Work Text:
It seemed fitting that the week following that tragic day would be marred with rain. The viewing, the funeral, the burial, each member of Class A had been there. Even now, as they prepare to go back to school, as they sit in their homeroom, the world cries. When Aizawa enters the class, he is plagued with exhaustion. His normal eye bags are darker, heavier, with bloodshot eyes accompanying them. It was seldom rare for their sensei to be an emotional man, but even he wasn’t spared of tears during the events. Another woman walks in with him, she’s nobody they’ve seen before: stout, nearly Shoji’s height, silver hair styled in a bun, large circular glasses, deep violet eyes, sparkling white skin, and black claws and teeth.
“Good morning, children,” Aizawa’s somber tone sets the whole class’ mood further down. They all stand and bow, greeting him wordlessly as they each sit back down. The roboticness of the action makes the lady’s posture go limp for a moment, as if she is shocked at the damp aura. Aizawa motions at her, and the class can all but look in her direction, “This is Ms. Juto, she is the grief counselor the school and I have assigned to you. Today will be a group session of sorts, but you are not obligated to attend. If you do not wish to be counseled, you may leave, but we highly encourage you to stay,” with that, Aizawa took his leave. Juto seemed to smile softly at them, seeing as nobody got up to move. She moved around the room and noticed the empty desk, slowly approaching it. Most of the students seemed to tense the closer she got, and when she gently brushed it, a head of angry, ashy blonde hair shot up.
“Don’t touch his desk!” he demanded, his ruby eyes piercing her very soul. Her hand began to glow and her hair began to levitate, a soft smile still on her face as blue energy illuminated the desk.
“Do not worry, I am merely sensing his energy,” she giggles, “he was lively, happy, and do I detect the color yellow?” she took her hand off the desk and walked back to the front, “a part of my quirk is sensing the energy of people, deceased or not. I usually need an object of theirs. It helps me gauge the kind of person they were, and helps me discern what my patients need,” she pulled Aizawa’s chair from his desk and sat in the middle of the class, “feeling Mr. Kaminari’s energy, I can see why you all seem so broken. He was so bright, a beacon of cheer and fun. Losing something or someone like that is devastating. But,” she looked at the class seriously, “you all know that, that is why I am here. Now,” she got out a notebook, “would anybody like to share?” The class all sat there, silently distracting themselves with their own thing. Juto let them until it was time for her to leave, she kept the line of communication open, but nobody said a word. When Aizawa came back in, he could sense the tenseness. Juto took him outside the room with a neutral look. “I take it didn’t go so well,” Aizawa guessed. “These kids have been through so much together, that even in times of grief they stand in solidarity. None of them would speak a word, and that is ok. This wound is still fresh, processing a loss like Kaminari will weigh on them. I can tell it weighs heavily on you as well, he must have been someone extraordinary,” she then fixed her bag, “I will be back next week, but I have a little assignment for your class,” Aizawa nodded as Juto spoke about what she was assigning before bidding her off and going back into the classroom.
“Homework, you each have to write a letter about your feelings before and after Kaminari’s death,” Iida shot up to protest, but Aizawa continued, “these letters will only be read by Ms. Juto, unless you wish to share. The compromise is that Ms. Juto will only come every two weeks instead of every week starting next week if everybody does the assignment,” Iida sat back down, “class is dismissed, you may go back to the dorms for the rest of the day, classes will resume next week. I know this time will be hard, and you all toughed out last week with school and the arrangements for Kaminari, so Nezu decided to give you this week off. Try to relax and process, I will be one call away if anybody needs me,” Class A left the room, all seemingly too quiet for their own good. Simultaneously, Class B was also dismissed, and not even Monoma could poke fun at Class A. The blonde was also grieving, he did have a friendship with Kaminari too. He, as well as Shinso and Pony, were given the week to grieve. When Class A got to their dorms, each went to their own room. None of them wanted to do the assignment right then, but as the week passed, the process of grieving progressed enough for everybody to tough out the assignment. On Monday, Aizawa walked into his classroom with nineteen sealed envelopes with his students’ names and a class letter saying they were taking one more day off to bond as a class. Aizawa handed the letters to Juto, who took them with a nod and went back to her own makeshift office next door to Hound Dog’s to read them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Koda
If I’m being honest, I found it so hard to write this letter. It’s not because I didn’t know what to write, though. I think it was because I had this feeling that I was somehow guilty. Denki always came around to play with Yuwai-chan, even bringing her carrots and shredded lettuce. I once caught him smuggling food from the mess hall, and Lunch Rush nearly took his head off. I remember seeing Denki’s face of fear, like Lunch Rush’s yelling scared him in a way that was all too traumatic, so I rushed in and said I needed the food. Lunch Rush immediately back pettled and apologized to me and Denki, which to me always seemed a little forced. I don’t exactly blame Lunch Rush, he doesn’t like it when people steal from his kitchen. But, once we escaped, Denki thanked me for the save and asked if I wanted to go with him. “I was stealing the veggie scraps, it will just go to waste in the trash and the animals on campus could make much better use of it” Denki’s smile gleamed like a thousand suns as Koda nodded. From that day on, Lunch Rush would give us the scraps to feed the animals, and whatever we couldn’t use went to the compost pile the gardening club had! That’s also when I found out Denki was a part of the gardening club, he apparently likes plants since they’re mostly immune to his quirk. We became so close, every Tuesday, Thursday, and sometimes Saturday we would go feed the animals and play with them. He made me a crocheted llama for my birthday, made with cruelty-free, humanely sourced yarn! I named him Kiko, and even as I write this letter, I’m snuggling him! Denki was so kind, I had never gotten such a thoughtful gift! About a month ago, I noticed a change. Denki got quieter, more subdued. He would still joke, still smile, but his whole energy seemed to shift. I saw it in his eyes, there was a bleakness to them, an emptiness that I had never seen nor could place. I noticed him pulling away from class gatherings, noticed him not coming by the cafeteria or dining tables in the dorms. I saw him getting thinner, weaker, frailer. I said nothing, and the next thing I knew Momo found him dead. He was malnourished, dehydrated, and had some lightning scars down his neck. Aizawa never told us how he died, and there were so many factors that nobody could figure it out. All I know is that I miss him, and Yuwai-chan does too. Her ears are flat every time I see her, and despite her never wanting to talk, I use my quirk on her and hear her cry. She cuddles Kiko when I’m at my stationary, she knows he’s the only thing we have of Denki left. I feel guilty, I should have said something.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Aoyama
