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Hitoshi was a simple boy with simple needs. He didn’t need much at all, and he knew better than to want for anything. Material items were only a joke compared to the experiences that UA and his mentor, Aizawa, had given him. He had gone through so much in the short two years he had been at UA.
He failed the entrance exam for the hero course but got into general studies. He lost at the sports festival. He was chosen by Aizawa to be the successor to the capture scarf technique. He excelled enough to be moved to the hero course. He moved out of foster care and into the dorms.
He even earned his provisional license.
He did all of this on his own. No parents to help him. A grant courtesy of Nezu covered his tuition. A side job paid for his most basic needs.
Hitoshi had everything he could hope for. Well, except for a pair of shoes with no holes.
His shoes were fine, really. Just a few holes on the side. Nothing to be concerned about. They weren’t too cold in the winter, and they were very breathable in the summer. Honestly it was a good thing.
Hitoshi never thought much about it when he pulled on his sneakers in the morning. He was on the way out to face another day at UA! He also didn’t give it much thought when he toed off the shoes on his way to his bed to relax after getting his ass handed to him by Aizawa in training.
They simply weren’t important to him... until one day he walked into class where Bakugou was sitting with his feet on his desk, the rest of the class gawking at how nice and new his shoes were.
Hitoshi felt like they were all in middle school, looking at the crowd of students around the egotistical boy. Hitoshi went straight to his seat and pulled out his homework to get ready for class.
“Hey Shitty Dishwasher!” Bakugou called and stood up, marching over to him. “What was with that shitty look on your stupid face when you looked at me huh? You lookin’ to get your ass beat?” He growled, his hands diggings into the desk as he gripped it, small explosions burning the wood.
Hitoshi threw up an eyebrow and looked at the other, annoyance clear in his eyes. “My quirk is brainwashing, and I think it’s ridiculous that the class is gawking over something as materialistic as shoes when we are here to be heroes.” Hitoshi explained, standing up and shaking his head. The class was reminded there that Hitoshi was almost two inches taller than Bakugou. “Go sit back down, Bakugou.” Hitoshi ordered, not using an ounce of his quirk.
Before Bakugou could lose his cool, the door to the classroom slid open and their homeroom teacher walked in. “Alright class-“ Aizawa started, then glanced to see the entire room in disarray (save for Yaoyorozu and Todoroki in their seats). Iida was yelling for the boys to back off, Bakugou was now screaming obscenities and scratching at Hitoshi while Kirishima held him back, Hitoshi had the most shiteating grin on his face, and everyone else was scattered around the room, now scrambling to their desks.
“I don’t know what is happening here, but if this doesn’t stop now, I’m expelling both of you.” Aizawa threatened at Hitoshi and Bakugou.
Hitoshi instantly shrunk at the threat and took his seat again, absolutely mortified that he disappointed his mentor like that.
Bakugou wasn’t nearly as afraid of Aizawa. “You’re just jealous because not only am I a better hero than you, I also can afford shoes that aren’t from middle school.” Bakugou spat before finally relenting and letting Kirishima drag him to his seat.
Class went surprisingly smooth from there. No outbursts, just focus. Hitoshi couldn’t even risk the idea of getting expelled from UA, and Bakugou just didn’t care enough, having better people to torture like Midoriya.
After class, Hitoshi headed out to the practice field to start his laps. Training with Aizawa always started with laps. Maybe if he was doing laps when Aizawa arrived, the man would go easy on the scolding.
By the time Aizawa arrived at the practice field, he was an hour late.
Hitoshi was fuming. He had run 2 miles more than he normally had to, and was laying in the cool grass absolutely seething and out of breath. How DARE Aizawa stand him up? How dare his mentor ignore him. Is this really it? A scuffle with Bakugou is what ruined his chances at UA and got himself expelled? Slowly, Hitoshi’s breathing got harder, and his heart beat faster. He fucked up. He ruined it. He was going to be kicked out, he was going to be homeless again. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t BREATHE!
Hitoshi started panicking, his mind racing and unable to stop. He fucked it up he ruined it it’s all ov- OOF. The wind was suddenly knocked out of Hitoshi’s lungs by a box falling full force on his chest. He took a deep breath -moreso a gasp- his eyes refocusing on the tall man clad in black standing above him.
“Get off the ground, Shinsou.” Aizawa said monotonously, moving away from him and going to stretch out slightly. He walked back to a bench nearby and sat next to a bag with two more boxes in it.
Hitoshi looked so confused as he sat up, examining the non-descript box in his hands. He looked between the box and his mentor.
“Just open it, good god.” AIzawa groaned. “You’re wasting my time kid.”
Hitoshi flinched and nodded, opening the box to see a brand new pair of running shoes. He stared at them with shock. “What are these…?”
“God, are you really that slow?” Aizawa quipped, a small smile on his lips. He was teasing, and only a few people could tell when that was happening.
Hitoshi stared at the shoes for a long moment. “Are these for me…?”
Aizawa gave a nod, knocking his knuckles on the top of the other two boxes. “These too. Running shoes-” He gestured to the box Hitoshi held. “-Formal shoes, and house slippers.”
Hitoshi stared at him longer, like his mentor had shown up with three heads instead of three pairs of shoes.
“Look, I know they aren’t the most stylish, That’s Yamada’s strong point, but they last forever… They’re the same brand that I wear. They’re good quality.” Aizawa explained, clearing his throat almost nervously. “Just put them on so we can train.”
Hitoshi smiled at that, tears pricking at his eyes. He felt that matching with his sensei was much better than having the latest style. Hitoshi nodded and quickly put on the shoes and stood up, placing the old shoes in the box and setting them on the bench next to Aizawa. “Okay, what’s for training today, sensei?”
Aizawa grinned a devilish grin that shot a chill up Hitoshi’s spine. “Break in your shoes, start running.”