4 kids, 4 stories

A guide on how to parent would be nice

Hey motherfuckers. Guess who's back to revive this fucking fanfic

Shoto's POV

The four of us quickly biked home, our stomach's full with soba and pleased grins on our face. I haven't had soba since I left. No, that's not right. I haven't had soba since mom left. Ignoring yells from pedestrians that fell victim to our fast paced biking through the sidewalks, we made our way back to our little shack in buttfuck nowhere. It was late, given the creepy hero that Hitoshi insists we don't use the honorifics of, lived on the complete opposite side of the city from our humble abode. It was just our luck that it rained hard while we were gone, leaving lots of patching up to do, most of which would need time and materials we didn't have and couldn't get given the sun was declining into rest, and much quicker than what would be suitable. I was sure we could move the tattered old car cover we used for a flooring substitute up to the roof for a quick and easy fix, but even then the stability of the drift wood wasn't strong enough for the "second floor" to hold up two boys with bellies full. We would have to huddle up together in a dog pile, on the cold, hard, and wet concrete (DONT you fucking dare make a dick joke)Since there was no way anyone would take us in, even that poor, unsuspecting hero that I snatched the wallet of for a second time will probably shoo us away after I've stolen 4000 yen from him. It seems like I wasn't the only one who had at first considered the very easily fooled pro hero as a possible candidate for a roof over our heads, as momo started whining. Which, as much as I loved her, could be just as annoying as Hitoshi sometimes described it to be kiyoka would beat my ass if she figured out I agreed with her half whit brother on that one, though. "Pleasssee? If he gave us a meal then he'll surely give us a place to stay for one single night!" However, her, rather foolish, proposition was shut down by Hitoshi as quickly as she formulated it. "Go back to the ugly smelly old man's dusty crusty and musty apartment? Yeah no, I would rather sleep in the cold, wet"(stop it) "pouring rain, like we've done thousands of nights before." "Can you even count to a thousand?" "SHUT UP KIYOKA!" "Pretty please? He didn't poison us, right? That means we can trust him, right?"
"Oh yeah sure, just because he decided not to kill 4 smelly ass street rats in his own apartment he's a complete and utter saint that we can trust with our lives and our sleeping bodies. Ever heard of the bare minimum?" "Your describing him like he's below the bare minimum." "Kiyoka I really do not need your comments right now, I'm trying to argue with your stubborn, childish girlfriend." "So would this be a bad time to tell you I may have stolen his wallet again?" "YOU WHAT? NOW HE'LL NEVER TRUST US! HE COOKED FOR US!" "Heh, nice." "This time he had like 4000 yen in here instead of just his dumb hero license that he puts no use to besides buying kids dinner." "YO, NICE! WHO WANTS NEW CLOTHES??" "Ahem." And suddenly, the arguing stopped. The banter stopped. We all turned to look to our right, where the greasy old man stood before us with arms crossed and a single eyebrow raised. "I believe one of you snatched my wallet again." They all looked at me, even numb skulled Aizawa got the memo that I was the one harboring his money and identification. Of course he tracked us down after he found out I snatched 4000 yen from him. All I could focus on was Hitoshi's quick but stern yell. "The hell are you doing? Bolt! I want new shoes!" I got the memo. The training he put me through finally came into good use, as I ran to dive under his legs, although I wasn't stupid enough to think he wouldn't catch on after the first getaway attempt. He was a pro hero after all, a smart one at that. Smart enough to track us down and find us a half hour after we ourselves got back home. No, I faked him out. Skidding to the side and snatching the messenger bag on his left, because if I was already bolting off with 4000 yen in my back pocket stolen from a pro hero, I might as well make my criminal record worth reading, and then made a run for it deep into the city. No bike would do anything for me now. I needed to get him away from my friends, pure speed would make him give up and take the "take his friends and he'll come running tactic." No, I had to give this pro a chase. I hopped onto rooftops and twisted off balconies, weaving through crowds like I was trained to do for years. Every so often I would peak behind me, making sure the pro would keep a safe distance, but still was following me and could see my route. No doubt my friends had grabbed their shit and started after me, knowing full well I would need back up at some point in the chase. To my luck, though, the latter seemed terrified of heights, so when I hopped up onto a small flower shops high window, he backed away and sat there staring at me. "Y'know, if your friends and you need new clothes, you don't have to steal my money for it. You could've just asked. Your shelter's in ruins. You wanna come back to my house? I need to have a talk with you four anyways."
I gulped, staring at the pro hero below me, thankful I saw Hitoshi and the others trailing not too far away from us.