Chapter Eight

A/N: The Sports Festival Arc is nearing, and I'm trying to lengthen the Chapters during this timeline perhaps with the other arcs too. My word limit is usually below or between a thousand but I want (hopefully) this fanfic to have few chapters as much as possible, since the series itself has many seasons.

I will post future updates again if there are changes. Thank you and enjoy your reading!

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"You're an idiot." A friend would say something like that to her. But if you're raised with a woman who treated her child both in her own kin and discipline—the phrase could mean anything. But for [Y/N] it meant her mom had enough of her.

"Instead of thanking him you yelled at his face because he knew it all along?" [Y/N]'s mom shook her head while she slumped further in the cushions.

"It caught me off guard mom!" She protested. "And his face was right up close to me!"

A scoff from the older woman. It wasn't cruel, her mom was never grim, even if she always had a hard expression, but never sugarcoated her words or the world either. A kind of person where she rarely says what she means outright. "I haven't met this Monoma boy yet. But from the way you describe him—" she paused, assessing her daughter with sharp eyes. "—he doesn't seem the type to do something without reason."

"Yeah, right..." [Y/N] rolled her eyes. She grabbed the nearest pillow on the couch to place it on her lap as a leverage for her arms before turning her phone on. She ignored the flooding notifications in Instagram and instead tapping the Messaging application. Before the election of class representatives and group chat, Pony had insisted to exchange numbers within their circle. A total of five contacts in her list: besides Pony she had Kendo, Rin, Komori...

And Monoma. With the recognizable comedy and tragedy masks as his profile picture. Her nose crinkled as she spoke. "If you do meet him with others in the picture it might change your mind."

Her mom raised a brow. "A pain in the ass?" [Y/N] nodded, staring at the last message from Monoma, something about him judging how she takes notes only to be left on seen. She heard her mom chortle, making her glare at her. "Isn't that why he got you wrap around him?"

The older woman easily caught the thrown pillow.

"You're not helping." grumbled [Y/N] as she stands up and head towards the stairs. But a sharp gust swept through the room before she could take a step. The pressure was at her waist, not harsh but firm enough to earn a yelp and trip her back a few feet until she landed on the couch again with a soft thud.

"The lecture is not done yet, princess." [Y/N] only groaned in reply while her mom lowered the volume of the television. In the living room there was a sliding glass door, and through the pane she watched her husband for a while. Sitting by the patio, feeding wild birds, his tail curled by his side. He looked peaceful, it almost worried her. "He's a good match. And not because he fits your type, but from what you've told me today..."

[Y/N] turned her head slightly at her, the older woman's gaze returned with a rare smile. "...He knows how to take care of people. Even if he has a bad mouth."

"But still be careful. If this goes any further and leaving you crying in the end, he'll be answering to me." Her mom patted on of her cheeks before standing up. She left the television on, despite neither of them was paying attention. [Y/N] followed her mom with her eyes, watching as she stepped out to the back garden and sat next to her dad, voices low.

[Y/N] sighed, leaning back into the couch her mind swirling about Monoma. His name flashed in her phone, unblinking that it made her bite her inner cheek, thumbs hovered over the screen. Her stomach twisted at the memory, how his hand felt and his gentle touch when he returned her earring...it was embarrassing yet intimate to the point it nagged her that she might've overreacted.

She didn't hurt him. Monoma smirked wider when she yelled, but still. It doesn't mean he can't feel. The earrings, now safely in her room, seemed to mock her. A small thing yet it threw her off in a way she hadn't expect. And Monoma handled her outburst calmly, so natural and responsible. That thought made her wonder if he noticed her panic, or worse, the way her gaze lingered longer than it should have.

'Sorry for yelling at you. I didn't mean it. Thank you really for the earring.' She read her text many times before tapping send. She observed, and after a few minutes a dotted bubble appeared then a reply.

'About time you admitted it.' It made her scowl, but another dotted bubble appeared. [Y/N] waited.

'I only gave it back because it's yours. I...sincerely apologize, I suppose, for making you uncomfortable. Not that I meant to, of course. It must've been your favorite pair and after what happened' Another bubble, but this time it was gone for a moment, then popped up again. It made her wonder.

'Try not to be reckless next time, [Y/N].'

Monoma sat at one of the benches in the locker room. It was after training hours, which he and the rest broke a lot of sweat and keeping in track of their Quirk improvement. He never told anyone until the continuous training that he can copy and hold three Quirks but cannot use at the same time except switching before his five minutes ran out.

It was a buzz around him, his classmates taking their time to change back into U.A.'s school uniforms. Out of habit Monoma would be one of those people who dressed first, yet he's still in those dark blue pants with vertical white lines on the sides and P.E shirt zipped open, revealing his white undershirt. He acted like nothing happened during that time, still being the annoyance he was with [Y/N] and others. But he still caught himself drifting away with his thoughts.

