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Chapter Text

Shinso Hitoshi does one more round around the venue, avoiding the gaze of any of the heroes in the room. Easy enough, since they’re all too focused on mingling and not the security guards flitting about in the periphery.

The Hero Billboard Chart gala. 

Almost half of his former classmates have made it into the top twenty, much less the top ten, which means they’re All. Here. 

Midoriya Izuku ranked second, Katsuki Bakugo ranked third, Todoroki Shoto ranked fourth. But that’s just for now. The three of them are constantly rotating spots, nearly every other week. Hitoshi doesn’t think it’ll be long before they overtake Togata Mirio at the number one spot. Best Jeanist and Edgeshot fell in at five and six respectively. Number Seven Hero went to Iida Tenya. Eight fell to Hado Nejire and nine went to a new hero from Ketsubutsu called Sideswipe, with Asui Tsuyu coming in at ten.

Most of the rest of his class is here too. Uraraka Ochako is the Number Twelve Hero and Kaminari Denki ranked eighteen. Kirishima Eijiro is fourteen and Yaoyorozu Momo is sixteen.

From Class B, Kendo Itsuka is ranked fifteen, Awase Yosetsu is nineteen and Juzo Honenuki is thirteen.

Needless to say, evading former classmates and anyone who could possibly recognize him has become Hitoshi’s game of the night.

Hopefully they won’t recognize him with his usually unruly hair pulled into a neat ponytail. It has been six years since anyone last saw or heard from him anyways. His hair has gotten longer, falling just below his chin in thick waves, and he’s allowed a stubble to grow on his chin. 

Tokoyami Fumikage had mentioned that he looked a bit like Aizawa when they ran a mission together a couple years prior.

While his hair isn’t nearly as long as Aizawa’s, Hitoshi can see the reason people found a resemblance between them.

Maybe he’s channeling his mentor a little more than he should have been. Kuroiro Shihai regularly gives him grief over his lifestyle habits.

Not exactly his fault. Not only was he Eraserhead’s protege, but after graduation he became his sidekick before Aizawa retired to take over as the principal of UA. It was easy enough to follow in his footsteps when they were basically attached at the hip for years.

The fact he chose to spend almost two years living on the street before buying his shitty and probably condemned apartment was probably also influenced by his mentor, considering Aizawa did something similar for two years.

So maybe he took mentor a little too literally, but who is really going to know? 

All he has to do is get through the rest of the night and he’ll get a nice fat paycheck that will cover his rent for the next four months.

No one said being an independent underground hero was easy.

He was lucky enough to get this job thanks to a fellow underground, Toteki Itejiro.

Hitoshi is slinking out to station himself back on the roof when he hears a familiar voice.

“Shinso? Is that you?” 

Well shit.

Hitoshi freezes, slouches, and tries to meld into the wall at the booming voice.

It doesn’t work and he finds himself looking up into the face of his former classmate, Iida Tenya.

The Turbo Hero has changed. It wasn’t like he had a lot of baby fat to begin with, but the residual roundness has sloughed off leaving the man with a jawline strong enough to cut steel. His hairstyle is still the same, only slicked back for the occasion, and he’s broad. 

Hitoshi isn’t exactly lacking in muscles, but Iida still manages to make him feel small, his navy blue suit stretching over his shoulders and biceps and his tailored pants hugging his massive thighs. It doesn’t help that Hitoshi topped out at 183cm but Iida, for some reason, shot up. He wouldn’t be surprised if his former classmate was at least 188, maybe 190.

“It is you!” Iida says cheerfully. “What are you doing here? I apologize, I don’t think I remember your name on the chart…”

“It wasn’t,” Hitoshi shudders at the thought, “I’m working”

“Hero work?” Iida inquires, clearly intrigued.

“No. Security tonight,” Hitoshi responds.

“That’s very admirable!” Iida smiles, “not all hero work is done as a hero after all. How have you been? I don’t think I’ve seen you since graduation? I heard you went underground. Are you with an agency?”

“Whoa,” Hitoshi holds up a hand, feeling a headache build, “slow down there for a second, Emergency Exit,” the old nickname comes back unbidden.

“Sorry”

“I did go underground,” Hitoshi slides his hands in his pockets, “but I’m independent”

“Ah, like Mr. Aizawa”

“Yup”

Silence falls over them. Iida clearly unsure how to continue the conversation and Hitoshi intentionally not really helping the situation.

“Shinso!”

Hitoshi exhales in relief at Toteki’s voice.

“Well, I’ve gotta go,” Hitoshi says, turning on his heel.

“Wait,” Iida’s hand wraps around his wrist and Hitoshi freezes at the contact. He’s not used to physical contact that isn’t in combat. “Do you want to catch up sometime?” Iida steps closer and Hitoshi’s gaze shoots to the ground to avoid his strikingly red gaze.

Iida hasn’t lost any of his intensity, that’s for sure.

“I don’t-”

“Here,” Iida pulls a pen and a business card out of his pants and quickly scrawls something down before handing it to Hitoshi. “I would really like to catch up with you. I was actually talking with Deku and Chargebolt about you the other day. Tsukuyomi had mentioned he worked with you on a case a couple years back, but nobody else had heard from you”

“Sounds about right,” Hitoshi pockets the card, not bothering to look at it as he takes a step back. “You should get back to the party, Emergency Exit”

Iida perks up at the old nickname.

“Shinso, I-”

“Shinso, we’re being sent to the first floor,” Toteki says, appearing at his side. He glances at Iida briefly before taking Hitoshi’s arm and guiding him away.

“Thanks for the save,” Hitoshi says.

“What was that even about?” Toteki asks once they’re far enough away. His dark hair is pulled into a braid. “Care to explain why you looked like you needed an escape and why the Number Seven Hero is looking at you like you kicked a puppy?”

“Not really,” Hitoshi snorts.

“Fair enough”

This is why he gets along with Toteki. The Boomerang Hero is quiet and unassuming. Doesn’t really ever push anything either. 

He also understands the struggle that independent underground heroes face.

Toteki is lucky enough to have had a very well-off grandmother who left her only grandson everything. 

He’s sometimes helped Hitoshi out when things would get really tough. Hitoshi repays him by saving his ass and buying him alcohol.

Hitoshi has considered taking on a second job. Monoma Neito had started teaching at UA the previous year and quickly realized he actually preferred teaching over hero work. Given his personality, and the fact his quirk makes him incredibly effective at teaching students how to use their quirks, Hitoshi isn’t surprised. Monoma had mentioned that they were looking for another teacher and maybe Hitoshi would do well there.

The thought gives Hitoshi hives. 

He remembers Class A and the amount of grey hairs Aizawa ended up with at the end of their tenure as students. 

He doesn’t think he wants to follow in Aizawa’s footsteps quite that much.

Maybe he could work at a cat cafe or a pet store or something.

The idea is actually surprisingly appealing.

Hitoshi makes a mental reminder to look up cat cafes and see if he can find any that are hiring.

Glancing around, Hitoshi decides that the ballroom is dangerous. He’s pretty sure Iida informed Midoriya and Kaminari about his presence since both of them seem a little too interested in the roaming security staff.

Hitoshi makes a beeline for the door leading to the roof, relieving the other security personnel who had staked it out.

At least the roof is a safe place from any more possible former classmate encounters. 

Chapter Text

It’s a warm June night, one of the nicer ones for patrolling. 

Hitoshi is sitting on top of a convenience store roof, chewing on an onigiri. Toteki is crouched next to him, polishing his boomerangs.

“Mindjack, what do you want for your birthday?” Toteki yawns.

“Death”

“Not funny”

“I thought it was funny,” Kuroiro Shihai’s head pops out of the rooftop.

“See?” Hitoshi says flatly, brushing rice out of his Persona Chords. 

His birthday is literally in two hours.

At some point after midnight, Hitoshi was cursed with the thing called life.

He has no idea when exactly, or even if July 1st really is his birthday or whether that’s an arbitrary date the foster system slapped on him when he was abandoned as a toddler.

Either way. 

Happy Fucking Birthday.

“Oh, Ingenium was on the news again,” Toteki tilts his head, “he saved an entire bus of kids from going off a bridge. He’s gonna go up in the hero rank this year”

“I don’t care,” Hitoshi’s cheeks flush. Toteki raises an eyebrow. 

“Oh? What’s this?” Kuroiro grins, “does someone have a crush on a limelight hero?”

“No,” Hitoshi rolls his eyes, “he came to talk to me when we were doing security for the Billboard Gala last November. He was just being his usual overly friendly self and Boomerang Man won’t let up”

“Oh?” Kuroiro hums, leaning in, “that’s uncharacteristic”

“He gave Mindjack his card,” Toteki says, “with his cell phone number”

Kuroiro makes a high pitched sound of laughter.

“He just wanted to catch up”

“Did you call him?” Kuroiro pulls himself entirely out of the roof, looking gleeful. 

“No,” Hitoshi snorts, “why would I? I haven’t seen him, or anyone, since graduation”

“He was your class rep, right?” Toteki tilts his head, adjusting his red scarf. “I think I remember him from the Provisional Licensing Exams”

“I was still in General Education,” Hitoshi says, resting his chin on his knee.

“How was your relationship in school?” Toteki queries.

“Nonexistent,” Kuroiro snickers, “Mindjack here didn’t talk to anyone. Phantom Thief, maybe. To some extent Chargebolt and Tsukuyomi. But that’s about it”

“Fuck you Vantablack,” Hitoshi says without heat. Toteki chuckles.

“Why am I not surprised?” he muses.

“Oi, Vantablack, what’s your favorite color?”

“Black? Is this a trick-”

Hitoshi captures Kuroiro under his brainwashing.

“Do the Nya Nya Dance,” Hitoshi deadpans.

Toteki chortles as Kuroiro holds his hands above his head and wiggles his hips back and forth while folding his fingers down repeatedly.

“You’re an asshole, Mindjack,” Kuroiro scoffs when Hitoshi lets go of his brainwash. 

“You fell for it”

“You don’t even need to ask questions anymore!”

Hitoshi grins ghoulishly and leans back on his hands. Kuroiro drops down next to Toteki. 

“Ready to move on?” Toteki asks, “think we need to split up?”

“Can’t hurt,” Hitoshi gets to his feet, stretching his muscles out. “Meet at the usual place for check-in in two hours?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Toteki shifts his in-ear radio and pushes the button on the band around his neck. “Testing”

His voice echoes through Hitoshi’s own headset and he shoots him a thumbs up. Kuroiro does the same. 

“Long live eternal darkness,” Kuroiro tests his with a grin, earning an eyeroll.

“Fuck you both,” Hitoshi deadpans into his own microphone.

Once they’ve confirmed they can hear each other, the three of them split up.

An hour into his patrol, Hitoshi has stopped one mugging and one abusive boyfriend, and has seen three stray cats. 

He’d consider it successful, if boring as hell.

He hopes Kuroiro and Toteki are having a more interesting time.

When the three of them realized that they all patrolled similar areas, they decided to team up. That way if one of them ran into trouble that they couldn’t handle alone, the other two could provide backup. 

Kuroiro is the fastest at getting to any one location, able to zip through the shadows with ease. Hitoshi is the second fastest. 

Although, they ensured that their joint patrol route made it easy enough for each of them to reach the others in a timely manner if needed.

Hitoshi is fond of high places, another trait he took after his mentor with, whereas Toteki tends to patrol closer to the ground and Kuroiro dips in and out of shadows.

It worked. In a really odd way. They’ve saved each other’s asses more than once and been through hell together a few times. Hitoshi would consider Toteki and Kuroiro, and Monoma, his most trusted people.

Monoma joined their patrols occasionally. Usually Saturday nights, since UA didn’t have classes on Sunday, and Wednesday nights since his homeroom class had quirk training first thing Thursday morning, so Monoma had off until after lunch.

He’s jumping from the parapet of a bank building when movement in an alleyway catches his eyes.

Too big to be a stray cat. Definitely human.

It could be someone looking for a place to sleep. But his senses tell him it’s something he needs to check out. 

Hitoshi’s stomach drops when he sees the massive and horribly familiar brick-colored villain.

If Hitoshi were a limelight hero, he’d probably consider this asshole his arch-nemesis or something.

As it is, he’s just some asshole drug dealer who happens to be the only villain Hitoshi has failed to capture twice.

It doesn’t help that he busted his drug ring several months back, which laid a target on his back.

Their last encounter had Hitoshi nearly becoming a high velocity ketchup smear on the pavement if not for Kuroiro’s timely save out of nowhere.

Ah shit. Hitoshi hesitates. Kuroiro and Toteki are gonna be pissed, but he can’t let this guy get away.

“Guys,” Hitoshi speaks into his microphone, “it’s Akiyama”

“Don’t do it,” Toteki’s voice crackles through his earpiece, “wait for one of us”

“I can’t, sorry”

“MINDJACK YOU MORON! DON’T YOU DARE-” Kuroiro’s voice causes feedback in Hitoshi’s ear. Hitoshi disconnects his ear piece before his friend can finish his sentence and swings down on his capture weapon.

“Oi, asshole, what are you up to?” Hitoshi changes his voice.

“Who’re you calling-” Akiyama falls under Hitoshi’s brainwashing. Unfortunately, there’s something about Akiyama that renders Hitoshi’s brainwashing less effective against him. He hasn’t figured out what it is, but he needs to move fast. 

Unfortunately, Akiyama’s aptly and a little uncreatively named quirk, Brick, also makes his body as hard as one. The softest place is his head, but he makes it very difficult to reach his head.

It doesn’t help that he’s fucking tall.

Hitoshi launches his capture weapon out, knowing a kick to Akiyama’s head would break his control. 

Unfortunately, Akiyama did just fine on his own because he comes back to himself seconds before Hitoshi’s capture weapon wraps around him.

“Mindjack,” Akiyama sneers, grabbing it out of the air, “or should I say, Shinso Hitoshi”

Oh fucking hell. That’s bad. 

How did Akiyama figure out who he is?

“Who the hell is that?” Hitoshi drawls. “You think you’ve got something on me?”

“Oh, I know I do,” Akiyama’s face twists into a grin more ghoulish than Hitoshi’s own. “I always thought you looked familiar and now I know why. You made it pretty far in your Sports Festival your first year”

A chill slides down Hitoshi’s spine. 

This is really bad.

“I don’t know what you think you know,” Hitoshi splays his hand out, “but you’re wrong,” he sneers.

Akiyama grips his capture weapon with both hands.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Hitoshi catches him under his control again before deciding to risk shaking him out of his control. He aims a kick at Akiyama’s head.

It works, but Akiyama is a lot stronger. 

The villain strikes out, forming a brick on his elbow and slamming it into Hitoshi’s chest.

Hitoshi goes flying into a nearby dumpster.

Ooh. There go his ribs. And what feels like his entire chest, actually. And he can feel something cold and wet seeping into his pants.

He really hopes that it’s blood and not something from the dumpster. 

Gritting his teeth against the pain, he clambers out of the metal container and launches his capture weapon out.

“The fucking dumpster,” Hitoshi sneers, “I mean, I knew you were a piece of trash, but I’m not about to join you there”

Akiyama grunts and Hitoshi latches onto it, brainwashing him long enough to launch himself off the rim of the dumpster onto Akiyama’s shoulders. 

“Go the fuck to sleep now,” Hitoshi grunts, wrapping his legs tight enough around Akiyama’s neck to cut off his oxygen. 

Akiyama grips his ankle and Hitoshi bites back a yelp as the massive man swings him by his leg.

He hears a crack and pain sears up his leg.

That’s definitely a break.

He goes flying through the air and gets slammed into the ground. His vision whites out briefly as sparks bloom behind his eyelids.

“Ah, fuck…” 

Hitoshi scrambles to his feet and stumbles forward, pushing through the dizziness. He’s just one giant ball of pain to the point he thinks he’s just going numb to it. He aims one last punch at Akiyama’s head, thankfully knocking him out before he also collapses on the ground. 

His watch beeps once to signal midnight and he has a moment where the thought irony washes through his head.

Happy fucking birthday…

Hitoshi wakes up to an explosion of pain and hovering voices overlapping.

“Hero…damaged…read it…”

“…card…pocket”

“Ingenium…?”

“…hero…? do…call?”

Hitoshi groans slightly and forces himself back to unconsciousness moments before his vision goes dark against his will.

Chapter Text

The next time Hitoshi wakes up, he’s in less pain. Not by much. But by some. His head feels stuffed full of cotton. Pleasant and fuzzy.

“Shinso!” he whines at the loud voice, “sorry,” the voice drops to a more acceptable volume, “you’re awake”

“Wha-?” he blinks. “…the fuck?” he stares at Iida Tenya’s face. 

“Language!” Hitoshi winces, “sorry…”

“What…” Hitoshi sits up, Iida’s hands immediately go to his shoulders to help guide him. He almost wants to push him off, but he actually doesn’t think he has the energy. “What happened?”

