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“I’m sorry. This wasn’t my idea,” Hitoshi says the moment he enters the classroom.
“What are you talking about?” Kaminari asks, a look of confusion on his face matched by the rest of Hitoshi’s classmates.
“What Aizawa-sensei is about to say. It wasn’t my idea, I promise, so please don’t get mad at me.” A note of pleading slips into his tone, and he can tell by the looks of subtle fear and intrigue, that he should be explaining more, but it's too late, because he feels a hand land on his shoulder and knows that it means Aizawa is here.
For the past two weeks, class 1-A has been undergoing intensive quirk training. An afternoon every day is dedicated to one student's quirk, and the rest of the class as well as Aizawa provide ideas and extra training for that one student. For most of the class, they’ve been excited for their day, itching to see what their peers have got to say.
Hitoshi had been dreading his.
He had made Aizawa promise to give him a heads up before his day, and true to his word, Aizawa texted him the previous night to tell him that his turn would be next. Hitoshi had immediately left his dorm room to head straight to the separate building just outside of the dorms that Aizawa lived in, and proceeded to plead and cry for several hours to get Aizawa to call it off. His adoptive father was not amused, but at least seemed to understand the severity of the nerves Hitoshi was feeling about this.
“I can’t- I can’t, Sensei, I’m going to hurt them, they’re going to hate me,” he sobbed, trying and failing to wipe the constantly falling tears from his face. Aizawa, in an attempt to be comforting, was rubbing Hitoshi’s back. He was very inexperienced with comforting others, and while this might not have worked for anyone else, Hitoshi was also wildly touch starved; so, it was fine for them.
“You’ve used your quirk on them before, haven’t you? They don’t hate you for that, why would this time be any different?”
“I-I don’t know, I just- I’m probably going to have to use it on them and-and I don’t- I don’t want to go too far,” he says, hiccuping and still trying to stop the flow of tears. “Please, you have to just skip mine. I’ll make up excuses afterward if people ask, but you have to skip me.”
“I’m not going to skip you.” Aizawa says dryly. He lifts his hand off of Hitoshi’s back, and leans back into the corner of the couch. “Look at me.”
Hitoshi shakily turns his head to meet the eyes of his mentor.
“They’re not going to hate you. UA is not like the other schools you’ve been to, and your classmates are not like the other students you’ve had to interact with. They understand needing to improve your quirk, and they won’t be horrified and upset at you needing their help to do so.”
“But-”
“No.” Aizawa interrupts. “Have you been upset when you needed to volunteer to help someone on their day?”
“No, but-”
“So, I’ll say it again: why are you any different? Their physical quirks are just as likely to hurt and injure someone as your psychic quirk is. There’s no difference.”
“Okay…” he mumbles, still unconvinced.
He still isn’t convinced the following morning, and despite their heart to heart the previous night, Aizawa seems weirdly excited for today, if his eerie smile is anything to go by.
“Today we’re focusing on Shinsou’s quirk.” He says, and brushes past Hitoshi to flop tiredly into his desk chair. “Normal lessons until lunch, then we’ll start the specialized training. Same as any other day, you all know the drill.”
Hitoshi wordlessly goes and takes his seat behind Midoriya, who spins around in his chair immediately.
“What was that all about?” He whispers.
“The quirk training I’m doing today.” he whispers back. “Aizawa-sensei told me what he’s planning on having you all do, and- and I just feel bad about it, is all.”
“Don’t feel bad!!” Midoriya says, still whispering but now more impassioned. “It’s just quirk training, we don’t want you to feel bad about it!”
“I guess.” He sighs, wanting the conversation to end.
“Hey, watch this.” Midoriya says, then leans into the aisle. “Hey, Kirishima!”
The red-head breaks out of his conversation with Kaminari, grinning brightly at Midoriya.
“Hey, man! What’s up?”
“Were you mad at me the other day when I had to use Detroit Smash on you?”
Kirishima looks shocked at the very idea. “What? No! It was awesome! Besies, it's not like I even got that hurt. It was good practice for my quirk too!”
“Great! That’s all I needed to hear.” He turns back to Hitoshi and raises his eyebrows. “See?”
“That’s different.”
“It’s not.” Midoriya rolls his eyes, laughing. “I for one am excited to see what we’ll do with your quirk.”
You won’t be for long , Hitoshi thinks miserably.
Hitoshi loves being in the hero course, and the slight variations between the lessons they get and the lessons he’d receive in general studies are always thrilling. Today, however, he can’t seem to focus at all. He made one last ditch effort to beg Aizawa to call his quirk training off during lunch, staying in the classroom to eat with his father.
