(A/N) More Hitoshi pov. We'll get to the Sports Festival eventually I swear. But not today! Or next time. We'll, uh, see when we get to the Sports Festival… Italics with the 'text' around it is the computer speaking.

Trigger warnings for discussing the child abuse and disassociation. Read at own risk.

Hitoshi had known he was doomed once he developed the fever, except he wasn't sent back? He wasn't scolded for being unable to keep anything down for the first day, then praised later for being able to keep down some simple rice porridge as Hagakure's mom tried to go easy on his stomach.

It was making no sense, none at all, and it was starting to stress him out a bit.

The others left for school while he was kept inside, since his fever still hadn't broken, and Hagakure's mom excused it as she really didn't want Hitoshi to accidentally infect anyone else who might not have gotten their yearly flu shot.

Hitoshi thought that was a dumb excuse to keep him from going to UA, but he couldn't exactly do anything when she'd already called him in sick. He hadn't known that could happen honestly, let alone with the fact that she was not his current guardian.

About an hour after Hagakure, Ojiro, and Yaoyorozu had left for school, while Hitoshi was still in the bed under enforced bed rest, Hagakure's mom poked her head into the room.

"Hitoshi, would you mind coming downstairs for a bit?" She smiled kindly, reassuringly. "There are some people here to talk with you. I can give you a few minutes if you'd like to prepare."

Hitoshi froze, his breath stuttering in his chest. People were here to talk to him? Why? Was he being transferred to another home? That one had been last resort, how had they found someone to take him? Was he going to be moved away from UA? Would he still be able to go to the school?

"Come down when you're ready," she said quietly, closing the door behind her when she disappeared.

When he was ready? Would he ever be ready to possibly be moved away from UA, away from people he hesitantly called friends?

Hitoshi, although his head still hurt, and his gut was churning uncomfortably, and he could feel the urge to cough coming on, still pulled himself down the ladder, and off the bed. It was now or never he supposed. He might as well get it over with. There wasn't really another choice anyway.

Upon reaching the living room, Hitoshi was very surprised to find the police. What were they doing here? He didn't remember the police in any sort of moving houses. His case worker was there though, so who knew what was happening.

They were sitting across from Hagakure's mom, who patted the couch next to her to signal him to sit down.

Hitoshi sat down.

"Hitoshi Shinso, correct?" one of the officers asked, smiling at him in a way that was probably supposed to be reassuringly but really just made Hitoshi nervous.

He nodded once, stiffly.

"Ms Hagakure said you were nonverbal, would you prefer paper to write on or to use a text to speech app?" the officer asked politely.

Hitoshi's hands were probably shaking, and that meant his handwriting would be atrocious, so probably the text to speech. He signed a sloppy 'text' at them, hoping someone would get it.

"Text to speech it is. We can do sign language if you would prefer."

Hitoshi signed 'text' again, slightly less sloppily.

"Alright," he agreed. "I need to record this, if you don't mind?"

Hitoshi signed a quick agreement.

The officer took out a small thing that was presumably a recording device, followed by a small computer. He turned it on, then put it in front of Hitoshi. "You can use this. My name is Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi, I need you to state your name for the record."

Hitoshi pushed the right kanji for his name on the keyboard, trying not to laugh despite the tension at the robotic voice that read out his name except pronounced horribly.

Tsukauchi simply raised both eyebrows, although the officer on his right snickered quietly.

"Hitoshi Shinso, I presume is the correct pronunciation?"

Hitoshi nodded quickly.

"Alright. On the record I must inform you that I have a lie detecting quirk. It is always on and noninvasive, so I will indicate whether you have lied after each answer." Tsukauchi placed a sheet of paper on the table. Hitoshi could see lines of questions written on the paper. "Do you know why I am here and why we are doing this?"

Hitoshi typed in 'no', hearing the robot voice translate it.

"We are here because this is to get your previous foster parents arrested for child abuse," Tsukauchi said frankly. "You were under watch for it after USJ, but with the recent injury to your legs, it's been confirmed and now we simply need your testimony to put them away for a very long time."

