Chapter Text
Did Hitoshi ever mention how much he hates people? Because he hates people. He really, really, really hates people. He hates the way they stare at him in disgust and hatred. He hates how they push him around. He hates how they call him a villain. (He hates how he has to hate them first. To hate them before they hate him.)
Bakugou Katsuki takes the cake as the person he hates the most. Transferring to Aldera was supposed to help with the bullying. Help as in not make it worse. But Bakugou was a piece of work and Hitoshi was never going to be on the top of the food chain.
With his back against the wall of the supply closet, Hitoshi glances at his phone, it’s dead but he can tell he’s only been in here five minutes, why is the doorknob rattling already? He highly doubts a teacher would let him out and considering how they told him that this supply closet isn’t in use, he doubts it’s the janitor either. As the door opens, he finds himself momentarily blinded by the bright lights, just long enough for someone to be shoved in and the door to shut again, locked from the outside.
Hitoshi can’t really see the kid they shoved in, the lights in here don’t work, but he turns on the flashlight he keeps in his bag just in time to see the kid’s face as they maneuver themselves into a seated position. The kid’s small, with green hair and freckles, and is shaking just the tiniest bit.
The kid’s wide eyes land on him. “H-hi.”
“Hey.”
They’re quiet. Because Hitoshi is awkward and this kid seems scared. Figures he’d be scared of the villain.
“You know when they’ll come back to let us out?”
The kid blinks at him. “Monday probably.”
“...it’s Friday.”
The kid just shrugs. “I have snacks if you want to share. Can’t fit too many in my bag because Kacchan finds them and dumps them, but I have some shoved in various pockets. I also hid some in here, it was hard getting them on the higher shelves, but I think they should still be there.”
Have they done this to him before? “Kacchan?”
“Bakugou. We were friends when we were little.”
Hitoshi scoffs. “Doesn’t seem like much of a friend.”
The kid pulls out a small light from his bag, with an electric cord attached that he plugs into the wall. “That’ll stay on for the rest of the weekend. I also have a phone charger and some books.”
“How often do they lock you in here?”
“Often enough. They’ve never locked anyone else in here though.”
Hitoshi stares at the kid. He’s not panicked, acts like this is normal, and isn’t phased by him being in here? Who is this kid?
“I’m Shinsou Hitoshi.” Since when am I the social one?
The kid’s eyes widened, like he was surprised Hitoshi was still talking to him. “Midoriya Izuku.”
Hitoshi nods. “So, Kacchan?”
“Ah, um, yeah. He doesn’t really like those he sees as weak…”
“So anyone that isn’t him.”
Midoriya giggles. Cute. “Basically.”
“So why do you call him Kacchan? It doesn’t exactly seem like he’s very nice to you.”
“Habit. Our moms are best friends so I have to call him that when we see each other at dinner once a month. That and… it annoys him. I don’t exactly have another way to get back at him… not without getting myself into more trouble.”
Hitoshi raised an eyebrow. “Your moms are best friends? Your mom is best friends with the mother of your bully?”
Midoriya looked sheepish. “She’s never really noticed…”
Hitoshi blinks. “Full offense to her, but that’s pathetic.”
“It’s ok. I’m used to it.”
“Doesn’t make it ok.”
Midoriya shrugged. Hitoshi studies him. He’s curious why they’d bully him. He assumes it’s quirk related, and he’s curious, but he doesn’t want his own quirk brought up. This kid doesn’t seem to know what it is and he doesn’t want to be stuck in a closet with someone who’s scared of him the whole weekend.
As if sensing the conversations over, Midoriya pulls out a notebook, putting on some headphones and staring at his phone screen as he jots down notes.
“Do your parents never notice that you’re not home over the weekend?”
Midoriya looks up. “Mom’s usually busy at the hospital.”
“You said you had a phone charger, right? Can I borrow it?”
“Sure.” Midoriya hands him a charger, and while he’s a bit surprised that it goes with his phone type, he’ll focus on being thankful. If he can just get his phone on, he can call his dad.
Hitoshi knows his dad will hate that Aldera turned out to be worse than the last school. Knows that after this, he’ll have to go to online school. He doesn’t mind much. The only reason they agreed to try Aldera first was so he could try to find a friend. “Social interaction is important,” his pops had said.
