Chapter Text
I’m not sure exactly how Bakugou Katsuki ended up dead asleep next to me, his solid body enveloping my significantly smaller one in a caricature of an embrace. There was hardly enough space for the two of us in the single bed, leaving me trapped between the wall and halfway under the blonde boy. At least he wasn't snoring.
Well, actually, I knew exactly how my schoolmate got there, if our mutual nakedness was anything of a reminder, but I’m not exactly sure why he was there to begin with. Or rather, why he hadn't shucked his clothes back on after he'd finished and gone back to his own room. We hadn't talked after, and when he'd suddenly slumped over me, I’d assumed he had been catching his breath. It wasn't until he'd sighed in my ear that I realized he was instead half cradling my head, snoozing peacefully. I’d cranked my head around at the thought to study him, having been far too busy replaying the events that had lead to me fucking Bakugou fucking Katsuki of all people.
The sex hadn't been bad. In fact, it had been quite the opposite, if a little clumsy at the start. But I could probably chalk that up to myself- I’d been so surprised at his sudden advance that I’d cracked maybe one too many jokes. He hadn't seemed to have been joking. Not even a little, but he'd only told me to shut up one time, so perhaps I hadn't blundered as badly as I felt I might have.
His face wasn't nearly as harsh this way, the lines that usually decorated his intense crimson eyes had gone soft enough that he almost looked like a regular teenage boy and not an explosive hothead hero prodigy.
He'd probably just been too tired to get up afterwards, I reasoned. Sex released a cocktail of chemicals that relaxed the body and Bakugou was also in Class A, so his daily training regimen was intense. I, however, was no stranger to working well into the night and it was still early in my opinion.
I shifted, intent on extricating myself from the covers and post-coital classmate just to feel the large hand that had nestled itself neatly into my hair stiffen against my scalp.
He didn't even open his eyes before he forced my head down into the crook of his neck. My lips grazed the skin of his collarbone, and although I had just an hour ago been pressing kisses and whimpering praises into the same spot, the proximity was now unbearably embarrassing.
"... would you go to fuckin' sleep already?" He mumbled, rolling unceremoniously onto his back so that I was no longer half beneath him but scooped partially over his chest. Bold of him to assume I’d been able to sleep with his heavy arms crushing me to begin with, but I decided not to argue with the loudmouth. It wasn't like it had gotten me very far before.
This would blow over tomorrow, surely. Either he’d pretend it never had happened or even better- perhaps he’d start to avoid me.
Something about that thought made me uneasy though. I saw Bakugou almost every single day at this point, and the idea of him suddenly becoming absent from my day to day left me feeling anxious. It had become routine to walk back with him at the end of another grueling day at the lab, even if it was just so he could complain about his classmates and berate me for either working too much or slacking off.
He was my friend, wasn’t he? A friend made out of convenience, but a friend nonetheless.
I swallowed hard. And friends didn’t do what we had just done.
X
Aisaka Kaida- Quirk: Architect. Class: 1-H.
Or at least that's what my teachers had dubbed my quirk, I thought that name was a little dramatic for enhanced intelligence. But UA was supposed to make you marketable to Hero agencies and labs across the globe, so I supposed a description like "Aisaka's 360 degree intellect allows her to reason faster than most computers and see possibilities even the most brilliant strategists would miss. Some even say she can see the future." sounded better than, "Yeah, uh, I'm really good at chess and last week I put a sensor in my tv to automatically pause if I lose interest."
I was actually pretty proud of that one. The sensor was simple though, it tracked my eyes and if I wasn't looking for more than 15 seconds, it paused whatever I was watching. If I looked back at it, it unpaused. It was pretty handy for multitasking.
I’d fought my way into UA's prestigious Support Class on a meager partial scholarship, though I really had no interest in anything hero related. I knew my quirk had no tangible field use in practical exams. But the labs here were massive and full of equipment and possibilities I couldn't even dream of outside of it. Plus the collaborative effect of having so many brilliant minds in the same room had me practically salivating when I’d thought about it. I watched dozens of vlog style tours on youtube highlighting a Support student's day to day life after I’d read about the program. The labs were top-grade, headed by some of the greatest scientists and engineers in the world. The set up I’d constructed at home with recycled electronics and "borrowed" middle school equipment that I had been so proud of seemed so small and pointless in comparison.
