In hindsight, Hitoshi should've known this would be a bad idea.

The only person anywhere near his age he'd interacted with in over a decade was Mei. And they had been friends ever since they were little. In his excitement over training with hero students, he forgot one little detail.

They were all his age. And he had no idea how to interact with people his age.

That wasn't entirely his isolation's fault, he knew. His social skills had always left much to be desired. Mei tried to reassure him that it'd be fine. "They're nice!" she insisted. "Well, most of 'em, anyway! I'm friends with a couple of them! I promise you'll be fine!"

Hitoshi was not convinced. Of the two of them, Mei had always been the best with people. She was outgoing, energetic, and friendly, the kind of person you couldn't help but like. Hitoshi, on the other hand, was quiet, reserved, and a little standoffish. He wasn't the easiest to get along with; certainly no one who was friends with Mei would get along with someone like him.

Just another obstacle he'd have to face to become a hero, he supposed. How was he supposed to face villains if he couldn't even face his peers? He'd been through plenty of worse situations before. This was nothing. He was fine.

God, this was a huge mistake.

Nineteen people seemed like a whole lot more in person than it did on paper. And it had already seemed like a lot when Aizawa told him how many people were in his class. Now that he was standing there in front of them all, he was definitely freaking out.

"This is Shinsou Hitoshi," Aizawa introduced him, to Hitoshi's relief. Words seemed to have escaped thanks to his internal panic. "He'll be joining you all for training." Much of the class erupted into chatter, a few of the clearly more extroverted ones trying to ask Aizawa why a non-hero student was joining them. One with pink skin and hair and another who was blonde with a black streak through it seemed particularly insistent.

"Enough," and with that simple word, the class fell silent. It was almost scary how quickly he could get them all quiet. He's definitely more intimidating as a teacher than at home. "Go get changed into your hero costumes and meet up at the usual training grounds in five minutes." With that, the students quickly clambered out of their seats, chattering loudly about Hitoshi's presence as they rushed to get changed.

Hitoshi knew they weren't saying anything bad about him. Why would they? They didn't know he had a villain's quirk yet. They were just curious about the new guy joining them for training. But Hitoshi couldn't ignore the little voice in his head insisting that they already hated him. That's how it always was before whenever he was the subject of conversation.

Aizawa snapped him out of his racing thoughts by shoving something soft in his hand. Hitoshi frowned in confusion. "A gym uniform," he explained. "Can't make you an actual hero costume until you're in the hero course, unfortunately, but you still need something you can train in."

Hitoshi blinked back tears that were threatening to spill over. "Thank you." His voice was almost a whisper. If he were any louder, he was afraid he might actually start crying. Again. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

He wasn't even entirely sure why the uniform of all things was setting him off. It was just gym clothes, issued to every UA student - not just the hero ones. He supposed it just meant he was that much closer to becoming a hero.

Aizawa's lips quirked into a tiny smile. "Go get changed. I assume you know where the locker room is?" Hitoshi nodded. Nedzu had made sure he knew where everything in the school was. Including things he was pretty sure weren't part of a normal school tour. He was weirdly insistent on Hitoshi being able to find his way through the vents as well as through the halls. "Good. And don't forget you can use your capture scarf if you want." He nodded, turning around and heading out the door.

He made his way into the boy's locker room, garnering everyone's attention. He tried to ignore the staring, reminding himself it was only out of curiosity.

He set his gym clothes down and grabbed the hem of his shirt. Before he could make it any further, though, the loud blonde from earlier was practically in his face with his hand stuck out.

"Hey! Shinsou Hitoshi, right? I'm Kaminari Denki!" Hitoshi just blinked at him in confusion. Kaminari took it upon himself to grab his hand when Hitoshi made no move to do so himself. He frowned for a moment, eyebrows knitting in confusion, but the blinding smile on his face was quickly replaced as he shook Hitoshi's hand wildly. "Nice to meet ya!"

"Dunce Face, leave him the hell alone and get your goddamn clothes on!" Another, much angrier, blonde shouted. "You're wasting time!"

"Yeah, yeah, I am!" he responded, sounding for all the world like a petulant child. He thankfully left Hitoshi after that, though.

He breathed a sigh of relief, beginning to actually change. Finally, he'd get a little bit of peace before he had to train.

Or so he thought, anyway. He paused as he was about to put the gym shirt on, noticing the noisy locker room had suddenly fallen silent. Everyone was staring at him. He shifted uncomfortably under their scrutinizing gazes. What the hell's their problem?

Oh. Hitoshi really should've realized it sooner, but his apprehension about training had occupied his mind far too much for him to notice until now. He berated himself mentally for allowing himself to be so forgetful.

