The Graveyard Boy

In Which Hitoshi Beats Up Robots With A Pole

For almost the past year, Hitoshi had trained diligently under the pro hero Eraserhead, or his dad. He'd grown a few inches taller and Izuku's head only came up to his nose. His muscles had hardened and grown, becoming stronger with each passing day. He was agile, fast, strong. He'd practised using Aizawa's capture weapon day in and day out, and though he was far from mastery, he felt that he'd come pretty far.

It was the day of the Yuuei entrance exam, and Hitoshi was an anxious mess. He wanted to become a hero more than anything- of course he did- but what if he couldn't do it? What if this was where his dream ended?

The written exam came first, which was a relief to Hitoshi. He'd been studying for months for this, so surely he was adequately prepared. He sat next to a boy with notably bright yellow hair and a black lightning-bolt shape running across the left side of his head. The other boy looked much more panicked about this section than he did, fidgeting nervously with his pencil, cheek occasionally twitching, although he shot a smile at Hitoshi when he noticed him looking. Hitoshi silently wished him the best of luck- he seemed like he'd need it.

He'd predicted correctly- the written exam wasn't as hard as he'd feared, and the real challenge seemed to be the practical. He made his way into the changing rooms with the rest of the boys, and this was when the panic really started to set in.

The night before, he'd taken a large dose of melatonin and passed out for eight whole hours. A full night's rest must've adequately prepared him, right? There was no way he wasn't passing. No way. But his quirk wasn't physical, not even in the slightest. If he mind-controlled someone else and got them to defeat a robot for him, would that count as his point? Unlikely. He supposed he'd just have to use his training and hope for the best.

But he couldn't fail this. He had to become a hero, had to prove everyone wrong and follow his heart's desire- it was what he'd been longing for since he'd first learned what a hero was. He couldn't fail this and let down his mom, Sakura, Shouta, Hizashi, Izuku.... He couldn't.

Hitoshi slumped against the wall, the weight of the situation pressing down in a very real way on his shoulders. His eyes teared up and he cursed the way that crying was one of the symptoms of his panic attacks. Others got hyperventilating, racing heartbeats, that sort of thing, but he had to go and cry.

He took the time to clear his mind and take a few deep breaths, wiping at his eyes with the sleeves of his hoodie. Panicking wouldn't do him any good.

He heard a voice in front of him, a little near his face, but it was soft and kind. "Hey, are you doing alright?"

He cleared his eyes enough to look up and see the speaker. It was the boy he'd noticed earlier, with a kind smile on his face. "I was pretty panicked too, but I think I got through all right." He tilted his head. "I'm sure you'll do just fine."

"Oh. Thank you," he said, embarrassed of his likely blotchy cheeks and red eyes. "Sorry for crying, I just- got overwhelmed. It's a lot."

"Yeah man, it really is. Do you want me to call someone, or find a friend or something?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you though." He hated the way his voice cracked on that last word. The boy was right, he'd do fine. He'd been training for this.

Gathering himself, he stood and turned from the yellow-haired boy. "You'll be a good hero," he said, and stalked off to change. He found a bathroom to change in and got into a pair of gym shorts and a tee-shirt. He wasn't allowed fighting gear, which ruled out the capture scarf, but he hoped he might find something of use in the actual field.

His hands kept coming down to fidget with the end of his shirt as he walked out in front of the gate. He stood among a crowd of others who were getting ready, and although they all looked nervous, he was sure he looked like a wreck.