Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Is this a good idea?” Hitoshi asked, chewing his lip. He stared down at the envelope in his hand. At the stack on the desk in front of him. He didn’t even know where to start, or if he even needed to open any of the rest besides the one in his hands. 

“I don’t believe that is the important criteria here.” Aizawa said nonchalantly, sitting across from him. They were in his office, Aizawa having pulled Hitoshi aside after school to speak to him about internship offers based on his performance in the Sports Festival. When he had said that, Hitoshi had thought he didn’t get any and Aizawa didn't want to spill the beans in front of everyone else. 

Not because Hitoshi had over 4,000 offers to parse through.

He had been worried his Quirk would scare people and that he wouldn’t get as many offers as someone like Todoroki, with a strong Quirk. Take Bakugo; he got plenty of offers, but his behavior had apparently put some agencies off because he had significantly less than they were expecting him to. 

But they liked him. They had rooted for him. The few thousand offers proved it and Hitoshi still didn’t know quite what to make of it. 

Aizawa had told him that he would have access to all of them, of course, but Aizawa had taken the liberty of assembling offers of particular interest to Hitoshi. Meaning top rankers, underground heroes of repute, and those with psychological Quirks. 

And here Hitoshi was, staring down at an offer from Endeavor’s agency. His hands were sweaty and wrinkling the envelope. 

“I believe it would be a ‘good idea’ to take an offer from any of these agencies.” Aizawa elaborated. “There isn’t a wrong choice, though there are likely ones that you are better suited for than others. Still, there is value in learning skills you are unfamiliar with or are not naturally suited to.” 

Hitoshi bit back a sigh. It didn’t surprise him at all that Aizawa was refusing to influence his decision. 

“I don’t think I’m suited to Endeavor’s agency.” Hitoshi stated. “I have a psychological Quirk and he doesn’t employ any as far as I’m aware. I am going to be an underground hero and he’s the second highest ranked hero in Japan.” Aizawa reclined in his chair a little, crossing his arms over his chest and nodding. 

“All of that is true. Endeavor does not employ any heroes with psychological Quirks.” He said. “And yet, you’re still strongly considering it.”

“Yeah.” Hitoshi said, rubbing his forehead and staring down at the envelope. “It’s just…”

“He’s the second highest ranked hero in Japan.” Aizawa echoed his words back to him. Hitoshi carded a hand through his hair. 

“I feel like it’s something I have to take, you know? Like, isn’t this the kind of thing that opens doors for you? A prestigious internship?” Hitoshi asked. He knew what he wanted to do ultimately with his life. He just...had no idea how to get there. 

“It would be prestigious.” Aizawa conceded. “As would many of these other internships. But I understand why you wouldn’t want to turn down this one in particular.” 

“I just don’t know how to choose.” Hitoshi confessed. 

And that blowing off Endeavor would somehow become a thing . He had spied the hero towering over his son around the stadium a few times, mustache flaming and looking a little constipated. Hitoshi felt like the hero would take it personally, even though he doubted the hero had the particular skill set Hitoshi was looking to learn. 

“I would offer this criteria as you make your decision.” Aizawa said. “Where do you think you will learn the most?”

Not Endeavor’s. The answer was simple.

“Maybe the Wild Wild Pussycats?” Hitoshi said. “Mandalay added a personal note and she’s got a psychological Quirk. And they’re well-ranked.” Aizawa nodded again curtly in response. 

“I am familiar with them. I trust Mandalay as a mentor and she has a lot of experience with a non-traditional skill set.” Aizawa offered, but didn’t say anything more about it. Hitoshi understood why Aizawa didn’t want to influence him but Hitoshi also kind of wished he would just tell him which one to take. “You have some more time to decide and there are still offers you need to look through.” Aizawa said. “You don’t have to pick one right now.” 

Hitoshi sighed, dropping the envelope from Endeavor’s agency onto the pile and leaning back. 

“I’ll just bag them and go over them at home. I’m going to be doing a lot of googling.” Hitoshi liked heroes. He really did. But he didn’t lose his mind over the top 50 the way some people did. He had his underground favorites - Eraserhead among them - and tended to follow those closely. 

So that meant he had to do a lot of research on some of these agencies. 

“Before you go-,” Aizawa said, abruptly straightening in his seat. He pulled open a drawer and took something out. Hitoshi couldn’t see what it was until he handed it to him. 

An envelope.

From the Eraserhead Hero Agency .

“Oh.” Hitoshi said. That made things a lot easier.

“I do not want you to feel obligated to accept.” Aizawa said sternly. “I will still be working with you during class and we already have time scheduled outside the school day. None of that is conditional.”

Hitoshi was going to accept. It was an easy choice. Of course, he would still go over the offers. He would still do his research. But he knew in his heart that he was going to take that internship. 

It was the most logical option, as Aizawa would say.

At least, that’s what Hitoshi was going to say when he swore up and down to Aizawa that he gave all his options a fair shake.

XXXX

“Shit-, sorry.” Hitoshi said as he stumbled to the side, some of the envelopes slipping from his hand. He must look like a nut, envelopes stuffed into his pockets, clutched in his sweaty grasp, bursting from his backpack. 

And he had just rammed Todoroki in the shoulder and nearly knocked him off his feet, so that was great too. 

“It’s alright.” Todoroki said as he took a step back to orient himself. He bent down to gather some of the envelopes Hitoshi had dropped. 

“Oh, you don’t have to-,” Hitoshi said quickly, scrambling to grab some of them before Todoroki could get to them. He felt bad. He smashed right into the guy and he was just picking up Hitoshi’s garbage. “Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” 

“It’s alright.” Todoroki repeated. “I’m not mad. It was an accident.” Hitoshi straightened up as they both rose from the ground, envelopes in their hands. The split-haired boy looked a little amused. “Shinso, are you worried that I’m mad at you about the Sports Festival?” Hitoshi blinked.

Well, no use lying. That question cut straight to the point. It would be dumb to dodge it.

“Yeah, pretty much.” He said. The corner of Todoroki’s mouth quirked up.

“I’m not.” Todoroki said. “It would have been nice to win, but all I would have gotten is a medal. At least you…” Todoroki paused, obviously thinking. “...you gained something that no one else would be able to appreciate, I think.”

“Oh.” Hitoshi said. He guessed that was true. 

“If it had to be anyone, I’m glad it was you.” Todoroki said, and Hitoshi felt his chest tighten. “By the way, congratulations.” Todoroki said, holding out some of the envelopes. Hitoshi took them, and the envelope on top was Endeavor’s. 

“Thank you.” Hitoshi said. He shuffled them awkwardly. The one underneath was Aizawa’s offer.

So Todoroki had seen them both. 

“I’m going to go ahead and assume we won’t be interning together.” Todoroki said wryly and Hitoshi rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“It’s a great offer, I just...I don’t think his agency is a good fit for me.” He said. Todoroki shrugged, unbothered. “He seems like that’ll piss him off though.”

The split-haired boy blinked back.

“What?”

“Well…” Hitoshi could envision the constipated look on Endeavor’s face and how pissed off Todoroki seemed every time he had to talk to him. “He’s kind of a jackass.” His classmate let out a huff of breath through his nose, close to a laugh. 

“You’re not wrong.” Todoroki said. “He wanted to see what kind of person would beat me. That’s why he sent you an offer.” Hitoshi didn’t think Todoroki was being egotistical by saying that. He remembered Endeavor shouting with glee when Todoroki used his fire. Hitoshi didn’t know exactly what it was, but Endeavor certainly had some sort of complex. 

“Oh, he would fucking hate me.” Hitoshi said and Todoroki actually snorted. 

“He likes to spar with the interns.” Todoroki said. “You would beat him every single time and it would infuriate him.” Hitoshi let out a guttural laugh, tossing his head back. Oh, his favorite type of person. Incapable of shutting up and easily provoked. 

“Maybe I should take the internship. I could use that kind of ego boost.” Aizawa was probably going to beat Hitoshi up repeatedly. Yes, it was his dream and yes , he would learn so much in such a short time from his actual, literal, idol. But Hitoshi had come to know Aizawa a bit more and knew he was in for some suffering. Hitoshi thought for another moment about what Todoroki said. “You’re going to intern with him after all?” 

“Yeah.” Todoroki said. “I still have a lot to learn from him, even if I don’t like him.” It made sense, but his classmate’s relationship with his father seemed impossibly complex. If they were closer friends Hitoshi would ask him more about it, but it didn’t seem a prudent time to go digging. “I think you have somewhere better suited for you anyways.”

“Maybe I’ll catch you on some rooftop or something.” Hitoshi said. “While Aizawa swings me Tarzan-style from building to building.” He was joking, but Todoroki furrowed his brow. 

“Aizawa goes on rooftops?” He asked.

“Wait, have you ever seen an Eraserhead video?” Hitoshi asked suddenly. Todoroki shook his head. He couldn’t help but let a sneaky smile creep across his face. He was about to blow this kid’s mind about his teacher. They all knew him as Aizawa-sensei, the caterpillar-esque man who looked like a hobo and lived a weird, Spartan life. All true, but missing some key aspects.

Hitoshi knew him as Eraserhead first. One of the toughest heroes in the underground, a group combat specialist, one of the scariest things a criminal could see in the dead of night. 

“I’m sending this to you right now. I’m about to rock your world.” Hitoshi said, shoving the envelopes under his arm. “I’m gonna DM it to you through the class groupchat-,”

“You can just text it to me.” Todoroki said abruptly. Hitoshi caught a fleeting look of nervousness in his face but it quickly dissipated. He didn’t mind, of course. It was even a little flattering. It just reminded him that Todoroki was socially awkward in a completely different way than Hitoshi. “Here, I’ll give you my number.”

XXXX

Aizawa’s house was weird. 

Hitoshi was staying in his guest room for the week. The agency wasn’t a part of the actual building that Aizawa lived in. Even though Hitoshi was getting the sense that the Eraserhead Agency was mostly just Aizawa with a few rotating contracts and occasional mentorship, there was an actual office. Aizawa had said something about a healthy separation between work and home, which Hitoshi could understand. 

But Hitoshi lived pretty far away to commute every day and most of the hero agencies provided housing for their interns anyways. 

Aizawa’s house was nice, to be honest. And that’s why, to Hitosh, it was weird . Since joining 1-A, the hero had slept in a sleeping bag on the floor in front of everyone, with absolutely zero shame. He ate weird jelly pouches. He enforced crazy training regimens both during and after school.

Like the guy was weird .

Hitoshi half expected to find his place of residence to be a dirty mattress on the ground and a hot plate in the corner.

Instead, it was...homey. Nice and warm with a big plush rug in the living room, comfy couches, a cat tree in the corner. There was a record player in the corner of the room and shelves of old vinyls. Hitoshi would even go as far as to say the house was kitschy, with little sentimental knick knacks on the big bookshelf lining one of the walls. Hitoshi hadn’t seen one yet, but he could tell that there were at least two cats, from the tree and the sets of little tiny bowls. 

And more importantly, that there was definitely someone else living here. He had his suspicions, of course, but he was still dying to ask. 

Currently, Hitoshi was sitting at the kitchen counter while Aizawa made him some tea. He was inspecting everything, twisting in his seat shamelessly. He caught Aizawa rolling his eyes at him, but just grinned back. 

“It’s nice.” Hitoshi said. A lot nicer than where he lived. “It’s quiet.” In a good way. Not oppressive silence. Just the faint noises of the kettle, little footsteps from the cats down the hall. A nice, peaceful quiet. 

“Not always.” Aizawa said. Hitoshi shrugged.

“Better than being somewhere there’s never a moment of peace.” Aizawa hummed in response. 

“Since you’ll be staying here this week-,” Aizawa started to say, passing a mug over to Hitoshi.

Before he got any further, the door creaked open and a familiar voice filled the silence.

“ Shouta! Is the little listener here yet-,” Present Mic barged in, kicking his shoes off at the door, full of life and enthusiasm. He was dressed down, long blonde hair pulled back in a bun, glasses instead of his usual sunglasses, and nearly unrecognizable. If not for the voice, Hitoshi wouldn’t have pegged him so fast. He spotted Hitoshi and screeched to a halt. Hitoshi heard his teacher sigh behind him. 

“I knew it! ” Hitoshi yelled, slamming his palm on the counter. There was another huff of breath from behind him, but Present Mic let out a laugh, bending at the waist. 

“That’s why you’re my favorite, little listener!” The voice hero said.

“ Hizashi .” 

“What?” Present Mic squawked as he shuffled in. He had some grocery bags in his arms. Aizawa simply massaged the bridge of his nose, before turning back to Hitoshi.

“Hizashi and I are partners.” He paused. “He also lives here.” He added, like an afterthought. Hitoshi snickered.

“This is what domestic bliss looks like!” Present Mic declared. Hitoshi knew that the voice hero was joking, but from his perspective, it certainly did. They were happy. Everything, from the squabbling, the easy interactions, the way the house was lovingly decorated by the both of them….it all told him that this was a happy home. Not Present Mic and Eraserhead, but Yamada Hizashi, Aizawa Shouta, and their two cats in a clean, well-lighted home.

There were times Hitoshi would have killed to live somewhere like this.

“Shinso, what’s your favorite food?” Present Mic asked, as he unloaded the groceries. Aizawa had started putting things in the fridge without being asked. Hitoshi blinked. 

“Uh, I don’t know.” He said, taken aback. No one had ever asked him anything like that. 

“Well, what do you get on your birthday?” Present Mic asked again. “You get to choose whatever, what do you choose?”

“Probably nothing. Whatever’s available.” Hitoshi said with a shrug. “For the record, every single one of my foster parents has been a horrible cook and I don’t eat out much so…” Hitoshi shrugged. “I don’t really have a favorite meal, I guess.” Present Mic grabbed his chest dramatically.

“We’ll have to fix that! We can’t let you wander around the rest of your life without a favorite food !” He hurried into the kitchen, rushing to the sink to wash his hands. “You eat meat, right? Any allergies?”

“I eat everything.” Hitoshi said. “No allergies. At least nothing I know about.” He leaned against the counter, stretching his arms out. So, you guys have cats?” Hitoshi asked hopefully. 

“Two!” Present Mic said cheerfully. Hitoshi did not reveal that he had painstakingly deducted that already.

“Coconut and Peaches.” Aizawa said nonchalantly, leaning against one of the cabinets. He said with no intonation, like he hadn’t just said the two cutest cat names in the entire world.

“Oh my god.” Hitoshi said. “That’s adorable.” 