Hitoshi was not exactly in the best shape, though he'd grown used to the people around him knowing it quite well. He'd been eating more and gaining weight slowly but surely, but he was still far from a healthy weight. His body was also littered with scars, most of which were the result of Overhaul's quirk - he may have been able to put Hitoshi together again after he used it, but he was never able to undo all the damage. Or perhaps he just didn't want to. Hitoshi wasn't really sure.

He had plenty of other scars, too. Burns, cuts, you name it, Hitoshi has it. He wasn't entirely sure if anywhere on his body didn't have any scar tissue. There was also the matter of his nails. The nails were far better than they once were, especially after Recovery Girl - as he'd later learned her name was - healed him, but they still had plenty of healing left to do. That explains Kaminari's weird reaction when he grabbed my hand, at least.

"Dude…are you like, okay?" Kaminari asked. "That looks really bad."

Hitoshi frowned, stiffening. This was not a conversation he wanted to have. "Yes. I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" a boy with spiky red hair questioned. "If…something's going on, you really should tell a teacher or something. Someone who could help." They were coming from a good place, but they all clearly had the wrong idea. Hitoshi fought the urge to groan. "Or someone else can do the talking for you. But you really should ask for help, Shinbro!"

He groaned for real this time, trying to resist facepalming despite how tempting it sounded. Shinbro? What the hell? "I really am fine," he insisted, a biting edge to his words. He winced slightly, changing to a softer tone. "It's already been taken care of. Aizawa-sensei knew me already for a reason." God, it feels weird calling him sensei.

He seemed to have reassured them, at least enough that they'd get off his back. Bringing up Aizawa was enough to explain he'd been helped without going into detail. That was good. He didn't think he could handle trying to explain the specifics to them.

He finished changing as quickly as possible and headed out the locker room door, trying and failing to ignore the concerned glances he knew he was getting.

He felt much better once he reached the training grounds and Aizawa began giving instructions. A familiar feeling swept over him, making everything but the task at hand melt away. It was a feeling he had much experience with from his time with Overhaul. Back then, it had been necessary for him to be able to ignore everything - his surroundings, his emotions - in favor of whatever Overhaul wanted him to do. It always turned out badly if he could keep his focus. He had to learn to do it to survive. He knew it probably wasn't good to be reverting to old habits, but the familiarity was comforting, even if it came from a dark place.

"Today, we'll focus on simple one-on-one sparring," Aizawa began. "It'll help you learn each other's moves better and teach you how to better cover up your own weaknesses. Yaoyorozu, Hagakure, you're up first."

A girl with a black ponytail and a person who seemed to be just floating gloves and a pair of boots(?) stepped up. Hitoshi followed the others around him as they moved back.

He kept a watchful eye as they sparred, trying to keep track of all their movements. Yaoyorozu - whose name he learned thanks to the rather loud and obnoxious cheering of some of her classmates - seemed rather intelligent and her quirk was versatile, but she definitely seemed to hesitate at times. Hagakure was quick and stealthy, but seemed to struggle with actually fighting. He was beginning to see what Aizawa meant. This was probably the best way for them to learn the weaknesses, he figured - hands-on, but without any real danger.

The fight drew to an end and Yaoyorozu was declared the winner. Aizawa continued to call names seemingly at random, though Hitoshi admittedly couldn't recall any of them. The fighting itself was far more important than their names. He watched with rapt interest as they each sparred, taking in all the information he could about each of them. So this is what hero training is like, huh?

"Kaminari and Shinsou," Aizawa finally called, jolting Hitoshi out of his trance. Kaminari cheered as he came forward. Hitoshi just raised an eyebrow at him. Where the hell does he get all that energy?

"Begin!" Aizawa's voice called out, prompting Kaminari to immediately go on the offensive. A bolt of electricity came his way, which Hitoshi narrowly dodged. An electric quirk, huh? He could deal with that, especially since Kaminari seemed to be toning it down. It took Hitoshi a minute to figure out why. Ah. Most people don't try to cause serious injuries in spars, do they? It was hard to remember his own training experiences weren't exactly normal.

He'd only just started learning to use the capture weapon, but it turned out to be extremely useful when it came to helping him dodge. It was less so with catching a moving target - in this case, Kaminari - but that was to be expected. He hadn't had much experience with it and it was hard to control. Not to mention the other boy was surprisingly quick on his feet. Hitoshi attributed it to the seemingly endless amount of energy he had.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Aizawa giving him a questioning look, one eyebrow raised. What is he…? Oh. Hitoshi hadn't used his quirk yet. Which was why he'd been working on it with Aizawa in the first place. But he just couldn't bring himself to use it. Every time he tried to speak, the words got caught on his tongue and he couldn't get them out. He just couldn't do it.

