Update as of November 2019: Fixed grammar and re-wrote Hitoshi's part to make it more natural for progression. Rather than have Nagai join by Hitoshi's recommendation, Hitoshi avoids taking the next relational step with his peers.


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An injured man helplessly clawed along a dark alley. He dragged his limp body with one movable arm, with crimson smeared on the ground as he opened his mouth to cry for help. A blade suddenly pierced through his shoulder and the hero cried, his call for help fell into deaf ears as he fell back on the ground, more injured than ever.

Another figure that wore a dark combat suit with plated metal armor dropped soundlessly behind him. He yanked the weapon off the hero's shoulder then licked the blood along its sharp end with his long, rough tongue. The taste of metal rolled around in his mouth while the hero froze deadly still, paralyzed by mysterious forces.

"Y – You will never win."

The attacker ignored the threat and unsheathed his katana. It was the only weapon worthy enough to judge those that have lost their way. Katana's symbolized an individual's right and power to protect others. It represented the strength of authority and true courage – qualities that this hero lacked. He marked the tip of the blade near the hero's heart and said, "And you are a money worshiper playing hero that will die by my hand."

He pushed the sword deeper into the fake's chest and counted the second before the latter's chest. When the deed was done, Stain wiped the blood off his clothes and began his retreat. He could cull another hero before the night ended if he was careful enough.

"Hero Killer Stain."

Stain flung a knife to his left and expected it to reveal the onlooker, bloodied if need be. He was baffled to find the weapon suspended in mid air instead. Black smoke skirted around the blade as though holding it in place, and the shadows swayed to life around him. Stain cautiously reached for the larger weapon strapped on his back and prepared for a fight

A hero?

He did not recall a hero with this quirk patrolling this very same area. He frowned. Regardless of this person's identity, Stain will not be captured here.

He waited, and waited, and the longer he did, the more Stain noticed that the lights in the alley dimmed until it was just pure darkness. Something shifted in his periphery, and Stain immediately drew out another knife and threw it at the movement. The knife stopped near a lamp post, and the same black smoke skirted its grip around the hilt.

Red eyes revealed themselves as the blade flipped close to the mystery person's eyes with interest. "This is very well made," they said, marveling at the weapon for a bit before they turned their attention back at Stain. "You are a tough man to find."

"I'm not one that wants to be."

Ruby eyes shined as the figure laughed. "Of course. Acting as judge and jury to heroes is no easy feat. If I were in your predicament, I wouldn't want to be found either."

"Congratulations on eliminating Ingenium," they added. "He has been a thorn to our side as of late. You certainly saved us a lot of resources."

"I didn't kill him for you," Stain said. "He's a hero that succumbed to selfish desires and no longer serves the people. I relinquished him of the title he no longer deserves."

"As he should be," they said. "We have followed your career religiously as Stendhal –" Stain's eye twitched at the mention of an old alias. He has not used that moniker for years. Who was this person?

"To think our paths would cross under these circumstances. It's almost like fate."

"What do you want?" the villain impatiently asked.

A picture formed in the dark and fell on Stain's feet. "This hero has been sticking his nose in areas he should not. I believe he fits your… criteria. You are not a hitman, far from it. However, our targets already coincide. Why not hit two birds with one stone -" the figure laughed as he spun Stain's blade on their finger "- or blade, in this situation."

Stain studied the photograph of a hero in an ethnic styled costume. He recognized him enough to know he was on his list. Stain ripped the picture in half. Whether or not he was requested to kill this hero, Stain already planned to do so.

"I refuse to work with anyone who's too afraid to show themselves to me."

It only took a second for the mysterious person to reveal themselves. The shadows converged behind the lamp post to reveal a young man in a black and white suit. He had light blue hair with black streaks, and a large scar across his face. "Would this suffice?"

Stain wrinkled his broken nose. A teenager. "Who are you and what is your business with me?"

The teenager tilted his head, seemingly bored with the question. "Who I am is irrelevant. You already know what I look like, if you so choose to pursue and terminate me I doubt it will be hard for you. As for why… I already told you. Take out Native and we'll be forever grateful."