“I am unsure,” Iida says, chopping a hand down, “I must admit I was surprised to get a call from the Musutafu Police Department. But I guess you had my card in your pocket and your hero license was damaged beyond comprehension when it was fished out of the dumpster”

“Oh, shit,” Hitoshi wheezes, “Akiyama…”

“You have four broken ribs, a cracked sternum, broken nose, broken leg, two broken arms, and a severe concussion. When they found you you also had a dislocated knee, dislocated jaw, and a dislocated shoulder,” Iida sighs, “you were unrecognizable beneath the bruising. They brought in Recovery Girl, but she couldn’t do much because of your concussion”

“Yeah…sounds about right…” Hitoshi closes his eyes. “I must be on the good shit because I’m not in that much pain”

Iida looks mildly exasperated. “Language”

Hitoshi wheezes a laugh.

“Did I at least catch the guy?”

“You did. But he managed to escape while you were down”

“He’s a hard one,” Hitoshi groans. “Knows my quirk. Is out for blood after we busted up his drug ring. Ugh. Boomerang Man and Vantablack are gonna be pissed I went after him without backup after last time”

“Last time?”

“Mn. He figured out my old patrol route and ambushed me. Threw me off the roof of a building. I only survived because Vantablack shot out of nowhere and caught me seconds before I hit the ground. It’s hard fighting someone who not only knows what your quirk is and how to avoid it, but is pretty much immune to physical attacks because he is literally a fucking brick…” a memory jiggles loose from Hitoshi’s concussed and pickled brain 

Hitoshi sits up sharply.

“Shinso, please, you need to rest-”

“My name,” Hitoshi wheezes, “he knows who I really am”

Worry flickers across Iida’s face.

“What?”

“You didn’t tell us this,” Toteki’s voice is sharp where it comes from the door. “When did you find out?”

Hitoshi painfully turns his head to look at where Toteki and Kuroiro are standing.

“I told you not to go without backup, moron,” Kuroiro gripes. “Do you know what you looked like as they loaded you into the ambulance? A piece of bloodied meat”

“He’s dangerous, Shinso,” Toteki says, “he’s one of the only people who can withstand your quirk and he’s out for blood”

“Well he got it,” Hitoshi winces, “and he got away”

“I thought we agreed,” Kuroiro says with a frown, “we’d stop being reckless”

“I couldn’t let him get away again,” Hitoshi wheezes out.

“He did anyways,” Toteki says, “if you had waited for either myself or Kuroiro, perhaps he wouldn’t have”

Hitoshi leans back against the pillows and winces at a dull ache in his chest.

“When you said you wanted death as a birthday present I didn’t think you were serious,” Toteki adds. Iida chokes.

“Monoma has classes right now otherwise he’d be here too, but he sends his love,” Kuroiro gags. “He also wants you to know he’s going to kick your ass the next time he sees you, for being another reckless Class A moron. You look like shit, Mummy Man”

“Thanks. I feel like it”

“Ah, Mr. Shinso, you’re awake”

“Against my will,” Hitoshi responds.

“Please don’t get put on suicide watch for your comments again,” Toteki sighs, Kuroiro looks amused. “Last time it was a pain in the ass to get you out”

Iida looks concerned.

“Regardless,” the doctor doesn’t react to anyone’s words, “Mr. Shinso, you arrived in very poor condition. It is a wonder you’re alive”

Hitoshi opens his mouth only for Toteki to shoot him a glare. He closes it. 

“It took thirty-six hours, Recovery Girl, and a medically induced coma to keep you from dying,” the doctor shakes his head, “fortunately, you will make a full recovery”

“Great,” Hitoshi says flatly, “when can I leave?”

“We would like to keep you under observation for forty-eight hours. But you will need to remain on bedrest for the next week, and light activity for the month”

Hitoshi shrugs. 

He’s never listened to a doctor before. He’s not about to start now.

“Do you have someone to help you?”

“Sure,” Hitoshi lies. Toteki and Kuroiro shoot him identical looks, “I just want to go home”

“To that shithole you call an apartment?” Kuroiro raises an eyebrow, “no way. Do you even have a bed?”

“Sleeping bag”

“When was the last time you were even there?” Toteki raises an eyebrow.

“I shower there”

“I’m surprised you even have running water,” Kuroiro snorts. “I’d say you could stay with me but mine and Kinoko’s apartment doesn’t really have anywhere you could sleep”

“I don’t sleep”

“Shinso,” Toteki sighs exasperatedly.

“Toteki,” Hitoshi responds flatly. 

“Kuroiro,” Kuroiro grins.

“He can stay with me”

The three underground heroes look up, having briefly forgotten the fourth person in the room.

Iida’s cheeks are slightly pink and he has an arm raised at a ninety degree angle.

Hitoshi has only a moment to catch the gleefully exchanged glances between Kuroiro and Toteki and he bites back a groan.

“Fuck you both,” he hisses under his breath before adding in a normal voice, “as much as I appreciate the offer, Emergency Exit, I don’t need anywhere to stay”

“You cannot stay by yourself,” they all look up to see a nurse standing in the doorway. “Even with Recovery Girl’s aid, you suffered severe injuries. I cannot, in good conscience, allow you to be released without a guarantee that you have someone looking after you”

Hitoshi tries not to roll his eyes.

“Shinso’s building should be condemned anyways,” Toteki says calmly. Iida blinks. 

“It’s not like I spend any time there”

“Still. Don’t you have a mold problem?”

“Probably,” Hitoshi shrugs.

“And the rats?”

“They don’t care about jelly packets, never had a problem”

“The periodic leak from the apartment above?”

“Alright,” Hitoshi rolls his eyes, “I get it. You guys hate my apartment”

“It’s a death trap,” Kuroiro confirms. 

“And I’m never there”

“Well, you’re gonna be spending a lot of time somewhere until you recover,” Kuroiro frowns, “and your apartment isn’t any good, you should take Ingenium up on his offer,” he says slyly. 

Hitoshi shoots him a rude gesture.

“I do not mind!” Iida says, pushing up his glasses, “my apartment is big enough”

“Don’t you live in Hosu?” Hitoshi asks, “my patrol route is Musutafu”

“You’re not going on patrol like this,” the doctor frowns, “not for at least a month while the injuries heal”

“A month,” Hitoshi says flatly. 

He doesn’t think he can afford to be not working for a month. It’s not easy being an independent underground hero. 

He’s got something in his savings account, but it’s not much. For all that his apartment’s a shithole, he doesn’t fancy having to find another shithole to live in because he got evicted.

Hitoshi supposes he could go back to his vagabond existence but having access to a regular shower, even one that was perpetually either freezing cold or blisteringly hot, is something he’s grateful for.

“Whatever you need,” Toteki says, catching and holding his gaze. A silent conversation passes between them. “I mean it, Shinso, I can cover”

Hitoshi flicks a glance at Iida, who looks both concerned and like he’s doing his best not to eavesdrop.

He doesn’t know why he doesn’t want Iida to find out about his struggle as a hero. 

Maybe because Iida is so successful and Hitoshi exists on jelly packets and black coffee.

“If I agree to stay off duty for a month can I leave?” Hitoshi asks, knowing that agreeing doesn’t necessarily mean a promise that he will. It means simply agreeing with someone’s words.

“Don’t let him trick you,” Kuroiro scowls and Hitoshi glares, “he’s all about semantics. That sentence is loaded”

The doctor looks confused. Hitoshi hates that he has friends, especially ones familiar enough to call him out on his bullshit.

“I will ensure that Shinso stays off active duty,” Iida says, glancing between them. “And spends at least a month recuperating from his injuries” 

“Very well,” the doctor consults his chart, marking down a note. “As long as Mr. Shinso has someone to watch over him and prevent him from exerting himself, he is free to be released after a forty-eight hour observation period. Before he is discharged, I will go over a few things with you, Mr. Iida”

Iida nods, a serious cant to his chiseled features that Hitoshi knows means he’s not getting out of this. Iida is nothing if not responsible and conscientious. He’d probably tie Hitoshi down if he thought that he was a flight risk.

Hitoshi tries not to think about Iida tying him down. Not the time nor the place.

“You said Akiyama knew who you were,” Toteki says calmly, pulling Hitoshi back to the situation. The doctor has left the room, “do you really think you could defend against him the way you are now?”

“I need to stop him before that happens”

“Not when he nearly killed you twice!” Kuroiro glares. “And you were at full capacity then. I know you’re suicidal, but you’re not stupid”

Iida startles. “Shinso-?” he asks worriedly.

“Not important, Emergency Exit,” Hitoshi leans back and closes his eyes. “I’m not really suicidal”

He can feel the looks Toteki and Kuroiro are sending his way. 

“I’m going back to sleep,” Hitoshi says, forcibly ending the conversation. “Goodnight”

He closes his eyes and pretends to sleep. 

He’s not sure how long before he’s actually slipping off to sleep.

Chapter Text

Forty-eight hours later and Iida Tenya is standing in Hitoshi’s hospital room listening intently as the doctor lays out everything that he needs to know for babysitting Hitoshi. 

Hitoshi declines his offer of help getting out to the car and partially regrets it halfway.

His chest is aching something fierce and his leg is throbbing, but he keeps going partially out of spite and partially out of his sense of pride.

“Why do you need a car if you can just run everywhere,” Hitoshi closes his eyes as he sinks into the plush leather seats.

Iida’s car is not flashy, but it’s definitely luxury. 

“Because I cannot run everywhere,” Iida says, starting the car. An audiobook begins to play from the speakers. “It would be highly inappropriate to use my quirk like that. You do not travel using your capture weapon, do you?”

“Heh”

“Shinso!”

“Nah, I’m just messing with you. I have a bike,” Hitoshi says, glancing out the window. “You know you can always just don’t and say you did,” Hitoshi says, “I won’t tell the doctor if you drop me off at my apartment”

“The condemned one?” Iida asks, almost scandalized, “Shinso, that would be highly irresponsible of me! I have been tasked with ensuring you recover and I will fulfill it to the best of my ability”

“You didn’t even have to get involved,” Hitoshi responds, “if I had remembered to take your card out of my pocket you wouldn’t even be involved and I would be fine. Hell, you could even dump me off at UA with Monoma. I can just crash his place for a couple weeks”

“I am the one who offered to take responsibility”

“A month, Iida,” Hitoshi says, “you’d be stuck with me for a month. At least”

“I am aware. I was aware when I initially agreed as well”

“Why?” Hitoshi asks quietly, “we haven’t seen each other in six years”

“You are injured and need assistance,” Iida says quietly, “and despite it being six years, you were once my classmate and you are a fellow hero”

“So you’d do this for any fellow hero?” Hitoshi raises an eyebrow.

“But I wasn’t called for any fellow hero,” Iida says, “ I was called for you”

Hitoshi is a master with words and evasive verbal tactics, and he knows Iida evaded his actual question.

So does that mean Hitoshi is wrong?

“Your friends are bringing some of your things,” Iida changes the subject, “apparently they thought it best I didn’t go to your condemned apartment complex”

“It’s not condemned,” Hitoshi says, feeling offended on behalf of the shitty studio. It probably should be condemned though.

“From what it sounds like, it should be,” Iida voices Hitoshi’s thoughts.

“…maybe”

“Shinso,” Iida begins carefully. Hitoshi is immediately on guard, “are you…doing alright?”

“I’m in three casts and unable to patrol for a month,” Hitoshi says dryly, “what do you think?”

“No, I mean,” Iida hesitates, “other than that”

“I’m managing,” Hitoshi says quietly. 

Iida looks like he wants to say more but Hitoshi falls silent and pretends to sleep.

He wakes up to Iida’s large hand on his shoulder.

“We’re here, Shinso,” Iida says, carefully shaking him awake. Hitoshi hadn’t meant to actually fall asleep. Huh. “Do you want help getting out?”

“I can manage,” Hitoshi says, taking his crutches from Iida and struggling to his feet. 

Iida’s hands hover around him.

He tries not to whoop in triumph as he manages to maneuver to his feet.

Hitoshi carefully gimps his way next to a still hovering Iida. 

The lobby of the apartment complex is nice. Way nicer than most apartments in Musutafu. Especially in the area that Hitoshi patrols.

He feels gross and out of place. He hasn’t showered in a couple of days and his clothes are threadbare and faded.

The crutches squeak awkwardly against the marble floor as he follows Iida to the elevator.

Hitoshi stumbles as he leaves the elevator, nearly toppling over. Fortunately, Iida easily catches him before he can unceremoniously and painfully hit the ground.

He wonders if the concussion is still affecting his brain because all he can think of is that Iida has muscles for days. He can’t even wrap his hands around Iida’s biceps as the Turbo Hero steadies him.

“Shinso! Are you alright? Your face is red!”

“Uhh, yeah,” Hitoshi tries to fight back his apparently obvious blush, “just…overexertion”

“You should really be taking it easy,” Iida frets, “here”

“Whoa-!” Hitoshi will deny to the end of his days that he actually squeaked as Iida scoops him up with ease. 

His words are locked in his throat and he clutches at his crutches as if they can save him from insanity as Iida carries him down the hall. 

Don’t think about how strong he is. Don’t think about how strong he is.

Iida carefully sets him down as he pulls out his keys to unlock the door. Hitoshi lets out an amused sound as he lightly flicks the little race car keychain.

“You still have it”

“Oh,” Iida says, surprised, “I do!”

It was one of the few times that Hitoshi had been forcibly dragged out to socialize with his new classmates. The Dekusquad had dragged him out to the mall. 

Hitoshi had ended up wasting nearly 700 yen trying to get a cat figure from one of the capsule vending machines. 

He hadn’t succeeded, but he had ended up with keychain figurines that he gave away to his classmates. He had given Iida the race car, much to his classmate’s loud and enthusiastic happiness.

“We all do,” Iida says happily. “It was a gift from you”

Hitoshi can’t even blame the flush on his burning cheeks on exertion now.

“They were just silly capsule toys,” he rubs the back of his neck. Iida studies him, an oddly fond expression on his face.

“But they were a gift from you,” Iida repeats, “honestly, we weren’t sure whether you even liked any of us, so when you gave us the keychains it was nice to think maybe you kind of did”

Hitoshi feels a flicker of guilt and he looks at the ground.

“I did,” Hitoshi admits. “I was a pain in the ass in high school. I was angry and had a chip on my shoulder the size of Tokyo. The idea of friends, of teammates, people I could trust and rely on seemed so far from anything I could possibly have because of my quirk. How could I trust someone who didn’t trust me?”

There’s something sad in Iida’s expression.

“We did trust you, Shinso”

“I couldn’t see that. I spent so long being defensive I think I had forgotten how to lower my shields,” he still doesn’t quite know how to lower his shields, but he’s not about to say that. He rubs the back of his neck, uncomfortable with the emotional shift the conversation has taken, “but it’s all in the past,” he says, pushing the door to Iida’s apartment open, “give me the grand tour of my prison for the next month”

Iida’s gaze lingers on Hitoshi for a long moment, clearly aware that it’s a topic change and apparently wanting to say more.

“I would thank you to not call my apartment a prison, Shinso,” to Hitoshi’s relief, Iida lets it slide. 

“I’m stuck here with no way to escape,” he tilts his head back, “sounds like a prison to me”

“I do not recall you being quite this dramatic back in high school”

“Not even the times I provoked Bakugo into blowing a hole in the side of the training grounds? He was the only one who consistently fell for my taunts, honestly it felt mean to keep targeting him. But the alternative was Midoriya, who was just as bad about forgetting how my quirk worked and that just felt like hitting a puppy”

Iida sighs, but the corner of his lips tug upwards.

“I’m pretty sure Mr. Aizawa intentionally stopped having the two of you face each other after Bakugo nearly singed off his hair”

Hitoshi snickers at the memory of Aizawa staring at them in disbelief and disappointment with the left half of his hair smoking. 

He shakes himself out of his memory and glances around as they reach the living room. Surprise flickers through him although really he shouldn’t be surprised. Iida’s apartment could fit four of Hitoshi’s. 

He’s leaning on the crutches as he stares at the expanse of space.

It’s a large living room. One wall is entirely a sliding glass door leading onto a balcony. Iida has a navy blue couch with two matching armchairs circled around a glass coffee table and facing an oak entertainment system.

The wall behind the couch is filled with shelves covered in books.

“It’s like something out of a catalog,” Hitoshi grumbles, thinking back to his own shithole one room apartment. It’s convenient and cheap. He doesn’t actually spend much time living there anyways. His only furniture is his sleeping bag and a cheap plastic desk that he does paperwork on that he may or may not have dug out of a dumpster once.

“Thank you?” Iida glances at him. Hitoshi shifts on his crutches. “You should sit down,” Iida frowns, guiding Hitoshi over to the couch.

Hitoshi tries not to groan in relief as he sinks into the buttery soft leather.

He hadn’t realized how much pain he was actually in. 

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the prescription bottle the doctor had given him to tide him over until he could pick up his own.

The bottle says one pill every four hours or as needed. But maybe Hitoshi can take two pills and it’ll last eight hours. That would be nice.

He shakes loose two of the pills and dry swallows them, sinking deeper into the cushions.

Iida is…somewhere in the apartment. 

He had disappeared down another hallway and Hitoshi can hear him shuffling around.

Hitoshi can feel the painkillers swirling through his body and numbing all his aches and pains. 

Iida returns.

“Your friends should be here with your things shortly,” he says, glancing down at Hitoshi, “have you eaten anything?”

“I think I’d throw up if I tried,” Hitoshi answers, more honest than he would like. Iida frowns slightly.

“Perhaps something light then,” he hums, “miso soup?”

