#kenmono

AO3 Link: Here

Chapters: 1

Chapter 2: Acceptance

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“How was the test?” Father asked as the three of them sat at the dinner table eating. 

“Ok, I think I did fine,” Monoma said as he picked up a slice of meat.

“How were you graded?” Mother said. 

“Fought some robots. You get points the more you destroy. The harder the robot, the more points you get. The field was massive, pretty much a life-size city, and I think they had at least 3.” Monoma explained with patience, though he suspected this expositioning was boring the other audience with information they already knew. 

Mother hummed her assent. “I’m not surprised. U.A has a ton of money. More money than they need, really…” She ended her statement in a mutter. It sounded like constrained resentment to Neito. It probably was, but understandable. 

“Isn’t the ministry diverting more money towards your school, dear?” Father said. 

“Yes, I suppose. After years of appeals by the school committee. Hopefully I can obtain better equipment to teach those kids.” Mrs Monoma sighed, looking back towards Neito. “But I hope you get in, Neito. I have to admit, it’s really once-in-a-lifetime, and U.A will make you a fine hero.”

“Thanks, mother.” Neito smiled. A fine hero. The phrase did not apply to him, not in the societal nor linguistic sense of the word. A hero relied on himself to get the job done, at the end of the day. With what he had, that was an impossibility. 

“None of the other kids gave you trouble, did they?” Father asked, and Monoma winced on the inside, thinking about the events transpiring just after the test. 

“No, they were nice people,” He said. It was no lie, by technicalities. There was that girl, after all. Kendo, was it? She was nice. 

Father seemed to perk up at his answer, gladdened. “That’s good,” He gave an approving nod. “I’m glad they weren’t like your schoolmates.”

Neito waved his hand like an aristocrat at a banquet. “Nah, I think maybe those guys were just ––” He struggled for the proper word. “Lame.” He ended, and grinned internally at the apt description of his dialogue. But that smile died in the next instant when he thought about what he had wanted to say. 

Flat characters. A character with one dimension, owning a singular character trait to serve a purpose in a story. That’s what he called them, but not Mother. 

“About time kids your age learned some maturity,” She said, her ‘teacher’ side emerging. “Not you, Neito – of course. You’re a sensible boy. Apart from your silly theatrics, but you’ll grow out of it.”

There it is, He sighed, on the inside – or, aside. That was how the plays would state inner actions on the script. But Mother doesn’t like plays, does she now? 

“Neito, tell us about the fighting,” Father interjected with a smile that was a bit too wide, “What quirks did you use?” 

Neito gave a response, but his heart was no longer in the conversation, having been chilled by Mother’s own lovely warmth that she had no idea she was radiating. 

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The letter came a week later when his parents were at work. Neito opened it up in his room. After all, where else would he? Only in his room could he find solace. And on his bed, comfort, so he plopped himself down and opened the envelope. 

The contents contained a disc. A holographic. Taking it out and laying it on his bed, he pressed the blue button in the centre, producing a video on the wall.

It was the scene of an office, with a mouse sitting on a chair and a cup of tea on the glass table. He recognised the principal of U.A himself.

“Neito Monoma! Very good afternoon, or morning, or night, to you – depending when you see this, of course. On the off chance you are unaware of me, I am Nezu, principal of U.A High. This video is approximately 5 minutes long, but I will save you the suspense. You got in. Congratulations.”

His heart soared, and he pumped a fist in the air, breathing a sigh in much-desired catharsis. Had he been holding that in since the beginning? 

“You are, both celebrating – I would hope, and also wondering what the remaining 4 and a half minutes are about. Please do not ignore the rest of this video, because I want to review two things: your performance at the entrance exam, and your quirk. Take a look at this.” 

The video showed clips of Monoma from a birds’ eye view, running around and using his borrowed quirks, as well as him tapping random strangers. He noted how a lot of them turned their heads in evident surprise and puzzlement at him patting them on the shoulder or arm. And then the clip played of him taking a couple of points away from those guys. 

Nezu clucked his tongue. “Many in society would deem that as ‘un-hero-like’ behaviour, as it can be interpreted as stealing, or taking what does not belong to you. Criminal acts indeed, if the deed is severe and the stolen thing valuable. But, your quirk acts on that very principle of taking what does not belong to you.”

