Chapter 4: To Revisit the Past (Ep. 13-15)
When Hitoshi was eight, his parents died in a tragic accident. At least, that's what they told him.
They were headed home late one night, coming from a charity benefit his father got invited to. He was a well-respected neurosurgeon, one of the best in Tokyo, and often attended many events to show his support for the community. His mother, a successful playwright, didn't want to go; she always claimed the people at those benefits were insufferable. Hitoshi didn't want them to go either, begging them desperately to stay at home. But, in the end, they got in the car, leaving him with the babysitter. His father hugged him tight before he left, and his mother kissed his cheek and nose.
They never made it home.
Hitoshi, despite the babysitter's orders, stayed up late that night, hoping to see his parents one last time before he went to bed. It wasn't very hard for him. Ever since he was little, putting him to sleep was always been a constant struggle, and nothing the doctors prescribed helped. As a toddler, they assumed he was just showing signs of his father's quirk — a neurological quirk that made his brain relentlessly hyperactive, so he never mentally felt tired. It wasn't until later, when later presented with brainwashing, that they finally diagnosed him with chronic insomnia. So he was wide awake when the flashing lights pulled up to his house at around one o'clock in the morning. He ran downstairs and threw the door open just before the police officers could knock. They stared at him in shock, and he just gazed back.
"Um, hello, kiddo. Is there an adult here for us to talk to?" asked the woman officer. Before he could answer, his babysitter ran to the door, not so subtly trying to shove him out of the way.
"Hitoshi, what did I say about getting out of bed?" she scolded. Hitoshi didn't respond. His babysitter always got really mad when he did.
"Are you this child's guardian, ma'am?" the male officer asked.
She nodded wildly. "Ah, yes. I'm his sitter."
The officers nodded as they exchanged suspicious glances. "Ma'am, we have some pressing information we need to share with you. Would it be alright if we came in?"
His babysitter nodded slowly, backing up as she opened the door. "Yes, of course."
The officers gave their thanks as they stepped inside. Hitoshi backed up to the corner, eyeing them wearily. His babysitter's hands trembled as she closed the door
"Is- Is something wrong, officers?" she asked.
"I'm afraid so. Would it be alright if the boy left the room first? I'm not sure it's appropriate for him to hear this yet," the female officer said. His babysitter nodded stiffly and grabbed his arm, dragging him out of the room and whispering harshly in his ear to stay in his bedroom. The moment she left, Hitoshi pressed his ear to the door.
"There's been an accident. We got a call about an hour ago about a car found in a ditch. When we arrived at the scene, the driver and Mrs. Shinsou already passed. Mr. Shinsou was unresponsive and in severe critical condition. He's at the hospital being treated now, but the doctors are grim."
"Oh- Oh my-" his babysitter choked. "What…what happened to them?"
"It's unclear as of now, but the detectives at the scene said there were no obvious signs of foul play. It was likely an accident. We'll need you and the child to come in for questioning as soon as possible, though."
"Yes, yes, of course. Let me just grab some things."
He heard his nanny approach his room again, and Hitoshi scrambled back just before the door flung open. It was obvious she knew he was eavesdropping, but unlike usual, she didn't get mad. Instead, she grabbed his arm and a pair of shoes and pulled him outside. The officers gave them a ride to the hospital, offering their condolences.
Hitoshi never said a word.
-.-.-.-
Though they never officially found evidence of specific cause, it was later classified as an accident; the detectives claimed it was likely just another tragic case of drivers falling asleep behind the wheel. His father came out of surgery alive but in a coma, and had to be put on life support. The doctors said his brain activity showed hope that he might wake up one day.
Hitoshi held to that hope like a lifeline.
After the accident, he stopped talking. The only sound he made were chest-heaving sobs when they handed him his mother's ashes. He didn't say goodbye to his babysitter when she packed up and left him alone in the empty house. He didn't protest when the police picked him up and sent him off to social services. He didn't voice his outrage when the social worker told him his few living relatives declined to take him in, claiming his quirk was way too dangerous. He didn't tell the movers to stop when they packed up his house, separating personal items to go into storage while the rest was auctioned off.
And as he rode off to his new foster home with nothing but a box of belongings, a suitcase of clothes, and a photo book with all the pictures found in the house that a police officer was kind enough to make for him, Hitoshi didn't say a word. He let it all fester inside him each silent passing day.
It was no real surprise he finally snapped; his suppressed voice — and by default, quirk — told a particularly annoying foster brother to go eat rocks, and the boy obeyed, shattering more than half of his baby teeth. He was transferred to a new home the next day, beginning a never-ending cycle. He no longer had a place to call home or a family to love. His father showed no signs of improvement, and every visit to his mother's family shrine only made his heart that much heavier.
And with every day that passed, he grew a little more alone.
-.-.-.-
Needless to say, when Takaoka Akira showed up with a basket of sweets and started referring to himself as their 'dad', Hitoshi was more than weary. Apparently, the government felt it necessary to give Karasuma some time off as their P.E. teacher, so they sent in a substitute.
"Hey, kiddos, don't you want a sweet too? I've got plenty!" Takaoka said, annoyingly cheerful as he loomed over E-class. Hitoshi purposely sat off to the side, away from the uncomfortable display, and was playing on his phone absentmindedly. "You, with the phone! Gotta hurry before they're all gone!"
Hitoshi barely glanced up. "I'm good," he said dismissively. A shadow fell upon on his screen, and Takaoka leaned over and put a hand on his shoulder, centimeters from his neck. Hitoshi tensed, shoulders crunching toward his ears.
"Well, feel free to grab some any time, okay? Don't want you to go hungry!" said the man, voice sweeter than honey. The same tone his first group home leader got before throwing him in a closet.
After going through as many foster and group homes as he was years old, Hitoshi's met enough adults who sang on and on about how much they 'cared,' and it was always fake, always a trick to get others guards down and hide their malicious hearts. Takaoka practically reeked of it.
And just like that, Takaoka left, returning to his spot among the main group and chatting amicably with them. Hitoshi's hand drifted up, brushing over where Takaoka grabbed. Just a little to the left, and he would've grabbed the same spot as Hitoshi's third foster father. The man's biological daughter kept stabbing him with her needle quirk, baiting him to speak, and when he finally screamed at her to stop, his quirk slipped up. It was only for a second, and Hitoshi released her immediately, but it was enough. A rough hand slammed him into the wall, the other wrapping around his-
Stop. You're not there. He's not here.
