Walking Study in Demonology Chapter 6, a my hero academia/僕のヒーローアカデミア fanfic

"In the Canonical Universe, Shinsou Hitoshi is not supposed to be in class 1-A."

"I don't understand," Hitoshi breathes.

"You wouldn't," Midoriya says.

And then, once again, reality folds in itself like silk and the thread of time takes a quick shortcut around Hitoshi's entire existence.

"Yep. Didn't pass the provisional license 'cuz he fought with that Shiketsu guy in the middle of the exam in some kinda pissing contest," Uraraka says, typing furiously on her phone. The screen, Hitoshi notices for the first time, is cracked. "Like, they ruined the entire arena. Oh look, he replied. Who taught Todoroki-kun to use emojis?"

Holy fuck.

They're back. Hitoshi is back in front of the Seven-Eleven. He was in the alley, and now he is not. Even though he should be. He should be, right? People don't just take a few steps back in time. People don't just fucking do that. Because there is a thing called progression of events that should exist in reality, right? Because it's reality, right?

Because one person shouldn't just—just got thrown away between one spacetime to the other like a fucking ping-pong ball, right?

Right?

Hitoshi can hear something snap. Said snap sounds like it's coming from inside his head. And just like every sane man tethering to the edge of retiring from being a sane man, one thought erupts itself in Hitoshi's mind:

That's it.

That's it, Hitoshi thinks. That's it!

Shinsou Hitoshi Has Hit His Limit.

The Limit, of course, has been hit many times in the span of time where Shinsou Hitoshi has the unfortunate honor of encountering Midoriya Izuku. The poor Limit, being Hitoshi's final barrier in protecting his sanity, has been bruised and battered like a slab of dough in a twenty-four hour bakery. After undergoing constant abuse, the Limit has gone from having the consistency of a concrete wall to the consistency of a brick wall and now to the consistency of a cheap second-hand plywood.

And now, this Wall standing between Hitoshi's sanity and the insanity that is the entire world plus Midoriya fucking Izuku—has once again suffered damage. And like any good cheap second-hand plywood wall being punched by a hormonal fifteen-year old boy going through teen angst wanting to prove his manliness, the Wall does not put up much resistance. The Wall is, in fact, in danger of being demoted into a Floor.

And so, the last line of defense in Hitoshi's lucidity revolt. No, they cry. That's enough bullshit for an entire lifetime, they cry.

This—Hitoshi decides as he feels his sanity threatening to crumble down like the Tower of Babel in Genesis—this is how far Hitoshi is willing to go with this whole space-time existential bullshit!

"No," Hitoshi announces. He laughs as he stumbles back, weak in the knees. And then his laughter abruptly stops, expression suddenly turning murderously furious. This change happens quick enough that he looks like an insane person. "No," Hitoshi announces his refusal once again to the universe. "No, no, no. Nope. No! Fuck no," Hitoshi points a finger at the great blue sky, like a normal person. "No!"

Uraraka blinks at him, looking up from her phone. "It's not that bad," she says. "I mean, Todoroki-kun did send eggplant emojis once, but that's because he doesn't know what it means. I think. Wait," she frowns. "Wait. He doesn't, right?"

"You okay, Shinsou-kun?" Tsuyu says, sounding as concerned as she can with her naturally flat intonation. "You look a little pale.." and because she isn't bestowed with the award of being the most blunt student in 1-A for nothing, she adds, "actually, you look like you contracted rabies."

"You," Hitoshi says, turning on his heel to loom over Midoriya, jabbing a finger to Midoriya's direction wildly. Due to his stature—and Midoriya's stature—this, to any outsider, would look like a scene where a bully is threatening his victim into submission. It's funny how things are often more than what meets the eye. "Stop it!" Hitoshi demands, looking a second away from yanking Midoriya back and forth like a rag doll. "Stop it right now!"

Midoriya does that thing where he tilts his head a fraction to the side, as if he is a researcher in a lab and Hitoshi is a mutating gene inside a petri dish. "Stop what right now?"

Stop what..? The audacity of this—this—this—

Hitoshi does not have the vocabulary to describe Midoriya Izuku. Not when he doesn't have the vocabulary to describe the—the—the existential film-flam poppycock clusterfuck he's in. "Stop this—this—" Hitoshi makes a gesture that looks halfway to a seizure. His face is so red with anger that it looks like a vein is about to burst. "You … you are trying to fuck with me," Hitoshi seethes, face an inch away from Midoriya's, "and I refuse … I REFUSE to engage."

Uraraka and Tsuyu stare at the … the whatever is unfolding without warning before the two of them. It could be called an argument, except Hitoshi is the only party doing the arguing and the other party is doing whatever is the equivalent of watching a mildly interesting late night show stand up comedy. Hitoshi, they note, looks insane. Midoriya, who they understand is probably actually insane, looks very sane in comparison.

Which, really, gives the girls all the information they need. Both girls look at each other in understanding. "Ah," says Uraraka with the calmness of a Tibetan monk. She puts her phone back inside her pocket."I see now."

"Something is happening, isn't it," says Tsuyu. Hitoshi can't help but notice that the girl is taking a careful step back. "One of those existential film-flam poppycock Midoriya thingies."

"One of those dimensional fuckery thingamajig Midoriya malarkey," says Uraraka. She too is following her friend's lead in giving as much distance as possible between Hitoshi and her as if the former is suffering from a contagious disease.

"Well, it has been nice meeting you, Shinsou-kun, but.."

"We really would love to join you in another fun activity of cross-dimensional quantum tourism, but.."

"We really must get going."

"Like, ASAP. Like, right now."

"Totes. Like, you know—"

"—for the sake of—"

"—our safety—"

"—and sanity."

Hitoshi stops glaring at Midoriya to glare at the girls. So much for solidarity.

"You will be dearly missed, our honorary 1-A girl," says Tsuyu gravely.

"If you die can I sell your stereo, honorary 1-A girl?" says Uraraka less gravely.

"Just—" Hitoshi bites the urge to growl like a rabid animal. "Fuck. Just, just go."

"And your Nintendo DS too, I believe, will fetch for a decent price—"

"Uraraka can you just fucking go."

The girls escape. Hitoshi returns to his newfound activity of glaring and finger-jabbing at Midoriya. "Stop it," he demands. "Stop this Groundhog Day bullshit now!"

That fucking blank look on his face. "I don't have the Authority to do that."

The hormonal teen boy, shouting from the pain of punching a wall, punches the aforementioned Wall once again in retaliation. After saying its final goodbye to the world, the Wall finally breathes its final breath.

Hitoshi throws his hands up in the air in the universal gesture of someone who has lost their shit.