The (overwhelmingly intelligent, Monoma realised) mouse continued, “I’ve taken the liberty of reviewing your application and academics. You boast admirable grades in your middle school, and your form teacher commented that you were a highly observant, smart and mature student. I could go on, but you know what you’ve submitted. I will continue with that presumed knowledge.”

“You must have realised by now, or very early on in your career as a hero aspirant, that your quirk is unorthodox, having no use on its own. You require allies, or foes who you can lay a finger on, to fight. And even then, you must hastily adapt to whatever quirk you have under your control, for a period of time. Lots of limitations, Mr Monoma. A lot of challenges you have faced, are facing, and will face. And when you are initiated into my school, expect more.” Nezu took a sip of his tea.

“That’s not to say you will face difficulties many would describe as ‘hell’ at U.A. And neither does my previous statement imply U.A is not ‘hell’.” He paused. “Do excuse my roundabout mannerisms of speech. It is a bad habit of mine.” Nezu chuckled.

“Simply put, I have taken a personal interest in you, Mr Monoma, for your cunning, your intellect, and your quirk. Report to me after your first day of school. We will talk more then. Congratulations once more. Another letter will arrive tomorrow to inform you of the minutiae regarding your inception into U.A. Good day, Neito Monoma.”

The holographic faded out, and Neito was staring at a blank wall for a few seconds trying to process whatever Nezu had said.  

A buzz from his phone pulled him out of his hazy thoughts. He is...really smart. 

It was from Kendo. “Hi, Monoma, It’s Kendo! The girl with big hands. Wanted to ask you whether you received the letter from U.A.” 

He typed a response. “Yeah, I got a letter. What’s your verdict?” 

Fingers crossed. 

She responded, “I got in. >< You?” 

A smile spread across his face. “Same, that’s awesome. Congratulations.”

“YAY! :D We both did it! Congrats too! And I was so shocked that All Might was in the video! I nearly cried. Or maybe I did, idk. Sorry, I’m babbling at this point, but I don’t have anyone else to tell this to until my parents get home and I’m so hypeddd”

Huh? All Might? So Nezu specifically…

He typed, “It’s ok, I’m excited too. Though I don’t express it over text that much.” 

“Haha it’s ok. Can’t wait for the letter tomorrow. There’s so much to do! Hero costume, uniforms, books, all that. And term starts a month from now. Can’t wait!” 

“Wow, how’d you know all this?”

“Mainly from the internet. I was that hyped, y’know?”

He cracked another smile from her enthusiasm. It was oddly contagious, and he found himself more zealous to go to school. That was a statement he’d never think he could formulate in his mind. “I see. That’s cool.”

“Btw, if you wanna go celebrate with your family or friends, go ahead! I don’t wanna hold you back.”

“Nah, my parents are at work and I’m basically alone at home. Same boat as you. So, fire away.”

“Ah, ok!” 

The conversation continued with Kendo gushing about their new life, and Monoma passively followed along, inserting a few comments here and there. But he didn’t feel like he was stuck at a family reunion forced to endure his grandfather’s stories with a placating smile and affirming nods peppered in occasionally. She was actually interesting, and amusing, in a good way. 

The topic was centered around school and academics, with little butting into personal lives, and Monoma didn’t pry. She was still a stranger, somewhat, albeit she would be his new schoolmate – and perhaps classmate. He crossed his fingers again, hoping that Fate would tap him lightly on the head once more with her providence. 

He smiled when Kendo typed, “Hope we become classmates :D. Apparently there are always 2 first-year classes. So it’s basically a coin flip.”

“Heads.” 

“Rly? Do you always choose heads?”

“Yeah.” 

“I’m more of a switcher.”

“How do you decide when to choose heads or tails then?”

“Coin flip.”

“That made me laugh, thank you.”

“Why do you need to thank people for making you laugh? It’s a spontaneous thing.”

“That’s...oddly profound.”

“Or just a dumb statement made to sound fancy. Ah, sorry, I have to go now. But thank you for your time. It was great chatting :)” 

“Why do you need to thank people for chatting with you? It’s a spontaneous thing. Joking aside, thank you too.”

