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Hitoshi Shinsou didn't realize when it truly got bad, because his head was underwater and it slipped into his ears and nose, drowning him with force that felt so loving yet sick

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Hitoshi Shinsou didn't realize when it truly got bad, because his head was underwater and it slipped into his ears and nose, drowning him with force that felt so loving yet sick. Perhaps it was the first time she slapped him, or when she grabbed his hair when he was forced to bow in forgiveness, or when she yelled at him until her voice was gone and he was out of tears to cry.

He promises that she's just having a bad time and that he's not making it easy for her; yet it's so hard to admit that he doesn't even feel human around her. His friends have strayed away, him mostly focused on anything to make her happy, yet he always finds himself on a park bench at 4 am; cheap beer in his hands, bruises against his neck, and eyes brimmed with tears. He accepts her comfort like a dehydrated man with water, and he takes her punishment until he's conditioned to it.

He knows that he can defend himself, that he can brainwash people for fuck's sake! That he is so much more taller and more powerful and he can fight her as if she was any villain, yet he cowers when her breath smells like liquor and her nails look like stilettos, sharp and fuck, his jaw stings from the thought.

He forgives her all the time in the morning, because she cries and tells him to forgive her and that she won't do it again, and he welcomes her with a hug and loving 'it's okay, I love you'.

Today he's in the same spot; hair rustled where she grabbed him and temple red from where she hit him, beer in his hands as he stares emptily at the ground and wonders.. what is he fucking doing? He's MindWash the underground fucking hero! Yet here he is, brink of tears because he can't handle it anymore; but who is he to tell?

He's too busy sulking to notice that his eyebrows were scrunched, and he nearly crushes his beer.

He's fought against Yakuza, against the remnants of whatever League of Villains, yet he can't take his girlfriend slapping him a couple times? Pathetic.

Be stronger, Aizawa didn't waste his breaths mentoring you to end up like this.

Hitoshi is too into his head when he realizes someone has joined him, seated on the bench beside him with a can of guava juice, sipping peacefully. The person has distinct blonde hair, eyes lidded only halfway as they lounged, obvious pajama pants on with Pokemon socks slid into obnoxiously orange crocs.

Their eye bags are severe, as if they've pulled an all-nighter through the entire month. Not as crazy as Hitoshi though, yet this stranger would perhaps snatch second place for how goddamn tired he seems.

The blonde catches Hitoshi's curious glance, and seems almost shocked, as if he didn't notice him but cools down with a brace-filled smile.

"Ah hah hah... what's up!" His voice sounds energetic, completely opposite to what he looks like. "I really wasn't expecting anyone to be out tonight, deadass just finished work and my sugar rush did not want me sleeping."

It's casual talk, Hitoshi recognizes as the man drink more of the fruity drink.

"I.. I guess you can say the same for me," The insomniac attempts, "just exhausted and needed to cool down."

"I totally get what ya' mean!" Hitoshi noticing the blue in the braces and bands tightening as the blonde chirped in reply. "Winding down for me is usually running until my lungs burst, but today is just not it for me."

The purple-haired man understands, realizing the small Pikachu print littering the pajama pants. Or the random anime sprawled on the other's tee-shirt, ultimate lazy wear.

"I can understand," The man doesn't seem to mind when Hitoshi points out the black bolt in the blonde bangs, though the purple-haired man is trying hard not to be obvious about it.

"Looks neat yeah? Doctors said it was genetic, came with my quirk!"

Hitoshi is kinda jealous how easy the blonde gets into the conversation, meanwhile in the back of his head; he can hear her whisper what to say, whisper permission for him to even speak.

It seems Hitoshi can't answer to the blonde's comment, but he doesn't mind; standing up and stretching.

"It was super cool chatting with you man, it'd be rad if we meet again like this! That'd be so cool." He's going to leave, to become another face that Hitoshi wishes he got to know; but the insomniac is perplexed when the shorter man's hand is in front of him and it's small yet so welcoming.

"My name's Kaminari Denki! What's yours?" God that smile is so bright.

Hitoshi is hesitant, eyes wide with surprise and cautiousness as he squints at the hand like it's going to attack himorgrabhimandhithim.

"Call me Shinsou."

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