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What a Waste to be so Alone

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Hitoshi had never been overly fond of crowds, even before starting school. He's always found them too intense for his liking with all the constant contact and noise. Although his dislike only evolved into straight up avoidance once he began attending U.A . 

He gnashes his teeth into a shaky grimace as the leader of the group of wannabe 'heroes' fist collides right into where his nose was seconds before, if he hadn't lifted his head, so it connected with his teeth instead. Hitoshi wasn't overly fond of getting another broken nose, although by the way his lip was pulsing and the coppery taste in his mouth, he's lucky he didn't lose a tooth. But alas, it would all be in the name of justice, because beating up a 15 year old is really doing everyone a favour. Really. 

The leader sneers at him and Hitoshi has a strange sense of satisfaction in the fact that they would all have their asses kicked if they tried this with anyone other than him. The biggest of the group, a teen who could probably bench press him, whose name he’s deliberately never learnt; holds him up by his underarms, where he hangs limply. He knows from experience that even if he does struggle, he won't get any leeway with them; he's no hero class student after all.  

“Leave him,” the leader- Hiruta maybe? spits pulling away, Hitoshi eyes his hand and smirks pleased, his teeth seem to have grazed the skin off his knuckles. He gets a punch in the gut for that, but he counts it as a win despite that. A small price to pay for knowing he pissed the baby thugs off. 

The big guy drops him and he falls to his knees cradling his aching gut carefully, watching them as they walk away laughing, shoving each other around jokingly. The leader stalls at the corner of the hallway.  

“Till next time,” his smile sharpens mockingly “Villain,” he saunters off chuckling to himself, as if he’s part of some grand scheme beyond Hitoshi's comprehension.

Hitoshi heaves a sigh, shifting himself with a wince so he's up against the wall as his classmates quirk finally wears off, just his luck having someone with a voice manipulation quirk in his class. His classmates really should see a doctor it's worrying that they're able to survive with so little brain cells. Because really, like he would waste the effort of using his quirk on those idiots. 

He presses a hand to his mouth cautiously, checking the damage. He hisses under his breath as it throbs unpleasantly at his touch; that’s definitely going to bruise. Hitoshi closes his eyes leaning back till his head connects with the wall. God he could do with a smoke right now. 

Footsteps echo from the hall to his right, Hitoshi wonders tiredly if those asshats from earlier decided to come back for more, but it's just a hero class student. Which is honestly nearly worse. If he has to deal with a happy go lucky hero student he might actually attack them, though he can't even throw a proper punch, or take one for that matter. So it'll be a very pitiful display but he'll do it.  

He waves cheerily, expression as uninterested as usual, raising a judgmental eyebrow when the guy jumps at the sight of Hitoshi, in all his bloodied glory. Sue him if he's feeling a little bit vindictive today. 

Blondie fidgets in place, rubbing his hands together anxiously. 

“O-oi! What… What’s wrong with you?! You haven’t been like, starting fights have you?” He demands electricity dancing across his fingertips, clearly unsettled by his appearance. This was familiar territory at least. 

Hitoshi slides his usual smirk into place “Think of it as training,” he tells him, purposely not answering the question. He’s long since got used to being accused by people, for things that were beyond his control. And anyway, this guy looks like the type that would just cause him problems if he knew what was really going on. 

Blondie turns an unhealthy white colour, which almost makes Hitoshi feel bad. Almost. It’s a bit too amusing for him to feel remorseful. 

His amusement is only escalated as Blondie backs away from him. 

“Nice chat, Mr. Pro Hero!” He calls after him voice monotone. Blondie walks faster and Hitoshi can’t help but chuckle lightly at the sight.  

Now, he just needs to make it back to the dorms. Maybe get an ice pack to help with the swelling too. Using the wall for support he gets to his feet, hands in pockets and starts to make his way back. If he's lucky the cafeteria will still be open and he’ll be able to get the good coffee for once.