'I don't want anything happening to you.' His phone is in one hand; the last message he sent staring at him. The utterance left a mark in his mind. Why would he ever thought of that? His eyes narrowed. Why would I consider sending her that message?

He could've sent it. [Y/N] might take it as his usual flair and tease or made her madder. Chances are the latter part from what he assumed, that's why he didn't type the former message. He was lying to himself, even if he went with the logic there was still some sort of feeling that he couldn't quite place it yet.

It bugged Monoma. But that won't stop him from being friends with [Y/N]. He did tell her before that she was interesting, and she proved it many times by being herself. Which led him more in asking himself why did he insisted to put her earring for her? Why did he hold on to her hand longer? To be gentleman? Sure, his father raised him to be one for the ladies. But why is it different?

"Yo, Monoma." He snapped out of his thinking just in time to catch a water bottle that was thrown at him. He turned to Tetsutetsu with an unreadable expression. "You good man? Did your old guys said something or what?"

Monoma chuckle, shaking his head. He hid himself smoothly, a resting smirk on his mouth while he shuts his phone. "Please. My parents are far too busy to entertain complications."

Tetsutsu only blinked in response, obvious confusion etched around his expression. Monoma twisted the cap open and took a sip. The water was cool against his throat, but it didn't wash away the unease that he's feeling. "But your concern is touching. Really, I'm moved."

"Thanks man!" Tetsutetsu beamed, then slumping a little. "Why you gotta be dramatic every time though? Sometimes I can't understand you dude."

"It's called finesse, my friend." Monoma replied, standing up from the bench to go to his locker and change clothes. "Something you know nothing about."

The exchange drew a few chuckles and chides. It was good. He liked it that way—keeping things loud, full of movement, so no one noticed when his thoughts wandered. He unzipped his P.E. shirt the rest of the way, switching it for the crisp white button-down of his uniform, then slipped on his vest, smoothing the fabric carefully like he could iron out the feeling inside his chest too. He needed distraction, and luckily the next day Mr. Vlad had an announcement that made everyone excited.

"Starting next week, the hero course will conduct an off-campus training." their teacher informed, standing behind the class podium with crossed arms. "We'll be focusing on rescue training. Disaster and other emergency situations will be taught to the class with another Pro Hero present."

"The location will be at USJ, and the call time will be the same as afternoon training here in the main campus." He called Kendo. "I'll be sending more information which you can later announce it in the class group chat."

The room erupted after Vlad King left. Tetsutetsu was the loudest, but nobody stopped him, the rest were buzzing in eagerness to what the facility would like and who'll be the Pro Hero that they will work with. Monoma drifted his sights unconsciously to [Y/N], who's celebrating with Komori, Shiozaki, and Kodai. She was lively, doing the talking most besides Komori, while to two shared their anticipation in a quiet reservation.

Full of life, like the rest. He watched her laugh, shoulders bouncing and eyes scrunching slightly. Her presence filled whatever space she was in. It was loud without being overbearing, warm without asking for anything in return. She was expressive in a way he wasn't. Genuine without feeling like she forcing herself to fit in.

Must be admiration, or fondness. Monoma guessed, he still wasn't sure but for now he'll settle to that thought. He felt the corners of his mouth twitch when [Y/N] snorted. It surprised her and the girls, then laughing it off anyways.

"Hey Monoma," The girl greeted when she heard the Development Studio's door slid open and he walked in. He returned the greeting as head his way to her. "I didn't expect you to be here."

"Same as you." The studio was an organized mess, not his preferred interior but he respected it—this was the place where the Support Course carefully design the Hero Course's costumes and gadgets. He turned to [Y/N], "What brings you here?"

"I want to see how my bracelets were doing." She gestured at a workbench where a Support student was busy with two utility bracelets. Seeing the curiosity, she explained further. "They shoot out beads for my cards to hit; in case I don't need an actual object to swap. You're here too for your clocks?"

"Tactical and yes. But are you certain that's the only reason you're here? Not...to snoop on a certain class's shiny toys?" Monoma purred, leaning in a different workbench with one elbow as he looked at [Y/N], letting his posture radiate boredom that is searching for mischief. His eyes roamed around the studio, as if searching any potential gear that the other class might use.

"Oh, shut up." [Y/N] nudged with a scoff before pausing with a grin. "Heard that one over there was from 1-A."

"Is that so?" He matched her glint. The conversation went with a flow as the two lingered nearby, trading quiet comments about upgrades, training, and him not forgetting to spill slander about the other class.