He looks over at Midoriya, who’s still using his phone to watch a video. “Why not call your mom?”
“She won’t answer.”
Hitoshi stills. Fuck he hates that answer. Hates that he knows that this kid is either in the system or has a crappy quirk just from that sentence alone. Hitoshi knew he was lucky when his dads adopted him a couple months ago. He looks at the kid across from him, who’s leaning against the door like he’s accepted this. (He doesn’t wonder if his dads will adopt one more.)
Midoriya pauses for a moment before looking back up at him. “Do you want to borrow my phone to call your parents?” He looks slightly uncomfortable. “Sorry, I forgot your parents might answer…”
And damn it if Hitoshi doesn’t hate that. Hate that and know that that was him only a couple months ago, before his dads found him and decided he was theirs.
Hitoshi shook his head. “It’s good. Dad has a special ringtone set for me. It’ll be easier to call from my phone once it’s charged.”
“Ok.”
It only takes Hitoshi a moment to decide that Midoriya is strange and too used to being hurt and needs help. That maybe this one needs a friend just as much as Hitoshi does. And maybe Hitoshi can make a friend. (He doesn’t think about his dad’s infinity for collecting strays.)
“Whatcha doing?” Is that really the best he could do? Damn, he hates social interaction.
Midoriya freezes, his expression a bit guarded. Why is his expression so guarded? Why is he holding his notebook like Hitoshi will attack it? (And fuck it if Hitoshi doesn’t already know the answer and hate it.) “I-uh, I like to analyze quirks… So I tend to look up hero fights so I can analyze their quirks…”
That… was not what Hitoshi was expecting. Dad’s mentioned quirk analysis before, told him that it’s useful for hero work, told him that not enough people realize just how useful it is. And here’s a kid that does it for fun.
“That’s a really useful skill for heroics if that’s what you’re going for.”
Midoriya stares at him. “...you think I could be a hero?”
Hitoshi shrugs. “Yeah. Anyone can be a hero if they work hard enough. And quirk analysis is really good for hero work.”
Midoriya is still staring at him, a strange look in his eyes. “You-you don’t know who I am, do you?”
“How would I know you? We aren’t even in the same class.”
Midoriya is still staring at him. “They tend to make sure everyone knows who I am.”
And damn it if that doesn’t make Hitoshi mad. That this kid probably isn’t talking to him because he’s antisocial but because he’s just grateful Hitoshi isn’t hurting him and doesn’t want that to change. “Don’t think that applied to me.”
Midoriya tilts his head, looking slightly nervous. “A-are you quirkless?”
Hitoshi freezes. And fuck if that doesn’t explain a lot. If this kid is quirkless… “No, my quirk’s brainwashing.”
Midoriya’s mouth falls open. “That’s so cool!” What? “Is it response based? I’m betting it’s response based. Your voice is really smooth which is usually a side effect of having a voice activated quirk. Is there a limit for how long you can hold someone? What counts as a response? How many people can you hold? Are there limits to what you can make someone do?”
It’s Hitoshi’s turn to gape. “What-how the fuck?”
Midoriya shrinks back a bit. “S-sorry, I tend to ramble. I know it’s annoying.”
“No! No, it’s not annoying. I’m just surprised. Yeah, it’s response based. I’m not really sure of my limits.” He pauses. “You’re not scared of me?”
Midoriya relaxes. “Why would I be?”
“I could take control of you.”
Midoriya shrugs. He shrugs. “I doubt you’d make me do anything bad.”
Hitoshi smiles. “Thanks.”
Midoriya beams—and fuck if that isn’t bright.
They go quiet. Midoriya goes back to his notebook and Hitoshi checks his phone, which still won’t turn on. They sit there for a bit before Midoriya yawns. It’s then that Hitoshi notices the dark circles under his eyes.
“You can take a nap if you want.”
Midoriya just waves him off and Hitoshi rolls his eyes. He gently takes Midoriya’s phone and notebook, setting them to the side, before gently grabbing Midoriya, with carefully telegraphed movements, and pulls him over to sit next to him.
Hitoshi gently pushes Midoriya to lay down, his head on Hitoshi’s lap. “Just go to sleep. I’ll wake you up when my dad gets here.”
