Not his usual type, indeed.

Gojo thinks, annoyed, as he unwillingly watches the entire broadcast of Hawks 's special guest appearance on

Put Your Hands Up

radio.

A hero.

Of all people.

Gojo isn 't sure whether he wants to laugh or fling himself out the window. As it is, he just continues causing himself needless acoustic pain by watching this godforsaken radio show, with the sort of morbid fascination he usually reserves for trashy reality tv shows. The guy on camera is definitely Keigo ' or Hawks, as Gojo supposes he should get used to calling him ' all charming dimples and razor sharp gold eyes. He jokes pleasantly with Present Mic, a fellow spotlight hero and the host of the radio show, and talks a little about a mission he 'd just completed while in town. That 's about the extent of any shop talk; the rest of it are increasingly intrusive questions on his personal life, none of which Gojo needed to know the answers for but ends up invested in nonetheless.

He really doesn 't know how to process this.

Gojo 's interest in heroes starts and ends with whether or not they're good people. Heroes like Eraserhead are just fine in his books ' better than fine, really. He might never say it to the man 's face but he respects how earnestly Eraserhead approaches heroism and how he expertly threads the needle between doing the right thing and doing what the law considers 'the right thing '. But his disinterest had been authentic when Eraserhead had asked on the topic. He could care less about the publicity of it all, the rankings and the media and the toxic competitiveness the whole mess proliferates.

He wouldn 't say he finds the idea of a hero having a media persona distasteful, at least theoretically, but it

does

seem like a conflict of interest at the very least.

It also always seems so misleading to him, since it's so easy to only show the public what you want them to see. And heroes who tend to have that flawless reputation also tend to be the ones who have

a lot

to hide.

So he wonders what it says about Keigo that his own hero reputation is so polished and prolific. And what it really means, if he 'd found the man to be so charming and genuine in person anyhow.

He sends a bunch of hysteric texts Makoto 's way in the interim of his own existential meltdown.

How dare you let me make terrible life choices.

I blame you for all of it.

Makoto just sends him a bunch of laughing emojis in response. Gojo flings his phone away in disgust, burying his face in his pillow.

//

@ru-kun | Disco Queen

So did you ever hear the tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise

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//

'I don 't like sand, ' Dabi announces, put upon as he arrives at the mouth of what once could have constituted as a boardwalk, but now better resembles a recycled tarmac. 'It 's coarse and rough and gets everywhere. '

Izuku laughs nervously. 'It 's, uh, an acquired taste, I suppose ' '

Dabi just sighs laboriously, looking like a superstar who just walked off a magazine cover and was unwillingly dragged off to this bonafide dump against his will. Frankly, the comparison isn 't that far off. But Dabi

always

looks like he just walked off a photoshoot, there 's just something about him, no matter how evident it is he spent the entirety of the night prior partying and sleeping in someone else 's bed, that always looks so effortlessly cool. Izuku wishes he had half that charismatic panache. Even a quarter. An eighth. He 's not picky.

He 's over the moon that Dabi actually came. He 'd never actually outright

agreed,

after all, but Midoriya allowed himself a kernel of hope that he 'd show up.

Dabi might be a criminal and the city 's most elusive (and eccentric) villain, but he was also the first person to ever recognize Izuku as

worth

something. Worthy of attention, of acknowledgment, of encouragement.

He was a lot of Izuku 's firsts, incidentally.

The first villain he 's ever met (he doesn 't really count the villain All Might saved him from, since they didn 't exactly talk). The first adult aside from his mother who 's ever acknowledged him. The first friend he 's made since Kacchan.

And ' his first big gay crush.

In his defense ' he 'd like to see anyone be the center of the man 's attention for more than half an hour and not be just a little bit in love with him. Everything about Dabi was effortlessly magnetic, and that artlessness was part of his appeal. He demonstrably did not care what anyone thought of him, and the blatant disregard for both personal and societal expectations was nothing short of awe-inspiring. To someone like Izuku, who had put so much stock into the opinions of others that he had started to base his own self-worth on what other people thought of him, the idea was both monumental yet anathema to everything he knows.