I knew something was wrong. I knew he wasn’t ok. Call me dramatic, I’m used to it, but I am being honest! Denki and I had a bond, despite what most people think! Denki offered to model my clothing, encouraged my designing ambitions, and even helped bring a new perspective to my designs! Since our first year, he was my star model. His lean frame made for the perfect model. He was equally thankful for the fashion advice, and from there our friendship was born! Denki also helped me integrate better with the class. Prior to that, I was just the weird French student that stalked Midoriya and gave him cheese. But, Denki really brought out other aspects of my personality. “YUGA!!! HELP MEEEEE!!!” Aoyama looked up from his magazine to see his fellow blonde twink rummaging through his closet, “what says ‘I’ll treat you nice’ while also saying ‘you can call me daddy?’” Aoyama piqued a brow and smirked. He closed his magazine while Denki dropped his clothes. “I do not think those are good messages to send on a first date, mon ami,” Denki groaned and thunked his head on the wall. “Then what messages should I send?” Aoyama quickly picked out a blue dress shirt and black jeans and black sneakers. He then got one of Denki’s chokers and put the outfit on the bed. “This says ‘I am a gentleman’ and ‘I’m suave in fashion and in romance’” Denki hugged him. “Thank you Yuga!” Aoyama gave a soft smile and rubbed the back of his head. “Of course, anything for you, Denki,” A month ago, his smile and eyes lost their glow. I took his measurements and found he had dropped three sizes. Three! That’s not normal, if anything, that is probably the CLEAREST sign of an eating disorder! And I saw that he had lichtenberg figures down his leg and abdomen, but Denki told me they were nothing. I saw him dying, I noticed him dying right in front of me, and yet I said not a word. I wish I could turn back time, I wish I could hold him, hug him, tell him that I care about him. But, it’s too late. All I can do is apologize to the shrine of his in our common area and cry, I feel helpless.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sato
Denki was literally one of the kindest people I had ever known. You rarely saw him without a smile. He liked to climb on me when I bulked up, I actually used him to prolong my quirk. I was always so scared of dropping him, or crushing him. But, our bond really grew when he became the ‘class taster’. Bakugo had started it, calling Denki to the kitchen to taste any new recipes. Denki was the only one Bakugo allowed in the kitchen point blank if he was cooking, since it was the one place Denki just sat and watched. Bakugo told me Denki had a pretty advanced sense of taste, and so I began having him try my new recipes. Sato knocked on Denki’s door, bowl of batter in hand. Denki answered swiftly with his glasses on. “Sup, Rikido!” he looked at the bowl, “need me to taste the batter before you bake it?” Sato nodded nervously. He held out the bowl for Denki to try, the blonde sniffing it before running into his washroom to wash his hands quickly and come back out. He then dipped his finger in and dapped it on his tongue. He was quiet for a few seconds. “Orange?” Sato nodded, “orange extract?” Sato nodded again, “next time you should use a teaspoon of fresh orange juice, pulp and all. Or the zest of two oranges. It’ll taste less artificial, but otherwise really good,” Denki smiled. “I’ll be sure to try it that way next, then! Thanks, Denki!” The cookies were in fact better with orange juice and zest. He had wanted to stop testing my recipes around a month ago. I rarely found him in the kitchen, or in the cafeteria, or anywhere involving food. I noticed his drop in weight, and tried to bait him with cookies in front of his door. But, Denki had given them back with a thank you note. I was kind of sad, I had thought he no longer liked sweets. But, I noticed Bakugo began to taste his own food or would have Midoriya taste it. And then, he was dead. I had hardly noticed his thinning frame or distant attitude, I didn’t want to pry into his business and all that. I should’ve. The feeling I feel most, out of everything, is regret. I regret not prying, not trying, not noticing. And, my mind can only say one thing. I’m sorry Denki, I wish I noticed, I would’ve helped.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Shoji
I have been so angry, and so confused, and so everything since Denki’s passing. I don’t very often find myself this emotional, I like to stay neutral with my emotions. But, I can’t. Denki was the class sunshine, he was the one who joked around and made everybody feel at home. He brought that sense of ‘family’, he was the kid brother of the class despite me being the youngest. All these emotions are probably stemming from that. I know it’s weird, since we’re trying to be heroes and all. But, I HATE that I couldn’t protect him. Protect him from what, I wouldn’t know nor care. I would’ve held him through anything, like I did when he had seizures. Denki had those a lot following the war, and he told me he liked it when being held during them. He also liked being held during his quirk drawback. Not many in the class knew how severe the seizures were, I was one of the lucky few who saw that part of Denki. Shoji and Denki were chilling in Denki’s dorm, each doing their part of the English project that Mic had assigned. Denki had been kneeling on the floor, adjusting something on the poster board, when his eyes dilated and he got dizzy. He held his head and groaned, catching Shoji’s attention. The bigger man looked at the blonde just as he fell to the side and began seizing. Shoji’s eyes widened and he instantly rushed to his side, clasping his shoulder gently to keep him steady. He timed the seizure to make sure it didn’t go over five minutes. Shoji breathed a sigh of relief when the seizure only lasted a minute and a half. When Denki seemed to snap out of his daze, he chuckled and wiped the back of his head. “Sorry about that,” he apologized politely. Shoji shook his head, his eyes showing an obscene amount of worry. “No, don’t apologize. Are you hurt, Denki? Should I get Aizawa or Recovery Girl?” Denki laughed and waved him off. “Woah, woah, Mezo slow down! I’m ok! They’re a part of my quirk! I developed a seizure disorder due to the whole ‘powering the school’ thing during the war! I was using my quirk for too long, I guess,” Denki rubbed the back of his head, “Aizawa and Recovery Girl, along with the rest of the teachers, know everything. So long as the seizure didn’t go over five minutes, I’m fine. I just need to text Aizawa about how long it was and