Still own nothing. Chapter updates, once again, likely to be sporadic and completely unpredictable. I write when I feel like writing, and I finish when I finish. I often sit with writing documents open for fucking months, just making small additions every now and then. Just right now, I have a document that has an editing time of over 140,000 minutes, which roughly equates to 3 months of it just sitting open, unfinished as I stare at every once in a while. Also, I split this chapter into two chapters, which is why we're having a double upload right now.

Shinsou looked up as Aizawa walked up to the front of the gym wearing his standard hero gear. Shinsou himself was dressed in a bland white t-shirt and baggy grey sweatpants, along with a pair of ratty black tennis shoes.

"I have a question."

Aizawa walked past Shinsou to open the door, and responded in his normal tired tone.

"Go ahead."

"How many people will I save?"

Aizawa paused in the doorway, and turned back to Shinsou, face blank with a hint of mild irritation.

"Does it matter?"

Shinsou looked offended.

"Of course it matters. Why wouldn't saving people matter?"

Aizawa's eyes squinted before he responded coolly, "I'm not talking about saving people, I'm talking about the amount. Does it matter if you save a lot of people? Is only saving a few not good enough?"

Shinsou looked stunned.

Aizawa looked directly into Shinsou's eyes. "Lesson number one; any amount of effort spent saving any amount of people, is worth it. The quantity does not matter; a hero shouldn't care."

With that, Aizawa turned and walked through the door. Shinsou quickly followed.

"Well, then, will I save people?"

Without even turning his head. "…Yes."

Shinsou had to ask.

"Why're you still wearing your hero gear?"

"I was doing hero work before this."

Shinsou blinked and raised an eyebrow.

"Do you ever sleep?"

"When I can."

"Well, that explains the perpetual bags under his eyes."

Once again, they stopped in the center of the gym. Aizawa turned around, and pulled a notepad and stopwatch out of his capture scarf.

"I'm going to make one thing clear before we start. If I believe at any point that your work is unsatisfactory, this training will be over. You will lose your chance at becoming a hero. No second chances, no do-overs."

Shinsou gulped, but stayed looking in Aizawa's eyes.

"Also, if there is anything I should know, say it now. If your parents need you home at a certain time, if you have any medical issues, anything. Once we start, I don't want to hear a word out of you."

Shinsou's eyes squinted a bit before he responded, scratching the back of his neck. "There shouldn't shouldn't be a problem."

"Alright. I'm going to be collecting some data on your performance. We'll start with a quick jog as a warmup. Run laps around the gym until I tell you to stop."

Great, running. There was one thing that Shinsou discovered after he'd started his daily jogging routine, and it was that running sucked.

Aizawa started the stop watch as Shinsou began at a slow pace.

"Okay, steady breaths; in through the mouth, out through the nose. You can do this."

Though Shinsou had been riding his bike for years, he'd never really had amazing cardio.

But, he kept going. It was just a warmup, couldn't be too hard.

"Speed it up."

Aizawa's command was short and concise, leaving no room for argument.

Shinsou's face twisted into mild irritation before he picked his pace up to a moderate jog.

After the third lap, Shinsou's lungs began to burn. Yep, running still sucked.

"Faster."

"Isn't this supposed to be a jog?"

Shinsou picked his pace up to a light sprint.

This was a decent sized gym. Had this always been a decent sized gym? The length just seemed to stretch on painfully.

Shinsou glanced at Aizawa. He was just staring at him intently with his trademark blank frown.

After the fifth lap, his legs started getting tired.

How long was this warmup going to take?

After the seventh lap, sweat was sheening across the entirety of his face. He felt like he was being stabbed in side, and was breathing heavily.

He wanted to stop.

"Has this gym always been this big?! It didn't seem this big! Why is the gym this big?!"

As Shinsou continued, every step became more and more difficult. But, Aizawa hadn't told him to stop yet.

Oh, how badly Shinsou wanted to stop.

Shinsou pushed himself forward. Lap eight, lap nine.

He was panickily gasping for air that didn't seem to reach him. His lungs burnt, his feet hurt, and his calves. Oh, his poor calves. They didn't deserve this.

He was on the verge of collapsing before he heard the sound of glorious salvation.

"Alright, that's enough!"

Shinsou's body weight toppled him down to his knees, where he proceeded to take desperate gulps of much needed oxygen. Precious, taken for granted, oxygen.

Aizawa's feet appearing in his vision. Shinsou looked up, seeing Aizawa's typical disinterested face with a hand reaching toward him.

In his hand he held a water bottle.

Shinsou snatched it before greedily chugging it.

Aizawa proceeded to write something on his clipboard before speaking.

"Let's continue."

Shinsou sputtered with exasperation; couldn't he have a second to rest?