Hitoshi mutters bitterly under his breath as he stares at the sign reading ‘CLOSED’ in big writing, hanging from the entrance to the cafeteria.  

Vending machines it is then; shitty coffee is better than no coffee. 

He turns on his heel and walks to where he knows the vending machines are situated. A familiar head of blonde hair with an unmistakable black lightning bolt, sits crouched in front of the machine pouting.  

“I swear to fucking god, Mr. Pro Hero if you broke that machine I will punch you. It won’t hurt, but it’ll make me feel better,” Hitoshi warns as he approaches. 

Blondie to his credit, didn’t jump at his appearance, but instead sank deeper into the depressive huddle he had going on.  

“I didn’t mean to,” He bemoans slouching further in on himself.  

 “I discharged electricity into it by accident I swear!” 

He snaps up suddenly and points an accusatory finger at him “And that’s not my name dammit, eyebags!” 

“Eyebags?” Hitoshi questions bemusedly 

“It’s Kaminari Denki!” He continues ignoring him 

“Ah, you’re the guy that short circuited himself during the final stages of the sports festival, right?”  

The other turns an impressive shade of red at that, even his ears were bright red. “Don’t bring that up!” He shouts waving his hands embarrassed.  

“Right, my bad Short Circuit,” Hitoshi snorts 

“Short Circuit?!” He squawks undignified  

“Anyway, you broke the machine, and the closest one is on the other side of campus. So you owe me coffee,” 

“What? No way dude, get your own coffee,” Blondie scoffs 

“But you’re a hero class student right? A trek to the other side of campus should be nothing for you,” Hitoshi smirks raising an eyebrow, as the blonde starts smiling bashfully.

“W-well, when you put it like that… guess I have no choice!” He exclaims rubbing the back of his head laughing, before racing off with Hitoshi’s money in hand. 

Hitoshi sits on the bench folding his long legs up as he scrolls through the junk clogging up his social feed. 

"That was surprisingly easy," he muses aloud as he waits for the other.  

Hitoshi is genuinely surprised when minutes later the blonde comes barreling back towards him full speed, shitty coffee in hand.  

He fires the can at him eagerly, almost hitting him in the face if he hadn’t caught it. Short circuit is practically gleaming with smugness, Hitoshi gives him a once over and sighs at how easy to manipulate he is. He's like an over eager golden retriever that just learned how to sit, and eagerly expects acknowledgement. 

Still, he’s not entirely heartless so he sends the blonde a muttered thanks as he pops the cap open and takes a long sip of the drink. As expected it tastes like shit. He grimaces, eyeing the can in disgust.

“Gross,” he sighs in distaste, finishing the can despite his contradictory words. 

When he looks up again Blondie is staring at him with an unreadable expression on his face. Hitoshi raises a brow at him with an amused smirk.

“Like what you see?” he snarks leaning forward, 

Blondie turns an interesting shade of pink at that, jerking his head away so fast it’s a wonder he doesn’t get whiplash. Hitoshi holds in his snort at him, as he stumbles away from him, ears burning bright tomato red.

“See ya around Short Circuit,” he calls after him, fully intending to not see him around again.

Getting involved with people never tends to end very well for him. That's the one lesson he actually learnt in Middle School. Trusting people was a waste of time unless there was something in it for them. Otherwise, forget about it.

Unfortunately, whilst he may have learnt that lesson it was becoming exceedingly clear that Kamikaze- or whatever his name had been--had the fortune of not learning it, and had decided that talking to Hitoshi was a great idea. Spoilers, it really wasn't.


Class was extra draining today, whether that be due to scrubbing graffiti off his desk before the homeroom teacher arrives yet again, or due to the sporadic testing his English teacher decided was apparently a great idea, he wasn't sure. What he was sure of was that if anyone got in between him and the cafeterias coffee machine he was going to become a mass murderer.