Of course, that effortlessly cool, devil-may-care vibe of his was only half his personality. The other half was a dumpster fire.

'So this is Dagobah beach, huh? I wonder if I could levitate an X-Wing out of one of these piles, ' Dabi muses, staring up into the towers of trash.

'A what? ' Izuku asks, blankly.

Dabi shakes his head, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his joggers. 'Ah, it 's nothing. Why exactly did you pick this place? '

'My mentor has tasked me with cleaning up the beach until you can see the ocean again. ' Izuku explains.

'As a community service? '

'And a training exercise. '

Dabi taps his chin. 'Hey, that 's ' not half bad, actually. '

Better than he would have thought, from a hero. Then again, not

every

hero is a self-absorbed slag. Plenty of underground heroes are a lot like Eraserhead, who does a lot of good and is rarely every thanked or acknowledged for it.

(He wonders: where does Keigo fall on that scale?)

Gojo eyes the dump from behind his sunglasses, looking for a good place to sit. He doesn 't sense anyone around them, and for good reason. The trash combined with the smell of the ocean is quite rancid.

'Where 's that mentor of yours, anyway? '

'Oh! He 's, uh, not here. ' Midoriya stutters out, suddenly nervous.

Immediately suspicious, Gojo turns towards him. 'Really? That 's a shame. I was kinda hoping to meet him. '

Midoriya looks appropriately alarmed at that. 'Dabi-san? '

Gojo 's look turns sly. 'I mean, I

am

the other woman, aren 't I? It 's only fair you introduce me. '

'That 's not what 's going on here and you know it! ' Midoriya whines in protest. 'And also that 's super gross! '

'Izu-kunnnn, are you saying you think I 'm gross? I 'm so hurt! '

(Sometimes Izuku wonders if Dabi actually has no idea how he feels and is just oblivious to his crush, or if he 's fully aware and actually goes out of his way to tease him about it because his personality is really just that bad.)

'A ' Anyway! ' Midoriya stutters out, before Gojo can continue to tease him. 'He 's not coming today, so it doesn 't really matter. '

'Awh, that 's a shame! I dressed up and did my hair and everything! '

Midoriya eyes him blandly, clearly well aware that Gojo did not, in fact, do anything special and probably just rolled right out of bed looking like this. But then his skeptical expression clears into something more thoughtful, perhaps even worried.

'Are you really okay with this? Meeting a hero and stuff? I just, I know it 's kind of weird and all considering, um, who you are ' '

'It 's fine! ' Gojo waves off. It 's true he doesn 't meet heroes all that often, and if he does it's usually on opposite sides of a battlefield, but he 's not overly concerned about it.

He does, after all, meet Eraserhead every once in a while purely just to mess with the poor man when he's in the middle of his work shift. And he

also

might have unintentionally bagged Japan's most eligible hero bachelor just the other night '

'If you 're sure, ' Midoriya sighs. 'I just feel kind of bad, dragging you into this, asking you to continue training me even though I 'm working with a hero now. You 've done so much for me already, and I really can 't ask any more of you, and especially ask you to get along with some hero when I know how you feel about them ' '

Do you? Because clearly even

I

don 't know how I feel about them, considering I enthusiastically slept with the Number Three Hero in Japan and still kind of have no regrets about it.

A thought occurs to him, then. And a panicked sweat breaks down his back.

'Hey, Izu-kun, ' he says slowly. 'Who exactly is this hero who 's mentoring you? I don 't think you ever said. '

Midoriya grimaces sheepishly. 'W ' Well! That 's! Um! I can 't really, ah, comment on that ' It 's sort of a secret? '

Gojo stares blankly. Wow. This kid really is bad at lying, huh. He doesn 't even try.

'Not that I don 't think you 're trustworthy or don 't want to tell you or anything! ' Midoriya adds hastily. 'It 's just not really my secret to tell. '

'Fair enough, ' he says, slowly. 'Just tell me this up front ' is this hero of yours in the top ten? '

Midoriya stares, wide-eyed, like a deer in headlights. 'Um, ' he says, which is answer enough.