His breath stuttered, his lungs struggling just as much as his mind to differentiate memory from reality, and it physically pained him to keep his face neutral. Right. His third foster father wasn't here. He wasn't here...but Takaoka was. And Hitoshi's instincts — the defenses that kept him alive over all these years — struggled to tell the difference.
-.-.-.-
They were in P.E. class when Takaoka hit Midoriya.
It was like Okajima triggered his quirk, freezing the world around them for just a moment. Maybe he did. Hitoshi clearly saw the twisted shock morphing friend's face; watched Takaoka's face curl with a barbaric glee as he slapped Midoriya to the floor. The quirkless boy had tried to object and argue that Takaoka's training regimen was too biased and militaristic for middle schoolers, and the large man made his opinion of such protests clear.
"Midoriya!" Nagisa cried out as he rushed to the boy's side. Takaoka shifted into Hitoshi's third foster father, except now Hitoshi knew how to defend himself. He was stronger, no longer a little boy too scared to get in an abuser's face and fight back. He moved directly between them, forcing Takaoka back a step.
"Get. Back."
Takaoka tilted his head slightly, an unhinged gleam in his eye. "Oh? You should know better than to give your daddy orders like that, little boy," he said, licking his lips. Hitoshi reached for the strings on his mind, not even caring if he blatantly exposed his quirk for the whole class-
But Takaoka was faster. He grabbed the brainwasher by the back of his neck and forced his face to the ground. And all that fight, all that strength he felt vanished. His already minimal energy levels drained, a leech sucking away with greed. His muscles went lax, and he felt eight years old again, cornered in the kitchen while his first foster mother gripped his head and forced soap in his mouth after making his foster brother eat rocks. He was back in elementary school, getting circled by bullies and pushed around like a pinball until he fell face-first into mud. He was a scared twelve-year-old, locked out in the cold after getting a B- in history. He felt how he did when Tomayo Seo reported him, humiliating him as he moved down to E-class.
Pathetic. Useless. Weak.
His body collapsed under its own weight and he collapsed, face smashed into the dirt. Takaoka's mocking laughter lingered even as the man walked away. Hitoshi just barely had the strength to lift his head, catching a glimpse of Takaoka, his muscles doubled in size and condescending smirk leaving the class quaking in fear.
"Anyone else have something they'd like to say? C'mon, we're a family! Don't be afraid to speak up!"
No one spoke up. No one even dared breathe. The sociopathic man beamed.
"Good. 200 push-ups, now!"
-.-.-.-
Takaoka worked them for hours, making them exercise past the level of professional athletes. Anyone who fell behind was immediately disciplined. His quirk allowed him to temporarily take strength from others when he touched their skin, so he would steal a student's energy just to make them get up again and work. If they took too long, he would hit them with all his — and their — strength. Korosensei tried to interfere but found his hands tied since it technically wasn't his responsibility to teach physical education. Their only hope was Karasuma, but he was being oddly passive throughout the whole ordeal.
Then finally, right before Takaoka hit poor Kurahashi, Karasuma stepped in, grabbing the larger man's arm and pinning it behind his back, leather gloves protecting him from Takaoka's quirk.
"That's enough. I won't let you hurt my students anymore," Karasuma bit. The larger man just cackled.
"What? Don't like it when you're not the one running the show, huh?" he mocked before yanking his arm free. "How about this? I'll let you pick two star-students to fight me — with real weapons of course. You don't kill men with flimsy toys — and we'll see whose training is superior. I'll even play nice and fight weaponless."
The man pulled out two gleaming metal knives, and Hitoshi's adrenaline spiked, mind screaming to run away. This crossed a line — a line firmly established since the day Korosensei arrived and the military and Hero Commission supplied them with artificial knives and bullets. No real weapons, no real injuries. Because Takaoka was a crazy, sadistic bastard that got off harming children, he wanted to abuse that by forcing Karasuma into this impossible position. Giving him no choice but to put two students in harm's way to protect the rest of the class from Takaoka's cruelty. Karasuma scanned the class, a grave seriousness in his eyes. Karma (wisely) ditched school, disliking Takaoka from the start, and losing them their best fighter. After that was probably Isogai and Maehara when it came to knife work, or maybe even Okano—
"Shinsou and Midoriya."
...well now that just didn't make any sense. Sure, Midoriya, maybe, but until a few weeks ago, Hitoshi skipped out on P.E. training any chance he got. No way Karasuma considered him a star student. He must've misspoken. He spent so much time but time with Midoriya these days, it was easy to mistake them for a bundled pair.
Karasuma moved in front of them, and reality settled in. Midoriya swayed, pale and faint. "S-S-Sir?"
"Wha — you've gotta be kidding, Karasuma-sensei!" Okajima said, and his classmates echoed his shock, Hitoshi included. Their teacher pressed his lips, firm on his decision.
"I've seen you two practice sparring together before school the past few weeks, and you're improvement is undeniable, as well as your teamwork. I know I'm asking a lot, and the game changes the moment the weapon is lethal. But you two are our best shot," their teacher said, holding a knife out to both of them. Hitoshi trembled as his fingers curled around the hilt. The knife was much heavier than their anti-sensei counterparts. It felt odd, it felt wrong...but in a way, it also felt right.
And that's what scared him the most.
"Ac-Actually, Karasuma-sensei," Midoriya said, staring intently at the weapon. "I'm honored you would think of me, but I think Nagisa would do better than me."
"WHAT?" many of the students shouted at the same time. Nagisa face went completely blank.
"Explain, Midoriya," Karasuma demanded. Midoriya, face now bright red, shuffled his feet and fumbled with the knife.
"Well, we all know that Takaoka can steal your strength so long as he touches your skin. So, in reality, he just needs to get close enough to hit you, which would explain why he wants us to fight with a combat knife. My...I don't have a quirk, uh, suited to help me with that, but Nagisa does. Combine that with Shinsou's special weapon—"
"Special weapon?" someone echoed.
"—and they're sure to succeed!"
They turned back who Nagisa, who scratched the back of his head self-consciously. "I'm not so sure. My misdirection quirk doesn't really work when the person already knows I'm there. It mainly works so I go undetected."
"But it's more than that!" Midoriya said, flailing his arms dangerously. "I've been thinking about it for a while. You said your quirk makes you forgettable, and that's how you've been able to surprise attack people, but are also times when the person is watching you approach and you still surprise them. I don't think your quirk is Misdirection at all, Nagisa! I think it's some kind of manipulation quirk."
Everyone else looked at Midoriya like he was crazy, but Hitoshi surprised himself by actually catching on. "Like empathetic self-projection..." he expounded. "You can make people feel about you however you want. It was probably misdiagnosed as Misdirection because your self-esteem is so low, so you made everyone want to overlook you."
