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He’d been coming here for a while. About as long as he’d been with this family. It was a small cabin-style playhouse in the woods behind the park. There was a Do Not Enter sign on the door. A single lawn chair sat on the small porch. It was surprisingly well kept for, seemingly, an abandoned place. The inside held a small kitchen area. Granted, there was no power and no running water, but there were cabinets and a counter along one wall. A futon lay in the opposite corner by a portable heater. The heater was dead the first time he stopped by, but he’s remedied that problem since then. There weren’t any holes or leaks in the roof as far as he could tell, there weren’t any termites or rotten spots either.
By his third visit, he had brought an extra set of clothes and a blanket. By his fifth, he learned that if he cranked the heater up high he could cook a cup of ramen in front of it. It took a while but it was edible enough. He started bringing his schoolwork to avoid the pain of trying to think with so much noise in the background.
He enjoyed being alone. There was no one there to bother him or yell at him or worse. And since there was nobody there, he could talk. A simple thing most take for granted but sometimes it made his whole day. He would spend hours just talking to himself, listening to his pronunciation. Memorizing the sound for the times when his mind threatened to forget it.
During most of his visits, he finally got to enjoy himself. Some days, though, he wasn’t quite so lucky.
Some days the adults would muzzle him the second he got home from school. Those days he had to sneak out and spend his time at the cabin in silence. Being in a place that made him happy just to have his freedom of speech taken yet again. It was painful.
It was nearly six months into his stay with Family Five. Winter was steadily on its way, when he started to notice differences in the cabin. They were small things but easily noticeable to someone who owned little personal effects.
Something moved a few inches to the right. A few extra instant rice cups in the cabinet. It only took a couple of weeks for more personal items to appear. An extra set of clothes. A well-loved All Might figure. Drawings hung on the wall.
At first, Hitoshi was wary of this new presence in his cabin and after about a month, he found something infinitely more personal. It was a single laminated picture hung among the drawings. The picture was of a spiky-haired brunette man who was holding a smaller, similarly spiky-haired blond child on his shoulders. The kid looked no older than five with a striking resemblance to the man. They both had smiles on their faces.
Somehow, the picture comforted him, in a way. Knowing that the person invading his little home was someone who cared for these people.
It also gave him an idea. He spent three days debating it but in the end, he decided to go through with it. So the next time he visited, he brought his own immensely personal item. A picture of him and his parents. It was folded to cut out his mother so only his dad and him were visible. The picture was from his father’s last birthday. Hitoshi was draped over his dad's shoulders for a hug. His mom stood around the corner of the table cutting the cake. It’s the last truly happy picture he has of his family. He hung his picture right next to the stranger’s with a small smile. He hoped his picture could provide some comfort to the stranger like theirs had for him.
Unfortunately, it seemed to have the opposite effect. For about a week and a half, there wasn’t so much as a hint that the stranger had been there after seeing his photo. Either they stopped coming or they became very cautious of his presence. It seemed they had the intention of returning eventually, since their things were still scattered about the small building.
This was proven true the next time he spent the night at the cabin. His afternoon at the cabin went how it usually would. Homework, cleaning, talking, the works. It wasn’t until that night that things changed. He was curled up under the blankets on the futon, asleep. The heater was left on low to counteract a small draft in the cabin and the winter chill. He was roused from his sleep by the sound of boots on the front porch.
He knew immediately it was a child. They weren’t heavy enough to be an adult. This realization did little to calm his racing heart. A child did not equal safety. They could be just as dangerous as adults. Especially when you add quirks to the mix.
The door was pushed open and a small figure emerged from behind it. They were taller than him but still obviously a kid. A ring of blond hair peeked out from under their snow hat. A nice coat wrapped their frame.
They paused in the doorway, red eyes locking with his violet. They held each other’s gaze for what felt like hours to Hitoshi. He was a little surprised when a shiver ran up his spine.
“Close the door,” he finally broke eye contact to fiddle with the heater, “you’re letting the cold in.”
The blond scowled and pushed the door closed, “Don’t tell me what to do.”
He tracked the blond from his peripherals as they shed their winter clothes. Then shuffling around the cabinets for a minute before pulling out a cup of ramen. One of the water bottles was retrieved and poured in before they pulled themself onto the counter. They watched Hitoshi while they sat with the cup nestled between their hands.