“Are you sure we can’t just skip me?” He asks, sitting in Ojiro’s seat.
Aizawa sets down the jelly packet he’d been sucking the life out of, and levels Hitoshi with an unimpressed stare.
“Yes. I’m sure.”
His face falls. “But like, really sure?”
“Hitoshi,” Aizawa begins, lacing his fingers over his desk and giving Hitoshi a slightly disappointed look. “If you are this anxious about using your quirk on other people for training purposes, then I don’t know what exactly you expect to gain from attending UA’s hero course.”
Hitoshi’s eyes widen, a pit opening up in his stomach. Aizawa continues.
“I had thought you were passionate about becoming a hero, but time and time again you’ve shown signs of being afraid of the very idea of having to use your quirk on your classmates. I believe you could make an excellent hero, but at the rate you’re going, I’m worried about how exactly you expect to get there.”
He glues his eyes to the desk, food untouched and suddenly not feeling very hungry at all. His fingers twitch in his lap, and he brings them up to his eyes, feeling disconnected and underwater, and furiously rubs at the unshed tears. Fuck. Fuck! Is he getting expelled? Is Aizawa expelling him?
“I…” His voice cracks and he starts rubbing at his eyes even harder, because he can’t fucking cry for the second time in like twelve hours. “I’m sorry, Sensei. I’m really sorry, I’ll do better, I promise. I’ll use it more, I promise, I’ll do really well today, please, just- please don’t expel me, please.”
He can’t look up, can’t bear to see Aizawa’s expression. What if this is it? What if, not only is he getting expelled, but Aizawa is also finally realizing how much work it is to deal with Hitoshi? He’s been waiting for the other shoe to drop ever since Aizawa first brought up wanting to take him in, but against his better judgment, Hitoshi had wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe that Aizawa wasn’t just going to get rid of him. This might really be it, though.
“I’m not going to expel you.” His head whips up, heart throbbing in his chest, but Aizawa doesn’t look angry or anything like that. Maybe he’s okay.
“You- you’re not?”
Aizawa sighs, leaning forward on his desk and rubbing his forehead. “No, I’m not expelling you. I know you’re trying your best, but you do need to get over your worry about using your quirk. We’ll start out smaller at first when the rest of the class comes back from lunch, but I do have plans for what I’d like you to try.”
Hitoshi nods, feeling a firm new determination. Aizawa may not be expelling him this time, but he could feel how close he’d gotten to his worst nightmare coming true, which just means he’ll need to try all that much harder.
“Okay. I’ll do my best.”
“I know you will. Try and eat some, alright?”
“Alright.” Hitoshi breathes out slowly, trying to calm his fraying nerves. He’s still in, and this will be another chance for him to prove himself.
“Hey, so, uh, sorry about this.” Hitoshi says to Todoroki, already feeling guilty but trying not to look or sound it, considering Aizawa and the rest of their class are observing him very closely.
Todoroki stares back blankly. No answer, though Hitoshi probably should have figured that.
“Like, really. It’s kind of awkward. I just feel like I’m talking to myself right now.”
Kirishima laughs from one side of the gym, where his class are all seated on the floor against the mirrored wall to watch. Bakugou elbows him, and Kirishima covers his mouth.
He sticks his hands in his pockets. This really is awkward. He’s supposed to get Todoroki to answer him, but he’s currently sort of at a loss on how exactly to do that. Todoroki is notorious for his cold and emotionless attitude. According to Midoriya, Todoroki could be very funny when he wanted to be, but Hitoshi had yet to see it.
According to the rules, Todoroki wasn’t supposed to use his quirk. This was just for Hitoshi to practice using his quirk on unreceptive people. The idea was given by Shoji, who said he had been wondering if Hitoshi could try and get people dead set on not talking to speak, like in situations where someone already knew his quirk. After an hour of quirkless hand to hand combat with a few of the others, Aizawa had them take a short break while he prepared Todoroki for this drill. Now, the rest of the class was crowded single file against the mirrored wall, observing and taking notes, as well as coming up with more ideas. A slight distance aways, Aizawa sat at a student desk that had been brought into the gym. He was watching Hitoshi intently, pen poised in his hand.
Hitoshi had a lot of fun during the observations of his classmates. For the past two weeks, they’d spent the afternoons in the gym, and he’d most of the time ended up sitting between Midoriya and Kaminari, with the former muttering to himself and constantly whispering ideas to Hitoshi, and the latter cracking jokes nearly the entire time. It was a nice combination that kept him pretty much endlessly entertained.