"You don't need to be so blunt, Shinsou…" Nagisa said, face drooping. Hitoshi blinked. Was there something wrong with what he said? He wasn't wrong.
"I see what you're saying," Karasuma mumbled, interrupting the drama. "The only way to take him down is by catching him off guard, and that's hard to do when you're sparring. If Nagisa can force him to lower his defenses, and Shinsou takes the shot to capture him, then maybe we have a shot."
Nagisa still looked unconfident (and for good reason. He was, after all, being told that everything he thought about his quirk was a lie), so Midoriya just held out the knife to him expectantly. Nagisa hesitated, but after a quiet whisper of reassurance, he reached out to take the weapon. He met Hitoshi's eyes, and the brainwasher slipped on his capture rings with a smirk to feign confidence.
"C'mon, Nagisa," he drawled. "Death awaits."
-.-.-.-
It didn't dawn on Hitoshi that their entire plan was contingent upon an unproven theory until he was steps away from their enemy.
"Finally decided on your challengers, huh?" Takaoka mocked. "Interesting choices. Looks like the little green one handed me a quick victory with this lineup."
Rolling his eyes, Hitoshi turned to his partner with a nod of assurance as he put his own knife away. "Go get him, Blue's Clues. I'll be back here to tie the monster up."
Nagisa nodded, anxiety projecting so strong it curdled in Hitoshi's stomach. Maybe Midoriya's theory wasn't that unfounded after all. Nagisa closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, a careless smile on his face, Hitoshi's entire mood swung like whiplash. The curdling anxiety vanished, replaced with a warm, calming blanket, enveloping him in a hug. It told him not to fear, forcing his defenses lower. Hitoshi hasn't felt this way...since the last time his father hugged him, hours before the accident. And there's no way he would feel it here, so close to Takaoka, unless someone forced him to.
Hitoshi scrambled to build up his own mental barricade to this uncanny feeling as Nagisa started approach. He slinked up, arms swinging at his sides, beaming grin on his face. Takaoka was dumbstruck of any change, utterly aware of the danger that approached.
And then it snapped, that blanket ripped away, revealing a horrifying snake underneath it the whole time. Nagisa lunged, slashing his knife. Takaoka recoiled, and that's when Nagisa slipped behind him, digging his knife into his jugular. Even with his small mental barricade, Hitoshi struggled to move, his body fighting against crippling terror. He flicked out his hands, the capture string wrapping around Takaoka's arms. The man cried out but was too paralyzed by fear to even struggle. In a matter of seconds, the monster was bound to the floor and blubbering as the two teens held him down, Nagisa's knife unrelenting.
"I win," Nagisa said with lighthearted cheer. All of their classmates and even their teachers gaped like they couldn't believe they actually won. Frankly, Hitoshi could barely believe it himself.
As Korosensei stepped in to take away their weapons, lecturing on the danger of real knives, Hitoshi released his capture strings and marched over to Midoriya, who was looking much too stunned despite being the mastermind of the operation.
"I'm calling it," Hitoshi declared. "There's no way you're quirkless. You sure you don't have an analytical or intelligence quirk, like Karma?"
His friend laughed bashfully and scratched the back of his head. "Got the foot x-rays to prove it."
Hitoshi hummed, still not convinced. He was about to press for more information rushed to his feet with a yell, lashing out to take multiple students' strength at once. His muscles grew so much they almost tore his shirt, and the man let out an inhuman roar.
"You dare treat your father like this? I'm the only chance you have at saving the world! Your precious teacher is too soft and never takes the necessary risks to succeed. Did he tell you he graduated first in his class at U.A.? He was the most promising student to become a Pro-Hero, won the Sports Festival three years in a row, and now look at him! Just a dog for the military!"
Hitoshi blinked, not sure what to occupy his brain with: the revelation that Karasuma attended his dream school, and was the best in his class nonetheless, or the raging monster in front of him.
Takaoka bared his teeth at them. "I oughta rip you all apart, just so he can watch and realize what a failure he is!"
Just before Takaoka could hold true to his word, Karasuma came out of nowhere and easily knocked the man onto his back. "I'm afraid I can't let that happen. Rest assured, kids, I'm going to take up what has happened here with our superiors and have Takaoka removed as soon as possible."
Takaoka wailed profanities and complaints, and Hitoshi contemplated brainwashing the man shut him up when a hand grasped his shoulder and lightly pushed him out of the way.
"I don't believe any of that will be necessary," said a deep, charismatic voice.
Hitoshi's blood turned to ice, and the spot on his shoulder, even after the person stopped touching him, blazed hotter than any fire. Chills shot down his spine, paralyzing his entire body. He didn't have to look to see who it was.
Principal Asano.
-.-.-.-
Though he was aggravatingly acquainted with his son, Hitoshi didn't meet Principal Asano until the baseball game. Midoriya ran back to the dugout to grab one of his infamous journals when the man approached him from behind, catching him off guard.
"What an interesting display this all was," the man said, voicing raising the hair on his skin. "The ants taking over the animal kingdom. Quite shocking, the disgusting display of it all. And I must say, your performance was particularly intriguing. How you managed to rile up my star pupil, well, it almost eludes me."
Hitoshi knew he shouldn't, something prompted him to look up, meeting the man's purple eyes. They were glowing, practically confirming his and Midoriya's speculations about his quirk. He tried to tear his eyes away, but the principal reached out and grabbed his shoulder, distracting him from all thoughts of preservation aa he just froze.
"Ah, yes, I remember you now," the principal hummed. "Shinsou Hitoshi, kicked down to E-class for disciplinary issues with his quirk. Before, you always managed to stay directly in the middle of the pack, despite your fascinating abilities. Son of an accomplished doctor and an affluent poet; of course, none of that matters now, does it? Your family's wealth legally your father's medical bills, but you can't access it personally until you are eighteen. So unfortunate."
And now Hitoshi understood how he manipulated people so easily. He got inside their heads, literally, to the point where you could feel him shifting inside for the information he wanted. It's terrifying and degrading; all the walls he's spent years building, the secrets he's worked to keep, just taken down in seconds. He recalled, distantly, Midoriya speculating why Bitch-sensei's quirk didn't affect him, and how it might relate to Hitoshi's mental capacity being stronger because of his superior quirk. Maybe that theory expanded beyond mind control quirks? There was no better time to test it out.
Hitoshi reached into his mind, shoving the foreign presence out of his way and grabbing the strings usually used to tie down other people. He knotted them, weaving a web so dense that there was no way to slip passed, all while staring down Principal Asano. The principal's eyebrows furrowed, the glow in his eyes dimming. He regained himself just as quickly, however, eyelids flaring as the glow in his eyes began to swirl.