“Nice haha” Was her last message. Neito turned his phone off and lied down on his bed. A moment passed, and Neito took a coin from his study desk. It was a silly thing to do, but his room was his stage. He was performing for himself. 

He gave it a toss and caught it. 

Seeing the result, he grinned.

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Yeek, this took longer than it should have, sorry. Had a bit of writer’s block when it came to planning this thing and I wasn’t sure how to move on. Also the tone of this is especially terrifying for me because it’s definitely going to be (ironically) more light-hearted, with Monoma’s dramatic language and (side thoughts) occasionally inserted, but that brings the challenge of need. When to do that, when not to. This story is a personal challenge to change my narrative style just slightly. 

Anyway, I hoped you MonoKendo ppl liked it. A lot of people have told me it’s unfortunate the ship lacks content and I couldn’t agree more. But then again, that’s about 75% of the ships out there. (Fk it, 90%). So, here’s my contribution, alongside some other one-shots. 

Brain: Zombie AU where one dies in the end.

Me:

AO3 Link: Here

Chapters: 1, 2 

Chapter 3: First Meetings

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A fresh start. 

A lot of people like to say that, do they not, usually on their first day at a new school, a new job, whatever. These new people didn’t know who you were, after all. It bestowed a rare opportunity to change yourself in a way that people who did know you would find strange. 

In other words, taking off one mask and donning another. 

How many masks had he worn in middle school alone? One for his teachers, one for his classmates, one for friends he didn’t consider friends. He was sure the feeling was mutual. Perhaps the shape of the masks were different for each one to cater to what they wanted to see, but they shared the same colour – the colour of the background. Like a chameleon, he fit in. For four years, all he did was fit in. 

He hated nearly everything about that life he had lived in supplication. He had donated his old uniforms to his school in the same week he had graduated. It had no place in his wardrobe. 

The new uniform was unexpectedly comfortable despite the formality and prestige of it all. It was cliche, but he felt a tad prideful by simply wearing it. Everyone who saw it knew he was: a student of U.A, the grandest hero school in Japan boasting standards as high as the hill on which it was built. 

Was this uniform going to be donated as well when the three years were up? Another three years spent in silence, in the background, while the main characters paraded themselves onstage?

He didn’t want history to repeat. It could not repeat. 

He looked at himself a last time in the mirror, before he left his room. Try not to think about it.

————

He slid open the classroom door to see two students standing up, mid-conversation. One of them was sporting a recognisable orange ponytail. His lips formed a tiny smile. Guess I won that toss. 

She turned around to see who had entered, and her face lit up as well. She smiled and waved, while the green-haired girl that she was talking to looked to see who he was. 

He plopped his bag on a random desk and walked up to them with a curt greeting. She stuck her hand out for a high five, which he took. 

“Nice, guess we are classmates.” Kendo said. 

“You guys know each other?” The other girl’s eyes flickered between the two.  

“Ah, sorry. Tokage, Monoma. Monoma, Tokage. We met during the entrance exam.” 

“Pleased to meet you.” Monoma offered his hand. 

Tokage didn’t seem to move an inch, and he was about to be act affronted when he saw Tokage’s hand detach from her arm and shake his. He took a step back as the girl giggled. 

“Setsuna Tokage. Sorry, just a habit of mine when meeting new people.” Her hand floated in the air, waving, before flying back to reattach itself to her. 

Kendo was grinning as she glanced at Neito with a knowing look. 

“I see.” Monoma gave a grin of his own as the familiarity of his quirk registering hers flowed through his hands. He felt a strange airy sensation as his left hand popped off his body and gave a wave back. 

“What the hell?” Setsuna scrambled back, pressing up against the wall. Itsuka barked out a laugh. “You have a similar quirk?” 

Monoma reattached his limb, which took more effort than he thought it would. “Nah, my quirk copies others.”

“It got me the first time too,” Kendo said. 

“That’s sick,” Setsuna gaped. 

The door slid open again, and the three turned to see an imposing figure in the doorway wearing a crimson suit. 

“Only three of you?” He counted the number of people in the room. “That’s disappointing.” He strode to the centre of the room while the trio looked at each other with wide eyes, none of them willing to speak to the stranger. Luckily, as though he had read their minds, the man introduced himself. 