He did not like being on this side of the observations.
“So, uh. You excited for your quirk training?” Hitoshi says, and immediately wants to slam his face into the wall. He sounds so stupid. “I, uh, feel like it’s gonna be pretty cool, y’know, you’ve got a neat quirk.”
Come on, come on, think, Hitoshi. Make the conversation make sense, false facts, things he knows a lot about that he’d want to interject to confirm or deny.
“It must be sick having the number one hero as a dad, though.” Hitoshi continues, instantly picking up a twitch in Todoroki’s lip. “Hey, I’m gonna sit down. You’ve got awesome self control, so who knows how long I’ll be up here? Aizawa-sensei says I’ve got all afternoon, but I doubt any of us want to do this the whole time.”
He makes a show of dropping onto the ground, crossing his legs and leaning back on his hands. Super casual.
Make him think I’m completely unaffected by this conversation. False sense of security. He’s focusing very intensely on not answering, so I need to direct the conversation as elsewhere as I can, so that he’ll relax and pay less attention to himself.
“You wanna sit too? You’re kinda just standing there.” Todoroki glances away, lets out a small breath (not enough of an answer for Hitoshi to grab onto, damnit ), but then sits down as well, crossing his legs and resting his arms on his legs.
“Cool, cool. See, this is nice. Feels like we’re just hanging out, doesn’t it? You know, I feel like we hardly ever talk.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and propping up his chin. “Is it cool if I call you Shouto?” Lip twitch, long blink. “Word. Totally gonna do that now. Hey, if you don’t want me to, all you needa do is say so, and I’ll stop. Sounds good, Shouto?”
Another lip twitch, and now averted eyes. Hitoshi grins; he may actually be getting somewhere.
“I’ve kind of been wondering, you got into UA on recommendations, right?” No answer. “I just gotta say, I’m sooo jealous. It must have been so easy, you could just walk up to the school and be like, ‘Hi, I’m Shouto and my dad is Endeavor, let me into your school’. Like? Come on, that sounds like a dream.” Todoroki narrows his eyes, mouth twitching down so that he’s glaring pointedly at Hitoshi.
“Hey, I don’t mean that to be offensive!” He raises up his hands in surrender, before laughing and leaning back on them again. “All I’m saying is, you’re lucky you didn’t have to do any actual work to get in, like the rest of us.”
Someone gasps from the side of the gym, and he hears Kaminari whistle.
Todoroki dropped his gaze, glaring at the ground in front of him now.
“Oops. Was that sort of mean?” Hitoshi laughs again. “It’s all in good fun! Hey, wanna know what else I think is really funny?”
No answer. Todoroki glances up though, before quickly dropping his gaze again.
“So, this is really funny, you guys are gonna get a kick out of this, so when I was a little kid, I used to be crazy chatty. Kind of like I am right now, ha. But, you know, I was never allowed to talk to anyone. Because like, I was scary. People didn’t want me to use my quirk on them? It’s common sense, honestly, I don’t blame them.” He does blame them, actually. He and Aizawa have had extensive talks about the trauma he retained from his fourteen years of foster care.
“Anyway, the funny part is, this is one of the longest amounts of time anyone has ever let me talk to them. Really, you’re doing great, Shouto, I’m impressed. Conversations typically aren’t this one-sided, but I don’t mind doing all the work. Besides, you’ve probably got plenty of experience getting whatever you want handed to you.”
Someone laughs, and Kaminari whistles again.
Todoroki’s fists are clenched in his lap though.
“You know, Shouto, I know exactly how you feel right now. There’s only so much a person can hear before they break, right? It makes you feel helpless, doesn’t it?” He leans forward again, raising his eyebrows. “It feels pretty nice to be on this side of it, though. I can say whatever I want, and you just have to sit there and take it.” He glances at the rest of the class, feeling a pain in his gut at the look of genuine worry and discomfort on his classmates faces, but he shoves that aside. He’s got business to take care of.
“You want to be the number one hero, right? Just like daddy?” He teases, grinning again when Todoroki’s glare hardens and fists twitch. “You’re gonna have some pretty tough competition. Midoriya, for one, is probably going to beat you. Bakugou too, he already beat you once at the first year Sports Festival. I think it’ll be pretty funny when our classmates climb the ranks and start knocking Endeavor down a few pegs. Of course, I doubt you’ll ever be able to beat him. You’re basically going to be Endeavor Jr. The knock off brand that follows exactly in his footsteps, in every single way.” He narrows his eyes, smiling at Todoroki, who looks a little murderous.
