Detention Roulette

Each stumbling step took him further into his grave.

So this was how it ended, huh...?

Satoru couldn't exactly say it had been a good run.

Swirling blue eyes gazed with cringing shame at the ground, their speed low and lazy. A whirlpool his future was being dragged down.

This might be the third-worst day of my life.

... No, maybe even second, he glumly reflected.

First place was still safe (and largely repressed), but who knew for how long.

Not only did he have to see Myoga practically macking on his weird androgynous boyfriend, but Karaburan patted them both on the back for basically flouting the rules in front of her! It was total bullshit! He'd made sure to let her know that as she dragged him to her office by the ear (also bullshit, by the way. what was he, a child?) but it didn't seem like Shiketsu's principal had appreciated his candor from how snappily she ordered him to take a seat.

Now, sat in a chair slightly too big for him, there was nothing left to do but dread.

As much as Satoru longed for a distraction, his guardian angel was sleeping on the job; the stinging of his abused ear did nothing to drown out the sounds of principal Anzu Nishima rifling through a filling cabinet at the other end of the room that surely contained his execution orders. A small hum of satisfaction left her, then another metal screech as the drawer rumbled shut.

Not even the sounds of paperwork falling across Karaburan's desk could draw Satoru's eyes up from his own feet. His hands curled around his knees, shoulders squared, in a loose grip that tightened with each word from the former pro Hero's mouth.

"Let's see, Satoru Tani... Class 1-A, age 16, about a dozen previous write-ups and/or detentions." As though you weren't responsible for half of 'em, you smug goddamn— "In terms of notable incidents, though..."

"Actually, why don't we review them together?"

---

Satoru Tani wasn't a delinquent by any stretch of the imagination. Not a model student either, but detention? Him? Never in a million years, he would've told you. Even when he and his sister wound up in Shiketsu of all places, it had always been his plan to fly under the radar. A nice, slow, drama-free student life, far away from the hero course freaks and support course orbiters. A few months in and everything was going according to plan—

So then how the hell was it that he was currently sat in detention, trapped in front of some of the loudest motherfuckers he'd ever had the displeasure to share a classroom with? Just because some bitchy teacher had a bad day and didn't like his sweater? Who cared if it wasn't winter semester, cold weather was cold weather...!

Thud. His forehead, which had been dipping for minutes straight, finally made contact with the desk. The second it did the man at the front of the classroom spoke up, eyes never seeming to leave the newspaper he was absorbed in.

"Up. No sleeping in detention."

Satoru couldn't take it. His head shot up, neon-blue eyes spinning wildly. "But what THEY'RE doing is okay?!"

He flung a hand back towards the trio of Inigo Myoga, Hifumi Takeda and Atsushi Orochi discussing the results of their latest excursion at the tops of their lungs, laughing and jostling each other.

The teacher (a hero Satoru would later learn was called Conman) finally looked up from his newspaper to grin. "Sorry, kid. I don't believe in non-corporal punishment. All I'm allowed to do is keep you kids in here and not in la-la land."

... That was... A joke, right?

Conman's grin widened.

Bastard.

Satoru groaned into his hands, which had risen to cup his face without him even realizing it. Behind him, a peal of laughter rose from the blonde one.

"Completely worth it! Everyone needs a taste of freedom, right?"

"Agreed. One detention's nothing compared to that look on Karaburan's face when she came up to the PA room... Pff...!" The white-haired girl laughed along the blonde.

"See?! I TOLD you guys that you'd love Shawshank! It's—"

He couldn't live like this any more. Satoru whipped around in his chair, chair screeching as he stood.

"STOPBEINGREDDITORSNOTEVERYTHINGHASTOBEAFFFFFUCKING.... Reference...!"

Satoru swallowed thickly.

At the head of the class, a newspaper rustled.

The trio blinked at him.

There goes my quiet school life.

And then they turned back to each other, starting to chatter amongst themselves again. Satoru's mouth opened before he brain could catch up.

"DON'T IGNORE ME."

Stupid goddamn hero course normalfags... Probably judging me and shit...!

The blonde tried a friendly smile, scooting his chair back slightly to look directly at Satoru. "Uhh... Sorry? Ya might wanna run that by us again, didn't catch most of it! You are...?"

"... Satoru Tani. I'm in 1-A." No reaction, only a blink from the blonde one so quick Satoru wasn't even sure he saw it.

The tall one piped up, apparently undeterred from the wideness of his grin. "Hah! Well, you're looking at future #1 Hero, Hifumi Ta—"

"Dude, shut up, you're hero course, everyone knows who you are already," Satoru grumbled. "Could you guys stop circlejerking about your PA room stunt already? You had fun, great, butdon'tactlikeyouwereonsomemission."

"Hey," Hifumi tutted. "Not cool. You can't just interrupt a man's intro like that."

Satoru sighed, slumping slightly in his chair as he turned away. Hopefully that would be the end of it—

"You didn't even feel a little more free? Not a millimeter?" The group's girl stared at his back with surprisingly wide, curious eyes.

God damn it. Brows furrowed as Satoru's head swung back towards the group.

"Oh, sure, I felt reaaaaaal fuckin' free when a bunch of fucking muzak starting blaring on my lunch break and made me spill milk all over my goddamn homework! Get real."