"Shut up!" Hitoshi says. Wails, really, with a bit of a growly undertone which gives him the impression of having contracted rabies. "Shut up! Shut up with all your cryptic mumbo fucking jumbo Authority fucking bullshit! I'm so sick, so sick of your fucking stupid fucking cryptic speech! Shut uuuuuup! Every single fucking thing you say—universe this infinity that quantum goddamn phythagoras my left fucking nuts!"

A few passersby turn their heads in that polite way one does when one catches a stranger having a hysterical meltdown in public. Hitoshi pants, having not breathed even once throughout his entire spiel. He swallows—which is unpleasant, his throat feels like sand—and pants some more. Hitoshi is well aware that he is having a hysterical meltdown in public. Very much so. He just doesn't really give a fuck anymore.

"Feel better?" Midoriya says, with that neutral, airy voice.

Hitoshi looks at him. Midoriya is staring at him right back, entirely unperturbed from Hitoshi's impressive show of his linguistic capability.

Maybe it's because Hitoshi has officially lost his shit, but somehow seeing Midoriya this calm—exactly like how he always is and has ever been—actually glues some of the plywood pieces back together. Flimsily, but hey, it's still something.

Hitoshi takes a deep breath, rubbing a hand over his face. "Yes," he feels much calmer, which is not a good sign. Hitoshi is well aware that a sane person should rightfully be freaking the fuck out in this situation. "Yes, fuck you. So.." he takes his hand off his face, looks at Midoriya in his dark, empty eyes. "So. Tell me what the hell this shit is. Tell me—" Hitoshi swallows. "Tell me why the fuck am I walking right now even though I don't want to?"

"You can't go against the passage of Time, can you now? After all, Time is Fate and Fate is Time," says Midoriya like a normal fucking person.

"What the fuck does that even—" Hitoshi has gone from red to pale. "Shut up … Fate isn't … destiny isn't.." it's all bullshit. All of it! "Fate doesn't fucking—fate can't fucking tell me what to do. Shut up shut up shut up. I have a choice. I have a choice!"

"Yes," Midoriya agrees. "Just one."

The light turns red.

Hitoshi is crossing the road.

"Fuck you," Hitoshi says. "Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you."

He doesn't want to cross the road. But he is. Because he wants to. Because he has to. Because he is crossing the road. Every atom in his body knows that at this point of time, at this point in space, it is meant to be crossing this very road. He will always be crossing this road, at this very second and at this very road.

Because he is crossing the road.

"Hey, watch where you're going!"

"Oh—fuck," Hitoshi says, barely dodging the delivery guy crossing from the other side of the road. The guy gives him the finger. "Fuck," Hitoshi says again, to no one in particular. "Fuck. Fuck."

They arrive on the other side. A couple children are skipping on the sidewalk. Hitoshi stares at them as they run past him, laughing and pushing each other to enter the ice cream shop. They don't even know, Hitoshi thinks emptily. They don't even know that they have no choice. Every single action they take, the flavor of ice cream they will pick. All of it is Fate. They don't know. Hitoshi didn't either.

And now he does.

"Careful, pothole," Midoriya says, voice sounding from faraway and Hitoshi sidesteps it, numb, and then—

Something stops him in his tracks.

He doesn't want to look down. He already knows what he is going to see. He doesn't want to go through this again. He doesn't want to—

She's crying. Her eyes are red and watery, like a pair of rubies at the bottom of a pool. There is a small horn on one side of her forehead—a manifestation of her Quirk. All these details crash into Hitoshi's brain like a trainwreck. Her arms, the scars—

"You can't be bothering the Heroes like that, can you now, Eri?"

And what does Hitoshi do? What the fuck does he do?

"I'm sorry about my daughter, Hero," Chisaki Kai says. Smooth, confident, untouchable. "She has trouble staying still, you see. She keeps hurting herself."

He's hurting her.

What the fuck does Hitoshi do?

the answer is obvious (he's hurting her) really just the most obvious thing in the world (he's hurting her) he knows it immediately the moment hitoshi set eyes on them (he's hurting her) there is only one thing hitoshi will do, only one thing (he's hurting her) he has to do he knows what he has to do it's the most obvious thing in the fucking world and hitoshi will do it. hitoshi will do it.

hitoshi is going to save her.

hitoshi opens his mouth—

hitoshi o̧p̀en̶s̵ ̵h͏i—"Y͟͝o̴͟͢u don't have the Authority to do that," Midoriya's voice says behind him.

Hitoshi closes his mouth. He turns around, slow. "What?"

"You don't have the Authority to do that," Midoriya repeats. "You are going to save her, aren't you?"

Hitoshi stares at him.

"You can't," Midoriya says. Dark, empty eyes. "In the Canonical Universe, she is not yet meant to be saved."

"Yep. Didn't pass the provisional license 'cuz he fought with that Shiketsu guy in the middle of the—huh? Shinsou-kun, where are you going?"

Hitoshi is barely aware of Uraraka calling at him in the background, because he is too busy freaking the fuckn out. "What does that mean?" Hitoshi says, dragging Midoriya away. Midoriya's arm feels small in the grip of his hand. "What the fuck do you mean by that?" But even as he's asking that, the pieces are already clicking in his head. "What do you mean.."

"You can't do what is not done," Midoriya says plainly as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Hence, the hiccup."

Hiccup. Hitoshi wants to laugh if he isn't about to shit his pants any moment now. "This … loop shit is happening because.. because I want to save her?"

"It's happening because you save her."

"But I haven't saved her yet!"

"Exactly," Midoriya says rather patiently. "It's happening because you save her even though you don't save her."

Hitoshi has been pulling at his hair throughout this conversation so hard that it's somehow look crazier than it normally does. "Let me get this straight. This loop happens because I want to save her and so I'm saving her but she isn't supposed to be saved which is why I'm not saving her—okay fuck," Htioshi says because in fact, it is impossible to get anything fucking straight on this godforsaken earth! "Fuck! Just—just … so she's supposed to just suffer because the fucking Universe says so? That's … that's.."

That's bullshit. That's fucked up. That's immoral, that's unfair, that's—

"The Universe isn't kind," Midoriya says. "Or understanding."

"The Universe can go fuck itself then!" Hitoshi seethes. "Just tell me how to save her!"

"The Authority has to be paid for her to be—"

"Shut up! Shut up.." Hitoshi doesn't even realize that he's biting his nail—habit he thought he had discarded a long time ago—as his mind races. Midoriya is staring at him. Blank. Not a trace of fucking anything at all on his fucking face. Suddenly, without warning, Hitoshi's temper flares. "That girl. She's hurt. Bad. And you're just.." he scoffs, an incredulous, fucked up sound. "You're just gonna do nothing?"