Thankfully, his classmates tended to part like he was Moses and they were the red sea when he got near, meaning that he got to the god that is coffee relatively quickly. Gotta love having your classmates literally so scared of you they avoid you like the plague.

Hitoshi’s always been pretty smart, so he knew from a young age the consequences of having a quirk like his would mean for him- Why people always looked at him pleadingly when he opened his mouth. The reputation his quirk had garnered him wasn’t pretty, and honestly if that electricity guy wasn't so damn oblivious maybe he'd catch on with how things worked already and leave Hitoshi to his cats, coffee and sleepless nights spent wondering why him-

"Shinsou!" oh dear god, please not again.

He sighs internally and turns to face the literal sun, with how bright he's smiling at him. He almost reaches up to check if just this exposure has cleared his skin, but aborts the movement when the spiky guy behind Kanimari eyes his hand weirdly. 

"Eat lunch with us," the blonde demands 

"No," he shoots down immediately. He would quite literally rather do anything else than force himself to play nice with the prospective heroes for an hour of his time that could be spent sleeping or avoiding being assaulted in corridors. 

"You always say no! C'mon man I'm not asking much!" he whines petulantly 

"My bad, you see I've just got so many people eager for my company its hard to make the time," he deadpans 

"I'm being serious here Shinsou!“ 

"So am I Karinama,"  

"It's Kaminari dammit!"  

"My apologies Karbonara," he bows his head slightly. 

He peeks a glance up through his eyelashes and Kami- whatever his name was looks about ready to throttle him, which is nice and familiar territory. 

His red-headed friend looking awfully amused by the whole situation tugs the other boys arm leading him away.  

"C'mon Kami, he clearly doesn't want to so let's head back, he'll cave in eventually," Spikes reassures the blonde.  

"I won't," he calls after them blandly.  

The blonde shoots him the stink eye to which he smiles merrily with that dead look in his eyes that he knows creeps people out and Blondie shudders. 

When he next sees the other is a really awkward time for him seeing as his face is has just been bashed into the corridor wall. Hitoshi blinks stars out of his eyes, and oh, broken nose again he thinks belatedly in despair, red, hot, thick blood pouring like a stream from the area of impact and staining his clothes- which he had literally just washed dammit! 

Hiruta? Hiruna? He still can't remember the guys name, but he pulls him back roughly, grip tight in his purple locks, he can see that self-righteous grin on his face again, and it dawns on him slowly that he really believes that what he's doing is the right thing. Not that Hitoshi can fault him. After all, sometimes, real late at night when he hasn't slept properly in days- he wonders, whether maybe it is.

He’s rearing back to help him make acquaintances with his good old friend the wall. Which is of course when Short Circuit shows up. 

He's breathing more blood in than air at this point but he still manages a strangled greeting at  the electric kid. Gotta keep up his appearance of being a pretentious ass after all.

"Short Circuit, nice of you to visit me but I'm currently occupied with my entourage of malicious stooges, so I'm afraid I'm all booked up right now," he tries to sound nonchalant but it's difficult with a broken nose and blood continuously flowing into your mouth. Which he had really wanted to avoid, do these assholes realise how long it takes to heal a broken nose? Without Recovery Girl? Cause it’s a fucking long time and Hitoshi just wants a straight nose dammnit!

Hiroma? Digs his head harder into the wall, and says something appropriately incriminating to Blondie, but Hitoshi is drowning them out at this point, it's a shame he can't see the abject horror on Short Circuits face, he sighs disappointed- which earns him a kick in the ribs, they should really learn that not all of his thoughts are surrounded around them. Awfully self-centered of them to assume so. He tunes back into the conversation at that point maybe they're saying something that won't put him to sleep. 

"You saw nothing alright? This guy ain't worth any of your heroics, trust me. He's your typical  villain, it's our duty to put people like him in their place. Right, Shinsou?" he needles lifting his face from the wall to bring them face to face. Ah never mind, this is like something from his brother’s corny high school novels, just when he thought it might be getting interesting, typical. 