I had always been a bit of an autodidact, figuring things out with pure logic and reasoning and self found resources- teachers had always been useless as mentors. To have assets like that at my fingertips would be my utopia- an Atlantis that I could only dream of.
General student body for UA was made up of almost heroes, students who's quirks hadn't made the cut for Class A or B, but the Support Class was different- made up of wannabe scientists and brainiacs from all over Japan, there was no simple practical or written exam to be scored upon. Nope, like all of the more snobbish areas of academia, you had to present a project to be publically judged, if you even qualified to enter. Cue eye roll.
My grades had been shit prior to the sudden realization that I WANTED to participate in the racket that was organized education. In my second year of middle school, I barely had a year to change that. The schoolwork wasn't the problem, I’d checked out of school mentally ages ago because it hadn't been challenging or rewarding at all. It was the time frame- I’d picked up extra classes as a result, desperate to boost my GPA into the necessary range to qualify for the showcase. And I’d made it barely by the skin of my teeth.
Then came the actual showcase. I had a multitude of projects that could've been submitted, but there was one that I knew would be a hit to those working in the hero space.
I'd made handcuffs, or more specifically, Hero Handcuffs, made of a material designed to reconfigure itself upon activation to be roughly up to 1000 times their original weight unactivated. They weren't flashy or attention grabbing but they had a wide variety of applications. At least, that's what the judges had told me in my acceptance letter.
The gnarly bit was that UA now owned my handcuffs, the design and even the technology for them. I'd been forced to turn in any and all materials on my variable alloy and my intellectual property was forfeited to the school in exchange for my spot in the program. Considering it had been my largest project in the last 2 years, it was safe to say that I had been more than a little pissed. On the bright side- I'd continue to be able to work on the variable alloy for the next 3 years and nothing was stopping me from creating a better version down the line when I was out of the program. It was still a possibility.
A very real one, considering I'd stopped contributing to the project as soon as they’d seized it. It had already been patented and put into use- my handcuffs were used in villain arrests globally now.
They’d been my ticket in and now I was ready to move onto bigger and better projects. If they’d let me, that was.
Since entering UA, I’d been forced to attend general education studies alongside my lab work and I was hardly ever given any free time to pursue my own interests. Instead I was stuck playing assistant to my senior classmates.
“You’ll get your turn.” They’d encouraged me, as I took halfhearted notes on molecular decomposition. I’d been matched with a 3rd year student whose primary study matched my submission to the showcase and his work was excessively boring. I had no doubt he’d make it far in this world, however. His study was on molecular biology, specifically on the molecular biology of the genealogy of quirks and although I could see the value of the information he was collecting, I was more motivated by application of data rather than the mere collection of it. Hanamura Daichi just wanted to observe things and learn, he didn’t have any grand schemes for the things he learned about, he just wanted to learn them.
He was a far more honorable contributor to science than myself.
But I played the role as expected. I took Daichi’s notes, assisted him with his experiments and learned alongside him. Afterall, it was scientists like Daichi whose work provided the framework for innovation. It was far from valueless, even if I’d much rather get my hands dirty.
That’s why I was pumped when I finally got my first individual assignment.
All first year Support class students got paired with a first year Hero class student for hero suit repairs and upgrades. The parameters of the assignment were simple- meet with your hero partner and work with them to design the best hero suit possible for their quirk.
I was less pumped when I opened the manilla envelope with the details of my partner.
Bakugou Katsuki.
Well, fuck.
X
“You could request a new partner.” Daichi smiled reassuringly at me from over the clear frames of his glasses, “I’m sure that your teacher would understand why you wouldn’t want to work with someone like that.”
I groaned, dropping the clipboard onto the metal lab table. Bakugou Katsuki was famous - famously difficult. I’d been dragged by some of the other members of the support team to the school festival to support Mei while she showcased some of her inventions. When Mei had the time to make such inventions, I had no idea. Daichi had me running errands around the clock and I barely found time to sleep outside of regular classes.
“I already tried.” I lamented, “Power Loader said I was best suited for this match and basically to suck it up.”
“Have you gone to find him yet?” Daichi used an eye dropper to squirt some saline onto the microscope slide.
“No, are you crazy? That guy would totally bite my head off. This is such a pain.”
