Archive of Our Own

i. shower

The first time Shinsou accidentally charms one of his roommates, he’s not expecting anyone to be home until much later in the day.

He’s taking his time to relax after a long and frankly shitty shift at the coffee shop; some prick had asked to see his manager for messing up his order (Shinsou hadn’t), demanded a refill on the house (he’d gotten one), but then still made Shinsou wake Mr. Aizawa from his nap to complain about “the awful service”. Shinsou could’ve dealt with an asshole on a good day. It was the genuine disappointment in Aizawa’s eyes he couldn’t bear. That disappointment, Shinsou knew, was directed at him, rather than at a nap cut short. It wasn’t like Shinsou lacked assertiveness. He just didn’t know how not to lose his temper while simultaneously standing his ground.

That is why he’s now taking extra time to massage the kinks out of his sore neck, after he’s shampooed and rinsed his long hair. Self-care is an important part of Shinsou’s routine. Possibly the only thing standing between himself and conviction for mass murder. Or between himself and a nervous breakdown, depending on his mood. Today it’s the latter, so instead he starts singing. He’s too young to start following in Mr. Aizawa’s footsteps, he thinks. Ask him again in a couple years, maybe.

The thing is, even with a capricious Voice like his, Shinsou loves singing. Particularly under the shower. He thinks it might be something about the acoustic of the small shower stall. Or maybe it’s an ancestral memory summoned by the feeling of water down his back. Either way, he doesn’t get to do it often, with his roommates always in the way, lest he accidentally charms them. Still, Shinsou isn’t that much of an asshole to complain about it. They’re broke college students. It’s not like he could even begin to explain why they need to soundproof the bathroom when they already have rent to pay. Besides, he’s sure that they would get the wrong idea about what kind of... shower activities Shinsou wants more privacy for. He feels himself die a little on the inside just at the prospect of having such a conversation with them.

Today, though, he has the apartment to himself until dinnertime. He’s gonna take full advantage of that rare opportunity and sing to his heart’s content.

Or, well. He thought he had the apartment to himself, until he exited the bathroom and saw Uraraka in the middle of the sitting room. Standing as still as a freeze-frame.

His hair keeps dripping on the towel he’s draped around his shoulders. He towels at it a little to get the worst of the wet off, keeping his eyes on her. But Uraraka doesn’t move. Actually, Shinsou is pretty sure that she’s not even noticed him.

“Shit,” he curses, when a few seconds of contemplation make it pretty obvious that she’s not going to snap out of her daze on her own. Or blink, for that matter.

As if to prove him wrong, Uraraka turns in his direction at the sound of his voice, fixing him with her blank stare. He’s a bit unnerved by the lack of recognition in her dark chocolate irises. It’s like looking into the eyes of a zombie, he thinks. A real zombie, not like those in the movies.

“Uhm, hello,” he tries, hoping to get another reaction out of her. Maybe, if he just behaves like normal, the effect of his Song will wear off on its own.

Fat chance, uh? , he muses, when she doesn’t reply. He can never expect anything in his life to go smoothly now, can he?

He drags a hand down his face. “Oh, fuck me ,” he mutters with feeling. None of this would've happened if he'd just come clean about the real reason why he needs a soundproof bathroom. But between his antisocial tendencies and that one time he’s sleepwalked to the rooftop and stood there until Midoriya had come to find him, shivering but asleep, Shinsou can’t really give them other reasons to worry about him or his mental sanity.

A movement at the corner of his vision catches his attention. He almost lets himself hope that the Charm has worn off, but then he notices that the blankness of her stare hasn’t yet abated.

What the--

He watches as if in slow motion Uraraka slowly removing her coat, her purse, and… is her hand moving to grasp the hem of her dress?

Oh no no no this isn’t happening, that’s NOT what I meant--

“Wait!” Shinsou yelps, not proud of how shrill his voice sounds. Her hand stills immediately. Shinsou’s shoulders sag in relief. “Please snap out of it,” he says flatly.

She doesn’t, but she’s not trying to undress herself anymore at the very least. Success is in the details.