“Or maybe you’re gonna follow after your mom, instead. Where is she even? I haven’t heard anything about her in years.” Todoroki’s eyes glint with something manic. “Didn’t she get sent to some hospital or something? You would know, but I suppose most of the public has no idea. Let me guess: some sort of mental institution? Dealing with Endeavour all these years finally push her over the edge-”
“Shut up!” Todoroki shouts, shooting to his feet ice spitting from his skin. Hitoshi was expecting this, though, and no sooner did the words leave his mouth did he stutter to a stop, eyes glazing over.
“Gotcha.” Hitoshi smiles, getting to his feet. “Stop using your quirk.” The ice goes away. “Word. Nice talking with you, Shouto.” He turns back to Aizawa and the rest of the class. “Want me to let him go?”
It’s quiet, save for the rapid fire scribbling of Midoriya’s pen, and the much more leisurely note taking of Aizawa. Finally, his mentor looks up.
“Good work. You can go ahead and release him.”
Hitoshi nods, looking back at Todoroki, and in a breath, his eyes clear up and stumbles a little, blinking in confusion. Then, he catches sight of Hitoshi, and a look of rage comes over his face.
“Todoroki. You were told not to use your quirk.” Aizawa says blandly. Without looking away from Hitoshi, Todoroki speaks.
“Was I supposed to sit there and let him say all of that?!” Hitoshi shifts awkwardly on his feet, sticking his hands in his pockets. “He was being sadistic!”z
“Yes, you were.” Aizawa replies in a harsher tone. “This was never supposed to be a physical fight, and I’m disappointed that you lacked the self control to keep it from escalating to that point. You can sit down.”
Todoroki glares even harder at Hitoshi, before stalking over to an empty space near the back of the crowd to slump down in. Hitoshi feels a little sick now. It isn’t unusual for him to get headaches or even migraines after using his quirk, but he’d done so little just then that Hitoshi can’t help but think that maybe his sick feeling is more the result of how much hatred he’d seen in Todoroki’s face.
He wants to cry, a little bit. Scream that he did that because he had to, that he doesn’t really think all that, not really, but it worked, didn’t it? What else is he supposed to do? He has to train his quirk, just like the rest of them!
Aizawa straightens up in his seat, looking at Hitoshi. “You did succeed with the desired end result, however you wasted a lot of time. You need to be able to get your opponents to respond much faster. In the future, you won’t be able to just sit casually and talk until they snap.”
“I understand.” Hitoshi nods, trying to shove away the sickness in his stomach.
“Am I correct that your technique with Todoroki was to attempt to anger him enough that his self control would break and he would be unable to resist responding to you?”
“Uhm, yes.” Hitoshi fidgeted with his hands behind his back.
“As a peer, you had a lot you were able to draw upon to use as ammunition,” Aizawa states, examining the bullet point notes on his legal pad. “Explain what your strategy was with this.”
Hitoshi clears his throat a little. “Uh, well… I was a bit stuck on what to say at first, so I just started rambling, keeping an eye on his reactions to see what was bothering him the most. When something I said caught a snag, I decided to just keep pulling at it until he unraveled.”
“And how do you plan to improve upon that?”
“I, uh…” Hitoshi rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not sure. I didn’t like making him angry, but that was how I got to Midoriya as well back at the Sports Festival when he already knew my quirk.”
“Do you think the only way to get a response from someone with knowledge of your quirk will be through angering them until they answer? This was planned to be verbal only, with no physical element, but consider what would happen if the environment were not so leisurely, do you think provoking your opponent would be the best route to take?”
“Uhh…..”
Aizawa looks away from him at Hitoshi’s disappointing response. “Who has another strategy he could have used instead?”
Midoriya’s hand shoots up.
“Yes, Midoriya?”
“
Soemthng something
Changing the topic, Aizawa asks, “Shinsou, do you know how many people you can control with your quirk at once?” Hitoshi shrugs.
“The most I’ve done is four, but I haven’t ever had the chance to try more than that.”
“Now's your chance.” Aizawa says. “Volunteers?”
“I’ll do it!” Kaminari says, jumping to his feet immediately. “Shinsou’s never used his quirk on me before ever ever, and I wanna try.”
That was partly on purpose. Shinsou didn’t like using his quirk on the people he had become friendliest with. The only exceptions to that were Ojiro and Midoriya, who had been his practice subjects for most of the semester.
After Kaminari, Ashido pipes up that she wants to participate as well, egging on Sero to join too. Sero takes the offered hand from Kaminari to get up, and naturally following the lead of his friends, Kirishima is the next one to volunteer, dragging an only semi-reluctant Bakugou with him.