“You know, you get personal lab time for the assignment. And it’s graded. Private lab time is awarded to people with excellent project scores.” Daichi hinted.
My head shot up, “Why doesn't anyone explain anything anymore?”
“That should be common sense.” Daichi hummed through a smile.
“Maybe to career academics like you.” I sniped back without meaning to.
Daichi just smiled wider, “You’re one of those career academics now too. You should start behaving like it. I won’t tell Power Loader if you skip your assistant duties for the day to play catch up with your hero partner.”
I jammed my pens into my school bag, “Sorry for calling you a career academic. I swear, I could kiss you.”
“That would be the least you could do.” Daichi caught the papers I scattered in my haste and tapped his cheek expectantly, bending down to put himself into comfortable range.
I rolled my eyes and chastely pressed my lips to his cheek, “You’re such a pervert. I should report you for harassment.”
“You love it.” He chuckled. Daichi wasn’t unattractive, I knew, but he wasn’t exactly my type either. I didn’t hate the attention. And if kissing Daichi on the cheek got me out of assigned lab work, I’d do it.
“Whatever!” I swung my bag over my shoulder after stripping off my lab coat. I broke into a sprint, but stopped and spun on my heel, “Wait. Where are the hero classes again?”
“You’re hopeless.”
X
I had managed to get to the practice building in record time (at least by my standards).
Class 1-A apparently practiced here after their general education studies, much like the support group having lab time. I'd found the right room, they'd slide cards with the names of the students who'd reserved that particular field into the clear slots next to the doors and I knew what Bakugou looked like already, having seen him compete in the school festival. I could still see the boy in the back of mind's eye, muzzle strapped over his mouth so that he couldn’t continue cussing out the teachers and his classmate for being spineless. He’d looked more like a demon than a schoolboy in those moments and I wasn’t particularly excited to be at his mercy.
I spotted him then, bit back a shiver, and strode over to where the boy was stretching out very well muscled shoulders. He could probably crack my head like an egg.
“Bakugou-san?” I had always had a soft voice, so I wasn’t surprised when he didn’t look up at me. I cleared my throat, trying to sound more sure, “Bakugou-san? May I have a word?”
“I’m busy. Go ask someone else.” He didn’t even bother to look at me. I knew the guy was surly but that was just plain rude.
“I can’t. I’m your support class partner.” I rubbed at my elbow while he still didn’t bother to look at me, just continued his stretches, “For your hero costume?”
Finally, those sharp red eyes slid over to lock with mine. His eyes went down to my feet and then back, sizing me up like a piece of fresh meat.
“That assignment was announced last week.” He said, an unreadable expression on his face, “I was wondering when you’d come crawling.”
“Yeah, I’m really sorry about the lateness, I’ve been really tied up with lab assignments, it completely flew past me.” I tried to smile, but I was pretty sure it came out as more of a grimace.
Bakugou Katsuki scoffed, “You forgot. How convenient.”
“I really am sorry, Bakugou-san… I was hoping-” I began but he started to stalk away from me, forcing me to jog to keep up with his long strides.
“Buzz off, I don’t work with slackers.”
Slacker? My jaw dropped and I almost lost pace with him. Determined, I sped up to walk beside him. I was almost unaware of the fact that we had an audience. Until I saw a bright red head of hair disappear behind a rocky pillar that made up the training ground floor. My cheeks flooded with blood- how humiliating.
“Bakugou-san, this is a school assignment. We’ve been instructed to work together.” He didn’t slow down, just threw me a nasty look over his shoulder.
“Oi, you shouldn’t be walking through a combat room, it’s dangerous.” He grouched behind him, still not bothering to stop.
Dangerous? There was nobody here but him and whoever was eavesdropping.
“This is my primary assignment! If we don’t work together, I’ll fail my quarterly project. They’ll kick me out of school. I’m here on a scholarship.” I actually didn’t know if I’d get kicked out of the program for not being able to complete my assignment, but I knew that Bakugou certainly didn’t know that. Maybe I could appeal to his sympathy.
“You should have thought of that before you flaked last week.” Appealing to Bakugou Katsuki’s kindness had been a shot in the dark.
“Just give me the costume, then.” I followed unrelentingly, right at his elbow, “I’ll make some improvements and give it right back.”
“My costume is fine how it is, buzz off.” Trying to get Bakugou to talk to me wasn’t working, I’d have to try something else.