"Don't think you can play games with me, boy," he said dangerously. Hitoshi could feel the man attacking the reinforcements in his brain, ripping it apart thread by thread, and though Hitoshi to repair it, they disintegrated by the second. Out of pure desperation, he tore his gaze away, actual pain pricking his eyes like needles as he felt the principal forcibly yanked out of his brain. The needle-like pain exploded there next, a sudden migraine stabbing through him. Hitoshi gritted his teeth in agony as the principal lowered to Hitoshi's height. The boy slammed his shut his eyes, but that didn't stop the principal from whispering in his ear.
"It doesn't matter how strong you may be, little Hitoshi," the principal drawled. "In the end, I am the master here, and you are nothing but a dog on a leash. I am the one who controls you."
And with that, the man stood up straight again, meticulously fixing his suit. Before he walked away, he paused, staring down patronizingly.
"Oh, and if you don't believe me, don't forget I know that a thin thread keeps your father alive. It would be a shame if something happened to him after all these years of waiting."
-.-.-.-
Principal Asano fired Takaoka and literally made the man run away screaming and crying. And as the manipulative principal left in his typical fashion, Hitoshi contemplated doing the same.
Despite it all, Karasuma was reinstated as their physical education teacher, and their class returned to its normal level of chaos. Some may consider it closer to anarchy, but for them, it was just another day as an E-class assassin.
-.-.-.-
Shinsou wasn't a particularly big fan of water, so while he appreciated the sentiment when their teacher created then their own swimming hole, he chose to sit off to the side in the shade and just watch. Korosensei perched himself in a chair and blew his lifeguard whistle obnoxiously for every little thing. He was preoccupied with scolding Yoshida for dunking Takebayashi when an unidentifiable blur shot out of the water, aimed right for him. The octopus squealed pathetically and just barely dodged out of the way. His screeching only increased, however, when the blur crashed back into the water, splashing him thoroughly.
All movement ceased before Kataoka surfaced out of the water, flicking her — tail?
"Whoa, Kataoka! You're a mermaid?" Yada fawned, staring at the blue-green fish tail that practically blended in with the water. The scales cut off at her waist and picked up again mid-torso, covering her chest, shoulders, and upper back. Hitoshi blinked multiple times. Yeah, this was not an E-class demoting quirk.
"IWell, that is what my quirk designation form calls it," Kataoka chuckled. "It's actually a transformation quirk, but it's only activated when I'm submerged in water. It lets me breathe underwater and swim at lightning speeds. I was hoping I'd be fast enough to catch Korosensei…"
The class swarmed Kataoka to admire her quirk. Okajima looked strangely constipated. "Where do your clothes go…" the pervert asked, earning him a well-deserved smack by Kataoka's tail.
"A brilliant assassination attempt, nonetheless!" Korosensei said, breaking up the drama. "Though, if you don't mind, I would appreciate it if it involved a little less splashing next time."
The students turned their heads, ever so slowly, realizing just how awfully...swollen their teacher looked. Their gears turned ever so slowly.
"You can't get wet?!"
-.-.-.-
Hitoshi wasn't exactly fond of Terasaka and his little gang. In fact, if they weren't united under the bond of fellowship through assassination, he knew for a fact he would downright despise the lion boy. He represented everything Hitoshi held a grudge against: brawny meatheads who thought anyone without an offensive physical quirk was weak and useless. So when the juvenile punk challenged the class to join him in some whack assassination attempt at the new pool after class, Hitoshi was dead set on not even lifting a finger to help. Terasaka refused to assist in any of their past joint attempts in killing Korosensei; he was just returning the favor.
Hitoshi was, however, totally down to stand on the sidelines and watch it all fail.
"You seem awfully confident in this embarrassingly obvious assassination attempt," he observed from his perch on a rock behind Terasaka. The lion boy roared orders at their classmates in the water the entire time, making them do all the heavy lifting. "You do realize there's, like, zero chance of this succeeding. Korosensei would never just let you push him in the water."
Terasaka growled. "Shut up, you eggplant freak! If you're just going to be a pain in the ass and not help, you can leave."
"Oh, no, I'm good. I take extreme pleasure in witnessing the humiliation of others, actually. One of my many kinks."
Terasaka made it too easy. Stupid and hotheaded — the perfect target for condescending smartasses. Hitoshi couldn't help it.
"What, not a fan of an audience, Terasaka? We just wanted to witness the brilliant plan that would bring an end to Korosensei, that's all," Karma mocked. He too had opted out of assisting and sat on the rock next to Hitoshi.
Terasaka bared his sharp teeth at the devilish duo and returned to yelling at his classmates down below. It wasn't long before Korosensei finally showed up, green-striped and cocky. Hitoshi settled back, eager for the show.
But then Terasaka pulled out a strange-looking gun and pulled the trigger, and instead of shooting a bullet, a loud explosion echoed. In seconds, the dam creating the pool crumbled, sweeping his classmates away with it. Korosensei took off, frantically plucking students out of the raging river. Hitoshi stood up and ran to the edge, powerless compared to the water's strength. He saw Midoriya's head bobbing in and out, the boy gasping for air as he struggled to stay afloat. Kataoka tried to swim against the tide to rescue those around her, but not even her tail was strong enough to fight against the current. They were all helplessly headed for the waterfall, and Hitoshi couldn't do a thing about it.
More furious than he's ever been in his life — even more when Takaoka hit Midoriya — Hitoshi spun around punched Terasaka straight to the ground.
"What the hell was that?!" he spat, grabbing the boy's collar and rearing back to punch him again. Terasaka raised his furry palms up defensively.
"I…I didn't know! Th-They didn't tell me," he sputtered, looking genuinely scared and utterly clueless. Hitoshi sneered, tightening his grip on the shirt.
"Who's they?!"
"It was Itona and that Shiro dude! They made a deal with me, but Itona was just supposed to help me push the octopus in, I swear!"
"You never had a plan, huh?" Karma asked, appearing next to Hitoshi's side. He pulled the brainwasher back, forcing him to let Terasaka go. "You just let yourself be a pawn in a game of chess without knowing who your true opponent was."
"They played me for an idiot, okay? I never knew this was going to happen — I wouldn't have helped them if I did! This wasn't my plan!"
Karma, calm and controlled as ever, just punched Terasaka in the face himself. "Well, idiot. It may not be your plan, but now it is your responsibility. So you can sit here and sulk, or you can man up and figure out how to fix this."
