18: Alpha Down
Katsuki is standing in line to get lunch, listening to the Doc's yammering with half a mind, when a wave of somethingpasses over him. Not quite a shadow, not quite a premonition so much as a sensation beyond his understanding. The cafeteria comes to a standstill as he drives himself faster than ever, running from the feeling even as he sprints towards it. It takes everything he has to breathe as the pressure washes over him, but as time drags out, he realizes something:
This isn't an attack- he's being released.
It feels like weight being cut from his body; despite his headlong plunge into awareness, it's easier to breathe now.
Whatever it is, it passes faster than it has any right to.
His prosthetic shakes him down to his bones, engines almost screaming as they revel in their sudden freedom.
As soon as the something passes over him, he races through the cafeteria. He stumbles, curses his shaky legs and continues to shove through the crowds until he reaches the table where Deku tucks himself away from the rabble. Even before Katsuki can see clearly, he catches sight of something purple.
He hits reality like a brick through a window and watches Deku plunge into the foundation of U.A.'s cafeteria. Everyone in the cafeteria freezes and turns, staring as Katsuki hoists the discount troll into the air by his shirt.
Hitoshi frowns at the boy in front of him. It's hard to believe that this is 'Deku'. People have been talking about him nonstop lately, but all the rumors make it hard to put the pieces together. Some days this kid is stronger than All Might, some days he looks like he's about to cry. A few people have claimed Bakugō and that pink haired chick are the ones doing crazy stuff.
Well, Hitoshi is getting answers today. Mystery boy responds easily, and Hitoshi grins when his quirk latches on. It's something like a handshake, or a tug on a fishing line, and the tug…
Hitoshi's eyes widen as the line goes taught and snaps. Mystery boy's eyes flutter, then shut, and he sways for a moment before he falls backward. The floor of the cafeteria shatters. Dust falls from the ceiling. People scream.
Suddenly Hitoshi is dangling in the air, but he barely processes the angry blonde hoisting him into the air; his can't peel his eyes from the cracked floor beneath the sleeping mystery boy.
"The fuck did you do to him? Hah?!" The blonde shakes Hitoshi for emphasis, jogging him from his stupor. Not that it matters. He can barely form the words to explain as he reaches up and grabs the boy's… wrist. Singular. At the very least he can tell people that Bakugō's prosthetic is warm to the touch.
"I didn't… I don't, that's not…"
"Katsuki! Put him down!" Bakugō glares at the blonde girl, then back up at Hitoshi. Hitoshi risks a glance at the new girl, then forces his eyes back to his aggressor. Any thought of asking for help flies out the window when he sees the rage and panic in the girl's eyes.
"He did something, Doc—"
"I know that, you idiot!" Bakugō's glare narrows so quickly that Hitoshi's life begins to flash before his eyes. He really doesn't need to remember all these embarrassing early memories, but at least he isn't about to wet himself. This is fine. "You're the only one who can carry Izuku! We need to get him to the lab!"
For a moment Bakugō hesitates. Hitoshi's life continues to flash before his eyes, including that one time he'd first discovered his quirk and nearly took a candy shop for all they were worth. Good times. Then Hitoshi hits the ground, scrambling away from the angry S-class students as they pick up the mystery boy and leave. A lot of people are following them, random people who aren't from the hero course and a few people FROM the hero course, and now teachers are flooding the cafeteria.
When All Might walks up to Hitoshi and offers him a hand, he wonders if maybe this day was worth it. He's barely on his feet when Nezu appears on All Might's shoulder, and the stare of the principal makes Hitoshi feel even smaller than Bakugō's had.
"It looks like we need to talk, young Shinsō."
-0-
"I just wanted answers." Hitoshi mutters. The teachers aren't ALL glaring at him, at least, but he feels small beneath their stares. Nezu hums from his perch on All Might's shoulder.
"I see… and, just to satisfy my curiosity, what was the result of using your quirk against Midoriya-kun?"
"It's never done that before…" Hitoshi sighs, rubbing the back of his neck as he thinks back to that… sensation. He's gotten pro heroes, villains, civilians, therapists… it's never failed him like that before. "It felt like I was pulling something too heavy for my quirk. Like fishing up a boulder or a fish that was too powerful for the line."
"That's a very useful analogy, young Shinsō," All Might smiles and offers a thumbs up. Hitoshi absolutely doesn't blush.
"For now, you'll be excused from your classes today," Nezu chirps. Hitoshi blinks up at the principal, half expecting suspension or expulsion, but also expecting something different because… well, it's U.A. "Power Loader will escort you down to Hatsume's lab so that tests can be conducted, and you'll accompany Shield-san and Hatsume-san until the end of the day so that everyone is close at hand. We will play tomorrow by ear."
"Is that really a good idea?" Aizawa grumbles. Hitoshi watches the teachers share looks of disbelief and discontent and finds himself wondering what kind of tests they're going to do on him. "We don't know what kind of exposure…"
"It's fine!" Nezu waves a paw as if to backhand the question. "This is exactly why Midoriya and Hatsume are here in the first place. The lockdown is supposed to encourage growth, but so far, we haven't had any of the hero course students show the signs. Perhaps this kind of conflict will speed things along."
Hitoshi shrinks even further under the look the teachers give him. It's almost… pitying.
What the hell are they about to do to him?
-0-
"You're telling me there's a massive laboratory under the school?" Hitoshi mumbles.
"Pretty much."
"And it was built by one of your students in less than a year?"
"Well, not exactly," Maijima-sensei sighs and scratches at his shoulder. Hitoshi breathes a sigh of relief before the man continues. "She built a functioning artificial intelligence, and then some metal alloys that we've never seen… between those two, she basically had machines do all the work."
What. The. Fuck.
Hitoshi laughs nervously as the elevator descends. They've been in the damn thing for almost five minutes when it reaches the bottom, and Hitoshi knows falling that far from the ground floor of the school can only mean that he's in some kind of dungeon. For the first time ever, he wonders if maybe U.A. isn't as by the books as they seem.
They walk out of the elevator onto a small platform, and Hitoshi's neck cranes as he looks for the roof. Between the hanging roof panels he can trace the walls as they reach up towards the surface, gradually disappearing into a shadowy fog. A few meters ahead of him the floor falls away, leaving a series of catwalks the only thing keeping them from falling into an equally shadowy abyss. Most of the room is white, though Hitoshi can't actually put a finger on where the light comes from; everything between the catwalks and the hanging ceiling panels is just white enough to be well lit. Hitoshi risks a glance over the edge as Maijima-sensei walks out onto the catwalk, then shudders. Red lights shift and crawl through the darkness. Some of them turn to look back at him. It feels vaguely as if looking down into the abyss has brought his nerves to life, letting them crawl against the backs of his eyeballs and the insides of his skull.
