his own tone, trying not to wonder where you went wrong with him…

           “ It’s not about your grades, Kaminari.                                       I want to talk with you HONESTLY and CONFIDENTIALLY.

            I NEED you to tell me everything.    I need you to tell me the truth. ”

               WHO ARE YOU, KAMINARI DENKI ?    WHO DO YOU WANT TO BE ?

          your mind moves too quickly,  anxiety making itself a background noise to every thought of your cover being blown.  it’s intrusive,  the way you can’t help but think he knows,  he knows,  he knows every time you even glance at the hero before you.  your gaze flits from object to object around the room,  unable to focus on one thing for too long.

                                  you feel trapped,  and there’s no way out.

          and then you receive your confirmation,  this is it,  a moment you started dreading after USJ.  shoulders tense,  and your wandering gaze freezes on nothing in particular as the words bounce around your head,  tearing through any other thought you’d had prior.   ‘  i want you to tell me the truth.  ‘.   that one phrase throws you into disarray and you can’t even begin to think of how to respond.  is there even any salvaging this?

          there’s a sickening feeling in the back of your throat,  like you’re suffocating.  months worth of guilt claws its way into your chest and you can’t stop it.  deception should have been easy,  but the attachments formed before you realized,  the warmth and care of a class blissfully unaware of your background pulling you in all too easily.  maybe you were doomed to fail from the start.

          that doesn’t stop you from trying to keep up the lie.  fear outweighs guilt,  terror created from an entire lifetime of seeing firsthand what people like  THEM  could do.  seeing all the heroes they’ve killed,  even innocent civilians who were in the way.  you don’t want to be another casualty in their path of destruction,  not with what they can do.  you could never hope to stand up to them alone.  silently accepting your role as a villain is the only thing you’ve ever known.

                  Sero felt like he had to be okay. This wasn’t his problem – it wasn’t his place to feel bad. The real victim in this was Denki. To try and steal the spotlight for his own miserable feelings would be a selfish thing to do. So he’d continue to smile, continue to act like everything was okay, continue to keep his secret. It was the least he could do to protect him.

                  Sometimes it felt like the only thing.

                  The patterns on his back were comforting and he relaxes a little, enjoying the small moment for what it was. “ I’m fine. Still keeping my promise. ” He pauses. Should he even ask how Denki’s holding up? Would it be insensitive? He doesn’t know – he’s so confused. He’s always so confused. “ I stayed up late practicing my kanji so I’m a little tired. How about you? ”

          the patterns freeze for a moment when sero mentions the promise.  it’s there,  and he’s thankful for it,  but he doesn’t like thinking about it.  there’s a sense of guilt that comes with unintentionally forcing a friend to be your accomplice in something that will get you arrested in the end that denki doesn’t like.  on the other hand,  fear outweighs the guilt and keeping quiet about it all is the only option he thinks he has.

                   He’s quiet for a few moments, head pats turning into gentle fiddling with the tips of Denki’s hair. He’s there – he’s good. He’s okay. “ No. I just wanted to be close to you. ” 

                   Denki probably knew how it was by now – Sero was overly affectionate with his friends. With him, though, he felt as though he needed to be. He wanted to support him, to make him feel better. But most of all, it was for Sero. Sero wanted to know he was okay, to know that he was still there with him, to know that things can still be good. 

               he can feel sero mess with the ends of his hair and he leans into the affection just a little bit---   it’s taken a while to get used to,  but he’s found that he definitely enjoys it.  still,  despite knowing how affectionate his classmate is,  he can’t help but feel there’s a reason behind it,  a motivation to just pile on more and more affection.   “  oh.  okay.  “

          open.

                  Sero kinda just wraps his arms around them, pulling them into a firm hug. He pats their head gently. His face is so serious.