-.-.-.-
Korosensei was saving the last few students when Itona struck, knocking the now-soaked octopus out of the air. The students went flying, and Hitoshi barely reacted in time with his capture invention. They wrapped around Midoriya's wrist and waist and retracted, pulling him back to land. When he came within reach, Hitoshi grabbed Midoriya's arms and steadied him.
"Tha-Than-k-k-ks-" Midoriya gasped. Hitoshi wrapped an arm around Midoriya's shoulders to help him stand.
"You can thank me later, Jolly Green. I think there are more pressing matters right now," he said, eyeing the battle below. Their teacher's tentacles were red and puffy due to the water, and his usual mucus couldn't protect him because of a strange chemical bomb Terasaka set off earlier that week. That, plus his attention still divided between rescuing those last few students who were holding on for dear life, and it seemed like Korosensei might actually be killed.
Hitoshi was not okay with it. He was two hundred percent done with Itona and his annoying handler, Shiro, interfering with everything, and it was high time someone finally showed them why you don't mess with 3-E's target.
"Turnip-Head. Devil-Boy," Terasaka said, sneering down at the battle below. "You two always seem to think you're so smart. Well, like you said, I'm not good at anything but being a pawn in someone else's game. You guys be the brain, and I'll be the brawn."
"This is a pretty sudden change of heart," Hitoshi argued. "How do we even know we can trust you?"
"C'mon, man. I'm offering to be a puppet and let you be the puppet master. Just help me out here so I can fix this mess!"
Hitoshi cocked his head to the side, exchanging glances with Karma. Well, if there was one thing he was good at, it was being a puppet master.
Karma shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't know, man. We can be pretty devious if we want to be. Who's to say you can take it?"
Terasaka smirked. "Try me."
"Well, it's quite simple, if you ask me. There's no way they'd let any of us die — the repercussions would be too costly. You go down there and distract Itona, it'll give Korosensei just enough time to save Hara from the branch."
"We should probably send someone down there to distract Shiro as well. He's clearly controlling Itona's every move; with him preoccupied, tentacle boy won't know what to do," added Hitoshi.
"So, what? You're planning on sending a couple of us down there to get smacked around until Korosensei saves Hara?" Nakamura asked.
"Of course not," Karma said teasingly. "Terasaka's a big boy; I'm sure he can take a hit. And assuming he didn't take a shower last night — no offense, of course — there's still some of that weird chemical in his mane and fur. Itona so much as touches it, and he'll be losing the protective mucus like sweat."
"Yeah, okay, but who's going to get past Itona and go after Shiro?" Nagisa questioned. Hitoshi smiled and threw an arm around Midoriya.
"Glad you asked. Jolly Green will," he said, giving the quirkless boy a shake. Midoriya's mouth fell open and he turned deathly pale.
"M-Me?!" he squeaked. "But-But-But-But—"
The brainwasher sighed. "But nothing. You've trained against my capture invention. Dodging Itona's tentacles will be a piece of cake."
Midoriya looked contemplative, the color returning to his skin. "You really think so...?" Wow , this kid needed serious confidence therapy. Midoriya handed Hitoshi his ass every morning (not that Hitoshi would ever admit that out loud) and he's still self-conscious about his abilities?
"Yes. Now can we stop debating and start moving? Hara can only hold on for so much longer."
-.-.-.-
His and Karma's plan, unsurprisingly, worked perfectly. Terasaka jumped down in front of Itona, roaring and demanding a fight. While the tentacle boy was preoccupied with the lion, Midoriya dodged the remaining tentacles and started dueling Shiro. Before Itona could move to protect his handler, however, Korosensei recovered Hara and the E-class students started jumping in the water to splash Itona's tentacles. Like Karma predicted, the chemicals left over on Terasaka's fur affected Itona just ltheir teacher, and Itona's tentacles started swelling up as well.
Midoriya successfully managed to knock Shiro back, using a tree branch as his weapon. Despite appearing weaponless, the white-cloaked man could surprisingly hold his own in a fight. He dodged and countered all of Midoriya's attacks until the boy managed to catch him off guard with a kick at his chest. Shiro stumbled backward, his beady purple eyes cold and calculating.
"You're surprisingly skilled, child. And your purple friend was quite perspective, having someone distract me and leave Itona on his own, exploiting the boy's dependency. You have promise…" Shiro mused to himself. The man reached into his robes and lashed out with a thin, metal weapon. It looked suspiciously like a needle injector. It nicked Midoriya's arm, drawing just a meer dot of blood. Midoriya jumped back and Hitoshi to his defense. Shiro, however, seemed to have a different agenda in mind. He put the strange piece of metal back in his robe and turned to look at his distraught protégé, his eyes bored.
"Unfortunately, I will have to explore this at a later date. A shame, really — so many of you students really are promising subjects. Itona, let's go. Our fight here is done."
Shiro sauntered away, and seconds later, his disgruntled tentacled lacky followed, leaving them yet again. Though, as Hitoshi inspected the small cut on Midoriya's arm, he couldn't ignore the sickening feeling that this wasn't the last of those two. If the looks Shiro sent Midoriya were anything to go by, it was about to get a lot worse.
-.-.-.-
Though before they could worry about psychopathic men in white taking an unsettling interest in Midoriya, they had to worry about end-of-term exams first. This not only meant the stress of trying to do well with the exam and redeem themselves from midterms, but the threat of Korosensei's deal with them began to loom, more ominous than ever. Korosensei said they must to use their quirk in an assassination attempt against him or else. Hitoshi pushed it off, wanting to wait for the perfect opportunity to strike. Now he regretted all his life decisions as the time for a 'perfect opportunity' steadily dwindled.
Karasuma held another Quirk Training class to help those feeling the pressure of the deadline. There were about ten students left, and all ten of them were one inconvenience away from losing their minds. The class gathered in a big circle, everyone intent on giving assassination advice, but it quickly derailed into a sulking party for those left; most of them even laid face first on the ground, accepting their defeat and early deaths.
"When Korosensei said 'extreme consequences,' he wasn't being serious, was he?" bemoaned Fuwa. The other ten in the same boat groaned helplessly. Midoriya looked like he was on the verge of a mental breakdown, and Hitoshi leaned against him, using his weight to anchor his friend back into reality.
"Oh, c'mon guys!" Isogai said, speaking up encouragingly. "It can't be that bad. I'm sure with the right planning, you'll come up with a brilliant assassination plot."
"Oh yeah?" Nakamura muttered. "How do you propose you kill Korosensei with Omni-linguism, then? Shock him to death with how many languages I can speak?"