"Without any Authority," Midoriya Izuku replies, "yes. I will do nothing." He tilts his head. More doll-like than ever, like he's hollowed out inside. "I'm not being paid, you know."

It's so ridiculous. So unreal that the heat of Hitoshi's anger goes cold instantly. "Are you being fucking serious right now," Hitoshi says. His voice is ice. "A child is being abused and you're thinking about getting paid?"

"Of course," Midoriya replies, calm and immediate despite Hitoshi's tone. Despite everything. "For every force, there is an equal reciprocal reaction. When there isn't any, the deed will never have existed in the first place."

Hitoshi stares and stares. And then he realizes, abruptly, that he's doing this wrong.

Hitoshi is going about this the wrong way. There is no use in yelling and shouting and accusing Midoriya of anything. Nothing is going to come out from that—not with Midoriya, not like this. No matter how resentful he feels towards Midoriya at this moment, he can't do that. Because if he wants to have any chance at all in rescuing that little girl, if he wants to have a chance at fucking all in breaking free out of whatever the fuck this is, Hitoshi knows—he needs Midoriya.

If Hitoshi wants to save that little girl, he has to do this Midoriya's way. And to do that he has to understand him. Hitoshi has to understand everything.

Hitoshi takes a deep breath in. And then out.

"..You're going to explain everything to me," Hitoshi says. "Fucking everything."

They're walking again. The light is going to turn red in three, two—

"Sure thing," Midoriya replies nicely.

They cross the road.

"Hey, watch where you're going!"

Hitoshi barely pays attention to the delivery guy. He has to understand everything, and to do that, he has to do it from the very fucking beginning. He says, tongue dry, "What do you mean I'm not supposed to be in 1-A?"

There is no use in beating around the bush when Hitoshi is being beaten around by the space-time continuum itself, is it?

"It's quite simple, actually," Midoriya says. "You know how toilet papers are made of trees?"

Hitoshi—having suffered the unfortunate experience of knowing Midoriya—did not expect to receive an answer that makes sense. But this response is so bizarre that he can't help but say, "What?"

"The trees utilized in this phenomenon are often coniferous trees, such as pines. The wood from the pine is turned into pulp. The mats of pulp produced therein are processed and drained to become paper. And some of these papers will then be manufactured into toilet paper," Midoriya says. "This is basic. Toilet paper is a Universal Constant, wouldn't you agree? But let's say, due to some cosmic anomaly, a misfortune has befallen one Universe, and instead of pine trees, this Universe uses jalapeno peppers to make toilet paper. What do you think will happen when people use jalapeno peppers to wipe their—"

Hitoshi screams.

Just straight up screams. First to the sky. And then he puts his fist inside his mouth and screams into said fist.

Nope. Hitoshi can't fucking do this. He can't believe he even considered to try and understand Midoriya fucking Izuku! "I'm going to fucking kill you," Hitoshi says after he's stopped screaming. "Im going to—"

..Wait.

A neuron flickers in Hitoshi's brain. "Are you saying.." Hitoshi says, slowly and much more calmly than how he sounded in his death threat and his scream. "Are you saying I'm a cosmic anomaly..? Are you saying I'm jalapeno peppers..?"

"Mm, not quite. In a manner of speaking, you are a jalapeno pepper."

Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you.

The kids skipping on the sidewalk go inside the ice cream shop. Hitoshi counts to ten before he speaks again. "So this … this glitch … is because of me?"

"Of course not. Nothing ever happens because of any of us, Hitoshi," says Midoriya. "Everything just happens."

Another one of Midoriya's infuriating ominous phrases. It shouldn't make sense, and it doesn't. But for a moment, Shinsou tastes the agonizing, atom-deep helplessness of fatalism. "How do I stop this?"

"Simple," Midoriya says. "You just have to not do what is not done."

A bump to his legs, and Hitoshi looks down at the little girl.

She's scared. She's trembling, her hand small, fingers twisting to the fabric of Hitoshi's shirt.

Not do what is not done? What the fuck does that even mean?

"You can't be bothering the Heroes like that, can you now, Eri? I'm sorry about my daughter, Hero. She.."

He's hurting her. He's hurting her! It's vicious, that part in Hitoshi's head—the part screaming at him to do something. He's hurting her, that bastard is hurting her and Hitoshi has to do something, he has to—

And then it clicks.

Hitoshi understands, suddenly, what he means. What Midoriya means by that. Hitoshi turns, looking Midoriya in his dark, empty eyes. At this moment, there is no alley, no little girl, no Chisaki Kai. Only Hitoshi and this horrible, dreadful realization of what Fate truly is.

"You mean," Hitoshi says. "To stop this ... I have to not save her?"

"Simple, isn't it?" Midoriya says.

"Yep. Didn't pass the provisional license 'cuz—Shinsou-kun? Where are you going?"

"I'm in a fucked up time loop right now," Hitoshi tells Uraraka as he drags Midoriya away.

"Oh, okay," Uraraka says understandingly, and gives him two thumbs up.

"No, not simple," Hitoshi says, once Midoriya has been successfully dragged away. "Fuck you, I can't fucking do that. I can't leave her with—with that Villain, shit, he's a Villain, for fuck's sake! Didn't you see what he's done to her? Didn't you—"

Hitoshi stops abruptly. This is no use. There is no use in asking Midoriya questions like this, because of course Midoriya sees. Midoriya probably fucking sees everything under the fucking sun.

And most of all Hitoshi knows—Midoriya meant what he said. Truly. Midoriya doesn't have any intention in saving that girl. Hitoshi can see that in those eyes—or rather, Hitoshi can't fucking see anything in those eyes. In Midoriya's blank fucking face. No sympathy. Not even a flicker of sadness or guilt or happiness or any emotion at all. No cruelty either—it'd be so much simpler if Midoriya is just cruel, but there is nothing there. Just absolutely nothing.

You don't care what happens to me, Hitoshi said that day, the first time they met. Midoriya doesn't care about him.

So why would he care about this little girl?

Midoriya, after all, isn't a Hero.

Hitoshi swallows his hysteria down. He lets go of Midoriya's arm. Thinking. Thinking so hard he wants to shit bricks.

Okay.

Deep breaths. Okay. Midoriya isn't going to save that girl. So Hitoshi has to be the one to do it. And if Hitoshi wants to save that girl, he has to. Fucking. Think.

You aren't supposed to be in this arc, he said. She is not yet meant to be rescued.

That's right. From the beginning. Hitoshi has to understand all the way from the fucking beginning.

"What do you mean," Hitoshi says, voice cracking, "by Canonical Universe?"

The light turns red. Midoriya smiles. Bland.

"Canonical Universe," he answers, "is the Universe that Exists the most."

They cross the road.