“Shins-”
“Nope. Sleep.” Hitoshi cards his hand through Midoriya’s curls, a bit surprised at how bold he’s being with this new person. (It’s not because he knows what it’s like to feel exhausted and unsafe. Not because he wants Midoriya to feel safe around him because he has a feeling he isn’t safe anywhere else.)
It only takes Midoriya a few minutes to fall asleep with Hitoshi’s hand still in his hair. Hitoshi hates how small Midoriya looks. He hates that it’s only now that he notices the charred shoulder of his uniform and realizes that Bakugou most likely burned Midoriya. He hates that Midoriya isn’t reacting to it. He hates what that says about how often he’s burned.
It takes around what Hitoshi assumes is twenty more minutes for his phone to turn on. He calls his dad, keeping his phone on the charger and his voice low.
“Hitoshi? Are you okay?”
Hitoshi smiles softly at the worried undertone in his dad’s voice. It’s nice to have someone that cares. “Hey dad. I need you to come get me. A couple of kids locked me and another kid in a supply closet on the second floor.”
His dad inhales sharply. “I’ll be there in fifteen. Where on the second floor?”
He hears noise in the background as his dad most likely runs out of UA. He doesn’t doubt his dad will take the rooftops. “Hallway F.”
“Ok. Keep talking to me Hitoshi.”
Hitoshi glances down at Midoriya. “Can’t. Midoriya looks exhausted and I just got him to sleep a bit ago. Go ahead and call Pops to meet us in front of the school.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. And Dad?”
“Yes, Hitoshi?”
“Can we get the guest room ready please?”
“Parents?”
“I had to charge my phone because it was dead. Midoriya didn’t even bother to call his mom or think to offer his phone so I could call you until after I asked why he didn’t call his mom. He forgot you might answer.”
His dad swears. “We’ll get the guest room ready. I’ll call Zashi and be there in ten.”
“Love you, dad.”
“Love you too.”
Hitoshi hangs up, listening to the quiet humming of the electric light that was pushed to the side. Midoriya is still sleeping peacefully and Hitoshi keeps carding his fingers through his curls. (He already knows their guest room won’t stay a guest room for long.)
Nine minutes later and his dad opens the door, lock picks in hand. “Fuck it, Hitoshi, you’re going to online school.”
Hitoshi cracks a smile.
“That the kid.”
“Yeah. His name’s Midoriya.”
Hitoshi knows he promised Midoriya he’d wake him up. He also knows that Midoriya has to be exhausted. He wonders how badly he’d react to waking up in an unfamiliar place.
Hitoshi runs his fingers through Midoriya’s curls a little firmer. “Midoriya, my dad’s here.”
Hitoshi doesn’t look at his dad. (Doesn’t want to see his dad’s soft and worried look.)
“Shinsou?” Midoriya sits up and rubs his eyes.
“Hey, ready to go?”
Midoriya yawns and looks at him. “Yeah. Thanks for calling your parents.”
“No problem.” Hitoshi stands and pulls Midoriya up, grabbing his notebook, phone, and electronic light and placing them in his bag. “Let’s go.”
Midoriya looks at his dad and blinks, then he looks at Hitoshi. “Your dad’s Eraserhead?”
Hitoshi snorts, because of course Midoriya recognizes him. A glance at his dad’s face tells him that he’s equal parts shocked, exasperated, and concerned about his security.
Hitoshi just pulls him past his dad and down the hallway. “Yep. Now let’s go. We’ll get the guest room ready once we’re home.”
“What?” Midoriya’s looking at him with wide eyes. “No, it’s o-okay! I can just go home!”
Hitoshi narrows his eyes at him. “You didn’t bother to call your mom because she won’t pick up.”
“And? I can walk home.”
“Your shoulder is burnt.”
Midoriya flinches. “I-”
Hitoshi sees his pops pull up in front of the school and stops, making Midoriya face him. “You’re hurt. You’ve been hurt. Just… let us help you.”
Midoriya looks at him with wide eyes. “...I’m quirkless.”
“We don’t care. No one should care. Just… let us help.”
“...okay.”
Hitoshi pushes Midoriya into the backseat ahead of him, unsurprised when his first words are, “your other dad is Present Mic?”