"Or Ink Animation? Make the girls in his porn magazines start moving and kill him with ecstasy?" Sugaya added miserably.
Isogai, along with many of their other classmates, visibly flinched. "O-Oh, well, what about the rest of you?" He scanned the remaining classmates, silently commanding them to speak up.
Yada shrugged. "My quirk is actually pretty similar to Bitch-sensei's. It's called Persuasion, and it lets me encourage people to do what I want. It's not as strong as hers though; in fact, it rarely works. The person has to be totally distracted for it to do anything."
Hara, who sat next in line, sighed dejectedly. "My quirk is really embarrassing, honestly." She blushed, picking at the grass. "It's called Goat Bite. I can basically eat and chew anything and it won't cause my mouth or digestive system any harm."
"Explains a lot," Terasaka mumbled. Unfortunately for the jerk, Hara heard and stared him down evilly, like she was thinking of demonstrating her quirk by chewing the his head off.
"Um, let's move on please," said Kataoka.
Takebayashi was next. His quirk was called Statistic and let him analyze mathematical situations at top speeds and spew out statistics on a little slip of paper out of his belly button like a receipt. Hitoshi had so many questions, he felt like Midoriya. Why the belly button? Where did the paper come from? Does the belly button do the math, or his brain...?
Fuwa was after that. Her quirk, History Trace, was actually pretty cool in theory. It let her know the twenty-four-hour history of any item she touched, which explained her obsession with true crime. Unfortunately, there wasn't much obvious use for it when it came to killing Korosensei.
The silent sharpshooters, Chiba and Hayami were next. They exchanged an unreadable look (mainly because no one could see Chiba's eyes) before the boy shrugged. "Honestly, we've used our quirks to kill Korosensei since the beginning."
The class gawked at them. "What?!"
Chiba just shrugged again. "My quirk doesn't turn off. It's called Eye for Detail. My eyes automatically point out the smallest details and variables, kind of like those cheesy crime shows. It's why I'm good at shooting."
Midoriya wrote frantically in his quirk journals, his previous distress at least temporarily forgotten. Hayami nodded, crossing her arms.
"My quirk is Total Equilibrium. I can control the balance levels in myself and those I touch. I use it to give me a steady hand when I shoot."
There was a moment of silence that passed over the class. "Well, I guess that's two less to worry about. Uh, no offense to the rest of you," Maehara said. Those in question just groaned again.
"What about you two?" Nagisa asked, looking at Hitoshi and Midoriya. "It's kind of weird, considering how much you two have us with our quirks, yet we still don't know your quirks..."
Kataoka nodded. "Don't you guys want to be heroes? I don't mean to stereotype, but typically people like that are eager to show off their quirks."
Midoriya clammed up immediately, visibly drawing into himself. Hitoshi felt torn. As much as he wanted his friend to open up to their classmates and realize there was no way they would reject him for being quirkless, he knew Midoriya's mental scars extended far enough that revealing his secret was near impossible for him. Midoriya confided in him one morning after sparing that he wanted to tell everyone, but any time he thought about it, he couldn't help but remember his old school, where he was ostracized and bullied every day for being quirkless.
So, like an idiot, Hitoshi just let his mouth run.
"I don't know what Jolly Green here has planned, but my quirk is the kind best kept a secret. But pay attention during lunch today, and I'll show you exactly what I can do when I kill Korosensei."
Like he said. An idiot.
-.-.-.-
True to his word, Hitoshi walked straight up to Korosensei during lunch. He tried to ignore the burning stares of his anxiously awaiting classmates.
"Korosensei?" he asked smoothly, proud of how well he was keeping his cool exterior despite his mind crumbling from stress and terror. "I have a question on this algebra formula you taught us. Can you clarify it for me?"
The teacher looked up from his terribly hidden porn magazine, grinning as always. "Of course, Shin—"
The moment they appeared, Hitoshi grabbed control of Korosensei's mental strings. No time to think of the consequences now. His classmates were bound to learn how terrifying his quirk was sooner or later.
"Take this gun and shoot yourself in the head."
And to his shock and horror, as well as that of his peers, their teacher did.
The octopus dropped limp like a ragdoll, landing face (or what was left of his face) first on his desk. His tentacles sprawled out, not constantly twitching like usual. His body looked like it started to deflate.
Hitoshi felt an itch in the back of his throat. A scream bubbled up deep inside, pushing to burst out. It wasn't supposed to actually work.
The day Karasuma declared their mission to Korosensei, Hitoshi's mind concoctated this scenario, and he immediately shut it down with every excuse possible; he didn't understand his quirk enough; it might backlash on him; it might make Korosensei more powerful, like Okuda's poisons. The true reason for his reluctance, however, was blaringly clear: because if it worked (and deep down, he knew it would), then everyone would see Hitoshi for what he truly was. A monster. A villain. A killer who forced their teacher to take his own life completely against his will. The one stipulation of his quirk, using pain to break free of his control, held no weight when his victim was already dead.
And that terrified him.
Evil. An evil quirk. A villain's quirk.
The Number One Villain, the man who blew up the moon, unkillable by even All-Might, dead just because Hitoshi told him to blow his brains out. He really was a monster.
But then Korosensei shot back to life, inhaling deeply and snapping upright like a zombie.
Hitoshi did scream this time. Thankfully, he was not alone. Midoriya even passed out and crashed to the floor.
"Impressive job, Shinsou! I've never felt a brainwashing quirk that strong before! Truly incredible," their teacher complimented, seemingly unfazed by the fact he just rose from the dead. "Unfortunately for you, as I'm sure you've all gathered this year, I can't be killed like normal people. For me, that was like hitting a reset button, and now I feel more invigorated than ever!"
Nagisa sighed. "Only you would gain energy from dying…"
Hitoshi's knees finally gave out, and Korosensei caught him before he collapsed. It- It didn't work. It didn't work! He shouldn't feel so relieved — failure meant the end of the world, after all — but Hitoshi felt like his world was actually piecing itself back together. He knew, distantly, that it only failed because Korosensei was his target. Anyone else, and he'd be cleaning their brain off the floor. But that didn't matter because Hitoshi was never going to do this again with anyone.
"Was…Was that really your quirk, Shinsou?" Nakamura asked. Hitoshi tensed, gripping onto the tentacles holding him up, his head bowed low. He couldn't look, couldn't bare to see their disgust, their horror, their betrayal.
"That's so amazing, dude!" Maehara said, clapping him on the back.
...what?