Oh.

'And can he fly? '

'Um! '

Oh no.

'...And is he blonde? '

'UM, ' the panicked expression explodes into full blown hysteria. 'D ' Dabi-san?! You?! How could you possibly ' ? I thought your quirk was telekinesis??? '

Gojo just sighs, laboriously. How can one conveniently bad decision come to bite him in the ass so impressively? Man, maybe it 's for the best he 's helping Midoriya out like this. He 's really got to do something with his terrible karma stat.

'Are you a mind reader too?! ' Midoriya gasps.

He chuckles weakly. 'No, no. I 'm just an idiot. '

//

@ru-kun | Disco Queen

Sometimes I take a look around me and realize my life is full of problems and all of them are entirely my fault

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//

In light of Gojo 's first and immediate concern ' namely, the horrifying assumption that he 's co-mentoring his favorite bean sprout with the hot blonde guy he had a one night stand with who inconveniently ended up being the Number Three Hero ' finding out that Midoriya 's

actual

hero mentor was All Might was a relief in comparison.

He 's blonde, he flies, and he 's in the top ten.

And

Gojo didn 't take his gay virginity, which is really the important thing here.

At first it 's rather unexpected, even perhaps bewildering, but after examining him fully with his Six Eyes ' both as All Might and Yagi Toshinori ' it begins to make sense.

All Might is in desperate need of a successor, and apparently has better taste than Gojo would expect for someone who regularly wears red and blue spandex on live television, because he has chosen Midoriya to be that person. Midoriya is an excellent pick, although Gojo might be a bit biased in saying so.

But he 's still not entirely certain how All Might intends to do it. His Six Eyes make two things about All Might glaringly obvious: one, he 's got some kind of stockpiling quirk. Two, he was born quirkless. He has that same void in the area where the Plus Alpha energy pools in the human body as Midoriya does. But he also has a quirk that only grows stronger, even as his body weakens. Taking these two observations into consideration, All Might 's mysterious strengthening quirk comes to light as something not inherent, but acquired. How exactly it's passed from person to person is something not obvious at first glance, even to his omniscient sight.

It 's also absolutely and unequivocally

not his problem,

so he plays nice with the Number One Hero (and his equally tall, equally blonde 'assistant ' Yagi whenever he shows up) and doesn 't remark on it.

So he shows up and politely introduces himself as Gojo Satoru, a man who doesn 't exist but seems benign enough to fly under the hero 's radar, and if he goes out of his way to be friendly with the man just because he knows how infuriated Endeavor would be if he ever found out ' well. He 's evil and problematic and loves to be petty, and he 's never made that much of a secret.

It doesn 't help that All Might is way too much fun to fuck with.

His first meeting with the Number One Hero ' and not his assistant alter ego ' goes as follows:

'Hiya, All Might! ' He says in english, sticking out his hand. 'I 'm Satoru! But you can also call me Oscar the Grouch. '

All Might blinks at him like he doesn 't know what to make of him. '... Oscar? ' He repeats.

'Yeah. Not because I 'm a grouch but because I'm the anthropomorphic equivalent of a trashcan. '

He would 've expected someone who spent at least a few years in America to understand most of his references, but either the man didn 't spend his time over there knee deep in internet memes (likely), or all of them just flew right over his head (also likely) because he only smiled in a distantly confused manner and nodded along to all of Gojo 's eccentricities. Which is exactly how Gojo liked it. They could 've been an epic two man comedy show, with Midoriya 's strangled whinging noises of despair acting as the laugh track.

Anyway, as it turns out All Might isn 't the only hero he 's been spending unexpected amounts of time with.

Gojo is delighted by the turn of events.

Eraserhead is ' not nearly as delighted.

'I would really have preferred not to have to ask this of you, ' the perpetually sleep-deprived underground hero intones, 'but we 're running out of options here. '

Gojo would be a little offended that Eraserhead looked so upset to see him when the underground hero had specifically asked to meet with him, but the hero's poor mood seems to be less a reflection on his current company and more a remark on how severely he's taking the situation.