Shinsou crosses the room, stopping in front of her. He studies her face for a second, trying to come up with a solution to the unexpected woe that has befallen him during his perfect friday evening. He tries repeating the order in a few other languages, not really expecting it to work. He's still disappointed when it doesn't.

“ Of course it can’t be that easy,” he grouches out loud.

At times like this, Shinsou really wishes he was more in touch with his Voice. He could really use not having to call his dad for advice on how to break a Charm, and he could spare himself the embarrassment. Most Sirens his age already have their Voice under control. But he's always hated his and the curse it brought with it, so he'd never really practiced it long enough to tame it; let alone getting acquainted with it enough to know its subtle tells, or when it was being a pain in the ass just to mess with him.

‘ The first thing to know about your Voice is that it has a mind of its own. It doesn’t do what it doesn’t wanna do,’ his father had told him. ‘There’s no clear-cut way to learn how to control it. So you can’t expect what worked for another Siren to work the same way for you, son.'

The other thing about his Voice, Shinsou privately thinks, is that it’s an asshole. It’s just his luck to have inherited one the most capricious, stubborn magical entities his family had hosted in generations.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and tries a couple more orders aloud. None of them have the desired effect.

Uraraka's unblinking eyes are starting to become really red.

Should I get creative, too?

"Abracadabra," Shinsou deadpans. "Sim sala bim." Nothing happens. "Mischief managed." Still nothing.

Oh, for the love of--

Exasperated, he grasps Uraraka's shoulders and gives her a little shake, muttering a call of her name.

Uraraka blinks. Color slowly turns to her cheeks, and her eyes lose their opacity.

Shinsou doesn't have the time to marvel at the fact that physical contact of all things worked after everything he’s tried, because then Uraraka's staring at him again, this time in obvious surprise. "Oh, hello, Shinsou. Didn't see you sneak up on me." She laughs nervously. "I must've zoned out for a second."

Shinsou lets go of her at once as though he was stung. No shit.

"Sorry," he mumbles for more reasons than one, his hand raising to scratch at his neck. "I saw you were a little out of it and wanted to check on you," he explains. It's not a whole lie, at least. Uraraka still looks bemused, but that's better than blank, Shinsou supposes. He quickly deflects. "How come you're back so early? Didn't you have class until 7 pm today?"

The topic change does the trick, and she's suddenly back to her usual bubbly self: "Class got cancelled!" she replies around a grin, sounding entirely thrilled by the news. "Which means... Movie night!" she announces, pumping a fist in the air.

Shinsou swallows the groan that threatens to surface at the declaration. Goodbye to his peaceful, quiet, perfect friday evening.

Well. He at least owes her that much.

ii. karaoke

The second time it happens, it's not really an accident, but more of a calculated risk.

Don't tell anyone, but Shinsou’s really bad at math.

"No," he says, final. Two sets of puppy-dog eyes fixate on him.

"But why ," Uraraka insists, unperturbed by his dry response. "It will be so much fun!"

"I can't sing," Shinsou lies. It's a perfectly believable excuse not to go to a karaoke night, he thinks. They've never heard him sing. Or, well, heard and then remembered , he amends.

Uraraka punches him on the shoulder. Hard. "That's funny," she says, deadpan. "Have you ever heard Tenya?"

Next to her, Midoriya chokes on air. Shinsou feels inclined to emulate him. At least if he dies this conversation will be over and done with.

"I don't want to go," Shinsou reiterates, at the same time that Midoriya shrieks "That wasn't very nice, Ochako!" which, he realizes a beat later, was a rookie move. It gives Uraraka the chance to ignore him altogether in favour of addressing Midoriya instead. She's always been crafty like that, under that mask of perfect child-like innocence.

"Oh, shush, you," she indeed chastises her other roommate. "I didn't say it to be mean . We're all pretty terrible at singing," she concedes. "So you don't have to feel self-conscious, Shinsou-kun. We'll be amongst friends."

Midoriya doesn’t look pleased with that, either, but must decide that it’s not worth arguing over. “Yeah. The rooms are soundproof, you know? Nobody else besides us will hear you.”

