Chapter Text
μεράκι
[may-rah-kee] noun. Passion: intense desire or sorrow.
Commonly interpreted as:
“ When you leave a piece of yourself, your soul, creativity, and love in what you do. To put a little bit of yourself into something”
Ren knows he’s lucky.
He knows he has been lucky in life, even with all the bad luck he’s had. He’s lucky to have brothers who didn’t hesitate to run away as long as it meant he stopped treating drug addicts; he’s lucky because Fuku was never seriously injured during his time as a vigilante; he’s lucky because they met a hero who was willing to help them. He is lucky because, despite everything that happened, he can still walk the halls of U.A. as just another student, even though his real goal is to study after obtaining his hero licence.
It’s ironic; when Kazumi and Fuku decided to run away just to give him a better life, they probably didn’t think that his time surrounded by badly injured drug addicts would instil in him a love for medicine. Indeed, any normal person you ask wouldn’t expect a 10-year-old boy to fall in love with medicine after being forced to treat the wounds of people who didn’t care about their own health. But for him it wasn’t like that; for him, that time spent locked away within those four walls, reeking of tobacco, blood and death, revealed his true purpose in life. Even under constant pressure and the shouting filled with profanity that a 10-year-old definitely shouldn’t have heard, even with all that, seeing how his hair stitched up wounds and his hands worked of their own accord to heal injuries, he fell in love with medicine.
After having to deal with needle pricks and the resulting infections, after having to treat wounds caused by cigarette ends, or even after having to stitch up minor head wounds that Fuku had somehow managed to inflict on himself. None of his experiences had managed to dissuade him from the possibility of becoming a doctor, perhaps even a surgeon. He hadn’t spent much of his free time since the age of twelve reading medical books instead of young adult novels just to give up now.
The plan was already in place, a plan for the next 6 to 10 years that he and Fuku had discussed, with a few disappointed comments from Kazumi about how everyone around her wanted to be heroes and left her alone as an ordinary civilian. He would go to U.A. to become a professional hero and be able to use his Quirk to defend others and heal without having to deal with extra paperwork. At the end of the day, his Quirk was perfectly suited to combat. In fact, if he used it in one of the ways Aizawa and Fuku had suggested, he could kill someone without anyone realising who the killer was if he managed to thin his hair enough to make it imperceptible to the human eye; but Ren had far too much respect for life to do that.
Apart from the killer instinct that Fuku and Aizawa undoubtedly shared as Underground Heroes, they had suggested various ways in which he could use his Quirk as a rescue hero or even as a field hero. To tell the truth, without wishing to inflate either of their egos, they had been the real reason he’d finally agreed to give heroism a go in the first place. As much as Kazumi hated it, growing up surrounded by two heroes who were willing to give their lives just to save one or two others changed his personal outlook on the world.
Being a surgeon and being a professional hero weren’t mutually exclusive; Ren didn’t have to be exclusively one or the other. His Quirk was versatile enough to be used to help in various aspects of society, contrary to what several children at the orphanage had tried to make him believe.
His siblings couldn’t have been prouder; after all, all the effort they’d put in to give him a better life since they’d fled the orphanage had been for this very reason. So that Ren could choose to study and do whatever he wanted with his life. He knew that whatever decision he made, Fuku and Kazumi would be proud. They were already proud to have seen him grow into the person he is; they’d told him that often enough that he could never forget it.
And yet, he knew that the fact he was starting to want to be a hero bothered Kazumi. He could see it in the way she behaved whenever it was mentioned. Ren wasn’t stupid; he’d grown up surrounded by people who were overly observant and had picked up a thing or two from their skills. Besides, he’d been living with her day in, day out for nearly three years; he could read her perfectly. The way Kazumi’s shoulders tensed every time heroism was mentioned, as if she were already dreading the injuries and hospital visits she was mentally preparing herself to endure, given that most of the people close to her would end up in hospital so often that she would end up spending more nights surrounded by white walls and the smell of disinfectant than on her mattress covered in the expensive green bed linen set that Yamada had sought out last year exclusively to give her for Christmas; he hadn’t made the final choice at all, of course not. Or perhaps her younger siblings would end up being taken to the mortuary for identification, or perhaps she would simply have the misfortune of having to cling to the spare clothes left at home as the only memento of the person they knew who had disappeared. Perhaps she would even have to face thousands of reporters and smile for the camera whilst watching the body of one of the people she had known since they were babies being lowered into the ground, all the while pretending not to be overcome by grief
Even he knows she wouldn’t be the first relative of a hero to have to go through this; Aizawa had seen enough funerals of heroes and witnessed how their families were judged for the way they mourned by journalists and online forums that had never seen those heroes in person, only in photos online.
