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Shouta has had his suspicions about Hitoshi's home life for a while. It hadn't been a thought when he first approached him, offered to train him, but it only took Shouta two hours to request a look at his file.
He had to pitch his case to Nedzu himself, because he wasn't technically Hitoshi's teacher in the first place, but just in those two hours he had seen enough suspicious behaviour—especially regarding his quirk and how Hitoshi talked about it—for him to have a compelling argument, or five, and the file had only confirmed Shouta's suspicions.
Hitoshi was in foster care and the file painted him as a villain to be and Shouta fears that no one ever hid those things from him and instead told them to the kid over and over again until he started to believe it himself.
It would certainly explain the desperation which with Hitoshi had reacted to his offer, and Shouta doesn't like it one bit.
He keeps a close eye on the kid whenever he can, but school hours are limited and so is his time with Hitoshi, even more so than his normal class, and he's aware that he's pushing Hitoshi but he needs him to transfer over to the hero course as soon as possible.
It wouldn't be a problem, if Hitoshi would just talk to him, would just confide in him and tell him what the fuck is going on at his home, but the kid is tight-lipped and no prodding has gotten him to open up.
And in all honesty, Shouta is scared to push too far because then Hitoshi will shut down on him completely and Shouta couldn't bare to lose him.
So he keeps looking, he keeps cataloguing every suspicious bruise, he keeps being there, he keeps offering his help in the most generic way he can, all so that one day Hitoshi maybe finds the courage to speak up, but so far—nothing.
He has nothing to show for all of his efforts and Shouta is getting antsy.
Hizashi knows about it, of course, Shouta has talked this over with him intensively, and they are more than ready to give Hitoshi a stable, loving home, but he still needs him to speak up first and that seems to be something that's never going to happen.
Shouta promised himself he wouldn't push, that he would never corner Hitoshi like that, that he would never, ever put him into a position where he might think that he has to answer or Shouta won't train him anymore but when Hitoshi comes in with an obvious injury somewhere on his torso, Shouta can't keep quiet anymore.
"What happened?" he wants to know and he carefully observes the way Hitoshi holds himself as stiff as he can, breathes as shallowly as he can and he doesn't like it one bit.
It screams of a rib fracture, maybe just a bruise if they are lucky, but it's definitely something Hitoshi should speak up about, should seek help for and instead he strolled into the gym as if he had every intention of training as if nothing at all was amiss.
Shouta is no longer going to tolerate that.
"Nothing happened, why would you even say that," Hitoshi gives back, mumbled and without inflection so that it cannot be misconstrued as an actual question and Shouta bites back a sigh.
"You're injured," Shouta bluntly says because that injury is not well hidden and he watches how Hitoshi goes pale.
"I'm not."
"Don't lie to me," Shouta almost growls out because he's sick and tired of all of Hitoshi's lies, of the way he plays his own hurts down, of the way he protects everyone who ever dared to hurt him.
This will stop right now and if Shouta has to throw his weight around, then fine—he'll do it.
As long as he gets Hitoshi out of that situation it doesn’t even matter if he still likes him afterwards. Shouta just needs him safe and sound and unhurt and everything else doesn't matter in the slightest.
"I'm not lying," Hitoshi hotly gives back and his breathing goes quick and shallow and he must be in so much pain, and yet he still doesn't ask for help.
"You are. You so obviously are. Your ribs are injured and I don't understand why you won't just ask for help. I'm right here, why are you not asking me for help?" Shouta almost blurts out and he sounds more desperate than he would like to, but why can't Hitoshi confide in him?
"Because you're not safe!" Hitoshi yells back, clearly taken aback by his own outburst because he slams a hand over his mouth and ducks his head as if he's expecting a hit for his insolence and for a moment Shouta sees red because how often did he have to be hurt for this to be his first instinct.
"The hell does that mean, kid?" Shouta wants to know because he doesn't get it, he has made sure that all of his kids know that he's a safe person to talk to, despite his gruff exterior, that they can come to him with all of the things that bother them and that he'll do their best to help and here is the one kid he actively, desperately wants to help and he says he's not safe?
What utter bullshit is that?
"It means that you're an adult and a teacher and those two are notoriously never safe for me, not ever! So don't talk to me as if you want what's best for me because I know you don't and if you should turn out to be—"
Hitoshi cuts himself off with a pained gasp and Shouta doesn't like to see the tears in his eyes but he can't drop this now, he can't stop pushing because they are never going to get anywhere if he doesn't set Hitoshi straight.
"So I'm safe enough to privately coach you, I'm safe enough to be in a sparring fight with, I'm safe enough to practice your quirk on but you can't trust in me to get you out of this situation?" Shouta incredulously asks because how the fuck does that even make sense but Hitoshi nods.
"Yeah."
"That makes zero sense, kid," Shouta honestly says and Hitoshi reaches up to tug at his hair.
"You don't get it, you don't, nothing is safe for me, I can't trust you, I can't!"
For a moment Shouta watches him panic, watches him breathe too heavily before speaks up again.
