Running on Empty

I'm a walking travesty

Hound Dog greeted Hitoshi with a bark and a cup of tea. He accepted it gratefully, anything to occupy his hands and buy him time when he didn't know how to answer a question.

UA's counsellor sat across from him, in a somewhat stereotypical armchair, notebook in hand.

"Good afternoon Hitoshi," he started. "I know we met briefly the other day but I introduced myself to you as Hound Dog, if you'd prefer, you can call me by my civilian name Inui Ryou." At Hitoshi's nod he continued, "We can talk about whatever you want, or we don't have to talk at all, it's up to you. I might take notes as you speak, but they're just to refer back to in future sessions; anything you say here will be kept between the two of us, unless I think you're a danger to yourself or someone else. Do you understand?"

Hitoshi nodded, he already knew that.

"Alright then, in that case is there anything you want to talk about? Feel free to ask me any questions if it would make you more comfortable to talk to someone you know a little."

Hitoshi thought for a minute, there was a question that had been niggling at the back of his mind that he wanted to ask. Hizashi had assured him that Hound Dog knew sign language, so he placed his tea on the low table between them, deciding it was as good a place to start as any. "Why do you wear a muzzle?"

Hound Dog tilted his head, "A few reasons. Primarily because I can't always control my quirk when I get angry, the canine side can take over. In that sense it's just a precaution, but also civilians are sometimes scared by me, so it's better for rescues as well."

"Do you have to wear it all the time?"

"No." Hitoshi was finding it difficult to read the guy's expressions, but he was pretty sure the widening of his eyes was indicative of surprise. "I can take it off whenever I want... Would you be more comfortable if I removed it?"

Hitoshi shrugged, and then nodded hesitantly. Every time he looked at it he was reminded of all the time he spent in one.

He watched as Inui reached behind his head and fiddled with something, the mask falling slack a second later. He placed it on the side of the chair and then sent what was probably supposed to be a smile his way, in reality, he just kind of bared his teeth at Hitoshi, but he appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.

"So you choose to wear it?" Hitoshi spoke this time, quietly, unsure.

"Yes. It's my choice." The hero confirmed.

"It doesn't hurt?"

"No, it's padded on the inside, and as comfortable as a muzzle can be." He's sure the counsellor didn't miss the way he flinched at the word. "Would you like to have a look?"

He handed the mask to Hitoshi who held it with shaking hands. He ran a finger along the soft interior and the resilient leather of the outside. It was sturdy, but not unyielding. Not confining. There were no sharp metal edges or complex locks. Just a simple catch and three strips of elastic going up each side so that he could still talk.

It was something to help, not something to hurt.

He handed it back to the hero, tearing his eyes away and rapidly blinking to clear the tears that had threatened to fall.

How could something that had always been such an object of fear and the cause of so many nightmares for him be so soft?

"Would you like to tell me about your experiences with one?" Hound Dog suggested and Hitoshi realised that he actually did. He wanted to see what the therapist would have to say, considering his own, distinctly more positive opinion of the thing.

And so he did. He started with the first time that he was ever muzzled, only four years old and so very confused. His mother cried as she did it, and his father couldn't even bear to be in the room. He didn't understand yet, he'd only had his quirk a few months.

He was still wearing it when they left, unable to find the key and unable to ask for help without a voice. It was days before he was found, almost starved to death and dehydrated, curled up in his wardrobe and shivering.

He probably would have died if his neighbour hadn't seen the lights on and assumed that someone had broken into the recently vacated house.

When his social worker found out his identity they put it right back on him. And just like that, it became a part of his daily life in almost every home he stayed in. Some of them didn't use it, but they punished him for speaking to the extent that they might as well have, that he'd almost have preferred it if they had.

He'd been stuck with the first one for years, even when it was way too small and gave him a headache from the pressure, not to mention the way it would dig into the skin of his face, leave his jaw aching for days. He was actually grateful when his social worker got a new one because they physically couldn't do it up any more.

Inui was patient, and he listened to everything Hitoshi said, offering his input wherever it felt right.

When Hitoshi got to the end of the story, when Eraserhead cut the muzzle off of him on that rooftop, Hound Dog nodded and growled lightly. Hitoshi interpreted it as a sort of hum of acknowledgement. The hero titled his head again, assessing Hitoshi not unlike the way Shouta did, as though he was interpreting the very fibres of his being and trying to make sense of them.

"You're still afraid of it." He observed, and Hitoshi frowned in question. "I've seen the way you interact with other people, sometimes there are things you want to say, conversations you want to get involved in that you don't. I was going to bring it up at some point, but I think I've figured it out. Even if it's not a conscious decision, there's a part of you that thinks if you talk too much one day Aizawa-san or Yamada-san is going to turn around and muzzle you."

Hitoshi opened his mouth to protest, say that he knows they'd never do that, but he couldn't deny that there was a tiny voice in the back of his head saying it was better to be safe than sorry, keep the risk to a minimum, don't annoy them or they won't want you anymore.

He just looked at the floor instead, unsure what to say. He hadn't even realised he was doing it.

"Okay," Inui said as gently as his quirk allowed him to, "here's what I want you to do: from now on, if you have something you want to say, but you feel like you should hold back, I want you to take a deep breath, and then say it. Even if it's quiet that's okay, even if no one hears it, that's alright. We're gonna take this one step at a time and work towards getting you to a point where you don't worry about that anymore."

To be honest, the very prospect of that terrified Hitoshi. But the idea of going the rest of his life with the fear that Shouta and Hizashi would do such a thing was even more terrifying, so he'd do his best to conquer that nightmare.

It didn't occur to him until much later that he hadn't thought twice before assuming they would stick around for so long.