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Hitoshi's hands tremble as he takes the test from Midnight's hands.
He already knows what it's going to say, only by the look on her face and just like he feared, it's bad. Hitoshi didn't fail, but it's close. It's a matter of one point and knowing Midnight, it's a pity point, too.
Which doesn't make anything better.
"Shinsou, stay after class," she says before she turns to the next student, handing out other tests and Hitoshi grits his teeth together so hard his jaw aches.
He stays, because of course he does, what else is he supposed to do, but he keeps his head bowed and his gaze lowered as he steps up to her desk.
He knows what's coming after all.
"Shinsou, you're still aiming for the hero course, right?" she asks as if she doesn't know, as if Hitoshi doesn't know that her and Aizawa are friends, as if she hasn't helped during training occasionally.
"Yes," he still dutifully replies, because he might be too stupid for art history but he damn well knows what's expected of him.
"You'll have to do better than that, then," Midnight tells him with a grimace. "A failing grade can be reason enough to keep you out of the hero course."
It's laughable. It's goddamn fucking stupid because the entrance exam to UA's hero course is a goddamn fight against robots and has nothing at all to do with grades but of course.
Of course for him it's suddenly so important to pass a field that won't ever be relevant in his work and for a brief moment Hitoshi trembles with rage, with how unfair all of this is, before he boxes it all up and packs it away.
He can't lose his shit here—Midnight is hardly at fault for the fucked system and it's his own goddamn fault for not studying more, anyway, so he nods and mutters something appropriate and then leaves and hides himself away.
He'll have to do better than this next time.
~*~*~
Yamaguchi backhands Hitoshi almost as soon as he comes into the kitchen.
"The fuck is this shit?" he sneers out, sweeping a hand out to indicate all of the kitchen but Hitoshi doesn't dare look and instead keeps his head down and his gaze respectfully lowered.
He knows better than to speak.
"You'll have to do better than that if you want to earn yourself some dinner," Yamaguchi says, haughty as anything and Hitoshi bites his tongue because fuck him.
He's in the middle of goddamn cooking, what does he expect the kitchen to look like and it's not as if Hitoshi doesn’t clean up after himself.
Once dinner is done, the kitchen will be absolutely goddamn spotless but cooking is a messy procedure, which Yamaguchi would know if he did it himself every once and again.
But Hitoshi says none of these things, because it would only get him into trouble and his ribs are still hurting from the last beating he took, so he only mutely nods his head and Yamaguchi puts a hand to his head and shoves him away.
"Get to it, you fucking freak," he mutters and Hitoshi dutifully returns to his cooking duties, already knowing that he won’t get any of the food he's cooking that day.
He brought attention to himself, no matter how stupid and unfair, and that means eating is out of the question for him today.
Maybe he really needs to be better after all, because he should have seen that coming and should have prepared accordingly, maybe cleaned up more in between steps but now it's too late and Hitoshi fucked up once again.
At least that's nothing new.
~*~*~
Hitoshi doesn't get to spend a lot of time with Class 1 A outside of training exercises Aizawa drags him to, but every now and then, they ask him to join them during lunch or invite him for a movie night, clearly already anticipating that he'll be transferred into their class soon.
He's glad for the opportunity to ease himself into it, because it's not as if he has a lot of experience with interacting with peers and these small doses are something he feels he can handle.
Class 1 A is a rowdy bunch though, and movie nights are already pushing his tolerance for other people around him, but he's getting better. Slowly but surely he can stand their presence for longer and longer, doesn't flinch anymore when someone yells or curses or things get loud and hectic and even when some of them press in close or hang off his shoulders, he takes it with grace and no longer with a suppressed flinch and a subsequent panic attack.
It's the small things, really.
Hitoshi is still not sure how much he's allowed to talk with them, though, if he's allowed to ask questions at all and so he keeps fairly quiet when in their presence.