if I felt any auras,” Denki got his phone, which was beside him, “how long was it?” Shoji looked at his timer. “A minute and twenty-eight seconds,” Denki nodded and began typing a text to Aizawa. Shoji watched as he sent it and placed his phone screen down. “Hey Mezo,” Shoji nodded, “only the teachers, my squad, and Izuku know about my seizures. So, don’t tell anybody, ok? I don’t want to worry them, I have my support team, and if anybody else finds out, then that’s ok. But, I don’t want to outright worry everyone,” Shoji nodded. “I won’t tell a soul, Denki,” Denki smiled softly and nodded, believing Shoji’s words fully before leaning back down to begin finishing the project. I thought him losing weight and going distant may have been because of his seizure disorder getting worse. I didn’t want to intrude, I didn’t want to bother him. He was so self-conscious about his seizures and always so worried about the class. I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable or make him feel like he needed to tell me anything. But, then, he died, and nothing made sense. I was torn between guilt and horror, the fact I saw the signs and didn’t do anything. Momo’s screams that night still haunt me. I hear them every time I close my eyes. I want to go back and tell Denki that everything is going to be ok. I want to embrace him tightly and tell him I’m here, but I can’t. I feel like a failure, and I know my classmates all feel similarly to me. If Denki knew how much we cared, I wonder if he would’ve done it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hagakure
Nothing on this planet can describe how angry I am. And I know anger isn’t what I should feel, I should feel sadness or despair. But, I can’t, not when I saw it happening. I saw the fingerprints, the bruises, the weight loss, the new scars, and reclusion. I saw it and said nothing, and I’m so angry at myself for not being a hero. There aren’t many people I get protective over, but Denki was one of them, and the fact I failed him makes me so upset with myself. He got me and Ojiro together, he pushed me at that dance, gave us both a thumbs up before swaying away. We had our first kiss that night. The dance had been going slowly for most of the class, at some point Kirishima, Denki, and Sero were having fun. But, somebody spiked the punch and everybody got an earful from Aizawa while Lunch Rush replaced the punch bowl. The mood kind of died after the lecture. Hagakure and Ojiro were awkwardly dancing on the floor solo, trying to not get too deep into each other’s space. Then, Hagakure felt a sudden force crash into her, catapulting her into Ojiro’s direction. Ojiro, ever perceptive and quick with his reactions, dove to get her. The two landed in a deep dip that looked way too romantic for the naked eye. They both looked and saw Denki, swaying with a smile, holding up two thumbs up before sashaying away. Ojiro gulped while poor Hagakure turned bright red, but the two rode with it, trying not to make it awkward. “Well,” Ojiro started, “he seems to be having fun,” the two spared a glance Denki’s way, they both saw the small smile dawning on his precious face. “Yeah, he is,” Hagakure replied coolly. The two continued to dance, smiling and having mild chatter. Chatter turned to jest, to laughter, to deep conversation. Before leaving the dance floor, the two were enchanted by each other. That night, while walking back to the dorms, Hagakure kept Ojiro’s jacket close. The two shared a tender kiss before they went back inside Heights Alliance. The next day, Denki gave them both a small smile, he knew what he had done. I wish I could’ve just thanked him properly, told him he was my strongest friend, hugged him tightly. I never got to see his body, Momo made sure nobody else saw. I just want to see him again, I want to brush his fluffy hair from his face and tell him it’s all going to be ok. But, it’s not, it will never be ok.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mineta
I hate it, I hate that I lost him. He was my dude bro, he tolerated how pervy I was in the start, he showed me what being a total chad actually was. He straightened me out, he made me a better friend and better person. And what the actual fuck did I do in return? What did I give him to show that I appreciated his friendship and kindness? Nothing, I gave him NOTHING! And what’s worse, I know Denki doesn’t blame me for that. He always hid, always made sure nobody could see his pain, he was like a cat! The minute he was distressed or scared, he hid, it was all a mask. I saw it crack so many fucking times. I saw him becoming someone I couldn’t recognize. I gave him nothing to repay him for the time he spent on me. He was far too good a person. “I just don’t get why you perv so much?” Denki noted as Mineta tried to look through the peephole. Denki was leaning on the wall in front of it, “can’t you just go look online if you wanna see some boobs? It’s not like they censor or actually check if you’re an adult either,” Mineta huffed. “Come on, dude, haven’t you ever wanted to see the absolute babes we go to school with?” Denki cocked his head to the side, completely unamused. “I mean, yeah, but I don’t trespass their space and try to force them to show me. I let them get comfortable, let them have a voice, let them know they have an ally. You creeping on them isn’t going to make them like you, it’s just going to make them repulsed. You think I was able to help Momo unhook her bra because I spied on her changing?” “You did WHAT?!” Mineta gasped. “Yeah, one of the metal clasps got stuck and her arms were sore from training. I was returning one of Tsu's notebooks and I heard her struggling. I knocked and asked if I could help, she let me because I’ve shown I’m not a gross degenerate despite hanging out with you,” Denki smirked cooly as the girls left the changing room, each waving at him as they passed. Mineta huffed and stood up straight, crossing his arms. “I guess you’re kinda right,” he mumbled. Denki chuckled lightly, his smile bright. “Kinda?” Denki piqued, making Mineta sigh and breathlessly laugh. “Ok, fully right. We should totally celebrate, that’s rare,” Denki laughed heartedly and nodded, the two walking down the hall. Mineta could faintly remember while walking next him the purple handprint around his forearm. Denki made me a better person, I actually got some respect now because of him. He made me reflect, he was my best friend. At least, I think he was. I was too blind.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ojiro
