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It's an uneventful Friday evening in the UA dorms, and Bakugou is screaming.
Typical.
Hitoshi massages his temples with a long-suffering exhale. He's not sure exactly why Bakugou is screaming, but he isn't going to push for an explanation. He might only have been a member of Class 1-A for 12 days, but he's pretty sure "don't piss off Bakugou without excellent cause" was Rule #1.
The unfortunate recipient of Bakugou's ire on this occasion is Kirishima - who, in Hitoshi's opinion, could do with being more conscious of his own mortality. As it is, the redhead is grinning up at his absolutely livid classmate, entirely unaffected by their confrontation.
And speaking of "entirely unaffected", nobody else in the common room is batting an eyelid. Most of 1-A are gathered here, gaming, reading, studying, or just hanging out. Hitoshi knows his new classmates must be used to this sort of behaviour, but…seriously?
Hitoshi attempts to return his attention to the manga he was flicking through. He can't.
"THERE IS NOTHING "MANLY" ABOUT ME TUTORING YOU, SHITTY-HAIR!" Bakugou roars, his face alarmingly flushed.
"There totally is, Baku-bro!" Kirishima insists. "Helping your friends is the manliest thing you can do!"
"CAN YOU FUCKING HEAR YOURSELF?!"
"Uh, yeah?"
Kirishima's guileless reply to Bakugou's rhetorical question elicits an entirely indecipherable garble of fury. "YOU CAN'T JUST USE THAT WORD FOR EVERY-FUCKING-THING, IDIOT! HELPING YOUR FRIENDS IS NOT GENDERED!"
Regrettably, Hitoshi finds himself agreeing with Bakugou. God help him.
The argument persists for a further 8 minutes and 31 seconds - yes, Hitoshi was counting - before the purple-haired boy finally snaps.
"Oh my god will you two shut up?"
"-Huh? Oh sorry, man, we-"
"HAHHHH!?-"
The familiar sensation of his quirk catching settles in Hitoshi's mind, and he tugs.
Blissful quiet.
The rest of 1-A are watching with slackened jaws, although Hitoshi is pretty sure there are some grateful expressions among the crowd too.
"Uh…Shinsou…?" Uraraka pipes up, visibly holding in her laughter. "…you do realise Bakugou is gonna kill you the moment you release him, right?"
Ah. Right.
"Both of you - forget this ridiculous argument even happened, and go and do your own thing." Hitoshi sighs, dropping Bakugou and Kirishima from Brainwashing's control.
The room seems to hold its collective breath.
Both boys blink a little sluggishly, glancing around in confusion, and meet each other's eyes.
Then Bakugou scoffs loudly, turns on his heel, and stomps away. Kirishima rubs the back of his neck, before sauntering over to the Switch to watch Sero and Kaminari play Mario Kart.
Hitoshi slumps back, throwing his elbow over the back of his chair and shooting Uraraka and the others a small smirk. "Good thing that worked, hey?"
"It's not a fucking soup."
"Why not? There are oats - that's a grain - like, stewed, in milk. There's cooking. It's hot. It's soup."
Hitoshi immediately regrets walking into the kitchen. Perhaps he doesn't need breakfast after all.
"No." Sero replies flatly. "Denki. No."
Kaminari shrugs, shoving another spoonful of porridge into his mouth. "Saying 'no' doesn't make me less correct, dude."
It has now been 17 days since Hitoshi joined Class 1-A. For such a tight-knit group of friends, they have so many of these objectively stupid arguments. And they approach each one with the same level of passion they do anything else.
Far too much.
"Milk is not a broth!" Sero retorts, throwing his hands in the air. Hitoshi gives him a wide berth as he makes his way to the toaster.
"There are actually a number of milk-based soups." Yaoyorozu pipes up, before immediately looking like she regrets involving herself when Denki starts crowing in celebration. Jirou snickers at her girlfriend's clear regret, patting her back sympathetically.
"Whatever!" Sero complains, slamming the fridge door shut with unnecessary force. "That still doesn't make porridge a soup! Shinsou, back me up."
Hitoshi keeps his attention firmly on the toast he's buttering. "Absolutely not."
Denki cackles loudly, throwing his head back. "Yes! Shinsou gets it. Porridge is soup!"
"I don't 'get' anything." Hitoshi deadpans. "Don't involve me in this."
Apparently, explicitly asking to be left alone is the wrong approach, because now Kaminari has dramatically draped himself over Hitoshi. It's rather difficult to butter toast with a teenage boy leaning heavily on your back. "Brooooo." Kaminari whines. "Aren't we friends? Back me up."
"Shinsou and I are friends too!" Sero argues. "Besides, that's like…manipulation. If anything it weakens your argument."
On the one hand, it's nice that Hitoshi's classmates consider him a friend already. Making friends is not exactly one of Hitoshi's strengths.
On the other hand, he doesn't give a fuck about whether or not porridge is a soup. He just wants to eat his toast.
Hitoshi should probably feel a little bad about what he's about to do. But he doesn't.
"You guys…you really see me as a friend?" He asks, his voice quiet and uncharacteristically uncertain.
"What? Shinsou, of course-"
"Bro, we are, like, tight-"
Both boys are abruptly cut off as Brainwashing is activated. Sero's arms drop to his sides. A string of drool escapes from the corner of Kaminari's open mouth.