Or maybe that's his anxiety. Who knows? Hitoshi thinks this could all be an extremely realistic nightmare sent to discourage him from talking to the mystery boy in the first place.
No, time travel is too much. This is fine. Hitoshi can handle this.
He stops when Maijima-sensei takes a left turn and starts down a set of steps. Before them is a massive platform mounted to the left side of the room, suspended beneath a massive black metal contraption. At first glance it seems to be a series of rings, each one smaller than the last, attached to one another with hydraulics and tubes and LEDs, connected to a small orb that hangs slightly above eye level. It moves with the grace of a human spine, cycling dozens of parts to shift the orb around the platform. When it turns, a bright purple light locks onto Hitoshi and… blinks?
There's more on the platform: a cluttered, ramshackle cubicle on the left beside a stack of black metal cubes, a pair of chairs hanging from the overhead rig over on the right, a wall of tools and file cabinets tucked against the far wall. Everyone else is gathered around a console and a tube full of green liquid near the far end of the platform. Hitoshi counts the blonde lady, a pink haired girl, another pink haired girl, a little kid, Bakugō and Maijima-sensei… as well as an older, plain looking student.
When he finally forces his legs to move, the crowd turns toward him. He slows when he realizes that one of the pink chicks isn't human, but some kind of mechanical approximation, and that everyone looks upset. Rather than being "angry with him" they seem more "upset with the results". Not surprising, really. Bakugō looks less angry than usual, though that isn't saying much.
"So you're the heretic!" Hitoshi flinches as the pink haired chick grabs him by the shoulders. She drags him across the remainder of the platform, feeling him up through his uniform as she presses him into the semicircle of angry strangers.
"It's Hitoshi, actually. Hands off," He swats the girl's hands, though it doesn't stop her. "Who are you again?"
"That's Hatsume Mei," The foreign blonde says. "And I'm Melissa Shield. Please call me Melissa. You've met Bakugō Katsuki, and you may have heard of Togata Mirio… We're the members of the S-class, along with Midoriya Izuku-kun."
Hitoshi turns to the body floating in the green tube. It's the first time he's heard the boy's name, other than 'maybe Deku'. There are a bunch of tubes attached to him now, including a facemask and a several wires attached to different parts of his body. A little bit of nausea rolls through Hitoshi when the name settles.
The kid seems smaller now. No different from before, really, but in some sense... It's all so mixed up. Hitoshi isn't sure if the boy in the tube is the person he was looking for.
"Extra tried to brainwash him," Bakugō barks, snapping the silence in half. He takes two steps forward, glaring at Hitoshi. "Anyone who responds gets trapped and forced to do whatever he wants."
"Hey, whatever this is, I didn't do it!" Hitoshi snaps. Remembering the feeling of his quirk shattering makes his stomach churn violently, a feeling that meshes all too well with the anger boiling out of his pores. "My quirk didn't work!"
"That's your excuse?" Bakugō grabs Hitoshi's jacket with his prosthetic. It only takes one hand to drag Hitoshi onto his toes, despite Hitoshi's height advantage. The arm growls like an engine, giving off an acrid scent that burns Hitoshi's nose.
Melissa yelps, only to be stopped by the third year- Togata. Hitoshi's eyes dart back to Bakugō, blinking beads of sweat from his eyes.
"I just wanted answers…!"
"Fuck that." Bakugō snarls. Hitoshi's feet scratch against the metal as he's hauled down to Bakugō's eye level. The motion leaves him half kneeling, half hanging from the boy's grip.
"I…" Hitoshi's eyes water as he stares back. Bakugō's eyes aren't nearly as angry as Hitoshi thought they'd be. They're cold, as if Bakugō knows exactly what Hitoshi is thinking. "What do you want from me? How was I supposed to know…!"
"You're one of those fucks who talked shit about USJ, right?" Bakugō drops him, leaving Hitoshi on his knees. "You wanted to be promoted to the hero class because you couldn't fight some fucking robots. You didn't get anything after the festival, or last fall, and now here you are."
Bakugō says it like he's putting nails in Hitoshi's coffin. Hitoshi's chest burns.
"'Just wanted answers' my ass," Bakugō snorts. "You got pissed because you didn't get what you wanted, then went after the guy at the top of the food chain. Right?"
"So what?" Hitoshi coughs. Bakugō's foot hits his shoulder, laying him flat out on his back, and then settles on his chest with just enough pressure to keep him down.
"You got lucky, idiot," Bakugō's eyes are cold, but Hitoshi can see lights running through the prosthetic. Flickering reds and yellows. A faint whine fills the air as something begins to burn, pouring exhaust fumes over Hitoshi's uniform. "If you'd pulled that shit on me, or the Doc, I'd have torn you to pieces. Nezu would have fucking let me, too. But you picked the ONE dumbass who won't fight back."
"Doesn't look like he could if he wanted to…" Hitoshi spits. Bakugō's lip twitches, drawing his frown into an angry, disdainful snarl.
"Whose fault is that?"
"How was I supposed to know?!" Hitoshi shouts, balling his fists. Bakugō's shoe may as well be a boulder pressing down on his chest. "This never happens!"
"Who cares!" Bakugō shouts, leaning over Hitoshi with wide red eyes. "You used your quirk, now he's unconscious! It doesn't matter what you fucking wanted!"
Without his anger, he can't fight off the guilt. Tears rise in his eyes, and Hitoshi isn't sure if it's the smell of Bakugō's prosthetic or his shame.
"Feh… you already knew," Bakugō snorts when he sees the tears. "Damn extras."
Bakugō stalks off without another word, leaving Hitoshi on the floor. Hitoshi takes a deep breath, scrubbing at his eyes for a moment before he notices someone offering him a hand. Melissa's smile is familiar, much like her disappointment: She's kind, but she can't bring herself to forgive him.
He takes her hand anyway.
"Now that that's out of the way!" The pink one- Hatsume, grins like a madwoman. "I was in the middle of explaining when you and sensei arrived, heretic!"
"It's Hitoshi…" Hitoshi growls.
