My name is Shinsou Hitoshi, and I was bitten by a radioactive spider

Origin Story

The sterile bedroom ceiling drilled into Hitoshi's eye sockets, seemingly taunting him over his pounding migraine. He shut his eyelids and instead fixated on the warmth of Cappuccino, the family cat, curled up on his chest. Running a hand over cream-colored fur, Hitoshi let out a wistful sigh. Think calm thoughts.

Yet flashes of landmines on the obstacle coursed through his mind. Images of fire and ice swirling in the arena. Adrenaline pumped through Hitoshi's veins at the memory of Midoriya almost stepping out of bounds. Apparently, it was one of those nights. Sleep would be wishful thinking at best, impossible at worst.

Hitoshi relented and gently shoved Cappuccino aside. The tendons in his legs ached despite the irony of spending most of the Sports Festival being carried atop the backs of his peers. Still, a smirk reminiscent of his uncle crawled across his face as he slipped on a hoodie over his pajamas.

Because he'd shown that even with a villainous quirk, he'd made it to the one-on-one battles. And if he listened to his uncle's advice about exercising more, the hero course could become a reality rather than a distant dream.

The floorboards creaked as Hitoshi slipped on his sneakers waiting by the front door. A groggy voice broke through the near silence accompanied by the rush of the air conditioner. "Where are you going, Hitoshi?"

Atop the couch, Uncle Shouta lay. Almost unrecognizable save for the tuffs of black hair peeking out from the cocoon of bandages. His head rested against his husband's shoulders, and upon noticing that Hizashi's glasses were slipping, Shouta set them onto the coffee table. Hitoshi shuddered as he sensed his uncle's glare despite Shouta's mummified state.

"Getting coffee. Can't fall asleep anyhow so might as well make sure I have the energy to do homework or something."

For a split second, Shouta held his chin high – as if proud that Hitoshi had decided to spend his sleepless nights in a productive manner. Until he snapped out of it and grumbled, "Caffeine won't help with insomnia."

"What can I say? I learned my habits from a pro."

"Touché." Uncle Shouta reached beneath the coffee table and tossed Hitoshi a can of pepper spray. "Be safe out there, kid."

Catching the can, Hitoshi wiggled his brows. "Wouldn't I be safer with say... a capture weapon?"

Red eyes flashed at Hitoshi, making his shoulders slump amid the reality that Uncle Shouta hadn't fallen for his ruse. Chuckling slightly, Uncle Shouta snuggled against Hizashi's shoulder. In spite of his penchant for being loud, Hizashi's snores were as quiet as a whisper. With a grin, Shouta shooed Hitoshi out the door.

"Can't have you trying to swing from rooftops and ending up in a dumpster. I needed six years to learn how to use it for a reason."

"But you'll teach me eventually, right?" Hitoshi asked as a note of hope entered his voice.

"Of course, kid," Shouta said. "Now, go get your caffeine."

Waving goodbye to his uncle, Hitoshi stuffed a ring of keys into his pocket. "Will do. And I'll grab some for you too."

Outdoors, the chill of the nighttime air hit Hitoshi's face. Craning his neck, he eyed the outlines of constellations obscured by Musutafu's light pollution. He reveled in the breeze rustling against his hoodie's sleeves. A blissful change of pace after spending most of the day basking in sweat beneath the searing sun.

Ahead of him, the neon sign shone like a beacon. Stepping past the sliding doors he gave the cashier a curt nod and plucked Uncle Shouta's preferred brand of instant coffee from a display near the entrance. Like a moth drawn to the flame, he headed toward the coffee aisle. For a moment, Hitoshi stood frozen – overwhelmed by the sheer variety of technicolor labels. After all, choosing the best coffee brand and getting his money's worth was an important matter. And unlike Uncle Shouta, Hitoshi had standards that went beyond purchasing the cheapest coffee the store carried.