He's curious, more than anything. Eraserhead has never sought him out like this before.

Gojo grins coyly. 'Oh, so I 'm your

only

option then? '

Eraserhead just sighs heavily, and drops his head onto the table. He has an even greater propensity for fickly felines than Detective Tsukauchi did, as at least three furry cats leap to fight over who gets to claim the top of his head as their perch. Gojo has a sneaking suspicion Eraserhead is actually very fond of cats, even if he hasn't said as much aloud, which was only confirmed when he asked to meet Gojo at a cat cafe of all places. Gojo wonders if the creatures like him so much because they recognize him as one of them. Gojo himself still wonders if Eraserhead is not in fact just three cats stuffed in a trenchcoat.

With a disgruntled noise he flings his head back up before any of them get the chance to get tangled in his hair, and they all disperse to rub against his legs. Gojo watches this with a bit of amusement and no small amount of jealousy. Animals always greatly dislike him, on account of recognizing an apex predator when they see one, so they all avoid him like the plague. All accept for one, who appears just as demonic as he is and probably knows a fellow agent of anarchy on sight. The great fluff of black fur is currently sprawled possessively over his lap, and Gojo has no interest in moving it.

Eraserhead looks so defeated Gojo has to laugh. 'I 'm not saying no, you know. '

'Yes, because you don 't seem the sort to make my life easy. ' Eraserhead sighs. 'Statistically, you 're the worst problem child I 've ever had. '

Gojo blinks. 'I ' think I 'm flattered? '

He honestly cannot remember the last time he 'd ever considered himself a child. Certainly not in this life ' probably not even in his last, either. Too much power at too young an age, too many responsibilities and obligations.

'It 's not a compliment. '

'Then I 'm

definitely

flattered. '

Eraserhead just sighs again. His eyes are red-rimmed and dry but determined as he stares Gojo down. Gojo wonders what he sees. A kid too young to hold the kind of power he has? Some lost little lamb languishing for some kind of guidance? A punk with a chip on his shoulder and an egregious distaste for authority figures?

There 's something about the way Eraserhead looks at him, though. He 's not sure if it intrigues or intimidates him, but it 's not the way everyone else looks at Gojo.

People tend to see what they want to see, and Gojo 's happy to weave the illusions that spellbound them. He 's the roguishly charming writer and lead singer that everyone wants a piece of; the mysterious and eccentric super villain with the entire underworld in the palm of his hand; the powerful youth alone in his solemn dynasty. No matter what they see, everyone wants something from him. They always have, in this life and the last, and Gojo 's long since learned the art of looking after his own self-interest at the behest of everyone else 's.

But Eraserhead ' Gojo doesn 't know what the underground hero wants from him.

Okay, well, he wants him to be an informant on criminal activity. That's what this whole meeting is about. There 's more to it than that, though. He doesn 't have to indulge Gojo the way he does. Or buy him coffees at cute cat cafes that are totally Gojo 's style (and also probably Eraserhead 's). Or indulge him, however begrudgingly, whenever Gojo swings by his patrol route like a friendly neighborhood spidervillain just to bother him. Or be honest with him, about what he wants and what he expects from Gojo.

It 's a little weird, to be honest.

'I know you can take care of yourself and all, but this is ' ' Eraserhead pinches the bridge of his nose. 'This is putting you in the line of sight of some pretty threatening people. So don 't just agree without even hearing me out. '

Gojo just raises a brow as he takes a sip of his latest sugary abomination. If Eraserhead

really

knew just how dangerous he was, then he 'd realize just how unwarranted his concern was.

'I have plenty of experience handling threatening people. ' Gojo points out, amused. 'And I 'm hardly defenseless. '

But Eraserhead just shakes his head. 'I don 't doubt it. ' He agrees, although he doesn 't look happy about it. 'But I wish I didn 't have to put you in this position, nonetheless. '

Gojo blinks. 'Technically, I put myself in it. ' He says. 'No one told me to be a villain, you know. '

This doesn 't do much to reassure him. If anything, Eraserhead just looks more defeated, probably because he knows society manufacturers villains just like they do heroes and thinks someone Gojo's age likely never had a choice in the matter. Which is very sweet but totally off the mark.