"That was cold, dude." Jirou grins, reaching out to close Kaminari's mouth. "But justified."
Hitoshi allows himself a faint smirk, before addressing the pair. "Forget all about this discussion and eat your breakfasts."
Sero and Kaminari blink owlishly as they're released from Hitoshi's quirk. Kaminari, unperturbed, shovels another spoonful of porridge into his mouth.
Sero shoots Hitoshi a suspicious look. Hitoshi just raises an eyebrow, taking a bite of his toast, and eventually the taller boy shakes his head, and returns to his own breakfast.
"With great power, comes great responsibility." Jirou declares solemnly, and Hitoshi cracks a smile despite himself.
"What?" Denki pipes up guilelessly. "Man, I love Spiderman."
It becomes a bit of a habit.
Hitoshi just values his peace quite highly. And there isn't much peace to be found in the hero course to begin with, even before taking the bickering into account.
It's quirk control practice, he reasons. It's good for him. And it's good for his classmates, too. There are more beneficial ways for U.A. students to spend their time than having mundane arguments with one another.
So Hitoshi quietly sends Iida and Ashido their separate ways when the pair get riled up about whether or not the hero ranking system should take "hotness" into account. He breaks up Satou and Ojiro when the latter uses his tail to win an arm wrestle, a move which proves to be highly controversial. He even has to end a disagreement about appropriate thermostat temperature between a very upset Dark Shadow and a long-suffering Tokoyami.
Hitoshi finally realises things might be getting out of hand when he starts taking requests.
"I'm begging you." Uraraka implores, clutching at his arm. "Make it stop."
Hitoshi can sympathise. After all, Uraraka is - like him - trying to study for Mic-sensei's English quiz tomorrow. And the overlapping Japanese and French currently dominating the common room is making it pretty difficult to practise verb conjugation.
"There's no cohesion!" Hagakure squawks, turning her nose up at Aoyama's latest wardrobe change. "The only aspect any of your clothes have in common is that they're too much."
Aoyama gasps, mortally offended for probably the tenth time in as many minutes. "Too much?! Quelle audace!" He gestures wildly to his outfit. "It's maximalism, mon chérie."
Hagakure huffs, her arms folded resolutely. "I'm not your chérie and this isn't even a contest!" The pink sleeve of Hagakure's blouse flutters as she gestures to her face. "My clothing is all I've got to express myself. Fashion is everything to me! I'm not about to be shown up by- by Temu Edward Cullen!"
Aoyama's face goes an interesting shade of pink, and Hitoshi groans into his hands. Uraraka shakes his arm again, desperately.
"Temu Edwa- Edward Cullen wishes he sparkled as brightly as moi-"
"Don't you think I'm more stylish than both of you?" Hitoshi pipes up.
Well - that shuts them both up. Even if they don't reply immediately. Aoyama turns slowly to Hitoshi, giving him a once-over, and - ouch. That look was certainly not one of approval. Hitoshi can't see Hagakure's face, obviously, but he imagines she's wearing a similar expression.
"Um, you…you are joking, r-"
"….ahhh, mon petit-"
Brainwashing takes hold, and Uraraka groans in relief, releasing Hitoshi's arm and sprawling facedown across the table. "Thank God, I couldn't put up with one more second of that. Shinsou, you are my favourite classmate. Ever."
Hitoshi snorts faintly, rolling his eyes, before addressing the brainwashed pair in a regrettably familiar fashion. "Both of you, forget this argument ever happened, and go and do your own thing."
Uraraka sighs happily as the pair retreat to opposite corners of the common room, turning back to her English textbook.
Around one minute later, her momentary happiness has disappeared.
"Uh…Shinsou? Can you brainwash me into understanding grammar?"
A month after his transfer to Class 1-A, Hitoshi feels like he fits in.
Despite his reserved personality, despite the fact that he's pretty difficult to win over, and even despite the fact that he wasn't here to make friends…well, Hitoshi has made friends.
Brainwashing was always something that alienated him from his peers. It was something scary, too much power, a "villain's quirk".
But Midoriya finds it fascinating; he's constantly coming to Hitoshi with fresh analysis, new applications, and bright-eyed wonder. His classmates actually celebrate when he's on their team in heroics training - punching the air, and high-fiving him, sure that they're going to win. And even stoic Iida agrees that Hitoshi's unofficial "Class Negotiator" role has brought about some much needed calm.
The muted sound of bickering breaks through Hitoshi's musing, and he shakes his head in amusement, pausing on his way to class.
"What are you two arguing about?" He pipes up, a slight curve to his mouth.
"Huh? Shin-"
"…reall-"
Hitoshi seizes control with Brainwashing, rolling his eyes. He makes it exactly three steps down the corridor before freezing in place.
He did that entirely on autopilot.
The arguing was coming from inside the teacher's lounge.
The voices he heard were Aizawa and Mic.
He just used his quirk on Aizawa-sensei.
Hitoshi releases control immediately, and retreats three (very hesitant) steps, peering inside the teacher's lounge to find both men blinking slowly.
Mic snaps out of it first, slapping his leg with a raucous laugh. "Kid, that was weird!"
Aizawa's eyes, still slightly vacant, find Hitoshi's. When he speaks, his voice is low and distinctly icy. "Someone wasn't listening to my lecture last week on authorized quirk use."
Hitoshi flees the scene.