“Maybe they’ll bring me my nutrient jellies,” Hitoshi says, “they’re effective”

“Shinso! You cannot exist off nutrient jelly packs”

“Aizawa did it”

“As much as I do not wish to badmouth our former instructor, I cannot say that Aizawa is a shining example of a role model”

“Hey, I was his sidekick you know,” he complains, even though he knows Iida isn’t exactly wrong. It was only thanks to Eri that Aizawa became some semblance of a functioning adult.

“I am unsurprised,” Iida says, almost dryly, “you seem to take after him in many ways”

Hitoshi squints.

“I can’t even begin to tell if that’s a compliment but I suspect it’s not”

Iida simply smiles at him. Hitoshi huffs a laugh.

“Huh. You got some spice now, Emergency Exit, I’m impressed”

“It has been six years, Shinso,” Iida says, an almost teasing lilt to his voice. 

“Six years,” Hitoshi murmurs. He feels an almost crushing wave of self-loathing.

Six years and he doesn’t have much to show for it.

The police in Musutafu know his name, but are still somewhat wary of his quirk and he’s been on a few large busts, mostly drug rings and one human trafficking ring, but nothing that will attract attention except for the attention of drug lords and kingpins.

Not that he’s ever wanted attention. He learned early on in his hero career that no matter how many people he helps or how many villains he puts away, his quirk still makes people wary of him. Like Aizawa, his quirk relies on anonymity. Not only would he be ineffective as a limelight hero, but he wouldn’t be able to go anywhere without people shying away from him. Even if none of that mattered, Hitoshi would still hate media attention,

But he would at least like to feel more like a functional, semi-successful adult after six years. 

Instead, he spent nearly two years homeless, partially by choice, and now he’s paying rent in a should be condemned apartment complex for a studio apartment he doesn’t hardly see the inside of and taking security jobs to try and make ends meet. He has the lowest level of mandatory health insurance.

He supposes Aizawa had warned him about the unglamorous struggles of independent undergrounds, so he wasn’t completely blindsided, but still, hearing about it and experiencing it are two very different things.

“Shinso…?” Iida asks, a worried tone in his voice, “are you alright?”

Hitoshi snaps himself out of the melancholy pit before he can mire himself further in it.

“Yeah,” he says, “I’m fine”

Again, Iida’s brows furrow in suspicion and he opens his mouth.

Hitoshi is saved by a knock on the door.

“That’s probably your friends,” Iida says, glancing at Hitoshi before going to answer the door.

“Huh, Toteki was right,” a familiar, dramatic voice says, “this apartment is much nicer than Shinso’s shithole”

“Monoma,” Hitoshi groans as the blonde enters the living room, a battered grey duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

“When I heard you were shacking up with the Number Seven Hero, I had to see for myself,” Monoma teases, bending down and brushing a quick kiss to Hitoshi’s cheek in full view of Iida. “Kuroiro wasn’t exaggerating. You really do look like shit”

“Shut up,” Hitoshi groans, shoving Monoma away. Iida’s brows have traveled up his forehead, “why are you like this?”

“You’re really asking Monoma that?” Kuroiro grins, popping out of the darkness of his duffel bag and sliding to the floor like liquid, much to Iida’s visible alarm.

“Did all of you come just to bring me a duffel bag?”

“Toteki couldn’t make it,” Monoma waves him off, glancing around Iida’s apartment with interest. “And hey, that duffel bag contains half your apartment, you know”

Iida glances at the battered duffel bag inquisitively. Hitoshi sighs.

“I need new friends,” he drops his head back against the couch with a groan. 

Monoma pats his cheek and Kuroiro cackles.

Iida watches their interactions with an odd sort of amusement.

“You look worse than after the Emerald Gang,” Monoma says in a tone unusually serious.

“Not as bad as the fallout from the East Wingers though,” Kuroiro points out. Monoma shudders and rubs his shoulder in memory. 

Hitoshi notes Iida has left the room to give them privacy, for which he’s grateful for.

“Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum mentioned Akiyama knew who you were,” Monoma frowns.

“Yeah. He knew my name from the UA sports festival”

“Honestly,” Monoma huffs, “Aizawa’s done great things for the school, but that damn Sports Festival is not only painting a target on kids’ backs for the provisional licensing exam and giving villains an all access pass to the quirks and weaknesses of future heroes!” 

“The Sports Festival is the only reason I was able to become a hero,” Hitoshi points out, glancing at Kuroiro who is poking at a fake plant. 

“Yes, yes, that’s Principal Aizawa’s argument too…but they don’t have to televise it,” Monoma waves a hand, “and besides, with his changes to the Entrance Exam, it’s much more fair to kids without physical quirks. In fact, I have a kid who’s able to induce hallucinations in people by breathing out spores, and he was one of the top scorers in the Entrance Exam for Non-Physical Quirks. Took down ten people in the first three minutes alone. He actually reminds me a bit of you”

“Me?” Hitoshi raises an eyebrow.

“Determined to become a hero, but an absolutely surly little shit,” Monoma cackles. Kuroiro’s chortles come from beneath the coffee table as his eyes peek out of the shadows.

Hitoshi does his best to make a rude gesture, but it loses something at the fact his hands are wrapped in bandages.

Chapter Text

After Monoma and Kuroiro finally leave, Hitoshi allows himself to give into the fuzzy feeling of his painkillers. 

Even through the double dose he took, he can still feel the pain. He sinks into the couch and closes his eyes. 

His quirk has always led to bouts of insomnia. It’s a problem with mind-based quirks like his. So while his body aches and he’d like nothing more than to go to sleep for a year, or at least until he can breathe without it feeling like his ribcage is going to explode on him, his mind is still entirely awake.

Hitoshi eventually manages to drift into a gooey and uncomfortable half-sleep.

He’s woken up to Iida gently shaking him.

“You really should rest in a bed,” Iida says.

“Comfy…” Hitoshi says, closing his eyes again.

“Shinso, can you eat something?”

“Mn. In the morning.”

Iida sighs. Hitoshi feels his stomach flip as he’s lifted into the air. Panic shoots through him and he digs his fingers into Iida’s shoulders as his eyes open wide.

“I’ve got you,” Iida says, reassuringly, “I’m not going to drop you”

Hitoshi relaxes his grip slightly, wincing at the ache in his arms. 

“Shinso, you should probably shower,” he says with a raised eyebrow, carrying him down the hall, “you’ve been in the hospital. Do you really want to put those germs in your bed?”

“Everything hurts,” Hitoshi says, and winces at his honesty. Maybe the painkillers are risky. “Don’t think I could stay awake”

Iida hesitates for a moment. 

“…may I help you then?” he asks quietly. 

“Help me shower?” Hitoshi blinks dumbly. Iida nods. The thought of a shower is kind of nice. Hitoshi really does feel pretty gross. “Fine”

Iida nods. Something flickers across his face as he leans forward and sets Hitoshi on his feet in the bathroom and goes to the bathtub to warm up the water. 

Hitoshi fumbles with the hem of his shirt, unable to lift his arms above his head. He winces. 

“Let me help,” Iida says, gently guiding Hitoshi’s arms through the sleeve holes before lifting it over his head. He inhales sharply as Hitoshi’s shirt comes off.

“No wonder the doctor didn’t want you being on your own!” Iida chides, gaze assessing as he catalogs all of Hitoshi’s injuries.

Hitoshi glances at himself in the mirror.

His entire torso is covered in massive bruises and cuts in various stages of healing, painting his skin a rainbow of yellows and purples and greens and blacks.

“Ouch,” Hitoshi says flatly, tugging off his sweatpants. Well, at least his legs don’t look quite so bad.

Hitoshi sinks into the painkiller haze again, only idly aware of Iida leaving and returning with plastic wrap. He watches as his former classmate carefully wraps the casts in it before helping Hitoshi into the empty bathtub, leg cast propped up on the side.

“It is probably best not to submerge you entirely,” Iida responds, filling a cup with water and gently dumping it over Hitoshi’s head, running his fingers through it before repeating the action. “This is a pretty painful looking scar…” Iida’s hand ghosts over the largest mark on Hitoshi’s back, three deep scars that run parallel to each other from his shoulderblade to his lower back.

“Some asshole with swords for nails. I brainwashed his partner but he caught me by surprise,” Hitoshi murmurs. “That one hurt”

“Underground heroes seem to face more dangerous violence than limelight heroes,” Iida says softly. Hitoshi hums, leaning back against him as Iida gently scrubs shampoo through Hitoshi’s hair.

“Sometimes”

“It’s gotten long,” Iida muses. Hitoshi’s eyes flutter shut and he comes close to slipping into a doze at Iida’s hands in his hair.

He thinks if he were any more awake or cognizant of Iida’s hands on his body, he’d be having an unfortunate bodily reaction. Which would be absolutely mortifying considering Iida has been nothing but respectful and diligent. 

“Stay awake please,” Iida says, shaking him gently, “here, wash your front so you don’t fall asleep”

Hitoshi takes the soap that Iida hands him and carefully begins to wash himself, wincing as he brushes over his bruises.

“I feel like a punching bag,” Hitoshi mumbles. Iida huffs out a sound of amusement.

“From what it sounds like, you were used as a punching bag”

Iida covers Hitoshi’s eyes as he pours water over his hair, rinsing it out.

“Really, Shinso,” Iida says, “you should have waited for backup. If you’ve faced him before and the same thing happened…”

“I couldn’t let him get away”

“You could have died”

“I’m not easy to kill,” Hitoshi says, head lolling back against Iida’s hands carding through his hair. “Better villains than him have tried”

“I can tell,” Iida’s voice is almost sad, “you have quite a few scars”

“What heroes don’t?” Hitoshi asks.

“I think you have more than most,” he says softly.

“If I can’t brainwash someone immediately, I’m at a disadvantage and have to rely on hand to hand combat,” Hitoshi says, allowing Iida to lift him out of the tub and on to the fluffy bath mat. “Not exactly ideal. And yeah, underground heroes have to face some shit. Shit limelight heroes don’t. There’s no flashy villains or saving busses full of innocent kids…” 

Instead, there’s losing oneself in infiltrations and moments where they have to watch atrocious acts happen while waiting for the perfect moment to strike, because a traumatized victim is better than a dead one. There’s long, sometimes boring nights that they learn to be grateful for, because the alternative is facing the dregs of humanity and some of the most depraved individuals the world will never see. People also rarely notice when an underground hero goes missing for long periods of time, Hitoshi has enough scars from times when he’s been captured and tortured to prove that.

But someone has to do it. Someone has to save the people the world has deemed unworthy of saving. 

There’s no news cameras when a serial murderer mutilating prostitutes is taken off the streets. Nobody even bats an eyelash at them disappearing.

The only recognition he gets for stopping someone from robbing the 24-hour corner store owned by an elderly couple is a discount on groceries and free snacks and a coffee whenever he passes by on his patrol.

But someone has to do it. And as someone who possesses a quirk that could very easily have ended up with him being counted among those people deemed unworthy, Hitoshi doesn’t mind the few extra scars or the joints that ache when the weather changes, if it means he can make a difference.

Iida wraps a towel around Hitoshi and gently begins toweling his hair off. Hitoshi closes his eyes and melts into the touch. He hates the fact his hair is his weakness.

“I’m going to get you some clothes,” Iida says, leaving the bathroom. Hitoshi picks at the clingwrap around his casts, clumsily peeling it off.

He stares at his leg cast with a sigh.

“I brought this one,” Iida returns, holding out a pink hoodie with a black cat face on the front pocket and a pair of faded black sweatpants.

He has no idea how Iida knew which was his favorite hoodie. But he nestles into the soft pink fabric and flips up the cat-eared hood. 

Red eyes widen and a smile crosses Iida’s face.

“Cute,” he says, lightly flicking one of the ears.

“Thanks,” Hitoshi buries himself in the well-worn fabric and closes his eyes. “S’my favorite”

Iida wraps an arm around Hitoshi’s shoulders and guides him out of the bathroom and into a bedroom that is almost the same size as Hitoshi’s entire apartment. 

It’s a simple bedroom; a queen size bed with a grey and red comforter, a nightstand with a lamp and a dresser against the wall. 

Hitoshi falls onto the soft mattress with a quiet groan, exhaustion hitting him like a freight train. 

“Everything hurts,” he mumbles, blinking slowly. “I just want to sleep for a year”

“Goodnight, Shinso,” Iida says gently, brushing a hand through Hitoshi’s hair.

Hitoshi hums and nestles against Iida’s hand, eyes sliding shut. 

Chapter Text

Hitoshi wakes up feeling like he’s been run over several times and then set on fire.

A strangled sound escapes his mouth at the pain. 

He hadn’t taken more painkillers before falling asleep and he’s feeling it. 

A whine leaves his throat and he braces himself to get to his feet.

His world is pain. 

He remembers Aizawa going back to UA to teach barely a day after being attacked by the Nomu and his respect for the man nearly quadruples. 

“Shinso! You’re awake!” Iida says from the doorway. 

Oh yeah. Somehow the Number Seven Hero and his former classmate ended up as his caretaker. 

How mortifying. 

Maybe he should ask Monoma to copy a memory-wiping quirk. 

Could Monoma copy Recovery Girl’s quirk? Maybe he could do that…

“-so? Shinso?”

“Hi,” Hitoshi says, “what did you say?”

Iida crosses his arms in front of his broad chest, stretching his t-shirt to what has to be it’s limits.

“I said you should probably eat something,” Iida says.

“Gonna be sick if I do”

“How about miso soup?”

“…maybe. I need my painkillers,” Hitoshi gimps his way into the living room, eyes locking on the orange bottle left on the coffee table.

With a sigh of relief, Hitoshi pops two into his mouth and swallows them before sinking into the couch.

“Shinso!” Iida looks scandalized, grabbing the bottle and reading it. “You are only supposed to take one every four hours! How many have you taken?”

“It’s fine,” Hitoshi waves him off, “taking two at a time means I can wait eight hours instead. It’s more economical”

Iida looks at him for a long moment.

“Shinso, you do know that’s not how it works, right?” 

Hitoshi raises an eyebrow at Iida who sighs.

“Please just follow the instructions. You cannot mess with heavy medication like this! It is irresponsible and you could end up in serious danger”

Hitoshi groans.

“Ii-da,” he says, head lolling back against the couch. “It’s fine”

“I am amazed,” Iida shakes his head, “how have you not died?”

“I told ya, m’hard to kill,” Hitoshi grins lopsidedly.

Iida looks exasperated. 

“Please at least try to eat something small. I made miso soup last night that can be reheated”

“You’re really not gonna give up on getting me to eat something, are you?”

“You should not take painkillers on an empty stomach”

“If I puke, it’s your fault”

“It’s miso soup,” Iida goes to the kitchen, “it should be light enough on your stomach”

Hitoshi sighs and closes his eyes, napping lightly until he hears Iida return.

The miso soup really does smell good. And Hitoshi’s stomach grumbles. 

Feeling betrayed by his own body, he ignores Iida’s smug expression and takes the bowl.

“I do apologize,” Iida says, slightly guiltily once Hitoshi is done eating, “Midoriya discovered you were staying with me to recuperate. He wants to come over and see you. Of course, if you do not feel up to it I shall tell him so, but he has been worried since he heard about your injuries”

Hitoshi groans.

“What a mess,” he slumps into the cushions, “I wasn’t supposed to see any of you after graduation”

“Did you really dislike us that much?” Iida asks, a note of hurt in his voice that makes something ache in Hitoshi’s chest, aside from the injuries.

“No,” Hitoshi murmurs, “I didn’t dislike any of you. Maybe Bakugo. But I was still an outsider. Your class was incredibly close to each other. You guys had faced down life and death situations together. I know what that kind of bond is like now, and I understand a bit better. But I was just some General Education kid who ended up in the middle of it,” Hitoshi sighs, “you know, I had asked Aizawa to transfer me to Class B instead?”

“I did not,” Iida says quietly, “I apologize if we made you feel excluded, that was never our intent”

“No, I know that,” Hitoshi waves a hand, “and you guys weren’t mean or anything. It’s just the price of joining a group where friendships are already established, even more where it’s friendships forged through life and death”

Hitoshi thinks about his own relationships with Monoma, Toteki, and Kuroiro. Misfits, in their own ways, but misfits who had saved each other’s asses several times. They’d been tortured together, been drugged, patched each other up, gotten drunk together, and commiserated about the struggles of underground heroism. Hitoshi would trust any of them with his life in an instant, and he knows they feel the same way.

“I understand now better than I did back then”

“Monoma and the friends who visited you in the hospital?”

“Yeah”

“I…didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but, Monoma mentioned something about a gang…”

Hitoshi shrugs. 

“The world of underground heroism isn’t glamorous,” Hitoshi says, not wanting to go into details, “they know that better than most”

Iida hesitates, looks like he wants to say something more, but ultimately decides against it.

“I’m glad you have people in your life you can rely on”

Hitoshi grins lopsidedly at Iida calling any of his friends reliable. 

“They are when it matters the most,” Hitoshi murmurs. “I don’t care about Midoriya visiting. Do whatever”

“Shinso-”

“Ah fuck,” Hitoshi feels his stomach churn, “I’m gonna-”

Iida’s quirk is the only reason Hitoshi didn’t hurl the miso soup all over Iida’s nice couch and neat floor.