“They like people, they’re just playing in the hallway right now.” Aizawa said. Hitoshi could hear the tell-tale pitter-patter of little cat feet. 

They sat there for a few minutes, Present Mic chattering away about meal plans for the week. At some point, Hitoshi’s phone went off and he glanced down to see a message from Todoroki. He picked it up to shoot a message back. 

“So, are you getting along well with everyone in 1-A?” Present Mic asked.

“Yeah, I’d say so.” Hitoshi said, putting his phone back down and setting his chin against his fist. “Everyone is a lot nicer than I thought they would be. Even Todoroki and I thought he would hate me.” He admitted. Aizawa glanced over nonchalantly. 

“Was that him just now?” Aizawa asked. Hitoshi nodded.

“Yeah, he’s interning with his dad. I talked to him about it. He knows I turned Endeavor down. It would have been kind of fun to intern alongside Todoroki, though. He is wonderfully awkward.” Hitoshi said. Aizawa raised an eyebrow.

“Wonderfully awkward?” He said. Hitoshi couldn’t help it; he grinned back.

“I mean, I know I’m socially awkward because people always get weird around my Quirk. He’s wonderfully awkward in that he has no experience with people his age whatsoever and maybe it made him all quiet and brooding early in the year but he does not let it stop him at all any more from interacting with the world however he pleases.  He has such specific vocabulary too, completely devoid of pop culture. He’s like a little old man.” Present Mic let out a sharp laugh, turning from where he was working on the stove. 

“Kid, I love hearing your takes on people.” The voice hero said, gesturing with a spatula. “Do Midoriya.”

“Nerdy bodybuilder.” Hitoshi said immediately and Present Mic let out a screech. “I wanna be clear; I adore Midoriya. He’s so geeky and short but also so ridiculously strong. You look at him and it’s curly hair and bambi eyes and he really is a very sweet person and then he rips a door off its hinges. It’s amazing. One day, I think he’ll snap and he’ll break every bone in Bakugo’s body. I’m looking forward to that too.” 

“ Stop! ” Present Mic shrieked, literally hunching over and shaking violently as he laughed. “I can’t take it!”

“I aim to entertain.” Hitoshi said. 

“Do All Might!” Present Mic begged and Hitoshi took a breath.

“Okay, I do want to preface this by saying that All Might is very cool. He really is everything people say he is. I was not at all disappointed by meeting him.” Hitoshi said, and the blonde man was nodding along carefully. “That being said, he’s kind of a freak.” 

Present Mic practically convulsed with laughter. Hitoshi caught Aizawa hiding a grin in his mug of tea.

“It is the costume. I’ll say it.” He wasn’t quite prepared to say man’s got an ass and he shows it to the world every goddamn day to his teachers, so he left that part out. He could and would say it to Midoriya and watch him have a seizure. “I also can’t believe he really talks like that. He’s a cartoon caricature.” The blonde hero was slapping the counter. “I think he’s a good person!” Hitoshi argued, to no one, really. “I just….think other things too.” 

It took a few minutes, but eventually Present Mic straightened up, wiping tears from his eyes while he did. 

“Little listener, you are a riot .” He said. Hitoshi smiled back wryly.

“I’ve been told I have a skill for provoking people.” 

“Jokes not withstanding-,” Aizawa said suddenly, and Hitoshi knew what he meant. The evaluations he had just provided were, of course, surface level. He had deeper thoughts on his classmates and teachers but he had simply offered what he thought would entertain Present Mic. It wasn’t surprising that Aizwa had picked up on that. “-, you have a better skill for reading people than the majority of your classmates.” 

Well, yeah. Hitoshi liked to think so at least. A life in foster care. A Quirk where people either didn’t trust him, wanted something from him, or both. Learning to read people was about self preservation. 

“People tell you who they are pretty quickly.” Hitoshi said with a shrug. “And they don’t change too much either.” Aizawa tilted his head and Hitoshi laced his fingers in front of him. “It might be a negative view, but if people were their best selves, you’d already be out of the job.” 

Aizawa blinked back.

“You’re too young to have to think like this.” He commented dryly, and Hitoshi knew he was joking. “Think more about teenage drama or something.”

 Hitoshi laughed out loud.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I do have a question for you.” Aizawa said. Hitoshi could see the gears turn for a moment before he continued onward. “I was planning to give you a meal plan to follow at home. With more physical activity and an elevated Quirk usage, you’re going to be burning far more calories than normal.” Aizawa explained. “It’s alright if the answer to my question is no; we have several options to meet your needs. But do you believe that your foster parents would be capable of meeting the demands of a meal plan?”

Hitoshi scratched the back of his head, knowing he must have become visibly uncomfortable. Aizawa must have been thinking about this for a while and the conversation about what Hitoshi would eat must have made him reevaluate something. He thought for a second about the question.

“No.” Hitoshi admitted. “There’s just a lot of foster kids in the house and…” Hitoshi searched for an explanation beyond they just don’t like me . Aizawa just nodded curtly back.

“That’s fine. Lunch Rush already makes before and after school meals for many students at UA for a variety of reasons. I’ll put in an order and talk to Lunch Rush.” He said, his demeanor completely without judgement. He stopped for another second, thinking. “Any specific preferences?” Hitoshi blinked.

“Uh, not really.”

Aizawa peered at him carefully. For a moment, it seemed like he was going to ask a question before he changed his mind.

“Take a moment to think about it.” He said, his voice soft for a moment before returning to its usual tone. “The meal plan is to keep you healthy, but there’s no reason to follow a meal plan you dislike when we can make adjustments easily. It's not logical.” And Hitoshi knew that Aizawa had been about to ask something more. Maybe if Hitoshi had ever thought about it. If anyone had ever asked him that. If he had ever been afforded the freedom to choose. 

Maybe he didn’t ask because it wasn’t a good time, or because it would change the mood suddenly. But most likely because the answer was probably obvious.

“I will.” Hitoshi said, voice a little quieter than before. He decided to switch subjects, no matter how blatant it was.  “Anyways, how did you come up with Eraserhead as your hero name?” 

Aizawa simply pointed at Present Mic, who let out a raucous laugh.

Chapter Text

Things had been going well.

Aizawa took him through the agency, gave him the rundown on how it all worked generally and how Aizawa himself ran his agency. Apparently, most agencies had patrol shifts, case work shifts, and emergency response shifts, and on-call hours. Larger agencies used a rotating schedule for patrol and emergency response shifts that switched up every few weeks so that it couldn’t be tracked. Upon joining agencies, most heroes had no choice and were assigned to all different types of shifts but got more freedom to choose as they gained prestige and experience. 

Since the Eraserhead Agency was primarily just Aizawa with outside contractors he put his name behind, Aizawa had one 5-hour night patrol shift and two 5-hour emergency response night shifts per week and worked cases in between. The patrol shift rotated through week days and the emergency response shifts were usually for weekends. Hitoshi had been assured that since they were night shifts in a crowded, metropolitan area, that they were nearly always busy.

The office space itself was nice, with Aizawa’s own office, two others that appeared well-used, a conference room, and a break room with coffee and some snacks. There was a gym and a locker room too.

Aizawa even went ahead and showed him some of his active cases. Some he had come across on his own, some had been passed along by other agencies, but plenty came from the police. It was apparently important to establish a good rapport with police departments and other first responders for that very reason. Hitoshi had gotten a good look at Aizawa’s file cabinets and it only confirmed Aizawa’s reputation as a respected, trusted hero.

The first part of Hitoshi’s day was warm-ups, strength building exercises, and combat training. Hitoshi had been introduced to the capture weapon, which he was utterly incapable of wielding, as well as a variety of other weapons. After combat training came Quirk exercises which included Present Mic as an enthusiastic test subject and always left Hitoshi with a pounding headache from pushing the limits of what he could do. Thankfully, Aizawa had picked up on that before the week started and scheduled in time for Hitoshi to nap in the dark, face-down like a corpse, while lunch was made. 

Then came what Hitoshi liked to describe as junior detective school, where Aizawa tried to drill observational skills and investigative techniques into him relentlessly. It was like a crash course police academy. He even made Hitoshi take notes.

And then back to combat training. It was different from before, more like self defense training. Aizawa focused on hand to hand combat in the morning but the afternoon training covered how to disarm someone carrying a weapon, how to disarm a gun, how to break a chokehold, things of that nature. 

Hitoshi never thought that anything Aizawa taught him was unnecessary. In fact, it all seemed impossibly crucial to the job, to the point where Hitoshi couldn’t believe they hadn’t covered some of this yet at UA. Hitoshi was learning so much he felt like his brain was about to burst. 

Aizawa had scheduled an emergency response and patrol shift for the last two nights of the week so he could cram as much information into Hitoshi’s head as possible before he dragged him out into the world. Which Hitoshi was thankful for, but that meant that Aizawa had no problem grinding him to dust before then. 

“Stinky child.” Present Mic scolded him as Hitoshi lunged over the counter to grab an apple slice from the plate. Hitoshi had noticed that Present Mic was feeding him snacks like a toddler, but hadn’t said anything about it yet. Right now, it was apple slices and peanut butter as a pre-dinner snack. He did wonder if Present Mic assumed everyone under the age of 18 just ate the same, regardless of age. Maybe tomorrow it would be ants on a log. Hitoshi wasn’t anti ants on a log. It was just a little odd.

He liked apples and peanut butter though, so he just shoved the entire slice into his mouth. 

“You’re like one of our cats.” Aizawa said as he walked past the two of them to get into the kitchen. “Coconut will gorge himself to death if we don’t limit his portion size.” 

“And you’re stinky like Coconut, little listener.” Present Mic dramatically grabbed his nose and pinched it shut. Hitoshi just rolled his eyes. He knew he was sweaty and gross, but he wasn’t that bad.

“I promise I’ll go shower in a minute.” He said, snatching another apple slice and scooping up some peanut butter. Present Mic had set it on the counter so he could reach it. Aizawa set a glass of water in front of him and Hitoshi blinked and swallowed. “Oh, thanks.” He said. “You know, I appreciate it, but you guys really don’t have to do so much for me.” 

His unkempt teacher arched an eyebrow.

“You mean feeding you?” He said, and Hitoshi just shrugged.

“I just mean I can get stuff for myself. You’re doing a lot and I don’t mean to put you out so much.”

“You ran four miles this morning alone , followed by a full day of combat training.” Aizawa said flatly. “You’re so tired your leg buckled on the stairs.” Hitoshi cringed. He had nearly wiped out in front of his teacher. “Giving you some food and water is the bare minimum of what I and every other hero hosting a student agreed to.” Hitoshi winced a little, trying to find the right words.

“You’re both just so….welcoming to a strange kid in your house.”

How did he even explain it? He had spent all the life he could really remember being tossed from home to home. And here, he had two authority figures in his life who listened when he spoke. Who wanted to hear what he had to say. Who were looking out for him, making sure he was taken care of.

Who just liked him. 

“Well, that’s because we’re strange adults.” Present Mic said cheerfully, not missing a beat. He nudged the plate towards Hitoshi with no subtlety whatsoever. “Make sure you eat more and rehydrate before you shower.” He said and Hitoshi took another slice, tilting his head curiously. “Otherwise you might pass out. Of course, no one in this room would ever do that-,” The voice hero said in a sing-songy voice and Hitoshi let out a laugh. 

Present Mic gestured for Hitoshi to sit at the counter, so he did, hopping up into the chair and chugging half the glass of water. 

“So, little listener. You mentioned foster parents. Any siblings?” The hero asked. Hitoshi wiped his mouth and nodded. 

“Yeah. They’re mostly younger than me though and we got placed at different times so we’re not very close. I’ve only been in this house for about a year now.” Hitoshi explained. 

“How many?” Present Mic asked.

“Six.” Hitoshi said. “Seven including my foster parents’ biological child.” Present Mic closed his mouth for a moment and Hitoshi stilled. He couldn’t tell if he had said something wrong or not. 

“That sounds loud. And that’s coming from me!” The voice hero added. “All younger? How much?”

“The biological son is two years older.” Hitoshi said, relaxing a little. “But the others are mostly from about eight to ten. There’s one sixteen year old.”

“Do you get along?” Present Mic wanted to know. Hitoshi shrugged.

“I don’t know a lot of the younger kids.” He admitted. “They move in and out a lot. A lot of them have parents that have been ruled unfit so they go back and forth on custody. We don’t have any problems, I really just don’t see them. I’ve been in some group homes with the sixteen year old, Hirano, but we don’t really get along because-, He paused. 

“Because?” Aizawa prompted. 

“Well, when she was younger, she would antagonize me. A lot.” Hitoshi said. There was more to the story, but he didn’t really need to dive into that. Her Quirk was like a wasp or a bee sting but about ten times stronger. It didn’t leave a rash or a bruise or really a mark at all but it did cause incredible pain. At first, sudden, stinging pain, that faded to constant throbbing and occasional, lesser stinging. The surface of the skin she touched would be sensitive too. “It mostly just happened in group homes when we were in middle school. She’s grown out of it. She was just trying to get rid of me so she could get attention from the woman in charge of us.”

Hirano’s case was common. She had a relatively normal life until she got her Quirk and promptly lost control of it, leaving her parents completely incapable of touching her. Now that she was older she could control when she stung people, but not at four years old. A single brush of skin was agonizing and Hitoshi could guess that four year old Hirano didn’t understand why her parents suddenly refused to touch her. After some struggling with no end in sight, they decided she wasn’t worth the trouble and just….abandoned her.

It happened more often than people thought, especially in cases like hers. Cases where the Quirk was a total mutation from that of their parents. 

Still, she kept fucking stinging him.

“Get rid of you?” Present Mic asked, furrowing his brow. Hitoshi just shrugged.

“My Quirk is ranked as life-threatening so recorded incidents of intentional Quirk usage can send me to juvenile detention with very little warning.” He explained. The scale ranged from life-threatening to harmless, with five categories of risk. Hitoshi wouldn’t be surprised if UA didn’t have that specific information. It was only used within the foster care system and was not supposed to influence outside institutions, only provide risk information for foster parents. Hitoshi would guess it was some kind of legal thing, but he didn’t know for sure. 

Present Mic frowned deeply. Hitoshi glanced over to get a good look at his teacher. Aizawa had crossed his arms over his chest, also dissatisfied, but not surprised.