"We?"

The teen smiled. "Consider us as an interested sponsor. If you succeed, we may be able to help you further your message."

Stain narrowed his eyes at the teen and scoffed. "I will purge this hero regardless of your organization's interest."

"We know," the boy hummed. "It's simply courtesy to invite you with a test don't you think? Till then, Hero Killer, we await your response." A blanket of shadow covered him, then him, and the darkness that cloaked the alley, disappeared.

Stain's blade fell, leaving him in silence to mull over the invitation.


Hitoshi decided he's had enough of being the center of attention.

He's always worked to change people's perception of him with his actions. It didn't always work, but the few times that it did, Hitoshi chose to cherish it. People trusted him, only for them to betray him in the end. It happened like clockwork.

His so called success in the sports festival changed a lot people's impression of him more than anything he's done before. Truly, it flattered him how willing everyone was to befriend him now after what he did, however, their eagerness was starting to raise problems.

Hitoshi noticed a few eyes watching him as he marched to class the morning after their party in Akisuta. Their gaze had no malice in them, but he can't help thinking of them as ill-willed either way. Thankfully no one ambushed him despite the curiosity in their eyes.

That all changed come lunch break however.

"What are you doing there?!" Nusumi cried when he spotted him in the same sandwich stand he frequented since the semester started. They had sub-par selections, but at least they were affordable. "You just became the Hero of General Studies and you're eating cheap food! You can't do that!"

Hitoshi scoffed. "I can, and I will."

"No, no, no!" She pushed him to Lunch-Rush's stall, and Hitoshi grimaced. Lunch-Rush's meals were way off his budget.

"I don't have the Yen to pay for this –"

"Trust me! You're not going to have to!"

Hitoshi suddenly felt more inclined not to. "We are not using your quirk…" he warned her, and Nusumi giggled. That is definitely not good.

Hitoshi's threat was ignored and the next thing he knew, he was carrying a fresh bento box with a steaming bowl of miso on his hand. Nusumi thanked the stand employee by their first name and paid for both meals for a relatively lower price.

He glared at her, but Nusumi shrugged it off.

"Scold me all you want, Shinsou-chii." Hitoshi's eye twitched at the new nickname. He knew that's not going to go away soon. "But I didn't do a thing that you won't prove. Look around, everyone's fine! No Karma from me~"

Hitoshi did look, and to his surprise, no one was running or crying over some unexplained accident. They didn't even look like they were pissed or annoyed that he and Nusumi technically cut in line. Instead, they all stared at him, gawking and whispering among themselves.

"Whoops," Nusumi said. "Looks like we've been spotted by your adoring new fans."

"Adoring what?"

She winked, as though wishing him luck, before quickly running for it.

"Nusumi –!" Hitoshi hissed, until another voice greeted him from behind.

"Hey," said a fellow freshman that stood a few inches smaller than him. "You're Hitoshi Shinsou right? The same one from the sports festival? I'm such a huge fan."

She took a step closer and Hitoshi stepped back. "I didn't think a general education student like me could stand against a hero trainee. You made me feel like I can do anything –"

The whispers grew louder as the girl insisted on her advances. He looked around in a quiet panic as more eyes glanced over at them – both curious and malicious.

"Is that –?"

"Look at mister big shot hero wannabee. Thinks he's all hot shit."

"Poor guy, don't know what hit him when he got pitted against Midoriya. Now he has the balls to walk around like he won."

"He looks like he could use a good night's rest."

"He was so badass out there. I wanna be like him."

"I'm a second year and I can't imagine doing what he did. He's like – a freaking hero to me."

People crowded around him, and Hitoshi was far too flustered to comprehend anything they said.

"Shinsou –" the girl tugged at his sleeve, demanding more of his attention. "Do you want to have lunch together?"

Hitoshi noticed the blush on her cheeks, and shuddered. He's read enough Shoujo manga to know where this was headed – or not – if he acted vigilantly.