And the worst part was that he knew there was no way he could allay Kazumi’s fears; he himself had sat in the waiting room for hours, surrounded by white walls that smelled of disinfectant and lights that gave him a headache, waiting to see Fuku ever since he’d decided to become a proper hero. He himself had been forced to watch as the world around him judged his every move as if he were a celebrity rather than a child waiting to see his brother in a hospital bed. He himself had had to deal with rude nurses who turned their noses up at him when, to them, he was just a 13-year-old boy interrupting their conversation about the latest gossip from the Heroes’ Billboard whilst looking for the patient they were supposed to be attending to, who was actually a professional hero.
Aizawa had told him this when they discussed it before bringing the situation up with any of his brothers. The lives of professional heroes are constantly at risk; every patrol, every mission, every action a hero takes, if it isn’t the right one, can end in their death or the death of a civilian. Every action taken by professional heroes was judged, and they could never be great enough to escape negative opinions; there would be no one other than All Might who would have such a positive opinion, and even he did not escape criticism outside of Japan.
Heroes were public figures just like any other celebrity, except that, unlike other public figures, their actions could result in the death of a defenceless civilian. The life of a hero was not an easy one; it meant risking one’s life for civilians who, by the next day, would either have forgotten them or criticised them for the slightest mistake. He knew that Aizawa was making sure he understood everything that being a hero entailed, but he also really wanted to scare him so that he would grasp the full implications of the profession. Ren knew that Aizawa was not willing to let him get hurt and regret his decision as he began his journey to becoming a professional hero.
But even so, the attempts to scare him were in vain.
After all, how effective could a few simple words be when he had already seen his brother bleeding profusely right in front of him on multiple occasions? Ren had spent the last few years of his childhood witnessing what heroes could do to villains, and during his early teenage years, he had seen the injuries villains could inflict on heroes. He had seen both sides of the coin often enough to truly grasp what it meant to be a hero, what it meant to know that every patrol could be his.
Even so, it wasn’t easy to convince Kazumi to actually give him permission to study at U.A.
He’d heard every word of the argument Fuku and she’d had when he told them of his decision to study the Hero Course at U.A. Kazumi hated the idea and blamed Fuku entirely for putting those thoughts into his head. He knew full well that, in a way, she was right; much of his inspiration to become a hero had come from Fuku, Aizawa and Yamada. Three great pillars of his life who had shaped him and taught him to see the world through different eyes. The Shiokazes knew many heroes besides the two teachers; they knew Midnight both in and out of character; they knew the Iida family; and they had got to know several U.A. teachers well enough for him to consider them influences or even inspirations.
Although, in a way, he felt it was a bit hypocritical. By the time Ren began to wishto become a hero, Hitoshi had already started living with them. Ever since Hitoshi had started living in the same flat with them, one thing had been clear about him.
Hitoshi wanted to be a hero.
No one had ever questioned him; even when he finally gained the trust of the three Shiokaze brothers, no one ever questioned his desire to become a hero. Inside the flat, the fact that Hitoshi wanted to be a hero was accepted as a given, just like the sky being blue or water being wet. It was a fact of daily life for them that didn’t affect them.
Meanwhile, his decision was met with skepticism.
There were questions to ensure he was truly certain of his decision, and a promise to review cases solved by Aizawa to ensure that the gory or unpleasant aspects of the job wouldn’t put them off trying it, although that last point was actually offered to both aspiring heroes.
Would Hitoshi feel envious knowing that Ren was questioned at every turn on his path to choosing heroism? Or would he be happy that he could breathe easy without being questioned about the choice he had made?
Fuku agreed with the decision he had made, even if he wasn’t willing to say so out loud. He was happy that his younger brother was taking control of his own life, even if the people around him didn’t agree with it. Although Ren actually suspects that a large part of the reason he is so happy with his choice is because they can now be sure that he chose his own path and didn’t let his childhood actions guide him for the rest of his life.
Fuku had tried to help him convince Kazumi of this, even though it ended in an argument that neither of them seemed to realise the other two flatmates could hear almost in full.
Kazumi had been a different story.
Everyone who really knew the Shiokaze family had noticed the change in Kazumi’s personality whenever she heard anything related to heroism. The way she acted, revealing her obvious tension on the subject, as if she were already mentally preparing herself to have to identify the birthmarks on her brothers’ naked, disfigured bodies. It had cost her more than her fight with Fuku to accept the new reality her younger brother had presented her with. She had needed a chat with professional heroes to finally be able to face the new reality. However terrifying it seemed to her. After all, her family was full of experts at deception. Although someone really ought to have told Kazumi that the way she was covering up her lies wasn’t enough to stop her siblings from seeing through her. Even so, they let it slide; Kazumi needed a win after all the heart stopping moments she’d had to deal with since having to rush to the hospital to check on her family members.