“I knew the foster system had their own internal Quirk ranking,” He said. “But I didn’t realize the difference in treatment between categories.” Hitoshi just shrugged again. He did already have an incident of Quirk usage on his record from when he was 8, but he wasn’t going to get into that with them. They could probably read about it anyways and if they hadn’t, it didn’t fall to Hitoshi to drag his own name through the mud to two teachers he actually liked and looked up to.  

He didn’t even bother to get into the complete lack of good will his Quirk earned him. Adults, caretakers, foster parents, even his social worker all scared of what he would do if he opened his mouth. Not to mention he was an easy scapegoat for every child who got caught doing something they weren’t supposed to. Shinso made me do it was like a get-out-of-jail free card. The stories always fell apart under scrutiny and rarely made it into his file but there was always a moment when it happened where he knew everyone believed he’d done it.

“Anyways, Hirano and I get along okay now. The score was settled. We just don’t talk much.” Aizawa raised an eyebrow.

“Elaborate on ‘settled’.”

“I put Nair in her shampoo once and she went bald.” Hitoshi said. “I seriously thought she was going to kill me after that.” He snorted to himself before descending into a fit of laughter. “She stung me in the face and I went blind in one eye for a day but that was pretty much that.” He couldn’t help but laugh, covering his mouth to try and stop himself. The story was funny now , or at least Hitoshi thought so.

“Stung?” Present Mic blurted out, eyes wide. Hitoshi just waved a hand, his snickering subsiding.

“Her Quirk is called Wasp Sting.” He said. “It’s exactly what it sounds like. It doesn’t do damage or leave any marks, it just hurts.” He paused. “I mean, it’s kind of funny. Or at least I think so. Y’know. Sibling stuff.” He wasn’t particularly close with any of his foster siblings, or at least not in any way that lasted until UA. But he knew what it was like to battle it out with another child close to his age simply because they were there and also being annoying. 

There was a pause.

“How old were you?” The voice hero asked, enthusiasm having wavered. 

“Like, 9 or something.” Hitoshi said. “It’s really nothing. Kids get into fights all the time in foster care, especially in group homes. One time, two kids took out a load-bearing wall and we had to evacuate for two days. I’m pretty sure they were fighting over tater tots.” He had darker stories than that but he was trying to reassure them, not scare them. 

It seemed to work, Present Mic visibly relaxing and returning to chopping the vegetables in front of him. Hitoshi glanced back at Aizawa. His teacher’s face was unreadable, but that wasn’t anything new. Hitoshi smiled crookedly at him and he watched his teacher’s eyes flick to the plate on the counter and back to Hitoshi. 

“Make sure you eat your apple slices.”

“Yes, Mom. ” Hitoshi said mockingly, dipping one in peanut butter. Aizawa huffed but Hitoshi saw a flicker of amusement on his face as he ambled over to the counter. He reached out and patted Hitoshi on his tuft of lavender hair. Hitoshi screwed his eyes upwards to see the hand carding through his hair, while Aizawa took a slice off the plate and popped it in his mouth. 

Chapter Text

The first night out was emergency response, which Hitoshi was nervous about. Aizawa had drilled him on triage and basic first aid. Which Hitoshi had already figured was likely pretty central to hero work, but his teacher had even let it slip that rescue operations typically played some role in the provisional licensing exam. It wasn’t secret information; after all, the Hero Commission stated on the provisional licensing exam information page of their website a variety of things that were evaluated during the exam itself. Rescue operations and emergency response was one of the things they explicitly stated may be tested from year to year even if they didn’t state how. 

Still, Hitoshi liked to think Aizawa favored him and was feeding him the good information. Not like the paltry party line the rest of class 1-A got.

So here they were, arriving at the police station in full hero costume. Aizawa strode in without a moment of hesitation. Hitoshi followed closely at his heels, trying not to look as wide-eyed and dumb as he felt. He had gotten so used to seeing Aizawa in his simple, black hero uniform but he felt uncomfortable in his own. It wasn’t like he was wearing anything flashy, he just wasn’t used to it. It was deeply jarring, to be honest, despite the simple nature of it. It was just a pair of good boots, the same kind of black, tactical pants that his teacher wore, and a black tactical shirt. He had some light body armor along his chest and back, with light arm guards and fingerless gloves with padding around the knuckles. The body armor was stab proof, burn proof, and capable of absorbing a certain level of impact before he would feel it. There was a utility belt slung around his waist with a few first aid items, but nothing much filled it right now. He did have two escrima sticks tucked in his belt since Aizawa had been training him with those and he could use them reasonably well. He didn’t have the capture weapon, since he still wasn’t quite skilled enough with it for it to be helpful instead of a hindrance, but he did have a black mask settled around his neck that he would pull up over his mouth and nose. 

They had essentially decided that on short notice, covering his mouth when he spoke would help his Quirk be more effective. It added to the disorientation, if the target of his Quirk couldn’t quite figure out where the voice came from and made it more likely they would respond. It was a short-term solution, but it had Hitoshi thinking a lot about what more he could do.

Hitoshi followed Aizawa up towards the front desk, scampering behind him. Before they got there, his teacher paused, twisted, and said quietly,

“No remarks.” Hitoshi just binked back at him, furrowing his forehead.

“About what?” He wanted to know, but his teacher just shook his head and sighed. He continued onwards, Hitoshi wandering after him. He knew he could be a smartass, but it’s not like he was about to start insulting the people Aizawa worked with. 

He glanced around, trying to figure out what exactly Aizawa thought Hitoshi was going to start making cracks about as they walked towards the front desk-,

“ Cat. ” He breathed out, as they came to a halt. 

Aizawa’s head whipped around. Hitoshi clamped a hand over his mouth. 

The officer at the front desk had a cat head.

A cat head .

He had little triangle ears that twitched lightly. A button nose. Whiskers . 

Fuzzy cheeks .

Hitoshi knew he was staring. He couldn’t help it. It was a cat. There was a cat for a police officer. A police officer for a cat. Working the front desk. Filing paperwork.

The officer lifted a hand-, a paw! -, and waved.

“Good to see you, Eraserhead.” He greeted Aizawa. The cat-man tilted so he could get a good luck at Hitoshi who was practically behind his teacher. “And who do we have here?” Aizawa’s hand shot behind him, grabbing Hitoshi’s head like a claw machine and steering him towards the front desk.

“Uh, hi.” Hitoshi said, hoping his eyes weren’t as wide as they felt. “I’m his intern for the week.” The officer blinked at him, idly licking his paw and grooming his face fur. 

Hitoshi was practically vibrating with the urge to say something. He could feel Aizawa’s misery next to him. 

“Oh!” The cat said suddenly. “You’re from the Sports Festival. Congratulations!” He said cheerfully. “I was rooting for you. I haven’t watched the first years in so long, but I had to when I heard a General Studies student was demolishing the competition.” 

“Oh.” Hitoshi said. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

“I’m Officer Tamakawa, by the way, and I’ll be dispatching you tonight when necessary.” The cat said. “My Quirk is Cat.” He explained. 

No elaboration on that whatsoever.

“Uh huh.” Hitoshi said. Tamakawa held out a fuzzy paw to shake. Hitoshi took it.

Toe beans.

Aizawa must have sensed that Hitoshi had reached his limit, because he stepped forward and took control of the conversation.

“He’ll be going by Mind Jack.” Aizawa said. The cat nodded, taking a note.

“One word or two?” 

“Two.” Aizawa decided for him, as Hitoshi’s eyes visibly tracked the twitch of the cat’s fuzzy triangle ears. “I’ll be overseeing his actions and I’ll keep him out of the way if necessary.” The cat nodded back firmly. 

“We don’t have any active calls right now, but I’m sure we will soon.” He said. “The regular conference room is open, in the meantime.” Aizawa dipped his head in acknowledgement. “I’ve never seen you with an intern, Eraserhead. I expect you’ll become a great hero.” Tamakawa directed the last statement towards Hitoshi, with a smile. 

“He will.” Aizawa said, and Hitoshi caught a little he better in his tone. Hitoshi grinned back.

Before long, Aizawa walked him into the conference room, a folder full of case files in his hand. His teacher set his things onto the table, including the coffee he had gotten from a shitty little machine outside. He beckoned Hitoshi further in, before he walked over and closed the door deliberately. Hitoshi turned to his teacher, who was leaning against that closed door, arms crossed over his chest. He seemed to be debating something internally, tilting his head back and forth.

“Alright.” He said, finally. “Go ahead.”

Hitoshi burst.

“ His Quirk is CAT!”  

XXXX

Hitoshi didn’t know how to help.

The first call they had been taken out on was a man with a strength Quirk who was chasing down his girlfriend and her friend who had tried to drive off. He had gotten in front of the car as she drove away and hit it so hard that as she careened away, trying to avoid him, it flipped.

He had been giving the police trouble, drunk and belligerent and ripping off the doors and flinging them at him. 

Hitoshi watched Aizawa step out of the police car, take a good look at the man, and activate his Quirk. The guy had been holding up a car door and his body buckled, falling sideways as the metal crashed into the ground. The police tazed him, slapped some Quirk-suppressing cuffs on him, and that was that.

“That was...simple.” Hitoshi said, as he followed his teacher towards the cops on the scene. 

“There’s no point in engaging in a fight when you don’t need to. Your responsibility is to minimize the damage to everyone and everything involved.” Aizawa explained, pulling up his goggles anyways. Paramedics hustled past them towards the car, hauling some kind of equipment towards the overturned car. Police were already surrounding it.

With the villain taken care of so quickly, there was no one to fight. No one to use his Quirk on. It was just...over. Now it was about trying to save the lives of those two women but unless Hitoshi suddenly gained the skill to slice through metal and free them from the warped car, he didn’t know how he would help with that. 

As Aizawa approached, one officer turned to him, hands on his hips.

“Thanks, Eraserhead.” He said. “Like the way you take care of things.”

“No problem.” Aizawa replied easily. “Anything we can do to help?” Hitoshi glanced at the paramedics using some kind of hydraulic machine to cut through the metal. Hitoshi could hear the panicked screaming from inside, a chill going down his spine. 

“We’re just trying to get them out right now. One of them is unconscious but the other keeps trying to pull herself out.” The officer said. He eyed Hitoshi carefully. “The kid got anything that can help?”

“Maybe.” Aizawa said. He looked at Hitoshi carefully, no judgement in his eyes. A shriek pierced the air and Hitoshi winced.

“ Get me out! Get me out, please!” Hitoshi could hear the paramedics trying to calm her, begging her to stop moving. Saying that she could hurt herself, that they couldn’t get her out until she calmed down. 

“Yes.” Hitoshi said. “I can calm her down and get her to stop moving.” 

The officer raised an eyebrow, looking him up and down. 

“You sure? You’re dressed like a combat specialist.”

“He can do it.” Aizawa said before Hitoshi could. “I’ll be keeping an eye on him, too.” The cop shrugged.

“Alright then.”

They led Hitoshi over to the passenger side of the car. The woman was stuck, upside down, her legs trapped between the dashboard and the ground. She was squirming, sobbing as she did. There wasn’t as much space as there had been before and she was banging against the ground with her arms, contorted in the smaller space. Blood ran down her face, though it seemed like no one could really tell exactly where she was injured and she wasn’t capable of doing it either. 

Hitoshi crouched down, peering in through the window so that he was face to face with her. His stomach clenched, heart pounding in his ears. She was just so scared . A man had grabbed the front of their car and basically flipped it. Had ripped off the doors, trying to hurt them or kill them. And here she was.

Trapped. 

It took her a moment but when she saw him, someone much younger than all the others there, her sobbing slowed a little.

“Y-you’re a heroics student.” She choked out. “Am I gonna get out of here?”

Hitoshi didn’t think he was qualified to be answering that question, but he answered it anyways. 

“Yeah. You will.” He promised, and his voice shook on the first word, but he steeled his tone. He looked up at Aizawa, who was standing off to the side, watching the situation carefully. 

“I’m authorizing you to use your Quirk under my supervision.” Aizawa said, making sure his tone was clear and even. Hitoshi nodded back, and ducked back down.

“What’s your name?” He asked.

“Haruka Kaori.” She said, voice trembling and Hitoshi took control. Her eyes went blank, sobs subsiding. 

“Take slow, deep breaths.” He instructed, and she followed his instructions silently. After a few breaths, the rattling sound left over from her crying had disappeared. Just quiet, steady breathing. 

“Holy shit .” Someone said behind him. Hitoshi looked in through the window, catching a glimpse of the other woman.

“Did you say the other woman was unconscious?” He asked, glancing back at the first responders behind him.

“Yes.” One of the paramedics said. “We couldn’t get them out until she calmed down. We were afraid she was going to get hurt.”

“She’s not unconscious.” Hitoshi said. “She’s dead.” 

Aizawa stilled. 

“We’ve been monitoring her heartbeat.” One of the paramedics said. “She’s alive. We intubated her, but she’s alive.”

Hitoshi didn’t know why exactly he thought she was dead. He just...couldn’t feel her, like he could everyone else. He should have felt two people, and instead he only felt one. It should have put him off more than it was, but as long as he had a task at hand, a mind connected to his own, he felt weirdly calm. He was focused on helping Haruka. He could do that. He had to do that. 

“She has a head injury, right?” Aizawa asked quietly. One of the paramedics nodded. “Do you have any way to check her brain activity?”

“We have a mobile unit, but we don’t usually-,”

“Do it.” Aizawa instructed them. They looked to the police officer they had spoken to earlier, who nodded. “Mind Jack, is there any way you can check Haruka for injuries?”

“I can try.” Hitoshi said, bending back down. “Where do you feel pain?” He asked her and he felt a twinge of pain behind his eyes. She didn’t respond. 

They had discovered this week that he could get an answer from someone under his Quirk, but this was too broad, he was guessing. After a lot of work, he had Present Mic speaking. Just yes or no, maybe a nod or a shake, but he had found that having used his Quirk on him several times made it easier. He could get more fluid movements out of him, more complicated commands.

“Nod for yes, shake your head for no.” He said. “Are you Haruka Kaori?” 

She nodded.

“Can you move your arms?”

Nod.

“Can you move your legs?”

Nothing. 

Hitoshi paused.

“Can you move your right leg?”

A nod.

“Can you move your left leg?

A shake.

Hitoshi turned back to the people behind him, blinking.

“Her left leg is injured and she can’t move it.” He said. “Does that help?”

“Can you see it?” One of the police officers asked and Hitoshi peered in again. He thought he could see some blood near her left leg where it met the dashboard but that was about it. 