"I know. ' He says.

'And how do you know I 'm not just gonna betray you, anyway? ' Gojo drawls, propping his chin in his hand. 'For all you know, I could turn right around and tell them the police are onto them and underground pro hero Eraserhead is the one running the show. '

'You won 't. ' Eraserhead replies, without missing a beat.

Gojo pouts. 'You can 't know that for sure. '

The underground hero shrugs. 'Call it intuition, then. '

He pouts further, annoyed Eraserhead isn 't rising at all to the bait. 'You 're lucky I 'm not petty enough to do it anyway just to prove a point. '

Messing with Eraserhead is no fun when he 's being so unflappable. And why 's he so dead certain on Gojo 's trustworthiness, anyway? Gojo 's made a lifestyle out of being unreliable and unpredictable, and then this sleep-deprived panda shuffles into his life and sees right through it. Eraserhead really

is

lucky that Gojo likes him so much ' also, that Gojo adores his number one best bae Makoto, and endangering Eraserhead would endanger Detective Tsukauchi.

Gojo continues to pout, blowing a raspberry as he looks down to see if he can coax the demonic cat into some belly rubs.

Meanwhile, Shouta wonders what Tsukauchi is going to do to him when he hears of this. Probably string him up by his capture scarf upside down and fob the entire precincts backlogs on him while he does it.

There 's really nothing for it, though. He hadn 't been kidding when he said Dabi was their only real avenue to pursue this burgeoning League of Villains.

He 'd been the one to tip them off on it in the first place, after all.

First with the information on the back door meeting, and after that with a report on the recruiting patterns going on in the greater Tokyo Metropolitan area. He 'd even gotten them a name for the initiative ' the League of Villains. As of now their motives were undisclosed, but if the police were ever going to figure it out their best bet was Dabi himself continuing to feed them information.

Something Shouta disagreed with entirely on principle, even if he could see the value in the strategy. He hadn 't outright asked Dabi his age, but from their history he could infer he wasn 't any older than a college student. Asking someone that young to get involved in this kind of dangerous work just didn 't sit well with him; even underground heroes at that age were kept away from undertakings like this. A mission of this caliber was usually reserved for veteran underground heroes with highly specialized quirks. Someone like Shouta, honestly.

He 'd been honest with Dabi when he said he didn 't doubt him. He truly didn 't. Dabi had a well-earned reputation as a dangerous villain.

But he was still a kid, at the end of the day. A kid who 's entire history was a mystery to Shouta.

It doesn 't make him feel any better to watch him now, as he smiles down at the behemoth in his lap, running his long fingers through the cat 's soft fur. It sends a pang of something like regret down his chest. Anyone watching him now could mistake him as just another innocent and carefree kid, whose most pressing worries centered around their upcoming university exams. Had Dabi ever had an innocent and carefree moment in his entire life? What terrible circumstances could have led to a kid ' with what Shouta

knew

was a good heart buried in there underneath that awful sense of humor ' to a life of crime and villainy like this?

Despite his occupation as a highly dangerous criminal and his egregiously eccentric personality, Dabi doesn 't seem to be a bad kid. You could argue the necessity of the severity of his methods, but at the end of the day the people who ended up on the wrong end of his quirk were all more or less deserving of it. And Shouta ' wants to do right by the kid, because he has a feeling not many in his life have.

Except ' they don 't live in that kind of idyllic world.

In the world they live in, Shouta can 't save this boy no matter how deserving of it he might be, because he

needs

him. He needs to use him for his own gains, for some nebulous 'greater good '; using him probably in the same way everyone else in his life has.

It 's an awful feeling.