“That’s five!” Kirishima announces. “Do you want more?”
“We’ll start here and keep going.” Aizawa decides.
“One addition from his prior maximum,” Midoriya states, and theres some noises of interest. Hitoshi glances in his direction, and finds Todoroki sitting right beside Midoriya, glaring daggers at Hitoshi. Hitoshi gulps, and quickly looks away. Forget Todoroki. He’s not important anymore.
The five of them stand before Hitoshi. Kaminari rocks on his feet eagerly. “Sooo are we playing hard to get? Or is this just chill practice?”
Hitoshi laughs despite his nerves, covering his mouth. “Please don’t call it hard to get.”
Aizawa writes something down, and then regards them all. “Let Shinsou take control without resisting. I’d like to keep working on his technique to forcefully take control, but right now we’ll focus on just testing out his limits.
Hitoshi took in a slow breath, and then let it out. He studied each of his acquaintances, debating how they should begin.
“How do we want to do this?” He asked. “One by one, or do you care who goes first, or..?”
They all shrug non committedly, and Kirishima says for everyone, “Whichever you want, man!” He gives Hitoshi a thumbs up too.
Alright, well. He’ll take that. Kirishima goes still, eyes glazing. There’s noises of excitement from his volunteers. Hitoshi will never get used to that reaction rather than the expected one of fear.
“Me next, me next!” Ashido cries, jumping up and down. She’s got a wide smile on her face, until her eyes go ashy-gray, the gold sclera turning milky as she also went blank under his control. Her and Kirishima stand like limp puppets side by side.
Sero volunteers to go next, and Kaminari and Bakugou start to bicker over who will be last, so Hitoshi takes Bakugou next in order to shut him up.
When Bakugou goes calm and still, Kaminari seems to be at the most excited he’s been all day, bouncing on his feet.
“Okay, okay, lucky number five. You got this, dude,” Kaminari tells him, grinning widely
Next is Sero, and then Bakugou, because Kaminari wanted to see if he actually did it.
Hitoshi has yet to break a sweat. This was easy. He grins back. “Right. I’ve got this, dude. You ready?”
Kaminari’s eyes widened. “Oh, is that your starting ques-?” he goes stiff and blank, and immediately, Hitoshi can feel his control starting to weaken on Kirishima.
Okay, maybe not so easy.
He breathes in and out, picturing all five of them in his head. Five. Kirishima, Ashido, Sero, Bakugou, Kaminari. He’s got all of them. He’s fine, they’re all right there, and none of them are getting away. It’s like herding cats on leashes, and some of the cats are trying to escape, but he still has his hand around their leash, so they can’t get away yet.
“I’m...ready. Number six?” He manages, aware that his eyes are definitely still closed. He tries to peel open his eyelids, but immediately feels Metaphorical Cat Bakugou starting to tug on his metaphorical leash, and the eyes close again, face melting back into tense concentration.
Aizawa clears his throat. “Someone else, go up there.”
“I can!” That’s Uraraka. She’s sweet. Good friends with Midoriya, so acquaintances with him.
“I’m ready whenever you are, Shinsou!” She says kindly, and he can picture her smile.
“Cool, thanks.. Uh, so.. Ready?” He asks, just for his own sake.
“Yep!”
And there it is: another metaphorical cat suddenly drops its leash in his hands, and there’s so many leashes it's hard to keep track of them all. Kirishima, Ashido, Sero, uhh , Bakugou, Kaminari, and uh , Uraraka. Six. They’re starting to pull away hard, and his metaphorical leash-holding-palms are getting sweaty and slick, and the leashes might slip between his fingers if he’s not careful.
Hitoshi grits his teeth. He needs to transfer the easy minds onto his metaphorical wrists, maybe they’re on one of those leashes with the sort of hand strap to hold onto? Yes, they do have that, he decides. Breathing in and out deeply, he shifts the metaphorical leashes belonging to Ashido and Kirishima onto his wrist. They nearly slip from his grasp, and his eyes fly open to see Kirishima twitch and jerk, except- no! He’s got Kirishima again, and now he can’t close his eyes because if he does, he might drop someone again. Kirishima seems a little too slippery to leave on his wrist, so he goes for Kaminari instead. Switching the order, because Kaminari is easier, so he’ll be at the front of the list.
Ashido and Kaminari on his left wrist, Kirishima and Bakugou in his left hand, Uraraka and Sero on his right. He exhales slowly, tightening his grasp, and lets his eyes close again. His fists are beginning to squeeze shut in concentration, almost physically holding onto the leashes for his brain to better focus.