White-haired girl's face fell in slight chagrin, while the tall one's head cocked to one side.

"Bro... Did you just call Mozart muzak...?"

"Dude... Marriage of Figaro is like a top 3 opera..."

"Bro hasn't even cultivated an appreciation for one of the greatest Classical composers to ever live..."

Three heads shook back and forth with disappointment... And then another three heads as Inigo, Hifumi and Orochi followed the lead of Orochi's tails.

Satoru could feel his face twitching as he looked on this gaggle of idiots, and the word he'd been seeking finally rose to the surface of his turbulent mind:

Clowns.

He was surrounded by a fucking comedy act. If he didn't escape now, he'd get drawn even further in.

"Just... Lower the volume. Okay? For me? This is supposed to be detention." Not that you'd know it looking at their teacher.

Freedom. Satoru turned away, tugging a notebook out of his bag. If he was going to be stuck here, at least he could work a little on a new design he'd been dreaming up...

"Whatcha got there?"

no no no no no nononononononoNONONONO. NO. NO. PLEASE, GOD, N—

It was too late. The trio had smelled blood in the water, and were surrounding Satoru with their (surely insincere) friendly, grinning faces, pulling up chairs near the only other student in the room. His arms moved to cover the notebook's pages with frantic speed, material scrunching up and distorting beneath his sweater sleeves. Satoru's already-pale face paled further.

"Nothing! Just..." Ugh. His expression scrunched up. "Bot design. It's a hobby, don't fucking worry about it."

"Ah... Sexbot."

"He's probably working on something pervy..."

"It's a sexbot, isn't it?"

The green dragon accompanying blondie let out a small chirp. Satoru couldn't speak dragon, but it sounded... Unapproving.

All of a sudden, Myoga reached out, and his hand clasped Satoru's shoulder with a quiet intensity. It took all of his willpower to not look him in the eye.

"Satoru... No. Tani-san. If there's even the slightest ch—"

"IT'S NOT A GODDAMN SEXBOT," seethed Satoru. His hand slapped Inigo's away, shuddering at the brief contact as his swirling eyes squeezed shut. Gross. Reluctantly, his arms pulled back, revealing the rumpled battlebot schematics loosely scrawled across graph paper. The trio nodded as though they had any idea of what they were looking at, which they obviously didn't, stupid normie assholes...

"Cool. Embrace your interests! A real man ought to be able to puff out his chest and talk about the things he loves with pride, right?"

... Alright, maybe the tall one wasn't a complete waste of air.

"Even if that means accepting that you're a deviant, bro!"

Never goddamn mind.

Letting out a small whine, Satoru's head sank into his arms.

"Up. Told you, no sleeping, Tani-kun."

"Hey, Tani's kind of a familiar name... Don'tcha have a sister? Brown hair, pink eyes, about yea high, cute freckles and—"

"Give the guy a break, Inigo!"

"So about Shawshank..."

The chatter picked up again, twice as loud as before now that the group was sitting right next to him.

"Nnghhhghhhh."

---

Before anything else, Satoru poked his head through the door. Getting extra detention for skipping out be damned, he had to make sure he wasn't sharing a room with Myoga again. A quick scan of the room showed him only a single head of short, brown hair buried in arms as slow, gentle breathing shifted the mystery student's shoulders.

Alright. Not bad.

Moving as quietly as he could muster, Satoru sank into a desk a few seats away from the slumbering student. Seemed like the teacher wasn't here yet... He'd let the bastard sleep, and if the teacher was a hardass this guy could take all the lecturing while Satoru got to chill.

Foolproof, right?

Or it would have been, until Satoru's eyes snapped towards the front of the room, where a message was scrawled in big, bold text:

OUT ADMINISTERING JUSTICE. BE GOOD STUDENTS -MAJESTIC

... That looks like permanent marker. Someone's gonna be annoyed.

Still, looked like he got to skip after all! With a happy little hum, Satoru swayed to his feet, rea—

CRASH!!

An unholy clatter arose as his bag was bowled over. A waterfall of pencils, compasses and paper poured out across the classroom floor.

Like always, his mouth opened before any other part of Satoru could react.

"Fuck!"

And of course Sleeping Beauty decided to take that exact moment to wake up. An exhausted-looking brunette boy, eyebags (look away, look away...) nearly as deep as Satoru's as he seemed to take in the world around him with fuzzy surprise.

... alright, maybe sleeping beauty wasn't totally awake yet. Satoru would just say something reasonable, let him know they could both be outta here if—

"YOU'RE DREAMING."

FUCK.

He'd panicked. Brunette boy didn't seem to notice, clearly still in a bleary state of consciousness from the sand around his eyes (don't look, don't look...), but nodded along anyways.

"Yaaawn... Yeah, whatever..." Satoru could've sworn the boy let out the sleepy equivalent of a snicker... Surely not, right?

With that, mystery boy's head laid itself back down.

That probably bought Satoru a couple minutes. He knelt, scooping up as many items as he could. A clumsy grab for one of his compasses lead to the point burying itself in his palm and a hiss escaping Satoru like a deflating balloon. The tool dropped to the floor.