“Not from this angle.” He said. One of the paramedics crouched down next to him, looking back and forth from him, to the car. Hitoshi had a funny feeling about what was about to happen. 

“Can you fit in there and approach from behind the seat?” The paramedic asked.

“Absolutely not.” Aizawa said. 

“I think I could fit.” Hitoshi said. He was smaller than the rest of them, even if he was tall for his age. They were burlier and while Hitoshi had put on some muscle, he could worm his way in no problem. “I can do it.” He glanced back at Aizawa, whose jaw was set. His eyes burned into Hitoshi. “I’ll just take a look, in and out.” He promised.

“All the hydraulics are on standby.” The paramedic said. “We aren’t going to start cutting while he’s in there.” 

“It’ll be fine.” Hitoshi said. “I think.” 

Aizawa massaged the bridge of his nose.

“Fine.” He said. “If you feel unsafe, come out immediately.” 

“Got it.” Hitoshi said, even though he absolutely would not be doing that. He was near freaking out, he thought. But not yet. 

One of the paramedics handed him a set of thick gloves, so he could crawl across the ceiling of the car without cutting his hands on all the broken glass. He glanced at the shattered back seat window, while one of the cops used his baton to knock any big shards out of the way. He took a deep breath before he crawled in slowly, feeling eyes boring into him. It was much darker inside than he was expecting, even with all the windows shattered. He could still see, of course, making out the big shapes, but it was less than ideal.

“Could I get a-,” Before he could finish, a flashlight shined in. Hitoshi glanced out to see Aizawa crouching down by the window, shining the light on him. “Thanks.” He said, swallowing heavily. He crawled towards the front, coming up on the left side of Haruka. She was still breathing evenly, but as the light followed him he could see blood. A lot more of it than there was before. Dripping down her left leg, smeared all over the dashboard. He hadn’t been able to see it before but there was tons of it.

“She’s bleeding a lot from her left leg.” Hitoshi said. 

“Can you check her leg with your hands? Try and slip it under the dashboard?” Someone asked and Hitoshi dutifully followed. He put his hand against her thigh, right above the knee and tried to feel out the flesh with his fingers when-,

Nothing. 

He couldn’t feel anything below that point on that side. 

“There’s no-,” He said. “I don’t think her leg is still connected.” He stammered out. One of the paramedics had taken the flashlight from Aizawa and was crouching in the passenger window. 

“Check the other side.” The paramedic said, and then, like an afterthought, said, “You’re doing great. You really are.”

Hitoshi reached down her leg, sliding his hand against her knee. He couldn’t feel anything on that side either. 

“Nothing.” He said. 

“Can you apply a tourniquet from that position?” The paramedic asked and Hitoshi heard a sharp intake of breath from Aizawa but Hitoshi beat him to the punch. 

“Yes.” He said. He could help her. He really could. 

After a moment, the paramedic slipped a black strap of some kind with a bar and some kind of plate attached to it. He turned it over in his hands, looking at it under the flashlight. He didn’t quite know how to work it, but he got the general idea of a tourniquet. Tie tightly and secure. He guessed that everything else attached to it was just to help with that.

“I’ll talk you through it.” The paramedic said. 

It took a few minutes for Hitoshi to get it right, tightened appropriately. But once he did, he scooted back, moving his hands so the paramedic could inspect it.

“It looks good.” The paramedic said. “By the way, you’re right. We’re not finding any brain activity for the other victim. She’s most likely brain dead.”
And just like that, Hitoshi realized where he was. Sitting in the shattered, overturned car. Hands slick with blood. One woman, upside down, breathing slowly, glassy-eyed and under the control of his Quirk. On his other side, a corpse that just didn’t know it yet.

He felt heat bubble up through his chest, into his throat, up to his head. 

“I’m coming out now.” He said, and for a moment he saw the paramedics brow furrow but a hand grabbed the paramedic by the back of the uniform and then Aizawa was holding the flashlight, guiding him out. He crawled out carefully, Aizawa pulling him to his feet once he was out of the car. He stripped the gloves off his hands with a surprising urgency, just no longer able to stand the sight of blood.

“You good, kid?” The officer from before asked.

“Yeah.” Hitoshi said, and it sounded breathy even to him. The officer raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

“I’m going to take him to the side. He can hold her under his Quirk until you get her out.” Aizawa said, tone sounding final. There was no dispute from the cop, only a paramedic who asked if Aizawa was sure because Hitoshi had ‘good hands’, but Aizawa quite literally grabbed Hitoshi and pulled him away down the street, just out of the throng of people and away from all the noise. 

Hitoshi leaned against the wall behind him. 

“Take a deep breath.” Aizawa said, and Hitoshi realized just how quickly he was breathing. He followed the instruction. 

“Sorry.” Hitoshi said, voice thick. 

“There’s no reason to apologize.” Aizawa said. “They forget your age.”

“I said I could handle it.” Hitoshi said. “I insisted.” His vision was just a little blurry, he realized, but it was getting better.

“I get the sense you don’t always know what’s best for you.” Aizawa said, glancing to the side, his hand on Hitoshi’s shoulder. 

Chapter Text

It wasn’t until they were in the car, on their way to the next emergency response that Hitoshi realized something. 

Aizawa was pissed off .

He hadn’t been able to tell at the time, too wrapped up with how fast his own heart was beating that he only really began to understand it later. The man was more curt than usual and he had not even bothered to remove his goggles. A quiet, seething anger that followed them throughout the night. There were some robberies, an attempted break-in, a bar fight that got violent, but nothing too crazy for the rest of the night. Hitoshi got into a little tussle with one of the attempted robbers who tried to pull a knife, but it was easy enough to knock it out of his drunken hand and let the police handcuff him. Another tried to hold a woman hostage. Aizawa had reached over and pulled one of the escrima rods from Hitoshi’s belt and nailed the robber in the head with it, knocking him out cold in one hit. Hitoshi did get smacked as they tried to break up the bar fight, but Aizawa stopped the guy’s Quirk in his tracks and it took Hitoshi all of two seconds to knock the guy off his feet. The man was drunk, only focused on choking the daylights out of the other guy, and at this point, Hitoshi had been in enough fights to take the upper hand. 

He didn’t use his Quirk again that night, though he expected that it was purposeful on Aizawa’s part. They spent the rest of the night just putting out little fires, until the shift was over and Aizawa took them back to his house. Hitoshi sensed there was some paperwork involved, but his teacher sent him directly to the shower instead and Hitoshi was a little too exhausted to argue. 

When Hitoshi had scoured that night off his body, taking extra care to scrub his hands to an unnecessary point, he put on some old clothes and wandered back out to the common area. He needed to get some water, but he had a feeling too that Aizawa was going to be there, waiting for him. 

And he was.

He hadn’t changed yet, but was sitting at the counter and writing some notes. He had two glasses of water out, one in front of him and one next to him, where an empty chair was. Hitoshi assumed that was for him. 

The man’s shoulders were still up near his ears, so Hitoshi took the seat somewhat hesitantly, taking a sip of the water.

“Are you angry at me?” Hitoshi asked, and his voice was smaller than he was expecting. 

“No.” Aizawa said. “Make sure you drink all of that.” He scribbled for a moment longer as Hitoshi sipped quietly. Eventually, he set down his pen, and looked up at Hitoshi, goggles finally removed. “I put you in a position that I shouldn’t have. I should not have let you climb into that car.”

“It’s fine. I’m the one who insisted I could do it.” Hitoshi echoed himself from earlier, but Aizawa wasn’t having it. 

“I’m responsible for your health and well-being this week.” He snapped, before he took a deep breath and straightened up. “It was my duty to set limits, with you and the officers and paramedics there. It was inappropriate for them to ask you to do so much. It was even more inappropriate for them to inform you of a woman’s death while you were in the car next to her like you won something for being right.” Aizawa nudged the water towards him again. Hitoshi obliged and took another sip. “That’s why I’m angry.” 

“Oh.” Hitoshi said. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Aizawa said. “You probably saved that woman’s life. It just shouldn’t have been on you like that, not quite yet.” Hitoshi shrugged.

“I mean, I’m part of infamous class 1-A yet, right?” He joked. “Had to happen some time.”

Aizawa’s head snapped towards him and Hitoshi did his best not to flinch. He couldn’t read the look on his face at all, but he still looked angry . It shifted to something else rapidly.

“Thought I could protect you for a while longer.” Aizawa muttered and it was like his entire person slumped .

Huh.

Guess a class full of 15 year olds nearly gets massacred and it kind of sticks with you .

“Noble effort.” Hitoshi said. “But I’ve kinda had to do most of that myself for a long time now.” He leaned his arm against the counter. “I have what I would call a ‘nuclear option’ in my back pocket.”

Aizawa sighed. 

“That’s not a way to live.” Hitoshi shrugged again. 

“I’ve been thinking about some things I could do to make my Quirk more effective.” He said, changing the topic. “An idea for a support item. I can’t use electronic means, but something acoustic could make my voice louder.” Aizawa’s eyes slid over to him carefully, perking up a little at the new topic. 

“That could be done.” He said. “Something you can wear?” Hitoshi nodded. 

“And something else too. I was thinking about, well…” He shrugged. “Voice imitation.”

Aizawa raised an eyebrow. 

“It’s something I’ve always been good at.” Hitoshi admitted. “But I can only imitate voices I know well. Something that can help me do it faster.”

“You can imitate voices you know well?” Aizawa asked. “How well?” Hitoshi took a deep breath and cleared his throat. He thought back to when he had practiced this to himself, thinking about future class exercises at the time. 

“ Exactly what it fucking means .” He said, in Bakugo’s voice. He watched Aizawa jolt, before his mouth twitched in a smile. “ High-pitched ones are harder, kero , but ,” The smile turned to a full blown grin. “ It seemed logical to practice. ” 

Aizawa let out a laugh at his own voice. Hitoshi cleared his throat and rubbed at his jaw. 

“You are good at imitations.” Aizawa said. “We’ll talk to Power Loader about it. I’m sure he can do something.” He paused. “This is good.” He said. “ Really good. It’s creative and unexpected, but perfect for you.”

“Uh, thanks.” Hitoshi said, rubbing the back of his neck. Aizawa looked at him carefully, and Hitoshi watched his eyes go to his clothes. Old and worn, a pair of sweatpants with ragged ends of cloth by the feet. A t-shirt he had already worn this week, stretched, with holes by the neck. Whatever was on it, was faded beyond ability to read. 

“You’ve worn that before.” Aizawa said. 

“Yeah?” Hitoshi didn’t think that in itself was weird. 

“Because it’s all you brought or all you have?” He asked, and Hitoshi let out a huff that probably answered Aizawa’s question.

“Well, I normally wear my uniform and I obviously didn’t bring any of that.” Hitoshi said, crossing his arms over his chest, feeling a little annoyed. “Other than school clothes, yeah. That’s pretty much what I have.” 

“Have your foster parents replaced anything?” Aizawa asked and Hitoshi rolled his eyes. “They’re supposed to.” Aizawa countered. “They receive money to do so.”

“Give up on that one.” Hitoshi said. “They’ll replace it if the cost of doing laundry exceeds the cost of buying a new one. That’s it.”

“It’s not supposed to be like that.” Aizawa said. 

“But it’s how it is.” Hitoshi responded. “It would probably be like this no matter what home I was in. Don’t worry about it. You’ll only have to see me in my uniform after this week.”

“That’s not-,” Aizawa turned his entire body. “That’s not the point. It’s not about what I see . You should have clothes less than five years old. How much have you grown since you first got this shirt?”

Honestly? Probably about a foot. It had swamped him when it was given to him and now fit him almost normally. It was just so old it was basically falling apart. 

“That’s not important.” Hitoshi muttered. 

“It is .” Aizawa said.

“I age out in three years.” Hitoshi said. “I don’t plan on rocking the boat before then. This is the house I have to live in. What if I get sent somewhere too far away to go to UA? I don’t love my foster parents but it’s food and water and a roof over my head and that’s not guaranteed for me, alright?” He realized he had snapped at his teacher, and he took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. But no offense, it’s my life on the line, not yours.” 

Aizawa stared back at him for a moment. Hitoshi held his breath, resisting the urge to fidget nervously. He could tell Aizawa had been picking at this particular issue all week, no matter how many awkward subject changes there were. But Hitoshi wasn’t going to back down. He was right, on this one. 

“I’m sorry.” The unexpected apology left his teacher’s mouth as Aizawa dipped his head apologetically. “I just want to make sure you’re living somewhere safe, but you’re right. It’s your life and your future on the line. And you don’t have the trust and good will that you should, through no fault of your own, which puts your future at even greater risk.”

Hitoshi let out a breath, relaxing. So Aizawa got it.

“I am safe.” Hitoshi said. “There are obviously things that are unpleasant. But that’s life. I can’t make people trust me or like me, no matter how much some people seem to think I can.”  

It was quiet, and briefly, Hitoshi regretted killing the mood so abruptly. But this was also his life . He knew it better than anyone. And if Aizawa thought he could get Hitoshi to confess to a few things and then snap his fingers and make everything better, then Hitoshi had to make it clear just how this all worked. 

“If you ever aren’t, tell me.” Aizawa said. “I will do everything in my power to protect you.” Hitoshi just stared at him.

You can’t.

No one would take him. Where he would go after that house could and and probably would be much worse. There were never consequences for any of these people. Because it was him.

Kids in foster care didn’t get heard. The whole system was resistant to change, with the parents earning for more trust than they should by simply being adults with a license and the kids far less than they should for any number of reasons. Incarcerated parents. Troubled childhoods. Quirk usage. Simply being born with the wrong Quirk.

No one wanted to believe him, because it was him . Because he had the troubled childhood, because he had slipped up while using his Quirk when he was little. Because his Quirk was Brainwashing . And he truly did understand what the stakes were. His Quirk was life-threatening. It was violating on the deepest level. It barely mattered what precautions people took, short of removing his ability to speak or make any noise. If Hitoshi wanted to use his Quirk to make people hurt themselves or make people do whatever he wanted, he could. That was the simple truth. 

Yet, he had to make himself believe he didn’t deserve to be treated like a monster. It was easy to forget that and just resign himself to it. He walked a fine line, balancing the necessary realization that this is what his life was like and he had to accept it and deal with it just to survive, while also trying to believe he wasn’t fundamentally deserving of it. Because he had to believe that, or all this would be for nothing. 

“I can protect myself.” Hitoshi echoed from earlier. “I’ve gotten sorta good at it, even.”