“Can I do seven?”
“Someone else go,” Aizawa says in response. There’s quiet for a brief moment, and then the sound of motion.
“I can, I guess?” Shit, who is that? Hitoshi’s brain feels raw and stretched out, like it might tear or blister if he pulls too hard on the ends, and no matter how hard he tries, Hitoshi cannot decipher which of his classmates just spoke.
“Who’s..that?” He asks, his own voice barely audible over the pounding in his head.
“Oh, it’s me, Satou!”
Cool, Satou, got it. Satou’s metaphorical leash lands in the same hand as Sero’s and Uraraka’s, and immediately Sero falls out of his grasp.
“Oh, are we done alre-.. Oh. Oops.”
Hitosi clenches his hands tight. “Damnit. Sero, say something again.”
“Sure. Uh, is that fine?”
Yep, that’s fine. He’s got Sero back, and this is seven now. His head is pounding, and he probably looks constipated with how tightly he’s clenching his face and teeth and hands, but Hitoshi can’t think about that, he just needs to think about the seven metaphorical cats on metaphorical leashes he’s trying to hold onto.
Kaminari, Ashido, Sero. Shit, uhhh- right, Kirishima, Bakugou, Uraraka, and now Satou. Seven. He’s got seven now. Bakugou and Uraraka are both straining, his sweaty hands doing very little to hold onto them. Neither of them have that built in leash strap, just smooth nylon rope. He grits his teeth, and shifts Satou and Sero onto his Kirishima and Bakugou hand, moving Bakugou onto his Uraraka hand. He pictures his hands gripping the ropes tightly, binding them both around each other and around his wrists. Mental tally.
Left wrist: Ashido, Kaminari. Right wrist: Bakugou, Uraraka. Left hand: Kirishima, Sero, Satou. Okay, that’s too many, transfer Sero back to his right hand. Can he do eight?
No, say that outloud. He’s getting too lost in his head.
“Eight,” he says, wincing at the effort it takes to speak while also monitoring the loose knot on his right wrist. Shit, it’s a really loose knot.
“Someone-”
“No, wait, ah-” Sero goes back on his left hand, and he makes a slightly pained noise as he fights to keep his grip on Uraraka and Bakugou. Kaminari and Ashido have been getting ignored this whole time as well, and are starting to try and pull away too. The human brain did not like to surrender its control. He needs someone easy to assure himself that he won’t lose anyone.
Who’s someone really easy to control in class? Preferably someone he’s already done before, someone that would be simple to take control of.
“O-Ojiro, come here.” He says, voice thin with effort.
“Oh, sure. Am I number eight then?”
He squinted through half opened eyes to see Ojiro crossing over to him. There was a look of concern on Ojiro’s face, brows smushed together and tail twitching at his feet.
“If you don’t- ah, don’t mind?”
“Of course I don’t.”
That’s good, number eight. He’s had Ojiro before, in fact, Ojiro has a totally natural place tightly wound around his upper left arm. The four times he’s brainwashed Ojiro has given him the opportunity to find a stationary location for the other boy, and it’s easy to grab onto a number eight when he already knows where they’re going.
Eight. Left wrist: Ashido, Kaminari. They’re pulling, so he pulls back, brings them right back up. He thinks these leashes probably have those locks on them that can lock it at a certain length, so he does that to Ashido and Kaminari, keeping their metaphorical cat bodies at his metaphorical feet. Metaphorical Cat Ojiro is also calmly sitting nearby. After the first two times, Metaphorical Cat Ojiro is always very calm. Metaphorical Cats Kirishima and Satou are next, and he’d nearly forgotten about them, so, time to fix that .
They’re both pulling at their leashes, trying to reach as far as they can to get out of his grip, but he leash-length-locks stops them close to his feet as well, trying to relax his shuddering breath into more easy breathing. Who else? Kaminari, Ashido, Ojiro, Satou, Kirshima- Sero! Sero, and then Uraraka and Bakugou. That’s eight. Everyone feels eerily relaxed right now, no one trying to pull away.
I can...do nine. He says, or tries to say, because he’s clenching his jaw so tightly that it’s hard to get words out. Nine. I can do nine.
He grunts at the effort, feeling his arms trembling. He’s clenching those muscles, too. Every muscle in his body feels like it’s being stretched apart, and there’s a burning in the back of his neck from the tension he’s holding there. His head has started pounding even harder, and the blood rushing in his ears is louder, but holding onto all eight of them feels so easy right now. None of them are protesting anymore, none of them are trying to escape,in fact, they’re all just metaphorically sitting beside him, calm and content under his control.