"Uh... Need help with'at...?" Still rubbing at his eyes, brunette boy slurred vaguely at the still-remaining school supplies, obviously not fully awake.

Alright, what the hell was this guy's name again? It was something stupid... Something chuuni... Something like...

Mirror Man? Sure, whatever.

"... I'm good." As much as he hated it, Satoru still replied before sweeping more supplies into his bag. Stupid politeness. But SOMEONE has to be the civilized one here.

["Ooookay... Mhm, where was I again...? Combos, combos... Takeda and... Take... No, 's not wha... Yawwwn..."]

Huh. Whiteboy here slurred in English when he was sleepy. Not for the first time, Satoru wished his mom hadn't been an English teacher so he could've ignored 'Mirror Man's' sleep-deprived and incoherent train of thought.

["Wonder what y've... Got..."]

The hair on the back of Satoru's neck rose.

For better or worse, he was well-trained. A lifetime of paranoia was a better teacher than any other. It had left Satoru with a good sense of when he was being looked at... Or when he wasn't.

And right now, it felt more like sleepy here was looking slightly above Satoru.

["Eeeeemit... formation... Hum, this's... Maybe with Imai..."]

"Oi." He had to resist the urge to snap in front of Mirror Man's face. Satoru wanted him to go back to sleep, not wake up any more than he had. In the meantime, Christopher's head lolled against his arms weakly. "Why aren't you dreaming about girls or something, dude?"

Blearily, suppressing a yawn and through half-lidded eyes, 'Mirror Man' squinted at Satoru.

"... you aren't one?"

Son of a bitch.

And he was speaking goddamn Japanese again. Satoru had to get out of here before the rest of this motherfucker's IQ points woke up. It was a scramble to push everything back in his bag before Satoru scampered up to his feet to bow. "OkaygreatI'mgoingfuckyoudetention'sovergetsomemoregoddamnsleepbye....!"

Leaving that room felt like a whole anchor had been lifted from his shoulders, yet the burden of having to interact with another hero course weirdo (seriously, he was in the school's flashiest course, what did he have to lose sleep over?) was soon replaced by darker thoughts...

My messenger bag... Isn't feminine, right? It was definitely the problem... I gotta get a backpack, or something.

... Hopefully he won't remember any of this shit.

Fucking freak. Was everyone in the hero course this bad?

---

"Agh! FUCKING ST- Ow! QUIT IT...!"

The halls of Shiketsu were louder than normal this morning, yet most of the student body seemed unusually quiet. They were keeping their heads down and avoided looking too long at the source of the excessive volume:

Satoru Tani, whining and screeching as he was roughly dragged via the scruff of his sweater by a stormy-faced Capture Cloth from the hero course.

"Lemme GO...! I left my backpack at th- OW!"

Those who looked closer could see a few flashes of red between the gangly, flailing limbs, lines from Yui's skin that looped around certain points of the boy's joints to help tug him along.

All Satoru could see was the floor.

But Yui wasn't dragging Satoru outside to mug him for lunch money or whatever the rumor mill was swirling about. It wasn't until he was finally released, sprawled across the ground, did Satoru look up to see where Yui had been leading him like a lame horse to behind the barn: the teacher's lounge, and more importantly, the not-entirely-unamused face of pro hero Rosethorn looking down at him.

Ah, shit.

"I assume you've got a good reason for this, Sagara." Poised, level-toned, neither accusatory nor supportive. The very image of a professional hero.

"... Little creep used his quirk on me."

"LITTLE?!"

Rosethorn sighed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Is this true, Tani-kun?"

Satoru recognized the tone she adopted. It was familiar. It was a lancet to the heart. It was the sound of a formality. She knew it was true, he knew, but she had to ask anyways.

The worst part was that she was right. Everyone on staff at Shiketsu probably knew about his... issue, at this point. Satoru shifted uncomfortably on the floor, dusting his knees off before wobbling upwards.

"That's not... It isn't like I can control it! This is total bullshit!"

Sharp look. "Language."

Yui smirked. Satoru smoldered. Seemed like she was enjoying not being on the receiving end of that one for once. He grumbled, wringing his hands against the light material of his summer uniform, before choking out as polite a sentence as he could.

"... Yes, Rosethorn-sensei. It's true."

Like she was following a tennis match, Rosethorn's eyes flicked back over to Yui. Ball's in your court now, kid. The delinquent seemed to know her teacher well enough to follow up.

"Rounded a corner, saw blue and then I just... Blacked out. Lost control." Her scowl deepened, tinged with something else Satoru couldn't place. "Came to a few seconds later next to this little dweeb."

"QUIT CALLING ME LITTLE...!"

As though putting together a puzzle, Rosethorn nodded in smug satisfaction. Satoru's whining, as per usual, was ignored. "I see. Why don't you two come with me?"

A long pair of legs unfolded as their teacher rose in one smooth motion. Rosethorn didn't bother looking over her shoulder to see if the pair were following her as she strode out of the room.

Not that she had to, with Satoru and Yui constantly snipping at each other.

The room they wound up in wasn't one that Satoru recognized. As the three of them crammed themselves around a small monitor, squinting at the snowy black-and-white footage, Satoru couldn't help but miss being dragged down the hallway. At least the hallway was spacious. A few seconds of click-clacking later, and the reason Rosethorn brought them here made itself manifest: grainy footage of the two students' collision.

