"Midoriya isn't moving a muscle!" Present Mic announced from the booth, surprise baked deeply into his tone. Beyond the confines of the room, the crowd's constant energy faded into a shocked silence. "And what's with that look on his face? It's so empty! Could this be a Quirk at work? Shinso Hitoshi seems to have Midoriya Izuku completely stunned! He didn't stand out during the first rounds at all, but it's possible that this Shinso's actually crazy powerful! Who could have imagined this turn of events? But that's just the Sports Festival for ya, am I right folks?!"
Present Mic let out an excited laugh at the upset, clearly reveling in the marketable potential this round of the tournament could sell.
For all the innumerable complaints he held at bay whenever he was around his long-time friend during his more energetic moments, Aizawa had to admit U.A. had made the most logical decision in choosing Mic as the festival's main announcer.
Even if the event itself repeatedly thwarted any attempts he made at resting his eyes.
More related to the task at hand, however, Aizawa noticed once again that his earlier observations about one of the fighters below were true – that Shinso was someone he needed to pay close attention to. He'd noticed him during the first round of the festival, and he saw a level of wit and cleverness behind Shinso's use of his Quirk that even Present Mic hadn't noticed despite his dedication to hyping up everyone he could in the festival.
Aizawa saw beyond his unassuming appearance though, and so he paid attention to Shinso where Present Mic merely overlooked him entirely. Although he couldn't recall much about his Quirk out of the dozens of participants' powers he had to read up on, he saw potential in Shinso, and the boy had piqued his curiosity more in the first event than even some of his own kids in Class 1-A had. He knew of his students' Quirks, and so not many of them had surprised him with their strategies during the obstacle race.
Shinso was an unknown though, and Aizawa had found himself thoroughly entranced by his performance during the first stage alone. And so, if for no other reason than a fleeting and utterly illogical feeling in his gut, Aizawa knew this kid deserved his undivided attention.
Shinso had continued to earn that attention during the second stage as well. For someone he would've thought would be keener to take upon a leadership position in any team he ended up with, his submitting himself to the role of the front horse on Team Takara had been a surprising one. Despite this, as the second stage wore on and Team Takara's strategy became clear, it became obvious that this choice was driven by logic, as was his role as his allies' ace in the hole when time started running out.
The first stage had proven Shinso had a keen intellect and a strategic mind.
The second stage had proven his tenacity and willingness to set aside his own ego when necessary to achieve victory.
The third and final stage would be a test of the combination of these traits, as well as his combat instinct if push came to shove and the fight devolved into a battle of brawn instead of brains.
Currently, his match against Midoriya was one of the latter, which led Aizawa to assume that Shinso held the advantage. This assumption was proven correct when Shinso had activated his Quirk on Midoriya, but it also confirmed for the umpteenth time something he knew was indeed an undeniable, fundamental flaw in Japan's most prestigious hero academy.
"This is a perfect example of why the entrance exam isn't rational," he grumbled, not taking his eyes off of the combatants below.
Present Mic took his finger off the announcement key and looked over at him with earnest confusion on his face. "Huh? Why's that?"
"Well, since we're on to the individual matches, I had some information compiled about our final competitors." Aizawa held up two papers in one of his bandaged hands. "As you may recall, Midoriya passed the practical exam with flying colors due to throwing himself into danger to save one of his fellow applicants, later identified as Uraraka, who also made it through due to her preventing him from being harmed shortly thereafter. Unlike her, though, Shinso failed the practical exam and only emerged unscathed from the situation because of Takara's timely intervention, since she happened to be in the same battle center at the time. As a result, he was given no other choice but to default into general studies. Otherwise, he wouldn't have qualified to be admitted to U.A. whatsoever."
He narrowed his eyes at the pages, as if the inanimate paper had wronged him by its statement of the objective truths concerning the events long since passed. "But his Quirk is incredibly strong, you said it yourself. Despite this power, though, that entrance test consisted of fighting faux villains. Robots. It gave a huge advantage to those who had physical superpowers they could show off, leaving those without abilities capable of immobilizing or otherwise damaging their inanimate opponents at a complete loss by default. Shinso has displayed a great deal of skill throughout the festival so far, but back there…"
His grip on the papers tightened, and the paper crinkled in his hands. Present Mic's shoulders slouched, and his features softened alongside his normally high-strung voice.
"Shota…" he said softly.
Aizawa felt his shoulders tense. "Back there… Shinso never stood a chance at passing."
And in a society now built upon the extraordinary and the desire to succeed, Aizawa couldn't think of a greater injustice than being victimized by institutional irrationality.
"So here we are," Hitoshi said plainly as he looked into the empty eyes of his Quirk's latest victim. "You're lucky to have been so blessed, Midoriya Izuku. You made it into the hero course. You made it this far in the festival. But I'm afraid this is going to be as far as you get."
Midoriya's stunned eyes stared back and he paused. He debated for the briefest instant if regret over his opponent's imminent defeat was something he could even consider feeling, but he quickly eschewed that notion. Midoriya had the help of that monkey in Class 1-A, and even the dumbest bastard on earth would be able to tell that one needed to be cautious around someone like Hitoshi, regardless of whether they had figured out the intricacies of his Quirk or not.
Yet Midoriya had disregarded that caution with only the simplest nudge of an insult.