He kept dodging as long as he could, but he was tiring much quicker than Kaminari was. He was still weak from years of malnourishment, and though he'd been getting better, he still had a ways to go before he'd be able to match his peers. His exhaustion was catching up with him, and before he knew what was happening, a jolt of electricity struck him.

He felt his muscles spasm and a sort of numb tingling shot through his body. He distantly noted the hair on his arms standing up. In almost an instant, it was all over and he fell to the ground.

Hitoshi picked himself up as quickly as possible, trying to hide the shaking in his knees. Overhaul didn't like weakness. He wouldn't be happy that he let himself get hit like that. He definitely wouldn't like that Hitoshi hadn't used his quirk at all.

Maybe he'd show a little mercy if Hitoshi did what he was told now. He'd face punishment for being weak and disobedient in the first place, but if he acted quickly enough, maybe he'd hurt him less. Maybe he'd only break a couple fingers instead of all of them, or starve him a few days longer instead of disassembling him with his quirk again.

"Thought you got me, huh?" Hitoshi taunted. Confidence was good. Overhaul liked that. As long as it wasn't against him, of course.

His opponent barked out a laugh. "Please. I'm just getting star-" He felt his quirk take hold, like an invisible string connecting their minds, and his enemy suddenly fell silent.

Overhaul was not calling off the fight. He wasn't asking him to do anything specific with his quirk, either. Was Hitoshi supposed to kill this one? He couldn't remember what Overhaul had wanted him to do, but usually when he didn't give him directions, that was what he wanted him to do.

He did his best to ignore the slight tremors in his hands. He hated having to do that. But if he didn't, he knew Overhaul would, and much more painfully. Hitoshi would no doubt be punished, as well. He didn't have a choice.

He couldn't see any weapons, nothing he could use to command them to do the deed themself. Ah. So he was expected to do it himself, then? He didn't think he could handle that, but then, he didn't exactly have an option. He bit his lip harshly, focusing on the pain and the dull taste of blood to prevent himself from crying. He could break down later. He couldn't show weakness right now.

"Get on the ground," Hitoshi ordered, walking closer. If they woke up from the shock, it would be easier to keep them subdued if he already had them on the ground. He pinned their arms with his legs, just in case. Strangulation would probably be the easiest and kindest way to kill them without any weapons on hand. He wasn't even sure if it would be enough to snap them out of his brainwashing. Yes, this was no doubt his best option. He stretched his arms forward, wrapped his hands around their neck and squeezed.

Suddenly Hitoshi was being restrained, pulled off the person beneath him. There was confused shouting around him. What was wrong? Did he guess what Overhaul wanted from him incorrectly?

The cloth around him was replaced by a pair of arms and a voice above him calling his name, and he was abruptly brought back to the present. Aizawa was behind him, holding him in place. He was pretty sure he would've collapsed if he wasn't there. He didn't feel strong enough to stand on his own anymore.

He gasped, looking over to where they'd been fighting before he'd at some point been pulled away. Kaminari was sitting up, looking dazed but thankfully unharmed. A boy with spiky red hair offered him his hand, pulling him to his feet.

Oh, god. He just tried to kill Kaminari. He hadn't realized it was him, but still. He'd thought he'd been getting better. Clearly, he was wrong. How could he have fucked up so badly?

"Shinsou, are you with me? Are you okay?" Aizawa asked from above him. Why was he so worried about Hitoshi? Kaminari was the one he should be focused on. He was the one Hitoshi just tried to-

"Shinsou, can you answer me? It doesn't have to be verbally. I just need to know you're back with me." Hitoshi nodded mutely and Aizawa's arms released him, though a hand moved to clasp his shoulder. He reached up to put a hand on his head, feeling a headache beginning to form alongside the dizziness exhaustion brought, when he noticed a wetness on his face. Oh. He was crying again. When had he even started that?

"Do you need to head home for the day? I could take you, or Hizashi, if you'd prefer him. Nedzu would understand." Hitoshi didn't want to force them to leave because of him, but he didn't think he could stand being here any longer, either. He nodded. "Alright. We can do that. Any preference on who'll take you?" He shook his head. "I'll do it, then. Go get changed and wait near the front for me, okay? I'm going to get someone to fill in for me for now."

Hitoshi hesitantly took a step forward, trying to ignore the looks of the class as he made his way to the locker room. He couldn't have possibly fucked up more. Who was he trying to fool, saying he'd become a hero one day? That was never going to happen. Someone like him could never be a hero.

Everyone was right about him, after all. He really was always destined to be a villain.