Chapter Text

Shinsou Hitoshi

December 2031

Shinsou Hitoshi likes to think he is a good person. He wants to be a pro hero, but not for the fame or the glory. No, he wants to help people. He knows what it feels like to be hopeless. 

He wants to help those who are hopeless.

But sitting fully clothed in the shower, holding his boyfriend as he’s having a panic attack, Hitoshi doesn’t think he’s doing a very good job. There were so many little signs that Hitoshi ignored. Made excuses for. He knows the signs of abuse better than anyone else in their class. He lived it for twelve years. How could he not see it until it was almost too late? 

Because it was almost too late. 

Denki almost died tonight. 

He’s black and blue. Has stitches all over his body. A concussion from being thrown to the ground. His arm is fractured in three places from his dad stomping on it. 

Hitoshi holds Denki, trying to calm him down as the water pours over them. He whispers to him that he’s safe. That Hitoshi won’t let him go. When Denki’s breathing is under control Hitoshi sings to him. 

They stay like that until the water turns cold. 

All the while Hitoshi blames himself. Because really it’s his fault. This happened because of him. 

How is he supposed to help others when he can’t even help the one person he loves the most? 

When he is the only reason Denki is so battered.

___

March 2030

Hitoshi is sitting in the back of his closet. It’s a fairly big closet. Almost walk in size but not quite. He kind of wishes it was smaller for moments like this, but his dads have stuffed it full of clothes. If his closet was any smaller he doesn’t know where he would put everything. 

Which is something he never thought he would say. That he has too many clothes.

Or his own bedroom. 

Or two parents that love him. 

He’s only been with his dads for two and a half years. Aizawa Shota and Yamada Hizashi. The best people in the entire world, according to Hitoshi. He still forgets things sometimes. Like that he doesn’t have to hide food. Or that he doesn’t have to be silent. Or that punishments don’t exist, just natural consequences. He’s still learning and adjusting. At least that’s what his therapist said when he still saw one regularly. He’s not sure when the -ing will be removed from those words. Have learned. Have adjusted.

But he still likes the closet even though it’s a little big. It still helps contain his racing thoughts.

He likes small places he can hide in.

His headphones are also helping. 

Sort of. 

Maybe. 

He blasts his music anyways, making it louder than his thoughts. He’s playing one of Papa’s playlists. The Beatles one. He likes Papa’s playlists the best. Dad doesn’t know good music. Hitoshi loves the Beatles. It’s what Papa sang to him when Dad first brought him home. The first time he felt truly safe. 

The Beatles remind him of that.

The closet door opens revealing Papa, a soft glow behind him. “I knocked but you didn’t hear me,” he says and signs at the same time. Which is good because Hitoshi’s music is so loud he can’t actually hear him. “Can I join you?” Papa waits patiently as Hitoshi makes up his mind. 

When Hitoshi nods he quietly sits across from him in the closet. His gaze travels all around the closet. From the giant fuzzy, purple blanket to the black and gray pillows to the various clothes trying to burst free. He waits until Hitoshi slides his headphones off. 

Sorry , Hitoshi signs, not quite looking at his papa. 

“What do you have to be sorry about, Little Listener?,” Papa says, still signing. 

I let you and Dad down. Disappointed you, Hitoshi isn’t making eye contact. His signs are still sloppy. Slow. He doesn’t remember the sign for disappointed so he finger spells it. He’s only been signing for as long as he’s been with his dads. They taught him. 

Sometimes his voice doesn’t work. Well, nothing is physically wrong with his voice. His brain is just dumb sometimes and thinks it’s better to not use his voice. A trauma response according to his former therapist. It’s dumb and frustrating in Hitoshi’s opinion. 

“Hey, watch,” Papa says, making Hitoshi look at him, “This is the sign for disappointed.” He does it twice, Hitoshi mimicking him. “Yeah, but we’re not disappointed.” 

But I didn’t get into UA.

Papa tilts his head, “But you did get into UA. Your Dad and I are quite proud.” 

Hitoshi huffs at him. He’s being difficult. Not the hero course.

“No. That is true,” Papa says thoughtfully. 