"OKAY!" Fumei's voice suddenly came from outside the circle and started pushing people out of the way. "Break it up people – let the hero general studies have an hour of peace."

Kureito followed after him, and lazily waved his phone-turned-into-a-knife at anyone that dared push too close for comfort. The blade was too dull to actually hurt anyone, but the crowd still looked terrified at the weapon.

They slowly dispersed in hushed tones, and Fumei huffed at the girl clinging onto Hitoshi's arm.

"And you –" the girl squeaked. "Step away from Toshi."

"Toshi?" he and the girl echoed, albeit in slightly different tones.

"You heard me. He's not interested."

The girl huffed. "You don't get to decide that for him. You're not his boyfriend."

"Maybe I am you glory-hogging bi–" Kureito slapped his hand on Fumei's mouth before he could finish.

"Sorry about that," the pink haired teen said. "He hasn't had his coffee. Look, Shinsou's the worst person to date alright? He doesn't talk a lot, and he would definitely forget where he left you."

Hitoshi glared at Kureito, and the latter smirked at him. He pulled out a card from his pocket and handed it towards the girl, who blushed when their hands brushed against each other. "Call me instead, kay? I promise to treat you to some good time."

She reluctantly took the paper and stuttered, "I – I suppose. He's not really my type." She said while looking at Hitoshi then left to return to her friends.

Fumei shoved Kureito's hand away, and wiped his mouth disgustedly. "Are you serious about asking her out?"

Kureito shrugged. "I got rid of her didn't it?"

The blond rolled his eyes before turning to Hitoshi. "You cool?"

"M'fine," Hitoshi said. "Let's just find a table."

Fumei glowed at the open invitation and immediately found them a seat.

Hitoshi silently trailed after them even though he found their combined presence to be a nuisance. Fumei and Kureito's attendance in his tables seemed to scare other parties that seemed interested in befriending him. As much as he disliked their company, Hitoshi allowed them to stay.

On a normal day, he'd already be on his way back to the room with only a sandwich on hand. On a normal day, he would do everything in his power to talk to them at the same time. Unfortunately, today was not a normal day.

Fumei and Kureito were recurring nuisances in his life. Nusumi was also one, but she had other friends to bother. These two didn't.

Kureito would occasionally tease him to stave off boredom in class, while Fumei occasionally joined in whenever he felt like it. The blond had also become more tolerable over the weeks because of how prominent he was in Hitoshi's training. Kureito on the other hand remained to be a thorn on his side.

Unlike Fumei who was genuinely interested in being Hitoshi's friend, Kureito was only interested in talking to him for cheap amusement. He's slightly better and well behaved whenever Fumei's around, but that's only because they share the same intent to get a reaction out of him. It's like some unspoken rule between them, and Hitoshi had no choice but to sit through it. They usually stopped bothering him if he didn't react to anything.

"I did not understand a single thing from Ectoplasm's lecture today," the blonde sighed. "I took notes but halfway they changed to scribbles. Hieroglyphics even."

"That's what you get for trying to analyze a quirk instead of learning functions," Kureito said.

"Who cares about math when you can unlock the mysteries of cloning?"

"Will that help me get more chocolate mousse without paying?"

Fumei raised his finger to argue, but brought it down right away. "Well... no."

"Then you should've listened."

Fumei pouted and turned to Hitoshi, who was eating his meal in silence. "Did you understand anything?"

"Of course I did. It's easy to understand if you listened."

The blond groaned. "It's not fair I'm friends with geniuses. Lend me something to work with here. I can't be good at everything else but fail at math of all things."

"So you finally admit to having a weakness," Hitoshi sneered. "I should tell the others about it so you can stop gatekeeping."

Fumei frowned, and mumbled something as though complaining in silence.

Kureito then distracted him with some pictures on his phone that quickly got Fumei in high spirits. Like Hitoshi expected, both of them soon forgot he even existed on the table with them.

They occasionally showed him a meme or two, but didn't do anything else. No witty banter, no… teasing. It was odd. Hitoshi liked the quiet, but he didn't like this particular quiet.