Hitoshi frowned slightly. 'Wouldn't child protective services usually handle this?' He typed in. It was fine that he was asking questions like this, right? There wasn't a chance of him using his quirk.

"Yes, but as you are currently enrolled in UA and thus A, under their protection, and B, a hero in training, the police are handling it instead because it's an official crime we handle now. Understand?"

Hitoshi nodded, typing in yes as an afterthought.

"I'm going to start the more direct questions," Tsukauchi said, tapping the paper. "What was a normal day, please don't leave out any details."

Hitoshi considered it. 'A bad day or a good one?'

"Let's say, a bad one during middle school," Tsukauchi offered. "While still in this house."

Hitoshi nodded, willing his hands to stop shaking so badly. Couldn't show that much weakness. Had to type it in, and not fall into a panic attack. Easy. 'I'd wake up early, if I slept at all.'

"Elaborate on that please?" Tsukauchi asked. "The not sleeping?"

'I can't sleep a lot. I try. It doesn't happen.' Hitoshi attempted to explain. 'Usually can't sleep with the muzzle on until I pass out.'

"Insomnia," Tsukauchi said. "It has a name. Insomnia."

Hitoshi nodded. He'd heard that before. It sounded right. 'I'd wake up if I slept at all, usually do any dishes left over from the previous day if I didn't do them during the night, then often try and either leave for school or hide in the room that I slept in until it was time for school.'

"And after school?" Tsukauchi prompted when Hitoshi took a bit too long to try and stop his hands from shaking quite so badly.

Hagakure's mom put a quiet hand on his knee. Hitoshi appreciated it. It was easier to ground himself with that there, her thumb moving in slow arcs on the side of his knee.

'They liked me back by a certain time, and the second I did get home it was the muzzle. Sometimes not tightened, sometimes it was. I usually had a panic attack in my room afterwards, then stayed there usually until morning.'

"How often did you eat dinner?" Tsukauchi asked calmly.

Hitoshi shrugged. The hand on his knee squeezed twice, and he focused on it. It was easier than focusing on what he was saying, er, writing. He had to remember that the police wouldn't let them kill him for this, they wouldn't be able to touch him after this, he just had to get it all out. As quickly as possible preferably. 'Once or twice a week if I was lucky.'

"Explains why you're so malnourished," Tsukauchi sighed. "Alright enough there, have you gone without medical attention for a serious injury?"

Hitoshi wordlessly motioned at his face. That was probably the best answer they were going to get.

"Right, thank you for your cooperation," Tsukauchi sighed, reaching forward to turn off the machine. "On the record, everything logged as true to my quirk." He turned it off, and put it away, sliding the computer across the table and putting it away as well.

"Thank you for coming," Hagakure's mom said, squeezing his knee once more before standing up. Hitoshi barely heard her, barely felt it, watching water fall, watching the world disappear into the murky water while he was in his glass bubble. Here he didn't have to feel, didn't have to remember, didn't need to think.

When the water finally cleared and the glass bubble shattered around him, he was kneading more bread. Hagakure's mom was next to him, working her own bit of dough.

"Feeling a bit better?" She asked quietly, apparently noticing his pause in kneading. Hitoshi resumed the kneading, nodding as he did so. "That's good to hear," she murmured, pushing the dough forward, and folding it back.

Hitoshi pushed his dough forward too, rolling it back and folding it before pushing it forward again.

"Repetitive motions like kneading bread are good for getting out of disassociation," Hagakure's mom said, not pausing in her rhythm. "You weren't responding very well, barely there. Do you remember anything of the time you were disassociated?"

Hitoshi shook his head. He rarely did, even if it seemed like he apparently went through motions just fine while in the bubble.

"Sounds like some pretty heavy disassociation," she hummed. "The other kids will be home in another hour or so, what do you say we color this bread and make some steamed buns."

Hitoshi shrugged, not really having an opinion on that. And what did she mean by color the bread?

(A/N) She meant put food coloring in it lol. I have made pink steamed buns before, it was fun. Little bit of a like two day time skip to next chapter, but we really need to get to the Sports Festival eventually. Can't spend all our time in this break between canon events. Just the next chapter or maybe two...