Soundproof . Shinsou blames that magic word for the way he instantly reconsiders. In retrospect, he really should’ve known better than to trust his own control over his Voice. But the previous incident has made him cocky. He's now under the mistaken belief that he can tame his Song, if he really wants to. Not that Shinsou likes to tempt fate, but…

He really likes singing.

Incidentally, he also happens to... tolerate his roommates enough to spend a bit of his time with them. He can deal with the consequences if they’re limited to two people, he thinks.

"Fine," he eventually gives in.

After all, what can possibly go wrong?

Staring at the blank faces of his two companions, Shinsou rubs at his temples.

In retrospect, he really should’ve known that what worked before, wouldn’t have worked twice, with that asshole Voice of his.

It’s only an hour later that he manages to snap them out of their daze. Right in time for the end of their session, without a single song completed.

Midoriya and Uraraka swear never to come back, arguing that the place must be a fraud.

Shinsou regrets everything.

iii. stuck

One thing that legends about Sirens never talk about, is that his people are not any less susceptible to getting a song stuck in their head as humans are. And not just your average Siren Song, either, but any song. Figuratively speaking.

Let it be known that Shinsou isn’t pleased at all by this newfound discovery. After the karaoke failure, he’s been trying his best to prevent accidents like those from happening ever again. Shinsou is, if nothing else, a really considerate roommate.

It’s truly a shame that the same can’t be said about the other two inhabitants of his flat, he crossly thinks, taking the freshly baked cookies out of the oven. He lets them on the countertop to cool and takes a look at his guest. Todoroki Shouto looks back at him with a more blank expression than usual.

Shinsou rolls his eyes at him, then at himself, then at the universe for continuously subjecting him to this bullshit. Honestly, he fully blames this one on Uraraka. She’d been the one to barge into his room and shove her spotify playlist under his nose. Recently, she’s been obsessed with this new idol, Gunhead , and has been trying and failing to convert Midoriya to his sound. Shinsou has made the mistake of taking pity on her; Midoriya had never been the type to care much about the idol scene, despite being even more of a fanboy in other fields. Shinsou hadn’t, either, but Uraraka’s enthusiastic babble about the idol’s cute manner of speech had intrigued him enough to shove a earbud in his ear.

That had been his second mistake. Being a Siren himself, he really should’ve known the danger lurking behind a catchy rhythm, or an enthralling voice. He’d been foolish enough to believe he was above pop music.

How naive of him. The song, Battle Hero , has been stuck in his head ever since. Which has been an awful experience in and of itself, but not quite as much as unconsciously starting to hum it in the middle of the day. Not quite as mortifying as not realizing what was happening.

If it wasn’t for the fact that Todoroki hadn’t blinked in a while, his silence might have passed for his usual aloofness. Both of them were equally terrible conversationalists, so they never bothered with small talk. It wasn’t rare for Todoroki to just be content in awkwardly occupying the sofa, as he waited for Midoriya to come back from the gym.

Shinsou isn’t proud of how much time it took him to understand what was going on. With a weary sigh, he makes his way to his guest, sitting stock still on the small couch. “When she’ll ask, tell Uraraka she can’t have any cookies,” he orders.

Todoroki blinks out of his stupor, looking up at him in confusion. Shinsou wordlessly offers him some pastries.

After all, this time it had been entirely Uraraka’s fault.

iv. studying 

Shinsou would deny that it has become a pattern after that, because admitting it would be like announcing his defeat. He doesn’t take kindly to throwing in the towel like that.

Now that he thinks of it, that might be the only reason left why he hasn’t yet dropped out of college. At this point, sheer stubbornness and spite are his only motivators, he thinks, staring daggers at his German literature textbook. His German literature textbook stares back, unflinching and unsympathetic.

Okay, maybe a break is in order , he concedes, if he’s already having a battle of wills against an inanimate object. He’s never been one to let himself be fazed by adverse fate. So when he opens his door to go get a glass of water and nearly walks into Midoriya, he doesn’t lose his cool.