"It's not that you don't trust me; you're just scared."
He says it more dismissively than he should have, maybe, but at least it gets him Hitoshi's attention back.
"So what? You're saying that is worse?"
"No, kid," Shouta sighs out and takes a step forward. "It's different. You trust me. You're already half there. Now take that last step and accept my help, accept that I want what's best for you and then trust me to make it happen."
"You have no idea what you're talking about," Hitoshi desperately whispers and Shouta rolls his eyes.
"Yeah, of course I don't. I only have been a hero for over ten years now."
At that Hitoshi blinks.
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"You think it's easy to get a scared civilian to do anything? They are scared for their life and then a stranger comes up and asks them to do something. It's difficult, getting scared people to do literally anything but you know what?"
"What?"
"They trust me. They trust me because I'm a hero and so they trust that I am going to get them out, that I want what's best for them, despite how scared they are. You already trust me—why is it so hard for you to take that last step?"
Shouta has ruminated over this before; it's obvious that Hitoshi trusts him. He has opened up around him, has told him things about himself Shouta doubts anyone else knows. Hitoshi has trusted him with his quirk, too—trusted Shouta to be allowed to use it and to not be punished for it afterwards.
And it's obvious, so damn obvious, in the way some of the tension always bleeds out of Hitoshi when he's here, with Shouta, how he keeps his body angled slightly open, how he doesn't flinch at the slightest movement, not like he does outside of training, with anyone else other than Shouta.
Hitoshi is just too scared to take that last step and he will not allow that any longer.
Sometimes he has to push civilians, too, the fear clouding their judgement, no matter if they trust Shouta as a hero and then they need a push.
Hitoshi blinks at him, his eyes wide, and scared, and practically screaming for help.
"It's different," he finally breathes out. "It's different. This is training. You care for me here because I'm your student and you want me to succeed. Everything else is—different."
Ah. Of course Hitoshi would think that he is only worth something as a hero, as a student and not as a person.
Well, that's on Shouta. He should have clocked that way earlier.
"It's not," he says, and makes a conscious effort to gentle his voice. "It's not different. I care for you here because you're Hitoshi, not because you're a student or a hero-to-be. You're Hitoshi and I care for him. No matter if it's at school, during training or as a person. It's all you. And I want to help you."
For a moment, Shouta thinks that Hitoshi hasn't heard a goddamn thing he just said but then he takes a shuddering breath and the tears are flowing almost instantly.
"You just have to do what I tell you to and take that first step," Shouta softly adds, because he needs Hitoshi to be the one to reach out.
He can force it—and at this point he will if he really has to—but he would love for Hitoshi to just take that very first step and meet him not in the middle, Shouta doesn't need that, he just needs to meet him on the same path, that's all.
It just has to be the same path.
Hitoshi continues to cry, almost silent as the tears run down his face and his shuddering breath is really the only audible sign of his desperation at all and Shouta hopes that one day this boy can be as loud as he wants to be without having to fear repercussion.
"Hitoshi," Shouta says after long, long moments and this is the last branch he can extend to him, "what happened to your chest?"
Hitoshi can still blow him off, can still tell him that nothing is wrong, that nothing happened, that he's fine even though he so clearly isn't but he could also just—take the offer.
Shouta desperately hopes he'll take the offer.
"My foster father kicked me," Hitoshi whispers out, his voice clear and audible despite the tears and for a moment, Shouta feels dizzy with relief.
"Thank you," he mutters and steps close, pulls Hitoshi carefully into his arms. "Thank you, kid."
Hitoshi is silent and unmoving for a moment before his hands come up and almost desperately clutch at Shouta's jumpsuit.
"Don't, don't fuck this up," he mumbles into Shouta's shoulder. "Don't make me regret this, please."
He sounds so broken, so desperate and Shouta feels sick with the knowledge that one wrong word from him could probably shatter this kid into a million pieces, because he's cracked all over.
All of the people that were supposed to protect him and look out for him have walked over him—probably quite literally in some cases—and broken him down into this scared, fragile, shivering thing in Shouta's arms and he's not going to disappoint Hitoshi.
He's going to make it right, he's going to be safe and sturdy for Hitoshi, someone he can trust and lean on, no matter what, and if he gets to destroy a few lives along the way then Shouta will gladly do that, too.
"I won't, kid," Shouta promises him and even if it kills him, he's going to stick to that promise. "I promise. I'll keep you safe."
It only makes Hitoshi press closer and Shouta allows it, even though he fears it must hurt his chest something bad, but eventually he has to push Hitoshi away.
"First steps," he says and catches Hitoshi's gaze. "Recovery Girl and an official record of your injuries. I call CPS and the police."
"And where am I going?" Hitoshi asks, clearly scared out of his mind and Shouta gives him a smile.
"With me. You will go with me and you will stay with me. I'll make sure of it."
For a moment, it looks as if Hitoshi is going to protest, as if he's going to argue, but he very visibly swallows all of that down and forces himself to nod.
"Okay. I trust you."
"And I won't make you regret that."
And Shouta doesn't.