On screen, Satoru and Yui lock eyes for only a moment before Satoru suddenly collapses, landing in a crumpled pile on the ground. "Yui" stumbles forward before her foot hooks around Satotu's prone body, clumsily joining him on the floor with a crash.

Satoru sank deeper into his chair. Yui nearly started to snicker at his clumsiness before remembering it was still her body he was eating it in.

Back on screen, "Yui" rubs at her head, wobbling back up to her knees... And gawping at the body in front of her.

With a blink, her spiral eyes return to normal, and the unconscious Satoru silently begins to stir once more.

Rosethorn smiled contentedly. "See, Yui? Nothing bad happened when you lost control."

The angst Yui had been shouldering seemed to visibly drain away from her as she nodded curtly, still standoffish.

"... thanks, I guess. Wasn't that worried, but still."

Huh?

Satoru blinked.

Wait, that's what this was all about?! Did they think I copped a feel while in her body or some shit? What the FUCK...! Shouldn't he be incredibly offended by the implications of this? He... He should say something, right?

His mouth opened, then closed as the look of unfettered relief on Yui's face killed the bitching in his throat.

He wasn't that creepy-looking...

Right???

"Well, that's that!" Rosethorn smiled sweetly. Her hands clasped warmly together, and Yui's expression seemed to lose the hard edge it had been carrying since the halfway. "Ah, but you still have detention, Tani-kun. And a written apology to Yui here. I don't want to hear about another incident like this again, understood?"

That was it?! A nice bonding moment between student and teacher while Satoru got the grand privilege to go fuck himself? His jaw hung open before he exploded, knocking his chair back in leaping to his feet with a whine.

"Come on! It's not like I can just STOP...! Karaburan already made me go see Hijack, but he said that— well, he said a buncha stuff, alright?! But I don't wanna end up basically quirkless! What am I supposed to do, go around with stupid-ass horseblinders on?!"

Rosethorn made a thoughtful little sound.

---

"... Stupid fuckin' Rosethorn. Stupid school, stupid superhuman society, stupid cucked-ass support items..." Hands jammed in his pockets, Satoru slouched his way towards the classroom. How many detentions did this make... Four? Five...?

He never bothered counting in the first place. Satoru never thought he'd need to count past one. His sister was gonna have a field day.

Somehow every time he ran into one of those annoying-ass hero course dickheads in detention, it felt like Satoru's life grew measurably worse. Never by a lot, but the more it happened, the more things slipped away from him.

Well, he'd had enough of living like one of those dogs with the veterinarian cones around their heads. Fuck that. They could give him detention for the rest of the year, kick him out of school, but they couldn't make him go around looking like even more of a freak! Ripping those blinders off felt like being a free man again. Worst two weeks of his life.

... so far, anyways.

Today, apparently Ippon was in charge of detention. If you'd asked Satoru at the start of the year, he'd have groaned and rolled his eyes at being stuck at the mercy of such a hardass teacher. 'Discipline' his ass. Not like any of these teachers gave a fuck about kids outside the hero course.

Now the idea of being in a detention where the students weren't allowed to run their mouths sounded like heaven.

Even when the class's only other occupant was a brown-haired girl he didn't recognize, Satoru didn't sit next to her. Nice try. He'd fallen for that one before, but he wasn't going to get caught slacking again. She could be some second or third-year hero student he didn't recognize for all Satoru knew.

Ippon nodded to acknowledge Satoru's entry, gesturing to the seats.

"Please, take a seat, but remember: detention is no excuse to stay idle!" His hand thumped against the table. "I expect you both to reflect on your actions in here. If we can't train your bodies, at least we can hone your minds!"

Whatever. Couldn't be worse than another one of Rosethorn's fucking essays. Satoru nodded vaguely, slipping into a seat as he tried to look 'reflective,' whatever that meant.

Twenty minutes passed in silence. Only the room's ticking clock punctuated the silence, but even that small interruption soon drowned itself in the monotony and became background noise asBRRRRRRRRING!

BRRRRRING!

Satoru jerked up in his seat, nearly falling out until his hands slapped against the desk to stabilize himself. Huh? What? Fire alarm?! The pace of his swirling eyes sped up the more they frantically darted across the room, eventually falling on...

Ippon, smiling bashfully as he clutched a small cellphone between his enormous sausage fingers.

"Oho? It seems I'm being called away." Ippon's gaze fell across daydreaming Tani and the brown-haired girl glaring a hole through the nearest window. "Don't worry, sensei isn't in trouble!"

... neither of them seemed particularly worried. Ippon's smile slipped. "Erm, I'll be back in a few minutes. Continue refining your morals!"

The door slid gently shut behind the enormous teacher. One beat passed, then a second...

Just as Sally McCarthy opened her mouth, Satoru piped up with a loooong sigh first, turning in his chair to face her.

"Haaaagh... Alright, fine. What are you in for?"

The girl blinked.

"... huh? I was—"

"Yeah, yeah. I get how this works by now, okay?" Satoru's eyes rolled. "This isn't my first detention. The moment the teacher steps out, eeeveryone wants to flap their goddamn lips. Let's play nice and make fucking conversation."