He glanced between them, then searched for Nusumi somewhere in the hall. They were obviously planning something.

"What are you looking around for, hero of general studies?" Kureito asked.

"Something's wrong, and I'm certain it has something to do with you."

The pink haired teen raised his hands innocently and said, "Its quiet, isn't that what you want?"

"It's never quiet when you're together," he said while looking at Fumei. "Nusumi just bought me food for free. Something's up."

Fumei laughed. "That 'up' is just us being kind to you. Relax, no one's going to do anything."

"Yeah," Kureito nodded. "Can't we have a nice lunch for once?"

"Not when it comes with you."

"Fine, I won't sell anything you obviously won't buy. I'm getting drinks, want anything?" he asked Fumei.

"Coffee... Cold."

Kureito turned to Hitoshi, who frowned and looked over his shoulder again just to be sure. When he didn't notice anything amiss, Hitoshi sighed, "I'm fine."

"Your loss then." Kureito said as he left.

As he disappeared in the crowd, Hitoshi kept his eye on him just to be certain. Then nothing. Not even after a minute. Hitoshi sighed in relief and helped himself with more Miso.

"You're really worried we'll do something huh?" Fumei asked, and Hitoshi hissed a soft yes.

"Sorry to disappoint, but we really just wanted to eat lunch. Maybe even ask you out to hang out after school since Kureito missed going to Akisuta. If you're cool with it?"

"He didn't miss anything," he said. "And no. Yesterday was a one-time thing, I'm not doing it again."

"Aw come on!" Fumei pouted. "I'll make sure he behaves! It was his idea that we sit together and get whatever this is-" he motioned between them, "started."

Hitoshi narrowed his eyes at Fumei. Nothing was starting between them. He was just someone Hitoshi needed to learn from, that was it. They were not friends.

"You were doing so great being open to everyone yesterday, why stop now?"

Hitoshi frowned at Fumei's leaps in logic. Did he think that just because he decided to tolerate everyone more that they were friends now?

He never had friends.

All he ever had were acquaintances that dropped their friendly ties with him the moment he stopped being useful, or because they wanted to save themselves more. Hitoshi never had friends because they didn't trust him with anything.

He enjoyed their day out yesterday and grateful as he was over their joint effort to win him that All Might figure, none of them sat down to talk to him.

Nagai may have tried, but he himself was reluctant to share anything about himself. They didn't trust him; just as he didn't trust them. It was just an act of mutual respect between them that they honored through smiles and small kind gestures.

They were still capable of betraying him.

Hitoshi wouldn't let himself fall into that trap again. It's happened multiple times before, and despite the difference in their initial impression of him, Hitoshi still held that fear close to his heart. He was willing to tolerate them, but he wasn't going to let anyone get too close.

Not even Fumei.

"Pass," Hitoshi said as he packed up his tray. "I'm not interested in being friends with you or anyone."


Despite his said time and time again, he wasn't going to make and have friends, Fumei kept on insisting that he at least have one, and by one he meant himself.

If Fumei nominated someone less irritating, Hitoshi may have considered it, but seeing as he only meant to sell himself, there was really no point in taking his advice seriously. After he refused him for the nth time, Hitoshi hoped Fumei would get the hint that he just wasn't interested in being friends at all.

Fumei then desperately begged him to just give him a chance. He promised to train him privately if he would let them hang out for a day or two.

The offer was really tempting, so Hitoshi chose not to answer. If he left the answer out there, then Fumei would never know. Unfortunately for him, silence typically meant yes, and Fumei interpreted it the same way.

He followed Hitoshi like an eager puppy after class, lingering neither too close nor too far from him but stayed within Hitoshi's periphery. Fumei followed him all the way home, and Hitoshi would've kicked him out if only the former didn't already know where he lived.

When they arrived, Fumei made a beeline for Hitoshi's room, but the latter grabbed his hood and sat him down in the living room. If he had no other choice but to indulge Fumei until the latter got bored then so be it. He just wouldn't allow him to enter his room without tidying up first.