Hitoshi makes a gesture at him. That’s the whole point. He didn’t get into the hero course. All he’s ever wanted is to be a hero. A hero like his dads. Someone who can help the weak. The scared. The hopeless. He wants to help those who were like him. But now that is all gone. Washed down the drain.

“You can still be a hero.” 

Hitoshi gives him his best teenager look. The one that says ‘I’m fifteen, not a child. Don’t lie to me’. How?, he signs. Short and aggressive. He doesn’t like being lied to in order to ‘save his feelings’. Papa knows that. 

“Sho didn’t get into the hero course until his second year. He’s a hero, isn’t he?,” Papa smirks at him. 

What? 

That is new information. Hitoshi never knew that. He knew both his dads went to UA. That’s how they met and got their hero licenses. But Dad didn’t make the hero course his first year? 

Dad is like the best hero ever. And no, Hitoshi isn’t biased. That’s fact. 

WHAT?

Papa chuckles at him, “Yeah, ‘Toshi. Our entrance exam catered towards physical quirks, too. That was before he had his capture weapon.” He tilts his head and adds thoughtfully, “He wouldn’t have a hard time with them now. That man is scary good sometimes.” A fond smile spreads across his face.

How did he transfer?, Hitoshi signs quickly. He misspells transfer twice in his excitement. 

 Papa makes the sign for transfer twice, making Hitoshi repeat it before he answers the question. “He transferred at the beginning of his second year. He won the sports festival our first year. A general education kid beat every single hero course student. They transferred him the next year.” 

Hitoshi sits with that information for a minute. 

So it’s not a done deal? 

He can transfer? 

That’s an actual possibility?

I want to do that. I want to transfer by my second year.

Papa smiles at him, “Well, alright then. That’s what we’ll do.” He claps his hands together, his smile turning into a grin. “I want cookies. I feel like today needs homemade cookies. You want to help me make some?” 

Hitoshi laughs, nodding his head. He loves baking with Papa. And ice cream!

“Yes! Exactly,” Papa’s face drops suddenly, “Oh, your dad ate the last bit last night.” 

Hitoshi smirks at him, Tell him to go get us some more. Dad will do anything his husband asks of him. 

“Good thinking,” he takes a deep breath and leans out of the closet. “Sho!,” he yells, using his quirk, “We demand ice cream!” He turns back to Hitoshi, who has his hands over his ears, “Do you think he heard me?”

Hitoshi laughs again when he hears his dad walk into his room. A moment later he pops his head into the closet. “I hear that we are in need of some ice cream?” 

“Yes!,” Papa replies, “Because someone ate the rest last night.” He gives Dad a look. 

Hitoshi chuckles. Dad and Papa are constantly bickering with each other. At first Hitoshi thought they were constantly mad at each other. It wouldn’t have been the first time he was in a home like that, but that’s not this family. His family. His dads bicker because they love each other.

And Hitoshi finds it hilarious. 

“You have no proof,” Dad deadpans, “It will never hold up in court.” 

“Then what was the bowl and spoon in the sink I found this morning? Huh, Sho?”

“Maybe you’re hallucinating. All that inhaled hairspray finally getting to you. I told you it would happen,” Dad smirks as Papa gives an offended gasp. Dad winks at Hitoshi. His smirk softening to a small smile. “But I guess I can go to the store, since our favorite son got accepted to our alma mater.” 

I’m your only son , Hitoshi signs while rolling his eyes. He pretends to be annoyed but he loves it when his dads call him their favorite. He so rarely is someone’s favorite. 

“Still doesn’t change the fact you’re my favorite son. So what flavor do you want this time?,” Dad asks. 

Hitoshi takes a deep breath. He’s feeling a lot better. His dads tend to have that effect on him. They generally can calm him down when no one else can. Not that many have tried. 

“Mint chocolate chip,” he whispers. It’ll be a minute until he’s back at his full volume, but at least he can use his voice again. He hates being mute. 

“Mint chocolate chip it is, then,” Dad says, smiling.

___

May 2030

Months later, Hitoshi is sitting on a bed in Recovery Girl’s temporary infirmary at the Sports Festival. He lost. Granted he made it fairly far for a general education kid, but he still lost. This was his chance. He was supposed to win it all. Just like his dad did. 