"I'm sorry, do I know you? “ he asks faux-curiously

Hirina's face contorts in his rage and he lets out a predictable bellow and- oh, he's making friends with the wall again, great. He closes his eyes and waits for the inevitable collision.  

Except, it doesn't come. Instead Hitoshi falls in an ungraceful heap on the floor which while preferable to the wall, is still uncomfortable. He sits up in an attempt to catch his apparent 'saviour' and bask in their obviously godly presence.

Oh, it's Blondies friend Spikes, who is also apparently a rock- god the jokes he could make- as well as the blonde himself, it seems. He watches with slight interest as they wail on his assailants, who like he had pictured many, many times for his own satisfaction, got absolutely decimated by the hero course students. 

"My heroes," he says muffled by the jacket he’s using to collect the blood still pouring from his nose 

They both turn and frown at him, whether it's for the fact he's still bleeding or his nonchalant tone he's unsure but Hitoshi really doesn't give a shit anymore. 

Blondie points at him accusingly and he resists the urge to get up and shake Himura demanding he continue banging his head on the wall to block out the idiocy. Unfortunately, he's out cold.  

"The first time we met you were covered in blood then too! You told me it was training," 

Hitoshi shrugs a smirk unfurling at the corners of his mouth "I never said it was training for me. Should Heroes really jump to conclusions so easily?“

“Training?" Rocky speaks up for the first time his brows furrowed at the implication. 

"Obviously,” he drawls, ”After all who better to practice on than the 'villain kid'?" he questions spreading his arms sardonically.

He shakily gets to his feet, ignoring the protest of the two watching and turns to them his expression as blank as ever.

"Well, as delightful as this experience hasn't been I'll be going now gentlemen, I hope you understand, things to do, nurse to see, coffee to get, the usual.” he states

He's started his long walk to the cafeteria when a voice pipes up behind him.  

"Does… Does that happen often Shinsou," one of them- probably Blondie, asks hesitantly  

He sighs loudly and exaggeratedly, 

"Great, now it's turning into a pity Hitoshi party," he mutters 

Raising his voice he addresses the two behind 

"Fairly regularly I suppose," 

"Then why haven't you defended yourself?! Or went to a teacher or anything!?" the Blonde bursts out in… Concern? For him?  

Hitoshi mulls over how best to explain his predicament for a second before answering slowly.  

"Sometimes, even if you'll get seriously injured otherwise, it's in your best interest to not fight back at all," 

"How can that-!"  

"I'm not done so shut your mouth and listen," he intones deadly 

He hears twin gulps and carries on 

"If I use my quirk to defend myself they'll only go after me with twice as many people who are much more angry than those idiots. I'm quite accustomed to it at this point, there's quite a high demand for me because of it," he chuckles morbidly  

"And anyway," he continues lightly "They have to let out their feelings of extreme inadequacy due to my overwhelming power somehow,"  

There's silence as the heroes attempt to dissect the validity of that statement, they shouldn't bother he's an expert at what he does. When they fail to say anything of interest Hitoshi takes that as his cue to leave, before they start sympathising with him or God forbid, he holds in a shudder pitying him.  

"I thought your quirk was really cool," 

Is blurted out directly behind him before a scurrying of feet signals he's now alone again. But Hitoshi can't focus on any of that because what? What the hell is that guy on? His quirk literally steals a person free will and forces them to do what he says. How the fuck is that cool?  

Whatever he's nowhere near drunk enough to consider opening that particular can of worms. So it can fucking sit there and fester for all the fucks he currently gives.  

He trudges up the stairs leading to the roof two at a time, cause fuck being careful, when you're craving.  

Hitoshi only allows himself to relax when he's leant up against the railings idly dangling his head over as he lights his first of many cigarettes. 