'In the interest of full disclosure, ' Dabi says, suddenly, looking up from his companion. The cat looks severely displeased with the lack of attention, meowing loudly until he drops a hand back onto the soft fur of its belly. The action has his obscuring sunglasses slipping down the bridge of his nose, revealing those alarming eyes. 'I have my own reasons for wanting to do this. '

Shouta had expected as much. He nods. 'I figured as much. ' He pauses. 'Do you have a conflict in objectives? '

'Not particularly. ' Dabi shrugs. 'I just want you to know up front, that I 've got my own agenda here. '

Shouta observes him carefully. The young man who looked so boyishly charmed as he batted away his feline companion 's paws has completely disappeared, revealing someone stoic and unyielding. 'Can I know what it is? '

Dabi scrutinizes him back just as closely. 'As long as you don 't get in my way. ' He says, at length.

Shouta downs the last of his bitter, lukewarm black coffee. 'I can 't really make any promises on that front, ' he admits, honestly. 'But I can tell you I 'll do my best to avoid a situation that would cause me to intervene, for my self-preservation if nothing else. '

'Fair enough, ' Dabi smiles slightly. Those arresting, celestial colored eyes look inhuman in the glaring light, giving nothing away.

Shouta stands by his assessment of Dabi 's genuinely good personality, but that doesn 't make him any less aware of how dangerous this kid really is. Especially in moments like this, where it 's impossible to ignore.

'I 'm after the Hero Killer. '

Shouta blinks. Then blinks again. '... Stain? ' He clarifies, incredulously, even if its a bit of a moot point.

Dabi leans back in his seat, one hand still lost in fur, the other tapping an idle rhythm on his empty cup. 'Yep. '

Shouta 's shoulders collapse in relief. He 'd been genuinely worried they might be having a real, intractable, conflict of interest here. As it is, Dabi wanting Stain personally is ' odd, but not inimical. Not even unfavorable, really. He 's called the Hero Killer for a reason, after all. But by that same turn, he 's the

Hero

Killer. What issue does Dabi have with him? Dabi has never killed any heroes himself ' seems to go out of his way not to, in fact ' even if he does seem to take issue with them as a collective.

'Do I even want to know why? ' He asks, seriously.

'You could say it 's personal, ' Dabi hedges, vaguely.

Well, that 's alarming. But clearly not any of Shouta 's business, and appears to be something Dabi 's not keen on him prying into.

Either way, Shouta has no intention of getting involved in this vendetta of his. As a hero, he should probably be advocating for legal and judicial avenues of justice for Stain, and not supporting ' however obliquely ' a personal revenge saga. But as a man with years of experience operating in the criminal underworld who knows just how difficult pulling an infiltration mission like this off is, he 'll consider it the lesser of all evils here. After all there are plenty of

heroes

who would wholeheartedly support Dabi in this endeavor, when it comes to this particular criminal.

Shouta rubs his temples, closing his eyes as he leans back in his chair.

'Just ' be careful, okay? ' He sighs, defeated. And then, with a candid honesty he blames on exhaustion and too much caffeine: 'Stain is dangerous and ' I don 't want to see you getting hurt. Frankly, if this whole thing goes sideways and something happens to you, I already don 't know how I 'm going to live with myself. So ' don 't do dumb shit, okay? For my sake. '

When Dabi doesn 't respond, Shouta rubs his eyes with the back of his hand and blearily looks up.

The white-haired boy 's peculiar eyes look a bit wider than usual. And ' Shouta squints at him. Are his ears a little red? Or is that just the lighting?

Dabi ducks his head, clearing his throat as he shoves his glasses up back onto his nose. 'Uh ' right. Yeah. I 'll keep that in mind. '

//

@ru-kun | Disco Queen

Why are you asking if I 'm fine? Have you seen me??? I 'm fine as HELL

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//

'I will be unavailable that weekend, ' Yui says, and Gojo is fairly certain it 's the first actual sentence out of her mouth he 's heard in months.

Kenji and Makoto pause their bickering at the surprise interruption. They 'd been arguing on a venue as Gojo watched on in a delighted fashion as it nearly came to blows. He was always enthusiastic for chaos of all kinds, and a throw down between the two would have been hilarious. At any rate, they had been no closer to finagling a solution and Gojo had been about to toss his hat into the ring before Yui spoke up.