More! He tries to yell. I can keep going! The words don’t come out, though, and he’s starting to feel some pain in his jaw from how hard he’s clamping it shut.
The blood roaring in his ears suddenly crescendos to impossibly loud, the tension and pressure magnifying to an extreme that leaves him feeling as though his brain may start cracking underneath it. Then-
There’s a sharp and sudden pain on the top of his left foot. His eyes shoot open, and immediately, all of the pressure lifts off of him.
Hitoshi’s eyes nearly roll back into his head at the euphoric relief that comes with letting go of the eight minds he’d been holding onto, stumbling forward to land against someone.
“Woah, hey! Are you okay?” It’s- that was- it’s Midoriya’s voice. Midroya’s torso against his cheek, and Midoriya’s hands firmly holding Hitoshi upright. “Oh god, Aizawa-sensei, do you think he needs to go to Recovery Girl?”
“What happened to him?”
“Is he okay?”
“He looked like he was hurting a whole lot!”
“Shinsou??”
“Oh jeez, were there eight of us under his control?”
“Holy sh - oh my gosh!”
“My head...feels like...mashed potatoes,” he mutters into Midoriya’s shoulder, legs like jelly and wobbling too much to support his weight. Midoriya has a solid grip on him, though, clearly his strength quirk has helped him bulk up quite a bit, because he isn’t straining with being the only reason Hitoshi isn’t face-planting.
“Yeah, I know. I’ve got you,” he says, shifting Hitoshi’s arm around his shoulders and then holding him up enough that Hitoshi’s feet can sort of rest on the ground. “Sensei?”
“Shinsou, do you need a break?” Aizawa’s voice, sounding much closer than he remembered it being, and also a great deal more concerned.
“Uhhhh...”
“Is this like when I overuse my quirk? Hell yeah, I’m not the only one who goes limp and stupid after using my quirk a lot!”
“That’s not something to be proud of, Dunce Face.”
“Midoriya, can you set him down?”
“Sure.” Hitoshi’s head goes blank for a second as he’s moved, and then his eyelids are being hit by a bright light. He opens them, first seeing the ceiling of the gym. Bright lights are overhead, and they burn harshly into his retinas. Hitoshi opts to close them, and drape his arm over his eyes as well.
“How do you feel?” Aizawa’s voice, once more, much closer than he remembers it being last.
How does he feel?
“Um.” Like shit. He swallows thickly, and there’s a metallic taste in his mouth when does. “That was...ah...a lot of people.”
“You completely doubled your maximum from before. Eight instead of four. That’s something to be very proud of.”
Hitoshi breathes heavily. “Th..thanks.”
“See if you can sit up.”
“Sure,” he says, and woozily pushes himself into a sitting position. The room spins and blurs. “My- my head really hurts.”
His eyes focus on Aizawa, crouching beside him. His face is mostly neutral, but there’s some concern buried in his gaze. “I figured as much. What else?”
“I’m...dizzy, I think? I.. I can’t tell what else besides that.”
“Let me see your hands.”
He holds them out weakly. Deep indents are drooling blood from four crescent moon shapes lining his palms. Hitoshi sucks in a breath. He hadn’t even noticed.
Aizawa clicks his tongue. “Most likely from how tightly you were clenching your fists. Your tongue is bleeding too.”
“Oh,” he replies slowly, feeling a little sick. He can taste the blood now that he knows what it is.“Sensei, is this bad?”
“It’s not particularly good.” Aizawa stands back up, and Hitoshi peers between his teacher’s legs to see the rest of his classmates standing and watching in worried clumps. “Iida, would you go get some bandages from the first aid kit?”
“Of course, Sensei!” Iida says, and sets a fast and steady pace out of the gym.
“Is he okay?” Yaomomo asks, looking concerned.
“He overdid his quirk. Shinsou, what do you think went wrong there?”
“Uh.” He plants the roof of his hands over his eyes, trying to calm the burning in them. “I, uh, haven’t gotten to figure out my limits, like ever. I didn’t know when to stop, because I’d never gotten to push myself so far before.”
“You became stuck on eight before I asked Midoriya to get your attention so that I could erase your quirk. Do you think you would have been able to stop it yourself had I not done that?”
“I’m...not sure.”
“What was the last number you felt comfortable and secure at?”