“Fine, be mediocre.” I stopped and he quickly put distance between us, “Just like that half assed win at the end of the sports festival…”
It was a dirty move, I knew, but if you can’t beat them, join them. And what did you know? It worked.
“What did you say..?” Fuck, maybe too well. I took a step back when he stopped. Desperate times had called for desperate measures but I felt like I’d made a mistake. The memory of Bakugou handcuffed and gagged on the podium after knocking out the number two hero’s son played through my mind’s eye. I’d probably helped produce the alloy around his hands. It had become widely used in just a few short months after I’d taught a lab how to fuse it.
“I’m sorry!” I bolted. There was a moment where there was silence, only interrupted by my furious foot falls.
“YOU GOT A MOUTH ON YOU, HUH, SHORT SHIT?!” I heard an explosion and someone yelled Bakugou’s name.
I ducked right as the boy launched past me, a smokey sweet scent pungent in the air. Was that the smell of his quirk? Nitroglycerin? I sniffed and kept running. What a terrifying guy.
“Dude, she’s in the support class! She can’t defend herself!” A boy with a shock of red hair was running full pelt at the blonde.
“If she can’t fight, she shouldn’t use fighting words!” Bakugou roared at his friend, flinging himself after me.
“Maybe you’d be able to catch me if you let me make your support gear!” I yelped when I was suddenly tackled to the ground by the larger boy, scraping my knees against the dirt ground when we both rolled. I expected to hit my head, but a large palm gripped the back of it before it could impact. Was he going to blow up my skull?
I started wordlessly screaming bloody murder, scratching and kicking as viciously as I could. He grabbed my wrists, forcing my fingernails away from his face before I could draw blood. I struggled before he slammed my hands down on either side of my head.
“You’re a fucking spitfire, aren’t ya?” Bakugou’s breath was hot on my face and I swore I felt a drop of saliva splatter across my cheek. I turned my head away on instinct to avoid his gaze and any body fluids. That sweet smoky smell was definitely coming from him. He reeked like burnt sugar.
That had to be some sort of tell during a fight. If his opponents had any sense of smell he’d quite possibly be giving up his position when he couldn’t fight head on, not that I thought this guy was concerned about giving away his position, what with the fact that his quirk was literally bombs for hands.
“Bakugou, knock it off!” The weight of the boy crushing me was lifted as two other boys dragged their classmate up.
“You wanna die, shitty hair?!” The blonde roared, smacking his hand up into his friend’s face as he continued to drag him back.
“We’re sorry about him.” Another blonde, this one with bright yellow eyes and an easy going smile, “He’s always like that.”
I sat up, huffing and puffing after being tackled, looking down at my bloodied knees. That fucking bastard! He’d actually tackled me.
“It’s fine, I egged him on.” I sighed, taking the outstretched hand of Bakugou’s classmate. The redhead was still dragging Bomb Boy farther and farther away, his shouts of protest getting harder and harder to hear.
“Kaminari Denki.” He introduced, “And who are you, lovely lady?”
“Aisaka.” I nodded back, brushing the dust away from my skirt and school jacket, “I’m Bakugou-san’s support class partner for his costume. Or at least I was, I might actually be able to switch partners after that.”
Something shifted in Kaminari’s face, “Oh. Is that why he’s been extra pissy lately? We started that assignment last week. Kacchan was the only one without a partner.”
A pang of guilt went through me. As scary as he was, Bakugou was still a teenage boy. To be partnerless in a room full of your peers… I’d be embarrassed and hurt too.
“I was tied up.” I said awkwardly, “I was unable to find time to go look for Bakugou-san.”
“Oh, we know.” Kaminari grinned slyly at me, “Trust me, he didn’t stop bitching about it for at least a couple days.”
“I’m just…” I shook my head, gripping the hem of my skirt, “I think I’ll head back for now.”
“Let me walk you to Recovery Girl’s office.” He offered, “Kacchan got your knees pretty good, didn’t he?”
I sighed, “I didn’t really think he’d tackle me, but I guess I should’ve known.”
“He can be a little rough around the edges, that’s for sure.” Kaminari led the way, holding the heavy door open. I could still hear Bakugou yelling at their other friend in what I assumed was a locker room and flinched when I heard a bang as we walked past the doorway.