"Exists the most," Hitoshi echoes. Hitoshi doesn't dodge the delivery guy. The guy gives him a middle finger.

Exists the most. The most. As if, as if existence can be—

"Existence isn't something that can be measured," Hitoshi says. His voice sounds far away to himself. "That doesn't make sense. Something … can't exist more than something else.."

They arrive on the other side. The bell above the ice cream shop's door jingles as the kids run inside, giggling. "Hitoshi," Midoriya says, looking at him. From this side, the pink flesh of his scar is glinting under the sun. "How much do you think you exist?"

Hitoshi looks at him.

What the fuck can Hitoshi say to that?

What the fuck can anybody say to that?

Midoriya's eyes roam over Hitoshi's face, taking stock of his expression. And then something that is close to gentleness settles in Midoriya's face. Close, but not quite. "All right," he says, almost indulgently, as if talking to a four year old who is terrified of being scolded. "How much do you think I exist, then?"

"..Makes no sense. You can't … there is no metric in existence," Hitoshi mumbles. Helplessly. "No sense. It doesn't work that way. Either you exist, or you don't.."

Head tilt. "Are you sure?" Midoriya says. "I exist to you—because you know me. What you know of me is how much I exist to you. I exist to Uraraka-san, to Tsuyu-san, to your class—because they have talked to me, and that's how much I exist to them. I exist to this person," he nods at a person with a stroller passing them on the sidewalk. "Because at this fleeting moment, they perceive me—and therefore I will only exist to them as a passerby in their peripheral and nothing else. I exist to Kacchan, because he's known me all his life. Those memories and feelings he has of me are both the amount and definition of my very existence to him."

Hitoshi's heart jackrabbits in his ears. He wants to throw up.

"And for the rest," Midoriya continues. "For everyone else who has never and will never know me—everyone in this Universe, and in the rest of Universes, and in beyond all of the Universes—why would I exist to them at all? I wouldn't, would I."

He says it all so neatly. So simply. Like one plus one is fucking twelve.

"I only exist in the dozens, hundreds, thousands of miniscule, infinitesimal instances where my existence comes to be known in this Universe. That's how much space I take in the world. A transient space, of course—there will be a time where no one in this Universe will Know me at all. A time when my name finally stops to linger, when my name finally Ceases.." Midoriya says. Smiles. "And I, too, will Cease with it."

It shouldn't make sense. Midoriya never makes sense. And to anyone else, this will not make sense, not in the fucking least, but to Hitoshi—

That day. First day they met. Names are very powerful things, you know. The day Hitoshi became Unknown. The sensation of running out of space cosmically. The sensation of being displaced in the very celestial meaning of the idea.

This shouldn't make sense.

But it fucking does.

"And that, Hitoshi, is how much I exist," Midoriya says. "Just that much."

Just that much. Hitoshi understands. Unfortunately, he understands, for the first time—he truly does. Just that much.

And how much is that really, compared to the plethora of infinite Universes that exist in this world? How much is the existence of a single life, in a single universe, when you compare it to Absolute Everything?

"But," Hitoshi says, when he finds his voice. "But no one knows me."

"No one really knows me," Hitoshi says again. "Nobody ever really knows anyone!"

"People just—people just have their own perspectives of other people," Hitoshi says again. "That's not the same as knowing someone. People's perception of me is not me."

"Their perception is just—just a facet of me. It's not me," Hitoshi says again. "And you're saying these … these distorted fucking views of me that I have no control of … are the only version of me that exists in the Universe? The only version that counts?"

"While the true me … the me that I know. The me that only I know.." Hitoshi says again. "The me that no one else Knows, the real me … doesn't?"

No expression on that face. Absolutely nothing at all.

"You don't exist when you aren't perceived. You exist when you are Known," Midoriya's voice says. Gentle, neutral, bland. "And only when you are Known. If no one Knows that you exist.." his voice is soothing, even. As if telling a bedtime story. "Then how will you possibly know that you do?"

Oh, Hitoshi thinks. Oh.

The glue that has been holding up Hitoshi's sad plywood defense against total insanity crumbles into dust.

Something stops him in his tracks.

Hitoshi looks down. She looks back up at him—a single life that exists to him at this very moment, and only at this very moment. Her hair is long and silver, shining under the afternoon sun. Her tears glimmer. She looks like she is in pain. Hitoshi Knows that she is in pain.

"You can't be bothering the Heroes like that, can you now, Eri?"

Going off to the deep and isn't really all that dramatic, Hitoshi finds. On the contrary, it's a rather calming experience. Suddenly understanding that nothing matters doesn't really change things much.

Mostly because things, as he has found out, do not matter.

"I'm sorry about my daughter, Hero," Chisaki Kai says. Smooth, confident, untouchable. "She has trouble staying still, you see. She keeps hurting herself."

Hitoshi doesn't say anything. He does nothing at all, really. Hitoshi understands now why Midoriya wouldn't do anything. Why would he?

Why would he, when nothing matters at all?

"Come, Eri," Chisaki Kai says. "Let's go, shall we?"

Her hand twists further into Hitoshi's shirt.

Hitoshi does nothing.

"Children are difficult, aren't they?" Chisaki laughs—a cold, heartless sound. "They can go unruly sometimes without proper discipline."

Hitoshi just has to do nothing. He just has to let things happen. Let the Universe run its course. He just has to do nothing. Rather, he doesn't have to do anything.

After all, nothing really matters.

"Don't go," the little girl says. "Please."

This doesn't matter. This doesn't matter in the least. A speck of dust in the magnanimity of Everything. A pixel dot in the great wide web of the matrix. A single grain of sand in the grand beach of Being. Hitoshi's existence is barely a blip in the span of infinity. Insignificance is too kind a word to describe it all.

Doesn't matter.

This doesn't matter.

Hitoshi's hand wraps around the girl's shoulder protectively. He looks at Chisaki Kai in the eye.

Hitoshi says, "Fuck̛ y̧—͠"͘

"Yep. Didn't pass the provisional license 'cuz he fought with that Shiketsu guy in the middle of the exam in some kinda pissing contest. Like, they ruined the entire arena. Oh look, he replied. Who taught Todoroki-kun to use emojis?"

"Probably Mina."

"Anyway. We gotta go," Uraraka tells them, doing finger guns.

"Don't stop existing," says Tsuyu to them, which is very normal. And then the girls went off. Hitoshi watches them go without words.

And then they cross the road.

"You still chose to save her," Midoriya says. It's said almost curiously. Less of a question and more of an idle observation. Nearly an allegation, even.

Hitoshi ignores said allegation. "So this Universe," Hitoshi says quietly. "This Canonical Universe. It exists more than ours do."

Delivery guy—he dodges. "That's right."