"Sure! Anyways," Hatsume steps up to the green tube and twirls with a flourish. A series of holograms appear at her fingertips, seamlessly offering data and graphs that hover in midair with no obvious source. "What you're looking at is the Kakopod, the 'Complete Comprehensive Recovery Pod'! Also known as the Monkey Bottle!"
"Kakopod?" Maijima-sensei groans.
"With a 'k'!" Hatsume's grin widens. Or maybe Hitoshi is sensing just how manic this girl is, because it doesn't seem as though she can smile any wider.
"Wait, wait, just…!" Hitoshi hesitates when they look at him. The robot hanging overhead quietly shifts to peer over Hatsume's shoulder, and it feels as though the entire room is bearing down on him from the other side of that stare. "Contrary to popular belief, most people have no idea who you people are. Mind explaining who this guy is?"
"Midoriya Izuku is listed as the first anomaly," A faint click echoes as the robotic eye lowers into view. "Though it may be hard to believe, Anomalies are individuals who have evolved without explanation."
"Okay…" Hitoshi sighs, rubbing his forehead as he fights off the urge to leave. He shouldn't have to explain that none of them are EXPLAINING anything, but people do this pretty often. Getting it from a robot is… different. The fact that he recognizes the voice from that weird ceremony Nezu held back at the beginning of the term tells him more than anyone else has so far. "So, this kid is… some kind of weird experiment?"
"Don't get it twisted, Purple," Bakugō scoffs. "Deku is too fucking stubborn to take care of himself."
"Midoriya Izuku is a quirkless individual capable of exceeding All Might's physical abilities," The machine offers. Hitoshi sighs, both because that explains everything and NOTHING at the same time.
"I put god in a coma. I'm flattered."
"If Deku's a god, I'm a fucking Buddha." Bakugō growls.
"If anything," Melissa stalks out to the holograms floating beside Hatsume, glaring at Bakugō with a tiny smile. "Izuku is Buddha, and you're the monkey king."
"Better than fucking Vegeta," Bakugō sneers.
"You guys DO get my references!" Hatsume cheers. Hitoshi glances to the side as Maijima-sensei sighs and pulls a flask from one of his pockets. The way he knocks it back suggests it isn't water, but Hitoshi can't really blame him.
"Wait, if he's Vegeta, who am I?" Togata blinks innocently.
"Krillin." Bakugō grumbles.
"Hatsume, why did Midoriya pass out when he got brainwashed?" Maijima-sensei asks.
"Yes, I think that's the question on everyone's mind!"
Hitoshi half turns, half dangles his head over his shoulder, as Aizawa arrives with Nezu perched atop his shoulder.
"Principal!" Hatsume cheers. "Well, Izuku is medically stable, so we think he's unconscious. It seems like the brainwashing managed to override the bridge between his conscious and unconscious sensory intake and the strain was too much."
"Do you know what kind of adaptations caused the conflict?" Nezu asks.
"There's no adaptation," Every eye in the room turns to Bakugō. The boy rolls his eyes, then sighs heavily as he accepts his fate. "It has nothing to do with his body or his strength. You would've seen that on all the damn tests that you put Deku through."
"You're implying that it's a trait of the Anomalies in general." Nezu states.
"No shit. When was the last time any of you sat down and thought about how time works?" Bakugō steps forward, standing between the women and the guests. "Oi, Eyeball, pull up videos of Sparky and Deku fighting."
Hitoshi's eyes widen as the video appears. The kid, Midoriya, doesn't actually move. Rather, Togata chases him around a sparring arena and stumbles whenever Midoriya teleports from one place to another.
"Time is a fucking constant. Nobody is built to handle speed like that. You get lucky if you can keep up with what's right in front of you when you move that fast," Bakugō shoves his hands in his pockets, glaring at each of them in turn. "Deku moves like a regular person because he forces himself to. Slowing down this much all the time is a fucking chore."
"Ah… I think I see," Nezu clasps his paws together, staring at the boy floating in the tube. "Midoriya's control over his perception of time was taken away from him when he fell to the brainwashing."
"From what our tests have recorded, Izuku translates physical distance directly across fractions of time," Melissa says quietly. "He can cover meters in fractions of seconds… or less…"
"Purple's quirk disconnects your body from your brain," Bakugō growls. "Deku got stuck waiting for the rest of us to catch up and he passed out."
"Then we have no idea when he'll wake up, or how to wake Midoriya up in the meantime." Nezu says.
"At the very least, I'll be running diagnostics constantly," Hatsume crosses her arms, staring at the boy in the tube. "Midoriya's vitals are all kinds of crazy! Hopefully, I'll be able to figure out what's going on that might have been missed by traditional testing."
"Before you ask, Principal Nezu," Melissa chimes in. "Before today, Izuku weighed somewhere around four hundred to four hundred and sixty kilos. We've already discovered that the number is rapidly decreasing, even if his overall health isn't deteriorating."
"He's losing weight without losing mass?"
"Something like that," Melissa frowns. "The nanomachines in his bloodstream are reporting that his muscle fibers aren't decompressing or deteriorating, and his body isn't shutting down. He's just sleeping. There's no way to pierce his skin, but he doesn't seem to need an IV or any nutrients. All I can say for sure is that he's asleep and that he's healthy, but we don't know why or how yet."
"Keep me informed, please!" Nezu's grin returns. "Now, after some thought, I've determined that Shinsō-kun shall be joining you for all your tests. If that's unsatisfactory, please let me know. I'd like to know if this happens to anyone else, but that should only be tested once Midoriya-kun is awake. Losing another Anomaly would put us in a bad situation."
"Wait, I," Hitoshi frowns. "No one has explained ANYTHING! This guy is in a coma, I put him there! We're, like, twenty stories underground in some psycho laboratory! I didn't sign up for this!"
"Given the circumstances, I'm fairly certain this is just another stage of the Anomaly syndrome. However, young Shinsō-kun, you've proven that your quirk reacts poorly with the Anomalies," Nezu's eyes fall on Hitoshi with none of their usual humor. "Even if I wanted to return you to your classes, you'll need to face disciplinary actions for using your quirk against Midoriya. Melissa-chan and Hatsume will run some tests on you and your quirk factor, as well as recording how your quirk interacts with others. For the foreseeable future, you will behave as a student of the S-class: namely, you'll be temporarily subject to Aizawa's and Kurobayashi's authority. Whenever Midoriya wakes up, you'll face the consequences of your actions… and in the meantime, you will remain indebted to his family. Do you understand?"