“Four was- was really easy. Five was fine, um, six was okay.” That would be Ashido, Kaminari, Sero, Kirishima, Bakugou, and Uraraka. “When I added, um, Satou, it was a little harder to focus on everyone, well sort of after Uraraka, too. I kept losing track of them all, and it was hard to remember.” He frowns. “When I got to eight, it was hard at first, but then it felt really easy. I just…”
“Couldn't move or speak.” Aizawa finishes.
“Yeah.”
“Interesting. It seems like you went into a sort of paralysis state. What do you all think a safe number for him to stop at for the time being is?”
Midoriya’s hand shoots into the air again, and Aizawa calls on him.
“I was watching him very closely, and in my opinion, he started showing really physical signs of strain when he first reached number six. He was starting to show even more when Satou joined, I could clearly see the shaking in his posture and hands, and it already looked like he was having difficulty moving or making noise at all. I think the addition of Ojiro sealed it for him. So, comfortably, I think he’d be safest sticking to six for right now. It gives him breathing room since he’s not at his max.”
“Good.” Aizawa checks his clipboard, and writes something down. He’s about to speak, when Midoriya starts talking again. Hitoshi notices Midoriya must have gone to get his notebook again after setting Hitoshi on the floor.
“On the topic of his paralysis, though. It’s something to consider, if he might be able to take on more people, knowing that he’d be in a secure location where he could safely enter paralysis. He mentioned having a calm and controlled feeling, where it became very easy. If more of us had offered ourselves up, it’s very possible he could have taken control of us as well.” Midoriya flips back a page. “However, despite having control of all eight of them, we didn’t test out any actual orders. He had them in control, but didn’t try to make them do anything. I would suggest for the next round of limit strengthening, to go back down to six people and work on having them follow orders.” He looked up from his notebook, smiling when he caught Hitoshi’s eye. Hitoshi smiled back, shy, and a little intimidated by all these plans Midoriya seemed to have for his quirk. Hitoshi didn’t know if he could live up to all of that.
“You’re right. That is something to consider. We’ll keep that in mind.” Aizawa brushed his hair behind his shoulder, and then regarded Hitoshi with a look. “I’d like to call a fifteen minute break before we continue again. Take this time to work on assignments for your other classes.”
Everyone begins moving and talking. Hitoshi exhales, flopping down onto his back again. His head feels too full and too empty at the same time.
“Shinsou! I have first aid, as well as a water bottle!” Iida announces, skidding to a halt beside Hitoshi. Hitoshi idly shifts his head around, looking up at Iida.
“Thanks,” he murmurs, sitting up. It’s a little easier now than it had been before. His palms sting, and blood drips onto his wrist. Iida holds out a batch of paper towels that he’d been hiding, and Hitoshi thanks him again. He wipes off the blood, wincing as the rough paper rubs against his cuts.
“Be careful,” Iida warns. To Hitoshi’s surprise, he kneels down on the ground beside Hitoshi. “Here, let me see.” He sets the first aid kit and the water bottle down beside them, and then gently wipes off Hitoshi’s hands with far more care than Hitoshi himself had used.
“Thanks,” Hitoshi says again, a little dumbly. Iida finishes cleaning off the blood and then sets about wrapping them in bandages.
“Of course, it is my duty as class representative to help my fellow students! Besides,” he neatly finishes off one hand and moves onto the next, “it’s what a hero would do.”
“Yeah well, if you think fixing up some poor idiot is heroic, then I guess so,” Hitoshi grumbles, examining his newly bandaged hand.
Iida frowns, his eyebrows creasing together. “Do not say that, Shinsou. I was impressed by your performance.”
Hitoshi raised an eyebrow. “Performance, huh?”
Iida opens his mouth to speak, then winces. “Oh, Shinsou. Is your mouth bleeding too? Did you bite your tongue?”
“Maybe?”
“Drink some water, try to flush the blood out of your mouth,” Iida instructs. Hitoshi does as he’s told, taking several long drinks out of the bottle.
“Thanks..” he mumbles to Iida, who just gives him a bright smile.
“Of course! I hope your hands feel better soon. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go ask Aizawa-sensei what I missed while I was out of the room.” He stood up, hurrying over to their teacher with all the stress of someone who really was very worried he had missed something important.
Hitoshi exhaled, and studied his bandaged palms.
There was a deeper understanding of his quirk within him now. He felt like he could see so much potential for it, more uses and strategies he could implement. But at the same time, those new realizations only exposed so many more weak points. Hitoshi had a lot of work to do if he wanted to reach the level of his classmates.
He would do it though. He would do anything to be a hero, even if it meant another one of these training sessions.