After Hitoshi shoved everything that needed to be hidden in the closet, he ran down to fetch Fumei, and was surprised to see his dad laughing along with the latter.

"Are you sure that's Hitoshi dancing?"

Fumei laughed. "Yeah! He got better once he found a song he liked. He's got great footwork, Shinsou-san. Oh! You should see him sing!"

Hitoshi grabbed the phone before he lost the last remains of his dignity. "Room's clean, you can go up."

Fumei pouted, while Hajime laughed. "One more video won't hurt, Hitoshi. I want to hear your beautiful voice!"

"No way."

He dragged Fumei up to his room and once they were alone, the blond grinned as he flopped down Hitoshi's bed. "Your dad's nice."

"He's usually not," Hitoshi mumbled. "He's just excited I brought someone home."

"Aw, at least buy me dinner first."

"That's not what I mean."

Fumei waved his hand and remained unmoving on the bed. Hitoshi walked over and stared him down, "Are you just going to lie there or are you going to help me practice."

"Oh about that. I was joking."

Hitoshi's eye twitched.

"Look, it's not you," Fumei apologized. "It's Sensei. He said no practice for two weeks or else he's training me instead. I hate his training. There is no way I'm gambling with that ultimatum."

He looked around Hitoshi's room and spotted a small television set at the corner. "Let's do something fun instead. Like real friends."

"We're not friends," Hitoshi reminded him. "If we're not going to practice, then get out of my house."

Fumei rolled his eyes and reached for his bag. "Fine. You want something to do. Teach me math."

Hitoshi raised a brow at him. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

Amidst his better judgement, Hitoshi actually spent the next two hours teaching Fumei trigonometry. At first he thought Fumei faked his confusion over the subject but it turned out to be true. Fumei often mixed the functions and always reached the wrong answer.

He broke it down for him, then it was all Fumei's hard work. Hitoshi booted up Heroes: Rising while Fumei solved the problem on his own and practiced All Might's move sets with a bunch of heroes Nagai introduced him to. He even used the villains when he started to grow bored.

For a while, all Hitoshi could hear was the music from the game, along with the occasional grunts and screams from the characters. Fumei was so engrossed in solving the activity sheet that Hitoshi almost forgot he was there.

It wasn't until Fumei spoke up that Hitoshi didn't. "Why don't you want to be friends with anyone?"

"None of your business, that's what."

"No one just doesn't want to be friends with people! That way of life is just sad."

"Well I don't," he spat. "Sorry for living a sad miserable life. If you want to be friends with someone so badly, then go bother Akusa."

Fumei groaned. "I don't want to be his friend, I want to be yours! Come on, there has to be a reason. If you tell me, I can help you overcome whatever is holding you back."

Hitoshi paused his game and turned to Fumei. "There's no reason. End of discussion."

"But the class already thinks they're your friends? I think of you as a friend. Isn't it a bit unfair you don't see us as yours too?"

"I don't care. We'll never be friends."

Fumei looked to the side and settled on the unboxed All Might figure on Hitoshi's desk. He smiled a little too schemingly for Hitoshi's taste. Hitoshi threw a pillow at him which Fumei caught with one hand. "You'll break under pressure soon enough."

"I doubt it."

Hitoshi resumed his game while Fumei finished his problem set. After a few minutes, the blond handed him the finished papers and ran through it together.

Hitoshi expected wrong answers but Fumei got them all perfectly. He wanted to give himself a medal for being able to coach him well, but at the same time, wondered if Fumei was only pretending to be bad at trigonometry.

No one went from horrible to perfect in a subject they're bad at in just two hours. He shook the idea away then stood to escort Fumei out.

"Nu-uh," Fumei huffed. "I want to play Rising. You owe me that at least."

"Isn't it supposed to be the other way around?"

"I train you for free every day, I think I can cash my non-existent fees now."

Hitoshi sighed. "Fine. One round, then you're leaving."

"Five."

"Two."

"Three!"

"Two."

"Deal!" Fumei lunged for a controller then settled beside Hitoshi. They started a match between Hitoshi's All Might, and Fumei's Peerless Thief.