“Kid.” Aizawa said, and his teacher was once again looking at him oddly. “Let me worry about that instead.”

Hitoshi bit his tongue and didn’t tell him how much he couldn’t do that.

XXXX

“I don’t cook much.” His teacher admitted, examining the blackened rock he’d pulled out of the toaster. He was holding it in a pair of tongs, turning it over. Hitoshi could swear one side was glowing like an ember.

“Oh, really?” Hitoshi asked, feigning ignorance. “I would never have known.” He was playing with Coconut on the floor, the feline sprawled out on his back and trying to bat at the little bird toy Hitoshi was teasing him with. 

“I bring you to my house.” Aizawa said flatly, gesturing with the tongs at Hitoshi. His tone did not at all indicate he was teasing him, but it made Hitoshi grin all the same at his teacher’s attempt at humor. “I let you play with my cats.” 

Hitoshi hauled Coconut into the air, cradling him against his shoulder. The little guy was mostly white with slightly tan fur radiating out from his face. The cat immediately started purring, settling his tiny little head against Hitoshi’s shoulder.

“Your cats fall in love with me. I learn your capture weapon. I find the deed to your home. And then I marry your husband.” Hitoshi said. “I steal your life.” Aizawa watched, clearly amused, as Hitoshi bounced the cat like a baby.

“You did win the Sports Festival as a General Studies student.” His teacher said. 

Hitoshi paused.

“I’m not gonna lie, I forgot about that a little bit.” His teacher took a moment to process his words, and then nodded firmly.

“I understand.”

It was so serious, Hitoshi couldn’t help it. He let out a piercing laugh, throwing his head back as he did. Coconut startled in his arms a little, but after scratching behind his ears, the feline settled back down. 

“You still need to eat breakfast,” Aizawa said aloud, mulling his options over. It was more like brunch, but Hitoshi would take it. There was a pause. “I’m going to get pastries.” Aizawa declared. 

“Hardly seems like a balanced meal.” Hitoshi said wryly. 

“I factored pastries into your meal plan already.” Aizawa said, and Hitoshi could not tell if he was joking. 

“Ah, the pastry budget.” Hitoshi said. “How could I forget?”

“A croissant has at least some nutritional value.” His teacher said, and Hitoshi watched him slip and crack a grin, before trying to make his face serious again. His teacher pulled on his jacket. “There’s a cafe down the street.” He explained, gathering up his keys from the counter. “Are you coming with?” 

Hitoshi glanced down at his sweatpants and the sweatshirt he had pulled on over his pajamas. 

“I’m in my pajamas.” Hitoshi said. Aizawa shrugged.

“I don’t care.”

Hitoshi guessed that this was the teacher who slept on the floor in front of him regularly, not any kind of foster parent. But for a brief moment, Hitoshi felt a flash of surprise, used to demands not to embarrass them in public, put on a real pair of pants, be quiet- ,

“Okay, then.” Hitoshi said, setting Coconut on the couch gently. The slouch flipped onto his back, laying dramatically against the pillow and staring up at Hitoshi with wide eyes. The cat meowed at him, and Hitoshi broke, reaching down to rub the exposed belly and scratch the little cat cheek presented to him. 

They walked down the street to the cafe, ran by a chatty older woman who was undeterred by Aizawa’s quiet nature. Aizawa ordered about half a dozen pastries, probably saving some for Present Mic later, and two coffees. The older woman paused after putting six in the box before glancing at Hitoshi and popping in two more. 

Aizawa raised an eyebrow at her.

“It’s on the house. Your son is too skinny.” She complained, gesturing at Hitoshi with a pair of tongs. “He’s a growing boy. He needs to eat more.” 

Hitoshi stifled a laugh.

“Duly noted.” His teacher said dryly and Hitoshi did notice that Aizawa hadn’t corrected her. He guessed it didn’t really matter what she assumed, such an idea being harmless. Not to mention it was a far more reasonable idea that this random man and the tired-looking teenage boy with him were father and son, rather than hobo hero and the transfer student living with him for a week.

Still.

Hitoshi noticed it. 

When they were finally at the apartment, settled at the small table, Aizawa passed him a ham and cheese croissant. Hitoshi assumed it would be good, so he kept a neutral face as he bit into it.

He knew his face was not neutral. 

It was just so buttery and warm . 

His eyes must have been wide, because Aizawa looked at him, mouth twitching in amusement.

“Good?” He asked, almost teasing Hitoshi. 

Hitoshi would have rolled his eyes but it was good. It was amazing , even. He swallowed what was in his mouth and confessed.

“I’ve never had a croissant before.” He revealed, and Aizawa blinked at him. 

“Ah. So this is a critical discovery.” 

Hitoshi revealed a secret and the man was fucking teasing him.

“I know what a croissant is!” Hitoshi squawked indignantly. “I’ve seen them! I’ve smelled them! I’ve just never had one!” Aizawa glanced away pointedly, shoulders shaking with laughter.  “I don’t live under a rock!” Hitoshi continued. “I don’t eat a lot of pastries but I have two eyes and two legs to take me to a coffee shop and view croissants if I so please!” 

An actual, guttural laugh came out of Aizawa at Hitoshi’s words, his teacher just shaking his head. 

Chapter Text

They had decided to go to Hosu.

It wasn’t to chase the Hero Killer; in fact, it was quite the opposite. With much of the police force and local heroes focused on catching the Hero Killer, they needed someone to pick up the slack on more run-of-the-mill crime. The grunt work. Exactly the kind of thing that Aizawa embraced. 

Of course, Aizawa had no idea that there was going to be a Nomu attack that night, one that nearly knocked their car off the road and then all of a sudden the city was in flames. Hitoshi spent the first thirty minutes firmly at Aizawa’s heels, obeying his instructions perfectly. When Aizawa said duck, he ducked. When Aizawa said wait right here , he waited right there.

Until Aizawa told him that exactly, ran into a half-collapsed building, and then there was a thing coming after him.

It was big and ugly. Muscular, yet gaunt. Its eyes were empty, brain exposed, and it was swinging at him. Hitoshi dodged, trying to avoid its fists as best he could. He didn’t even try to attack it, just tried to survive . There was no way he was strong enough to take it on and the only real weapon he had, his Quirk, he couldn’t use without explicit authorization and supervision from the hero he was interning with. Not to mention that he couldn’t even guarantee it would work on the thing anyways. No guarantee it would respond, no guarantee his Quirk could even affect something no longer human. 

It brought its hand down on the sidewalk as Hitoshi lurched to the side, breathing heavily. It knocked down some street signs and cracked the sidewalk, and Hitoshi nearly fell over as his foot caught the uneven pavement. Instead, he stumbled backwards.

He could actually die.

This twisted thing stood before him, hunched and ugly and Hitoshi realized that there were no heroes to help. No police officers. He had nothing to fight it with. And it was bigger and stronger and badder than anything he had ever faced. He couldn’t even use his Quirk against it, even if he decided to break the rules.

His heart was slamming against his chest so hard he thought he might pass out. 

He would have remained frozen too, simply thinking about how hopeless his situation was, but it screeched . It was high-pitched and ugly like the rest of it and sounded like it could shatter glass.

I don’t want to die . I’m not…

Hitoshi dodged another slow swing. Thankfully, the thing wasn’t too smart.

Just freakishly strong and durable. 

...I’m not ready yet .

There had to be some way out of this. He was smart. He used his head. His Quirk required him to. Brains won over brawn. He could take it. He had to take it.

He had lived a life full of adults trying to break him. And he had felt the urge time and time again to cower and submit. To just give up . It was so hard to be so small and so defenseless and to have the people in your life just not give a shit about you at all. But he had decided that he wasn’t gonna let it happen, that it didn’t matter how much they hated him or hurt him or even if they killed him that he wouldn’t, that he couldn’t let go of himself. It was a decision he had to make for himself.

And he just wasn’t done being himself yet.

So he had to kill this fucking thing. 

He dodged another swing as the creature lurched into some store window, crashing through the glass as momentum carried him onwards. Glass shattered, bursting into the shop and littering the ground outside as Hitoshi weaved behind the Nomu.

The brain was exposed. That had to be a weakness, right? It was a freak of nature made in a lab, but it still needed a brain to run. It was still a living being. If HItoshi could get something sharp and jam it in, he could take it out, right? Or at least slow it down or injure it enough for him to get away. Right now, even as it was slowly extracting itself from the shop window, if he ran, it would catch him. He needed to break it. 

He spied one of the broken signs. It had been ripped from the ground and the top sheared off, leaving only a jagged piece of metal. He grabbed it off the ground, feeling it slip in his sweaty fingers and rolling it into his palm, where his hands were covered by fingerless gloves. He held it tight, maneuvering it in front of him and planting the base by his feet. He lined it up, as the Nomu pulled its head out of the frame. It spun around, jaws snapping, drool dripping, eyes rolling in different directions. It was a beast, that was for sure. A predator set to kill and destroy, following the instructions of some entity long gone. 

And too fucking stupid to know a weapon when it saw one or why it should dodge. 

It lurched forward quickly, fast enough that Hitoshi felt his body shake and the urge to dodge it. But he held fast, he hefted his makeshift spear forward, and he jammed it up at just the right angle as the Nomu tried to descend on him. Its arms even reached out, claws trying to tear him open and Hitoshi even felt one scratch uselessly against the body armor on his chest, its nails skittering away. 

Hitoshi wasn’t strong enough on his own to drive that spear into the Nomu’s flesh, but the Nomu certainly was. And with the way it was lunging at him, trying to rip him apart...well, it did Hitoshi’s job for him. 

The pole went straight into the creature’s mouth, puncturing the roof and driving upwards in an instant with all the speed and strength the creature could gather. Whether it was immune to pain or simply instructed to ignore it, it had moved forward with no hesitation and the spear pierced the creature in an instant.

The jagged tip popped through the top of the Nomu’s head, a wet schlick as it sheared through the soft, squishy brain. It cleaved through it and the wet pieces slid off the pole, splattering onto the ground on either side of the creature’s head. In an instant, the Nomu went from alive and strong and furious to limp .

There was still the force of the momentum of course and Hitoshi had to grit his teeth and brace against it, his hands going numb on the pole. But he held it and those hunched shoulders fell, the creature falling to its knees and arms limply brushing the ground.

The pole held it up surprisingly well, driving through the head and propping the creature into a kneeling position. But it was certainly dead . Blood poured out of the gaping wound, dripping from the mouth and the cleaved flesh, but Hitoshi knew it had died the moment it had driven the pole into its own brain. He had watched the light leave its eyes.

He let go.

The pole was propped at such an angle that between the ground and the Nomu, it stayed in place, being compressed at both ends. Hitoshi stumbled back. His hands weren’t seriously injured, but when he flexed them, he could still barely feel them. Though, he suspected that had more to do with the ways his ears were ringing and vision briefly blurred.

He cleared his throat to no one, bringing his hands to cradle against his chest. He wanted to lay down and sleep for a thousand years but the city was still in absolute chaos. He had to focus.

He shook his head violently and slapped his hands against his cheeks, trying to get his brain focused again. 

“Come on.” He muttered to himself. It’s a monster. It’s just a creature. You saw the way its eyes rolled around. It’s a brainless lab experiment. You survived because you were focused. Focus again. He sucked in a breath, about to nod to himself and go off to find Aizawa and-,

Hands grabbed his wrists abruptly and Hitoshi jolted, letting out a scream- ,

“ Hitoshi .” He stopped struggling.

“Oh.” He said, the concerned, slightly sooty face of his teacher coming into view. Who was he kidding? Very sooty face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scream at the sight of your face.” 

Aizawa’s mouth twitched, before he schooled his expression. Those hands released his wrist and he felt Aizawa checking him over, searching for injuries, before they came up on either side of his face, grasping him gently and brushing his hair away. It felt nice.

“No head injury.” Hitoshi said, realizing what his teacher was looking for. “I just got distracted by...I’ve had to kill some rats before but this one smelled worse.” He said, eyes flicking over to the hulking corpse behind Aizawa. 

“I was calling your name.” Aizawa explained gently. And Hitoshi hadn’t heard or responded.

“Well, it’s loud out here.” Hitoshi reasoned, giving him a crooked grin. Aizawa just sighed, releasing Hitoshi’s face. His hands dropped to his shoulders, holding him steady. “Sorry for wandering off. I was sorta chased.”

“Do you feel any pain at all?” Aizawa asked and Hitoshi shook his head. “I can’t find any injuries.” Aizawa informed him. “Did the Nomu ever hit you?”

“No.” Hitoshi said. “I dodged it, since I’m pretty sure that would have pulverized my bones or something.” His teacher studied him for a moment longer, before nodding to himself and releasing Hitoshi.

“Okay.” He said. “We’re going home.”

“ What? ” Hitoshi said. “No!” Aizawa leveled him with a stern look, but Hitoshi shook his head, breaking out of whatever weird spell he was under and focusing. He was fine. Maybe he would take a boiling hot shower and pass out in his bed later, haunted by those disgusting, rolling eyes of the Nomu, but for now, he was fine. “I’m fine. It was scary, but I handled it and it’s over. This place is in flames and people need help. You don’t end every patrol after you’ve had your first fight of the night, do you?” 

Aizawa stared mutely back at him, and Hitoshi had a thought.

“Are you going easy on me?” He demanded. “Because I’m a transfer?”

“I’m not going easy on you.” His teacher countered, surprisingly calm. “I’m managing expectations. You have less training. I’ve taken that into account. You have no live combat experience. I’ve taken that into account as well. If that had been a human criminal you got into a fight with and emerged unscathed, we would continue patrol. However, that is an engineered monstrosity not unlike one that nearly killed me and massacred your entire class. You have not had a sufficient amount of training in many aspects, let alone a rabid science experiment.” 

“I’ll stick to rescue. I’m probably not gonna get attacked by another Nomu. I’m not injured. I’m not catatonic. I can help. I would tell you if it was too much.” Hitoshi probably wouldn’t, but if he truly thought he was going to lose it, he would remove himself from the situation rather than crash and burn and put a victim of this horrible night in even more danger. “I can do this.” Hitoshi protested.

“Just because you are technically capable doesn’t mean that’s the right decision.” Aizawa countered.

“I just-,” Hitoshi tried to think of the words. “It doesn’t feel right to leave like this! Not when I can help. I can’t just sit by and watch.”

Hitoshi often found Aizawa difficult to read and had said so time and time again. But in that moment, when Aizawa tilted his head and gazed at him, dark eyes glimmering, Hitoshi truly did not know what his teacher was going to say next. 