Not that it seems to matter much because they are all loud enough to more than make up for it but every now and then Hitoshi finds some courage in himself and makes a comment, a little quip, just to test the waters.
They don't always land, because Hitoshi is nothing but awkward around other people, but someone usually laughs and today, Hitoshi's comment seems to have been funny enough to make most of the class laugh.
Most of them.
"If you wanna weasel your way into our group, you'll have to do better than that," Ojiro says, even as most of the others are still chuckling and suddenly, everything falls quiet as Ojiro gets up and walks away.
Hitoshi knows where this animosity is coming from, knows that Ojiro is still mad about what happened during the sports festival but he doesn't know what to do about it.
He is not going to apologise for using his quirk like he was supposed to and that leaves him with precious little options.
"Don't listen to him, you're already part of our group," Mina says, effectively jolting him out of his gloomy thoughts and bumping their shoulders together.
"Yeah, man, don't take his words to heart," Sero chimes in and then Denki does something very Denki and everyone forgets about Ojiro.
Everyone except Hitoshi, it seems, because he knows Ojiro is right.
He'll have to do better if he truly wants a place amongst them, but he isn't quite sure what to do about it.
~*~*~
Hitoshi curses as the capture weapon falls short of the intended target, again.
He can't quite get it right, there's a flick to the wrist he has trouble grasping and no matter how often Aizawa demonstrates it for him, he simply doesn't understand.
"You'll have to do better than that," Aizawa's mild voice cuts through Hitoshi's already agitated thoughts and it's nothing he hasn't heard before, it's not a new sentiment to him at all, but somehow, it's worse.
It's so much worse today, and with everything that has been building up over the last week Hitoshi just—snaps.
"I can't do better than that!" he yells, right into Aizawa's face and throws the capture weapon on the ground. "This is already my best! I'm too stupid and too slow to do any better than what I've been trying all this goddamn time!"
Aizawa opens his mouth, clearly about to tell Hitoshi off, but Hitoshi is not done yet, surprisingly enough.
He isn't quite sure where all that rage inside of him is coming from exactly, and even though deep down he knows that Aizawa doesn't deserve this, his words were the straw that broke the camel's back and now he'll have to deal with the fallout.
It's not as if Hitoshi cares anymore, because he can't do any better.
"No threat and no punishment is going to change what a colossal fuck-up I am so you better cut your goddamn losses now and throw me away because I am not. Going. To. Fucking. Improve!"
Hitoshi is breathing hard when silence settles over the gym and a part of him wants to curl up and beg for forgiveness but a bigger part of him is done.
He's no good, and he'll never be any good and it's time he stops trying.
"Hitoshi—"
"I'm tired," Hitoshi interrupts Aizawa before he can even really start to say something. "I'm tired and I'm done. I can't do better and I will no longer be trying and I'm just—it's not going to happen, let's be real here." It's not something he ever wanted to accept but maybe it's time he stops fighting.
It's taking more strength than he has and there’s no way he can satisfy any of the expectations that are placed on him and continuing to try is only going to break him.
"I'm not going to be a hero, I'm not going to be a good student or a normal kid who gets to have friends or a good foster child and I think we all just have to accept that."
Hitoshi more than anyone, really, but he's done. No more trying. No more pretending to be someone he's so very clearly not.
"Thanks for trying anyway, I guess," he still tacks on, because Aizawa did spent a considerable amount of time on him and he must be mad.
Hitoshi doesn't dare to look at Aizawa, though, and he doesn't bend down to pick up the capture weapon either, because it's not as if he's going to need it anymore and he just turns around and walks away.
Or at least he tries to but Aizawa's snapped "Hitoshi!" stops him right in his tracks though it doesn't make him back down.
"What, gonna punish me, too?" he hisses and whirls around on his heels. "Well, take it from my foster father, it's not going to make me learn, no matter how much you beat me! Or are you going to threaten me, tell me I'm not going to make it into the hero course like this? News flash, I already know that I'm never gonna make it so you can spare us both the words!"
