Chapter Text
It starts with a question.
“Hey Aizawa!” Kaminari sprints after his teacher on 1-A’s post-final-bell scattering to the four winds. “Have you got a sec?”
Aizawa grinds to a halt, then pivots like he’s on a slow-moving turntable, perhaps curious that it’s Kaminari of all people chasing him down for after-school requests. Usually it’s the – no offense – nerdier members of the class who want just that little bit more of Teacher’s time.
“Yeah?” Aizawa sounds like (and is) someone with places to be.
“You’re training Shinsou, right?” Kaminari bursts like an overpressured tap. There’s a shifty look-around moment on Aizawa’s part: like everyone hasn’t worked that out already. The only thing that’d make it more obvious is a Disciple of Eraserhead stamp on Shinsou’s forehead.
As the preliminary rush of students from classrooms thins out into stragglers, Aizawa levels his best unimpressed stare at Kaminari: namely, his normal expression for most of his waking hours. “So?” They don’t hide it, the shadowy underground Hero and his not-all-that-unlikely prodigy, but that doesn’t mean it’s something they like anyone talking about.
“So you’ve probably got his phone number.” It’s just for a moment – and not long enough that the starry-eyed electric blonde actually picks up on this detail – but one of Aizawa’s eyebrows quirks, peeking out between two rancid locks of his hair. “Can you give it to me?” Kaminari seems nervous, justifying himself with a speedy, “It’s for a good reason, I swear.”
1-A’s homeroom teacher looks like someone trying to find the end of the line at a crowded deli counter. “Which is…?”
Kaminari, amazingly, doesn’t seem to expect this kind of questioning over his intentions, and has to come up with a spluttery, “Well I… we did that training exercise with him, didn’t we? Because he wants to transfer onto the Hero Course.”
So far, this isn’t anything Aizawa doesn’t know already, and therefore, constitutes a waste of his time. His listless expression conveys this ‘get to the point before I drag your ass over the line myself’ sentiment of this unwanted recap.
“Okay, so I–” If they didn’t know better, anyone would think Kaminari’s making this up on the spot. “I was thinking he might wanna hang with us, yanno? If Shinsou transfers onto the Hero Course, he’ll be crazy behind and stuff. I was gonna message him and ask if he wants to meet up and…” There’s a pause here, of the time it might take to swap one thing out and deftly slot another into place, upon deciding last-minute that the original plan wasn’t the way to go, “... study.”
Aizawa’s stare could freeze a pond in the middle of summer. It’s not meant badly, but if there’s one thing their teacher is, then it’s protective of his extra-curricular student. The one who failed UA’s one-size-doesn’t-fit-all entrance exam, and instead got noticed by Eraserhead – the Hero before the teacher.
Maybe it’s Kaminari’s hopeful smile, the way he almost vibrates with wanting the thing – it’s simple enough, and well-intentioned enough (at least on paper) to be good for all of them. Probably. Kaminari’s gesture is thoughtful, kind under a cheery polish of just being friendly, but that’s the peppy glue of 1-A all over. Binding people like static sticks hair to a balloon.
“... Alright,” Aizawa relents cautiously, probably thinking this is the kind of thing he ought to check with Shinsou first – but then Kaminari’s got those golden puppy eyes. What’s the harm it could do? Pulling his phone out of a pocket in his ever-functional onesie, Aizawa opens up a contact page that he covertly shares with Kaminari in the almost-empty school corridor, just a few students flowing to-and-fro like the passing of leaves dropped into a stream. “Just don’t tell him I gave it to you.”
“Deal.” Kaminari’s practically glowing, effervescent with his hard-won bounty.
Shinsou’s making a new friend – whether he likes it or not.
Hitoshi is getting his ass handed to him by Aizawa (as usual) when the first message arrives.
Electric6: hey dude!
If Aizawa spots the utterly perturbed look that crosses Hitoshi’s face when he checks this message during one of their breaks, the stone-faced teacher-trainer keeps it to himself. Even moreso the way Hitoshi frowns over his reply, hastily typed before returning to the regular ass-kicking.
SH: who is this?
It’s another few rounds before coming back for a water-and-phone break, by which point a series of messages have arrived over approximate thirty-second to one-minute intervals for the last… fifteen minutes. Hitoshi reads the series like unspooling a long scroll, long enough to bounce to the floor and roll out of the nearest door.
Electric6: It’s Kaminari
Electric6: … from the training exercise the other day
Electric6: i’m in 1-A
Electric6: the electric guy
Electric6: you saved my ass
Electric6: u… remember me rite?