“Rescue work only .” His teacher said and Hitoshi jolted.

“We’re staying?”

“Don’t leave my side.” Aizawa said sternly. 

Hitoshi resisted the urge to yosh quietly to himself, but instead, grinned back.

XXXX

It didn’t take long for them to get separated again.

They spent the next ten minutes putting out fires, both literally and figuratively. Pulling civilians from dangerous situations and passing them on to the next first responder. They made their way through the city like that, until Hitoshi got a notification on his phone from Midoriya. Nothing much, just a location drop in Hosu. 

But it was weird , right?

“Sensei.” Hitoshi said, showing it to his teacher immediately. Of all places, it was Hosu . Maybe he was in some sort of trouble? Or he was trying to request back up and didn’t have a moment to spare or a way to contact any real heroes. 

Aizawa took his phone in his hand, studying the location carefully. His face didn’t change at all.

“Have you messaged him back?” He asked.

“Yeah.” Hitoshi said. “He didn’t respond.” Though, that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

“We’ll head that way.” Aizawa said. 

They continued onward, eventually running into Endeavor and a few of his sidekicks. The number two hero was just as much of an asshole as Hitoshi remembered, with his ridiculous flaming mustache. Hitoshi idly wondered how much focus it required to keep that dumb thing on his lip up constantly. 

“You just let Todoroki run off into the night?” Hitoshi blurted out, once Endeavor relayed the night’s events to them. Hitoshi was peeking out from behind Aizawa, but when the hero fixed him with a sharp gaze, he took a step forward.

“Shouto is highly advanced in his training. He can protect himself.”

“Yeah and I’ve had no training or experience but I still beat him.” Hitoshi countered immediately, almost startling himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t think Todoroki was strong. He was . It was just supremely stupid of Endeavor to think that meant it was fine to let his fifteen year old son run off, with no idea where he was going. “He’s not invincible.” 

Endeavor was frowning so deeply that he looked like a snapping turtle.

As if to punctuate Hitoshi’s statement, a Nomu came tearing through a building nearby, crashing into the brick wall.

“Then go after him.” Endeavor snapped. “I have bigger concerns here. Eraser-,” He started, gesturing at the hero and Hitoshi knew from the way Aizawa turned to look at the Nomu a block over that he couldn’t let the thing run wild in good conscience.

The two of them turned to look at each other at the same time. 

“You want to go after Todoroki.” Aizawa said.

“Yes.” Hitoshi affirmed, setting his jaw. “I won’t use my Quirk. I swear.”

“Don’t promise me that.” Aizawa said. “If your choice is to use your Quirk or die, I want you to use your Quirk.” Hitoshi blinked, but nodded firmly. “Tell me what your objective is.”

Hitoshi opened his mouth, confused. He thought for a moment.

“To get Todoroki and Midoriya to safety and avoid engaging in any kind of combat.” Hitoshi said, and Aizawa nodded back.

“Send me your location and call me for help. I will come immediately.”

It struck Hitoshi that this was a sign of trust and a big one at that. Here he was, in the ruins of the city under attack, about to run off on his own to go after a friend. No idea what he was about to encounter or what his friends were facing and why no one had answered him, but going after them anyways. Alone.

He didn’t even know what he had done to earn that kind of trust, but he was going to run with it.

XXXX

There was silence as Hitoshi and Todoroki’s eyes met.

Neither of them said anything, Hitoshi simply looking back and forth between the motley crew of people in front of him. Iida, looking like he got run over by a bus and bleeding profusely. Todoroki, face bleeding, supporting the class president as they hobbled from the alley. Midoriya, carrying an injured hero on his back, body still crackling with an unknown energy.

And of course, there was the Hero Killer on the ground, hands tied behind his back.

Hitoshi arched an eyebrow, before holding up his phone and snapping a picture.

“Hey!” Midoriya protested.

“This is going to Aizawa.” Hitoshi informed them without looking up. He sent it, along with ??????? , before he dialed his teacher and held his phone to his ear. Iida’s face twisted into something like shame, hanging his head and opening his mouth to apologize or something. Hitoshi held up a finger to his mouth and shushed him as the call connected.

“Hey, happen to have-,”

“ Where are you? ”

“-, a free moment? Anyways, I’m sending you the location right now.” Hitoshi said, doing exactly that. 

“ What happened? ”

“Uh, I don’t know.” Hitoshi said into the phone. “I just got here. Everyone’s going to live, at least, but-, hang on, is that rope tying up Stain?”

“Yes.” Todoroki said, zero shame.

“What year are you living in? You couldn’t spring for a set of handcuffs?” Hitoshi wanted to know, shifting the phone so he could hold it between his head and his shoulder and go digging in his pouches for a set of handcuffs. 

Todoroki shrugged.

“Rope is useful.”

“Alright, Alfred Hitchcock.” Hitoshi said, rolling his eyes.

“The movie Rope ?” The split-haired boy asked.

“How is that the reference you understand?” Hitoshi wanted to know. Todoroki just shrugged back again. He was sure the response would be something like I like old movies that would still not provide any understanding. 

“ Focus. ” Aizawa said. “ Tell me what you see .” His teacher sounded breathy, as if he was running. He probably was. 

“The guy in the offensive costume-,”

“Native.” The hero offered, face burning red. Hitoshi took that to mean that Native was indeed not...native.

“Native is pretty badly injured. Midoriya’s limping and has a lot of bumps and cuts but no shattered limbs. Todoroki’s arm is hurt and Iida has a pretty severe injury near his neck and upper shoulder.” Hitoshi rattled off to Aizawa. “Also his Quirk is shot for now.” Iida cringed under his gaze. 

“ Stain ?” Aizawa asked and Hitoshi glanced back at the villain on the ground. He had been hauled up and leaned forward, hands tied behind his back. His face was slack and gaunt.

Hitoshi was far from a human brain sensor, even if he could tell that woman was dead before. But to him, it felt like an unconscious person. The guy had clearly taken a beating too, so that’s what he was going to go with.

“Unconscious.” Hitoshi said. “As far as I can tell.” He held up the handcuffs and tossed them to Todoroki. The split-haired boy caught them with a nod, freeing himself from Iida. The class president was able to steady himself enough that Todoroki could step forward and slap the cuffs on the villain. 

“ Don’t move. I’ll be there in just a few minutes. ” Aizawa ordered.

“Okay.” Hitoshi said. “We won’t go anywhere.” With that, Aizawa ended the call, most likely swinging at top speed through the city to get to them. With that, he tucked his phone into a pocket and turned to his classmates. “So...you wanna tell me what happened here?”

Midoriya started to flush, coughing into his hand. 

“Not really.” He admitted. Iida somehow managed to look more ashamed than ever, while Todoroki simply pointed at Stain for his explanation of events. 

They got Iida and Native to the ground so Hitoshi could perform some rudimentary first aid. He did his best to manage the bleeding while Midoriya rushed through his version of events, bouncing on the balls of his feet and twisting his fingers nervously. 

“Oh, and I kindafiguredouthowtousemyQuirk anyways-,” The little green-haired boy seemed determine to steer clear of that subject, even though Hitoshi had seen the crackle of green lightning.

“I mean, no broken bones.” Hitoshi pointed out as he did his best to secure a bandage on Iida’s shoulder. “I’d call that a win.” Midoriya jerked his head to look at Hitoshi abruptly, looking thoroughly embarrassed. Hitoshi wasn’t exactly an expert in his own Quirk either, so he could cut his classmate some slack. “Congratulations, I think.”

“Th-thank you, Shinso-kun.” Midoriya said, rubbing the back of his neck. His mouth had softened, ends turning up in a smile. “That is very kind of you to say.” He glanced around for a moment, trying to find something to occupy himself while they waited for Aizawa. “S-so, how has your internship with Aizawa-sensei been?” 

It was a little funny how awkward Midoriya was. They hadn’t been classmates for very long but Hitoshi would consider them friendly. However, Hitoshi had gathered that Midoriya was a little embarrassed over the way he geeked out about Hitoshi’s Quirk and had been avoiding questions about it since, even though Hitoshi had caught him staring at him with those big, curious eyes. Hitoshi had used it in a class activity against Kirishima and he had seen his green-haired classmate take notes when he did. He didn’t mind, but Todoroki had reported back to him that Midoriya had been “ agonizing over his behavior ”.

“Good.” Hitoshi said. He didn’t really need to tell them what kind of a taskmaster Aizawa was or what training sessions with him were like. He was sure they knew already. “Eventful. I went on an emergency response shift with him yesterday and I sorta got attacked by a Nomu earlier tonight.” 

His green-haired classmate froze. Todoroki stopped too, looking at Hitoshi carefully. He immediately got the sense he said something wrong from the way they reacted. Iida looked concerned too, but there was something different about the way the other two were looking at him. 

“I...I’m sorry, Shinso-kun.” Midoriya said quietly, head dipping a little. “Todoroki-kun and I know what that’s like. How scary it is.”

“Oh.” Hitoshi said. They were empathizing with him. “Well, I lived. Anyways…how about you all? How are the internships?”

“Terrible.” Todoroki said, with a shrug. His face was thoughtful.

 Hitoshi rushed to cover his mouth, letting out an ugly laugh at the nonchalant way the split-haired boy spoke. A horrible snort forced its way through and he shook his head, trying to refocus.

“Sorry.” He said to Iida, trying to fix the crooked bandage. 

“No need to apologize.” Iida insisted. He still looked a little downtrodden, maybe even a little lost in the conversation, but to be fair, he had been bleeding profusely from the neck. “You are doing a fine job, Shinso-kun. Better than I could have.” 

“Did Aizawa teach you that?” Todoroki asked, peering over Hitoshi’s shoulder. His head was almost next to Hitoshi’s as he inspected the process.

“We went over first aid extensively.” Hitoshi confirmed. “And I got a little hands-on experience yesterday. I mean, I’ve had to bandage myself up before, but it’s different. I don’t care how shitty the bandages are on me , but it matters on someone else, y’know?” He felt Todoroki nod next to him. 

After another moment or two of idle conversation and Hitoshi’s piss-poor first aid skills, the heroes showed up. It wasn’t just Aizawa, but Endeavor and his sidekicks, and a little old man who immediately started berating Midoriya for running off. Hitoshi assumed that was the hero he was interning with. 

Aizawa walked over to where Hitoshi was knelt on the pavement next to Iida and Native, crouching down next to them. Iida looked like he wanted to die, in Hitoshi’s opinion. 

“Iida.” His teacher said evenly, peering through dark hair at the class president. 

“Thank you very much for your assistance, sensei. Shinso-kun has also been very helpful and I can only imagine that he has been an excellent-,”

“Iida.” Aizawa interrupted. Iida swallowed. “I’m going to want to hear the full story from you later.”

“Yes, sensei.” The class president responded robotically. Aizawa then turned to Hitoshi, resting a hand on his shoulder. He glanced over Hitoshi’s handiwork, only reaching out to adjust a few bandages.

“Good job.” His teacher said. “We’ll practice splints more so you get more comfortable, but this is a good sling. You learn quickly.” 

“Uh, thanks. Sure.” Hitoshi said, as Aizawa pulled him to his feet again. 

It was interesting to see the reaction of his classmates. Iida was typically so obedient and by-the-book, but given the context, Hitoshi could see why he had gone after Stain in the first place, despite how illogical it seemed. Still, Iida bowed to authority, particularly the authority of their homeroom teacher. Usually confident and loud, the class president was cringing before the gaze of their teacher. Midoriya was also beet red and obviously apologetic. He was a little teary as he tried to explain the situation, apologizing profusely. 

Todoroki was not apologetic whatsoever. It provided Hitoshi with endless entertainment. When Aizawa tried to fix him with a stern gaze, the split-haired boy simply looked away. It was odd, because Hitoshi’s impression of Todoroki so far had been ‘little old man’ but he was kind of….a delinquent . 

“Hey, troublemaker.” Hitoshi whispered as he fell into line with the other UA students, nudging Todoroki. Technically, he was the only student who hadn’t broken the rules in one way or another and he was basking in it. For the first time, he wasn’t being blamed for anything. 

“I didn’t cause the trouble.” Todoroki insisted.

“Just contributed?” Hitoshi suggested, and the split-haired boy tilted his head, thinking about it. Then, he gave a sharp nod that made Hitoshi snort. Todoroki just peered at him for a moment. “What?”

“Are you...okay?” Todoroki asked hesitantly. It reminded Hitoshi of when he had asked the split-haired boy the same thing at the Sports Festival. “After the Nomu attack.”

It wasn’t like Todoroki was one to fuss, so Hitoshi decided to answer honestly.

“Not really.” He whispered, giving a shrug. “It was just stressful. I know it was basically just a monster with no consciousness but…” Watching it die was different. The knowledge that it had once been someone still made it hard. Not to mention how absolutely monstrous it was. There wasn’t anything like facing down that creature, the feeling of its hot breath in his face or sharp claws skittering across his chest. 

He could still see the way its brain just slid off the pole and splattered onto the ground. 

“I’m sorry.” Todoroki said. “They’re just so perverse . It’s hard to reconcile them with the world you know.” 

“It’s alright. I’ll have some trouble sleeping, but I’ll get over it.” Hitoshi said. “Besides, what are the chances I get attacked by a Nomu twice?”

He glanced over to where Endeavor and his sidekicks were seemingly trying to arrange the ‘capture’ of the Hero Killer. It wasn’t like Aizawa or the other hero wanted it. Native, who had been less than useless, had the good sense to stay out of it. But Endeavor was being weirdly territorial, like Aizawa was gonna try to swoop in and take credit, and just making the whole process difficult.

Hitoshi glanced over at Stain, still sitting there limply in the street, hands cuffed behind his back. They should probably do something with him soon. Hitoshi peered closer, trying to get a good look at the villain’s face-,

He almost choked on his own spit. Reflexively, his hand shot out and grabbed Todoroki’s arm. Midoriya noticed his reaction immediately, and reached over to brush his hand against Hitoshi’s arm, eyes filled with concern. 

“What?” Todoroki asked, blinking at Hitoshi. Hitoshi shook his head quickly, releasing Todoroki’s arm and bringing a finger to his lips. He did reach back out and tug both of his classmates further back.

Because Stain was awake. 

It was different than before, the way his mind felt to Hitoshi. If that had been unconsciousness, then this was something else. The villain was just sitting there, biding his time and waiting for them all to turn their backs.