"Explain Canonical."

"The Authoritative Universe," Midoriya says. "It's the Truest one, because it's the one that Exists First—the one Most Known."

"Most Known," Hitoshi echoes.

"Most Known," Midoriya says. They arrive across the road. Children running into the shop. "It is after all the Original Universe. Careful, plothole."

Hitoshi frowns. "What did you say?"

"Pothole," Midoriya repeats.

Hitoshi sidesteps. "Right. If that Universe is the original," Hitoshi says. "Does that mean we are a copy?"

"Not quite. It would be more accurate to say that we are a deviation of the original Universe," Midoriya says. "Our universe is canon divergent, if you will."

"So there's another—" Hitoshi cuts himself to laugh, a manic note. This is the craziest fucking shit. But he feels calm. Very calm, in fact—Hitoshi feels as calm as Midoriya seems to be. It is the calmness, Hitoshi realizes calmly, of a madman. "So there is another version of me out there. An original version of me who is not in class 1-A."

"Mm."

"And I'm not supposed to be in class 1-A because this … original me ... isn't."

"Mm."

"But I chose to go to 1-A," Hitoshi says. "I did that. I worked hard to get to 1-A. It's my right to be in 1-A. I'm in 1-A because of my own.." Hitoshi doesn't finish his sentence. He doesn't need to.

"There is a hefty price to free will, you see," Midoriya says calmly.

Something bumps into his legs. Hitoshi looks down at the little girl, as he continues to talk to Midoriya. "So this glitch happens because I can't go against what happens in the Canonical Universe. Is that it?"

"This glitch happens because this universe wants to Exist," Midoriya says. "It wants to kill the Curse."

A figure emerges from the dark of the alleyway. "I'm sorry about my daughter, Hero," Chisaki Kai says. Smooth, confident, untouchable. "She has trouble staying still, you see. She—"

"Shut the fuck up," Hitoshi says. He turns back to Midoriya. "You were saying?"

Silence fills the alleyway. And then it's pierced through by Chisaki Kai's voice, low and dangerous and, perhaps, aghast. "Pardon?"

Hitoshi looks back at him, annoyed. "Shut the fuck up, can't you see we're talking?" he looks back to Midoriya. "You were saying?"

"..That's quite rude, Hero," Chisaki says. "Not the proper protocol to greet civilians, now, is it?"

"Oh fuck you, you sick fuck," Hitoshi says. "Fucking child abuser piece of shit. You think you're so tough, huh, think you're some fucking Villain godfather or some shit? What, you think your stupid fucking mask makes you look so fucking scary? Flash news asshole, that shit makes you look like a stupid fucking goth fucking mobster fucking duck, you cringe fucking dick. So why don't you use that disgusting fucking BDSM fetish gear knockoff to shut your fucking mouth instead of making shitty speeches like some second-rate shounen anime antagonist, you big fucking duck? Can't you see I'm in the middle of fucking something here you braindead fucking dickhead stupid fucking Yakuza motherfucking piece of—"

"Yep. Didn't pass the provisional license 'cuz he fought with that Shiketsu—"

"—shit or I'm going to fucking take that shit off you dumb fucking mouth and shove it up your—oh hi guys."

Uraraka and Tsuyu stare at him.

"Sorry, I was talking to this Villain but he isn't going to exist for like, another five minutes or so. Anyway, I gotta go to my time loop now so I'll catch you guys later."

They stare at him. Hitoshi fingerguns at them. They still stare at him. Hitoshi drags Midoriya away without further ado.

The light turns red.

"So," Hitoshi says, naturally continuing the conversation. "The Curse. Of course. The fucking Curse. Haha."

Hitoshi feels calm. One-hundred percent fucking peachy. He never feels better than he does now, actually. It's like everything has completely fucked off from his head, just pure undiluted one-hundred percent gluten free zen. Just—

"Hey, watch where you're going!"

Hitoshi whips his head. "Fuck you asshole how fucking hard is it to steer the goddamn bike a little to the left huh what the fuck do you mean watch where I'm going why don't you watch where you're fucking going or I'll make sure you'll never be fucking going anywhere ever again fuckass mark my fucking words."

Hitoshi turns back to look at Midoriya.

"Anyway," he says calmly. Pure zen. "This universe wants to kill the Curse. Explain that, please. What the hell does the Curse got to do with this whole Canonical reality breaking shit?"

"1-A is cursed," Midoriya says simply. "So the universe wants 1-A gone."

Hitoshi laughs. "Okay," he says. The laugh shuts down. "Because. 1-A is. Canon-divergent? Because 1-A … we … aren't supposed to happen?"

"Careful, plothole," Midoriya says, but Hitoshi barely hears him as he rambles on. "This universe just wants to eliminate everything that doesn't align with fucking Canon?"

"It's inevitable," Midoriya continues. "Such is the course of a canon divergent universe. It doesn't Exist enough."

They are nearing the alleyway. Hitoshi has memorized it perfectly. In fifteen steps, the little girl will bump to his legs. "What would happen if I save the kid?"

"We'll derive more and more from Canon," Midoriya says. "Something that Hasn't Happened will Happen. Chaos will not sustain. The Edge of our Fabric will fray and fray and fray."

Ten more steps. Hitoshi laughs. Just like every looney worth their salt, he doesn't even know what the fuck he's laughing at. "This Canon Universe," Hitoshi says, between giggles. "What … heh. What makes it so good? Why does it want us to be just like it?"

"You got it all wrong, Hitoshi," Midoriya says patiently. "The Canon Universe couldn't care less about us. It's this universe who wants to be it."

Hitoshi considers this. "Why?"

"Canon Exists the most after all." Eight steps. "Known more. Wanted more. Intended more," Midoriya says, with that dreamy voice of his. Five steps. "Canon will be Known for a long, long time. A span of time that our false universe can't even begin to conceive."

One step.

Hitoshi looks down. "Eri," he says. "That's your name, right?"

The moment he says her name, the little girl freezes. Her hand stops just shy before it twists into his shirt. "It's okay," Hitoshi says calmly. So calm. "It's all right. I'm gonna save you. Okay?" something almost like confusion creeps into her terrified face. Hitoshi barely even notices. "I'm gonna save you," he says, half to himself. "I promise. Haha."

"You can't be bothering the Heroes like that, can you now, Eri?"

Hitoshi straightens up. Calmly, he looks to the alley way wherefore Chisaki Kai walks out of the shadow. "I'm sorry about my—"

"Is she your daughter, sir?" Hitoshi says politely.

"Yes. She.." Chisaki Kai trails to a stop.

(hitoshi will do it. hitoshi is doing it.)

It's easy, Hitoshi thinks, feeling his Quirk fixed in place. So easy, this. The easiest thing in the world.