Electric6: wow you’re really hurting my ego here dude
Electric6: are u busy or blanking?
Electric6: wait that sounded crazy
Electric6: it’s fine if ur busy
Electric6: i was gonna ask if u wanted to hang out with some of us in 1a for group study sometime
Electric6: it’ll be rly awkward if ur blanking me
Electric6: ….. R u there?
Electric6: Shinsou?
Electric6: shit this is shinsou rite?
Electric6: sry if this is some stranger
This incredible downward spiral hooks the corner of Hitoshi’s mouth and pulls up a smile, which a keen angler like his mentor wouldn’t miss, even if Aizawa never says a word about it. Hitoshi’s got a word for Kaminari, though.
SH: wow
Hitoshi thinks a moment longer before adding the question most pressing in his mind.
SH: how did u get this number?
And this is when it starts.
Electric6: i guessed it
Hitoshi’s quicker to answer this time, and really, the training break with Aizawa is running over But Aizawa is plugged into his own phone – texting Mic, probably – so neither of them are dragging each other back on the dojo floor in a hurry. There’s only so many times Hitoshi enjoys getting smacked around by Aizawa in a day, even when it is for his own good.
SH: well that’s not true
Electric6: okay okay u got me
Hitoshi lies to himself, just a little, watching those three dots that tell him another reply is coming, and truly it’s dumb all over. Hitoshi’s not making friends with those dumbasses; even if they’re not that dumb, and only a few of them are asses. They’re just the competition, and Hitoshi’s going to feel worse about having to push out someone he’s gotten to know enough to feel sorry for.
Except Kaminari appears to care about Hitoshi’s plan not to make friends literally 0%, chatting and praising Hitoshi during the exercise like they were the best of buds already. Of course Hitoshi remembers him – the guy with the plan that saved their asses in the challenge Hitoshi needed to (and did) win if he wanted to be taken seriously as a transfer student. The win he practically owes Kaminari for, if Hitoshi hadn’t saved his ass too.
No lie, it’s a little flattering to see Kaminari blabbing about Hitoshi saving him—even if they’d all have been done for without Sparky’s plan when they were down on numbers and Hitoshi couldn’t figure his way out fast enough to do anything; that honour went to Sparky, who came into his own and scraped shit together just in time for the curtain call.
Hitoshi still has a lot to learn. Aizawa had warned him it’d be different doing training exercises with the kids on the Hero Course, at least compared to anything he’s done before, but he still feels like he went in woefully unprepared.
Yet all this admiration and goodwill dies when the three dots turn into a message.
Electric6: i got it from ur mom
Hitoshi snorts and then pulls a straight face when Aizawa looks over, putting away his phone. Let the bastard stew. “C’mon teach. Let’s get back to it.”
Denki’s got an issue.
The issue is, Shinsou won’t answer his texts. It’s been over an hour. Was it the your mom joke? Denki’s got a bit of a mouth and a wicked fast pair of thumbs, sure, but it’s all meant in good fun.
Lying on his bed, the dorm balcony doors open so an evening breeze that smells like rain wafts through the air, Denki feels extra conductive, like any moment he’ll drop a few thousand volts with a single frustrated yelp. Because maybe Shinsou doesn’t know Denki well enough yet, which means Denki has to swallow his pride and go back on what he’d thought was a terribly funny burn, at least for high schoolers (which they are so it’s allowed).
Electric6: was it the your mom joke?
Electric6: sry if u mad
This gets Shinsou talking again, if only to repeat the same question as before.
SH: just tell me who gave you my number
Denki still thinks he’s hilarious and merrily taps out a response that can’t go wrong like the mom joke. This one’s got to be gold.
Electric6: i got it from the wall of the girls bathroom
But Shinsou doesn’t reply, and that clock starts ticking again.
“Idiot,” Denki congratulates himself, and doesn’t follow up with the ‘they told me it said to call you for a good time’ he’d been planning on account of being so damn funny all the time. Not that Denki would know what’s written in the girls’ bathroom, but he could totally imagine they would have Shinsou’s name doodled up in the stall somewhere – guy with a face like that, bone structure you could hang a coat on? “Real smooth, dumbass.”
Electric6: okay… that sounded wrong
It’d be easier if Denki could just tell Shinsou where he got his number, but Aizawa made him promise. Well, not exactly promise, but Denki’s afraid of getting extra homework if he rats on his teacher. Maybe Denki’s not the sharpest tool in the box when it comes to writing assignments and not zapping himself so hard he’s stupid with-a-side-of-stupid, but he’s not so dumb he’ll shit where he eats.