She scowled.

"What? God, do you have some kind of attitude problem or something?!" Teenage angst and loathing that she clearly didn't quite know where to pin danced across the girl's face. "I don't even know your name, and you think it's acceptable to talk to a complete stranger like that?"

"... Uh—"

["Your parents must have taught you zero manners! Aren't the Japanese supposed to be polite?! I mean, honestly, you're completely...!"] The more her anger flowed out of her, the faster she spoke, and the faster she spoke, the faster she switched over to her native tongue.

What's with all the damn foreigners in Shiketsu?! Is Karaburan a fuckin' globalist shill on top of everything else?

Before Sally could rant any further, Satoru's hands came up in a placating gesture of surrender. "Alright! Alright, calm down, forget I said anything...! Was just trying to break the ice... 'm Satoru Tani, okay? I got stuck in here for taking off my stupid support item..."

That seemed to mollify her, if only a touch. The brunette girl smiled smugly, folding her arms in front of her. "Better. Still not hearing an apology, though."

Never in a million years. "Yeah, yeah... Don't push your luck. But, uh... The question still stands, I guess."

Sally huffed, her gaze drifting away from Satoru and across the classrom. "Some bi... Student from the support course decided to get all snippy with me in the bathroom. It escalated. She wouldn't apologize. A mirror got broken, but it wouldn't have had to if she'd just...!"

Seemed like reliving the memory did nothing to make it any less frustrating. Sally let out a loud, wordless sound of discontent as her hands strangled emphatically at the air. "Ugh! At least we're not in the same room."

Girl has a temper, doesn't she?

"Support course? She had it coming then. They're all freaks." Satoru scratched idly at his neck, doing his best to look at anything other than Sally's eyes. Her scowl abated slightly at the agreement.

"I don't know if I'd go that far, but... No regrets. Do they really give out detention here just for taking off support items?" Her tongue clicked in obvious disapproval.

He nodded. "Is that not how they do in..." Satoru wanted to say America, but maybe not. "Wherever you're from...?"

"Totally! It's like night and day!" As though unconsciously mirroring Ippon's earlier movement, Sally slapped her hand against the desk. "Japan does some things right, but the way they treat God-given quirks? It's practically criminal! Whatever happened to freedom, huh?"

Uh oh.

"Do you... Like vigilantes?!"

Satoru nearly cringed at the sound of his own voice. He could practically feel his swirling pupils pick up speed, spinning in excitement as he leaned forward, eyes sparkling. One of his legs started bouncing with a nervous, joyful energy.

"... Eh?" Sally's face went blank. The immediate shift seemed like too much for her brain to process.

"It's just, uhm... I know th-that Americans have a lot of... Ah, sorry, don't wanna assume, but you guys have a lot of militias and laxer quirk laws and stuff... And I'm really interested in vigilante activity! They're like the real heroes, if y'think about it...! Hold on, I have—" Satoru spun away, quickly reaching to dig through his backpack as a dopey grin softened the edges of his features. A two-handed grip pulled out one of his damaged notebooks with a flourish. He smiled down at it as he flipped through the weathered pages.

"I've been tracking a lot of vigilante activity here in Kyoto lately, actually! Online, of course. Like, did you know that a bunch of the smaller criminal enterprises here have been slowly getting gobbled up by bigger villain groups?! The Redhats got wiped out earlier this spring, but there's a lotta contention whether it was a turf war or a vigilante that did it... But with the smaller groups that they usually go against being cannibalized, there's a lot of talk about... How vigilantes are gonna... Adapt..."

Cold reality finally caught up with Satoru. The notebook suddenly seemed much stupider as his grip tightened, scrunching the careful notes up, and he only dared to allow himself a short peek upwards at the girl sat across from him. The book was pulled back, close to his heart in more ways than one.

Sally's own expression seemed conflicted. Did he trip on a landmine or something? No, she thinks you're a fucking sperg. Dumbfuck. Holy SHIT how many 'don't reveal your powerlevel' threads do you have to scroll through before it gets through your goddamn HEA—

"I don't... Dislike them, no." It felt like Sally was answering from a million miles away. "After the past few weeks... I'm still confident in my beliefs. In the way things are done where I grew up. But I've had a lot to think about too."

Sounded like she'd been through the wringer.

But... Positivity...! A semi-lukewarm opinion! That was good, right? Maybe it was the start of something!

This wasn't so bad. Sure, she was a foreign girl, but spitfire tomboys were a rare quantity. His cheek came to rest on his hand as he slipped into daydreaming again - a nice house, a future together, 2.5 kids...

"... Ah, hold it, did I ever introduce myself? It's Sally. I'm... New. Hero course transfer."

All at once the blood drained from his face.

Crack.

The delicate future that Satoru had been building in his mind shattered like Sally had swung a hammer into its side.

Hero course transfer... Hero course transfer... H e r o c o u r s e t r a n s f e r . . .

There was no justice. He couldn't stop himself, the distant sound of spaghetti leaving denim and hitting the floor echoing in the back of his mind as Satoru leapt to his feet red in the face.