Hitoshi's mouth goes dry. It feels strange: Nezu is essentially signing his death sentence. This is a stay of execution. At the same time, Nezu is putting Hitoshi exactlywhere he wants to be… with none of the benefits and all of the consequences. Consequences that Hitoshi didn't fully understand.
"Yes sir," His eyes drop to the floor.
"Good. Now, please report to Melissa and Hatsume for testing. I will have your things moved to the S-class dormitory in the meantime," Nezu says. Aizawa, taking the cue, turns and leaves. There's some vague conversation between the two, but nothing that Hitoshi can make out over the blood coursing through his ears.
"Well, that was uncomfortable!" Togata-senpai lets out a strained chuckle. "I look forward to working with you, Shinsō-kun!"
"Yeah." Hitoshi licks his lips and turns back to the other students, trying not to give away his trembling. The idea of 'disciplinary action' worries him. When his eyes lift from the floor they gravitate towards the tube, and the shirtless boy within. Looking at it makes him feel worse. Bakugō hit the nail on the head earlier: Hitoshi used his quirk against a stranger without knowing what might happen. It was sloppy, rude… incriminating.
He deserves to be punished for it. What had he been thinking?
But at the same time, he feels a shiver run up his spine. Something restless cuts through the sick feeling in his gut. Despite everything, it feels like he's close to what he's been looking for. Maybe, if he's not expelled, this will be a good thing.
"Alright heretic!" Hatsume cheers. "Strip!"
"What—" Hitoshi's eyes widen as the girl approaches him. She tosses her jacket and coat aside, leaving her in a sports bra and a baggy pair of industrial pants, and cracks her knuckles as she moves towards him. "Hey, wait a sec…!"
"Science waits for no one! Strip!"
-0-
-0-
Stain is resting when he feels it roll over the city. There's no way to explain it exactly, only a faint shudder that runs through him and a sudden taste in the air. He's on his feet instantly, staring out the window at the cityscape beyond. If he has to guess, or put the sensation into words, it feels as though he can breathe easier. As if some kind of pressure has been removed from his shoulders. Only his unique personal experiences provide the most apt metaphor for what he's feeling.
This is the sensation of a weapon falling from one's throat, or the gaze of a predator drifting away from possible prey.
Rather than feeling liberating, it leaves Stain frowning viciously at the horizon.
"You'd best not be dead, boy. If you've left them, then these people are truly forsaken."
-0-
-0-
Beneath the outskirts of Tokyo, the white halls of a laboratory are dyed red. Assistants and researchers alike fly through the hallways beneath the flashing lights. In the history of this particular facility, there has only been a situation like this once. The veterans present for that incident are only ones who aren't running for the exits; they know that there's no way out of a code red. Rather than waste their energy, they walk to their offices and prepare in their own ways.
Amid the white coats, a man in a black suit walks with a purpose. He ignores the way they press themselves against the wall as he passes. Breathing the same air as he does is more dangerous than remaining at their stations, so they wait until he's several meters past them before they risk moving. Thin spectacles rest on the bridge of his nose and he wears a silver tie, but otherwise there is nothing about him that stands out save for the cold look in his eyes.
In the center of the facility is something that was once an elevator. Now it is best described as a reinforced box of metal that occasionally slides up and down. He swipes a card through the reader, then scans his fingerprint and allows the retinal scanner to pass over him while the fingerprint scanner draws blood. Only when his DNA, blood type, heart rate, fingerprint and retinal scan are found acceptable do the doors begin to open.
It opens five times: a vault wheel retracts the horizontal reinforcements first. Once the atmosphere in the containment lab has been tested, the vault wheel retracts the diagonal reinforcements and locks them in place. The eight steel beams rest in the middle of the doorway like an asterisk speared through the vault wheel. When the containment chambers in the lower lab report that they are uncompromised, several metallic clanks are heard from the outer edges of the door panel. After the door is free to move and the excitation rate of the subjects in the lab is within a certain range, the hydraulics pull the door back and up towards the ceiling of the elevator.
The process takes several minutes.
The man in black watches the process with disinterest, enters the box, and goes through the process twice more.
Unlike the analysis rooms and offices overhead, this room is black and poorly lit. The containment lab is a military bunker built around three simulated environments. Several computer stations and machines are mounted to the walls. A line of workstations stands between the elevator and the containment cells, but the scientists in the containment lab are all standing with their backs to the walls. When the man in black enters, several of them try to shuffle away from him. He pays them no mind.
He stalks out of the elevator, around the workstations, straight towards the handrail between the monitor station and the containment cells. Most of the lab has been sunk into the foundation of the island, stacking the cells on top of one another so that what lies in the lowest cell can only break out by fighting the creatures locked on top of it. That being said, the thing contained in the lowest cell is kept restrained, sedated, impaled and locked within a space only slightly more hospitable than a vacuum.
Still, the threat remains. Do with that what you will.
Beyond the handrail lies something similar to a zoo enclosure. This, the first one, is similar to a forest, complete with a simulated river flowing into a small pond. It's roughly twenty meters to a side, lined by three layers of bulletproof glass seamlessly cast into a cube. Fake sunlight pours from the ceiling, where simulated sky is projected by the upper panel.
What was once a gorilla sits in the corner of the enclosure.
The man in black hums quietly as the gorilla looks up at him, then back at the ground. He walks to the right, past the edges of the containment cell, and stops in the corner of the observation deck. A door is mounted to the wall here, though it is reinforced like the elevator, and he goes through the five-step process yet again.
On the other side of the door is a staircase that is barely wide enough for one person. It is mounted to the wall for maintenance and observation purposes, but the man in black is the only one brave enough to use it. There is hardly any light here save for the simulated light bleeding through the plastic walls of the first two cells and the red lights mounted to the walls. At the base of the staircase is another reinforced door, and beyond that is a small walkway mounted to the wall of the shaft that allows him to observe and interact with his observation subjects.
This one, like the one cowering in the first containment cell, is not human. This one could be described as a lion, though it has never resembled one. First of all, it stands seven meters tall. At first glimpse the legs resemble a lion's hindquarters, but the creature is so large that it can hardly be compared to normal lions. It wears a metal chest piece around its shoulders, complete with several sensors and tubes of sedative mounted on the back. Large red eyes stare down the length of its muzzle. Considering the bared fangs and the lengths of metal extending from its hands (they resemble paws, if only they didn't have an opposable thumb), the creature seems prepared to tear through the walls of its prison.