That knowledge made his next words that much easier to say.
His reserved expression didn't budge as he spoke. "Now turn around and walk out of bounds like a good little hero."
The command flowed through the air like a breeze, and Midoriya's breath stopped for a moment as it apparently registered with his brainwashed mind. There was no doubt that Midoriya's conscious mind would have heard it too, but any autonomy he held over his body had been handed to Hitoshi the moment he was provoked. He'd be able to do nothing but watch what came next from within his own head.
Midoriya turned around and started wandering towards the edge of the ring, exactly as instructed.
"Eh… WHAT!?" Present Mic gasped. "Midoriya is obeying him!"
Out of the corner of his eye, Hitoshi picked up on a rumble of activity in the Class 1-A stands in the distance. Some of Midoriya's presumed compatriots stood in surprise, Ojiro's distinct silhouette bristled with clear unease and frustration, and most everyone else had the same kind of dumb shock on their faces that Hitoshi had long since become familiar with. It almost struck him as pathetic that none of them could fathom their comrade falling victim so easily.
Let alone one from the failures' course.
He noticed Akiko and Nishimura last, and they remained relatively at ease, though Hitoshi was sure that in some ways they'd be the ones who were watching him more intently than anyone else in the arena. Them seeing him use his Quirk against Honenuki of 1-B in the chaotic cavalry battle was one thing; seeing him use it in a one-on-one scenario was another matter entirely.
If anyone at U.A. would understand his blunt efficiency though, it would be them. They were the only two people worth a damn to him that didn't see his Quirk's present use in the same light nearly everyone else in Japan had all his life.
He noticed Present Mic regain his confident vigor in the background. As the announcer started going on about how his Quirk wasn't that flashy but tried to hype him up in that hollow way only a fame-hungry pro could, Hitoshi tuned him out. He wouldn't waste his energy paying attention to the words of someone who had downright disregarded him before the final stage started up.
Hitoshi flicked his attention back to his opponent.
Midoriya was brainwashed, sure, but that didn't mean Hitoshi could afford not to pay attention to him. He was essentially neutralized, but he was still part of the hero course, and it seemed only fitting that a hero-in-training like him would at least try to pull off some desperate stunt to escape the mental snare Hitoshi had put him in. The likelihood of such a plan's success didn't matter, though; not as much as what it would mean if such a gambit did pay off.
Hitoshi harbored no delusions about his strength. He was dedicated to getting into the hero course, but he never saw the need to put himself through the hellish physical training aspiring heroes did to get stronger. With his Quirk, he'd never thought he would ever have a need, but Midoriya was a different story. He had probably put himself through such a regimen and continued it in his hero training, and Hitoshi wasn't about to underestimate what strength Midoriya may have been hiding underneath his plain appearance.
Not that it would matter, of course.
Before any of this brawn he'd built up could come into play, Midoriya would have to break himself out of his brainwashing. The stilted steps Midoriya's puppeteered body took forward were slow, sure, but there had never been a time where someone had broken themselves out of Brainwashing of their own accord. To do so would require either a large stimulus or Hitoshi's command, and he was sure Midoriya wouldn't be provided with either.
Despite most assuredly being warned by Ojiro about his Quirk… Midoriya had still lost it all with a single response. It almost made Hitoshi feel pity for the fool.
Almost.
He watched with unbridled apathy as Midoriya took another step towards his defeat.
In the stands, despite Jomei's attention being firmly on the match below as Midoriya took his first step towards the edge of the ring, he found himself well aware of what was transpiring in 1-A's viewing booth.
"Grrrah!" Ojiro growled, leaping to his feet and clamping his hands around the back of his tense neck. "I warned him not to say anything! Come on Midoriya, what did I stop you from talking to that guy for?! I tell you everything went blank when I talked to him and you fell for his tricks anyway!? Come on!"
"Uh, Ojiro?" Hagakure asked, presumably looking up at him with wide, invisible eyes. "Are you okay? Where's all this coming from?"
His tail swirled around him in random, tense patterns as he tore his eyes away from the match below. "Where is all this coming from? That guy down there, Shinso, did something to me before the cavalry battle and I can't even remember what happened after until he was long gone! I stopped Midoriya from talking to him to warn him about what happened to me! Midoriya promised he'd try his best to get back at that creep for whatever he did, but now this happened…!"
Ojiro let out another groan of frustration and Uraraka nervously tapped her knuckles together as Midoriya took another step. "Oh no, Deku, what're you doing!? Snap out of it!"
Iida flailed his arms around wildly. "He can't just walk out of the ring! He'll lose the match if he does!"
Aoyama paled and held his stomach as his thoughts came out in an uneasy whisper. "Such an unpleasant feeling… I can only hope you're released from your mental cage soon, Midoriya."
Out of all the reactions Class 1-A had, though, one of them stood out above the rest.
In his periphery, Jomei saw a complete lack of motion coming from Bakugo. He was one row higher than him and Akiko, a wide margin away from the rest of the class, and on the second-highest row of 1-A's reserved booth. Kirishima was with him, but it was Bakugo's expression that really caught Jomei's eye – or rather, the complete lack thereof. Instead of looking mad or smug or even the slightest bit satisfied at Midoriya's predicament, Bakugo appeared calm, almost solemn in how neutral his features were as he watched the match below.