Electric6: i got your number from midoriya
Already patting himself on the back for this cunningly plausible lie, Shinsou hardly even hesitates to reply at this point. Denki’s not sure which is worse – Shinsou not replying, or replying the way he does.
SH: he doesn’t have my number
SH: you’ve got a minute to tell me where you got it before i block you
Electric6: no!!!!!
As soon as he’s hit send, Denki realises that was way too many exclamation points. Good job looking desperate, dude. Since when was making friends this hard?
Electric6: FINE… i got it from someone who didn’t want me to tell you it was them
There’s a pause now, the three dots that loom and then disappear and then loom again, while Denki lies on his back in his dorm room wondering why Shinsou has to be so offish. He’s like a mix of Bakugo and Earlyroki with cool hair and cheekbones to die for. Denki just wants to be his pal, what’s so bad about that?
Finally the dots turn into… more dots.
SH: … It was Aizawa, wasn’t it?
Electric6: haha no way dude
Electric6: like i’d get ur number from a teacher
Electric6: that’d be so embarassing
It was, and still is. A piece of Denki’s soul drags itself out of his body, crawling around on its belly to accusingly ask his cheeks why they have to be flushing like he’s auditioning for the starring role of a new shoujo anime. This is all so incredibly uncool.
SH: it would
That’s all Shinsou sends, and Denki gets the crushing feeling that he knows for sure now. Not just that it was Aizawa, so Denki’s screwed on that front already, but also that Mr. Cool (Denki’s nickname for himself that no one ever uses) is a shitshow, and Shinsou should never speak to him again. At least, that’s what the ‘what the fuck are you doing, shitshow?!’ voice in Denki’s head is wailing at him right now. But who listens to that guy?
Denki doesn’t know what else to say, too mixed up with how not-like-he-thought-this-was going-to-go it actually went. He does the only thing that seems sensible at this point and calms down with a nice distracting wank. Looking at anything on his phone would be too much of a reminder of Shinsou (who might even message, and wouldn’t that be a distraction?), which is extra-double-triple weird, so Denki settles for the ceiling and an image in his mind of a super-hot babe with awesome bone structure.
Yeah, Denki reflects after cleaning himself up and pretending not to check the same abruptly ended message chain several times, like it’ll be different the next time he scrolls up and can point out pretty much every instance in which he should’ve Not Said The Thing and – because he’s him – totally did say it. He’s definitely a shitshow. Shinsou just better learn to like it.
Denki’s nothing if not persistent.
“You gave my number to that… Kaminari. ” Hitoshi knows his name, it just feels wrong to say for some reason. Like proof of guilt over something Hitoshi’s got no idea he did in the first place.
Aizawa looks like he hasn’t got a clue what Hitoshi’s talking about, as if butter wouldn’t melt in Aizawa’s mouth, and there’s no way he’d ever do something as transgressive of their careful conventions as give Hitoshi’s number to one of his students without asking Hitoshi first. Even if that’s exactly what the guilty fuck did.
“It’d be a good idea to spend some time with them,” Aizawa says like he’s remarking on the weather or how Hitoshi’s holding up in ass-kicking today.
Things have quieted down with Aizawa’s underground Hero work for a bit, though Hitoshi suspects that might be deliberate. Not taking cases is the primary reason for not having any, in spite of how much Aizawa makes out like he isn’t pulling back to give Hitoshi a break from looking at grisly crime scenes after school twice a week. Maybe Aizawa does it for himself too, but Hitoshi’s not convinced.
Something will come along before long, thankfully, and they’ll be back on their bullshit soon enough. For now, the only bullshit is the begrudgingly got-a-point lecture coming out of Aizawa’s mouth like meat through a grinder. “You’ll have to work with them again if you’re getting into the Hero Course. No harm in starting now.”
“So why’d you give it to him?” Hitoshi questions. He sounds more irate than he likes being about anything as schoolyard bullshit as this. Aizawa should know better, and if Hitoshi had ever done the same, he’d be in the bottom of a shallow grave eating dirt right about now.
Sure, Kaminari was one of the ones in 1-A Hitoshi sorta got on with, in a sense of letting the sparky blonde rail at him about how great Hitoshi was. Hitoshi probably shouldn’t find that annoying – and he doesn’t, not really – it just puts him on edge. Any one of those fucks could be his ticket into the Hero Course, and it’s just his shitty luck that the one to get dropped to make room for Hitoshi would be the first one he starts to like.