Hitoshi easily won both rounds and he smiled smugly at Fumei, who stared in disbelief at the screen. "That wasn't fair, you obviously main All Might!"

"He's my favorite. What's your point?"

"That you're cheating! I used a character I barely know anything about. It's only fair that you do too!"

"No."

"Come on! If I lose I promise I won't pester you about being friends ever again."

Hitoshi stopped to consider it, before he shook his head. "You'll keep at it even if I won, so no thanks. Get out."

Fumei shook his head incessantly. "I promise! I really won't. Please."

Hitoshi heard some faint ringing at the back of his mind, but quickly dismissed it. "I said two matches, and you lost two. Go home."

Fumei reluctantly stomped his way down to the exit like a child with tantrums. He thanked Hajime for his hospitality on the way out and looked back at Hitoshi with a grin, "You're going to be sorry you didn't take my offer Hitoshi."


Fumei stayed true to his word and earnestly made Hitoshi regret kicking him out of his house.

The blond absolutely refused to let Hitoshi out of his sight for even just a second. He stuck behind him like a parasite, sucking the life out of Hitoshi's body every chance he got. Hitoshi mostly ignored him, but even that didn't stop Fumei. The blond continued their one-sided conversations by conversing with himself and responding with horribly imitated mannerism of Hitoshi.

It was honestly very annoying.

His attempts didn't stop in school either. Fumei followed him all the way home with the same lame excuse that he needed help with trigonometry. Hitoshi called bullshit after he flunked him the same activity sheet he perfected the last time.

It took Hitoshi two days before he decided he had enough. It was clear Fumei was not going to stop, so he thought about reporting the abuse to Awaseru-sensei.

As he reached for the faculty room door, Hitoshi felt something hold him back. A heavy pull that made his arm stop halfway into grabbing the door's handle.

He couldn't explain what it was that stopped him but it was a lot like fighting an equal force against his will. The more he thought about it, the more the feeling fought back. He kept trying to push back against it until he blacked out.

He got his bearing back outside the school building, in front of a vending machine between the support and general buildings. He didn't even know there was a vending machine outside the campus this far away from the usual after school hang out spots.

Hitoshi ventured back the way he thought he came from while he tried to piece together how he ended up here.

As he turned to a corner, Hitoshi heard a couple of familiar voices. He spotted Nagai and his friends huddled in a small circle, sharing a potluck on the floor. Hitoshi slowly backed away to avoid their attention, but Kuchisake's sunken eyes instantly snapped towards him.

"I spy with my little eyes..." Kuchisake said. "Something purple and has dark circles."

Hadesu scratched his forehead, dumbfounded. "A mochi?"

Kuchisake pointed over their shoulders and. Hadesu craned his head. "Oh, you meant Shinsou! Wait - What are you doing here?"

"I honestly don't know either, but this place is quiet. I can avoid Fumei here."

"He's been really into it the past few days huh?" Nagai said. "Well, you're free to hang with us if you want. We're playing mind games. Kuchisake's got plenty."

"No, thanks," he politely declined. "I finally got rid of him, I'm not trading his noise for you three."

"We'll be quiet," Kuchisake said after she pulled her lips off as a sign of faith. Hitoshi tried not to be disgusted

Hadesu's fiery hair flared white, and he covered his eyes. "PUT IT BACK! OH GOD! A LITTLE WARNING NEXT TIME PLEASE?!"

Kuchisake's shoulders bounced and she put her mouth back as asked.

Hitoshi didn't know Hadesu nor Kuchisake well, but he knew Nagai. He was one of the few people he actually liked in class and it wasn't just because they shared a common interest. Nagai knew what it was like to be judged based on his appearance, and Hitoshi sympathized with him due to similar circumstances.

Unlike Hitoshi however, Nagai had already learned how not to dwell on people's perception of him and owned up to it. In a way, Nagai felt like someone Hitoshi could be in the future if he just stopped caring about people's opinion of him.

He wanted to learn how.