The intense stare down had nothing on the pops that nearly had him jumping out of his skin. He looked at the other kid’s hands. There seemed to be small sparks coming from them. Part of their quirk? Maybe some type of electricity?
“Quit starin’, ya creep,” they grumbled. He must have been staring longer than he thought for them to call him on it.
He sat back from the heater, “You can use the heater.”
The blond’s scowl deepened, “Obviously, it’s on isn’t it.”
“I meant…” his throat decided now was a good time to stop working. He gestured to the ramen, “To- to cook.”
They bit their lip and narrowed their eyes at him, “I knew that!” They hopped off the counter and stomped over to the heater. Sitting down heavily, the cup was placed in front of the hot air.
Hitoshi leaned away from them, the sudden closeness making it difficult to breathe. Luckily he was given a few minutes to collect himself since they didn’t move any closer and there was no attempt at conversation. He wrapped his blanket tighter around himself.
Did they know how long to leave it in front of the heat? It was practically done but they were just staring at it. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came. Maybe he could… He reached to move the cup away. The aggressive popping had him pulling his hands back quickly.
The blond was glaring at him now. He went to speak but again, nothing came out. He pointed at the cup then looked at the other kid.
“That one’s mine, you can get your own.”
He nodded and reached for the cup again. The popping grew more intense.
“Hey! I said that’s mine!” Hitoshi ignored them as best he could so he could push the cup over to them. This had them pausing. They eyed him and the cup cautiously.
Hitoshi took a fortifying breath before forcing out, “It’s done.”
They scowled at him again. “Why didn’t you just say that?” they asked as they snatched up the ramen. He pulled the blanket back around himself again. Should he get them one? It wasn’t cold in the cabin but they just got here. No, they’ve been coming to the cabin for a while too, they’d obviously know where the blankets were if they wanted one.
He was startled from his thoughts when they stood to add to the small pile of used, empty cups. On their way back they grabbed one of the blankets.
“I’m going to sleep now. If you try anything I won’t hesitate to explode your ass, Eyebags.” Hitoshi nodded and moved off of the futon to sit on the other side of the heater. They gave him a confused look but settled down nonetheless. They watched him for a while before they finally seemed to fall asleep. Suffice to say, Hitoshi didn’t end up getting any more sleep that night.
…
He was a bit embarrassed to admit that it took him until lunch the next day to realize the blond was the same kid from the picture on the wall. It was so obvious now that he thought about it, but at the time, he was too nervous to connect the dots.
They didn’t end up running into each other again for another week. This time, the blond was there when he arrived. They must have gone straight to the cabin after school because Hitoshi only made a quick stop by Family Five’s house before heading over.
There were papers spread out on the kitchen counter and the blond was sitting in the lawn chair from the porch. They looked up from their work when he stepped in but quickly went back to it when they saw who had entered the small building. Hitoshi made his way to the side of the counter and seated himself on the floor. He pulled his own homework out and leaned back against the side of the counter before starting. They worked in fairly comfortable silence. Only the sound of pencil on paper and pages being shuffled.
After about an hour of work, the silence was broken, “You did number 10 wrong.” Hitoshi whipped his head around to look at the blond then turned back to his assignment. “That one’s multiplication, not division.” Hitoshi frowned and redid the problem. Turns out, they were right.
He glanced up at the other kid who seemed to be avoiding their own work.
“Thanks,” he mumbled.
They looked over at him, “Whatever, I’m not gonna waste my time around an idiot.” Hitoshi turned to peek over the counter at the others' work. They narrowed their eyes at him but didn’t say anything. He glanced over the pages. English work. Surprisingly one of Hitoshi’s better subjects. They seemed to be stuck on sentence structure.
“English…” red eyes were on him again but he pushed on, “English puts descriptors before nouns.” They looked back to the assignment.
“I didn’t ask.” There wasn’t any of the usual aggression in their voice so Hitoshi took it as a win.
“Right.” They spent the next few hours doing and reviewing each other’s work. It was nearly dark by the time they took their leave. It wasn’t much but Hitoshi walked back to the house a little lighter and with a bit of hope.