"Why didn't you... Deceiver! Jezebel! Typical goddamn foid behavior...!"

He expected an explosion. A blowup. Another bullet, in a window this time maybe. When the red finally cleared from his vision, though, Satoru saw...

Flabbergasted.

"What the Hell is a foid?"

...

"Um. I don't have to tell you that."

Her expression hardened. "Satoru Tani, I swear, if you won't tell me then the moment Ippon gets back...!"

His mouth fell open.

The world slowed to a crawl.

And Ippon came to the rescue.

"I return! Sorry about that, children. Very important stuff, you'll understand when you're older. Sadly, it seems our time together will have to end early. I hope you've reflected on and internalized your actions, learning to become better citizens in here!"

His sunny smile was bright enough to be the perfect flashbang. An oblivious distraction. Before Sally could get her damned question out, Satoru was already stumbling out the door, half-zipped backpack flapping like a cackling mouth behind him as his footsteps echoed down the corridor.

Maybe Ippon did have a point. Satoru had reinforced a very important lesson here today, spinning around his head as he stopped to scoop up his shoes and trek towards the school gate.

Jesus Christ I hate women so much it's unreal.

Outside seemed to be a news crew, and a throng of rubberneckers. Typical normies... Time to book it home. He was content to ignore them, until a short woman suddenly shoved a microphone into his face as her compound eyes locked onto a potential quote for her story.

"Are you a student here!? What are your thoughts on—"

Satoru's head jerked away from the mic, face scrunched up in ferret-like disgust. "Ugh, are you from KBS? Buzz off, fucking parasite!"

...

---

"HOW COULD I HAVE POSSIBLY KNOWN SHE WAS A MOSQUITO MUTANT. WINGS: TUCKED IN. PROBOSCIS: NOT PRESENT. I'M—"

"Shush." Rosethorn shut Satoru down with a single sound and a stern gaze. Her arms were crossed, index finger tapping against the fabric of her sleeve in obvious disappointment. "Watch the volume, Tani-kun. Regardless of your indiscretion, you are still a student of Shiketsu and are expected to conduct yourself accordingly."

"Ngh..."

"Especially in front of a member of the press."

"Nnnghh..."

Why? Why was it always after he met some hero course dipshit that his life took a downturn? Was it a curse? Some kind of quirk...? It sure felt like someone was laughing at his expense. His teeth were about to grind themselves down to the nerves.

Rosethorn sighed.

"Well, I won't say you're entirely at blame, but you still need to be punished. I want an essay, three pages at minimum, about mutant sensitivity on my desk before you leave detention today. Room 204."

With a quiet groan of affirmation, Satoru shouldered his backback and slumped out of the teacher's lounge. "Yeeees, Rosethorn-sensei..."

Hm.

For some reason, Rosethorn stood as well. And was staying... Extremely close to Satoru, even as he sped up his pace towards the staircase. He could feel a trickle of sweat run down the back of his neck, turning his head back to glance at the teacher.

"... Um, Rosethorn-sensei?"

Her eyes shut in a wide, teacherly smile (or maybe just to avoid his quirk). "Yes, Tani-kun?"

"Why are you following me?"

"Because, Tani-kun, I'm in charge of detention today!"

"Nnnnnnnghhh..."

He was gonna draw the foulest fucking soyjaks of her when he got home.

Before she pulled the classroom door open, Rosethorn came to a halt in the hall, Satoru only narrowly avoiding a sudden collision.

"Oi, what's th—"

"I just remembered," she hummed thoughtfully. "Detention today might be a little unusual, Tani-kun. Try to be gentle? And I'm still expecting that essay."

Her smile had an unspoken undercurrent: don't screw this up.

"Unnnnnnusual HOW?"

No answer. Rosethorn opened the door, revealing (no points for guessing this one right, Satoru) a student already there.

Only this student wasn't flesh-and-blood. For a moment of wild paranoia, Satoru felt like he was being pranked, eyes immediately narrowing. Goddamn Rosethorn...! Is she mocking me? Does she know about my hobbies?!

And then the robot fucking moved. Her hand rose up to gently wave at her fellow prisoner.

"Hello! I'm Takara Tame. It's nice to meet you...?"

"... What the fu—" Satoru's nervous eyes flicked over to Rosethorn wearing an unhelpful smile. Is this okay? She's just talking in front of you...!

From how she casually strolled over to the front desk and sank into it, their sensei had no thoughts on the matter apparently.

Stormclouds swirling over his head, Satoru forced himself to jerkily step towards robot-girl's seat, sinking into a desk near enough that he could still flee if worst came to worst.

"Nnnnnnnnnnghhhh..."

"Um. Are you okay?" Robot-girl's eyes blinked, so quick that Satoru couldn't catch what material her eyelids were made of. Are those cameras in her eyes, or...?

He forced himself to look away before he could find out.

"I'm ffffffffffine." His clenched teeth and scrunched up face said otherwise, but Takara looked polite enough that she probably wouldn't push the matter. Satoru turned away, digging around in his backpack for a couple sheets of paper. Stupid essay... Stupid mutie SJW bullshit... This is probably Saurus' fault somehow...

"So... What are you in for, heh?" An awkward attempt at socialization shattered over the back of Satoru's head like a beer bottle.

