Shinsou’s not a conversationalist- not by a long shot. But when his angsty friend seems to think a boy in their class is cute? Oh boy, he’ll try his best.
And if it goes to hell- well, that’s the intention, isn’t it?
“Hey, Kat-suck-it.” Shinsou speaks up, a trace of mischief lining his tone in a way that reminds Bakugou of smoke drifting up lazily to meet a fire-alarm, seconds before the shrill ring of panic.
“What, pray tell, do you want, Hito-shit?”
Hitoshi puts on his best radio show host impression (it’s shit- he doesn’t possess nearly enough enthusiasm. Guys like Present Mic had more energy contained within a single eyelash than Shinsou had in his entire body). “I’m here to provide you with hot-takes from the lives of the infamous Kat-suck it and Hito-shit. This just in- you’re really fucking gay, my guy.”
Bakugou was so busy trying not to choke on his own saliva that he almost forgot to be angry. Almost.
“Okay, One- that’s bisexual. Two- what the fuck?!”
“Allow me to elaborate.” Shinsou continued, still using the shitty radio host voice, because there was no going back now. “You, Bakugou Kat-suck-it, are showing the early signs of a blossoming same-sex attraction towards a human being that we encountered at some time during this fine day. This boy- whom we have yet to be told the name of- has questionably-styled red hair, shark teeth, and I smile I do believe you found to be rather attractive, did you not?”
Bakugou spluttered abashedly- embarrassment not so carefully hidden now that it’s just the two of them at his house- and Hitoshi knows he's won this round, at least. “Dude, how the hell and fuck did you reach that conclusion?”
“Bakugou,” he starts with a deadpan stare, suddenly dropping the voice because he's given up (its hard to even pretend to have that much energy- how the fuck do people do it?). “Bakugou, there was a gay thing in the look in your eyes when he complimented you. I genuinely think you're going to be attracted to this boy. Trust me, I know everything. Always.”
Katsuki scowls and averts his gaze, blush evident on his face. “Yeah well, I don’t even know what this guy’s like yet. I don’t even know his name right now. We’ll see how it goes for now, I guess.”
Shinsou smiles, and it’s a simple, real thing. “Whatever makes you happy, Kats.” he says honestly, and then decides to ruin it by adding: “But if and/or when you start dating, I'm going to have to have a… talk with him about what purple-haired bitches do if you break their angry Pomeranian friend’s heart.”
“Fuck you!” Bakugou shouts. He’s smiling, though. And there’s a pillow trying to make-out with Shinsou’s face now, but it’s worth it.
Mitsuki would be proud.
The next day, they shoulder their school bags, and their duffel-bags of nightmares (well, nightmares to anyone who isn’t Shinsou or Bakugou), and walk the distance to Yuuei together. They come across the red-headed boy again on their way up to the gate. Bakugou’s resting scowl deepens at the sight of him, as if remembering last night’s conversation. Shinsou’s known the guy long enough that he can confidently interpret that as embarrassment- or the light fluttering of the stomach that comes with knowing you're facing someone who could very well be out of your league.
Shinsou, ever the social butterfly, is the one to initiate the conversation.
“Hey- so, we never actually got your name yesterday. You mind telling us?”
“Oh! I didn’t? Sorry about that! I'm Kirishima Eijirou!” Kirishima said enthusiastically, with just a trace of awkwardness.
“Oh, nice name.” Shinsou replies coolly, as if he's been politely conversing his whole life. “You got a good quirk to go with it?”
Kirishima’s eyes shone, as if this was something he could actually talk about. “Yep! It’s called Hardening!”
“Sounds badass.” Bakugou commented, finally.
Yeah, you go get your might-be man, you crazy chihuahua.
Kirishima went pink. “Th-thanks!”
Oh yes. This is happening.
The three of them arrive at the classroom together in comfortable silence (when had they started walking?).