Over the next few weeks, Hitoshi learned that the blond was, in fact, a boy, and his name was Katsuki. The more time they spent together the more they played games like cops and robbers instead of doing their work. It was Katsuki’s idea to play cops and robbers instead of heroes and villains but Hitoshi was just glad he wouldn’t have to be stuck playing the villain anymore.
…
This visit was different. His foster parents had picked him up directly from school. It seemed they didn’t even want to risk letting him walk to the house. As soon as they were inside, one of them was forcing that horrid contraption onto his face. At this point, it was too small for him. It dug into his face uncomfortably but they didn’t want to waste money on him to get him a new one. He had to wait a couple of hours before he could sneak out and head to the cabin. When he got there, he was somewhat relieved not to find Katsuki. The blond only had so much he was willing to let go, but Hitoshi doubted this would be one of them.
It was almost seven when he heard the crunch of snow outside. He was a bit disappointed but not surprised when Katsuki pushed the door open. It must have started snowing again because the blond was covered in the stuff. He barely got the door closed before his eyes were zeroing in on the hard plastic covering Hitoshi‘s face. It seemed to take a moment to register, but then Katsuki was right by his friend's side. His glare was harsh but the blond was gentle when touching anything. He pushed and prodded at it, looking for loose spots in an attempt to get it off.
At one point in his search, it pressed painfully against Hitoshi’s nose causing him to finch back. This seemed to break the blond’s silence.
“This is a fucking muzzle , Toshi!” he growled, “Who did this? I’ll kill them!” Hitoshi tried to respond but the plastic bit into his skin causing him to wince. The other boy’s glare was back, full force. He shed his winter clothes to reach one of his inner pockets.
“You’re lucky I had these on me today,” he pulled out a lock picking kit. He kneeled next to Hitoshi again, pushing up his sleeves in preparation to work.
Hitoshi couldn’t help himself but redirect the blond’s arm when he saw the discoloration on them. Upon closer inspection, they were proven to be bruises.
Hitoshi’s day was already bad but to have his friend show up with bruises soured his mood even more. He gave the other boy a slightly frustrated look. Here he was fussing over Hitoshi when he was walking around with bruises.
The blond pursed his lips, “Later.” He held the other’s arm for a moment longer before allowing him to go back to picking the muzzle’s lock. It’s not like he could ask anything until it was off anyway.
Silence reigned as Katsuki worked on the lock. He struggled to sit still, instincts telling him that he was in danger by letting Katsuki sit behind him and touch the back of his head. The blond was starting to mutter to himself, presumably because he was struggling with the lock.
Finally, there was a click and the pressure on his face released. A sigh of relief left him as he threw the offending piece of plastic across the room and rubbed his sore face. Katsuki’s face was suddenly very close to his, one hand tilting Hitoshi’s chin to get a better look.
He frowned, “Stop that, you’re smearing blood everywhere.”
He pulled back his hand to look at the oddly thin liquid coating his fingers apathetically, “I’m fine.” The blond ignored him, walking to the kitchen to rifle through one of the cabinets Hitoshi hadn’t been through in a while. He came back with a pocket-size first aid kit.
He tilted his head at the sight of it, “When…” As much progress as they had made in their friendship, Hitoshi was still hesitant to ask direct questions. Quirks weren’t something they had really discussed between them.
“You’re not the only one who stashes things here, idiot.” That wasn’t concerning at all, Katsuki, thank you. Hitoshi watched the blond’s arms pointedly. Katsuki could tell he wanted to talk about it but he knew the blond wouldn’t say anything until he was asked.
They sat quietly while Katsuki cleaned his face and Hitoshi organized his thoughts.
When he finally opened his mouth to speak he was cut off, “We’re talking about you first. Don’t look at me like that! You were the one with a whole ass muzzle on!” Hitoshi pouted at that. Maybe he was ignoring his problems but so what? Katsuki was doing the same thing! He gave the blond a small glare through his purple hair.
Katsuki matched his gaze unwaveringly. “Who.” No question, just a demand for an answer. Hitoshi’s mouth stayed stubbornly shut. He couldn’t tell him because he’d get mad and want to fight them. He can’t win against Family Five, legally or otherwise. Hitoshi shook his head.
The blond crossed his arms roughly. “Tell me who!” Hitoshi shook his head again, lips a thin line. The blond’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration.