“Perhaps I’ll tell him not right now,” Iida says, holding Hitoshi’s hair back as he pukes up nothing but bile in the blue bucket. 

Hitoshi whines gratefully and slumps sideways against Iida’s chest, uncaring about the intimacy of their position. 

“…ow,” he rubs his aching chest. His whole body is throbbing again, the pain coming in dull pulses.

“Do you feel like you are going to get sick anymore?” Iida asks, rubbing his back. Hitoshi shakes his head. “Alright, stay here for a second,” he eases Hitoshi back on the couch and leaves.

The Turbo Hero returns with a glass of water and some tissues. Hitoshi swishes the water around in his mouth and spits it in the bucket, getting rid of the sour taste, before downing the rest.

“Sorry,” Hitoshi groans as he blows his nose into the tissue, “this is so disgusting”

“It is fine,” Iida responds. 

“Why couldn’t I have just died in peace,” Hitoshi sighs, closing his eyes and slumping against Iida’s chest again. The cotton of his t-shirt is soft against Hitoshi’s face. 

“Do not joke about that,” Iida chides.

“I never joke about death,” Hitoshi grins lopsidedly, “I am very serious when it comes to my hopes and dreams”

“Shinso!”

“Don’t worry, Emergency Exit,” Hitoshi clumsily pats Iida’s stupidly muscular thigh, “I haven’t achieved it yet”

“I am very glad that is the case”

“Just a matter of time,” Hitoshi’s eyes slide shut to Iida’s dismayed cry of his name.

Chapter Text

Iida had left for the day with an apology, something about having to deal with paperwork at Idaten, and made Hitoshi promise to call him if he needed anything.

Hitoshi has absolutely zero plans to call Iida for anything, even if he’s dying. Especially if he’s dying. He’ll quite happily die.

It’s kind of nice being left to his own devices. It’s been barely a full week since this whole caretaker business started, and Hitoshi is a little exasperated by Iida’s constant presence. 

Having gone from a relatively solitary existence, to being around someone 24/7 who seemed almost terrifyingly attentive to everything Hitoshi felt, was overwhelming as fuck. 

He’s taking the time to lounge on the couch and scroll through a few underground message boards, trying to catch up on anything he may have missed, when he sees a familiar reddish-orange skin color in one of them. 

Hitoshi clicks the post immediately.

It was shared by Searchlight. An older underground who worked with Aizawa occasionally. An incredibly skilled tracker with a wicked right hook and encyclopedic knowledge of knives and the human body.

Keep an eye out for this guy. He’s hunting down underground heroes. Won’t say who he’s looking for though.

He needs to go. He needs to find Akiyama and stop him. If he’s hunting down undergrounds because of Hitoshi…

Mentally apologizing to Iida, he goes into the room where he knows Iida keeps a toolbox and pulls out a heavy duty pair of wire cutters.

Sitting on the toilet, he clumsily begins to chop his way through the plaster, ignoring the ache in his entire arm.

Hitoshi winces as he pries off his cast and pauses to catch his breath.

Iida is gone for the day, so he doesn’t have to worry about being interrupted.

His phone buzzes several times before it rings.

Toteki’s name is emblazoned on the front. 

He’s pretty sure his friend has a sixth sense for when Hitoshi is about to do something reckless. So he ignores it. 

He’s halfway through his other cast when Monoma’s name flashes across the screen. 

Toteki got the others involved. Great. 

Fortunately, the three of them are in Musutafu. Even Kuroiro, the fastest of the three with his quirk, wouldn’t be able to make it to Hosu in less than an hour, and that’s being generous.

Monoma’s name flashes again and Hitoshi puts his phone on silent as he finally cracks off his other cast. 

He barrels through the pain as he begins to chip away at his leg cast. It takes a lot longer than either of his arm casts, but he keeps himself occupied by planning his route to Musutafu. 

He’ll have to stop by his apartment to get his uniform and his capture weapon, he’s a little disappointed his friends didn’t bring it for him, but he can understand. He probably shouldn’t be swinging from his capture weapon with his arms they way they are, but if he can just get to Akiyama and take him down, he’ll be fine. 

He’ll need to be fast. Faster than usual. And he’s learned that it’s not worth it to use Brainwashing on him. So he’ll have to rely on hand to hand. 

Perhaps that’s his problem, he thinks, struggling past a particularly stubborn chunk of cast. Aizawa always had a knife. Hitoshi also carried one, but he was never a fan of using them. Heroes were supposed to incapacitate while causing the least amount of acceptable harm and, in Hitoshi’s experience, knives weren’t the best for that. Also, in a fight, one’s knife could easily be turned against them.

But it’s been proven time and again that regular hand to hand won’t work on Akiyama.

Hitoshi finally manages to chop through his cast and he flexes his hands in relief.

Before leaving, he grabs his phone and his painkillers and slides them into the pocket of his bomber jacket. He thinks maybe he should’ve taken some before, but he doesn’t want to be impaired.

He opens the door, only to come face to face with an irritated-looking Iida Tenya.

“How did you-?”

Iida backs him up into the apartment and locks the door behind him.

“I must admit,” Iida raises an eyebrow, “when Yaoyorozu called me to tell me Monoma had called Kendo who called her, I was impressed at your friend’s tenacity,” he says, scooping Hitoshi up and holding him tightly. “I also, rather erroneously I realize now, thought that you would be in too much pain, or too immobile to try and make it back to Musutafu like Monoma feared,” he carries him into the guest bedroom and sets him on the bed, “I had also assumed,” Iida chops a hand down, brows furrowing, “that your logical side would win out and you would realize you are doing nobody any favors by going up against the man who put you in this state in the first place, when you are not even supposed to be out of casts and can barely walk! But Monoma clearly knows you well, because he insisted that I return home and check on you to make sure you were still here,” with each emphasized word, Iida’s arm comes down at a ninety-degree angle.

“Damn Monoma, I didn’t think he had any way of contacting anyone from Class A. I forgot Kendo and Yaoyorozu still talk,” Hitoshi sighs and scrubs a hand down his face. Iida’s eyes track the movement.

“Where are your casts?” 

“Bathroom,” Hitoshi sighs.

“How did you even get them off?”

“Easy. Heavy duty pair of wire cutters. Takes some time, hurt like a bitch, but it worked. I have a cast saw at my apartment, but I knew none of my friends would have brought it. Damn it!”

“Shinso, I know this is frustrating…”

“He’s going after underground heroes because of me!” Hitoshi explodes, getting to his feet, Iida’s only reaction to Hitoshi’s outburst is a blink, “people I’ve worked with for years! They already have to deal with enough shit without tacking on a villain out for blood. What if he went after my friends!? He knows who I am! He could easily figure out Monoma and Kuroiro. If he went after Monoma, he could endanger UA! And Komori is pregnant! If Akiyama figures out Kuroiro is married, he could go after her! I don’t know what he’s capable of or how far he would go to get to me,” he’s running out of steam, “I can’t…” a wave of exhaustion and pain crashes through him and he stumbles. 

“Shinso, Hitoshi,” the use of his first name stalls him out and Iida catches him as he nearly collapses, “this is not your fault. And what good would you be doing for anyone if you went and got yourself killed or permanently injured?” Hitoshi slumps against him, the adrenaline and determination and fear that had kept him going has fizzled out, leaving him exhausted and in pain, and incapable of keeping himself upright. Iida supports him easily. “Your friends, and the other undergrounds, don’t you trust them to take care of themselves?” Iida asks, “from what little you have said, underground heroes face worse things than one villain”

“A villain who turned me into a punching bag,” Hitoshi whispers, unsure when he started clinging to Iida like a lifeline, “a villain who knows who I am and how to counter my quirk”

“So maybe someone else, someone with a quirk he’s unfamiliar with, would be able to stop him”

“What if they can’t and he kills someone? What if he kills one of my friends? I can’t…I can’t lose them, Iida, they’re the only things keeping me going sometimes”

Iida’s hand gently cards through his hair. Hitoshi closes his eyes.

“We’ll address that later,” he says gently, but firmly, “for now, you need to trust that your friends, and the other underground heroes, are aware of him and know he’s dangerous. You won’t stand a chance against him in the shape you’re in right now. And how do you think your friends would feel if they lost you?”

These words take the remaining wind out of Hitoshi’s sails and he collapses entirely against Iida as his head spins nauseatingly. Iida simply shifts his grip, not even seeming the least bit strained at having to hold up Hitoshi’s deadweight.

The last thing he’s aware of before his vision goes dark is that Iida smells really good.

When Hitoshi wakes up it’s dark. He’s in a bed and feeling better than before, but he’s not alone. 

The bed has been pushed against the wall and Iida is asleep on the other side of Hitoshi above the comforter, trapping Hitoshi pretty cleanly.

In order to get out, he’d first have to wiggle his way out of the blankets pinned around him, then he’d have to find a way to get past Iida. 

He’s had plenty of experience sneaking out of people’s beds in the middle of the night without waking them. Although usually those people weren’t sleeping in the bed with the specific goal of keeping Hitoshi contained.

He assesses his options quietly.

The bed has a footboard, so Hitoshi can’t just slide off that way.

He could slowly shift his way over Iida. He’d have a better chance at getting over his feet than his stupidly broad torso.

First thing’s first, extract himself from the blankets.

He’s not sure how deep a sleeper Iida is, so he experimentally tugs. Iida doesn’t twitch. He tugs a little harder. Still nothing. 

Okay.

Hitoshi’s fingers carefully find the edge of the blankets tucked against the wall. He slips his fingers beneath them and slowly tugs them loose, casting the occasional glance over his shoulder to make sure Iida is still asleep.

Once he’s freed from the blankets, he lays still for a few minutes, listening to Iida’s steady breathing before carefully inching his way to the foot of the bed.

A hand shoots out a grabs Hitoshi’s wrist in a firm but gentle grip, even half-asleep Iida is cognizant of Hitoshi’s injuries.

“No,” Iida says, voice a deep, rough, sleep-laden rumble. Hitoshi feels blood rush to his cheeks. “You’re not leaving”

“I just need to use the bathroom”

Iida cracks open one red eye before sitting up with a slight wince.

“I will wait outside the door then”

Frustration flashes through Hitoshi.

“I don’t need to be babysat!”

“You cut your casts off with a wire cutter so you could make a two hour trip to go after the villain who knows who you are and nearly killed you,” Iida says, sliding his glasses on his face. 

Hitoshi glares. 

“Bathroom?” Iida gestures.

Honestly, if Hitoshi were a bit more alert, this would be far more mortifying. 

He shuts the bathroom door, notes that the remains of his cast removal operation have been cleaned up, and glances at the window. 

Not one that opens. And far too small for Hitoshi to squeeze through. 

He glowers at his pale and bruised features in the mirror, feeling helpless and inadequate. 

When he opens the bathroom door, he sees Iida shift. 

His former classmate turned caretaker slash current jailer had been leaning against the wall, dozing.

“Why are you going through all this trouble,” Hitoshi mutters as Iida sleepily follows him back to the guest bedroom.

“Because I care about you,” Iida responds, shutting and locking the door. “Because your friends care about you and they don’t want to see you get hurt again, or worse. The two who were there that night, Kuroiro and the other one, they saw you being loaded into an ambulance. They almost refused to let me into your hospital room” 

Guilt floods Hitoshi. Iida stares at him until Hitoshi crawls into the bed. Iida settles in next to him, above the comforter again.

“Goodnight, Hitoshi,” Iida says, already half-asleep, and the use of his first name coupled with the light brush of a hand against his hair shocks Hitoshi.

It’s only when Hitoshi is moments away from sleep that he realizes he could have just brainwashed Iida into letting him go.

Except…

Hitoshi casts a glance at Iida’s sleeping face. 

He long ago promised himself he wouldn’t use his quirk for selfish things. For whatever reason, Iida clearly trusts that Hitoshi won’t brainwash him, and regardless of his feelings about the situation, it would be wrong to use his quirk. 

Hitoshi looks at his phone.

Sends a message to his friends.

Are you guys okay?

At the affirmatives from the two he worries the most about, because he’s pretty sure Monoma is safest, being on UA’s campus, he allows himself to sink into sleep.

Chapter Text

Iida may be even more hovering the next day. Despite this, he’s taking a lot of phone calls and working on his laptop in the kitchen. Which gives him a vantage point of the hallway leading to the front door. He periodically pokes his head into the living room to check that Hitoshi hasn’t gone out a window or something.

Hitoshi had just finished responding to all his friends’ worried messages from the day before when a trending headline catches his attention. 

Turbo Hero Ingenium Sighted in Musutafu
Is the Number Seven Hero visiting his old alma mater or fighting crime? Ingenium, otherwise known as Iida Tenya, head of Idaten Hero Agency, was spotted in Musutafu late last night. Sources says that Ingenium was spotted using his quirk to travel from-

His phone rings, interrupting his reading.

“What?” Hitoshi huffs.

“Before I chew you out for what I know you did,” Monoma says, almost breathlessly, “he did it!”

“Who did what?”

“Your darling caretaker,” Monoma says teasingly, “he kicked Akiyama’s ass”

“What?” Hitoshi nearly chokes on his water. 

“He showed up last night out of nowhere and took Akiyama down with just a kick. Sent the guy flying into a cement wall so fast that the underground who witnessed it said she couldn’t even see it happen. Akiyama was out cold. He told her to take credit for the capture so she could get the pay from it before taking off again”

“He didn’t…he didn’t even mention that,” Hitoshi says faintly.

“Give your man a big kiss from us,” Monoma teases. “And tell him he made himself a new fan”

“It’s not-he’s not-we’re not…” Hitoshi flails. Monoma snorts, snickers.

“Seriously, Hitoshi, how many of the top ten heroes would travel two hours just to go after one small-time villain and not even stick around to take credit for it,” Monoma says, a patient tone in his voice, “it doesn’t matter that he can make the trip in a handful of minutes, what matters is that he did it. For you”

“I-” Hitoshi’s words die in his throat, “I was going to leave. I cut my casts off and he caught me before I could leave. He must have…it must have been after I passed out, since I woke up and he was there”

“You share a bed?” Monoma asks gleefully. “I’ll yell at you for being a moron later. Gossip first”

“No, not, not usually,” Hitoshi says, running a hand through his hair. “But he wouldn’t let me leave. I think he was afraid I would go after Akiyama again. He even stood outside the bathroom so I couldn’t escape”

Monoma cackles down the line.

“We need to buy the man a fruit basket or something for dealing with you,” he sighs, “if I had known all it would take was a handsome man in your bed to keep you resting when you should be, I would have offered myself a long time ago,” Monoma says, faux-haughtily.

“Shut the fuck up,” Hitoshi bursts out laughing at Monoma’s words. Iida pokes his head in, concerned. “You know, I’m hanging up now”

“No, wait, I haven’t yelled-”

Hitoshi ends the call.

“Everything alright?” Iida asks, tilting his head slightly.

“You didn’t tell me you went to Musutafu”

Iida stills.

“Ah,” he clears his throat and enters the living room completely, “I take it one of your friends found out?”

“Monoma was the one that called. Said to tell you that you have a new fan,” he feels his ears pink at Monoma’s other words, but he has other things to focus on. “Why? Why did you go after him?”

“I think you know why,” Iida flicks a pointed glance at Hitoshi’s cast-free arms. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Quite frankly, I got back, pushed the bed against the wall, and fell asleep right away. I was going to tell you today, but I haven’t had a moment of time”

Hitoshi stares at Iida. He has no idea what to say to this. He doesn’t know how to feel.

“Shinso?” Iida ventures.

“Sorry, just,” Hitoshi blinks, “I don’t know”

“Is it not better that he’s off the streets?” Iida asks, “that he can’t hurt anyone else?”

“Yes, but,” Hitoshi isn’t sure how to voice his thoughts. “It feels. Anticlimactic”

Iida looks thoughtful for a second before understanding dawns on his face and he sits on the couch next to Hitoshi.

“You mean because you weren’t the one to put him away?” Hitoshi nods. 

“I guess…I took things more personally with him than I thought I did,” Hitoshi says, slightly dazed at this revelation. 

“It happens,” Iida says reassuringly, “it’s not a bad thing. But it can be when it becomes a personal vendetta, when it crosses the line between wanting to put away a dangerous villain and revenge for something personal,” his tone makes Hitoshi think he’s speaking from experience.

“You didn’t take credit for it”

Iida flushes slightly, but nods. “She seemed young, younger than us, inexperienced. Her uniform looked…rather worn out. I remember you mentioning underground heroes get paid by the capture and,” he runs a hand through his hair rather awkwardly, “I know you were worried about taking time off patrolling, and your friend mentioned he could cover you…and you’re an experienced hero, I can’t imagine an underground hero just starting out. I figured she could use the money more”

Hitoshi just stares at Iida. His head is spinning but it’s not because of his injuries or his painkillers.

“I lived on the street for my first two years,” Hitoshi blurts out, unintentionally. Iida’s eyes widen. Hitoshi feels his face burn and he brings a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “Ah…yeah”

“You did?”

“Partially by choice,” Hitoshi sighs, looking out the balcony window. “I spent most of my nights patrolling anyways, and then during the day I just caught a nap wherever and paid for a gym membership so I could use their showers”

“Weren’t you Aizawa’s sidekick? Did he not say anything?”