“I’m Vlad King, your homeroom teacher. What are your names?” 

Itsuka spoke up first. “I’m Itsuka Kendo, sensei.”

“Setsuna Tokage.” 

Vlad King appraised her with a look as he heard her name. “Recommendations student, huh? I look forward to seeing what you’ll do later.”

Itsuka and Neito looked at her incredulously, but Setsuna only returned a sheepish grin. “Wasn’t sure how to bring it up.”

“And you, young man?”

“Neito Monoma, sir.” 

Vlad King gave a gruff nod. “Take your seats first. I don’t mind you guys talking. We’ll start when everyone is here.”

As Monoma took his place, a thought crossed his mind about the exchange between Tokage and the teacher. What did he mean, later?

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Later turned out to be a test, on the very first day of school. Brilliant.

At least Vlad King was nice enough to allow them to attend the opening ceremony, which according to Tokage, the other hero class skipped because their homeroom teacher didn’t think it was “rational”. 

The ceremony was nice. Principal Nezu had given a speech to welcome the newcomers as well as the returning seniors. He introduced the teachers for the various subjects aside from heroics, aside from Aizawa-sensei whom Monoma presumed was Class 1A’s homeroom teacher. But the main event was heralded with a familiar booming laugh that sent the school into a craze, as All Might himself was announced to be joining the school as a heroics teacher. 

Monoma should have felt more enthusiasm or described it as such, but he somewhat expected it, given how Kendo told him All Might had sent the welcome letter. Furthermore, he had no wish to be a part of the group of people acting like monkeys. It seemed that U.A was just like any other school when it came to the maturity of its students. So much for prestige. 

Another reason he was narrating this with less energy than he should have, when the number one hero was teaching him, was what came after the welcome ceremony. The Quirk Apprehension Test. 

In short, Monoma performed like a fish flopping on land. Not that he wasn’t trying. Itsuka gladly let him borrow her quirk for the Softball Throw and Grip Strength stations, which he appreciated, but a lot of his classmates’ quirks just didn’t seem appropriate for the other six, or they were quirks he couldn’t use, or too complex to use, like Tokage’s. 

As he watched her split herself up and fly across the gym – a swarm of green, disproportionately sized bees – he knew he had no chance to replicate that much skill with her quirk. Detaching his hand earlier was a party trick that demanded enough concentration. It was no wonder she was admitted on recommendations.

Hence, he found himself at the mercy of his frail, untrained body, which was partially his fault anyway. He was heaving for air by the time the last station – the Long Distance Run, concluded. Meanwhile, he saw how a lot of his classmates seemed somewhat unfazed. They looked tired, but not as much as him. Seeing this, he struggled to maintain his composure so as to not have himself pegged as the weak, scrawny kid on the very first day. 

Even though Vlad King concealed the results of the test, Neito could tell he was at the bottom for most of them. His classmates probably came to the same conclusion too. Great start. Thankfully, the first day of school was finished with that test, aside from a last piece of instruction to pick up their curriculum. 

But it wasn’t over for Neito, even as the school day ended with the students packing their bags in class before leaving. He was packing his when he looked up to see Itsuka. 

“Hey Monoma, you wanna come with us? We’re heading to the station.” Itsuka gestured to a group of classmates. How had she made so many friends? Neito had only talked to a couple throughout the day, and they were still basically acquaintances.

“Uh, you guys go ahead, I have somewhere to be, sorry.” Neito rubbed his hair, evading eye contact with Kendo. 

She seemed to take it well, or so it looked. He couldn’t decipher if she was disappointed, or indifferent, or actually amiable about it. Why would she be disappointed, she’s made other friends. You’re not that important.

“No problem, see you tomorrow!” She smiled gave a wave which Neito returned, and the group departed, leaving him with a bitterness inside. He wished he didn’t have to meet Nezu. 

Alone in the classroom, he turned off the lights and closed the door behind him. To Nezu’s we go.

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“Ah, Mr Monoma, come in. Take a seat.” Nezu sipped on another cup of tea. Neito made himself comfortable on the leather seat in front of his desk. 

“I don’t want to hold you back. This meeting should take roughly ten minutes. Let’s start immediately.”