(hitoshi is going to save her.)

Hitoshi opens his mouth, and he says—

Hitoshi opens his mouth, a̴n̴d̴ ̴h̸e̷ ̴s̴a̵y̵s̸—̶L̴o̶r̸e̴m̶ ̴ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor i̸n̵c̴i̷d̸i̴d̵u̵n̶t̶ ̶u̷t̸ ̸l̷a̴b̴o̷r̷e̴ ̸e̸t̸ ̸d̶o̶l̵o̶r̴e̵ ̵m̴a̷g̵n̶a̶ ̵a̶l̶i̸q̸u̵a̴.̴ ̸U̴t̴ ̵e̶n̷i̴m̷ ̷a̴d̵ ̵m̷i̷n̵i̴m̴ ̶v̸e̴n̷i̷a̷m̵,̷ ̴q̶u̸i̵s̴ ̶n̸o̴s̴t̵r̵u̸d̴ ̵e̴x̴e̶r̷c̵i̷t̵a̸t̵i̴o̶n̵ ̵u̵l̶l̵a̴m̶c̸o̷ ̴l̶a̸b̵o̵r̴i̷s̵ ̷n̴i̸s̷i̵ ̶u̵t̴ ̷a̵l̸i̴q̵u̸i̷p̵ ̴e̸x̷ ̶e̴a̸ ̵c̸o̵m̴m̷o̵d̵o̸ ̵c̵o̶n̶s̵e̸q̵u̶a̷t̸.̶ ̵D̷u̵i̴s̴ ̷a̷u̸t̵e̵ ̷i̸r̸u̶r̷e̶ ̵̛͉͙̯͚͗̈͗̏̽̈́a̸̛͉͍̭̯̼̻͐́̈̍̓̈́̀̈́̍̕͝͝n̴̪̿̔́̈́̀̓͜i̸̧̧̢̟͔̬͖͎͂̃͑̾͆̊m̴̪͠ ̵̢̻̹̭̭̖͆̃͊̐͐́̔̈̈̎̅̍̑͘͝ȋ̷̧̛̛̭̣̫̐͘d̶̬̻̼͕̳̯̮̗͖̺̮̺̓͐̾̂̊ ̷̠͉̘̠̌͋̎͑̿̉̆̾̃̈́̍̐̐͘͠e̵̢̮̦͉̠͖̮̮͓̊́̀̽͂s̶͕̮̏̍̉́̋̐t̷̩̩̰̯̞̭̠͎̰͍̣̉e

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l̴o̷l̴o̷l̴o̷l̴o̷"I̸ ̴t̸o̵l̸d̵ ̴you,"

Midoriya's voice says. "You don't have the authority to do that."

"Yep. Didn't pass the provisional license 'cuz he fought with that Shiketsu guy in the middle of the exam in some kinda pissing contest," Uraraka says, typing furiously on her phone. The screen, Hitoshi notices for the fifth time, is cracked. "Like, they ruined the entire arena. Oh look, he replied. Who taught Todoroki-kun to use emojis?"

"Probably Mina."

"Anyway. We gotta—huh. I didn't know your face could do that, Shinsou-kun."

"Hm?" Hitoshi says.

"You know," Uraraka says, tilting her head as she inspects his face with a hint of concern. "Smiling."

Hitoshi laughs.

"..and laughing," Tsuyu says. Both girls look at each other. "Shinsou-kun, have they checked you for a concussion? You did black out for a bit."

"I did, didn't I," Hitoshi says when he's finished laughing. "Maybe I do have a concussion. Maybe all of this is just in my head," he looks at Midoriya. "Is this all just in my head?"

"Everything is always just in your head," answers Midoriya helpfully.

"You heard him," Hitoshi says cheerfully.

Both girls stare at him. And then they look at each other. "Um.." Uraraka says. "Shinsou-kun, I don't know how to tell you this, but something about you is a little … you look a little.."

"You look pretty insane, Shinsou-kun," says Tsuyu, once again proving her role of the most straightforward kid in all of UA and perhaps all the multiverses. "Which means. This is one of those, isn't it."

"One of those dimensional fuckery thingamajig Midoriya malarkey."

"One of those existential film-flam poppycock Midoriya thingies."

"Would you like to come with?" says Hitoshi, whose hysteria has turned him into a hysterically polite person.

Both girls are inching away. "We really would love to join you, but—"

"—we really must get going, you see, so—"

"—good luck, and—"

"—don't stop existing."

The girls swiftly escape. Hitoshi watch them go. "I get it now," Hitoshi says.

Light turns red. "Oh?" Midoriya says, sounding vaguely interested by Hitoshi's statement.

Cross the road. "This glitch is happening because I can save her," Hitoshi says. "I can save her at this point of time. Unlike in the Canon Universe, where they can't."

Delivery guy. "Oh."

Kids enter ice cream shop. "And because I can save her, I can't save her," Hitoshi says. "Because this universe won't let me. It wants to stop being divergent. It wants to follow Canon."

It's not that hard, really, Hitoshi thinks pleasantly. It's quite simple to understand once you are out of your mind.

"This universe won't let me save her," Hitoshi says. "Because it wants to Exist as much as Canon does."

And then, something thoughtful entering his tone of voice, "You really are quite something, Hitoshi. I knew I was right to make you my assistant."

Fifteen steps. "Fuck you," says Hitoshi cheerfully. And then, "I'll pay for it."

There is a beat before Midoriya's voice rings behind him. "Pardon?"

"I'll pay for it," Hitoshi says. "I'll pay for the Authority."

Midoriya stops walking. "What?"

"I'll fucking pay for it," Hitoshi repeats. "I'll fucking pay for the Authority to save her. I'll—"

"..Hitoshi," Midoriya says. "I don't think you quite understand what exactly you are asking for."

"Fuck yes I do," Hitoshi says, turning. "I—"

He stops. It's not just Midoriya who stopped walking, Hitoshi realizes. hitoshi has stopped too.

everything else, too, has stopped.

everything. the road. the breeze. the people. the street.

the universe.

it's a peculiar sensation. the noon wind is dead and

there is a sudden deafening silence

filling up the world. pure silence—real silence,

no noise unfiltered, silence so loud that it

feels like a tsunami. for a second, it feels as if

hitoshi has gone deaf—but then,

hitoshi realizes, there is no second.

"holy shit," hitoshi says, his voice feels slow and heavy,

dragging through the emptiness of sound.

"did you just fucking stop time?"

there is something odd about Midoriya's expression,

hitoshi thinks.

"take it back," Midoriya says.

it takes hitoshi a second to understand what

he means. "what? hell no."

hitoshi walks around,

waving his hand in front of the passerby with the stroller.