“He’s not so scary, I promise.” Kaminari assured me, though he didn’t look particularly convinced himself, “Dude’s always so lucky though. How come I got a guy for a partner and Kacchan gets someone as cute as you? He doesn’t even appreciate it!”
“At least your partner came to find you when the assignment came up.” I grumbled, hurrying out the door behind him.
“That is true. I heard from my partner that this is the biggest assignment for your year, what could have been more important than something that’s worth half your grade?”
“I don’t really have an excuse, Kaminari-san. I saw Bakugou-san at the sports festival and it seemed like more trouble than it was worth.” I grimaced with my honesty, knowing it made me sound judgemental and callous.
“Then why show up now? What changed?” I wasn’t a stranger to the infirmary. I’d nearly blown myself up a handful of times in Daichi’s lab. We only had a few minutes to talk before we got there.
“Someone from the upper class told me that if I scored well I’d get additional lab time. I’m only an assistant right now.” I rolled my eyes, “I’m not very good at school, to be honest.”
Kaminari paused, stopping in his tracks, forcing me to turn to regard him.
His eyebrow twitched and suddenly he was doubled over in laughter, “Y- You’re in the support class, but you aren’t good at school?”
It was true. I had spent months slacking off, thinking it wasn’t worth my time and had barely made it in by the skin of my teeth.
“Y-y-you… realize that most people work their entire lives to come to this school, right? My parents had to put a lien on their house to afford the tuition, but I heard you tell Kacchan you were here on scholarship, right?” He clapped me on the back, tears leaking out of his eyes mirthfully.
“Yeah.” I folded my arms defensively, “I just performed well during the showcase.”
“Oh yeah? What did you showcase?” The showcase was just as big of a deal as the sports festival, I was coming to realize. I hadn’t even attended the showcase for my own invention- I’d had my mom send me the results via text because I’d been at an esports competition. I’d need money in order to be able to help my parents pay the tuition if I got in and video games were something I dominated in. I’d taken the prize money and used it to pad the costs of living in the dorms and food so I didn’t have to take advantage of my parents
“Nothing special. Handcuffs.” I shrugged. Kaminari was an odd fellow, with his matching yellow eyes and hair. Quirks had given people the genetics to have all sorts of colors in their hair and eyes, if not even odder appearances. Bakugou’s eyes had been red and bloodshot, like he’d been glaring out of them far too long and they’d become strained.
“That was you? ” Kaminari raised an eyebrow, “They used those in our last practical to slow the teachers down.”
I rolled my eyes, I had helped with the construction of that specific application, which had taken up even more of my free time.
“Thanks for walking me. Can you tell Bakugou-san that I’m sorry, again?” I scratched my elbow awkwardly, “I was trying to avoid him, but I’d like to make good on that now.”
“Honestly, he’s so hard headed that I doubt you’ll get through to him unless you’re equally as hard headed.” Kaminari shrugged, “You could talk to Kirishima. He listens to him… sometimes.”
I bit my lip and stared at the boy for a long moment, before an idea popped into my head, “How often do you wear your hero costumes?” I asked, trying to keep my face neutral to not betray my scheming.
“Hmmm, not too often, honestly. Only for practicals. We didn’t even get our gear for the sports festival.” Kaminari-san seemed to have forgotten that he was just walking me to the infirmary and followed me absentmindedly into the room. I’d gotten lucky, it seemed, this one of Bakugou’s friends was oblivious as they came. I could certainly use that.
I screwed up my face in pain, “Sorry, give me a second.”
Worry painted over his tan features and he stooped to look at my knees, “Let me go get Recovery Girl. It’s not too bad, honestly, it probably feels worse than it looks. You should have seen some of the injuries Midoriya walked away with from Kacchan. I honestly thought he was gonna rip his head off.”
I gulped and the teenage boy just laughed good naturedly as if ripping someone’s head off was a normal thing that could happen on a tuesday.
He led me by the elbow to one of the examination beds and I made a show of wincing when I sat down. Heroes were heroes afterall, and the more sympathy I could garner from Kaminari Denki, the better.
“Kaminari-san, do you mind staying with me?” I let tears glitter in my eyes. Learning to cry on command had been a useful skill in keeping myself out of trouble in middle school. It probably wouldn’t have worked as well for me if I wasn’t 5’2 and looked like I was still waiting for puberty to hit.