"I wasn't actually gonna do either of those things," Aizawa says and for all that he seems unaffected, Hitoshi can hear the underlying anger.
Great, getting beat up by his foster father probably has nothing on getting beat up by an enraged pro, but Hitoshi cannot for the life of him shut the fuck up.
"Wonderful, a secret third option. Hit me then, come on, out with it. It's not as if it's going to change anything!"
"You're doing great, Hitoshi," Aizawa says and just like that, all the fight leaves Hitoshi.
"What?" he breathes out, because it can't be.
No one has ever told him that before and for Aizawa to start now, moments before he's going to pummel him into the ground—that's just cruel.
"You're doing so great. You're a fast learner and your execution is almost flawless. You're stumbling over some of the finer details but you have the important groundwork all down."
"Don't fucking lie to me like that," Hitoshi mutters out because Aizawa just told him that he wasn't good enough.
"I'm not. I'm sorry I never said it before but pushing people, spurring them on to do better, to want to try to be better is just how I do things. You could have excelled that throw and I would have still told you to do better so you don’t get cocky. I'm sorry I never realised that you need a different approach."
"I don't need a fucking approach," Hitoshi hisses. "I just need the truth. And the truth is that I suck."
"You don't!" Aizawa snaps out and Hitoshi flinches back. "You don't suck! You're a good student, both academically and during training and you're a good person."
"Ha, right. Maybe ask Midnight about that," Hitoshi bitterly gives back, because the almost failed test is still haunting him. "I'm gonna fail her fucking class and then what?"
"And then nothing," Aizawa gives back. "You'll still transfer. Did she say you wouldn't?"
"Yeah."
"She's wrong. Half of my class are failing classes that are much more important than art history and they are still in the hero course. One failing grade is not enough to keep you out, just like one failed exercise is not enough reason for you to not become a hero. You're doing so well, kid, and I'm proud of you."
Hitoshi is mortified when those simple words are enough to turn him into a sobbing, blubbering mess and he half expects Aizawa to scoff and walk away from him for daring to make this his problem, but instead arms come up around him and pull him into a sturdy chest.
He's not even being crushed or suffocated—Aizawa just holds him, until Hitoshi can breathe again and his tears slow down.
"Better?" Aizawa finally asks and Hitoshi gives one weak nod, absolutely embarrassed by his behaviour, but Aizawa doesn't seem to be mad at all.
His gaze is very serious, though, when he pushes Hitoshi away from him.
"And now explain to me what that comment about your foster father was about. He beats you?"
Hitoshi opens and closes his mouth a few times, suddenly at a loss for words, but Aizawa simply waits him out, keeps his gaze on him, steady and almost comforting and so Hitoshi eventually shrugs.
"What does it matter?"
"It matters a great deal, because he shouldn't. Not for any reason, and certainly not as a punishment of any kind."
"It's not as if I'm going to learn otherwise, though," Hitoshi mumbles, the words he's been told all his life coming out easy and familiar and Aizawa makes a face at them.
"You already said it's not making you learn," he refutes. "and a beating is never a way to make someone learn anything. It's not right."
"That’s just my life, though," Hitoshi helpless gives back because it is.
He's not good enough, he's stupid and slow and dumb, and a beating is the only chance anyone has at making him learn. That's how it's always been.
"I'm saying it shouldn't be. And it's not going to be, not any longer," Aizawa decisively says, as if he has already come to a conclusion and before Hitoshi can understand what that even means, there are several phone calls taking place and then he's talking to too many people to count and during all of that people keep saying "Well done", "You're doing great" and worst of all "I'm proud of you for speaking up" and Hitoshi has no clue what's going on anymore.
But he can't deny that those words make him feel warm inside, make him want to cry and hide and smile and those urges are especially worse when it's Aizawa saying them.
And ever since Hitoshi's outburst he's saying them often.