“Tch. Fine. Are you hurt anywhere else?” Another head shake. “They use this shit often?” Hitoshi curled up a bit, uncomfortable with the answer, and gave a vague shrug instead. The blond huffed, “You’re making this unnecessarily difficult, Eyebags.”
Hitoshi sighed at the nickname. Katsuki wasn’t mad that he was being difficult. Probably because Katsuki planned on being just as infuriating when it was his turn to be interrogated.
Katsuki gave a sigh. “I was planning on asking anyway but my dad wants me to ‘extend an invitation’ to you for dinner.”
“Your dad.” Katsuki nodded. Oh god my friend's dad wants to meet me. He wants to have dinner with me. Oh, no no no, I’m gonna mess it up! “When?”
“Mm, tonight would be fine.” Tonight?! Like, right now tonight? No way! I can’t risk that. Not tonight.
“Okay.” Damn it .
The blond put the last bandage across Hitoshi's nose, “Great, grab your stuff and we’ll head over.”
…
Katsuki’s house reminded Hitoshi just what the difference in their upbringing was. The house was bigger than all of the houses he’d been through. The yard was pristine and the interior had a high end minimalistic style.
Katsuki didn’t hesitate to make his presence known through his rough handling of the door and then yelling through the house that he had arrived.
Hitoshi, on the other hand, was stuck at the door. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. He’d never really been to a friend's house and he was finding it to be immensely overwhelming. Everything was so clean he was worried just standing next to something would tarnish it. He was brought out of his observation of the house by the blond telling him to leave his shoes by the door and follow him.
He slid his shoes off, a bit hesitant, before he followed the other boy into the kitchen. He hovered in the doorway upon seeing a tall man at the sink. He was brunette, his hair spiky like Katsuki’s, and wore glasses. He noticed them and grabbed a rag to dry his hands.
“Ah, you must be Hitoshi. Katsuki told me so much about you,” he smiled. “It’s good to finally meet you.”
Hitoshi glanced nervously between the man and his friend and gave the man a small bow. There was no chance he’d be able to speak yet.
“Dad.”
“Right, I won’t embarrass you in front of your friend. Dinner will be ready soon. Are you alright with kare-raisu, Hitoshi? It might be a bit spicy,” he asked. Hitoshi nodded at the floor. He could deal with a little spice.
“You don’t have to agree just because it’s what he offered. If you want something else he can make it.” Katsuki was surprisingly adamant about this. Hitoshi furrowed his brow and shook his head. He was fine, there was no need to go out of their way for him.
The blond scowled at him but didn’t push the subject. Instead he took the violet boy up to his room to play video games. They spent the hour before dinner playing an adventure game. It was surprisingly soothing compared to what he thought the blond would play. And if Katsuki noticed his heightened resistance to speak, he didn’t say anything. Just gave him a pen and a pad of paper.
The kare-raisu was actually really good. Definitely better than the rice and ramen cups he’d been living off of at the cabin.
Quiet never lasted long at the table. Katsuki’s dad (Masaru was his name) asked a lot of questions and Katsuki, himself, was very boisterous at the table. While Hitoshi didn’t add to the noise, he did add to the conversation with the notepad he’d been given earlier. Masaru had said he could have it at the table since it helped him to contribute to the conversation. He also didn’t want Katsuki to dominate the table talk too much.
By some miracle, he didn’t screw everything up. Dinner went well and he was even invited to have dinner with them again. He only realized once he’d left that he never got around to interrogating his friend. Sneaky little brat.
As he was passing the park, he was made painfully aware that if he was heading back to Family Five then he needed to be wearing that suffocating piece of plastic. He couldn’t just go in there without it or they’d freak out. Even if he got past them, they’d notice in the morning when they came to take it off for school. He could put it back on but they’d still know it had come off when they saw the bandages across his face. Besides, he wasn’t sure he could get himself to put it back on even if it would work. There was no good way around this.
He looked to the park’s tree line. They’d probably freak out more but at least he’d have all day to prepare. He headed for the trees. The futon had nothing on Katsuki’s bed but it was better than the alternative.
…
Hitoshi hated being right. He knew he was screwed the moment he stepped through the door. He didn’t remember much of what happened, having been in a hazy state on the way home. Unfortunately, he didn’t make it to the cabin that weekend. There was no chance to sneak out since they took his door and checked on him every few hours.