Okay, he might have yelped a bit at the near collision. But in his defense, he was taken off guard. There was no way for him to anticipate that Midoriya would be standing awkwardly a couple inches away from his door. Just like a creep. Last time he checked, Midoriya was going over his own notes in his room, music blaring loudly in his headphones, drowning out the sound of his muttering.

“What the hell?” Shinsou grumbles, taking a step back. It’s then that he notices that Midoriya’s unmoving; his left hand is frozen in midair as though he’d meant to knock and then thought better of it. Shinsou searches his eyes and yep, there’s the blankness he’s starting to get so well acquainted with.

It can’t be .

He’s pretty sure he hasn’t sung anything this time. He frantically thinks back, afraid he might have started doing it again absentmindedly. He comes up short. The only thing he’s actually said aloud in hours is---

No.

Fucking.

Way.

He sidesteps Midoriya and makes a beeline for the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Then he pulls out his phone, quickly dialing his father’s number. As he waits for the line to connect, he squares his shoulders for the conversation that is to come.

He hadn’t known that poetry of all things could trigger the activation of his Voice. It still sounds like bullshit, if he’s quite honest. How is he supposed to practice his intonation, if he can’t even read anymore?

“Dad,” he says when his father picks up, sounding dead inside to his own ears, “I need some advice.”

v. marathon

The tradition started sometime around their freshman year in college. At the time, it was just Midoriya and him, transitioning from an high-school acquaintanceship to a proper, if hesitant, friendship. Movie night was just the elected excuse to get to know each other better, Shinsou suspects. If he’s being honest with himself, Shinsou’s not quite sure why Midoriya even bothered with him. In his opinion, if you trust someone enough not to stab you in your sleep, then they’re good to go as a roommate. That’s what living together all boils down to, right? Tolerance. Compromise. The sanctity of individual coffee stashes never to be mixed together or used without explicit permission from their owner. Not stabbing each other in the back. That stuff.

Although, now that he thinks about it, he might be a backstabber type after all. He did Charm his roommates multiple times, without their explicit consent.

Well, whatever. He digresses. Those were accidents, anyway. He’s getting better.

What started as an innocent way to test each other’s boundaries has now become their way to unwind after finals, or a long day at work. Uraraka’s been trying to keep the tradition up twice a month, despite their busy schedules, and it’s something she always looks forward to. It’s a nice change for Shinsou. Not even his dry commentaries on the characters’ idiotic choices have prevented either Midoriya or Uraraka from enjoying their time together. Uraraka even seems to find them funny, which in Shinsou’s unbiased opinion contradicts the way she always punches him to make him shut up. As for Midoriya, Shinsou is positive that the aliens could invade Japan tomorrow, and he’d barely bat an eye; he’d devise an effective strategy to defeat them and still have supper by dinnertime. He’s just that type of guy.

The thing is, no amount of scathing comments is going to get him out of this one. Tonight has been elected as a Disney Movie night. Better yet, a disney movie marathon . Shinsou’s not sure how long he’ll manage to hold off from singing along. If the devil’s got a face, then it must be Midoriya’s stupidly oblivious, excited smile.

He’s sorting through their dvds with a glint in his eyes that tells Shinsou he’s gonna regret not playing sick while he still had the chance. Too bad he didn’t think of that sooner. Though he’s pretty sure that none of his roommates would’ve believed him.

If the way they bought ice cream and more snacks that they can possibly eat is any indication, then they’re staging this intervention for him . Shinsou likes to think he knows the people he’s shared a roof with for years. Uraraka prefers mochi to any other sweets. Midoriya only eats those cereal bars that are low on sugar and basically tasteless. Even someone as dense as Todoroki would’ve picked a hint like that.

Have they noticed just how stressed out he’s been, lately?

If Shinsou’s being honest, he likes his rommates’ absolute lack of subtlety. It made it easier to trust them when they started living together. No one that easy to read can possibly be a secret murderer. But that same lack if subtlety denotes a genuine care that sometimes makes Shinsou kind of want to die a little on the inside. Like right now.

To make things fair, they usually rotate between who gets to choose the movie. They also tend to avoid musicals since Shinsou told them he hates them (he doesn’t). But he thinks that maybe Uraraka saw his Hercules dvd in his room, because Midoriya is brandishing that very same dvd case in his calloused hand right now.