When he finally got permission from his two siblings to join U.A., he began training with Aizawa. Even when Aizawa tried to hide just how much he cared for the siblings, something would always happen that showed them the affection he truly felt for them.
With Hitoshi, however, it was a different story.
It wasn’t hard to see that Aizawa’s relationship with Hitoshi was similar to his relationship with Fuku, because although Fuku was his brother, the bond they shared with Aizawa was different from Fuku’s. Fuku had always been closer to Aizawa, perhaps because on more than one occasion they had saved each other’s lives before they had even met as civilians. Fuku had been willing to save Aizawa’s skin more than once, even if it meant risking capture by a hero and being taken to the police station where the detective with the lie-detector Quirk worked.
Kazumi and Ren were closer to Yamada; the man was simple and calm when he wasn’t trying to act out the extroverted personality he had as a hero. Yamada constantly sought to check in on them about anything he could; he wanted to be present in their lives and for them to understand that he wasn’t just being close to them out of a sense of obligation because they were Fuku’s siblings. Yamada wanted them to realise that he cared about them just as much, even if Aizawa didn’t know how to put it into words. Yamada acted as a sort of father figure to them, without ever really interfering in their decisions, simply offering advice when they wanted the opinion of someone who hadn’t watched them grow up.
Even so, Aizawa had a special bond with Fuku which, in a way, was later reflected in his relationship with Hitoshi. It was the same words Kazumi had once said to him when Ren first told him about the differences he’d noticed.
"In a way, I think Aizawa sees himself reflected in Fuku. That willingness Fuku has to help no matter the cost, that moral grey area where he isn’t afraid to do things if they’re for the greater good".
Ren believes it is the same reason why Aizawa is so close to Hitoshi; what Aizawa lacked in physical resemblance to Fuku, he had with Hitoshi. Perhaps he saw his own past reflected in the lilac haired boy he had only met a few months ago. It wasn’t hard to see that, even as a teacher, Aizawa struggled with children; ever since he’d met Ren and Hitoshi, he’d tried his utmost to win them over. For him, it was essential to be on good terms with everyone in the Shiokaze flat. However, Ren had noticed how Aizawa made a special effort to get close to Hitoshi, as if he were a frightened cat. Even if he wanted to, Ren couldn’t bring himself to feel truly jealous; Hitoshi had been through far worse than him, so why should he be jealous that one of his guardians was, in a way, trying to tame him. Ren was sure that if it were up to Aizawa, there would be paperwork being filled out from them to adopt Hitoshi.
There was something that neither Aizawa nor Fuku were telling them about the U.A. entrance exam. They knew something that Ren and Hitoshi didn’t, and they had no intention of telling them before the exam. Both of them had noticed it: the way Aizawa had started training them once the entrance exam was relatively close had changed, as if he had a specific purpose. One they weren’t meant to know about, one that might ensure that one of them wouldn’t be able to get into U.A.
Neither of them was stupid; they both knew their quirks didn’t work in the same way. Hitoshi’s quirk was a mental one; it wasn’t hard to see that without a physical villain he could communicate with, his quirk was almost useless, especially given the physical training they were undergoing. Fuku and Aizawa had made that clear on more than one occasion; neither of them was at a level where they could attempt to fight completely without their quirks. If the entrance exam involved fighting using their quirks, only Ren would be able to get in.
Although Ren knew Hitoshi wouldn’t dare ask, he was prepared to seek answers for both of them. He knew Hitoshi would never dare to ask anyone directly about something like this; not Aizawa, not Yamada, not even Fuku. But he had no reason to hold his tongue.
Fuku was too good at keeping secrets to ask him, and Aizawa was definitely orchestrating all the secrecy surrounding the entrance exam. So Yamada was his target. Yamada as a hero was terrifying; there were very few people who had actually seen him in action as the terrifying hero he truly was. Although, luckily for him, Yamada was a hero who was close enough to them that he could question him.
Within their strange family circle, Leta had a special fondness for Ren. Whereas Hitoshi was the child they would adopt if he himself agreed to sign the papers, so, for once, they were going to use her affection to their advantage.
“Yamada, you wouldn’t be so cruel as to not tell us why Fuku looks at us sadly every time we finish training?” Ren batted his eyelashes whilst Hitoshi behind him swallowed his sorrow and tried to make his eyes look innocent enough to fool Yamada.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied brazenly, knowing full well that he’d be found out.