After a quick goodbye, Kirishima rushes off to go talk to the pink one, flex tape, and Pikachu. Bakugou smirks gently and Shinsou knows that that’s his version of a very gay smile.
“So, Kat-suck-it- are we just gonna stand here and watch your blossoming affection for this boy develop? Or are we gonna sit down and get stuff done?”
Bakugou growls embarrassedly, gaze still half-following Kirishima as he talks animatedly to his friends. “You’re a little shit and I hate you.”
“That’s a lie because you’re a liar, and my little shit in crime. But come on and sit down.”
Bakugou appears puzzled as he sits down at his desk next to Shinsou. “Little shit in crime?”
“Like a partner in crime- but we’re little shits in crime.” Shinsou explains. Bakugou nods his head slowly, still not fully understanding.
Aizawa-sensei (it’s fucking Eraserhead I’m gonna cry) chooses that moment to walk in, yellow sleeping-bag tucked under his arm (I literally could not care less about the sleeping-bag- it’s fucking ERASERHEAD). He talks about how the Hero-Course obviously isn’t going to be hero work and hero work alone, because this is still a school, and they still need to be able to do things other than fight villains and rescue people.
Having said that, the man walks off, and is then replaced by a much more energetic Present Mic, who was going to be teaching them English. He learned some shit and all, but the majority of the time was spent wondering what the fuck the Pro-Hero had given Satan in return for that much energy.
Also, where the fuck are his nose-holes? Oh my God, he gave Satan his nostrils. Hang on- how is that a fair deal? That can’t have gone down very well. Just ‘oh hi Satan! I want to be the living embodiment of a sugar-high, and in return I will give you my nostrils’. And he just… agreed? Poor Satan, must be having a hard time down there-
“Oi! Hito-shit, wake the fuck up! Class is over!”
It takes Shinsou a moment to realise that he was beginning to sympathise with the literal Devil. It takes him even less time to shoulder his stuff, repress the shit out of whatever that was, and run out of the door to their next class. It was Modern Literature, if he was right.
Shinsou takes notes like the perfect student he is- mind half on the work and half on the reoccurring question of how the ever-loving hell did someone give birth to a sentient wall? Was he born like that? Or did he just turn into a weird cement thing when his quirk came in? What if he actually looks like a human person, and he's just covered himself in cement? Wait- can he manipulate his own body? CAN HE DISMEMBER HIMSELF WITH HIS QUIRK?
Obviously, he doesn’t ask, because that’s probably rude (he's not really sure, but better safe than sorry this time)- but the thought just won’t go away.
Good God, he's going to be seeing these heroes for his entire time here. He's going to have to get used to this real quick. Some questions are better left unanswered, anyway.
By the time lunch rolls around, Hitoshi’s already resigned himself to the fact that there's a baffled internal screaming fit coming his way as soon as he's out of school for the day. And then he meets Lunch Rush, who wasn’t there yesterday for whatever reason, and please tell me he has a fucking head under there. Can he even see? Why would you wear a hat over your whole face? It’s a hat- that’s not what hats are for, for God’s sake-
He manages to shake himself out of his stupor before he gets to the front of the line, thank fuck. And as soon as he takes the first bite of food, he realises that he doesn’t even care what’s underneath the damn chef hat- because this is the best shit he's ever put in his mouth (not in a weird way). He almost fucking moans (again- not in a weird way), but he knows for sure that Bakugou would never let him live it down.
“Well fuck me sideways, this is some good shit.” Bakugou mumbles after he's finished chewing, because he's a bastard but he's not an impolite bastard (more or less). “Finally, some good fucking food.”
(They’d been watching a lot of that British guy, Gordan Ramsay, lately- sue them.)
Shinsou says nothing in return, he simply nods and greedily devours the rest of the meal in front of him.
Lunch came to a close, and with it came the beginnings of their History class with Snipe.
Of fucking course we’re doing cowboys and shit. Look at this man- he's a cowboy nerd.
