Chapter Text
Hitoshi doesn't know why he's here. The mall contains just about everything he hates: loud, rude people walking around like tightly packed sardines, whining—or even worse—screaming children who you can hear but never see, and social interaction. That last one is especially relevant seeing as he isn't even here alone. Instead, he is standing surrounded by members of the infamous class 1-A, the class he'd only been a part of for a handful of weeks, last-minute shopping for their upcoming training camp.
Honestly, Hitoshi would normally never agree to something like this when he could easily go alone to the much less crowded mall a mere two train stops from his house, however, this time wasn't normal. As embarrassing and pathetic as it is, all Kaminari had to do was pout when Hitoshi denied his classmates' invitation for him to suddenly be on board. Still, if he could go back in time and slap some sense into himself three days prior, he would although as he stares at bright blonde hair and wildly animated movements he thinks three days ago Hitoshi wouldn't have changed a thing.
"Come on guys, you have to see it," Kaminari pleads which only serves to put off the two in question.
"No way," Hagakure huffs, and while her tank top makes it hard to know for sure, Hitoshi's almost certain she crosses her arms in resolution. "I hate creepy stuff like that!"
Ashido shoots up from his side, accidentally knocking his shoulder in her hyperactive state but despite his instinctive annoyance, Hitoshi doesn’t really mind. It’s something he’d never really experienced before. In the past, Hitoshi would have become irritated if a classmate had done the same, as he would with most other people but class 1-A really was different from the past. In middle school his peers would either whisper behind his back, hissed accusations and predictions, and avoid him like the plague or they would wrap an arm around his shoulder, acting like they were best friends and laminating about how jealous they were of him and his quirk. The ladder were always the creepier boys who would suggest or imply all kinds of crimes, the type more revolting as the years went on. Those people were the ones he hated the most and now he was surrounded by people who immediately acted buddy-buddy with him but it didn’t even take a week for Hitoshi to learn that they were just like that. It didn’t take much longer for him to learn why.
”Are you talking about Off the Horizon?” Ashido excitedly asks from his side, somehow still positive, nearly happy-go-lucky, despite the years of bullying and gross comments she endured in reference to her mutations.
”Yeah, we’re trying to get these two to go,” Sero, the boy who juggled being in one of the most mentally demanding schools, in the most physically demanding course while practically raising his three younger siblings, shrugs and gestures to Hagakure and Kirishima who had been yet to budge in their decision. Hagakure who had quietly admitted to being treated like she was less than human because she was difficult to spot and Kirishima who was open about his struggles growing up with a quirk viewed as useless.
”Oh my god can I come?! I’ve wanted to see it since the trailer came out!”
”You want to see that? It looks terrifying!” Hagakure shrieks.
"It’s supposed to be one of the best movies of the year, of course I want to see it. Kirishima at least tell me you’ll go,” Ashido begs but the red hair boy only shrugs apologetically.
”Sorry, horror movies really aren’t my thing but you guys can go without us. I mean there’s already like five of you.”
”You know,” Jirou who matches Hitoshi in dry wit, passive-aggressive insults, and, best of all, music taste, drawls amused as she fiddles with an ear jack, “he’s right. After all it wouldn’t be much of a competition if those two are guaranteed to scream during the first five minutes. We’re still doing ice cream on the first to freak, right?”
”A competition? Hell yeah! I am so in,” Ashido cheers with a pumped fist.
”This is gonna be great. I’m gonna start a group chat so we can really plan this!” Kaminari exclaims and, well, you already know how he feels about Kaminari. “Hey, Shinsou, you’ve never said if you’re gonna come.”
”Yeah, Shinsou! It’ll be super fun!”
”Pass. You guys have already drained my social battery and it’s only been ten minutes,” he denies with a playful smirk which earns him some lighthearted boos from the group plus a solemn, understanding nod from Jirou.
From there Hitoshi allows himself to once again zone out, letting overlapping sounds become blissful background noise. He offhandedly notes when Ashido peels away from his side and back to her original group, bringing life back to the conversation between Tsuyu, as she insisted everyone call her, and Tokoyami. While he didn’t often hang out with them, the two were some of his favorite classmates. Tsuyu with her reserved personality, and quiet demeanor yet who always spoke her mind, and Tokoyami who matched the girl in volume and reserved nature but was near poetic when he did speak and had great taste in music. He honestly liked the two and he didn’t mind the group quietly conversing to his left. No, most of the class, he’d found, was at the very least not a chore to exist around, however, there were a few exceptions. The explosive blonde and ice prince luckily decided they had better things to do and Robocop was out of sight, out of mind which only left the near unanimously dubbed power couple of first year directly behind him. Even with his intentional inattention, it seemed all he could hear was the duo whispering between themselves and bursting into fits of giggles with every other sentence.