Maybe if he stared at her, she'd go away? Satoru found a safe spot at the edge of her chin, and flatly fixed it with an unblinking, unamused gaze.

"Hate speech."

"... eh?" The robot girl tried a smile, but it felt even more artificial than the rest of her.

"Never mind. What about you?"

"Oh, I'm not in detention for real." Takara beamed.

Jesus Christ.

Alright, he couldn't not dig in to whatever this was. A hand rose, flapping as though to say hold on, hold on. Satoru squinted.

"What do you mean, you're not in fu- detention for real?" She had to be delusional, right?

"I... Oh, this is so much more embarrassing saying it out loud." Takara let out a small, self-conscious little laughing sound. "I thought it would help me build some common ground with my classmates, since so many of them have been here! And... Maybe, if they knew I got detention, they'd think I was ᶜᵒᵒˡ ˡᶦᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉᵐ..."

She trailed off at the end there, but the first half was bad enough.

A cautious glance to Rosethorn at the head of the class only yielded a perfectly-arched ruby eyebrow and an expression of mild curiosity. By all means, Tani-kun. YOU try to solve this teenage girl's friendship woes.

"You thought the best way to make friends was to go to fake detention?"

"I have friends," she protested. "Hoge has been wonderful, as has Sally! I'd just... Like some more. And finding points of commonality is a great way to make friends! That's not wrong, is it?"

"Oh my god."

She was from the hero course...! He recognized those names! Or... One of those names, at least. It was hard to forget the immediately previous detention shitshow he'd been through.

His head buried itself in his hands. Why is everyone in 1-D a goddamn lunatic.

He really should just go back to his essay.

This wasn't his problem.

It wasn't even Takara's problem, really. There was no way she'd have trouble making friends with those fucking normies if she just pushed herself more.

But...

"Alright, fine, lemme blackpill you a little. Satoru Tani's wisdom is free for anyone with functioning ears." God damn his mouth. Satoru sat up slightly in his chair, rubbing his temple. "Everything normies say about friendship? It's B.S. I'm gonna keep it crystal clear with you, everyone in this school is a snake and is looking for their next chance to stab you in the back. Social hierarchy is a pyramid, and there's no way to climb to the top without stepping on some fingers."

His mind drifted back to the hundreds of anecdotes he'd absorbed over the years on quirkchan. Human beings were foul, they were repulsive. Satoru shook his head at Takara's naivete. "Best you can do is find fair weather friends whose interests temporarily align with yours, and ghost 'em when you've wrung 'em for all they're worth. There's no such thing as TRUE friendship, not in this cucked modern-day soyciety. Get it? You might not like it, but people are shallow."

With a sense of finality, Satoru folded his arms in front of him and nodded contentedly. Maybe I could tell her about physiognomy next... Takara, who had been staring with her head cocked to one side, smiled sweetly.

"Ah, I see. You're very silly."

Fuck.

"Thank you for trying though, Satoru...! Even if I don't agree, this has been a valuable experience for both of us I hope. Maybe we could be friends, one day...?"

FUCK. Satoru panicked, all his composure flying out the window as he scooted back in his seat to get any distance from Takara.

"I... D-don't mess with me! I won't buy your lies that easy! I'm—" Self preservation kicked in for once. Don't say you're a sigma male. "I'm a schizoid with dark triad traits...!"

Distantly, he could hear Rosethorn snort.

"Seriously? I'm so sorry to hear that... If you ever need help with your struggles, though, you can always turn to me!" Takara's optimism felt like a prison spotlight shining down directly upon him. Any brighter and he'd melt.

A crumb of self-consciousness finally reached Satoru... Or maybe it was just the last clump of dirt falling on his head after he'd dug his own grave. Ears burning crimson, Satoru's shoulders squared as he turned away from Takara and furiously started scribbling across his paper. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Rosethorn suppressing a small laugh.

"J... just leave me alone! 'm gonna... work on my stupid essay..."

Anything to get away from having to open his mouth again.

"... and that brings us here."

Karaburan set down the stack of papers, neatly squaring them together once more as Satoru continued to stare at the floor.

"I have to say, Tani-kun, I'm a little surprised. Your records indicated that you were a studious kid, no previous issues at your middle school. Is everything okay at home? This many incidents in one year, even minor ones, doesn't seem in-character."

The carrot. He knew better than to reach out for it, all she was probably doing was baiting him. She hadn't even brought up the reason he'd been dragged here yet, so the moment she sensed weakness, he just knew Karaburan would pounce.

Nice try.

"Fine. Normal." The typical teenage monosyllabic reply, utterly uninterested in engaging. He heard Karaburan sigh, leaning back in her chair.

"... Why don't you join the support course, Tani-kun?"

Huh?

Before he could stop himself, confusion drove him to look up. A triumphant smirk stretched across Karaburan's face.

"Or at least our robotics club! You've got the grades for it, and I've heard that your little battle robots are cute. All this misbehavior is coming from unspent energy. You're not engaging with your school life to the fullest, are you?" An earnest question.

So that's what she really wanted out of this. Satoru's expression darkened.

And volunteer to get slaughtered by UA? No thanks.