“He tried, but he didn’t exactly have a leg to stand on since he did the same thing when he was younger. It was actually Monoma who finally kicked my ass into gear after we started taking on bigger cases. He said that if a villain came after me I would have more warning with an apartment than I would sleeping in a laundromat or napping in a library, and that I needed somewhere safe to store the case files we got”

Iida nods.

“So I bought the cheapest apartment I could find, got it even cheaper because I’m a hero, and now I mostly use it as a storage space for my bike, some clothes, and the locked box containing police files”

“I don’t mean to pry,” Iida says, “and I apologize if this is an inappropriate question, but, do you still struggle with income?”

Hitoshi shrugs.

“Undergrounds don’t get paid for publicity or for merchandise or anything. Independent undergrounds don’t even have a steady paycheck, we get paid when we work a case or when we capture a villain. Most find a way to make it work. Monoma works at UA and only patrols on occasion. Toteki’s grandmother left him a lot of money. Kuroiro is married to Komori Kinoko, Shemage, and she’s with an agency that pays her very well. Also, Kuroiro takes on a lot of cases, which tend to pay better. Because his specialty is recon, there’s more opportunities for him”

“And you?” he knows Iida realized he didn’t actually answer his question based on his tone.

Damn him for being so observant.

Hitoshi shrugs. 

“I have the highest capture rate of the Musutafu undergrounds”

Iida gives him a look that says he knows Hitoshi is still being evasive, but appears to let it slide.

“Why don’t you take on cases like Kuroiro?”

“My quirk is…requested for different reasons,” Hitoshi sighs, “infiltration, mostly, and hostage situations. Hostage situations are a little more rare. Usually I get roped into cases where I have to infiltrate a gang or a ring and brainwash the leader or higher-ups”

“That sounds like there are many things that could go wrong,” Iida frowns.

“Yeah,” Hitoshi laughs, but it lacks humor, “a few times it has”

Iida studies him before reaching out to run his thumb down the faded muzzle scars on Hitoshi’s face that he’s stopped bothering to hide over the years. His thumb is broad and calloused, warm against the bridge of Hitoshi’s nose.

“From a case?”

“Many things”

Iida looks troubled at that. 

“Hey, Iida”

“Hm?”

“Thank you,” Hitoshi says quietly.

Iida’s smile is unusually soft for the Turbo Hero.

“Now you have no excuse to not allow yourself to rest!” Iida chops a hand down.

“What about boredom?” Hitoshi drawls.

“That is no excuse! I can get you a crossword puzzle or something”

“Just fucking with you, Emergency Exit,” Hitoshi says. 

Iida sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Please, Shinso, must you use such profanity?”

Hitoshi grins before shooting a wink in Iida’s direction as he turns back to his phone.

Iida sighs and Hitoshi feels the couch shift as he gets to his feet.

“If you are really bored,” Iida says from the doorway, “perhaps we can go out for dinner tonight”

“Wow, a supervised outing,” Hitoshi says in a tone that’s as flat as he can make it, “don’t I feel special”

Iida looks exasperated. “Shinso, please-”

“Where to?” Hitoshi asks.

“Do you have a food preference?”

“Nah,” Hitoshi glances at his bruised arms, “usually I just exist off Caloriemate jelly packs and bars”

“You really are as bad as Aizawa,” Iida shakes his head. “Alright then, I will think of something”

A voice that sounds obnoxiously like Monoma bounces around Hitoshi’s head. 

You’re going on a daaaate

Chapter Text

Hitoshi knows this isn’t a fucking date. 

Yet he stares at himself in the mirror, trying to see himself from the perspective of someone who is not ninety-nine percent self-loathing and wonders if he looks good.

Despite the July heat, Hitoshi is wearing a long-sleeve grey and blue shirt with sleeves that extend past his fingertips and his one pair of jeans that aren’t faded or ripped, to hide his injuries. His hair has been swept into a ponytail at the back of his head and he hasn’t shaved in days so he’s a little more scruffy than he usually likes. 

He still needs the damn crutches, despite having sawed off his casts. Iida had forced him into a brace that came up to his knee.

“It’s not like you can get much better,” he tells Mirror-Hitoshi. He wonders if he should do something different with his hair before shaking his head violently, wincing at the motion. 

Monoma has gotten into his head somehow.

This is not a date. This is just dinner because Iida apparently noticed that Hitoshi’s cabin fever is making him climb the walls. This is the longest Hitoshi has been confined to one place in years, and for someone who is usually always on the move and rarely spends extended periods of time in one place, it’s making him feel itchy. 

At least he showered.

Iida is dressed much more for the weather; a short-sleeved salmon button-down that just accentuates the ridiculousness of his biceps and his forearms, but long jeans to hide his engines. 

“You look nice,” Iida smiles. Hitoshi snorts, tearing his eyes away from Iida’s forearms and where the band of his watch is still visibly distended despite being on the largest hole.

“You mean I don’t look like I rolled out of a dumpster for once,” Hitoshi says, leaning against the wall, “but you really do look nice. Good color on you”

“Thank you. And that is not what I meant!” Iida chops a hand down. Hitoshi snickers as he hops over to the door to fumble with getting his flip flop over the brace without toppling over.

When he looks up, Iida has a hat pulled over his head and a face mask on.

“Uh?” Hitoshi blinks.

“I do not wish to be recognized,” Iida says, “while I do love my fans, it can be rather inconvenient to be interrupted while I’m trying to eat. You would hate the attention”

“Does, uh, that actually work?” Hitoshi gestures to his own face. 

“Surprisingly, yes,” Iida says, pulling the mask beneath his chin, “my appearance is not so striking that I stand out, and most people seem to forget I have a face behind my Ingenium armor”

“Ah,” Hitoshi says. He had forgotten Iida was one of Japan’s most popular heroes. “That’s wild,” he says, grateful he doesn’t have to worry about disguising himself when he goes anywhere. “You’re right. I would hate the attention”

“It is very odd to me that you’re not hiding your features”

“Nobody knows who I am”

“It must be nice, sometimes, to not have to worry about being accosted by strangers when you’re trying to buy underwear”

Hitoshi snorts at that as he follows Iida out of the apartment. 

“Seriously?” his gaze follows the swinging of the little racecar keychain as Iida locks the door. The colors have faded over the years and it looks a bit worn, but something about it makes Hitoshi’s stupid little heart flop like a dying a fish.

“I started doing most of my shopping online after that,” Iida admits, pocketing his keys, “the underwear company actually contacted my agency and asked if they could use me in their promotions”

Hitoshi tries his damn hardest to not imagine Iida as an underwear model. But because he’s Shinso Hitoshi, he can’t keep his mouth shut.

“Yeah, you’d make a good underwear model,” he says blithely as the elevator dings in the parking garage, hopping out of it as soon as the doors open.

He turns back to see a red-faced Iida spluttering in the elevator, stunned so much that the doors actually close on him before he can leave.

Hitoshi snickers to himself.

The doors slide open and Iida marches out, still red-faced and a little put-out.

“That is not what they wished to use me for!” Iida says, swinging an arm, “they simply wished to advertise that I bought their underwear”

“So all of Japan knows what underwear you wear,” Hitoshi muses. Iida deflates.

“Unfortunately,” he says and Hitoshi bites back a laugh at how defeated he sounds, it’s almost adorable. “It has even come up in a couple interviews whether I prefer white or black ones”

Hitoshi snorts so painfully he chokes. Iida shakes his head, walking to his car. Hitoshi hopping along behind him in silence, content to let the subject die.

Only when they’re in the car and Iida is beginning to back out does Hitoshi speak again.

“So, do you prefer black or white ones?”

The sudden, startled brake check sends Hitoshi doubling over in painful laughter.

Iida’s disappointed look only makes him laugh harder, wheezing in pain as his broken chest bones cry out in protest.

Iida watches him laugh for a few moments before a small smile tugs at his lips.

“I’ll have you know,” Iida pulls out of the parking garage, “I don’t really have a preference”

Hitoshi wheezes, clutching his aching chest. 

His mind is suddenly assaulted with an image of Iida in underwear and he’s wheezing for an entirely different reason.

He lets his head hit the headrest.

Ah, he is so fucked.

Chapter Text

Iida drives them out of Hosu itself. Hitoshi blinks.

“Taking me somewhere to kill me and leave my body?” he asks casually. Iida looks at him with amusement.

“That was not on the agenda, no,” Iida says.

“Shame,” Hitoshi watches the other cars.

“Shinso, I feel like we need to talk about your rather dark sense of humor”

“What are you, my therapist?”

“A concerned friend”

Hitoshi sighs, knowing he’s weak in the face of genuine sincerity.

“It’s nothing, really”

“You express the wish to die quite frequently. And in the hospital your friend alluded to perhaps being suicidal?”

Hitoshi ruffles his hair and sighs again.

“Not…really,” Hitoshi says, “I think that comment was more directed to the fact that I tend to be more reckless. Of the four of us, I am definitely the one most likely to act first and worry about consequences on the fly. Kuroiro and Monoma are the planners. Or as Kuroiro says it, he is the Scheming Hero. And Toteki is cautious in everything he does”

“I would not have taken you for the reckless type,” Iida says.

“Well, when compared to people like Midoriya and Kaminari, no,” Hitoshi says, amused, “but they can get away with it. When you’ve got a quirk like mine, or Monoma’s or Kuroiro’s or Toteki’s, you can’t go rushing into a fight with no plan whatsoever. That’s how you get killed. But of the four of us, I am most likely to craft something of a plan with the expectation that I will have to throw it out the window and improvise, since my quirk has a pretty easy to exploit weakness”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Iida says thoughtfully, “but that doesn’t change the fact that you regularly make comments about wanting to die”

“So I’m a bit nihilistic,” Hitoshi says, “it’s not like I’m gonna jump in front of a train or anything anytime soon”

“I would hope not,” Iida says, the sincerity in his voice makes Hitoshi’s chest ache.

“Thanks for worrying about me, Emergency Exit,” Hitoshi says. Iida sends him a smile.

The rest of the drive is relatively silent and Hitoshi listens to the audiobook playing out of the speakers as he sees a sign.

Tooin City.

A slightly larger city than Hosu, known for it’s easygoing and laidback sort of vibe. Everyone in Tooin tends to be very casual.

“Tooin?”

“There is somewhere here that I think you will like,” Iida smiles.

“You’re not gonna tell me?”

“No. It should be a surprise”

“Alright, Mr. Mysterious,” Hitoshi snorts, “have it your way”

“Thank you,” Iida sounds almost smug. Hitoshi rolls his eyes and hides his smile by looking out the window. “I used to patrol here, back when I first started with Idaten”

“Not Hosu?”

“I would alternate with another hero at Idaten. I thought it was the best way to help more people”

“And was it?”

“Yes and no,” Iida turns down a street in the downtown area, “Idaten has always emphasized teamwork. The goal is to have people with quirks that have a single strong point so we can deploy the right people in the right places!”

“What do you mean?”

“For example, let’s say we have a villain with a fire-based quirk, Idaten would send out a team of heroes and sidekicks with water and ice type quirks to work together to bring them down. Or in the case of an earthquake, we’d send heroes who were specialized in search and rescue as well as evacuation. We also rely heavily on behind the scenes staff, searchers and navigators, as well. It made it difficult when we were splitting between two cities”

“That’s…pretty cool actually,” Hitoshi blinks. Iida puffs up with pride.

“It was my brother’s ideal, his legacy, and I intend to uphold it!” Iida turns thoughtful, “you know, we don’t really have any mental-based quirks, now that I am thinking about it”

Hitoshi bites his tongue and looks out the window.

He knows why people think a quirk like his is villainous. He’s met more villains with some kind of mind-based or control quirk than he’s met heroes. 

He doesn’t want to think about that, much less mention it to someone like Iida.

“Shinso?”

“Nothing. Lost in thought for a second”

“Care to share?”

“Just about my quirk”

Iida looks at him briefly but the light changes and he looks back at the road.

They drive in silence a bit longer before Iida is pulling into a parking lot behind a small building.

“Where are we?” Hitoshi queries as Iida feeds the meter like the responsible citizen that he is.

“I told you, it is a surprise,” Iida says, leading him to the front of the building.

“A cat cafe!?” Hitoshi will deny he squeaked, “I haven’t been to one in ages!”

Iida’s laugh is warm and deep.

“I had hoped you still liked cats,” he pulls open the door and ushers Hitoshi inside. “I used to patrol by here and would think of you”

Hitoshi tries not to blush at Iida’s casual admission that he thought about him. 

What does one even say to that?

Fortunately, he’s saved from having to respond by the furry creatures lounging throughout the room. 

They remove their shoes and take the proffered slippers. 

Hitoshi makes a beeline for the center table, where there seems to be the highest concentration of cats. He sprawls facedown to make eye contact with a lazy orange cat, running his fingers along the ground for a white adolescent to pounce on.

He glances at Iida, who looks a little confused by several cats already curling up on his legs.

“Your engines,” Hitoshi points out, “they’re warm. Cats love warmth”

“Ah,” Iida nods. “I have always wondered about how sanitary a place like this is,” Iida hesitates before resting a stiff hand on top of a tortoiseshell’s head.

Hitoshi shrugs.

“I don’t think most people come here for the food itself” Hitoshi says from his sprawl on the floor. An orange tabby plants itself in the center of his back. He winces slightly at the pressure.

Iida looks amused, pulling out his phone and snapping a photo, which he shows to Hitoshi. 

Hitoshi groans and hides his face.

“You know I’ve managed to avoid photos since UA?” Hitoshi says. He wants to prop his chin in his hand, but his arms hurt too much to do anything but lay flat. “And now you’ve managed to break my streak”

“I can delete it if you wish?” Iida says, seriously. Hitoshi can’t help the stupid twinge of fondness.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I’m just fucking with you”

“We are in a public place!” Iida chops a hand down, “please cease with the profanity”

Hitoshi snickers. He feels another cat settle on his lower back. A brown kitten pads over to him on clumsy legs and plants a paw on his nose. He goes cross-eyed trying to see it and Iida’s phone makes another soft shutter sound. 

He’s in heaven. Soft and fluffy heaven. 

“Maybe I really am dead,” Hitoshi muses, closing his eyes, “and I’m now in heaven”

Iida’s laugh sounds almost fond.

They stay for a couple of hours, and Hitoshi takes hundreds of photos, before Iida decides it’s actually dinner time otherwise Hitoshi would probably spend the night.

Hitoshi pretends to whine about leaving, channeling his Inner Monoma, but he thanks Iida when they’re in the parking lot.

They end up at a yakitori place nearby and Hitoshi scrolls through the photos of all the cats, sending several to the group chat with his idiot friends.

He glances at the last photo in his gallery, taken without the subject’s knowledge. Iida with eight cats curled around his legs and cradling a tiny kitten in his large palm, looking almost mesmerized, the harsh lines of his face softened.

It makes his stupid squishy heart do a little flip.

He’s not oblivious, like Monoma likes to tease him about, he knows when he likes someone. 

Somehow, in roughly a week, Iida Tenya had coddled his way from a former classmate slash stranger to, at the very least, a crush.

Hitoshi also knows it’s a terrible, terrible idea and he really should nip it in the bud.

They are on two entirely different ends of the spectrum. In everything. Iida is a limelight hero from a rich family with a long heroic lineage, he’s in the top ten, living in a big city and running an agency he inherited. Hitoshi’s a former foster kid turned probably depressed underground hero barely making ends meet, who’s apartment is barely livable, and despite six years of working with the Musutafu police, they are still wary of his quirk.

Iida is incapable of deception; straightforward, honest, noble. Hitoshi’s quirk relies on deception and provocation, his existence depends on half-truths and evasive circumlocution. 

If Hitoshi wants to be particularly poetic, he would say that Iida is like the sun: bright and warm and honest and Hitoshi is like the moon: cold and distant and deceptive.

In another life, another situation, he’d give into the burgeoning crush and hook up with Iida before never seeing him again.

Unfortunately, he’s stuck with him for a month. And even then, Iida is not some stranger he can fuck once and forget. 

He doesn’t even know if Iida’s interested in men. His first guess would be no. But it’s not like Iida would be the first of their class to be some sort of queer, no that goes to Yaoyorozu and Jirou and Bakugo and Kirishima.

Hitoshi had been pretty sure Shouji and Tokoyami had a thing, but then Shouji started dating the exchange girl from Class B, although he doesn’t think that lasted.

He had not kept up much with his former classmates, but he knows CreatiPhone and DynaRiot are still going strong at least.

His mind wanders to what they’d call him and Iida before slamming the lid on that line of thinking.

That way lay madness. 

Chapter Text

It’s been two weeks since Hitoshi has been sequestered. 

Sure, Iida takes him out to get food and a couple times they went to a museum and watched a movie.

But Hitoshi is beginning to climb the walls. 

He hates being idle. He wants to be out there patrolling and taking down villains. He wants the rush of the fight and the feeling of watching the city at night.

Hitoshi finally sees his chance. 

Since taking down Akiyama, Iida has reverted to his original level of hovering. Which means he still leaves to go to Idaten and occasionally on patrol. 

Hitoshi jealously watches his exploits on the television.

He knows Iida has a double patrol scheduled. Something about a lead on a villain they’ve been tracking for awhile. He’ll be gone Saturday and Sunday, most likely sleeping at Idaten Headquarters.