Instead Midoriya broke free from Hitoshi’s control then proceeded to throw him around like a rag doll. He was so close too. He was one step away. 

Hitoshi sighs as he watches the next matches on the TV. Honestly, he’s not sure how he would have beaten them without his quirk. He’s just not on their level anymore. He’s not out of shape or anything. He works out fairly regularly. But class 1-A has something he doesn’t have. Experience. 

They have seen real villains, and it shows. 

He’s not sure what he can do now. Dad was only transferred because he won the Sports Festival. He’s just going to have to hope that he did enough. 

His attention is drawn from the TV when someone is rolled onto the bed next to him. He’s the blonde kid from 1-A. The one with the electric quirk. Hitoshi doesn’t remember his name. He does remember that this kid blew his fight. All with one move that didn’t work.

“Heyyyy,” the guy says, looking over at Hitoshi. It’s spacey and slow. He has a dopey smile on his face. Clearly not fully aware of his surroundings. And then he faints. Falls back on the bed, hair splayed across his face. 

It’s cute. He’s cute. 

No, Hitoshi.

He doesn’t have time for distractions. He’s going to make the hero course. 

That is his priority. Not cute boys who fight idiotically. 

Recovery Girl glides up to his bed. “Hitoshi, how is your back feeling?,” she asks warmly. Hitoshi has always had a soft spot for her. She was the one who helped heal him when his dad found him. He sees her fairly regularly. His dads are pro heroes. They do get hurt sometimes. Like recently. Dad is still bandaged up like a mummy. That was a scary day. Way too close for comfort.

“I’m feeling a lot better, Obachan. Can I leave? Dad said I could watch the rest with them.” 

“I don’t see why not. You did quite well today. I’ve heard quite a lot of buzz about you from the other pro heroes,” she winks at him.

He narrows his eyes at her, not fully convinced, “Really?”

“Yes, really,” she pokes him in the shoulder. “I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a transfer in your future.” 

Hitoshi shrugs. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up. He was supposed to win today and that obviously didn’t happen. His eyes are drawn back to the blonde guy. Hitoshi bets he’s never had anyone doubt him. Making the hero course was probably easy for him. He’s got all the makings of a popular hero. Good looks. Powerful quirk that he can show off. His life is probably extremely easy.

Hitoshi sighs, standing from the bed. “Thank you, Obachan,” he says, giving a slight bow, “My back is feeling a lot better.” 

“Anytime, dear,” she smiles kindly up at him, “Tell Aizawa to stop by later. He needs another round of healing.” 

Hitoshi nods, “I’ll tell him, but I can’t guarantee he’ll stop by. You know how stubborn he is.” 

“Yeah, yeah. He’s difficult.” 

Hitoshi laughs, exiting the infirmary and heads to where his dads are, still thinking about the blonde boy. 

___

A week later, Hitoshi is sitting in his general education classes. He’s learning English while the hero course students are off on their internships. Yet again gaining more experience over Hitoshi. 

He hasn’t heard anything about a transfer and he’s too nervous to ask his dads. What if he jinxes it? This is too important. He wants to be in the hero course more than anything.

So, he’s learning verbs in the past tense. English isn’t too bad, especially since Papa is the one who teaches it. But Hitoshi still struggles with it. It’s probably the subject he struggles the most with. It’s just so complicated. 

He’s filling out his worksheet, when Papa stops by his desk. He glances at Hitoshi’s worksheet. “Read is already past tense, Shinsou,” he says, pointing at the line. “You don’t need the -ed at the end. ‘I read the book yesterday.’ Read is one of the irregular verbs.” 

Hitoshi quickly fixes his mistake, “Thanks Mic-sensei.” He’s kind of gotten used to calling his dads by name at this point. He fully agreed to keep their family hidden when they talked about it. Hitoshi is already a weird kid; he doesn't need to be known as the teacher’s kid either. Also his dads’ relationship is secret. 

Well. It’s not secret, they just don’t broadcast it. Only a few people actually know about their little family. 

“Oh, before I forget, I need to talk with you after class,” he says as he leaves Hitoshi’s desk.