When did he--

"We can start from this one and then--" he trails off when he notices the horrified stare Shinsou's pinning him with. Then he pales altogether and starts waving his arms frantically around his face, trying to shield himself from his embarrassment. "Wait, uhm, don't look at me that way-- I, uhm, I promise it's not how it looks like! I'd never even think about s-sneaking into your room or anything, not that I even want to! You left this in the dvd player, or at least I think that was you because Ochako is more of a Ghibli fan and although I love disney movies I've never seen this one, but you also fall asleep a lot on the sofa watching tv, which explains why you'd forget to pick your stuff back up afterwards, not that I think that's a bad thing, either!" he gulps, trying to find his breath before he breaks out into an even more indiscernible, fast-paced mumble storm.

Shinsou can only blink at him. "Midoriya," he cuts him off, trying hard not to sound too harsh. He thinks he might have failed, when Midoriya flinches before he shuts up entirely. Or maybe Midoriya's just constantly that tightly wound. "It's fine." And it is. The cat is out of the bag, so it's no use trying to lie his way out now. Besides, he's just now realizing that he's not the only one that needs some unwinding. "I didn't finish it last time. Like you said, I fell asleep," he explains, scratching the back of his neck. Jeez, and he thought he was the observant one of the three. "Sure, we can watch it together. Just don't expect me to sing along."

Midoriya breathes an audible sigh of relief, his smile returning full force.

"It's settled then," Uraraka says, pushing the first movie into the dvd player.

It was a mistake.

Shinsou thinks there might be some sort of irony in the current situation he finds himself in. He’s not going to laugh at it, though.

By some stretch of luck, he managed to hold off from singing from the entirety of the first two movies they watched. Not even when the familiar, beloved notes of Go the distance started playing did he give in. That song always managed to make him cry as a kid. As an adult, too, but that was just the nostalgia speaking. Yeah. Nostalgia .

No, that wasn’t the ironic bit.

What makes Shinsou want to curl up in a blanket and hide from the rest of the world is that he sung along to I have a dream from Tangled . A song about subverting stereotypes and chasing your dreams might have appealed to his 5-year-old self. But Shinsou is a grown-ass Siren, already chasing his dreams. That song has no right of resonating with him still. Is his ego really that fragile?

This is so embarrassing. Dad is gonna laugh his ass off. I’m going to die.

Once again, Shinsou blames the catchy rhythm.

He steps into the bathroom to splash his burning face with cold water. Only then does he address the mess in his living room. With blank expression that clash horribly with their cheery singing, Midoriya and Uraraka are still clanging pots and pans together as they, too, sing about not giving up your hopes.

‘ I have a dream’?

Yeah, right , Shinsou thinks. It’s to disappear from the Earth .

+1

Shinsou’s glad he hasn’t disappeared from the Earth when next monday rolls around.

They’re going grocery shopping, which is another way to say that Midoriya isn’t going to tolerate ramen noodles for dinner again. Their fridge had been sadly empty for two days, but what actually spurred Shinsou into action was the lack of coffee. Sure, he might have developed an addiction problem. But Shinsou had rolled his eyes when Midoriya had insisted on tagging along, as though making sure to supervise his dubious life choices. He would’ve probably taken offense in that, if he wasn’t going to need the extra hands to carry all the stuff they needed back to the flat.

Shinsou’s making progress in prioritizing his battles. And well… Midoriya doesn’t need to know that his diet has sort of turned his arms into noodles, too. Besides, he’s quite sure that Uraraka still occasionally goes to bed without eating. Midoriya might not have caught on yet, thanks to Shinsou’s interventions, but... Hitoshi’s gonna take that as proof that he isn’t the least responsible adult of the three.

The universe decides to prove him right when Midoriya crosses the road without looking both ways first.