Hitoshi pretends to sleep Saturday morning until he hears the door close behind Iida. 

He finds a note stuck to the coffee pot in Iida’s handwriting and attached to a credit card.

Shinso,

I’ll be gone two days. I am very sorry about this as I know I promised to take care of you. There should be leftover miso soup in the fridge along with chicken curry. There’s takeout menus in the drawer by the sink. Please stay safe and call me if you need anything at all. I will see you Monday evening!

-Iida

Hitoshi flips the credit card around and something warm swells in his chest. Stupid considerate men.

This is not helping Hitoshi’s stupid crush. 

He sets the credit card on the counter, as sweet as it is, he has no plans to use it.

He checks the train schedule for Musutafu and grins to himself. 

Two hours there, patrol tonight, be back tomorrow long before Iida even realizes he ever left.

He quickly gets dressed, pockets his wallet and his apartment keys, and grabs the spare key from the drawer.

Hitoshi actually spends the money on a cab to take him to the station, wanting to conserve as much energy as he can for tonight. 

He sleeps on the train and gets yet another cab to drop him off at his shitty apartment. Said shitty apartment smells like mildew and dust and he opens the window with a creak.

It’s still early, too early for patrol. 

Hitoshi unrolls his well-loved and incredibly comfortable purple sleeping bag, a gift from Aizawa when he graduated, and wiggles his way inside with a sigh of contentment. 

This is normal. This is Hitoshi’s shitty life. 

Not playing the part of a house pet or kept man at some mansion apartment in Tokyo. 

Sure, he can hear the rats in the walls and the floor is making his body hurt, and the mildew is irritating his lungs, but this is as good as it’s ever gotten and there’s something comforting about the rhythmic drip of his broken faucet. 

It’s proof he didn’t become another villain quirked foster kid statistic.

He sets his alarm and falls into a fitful, unproductive sleep. 

When he wakes, he’s achey and tired. He pops a couple painkillers and pulls his hero costume out of it’s box, grateful his friends had apparently washed it and repaired it from his encounter with Akiyama.

The weight of the Persona Chords and capture scarf around his neck is comfortingly familiar.

His leg is a bit swollen, so his boots are a bit of a struggle to pull on, but eventually he’s ready.

Hitoshi winces as he lands on their usual meeting place rooftop. He knows his friends are going to chew him out over this. But he can’t help it.

“Does your man know that you’re here?”

“Phantom Thief,” Hitoshi stands up. Of course Monoma would be patrolling tonight, UA doesn’t have classes on Sunday. Monoma is staring at him, eyes narrowed. “Does it matter? And he isn’t my man”

“Of course it matters!” Monoma throws his hands in the air, “you nearly died. You had traumatic brain swelling. You were told no patrolling for a month and how long has it been?”

“Three weeks, close enough”

“It hasn’t been three weeks,” Kuroiro snorts, emerging from the shadows. 

“This is the third week”

“Still only been two weeks,” Kuroiro sing-songs.

“Is Mindjack being an idiot again?”

Monoma sighs as Toteki lands soundlessly behind them. “When is he not?”

“I’m going crazy,” Hitoshi admits, “I can’t be cooped up like that. It makes me feel like a pet or something. I need to do something, be out here, patrol”

His three friends exchange a glance before Monoma sighs.

“Fine. Then you’re staying with one of us,” Monoma says, “I have Iida’s number and I will use it”

“Fair,” Hitoshi concedes, the trip from Hosu to Musutafu tired him out as it is and his nap made him sore. He doesn’t think he’d be anything more than a liability on his own.

“Stay with me then,” Monoma hums, tapping Kuroiro’s hand, then Toteki’s, then Hitoshi’s. His skin shifts to black. “You can fill me in about what it’s like living with the Number Seven Hero”

“That’s never not disconcerting,” Kuroiro mutters, watching Monoma’s skin change. Monoma winks as he sets the timer on his stopwatches to one hour.

Hitoshi shrugs, but follows the familiar ritual of testing out  their radios. 

Monoma sinks into the roof shadows before popping out a little ways away. 

“Reconvene at our north spot in an hour?” Monoma queries. The others agree before setting off.

“Good to have you back,” Toteki claps Hitoshi on the shoulder. 

“Good to be back,” Hitoshi responds, flexing his gloves as he follows Monoma off the roof. 

He has a good feeling about this.

Chapter Text

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?” Monoma screeches, changing the trajectory of the blade he threw back at their enemy after pulling it from his own arm. Hitoshi jumps out of the way of their enemy’s bladed attack with a wince.

He’s going to be in so much pain tomorrow but he pushes through it, striking out his capture weapon and immobilizing the villain’s legs.

Their patrol had been going pretty peacefully, all things considered, until Monoma had barely dodged several blades flying through the air and they had been faced with a villain unlike any they had ever seen lunging towards him.

The villain is massive. At least two hundred centimeters, probably closer to two-fifty, and just as broad. Several large, pointed spikes jut out from the skin around his neck and down his spine. His arms are covered from fist to shoulder in excessively sharp blades that he can apparently fire from a distance.

Now, Monoma has a large gash on his shoulder and a smaller one on his cheek. Another blade had grazed Hitoshi’s bad leg. They had called Toteki and Kuroiro quickly when they realized they were out of their depth alone. 

The villain apparently doesn’t speak, or won’t speak, because neither Hitoshi nor Monoma can get a response no matter what happens. 

Hitoshi has had success recently, catching a hold on a breath or a sound, but it’s a weaker hold and he’s also trying to dodge blades and work past the limitations imposed by his body, so he’s not exactly paying the closest attention to sounds.

“Vantablack!” Hitoshi shouts, “get him to make a sound!”

“Got it,” Kuroiro grins, slipping back into the shadows.

Kuroiro sneaks up underneath the massive man and Hitoshi tries not to snort at the groin shot from below.

The villain growls and jabs his massively bladed fist into the concrete and Hitoshi latches onto the growl and brainwashes the villain.

“Nice job!” Toteki lands next to him.

Hitoshi grunts, fighting to strengthen his control. 

What is it with these massive villains being a pain in the ass to brainwash?

“Somebody tie him quick!” Hitoshi grunts.

Toteki is already on it, pulling a pair of quirk-suppressing handcuffs from his pocket.

He has one handcuff around the villain when the ground shakes and Monoma is grabbing Hitoshi out of the path of what looks like a giant boulder, distracting Hitoshi and breaking his tenuous control.

“Sorry,” Monoma grunts.

Toteki barely manages to dodge, leaping onto a fire escape.

“What the hell was that!?” Kuroiro screeches from where he’s flattened himself into the sidewalk’s shadows.

Seconds later, a silver blur slams into the bladed villain, knocking him out. 

“Well, that’s one way to do it,” Toteki observes.

Monoma helps Hitoshi sit up. 

“You good?” he winces.

“Been better,” Hitoshi groans with a lopsided grin. “You?”

“Good thing I don’t have to teach tomorrow,” Monoma sighs, hanging his head between his knees. Hitoshi chuckles, exhilaration and adrenaline pumping through his veins.

“Where did the boulder come from?” Toteki asks, glancing at four sidekicks who are restraining the villain. “One of them I’m guessing…?”

Monoma glances around, opening his mouth.

His voice isn’t the one that speaks.

“Shinso?”

“Uh oh,” Kuroiro snickers behind him.

“Uh,” Hitoshi blinks. 

Seriously? 

Ingenium is standing in front of him in full armor. 

“Oh you know this guy, Ingenium?” one of the four sidekicks, a blonde with a green aesthetic queries.

“We were…classmates,” Iida’s voice is irritated, “he’s actually supposed to be on bed rest this month due to severe injuries!”

“Oop,” the girl giggles before bouncing back to a young man with a blue aesthetic to finish clean up.

“Well this just got interesting,” Monoma grins almost manically. Toteki sighs and shakes his head.

“Only you, Mindjack, only you”

“What are you doing here?” Hitoshi asks, ignoring his friends.

“I could ask you the same thing”

“Patrolling,” Hitoshi shrugs nonchalantly, like he hadn’t just snuck out of this man’s apartment where he was supposed to be on bed rest.

“You are impossible,” Iida sighs. “Look, we’ll talk about this at home,” he chops his hand in the direction of Hitoshi’s friends. “Watch him, please, and make sure he doesn’t do anything else he shouldn’t”

Hitoshi watches Iida walk off. 

“Someone is sleeping on the couch tonight,” Monoma snickers. Hitoshi elbows him. 

“Why didn’t you tell us his apartment was your home now?” Kuroiro teases, “we’ll talk about this at hoooome”

“Both of you shut up, let’s go”

“Nuh uh,” Monoma stops him, a hand on his shoulder, “you know that he’ll just come after you when he realizes you’re gone. And he’s a lot faster than you, especially right now,” Monoma sharply taps his knee.

Hitoshi yelps in pain and collapses on it.

Iida’s head whips over. 

Monoma shoots him a thumbs up, patting Hitoshi on the head.

“You’re an asshole,” he’s clinging to Monoma’s shoulders.

“I know. So are you,” Monoma says, sweetly. “It’s why we get along. Now sit.”

Hitoshi slumps back onto the curb. Toteki pulls out his first aid kit and begins patching Monoma up. 

The police arrive and they have to give their statements.

Somehow the media got wind of this and started showing up, shouting questions at Iida and his sidekicks.

Hitoshi doesn’t give a fuck about Iida right now, he is not going to end up in the media. He knows his friends feel the same, so he gets to his feet and slinks behind the building like a cat. Kuroiro and Monoma disappear into the shadows and Toteki runs.

They reconvene in the parking lot by the 24-hour convenience store.

“Oh, Mindjack”

“Hello, Mrs. Yamanaka,” Hitoshi says to the elderly woman who has emerged at his presence. “How goes it?”

“Same as every night dear,” she pats his cheek, “I haven’t seen you around for some time. I was worried,” she tsks, “you boys look a little rough…why don’t you come in for some coffee? I think we may even have a couple of pastries left”

“Thank you,” Hitoshi bows. “It would be much appreciated”

Eventually they’re settled back on the curb outside the store with bad coffees and cheap microwaveable pastries. Monoma, skin beginning to fade back to normal, grimaces at his and passes it off to Kuroiro, who wolfs it down. 

Hitoshi realizes he’s been chewing on the same mouthful of sickly sweet pastry for at least a minute, but can’t find the energy to swallow it.

“Oi,” Kuroiro nudges him and he swallows, looking up. 

Iida is walking towards them, still in his armor but with his helmet off, a determined expression on his face.

“You left,” Iida says, stopping in front of him and chopping a hand down.

“The media frenzy is a bad look for undergrounds,” Hitoshi says tiredly. “And you’re going to bring them here”

“Boys, is this a new friend?” 

“Ah. Mrs. Yamanaka,” Hitoshi sighs, “we were classmates in high school”

She adjusts her glasses. “My, what a handsome young man you are”

“Thank you ma’am,” Iida bows stiffly, clearly flustered.

“Ooh and a polite one too. Would you like some coffee?”

“P-Perhaps another time. I need to talk with S-Mindjack”

Mrs. Yamanaka nods conspiratorially, looking sly.

“How sweet”

The door closes behind her and Monoma bursts out laughing. He collapses into Hitoshi’s lap. Kuroiro is snickering and even Toteki looks amused. 

“I hate you all,” Hitoshi slumps forward, face landing on Monoma’s heaving stomach. 

“Shinso, please, come with me so we can talk”

“Why? You don’t control me,” Hitoshi snaps, getting to his feet, the pain and exhaustion piling up, “we’ve only been reacquainted with each other, what, two weeks? Despite what it may seem like, I am a grown adult. You don’t get to go around acting like you’re my parent or my, my partner or something!” Iida recoils slightly. Monoma’s laughter has stopped abruptly. 

“Excuse me for caring about you! For worrying about you and wanting you to be safe,” Iida responds sharply, “I was tasked with making sure you got better-”

“Tasked, huh?” Hitoshi sneers, “you were tasked with making sure I got better. Well, I’m sorry it’s such a chore, but you shouldn’t have volunteered-”

“That is not what I meant and you know it!”

“Do I?” Hitoshi fires back, “face it, Iida, it’s been six years since we last saw each other and even then, what did you know about me?”

“You want a list?” Iida retorts.

“Go ahead,” Hitoshi challenges. Iida’s red eyes blaze.

“Fine! I know that your favorite color is not purple like everyone assumes, it’s pink. You claim you don’t have a favorite food, but I saw you eating salty licorice in the dorms several times. English was your favorite subject which you claimed was because they had the best swear words, but don’t think I didn’t see you talking to Tsunotori and Mic in English. You know JSL and only Koda was aware of that because you would speak with him in JSL since he was more comfortable that way. You’re ambidextrous, but you only write with your right hand. Until the end of our third year, you would phrase questions as sentences around everyone but Aizawa. You like bicycling. I also know it was you who left apple flavored jelly candies on Tokoyami’s desk for his birthday, and that you knew everyone’s birthday and always got them something anonymously that you left on their desk, but thought nobody knew yours,” Iida points, “it’s July 1st, by the way. You cared about your Class C classmates, even after you made it into the Hero Course, you sat with them at lunch more often than with anyone in Class A. For some reason, you want people to think you don’t care about anything or anyone, but your reaction to Akiyama going after the other undergrounds says otherwise, and so does your fear that he would target your friends specifically. How am I doing so far?”

Hitoshi is stunned into silence. 

Monoma’s jaw is hanging open and Kuroiro’s eyes are huge. Toteki is staring at Iida.

“How-?”

“I told you before,” Iida says firmly, “I care about you. And as class rep, I made it my duty to make sure that I knew what my classmates were like, so I could better help them if they needed it”

“He’s intense…” Kuroiro sinks halfway into the sidewalk. Toteki nods.

Hitoshi bows his head, an almost hysterical laugh escapes his lips. 

“I don’t know what to do with any of this!” Hitoshi says, desperation and uncertainty coloring his tone. “Be honest with me, Iida, what do you want from me?”

Iida hesitates. He closes his eyes and sighs.

“I did not want to do this now, I wanted to wait until you were better and the imbalance of you needing my help was no longer there. And I certainly did not want to be shouting this conversation in a parking lot at four in the morning in front of an audience”

Hitoshi feels the breath get caught in his throat. 

“Fine,” he says quietly. “We can have this conversation later. When we’ve both rested and we’re not in public”

“Thank you, Shinso,” Iida runs a hand through his hair. “I am not at my best right now”

“Yeah me neither”

“I will be back at the apartment later today, tonight, really. Please, go back. Do not be out here still injured”

Hitoshi bows his head, admitting defeat.

“I don’t think I have much left in me anyways,” he says, leaning against Monoma, who had stood up with him. His friend is less solid than Iida. 

Silence falls over them.

“Do you boys want some more coffee?” the bell jingles and Mrs. Yamanaka yells from the doorway.

Chapter Text

Monoma drives Hitoshi back to Hosu. The ride is uncharacteristically silent. Toteki is sleeping in the backseat to keep Monoma company on the long drive back to Musutafu.

“You know he has feelings for you, right?” Monoma finally breaks it an hour into their drive. Hitoshi runs a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know for sure”

“It’s obvious, Shinso,” Monoma shakes his head, “and if it wasn’t obvious before tonight, his words all but confirmed it”

“I don’t know why he would,” Hitoshi says, “he can do so much better. Besides, what kind of feelings can develop in two weeks?”

“It sounds like he’s had these feelings a lot longer than two weeks,” Toteki yawns. “I’d wager since high school”

“You know,” Monoma hums, “I don’t remember you being interested in anyone in high school”

“I wasn’t…” Hitoshi sighs, “I thought he was attractive, yes, but I only cared about becoming a hero. I didn’t have time for crushes or feelings”

“Sounds about right,” Monoma muses. 

Toteki leans forward against the console, dark hair falling over his face as he regard Hitoshi with his ever-present calm expression.

“And now?” he asks.

Hitoshi exhales.

“A stupid crush, I thought,” Hitoshi says quietly. “I figured I’d just keep it to myself and these feelings would go away eventually. Once I’m back in Musutafu and he’s in Hosu, and we’re not seeing each other all day every day, that I’d forget about him and be able to move on with my life”

“Is that what you want to do?” Toteki asks, dark gaze boring into Hitoshi in that uniquely penetrating way he has. Steady and patient and sometimes incredibly irritating. 

“I don’t know anymore”

“I think you should talk to him then,” Toteki says, sitting back, “tell him all this. Because the guy clearly has feelings for you”

Hitoshi looks out the window. 

“Toteki is right,” Monoma says, “we know you’re allergic to feelings,” Hitoshi sends a rude gesture in his direction, “but I think you have to face these ones. If for no other reason than to let him down”

“You know it’s bad when Monoma is talking sense,” Toteki says. 

“Hey!”

Hitoshi snorts. 

He sighs to himself. He knows he has to do something. And it’s probably his fault. He’s the one that dragged things up and kicked them unceremoniously into the light to be gawked at.

If he had just kept his mouth shut, they could exist in peace without any hints at possible feelings.

“Call me if you need a place to stay,” Monoma says as Hitoshi gets out of the car in front of Iida’s fancy apartment complex, uncharacteristically serious, “I’m sure Aizawa will have no problem with his protege crashing UA for a bit”

“Thanks,” he says softly. 