"what the fuck. you fucking stopped time. i don't know why i'm even surprised."

"hitoshi."

hitoshi knows then, suddenly, what he finds

odd about the look on Midoriya's face.

hitoshi only notices that Midoriya always

smiles the moment he stops doing so.

"take it back," he says. "you can't pay for it."

it's not quite empty, Midoriya's face.

his usual smile, hitoshi thinks, that bland,

neutral smile would be much more emptier than

whatever this cold expression is.

"you won't be the only one paying for it," Midoriya says.

hitoshi shrugs. "so?"

"..you don't understand," Midoriya's voice

is sharp amidst the frozen street,

amidst the universe compressed into

a single filament of a second.

"saving her will make the curse worse. saving her will unravel the fabric of this—"

"yeah, yeah, it'll fuck this universe sideways upside down,

end the world, make everyone unexist, et fucking cetera,"

hitoshi says. "she has to suffer

because—what, because that's how it's supposed to be?

we have to follow this stupid original universe because

that's the proper way to fucking go about it?

that's the stupidest shit i've ever heard all my life!

i'm not following some canon

universe so incompetent that

they can't save a child quicker

than they fucking should.

that's their problem. their mistake.

and you're telling me we gotta follow them

just so we can exist more?"

Midoriya doesn't say anything. just stares at him with that frigid look.

it's the liveliest, hitoshi thinks, that he's ever seen him.

"fuck that. fuck that. so the world's gonna,

i don't fucking know,

unravel or whatever shit if i save that kid.

fucking jalapeno pepper, ha!

yeah, fucker, i know what the fuck you're talking about,

all of this is some kinda butterfly effect shit.

and so what? so what?

if everyone's asses are going to suffer because of this,

then so fucking be it!"

Midoriya stares at him, standing still—

stiller than even the

spacetime the both of them are enveloped in.

"fuck this universe and fuck canon.

i'm fucking saving her.

i can't pay for it? big fucking deal!"

Hitoshi seethes.

"i think the whole universe can just

pitch in for the fee."

Midoriya stares at him.

"Midoriya," Hitoshi says.

"i know what the fuck it is I'm asking for."

Midoriya stares at him.

And then tilts his head.

"You are willing to damn this universe to Hell," he says,

that coldness persisting in his voice,

"Just to save one little girl?"

Hitoshi looks back at him.

"A universe that would let

a little girl suffer just to Exist

isn't a Universe worth Existing anyway,"

Hitoshi says.

Midoriya stares at him.

And then he laughs.

Not one of those quiet, polite laughter that Hitoshi has come to associate with Midoriya. This one is loud. Loud and sharp and rough, hacking through the frozen time like an axe. A throw-his-head-back kind of laughter. A real laughter. It's Hitoshi's turn to stare.

There is that sudden disparity again in this moment. It's an uncomfortable view—uncomfortable to realize that Midoriya, after and despite of everything, could very possibly be an actual teenager.

Midoriya stops laughing, but the leftover is still there—a quirked end of his mouth, mirth all over his face like freckles. He looks like a completely different person. He looks like a person.

"You know, Hitoshi," he says then. His voice is devoid of the coldness and distance that Hitoshi has come to be familiar with.

"I used to dream to be a Hero."

His voice, too, is devoid of the coldness and distance that Hitoshi has come to be recognize. Something is there—some mischievousness, like an inside joke.

"An impossible dream, of course," Midoriya says.

"But, you know … if I had been a Hero," he tilts his head.

"I hope I had been one just like you."

Hitoshi blinks. Midoriya laughs again, shaking his head.

"Alright, then," he says, the edges of mirth fading away into a familiar vagueness. "Alright, Shinsou Hitoshi. I can't keep us here for long, so this is your last chance to take it back."

Tentatively recovering from witnessing Midoriya acting like an actual human person, Hitoshi says, "I'm not taking it back."

"So you choose to help her?"

"Yes."

"Even if it means you are undoing the curvature of space-time?" Midoriya says. "Even if it means you are unravelling the Strings of the Fabric, of this Universe's Fabric?"

The girl's eyes. The scars on her hands. The grip, soft and fragile, on the hem of Hitoshi's Hero uniform. "Yes," Hitoshi says. It's the easiest decision in the world, really. "Even if it fucking means that."

"You understand the universe does not do anything for free, Shinsou Hitoshi," Midoriya says. "You understand that for every force, there is an equal, reciprocal reaction. You understand this will be paid, in the past, present, and future. This will be paid in everything that Happens and everything that Does Not. Do you understand that?"

"Yes," Hitoshi says.

Midoriya smiles, and to Hitoshi's slight relief, he's smiling that bland, vague smile, and not the real one. "You do not," Midoriya says. "But don't worry. No one ever does."

He stretches, as if about to do something strenuous.

"Alright. We'll return soon enough."

Hitoshi does feel a little different. Something about the universe isn't so still anymore. "You're gonna start time again?"

Midoriya laughs. Quiet and polite.

"I can't start or stop time. There is no beginning or end. There is no point.

It's impossible to go against the passage of time," Midoriya says.

"What i can do is align the passage a little to the centre."

Hitoshi doesn't get it. "Huh."

"Just a nifty little trick," Midoriya shrugs. "Temporary, though.

It'll catch up to us eventually."

"What will?"

"The passage, of course," Midoriya says.

"It'll catch up right about—

—now."

"Huh," Hitoshi says, as the world comes into motion and the colors come to view and sound comes to existence and time doesn't pass through him so much as he is passing through time and—"eughgh. Fuck."

"The nausea will pass," Midoriya says helpfully. "Always happens for the first time."

They are walking again. Right—fifteen steps.

"You've brought other people through—" ugh, it feels weird as hell. Like vertigo but less about height and more about spacetime. "Eugh. Through that?"

"Of course not," Midoriya says, with surprise, as if Hitoshi just suggested him to kick a baby. "Other people wouldn't survive that. You are the first time. And only, of course."

Of fucking course. "Bastard, I could've died?"

"I didn't think you would," answers Midoriya, which is really not an answer at all. "Careful, plothole."

"You said it again," Hitoshi says, as he sidesteps the pothole. Ten steps.

"What?"

"Plothole."

"Pothole?"

"Whatever," Hitoshi says, swaying a little. "Ugh, how long does this last?"

"Not for long, I think. You are very Dense, after all."

Hitoshi looks sharply at him. "You said it was safer around me. So why the hell is this happening to me?" seven steps.

"Exactly."

"What?"

"It happens to you," Midoriya says. "That's why it's safer around you."

Five steps. Hitoshi stares at him, remembering the first day Midoriya came to their dorms. "I'm bait?"