A lot of things happen at the same time. The driver of the car speeding towards him gets distracted by his phone for a second, not noticing him; Midoriya turns in the opposite direction, with a call of Shinsou’s name that gets cut off from his lips; Shinsou cups both hands around his mouth on autopilot, intoning the first song that comes to mind at the top of his lungs; then he’s shouting the order and launching himself bodily at Midoriya, sending them both careening on the concrete a couple feet away, just as the car swerves inches past them, coming to a screeching halt. The air fills with the smell of burnt tires, and Shinsou’s ears are still full of the sound of his ragged, panicked breathing. Under him, Midoriya lays still and unblinking, under his spell. Shinsou sits up. His eyes scan over Midoriya’s body, frantically searching for injuries that aren’t there, before he allows himself to take a painful, deep breath in.

“Are you okay?,” he croaks, panic not yet completely ebbed away.

Midoriya blinks. “Wha-- What just happened?” He seems to realize his surroundings a second later, because his gaze starts reflecting the worry in Shinsou’s own. “Shinsou, what’s going on?”

Truth be told, Shinsou never expected his final confession to happen over a glass of wine before dinnertime, but to be fair, they kind of need the comfort.

“Sirens are real ?”

“Yeah.”

“And you say you’re one of them. A siren .”

“Yeah.”

Uraraka slowly raises to her feet to retrieve her phone. "Okay, you're worrying me now, too. I'm sure Tenya wouldn't mind driving us again to the hospital for another check-up. What if you hit your head and we didn't even notice because we were so worried about Deku, oh gosh... I'm a horrible friend..."

Midoriya, who'd never been a stranger to nervous rambles, butts in, "Ochako, I don't think he hit his head."

"Oh, shush, you. You just got almost run over by a car. I'm not listening to you today."

Shinsou politely clears his throat. Two sets of eyes refocus on him. "If that's all, I'm going back to my room," he announces, deadpan as ever.

He knew they weren't going to believe him, so there's no point arguing. He told them the truth, and that's all it matters for now. He can deal with the consequences later. Frankly, the adrenaline has run out a long while ago, and it has left him exhausted.

They haven't even gone to the grocery store.

"You can order take out of you want, my treat. There's a flier on the fridge," he says, raising to his feet as well. "I'm going to bed early. Don't bother ordering for me. I'm not hungry."

"Wait," Midoriya objects, and surprises him by taking hold of his sleeve as Shinsou passes him by. He doesn't let go even as Shinsou turns to him in confusion. "Hitoshi... I'm sure you realize that your explanation... doesn't make much sense."

Shinsou makes a face as if trying to say 'duh' solely by raising his eyebrows.

Midoriya lets go. "But I believe you," he says, without an ounce of mockery in his voice. He truly means that.

What .

"What?" Uraraka echoes him a split second later.

Shinsou wordlessly sits back down.

It's obvious that Midoriya hasn't thought this through because he blanches when he realizes that he's the one supposed to explain now. Shinsou can understand the discomfort at being put on the spot like that. "Uhm, I know you're not a liar?" he says, and it sounds like a question. Shinsou wouldn't know. Do lies by omission count?

Uraraka's brows scrunch up. "Yeah, but..."

"And you're not stupid. Or crazy," Midoriya continues. "So what's actually going on?"

Shinsou drinks the last of his wine. Then he plops both elbows on his knees and grasps the roots of his fringe in his hands, tugging at them a little. "Would it be easier to accept it if I just showed you?"

Midoriya and Uraraka share a look. They nod.

"Charming both of you at the same time would be pointless, so we'll need your noise-cancelling headphones, Midoriya."

As he goes to retrieve them, Uraraka gives him a curious look. "Can you show me first? I feel like I'm the only one still struggling with this."

"Yeah, it's fine by me. Whatever." He drops his arms and meets her gaze. Her eyes are wide with anticipation, but there's no pity in them, just caution. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?" he asks.

The remaining reluctancy melts away at those words, and she answers an affirmative just as Midoriya comes back from his room.

"Okay," Shinsou sighs. "Let's get this over with."

Ochako puts the headphones on and plugs them to her phone, selecting a song at random.