“What do you think he wants?,” Suzuki Minato asks him. He’s Hitoshi’s friend. Or at least Hitoshi thinks they’re friends. He’s never really had one before? Most people are scared of his quirk and tend to leave him alone, but Suzuki talks with him. They eat lunch together. 

“I don’t know,” Hitoshi whispers back. 

“Did you do something and not tell me?”

Hitoshi furrows his brows at him, confused, “No.” 

Suzuki hums, “Tell me after?”

Hitoshi nods, returning back to his English assignment. 

Fifteen minutes later and one finished English assignment, Hitoshi heads to Papa’s desk. He really has no idea what it could be. Well, he wants it to be that he’s transferring to the hero course, but he doesn’t think it’s going to be that simple. 

Once the last student leaves and the door is closed, Hitoshi asks, “What’s up, Papa?” 

“I have good news, ‘Toshi. Your dad and I talked with Principal Nezu this morning. He’s willing to consider your transfer to the hero course,” Papa grins at him. 

Hitoshi wasn’t expecting that. So he did enough? He’ll be transferred? He feels giddy at the thought. Hope crashing over him. 

And then he sobers. Realizing what Papa actually said. 

Consider his transfer. 

Not that he’s transferring.

“What does that mean? Willing to consider my transfer?,” Hitoshi asks quietly. He’ll do it. Whatever it is. He wants this so bad. 

“It means he wants to test you again. See what you can do with a little more training.”

Hitoshi nods slowly. He can do that. And it makes sense. He is already far behind the hero course students. Of course Nezu would want to see if he is capable of progress before changing his schedule. 

“Okay. When do I start?,” he says, determination written across his face. 

Papa grins, ruffling Hitoshi’s hair, “That’s my ‘Toshi. Your dad wants to start today. He’s going to teach you how to use the capture weapon.” 

Hitoshi’s eyes widen, a giant grin overtaking his face, “What? Really?” He’s always wanted to use Dad’s capture weapon. It’s so cool and practical, especially for Hitoshi. His quirk isn’t strength based, just like Dad. He needs something that will even the playing field. 

“Yes, really. Meet him in gym gamma today after school. We’ll get you in the hero course soon enough.” 

___

July 2030

“Do you want to study together later for our finals? It’s coming up quick and they’re gonna kick my ass,” Suzuki asks Hitoshi. They’re at lunch. Hitoshi’s eye keeps straying over to the hero course students across the cafeteria. They’re just so loud.

“Uh, yeah. We can during study hall,” Hitoshi replies, dragging his eyes back to his friend. “I have training with Aizawa after school.” 

Suzuki huffs a laugh, “When do you not have training with Aizawa?” One of the hero course students is standing, yelling at the others. Small explosions emanating from his palms. “Are you sure you want to join that madness over there?” He points to the hero course students with his fork. “We’re a lot quieter here in general studies.” 

Hitoshi stares at the hero students, specifically one. He keeps catching Hitoshi’s attention, and he’s not sure why. At least Hitoshi knows his name now. 

Kaminari. 

Kaminari Denki. 

Kaminari plagues his thoughts and Hitoshi doesn’t quite understand. He’s loud. Obnoxious. Constantly laughing. 

He’s everything Hitoshi wishes he could be. 

Kaminari probably has never had a difficult day in his life. 

Hitoshi is jealous of him.

Hitoshi sighs, “I don’t have to fit in with them to be a hero.” He turns back to Suzuki, “Besides, do you think I would just leave you when I’m transferred?” 

Suzuki hums, “No, I guess not.”

___

November 2030

Training sucks. 

That’s an understatement. 

Hitoshi is bone tired everyday. He’s improved a lot, he thinks. It’s been almost seven months since he started training with his dad. Papa also helps him with his quirk. Hitoshi is pretty good at mimicking people now, especially with his new persona chords. 

He’s also fairly decent with the capture weapon. Though, that was way harder to learn than mimicking people. His dad makes it look so effortless. 

It’s not. Not at all. 

The first couple of months he was constantly getting tangled in it. But that hasn’t happened in the last two months. He can also control people for longer with his quirk. He’s up to an hour now. 

He still gets nose bleeds and headaches when he overuses his quirk, but he’s improving.

Which is why he is so frustrated at the moment. It’s been seven months. And for what? He’s still not in the hero course. Still doesn’t know when this second test is going to be. No one will answer his questions. 