Aizawa shrugs, undermining the notion that this was a calculated act, and says, “He asked.”
Hitoshi knew that, really, it’s just weird hearing it. Somehow Hitoshi hadn’t imagined it’d be someone like Kaminari who’d come scratching at Hitoshi’s door, even if he did smell the enticing aroma of new friend inside. The dude seems popular enough—what does he need more friends for?
“Well, he won’t stop fucking messaging me.” If it’s not inviting Hitoshi to their group study in 1-A’s fancy student dorms, which Kaminari keeps bringing back up with the unwanted familiarity of acid reflux, it’s a stream of ridiculous reaction images and internet jokes that couldn’t be a bigger cry for attention than if the plucky idiot marched right up to Hitoshi and yelled “NOTICE ME!” in his ear. But Hitoshi doesn’t know what he’d do if Kaminari did that.
“I know you like to think you can’t let yourself get close because you might have to go up against them,” Aizawa declares like it’s true, which is unfortunately because it is, “but you stand a better chance at getting a transfer if you let yourself learn from them, Hitoshi.”
Hitoshi sighs, because he knows that’s true, it’s just complicated getting to know new people – what they know about him, for starters. It’s easy enough to get along with them, but that’s half the problem. He doesn’t believe in sleeping with the enemy.
Aizawa’s right, as usual. But it doesn’t mean Hitoshi has to roll over right away. He pulls up the latest string of ridiculous memes that Kaminari has been spamming and flicks through the endless reaction images as he holds the phone out to Aizawa, a ‘look what you’ve done’ accusation that goes, “You call that learning?”
“He’s just trying to get a reaction,” Aizawa points out neutrally, and Hitoshi knows that Aizawa knows Kaminari even better than he’s letting on. Aizawa’s taught the guy long enough – longer than he’s taught Hitoshi, and no, Hitoshi is not jealous. Much.
“Yeah.” An image of a grumpy-faced white cat with a ridiculous rabbit hat and the caption “ fuck” slides to a stop under Hitoshi’s finger, and he hates how it makes the corners of his mouth want to curl. It’s so stupid that it shouldn’t be so funny. “I’ll say.”
Electric6:
Denki will keep up a steady campaign of meme spammage until Shinsou replies, blocks him, or literally just starts a punch-up in the playground. The last one might be a wild bet, but Denki wouldn’t mind a little impromptu sparring session with Shinsou, see how he measures up head to head. At least it’s some kind of reaction.
It only takes a day of sending Shinsou every stupid meme and reaction gif Denki’s bored fingers pluck out of his always-charged phone before the tough little bastard cracks. Denki’s busted harder nuts than Shinsou before – which sounds much weirder once he’s had the thought than when he was having it. But Denki always gets his guy, so Shinsou finally responds during one of the final classes of the day.
It’s not a great start, but it’s still a start.
SH: you’re pretty annoying
Denki does what he does best, and bluffs like a motherfucker.
Electric6: na that’s just my incredible charm
Electric6: is it working?
Denki’s good at making people like him, and more than that, he enjoys it. Getting someone on-side has always made more sense to him than math and science or quoting dates from dusty books ever has, and the target of his friendship laser is as accurate as a sniper rifle. His approach doesn’t change for the girl or guy Denki’s got his sights on – he’s just being friendly, anyways.
And if Denki wants someone with his laser cannon of friendship, he gets them.
Unless that person is Shinsou.
SH: no
Denki pouts, which has Ashido giving him a curious ‘what’s up?’ pantomime from the next desk over. Shinsou must be in 1-C right now, sitting in some General Studies class while Denki spaces out in Hero, and Denki has a thought about how weird it must be for him. Having worked side-by-side with the guy, Denki knows Shinsou’s got exactly what it takes to be a Hero as much as any of them. Except they’re here, and Shinsou isn’t. Hardly seems fair.
So Denki’s not giving up, because even if they are the competition in Shinsou’s eyes, everyone needs friends. Nothing wrong with a little friendly competition anyway. Denki pulls up a pic and hits send with vindictive pleasure.
Electric6:
If Shinsou doesn’t find that funny, maybe he’s a villain after all.
Denki slips his phone away and focuses back on the class for a bit, feeling almost bad for wasting time when Shinsou would probably do anything to be in this seat right now, listening to Midnight go on a tangent on the history of capes in Hero costumes (basically: they suck). The buzz of Denki’s mobile in his pocket is an unexpected thrill, and not just because it’s right next to his junk.