His head shot up, and instead of finding trepidation, his classmates were smiling and cheering him on. They didn't flinch when he looked at them; no one swore to never speak to him again. They were openly admired his villain quirk, asking him questions about how it worked.
"Why'd you keep it hidden for so long, man? Your quirk is totally sick!" Mimura exclaimed. The Record quirk boy replayed the assassination attempt with his eye projector for everyone to see. "Look how fast it worked! It's insane!"
Yada nodded, sighing wistfully. "It's so powerful too. You can actually control their mind and every move. I wish my quirk was that strong…"
"Why did you take so long to use it, Shinsou?" Nagisa actually looked concerned.
Hitoshi blinked, fiddling with his fingers. "I guess…well, except for my parents and Jolly Green, most people are afraid of my quirk. I don't have a very good track record with classmate reactions."
Korosensei reached out and placed a tentacle on his shoulder, looking…was that pride? "If there's one thing I hope everyone will learn in my class, it's that your quirk doesn't define who you are. It's what you do with it that does. Never forget that," the octopus said, turning his attention to the entire class. "Everyone else may judge you strictly on how offensive or 'good' your abilities are, but I know you, my students, aren't like everyone else. You're assassins."
For the first time since both of his parents were with him, Hitoshi stood tall and proud. His chest shook, a silent sob wracking his chest. Midoriya, who regained consciousness just in time for the speech, was actually sobbing. Hitoshi smiled, bashful and relieved, and reached out to comfort his friend, maybe even encourage him to open up too. If there was any time for Midoriya to reveal he was quirkless, it was—
"Hey!" Bitch-sensei called out, completely interrupting the moment.
Goddammit.
The English teacher pushed through the students, a deep scowl marring her beautiful features. She shoved her nose into Hitoshi's face, her boobs coming way too close for comfort. "Is this why you were unaffected by my quirk? Because besides broken-nosed Karasuma over there, no man has ever been able to resist me."
Karasuma sighed, exhausted. "Leave the boy alone," he said, though it fell on deaf ears. The woman just got closer, her boobs centimeters away from suffocating him. Hitoshi leaned back in pure desperation.
"Um, I guess so? Midoriya says since my Brainwashing is stronger, it might make me more resilient to other mind quirks."
The foreign assassin's face went blank for a brief second before turning sour, a vein popping out of her forehead. She growled, her hands poised to grab him. "Well you just think you're so cool, don't you?"
Thankfully, Karasuma stepped in just in time to save him from Bitch-sensei's odd suffocation methods. Hitoshi exhaled, his shoulders sagging, only to immediately tense up when he felt a familiar devilish aura behind him.
"Brainwashing huh?" Karma said, grinning deviously. "I can think of quite a few uses for that…"
-.-.-.-
Leaving for school the next morning, Hitoshi opened the door and came face-to-face with Bitch-sensei.
He immediately slammed it shut.
"Hey, you little punk! Get back out here!" she screamed, banging on the door. His foster mother popped her head in from her room.
"Someone open the damn door and tell the annoying hag to go away already! And don't make me ask twice!" she shouted. Hitoshi withheld a wince and opened the door again, slapping a hand over his teacher's mouth so she'd stop screaming as he slipped outside.
"Why are you here?" he asked bluntly, locking the door behind him. Bitch-sensei shoved his hand away with a huff.
"I'm here because I have a proposition for you," she said. Hitoshi blinked slow, like a cat.
"No."
He brushed past her, unsurprised when she chased after him.
"No? You haven't even heard what I have to say yet! Stop walking so fast, you grape-colored brat!"
Hitoshi was totally content to ignore her the entire walk to school; pretending people never existed was one of his best skills. However, he found out seconds later, it was very hard to ignore someone when they grabbed your face and started kissing you.
What. The. Actual. Hell.
His eyes blew wide open as the blonde assassin assaulted his mouth. It took an embarrassing amount of time to process everything before he shoved her away and tried to deliver a sloppy kick to her stomach, which she blocked.
"I knew it!" she declared. "You're totally not straight!"
Hitoshi flared up a brighter red than Karma's hair, vigorously trying to wipe his mouth clean. "What the fuck are you talking about?!"
"It was the first reason I assumed you were unaffected by my quirk — of course, it doesn't make much sense, since Nagisa and Karma are both affected by my quirk, and have you seen the looks those two give each other? Seriously, just kiss already or something."
"Why are you talking to me about this? Can you please leave already?"
His teacher pretended not to hear him. "I also get a bit of a vibe from Midoriya too — wow, are all a little..." She flicked her wrist down, showing off her manicure, like that was supposed to mean something to him. "Is it the rainbow hair colors?"
"Can you shut up already?" he said, using his quirk for a split second to cut off her train of thought and give her a warning. He released her quickly, and he couldn't help but take a step back; years of hard learned instincts couldn't be ignored. Bitch-sensei barely reacted, rolling her eyes.
"No need to get so offended. Sexual orientation doesn't matter in the realm of assassination. All that matters is that you use your best assets to kill your target," she said. "Which is what I'm here to talk to you about. It's not every day you come across another mind controller. I want to train you."
Shinsou tripped over his own feet. "What? No. No way."
"No? I'm offering to make you a better assassin, brat! Do you not want to kill your teacher and save the world?"
"I don't see how your type of assassination will help me kill Korosensei. Sure, we're both brainwashers I guess, but yours is seduction based. Go ask Yada or something, hers is kind of similar."
"Yada's quirk is too weak compared to ours, and you know that. Her's is a butter knife while ours are more like scalpels," Bitch-sensei argued. "Besides, your quirk is every bit more seduction based, if not more. How do you expect to lure your target into speaking with you, especially if they know the circumstances surrounding your quirk? You need to use your charisma and charm to make it impossible for them not to respond to you. I can teach you that."
She...had a point. His quirk, while incredibly powerful, was easily compromised. He was great at getting those ignorant of it to talk, but everyone else with a sense of preservation was close-lipped.
"One," he finally said. "You get one lesson. If I don't like it, or you spend the entire time trying to- to molest me, I will not accept the next time."
Bitch-sensei smirked "Sounds like a deal."
-.-.-.-
To encourage them to excel on their exams, Korosensei offered them a deal. For every test subject someone in E-class received the top score in, that person got to shoot off one of his tentacles. That meant they had the opportunity to take out six tentacles: mathematics, English, social studies, Japanese, science, and a brand-new test, quirks. A mixture of excitement and stress buzzed through the classroom, with added pressure put on those known to excel in certain subjects. It was up in the air whether Nakamura or Nagisa would claim the English spot; there were high hopes for Isogai, Okuda, and Kanzaki in social studies, science, and Japanese, respectively. Karma and Midoriya were their unknown weapons, having the potential to sweep multiple subjects if they wanted to (that, being specific to Karma, who was too lazy and stubborn to study).