The horrible part of his brain thinks he’s never going to transfer. That he has put in all this work for nothing. Even Suzuki talks to him less. He says nothing is wrong, but Hitoshi can tell something is up. He’s left Hitoshi on read way too often now. 

Sure Hitoshi has been busy. Training has taken up most of his time so he hasn’t been able to hang with Suzuki. And now that they’re in the dorms, Dad has made the training sessions even longer. Hitoshi thinks he’s getting impatient too. Hitoshi probably isn’t improving fast enough. 

He’s trying though. He really is. 

He throws a punch at his Dad, who barely deflects it. They’re practicing hand to hand combat and Hitoshi is throwing himself into every last move like his life depends on it. Dad counters it, pushing Hitoshi back, but he quickly recovers. Hitoshi lets out a growl of frustration as he continues to push forward aggressively. Completing quick smooth movements like Dad taught him, except he’s becoming more agitated the more Dad blocks him. 

Dad lets him continue like this for a minute before sending him to the ground. Hitoshi lays there breathing harshly, trying desperately to fight the tears that want to fall. 

He’s not even sad. He’s frustrated. 

He feels trapped in an endless loop of failure, and he doesn’t know how to get out. 

Dad walks up to him, nudging him with his foot, “Something is bothering you today. Care to talk about it?” 

Hitoshi’s hands cover his face. “Why are you training me?,” he says between his fingers.

Dad sits beside him and hums, “Because I see potential in you. I wouldn’t train you if I didn’t think you could make it. Even with you being my son.” 

“What if you’re the only one?,” he whispers. Finally voicing his fear. What if he isn’t hero material? What if he’s never good enough for the hero course? He’s not sure if he can handle that reality. 

“Elaborate on that,” Dad says calmly. 

Hitoshi huffs a sigh at him, dropping his arms. He sits up so he’s facing his dad. “I’m supposed to have another test to get into the hero course. It’s been seven months, Dad. I think I have improved but what if I never get there? What if I’m not good enough? Then what?” 

“You are ready, Hitoshi. Your test is next week,” Dad deadpans. 

Wait. What?

“What?,” Hitoshi couldn’t have heard him correctly. 

“Yes. Why do you think I have been pushing you so hard these past couple of weeks? Your test is next Friday. You’re going to go up against class A and B.” 

Hitoshi’s mouth falls open. “I thought I wasn’t improving fast enough and you were getting impatient with me. How long have you known about the test?”

Dad smirks at him, “I’ve known about your test since September. Vlad King and I decided what it would be. I just didn’t know the exact date until last week.” He furrows his brows at Hitoshi, “You thought I was unimpressed with your progress? That’s illogical Hitoshi. It’s very obvious how proud I am of you. I told your papa the other day how well you did at training.”

Hitoshi gives an unimpressed look, “You told him I didn’t fall or get tangled once at training that day. I thought it was a joke Dad.” 

Dad smirks, “Like I said, obvious. The capture weapon is extremely difficult to master.” 

Hitoshi’s hands jump to his temples, “Oh my god, Dad. You are so bad at that. Just because it’s obvious to you doesn’t mean the rest of us see it.” 

“Are you still on about that bike? Because breaking is obvious, Hitoshi,” Dad says, trying and failing to hide his smile. 

“I was twelve and had never ridden a bike before! You didn’t tell me how to break. That’s why I ran into the car,” he says in indignation. 

Dad chuckles at him, “I am sorry I didn’t teach you how to break,” he sobers a little, “and that you thought I was unhappy with your progress. You have done amazing these past seven months. I know you are ready for the hero course.” 

“Really? You really think so?”

“Mhmm. Now, let’s go another round. I actually had to try on that last one.”

___

Today is the day. 

Today Hitoshi will prove that he belongs in the hero course. 

He’s so fucking nervous. Like can’t eat nervous. 

His whole plan and dream of becoming a pro hero rests on the outcome of today. Thankfully his Dad knows him well and is making Hitoshi meet up with him beforehand. Hitoshi might actually spiral today if left alone. 

“You’re worrying,” his dad says, handing Hitoshi a cup of coffee. They’re in his dad’s office and Hitoshi is pacing. 