"I can see that look on your face. You'll rest when you're done."

Shinsou coughed before he forced himself up to his aching feet.

"Next, we'll be doing pushups."

How long was this going to go on for?

Four hours.

It hadn't gotten easier after the jogging. It moved onto push-ups, which Shinsou hardly ever did. Once again, Shinsou felt like his arms were about to give way, but right before he dropped, Aizawa told him to stop.

The cycle continued afterwards. Squats, side-to-side jumps, jumping jacks, crunches. Every muscle group was worked out. Every time, Aizawa told him to go until he was told to stop. Every time, right before he dropped from sheer overexertion, Aizawa allowed him to stop.

Much to Shinsou's dismay, the workout reset. After he was done with his last agonizing workout, he was told to run again. After that, more push-ups. Every workout was repeated. Every time, he felt less and less able to get up.

He took a quick break to eat a few provided granola bars and chug some of his second water bottle, but the workouts resumed right after.

In the end, Shinsou's entire body felt like a metaphorical weight. Each limb was limp and useless. Hair matted to his head from sweat, his t-shirt hugging his chest, a light tap of dripping liquid running down his strands.

His disposition was not improved by Aizawa's unimpressed observations.

"Your performance is sub-par. I thought you'd need work, but this is ridiculous. Have you ever worked out before?"

"Yes! I've been going to the gym, I've been jogging, I've been trying!"

But Shinsou couldn't voice his thoughts. He was too exhausted. Too disillusioned. Too dejected. He thought it would be hard, but this was… devastating.

If he couldn't do a simple exercise, how hopeless was he?

Aizawa stared at his red face for a moment before he went back to his clipboard.

"I expect improvement by the end of the week."

With that, he left Shinsou to drag himself to his feet and stumble across the school to his bike.

On his way home, he fell off his bike four times before he adjusting to his new jellified state. Not to mention how all of that water he'd drank had gone right through him.

Getting to his apartment building, he parked his bike in the bike rack outside, and with a grimace over his newly acquired scrapes, walked up the stairs on wobbly legs, down the hall, and entered his apartment.

It was small, but it had the essentials. A bath, a kitchen, and a living room which doubled as a bedroom.

After getting done with usual chores, which were made extra hard by just how exhausted he was, making some food, and showering to get rid of the body odor that was beginning to make its appearance, he was finally able to rest.

Later that night, Shinsou laid down with his new bruises and tired body, and, in a rare turn of events, went to sleep almost instantly, dreading the next day.

"It'll get easier, Shinsou. You'll adjust. You can do this; you can make it. It doesn't matter what anyone else says; you can prove them wrong. Tomorrow will be better."

(Tuesday)

Tomorrow was not better.

Shinsou awoke with his muscles screaming at him. Even the small movements to get out of bed sent ripples of torturous tingles throughout his body.

He realized he'd overslept and had no time to make himself breakfast, nor take a desperately needed shower to soothe his aching body.

When he got to the gym, Aizawa chastised him for being late. Ten minutes late to be exact.

"If you aren't going to take this seriously, then don't bother showing up at all," Aizawa said with squinted eyes.

"I am taking this seriously! I just overslept, it won't happen again!" Shinsou pleaded with his mentor.

Aizawa stared at him(he'd been doing an awful lot of that, and Shinsou was beginning to believe it was some kind of intimidation tactic meant to make him nervous, and it worked), before sternly telling him not to repeat the performance.

"Start running."

What followed was to come close to being Shinsou's most pathetic day of his life.

During running, he could barely reach half of what he'd done the day before. The trend followed him throughout the other exercises as well. Whether Aizawa decided to cut him some slack or simply pitied him, Shinsou didn't know; either way he didn't mention Shinsou's complete lack of energy.

He had the good graces to be given some granola bars after his stomach started throwing a tantrum, and a water bottle or two after the workouts, but other than that, Aizawa was unrelenting in his repeated punishment of Shinsou's body.

Rather than falling to his hands and knees like yesterday, Shinsou went the extra mile of falling flat onto his face at the end of another four-hour pain session. The smack of the padding against his face caused a light sting; the cherry on top of a myriad of other miseries.

Shinsou's pleading gasps were interrupted by Aizawa's smooth drawl.

"Tomorrow, don't be late, and for the sake of decency, eat breakfast before you come here," Aizawa turned and started walking, "I don't want to see you shoveling down granola bars like that ever again."

The dry humour was lost on Shinsou, who had been focusing on trying to get his breathing level. He continued to lay flat for another minute before getting up and limping his way to where he'd left his bike, not noticing a tall bedraggled figure watching him right up until he painfully pedaled away.

When Shinsou finally laid down to sleep, he stopped himself. If he overslept again, Aizawa would surely stop the training. But… the mattress felt so good.