The thing is Uraraka alone was… fine. She was too bubbly for Hitoshi’s taste but during training she was something else. She wasn’t the strongest in the class, not by far, but she was still a force of nature in her own right. In those moments he respected her, feared her a bit too, not quite confident the girl wouldn’t literally bite someone’s head off one day, and he even understood. He got the feral side that comes with having nothing left to lose, however, that side always seems to melt away whenever she’s within 3 meters of Midoriya, the golden boy of 1-A and Hitoshi’s antithesis.
Midoriya Izuku had his life handed to him on a silver platter. He never had to work for the love and admiration overwhelmingly given to him by their peers, he never had to try to get the teachers on his side, already a teacher’s pet with his obviously embellished eagerness to learn, and he never had to face the truths of their world having been sheltered by the protection his bright and powerful quirk gave; A quirk that shattered every bone in his hand over and over again, leaving the thing limp, swollen, and useless, on live television. That didn't matter, though, because life was carefully crafted with the Midoriyas of the world in mind. It was what allowed the entitled boy to expect to sail into the best hero school in the country without any training, any preparation, and he did. Midoriya Izuku broke three of his four limbs during the entrance exam and he still got into class 1-A meanwhile Hitoshi had worked his ass off, running around desperately trying to earn even a single point. Then when he inevitably failed, Hitoshi had to crawl his way through the ranks during the sports festival just for the golden boy to do the impossible, no doubt aided by his perfect quirk, and knock him out of the running. Luckily Hitoshi was the first person in the last 15 years who wanted a transfer to get into the final event of the festival so after yet another test he was finally allowed into 1-A, taking the seat of what was apparently a perverted grape.
After years of dreaming, he was finally in the school and class of his dreams. It would have been perfect, it should have been perfect except the boy he replaced had sat in seat 19, one seat behind seat 18 and with the law of equivalent exchange the good that he received by getting into 1-A made that seat inhabited by none other than Midoriya Izuku. Truthfully equivalent exchange is a bullshit excuse for what happened though because if that were the case the second he turned 4 until the moment he got into UA should be the price, 1-A should be the reward so really this is all Hitoshi’s luck.
The worst part of it all was that Hitoshi got a front row seat to every confirmation he knows about people like Midoriya. He has to sit there in silence as he watches every question answered correctly, every classmate running to him for help with law and ethics work, and every excruciating conceivable free second spent scribbling and mumbling into a notebook that was definitely not school related. And to top it all off, leaving the classroom isn’t even an escape from the boy because ever since the sports festival he has never seemed to be far behind, something that is very literal now. It’s whatever, though, because as soon as Aoyama shows up, Iida would allow them to leave and hopefully split up. If their strictest classmate demands they stay together Hitoshi will leave, feelings be damned. No matter, he only has to deal with whispers and giggles for another few minutes. In the meantime, he pushes all his irritation into an eye roll and gritted teeth as he puts all his energy into focusing on the tolerable conversation before him even if he doesn’t care to hear about whatever game Kaminari and Hagakure had unknowingly shared an interest in.
After much too long, an exaggerated gasp comes from a distance away. "Qu'est-ce que c'est?" A familiar voice asks and all heads turn to the owner of the voice who saunters toward them. “You all waited for moi? Oh, how gentil."
Not a moment after the appearance of their newest and final group member, Iida begins waving his arms around and loudly admonishing the blonde. "Aoyama you are 13 minutes late. It is very important for us as heroes-" he starts off on his tangent against the flamboyant boy before Hitoshi is able to tune him out, something he doesn’t doubt many of his classmates do too. After all, they had all heard some flavor of this exact lecture and many more before to the point that they'd all learned to block him out if the scathing words weren't directed at them. A smaller handful were able to tune out those same words when they were meant for themself; Hitoshi is proud to be a part of that select group.
After a few more seconds of sporadic words flowing in one ear and out the other Yaoyorozu, another classmate Hitoshi doesn't mind, claps her hands together and mercifully draws everyone's attention to her instead. "Okay!" she exclaims with embellished enthusiasm, ever the rallying class president, "I think that accounts for everyone, right?"
Nods and, mostly, quiet sounds of agreement come from the group, that is until a cheerful voice calls from the back, "Everyone but the party poopers!" Everyone, Hitoshi included, turns just in time to see Midoriya giggle and hiss the girl's name in reprimand—which gag—but Uraraka only laughs boisterously. "What? You know I'm right."