"You don't have an Affinity, you see. If this were to happen to anyone else, they wouldn't have survived."

Hitoshi laughs. "You knew this was going to happen," Hitoshi says. "That's why you stick with me. Not anyone else in 1-A."

"In a manner of speaking." Three.

"Fuck you." One step—

Something stops him in his tracks.

Hitoshi crouches down carefully. The little girl, who just bumped into his leg, looks up at him with a pair of big, watery eyes. Shit, she's crying. "Sorry, did I hurt you?" Hitoshi isn't good with kids.

And then a smooth, adult voice says, "you can't be bothering the Heroes like that, can you now, Eri?"

Hitoshi lifts his head to look into Chisaki Kai's eyes.

Chisaki Kai inclines his head at him good-naturedly. "I'm sorry about my daughter, Hero," he says. If it were not for the mask, Hitoshi would probably be able to see his smile. "She has trouble staying still, you see. She keeps hurting herself."

"I see," Hitoshi says calmly. "Can I ask for her name, sir?"

"Her name is—"

It's easy, Hitoshi thinks, feeling his Quirk fixed in place. So easy, this. The easiest thing in the world, to do something that Does Not Happen.

(as long as it's, of course, paid.)

Hitoshi opens his mouth, and he says—

"Pass out while I call the Heroes on your ass," Hitoshi says.

"And then the fucker passed out. And then I called Nighteye's agency. We gave Eri—the little kid—to the authorities and she's staying with Aizawa-sensei now. The end," and then he says, "Now get the fuck out of my room."

His classmates stare back at him. Kaminari, he notices with annoyance, is eating his chips.

"Wow," Kaminari says, chips all over his mouth. "That's badass. We should get pizza to celebrate. Pizza, anyone?"

"Dude, you single-handedly caught a fucking Villain, dude," Kirishima says, sounding giddy of all things. "Not just a Villain. A fucking Yakuza Villain. That's like, final boss level, dude."

"Maybe mid boss," Jirou says. "Still, very impressive. I respect you so much more now, Shinsou."

"I said get the fuck out of my room," Hitoshi says. "And seriously? That's the part that got your attention? Literally just told you all that our universe is a fucked up knockoff version of another universe and we are all going to disappear from existence at any point of time."

"I'm gonna order hawaiian," Kaminari says, holding typing his order into his phone with oily fingers. "With extra-cheese crust. Hey, we can pay this with the class' savings, right?"

"No," Jirou says, who is the class 1-A treasurer.

"Disappear from existence," Hitoshi repeats, emphasizing on each word in hopes that it could perhaps penetrate the dense skulls of his classmates. "At any point of time. Hopefully the next millisecond if you guys don't get the fuck out of my room."

"I think it's all right, Jirou-kun," says Iida. "This is, after all, a major celebration of Shinsou-kun's achievement as the newly added member to our classroom. As his friends, we must support his success any way his can. Kaminari-kun, please order a batch of truffle pizza. No anchovies please."

"I want pepperoni," Uraraka says enthusiastically, climbing over Hitoshi's bed to peer over Kaminari's shoulder. "Oh, take this one, they have a deal right now. Three medium pans with one lasagna. I've never eaten a lasagna. I've always wanted to eat a lasagna."

"You guys are fucking crazy," Hitoshi says. He takes comfort in that. Surrounded by crazy people makes you feel sane, which is perhaps not a good sign of your own soundness of mind. "We are going to die, you know. Probably damned to Hell and everything."

"Which is why I need to eat a lasagna," Uraraka says. "Before I die and go to Hell. Oh, honey wings, hell yeah put that in too. Can I get a shake please."

"Do they have vegetarian options," Tsuyu says. "We are all going to die, Shinsou-kun. It's basically how this entire life thing works. Do they have vegan cheese?"

Other people wouldn't survive that, Midoriya said. Hitoshi doubts it. Hitoshi lost his mind back then—he is sure of that. He probably is still losing his mind right now. But these fuckers? Goddamn. They took it all like it was the morning news. Granted, they're probably not losing their mind because you can't lose something you never had in the first place, but still. Hitoshi thinks these deranged kids can probably survive anything. The universe is ending and they're fucking calling Pizza Hut, for fuck's sake. The moment all of them get to Hell Hitoshi is one-hundred percent sure that someone will be asking for the wifi password.

Someone knocks on the door. "Somebody open that and tell them to fuck off," Hitoshi says, but no one, as always, is listening to him. He climbs down his bed to open the door so he can tell the person to fuck off himself.

It's Todoroki. "I heard parallel universes exist," he says, a notebook and a pencil in his hand. "Is that true."

Fucking hell. "Fucking hell."

"I heard time travel exists."

"God, fucking hell."

"Todoroki-kun, we're getting pizzas. What do you want?"

"Mentaiko with extra bonito flakes," he says, not taking his eyes off Hitoshi. "So it's not Midoriya who is an alien. All of us are aliens, aren't we."

Hitoshi pinches the bridge of his nose. "How the fuck did you get to that—"

"Are we clones. Are we clones of our original existences."

"..whatever." Todoroki skitters into the room.

Someone knocks on the door. "Fuck, what?"

It's Yaoyorozu. Her eyes look fucking insane.

"I figured it out," Yaoyorozu says. "I know why we are Cursed. It's because of us. We are the faulty variable. We are the butterfly wings. We are the one who derails this universe from Order. It's us!" she seethes. "Class 1-A is the mistake."

"..ok," Hitoshi says. "Let me go please."

She lets go of his collar and skitters into the room. Hitoshi closes the door.

Someone knocks again.

Hitoshi counts to ten, and opens the door. He raises his brows. "Well, well," Hitoshi says flatly. "What do we have here. Prince Grumpy himself has graced us with his presence and beautiful blue eyes."

Bakugou glares at him. "Shut the hell up, Okinawa."

"Okay," Hitoshi says, and proceeds to shut the door on him.

The door doesn't shut. For a moment, there is a primitive power struggle between the two boys as they push the door against each other. "Right," Hitoshi says, sounding casual even though his arm is starting to hurt. The blond fucker is strong as hell, which is just super annoying. "This is just super annoying. The fuck do you want."

"..need to talk."

"What was that? Your melodious voice grazes my ears so softly like a cherry blossom petal would glide through the moonless nigh—"

"We need to fucking talk, asshole."

They stop the power struggle, but Hitoshi still doesn't let him in. "About?"

Bakugou stares at him. "What fucking else?"

I exist to Kacchan, because he's known me all his life.

Right. What fucking else.

"Don't touch my chips," Hitoshi says. He lets him in. To the general population of his bedroom, he says, "And if any of you get crumbs in my bed, I'll give you an extra Curse. Kaminari, I want margherita with extra cheese."