Aizawa was currently trapped in a one-sided argument when Endeavor over who would take Stain, seemingly wanting no part in it. Hitoshi took a step forward and grabbed Aizawa’s sleeve, yanking it. His teacher turned away from Endeavor in the middle of the flame hero’s sentence, focusing his full attention on him. Hitoshi must have looked pale, because he watched his teacher’s brow furrow.

“Yes?” He asked.

He couldn’t let Stain know that he knew. Hitoshi was pretty sure the moment Stain lost his advantage he would attack. So Hitoshi simply pointed at Stain, jabbing his finger at him hard , and hoping Aizawa got the message.

His teacher furrowed his brow even deeper and Hitoshi jabbed a finger again, before bringing it up to his lips in a shushing gesture. There was no realization on his teacher’s face, only more confusion. Regardless, Aizawa leaned in. 

“I’m authorizing you to use your Quirk.” He said.

And it struck Hitoshi how much Aizawa trusted him. 

He nodded sharply at his teacher and turned on his heel to face the villain. Stain was only ten feet away from them, but Hitoshi’s classmates had caught on that something was up and had backed up until they were behind Endeavor’s sidekicks.

The villain truly did make a twisted figure. Bloodied and dark, with what seemed like a mutilated face. He was oddly thin, but from what his classmates had said, moved with a speed and a power that was deeply frightening. 

Hitoshi took a deep breath.

“Oi, noseless wonder, I know you’re awake.” 

The next noise was the cuffs clattering to the ground, the lock having been picked. In an instant, the Hero Killer was in motion, threads from his mask billowing out behind him as he dashed forward, knife in hand and angled to slash. One of the sidekicks let out a scream as the crowd reacted all at once, the shock rippling through them. 

Hitoshi felt Aizawa’s hand hit his chest, shoving him backwards and getting in front of him. In an instant, his teacher was between him and the villain.

“ You-,!” Stain hissed and the wave of killing intent, sheer lust for blood, that rolled off him felt like it could flatten them. It was like he had Hitoshi’s heart in his hand and was starting to squeeze. It was almost tangible, so oppressive it was hard to draw breath-,

Hitoshi activated his Quirk and it was all over.

The Hero Killer froze in his tracks, face going blank. His shoulders dropped, arms hanging at his side. His mind was like a buzzing wasp in Hitoshi’s grasp.

“Shit.” Aizawa said, finally realizing what Hitoshi had been trying to communicate.

“Drop the knife.” Hitoshi said. It clattered to the ground. “Remove any other knives you’ve been hiding.” There were four or five more clatters, Stain moving slowly, but obediently. “Now, get rid of what you used to pick the lock.” A pin, tossed to the ground. 

“I’ll take care of it-,” Endeavor’s voice boomed out as he pushed through the crowd and Hitoshi registered Aizawa whirling around at Hitoshi’s side. 

“Then you should have earlier .” Aizawa snapped, and his voice was icy. “Let my student finish what he’s doing.” Hitoshi wished he could have seen Endeavor’s face, but he was too afraid to look away from the Hero Killer. Logically, he knew that his control wouldn’t break. But this was different. It wasn’t like putting his classmates to sleep or making Present Mic hop on one leg. It wasn’t even like making Haruka take deep breaths. This was a killer in front of him. If his control slipped even a little, he was gambling with the lives of other people.

“Pick up the handcuffs and put them on.” Hitoshi instructed, watching as Stain cuffed his own hands behind his back. “Now sit down and wait.” When Stain was sitting criss-cross on the ground, he turned to his teacher, letting out a breath. “Okay, I’m done.” 

And there was Aizawa’s hand back on his shoulder. His teacher forced him to make eye contact as he turned to him, making Hitoshi’s heart jump in his chest.

“Good job.” He said. “Both for noticing and handling it so well.” His teacher seemed to think for a second, before he patted Hitoshi on the shoulder. “After this, we’re leaving. You’ve had more than enough practical experience for one night and you need to eat and get some rest.” Hitoshi tried to not to let it show how much Aizawa’s praise affected him as he nodded back. 

“Sounds fantastic.” He said, offering an exhausted smile.

Hitoshi allowed himself to be gently nudged towards his classmates, as the adults took Stain into custody. Todoroki hovered near him, putting some distance between himself and his disgruntled father. The little old man, Gran Torino, was at Midoriya’s side, peering at Hitoshi.

“Kid.” He barked.

“Yes?” Hitoshi said, blinking at him. 

“Nice job.” He said. “And you did it properly, too.” He punctuated his statement by stomping on Midoriya’s foot. The green-haired boy burned with shame, hopping around on one foot and trying to hide the pained look on his face. “You had a great showing at the Sports Festival. Had to have gotten some pretty good offers.”

Hitoshi sensed there was a question in there somewhere, but he wasn’t going to do the work for him. He just nodded. 

“He did.” Todoroki interjected, on his behalf, glaring at his father down the street. It did not seem to escape the older hero’s notice.

“And yet?” Gran Torino gestured. “You chose your homeroom teacher.” Hitoshi just shrugged.

“I chose who I thought would help me learn the most in the shortest amount of time. Aizawa-sensei was the best choice for that.” He tilted his head carefully. “I didn’t need an internship with a flashy hero. I needed an internship that would teach me how to be the kind of hero I want to be.” 

“Just wanted to satisfy some curiosity.” Gran Torino said. “Nothin’ wrong with your choice, kid. Eraserhead’s a fine hero and he’s clearly done a fine job with you this past week.” He shrugged. The older hero opened his mouth to say something else-,

But a noise like a screech cut through the air and then there was the beating of wings, wind in his face, and Hitoshi barely turned in time to see another Nomu diving towards them. It was an awful winged thing , leathery and skeletal at the same time, just a heaving mass of warped flesh.

And Hitoshi just….froze.

He could feel the force against the pole in his palms that made them go numb. The hot breath on his face. He could see the way its eyes rolled back when he had shoved that makeshift spear up into its brain and ripped its life away. Hear the way the flesh came apart and the blood flowed.

Even if he hadn’t froze, he doubted he would have been able to get away in time anyways. It all happened so fast. He could vaguely hear screams, someone shouting his name, hands reaching towards him, but all he could see was those sharp claws aimed right for his face.

And the same moment the creature made contact, he heard a guttural scream of,

“ NO! ” And Hitoshi was falling backwards.

Pain burst forward from his face, blood spurting into his eye. He let out a cry as his back hit the ground, hand coming up to clutch his eye. He couldn’t see anything , red obscuring his vision and flowing through his fingers. It felt searing hot against his hand and the pain was so sharp and sudden it was crippling. The panic at losing his vision, his face and hands slick with blood-, 

It was like he couldn’t breathe. 

“ You’re okay, you’re okay -,” Someone was muttering like a mantra and there were hands at his face. He felt one warm, and one cold, peeling his fingers back carefully, wiping blood from his face. “ You’re okay, you’re gonna be alright. I wouldn’t let that happen to you. ” He could feel Todoroki close, even though his eyes were screwed shut, as if he was bent over him. “ Keep your eye closed, we’re gonna take care of you, I’m gonna stop the bleeding….” Todoroki promised over and over and as Hitoshi came back into his body a little more, he realized how panicked the other boy sounded. “ I won’t-, you won’t scar. You won’t scar. I promise. You won’t scar.” There was pressure above and below his eye, as Todoroki tried to stop the bleeding. 

Calm down, Hitoshi told himself. You have to calm down. You have to take a breath. Panicking won’t help. I’m not gonna die. I’m going to be okay.

This wasn’t going to kill him. He wasn’t that badly injured. So he needed to calm down, and figure out how injured he was. As long as he survived this, he would be fine. That was all he could ever ask for, to make it out with his life.

He forced himself to breathe in and out deeply, keeping his eyes screwed shut.

“ Hitoshi .” The low timbre Hitoshi was so familiar with was so close to him it startled him. He felt one of Aizawa’s hands come to rest on his chest. “That’s it. Deep breaths. You’ve got this. You’re going to be just fine.” He heard some rustling, like Aizawa was getting something from one of his pouches and then the hands on his face were being adjusted and something much softer was being pressed there in its place. 

Hitoshi could feel Aizawa gently moving Todoroki to the side as his teacher took over. He was hovering above him, pressing the gauze to his face while Todoroki’s hands slid away. They didn’t leave completely, though. Hitoshi could still feel Todoroki’s cool hand on his forehead, which he was grateful for. 

As he took more slow breaths and calmed down, Hitoshi began to realize he didn’t feel any pain in his eye itself . It felt like a slight pain on his eyelid and then a stinging pain above and below. It had decreased significantly in intensity, far more manageable now that Hitoshi had stopped panicking. He realized that Todoroki must have pulled him back at the last second. Instead of the Nomu tearing into his face, he had just nicked him instead. He sucked in a deep breath.

“Can I open my eye?” He whispered. Something wiped against his eyelid again, but Aizawa’s voice followed.

“Yes.” 

So Hitoshi did so. It took him a moment to gather the courage as he slowly blinked his eye open. The split on his eyelid hurt as he moved it, but other than the slight red tinge from the blood in his left eye, the world came into view slowly, but normally. There was Aizawa, above him. His hair was tied back from his face haphazardly, like he had done it without checking. His brow was deeply furrowed, looking concerned. But not panicked . Nothing in his eyes read to Hitoshi that he was in some kind of severely injured state. He could make out his hand pressed in odd shapes on Hitoshi’s face, as he applied pressure to the wounds, and Hitoshi could see how slick with blood they were.

“It’s shallow.” Aizawa promised, voice low. “You’re bleeding a lot because it’s your face and head, but the cut itself is shallow.” Hitoshi peered up to see Todoroki sitting there too, hunched over him. His face was pale and he was chewing on his lip nervously. It actually shocked Hitoshi a little, because he looked more anxious than Hitoshi had ever seen him. 

“I know a specialist.” Todoroki said, voice still wrought with fear. “I promise you it won’t scar, no matter what.” 

Hitoshi slowly brought up his own hand to his face, feeling the blood that had run down his cheek. His eye. His left eye. Just like Todoroki’s own scarred left eye. 

Ah , he thought. He didn’t know how Todoroki got that scar but Hitoshi was willing to bet his life it was traumatic and affected his classmate’s self image. Of course it did. It was a giant scar on his face , one that seemed pretty old. There was no way a kid came out of that without carrying something with him. No wonder Todoroki had been so panicked .

Hitoshi let out a breath, relaxing a little. He was okay. Everything was fine. 

“Hey.” He said. “Do you remember when I said I probably wouldn’t get attacked by a Nomu again?”

Aizawa looked distinctly pained, but Todoroki let out a little huff of breath. He peered down at Hitoshi, shoulders relaxing a little.

Or at least that’s what Hitoshi thought.

For a moment, a flaming mustache swam into view as the giant man approached. He had a funny look on his face, especially from the angle Hitoshi was looking at him from. He really was massive , towering over them. 

“Is the child alright?” Endeavor wanted to know, voice oddly demanding. Huh. That was a little insulting.

“He’s going to be fine.” Aizawa said curtly, mostly ignoring him.

“He froze up , putting my Shouto at ri-,” Hitoshi watched Aizawa turn his head, mouth pressed into a thin line. His eyes had burned red for a moment, ready to respond to Endeavor. But Todoroki? Todoroki lurched from where he was sitting, springing to his feet and practically flying at Endeavor. Hitoshi watched in shock as his classmate’s bloody hands slammed into his father’s chest, face twisting in rage .

“Shut up.” Todoroki seethed, rage barely contained. His father took a step back, looking shocked. He moved out of Hitoshi’s view, so Hitoshi lurched up, trying to get a good look. Aizawa’s hands pressed him downwards, shaking his head at him. “You have been useless , less than useless. He’s done your job for you, don’t even look at-, ” Hitoshi pulled his head up regardless, wanting to see the conflict. He could feel his core straining but he ignored it.

Endeavor’s eyes were surprisingly wide at the way his son had just flown off the handle at him, taking another step back. Hitoshi knew that Todoroki was probably in a terrible mental state right then from the trauma of seeing Hitoshi almost lose his left eye. His classmate’s hands were literally covered in his blood and Hitoshi imagined this was bringing up the most painful moment of Todoroki’s life. In all likelihood, he was in a mentally fragile state and his father had pushed the wrong button. But Hitoshi was a little touched over how vehemently Todoroki was defending him. 

“Todoroki-kun-,” One of the sidekicks, Candlelight said, stepping forward. Todoroki stopped in his tracks as she held her hands out, trying to soothe him. She looked just as shocked as Endeavor did. “We….we can talk about this all later-,” Hitoshi watched Todoroki raise his eyebrows, and he searched for something to say to interrupt all of this, eyes sliding across the scene in front of him-,

“What the hell happened to that thing?” He asked, abruptly. Everyone went quiet. He pulled himself to more of a sitting position, Aizawa letting out a quiet sigh as he adjusted his hold on the bandages on Hitoshi’s face. He felt a brief blood rush as he sat up, but his vision only blurred for like, a moment. 

On the ground, only a few feet away, still radiating heat….was the twitching corpse of the Nomu. It’s head and neck were at all the wrong angles, looking unnatural against its warped body. It was limp against the pavement.

More notably, there was Aizawa’s capture weapon, still locked around its neck and hardened, the end trailing on the ground where his teacher had abandoned it to come to Hitoshi’s aid. 

“I took care of it.” Aizawa said.

Aizawa had killed the Nomu that attacked Hitoshi. He had used his capture weapon to break its neck. In front of four of his students. Hitoshi knew that Aizawa was hard on them, but he also wasn’t the kind of teacher who would expose them to unnecessary violence if he could avoid it. 

Hitoshi hadn’t even heard it die .

“Yeah, you could say that.” Gran Torino said, following up his statement with a cackle.

“I second that.” Hitoshi said. “Minus the diabolical laughter.” There was a pause.

“Hold still.” Aizawa instructed, ignoring Hitoshi’s comment pointedly. “Let me check under the bandages.”

Chapter Text

Hitoshi took a thirty minute shower.

Even though there had been a lot of blood, his face had stopped bleeding relatively quickly and all the heroes had agreed Hitoshi wouldn’t need stitches. It wasn’t like the hospital could do that much besides bandage it, since it wasn’t life-threatening or surgical. Hitoshi hadn’t even needed to beg that much to get Aizawa to take him home instead of the hospital. 

They had been out late, but technically shorter than the patrol shift they originally planned, which meant they had some extra time. His teacher had told him that he would be eating and rehydrating before bed and sent him to take a shower.