"If you continue to behave this way, you'll shake the cell beneath yours." The man in black calls. His voice is projected into the enclosure rather than risk an opening into the cell, and thus an opening into the containment unit embedded underneath it. When the monstrosity within hears him, it crouches on all fours and lets out a roar that shakes the walls.
"You pathetic humans…" A raspy voice comes through the speakers. "Have you forgotten your instincts so much?"
"I thought we'd moved past this childish behavior, five two six." The man in black says.
"Call it what you will!" The lion's teeth snap shut as it throws itself against the wall, glaring at him. "Whatever it takes to drag you out, father!"
"You could have simply—," The man in black smirks, then frowns as the beast slams its fists against the wall.
"Release us! If you're truly our sire, then release us! Do you value our lives at all?!"
"Why would I do that?" The man in black sighs. "You'd simply massacre everyone in Japan."
"Then you're more of a monster than I am!" The beast growls.
"What could possibly demand your release?" The man in black asks, brow pinched. "If this is not another one of your foolish rebellions…"
"It will wake up soon!" The beast drives a fist into the wall hard enough to shake the entire installation. "Your failure will slaughter us all!"
"Hmph," Dr. Genus stalks toward the door with a frown. "Some king of beasts."
-0-
-0-
Hitoshi has always found it strange that people want to be heroes. When he talks to people about their dreams, they don't think of paperwork or the blame left after a civilian is killed. They want fame and fortune and glory… and Hitoshi can't deny that he wants that too. All Might projects heroism effortlessly, but Hitoshi can't help thinking that All Might is like those guest speakers who go around visiting schools. Rather than actually telling how it is, they project the glamor and the glory and the results with none of the hard work.
Not everyone is like that. All Might happens to make it seem effortless.
When Hitoshi thinks of heroics, he thinks of doing the right thing. He dreams of using his quirk to help people. Being seen as a force for good rather than a trojan horse. The price of these things is failure, paperwork, bureaucracy and spandex, and the price of failure includes the possibility of death.
Or worse: someone else's death.
Hitoshi knows heroics isn't all glamor and fame.
Still, he never imagined dying before he finished his first year of high school.
It turns out that official consequences of Midoriya's fate aren't the problem: the more immediate consequences are a pink haired maniac, her murderous robots, several hero students who see him as a devil incarnate, and the kids who transferred in recently.
He's dangling, half naked, from his ankles when the new kids show up. The throbbing in his head is more concerning until he finds himself nose to nose with a tall brunette who's glaring daggers at him. She makes a show of cracking her fingers, showing off the large jewels mounted on her rings.
"At first I thought I got off kind of easy," Hitoshi says. "But I'm starting to think Nezu left me here knowing this would be worse than expulsion."
"What makes you think that?" The new faces surrounding him don't even twitch. He can't tell which one is talking, considering they're starting to get a little blurry.
"Hatsume said this was some kind of testing," Hitoshi blinks unsteadily. "Right now, it feels a lot like a set up."
"You're new. Hatsume wouldn't do that." Glasses-guy-who's-not-from-heroics says.
"This place has some serious mad scientist vibes," Hitoshi says. "And this doesn't feel like a regular medical exam."
"Mad Scientist, remember?" One of the twins snorts.
"Look, if you're going to beat me up, fine," Hitoshi groans as his head begins to throb. "But can I at least put my pants on first?"
"You really wanna get blood all over your uniform?" The short girl with the bright red eyes smiles at him wolfishly. "They're pretty expensive you know."
"Honestly? This is worse," Hitoshi sighs. "This is so much worse."
"DONE!"
Hitoshi's world spins as the contraption he's locked into begins to rotate, slowly turning him right side up and letting the blood drain from his throbbing skull. The manacles around his wrists and ankles unlock after a moment, nearly dropping him to the floor as he stumbles off the rack. A purple eye descends from the rafters, blinking down at him.
"You performed quite well, Shinsō-san," Monitor tells him. "The results should be finished by tomorrow."
"Do you take reviews?"
"Reviews are my specialty."
"I'd like to file a complaint."
"I'm afraid Midoriya-kun is the one in charge of complaints."
"Isn't that convenient. Where are my pants?"
"Here you go!"
Hitoshi stares at the little android who's brought him his clothes. She's… adorable, in a creepy way. At first glance she looks exactly like a person, but up close there's a strange floatiness to her hair and a vacant look in her eyes. Not that Hitoshi really cares whether she's human or not; she's the only one in the lab who doesn't hate his guts.
"Thanks… I never got your name?"
"I'm Maya!"
"Thanks, Maya-chan." Hitoshi doesn't look up at the crowd of guests until he's got his slacks buttoned and his belt around his waist. Even then, he can't really look any of them in the eye. "Alright, let's get this over with."
"Y'know," The other twin pipes up, looking at her friends. "He almost looks like Izuku, if Izuku was purple."
"Nah, Izuku's got the eyes," Glasses-guy-who's-not-from-heroics tells her. "This guy lost hope years ago."
"Eri-chan is going to need a discharge soon. We could always give it back and beat it out of him again…" A short guy with a shinai mutters.
"Eri wouldn't do that… and it's not like we can beat up a child."
Hitoshi frowns. Their names escape him, but he knows vaguely who they are: it isn't every day that a nationally coveted school like U.A. transfers in half a dozen people two semesters late.
"Anything else you need, maniac?" Hitoshi turns toward the pink haired twins seated overhead. When neither one responds, he looks at Monitor and raises an eyebrow.
"Mother is busy analyzing the data from your exams and Midoriya's containment," Monitor floats past Hitoshi's shoulder. "Lord Mei-I is currently analyzing a certain incident and the wreckage leftover. They will be busy until tomorrow at the earliest, but the data on both fronts is substantial."
"That's fine. It looks like I have another appointment anyways," Hitoshi frowns. The back of his neck is tingling from the blood draining away from his skull, and he can feel a faint lightheadedness stuck behind his eyes. When he turns back to the crowd of strangers, he finds them looking at him expectantly. "Are we doing this here?"
"I wish," The tall girl mutters.
"What Ruby-chan means," Glasses kid smiles devilishly as he claps his hands. "is that oba-san would be pissed if we took matters into our own hands. Izuku would be too, but that's beside the point."