I know Toru is mad at herself, but I can’t bring myself to feel anything but numbness. I’ve cried every night, I’ve become so scared. I see him in my dreams, I see memories, I pick up more than what I did. I see the bruises, the scratches, the electrical burns. I see it all and despite me understanding what most of it most likely means, I can’t seem to feel anymore. I am emotionally drained. Every time I feel the wind brush the hair on my tail, I wince and cry because I feel him. I think at some point I was angry, I sprained my knuckle punching the crap out of a punching bag. Toru said nobody could stop me, I just let it all out on a punching bag the day after he was found. And I believe her, because before it all went numb, my tail, arms, and legs were sore beyond measure. Rage isn’t something I’m used to, but for Denki, I’d push a person off a cliff if Denki was in danger. And yet…I didn’t protect him. I remember one night, cuddled up in my room because he had a nightmare, I saw it. I saw the hand print seared into his thigh. “What is that?” Ojiro had asked worriedly. Denki was getting changed since the two were sleeping over in Ojiro’s dorm. Denki had been having a bad week with nightmares and they had been studying late anyway. Denki decided he wanted to wear one of Ojiro’s hoodies and sweats. “Oh, I accidentally burned myself!” Denki mentioned off handedly, his smile didn’t reach his eyes and the bags underneath his eyes seemed to weigh more. Ojiro knew he was full of shit, the handprint on his thigh was way too big to be his. An adult male made the marks, and Ojiro knew Denki saw that. “Denki, is somebody-” “Ojiro, please, just-just drop it,” Denki took a deep breath to steady himself, “it’s nothing I can’t handle,” he finished as he pulled the pants up. Ojiro saw how upset it made him, tiny sparks dancing in his fringe. When Denki sat back on the bed, Ojiro got behind him and hugged his waist, flopping his tail around them and wagging the tip slightly. “Denki, I’ll drop it, but just know I am here for you. I will help you, just, please call me if you need me,” Denki giggled lightly and began to play with the hair of Ojiro’s tail. “You’re the best, Mashi, thank you,” Denki’s smile seemed real, and Ojiro had a little bit of hope that Denki knew he meant every word. Three weeks later, he was dead. I don’t know who was hurting him, he clammed up after that. But, I do know one thing, when I find out who it was, I won’t feel numb anymore.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tokoyami
Dark shadow keeps crying for him, and I don’t blame her. She’s mourning her favorite light source, he was the only one who made her feel safe despite all the light he produced. And, above all, he was one of the greatest friends I have ever had the honor and privilege of caring about. Denki was the only person who sat with me when I was alone in the library, he would read next to me and sometimes make polite conversation. We read together, wrote and analyzed poetry together, played guitar together, we even cuddled together sometimes. I’m sick, I’m so sick of feeling this gaping chasm in my chest. “Fumi~ I’m cold~” Denki whined as he faceplanted into Tokoyami’s bed. Dark Shadow immediately manifested and wrapped herself around Denki. Denki giggled while the birdy shadow figure made pleased chirps while basically encapsulating him. “You know she can’t resist it when you want cuddles,” he commented calmly as he set his bag down by the foot of the bed before diving into bed as well. He faced Denki, whose cheek was being nuzzled by Dark Shadow. Denki giggled again, making eye contact with Tokoyami. Tokoyami would’ve been red faced if he had a human face. “I can’t resist DS either, she’s such a sweetie. I wish all my cuddles were this loving and warm,” Denki said that last sentence with a subdued sadness, and Tokoyami immediately picked up on the tonal shift. Tokoyami, against all expectations, hugged Denki’s waist and nuzzled him with his own bird head. His feathers poofed a bit and he chirped a bit out of habit. “Denki, I-I want all your cuddles to be warm. You don’t deserve the bleakness of shallow or selfish affections,” Tokoyami rubbed the back of Denki’s head, “you deserve the most fulfilling kind of love,” Denki chuckled softly. “Always such a softie, my favorite Nevermore,” Denki’s eyes began to droop, a comfortable silence washing over the two. Tokoyami noticed bite marks on Denki’s neck and fingerprints on his chest. He never made a comment, all he knew was Dark Shadow had never held onto him so tight. She still cries for him, I still cry for him. Whoever was hurting him was the purest form of evil, I want to kill that person. And I know it may be the grief, it may be the unsaid feelings and thoughts, it may be the thoughts of what if. Whoever made his cuddles feel cold deserves to die.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tsu
It has been so long since I actually sat down with him. If I had just spent a bit more time with him, maybe I would’ve known. Because, as much as everyone thinks they are a coward, I wouldn’t have been. I would’ve not taken any prisoners, I would’ve saved him. And I know people will think it’s just the grief talking, because if BAKUGO or MIDORIYA didn’t step in then obviously I wouldn’t. But they’re wrong. I would’ve. I would’ve done something because what Denki went through was NOT deserved. Nobody deserves that. And, I may not know the full story, but we all saw the fingerprints, the bruises, and scars. We can put puzzle pieces together. I haven’t stopped crying and being mad since he died. He was like a brother to me. We talked about our younger siblings: Denki had twin baby sisters, Jinko and Juno. They were the only family he ever talked about, never his parents or grandparents or aunts and uncles. Whatever one of those slimy bastards was doing to him, it must’ve stung Denki beyond repair. Because with how he talked about his sisters, I KNOW he would never leave them behind. Her and Denki were in the common area, it was just past 10 PM and they were putting some finishing touches on their family tree posters. Since villain attacks were on the rise, they didn’t want to host a big family day festival, so they replaced it with a long weekend and a family project instead. Denki’s poster seemed sparse, a family portrait at the center with a snippet of who was who below it. But, all the polaroids around the board were his sisters: them playing at the park, Denki with a face mask on braiding one sister’s hair, the three at some kiddie amusement park with funny headbands on. Tsu noticed it and smiled. “You really love your sisters,” she commented softly. Denki smiled at her, nodding. “Yeah, they’re so cute! Everybody always acts like having a brother would’ve been ‘so much better’, but my sisters are literally so cool!” Tsu giggled. “Sounds like they really lucked out getting a big brother like you,” She complimented. Denki giggled and finished gluing some rhinestones down. “Someone needs to love them, God knows they won’t,” Denki whispered under his breath. His voice was bitter, and Tsu caught the look of contempt when he gazed at the family portrait. Tsu didn’t think too much into it, for all she knew, it was a family quarrel. It was the only time she got to see Denki so mad. His sisters need protection, one of those monsters did that to Denki.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ochako