“Good luck,” Toteki says, sliding into the passenger seat. “Let us know how it goes”

“Will do. Thanks for the ride,” he gives them a two-fingered salute and limps his way into the apartment. 

He’s pretty exhausted and it takes the last of his energy to strip and shower. 

It’s noon by the time he collapses into his bed, still pushed against the wall, and passes the fuck out.

He wakes up briefly to pee in the middle of the night and Iida’s door is shut, which must mean he’s back.

Hitoshi lays in his bed, staring at the ceiling because his insomniac brain has clearly decided he’s slept enough. He thinks he falls asleep for an hour or so before he’s awake again. 

Giving up on anymore sleep, he rolls out of the bed and pads into the kitchen.

Iida is awake and sitting at the table with a mug. He has dark circles beneath his eyes to rival Hitoshi’s.

When Hitoshi enters he gets to his feet. 

“First, I would like to apologize for my unseemly behavior,” Iida bows before running a hand through his hair, “I have had time to reflect on my actions and I was indeed presumptuous about taking care of you. You are an adult, and I apologize for not treating you like one”

“I should apologize too,” Hitoshi says, staring at a spot on the wood as he struggles through talking about squishy, illogical things like emotions, “I was the one who escalated everything because I was tired and in pain. I…I really do appreciate everything you’ve done. You didn’t have to do any of it”

“I wanted to,” Iida says. “I…if I’m being honest, it was entirely selfish on my part at first. All through our time in school, you seemed impossible to get to know. Even Midoriya, who managed to batter through Todoroki’s walls, was at a loss when it came to you. When we graduated, you didn’t even stay for the graduation party and I felt like I had failed as a class rep, failed at making you feel welcome. In some way I had hoped that I could make up for that now”

Hitoshi shakes his head.

“It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. I didn’t want to make friends,” he says, “I only had one goal. Prove everyone wrong and become a hero. And when it came to the party…” his gaze flits from the spot on the wood to a spot on the floor, “everyone had parents and family around to congratulate them and support them and…I was the only one who didn’t”

“I did not notice that, I apologize”

“Yeah. Don’t apologize. Cause I bailed after the class photo so nobody would notice. And Class A was nosy enough that someone eventually would. It kinda sucks when everyone around you is celebrating happily with their family. Graduating from the Hero Course had been something I had worked towards for years. When you’ve finally achieved something you’ve wanted desperately your whole life and you don’t really have anyone to share it with…” Hitoshi shrugs, swallowing past the painful lump in his throat at the memory of what should have been his happiest day. “I guess it was easier to just leave than admit that I didn’t have anyone who cared”

“I’m sorry,” Iida says, and the genuineness of his tone makes Hitoshi’s chest ache.

“It’s not your fault,” he barks a laugh and rakes a hand roughly through his hair, tugging it harshly, “I managed just fine. I didn’t need anyone anyways. I mean, I did have Aizawa, to some extent. He gave me a sleeping bag. Pink”

“You do that”

“What?”

“You diminish your feelings. It’s okay to be upset that you didn’t have anyone. It’s okay to let people help you when you need it,” he says pointedly. Hitoshi huffs a quiet laugh. Iida sighs quietly. “Last night you asked what I wanted from you. Do you still wish to know?”

“I think I need to,” Hitoshi says quietly. “I think there’s a lot we haven’t talked about that maybe we should”

“After last night it should probably not come as a shock,” Iida steeples his fingers together in front of him, “I like you, Shinso, romantically”

“Since when?” Hitoshi asks. He had suspected it, Monoma and Toteki all but confirmed it, but he hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up.

“To be quite honest, I felt this way back in high school. I admired your dedication and drive to become a hero. I was impressed at the fact that you worked hard enough to get into the Hero Course and even managed to remain in the the top five of the class. I also suppose there was some kind of allure to your reservedness and your newness, this mystery surrounding you, that my teenage self found intriguing”

Hitoshi huffs out a quiet laugh at that.

“That mystery was just me being an antisocial asshole,” Hitoshi admits. Iida’s lips quirk up.

“Be that as it may, my seventeen year old self found it attractive”

“And now?” Hitoshi asks quietly.

“There is still much I do not know about you, this is true,” Iida says, bringing his hand down, “and I cannot say with certainty that the way I feel about you now is the same as I did back in high school. But the fact remains that I still admire your tenacity, as exasperating as it can be, and your loyalty to your friends. I think you are a good person, Shinso, and I think you have a kind heart despite everything you have been through. Your sense of humor, while at times crude and self-deprecating, can also be enjoyable. When I saw you with the cats at that cafe, I couldn’t help it. I think that was when I realized I may be developing, or I suppose re-developing, romantic feelings for you”

Hitoshi runs a hand through his hair.

“Yeah,” Hitoshi says quietly, staring at the ground, “I…think it’s the same for me,” he can feel his neck burning, “although I didn’t really notice anyone back in high school, I was only focused on becoming a hero. You’ve always been a good guy, Emergency Exit. Reliable, trustworthy, dependable…” he huffs another laugh, “you care about people enough to remember the little things. I didn’t even know you knew any of that about me. I didn’t think anyone knew anything about me, except that I liked cats, wanted to be a hero, and had a horrible relationship with sleep. I know it’s only been a couple of weeks, and I was ready to just brush it off as a crush and not say anything since I didn’t know…” he shrugs. The unfinished sentence could mean anything and he’ll leave it like that.

“I am glad then, that I am not one-sided in this,” Iida says. “But until you are better, I am still responsible for taking care of you and you are staying here with me,” Iida runs his thumb across the rim of his mug, “I do not wish to put either of us in an awkward position. We also need to think carefully about the logistics, the feasibility of a relationship between us. I cannot leave Hosu, and I would never force you to leave Musutafu. The distance could be insurmountable”

Hitoshi runs a hand through his hair and rocks back on his heels. 

“I don’t know,” Hitoshi admits, sliding into the chair. “I’m not good with any of this. I’ve never really dated anyone long-term. Mostly just the occasional hookup and a couple dates here and there before whoever it is realizes I’m not actually a functioning adult and the sparkles surrounding the idea of dating a hero wear off when they realize it means long hours on patrol and unpredictable schedules”

“I understand,” Iida sighs. “I, too, have tried dating a few times, with varied levels of success. It becomes even more difficult being in the top ten. Either the potential publicity drives them off or it attracts people who are only interested in me for that reason”

Hitoshi grimaces.

“Maybe…we could feel it out”

Iida looks at him inquisitively. 

“I’m stuck here for another two weeks”

“At least,” Iida points out, “it could be longer since you not only defied your doctor’s orders, but you went and got yourself re-injured!”

“Heh”

“Not heh! This is serious. Can I trust you to actually make a doctor’s appointment this week?”

“We never finished the conversation about us,” Hitoshi points out. 

“We will once you give me an answer”

“Fine. I’ll make an appointment”

“After we’re done talking”

“Iida…”

“Shinso”

Iida’s jaw is set in the stubborn line that Hitoshi knows means Iida will not accept any argument. He huffs.

“Fine. I’ll make an appointment after we’re done talking”

“Thank you,” Iida’s smile makes Hitoshi melt a little bit. “I only insist because I worry about you”

“I’m not really used to people aside from the one-braincell trio worrying about me, and usually their worry alternates between not pushing anything to knocking me out and dragging me into a clinic to get patched up”

“The what?” Iida laughs, looking slightly scandalized.

“The one-braincell trio. Monoma, Toteki, Kuroiro,” he waves a hand, “Toteki usually has the braincell”

“That is a very mean thing to say about your friends”

“Heh, they say worse about me”

Iida shakes his head, looking torn between dismay and amusement.

“Monoma has been teasing me about you,” Hitoshi admits. Iida looks curious. “Kuroiro too, and Toteki hasn’t said anything outright, but he’s always been the most subtle”

“What did you mean by feeling it out?” Iida asks.

“For all we know, we could end up sick and tired of each other by the time I’m cleared to leave,” Hitoshi says, “they do say living together is what makes or breaks a couple. If, at the end of this, we can’t stand each other that makes our decision easy”

“And if that is not the case?” Iida asks.

“Then we talk about it again”

“So we are essentially putting this discussion off,” Iida says, amused. Hitoshi huffs, a smile tugging his lips.

“Yes and no. We’re seeing how it goes”

Iida looks thoughtful.

“I suppose that is acceptable,” he says, smiling. “Seeing how it goes implies that we will try a relationship?”

“Yup,” Hitoshi says, feeling insecure all of a sudden even though he has no idea why. “If…if you want to, of course”

Iida reaches across the table to thread his fingers through Hitoshi’s, squeezing them.

“I would like that”

Hitoshi returns the squeeze, heart running a million miles in his chest.

Iida gets up and crosses the table, standing over Hitoshi.

“If that is the case,” he says softly, “would you mind if I kissed you?”

Hitoshi swears his cheeks are on fire as he nods.

Iida cradles his cheek as he bends down, pressing his lips against Hitoshi’s. Softly at first, almost tentatively. Hitoshi curls his hand around Iida’s wrist as he presses up into the kiss. The kiss deepens and their hands unfurl from where they were still entwined on the table. Hitoshi’s arm comes up to wrap around Iida’s neck, pulling him down, and Iida’s arm braces between Hitoshi’s shoulder blades, hand threading through his hair.

Annoyed by the awkward angle, Hitoshi shifts to his feet and presses against Iida. 

They break apart when Iida has to yawn.

“You should go to sleep,” Hitoshi murmurs, feeling helplessly fond.

“I should not mess up my sleep schedule anymore,” Iida says, regretfully, “which means I must stay awake until an appropriate bedtime!”

Hitoshi shakes his head and twines their fingers together. 

“A nap won’t mess you up, Emergency Exit”

“Forgive me if I do not trust your assessment of sleeping habits, Shinso,” Iida hesitates, “if we are trying this, us, would you mind terribly if I called you Hitoshi?”

Hitoshi’s cheeks burn at his first name.

“No,” he says softly, I would…like that”

“And…would you be willing to call me Tenya?”

Hitoshi knows his face is a fucking beacon. Something about names has always been a bigger deal to Hitoshi than most people. He’s always attributed it to the fact that growing up, people didn’t even talk to him if they could help it, much less use his name. Even the one-braincell trio doesn’t use first names often unless they’re being serious with each other. 

It’s always been another wall between Hitoshi and everyone else. 

“Y-Yeah,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, “it may take awhile. The only time I call anyone by their first name is when I’m giving Monoma shit”

“I don’t mind,” Ii-Tenya says. 

“Good,” Hitoshi smiles, tugging him down the hall to the guest bedroom.

“Wha-?”

“I got like one hour of sleep last night,” he pulls Tenya into the bed with him as he sets his alarm for an hour, “even if you’re not going to nap, I am. You’re warm and I want you to cuddle me”

“Ah, well, okay,” Tenya hesitates, laying down next to Hitoshi. He carefully wraps an arm around Hitoshi, almost shyly. Hitoshi settles back against his warmth and closes his eyes.

Several minutes later, he feels Tenya’s breathing even out and his tentative hold becomes slack and heavy with sleep, just like Hitoshi figured.

Sleep has never come easy to Hitoshi, but he finds himself dozing against Tenya’s warmth. 

He knows they’re going to eventually have a lot to talk about, but for now this is okay. They can take it one day at a time.

Chapter Text

“You’re sure about this?” Hitoshi hesitates.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Tenya frowns, “they’re our classmates”

“Yeah but it’s…different”

“Different?” Tenya queries. 

“Yeah,” Hitoshi rubs the back of his neck. 

They’re currently sitting in Tenya’s car outside the bar where the rest of their class is inside.

“Different how?” Tenya asks, tone patient and unhurried.

“Different!” Hitoshi gestures between them and Tenya sighs.

“I am going to need you to explain further, Hitoshi, because I do not understand. Yes, it is different, we are together, but how does that change anything?”

Hitoshi isn’t even sure how to voice the discomfort swelling in his chest as he stares at his hands.

Another sigh, quieter this time, and a large hand covers his own.

“Do you want to leave?”

“No, I-” Hitoshi glances at the bar, old feelings of inadequacy welling up inside him. But Tenya had been so excited for this gathering. “Let’s go,” he steels himself and unbuckles his seatbelt.

Tenya gets out of the car a bit slower, glancing at Hitoshi thoughtfully. 

Hitoshi refuses to meet his gaze, hands slid in the pockets of his jeans and his usual apathetic mask slipped on. 

He can get through this. It’s just a night of interacting with his former classmates. People do it all the fucking time.

…except people are usually better socially adjusted. 

“Iida!” Midoriya chirps, his gaze lands on Hitoshi and he brightens almost impossibly. “Oh my god! Shinso! You came!”

“Yeah,” he rubs the back of his neck at the explosion of chatter, “hey, Midoriya”

“Shinso! It’s been years!” Kaminari whoops, bounding over. Hitoshi has point one second to brace himself before he’s nearly taken down by a bundle of enthusiastic blonde. “Holy shit dude, you got buff! And your hair?” Kaminari spins around him in a circle, “you look hot man!”

“Uh,” Hitoshi wonders if it’s possible to spontaneously combust, “…thanks?”

“How’d you manage this, Iida?” Uraraka says, stopping in front of them with a warm smile. Hitoshi can’t help but smile back. She looks good. She hadn’t gotten much taller, and her face is still terribly round, but her hair has grown out, pulled into a high ponytail, and she carries herself with more confidence. 

“Hitoshi is my partner!” Tenya says, and the sheer amount of pride in his voice makes Hitoshi’s face burn.

“What? Like at Idaten?” Sero Hanta grins up at them, “dude that’s cool! I didn’t know you were taking a partner!”

Hitoshi thinks this may have been a terrible idea, he knew that him and Tenya were horribly mismatched, and he would bolt if not for the iron grip Kaminari has on his arm. 

“No, my romantic partner,” Tenya says, looking confused. 

Silence falls over the room and Hitoshi actually takes a step back seconds before noise explodes. 

“Oh my god!”

“Congratulations!”

“So cute!”

“I knew it!”

“NO FUCKING WAY!” Bakugo roars, “I FUCKING LOST THAT FUCKING BET!”

Kirishima looks pleased with himself from where he’s sitting, still holding Bakugo’s hand.

“You know, we could reevaluate the terms,” Kirishima says, with a smile that Hitoshi does not want to think about the implications of but gets Bakugo to sit back down. 

The noise and the attention is a bit overwhelming and Hitoshi has so many regrets, but he feels a small hand squeeze his wrist and he glances down at where Jirou Kyoka had appeared at his elbow. 

Like Uraraka, Jirou hadn’t grown, but her face had gotten more angular over the years. 

Hitoshi recalls a distant memory of Jirou crying on his shoulder behind the dorms. 

Yaoyorozu Momo is smiling at him from behind her girlfriend. 

Midoriya looks inordinately pleased and Uraraka is smiling happily at the two of them. The attention makes Hitoshi’s skin crawl and he excuses himself to the bathroom, fleeing from the room.

Once the heavy door quietly thuds behind him, Hitoshi feels a little better. He makes his way over to the sink and splashes water on his face before staring at his reflection in the mirror.

What the hell is he thinking? 

Even though he had trimmed his scruff and pulled his hair into a half knot at the back of his head, he’s still sallow-skinned from rarely seeing the sun and the dark circles beneath his bloodshot eyes haven’t improved any. It’s not like he lacks muscle, but he doesn’t have the sheer bulk that some of his peers do. It’s never been unusual, Monoma, Kuroiro and Toteki are all fairly slender, Hitoshi is the broadest of them.

But Tenya is peak hero: tall and handsome with a jawline sharp enough to cut glass and biceps that are easily the size of Hitoshi’s forearms. 

He glares at his reflection and wonders if he made a mistake. His former classmates are all incredibly successful heroes and Hitoshi is a human disaster. 

He supposes it’s only fair, since he modeled himself after another human disaster, but honestly Hitoshi has never really had a problem with his choice, with his career path, before. 

He grits his teeth. Six years. Six years and all the insecurities of his teenage years come crashing back into him over one get-together.

What will his former classmates think about him? Will they think he’s failed as a hero? Has he failed as a hero? Does that mean he thinks Aizawa had failed as a hero?

Before Hitoshi can spiral down the path of insecurities, the door swings open and Tenya enters, concern etched in every line of his face.

“Are you alright?” Tenya asks, hand rubbing gentle circles on his back.

“Sorry,” he runs a hand through his hair, dislodging his half-bun, “I had forgotten how much energy they could be”

Tenya laughs, running his hand through the loose hair, lightly scratching Hitoshi’s scalp in a way that Tenya knows makes him melt. “You know, Hagakure just yelled at them for scaring you off? And I quote, the first time we get Shinso to remind us of his continued existence and you all scare him away”

Hitoshi huffs a laugh and stares at himself in the mirror.

“I don’t know why they even care”

“Because they care about you,” Tenya squeezes his shoulder. “I wish you could see that”

They’ve had this discussion, many times, Tenya trying fruitlessly to convince Hitoshi of his worth and talk through his insecurities.

If it hasn’t been effective before, it definitely won’t be effective in the bathroom of a restaurant with their classmates outside.

Hitoshi presses a brief kiss to Tenya’s cheek.

