The Mysterious Misery of Remaining Pure

TW: nightmares, brief depiction of domestic violence, death of a minor character, murder with a weapon

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"I'm gonna make a trash run! Does anyone want theirs taken out?" Misery calls over the hum of conversation in the common room.

A chorus of 'yes, please!' answers him and he takes a seat on the couch while he waits. Exhaustion settles in his bones, a weighted blanket that offers no comfort. Shouto comes to sit beside him, bumping him softly with his shoulder.

"Are we still going to the training grounds later?"

Misery nods, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. His migraine from this morning never went away, but it's never stopped him before. Besides, it's been a few days since he's broken anything, so it's probably time to try out that attack again.

"Yeah, I just figured I'd offer. Two birds and all that."

It doesn't take long before the trash bags he set out are full, though it's not as much as he'd anticipated. He grabs three bags, leaving two for Shouto, and they head out in search of the dumpsters.

They make small talk along the way- goals for new moves, tonight's homework, debate going to the library later. One wrong turn turns into two and, before they know it, they're hopelessly turned around. Misery tries to back track their steps, but it's no use. He has no idea where they've ended up.

They set down their bags, trying to come up with a new plan. Misery doesn't have his phone and Shouto doesn't have the blueprint on his.

"Maybe we can just keep going left, like maze rules?" He suggests.

"No, we went right from the dorms. If we stay left, we'll probably end up on the other side of campus." Shouto points out, looking around for something that will tell him where they are.

"The dumpsters are that way!"

Misery jumps at the sudden voice, spinning on the ball of his foot with his fists raised. He comes face to face with- a face? The wall has a face? He swings before he can think better of it, but his hand makes contact with empty cement.

Pulling his hand back and shaking the throbbing pain away, he turns to Shouto. "You saw that, too, right? What was that?"

"A face, I think." He offers helpfully.

"Yeah, no, I got that part."

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to spook you!" Someone rounds the corner, hand waving above his head. "My classmates are used to me just, ya know, popping up in places. I forget that not everyone expects it."

Misery studies his face, running through his mental index of U.A. students. It takes him a minute, since it's been a while, but eventually he finds the right name to put to the face.

"Oh my gosh! You're Mirio Togata!" He finds himself grinning excitedly- Mirio was one of his favorites from the sports festival from two years ago. "I'm sorry for trying to hit you!"

"That's okay! Totally my bad!" Mirio says, rubbing sheepishly at his neck. "So, you know me, huh? What was it? The pants? It's usually the pants."

Misery shakes his head so hard he almost topples over. Who can blame him? Mirio Togata is basically a legend in his mind. He'd been looking forward to the day Togata graduated and went full pro. Their fight would be one for the books, for sure.

"No. Well, that too. But that quirk of yours is something else! I watched your sports festival footage, like, a hundred times. The control? The finesse? Immaculate." He rambles, bouncing anxiously on his toes. "It took me forever to figure it out and even longer to understand how you were using it. And I bet you've only gotten stronger."