Chapter Text
Training was usually his time to destress.
It probably wasn’t the healthiest method, in all honesty- but it worked well enough. Usually it was an outlet for all his anger and bitterness to get out before he did something dumb, but today it just felt wrong. Every missed blow, wrong move, bad stance- they all added to the weight looming over his shoulder.
“You’re sluggish today.”
As if he didn’t know that- he had felt like there was a cloud shoved inside his head all day, of course he was sluggish. It took all he had to not snap back, instead just making more wrong moves and adding to the need to do exactly what he was trying not to.
Aizawa sighed, holding up a hand as their signal to stop. Hitoshi did so on cue, standing with too much tension in his shoulders and waiting for his teacher’s next words.
“We’re taking a break.”
The man waved a hand dismissively and walked back over to the mats. Present Mic, who was there so that Hitoshi wouldn’t get used to just one fighting style, watched with a concerned glint in his eyes but said nothing. Hitoshi shrugged, biting the corner of his bottom lip and walking back to his own stack of mats to pick up his water bottle and phone. He pulled up his knees close to his chest and took a generous sip of water. Settling down, he turned on his phone-
And nearly spit up said water.
Hitoshi choked down the liquid, oblivious to the looks of concern and quiet words shared between his teachers, and read the notification again.
There it was- the root of that fog trapped inside his head that choked his brain.
Text from Yamamoto: 5:32 pm
We’ve called the center. Your things will be waiting for you on the sidewalk if you aren’t out by six.
Shit. With a twenty minute walk to his house- old house, he corrected himself- that left barely any time for him to pack. Not to mention the fact that his training sessions ended at six…
“Um-“ His voice came out choked and watery, and Hitoshi was forced to dig his fingers into the legs of his gym uniform and try again. By now, he had both of his teachers’ eyes and had to fight the urge to tell them to look away again.
“There’s a… family emergency. I have to go.”
Mic raised an eyebrow, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “Alright, kiddo. Do you need a ride anywhere?”
That wasn’t a horrible idea, actually. It would save him a lot of stress…
“No, I’m fine. I have money for the bus.” That was absolutely a lie, he hadn’t walked dogs in weeks and was on his last few pieces of change, but his tongue betrayed him anyways. Aizawa gave his nod of approval- Hitoshi hoped it was approval.
“Go ahead, then. I’ll be seeing you next week?”
Hitoshi gave a quick nod, already standing and gathering his few things. Maybe if he ran he’d get a bit more time. With a hurried wave, he was out the gym and on his way to get dumped out yet again.
Shouta watched his student rush out, his hands clenching into fists with worry. A gentle hand was placed on his knee, the voice of his husband sounding moments later.
“He’ll be okay- if anything’s wrong I’m sure he’ll tell you.”
Shouta sighed, shaking his head. It was a nice thought, but Shinsou was closed off. They had been training for months and he still barely knew anything about the kid.
“Maybe.”
Hizashi gave a little smile, nudging Shouta’s knee with his own. “C’mon, sugar. We’ve got that appointment with… Uh, what’s her name…”
“Dinau Mae. I know.” He sighed one last time, reluctantly tearing his thoughts away from his pupil and standing. “You wanna just head straight there or go home first?”
Hizashi laughed and stood up, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he did so. “Shou, look at me. I look like a grease trap- I’m not going anywhere near our future kid like this.”
Shouta smiled fondly, picking up his bag. “Fair enough. Let’s go, then.”
“- and Mae will be there waiting for you in the office. You know where to go, right?”
Hitoshi bit on his tongue to stop himself from making a sharp retort- yes, he knew where the damn center was, he’s lived there for most of his life. Instead he nodded, hefting the weight of his backpack and sloppily packed suitcase around so he could make his getaway.
More goodbyes were bidden until the clock struck six and they were no longer legally obligated to let him stay in their house. Hitoshi instantly excused himself and left, hopping down the front stairs with more aggression than was probably necessary. Sighing, he began the trek back to Dinau Family Services.
A fancy name for a… less fancy establishment. It was the passion project of some rich upstart who quickly realized he didn’t have it in him to give a shit and pawned it off on the daughter of a family friend. A name change and some applications for government funding later, the center was born.
Hitoshi stood at the door now. It was an inconspicuous enough building, the only sign it was anything other than a large house was the ‘cozy’ wooden sign that hung on a metal pole extended from the building, almost as if the sign itself didn’t want to be associated with what lay beyond the door. He supposed it was fitting enough- the overflow facilities was generally where the kids who had already had too many strikes- be it age, issues, or simply a scary appearance- were sent to make more room for the kids people would actually want. Even then, there was hardly any competition for space. When he had last left, there were four kids other than himself. Same four he’d been with for ages- basically his siblings at this point.
Anyways. Hitoshi sighed, knocking quietly on the door that would lead immediately into Mae’s office- as if he needed to. Nobody ever visited. Without waiting for a response, he twisted open the doorknob and stepped comfortably back inside. Much to his surprise, there actually was a couple seated before Mae’s desk. The woman took no notice of him, carrying on with reading from her paper.
“- and we generally have potential fosters sit and get to know the kids in their element rather than conducting interviews. You two would-“ Bright blue eyes landed on Hitoshi, a halo of white heather stems poking shyly out from amongst just as saturated pink hair where he could never tell whether it was natural or not. Mae smiled, flashing a gap in her teeth. “Hitoshi! Come on in, kiddo.”
Two more sets of eyes turned to him- dark, dark grey and bright green- and Hitoshi felt his stomach grow heavy as if it was filled with rocks. That little feeling of ‘hey, where have I seen these people?’ was gone, short-circuiting his brain and leaving his tongue numb and dumb for all but one sentence.
“Oh, fuck no.”