He laughs uproariously. 'Well, I guess that solves that then, hm? '

Makoto and Kenji both look rather chagrined. Makoto looks back down at her calendar app. 'Well, there 's a show next month that might be a good one then ' '

Yui bites her lip, dark hair sliding across her face as she looks down. Neither Makoto or Kenji are paying her any attention, so Gojo prompts; 'Yui-chan? '

The other two look up at Gojo 's voice.

'I ' will be starting high school by then, and will likely be unable to continue playing weeknight shows. '

After a beat of hesitation, she stands up, then bows abruptly. 'If you would like to find a drummer with more availability, I understand. Thank you for '

'Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down! No one 's kicking you out here! ' Makoto insists, panicked. She has good reason to be. Their odds of finding a drummer as good as Yui who will willingly put up with their terrible personalities and awful scheduling are slim indeed.

Even if their current drummer happens to be bonafide jailbait.

Who wins the bet then?

Gojo wonders. He thinks it's Makoto, damn her, who bet five thousand yen that Yui was younger than fifteen. She might have the face for it, but her unflappable personality in the face of Gojo Satoru 's iconic brand of chaos had him thinking she was actually a great deal older than that.

'I mean, I feel a little bad knowing we 've been making you stay up like this on school nights this whole time ' ' Makoto rubs the back of her head sheepishly. 'But if the scheduling is your only issue here then we can easily just start doing weekend gigs. '

'Maybe just transition to doing less live shows in general? ' Gojo tosses out with a shrug. 'Our digital album did really well, right? '

Makoto nods. 'Yeah, it did. And we could probably swing doing less shows but in bigger venues. '

'That would probably be best for me too, ' Kenji agrees, gruffly. 'My schedule is going to be difficult as well. '

'Me too, ' Makoto admits. 'I got a promotion at work, which is great, but means I 'm twice as busy these days. '

Gojo nods along. 'I 'm just here to make music! ' He cheers, as he has zero responsibilities, no actual job, ' and no real time commitments.

Makoto rolls her eyes. 'Right. Well, I 'll look over some new venues and scheduling options. In the meantime, why don 't we nail down our studio hours ' '

They whittle away the rest of their allotted time with boring logistics, and Yui doesn 't say anything else. Gojo watches her surreptitiously as she fiddles with her drumsticks, curtain of dark hair obscuring her face once again. She seems as placid and calm as always, but there 's something nervous about her posture, he thinks.

Because he can occasionally be known to show tact when it benefits him, he waits until they 're all parting ways at the front of the studio before confronting her. Yui is as unobtrusive as usual as she slings a baseball cap low over her face, her short dark hair loose around her ears and effectively obscuring her features entirely. Gojo watches her curiously, intrigued to realize he hadn 't noticed before how she seems to make a concerted effort to be as overlooked as possible. He wonders if she has something to hide. Then he snorts. What is he saying?

All

of them have something to hide. Even Makoto, although he already knows she 's a manager for a pretty famous hero. And Kenji 's secret is only unknown to him because he hasn 't bothered to pry, and he 's fairly certain she 'd prefer he remain ignorant to whatever 's on her criminal record.

But little Yui '

Hmmm. Strict parents, perhaps? An overbearingly posh family? Societal expectations? Nosey boyfriend?

'Yui-chan~ ' He sings, as he catches up to her.

She peers up at him from beneath the fringe of her cap, looking rather put upon. 'Satoru-san, ' she returns, after a beat.

'Are you heading this way? Me too! There 's a cafe I 've been dying to try this way. ' That 's a total lie. But he 's sure he can find one along the way.

Yui chews anxiously on her bottom lip. Gojo feels a little bad ' he didn 't mean to make her nervous. She 's usually so immune to his outrageous personality though, so he 's not really sure what the problem is. Then he sees how pedestrians turn their heads towards him, drawn by his good looks. Ah. She 's probably annoyed he 's ruining her inconspicuous profile.