This time he's happy as Iida starts off on another rant. As always the bubbly girl gives a half-hearted apology to sate her uptight friend which allows them to actually move on and hopefully leave. Once he's satisfied the robotic-like boy clears his throat and somehow straightens himself out even though no part of him had been put out of place. "As Yaoyorozu said before, it appears as though we are all here so I propose we create a plan. It would be most efficient for us to split up based on our needs-"
It's odd, inexplicable even that in the middle of the loud, crowded mall, filled with shuffling masses, and surrounded by Iida’s booming voice, something catches his attention. His eyes stray to a young boy with tense shoulders and his head on a swivel. The longer he stares the more he can pick out the distress in the boy's movements but for some reason Hitoshi feels stuck in place. He's training to become a hero, it's been his dream for years but in the face of this lost-looking child the thought of helping doesn't even cross his mind, instead, his mind is overrun by a creeping unease that sends a shiver down his spine. All he can do is watch, almost in waiting, as the child stumbles around growing closer and closer to their group until he's abruptly stopped by an invisible force. With the noise of surprise she makes and his most basic skills of awareness Hitoshi immediately knows who just stopped this boy in his tracks but the boy himself remains unaware and it seems this confusion is the straw that broke the camel's back. Fat tears well up in already wide eyes and fall in quick succession. With the sound of a pathetic sniffle Hagakure finally recovers from her stupor and, with all the concern in the world, addresses the boy. "Hey, are you okay?" She asks in a soft and kind voice but the boy's face quickly morphs into one of fear and with a squeal of surprise something shifts. Suddenly Hitoshi not in a mall, people boxing him in on every side, suddenly he's on a roller coaster he doesn't remember boarding, nose-diving down the first drop, his body falling quickly while his organs don’t get the same memo.
As quickly as it came, the feeling is gone leaving behind the same disorientation of an actual roller coaster. Even with his stomach continuing its Olympic-level gymnastics routine and his vision swaying his view it doesn’t take long for him to notice the vast differences in his surroundings. It looks like he’s been transported somewhere else. The place he’s in is a large, empty expanse except there are familiarities. Beside him is a tall plateau that’s hollowed out in the middle and in the far distance he can see a glowing display advertising some coffee shop in the mall he had been in. He recognizes them both and much more as he continues to look around in confusion but now all these objects seem more like landmarks with their incredible size.
Hitoshi barely has the time to process it all let alone try to figure out what the hell is going on before the ground beneath him starts to violently shake. It’s difficult but Hitoshi is able to stand his ground and with a stable position he looks up and his stomach drops feeling like a stone inside him. From every direction he sees dozens of giants stampeding toward him or rather the space where he is because with his current size there is no way any normal eyes would be able to see him.
As the people run closer the earthquake-like shake makes it impossible to take a steady step let alone run to safety and even if he could the nearest safe haven appeared to be kilometers away rather than the few meters he knows it to be. His heart begins to beat out of his chest knowing the near impossible chances of him making it through the masses alive are terrifyingly low but Hitoshi has never been one to give up. He was constantly and consistently knocked down by life itself and told to stay down by almost everyone around him but every time he would get back up, dust himself off, and trudge along more prepared for the next obstacle. All his life Hitoshi has had the odds stacked against him and he has never let that stop him so he picks up a leg and takes a clumsy step forward. He begins to run across the concrete field with wobbly movements and a swaying course until he has to skid to a stop when a mountainous shoe falls right in front of him. Hitoshi adjusts his course but once one appeared the meteor shower of thunderous steps begins. All around him massive objects land as he works himself to exhaustion leaping out of the way of their deadly course. His calves begin to ache, his chest heaves in heavy breaths, and his heart beats a quick pattern into his ribs. Hitoshi’s movements begin to slow as he becomes lethargic and when he’s barely able to dodge another obstacle his near reality truly sets in. The corners of his eyes begin to prickle with rare tears born from a storm of painful emotions. He fights to ignore it, to keep pushing on, but his body screaming out in physical and emotional pain makes it so hard. With a prolonged blink the first of his built of tears fall in a burning line down his cheek but instead of trailing down to his chin both it and his course are changed as something collides with his stomach. For a moment he believes the feeling is the beginning of the end but when nothing but a lost breath comes Hitoshi peels his eyes open to find himself flying through the tightly packed crowd with horribly familiar green sparks flickering around him.
”Don’t worry, Shinsou, I’ve got you,” the other boy calls over the noise with a sickeningly reassuring tone. His stomach once again fills with dread because with wild green hair, blinding lightning, and a wide smile—always a smile—aimed at him, Hitoshi realizes that the arms of his savior wrapped tightly around his waist belong to none other than Midoriya frickin’ Izuku. Just great.