"So, you're here to make vague and ominous threats?" Hitoshi shoves his hands into his pockets, tightening them until his fists begin to ache and his nails dig into his palm.
"That too!" Glasses is shorter than Hitoshi by half a head, but he's wider, and the hand clamped around Hitoshi's shoulder makes it clear that he's far more capable than Hitoshi has ever been. "We're here to drag your ass out to face the consequences!"
"Anyone want to explain?" Hitoshi shudders as the new kids crowd around him, collectively herding him towards the elevator. "I can see how you guys made it into U.A. You're all terrible at explaining things."
"You put Izuku in a tube," Ruby hits the wall near the elevator, lighting up a mostly invisible call button, glaring at Hitoshi all the while. "You get to tell his daughter."
"His what?" Hitoshi stares at the back of her head for a moment before turning to the rest. None of them bother responding with more than a cruel grin. "His WHAT?"
-0-
The S-class dorm is like Dracula's castle or Castle Grayhawk. It's made from black metal and bulletproof glass, nearly twice the size of the other buildings, and its home to a bunch of crazy people. Pretty much everyone who isn't in the heroics course has a theory about the S-class dorms.
No one in General ever guessed "mad scientist's lair". Hitoshi is kind of surprised. Someone in Support must've known something, but Hitoshi had been too busy brooding to really ask around.
"Wait, wait," Hitoshi steps out and holds up his hands. The escort group comes to a halt, giving him looks ranging from
'oh, you're approaching me?' to
'what plan are you on now, plan M?' and
'you're already convicted, you lost the right to peaceful protest'
Ruby's raised eyebrow makes him sweat more than it should, so he pulls on his tie a bit and holds his hands a bit higher. "I think I've figured out the problem."
"Have you now?" Glasses smirks.
"I've been assuming you're all reasonable people, but let's be honest: no one at UA is reasonable," Hitoshi expects one of them to punch him. Instead, they share a look, nod and shrug, and he's not sure if that's better or worse. "At least tell me: Whatever is in there, is it better or worse than the mad scientist's dungeon?"
"Appealing to our chaotic alignment, hmmm? Not bad," Glasses crosses his arms and rubs his chin. "Is Mei's lab really a dungeon?"
"I'd say it's more of a lair, but that implies that she's a supervillain." Shortest shrugs. The rest seem to consider it and collectively wrinkle their nose at the very notion.
"She's true neutral if I've ever met a true neutral," Glasses says. "How good are you with little kids, Shinsō?"
Hitoshi swallows.
"Fine? I have a baby brother, but he lives with my aunt."
"Have you built-up a resistance to cute things?" Shortest lays his practice sword over his shoulders and hangs his arms over it.
"How cute are we talking?"
"Like… Uhh…" Shortest looks at the others. Glasses shrugs.
"What's the metric for cuteness? Hours of cat videos, or like, sunshine and rainbows…?"
"You're looking at it all wrong!" One of the twins rolls her eyes. She steps out of the pack like only a woman can, giving Hitoshi a once over as if she can telepathically figure out the color of his underwear. "Yeah, he doesn't stand a chance."
Hitoshi blinks. The girl leans back, hand on her hip, and gives him the most shit-eating grin he's ever seen.
"You've cried watching happy pound animals getting adopted."
"Lies." Hitoshi feels his cheeks heating up, but he gives it a shot anyway. The girl winks and struts back to her sister like she isn't a fucking mind reader. "Telepathy isn't fair."
"She's not telepathic, just scary." Shortest mutters.
"Wait, how were we looking at it all wrong?" Glasses looks a little miffed about the whole thing, but Hitoshi is too busy wrestling with the feeling of being violated to give it much thought.
"Cuteness doesn't have a metric, it's subjective." Scary twin shrugs.
"Who DOESN'T think pound adoption videos are adorable?" Glasses mutters.
"I'd like to face the consequences now." Hitoshi sighs. "or die. Either one."
"Nice try," Ruby spins him around and gently pushes him towards the stairs. "No dying until you apologize and serve time."
The inside of the dorm is pretty nice. A pair of massive couches are set up in an L in front of a blank wall and a pair of nice wooden dining tables are set up in the kitchen. Everything is black and white- black metal floor, spotless white walls, black metal pillars, white cabinets, black metal counter, sink, and refrigerator, white vases filled with flowers…
It's eerie, but homey.
Four people are sitting at one of the tables when Ruby shoves Hitoshi through the door. Hitoshi recognizes Kurobayashi-sensei, otherwise known in the general department as Shark-sensei, but he's never seen the two women. A bundle of red and white is wrapped up in the green-haired woman's arms, but Hitoshi isn't really sure that's a person.
Shark-sensei and the brunette look up when they walk in- well, Shark-sensei blinks, but he's kind of looking their direction no matter what, do to the angle of his snout. The brunette frowns at Hitoshi in a way that says, "I know who you are, and I am very disappointed in you". Her eyes are a vivid blue with shifting white veins not unlike crashing waves or moving water; otherwise, she looks fairly normal. A loose baby blue shirt hangs off her shoulders, accenting her dark blue eyes and her tan skin. Not tired so much as resigned, with wrinkles that suggest she's spent a lot of time working with her hands or working retail.
Wait.
Green hair?
Hitoshi swallows audibly.
The green haired woman has been crying, by the looks of it, and her arms are wrapped tightly around that red and white bundle in a way that suggests she might not be the only one. She seems… out of place. Compared to the ominous black and white walls, the ladies are all dressed in bright colors: A thin yellow sweater is pulled on over the woman's green shirt, and the red dress-white overalls combo matches the curious red eyes peering at Hitoshi from the woman's arms.
"You've gotta be kidding me!" Hitoshi digs his heels in and pushes back against Ruby, shoving everyone he can back towards the door. Consequences be damned, he grabs Glasses by the lapel and yanks- no, Glasses does not budge, so he yanks himself down until they're nose to nose. "Why is there a little kid here?!"
"I told you," Ruby grabs Hitoshi by the collar and drags him off of Glasses and further inside. "You get to tell Izuku's daughter what you did."
"We're FIFTEEN!" Hitoshi squawks.
"Ōba-san, we brought him!" Glasses sing-songs.
Hitoshi scrambles for a bit before Ruby's hands clamp down on his arms to keep him in place. They have to be feeding these kids something different, because what the fuck is this girl's strength? She's in General!