Sighing in defeat, Hitoshi dropped beside Nagai, who clapped his back in cheer. Kuchisake then changed the game to include Hitoshi. The game was short and played around with the use of Japanese articles. It baffled the other two, but Hitoshi quickly understood.

"I told you, the answer is in the phrase," she said for the nth time. "I'm going to the market and there's persimmon, watermelon, and apricot for sale. I picked one up. What is it?"

"Persimmon!" Hadesu shouted, and Kuchisake shook her head.

"The...watermelon?" Nagai guessed.

Kuchisake clapped and asked the raven again. "Right! I go and pick up another one, what is this?"

"Ah - apricot?"

"Shame, I thought you finally had it," she sighed.

Hadesu continued to throw random guesses, while Nagai growled. "Could use a little help here," the raven said. "We could end up cutting class just to get this."

"You're not serious?"

"Deadly," Nagai grinned, and Hitoshi raised a skeptical brow at him. Nagai caved under his stare. "Course not, but we definitely won't stop thinking about it."

"If it gets you back to class, then fine. I'm surprised you haven't gotten it yet really."

Nagai stared at him. "You're kidding. You know the answer?!"

Kuchisake's eye gleamed. "If you know it, why not throw the idiots a bone? I have a fruit basket with an apricot, a persimmon, and watermelon. I decide to give you one. What is that?"

Nagai and Hadesu watched him with wide, expectant eyes. Hitoshi shook his head in disbelief. "It's apricot."

"Bingo! So he is smarter than both of you combined."

"Shut up!" the other two whined and begged Hitoshi for the answer. The more they pleaded, the more Hitoshi felt less inclined to give it to them.

"Like she said. It's in the phrase."

Kuchisake sent him an approving look, which made Hadesu and Nagai admit defeat.

They walked back to the classroom in mild silence. Hadesu did most of the talking to try and get Kuchisake to give up the answer to her word game. Nagai already gave up and stayed behind to keep Hitoshi company.

Hitoshi squinted when he felt Nagai's eyes burn themselves at the side of his head. "I can see you staring you know."

"Sorry, just thinking about something you might be interested in. But it's really not my business so I shouldn't -"

"You're already talking, so might as well."

"Oh? Really? Well," the raven chuckled. "If you want to then I shall. You know how I said I help... heroes?" he whispered so softly that Hitoshi quickly understood the nature of the topic.

"You also said we shouldn't talk about it."

"Yes, I did say that,, but this is more for you than them."

Hitoshi glanced towards the raven. "I don't plan on being a vigilante, Nagai."

"No duh, you want to be a hero and that's what you're goin to be," the other said like it was obvious. "I'm talking about equipment! I thought that maybe with a quirk like yours you'd need it most."

The idea of support items did cross Hitoshi's mind before. He just never acted on it because one, he wasn't gifted with skills in metallurgy, much less engineering, and two, he kind of didn't want to have one. All Might didn't use a lot of equipment either, so Hitoshi opted to follow in his example.

Once he may have thought of that, but it was different now though. He wasn't All Might. He needed equipment to bolster the skills his quirk could never make up for.

"Did you have ideas?"

"Hell yeah, I do! Wanna hear them?"

Hitoshu nodded and the raven spent the next few minutes sharing his ideas for a support item. Hitoshi also pitched in some past ideas he had as a kid. Nagai took note of each suggestion for later discussion.

"Oh maybe we should add some volume dial too," Nagai said as they walked across the second level of the general building, which was holding quite a crowd in the hallway. They stopped walking to watch the commotion.

"What's up now?" Hitoshi asked no one in particular. Nagai jumped over the crowd to try and get a peak but was unsuccessful.

The raven shrugged. "Let's push forward and see?"

Hadesu flared up his hair to make other students move out of the way of their own volition, afraid of being burned by his fire, until they reached 1-C.

There was an odd empty space in front of the room, which people looked too afraid to cross into. Hitoshi frowned as he studied the faces of lurking students a few feet away. What were they so interested in?