Closing his eyes, Shinsou breathed a fleeting sigh of relief.

(Wednesday)

Running, sprinting, Shinsou ignored the dull throbbing of his legs as he made his way into the gym where Aizawa was waiting.

"Please don't be late, please don't be late, please don't be late."

Shinsou stopped to catch his breath right as he made it into the gym.

He looked up to see Aizawa's furious quirk addled gaze.

"I told you not to be late!"

Shinsou looked at a clock on the wall.

Nine.

Nine fucking o'clock.

A full goddamn hour late.

"I-It won't happen again, Sensei," said Shinsou as he trembled.

Aizawa's fury didn't diminish as he spoke. "You're right, it won't, because this training is over."

Shinsou's stomach dropped.

He screamed. "Please, Sensei! I'll show up an hour early for the rest of the week, and stay an hour later!"

"So you want me to cut into my time, because you can't stick to a simple schedule?

"It's no wonder you lost at the Sports Festival. Nobody as pathetic as you could ever cut it in my class."

Shinsou stared in abject horror as Aizawa spoke.

"Shinsou Hitoshi… you will never be a hero."

Shinsou's eyes widened as he yelled in emotional agony. "NOOOOOOO!"

Shinsou jolted up in his bed with a gasp, panickedly looking around, before he lunged for his phone to check the time.

4:37 A.M.

"Just a nightmare? …just a nightmare."

A horrible horrible nightmare, but ultimately, just a nightmare. A figment of Shinsou's anxiety riddled brain.

With his mind full of panic, and a heart pumping adrenaline, Shinsou realized he wouldn't be getting any more sleep tonight.

So, he sat there until his adrenaline died down and his body's pain began to catch up with him.

When his charging phone told him that it was about time for him to get up and get ready, he eerily blinked away whatever remnants of tears and sleepiness he had.

The soreness was worse than yesterday. He got up to make himself breakfast with whatever he could find in the kitchen. He followed it up with a long shower, and left the house.

Shinsou checked his phone. 7:45. Early was decidedly better than late in Shinsou's mind. So, he sat against the wall and looked at his phone

Fifteen minutes later, Aizawa walked up to the gym.

"Early this time." His tone sounded amused.

Shinsou smiled slightly for the first time this week.

"Yeah, well, I didn't want to be late again, so I just got up earlier than I normally do."

Aizawa walked past Shinsou's sitting place to open the door and walk in. "Try not to anymore. I appreciate the dedication, but a hero should be a model of efficiency. Never a moment too late or too early. In our line of work, any wasted time could mean a wasted life."

Shinsou painstakingly got up to follow Aizawa into the building. It might not be the most efficient way to do things, but right now.

The day followed the standard precedent, with Shinsou ultimately ending up with exploding lungs and spasming limbs.

"Don't forget, I expect improvement by the end of the week."

Is it even possible to improve within a week? Maybe. With an eternally sore body and no hope of a decent night's rest? Unlikely.

Later that night, Shinsou set an alarm on his phone. Something he hadn't done for years. He was used to just waking up when he needed to. His internal clock had always been on-point. But, desperate times called for desperate measures.

The alarm didn't stop him from waking up several times during the night.

(Thursday)

Aizawa seemed angry about something today, if the way he barked orders more aggressively indicated anything.

So, when Shinsou was done coughing what remained of his lungs out, he decided to carefully prod as to what had gotten the underground hero so on-edge.

"Aizawa, Sensei… are you upset with me or something?"

Aizawa blinked at him.

"No. What made you think that?"

Shinsou scratched the back of his head, an action which in itself caused his muscles and joints to flare in pain and make him wince.

"Well, you seem agitated today."

Aizawa just stared at him.

"You shouldn't concern yourself with my problems, but, if you must know, it has reached my ear that a few problem children have somehow managed to cause more problems than even I anticipated."

Shinsou rubbed his neck nervously. "So… nothing to do with me."

"You, so far, have not qualified as a problem child. So, no, nothing to do with you."

That made Shinsou at least a little bit happy. About as happy as a fifteen-year-old boy with a perpetually aching body and a quickly diminishing time window with which to improve could possibly be.

Riding home, he figured at least he wasn't on Aizawa's bad side yet.

As he was about two blocks from his house, after having crashed his bike into two different trees after he started dozing off while riding, his goddamn front bike wheel broke. After Shinsou got up from being flung ass over elbows into the pavement, he inspected the old bike to see that the wheel, after having received punishment aplenty this week, had snapped in half due to a couple cracks that had formed.

"Well, isn't that just fucking great," Shinsou muttered angrily, rubbing his face into his hands.

After limping home with scraped knees and elbows, he chained his bike to the bike rack, where it would likely be staying for a while until Shinsou somehow managed to get a replacement wheel.