“Y-yeah! I mean, NO! Of course I don’t mind!” He bumbled clumsily, flushing scarlet. He rushed away to the back office, mumbling furiously to himself. I was surprised he didn’t have steam pouring out of his reddening ears.
20 minutes later, I was scrubbing a sticky kiss from my cheek discreetly with freshly scrape free knee caps. Kaminari had stayed silent when I lied about the source, claiming to have fallen. It wasn’t my first infirmary visit, after all, so Recovery Girl was quick to scold my clumsiness and brush the two of us off.
“Thank you, Kaminari-kun.” I switched the suffix effortlessly, blinking at him in a way that I hoped fluttered my lashes at him. He’d waited patiently off to the side for me to have finiId getting treated, and now that I was patched up, I needed to find a way to prolong the interaction in a way that was unsuspicious.
“No problem, no problem! Me and Kirishima should’ve done a better job of keeping Kacchan away from you. He flies off the handle so easily that we should’ve expected him to lose it on you.” He waved me off.
“You’re not responsible for your classmate’s behavior.” I stood, “Do you mind walking me back to the dorm? It’s getting kind of late, I think we missed dinner.”
“Dorm? There are dorms?” It was my turn to flush scarlet. My family didn’t have enough money to live in the city, I came from the countryside. I was a “bumpkin” as Daichi would say. I’d learned pretty early on that you didn’t mention the dorms unless you could help it, it was a somewhat unspoken rule that you didn’t admit you stayed on campus.
“Ah, yeah. It’s mostly just for students that don’t have family in the area.” I lied smoothly. Kaminari gave off the spoiled kid vibe like Daichi did, and I didn’t care for those types of conversations.
“That’s pretty cool you get to live on campus! Yeah, why don’t I walk you back? Do you mind if I get changed first?” He gestured to his school issued gym sweat suit that he wore in lieu of his school uniform
Bingo.
“Yeah, I can come with you. You should probably get a quick shower in too.” I wrinkled my nose, “You shouldn’t get back into regular clothes right after working out.”
He laughed, not phased by my call out, “I’ll be quick. Everybody should be gone by now.”
I checked the time quickly on my phone- almost 7:30. Facility hours officially ended at 7, so I had to be hopeful that the room would be free of stragglers.
I followed Kaminari back to the training rooms painfully slowly, forcing him to keep pace with me and slow our trek back even further to increase my chances.
If Bakugou wasn’t going to let me work with him, I’d work by myself. That bastard had no idea who he was dealing with.
“You wanna wait here? I’ll be right back.” He gestured to a bench in the hallway and I dutifully sat.
“I’ll be right here.” I flashed my most charming smile, enjoying his ever deepening flush.
I probably wouldn’t have very long if the look on his face meant anything.
I waited a compulsory minute or so before following him into the practice room, swinging a hard left into the locker room doorway right. I could hear the water running in the next room but my goal was right in front of me. The lockers.
I quickly found the kanji for his name. It was lucky that the locker rooms were so small. I’d been anticipating a lock, but found it to be bare. Actually, all of the lockers were lockless. I guess they didn’t worry about a group of wanna-be heroes swiping each other’s stuff.
His locker was organized- a back up pair of sweats and tank top, deodorant, and two massive things fashioned to look like grenades. It was surprising, and somehow not surprising. I’d expected something a little less tacky. But bombs for hands was his power so it made sense.
They were also heavier than I expected, a few pounds of weight each. Upon further examination, I realized they were gloves. Gauntlets. Immediately entranced with what could justify such bulky equipment for someone who clearly relied on speed and agility to propel him around, I froze. The possibilities sang through my head like a song I couldn’t turn off.
Fuck, I was going to get caught with my hands dirty. I looked around, desperate. A discarded gym bag sat neatly under the bench. I grabbed it- I was already about to commit a crime, why stop at just the costume? I needed a getaway vehicle now that I realized my boon was so bulky. And loudly colored, with angry orange straps on it. But bomb hands didn’t exactly scream stealth anyway, I guess.
I packed the costume away, ready to make my escape. I mentally apologized to Kaminari, he’d been innocent in everything other than offering me information and not locking up the practice room, but even as spacey as he seemed to be, I think he’d manage to connect the dots when Bakugou realized his costume was missing. Hopefully he’d keep his mouth shut.