It was almost unsettling, but then Jomei's encounter with Midoriya after the battle trials came to mind. More specifically, something Midoriya had said came to mind.
"We were friends."
At the time, Jomei hadn't put that much stock in the statement. Perhaps Midoriya had seen Bakugo as a friend, but to Jomei, it had been clear that the inverse didn't hold up for Bakugo's perception of him in turn. If it were, he wouldn't have downright brutalized his once-friend back then without showing even a hint of regret in his actions.
But now, seeing how Bakugo looked when Midoriya's chance at making it to the next match was being so suddenly threatened…
Seeing Bakugo act somewhat human made Jomei wonder where all Bakugo's animosity towards Midoriya came from.
But there wasn't time to consider that right now, and more importantly for his mental sanity, Jomei didn't have the time nor inclination to investigate. He'd promised himself to let Bakugo be so long as he wasn't an overt bully. Class 1-A had rapidly caught on to his true nature and elected to give him a wide berth whenever possible, and Jomei wasn't about to disrupt all that only to give himself another headache. Midoriya and Bakugo could settle their differences in their own way or let them simmer for all eternity.
Thankfully, movement demanded his attention elsewhere.
Uraraka ran down the booth's stairs and threw herself against the railing, her hands cupped around her mouth to amplify the desperate plea she aimed straight at Midoriya.
It was as Midoriya neared the edge of the ring that Hitoshi finally spoke up again.
"Even with a Quirk like this," he intoned, "I have my own dreams of becoming a hero, and I won't let anyone stand in the way of that. So, Midoriya… lose for me."
With Midoriya's second step out of the arena, Hitoshi's ear twitched in the direction of 1-A's booth as a feminine voice shouted out into the arena. "Come on, Deku! You can do it! We believe in you! I believe in you – so don't you give up all because of some stupid Quirk! Snap out of it and win this thing!"
Despite the din of rumbling unease that had permeated the stadium since the moment he used his Quirk, Hitoshi heard the girl's words loud and clear. Craning his neck, he saw her face twisted in tense anticipation. Hitoshi's expression didn't budge, though his shoulders did drop a hair at the sheer emotion behind her cry.
He then returned his gaze to focus on Midoriya once again. No matter how desperately that girl may have wanted her classmate to win this fight, her words alone wouldn't be enough to break Midoriya out of his brainwashing. Her hope would be in vain.
But as Midoriya started his final step, an almost imperceptible twitch of his fingers caused Hitoshi's heart to skip a beat. Two fingers on his opponent's left hand curled and tensed, bringing Hitoshi to unnervingly stiff attention.
'Is he…?'
It was like a bomb.
In less than a second after Midoriya's fingers had moved of their own accord, they suddenly pointed down and ejected a force that boomed like thunder through the arena. Winds gusted with the unrelenting force of a typhoon, forcing Midnight, Hitoshi, and some of the closer spectators to desperately shield themselves from the debris the onslaught picked up in its maw.
As the storm raged around them, Hitoshi lifted his head. Midoriya was hunched over at the very edge of the fighting stage, chest heaving, cold sweat beading on his brow, and his hair casting a shadow over his eyes. His fingers were purple, bruised and broken, but before Hitoshi was an undeniable truth.
Midoriya had escaped his brainwashing.
Dread sank into Hitoshi's gut, and his stomach twisted into knots.
'How'd he…'
The girl. She had to have done it. There was no other explanation – her words, her desperate cry must have reached Midoriya's conscious mind so deeply and powerfully that he'd managed to act on his own and jerk himself out of the grasp of his brainwashing. It was the only possibility Hitoshi could comprehend being the reason behind the upset, and it made him furious.
When he caught his breath, Midoriya glared menacingly over his shoulder, his arm entirely limp at his side.
In his indignation, Hitoshi tried to disregard it. "No… that shouldn't be possible!"
'Fine, so it is! He's still the same gullible kid as before, so go ahead and try again!'
"You shouldn't have been able to fight back!" He shouted. "What did you do!?"
Suddenly, Midoriya clamped a hand over his mouth to stop his response, though he made no other movements yet. It made the sudden fire boiling in Hitoshi's gut boil even hotter.
'Don't you ignore me, damnit!'
"HOW!?" Hitoshi yelled, his voice cracking as his voice exploded from his throat. "How'd you do it!? How'd you break out of my Quirk when I had you dead to rights!? Tell me!"
The silence he received was damning.
'He won't answer… so did he figure it out? No… he has known, though, ever since that monkey in 1-A must have told him! But… I have to get him to talk again.'
Hitoshi gritted his teeth and reeled his composure back in. Exuding tension and stress all because of one unexpected event wasn't what a hero did, even an aspiring one, and it certainly wouldn't raise his chances of getting Midoriya to talk again.
So it was back to square one, then – basic provocation.
"Come on… say something," he taunted.
Midoriya cradled his bad arm at his side and tensed, but his mouth remained shut.
Hitoshi's confident mask cracked, with a bead of sweat forming on his temple. His heart's pace hastened, and he opted to switch strategies. Taunting and insults wouldn't work, but… maybe flattery would get through to him.
It was a long shot, but he had to try.
"I didn't know you had so much power in your fingers!" He complimented, one hand on his chest as the other extended toward Midoriya. "I'm kind of jealous of you!"
Silence reigned, and Midoriya started an advance towards him.
"Thanks to the way my Quirk works, I've always been at a big disadvantage," he continued, his voice wavering, "but someone as blessed as you couldn't even come close to understanding what that feels like!"
Midoriya continued to pick up speed, his acceleration matching the same pounding of his heart that Hitoshi felt hitch in his throat with each step his opponent took. He was getting desperate. Something, anything had to work, right? This would be his last chance before the gap closed.
Guilt trip, then.
"You're so lucky to have such a heroic Quirk!" He shouted angrily, his entire body shaking with the force of his voice. "It'll be so easy for you to reach your goal!"
His opponent grimaced as he closed the final few meters, and for a moment Hitoshi thought that he saw something behind Midoriya's eyes.
Sympathy.
But no. Someone like Midoriya couldn't understand what the life of someone who'd been born with a power like Hitoshi's would've been like.
Midoriya hit him square in the chest with both of his forearms and started pushing him back with minimal effort. There wasn't time to think anymore about what he should say, even if Hitoshi wasn't on the verge of panic at how little he could do without his Quirk.
"Say something, damn it!"
He threw a clean punch right at Midoriya's face, and blood flew from his nostrils when the hit connected. Midoriya paused for only a second, and he earned a grip on the jacket of Hitoshi's sports uniform with his good hand before continuing to push him back.
'No… no! This can't be it! It can't!'
He looked behind him, and his breathing intensified when he saw how close he was to the edge.
But Present Mic had told them not to be afraid to play dirty. So he'd play dirty.
"You've got to be kidding me! Fine, you don't want to talk!?"
The next punch landed directly into Midoriya's broken fingers, and Hitoshi refused to feel even an iota of regret as his opponent's agonized screams pierced sharply through the arena and caused him to release his grip.
Anything to win.
Anything for his dream.
He whirled around as Midoriya hunched over in pain, his face warped in fury. As he got behind him, Hitoshi didn't waste a second, smashing his hands into Midoriya's face and chest to push him the rest of the way out. "Get out of this ring, you lucky bastard!"
Then the unthinkable happened again.
In the final meter, Midoriya used his hands – both of them – and grabbed onto Hitoshi's arm and collar. With an impassioned roar loud enough to deafen Hitoshi and drown out the spectators both, his grip turned into a vice as his muscles tensed. Hitoshi felt his blood run cold as he realized he could do nothing to stop what came next.
Midoriya mercilessly flipped him over his shoulder like a sledgehammer, and all the air in Hitoshi's lungs escaped him as his spine was brutally slammed into the concrete.
In his vision, amidst a sea of darkness, all he could see were stars.
In his ears, there remained only silence.
He would've almost preferred that the crowd had cheered. At least then he wouldn't have had to hear what came next.
"Shinso is out of bounds!" Midnight declared. "Midoriya advances to the next match!"
And then the spectators' excitement returned. To Midoriya, their adoring cries may have sounded like triumphant cheers. Congratulations and verbal accolades that validated his heroism in the face of adversity. The beginning of his heroic story in the eyes of the whole of Japan.
To Hitoshi though, it sounded like unbridled, unrelenting laughter. Mockery all aimed at him.
The one who failed.
Again.
He shut his eyes in an attempt to let it all simply fade away.
Hitoshi's mind wandered back three years ago, at Nabooh City Middle School. An incredibly simpler time in his life, albeit no less difficult than the dilemmas that vehemently opposed him in the modern-day.
He stared out the window from his desk through another pair of seated, conversing students in his homeroom class. The cherry blossom trees outside were in full bloom and their pink petals fell and drifted delicately in the breeze. It was calming, almost cathartic, and for a moment Hitoshi let himself forget all of his worries.
But it would seem that peace could only last for a moment.
One of his peers approached him, and Hitoshi looked up. "Hey, Shinso! I just heard that your Quirk is brainwashing – that's so cool!"
Another boy, spindly and slouching even as he stood, joined him. "Seriously! I can't think of anyone who's had that kind of power before!"
A portly girl with fat lips and gaudy hair joined them, her nasally voice arriving there long before her body followed. "I'm so jealous, Shinso…"
"Dude, imagine all the cool stuff you could do controlling people!" the first boy continued, arms crossed in front of him.
The second suddenly clenched his fists, a lecherous look crossing his face as he followed his peer's line of reasoning. "Yeah, you could do any bad thing you want!"
"And no one would ever know it was you," the girl added with a blush. "Just promise you won't make us your slaves, okay?"
Hitoshi rubbed the back of his neck as he tried, and failed, to put on a smile to join their enthusiasm. "Heh… everyone always says that…"
Of course, had he never been born with the power he possessed, Hitoshi would've thought that anyone with his Quirk would use it for evil, too. He wasn't a saint, and he never pretended to be one either. He could judge others based on superficial aspects of their personalities or what they looked like or what their Quirks were the same as anyone else, but he'd come to understand all too well what everyone thought when they learned of what his power let him do.
"Sounds criminal, Shinso. The perfect Quirk for a villain to have…"
No matter how hard he tried to deny it, Hitoshi couldn't find it in him to deny such a claim. Had he been in any of their shoes, he'd be right there with them in that observation, but as it stood, that wasn't the case.
He was the one who had been born with Brainwashing as his Quirk.
He was the one who'd always be judged more harshly than others by default.
He was the one that everyone always avoided.
People would always look at him in awe or disgust when they thought he wasn't looking. No matter what school he went to, rumor would spread, or a class assignment about analyzing one's own Quirk would come up, and any success he may have found at keeping Brainwashing a secret would crumble. After that, without fail, those around him would spread the knowledge of his Quirk around like wildfire and he'd be left to deal with the consequences.
Many would whisper insults beneath their breath. They'd mark him as a waste and an individual destined to become a villain by merit of his Quirk alone. Or, if they were feeling generous, they'd decide to see him as merely a danger, a risk to everyone else in the school, no matter what the faculty or teachers would say to defend him.
That wasn't all, though.
Girls were the most venomous, be it by their whispered verbal remarks or their more overt physical actions taken against him. The subtle glares some of them would send him during free periods in the halls or the downright insulting lengths they'd go through to avoid being near him without arousing suspicion made it abundantly clear how little they thought of him; of how little they trusted him.
Boys didn't help with that perception, either. Their lecherous and dumb remarks about what his Quirk could let him do only reminded his female peers of the danger he posed to them, should he use his power on them. Such comments widened the divide between him and everyone else in his classes, with the rumors of the perverted potential that Hitoshi's Quirk possessed only succeeding in isolating him further from any attempts at seeking companionship.
All of it combined, and it was no wonder that Hitoshi found the idea of salvation from his inescapable depression and loneliness ludicrous. His entire life he'd been looked at like he was the bad guy, like a bomb ready to explode and ruin everyone's day for no other reason than the fact he'd been born with a power 'unsuitable' to be a hero's.
And the worst part?
He was used to it. He was used to people looking at him that way, even as the cruelty continued to eat away at his heart. Hitoshi looked back at the three students, fierce determination and hidden heartbreak in his tear-filled eyes. The trio of his peers stepped back slightly in surprise.
"Uh, Shinso-?"
"You know what?" Hitoshi said shakily, but he paused to reinforce his voice with resolve. "I'm not a villain. I'm going to be a hero."
He opened his eyes suddenly, the pain in his back far outweighed by the unexpected clamminess he felt on his skin. Evidently, he broke out into a cold sweat in the middle of his brief escape from reality, but the sensation did little to cool the fury and embarrassment he felt now that he was fully conscious again. Now that he could once again bask in how completely and utterly rigged against him the world was on account of nothing but his Quirk.
Joy.
"And with that expertly performed throw, we have our first victor of the finals – Class 1-A's Midoriya Izuku!" Present Mic cheered.
Hitoshi didn't even spare a glance in his direction as he stood. He had nothing to say to him. Midoriya was the one who already had it all – he was in the hero course, had a flashy, heroic Quirk, and a little harem of followers rooting for him from the sidelines to boot. Yet he still managed to take away one of the only chances Hitoshi would ever have at making his dream of becoming a hero come true.
The entire time they walked back to the center of the arena, the spectators were screaming, but the two fighters were as silent as the grave. Given how pathetically heroic Midoriya seemed to be at a glance, Hitoshi wouldn't have preferred it any other way.
Present Mic's voice returned to further grate on his nerves after they got into position.
"Yeah! That was actually kind of a boring first match, kids, but both of you fought bravely! Let's show them some love, everyone!"
Applause followed the announcer's command, but Hitoshi kept his eyes locked firmly on the ground. He didn't even want to look at Midoriya right now.
Still, his periphery betrayed him, and he saw Midoriya wipe his bloody nose with his uninjured hand before he looked straight at him. "Why do you want to be a hero…? What's driving you?"
Hitoshi briefly considered telling Midoriya to mind his own business, but instead ended up turning around so that the hurt hidden behind his eyes wouldn't show. It was then that he spoke, his tone defeated yet still firm. "You can't help the things your heart longs for, Midoriya. You were born with everything you needed to be a hero. I wasn't fortunate enough to be blessed like you were."
He then walked away before he could say anything else. Each step he took from the fighting stage down to the field was another short descent taking him deeper into the shadow of people with infinitely more heroic Quirks than his. Somehow he knew that this time, once he crossed the threshold back into the tunnel, his goals of becoming a hero would be more aptly pronounced dead than alive.
The tunnel loomed ever larger with each moment, and he realized he was a fool for thinking he had ever stood a chance of making it.
Nothing would ever change, no matter how hard he tried.
Fate had made that abundantly clear to him today.
"You were awesome out there, Shinso!"
He froze. Looking up, he saw five of his classmates on the bottom row of the stands eagerly trying to get his attention. All of them were smiling, and for once, he didn't know what to think.
'Did they run all the way around the arena… for me?'
"We're proud of you!" A girl with caramel-colored hair waved eagerly.
"You didn't tell us you were that good!"
A third boy popped up from behind the second, hanging himself over the rails to get a better look at him. "Yeah, you're the star of our program!"
"I can't believe you put up such a good fight!" one last boy added excitedly. "That guy was in first place earlier and you still gave him a run for his money!"
The first boy pointed his thumb back over his shoulder, back to where the Pro Heroes' stands were located. "And if you don't believe us, listen to them!"
"With a Quirk like his…" A lizard-looking pro with a skull helmet hummed. "It could easily be used to capture dangerous villains! Hmm… wish I had it."
Another pro with an orange bandana atop her seafoam green hair grunted emphatically. "Right? I can't believe U.A. stuck someone like him in general studies. Ugh, those idiots…"
The high-tech helmet-wearing pro behind her crossed his arms. "Well, there are tons of applicants each year, to U.A. in particular for obvious reasons. I guess it's inevitable that some of them end up slipping through the cracks."
"If only he'd had just a little more combat experience," the lizard pro said, "he would've easily dominated this fight, no doubt about it. What a waste…"
"Hey Shinso, you hear that?" the boy continued. "You did great! Even the pros think so!"
The girl next to him threw a fist in the air. "So don't feel down in the dumps! We know you gave it everything you got, and so do the pros! You're awesome, and everyone knows it now!"
Hitoshi gazed silently at his classmates. This… this wasn't like them. Or was it? What did he really know about how his peers were evolving beyond the most basic level? Of how they acted when one of their own was in distress?
As it turned out, shockingly little.
Somehow, that made their words mean even more to him than anyone's, aside from Akiko and Nishimura's, ever did. Out of the corner of his eye, amidst the brief pause reality seemed to embrace in light of recent events, he watched a cherry blossom petal flutter down from above fall to his left.
And with it, Hitoshi felt an unprecedented moment of peace and clarity.
"Depending on the results…" he started determinedly. He wasn't looking back at Midoriya, but he knew his foe was listening intently when he spoke again. "They might transfer people into the hero course. Remember that, Midoriya. Even if things didn't work out this time, I'm not giving up. I'm getting onto the hero track, getting certified. And then… I'll become a better pro than any of you."
With that, Hitoshi finally looked back at him. "Got that?"
Midoriya sniffled, and nodded. "R-right!"
Another mental flick and he was brainwashed again.
Hitoshi grinned. "Heh. Usually, people tense up whenever they talk to me. If you're not on guard, someone's going to defeat you. So be careful."
He released Midoriya from his Quirk, and color returned to his eyes.
"You better not lose and make me look bad," Hitoshi commanded.
Midoriya's expression hardened after a moment of contemplation. "I won't!"
Brainwashing triggered one more time.
'He really doesn't learn, does he?'
As Hitoshi walked idly through the dim tunnels leading to the greater hallways of the stadium, he remained surprisingly content. Even though he had lost his first match in the final stage, and he was basically headed right back into the course no one had originally wanted to be in, he didn't feel much negative emotion at all. Granted, he wasn't particularly energized either, since this was one of the whopping total of the three chances he'd ever get to try and get transferred into the hero course, but he knew what he said back there to Midoriya was true.
He'd make it true, no matter what.
Stuffing his hands in his pockets and sauntering lazily through the tunnels, he wondered about the rest of Midoriya's peers. He already knew Akiko and Nishimura much better than he knew Midoriya, of course, but that didn't take into account all the other members of Class 1-A that he hadn't bothered to remember the names of. In light of his revelation about how little he knew about his own classmates, he wondered if his assumption of 1-A consisting of nothing more than egomaniacs was wrong, too. The three people from that hero course class he had interacted with at length were friendly, if a bit gullible in Midoriya's case, and the only exception to that rule was Ojiro, and admittedly, he actually had a good reason to be wary of Hitoshi. His initial impression would undoubtedly hold true for some of them, but still, the idea that he was wrong was comforting to him.
Two pairs of footsteps alerted him to the presence of others nearby, and by their haste, it didn't take him long to guess who they might belong to. He stopped and twisted around to confirm his suspicion.
"Hitoshi!" Akiko called out breathlessly before skidding to a halt. Nishimura was trailing behind her, but it was clear that he hadn't been moving with nearly as much urgency as his companion. "We came here as soon as we could after we saw what happened, and…"
"Breathe, Akiko," Hitoshi deadpanned. "I'm not going to catch you if you keel over. I wasn't planning to disappear anytime soon."
Akiko nodded, and Nishimura caught up to her. "Yeah, I kind of figured you wouldn't be headed anywhere in a hurry. Still, I think we both thought that you wouldn't look so… calm, after what happened back there."
"Yeah," Akiko agreed, now having caught her breath. "We both know how much you wanted to win for a better chance of getting transferred into the hero course, so I guess what we're trying to say is… are you okay?"
"I think that from first impressions alone it should be abundantly clear that I'm not the type to throw a tantrum when things don't go my way, but to answer your question?" Hitoshi shrugged. "I'm about as fine as I can be. You put your heart on the line and sometimes you get hurt. That's the way the world works, sometimes. I know that better than anyone."
"You still did awesome though, Shinso," Nishimura complimented. "No matter what the outcome of the match was, you really don't have a clue how impressive what you managed to do was, especially against Midoriya."
"One of my classmates said something like that," Hitoshi said wistfully.
"And it's true!" Akiko stressed. "Midoriya's Quirk is super strong, and we don't even know everything it can do yet since he's still working on controlling it! Even without it mastered he managed to beat Bakugo in one of All Might's battle trials, and he's pretty much the best all-out fighter in Class 1-A!"
"Is Bakugo the red-eyed kid I stared down when I declared war on 1-A?"
Akiko nodded.
"Huh," Hitoshi half-chuckled. "How about that. Guess Midoriya's got more going for him than I thought. It'd certainly be easy to miss that over all that spirit and heroic nature he has in him."
"Right," Nishimura agreed. "So never give up, Shinso. If you faced literally anyone else just now, you would've beat them easy, no doubt about it."
Hitoshi made a noncommittal noise. "I didn't plan on giving up, Nishimura. Besides, did it look like I was giving up back there? Before I left the arena?"
"You did look kind of serious when you were talking to Midoriya…"
"Exactly." He looked determinedly at both of them in the eyes. "So believe me when I say that I'm far from finished. Because of my Quirk, I've always had to fight harder than anyone for anything that I want to get out of life, and this one loss isn't any different. All this is to me is another setback I'm going to have to overcome to become the hero I know I can be. And I will – that's a promise."
Akiko grinned. "You know I believe in you, Hitoshi. I believed in you back when you showed yourself to 1-A before the festival, and I didn't even know half as much about you then as I do now. I don't know how long it'll take for you to make your dream come true, but I know it's going to happen some way or another."
"Definitely." Nishimura nodded, a smirk curving one side of his lips. "You've got a crazy powerful Quirk and the brains to back it up, so I believe you'll get into the hero course too, one way or the other."
"Then… thanks. Both of you. I don't know what I did to stumble into you guys, but I appreciate the support, even if this is still something I have to do on my own." He turned around, his head held higher and his posture straighter than it had been before their arrival. "Just so you guys know though, I'm going to be focusing on what I need to do, but I'll still be around moving forward, whenever I get the chance."
"You'd better," Akiko noted.
"You think?" Nishimura added jokingly.
There was a pause where Hitoshi assumed Akiko glared at her partner. "But seriously, I know there's a lot you'll still have to do, Hitoshi. If you can't keep in touch as much, it's fine, but… remember that we'll always be here for you if you need someone to talk to. Both of us."
"I know. Thanks for that, too." He took one step forward before stopping himself. He smirked and looked at the pair over his shoulder before he continued. "And by the way? You two better give it that 'plus ultra' that U.A.'s always mentioned in your matches. I may have lost mine, but I expect better from my friends. Don't let anyone think either of you are weak, because I know for a fact that you're both really strong on your own. You got that?"
His friends looked at each other.
"Already planned on it, Shinso!" Nishimura grinned.
"I will!" Akiko said. "I promise!"
"Good," Hitoshi applauded. "And… goodbye, for now."
Once more, he started walking away. Shortly after, he overheard his friends making their way back the way they came. Evidently, a match between two of their peers – Uraraka and Aoyama – was designated as the second match of the final stage, and they didn't want to miss out on the fight. Seeing as he himself had quite literally no investment in either of the fighters mentioned, though, Hitoshi let himself continue to saunter lazily through the tunnels, and soon, out of the stadium. After a lifetime of being socially ostracized, even after being reinvigorated by his peers and friends' encouraging words, spending his time alone to process everything set him more at ease than being surrounded by others.
In the absence of anyone else, he let himself wander without any particular destination in mind. After he turned a corner though, the peace he felt was suddenly jerked away as he was forced to stop before he hit someone he hadn't seen coming.
And not just any someone, either.
That someone was taller, older, and stronger than him, even while recovering.
The Erasure Hero: Eraserhead.
"Uh…" Hitoshi started uncertainly as their eyes met. Whatever the hell he was supposed to say when he stumbled into an encounter with a pro was lost on him, and for that matter… "What're you doing around here, Eraserhead… sir? I was under the impression you were supposed to be busy announcing with that Present Mic guy."
"I could ask you the same thing," Eraserhead said. "Last time I checked, the general studies Class 1-C's reserved seating area is on the exact opposite side of the stadium from where we are, right now."
Hitoshi cringed. He didn't know what Eraserhead was up to, but he knew that he wanted no part of it if it meant he'd be getting in trouble due to taking some time to himself. "Sorry. In that case I'll, uh, I'll get going back to my classmates right away."
Eraserhead's voice stopped him the moment he passed by the pro. "I was looking for you, just now. I decided not to interrupt your conversation with Takara and Nishimura when I heard you guys speaking, but your conversation did confirm something I've been suspecting since the second stage."
Hitoshi turned to face him again and felt his shoulders tense with unease.
"And that would be…?"
"That it wasn't mere chance that you ended up working with Takara. Since you sought her out so quickly, I figured there might've been a connection between you two after all. Judging by how you were talking to her, I'd even go so far as to assume that the connection you share runs deeper than being mere passing acquaintances." Something changed in Eraserhead's expression that Hitoshi couldn't quite place beneath all the bandages, though his voice remained neutral. "I didn't expect someone from general studies to be associated with one of my students."
"Is that a problem, sir?" Hitoshi said uneasily.
"Not at all."
This time, Hitoshi let his confusion appear on his face, and his shoulders dropped. By the sound of things, it seemed as though he wasn't about to be in any trouble, but that still didn't explain anything about why Eraserhead was here. He didn't know much about the pro aside from the basics, that he could erase Quirks and preferred to operate at night, so there was a better chance of winning the lottery than guessing what motivated the hero to intercept Hitoshi here. Luckily, there wasn't a long wait to get an answer.
"After all," Eraserhead continued. "It's only logical for someone to associate with the people that'll eventually become their colleagues."
Hitoshi froze. Eraserhead was an experienced Pro Hero who still maintained active patrol duty despite being a full-time teacher at U.A. He wouldn't have any reason to lie about what he was implying, and Hitoshi didn't detect any hint of misdirection coming from him, but one important question came to his mind all the same.
"You don't mean…?" Hitoshi trailed off, his eyes wide as he shook his head in disbelief. "I- I failed my first match in the final stage. How could I still-"
"Think, Shinso," Eraserhead cut in. "The most important annual event in Japan is happening right now. And you were right – for all intents and purposes, I should be up in the announcer's booth with Present Mic doing my job right alongside him. So what reason would I have to scour the hallways of one of the biggest stadiums in Japan in search of a single student? What reason would I have to make you think what I know you're thinking right now?"
It didn't take long for him to draw his conclusion from there, but it didn't stop him from struggling to let out his response. "You… you want to train me?"
Even beneath the bandages, it was clear Eraserhead's lips tugged upwards. "I thought you were observant. I'm glad I was right. But to answer your question, I do. I won't pretend that I know everything about you Shinso, but I know that with a Quirk like yours, you were bound to be a victim of the inherent irrationality our society possesses nowadays."
"But… why?" Hitoshi pressed. "Why me? Why not any of the other dozens of wannabe heroes in general studies? Why not even take an interest in training one of your own students personally rather than running the risk of wasting your time with me?"
"Because unlike the other general studies students, I saw potential in you. In your strategic mind and willingness to work alongside others so long as the outcome would be beneficial to your greater goal, in the end. And unlike my students or those in Class 1-B, you were wronged by a system you had no control over. They were born with all the tools they needed to succeed at their disposal, while you were left at a disadvantage by birth," Eraserhead explained. "It's irrational to let your potential be wasted. I'm here to rectify that – if you're willing."
"I am!" Hitoshi shouted instantly.
"Good." Eraserhead praised, and he stood up a little straighter. "Now listen here, Shinso. If you want to even have a chance of catching up with the likes of the hero course students, you need to be ready for anything. Over the course of the next few months, your schedule will be busier than ever. I'll be expecting you to spend every free moment you have putting yourself through hell with me while also preventing your academics from suffering as a result. Your training will test your limits and force you to push beyond them, but if you persevere, I have no doubt that your chance to enter the hero course will come far sooner than you might think."
Hitoshi wondered how Eraserhead expected him to react to that. What he said seemed like both a final warning concerning the nature of his offer as well as an ultimatum describing the conditionality of his training with the pro, but neither things truly affected his decision. He'd put himself through that hell, he'd spend even more sleepless nights awake studying if it meant that he even had a chance at making his dream come true. He suspected that Eraserhead knew this too, even at a glance.
So his next response came easily.
"When do I start?"
"So you're still on board, then. Good." Eraserhead nodded his head approvingly. "Expect to begin training as soon as the festival's over. The first trials I'll put together for you will give you a taste of what you can expect from our time together moving forward and will act as your final trial before I can dedicate myself fully to you. Should you continue to impress, when I recover, we'll move forward with your training full force from there. I'll contact you with more details later, and you'd do well to be ready. Oh, and one more thing."
"Yeah?"
"Call me Aizawa-sensei, moving forward."
Without any hesitation, Aizawa then started walking back the way he came, and Hitoshi was left looking at the hero's back in complete shock. This was a scenario he'd never dared to even dream of before, but now that it was upon him, the determination he felt despite his defeat had never been greater.
Fate had tried its damnedest to dissuade him from pursuing his dreams over the years, today in particular, but that all-too-elusive force was about to have another thing coming.
Now, Hitoshi would forge his own destiny, and not a damn thing would be able to stop him.
Authors Note: Well then, after the utter clusterfuck of shit that was going on in the last chapter, this one was one blessing and a half to be able to write. That said, the entire final stage is going to be a clusterfuck for a variety of reasons so… I'll savor this ease of writing while it lasts, before I manage to bumble things up with the dozens of other fights that'll be going on. Regardless…
Fuck. Me. I know I planned WFAF to be parallel to canon and I still have my own plans for the guy, but fuck was it still heartbreaking to write Shinso losing because Midoriya has the power of being the protag on his side. Shinso is one of my favorite canon characters (second to Kirishima bc I mean come on) and giving him actual character in WFAF prior to this fight just made it that much more impactful, for me, but I suppose that's just to show how fond I am of this project, in the end. Fun side note – I only accidentally stumbled into the Uraraka and Midoriya potential excuse for why I don't need to hint or explain the OfA Avatar Spirits thing, and I am so happy I rolled with it.
Oh, and Aizawa continues to be the best teacher in the story, even in fanfic form, so there's that. It was pretty fun for me to fill in the blanks of when Aizawa and Shinso met in the plot, as you could probably tell from the chapter, and even though Akiko and Jomei were sidelined here (and for good reason), I still like to think they had their own nice moment in the way their mutual good nature shined through after Shinso's defeat. Oh, and Jomei had his little thing with Bakugo but we don't talk about that yet.
So, as painful as it is to say, now that Shinso's going to have his busy schedule moving forward… I shall bid him adieu, for now. Until the next time I can help you shine a little bit more than in canon, you glorious, depressed bastard.