"Holy shit -" Nagai cursed out and Hitoshi turned to face the person that stood in front of their classroom door.

Hitoshi's breath hitched as he came face to face with a familiar mug. Hadesu's hair nervously spewed yellow flames.

A man in his thirties with disheveled black hair, wearing a ragged black shirt and pants tucked into boots, and a signature wrap scarf, looked down at Hitoshi with tired, indifferent eyes. Eraserhead.

"Hitoshi Shinsou?"

Hitoshi stiffened at his name and stuttered, "Y – That's me."

Eraserhead studied him for a moment, then gestured his head to the hallway. "Come with me."

Everyone in the hero's path quickly made way for him, and Hitoshi followed after him without hesitation.


A million thoughts ran through his mind amidst their silence. He was hopeful, but he also couldn't let himself be swayed by the possibilities. This was everything he'd ever wanted, and yet it felt too good to be true. It's only been three days since he lost the festival. This opportunity shouldn't even be in front of him and yet it was.

This was his chance. His opportunity of a lifetime.

Hitoshi shook off any lingering doubts in his mind and looked ahead. Time to learn to be a hero.

"I hate him, Kurogiri…" Tomura hissed. "I hate him… I don't want him in my party. He's crazy. Why did Sensei want him? I hate him… He almost hurt Father…"

Purple mist swayed in mild annoyance as his charge complained about their newest, and perhaps, unfortunately, lost asset.

The Hero Killer had been of great interest as of late, and All for One wanted to use him to teach Tomura how to utilize other villains' skills for his own gain. The meeting was supposed to pave the way for an alliance between them, but neither liked the other to let the partnership happen.

Stain didn't like how Tomura lacked conviction, while the latter despised Stain for endangering his irreplaceable Father's hand.

Kurogiri managed to avoid any unfavorable deaths, but he did not look forward to the young Villain's tantrums. Whilst he was cleaning Tomura's wounds, Kurogiri's phone suddenly went off.

"Who the fuck keeps texting you?" Tomura snarled through his bandages. "I'm going to dust that shit to pieces if it doesn't stop."

"My apologies, Master Tomura. I shall take this outside." Kurogiri excused himself for a minute then stared at the unfamiliar number. "This is not a good time."

"Ahhh," the voice hummed. "Im guessing it didn't go well?"

"Not quite. Stain and Tomura had… disagreements."

"Are you surprised?"

No, he wasn't.

"It was bound to happen anyway. Stain knows what he wants. It's kept him going for this long just to achieve it.. He wouldn't answer to anyone who's just a villain for the sake of being one."

After what transpired earlier, Kurogiri was inclined to agree. Tomura had no goal, not one he abided by himself at least, and Stain did not believe someone like the former could achieve much.

While he found it true, it was Kurogiri's duty to guide Tomura into becoming someone that can act on his own merits; a villain motivated by a strong conviction that fueled others' loyalty around him.

"Want me to do something about it?"

Kurogiri turned to his ward and watched as Tomura's hands hovered dangerously close to one of the former's favored wine glasses. "Remain on standby. I would like to see how he would handle this."

"Copy that. I've been meaning to ask for a break anyway," the voice conceded. "I also have my other mission to worry about anyway."

"Best of luck." Kurogiri turned off his phone, and returned inside the bar. He pushed a soothing drink in front of Tomura to help him mull over his rage and use it. All for One has always reminded him, them, that untouched anger was a great motivator for success.

"I'm going to kill him…" the younger seethed."Him and All Might, I'll kill everyone…"


A/N: Finally! We're in the Stain/Hosu arc (just 45397 arcs to go before we reach the manga's pace and gdi - Horikoshi finally ends the villain arc).

I wanted to keep the identity of Stain's "recruiter" a secret but I wanted to throw a bone. My pronoun game is still weak and I fear I'm making it a wee bit obvious. Anywho before I end this chapter, I would like to announce that I will be uploading even slower for the next months. I ran out of chapters and need to plan them. Second, I would like to thank everyone who is silently supporting this story by leaving follow/favorite and reviews. Sushi out!