“Really?” Ren began again. “Because I clearly remember seeing you talking to Fuku last week about how he shouldn’t feel guilty for keeping that secret”.
Perhaps Aizawa and Yamada hadn’t realised it yet, but Ren was just as observant as Fuku. It was one of the first things Fuku had tried to teach him as soon as they fled: having little awareness of what’s going on around you could end up killing you, and that was a risk neither of them wanted to take. Behind him, Ren realised that Hitoshi didn’t know this, and, to tell the truth, it wasn’t something he’d wanted to tell him. Ren knew that if the entrance exam was going to affect anyone, it wouldn’t be him; it would be Hitoshi, and he didn’t want to see him feeling down about it.
“You’ve got better observational skills than you let on,” Yamada simply replied with a smile on his face, “but I’m afraid I promised to keep my mouth shut about this.”
“Even if that means I can’t get into U.A.?” Hitoshi asked in a weak voice.
In the original plan, they weren’t supposed to play on Yamada’s emotions to see if he’d agree to give them information, but after hearing his idea, Hitoshi himself had offered to speak in whatever way was necessary to get the information they wanted.
And it seemed to have worked; Yamada’s face showed the emotional conflict he was feeling at that moment, whilst his eyes seemed to be analysing what he should say next. His expression finally settled on a tight smile, and perhaps even a slightly forced one.
“I can’t say much; I promised not to say anything at all. I’ll just say that even if the first option doesn’t work, we have a Plan B so that you can both be heroes”.
“So I’m not going to pass the exam,” said Hitoshi in a barely audible voice. “I’m going to fail after all”.
Yamada’s sorrowful gaze spoke volumes more than his words ever had.
“Hey, kiddo,” Yamada began again before being interrupted
“Leave it to me, Hizashi,” said Fuku, entering the kitchen. “They want answers, and they won’t leave without them.”
Yamada looked him in the eye.
“I’ll handle it. You’re probably too old to deal with them anyway.”
A small chuckle escaped Yamada’s lips.
“Then I’ll leave here and pretend to Shouta that I didn’t hear this conversation.”
"Do you want the straight truth, or shall we pretend we’re talking nonsense?" Fuku asked bluntly. "You don’t deserve for me to beat about the bush when I know the answer".
"Tell us everything," replied Ren.
"You and I both know I can’t tell you everything about the exam, but I can tell you what you already know," Fuku sighed before continuing. "I’ll be blunt: there’s no easy way for Hitoshi to pass the entrance exam".
Fuku looked him straight in the eye for a second.
"I'm not trying to be cruel; it's simply a fact. The entrance exam isn’t designed so that people without striking quirks can pass it. U.A. still needs investors, so the only thing Nedzu can do to stop them from interfering any further is to let them set the entrance exam. It’s awful, but otherwise they might have a say in everything once the students are in. Perhaps if you’d been training with us for longer you could pass it, but you’ve only been here a few months. There’s no way you could get into U.A. with your current level of training."
Ren turned to look at him for a moment.
Hitoshi looked defeated, as if those words were a bucket of cold water being poured over his head, confirming all the fears he’d had since childhood. Fuku looked at his brother with a guilty expression, whilst Ren merely gave him a sigh and a nod to come closer.
Fuku moved to stand beside Hitoshi in an instant, and as soon as Fuku was within Hitoshi’s line of sight, the younger boy spoke.
“I’m not going to be able to become a hero,” Hitoshi said, as if stating a truth he hadn’t wanted to accept.
Fuku looked at him, conflicted, for a moment.
“I’m going to tell you something I’m not supposed to tell you,” Fuku paused for a second. “You’re going to get into U.A., but you won’t be joining the Hero Course. I’ll make sure you get in, but I want you to know that it is possible to transfer classes. It’s not very common and hardly ever mentioned, but Shota did it, and believe me when I say he’ll do everything in his power to make sure you can do it too.”
Hitosi’s eyes met Fuku’s.
“You’re going to be a hero. If I have to fight Nedzu myself to make that happen, I will. Understood? I won’t leave you on your own in this. You’ll have me, Ren, Kazumi and the love struck lovebirds. But you’ll have a support network for everything.”
To anyone who didn’t know Hitoshi personally, it would have seemed as though he hadn’t reacted at all to those words. But they knew him; it wasn’t hard for them to tell from the way his mouth tightened and his fingers twitched that Hitoshi felt like crying.
“Cry if you want to, Hitoshi. No one will say a word; you’re safe here.”
Tiny, timid tears welled up in Hitoshi’s eyes.
“You’ll be a hero, I promise.”