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

Bonding Moment

Hitoshi strapped on a pair of combat boots and an aviator jacket because going out in the rain in just his Spider-Man suit had left him a shivering mess drenched in rain. Massaging his forehead as he walked through the hallway of his family's apartment, he resolved to only use Brainwashing as a last resort. No matter how much he wanted to showcase that his quirk was useful for more than villainy, he couldn't risk getting recognized.

He wandered to the kitchen cabinets and pulled out a packet of granola bars. Munching on the snacks, he aimed to get as many calories into his system as possible. At least, there was the consolation that Hitoshi wasn't going to burden his friends with vigilante activities that particular night since they had gone outside of Musutafu for their internships. Of course, they had insisted for him to call them in the case of an emergency, but that wasn't going to happen if Hitoshi had any say in the matter.

As it was, a suboptimal situation had arisen, considering how Hitoshi had garnered unwanted attention. And worst of all, the public had chosen a horrible name for him. The Cosplayer. Hitoshi shuddered. Sure, he knew that vigilantes rarely got to pick their own monikers, but the one he'd gotten stuck with made him want to sink into the ground out of complete and utter shame.

While Hitoshi stuffed his keys in his jacket pocket, a bright voice sounded from the opposite end of the kitchen. "Are you sneaking out to see A BOY?"

Scooting behind the counter, Hitoshi made sure his legs weren't visible. Even though Dad was a tight-leather-pants enthusiast, Hitoshi had a feeling that the spider-print spandex would stir Dad's suspicions. Then, Hitoshi's cheeks went candy-apple red as he started to fully process Dad's words. He didn't know what was worse – having Dad think he was a horny teenager or a crime-fighting vigilante.

Hitoshi froze like the rainbow static effect on a television. "Ehhhhhhh..."

"Oh, my God! You're all grown up now!" Dad clasped his hands together and leaned over the counter, forcing Hitoshi to bend his knees awkwardly to keep his costume out of view. "Who is it? Kaminari. I bet it's him."

"Uh. Sure." With sweat bleeding from his hairline, Hitoshi gritted his teeth. "You guessed right, Dad."

"Well, I do have excellent instincts." Dad nodded proudly before giving pause. "Wait, Shou's probably gonna rip him a new one. But don't worry I'm great at keeping my lips sealed."

Hitoshi raised a brow. "Uh-huh."

"Don't give me that look, Hitoshi. Hand on my heart, I'm not going to spill the beans."

"Thanks, Dad," Hitoshi sighed. Grabbing the granola bar wrappers he tossed them into the rubbish bin with perfect aim. Dad's eyes went wide but he didn't comment on it.

Instead, he shot a finger gun at Hitoshi. "Just remember to use protection."

"Gah, not this sort of conversation again."

Dad cheekily stuck his tongue out as he fetched a glass of water and strode out the doorway. As soon as Dad had left the kitchen, a weight fell from Hitoshi's chest. Cracking his knuckles, Hitoshi approached the nearest window. Time to get back to business.

Brown coffee stains bled through Hitoshi's mask, making it look as if he had either gouged on chocolate or had decided to smear shit all over his face. Panting, Hitoshi sprinted across the tiles of a rooftop before leaping off and rolling under a bridge. Nonetheless, footsteps still echoed behind him. Damn it.

Can't he have even the little things in life? A five-minute coffee break was all Hitoshi had asked for. Instead, Uncle Shouta had caught sight of him, and it was a miracle Hitoshi hadn't burned himself when he got started and spilled his drink. Hitoshi scowled at the recognizable webbing design on his outfit that undoubtedly made him a target for his uncle. Still, he refused to part with the costume that now felt like a second skin. Sure, the Spider-Man attire was a little on the nose considering his power set – but can you blame him for getting attached?