“Go back and have fun, I’ll be out in a minute,” Hitoshi says, “just need some time to myself”

“Are you sure?” Tenya looks at him worriedly, clearly reluctant to leave Hitoshi on his own. 

Early on, they had had to establish boundaries. 

Tenya is the type of person who would put his partner’s wishes above his own, and will absolutely hover when he thinks something is wrong.

Hitoshi, on the other hand, doesn’t actually have any wishes, and definitely doesn’t always appreciate the hovering.

They’re learning.

“I’m sure,” Hitoshi pats his shoulder, “just need a breather”

“Alright,” Tenya kisses him, soft and sweet, before pulling away. “If you’re not out in five, I’ll come check on you again, okay?”

“That’s fair”

Tenya gives him one last look before leaving the bathroom. 

Hitoshi stares at himself in the mirror again and wonders what exactly Tenya sees in him.

He shakes himself because now is not the time to mire himself in his insecurities. He splashes some water on his face, takes a deep breath and pulls his hair back as he slinks out of the bathroom.

Fortunately, aside from a few apologetic glances and a couple of “sorry, Shinso!”s, nobody makes a fuss about his return and he settles at the corner of the bar. Tenya makes eye contact with him from where he’s talking with Midoriya and Uraraka and smiles.

“Hey,” Jirou says quietly, sitting next to him.

“Hi,” Hitoshi responds, “you look well”

“You too, surprisingly,” Jirou cracks a grin. Hitoshi has always liked her surprisingly snarky sense of humor, “you’re alive. And awake.”

“Unfortunately,” Hitoshi grins. Jirou snorts.

“Big mood,” she responds blithely. “Man I get that you looked up to Aizawa and all, but seriously, you did not have to become his clone. Todoroki’s been eyeing you with that look ever since you stepped in, don’t think you’ll be able to convince him you’re not Aizawa’s biological son”

Hitoshi snorts. He had heard about Todoroki’s conspiracy theories. How Midoriya was All Might’s son, and how Hawks and Tokoyami were secretly related, despite koels and hawks not even being in the same family.

“…mind if I…join you?” a soft, quiet voice speaks up. 

Hitoshi looks up to see Koda Koji towering over him, despite his hunched over form. 

“Do what you want,” Hitoshi shrugs and Jirou nods. Koda looks relieved. 

The three of them sit in a companionable and comfortable silence, watching their more boisterous counterparts make conversation. 

This isn’t so bad, Hitoshi decides. He watches Tokoyami bring Koda a glass of water before sitting next to him. 

At some point, Hitoshi winds up sandwiched between Ashido Mina, who is shouting with Sero about some movie, and Todoroki Shouto, who is staring at him intently.

“How is Mr. Aizawa?” Todoroki finally says.

Jirou’s words from earlier come back to haunt him.

“Fine,” Hitoshi intones, “last I heard he was principal at UA”

Todoroki nods. Still staring. 

Hitoshi begins to get twitchy. He glances up and makes eye contact with Midoriya, who gives him a sympathetic smile.

“…could answer that,” Hagakure says from across the restaurant where she’s talking to Bakugo and Kirishima, “hey! HEY SHINSO!”

Hitoshi levels her with a flat look. “What”

“How did you and Iida meet?”

“At UA,” Hitoshi says bluntly, earning laughter from the rest of the class. He has no idea how he knows Hagakure is pouting, but she is.

“No, I know that! I mean, how did you meet again and get together!”

Silence falls over the room as everyone leans in, probably eager to hear about how their exuberant class rep ended up with the elusive insomniac transfer student.

“Do you mind if I tell the story?” Tenya asks from where he’s sitting with Uraraka. 

“Go ahead,” Hitoshi says, breathing a sigh of relief when the attention is lifted off him. He knows Tenya did that intentionally. 

“I gave him my card at the Hero Gala last year so we could catch up,” Tenya gestures, “and I guess he forgot it was in his pocket because I got a call from Musutafu Police at four in the morning saying that my card had been found on an injured hero, who’s license was unreadable and who was otherwise unrecognizable”

Hitoshi rubs the back of his neck as several classmates shoot him concerned looks. 

“So I went to Musutafu, realized it was Hitoshi, and I stayed. I offered to take care of him, since he wasn’t able to be discharged without a caretaker and shortly after we began dating”

“That’s so cute!” Ashido squeals, throwing her arms around Hitoshi and squeezing him tight enough he wheezes.

“Where was your first date!” Sato asks. 

“A cat cafe,” Hitoshi intones. Todoroki’s staring intensifies impossibly as everyone coos and squeals.

Fortunately, they’re all eventually herded to a table. Hitoshi ends up at the end, next to Tenya and across from Tokoyami and Koda.

Todoroki is still staring at him from the other side of Koda.

“So!” Midoriya gets to his feet, “Uraraka and I also have an announcement to make!”

“You’re pregnant!” Kaminari calls out, clearly intending to joke. Silence falls, Hitoshi facepalms, and Ashido smacks him on the back of the head. 

“You idiot!” 

“Wait, you mean-?”

“Well, since Kaminari did the announcing for us,” Midoriya continues cheerfully. Kaminari looks suitably guilty, Ashido and Sero are giving him twin looks of disappointment. “Uraraka and I are expecting a baby!”

Cheers resound through the room. Kaminari apologizes, looking chagrined.

Congratulations go around the table and the soon-to-be parents good-naturedly answer the volley of questions aimed their way.

Dinner is quieter since neither Tokoyami nor Koda are much for conversation, which is a relief for Hitoshi.

He does hope Tenya isn’t sitting at this end of the table for Hitoshi’s benefit, because Hitoshi would rather Tenya sit with his friends.

However, when he quietly ventures the question, Tenya squeezes his hand beneath the table and shakes his head.

Towards the end of the night, most people have had a bit to drink. Midoriya and Uraraka had left earlier, promising another get together soon. Midoriya had forced his number into Hitoshi’s phone with a sweetly delivered threat that now he could just call Tenya if Hitoshi didn’t use it. Bakugo and Kirishima had left next and Hitoshi wishes he hadn’t overheard Kirishima saying they were going to make good on the terms of the bet. Sato had also slipped out, apparently he had left hero work entirely and had opened a bakery so he had to get an early start. Aoyama had also bowed out, citing his need for beauty sleep.

Hitoshi finds himself sitting in a small circle of Shouji, Tokoyami, Jirou, Ojiro and Hagakure and talking about some of his underground work. 

Tenya is across the bar talking to Yaoyorozu, Todoroki, and Asui. 

Ashido, Sero and Kaminari look five minutes away from getting kicked out for PDA.

Eventually, Ojiro and Hagakure leave, followed by Shouji then Tokoyami, and Jirou gravitates towards Yaoyorozu. 

Hitoshi takes the moment of freedom to close out his and Tenya’s tab.

He’s pocketing the card when Kaminari slumps over his shoulder and sniffles in his ear.

“I’m really-hic-glad you came,” he says wetly.

“Thanks”

“N-No-hic,” Kaminari points a wavering finger, “I r-really, r-really,” tears begin to fall down his cheeks, “I don’t w-want you to-hic-hate us, y’know?”

Something in Hitoshi’s chest squeezes. 

“I don’t hate you, Kaminari,” he says quietly.

“You were so-hic-cool at school,” Kaminari sniffles pitiably, “and then-hic-no one ever heard from you-hic-again. And I wondered-hic-if I annoyed you too much”

Ah hell.

Hitoshi sighs and wraps an arm around Kaminari, who leans into his shoulder with a sniffle.

“You didn’t,” Hitoshi says.

“P-hic-promise?” Kaminari’s golden eyes are wet and wide and sad.

“Promise,” Hitoshi says.

“Sh-Shinsooooo,” Kaminari wails, bursting into tears and squeezing him tighter. “I’ve missed youuuuu!” 

Hitoshi awkwardly pats his back. Tenya looks bemused and a little concerned from where he’s talking to Asui and Todoroki, Jirou and Yaoyorozu apparently left as well.

“Sorry bout him,” Sero chuckles, gently tugging Kaminari from Hitoshi’s grasp, or Hitoshi from Kaminari’s grasp, “should probably get him a water or something”

“S’fine,” Hitoshi ignores the damp spot on his jacket.

“He’s not wrong though,” Sero says quietly, “it really has been awhile”

“Yeah,” Hitoshi says. 

“You should come around more,” Sero grins, “and not just because you’re dating Iida, you know, but because you’re our classmate too and we miss you”

Maybe the alcohol is affecting Hitoshi as well, because he feels his eyes burn as he glances at the ground.

“Yeah,” Hitoshi says, rubbing the back of his neck, “I guess I will”

After exchanging numbers, and with a promise to give his number to Kaminari when he’s sober, Sero and an equally drunk Ashido fumble their way out to a cab.

Tenya presses a kiss to Hitoshi’s temple as he walks over. 

“It was good to see you, Shinso,” Asui says. 

“Yeah, you too” 

“Wish we’d gotten a chance to talk more, kero,” she tilts her head, “will we see you again?”

“Probably,” Hitoshi responds, feeling marginally guilty, but his social battery is at zero. 

Fortunately, his words seem to have their intended effect because Asui nods. 

“Tell Mr. Aizawa hello,” Todoroki says, bi-colored eyes fixed on Hitoshi with the same intensity as the entire night.

“Uh, sure,” Hitoshi says, watching Todoroki walk off.

When it’s just him and Tenya, he slumps forward with a tired sigh.

“How are you doing?” Tenya asks, taking his hand and leading him to the car. 

“Exhausted”

“I am very sorry I was unable to remain by your side”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hitoshi slides into the leather and closes his eyes in relief, “you were talking to your friends”

“They are your friends too, you know,” Tenya says softly, “you saw how happy everyone was that you came”

Hitoshi looks out the window.

“Hitoshi,” Tenya says, when they’re laying in bed at his apartment, “why did you not wish to go in initially?”

Hitoshi shakes his head.

“It was stupid,” he says, “the usual”

“If it caused you such consternation, it could not possibly be stupid,” Tenya insists.

“I just thought…maybe they’d judge you for being with me,” Hitoshi says quietly, “that I wasn’t good enough or something”

“Hitoshi-”

“I told you, it was stupid”

“It is not stupid,” Tenya sighs, “I mean, in a way, perhaps yes. Because they would never think that. But also even if they did, I would not care. I am not with you because of other people’s opinions of you”

Hitoshi huffs out a quiet laugh and presses closer. 

“See?” Hitoshi murmurs, kissing his jaw, “stupid”

“We will talk more about this in the morning,” Tenya decides, turning off the lamp and tucking Hitoshi close. “I am glad you agreed to come with me”

“You know what?” Hitoshi says quietly, thinking about his quiet companionship with Jirou, Koda, and Tokoyami, and the way Kaminari had clung to him when he cried, “I am too”

Chapter Text

Tenya has absolutely no idea why Monoma Neito would send him a message and ask to meet at a cafe in Hosu, but he also knows that Monoma is one of Hitoshi’s best friends. 

He is both surprised and unsurprised.

He remembers their interactions at UA. Hitoshi had put up with Monoma more often than he did most members of his own class. And Monoma seemed to be less chaotic around Hitoshi.

Tenya remembers seeing the two of them sitting in the library together, quietly discussing something. Hitoshi had seemed relaxed and Monoma looked calm.

Having seen them interact several times, Tenya can definitely see it. 

Hitoshi’s friends have a strange relationship. Tenya has never really understood the friendships that revolve around insulting each other, even fondly, but for some reason it seems odd to imagine Hitoshi’s friends as doing anything but. 

Tenya reaches the cafe. 

It’s an unfamiliar one. A little bit hipster, slightly more upper class than Tenya would usually choose. 

He catches sight of Monoma sitting in the window.

His former course mate is wearing a pale blue turtleneck and white pants. He looks casually elegant, half-reclining in the chair with a cup of something that looks like tea.

“I appreciate you meeting with me,” Monoma smirks as Tenya sits down. Tenya feels a brief flicker of deja vu from high school.

There is no love lost between Tenya and Monoma. 

“I was surprised when you messaged me,” Tenya admits.

Monoma toys with the string of his teabag. 

“Obviously it’s about Shinso,” Monoma says, “otherwise I doubt we would ever have to speak to each other”

“Understandable,” Tenya frowns slightly. 

Monoma sighs.

“Alright. Let’s just cut to the chase,” he clasps his hands in front of him and looks up, holding Tenya’s gaze with an unfamiliar hard expression on his face. 

Gone is the slightly unhinged and melodramatic teenager. In his place is an experienced Pro Hero. Tenya feels his guard go up as a little voice in his head tells him to not underestimate Monoma.

“I like you, Iida,” Monoma says, “this may come as a shock, considering our history, but I think you are a good guy. Clearly, you care about Shinso, and as his best friend that is all I can ask for. I admit, I had my doubts about you at first, given your family background and the fact you are a limelight hero. But there is a lot you don’t know about Shinso. I know you’re aware that underground heroes experience a different side of villainy, but you do not know the extent of it. Perhaps one day Shinso will tell you, perhaps not. There are some things that we just don’t want to talk about, don’t want to think about. There may even be some things Shinso has done, has had to do, that you will disagree with. If Shinso does tell you, do not judge him too harshly”

“Why do you think I would?” Tenya feels a little offended.

Monoma shakes his head, expression shifting to something somber and faraway, haunted. Tenya is suddenly intrigued. 

What has Monoma experienced? What has Hitoshi experienced?

“Because you’re a limelight hero,” Monoma says, a slight frown furrowing his brows as he shakes himself out of wherever he went, “if Shinso trusts you enough to talk about these things with you, just remember my words,” Monoma’s pale grey-blue eyes sharpen into something dangerous, “Shinso doesn’t trust many people. You’re his first real relationship. He may seem like an uncaring and apathetic asshole, but he’s not. He cares deeply and because of this he gets hurt just as deeply, if not more, than most people. There’s a reason his social circle only consists of myself, Toteki, and Kuroiro. We look out for each other. He’s had a hard life, Iida, do not make it harder”

Tenya has never found Monoma to be particularly intimidating before. His memories of Monoma are of a very rude and annoying high schooler. Annoying, but not intimidating. 

The person sitting in front of him is all hard edges and razor wire, he looks like he could kill someone. 

Tenya wonders what happened to Monoma, but he knows this isn’t anything like the Monoma of six years ago. The man in front of him is deadly serious and not to be taken lightly.

“I promise,” Tenya says, matching Monoma’s seriousness. “I will do my best to make sure Hitoshi is never hurt because of anything I do”

“That is all I ask,” Monoma says. Like flipping a switch, he goes from hard and serious to cheerful and it gives Tenya whiplash, “so, I guess we owe you a fruit basket or something for getting Shinso to cooperate and actually stay in one place long enough to heal,” he leans back in his seat, posture going from rigid to relaxed with ease.

Tenya shakes his head.

“That is unnecessary!” he chops his hand down. “I am taking care of Hitoshi because I care about him!”

Monoma laughs.

“Ah, I forgot how serious you were, Emergency Exit Iida,” Monoma’s voice has a lilting, teasing tone, “how on earth do you handle him?”

“I do not get what you mean,” Tenya frowns slightly, a little thrown off by Monoma’s personality shifts. 

Monoma shakes his head, a small smile tugging on his lips.

“You’re good for him, Iida,” Monoma says, draining the rest of his tea, “I speak for the three of us when I say you have our approval,” he gets to his feet, bending at the waist and tilting his head sideways to stare at Tenya in a manner that is decidedly unnerving, “if you gain his trust, Shinso is one of the most loyal people you will ever have the fortune of meeting. Take care of him, Iida”

“You have my word”

Monoma studies him for a moment that’s just a little too long to be completely comfortable, pale eyes assessing, before straightening and smiling at him brightly.

“Au revoir, Iida,” he sing-songs with a casual hand wave, “come visit Musutafu on a Sunday, we can all go out”

“Ah, um, sure,” Tenya blinks. “Goodbye”

Tenya stares at Monoma’s empty seat, wondering just what the hell goes through his head. 

He gets back to his apartment to find Hitoshi asleep on the couch. Well. Asleep for Hitoshi, which isn’t much.

“Monoma wanted to meet up with me,” Tenya says, sitting next to him.

“I hope he wasn’t too harsh,” Hitoshi groans, “he can be a lot”

Tenya thinks back to the encounter.

“He’s definitely just as strange as he was in high school, just in a different way”

Hitoshi snorts and shifts so that his head is pillowed in Tenya’s lap.

“He’s a good friend, all things considered”

“I think I received his approval”

“I’m glad,” Hitoshi murmurs, “Monoma is…honestly, if Toteki is the mother of our group, Monoma is the father”

Tenya runs his fingers through Hitoshi’s soft hair. 

“I am glad you have people to look out for you”

Hitoshi catches Tenya’s hand and twines their fingers and closes his eyes, holding their clasped hands to his chest.

Tenya can’t help but wonder what exactly Monoma was talking about.

Do not judge him too harshly.

Tenya squeezes Hitoshi’s hand and decides not to question it. He’ll let Hitoshi decide when, if, he wants to tell him. 

He pushes Monoma’s words out of his head and opens his book.

A week later a fruit basket shows up at his front door and Tenya can’t help but shake his head.

Hitoshi’s friends are definitely a little bizarre. 

Tenya is glad Hitoshi has them in his life.