When Monday finally arrived he barely had the energy to get his things together. Family Five wouldn’t let him walk to school so they dropped him off at the front doors and didn’t leave until a teacher ushered him inside. Unfortunately for them, he didn’t have the energy to even pretend to pay attention in class. So, the first chance he got, he slipped out the side doors and made his way to the cabin. As soon as he was inside he dropped his things and crashed on the futon. He didn’t sleep, as much as he’d like to, but he wasn’t present either.
The sound of the door broke the quiet. He hadn’t realized how long it’d been until he felt someone sit on the futon next to him. He finally pulled himself together enough to recognize Katsuki, who was watching Hitoshi closely. Probably noticing all his poorly hidden bruises.
“Hey,” he whispered, voice strained
Katsuki stared at him for a bit longer, “You weren’t here over the weekend.” Straight to the point then.
“They took my door.” The blonds' brows furrowed. “Can’t sneak out if they’re keeping a close eye on a ‘dangerous villain’.”
“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Katsuki was quiet but stern.
“I have a villain's quirk, Katsuki,” he said apathetically. If it was gonna happen, he might as well get it over with.
“Bullshit,”
What-
“There’s no such thing as a villainous or heroic quirk. My quirk is praised by many but I have someone who reminds me just how dangerous it can be.”
“Our quirks are nothing alike.”
“Yeah? And what makes yours so bad, huh?”
“Brainwashing… My quirk is brainwashing.”
Katsuki’s scowl was back, “I have explosions. My sweat is explosive and can be toxic to others if I’m not careful with it. If I wanted, I could be a horrible villain,” he smirked, “lucky for you mere mortals, I have decided to use my powers for good.”
Hitoshi huffed at that. He scanned Katsuki’s face. “So, what, are you a God now?”
“Like I wasn’t-” Katsuki fell silent, eyes vacant as they always are when Hitoshi used his quirk.
“Katsuki...” he wasn’t sure what he wanted to ask. Or if he even wanted the honest answer. He opened his mouth to ask about the bruises from the other day but stopped. This was not how he wanted to have that conversation. “Are we still friends?” he finally settles on.
“Yes.” He breathed a sigh of relief and let the blond go. He seemed a bit dizzy but otherwise physically unbothered by the control.
“Sorry, I had to know you meant it.”
“It wasn’t so bad. You should warn people before you use it though,” Katsuki advised, “It’s less intimidating that way.”
He smiled. “Right.”
…
He was excited. For as much time as they spent together, Hitoshi spent more time at the cabin than Katsuki. Because of this, he had to find ways to fill his time. One of those ways was exploring. He’d been waiting to show this to Katsuki all day.
He dragged the blond out of the cabin the moment Katsuki set his bag down. They trudged through the snow for a few minutes, following a trail Hitoshi made the day prior.
“Hitoshi, where are we going?” his friend whined.
He glanced back at him with a smile. “Don’t worry, we’re almost there!” He ran a bit ahead. Katsuki groaned as he chased after Hitoshi.
They finally pulled through to what seemed to be a small clearing. Upon closer inspection, it was revealed to be a frozen-over stream.
Katsuki stopped to catch his breath, “This is it? This is… What you had to show me so urgently?”
Hitoshi nodded excitedly.
“It’s a river,” Katsuki observed.
“Stream,” the younger one corrected, “Come on!” He didn’t hesitate before jumping straight onto the ice and falling on his back. Boisterous laughter filled the small clearing.
“Ha! You-” Katsuki snorted, “You dumbass, you’re not supposed to jump on it!”
Hitoshi whined from his place on the ice. “It’s not funny, Kat.”
Katsuki snorted again. “I dunno what you mean, that was hilarious!”
“You’re so mean to me, you overgrown sparkler!”
“Who’re you callin’ sparkler, Eyebags!” Hitoshi crossed his arms and pouted. He looked ridiculous pouting flat on his back on the ice like that. Katsuki made his way onto the ice and stood above his friend. The smaller boy was glaring at him but he looked more like an angry kitten than anything.
Katsuki planted his foot on the other’s side and shoved. He smirked when he heard Hitoshi giggle as he slid across the ice.
Yeah, this was worth the cold.