And Hitoshi had found himself desperately scrubbing the blood off his skin. His face was easy enough to clean up but he had forgotten about the Nomu from earlier. He had been so rattled he hadn’t even realized that his hands and his uniform were stained with its blood. It had a few hours to dry, too.

And now it wouldn’t come off.

He scrubbed and scrubbed and only stopped himself when he realized he was going to scrub his skin raw if he didn’t cut back. He just wouldn’t look at it, that was all. He even put on his sweatshirt with the longest sleeves possible so he could hide his hands. 

“Sorry.” He said, as he stepped back into the common area, clearing his throat. His voice sounded tired and gravelly even to himself. His body just felt so heavy , even if the shower had felt good. “I didn’t realize how long I was-,” He stopped himself, blinking at the scene in front of him. He didn’t know when Aizawa had ordered it, but there were four or five boxes of what smelled like pizza . They weren’t huge boxes, but it was still so much for just the two of them. 

“I got a few varieties.” Aizawa said, head popping out from the kitchen. He was drinking from a pouch of something. It wasn’t his normal jelly pouch, but Hitoshi couldn’t see the label from across the room. “Don’t worry about it.” Hitoshi’s eyes must have been wide at the amount of food. “Hizashi will want some later too and we always do this.” Aizawa shrugged. “We like leftovers and options.” His teacher gestured for him to come over and Hitoshi slowly toddled over.

Aizawa picked up the boxes and moved them to the table, shoving a pouch of something into Hitoshi’s hands as he did. It looked like the same thing Aizawa was drinking and Hitoshi glanced down at the label.

“Coconut water?” He asked curiously. 

“I’m not a fan of sports drinks. A lot of sugar.” Aizawa said gruffly as he set two plates out. “This does the same job without it.” Hitoshi tilted his head and the dark-haired man reached out and pushed him towards his seat. “You need electrolytes.” 

They opened up the boxes and Aizawa dumped a few slices on Hitoshi’s plate, prodding him to eat. It was still perfectly warm, the smell wafting towards them once the boxes opened. It was good pizza too, and Hitoshi didn’t feel bad about taking slices from a few different types. Aizawa had popped all the boxes open and pulled slices from different ones first, though Hitoshi suspected he did that on purpose. 

Hitoshi knew he was tired, he knew that he didn’t often takeout besides literal fast food, he knew that Aizawa seemed familiar with this place and seemed to like it so it probably was objectively good pizza. But right in that moment, exhausted, sore, freshly showered…that pizza was the best thing Hitoshi had ever tasted. He kept himself from eating it too fast, focused on guiding the pizza to his mouth and chugging some coconut water. He wiped his mouth with the napkin that Aizawa had set next to him, blinking to himself.

“What kind do you two normally get?” Hitoshi asked, looking towards Aizawa. His teacher looked at him for a moment, and then his mouth began to twitch. Aizawa flicked his eyes away, pressing his mouth into a thin line to fight the smile. “What?” Hitoshi asked, absolutely baffled at the reaction to his question. It wasn’t a weird question, was it?

“You were so quiet while you were eating.” Aizawa said. “You were wilted, like a plant.”  He gestured with his hand. “You’re sitting straighter.” Hitoshi glanced down at himself, realizing he had physically straightened up after eating a slice of pizza. He crossed his arms over his chest.

“I guess I was hungrier than I thought I was.” He said. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” Aizawa said nonchalantly, but the corner of his mouth was still twitching.

Sometime during the meal, the cats woke up and Coconut climbed into Hitoshi’s lap. He welcomed the little warm body, of course, but it still made it harder to eat if he was battling Coconut for his pizza. Peaches, a slightly bigger calico cat, was less cuddly, but she climbed up onto the back of the couch and settled into a loaf-like position, looking over at the two of them. She seemed to have taken to Hitoshi less than Coconut, but as soon as she was settled in a position where she could see them and be comfortable, she started purring so loudly that Hitoshi almost startled. 

Eventually, Aizawa booted Hitoshi to the couch, where Hitoshi immediately became horizontal. He literally couldn’t help it; his body was just so heavy. It didn’t help that Aizawa had seemed to expect it, handing him some more water, this time with a bendy straw in it. As if he knew Hitoshi would be drinking from that position. Hitoshi had been instructed to hydrate more before he went to bed while Aizawa cleaned up, which was the only reason he hadn’t crawled off into the spare bedroom that had been provided. 

That, Hitoshi would never get used to. This week, while grueling in many ways, had been like a vacation in others. His own room . Even if it was just for a week. He hadn’t had something like that since he was a child. Not to mention a big, soft bed with more blankets and pillows than he could possibly ever need. A queen or a full. Hitoshi hadn’t even fully utilized the bed yet, automatically curling up on one side. He hadn’t even thought about it; he could have been starfishing dead center this entire time.

The bathroom wasn’t connected to his room, but Aizawa and Yamada had their own connected to the master, so it was effectively his own bathroom. It was beautiful, too. Clean and fully stocked. 

Hitoshi got that it was probably just a nice, but pretty normal bathroom to most people. But he was so used to sharing a bathroom with so many other people that there was always soap scum and mildew and hair just everywhere , practically stuck on every surface and caked to the base of everything. It was rarely ever actually clean and the floor was so cluttered with towels and clothes that it was almost stressful to be in it. He had never totally understood why some people found their bathrooms to be an oasis, given the way he had grown up. 

But now he got it. When it was warm and smelled good from a hot shower and he didn’t have to worry about being interrupted or taking up too much time. Every surface was clean. The hand soap was moisturizing. Sometimes, Coconut would sit on the rug while he showered, just hanging out with him. It was luxurious. 

Hitoshi knew his foster home was stressful, but he hadn’t even realized just how stressful until this week. Even when it was silent in his foster home, it was tense. Like if Hitoshi made the wrong move or if someone was just having a bad day, all that tension would just explode . There was never a moment where Hitoshi felt like he was relaxed or like he belonged in that house, despite being there for months now. Here, he didn’t even have to worry. He could go from room to room. He could get a snack from the kitchen. He was even encouraged to. He could take a book from the shelf and read it if he wanted and just sit on the couch. He got to exist in the common spaces. 

It was amazing. 

Hitoshi felt a paw on his stomach. 

He glanced up and stilled, afraid a sudden movement would scare her off. If he wanted it too much, tried to pet her before she was ready, she would dart. He had to give her time.

Peaches was slowly making her way down from the back of the couch, climbing over Hitoshi. She was sniffing at his clothes, his torso. When all four paws were settled on him, she moved forward to stick her face against his, nose sniffing his face. Hitoshi held his breath.

Finally, seemingly satisfied with the way he smelled, she settled down on his chest, lowering her head and starting to purr. Hesitantly, Hitoshi raised his hand, slowly creeping towards her head. He gave her a second to sniff his fingers if she so wished, but once it was clear she didn’t mind, he slowly raised his hand to pet her head.

“ Oh my god .” He whispered, hand brushing against the soft fur. She pushed her head against his palm.

“Congratulations.” Aizawa said, as he walked around the couch. “You have successfully charmed both our cats.” 

And then Aizawa did something strange.

He sat down on the ground next to the couch, propping his legs up. He was level with Hitoshi, who was still laying down. It startled Hitoshi for some reason, Aizawa taking a seat on the floor in his own house. There was a comfortable chair just a few feet away and some space at the end of the couch, but Hitoshi didn’t dare question why he didn’t sit there.

“I’m sorry.” He said. “I’m taking up almost the entire couch. I can sit up-,”

“No.” Aizawa said, shaking his head. “I’m fine here. I would have sat here regardless. Don’t worry about it.” His tone was assertive, and Hitoshi wanted to ask if he was sure, but took that as his cue.

Now that he was laying down, the soreness in his bones was starting to soak in. As much as he didn’t want to disturb the cat on his chest, he really would rather lay on his side. As if sensing that, Peaches climbed into the crook of his arm and he got to turn his body towards Aizawa and cuddle her.

“Lift your head.” Aizawa instructed and Hitoshi did. His teacher shoved a pillow under it. 

“I’m not going to sleep here.” Hitoshi muttered. He could see from this position that his teacher had a first aid kit with him, open on the floor at his side. His teacher was tearing open a disinfecting wipe. 

“Hold still.” he said, and Hitoshi chewed on the inside of his cheek at the sting from Aizawa disinfecting the cut on his face. He shut his eye as Aizawa dabbed at it mercilessly. He followed it up by taping a bandage to the cuts above and below his eye, which Hitoshi thought might be overkill. His teacher probably could have gotten away with a bandaid, but he wasn’t going to say anything. Aizawa seemed entirely focused, stoically administering first aid. “We’ll take you to Recovery Girl on Monday.” Aizawa said. “She’ll heal it up. Until then, keep it clean and covered.”

“Yes, sensei.” Hitoshi said, settling his head more on the pillow now that Aizawa was done, his hair splaying out against the soft fabric. His teacher looked him up and down a few more times, studying him. 

“Show me your hands.” He said.

“Ah…” Hitoshi said hastily, knowing they were still stained with Nomu blood. He didn’t want to look at them. “They’re fine.”

Aizawa raised an eyebrow. Hitoshi obediently slid his hands out from his long sleeves and held his palms out to his teacher. He purposely did not look at them, as Aizawa reached out to inspect them, turning his hands over one by one in his own. 

“Your palms are bruised.” He informed Hitoshi, and that wasn’t too surprising. “I’m going to get you some ice and an Advil. They seem a little swollen and it will help.” 

It turned out one of his palms was a little scraped too, so Aizawa obviously disinfected that and bandaged it too, even though it seemed a little unnecessary. He shoved some ice packs in Hitoshi’s hands and told him to hold onto them for the next fifteen minutes. By then, Hitoshi felt like he could barely move, like his body was sinking into the couch. His eyelids were so heavy .

“You did well tonight.” Aizawa told him, sitting back down on the floor next to him. Hitoshi had curled up more on the couch, making sure there was a comfortable nest for Peaches against the curve of his body.  “It’s not the kind of experience I would have chosen for you, but valuable nonetheless.” 

“Well, I did learn a lot.” Hitoshi said drowsily. “About my Quirk, too.” He hadn’t thought much about it before this week, but after repeatedly using his Quirk on Yamada, even just normally , without pushing its limits, he felt like he had become more familiar with it. The way he had always thought of people was intrinsically tied to his Quirk. He really could feel the minds around him in some way or another. It wasn’t like he knew what they were thinking. But he could tell when someone was unconscious or dead. Which had been helpful, so far. “Didn’t test it, but I’m pretty sure my Quirk wouldn’t work on a Nomu.”

“I thought not.” Aizawa agreed quietly. He glanced at Hitoshi again. “What do you think about the Nomu from earlier tonight?”

Hitoshi was pretty sure Aizawa wasn’t asking about the winged one. But he clarified anyways.

“You mean the one…” He took a breath. There was no point in avoiding it. He had killed it. That’s what he had done. He didn’t regret it. He knew it was necessary. He wished he didn’t have to kill it, but he had to and he did it. That was reality. “The one I killed?” Aizawa tilted his head, looking at Hitoshi oddly. 

“They are unprecedented creatures. But they are just creatures . The ones we saw tonight didn’t have any consciousness.” Aizawa said, voice firm. “You had to do something extreme. You shouldn’t have had to, but you did.” Aizawa paused. “I’m sorry you were in that position.” Hitoshi yawned.

“I would have rather not killed it-,” It did sting, saying the word. But there was no point in avoiding it. “-, but if it's just a fact that Nomu now exist, I would have had to face this eventually. And there doesn’t seem to be any shortage of them.” Hitoshi said. “It’s no one’s fault. It’s not like we could have known what was going to happen in Hosu. And it’s not like I could have run into that burning building with you. And it’s not like you could have left people in there to die.” 

“It doesn’t bother you to acknowledge that you killed it?” Aizawa asked, voice neutral. There was no judgement in his voice, just a simple question. Or at least that was how Hitoshi interpreted it. 

“It does.” Hitoshi admitted. “But avoiding it doesn’t make it any less true. It’s something I have to learn to live with one way or another.” Aizawa gave him that was surprisingly soft, and Hitoshi found himself continuing. It was something about the way Aizawa just sat there and listened . Hitoshi could tell that he wanted him to talk and despite how unusual it felt for him, for someone to actually want to hear him, it made Hitoshi want to please him. “To be honest, I really don’t feel great about it.”

“Are you okay?” Aizawa asked simply. It was such a basic question, but even Hitoshi could tell how much weight it carried, despite the light, judgement-less way his teacher asked it. 

“No.” Hitoshi said. He knew the dark-haired man in front of him would know if he was lying, especially with how tired Hitoshi was. “I don’t think so. But I will be.” 

Aizawa smiled at him. Actually smiled, and it wasn’t that creepy piano-toothed smile of mischievous glee that Hitoshi had become familiar with. His teacher let out a sort of breathy sigh.

“You do something very odd.” His teacher informed him stoically. “You’ll follow me obediently, even hide behind me in unfamiliar situations-,” Hitoshi didn’t have the energy to totally cringe, but he was sure it showed on his face. “-, but the moment something or someone pushes you, you push back almost immediately. The moment things get tough, you always match it.” Aizawa said. “You are remarkably strong.” 

“Oh.” Hitoshi said. He didn’t know what to say, searching for words.

“You don’t need to say anything.” Aizawa said, as if he was reading Hitoshi’s mind. Hitoshi was tired, but he knew he hadn’t said that out loud. “Just an observation.”

“What time do you need me out of here tomorrow?” Hitoshi asked drowsily, switching topics. He was sure his teacher was used to it by now. He was originally supposed to head back late tomorrow after a debrief with Aizawa and take the weekend to relax, but they hadn’t quite set a time yet.

His teacher paused.

“I’d like you to stay another day to rest here.” Aizawa said simply. “Is that a problem at all?”

“No.” Hitoshi said and hoped he hadn’t said it too quickly. In fact, it relieved some stress to know he had more time to relax here instead of having to go back to his foster home. “Not at all.”

“Okay then.”

And then the next thing Hitoshi was really conscious of was the morning.

When he woke up in his bed. Comfortable and warm under the comforter, Peaches snoozing on top of it, curled up against the wall. The curtains were drawn how he left them, but he could see the gentle glow of daylight around the edges. He could smell something cooking in the kitchen down the hall, the gentle thrum of voices.

He didn’t ask how he got there.