Slyly, fully aware that Midnight will literally bitch-slap the device out of his hand if she sees, Denki slides his phone back out and pretends his heart doesn’t go on a victory circuit around the inside of his chest when he sees Shinsou has replied.
Good news: it’s a reply, and it’s even another reaction image—like Denki’s been peppering Shinsou with until he gets the reaction Denki wants. Bad news: it could be a lot better.
SH:
And if that isn’t a crazy mixed signal?
So Denki does one of the things he does best, and doubles the fuck down.
Electric6:
Denki doesn’t figure Shinsou for the kind of guy who wouldn’t tell someone to stop if he wanted them to – could even make them stop with his whack-ass quirk – so unless Denki’s reading the words ‘stop messaging me’ , then he doesn’t believe Shinsou truly minds Denki spamming him. It’s not personal; Denki texts just about anyone who’ll reply to him, and it’s inevitable that a groupchat exists where he, Sero and Mineta mostly post dank memes at each other. That’s a hell of a collection to draw on for the purposes of annoying one very resistant stray from the pack, who Denki’s identified with his deepest sheepdog instinct. To bring everyone together.
It takes Shinsou a while to reply to this one, but then maybe he’s just paying attention in class – like Denki isn’t. Amazingly, Denki happened to want to be a Hero so he wouldn’t have to spend a lot of time with his butt parked in an uncomfortable chair at a desk having to sit still and focus. Denki just thinks better when he’s moving around, so even though he wants to pay attention in class, mostly, it’s still difficult to follow what Midnight’s teaching them all of the time.
SH: will u stop the memes if i come to your stupid group study thing?
Denki’s stomach bounces like a dog about to go for walkies, and he thinks about just replying “ YES!!!1!!!” but is then so immediately conscious of how excited the thought alone makes him that he needs to backpedal away from it – before he makes himself look criminally uncool. Desperate isn’t a good look on anyone. (This, he has learned from observing Mineta. No control group necessary.)
Instead, Denki triples his double-down.
Electric6: u can’t stop the memes
But then Denki thinks what if Shinsou doesn’t come, and with a bolt of panic adds the awkward reply he’d just been putting off anyway.
Electric6: there’ll basically be a bunch of us chilling in the 1-A common room after class tomorrow
Electric6: it’ll be cool u should come
It’s hard to explain just why Denki is just so mortally desperate for Shinsou to agree to spend more time with him. But that’s all he wants: more time with Shinsou, getting to know anyone who seems so effortlessly cool – and with this whole secret-student-being-trained-by-frigging-Eraserhead, straight up badass. But even if Shinsou’s literally too cool for school, Denki’s totally convinced the guy still needs friends. Especially if Shinsou says he doesn’t. In Denki’s experience, those are the people who usually need friends the most, drawing his attention like a dog whistle. Kinda like the way Bakugo was at first, with a little more deadpan sarcasm than explosive temper; and, even though Bakugo still acts like he hates Denki at least 40 percent of the time, Denki knows they’re best buds and it’s awesome.
It takes a while, and Denki truly considers spamming some wet-eyed seals or kittens or puppies in the meantime but resists – in case Shinsou’s still thinking of saying no and Denki will have to negotiate.
SH: i guess i can stop by
“Hey,” Ashido whispers across the aisle between their desks at Denki, and he whips his head up to the front with gotcha-guilt. His phone buzzes in his hand a moment later.
Acid_trip: wat r u smiling about???
With his hand in his lap and an expression like he’s totally listening to Midnight talk about the integration of support gear as part of costume design (duh) while typing out a reply… or two:
Electric6: nothing
Acid_trip: i don’t believe u
Electric6: OKAY Shinsou said he’d come to group study tomorrow after school
Acid_trip:!!!
Acid_trip: i didn’t know we were doing that
Electric6: well we are now
There’s almost always people in the common room doing homework together after school, and just because it hasn’t been officially planned doesn’t mean Denki can’t invite Shinsou. Hell, even if it’s just him and Shinsou, Denki wants his study date—er, group study.
Hitoshi thought that agreeing to meet up with Kaminari – and presumably some of the others, though Kaminari’s the one who asked – would put a stop to this meme harassment campaign. More the fool Hitoshi.
It arrives in the evening, when Hitoshi’s at home, curled up under a blanket beside his Ma, with a cat purring on his toes like a vibrating footrest.
Electric6 : dis u?
