hero's shadow // mha

57) tolerance

"You're going to hurt yourself like that."

To say Hitoshi screams is an understatement. He almost jumps out of his skin, a near inhuman kind of screech leaving his lips when he turns and comes face-to-face with the newcomer.

A boy with messy green hair and freckles for days stares back at Hitoshi. He has wide, glittery bottle green eyes, and immediately they have him hooked.

He knows this kid.

"Oh my God!" Hitoshi says, scrambling back to get away from Midoriya—who is currently hanging upside down from the goddamn ceiling as if he's some Spider-Man wannabe. And, c'mon, this cannot be good for his health. The ceiling is a good thirty feet above the floor, so Hitoshi is left with many questions.

One: how the hell did he manage to get up there? Two: where did he get that extremely long capture weapon (which looks suspiciously like a copy of Aizawa-sensei's own) that he's using to hold himself above the floor? Three: how long has he actually been up there? And four: why is he subjecting himself to that? Hitoshi can visibly see the blood rushing to the boy's head.

"You—you're not supposed to be here!" Hitoshi stutters out, nearly falling on his ass in his haste to put some more distance between them. "I thought the hero students were all out doing internships!"

That's what Aizawa told him, and he would know for sure, so why is this kid here? In the private gym that only he and Aizawa use for training nowadays? The very same gym that Aizawa was supposed to meet Hitoshi in... five minutes ago?

"Mine was canceled," Midoriya says, tilting his head. "Y'know, Hosu and all."

Hitoshi shakes his head. "That still doesn't explain why you—why you're here. Why aren't you, like, at your house!"

In one smooth move, Midoriya flips himself so he's on his feet and yanks the capture weapon down toward him. It comes loose from where it was tied to one of the beams near the ceiling and lands in a neat coil around his neck.

Yeah. It's definitely like the ones Aizawa has.

For a moment, Hitoshi is envious. He wants that scarf. It would just be so cool to have it.

"Because being stuck here is much more fun than being out in the free world, obviously," is the reply he gets, and is it just Hitoshi or does the boy sound a little sarcastic? "But where else would I be able to see you, Shinsou?"

At the mention of his own name, Hitoshi gulps. He's been so focused on training lately that Midoriya hasn't really crossed his mind since, well, the festival. He kind of forgot all about him. Immediately, Hitoshi sort of feels bad. If it weren't for Midoriya, he probably wouldn't have been given this chance with Aizawa, right? He wouldn't have been inspired to search for the spot.

Maybe he should be a little nicer.

"Well, now it's my turn! What are you doing here?"

Actually, no. He doesn't want to be nicer. Hitoshi is on the defensive immediately, and he feels his cheeks redden. "What, am I not allowed here or something? I can train myself if I want."

Midoriya blinks, his expression unreadable. He has that same uncanny look to him that Hitoshi first noticed upon seeing him that day in the hallway. "Never said you couldn't. I was just curious, saying as you don't exactly look like you know what you're doing." His eyes fall lower, landing on Hitoshi's half-wrapped hands. "You have bruises on your knuckles. Looks like they hurt."

"What the hell are you talking a—"

Midoriya steps closer, and Hitoshi's breath leaves him. "You're getting that hurt because you're not wrapping yourself correctly." Something mischievous flashes across his eyes. "Did Aizawa-sensei not teach you how to properly do it?"