Momo has been inconsolable since she found him. I don’t even want to picture what she saw. All I know is somebody hurt Denki, to the point self mutilation was found all over his body. And a part of me really is upset about that, because nobody deserves to feel that. I feel like I’m not grieving enough, I don’t feel numb or mad or even sad, I feel like it’s a passing day. I want to feel more, I want to cry with my classmates. I don’t know why I’m not crying, why can’t I cry? Why don’t I feel what they’re feeling? And yet, I still can’t manage anymore tears. What if I don’t cry at the next one? What if I don’t cry at loss again? Am I still even human? I was devastated by losing Denki too, he always had my back when it came to people talking about me. He would sometimes clue Deku in when I was dropping hints, he gave the best advice and hugs. Denki even had this recipe he taught me, a cookie recipe he baked every other Sunday at the crack of dawn so we would wake up to the smell of sweetness and have warmth pool in our hearts. Ochako had snuck downstairs because she could smell the cookies from her vents. They had been appearing every other Sunday for the past three months, and nobody had owned up to it. They tasted like her late grandmother’s cookies, only better, and every time she took a bite it made her go back to her childhood. When her head peaked around the corner, she saw Denki taking the cookies off with a spatula, placing them on a cooling rack. When all the cookies were done, she watched as Denki washed everything and put them back with extreme precision. He then placed the cookies on little plates and placed the plates at everybody’s spots. He was about to go back upstairs, but Ochako was waiting there with her arms crossed and a smile on her face. “Well, can’t say I expected you,” Ochako joked lightly. Denki looked away and brushed his head. “They’re my favorite cookies,” Denki defended. Ochako nodded and took his hands. “I’m not mad, just, confused. Why hide it?” “Cause, if people knew it was me, then they’d know I can actually cook and I would be in the kitchen rotation,” Denki explained. Ochako blinked a few times before cracking up laughing. “Welp! I’ll make you a deal, teach me the recipe and I’ll keep your secret!” Ochako smiled and stuck out her pinkie, Denki huffed lightly, accepting he’d been caught, and hooked his pinkie with hers. I want to make his cookies, I want to give them to the class because we all miss the Sundays when his sweet gesture greeted us in the morning. I think I’m going to continue his tradition, I want that part of him to be remembered. Not his end, not his abuse. I want to remember the Denki that hid the fact he could bake the best cookies on the planet (next to Sato) so he wouldn’t be forced to cook. I want to remember the Denki that laughed as I threw flour on him. I want the parts of Denki that the monster didn’t touch to be remembered.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Iida
I can’t even be bothered with formalities anymore. I just keep having that thought, the same thoughts I had when Stain paralyzed my brother: I want that monster dead. I am the class president, I am meant to remain calm and leveled. But, I can’t. I can’t be calm right now, I have spent the better part of the last few days running because if I stay still, I’ll remember the feelings. I hate it, I hate that I couldn’t be a hero, that I couldn’t save him. He knows about my brother, I told him one night when we were both unable to sleep. He knows what I almost did. He knows and he still treated me with respect and kindness. He knows the darkness I’m capable of and still chose to be my friend. He was too good for this world, and I’m so close to just breaking in half. “Can’t sleep, class prez~” Denki sang as he made his way into the kitchen, noting Iida staring blankly at the toast he had made himself. Iida blinked before looking up, nodding slightly. “Yes, I apologize for any disturbance, Kaminari,” Iida sighed as he took a bite of the toast. He had been up because he kept having this nightmare about the training camp, the rescue, All Might’s retirement. All the uncertainty. “Disturbance? Nah, it’s all good! I’m more worried than anything that you’re off schedule, you’re due for your morning jog in two hours and you have bigger eye bags than Aizawa’s,” Iida was slightly taken aback at Denki’s bluntness as the blonde simply opened the fridge and got some orange juice. “I suppose I can say the same to you,” Denki smiled at Iida’s retort, shrugging. “I can just plug myself in, so I don’t really need sleep,” Iida blinked once more, watching as Denki poured himself a large cup of juice and set it at the spot next to him. Denki then returned the juice to the refrigerator and got out a container of premade hard boiled eggs. He watched as Denki halved the eggs, scooping the yolks into a bowl. He then watched as Denki put the container in the sink before going back to the fridge to grab brown seeded mustard and kewpie mayo, adding both to the bowl of yolks, before once again cleaning up the ingredients and mixing the contents of the bowl. He then scooped the yolks back into the eggs and put them on a serving dish, putting the dish in between him and Iida. He then sat down and put his hand out. “What?” Iida asked, and Denki gestured to the eggs. “Eat up, eggs are good for protein, they’ll give you energy. I’m pretty sure you aren’t sleeping tonight,” Iida nodded slowly before taking one and eating it, surprised by the pungent yet soft flavors. “These are the best deviled eggs I’ve ever had,” Iida whispered before eating another one. Denki smiled, eating one once Iida tried them. “It’s the mustard, the brown seeded mustard gives it that punch it needs,” Denki took another egg and sipped his juice, “now, spill, what’s eating that brain of yours?” Iida felt so eased in his presence, the two spent the whole of early morning eating deviled eggs and talking. He listened, he stayed, he became a confidant. It hurts to know I couldn’t save him, especially after I saw his limp.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Todoroki
He taught me so much, he made me feel like I wasn’t some awkward nepo kid. He was one of my first real friends, he was always so happy. Which is why when I saw the signs, I knew I should’ve said something. I know the signs for abuse, I lived that life my entire childhood. To see his skin in the locker room, marred and bruised, it made my fire light up. I wanted to ask, but I remember how it felt being that kid that the teachers always questioned. I remember how upsetting being in the chair, while everybody worries, made me feel. I didn’t want to do that to Denki, he didn’t deserve either of those treatments. I want the bastard who hurt him to pay, he is the one who deserves to feel pain. I opened up to him about my own abusive past. I had hoped being vulnerable with him would allow him to feel comfortable enough to open up to me. But, it didn’t work, instead, he gave me a tight hug and told me it was going to be ok now. He let me cry, despite not realizing my tears weren’t that for my pain, but for his. “You know,” Shoto had whispered while closing his textbook. He leveled Denki a soft look, briefly gazing at the purpling hickey on Denki’s pectoral. Shoto had to quell the anger that flared inside him, taking a calming breath. “Yea, Sho?” Shoto gulped, biting his lower lip to regain his nerve. Anger pulsed through his veins, but he had to remain calm. “I was abused growing up. My father, he may have been a hero to most. But, he was a monster to me. I