When she gives him the okay, Shinsou starts singing. She notes that the effect of whatever he's done must be immediate, because Deku's eyes become unfocused and his posture slacks. Overall, if it weren't for the really convincing blankness of his usually expressive eyes, she wouldn't say that the... supposed change is really visible. What did Shinsou call it, again? Charm? It looks really underwhelming, if Ochako truly has to be honest.

She's still trying to decide whether or not they're trying to pull her leg in a very elaborate way. She's already gotten a horrible scare today when Shinsou called her from the hospital, so maybe this is their way to prank her? Maybe they want to make her feel better?

Shinsou signals for her to lower her headphones.

"So," he drones, looking like he'd rather throw himself out of a window than be here in this room right now. At least that’s familiar. She feels reassured by the fact that his brain functions are apparently still intact.  "What order should I give?"

Prank or not, Ochako decides she's gonna have some fun, too. "He'll have no recollection of this, right?" she asks to make sure.

Shinsou gives her a wary look, but doesn't tell her off or lecture her on ethics like she'd expect from their mutual best friend Tenya. He silently shakes his head instead. "Ask him to put on that faded All Might onesie he swears he threw away after our last move. I'm pretty sure he lied about getting rid of it."

If Deku's just playing along, Ochako has to hand it to him. He doesn't even bat an eye at that (in the most literal sense), not even when Shinsou repeats the order in his mellifluous voice.

Instead, Deku just ducks into his room, only to emerge five minutes later, clad in that ratty old thing.

"I knew it!" Ochako snickers, taking a photo of it with her phone. "What Deku doesn't know, Deku can't complain about," she chirps when Shinsou throws her an unimpressed look.

Prank or not, at least this proved fun.

When Midoriya's turn comes, Shinsou asks him the same question. It's a good thing he did, because Midoriya had dissolved in a fit of indiscernible mutterings, his fingers itching to put down his observations on paper.

"So, what's your order?" Shinsou presses, eager for this… explanation to be over. He has a feeling that his roommates aren’t taking this seriously.

"I, uhm." Midoriya curves his index on his chin, contemplative. "I suppose she's still unconvinced, isn't she? Uhm. How about dancing the macarena on the dinner table? I could film her and then show her the clip."

Shinsou blinks. Trust Midoriya to provide strategic thinking at a time like this, when normal people would still be struggling with the notion that brainwashing is real , and someone capable of it lives under your roof .

He'll never fully understand Midoriya.

"Sounds like a plan," he confirms, before repeating the order.

Midoriya starts recording from the moments Uraraka climbs the table, careful to leave the actual Charm part out of the video. Shinsou appreciate the concern for his privacy, at least.

But then Midoriya’s eyes narrow in fascination; they gain a sparkle of interest that tells Shinsou this isn't going to be the last he hears about the topic of his abilities.

Midoriya cuts off the recording. "Okay, I think that's enough. How do you snap her out of it? Does it have to be a verbal order or is it a physical contact kind of trigger? Although I suppose it has to be vocal, because what would happen if you accidentally activated your powers when you're on the phone, then..." and here it is, the barrage of questions.

Shinsou massages the bridge of his nose, bracing himself for a long, long night.

"You made me dance the macarena?" Uraraka guffaws once Midoriya shows her the video on his phone. "Deku, you'd better not be thinking of sending that video to anyone if you don't want Todoroki to know the truth about your All Might Onesie!"

Midoriya yelps and blushes to the root of his hair. "W-Wha-t ab-bout my onesie? I told you, I threw it away ages ago! Why are yo--"

Shinsou watches with detached interest the realization slowly dawn on him. If possible, Midoriya becomes even redder. "Oh no, you didn't ." he says in horror, sounding supremely betrayed.

Shinsou's amusement doesn't last long because then two wide, emerald green eyes lock with his. "You let her?" he asks, sounding small and heartbroken.

Shinsou is suddenly really interested in his phone, mindlessly thumbing through apps to avoid his gaze in shame.

Uraraka giggles harder .

When the novelty of the revelation wears off, they don't decide to soundproof the entire apartment like Shinsou frankly expected. Instead, they collectively admit that noise cancelling headphones will probably be cheaper on their wallets.

Overall, Shinsou thinks that they took it remarkably well.