…
They were sitting on Katsuki’s bedroom floor. All different types of hair ties and clips littered the carpet around him. Well, Katsuki was on the floor. Hitoshi was sprawled across his bed with his head hanging off the side so he could be reached better.
“Ya know, your hair is perfect for this.”
Hitoshi huffed. “You say that like you’re not struggling to braid it.”
“I’m not struggling! Your hair is just being difficult.” There was a sharp tug on his scalp.
“Hey, be nice! It’s still attached to me.”
“I could change that.” Katsuki's hand wamed a bit.
Hitoshi just about ripped his head back. “You will do no such thing or I will make you tell that green haired guy about the time you got scared by a dandelion.”
Katsuki narrowed his eyes threateningly. “You wouldn’t dare.”
An innocent smile fell across Hitoshi's face. “You’re right,” he agreed. “I’d make you give him a live reenactment.”
The blond’s face went through shock, offence, and horror before settling into its usual scowl. Hitoshi shreaked during his short fall to Earth when he was aggressively pulled off the bed.
“That was so rude!” He grabbed a bright green butterfly clip and launched himself at the blond's spiky hair.
Their wrestling match came to a halt when Masaru came to check on them only to find Hitoshi holding Katsuki down and shoving every clip he could get his hands on into his hair while Katsuki growled like a feral demon.
Masaru made them separate.
Hitoshi wasn’t worried about Katsuki’s angry growling. If he really wanted Hitoshi off of him, he could do it himself with little problem. He was under no misconception that he was stronger than the blond with his tiny, slightly malnourished frame. It was nice to win sometimes though, even if it was fake.
…
“Those are your parents, yeah?” The blond was laying on the futon, the pictures of their families splayed out before him. Hitoshi glanced at the photos from his work. The one of his family was unfolded.
Hitoshi nodded.
“Why did you fold it then?”
“Why do you only carry a picture of your dad?” Hitoshi asked defensively.
A scowl sat comfortably on Katsuki’s face again. “I meant you don’t live with them anymore. What happened?”
“Are we swapping sob stories now?”
“Tch. You’re so difficult.” Katsuki went back to looking over the pictures. Hitoshi glanced at him again.
He sighed, “I fold it because I don’t want to see her.”
“Why?” Hitoshi rolled his eyes. This kid doesn’t know when to quit.
“Because.”
“Because why?”
“ Because. There’s no point in caring about someone who doesn’t care about you.” He turned back to his work, aggressively erasing his last sentence.
Katsuki watched him for a moment. “What about your dad?”
Screeching tires, yelling, a gun, then silence. Horrible silence.
“You care about him?” Katsuki prodded.
“Yes.”
“But you don’t live with him.”
“... You can’t live with the dead, Katsuki.”
…
They fell into a sort of balance over the next couple years. Neither of them made any direct action towards the shitty adults they were with, but they helped each other out on the bad days. The fear of being moved to a new home was always looming over Hitoshi so they spent as much time together as they could.
Unfortunately, his fears weren’t unfounded. He didn’t know who had ratted out Family Five but he was going to find them, yell at them, and cry. He didn’t even make it to lunch before he was being called down to the office. He had assumed that Family Five had just reached a new level and decided to take him out of school for a while.
The police uniforms were a give away. This was about something else. He almost turned around and left when he saw them but he made eye contact with one of the officers and he couldn’t just pretend he didn’t see them after that. So he had to sit through them explaining that Family Five was under investigation and he was to stay somewhere else until they were either cleared or he was assigned a new home. According to the officers, his social worker was out of town and so he would be staying at the station or with one of the officers until they got back.
He was too busy thinking about this being his worst nightmare to remember that quirk descrimination was still a thing and even law enforcement was susceptible to it. He only realized something was wrong when the officers were stopped by a detective. He asked them a couple of questions and Hitoshi only started paying attention when the man’s tone became more serious.
“You can’t hold a child in interrogation nor can you interrogate them without a parent or lawyer present, or was that not made clear to you in basic?” he didn’t give time for a response. “Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t want to have to deal with you lying to me. I’ll take it from here.” The officers shared a look before giving an unwilling ‘yes, sir’ and leaving.
The man sighed through his nose and turned his attention to Hitoshi. “I’m sorry about that. I’m Detective Tsukauchi. You’re from the Ikeda case right?” If Hitoshi recalled correctly, that was Family Five.