saw a man who couldn’t be what he wanted, so he tried to use me to get it. I spent my days wishing to play and be with my siblings. I never got that, He would train me until my bones felt sore and my muscles ached. He never allowed me a childhood,” “Oh, Sho, I’m so sorry,” Shoto looked at Denki’s face, deep electric yellow pools glazed with tears. It made Shoto upset, because Denki didn’t deserve to cry. “I wanted you to know, because I trust you with my life. And, not many people understand that just because my father was a good hero, doesn’t mean he was a good father. I would have rather been born to a poor family if it only meant feeling loved,” he looked at Denki, cupping his cheeks, “and I want you to know that too! You deserve to feel love! You are such a good person, Denki! If you’re ever in trouble, I want you to get help! I want you to survive, because the world needs people like you,” Shoto began crying. Denki shed a few soft tears as well, hugging Shoto. The embrace shattered Shoto, making the dual-haired boy cry harder, clutching Denki close. He cupped the back of Denki’s head, making sure to keep him from looking at his face, “promise me, promise me you will get help if somebody hurts you,” Shoto could feel the grip loosen for a moment, before the tightness came back. Denki gave him a few reassuring back rubs, humming softly before nodding into Shoto’s chest. “I promise,” Denki whispered softly. I wish Denki just knew how much we loved him. I wish he knew how much we cared. I wish he knew how much his broken promise hurt me and the others. I wish he knew, God, why didn’t he know?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Midoriya
They said he killed himself, and I think that’s bullshit. His stepfather did it, his stepfather assaulted him and then framed it that way. I’ve investigated the crime scene, I saw the case files, and I saw the signs: the bruises, the limps, the scars, the hickeys. I saw all of it, I know it was him. That sick fuck. Denki hated him, said he treated his mom like shit and that he was the only person looking out for her and his sisters. He once told me his stepfather wasn’t a good man, and part of the reason he was becoming a hero was to catch more assholes like him. Then, that fire died, and the signs started appearing. The limps, the bite marks, the bruises, the lack of appetite, the starvation. Textbook signs of abuse, and I know Aizawa saw it. He was probably investigating on the down low, which is the only reason I haven’t gone Vigilante Deku on that motherfucking creep. He once gave me an All Might hoodie he had. It was one of the only ones I hadn’t collected, since it was only sold in America. I have slept with it every night, it smells like him. It feels like I’m a heartbroken teenage girl in a cliche, vintage romance movie. “Hey, Zukubro~ I got something for ya~” Denki had strolled into the common room, carrying a bag. Midoriya, who was sitting on the couch at the time, peeked over his shoulder. Ochako, who was sitting next to him, smiled softly as Denki hucked himself over the couch to sit at Midoriya’s other side. He gently put the bag in his lap, smiling smugly. Midoriya opened the bag, absolutely shocked to see the familiar fabric of an All Might sweatshirt he had seen on the internet go for thousands of yen. Midoriya gently pulled it out and nearly screamed. “A first edition All Might hoodie! With the chrome finishes and sewn on hair tongs!” Midoriya’s eyes brightened so much the whole common area got three shades brighter, “Denki, these were limited edition and only sold in America! Where did you get this?!” Midoriya screamed. “Oh, my uncle is a hero in America, actually has worked with All Might on a few occasions. He sent me that hoodie since he didn’t want it, he got it at some hero promotion gala thing,” Midoriya squealed and took Denki down with a hug, the bigger male absolutely engulfing Denki between himself and the couch. “Ohhhh! Thank you, Denki! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Denki chuckled softly and hugged Midoriya back. The greenette was basically glued to Denki until dinner. I want that man to suffer for what he did to Denki. Somebody has to make him suffer. Please, somebody make him suffer.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Momo
Jiro told me the scream I let out that night was traumatizing. She said that it was blood curdling and made the very core of the class afraid for their lives. She said that the absolute terror in my voice scarred everybody. But, to have seen what I saw, any of them would’ve let out that much raw emotion. There was so much blood, his skin was torn in so many places, his self harm scars were red. Red, I used to love red. I can’t even spare the color thought anymore. My whole body was covered in it, I held him, I clutched his body as I cried, I feel stained by that night. It’s like I can’t wash my body enough, like this blood is just a part of me now. I can still smell auras of iron randomly. It was grotesque and morbid and, God, there aren’t enough words to describe how chillingly gory it was. And despite it all, I know it wasn’t him. No person, no matter how broken, could possibly inflict that much hatred upon themselves. I felt the warmth encompassing the hand prints around his neck, I could feel that familiar rawness of his flesh from using his quirk. He was attacked, somebody attacked him. And I’m left with bittersweet memories of all the fun we’ve had. Somebody took away my surrogate brother, somebody killed him. Midoriya knows who it is, I know he does, he has that look anytime Denki passes his thoughts. I’m going to ask him who did it, I need to know. “Momo~” Denki sang as he knocked on her door, “I got a surprise~” Momo cracked the door, Denki holding up a bag of takeout, “ramen, fried chicken, and gyoza~” Momo had felt drained from training that day, so she let out a small smile and let him in. The two were paired for a project in English and Denki had been ten minutes late to their study session. “Denki, this is great!” Momo exclaimed as Denki set the food on her dresser, getting the portable bed tables that she kept stored under her desk. He set them up and started taking out the food. He split the portions 60/40, him taking the smaller part. “I also got us some Coke, gotta get that caffeine to keep us awake!” Denki pulled out two cans with bendy straws. Momo laughed as Denki popped open the bright red can, giving Momo’s red bendy straw a good inspection for dramatic effect. The two settled with the food while sitting on Momo’s large bed, spending the better half of three hours on the project. Denki ended up crashing, and Momo didn’t have the heart to wake up. She just texted Aizawa that he was in her room and would be staying the night. She cuddled him close that night, wanting to give him all the warmth he had given her. I’m so sick of being heartbroken, I’m tired of feeling this way. I want him back, I want my little brother back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mina