A chair is pushed back as the woman stands up and walks towards him. She has to be Midoriya's mother- the green hair, the wide green eyes, the wrinkles around her eyes- but the child in her arms looks like no one from U.A. They look at Hitoshi cautiously, as if they're uncertain what to expect from him despite their steady approach.
He flinches as they get closer. Midoriya's mother HAS been crying. The loud sniff that escapes her hits harder than any of Midoriya's friends ever could.
"Can you let him go, please?" Midoriya-san looks at Glasses and Ruby with a faint smile. "He doesn't look dangerous."
Hitoshi almost falls over when Ruby lets him go. Someone laughs, but Hitoshi can barely hear it over the blood rushing through his ears.
"Hi," It comes out strangled, betraying his racing heart, and he takes a moment to clear his throat and straighten his tie before he meets her eye again. "Sorry. I— H-hello. My name is Shinsō Hitoshi… You're Midoriya-san?"
"You can call me Inko," Midoriya-san grins- it's so much different from that strained-but-grateful smile from a moment ago- and adjusts the child on her hip with a wry giggle. "Everyone calls me by my name or calls me 'mom', even Aizawa-kun's students. We've all but adopted those troublemakers behind you."
"Troublemakers?" Glasses chuckles. "Flattery will get you everywhere, ōba-san!"
Midoriya-san's smile pulls at the edges. When she turns back to Hitoshi—
No, Hitoshi wants to scream, don't look at me like that.
—her expression hasn't changed at all.
It is no secret that people can be cruel- Humans are creatures of habit. We often dance on the line between kindness and cruelty without realizing just how badly that razor edge can cut. Children can be even more so.
Hitoshi's parents have always been supportive of his quirk and his dream. They're kind people; his father manages a small grocery store, and his mother is a public defender. With role models like these, what else would he have wanted to be?
When someone blamed his quirk for the first time, Hitoshi was surprised. He'd been a quiet kid, but he'd never been a bully or a stand-offish type. As he grew up, he encountered it more and more often.
He learned to expect it.
He learned to keep his distance.
There's no way to explain the weight of expectations. Hitoshi is the quiet type- he's heard it all. Kids talk about the expectations of their parents or their teachers; lovers talk about the expectations of their partner; workers talk about the expectations of their bosses.
"Weak" quirks complain about "strong" quirks.
Hitoshi has everything: kind parents, a nice home, he's never had trouble at school. A "strong" quirk.
He isn't sure when he loses sight of his dream. No, he doesn't lose sight of it- he'll be a hero no matter what. But it no longer makes him feel like he can fly. Gradually it feels less like a dream and more like spite.
Does he have the right to complain?
They're just casual comments.
He shouldn't take it personally.
Everyone is just joking.
He's not a puppet master or a fischerman or a salesman.
But… none of them are wrong… are they?
He feels something like the fountain near the supermarket. It's a grimy old thing, ornate and ancient and not a wishing well at all, but the bottom is full of coins no matter how many fliers they put up. When he was young, his father told him that wishing wells were all about belief: sure, the old thing wasn't SUPPOSED to be a wishing well, but what did that matter, so long as people believed it?
Hitoshi's dad believes in him.
But while his mom and dad are throwing coins, the rest are throwing stones. "Casual comments" and "friendly jokes" and "harmless questions" thrown into the back of Hitoshi's mind like stones thrown into a wishing well. After a little while, it's not surprising that he's started to crack under the weight.
There's no way to explain the weight of expectations. Plenty of people mean well; maybe they don't know better. Envy and imagination are just as human as hope and happiness.
Hitoshi is going to be a hero.
He'll do it despite the weight of everyone's expectations.
He'll do it by himself, if he has to… because heroes don't drag others down.
Heroes make other people's wishes come true.
"Midoriya-san," Hitoshi croaks. Does his best to stand up straight, despite the knots in his windpipe, and accidentally meets the little girl's eyes.
"Oh, sorry, Shinsō-kun," Midoriya-san sighs as she looks at the child in her arms. "This is Eri, my foster daughter."
"Um… hello?" Hitoshi stammers. Eri looks at him uncertainly.
"Eri-chan, please say hello," Midoriya-san's eyebrows pinch together.
"No, that's—" Hitoshi coughs, then takes a deep breath and bows sharply at the waist. "I'm sorry, Midoriya-san. Your son is asleep… I mean, he's in some kind of coma, and it's completely my fault. I don't deserve your kindness."
"Shinsō-kun," Midoriya-san's voice is quiet at first, then exasperated. "Shinsō-kun, please stand up. What did you all tell him? I swear, you're worse than Katsuki sometimes!"
Hitoshi straightens up slowly. When Midoriya-san looks at him she looks exasperated, but fond. For a moment she's swatting playfully at Glasses and the others, but then it's turned on him and yep, that smile is for him too.
"I don't know what these kids have been telling you, Shinsō-kun, but my son is a bit of a trouble magnet. Whatever's going on… Whatever happened, he'll come back. And if ANYONE is going to get trouble when he wakes up," Midoriya-san grins mischievously. "It'll be the ones making you feel guilty."
Hitoshi stares. If his jaw drops… well, he's not sure how this lady is taking this so well.
"Don't stare, honey, you'll catch flies!" Midoriya-san giggles when his jaw snaps shut. "Principal Nezu told me you'll be moving in, so let me know if I can get anything that would make you more comfortable. They brought all your things to room 203, I hope you don't mind. We don't actually have too many students in here since… well, I suppose that's a good thing. Things have been so busy lately."
Hitoshi watches as Midoriya-san makes her way towards the kitchen, sitting Eri down in the empty chair and bustling about as if everything is absolutely fine. When the shock fades, he rubs his eyes and turns to Glasses.
"Is she supposed to sparkle like that?"
"She does that," Glasses snickers and slaps him on the shoulder. "Welcome to the family, heretic."
Hitoshi is still reeling when the chair squeaks again. Eri walks slowly, gripping the hem of her skirt in both hands as she bites her lip. For a moment he's worried that she's afraid of HIM; Hitoshi doesn't know if he could stand that, even if he deserves it. One look at the adults proves that they're going to let her do this, and Hitoshi already knows the gremlins behind him have been hoping for this.
"Hi there." Good start, jackass. Real friendly.
"Hi…" The little girl looks over her shoulder for a moment (looking for courage or permission) before she turns back to him and releases her skirt. With her little fists balled up at her sides, she frowns up at Hitoshi and takes a breath. "Did- Did you talk to Nii-chan?"