'Do you wanna come with? What 's your favorite drink? Strawberry milk tea? '

Yui purses her lips. 'Do you need something, Satoru-san? '

'Hmmm, not really! ' He replies brightly. 'You just seemed a little worried back there. You know we don 't mind, right? About your high school, or whatever. Although if you ever try to sneak a drink after a show, I 'm gonna be keeping my eye on you now, you little rascal! '

This works to draw an unwilling smile on her face. She might show outward expression only rarely, but Gojo had always secretly thought she found his antics privately entertaining, and it looks like his hunch was spot on. He grins back widely in response.

'The only one we need to be keeping an eye on is

you,

Satoru-san, ' she says promptly, to his utter delight.

'What a roast from the world 's sweetest drummer! ' Gojo gasps, and swipes her baseball cap off to mess up her hair. Yui bears it with the stoic grace of a person who knows damn well they are both the youngest but also the most mature out of their cohort.

He fishes out a face mask from his back pocket and fixes it over his mouth; combined with the hat and sunglasses it entirely obscures his features. Yui seems to relax incrementally when they turn a corner and no one on the street stares in their direction.

She ignores his posturing with dexterous aplomb as she replies; 'I 'm fine, Satoru-san. Just anxious for my entrance exams. '

'Yeah, I guess those are pretty nerve-wracking, huh? ' Gojo scratches his chin. He 's one of those obnoxious people who thrive under pressure though, so he wouldn't really know. 'Where are you applying? '

'Shiketsu and U.A. ' Yui answers.

Gojo blinks, and observes her with new eyes. 'Shiketsu and U.A.? So you want to be a hero, Yui-chan? '

She nods.

That was rather unexpected. Nothing about Yui 's personality really vibed with Gojo 's whole impression on the hero industry. But then again, he really didn 't know much about her. For all he knew this has been her life long dream.

'Good for you, Yui-chan! That 's great! ' Whatever his opinion on heroes as a consumer enterprise might be, he was always thrilled to see young people chasing their dreams. 'I 'm sure you 'll do really well. '

Yui looks down, nothing to denote her anxiousness in her placid features but for a slight furrow in her brow. '... I hope so. ' She murmurs, quietly, fiddling with her backpack straps.

He ruffles her hair again, just to wipe that maudlin look off her face. 'You 've got nothing to worry about, Yui-chan! You work well in a group, and you can corral people as outlandish as us into behaving and getting back on task whenever you need to. '

Yui doesn 't look entirely convinced, nodding along absently. 'But my quirk ' ' she trails off.

Gojo tilts his head, consideringly. Yui 's quirk factor is focused in her hands, and seems to be related to spatial manipulation ' but only of non-living objects. Interesting, and also pretty useful. It 's the sort of multi-faceted quirk that has endless applications, but that versatility is both its greatest strength and weakness. With so many ways to approach any given situation, it becomes a problem of crafting solutions expeditiously and efficiently. Great for people like Gojo, who rarely second guess themselves; terrible for any teenager that suffers under indecisive self-doubt, which is basically all of them.

'Your quirk is incredible, ' he tells her, and she looks up sharply. 'But it really has nothing to do with being a good hero or not. A quirk like yours has great potential, but it 's as useless as any other tool in the wrong hands. You 're a quick thinker and you 're great at improvising on the fly ' I 've seen you follow along with my random guitar solos without even missing a beat. '

Yui blushes at the praise, ears going red.

' 'that 's the sort of thinking you need to use that quirk of yours to its fullest potential. Your mind is your greatest asset, ya know? ' He grins. 'But some physical conditioning wouldn 't be remiss either. '

She bites her lip. 'I 've been going on runs now ' ' She says, grimacing. 'But I don 't really know what else to do. I 've just been studying for the written exam. '

'The written exam is all well and good, but all these schools have physical examinations too, right? '

Yui nods sheepishly.

Gojo gives her a thumbs up. 'Lucky for you, I have an

excellent

sparring partner for you in mind! '