He gave a slight nod.
“Good, come with me.” Detective Tsukauchi took him back down the hall and explained that he would be staying with a pro hero until further notice. Hitoshi thought it was a bit extreme to place him with a pro. Surely they have much better things to be doing than watching him .
…
Eraserhead, or Aizawa Shouta, as he was told to call him, was a scruffy looking man who seemed he could use a good week long coma with how tired he was. He showed Hitoshi around his apartment, explaining that his fiance was at work but he would meet him later that night. He wasn’t too keen on meeting this mystery fiance. If he’d learned anything it was that children strained relationships. He wasn’t really in the mood to deal with the fall out of an engagement.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when something brushed his leg. He looked down to find a calico cat twining through his feet for attention.
“That’s Sushi.” He paused, furrowing his brow for a moment. “You’re not allergic to cats are you?” Hitoshi shook his head. Quite the opposite, actually, he loved cats. “Good. She’s friendly, you can pet her if you want. We have another cat, Snowball, he’s around somewhere.”
Hitoshi didn’t move, only looking between the cat and its owner. He didn’t trust this, it had to be some kind of test.
After an awkwardly long moment of staring, Aizawa decided the kitchen was the best place to retreat from the situation. Once he was out of sight, Hitoshi knelt and gave the cat a few scratches behind the ears. She purred loudly, rubbing against his fingers.
He stood quickly as the footsteps returned. Sushi wined at him, pushing hard against his legs for his attention. Aizawa leaned back into the room, looking between him and Sushi.
His lips twitched and he looked back at Hitoshi. “I’m gonna start dinner, curry alright?” Hitoshi stared at him again then gave a nod. Curry was a safe bet.
Hitoshi met Aizawa’s fiance at dinner. He also turned out to be a pro hero. Present Mic. He told Hitoshi he could call him Hisashi or Yamada, whichever he was comfortable with. He was friendlier than Aizawa but he asked a lot of questions and talked a lot. Hitoshi didn’t answer anything beyond a nod or a head shake, just eating his curry so he could leave.
…
He couldn’t sleep. As much as insomnia and fear kept him up most nights, that wasn’t the problem tonight. He was actually tired tonight. But when he tried to settle in and just sleep away his problems, he found that everything was just too much. The bed was too soft. Too far from the shitty mattresses at his previous homes or the familiar futon in the cabin. The noises were all wrong too. Here, the sounds of the city outside the apartment were overwhelming. The shuffling of Aizawa or the cats in another room grating on his ears. It was too different from the sounds of run down neighborhoods he was used to. Or the sound of wind and animals at the cabin. Painfully lacking in his friends crackly snores.
The longer he stayed awake, the more he noticed, and the more he noticed the longer he was awake in an obnoxious never-ending cycle. He glanced at the carpeted floor. Pulling his pillow and blanket with him, he settled into a pile onto it instead of the bed.
If he closed his eyes, he could pretend he was at Katsuki’s house. The food he’d been so quick to eat wasn’t made by his new guardian. It was a new dish Masaru was having him try. If he buried his face in his blanket, he could let the sweet smell pull him back to winter nights sharing a futon with Kat. The overwhelming warmth was from the heater and his friend who naturally ran hot instead of a warm apartment.
He could pretend.
…
As loath as he was to admit it, he found himself settling in with Aizawa and Yamada. He still didn’t talk to them but surprisingly they didn’t seem to mind. They even adjusted to try and help him. It was weird.
He went to a new school too now. It was nicer than most he’d been to. The kids were mostly the same, though they didn’t bother Hitoshi as much here. Probably because he didn’t talk and they got bored.
Somehow, he did make a friend. Shouto. He was new as well, kids wouldn’t leave him alone at first but, like Hitoshi, eventually they got tired of waiting for him to talk to them. Well, talk to them nicely, that is. He was quiet but he would tell people to go away. That they couldn’t meet his father. Hitoshi didn’t know who his dad was but he didn’t really care that much either.
He and Shouto were partnered up for a group project in class once and came to a mutual understanding quite quickly. They didn’t talk much but after that they spent most of their school free time around each other.
He hadn’t thought he’d make another friend after Katsuki but he supposed Shoto wasn’t so bad. Maybe one day he could introduce them.