Everyone knew that UA's support course was lightyears ahead of Shiketsu, especially when it came to robotics. Karaburan could pour in as much money as she wanted, but when it came down to it, the difference was night and day when just looking at the two schools' entrance exams. Interschool competition only ever ended one way.

Not a chance in hell that Satoru would be up for being humiliated like that. He emphatically shook his head. Every time someone extended a hand out to him, it felt like they were plotting something behind their back.

Why was life so unfair to him? What did he do to deserve this?

Nothing, clearly. Absolutely none of his problems were of his own creation.

"No thanks, ma'am. I'll stick to the general education track."

Karaburan frowned. "I see. That's a shame, and a waste, but I'll respect your decision. Consider it an open offer. As for your latest stunt..."

And there it was: the stick.

"LocaLoca-sensei is hosting detention today! How lucky for you."

Satoru suffered through a long lecture about respecting women and not shouting in the library and not making threatening overtures or whatever lame shit came to Karaburan's mind, nodding along and giving the occasional grunt of false affirmation, before she finally let him go.

For once, there was more than just one other student in the classroom. A gaggle of girls at the back of the room stared at Satoru for a moment... Before erupting in a series of hushed whispers.

"Is that...?"

"No way...!"

"I dunno, he looks..."

Satoru was grateful he could only catch snippets. It made it easier to assume the worst. Stupid gossipy-ass femoids... He slumped into a seat near the front of the room, just so he wouldn't have to look at them probably discussing about how much of a deviant he was.

The world was set against him... He'd have to redefine his grindset to try and overcome this. Bad times make great men, right? Maybe this means I'm a great man in the making...

... Satoru could practically smell the copium.

He couldn't even be surprised when he heard one of them get up and start towards his desk. This was just his life now, wasn't it? Constantly on the backfoot. His head pivoted towards the intruder, flatly staring. A white-haired catgirl... A second-year in the hero course, right? A name tickled the back of his mind - Nene... Something.

"Hey...! Freckles-kun, can I ask you a question?"

"Fuck no."

Nene's catlike grin only stretched wider. "Oho? That surly attitude, the sweater... You ARE the list guy...!"

His stomach dropped like a stone. Please, no. Has it already spread this far? It couldn't be.

"Hey, hey, what's the list even for?! I've heard like twelve different stories about it already! C'mon, you can share with your senpai, right?"

Satoru could feel the beginnings of a migrane coming on. Was it too late in the year to transfer to another school? Someplace far, far away... Someplace that didn't have a hero course, or annoying teachers, or people that constantly called him a loser just for having a shit quirk...

"Was it really a school quirking list? But everyone says that your quirk isn't nearly strong enough to try that, let alone with all the hero course girls on the list! Actually, I heard it was only girls, but you missed a couple..."

She just kept going and going and going...! Was it morbid curiosity? Was she enjoying tormenting him? Satoru's head thudded against the desk, both arms coming up to cover his head (and still-stinging ears). Just drown her out. This isn't happening. You're at home, in your room, on your computer...

"Was I really on there too? I'm almost flattered! Most people are saying the list was something scandalous, though, so m—"

Satoru felt himself reach his breaking point.

"IT WAS A SMASH OR PASS THING. SHUT UP. Ngghghhghhhh...!" Muffled slightly by the desk. Self pity washed over Satoru. Maybe he should just let himself drown in it.

"... you passed on every single girl in the school?"

"NO. MAYBE. It's... Complicated, just stop talking already...!" A wretched, sniffling sound escaped him. This sucked. Why couldn't he just go home? But it felt like just one more detention would end up with him kicked out of school...

Loser.

Maybe it was more accurate in more ways than one. Lately, it felt like all Satoru did was lose. Lose respect, lose his privacy, lose the millions of unspoken socialized games and rules that everyone in Shiketsu seemed to know but him. Couldn't he get just one win?

He really needed a win, right about now.

And where the hell was Localoca?! Shouldn't she be here to put a stop to this? Satoru peeked up and oh jesus christ the catgirl was RIGHT up in his face. He flinched, even as she continued staring unblinkingly and his gaze tried to find anywhere to land but her cat pupils.

"Are you crying? Hey, no tears, go to your happy place, List-kun!"

"I'M NOT CRYING." Close to it, though, the harder he seethed. Satoru sniffled again. "Stop... Being such a fake bi—"

All at once, three things happened.

Nene dissolved into a peal of laughter.

Satoru surged up from his seat, mouth open to shout at the catgirl at the top of his lungs.

... And the lockers at the back of the classroom suddenly burst open with a sound of joy and gallantry, a pick blur bounding forth with her hands clasped happily together.

"I'm sooo~oooo proud of my itty-bitty students! Yay! I just kneeeeew that leaving you unsupervised would be totes fine~! You behaved like model children the whooooole time, so you can leave early for being soooo—"

LocaLoca paused, staring as Satoru started going off on unhinged misogynistic rant directly in the catgirl's face, who was laughing so hard she needed to grip the edge of a desk just to keep her balance.

Satoru and Nene did not get to leave detention early.

As the sun dipped towards the horizon, only one thought swirled through Satoru Tani's head.

I fucking hate the hero course.

Ganbare, Tani-kun...