No, it's you and you alone.

Chapter Three

Hitoshi has his shirt hiked up around his shoulders as he applies bruise cream across his torso. The cracked mirror in his foster home paints a picture of deep yellow and purple bruises, healing far too slowly. The bruises are bad enough for him to justify using the last remaining balm in the beat up tube.

Hitoshi sighs, he’ll have to buy more if he wants to take training seriously. He can’t afford to leave them to heal on their own anymore. The  reminder of money turns his thoughts towards how much he has, or rather, how little he has.

It's there in the unclean, decrypt bathroom where Hitoshi gets the idea. He can get a job, the idea is so simple it's a wonder he didn’t consider it before. It will be hard, sure, but it's his only option right now and not too unflattering of an idea.

It will allow him to scavenge enough change for proper meals, medical items and even some things for Aiko. New books, pencils, uniforms for her, he never liked that she had so little possessions. What she did have was beat up and old, Aiko could do with some nice things in her life for once.

The purple eyed teen huffs out a laugh through the muzzle. Everything was starting to fit into place.

He will have to hide the job from Aizawa, he doesn't want the man to have to work his schedule around it and Hitoshi is sure he will just be told to drop the job if the teacher finds out. Besides, It should be easy to balance, no need to concern him over nothing.

He can wake up early to fit in the new workouts and then head to school. After school can be taken up by training and then the part time job. And then homework can be after his job. Crap. Okay so it might be a bit hard to fit everything in but Hitoshi is not a quitter. Besides, it's not like he sleeps a whole ton anyway. Hitoshi will just have to work hard. It's for his dream so he can take a little sacrifice, right?

Throwing the empty tube into the trash, Hitoshi pulls out a roll of bandages and methodically wraps his chest back up, pressing lightly and coming to the conclusion that they are probably healed enough that he won't have to worry too hard about training today. Provided he isn’t kicked right in the chest, he can probably get away with it.

-

Hitoshi gasps in pain as he is kicked swiftly in the chest, breath rushing out of him. Aizawa’s form towers over him as Hitoshi hits the ground with a thud. Fuck, I jinxed myself, is the only thought rushing through Hitoshi’s head as he staggers back upwards.

A breath huffs out of the purple haired teen, “Sorry Aizawa-sensei, I’m still a bit sore from the sport festival.”

Aizawa offers him a hand up, eyeing him carefully when Hitoshi winces. “What happened? You didn’t take any huge hits from Midoriya, did you?”

“Yeah, it wasn’t from Midoriya, it was from the obstacle race at the start. I wasn’t expecting the robots again, they caught me off guard and I got hit in the ribs. I’m fine though! It’s practically healed already, just a bit tender.” Hitoshi looks away from the teacher's piercing gaze, hoping that he hadn’t been watching Hitoshi during the beginning parts of the sports festival.

Aizawa let out a faint hum, “You still should have told me, Shinsou, even if it wasn’t serious, I could have avoided your ribs.”

A sharp pang of annoyance ran through Hitoshi, “I’m fine, I don’t need a handicap, I can handle it.” His annoyance shows a bit in his voice, sentences short and clipped.

Hitoshi brushes the dirt off clothes for lack of a better thing to do, feeling Aizawa’s gaze on him.

That was the worst thing about becoming the underground hero’s mentee, nothing ever seemed to slip past his notice. Hitoshi would have to be very careful, it kept him on edge. Don’t get too comfortable, Hitoshi reminds himself.