Kaminari must be in the dorms, it occurs to him, and Shinsou’s kind of glad, almost, for a moment, to still be just a day student rather than boarder at UA. After a moment of consideration, Hitoshi pulls up a search window and enters a single word, picking out the most appropriate search result to send back.
SH:
Hitoshi doesn’t bother to put his phone away, watching the bouncing dots tell of instantaneous reply. It’s kind of nice having someone blowing up Hitoshi’s phone who Hitoshi can count on to literally always reply, usually within seconds.
Electric6: is that supposed to be me????
SH: you’re a regular sherlock holmes aren’t you?
Electric6: that hurts bro
Electric6:
He’s so ridiculous, Hitoshi thinks with that same fish-hook grin dragging his lips into a crooked smile. But hell if it isn’t amusing. He pulls another Pikachu.
SH: found a better pic
SH:
Electric6: i can’t believe you’ve done this
“What’s that smile all about?” Hitoshi’s Ma picks up over the soothing background of dramas they’ve seen every episode of before (which doesn’t stop them being good).
“Nothing,” Hitoshi denies as quickly as he can, reminding himself he’s trying to get into the Hero Course to work hard and become a Hero, not to make friends with idiotic blondes that don’t think before they speak – or text. (Reminds Hitoshi of a certain English teacher, and if that isn’t an interesting coincidence.) “Just someone from school.”
“Yeah yeah, that’s what you always say,” his Ma says knowingly. She nudges Hitoshi with a foot wrapped in a fluffy sock that makes her steps slippery and fucking silent across this floor – usually just outside his bedroom door when Hitoshi’s on the phone to various ‘friends from school’ (which is an umbrella he puts over a pretty wide range of relationships). Even Aizawa’s technically a friend from school.
“I’ll be home late tomorrow,” Hitoshi announces as if it’s totally unrelated, turning his phone face down to resist looking at it, even if it’s just to scroll back through the ridiculous stream of stupid pictures Kaminari has sent to him. He does that too much recently, even though the images are all the same as when Kaminari sent them and don’t get any less dumb. But somehow they do get funnier.
“You already trained with Aizawa this week,” his Ma points out with scrupulous diligence. No more than two nights a week, bla bla bla, something about keeping Hitoshi’s life in ‘balance’ and not stuffing every waking moment interning with a legendary underground Hero. Like Hitoshi’s life has ever been balanced in the first place.
“It’s not that, just this friend who wants to… study.” How Hitoshi makes this sound so conspicuous is a complete and utter failing on his part, and he’s definitely got more cool than this to keep if he’s actually going to spy on the kind of homework they’ve got those dorks in 1-A doing. Glimpses of the future he covets, sweet and tart like pomegranate seeds.
“Oh, that’s what she called it?” Hitoshi’s Ma means well, but her sarcasm misses the mark.
In a split-second decision, deciding it’s better to correct now than have to be weird about it later, Hitoshi says, “He did, yeah. A guy from the Hero Course.”
Hitoshi’s Ma looks thoughtful, and he worries for a moment before she just asks, “Not the one you fought in the sports festival?”
Hitoshi shakes his head. “No, but he’s in the same class as Midoriya.”
Ma’s heard Hitoshi complaining about Midoriya more than enough to remember the name and holds a dim view of anyone who would punch her son out after breaking a supposedly unbreakable brainwashing quirk. Hearing a vibration from his phone, Hitoshi makes himself wait a moment before checking.
Electric6: ur still coming tomorrow rite?
Hitoshi’s stomach flips, warm and fluffy like a pancake, which is stupid because it’s homework, and Hitoshi won’t even get a fucking grade from it. At least that means he doesn’t have to pay much attention. With a vindictive grin weaseling its way onto his face, and to hell with what Ma thinks if she sees him smirking and wonders what it means, he begins typing a reply.
SH: only if you don’t send me anymore memes
Hitoshi doesn’t mind them – well, it’s a little distracting – but he wants to know if Kaminari can resist the urge, or if he’ll just word-vomit at Hitoshi in text format instead.
Electric6: WHAT
Electric6: why
Electric6: do u hate fun?
SH: i just wanna see if you have any self control
It feels natural in the moment, but only after reading the message back does the orchestra in Hitoshi’s gut start to play him a wobbly aria that suggests he might have come off sounding a little weird. Like he needs to test Kaminari’s self-control in the first place.
But thankfully – or unfortunately – Kaminari’s as indefatigable as ever, his last message before leaving Hitoshi alone for the night settling the question of whether or not he could communicate in ways that weren’t memes.
Electric6:
