(A/N) I swear I meant to get to fluff this chapter. There are warnings for this chapter. The majority of it requires warnings for mild blood/gore and disassociation. Another warning being that this is one of those chapters where the Child Abuse tag comes in very heavily. Be warned, and read at your own risk. Be careful. I'll summarize it at the end for those who skipped it.
Hitoshi wouldn't call today the worst day, that award went to a day he didn't feel like ever remembering, but he certainly wouldn't call it the best either. While he hadn't been muzzled the previous night on doctor's orders, some odd reason that went right over his still slightly drugged head, they'd expressed severe dislike of seeing the injury. So Hitoshi hid it with the makeup he had, continuing about chores as he always did.
He was clumsy, was bad, and broke a plate, accidentally dropping it against the floor.
Some shards embedded themselves in his feet, one bigger one in his left leg, the rest going across the floor.
His breath stuttered in his chest. She wouldn't be happy. Neither of the adults would be.
His prediction was correct, of course it was, he'd broken a plate, broken a rule, broken something worth more than he was. The plate had been part of a set, one they rarely used.
He froze when the foster mother entered the kitchen, her eyes landing immediately on the shattered glass.
"You did this?"
It wasn't really a question, there was no one else in the kitchen, and it was Hitoshi's job to wash the dishes.
Hitoshi nodded anyway. She'd get angrier if he didn't respond.
"That was part of a set," she continued, ignoring his flinch. Or perhaps she saw it. Impossible to tell.
Hitoshi nodded again.
"Do you know what happens when part of a set breaks?" She asked, tone icy.
Hitoshi swallowed, but shook his head. He didn't know, although he had a hunch. It wasn't a very good one, however.
"The rest of the set, so carefully crafted, is now pointless without it," she continued, answering her own question. Hitoshi flinched.
She picked one of the other plates up, examining it critically. "Break any of the others? Crack them? Chip them? Make the set even more worthless?"
Hitoshi shook his head. He knew she wouldn't believe him, but he did it anyway.
He flinched as one landed, then shattered at his bare feet.
"These are useless now," she snarled, another one hitting closer to his left leg. Hitoshi flinched again, but was frozen to the spot.
"Unusable," she continued, a third plate shattering right infront of his foot, shards flying up to slice into his leg and foot.
"Pointless." A bowl and a plate. He could feel the shards embedding themselves in his legs and feet.
"Worthless." The final four bowls of the set.
Hitoshi's breath was stuttering in his chest and he couldn't breath. She didn't appear to notice, but he didn't expect her to. No one did. He could feel the blood pouring down his leg, the shards of ceramic embedded in it. It hurt, although in a somewhat detached way. He knew it hurt, and it kind of did, but it was more like seeing it through thick glass.
She finally huffed, leaving.
Hitoshi waited a while after she left, then hurried to fetch the mop and broom. Broom for the shattered ceramic, mop for the blood.
Time glitched, and he was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, watching the blood come from his leg somewhat sluggishly.
He turned on the water, not caring that it was cold on his skin, and started splashing it on his legs. The water ran red, continued running red as he tried to get the smaller shards out of his leg. He'd probably missed a couple, but he was just tired. He had to continue on though, had to get to school, had to move on with his day.
He turned off the water, patting his legs dry with the old shirt he usually used, then wrapped up his legs in the bandages he had left. He stood up shakily, pulling off the torn pants and replacing them with his UA uniform pants, followed by his shirt.
He passed the mirror and stared blankly at himself in the mirror for a long moment. He looked tired. He should probably feel tired as well, but all he felt was a vague sense of disconnection and numbness.
Time paused, then glitched, and he was standing in front of the door to the 1A classroom.
He pushed it open, leaning against the doorframe to relieve some of the pressure on his left leg. He could feel the injuries moving and tearing. He couldn't afford to get blood on the uniform.
Ojiro asked how he was doing, and Hitoshi just blinked at him blankly. His legs and feet hurt, and somehow, it felt more like his feelings were a bunch of fish trying to kill each other in an aquarium. He didn't think anyone would understand that, so he said nothing. He didn't think he could get his vocal chords to work anyway.
The day passed in glitches and spurts, some words filtering past the glass area he seemed to have found himself in.
He debated breaking the metaphorical glass, but he was pretty sure he'd drown under all the water putting pressure on the sphere.
"Hitoshi?" Hagakure asked, and Hitoshi blinked at her slightly distorted face through the glass. He tilted his head to show he was listening. "Right, well, we were thinking, that especially with the stress of everything, it might be a nice break to just have a sleepover! No studying, no training, nothing! Wanna join?"
Hitoshi blinked again. They wanted him to join them? Why? Why would they invite a villain kid into their home?
He had three expectant gazes on him, so he shrugged. If they wanted him to. He'd have to take what he could get, right? And even if they threw him out, it was still a night away from his foster parents.
"Is that a yes?" Yaoyorozu asked hesitantly. Hitoshi nodded, equally hesitant. She beamed, and Hitoshi thought he'd made a right choice for once. It couldn't be wrong if it made her happy, right? Couldn't be.
Ojiro and Hagakure also seemed just as cheery about it, chattering happily about things they could do.
"Like, my mom really doesn't mind mixed gender sleepovers, she really has no issue with it as long as we keep the door open and stuff." Hagakure hummed, tapping her chin. "I have a bunch of nail polish, but you guys probably wouldn't care about it."
"Trust me, I am well used to having my nails painted," Ojiro laughed slightly. "As long as you promise not to get nail polish all over my fingers and hands, you can do mine."
Hagakure snorted. "I solemnly promise not to get nail polish all over Mash's hands."
"You have my utmost gratitude," Ojiro informed her, putting his hand to his chest.
Hitoshi quirked a quiet smile that probably looked more like a smirk. He felt a bit more grounded, less lost in an ocean, more like there was a way out of the aquarium.
"Hitoshi, have you ever had your nails painted?" Hagakure asked, turning to him.
Hitoshi shrugged. He didn't think he had, but he wasn't entirely sure.
Hagakure hummed. "Would you be comfortable with me or Momo painting your nails tonight? Assuming you get permission of course!"
Ah, yes, he'd have to ask the foster mother. She probably wouldn't mind, especially not after this morning's fiasco. He'd send her a text after school.
Hitoshi debated her first question. It was just his hands, so he'd probably be fine with it. And he'd manage even if he wasn't. He nodded.
"To the nails?" Hagakure checked.
Hitoshi nodded again.
She grinned. "I wonder if I have the right color to match your hair."
"Use yellow," Yaoyorozu suggested. "It'll compliment his hair."
"Ooh, nice idea Momo!" Hagakure said, stuffing some food in her mouth. "Come on Hitoshi, you and I both know you really have to eat that."
Hitoshi shrugged, pushing it around his plate. He didn't really feel like eating.
"Hitoshi," Yaoyorozu sighed, giving him a disappointed look.
Hitoshi immediately felt guilty and stuck a bite in his mouth. It was good, as usual, but he had to force himself to swallow, and felt like throwing it back up once he'd finished swallowing it. He tried giving them a shaky smile, but they clearly didn't buy it. Luckily they didn't pester him, so he just went back to pushing it around his plate.
Upon reaching the end of lunch, he threw his tray away, trying to avoid Yaoyorozu's disappointed stare. It was like she was trying to weaponize it or something.
"So, could all of you make it to a sleepover tonight?" Hagakure asked as they left the lunch room.
Yaoyorozu nodded. "I'd have to grab an overnight bag of course, but I'd love to. I doubt mother would disagree with me going."
"I should be good too, as long as your mom is fine with it," Ojiro agreed. "But same as Momo, I'll need to grab a bag of stuff for it."
"Hitoshi?" Hagakure asked immediately. "What about you?"
Hitoshi shrugged. He didn't think the foster parents would disagree, they'd probably just make sure he had the muzzle with him in case the other parents felt the need to muzzle him. It seemed he would need a bag as well, so he made a gesture that hopefully looked enough like packing a bag for them to get it.
It took them a few seconds, but Hagakure nodded. "Alright! It's a deal then! I'll text each of you my address!"
Hitoshi didn't own a phone, so he mimed writing it down.
"Oh, you need me to write it down!" Hagakure said after a moment. "Alright! If you have a piece of paper I can! Or I have sticky notes in my backpack, so I'll do it when we get into the classroom!"
Hitoshi just nodded along, just ready for the day to be over. Now that he was out of the metaphorical aquarium, he was doing his best not to limp, although it was extremely difficult. He could feel the slightly damp bandages, which meant he'd probably started bleeding through them. He really couldn't afford to ruin the UA pants. He really hoped he could do something about it and soon.
(A/N) For those who skipped: Shinso broke a plate, which ended in punishment(child abuse tag was heavy there). He, disassociating fairly heavily, went to school anyway, where the events of last chapter happened. After a lunch discussion he got invited to a sleepover, which is the next chapter. Please don't do what Hitoshi did, he's making bad choices. They're necessary for this story, but still bad choices. Feel free to come complain in my discord server about his bad decisions, the code is pnQAF39 (if anyone's wondering, yes, I have memorized that code at this point.)