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Hitoshi feels as if he's going to vibrate out of his skin. He's not yet in class 1-A but right now he's seated in the last row anyway, because during a training exercise that he was allowed to join there was a mishap with a quirk from one of the people who were supposed to play victims and now he's here.
He grinds his teeth together, trying to keep the words rising up in his throat trapped where they belong and he forces himself to listen to Aizawa.
"The quirk you all were hit with forces you to say something that you've kept trapped inside for too long to someone who can hear you. That will mean something different for everyone. The discomfort you feel right now will only get worse until the end of the day when the quirk apparently runs its course.” Midoriya raises his hand but Aizawa only sighs. “No, I can't erase it for you. You either stick the pain out, knowing that it doesn't have any actual physical repercussions for you or you find someone you trust and who you can talk to; that decision is up to you," Aizawa explains to them and he looks about as unhappy about the situation as most of the class feels.
"Classes are obviously cancelled for the rest of the day, so I suggest you decide what to do with your time now. Remember, we teachers are here for you, too, if you have something to say," Aizawa reminds them and Hitoshi shrinks down in his chair when Aizawa's unwavering gaze falls on him.
Hitoshi knows what he's thinking, knows what Aizawa must expect him to say, but Hitoshi won't do it.
He'll endure the pain and he'll keep his mouth shut; two things Hitoshi is extraordinarily good at and then come tomorrow no one will care about what his words would have been anyway.
Another wave of discomfort rolls through him when Hitoshi pushes himself to his feet and Aizawa's eyes are still on him.
"Shinsou," Aizawa calls out for him something like worry on his face, but Hitoshi only shakes his head and speeds out of the classroom, desperate to get away from people who might crack him and make him say whatever is trying to get out.
Hitoshi can guess what it is, what kind of desperate plea for help will leave his mouth and he's not going to do it.
Not again.
Not when it's not going to change anything, not when Aizawa doesn't really care, not when Hitoshi doesn't get to stay with—
He cuts himself off, because he learned early on that wishful thinking like that only ever hurts him in the long term and he's already hurt enough as it is. He learned his lesson on that already.
There's no need to add disappointment to it as well, especially not when the pain in his body gradually gets worse. As soon as he's in his room he hides himself away under the bed, where it's dark and safe and quiet and where people won't find him at first glance, not that it has ever done him any good if his foster parents were really determined.
Hitoshi distantly wonders if they were informed about the mishap, if they answered the phone and how badly he's going to get punished for making them have to pretend they are worried about him while he grinds his teeth together to not make a sound with the mounting pain wrecking his body.
He gets his phone out with shaky hands, but it's only barely past noon and so that means the quirk will last another twelve hours at least.
Hitoshi is very good at withstanding pain, but he's not sure he's going to survive this if it gets steadily more worse than this.
He toughs it out for another three hours, suffering in absolute silence under the bed, desperately keeping his mouth shut so the words threatening to come out won't have a chance, before the pain makes him whimper.
Hitoshi tries to remind himself that Aizawa said that this has no physical effect, that it's psychological at best and just stupid quirk shenanigans at worst, but his body feels as if it's being broken apart, as if he's being flayed alive and tears stream down Hitoshi's face before the hour is over.
He's used to pain, is used to suffering, but this is taking it to a new level.
Silent tears make it down his cheeks; even with this much pain he knows better than to make a sound, he's been taught better than to make his suffering someone else's problem, and he sticks it out for another hour.
He's not sure how he manages it, can't actually think past the pain filling his every cell and when his phone goes off he startles badly enough to make new pain shoot through him, causing him to let out a wet gasp.
Moving is an entire new form of hell but the only people who would ever call him are Aizawa and Yamada and he knows that if he doesn't answer, they are probably going to kick his door down in no time, so Hitoshi forces himself to move, forces himself to accept the call and then clenches his jaw so tightly shut that his muscles cramp up.
It's barely noticeably in between all the other pain that is assaulting him.
"Hey, there, little listener," Yamada's voice rings out into the absolute silence under Hitoshi's bed. "How are you doing?" he wants to know and Hitoshi is so distracted by the pain, that his usual snark doesn't kick in for which he's thankful for.
He really doesn't want to know what's going to come out of his mouth and worse, what Yamada is going to do about it.
"Shouta told me about the quirk. Are you still toughing it out?" Yamada asks and Hitoshi can't help the little whimper. "Ah, shit, kiddo," Yamada mutters and then everything goes muffled for a moment or ten.
Hitoshi isn't sure if it's because Yamada did something to cover the speaker or because of the pain and he's not actually going to ask because keeping his mouth shut means surviving this and that's all Hitoshi wants to do.
He doesn't even need to come out of this unscathed; even if the pain isn't physical, Hitoshi knows that pain like this changes a person. But it doesn't matter if he's the same once this ends; no matter what happens he's going to figure himself out again but for that he has to survive.
And the pain is not going to get him killed whereas the words beating against the back of his teeth just might.
"Hitoshi," Yamada sighs out, sounding pained and Hitoshi wishes he couldn't hear him over the rushing in his ears. "Please, you can tell us whatever it is you need to say," Yamada says and Hitoshi only clams his mouth shut harder.