I know it was his stepfather, I know it was him. That perv was always creeping on Denki! He even walked in on him in the bathroom while us and the rest of the bakusquad were at their place. I saw the way that man looked at him, the way he grinned anytime Denki bent down. The way his pants went a little taut when he looked at Denki for too long. The hunger in his eyes when Denki was alone, like a wolf stalking a sheep. The squad saw it too, the boys began guarding the door, disguising their efforts as ‘waiting their turn’ for the bathroom. I know for a fact it pissed Eijiro, Kat, and Hanta off. “Denks, why do you even stay here?” Sero had questioned while the group was sitting in Denki’s room. Denki sighed and put his hand on his neck, rubbing it nervously. Nobody missed the hand print on his wrist nor the bite mark on his clavicle. “Because if I don’t, he’ll go after my sisters or my mom. I can’t let them get hurt,” Mina put a hand on his shoulder. “He’s hurting you, Denki. He’s hurting you and it won’t stop until we do something,” Denki’s eyes widened in fear and she clutched her hand. “Mina, I BEG you, don’t say anything,” Mina and the whole squad blinked owlishly. “What the Hell, Pikachu? Why not?!” Bakugo roared, his fists clenching. “He’s paying my tuition, he pays for Juno’s therapies and Jinko’s club fees! He’s paying for my mom’s cancer treatment! If I do that, they’ll…they’ll-” “They’ll live, free of his control. And so will you,” Kirishima spoke firmly. He got in front of Denki and held his shoulders, “bro, please, we’re begging you. Just tell Aizawa. I’m sure he’ll have some idea on how your family can survive, he’ll have resources! Just, stop letting that creep hurt you!” Sero hugged his side. “Yeah man, losing you, it will kill us. It will kill them,” Mina then approached, rubbing his temple and getting the hair out of his face. “We will be there Denks, no matter what,” Mina smiled, “just, please, get help,” Denki was silent for a few moments before nodding, wiping his tears. He was dead not even a week later. That man killed him, he knew Denki was about to rat him out. He’s lucky Aizawa basically has us under lock and key, because I’d revel in watching his face melt off.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sero
Nobody tells you how badly it hurts until it happens. How sudden it feels, how there’s this emotional whiplash you get when someone you love dies. And nobody tells you it’s this painful, how do people LIVE after a loss. It feels so empty, my chest, it feels like there is a cavity and I can’t fill it. And despite all this emptiness, I still feel rage. I feel my brain frizz up with hatred anytime I see that man in my mind. Denki’s stepdad did this, I KNOW he did, because Denki was about to rat him out. I want to hurt him, I want to hurt him and make him feel what he did to Denki. I didn’t think I was capable of wanting to do that to a person, but I imagine it, and it gives me this giddiness that I know isn’t healthy. I want Denki back so badly, I want him to meet me under our tree in the courtyard, I want him to tell me his corny jokes and lighten my dad. “Hey, Hanta,” Sero groaned weakly, glancing up from his comic with a mouth filled with Takis, “you look a little down. Want to ‘Taki’ ‘bout it,” Denki’s cheeks were bright red from how he was holding in his laughs. Sero rolled his eyes and let a snort out, making Denki point, “SEE I TOLD YOU!” Denki shouted with a smile on his face, “I TOLD YOU I COULD MAKE YOU LAUGH WITH A TAKI JOKE!” Sero burst into laughter at that, takis falling from the corners of his mouth. “You asshole, I just bought this! Now I got taki drool on it,” Sero wiped the comic, still giggling in tiny spurts. “Doesn’t matter~ I made you laugh~” Denki giggled like a little school girl and started dancing in a circle, “that means you have to buy my coins at the arcade this weekend~” Sero rolled his eyes again and nodded, stuffing more takis in his mouth. They never got to go to the arcade. I would give anything just to hear that laugh again. Anything. Even myself, if not just to hear those stupid, corny jokes again. I miss him, I hope Bakugo and Mina get to his stepdad before I do.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jiro
I never got to tell him how much I love him. He was dorky and dumb and, despite all his quirky bullshit, I loved him. I still DO love him. I have been cleaning myself obsessively and sleeping in one of the shirts he left in my room. It smells like him, it smells like before that monster started abusing him. It smells like his golden bottle shampoo that he got from his bio dad in America, with peony and cloves. It smells like normal, and I think that’s why everything hurts so much. I can’t go back to normal, not after I saw those hand prints on his hips. The night before he ‘died’ he was in MY room. He showed me: adult hand prints, ones that I KNOW belonged to his stepdad. Denki hugged my waist and nuzzled my chest. He cried when he told me that it ‘finally’ happened. How it wasn’t just biting anymore, or spanking, or touching. It was passed groping, it was passed watching. And I’ve had nightmares because I can picture the position, I can see Denki’s face, and I can HEAR that monster’s voice. And Denki said he was going to tell, he said he was going to get help. He told me, HE TOLD ME! And that night, he died. “Kyoka, he’s going to kill me soon enough. I have to tell,” Denki nuzzled deeper into Jiro’s chest. She kept him close, rubbing the back of his head. “Denki, please, tell Aizawa. Tell him everything. Show him the bruises, you and I both know he probably has a feeling anyway. He just needs provocation to act!” Jiro clutched him closer, “please, Denki. We need you to be ok, we WANT you to be ok,” Jiro blinked back tears. “Kyo, take pictures,” Denki stood up and pulled his pants down, “take them, proof,” “Denki, you ARE the proof,” Denki shook his head. “He has people, Kyoka, this is for in case those people get to me before I chicken out,” Jiro nodded and took pictures of everything. The two talked for a bit more before Denki went back to his dorm. He knew his stepdad was coming for him. He went back to his room so he wouldn’t go after me. I wished I had just kept Denki in my room that night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kirishima