The one that kept everyone on edge was this mysterious quirk exam. It was new to the curriculum, with the Board of Education claiming that, as a prestigious school known for sending students to hero programs, it was their responsibility that students were tested on all necessary subjects. For E-class, however, it felt like another tactic to bring them down.
"They know the majority of us were sent here because our quirks failed to pass their evaluations," Sugaya noted miserably. "This is just condemning us to the bottom spots again."
"What does a quirk exam even mean?" Okano wondered. "The entrance evaluations just involved a teacher's personal assessment of our quirk, and it was always super biased. Is it going to be something like that?"
"I got a call from Shindo earlier giving us a heads up," Sugino piped up. "Rumor on the main campus is that it's going to be an evaluation similar to the entrance exam, except it's going to be Principal Asano and two Pro-Heroes doing the evaluation. There are supposedly three parts, one for each judge, but no one is sure what the parts are yet."
"Three parts?" Midoriya squeaked, looking sick to his stomach. Hitoshi understood his pain. The boy was still traumatized from his entrance exam evaluation; having to go through three more was a death sentence.
"Never fear, students!" Korosensei said, appearing out of nowhere. "I've added specialized videos of every Pro-Hero's quirk in action, as well as a summary of quirk theory to prepare you for any outcome of this quirk exam! My speed doubles will ensure you are well-prepared for any obstacle in any subject for this test — of course, it's still up to your individual work ethic if you are going to come out victorious. By the time exams are done, that Machiavellian principal won't know what hit him!"
-.-.-.-
To make the pressure even worse, E-class nonsensically got roped into a bet against A-class: whichever class got the most people to rank first in the six subjects got to make one demand for the other. And it was kind of hard to remain optimistic about a deal like this when they had to go against the Five Virtuosos.
"I'm kind of worried about the English test to be completely honest. Korosensei recommended a lot of great reading to prepare, but there were just so many! I guess I shouldn't be too concerned, both Nakamura and Nagisa have a shoe-in for the top spot, assuming they can take down Seo. Did you know he lived in America for a little bit? He's probably really fluent. But then there's still Nakamura's quirk, though I'm not quite sure how it works yet…" Midoriya rambled as he and Hitoshi exited the library after a class study session.
The brainwasher nodded absentmindedly, his attention more drawn to the four people waiting at the bottom of the staircase.
"You seem fairly confident in your classmates' abilities, Quirkless," Seo commented as they tried to pass. "Just to clarify, I am very fluent. You E-class failures won't stand a chance. Hope you're ready, because you'll be licking our shoes once we win the bet."
Though Hitoshi was content with ignoring them, Midoriya came to an abrupt stop, scowling. "We're entitled to good grades so long as we work hard, just like you guys. Your little deal doesn't scare us — just all the more reason to kick your butts on the finals."
Araki laughed mockingly, pushing his glasses up his nose. "How cute, you think you can actually best us," he crowed, using his height to stare the quirkless boy down. "Face it, Quirkless. You might have some auspicious prospects amongst your crowd, but when it comes down to it, you're still just E-class — hardly a threat to people like us. We're going to win this bet with our eyes closed."
"Bet?" a smooth, cold voice said. Everyone jumped as the king of the Virtuosos approached. "I don't recall ever making a bet."
"A-Asano!" Koyama jumped, holding his hands up in surrender. "We-We-We were just—"
"No need to get so tongue-tied, Koyama," Asano said. He reached out to the shaking boy and poked him in between his eyes. The act alone almost made Koyama pass out. "Oh? You made a little deal with E-class, trying to see who will come out on top. Winner gets to make the other do what they want. Clever plan. We certainly won't lose, then."
"Don't sound so sure of yourself," Hitoshi stated, eyeing the Five Virtuosos with as much disdain as possible. Asano met his stare, smirking arrogantly.
"Is that so?" he taunted before turning to his accomplices and waving them off. "If you four could leave us, I have business to discuss with our E-class pals."
"But—" Seo started to object, but stopped when Sakakibara stepped forward.
"You heard the man," the school philanderer said. "You know better than to disobey what he says."
The four remaining Virtuosos complied begrudgingly. Asano waited until they left before his smirk grew, his gaze turning intense and hostile.
"So what is it with you, E-class?" he spat. "It's almost like you have something to hide."
Hitoshi froze, his eyes bulging and teeth gritting together. Midoriya — having learned from past experiences — drew back, making sure he was well out of Asano's reach. The action only seemed to amuse the manipulative boy.
"What's with that look? I couldn't be right, could I? After all, what can possibly be so fascinating about E-class?" he asked, his tone sounding innocent, but the demented glint in his eyes far from it. "Yes, if my father's increasing obsession is anything to go by, your class seems involved in something so important. The question is, what is it? There's no denying that something odd has been brewing recently, ever since that tentacle freak blew up the moon. Unconfirmed sightings of him everywhere, a spike in crime rates, a decrease in people's confidence with their precious heroes. Not even All-Might has been able to resort peace. And for some unfathomable reason, I can't help but feel 3-E is at the heart of it all."
Asano's arm shot out, his hand making a sweep for Hitoshi's neck. The brainwasher dodged expertly and countered the attack, stopping the ginger's arm with his own. He was immensely grateful his signature mismatched E-class uniform had long sleeves, keeping Asano from getting what he wanted. The manipulative boy gritted his teeth and made a swipe with his foot, which was just dodged again. Hitoshi had to give it to him; Asano's fighting skills weren't half bad — for someone who wasn't a trained assassin, at least.
Using the boy's unbalanced momentum against him, Hitoshi knocked him to the side with his elbow. Asano stumbled back, nearly falling on the floor. The murderous look on his face made it clear he was less than pleased, but Hitoshi couldn't care less. Scratching the back of his neck habitually, the brainwasher stared Asano down with his signature smirk.
"That is quite strange, Asano. Maybe you should ask your father about it, huh?" He chuckled sharply. "Oh, wait, that's right. It's not exactly a secret that your father isn't the most...tactile with you. What, does father dearest not let you touch him because he wants to keep his secrets hidden? Doesn't offer his time or affection? Such a shame."
It was a low blow, and it made him a downright hypocrite — it's not like he exactly had parents anxiously awaiting to dote on him with love — but Hitoshi couldn't bring himself to care. While it might make things worse for E-class if they lost bet, it didn't really matter in the long run.
Because there was no way they were going to lose.