“I know. I know, Dad. I just can’t get the thoughts to stop. They’re loud today.” He continues to pace in the small office. 

His dad watches him for a minute longer. “What is your biggest fear right now?,” Dad asks. 

Hitoshi whirls to face him, “Um, that I’ll embarrass myself. That I’ll let you and Papa down. That I’m not hero material. That all of the work I’ve done the past seven months was for nothing.” He lets out a shaky breath and grips his coffee cup. He can feel his hands shaking. 

It’s never a good sign when his hands start shaking.

Dad rounds the desk so he’s standing right in front of Hitoshi. He places a hand on each of Hitoshi’s shoulders, grounding him. “You are more than ready for today. You have put in the practice. Countless hours of training with your Papa and me. You are going to do great.” 

“But what if I freeze? What if I freeze up and mess up my only chance?” 

Dad squeezes his shoulders. “Did you freeze up during the Sports Festival?,” he asks calmly. 

“No,” he shakes his head.

“Then there’s your answer. You thought the Sports Festival was your only chance and you didn’t freeze once. Did quite well actually. You will not freeze today.” 

He says it so matter-of-factly that Hitoshi has no option other than to believe him.

___

It’s been a full day since his test with class 1-A and 1-B. He thinks he did pretty well all things considered. Dad said he was proud so that’s something if nothing else. 

He turns over on his bed, skipping to the next song. They’re at their actual house this weekend, not the dorms. Dad and Papa thought it would be best to have a little break from UA while they wait for the decision. The meeting isn’t until Monday anyways. 

Hitoshi should probably be worrying about that. He knows his dads think that’s what got him in a contemplative mood, but it honestly isn’t that. He did his very best. There wasn’t anything else he could have done better. 

No. It’s a certain boy that has been plaguing his thoughts. 

The same boy that has plagued his thoughts for months. Only now it’s the same two lines playing on a loop. 

With those looks you must be popular with the ladies.

Which is just a ridiculous thing to say to someone you just met. Like he called Hitoshi hot. That’s what he meant, right? Hitoshi didn’t know how to respond to that; his brain kind of stopped working for a moment. 

But that has nothing on the other line he can’t stop thinking about. 

But I like you, dude! You’re a proper hero hopeful, just like the rest of us.

It makes him blush, which is something he doesn’t do. 

But I like you, dude!

He said it even after he’d seen Hitoshi’s quirk in action. 

I like you, dude!

Even after he told everyone he didn’t want to be their friend. 

I like you.

___

January 2031

Hitoshi sits in his new dorm. He honestly can’t believe this is happening. He transferred to the hero course. He transferred into 1-A. And a whole trimester earlier than he was supposed to! 

He was supposed to transfer to 1-B starting second year but a spot opened up in 1-A. 

Hero course spots don’t stay open for long. 

He’s kind of just soaking it in for the moment. Nothing is set up in his room. Boxes full of his things are everywhere. He hasn’t even put sheets on his bed yet.

No. He’s sitting in the middle of the floor, eyes closed, listening to his music through his headphones. 

He’s really here. 

Really, truly here. 

His eyes fly open, startled, when he feels a tap on his shoulder. 

Kaminari stands in front of him, saying something and pointing. 

Hitoshi pushes his headphones off, letting them hang around his neck. “What?” 

Kaminari huffs a small laugh, “I said I knocked,” he points at the door, “but you didn’t hear me.” 

“So you decided to barge in uninvited?,” Hitoshi asks, deadpanned. 

Kaminari takes a step back, smile fading fast and crossing his arms. He rubs his arm briefly. “I am sorry. That was extremely rude of me. I’ll leave you be.” He takes another step back, turning towards the door. 

Hitoshi isn’t sure why, but the next words out of his mouth are, “Wait. What were you going to say to me?” 

Kaminari turns back to him, a small smile on his face, “Oh, Welcome to Class 1-A! We’re glad you’re here.” He points a pair of finger guns at Hitoshi, making him laugh. Kaminari looks around his room briefly. “Do you want help unpacking?” 

And again, Hitoshi doesn’t know why, but he finds himself saying, “Okay.” 

It might have something to do with the I like you, dude! running through his head.