From Another Perspective | Shinso Hitoshi x male! Reader

Chapter 2: An "Average" Morning Routine

Warnings: none

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(y/n)'s POV

The sound of my alarm jolts me awake, saving me from another nightmare. My alarm is set for six o'clock, meaning I got around three hours of sleep – that's the most I've gotten all week. The first bell doesn't ring until 8:30, but I need enough time to follow my regular morning routine, make breakfast, and make it to Recovery Girl's office before then.

I head to the showers first; the only other people who get up this early are Bakugo and Midoriya, so they're completely empty – just like the hallways. Perfect. Most of the shower heads are lined up against the wall with short dividers, but there is one off to the side that has its own enclosed stall with a lock – that one is mine. I don't know of anyone else who uses this shower because its light is broken, but the others' exposure makes me uncomfortable.

When I return to my room, I lock the door behind me before getting dressed. The dorm room doors weren't installed with locks, so I added my own. I need my privacy, and the reason none of my classmates have done the same will forever elude me. As usual, I put on clothes, fix my hair, organize my school supplies into my backpack, and pull an energy drink from my fridge in the corner. I gulp it down while scrolling through my phone; it tastes like pure Gen-Z chaos and mental illness. I snort at my own thoughts.

Grabbing my backpack and a few ingredients from my fridge, I take the elevator to the ground floor to head toward the kitchen. I put together a bento box for my lunch first and then move on to my breakfast – I can hear my stomach shouting at me. Once finished, I lean against the corner countertop while feeding my impatient insides – I get it, you haven't had anything since lunch yesterday. I needed to study for my test and dinner didn't fit into that schedule, so calm down already. My ears perk up to someone entering the room.

"Oh, good morning, (y/n)!" It's Midoriya. His humanity is spread from his mouth and down his arms; in the field, he can strategize and fight with unreal accuracy, and off the field, his words are laced with kindness. I can rely on those traits' presence.

"Midoriya, good morning to you too!" I say with a smile. His gaze lands upon the plate in my hands.

"Why do you always make breakfast anyway? The school-provided meal is always there on the kitchen island," he questions. I don't know what they put in the food; it could be healthy ingredients, or it could be poison. I call this safety and self-preservation, but most people would call it paranoia, so I can't say that to him.

"Cooking is practically meditative for me, so starting the day with self-cooked food is starting the day off right. And a good morning means a good day, right?" I answer. Though that is not my actual reasoning, it's not a lie; I do really enjoy cooking. Midoriya seems content with this response.

"Right, that's really interesting actually. I go for a quick run every morning for the same reason," he grins and grabs his breakfast from the island. Before anyone else can ask me questions, I finish my food and rush out the door.

The main building doesn't open its doors until eight o'clock, so I have half an hour to kill. Technically, I could have stayed at the dorms until then, but it's difficult to be around people and show face before I take my meds. Becoming reliant on medication is not a good thing, but I can work on that after I graduate.

The morning continues: I walk around for a while, I meet with Recovery Girl, and I wait in her office until my stomach settles. When I leave, I find two faces expectedly waiting outside the door to greet me, Shoji and Tokoyami. With my hand constantly brushing against the wall, we walk together to our homeroom class with Mr. Aizawa.

Both of them are entirely human, which has become increasingly rare in recent years, but they are very dear to my heart. Shoji has been my friend and entirely human for as long as I can remember; we were neighbors, so I grew up playing with him daily. I was there to help protect him from the kids that would tease him and the adults who were utterly disgusted because of his mutant-type quirk. I know him inside and out, and he knows me just as well.

When we entered middle school, we met another kid who had just moved into our district, Tokoyami Fumikage. He and Shoji bonded very quickly over their shared quirk type and the teasing that came with it, so he was invited to hang out with us frequently. As I came to know and trust him more, Tokoyami's eyes were revealed to me. We were inseparable for most of our first year of middle school. Then, toward the end of that school year, the incident occurred.

Obviously, it was a traumatizing experience, but the toll it took on me and the aftereffects that accompanied it were worse than the incident itself. Now, everyone was made entirely of wood and each day was another draining battle in a seemingly unending war. Through the support of my family and two best friends – whose humanity returned rather quickly – and the third medication I tried, I reentered school in the middle of my second year.

The teachers were mostly understanding, and I caught up with the rest of my class within a few weeks, but the experience I had with my peers was horrific. Word about the incident had spread like a virus. Apparently, it was unfair that my quirk became overpowered, I should be grateful that I was 'chosen' for it, and I should have died there instead. The rest of middle school was absolute hell.

Learning that Shoji, Tokoyami, and I were all accepted into UA's hero program was the best news I had heard in two years. In class 1-A, nobody knew about the incident or that I was completely mental. It was a fresh start, and I would have my two best friends beside me the entire time.

Shoji calls my name to shake me from my trance-like reflection.

"Shoji, yes, thank you," I say, moving my hand from the wall to fiddle with my tie.

"Here," Shoji starts, offering one of his hands to me, "You'll look down at your tie a few minutes from now and freak because it's no longer perfectly symmetrical." I squint my eyes at him but take his hand regardless.

"That's true, but you are in no position to determine whether a tie is straight or not," Tokoyami adds. "You remember our first middle school New Year's Dance." He and I snicker trying to hold in our laughter at the memory.

"Will you ever let that go? I messed up once and never again since. How is it still that funny to you?" Shoji groans.

"I gave you a tie to borrow and you tied it as if they were shoelaces!" I snort, no longer able to contain my laughter.

"You should have at least known what it was supposed to look like."

"It was a learning experience! Let's move on, or I'll take my hand back," Shoji threatens. I struggle for a while to get my breath under control once again. We then arrive at our classroom.

I look around at my classmates. Todoroki sits at his desk in the back of the room silently; his humanity covers most of his left side, though the right is entirely wooden. Hagakure is chatting with Ojiro at the window beside her desk; I can't see her physical body, just like anybody else, but whatever clothing she wears is always wooden and stiff. Bakugo sits to the left of my seat, so I stick with Shoji whose desk is in front of mine, still enamored by his hand as I observe it closely. I sit atop his desk while he sits "normally" in his chair, so we are eye-level with each other.

"Hey, (y/n)," I hum in response, "I know that you enjoy observing and playing with my quirk, which I am more than okay with, but is there a specific reason why?" Shoji asks. I place my hand against his to explain my point.

"Your hands are so much bigger than mine, and while your palms are roughened with a few callouses, the skin between your arms is super soft. Your quirk makes you unique, so of course I'll fixate on it more often than anything else.

"Human anatomy is incredibly fascinating – at least to me – so mutant-type quirks which alter one's physical appearance and bodily structure just... they have a certain... I don't know! It's cool, okay? You know what I'm trying to say," I say returning my focus to his hand and arms. I can sense him smiling beneath his mask.

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A/N: This chapter basically sets up a baseline of what the "norm" is for (y/n), which includes relationships, routines, and thought processes / mindset. Now that we have this, we can start stirring the mixing pot.

Word Count: 1566