With Neito’s nod, Nezu began, “If I might inquire, what are your motivations in aspiring to be a hero?” 

“Um...same as everyone else. Helping others, keeping the peace, stuff like that.”

Nezu’s eye contact did not waver throughout Monoma’s answer. He wondered what the principal was thinking. He soon found out.

With the bluntness and force of a hammer, Nezu replied, “I see. I understand that this is our first time meeting in person, so it’s only natural that the lack of built rapport would affect your answer. If you would wish to tell me your full answer in the future, I would be very grateful. Thank you, nonetheless.”

Monoma shuddered in his seat, his ears heating up. Though Nezu didn’t seem like he meant to shame him. 

“Moving on, I trust that you are a mature young man, able to take my following comment with the apt amount of gracefulness.”

In a chirpy voice, Nezu delivered a sentence that rung like a death knell. “You did not, initially, pass our entrance exam.”

Two seconds passed, and in those two seconds a tidal wave of emotions and thoughts tore through Neito’s mind. Was he going to be expelled, and all of this was some sick joke? That wasn’t possible, right? It was illogical. What merit was there in humiliating him? 

“I – I see.” A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead. Then he continued, when Nezu seemed to look at him with some expectancy. Was this a test? An interview to judge his worth as a U.A student? “But I’m here, so I – I assume you have a reason for that?” 

Nezu hummed, and Monoma wondered whether there was a scratch of approval in his voice. “Officially, and practically, students are given a score on their combat and rescue ability. Defeating the machines nets you points, but so does helping your opponents, like your peer Ms Kendo demonstrated in the fight.”

“That’s all well and good, but I suspect that you have criticised this grading system, in your mind at least, for its shallow and superficial awarding of points. And you would be correct. What’s to stop a candidate from stealing points from other candidates, or even intentionally harming others?” 

Monoma thought that was a rhetorical question, until a few seconds passed in silence that he realised Nezu was waiting for an answer. “Um, that would be a hero-like behaviour expected from all of us.”

With a nod, the principal continued, “Exactly. And that is the main criteria. Every action performed by each candidate has to be asked, ‘Was that what a hero would do?’ So now I turn to you to ask, Mr Monoma, were yours?” 

Heat rose to Monoma’s ears, a concoction of embarrassment and anger. So this is a discipline session now? 

No, he wants something else. He wants me to fight for my spot. 

“No, maybe not, but it’s as you said,” Neito said, straightening up in his chair. There was a glimmer in Nezu’s beady eyes as he did so, “My quirk’s unorthodox, so I have to do what I can. And perhaps it isn’t fitting to take my peers’ points, but if you were watching us all, through surveillance I assume, then wouldn’t you have spotted instances where I stole points? That means you could have simply denied me the points and awarded them to the other candidates anyway.”

Nezu grinned. “That is correct.”

“But I didn’t make the cut, with or without the stolen points, because you saw something else in me. If I didn’t pass the entrance exam, I passed your own examination to get in.”

“Hmm, a bold statement, Mr Monoma,” Nezu said, causing Neito to falter, “But I admire your audacity. You are partially correct. I’ve said in your letter that I saw an intelligence inside you that I felt had potential to be furthered in this school. You might not be at the standard now, but with my tutelage, you will reach it one day.”

“I’m sorry, your tutelage?”

“That’s correct.” Nezu passed him a piece of paper. “Just because I’m a principal doesn’t mean I’m not a teacher. I was just discouraged from doing so because students were...intimidated by my style. I hope you will think differently.”

“Of course.” Monoma did a quick scan of the contents before looking back up.

“It’s a new schedule, and an additional curriculum of my choosing. Think of it as supplementary lessons to make up for the gap between you and your peers, who have all passed the entrance exam. You’ve a lot to learn, Mr Monoma.” Nezu finished his tea and stared at him, eyes flashing. 

Neito swallowed. “I’ll do my best, sir.” 

“Oh, call me sensei from now on. That will be all, Mr Monoma, you may leave.”

Neito stood up and bowed. As he walked away, a question came to him. He turned back. 

“Sensei, am I allowed to disclose this to my classmates?”

“That will be at your discretion, I would not be affected by either outcome.”

Monoma nodded and left. 

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Art Trade with a DEAR friend!