He's not going to say it; he's not going to give them that kind of ammunition, will not allow them to hurt him with their inaction; or worse, with their actions that will leave him in the hands of someone else.
He won't do it.
"I know it must hurt, kiddo," Yamada goes on and Hitoshi would end the call but he can no longer move, his body locked up with the pain. "Just say it. We're here. No matter what it is, we're here to help you. We won't leave you alone with this."
There's something knowing to his voice, as if he already knows what Hitoshi is going to say, what he's so desperately trying to bite back and new tears spill over.
"Hitoshi, please. Trust us," Yamada whispers and Hitoshi is so, so fucked, because he does; deep down he trusts them more than anyone else and that realisation makes him gasp out a pained breath, makes him open his mouth the tiniest bit and that's all the words that are trapped need to come tumbling out.
"Somebody help me, please!" he wails out, curling into himself even as the pain almost immediately starts to lessen.
"Shouta, go now!" Yamada snaps out before he tries to calm Hitoshi down.
"Kiddo, it's okay, we're here, alright? We've got you, you don't have to worry about anything anymore. How are you feeling?"
Hitoshi sobs and he shakes and he feels as if he's coming apart and he gasps out a desperate "As if I'm dying," because it does feel like that.
It's out there. His cry for help is out there now and now Yamada and Aizawa get to hurt him by doing nothing, or by doing the wrong thing.
It's all going to come down now, everything is going to crumble because he's just not strong enough and Hitoshi almost chokes on his sobs.
Yamada continues to say something to him but Hitoshi can no longer hear him over his crying. What he does hear though, is the door flying open and Hitoshi presses himself against the wall, further away from whoever just came in, whoever wants to hurt him.
"Hitoshi," Aizawa says, his voice suddenly near and he must be looking underneath the bed, but Hitoshi can't see anything through his tears. "Oh, kid," Aizawa mutters and then there's movement, Hitoshi can feel it and he braces himself because usually that means someone is going to pull him out from under the bed.
But it's not him who is moving; it's Aizawa who is moving and who is shoving himself under the bed, slowly inching closer until he can pull Hitoshi into his arms.
"I've got you, Hitoshi," he says and Hitoshi only cries harder because he doesn't know for how much longer that is true.
Aizawa might have him now but he's going to get rid of him sooner rather than later and then Hitoshi will have nothing at all.
"Shhh, kid, you're safe, you're good, I'm so proud of you, thank you for saying something," Aizawa mutters and Hitoshi cries and cries and cries.
"Shou? How's he doing?" Yamada's voice eventually reaches Hitoshi and Hitoshi feels how Aizawa lets out a long breath.
"I don't know, he won't stop crying," Aizawa gives back and then Hitoshi is moved, like he feared all along and despite his struggles Aizawa manages to pull him out from under the bed, even though he keeps him in his arms still.
"Hitoshi, kiddo, what's going on?" Yamada asks, stealing him right out of Aizawa's arms to settle him in his lap and hold him close and even though Hitoshi wants to push him away, wants to run and never come back, he clings to his shirt and buries his face in his chest as he continues to cry.
"Hitoshi," Aizawa says, somewhat helpless even as he crowds close and puts an arm around Hitoshi's middle and it's so warm and so safe and he'll never get to have this again.
"Please don't get rid of me," Hitoshi finally manages to get out, his voice warbled from his tears and the quirk might still have an effect on him because it feels as if those words have been dragged out from the deepest place within him.
"We're not, Hitoshi, we're not going to get rid of you," Yamada immediately says and it does exactly nothing to stop Hitoshi's tears.
He knows better than to believe empty promises.
"You're going to stay with us, Hitoshi, we're not letting you go," Aizawa says and Hitoshi just—stops.
It feels as if even the tears running down his cheeks slow down.
"What?" he breathes out, doesn't dare to believe, but hope is blooming in his chest so rapidly, so violently that it takes his breath away.
"Hitoshi, you're going to stay with us, no matter what. If you want that. We're going to be your foster parents, you won't ever have to go somewhere where they hurt you ever again," Yamada tells him and when Hitoshi manages to look over at Aizawa he nods.
"You're with us now, kid," Aizawa promises him as well and just like that, Hitoshi is crying again.
But where before it was out of pain and helplessness, now his tears are full of relief and hope.
"Please, please," he chants, clinging to Yamada's shirt and reaching out for Aizawa's, too, trying to keep them there, to keep them close and Yamada tightens his arms around him while Aizawa shuffles even closer.
"Of course, kiddo, we're here," Yamada mutters into his hair and Aizawa fully embraces them both.
"It's okay, Hitoshi. It will all be okay."
It's something Hitoshi learned not to believe; words, Hitoshi learned never to trust and yet.
And yet it feels as if it could be true, as if Aizawa and Yamada could really mean it, as if it might happen simply because they want it to.
It's scary, and horrible, and wonderful, and warm, and the most terrifying thing all at once and despite it all, Hitoshi decides to trust.
He decides to trust Aizawa and Yamada, just this once.
(And for once, everything turns out exactly right.)