I am so fucking done. I have this burning rage erupting inside me. I want to go to his stepfather, I want to bash his face in, I want to break his legs and watch him squirm. I want to watch the life leave his eyes the way I KNOW he watched Denki’s light dim that night. He was my best fucking friend, and nothing on this God forsaken planet aside from Aizawa is stopping me from marching into that house and beating the absolute crap out of him. Because Kyoka told me, she confided in me, and when she showed me the pictures, everything I was feeling turned to BURNING rage. I can’t feel sad anymore, I need revenge. I need Denki to know how I would give up ANYTHING, including my own future as a hero, for him. Anything, anything in my possession, would be his if it meant I could just hold him again. “Eiji~ I got a surprise~” Denki sung as he walked into Kirishima’s dorm, swishing a bag of takeout. “Ah! Dude, you totally didn’t need to!” Kirishima stopped punching his punching bag and sat on the bed. Denki placed the bag on the ground, before sitting and digging in it himself. He pulled out a few containers and handed them up to Kirishima. “What do you mean, I TOTALLY had to! We got a movie to watch! And what’s a movie without some good eats!” Kirishima smiled brightly at him. His smile dimmed when he noted a bite mark on the back of Denki’s neck. “Denks, stand up,” Denki blinked but nodded. He stood up and Kirishima held his hands, “turn around,” Denki seemed to hesitate, but did as told, “permission to touch?” Denki gulped and nodded. “Permission granted,” Kirishima gently brushed his neck, his mouth wobbling. “Permission to kiss the boo-boo,” Kirishima joked lightly, trying to make it not as sad as it was. Denki leaned back, smiling softly. “Permission granted,” Kirishima’s watery smile seemed to still as he hugged Denki’s waist and pulled him close, gently kissing Denki’s neck. Denki shivered a bit and hiccuped, making Kirishima stop, “it feels better when it’s your lips,” Denki whispered. Kirishima just held him tighter. Holy crap. I just realized I loved him. How did I not know?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bakugo
Shitty Hair probably just figured out how he felt, but I’ve been in love with that blonde idiot since first year. And every part of me is seething, because I’ve been too big a pussy to ever say it to his face. I wonder if I had, if I had just told him how I felt, if maybe us being together would’ve changed anything. If that asshole knew he had me, if he knew that Denki was one of the only reasons I fear dying, if he would have still touched him. And I know it’s so fucking delusional to think having me would’ve changed that pedophile’s mind. But, Denki is the reason I have some delusion. Everything was just better when he was around. The laughter sounded realer, the aura was warmer, the battles were funner, and the training wasn’t as grueling. His jokes made it lighter, his smile made it brighter, his presence made existing feel new. I wanted to tell him so bad. I wanted to tell him that I would go rogue for him. I wanted to tell him that I adored the ground he walked on, and that every breath he took made me thankful to be alive. But, I couldn’t ever say it. Not only because it’s cringy as fuck, but because I was a coward. I’m anger incarnate, hearing those words come out of my mouth? Please, I’d be lucky if that idiot didn’t laugh thinking it was a joke. But, I mean it, I mean it more than anything. “Oi! Denki, get your ass on one of the kitchen stools! Got this new recipe I want you to try!” Bakugo was in the kitchen, stirring a pot of curry that he was trying for the first time. There was a secret ingredient, and he wanted to see if Denki could taste it. Denki came bounding from the common room, like the fucking Road Runner, standing at attention. “Ready to taste Heaven, Chef Katsuki!” Denki winked and opened his mouth. Bakugo smirked and got the tasting spoon, scooping some in and blowing on it a few times. Bakugo then fed it to Denki, who let it sit on his tongue for a moment before moving it around his mouth. “Well?” Bakugo huffed. Denki smiled as he swallowed, his eyes gleaming. “Dark chocolate~” Bakugo slammed the spoon down. “God dammit! How do you always figure it out?!” Bakugo’s veins popped from his neck. He was SO SURE he stumped Denki. “You’re using cayenne, and many people say using dark chocolate helps balance out the capsaicin’s spice while giving a bitter undertone! It overall helps balance the flavors and adds a richness it otherwise wouldn’t possess,” Denki giggled and winked as both Midoriya and Sato blinked from their stools, the two had watched the whole thing. “Wow, Kaminari!” Midoriya praised, “you know a lot about food!” Denki puffed up his chest and put his hands on his hips. “I know~” He then winked at Bakugo again and stuck out his tongue, “better luck next time, Kacchan~” Bakugo huffed shortly before going back to cooking. His heart was beating rapidly just thinking of Denki’s sweet face. By the time you’re done reading this, it’ll be too late.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Juto read that last line and bolted to find Aizawa, she ran throughout the halls with vigor, trying to find the homeroom teacher. Her heart was pacing, a firm look on her face but panic in her heart. When she did find Aizawa, he was in Nezu’s office, with Bakugo and the rest of the class in tow. “I take it you finished my letter,” Bakugo figured with a smirk, red staining his cheek, “took ya long enough, it looks like Sensei figured out our motives before you did,” Bakugo seemed calm, which for some reason made Juto queasy. “What…what happened?” Nezu smiled sincerely. “It would seem justice was in the hands of a vigilante or two,” “Or nineteen,” Mineta corrected with a proud puff of his chest. She looked and saw most of the class had bruised knuckles and scraped costumes. Aizawa sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You all are LUCKY Detective Tsukauchi was the one who found you and not another hero. They’d have beaten the piss off the lot of you!” Aizawa sighed and rubbed the back of his head, “not to mention how he covered all your asses, erasing all proof,” Juto stood blankly in the doorway, processing just what was being said. “They didn’t-” she pointed to the kids, Nezu shook his head. “Thankfully not, just a good beating. Which is less than he deserves, if you want my highly advanced brain’s opinions,” Nezu spoke nonchalantly. The class all seemed to giggle at that, and Juto was left stunned as Nezu waved them off, “you all may shower and then return to the dorms. I’ll have Mic start editing the footage in case Tsukauchi didn’t get everything,” the class all buzzed past Juto, who blinked once more. “Are they allowed to get away with that,” Juto questioned, “I mean, I’m all for it, just noting it for future cases,” Juto smiled softly, completely on board with being complacent. “Normally, no, but I think we can bend a lot of rules this time around,” Aizawa explained, “I’m going to start filling out fake assignments, get them a solid alibi,” Aizawa walked past Juto. Nezu and her talked for a brief while, helping get all things sorted, before she went back to her office. Juto stayed at the school until the end of the school year, the class was a lot more cooperative once their own justice was dealt out. And despite the loss, the class continued down their paths to greatness. Juto never spoke about what actually happened. She saw the news stories, she saw what the class did, but after reading the class’ feelings, she couldn’t bring herself to care. She saw how Denki’s mom and siblings thrived once he was gone, and how the world seemed a bit brighter once he was dealt with. So, Juto did what she does best, she kept her patients’ feelings a secret. Doctor and patient confidentiality and all that. The case of the mystery beating captivated the country, until people found out what he did. Then, people stopped feeling bad and preached how he deserved it. Juto keeps that homework assignment in a locked box, sealed away. The only evidence that could prove who beat that man to near death was kept hidden, protected by law in those precious letters.