"Nii-chan?" Hitoshi swallows his fear and shoves his hands in his pockets. "Um… You mean Midoriya, right… Yeah, I… I wanted to talk to him, but now he's… asleep. I might have hurt him."
"Was it your quirk?" Eri can't stand to look at him, apparently, so she looks at the floor instead. Hitoshi squeezes his eyes as tightly as he can, hoping that maybe the headache will feel better than the onslaught of heart wrenching guilt.
"Yes." A breath escapes him; a long, shaky breath that threatens to expose—
Something grabs his sleeve.
Eri still won't look at him, but she's closed the gap so that she can tug at his arm. Hitoshi's body obeys without thinking (He might be an asshole, but he's not a monster, who could say no to this little girl?) and Eri grips his hand with everything she has.
"I've hurt people with my quirk too," Eri whispers. "But, but Nii-chan always says, he says that sometimes we can't help it if we hurt people. Because we're strong."
"I'm not..." Hitoshi chokes.
"Me neither," Eri swallows. "Not like Nii-chan. My quirk hurts people… but Nii-chan says my quirk is like a knife, so I'm gonna get strong and use it to help people instead."
When Eri looks up at him, Hitoshi wonders if she's used her quirk to cut him open and close her grubby little hands around his still-beating heart. The pain in her eyes is clear, but there's hope too.
Hope like nothing Hitoshi has ever seen.
He squats down to look her in the eye, trying his very best not to cry because somehow this little girl is keeping HER shit together. Glasses will never let him live it down if they realize that this little kid is taking everything better than Hitoshi.
"You're already plenty strong, kid," Hitoshi's throat is a broken mess at this point, but he manages a croak. "I'm really sorry about your brother."
"He'll come back." Eri says it like she's telling him the color of the sky, and Hitoshi doesn't know if he could correct her if she said anything other than 'blue'. "Nii-chan always keeps his promises."
"He sounds like a great big brother." Hitoshi chuckles.
"The best," Eri whispers, taking a step and throwing her arms around Hitoshi's shoulders. When she trembles, he does his best to return the hug and rub her back. It's not easy since he's also doing his best not to cry.
"I hope I get to meet him one day."
-0-
Hitoshi spends the rest of that night hiding from the hero students, who are… awkward at best. It's no surprise: he put their new classmate in a tube. Granted, they should be more worried about the crazy chick keeping said classmate in a tube, but Hitoshi recognizes a losing battle when he sees it.
The fact that Midoriya-san and Eri don't hate his guts is more than he deserves.
A fact that keeps him up most of the night and drives him straight to the laboratory the next morning. He can feel eyes watching him from the shadows under the catwalk despite keeping his eyes firmly on the far wall of the lab. On the platform he hesitates, staring at the blur of holograms flying through the air.
"Good morning, Shinsō-san. How may I assist you?"
Hitoshi barely bites back his scream. The floating eyeball is once again purple, though Hitoshi has no idea if it's a joke or just the machine's preference.
"Um… I didn't get your name?"
"You may call me Monitor. It is nice to formally make your acquaintance."
"Good to meet you, I guess," Hitoshi sighs. "I need some help."
"Mother will be busy until later. I can take a message if you'd like."
"No, that's fine. She's fine." If the relief shows on his face, the machine doesn't comment. "I'm… not really equipped for the Hero course."
"Yes, I believe everyone knows that."
"Do you have anything that can, like… help me get ready faster?" Hitoshi isn't really sure what he's looking for. But this is the only thing he can think of, considering he's the designated lab rat.
"Nothing that I can use without Mother's authority or Ms. Shield's permission."
"Damn it."
"You looking to get stronger, heretic?"
Hitoshi looks up as Glasses-who's-not-from-Heroics steps off the stairs. The kid's smile is almost as shit eating as it was yesterday, so Hitoshi's day is probably already ruined.
"What's it to you?"
"You should have said something!" Glasses slaps his shoulder hard enough to send Hitoshi staggering.
"I thought you were going to beat me to a pulp." Hitoshi mutters.
"Only if you'd made Eri cry," Glasses looks up, at Monitor and at Hatsume, then frowns. "Let's get out of here. We can talk on the way."
"What? Uh," Hitoshi doesn't actually have a choice. Glasses drags him towards the stairs at power-walking speeds, fast enough that Hitoshi nearly trips over the top step. "Hey, slow down, shit!"
When the door shuts behind them, Glasses turns to Hitoshi with the most serious expression he's seen since that Ruby chick tried to beat his face in.
"We can't talk in any of the buildings without Monitor listening in," Glasses grumbles a bit and shrugs. "Honestly we can't talk anywhere without him listening in, but I'll take my chances outside."
"Should I be concerned?" Hitoshi feels dread creeping up his throat.
"I mean… Look, if you were anyone else, I'd say no, but Monitor and Mei-I aren't shy about the whole 'world domination' thing," Glasses sighs. "If they manage to replicate your quirk or something, I'd be seriously worried."
"Fuck me, right?"
"It's probably nothing," Glasses tries to smile. "I mean, quirks aren't really science. I'm not scared of the boogeyman coming and stealing my quirk, and it's not like anyone knows how to copy quirks. Mei probably would've done that by now if it was possible."
"Do things usually go as planned in your world?" Hitoshi groans.
"Good point."
The elevator dings as they reach the ground floor, and the two continue power walking out of the building. Once they're out, and far, far away from the main building, Hitoshi takes a breath.
"So, what exactly did you have in mind when you dragged me out of there?"
"You wanna get ready for the hero course, right?" Glasses smiles. Hitoshi nods. "Going to Mei isn't a bad idea, but I've been holding onto a secret weapon and I think this is exactly what you're looking for."
Hitoshi takes the wrinkled notebook carefully. It's well organized and readable, but it's pretty messy; every page has something scratched out, numbers added, and little notes scribbled in the margins. Occasionally there's artwork, which gets a lot better further in, showing different muscle groups and how movements cause said muscles to work. There's more information than there should be, but the majority of it is condensed into a simple set of actions and a number of repetitions.
A few pages in, the numbers start getting a bit… big.
"Glasses, what IS this?"
"Izuku's workout journal." Glasses laughs at his new nickname. Hitoshi, meanwhile, feels a bit like he's been slapped with a wad of cash. "How about it, Heretic?"
"Fuck it," Hitoshi licks his lips. "What's the worst that could happen?"