It's still vaguely early, so students are still wandering round the grounds, like usual that stupid twisted feeling of something gross like longing threatens to launch itself like a fucking torpedo right from his stomach out his throat in a unintelligible mess of words. 

Hitoshi forcefully stubs out the remains of his flickering light on the metallic railing, frowning deeply as he hangs bonelessly off the rail, staring off into space. 

Wonder who would catch him if jumped right now, into the fray of wandering students below, Hitoshi ponders. He has no doubt some sacrificial idiot would, not for Hitoshi's benefit but simply to be known as the guy who stopped someone from killing themselves. His heart rate accelerates minutely as he stares down. 

He pushes off the railing with a sigh. Nah, that'd be boring anyway. 

He lights up another as he stumbles down the stairs, letting the light hang from his lips as he hums, until wincing at the reminder of his still very broken nose, god he must be way more out of it than he realised. 

“I thought your quirk was really cool!"  Loops repeatedly in his head, as he descends the last few steps.  

He barks out a laugh that's probably way too cheerful sounding from how fucked his face must be, but he can't help it, they keep building up in his chest until he's laughing hysterically, with no clue why, just that suddenly everything is hilarious.  

He’s practically coughing up a lung from wheezing laughter by the time he notices the footsteps heading towards him. 

Hitoshi lets out a last chuckle and straightens up from where he'd inevitably hunched over in his laughing fit.

“Man, you just don’t know when to quit do ya?” he asks, heading gazing up at the ceiling as he takes a long drag of smoke.

The other doesn't answer, the blonde simply shuffles over to where Hitoshi is now leaning against the wall, and still isn't looking at him. He holds out a tan scarred hand, with a small smile.  

“We should get you checked out,” he suggests with that same warm smile “That looks sore,” he adds eyeing up his probably crooked nose. 

Hitoshi finally tilts his head to look down at the smaller male, and the hand extended between them, waiting. Hitoshi isn’t sure he deserves such patience, certainly not from someone as bright as Kaminari. 

He takes his hand. It's completely spur of the moment and he panics as soon as his cold hand meets warm golden skin, his breath catches slightly as he waits for the other to pull away. He doesn't. 

Instead he's given a pull away from the wall, then released and quietly lead to the nurses office. Hitoshi feels sick and tired and so goddamn warm, when eyes of molten gold meet his own dull lilac reassuringly as the nurses office door is pushed open- when did they get here? 

Recovery Girl seems to age a couple years every time he's here, which he does feel bad for, it’s why he doesn't go to her unless he has to.

“You again, huh? What, did you ‘trip down some stairs again’” she huffs irritably

Hitoshi shrugs “Something like that,”

She sighs again, and points at the unoccupied bed in the room, the other having the curtains drawn around it, “Sit,”

She whirls around to face Kaminari “Thank you for seeing he got here without anymore ‘accidents’, you’re free to go I just need to patch him up,”

Kaminari looks hesitantly at Hitoshi as he lingers in the doorway. Hitoshi simply rolls his eyes as he shoos him away with his hand, he really is like a Golden Retriever he contemplates, as he watches him retreat down the corridor disappearing with one last enthusiastic wave.

Recovery Girl works silently, before slyly commenting “What happened to ‘other people don’t interest me?’” 

“Stop, we are not having this conversation,” he denies immediately  

She nods placidly and continues working for the next few minutes 

“He is quite charming though, leading you around like a damsel in distress,”

Hitoshi can feel the red creeping up his cheeks like some god awful infection and abruptly gets up, and marches out with a curt but still polite thank you thrown out quickly, as he walks as fast as he can away without actually running. 

Recovery Girl watches him leave with a sad wistfulness about her. 

Shaking her head in contemplation she walks over to the bed with drawn curtains "Such a kind soul isn't he Shouta?” she asks pulling back the curtain on the occupied bed, revealing Aizawa Shouta sat up and listening intently.

Aizawa stares at the door with an incomprehensible look “Yes, he truly is,” he mutters softly.