Shinsou and Bakugou had been taught the specifics of these particular cowboys in middle school. And even though they still took notes, they use the time to have a brief written conversation. Shinsou passes a slip of paper to Bakugou from underneath the desk.
So, Kat-suck-it- what do u think of our new teachers?
Bakugou writes his reply beneath.
They’re fucking weird, but they know shit so, that’s cool, I guess. You’ve been off today tho, what’re u thinking about?
Hitoshi takes a moment to contemplate the question.
When Bakugou requests an elaboration, Shinsou sighs and quickly scribbles down a short explanation.
Present Mic’s enthusiasm and lack of nostrils- I put two and two together and came to the conclusion that he made a deal with Satan so he could have energy instead of nose-holes. In Modern Literature I was trying to figure out how the fuck someone gives birth to a living block of cement. At lunch, I wanted to know if Lunch Rush had a face, but then I didn’t care because the food was fucking fantastic. And now we know that Snipe is a cowboy nerd. Go figure.
Bakugou reads the note over, and he almost laughs.
Fucking hell, Hito-shit. You’ve had a wild fucking day, haven’t you?
Shinsou doesn’t bother to reply, simply nods at his friend with a pained grin on his face. Katsuki reciprocates the grin, albeit with a little less anguish.
That class ends soon after, and then comes Art and Art History. Shinsou’s been half dreading seeing Midnight’s uncomfortably sexual costume, and he can tell Bakugou feels the same way. Reluctantly, they walk through the door together, and are met with Midnight herself, standing in front of a rather impressive still-life painting.
Surprisingly, the class ends up being the most normal one of the day (for Shinsou, at least). They end up having to pick up an object from the front of the class and draw it as Midnight talks about some of the most famous still-life artists. And while Shinsou’s rough sketch of a mug isn’t really very much, she seems to be rather pleased with him.
“Look at you, you little artist! That’s really good!” she says, and despite disagreeing with her, he can’t help but smile a little at the praise.
Bakugou’s approach to art, however, is a little more… eccentric. He uses colours much too bold for the empty water bottle he picked up. And when he finishes his sketch, he ends up doodling a rather detailed five-panel comic on the bottom half of the page of Shinsou and himself sending Endeavour rocketing into the air tied to a mound of fireworks.
Midnight comments on his interesting use of colour contrast on the assigned work, and when her eyes find the comic, she looks to him worriedly for an explanation.
“I don’t like Endeavour.” Bakugou says simply, “I met him when I was thirteen. He's an asshole.”
At the back of the class, Todoroki’s head shoots up- though he doesn’t seem angry at all- despite Bakugou just insulting his father. Katsuki’s eyes catch the movement from behind him, and his eyes light up with something that could only have been sparked from a mixture of smugness and spite.
“Oh yeah, I almost forgot!” Bakugou turns to Todoroki, his face taking on a strange look. “Hey, IcyHot! Tell your old man that he can go fuck himself- ‘cause that ‘weak-ass kid’ he met a couple years back is in Yuuei!”
Todoroki doesn’t nod- doesn’t do anything in return- but he seems to be reciprocating the odd expression on Bakugou’s face. Shinsou’s assuming that they’ve just bonded, if only a little.
Well, would you look at that- Hitoshi thinks, he's making friends. I feel like a proud mother. You go, Kats.
School ends, and while they're walking to the gate, Bakugou asks what he thought of their first proper day of classes.
“My brain’s a fucking shit-show.” is all he can think to say. And yeah, it really is.
He receives a shove from Katsuki in return. “Hey- it’s a pretty fucking useful shit-show though, isn’t it? You picked up on shit that those extras never would have- that’s gotta count for something. Besides, if you weren’t as badass as you are, I wouldn’t hang out with you, would I?”
And yeah, that’s true, too.
Maybe they're both kind of shit-shows, but they're the shit-shows that are gonna surprise the fuck out of anyone who ever doubted them.