Chapter Text
“Come on Shinsou, take a shot!” Mina shoves a tiny glass filled with some mystery, neon-yellow liquid into his hands, voice shrill and screechy the way it always gets when she’s drunk.
Not that Hitoshi has been around her when she’s drunk all that much. Just… Reunions and parties, or Friday night drinks. But since he’s an underground hero, he’s not supposed to be seen in public with too many Pros, and he’s never usually in town for those kinds of parties anyway. But his friends, Neitou and Denki and Hanta begged for him to take the New Year’s off, so here he is, back from a major mission in Osaka, exhausted, four drinks in, and only tipsy.
“Thanks Mina.” They’re not that close, but now that Mina is an adult with adult opinions apparently, she won’t allow anyone she considers a ‘friend’, to call her by her last name. Maybe that’s why everyone loves her so, or why she and Kirishima are about to get married, or why she’s always surrounded by so many people, in a way that he’ll never be able to have. He tells himself it's the casualties of the job, that he could if he wanted to, he just… Doesn’t.
“No more mopeyness! Was the Osaka mission really that bad dude?” Kirishima comes from seemingly out of nowhere, which is impressive for a guy that large. Still, he’s never going on any stealth missions, the Commission can make sure of that.
“It was fine.” Was it? Five civilian casualties that could’ve been avoided. More consequences of the job. They weren’t Hitoshi’s fault directly, but still, he was there, just a few meters away from one of his hero partners, who was trying to diffuse a bomb and fight three villains at once. The explosion made the news, but none of the heroes did, too busy running around behind the scenes to wrap up all the loose ends.
The blood is still there on Hitoshi’s hands. He scrubbed his hands raw before heading over here, but he can still feel the gross, slick feeling of the dark liquid all over his palms, threaded through his fingers, strings of fate that undeniably tell him his future. He’s no dummy. He knew what he was getting himself into when he took on the mantle of Nighthide, a hero who will never be in the spotlight, following in Aizawa’s footsteps, replacing him in the Hero Network since his retirement from heroism (although he still teaches at Yueei). But it’s hard not to resent those that stand in the limelight sometimes. How does it feel to them, to go outside and not feel awkward because everyone knows who you are, how good of a person you are? How does it feel, to go outside and know that people feel safe purely just because you’re there? When Hitoshi was a kid, he was ostracised for having a ‘villain’ quirk. And as an adult, he’s constantly tired, grouchy, and dressed as if he’s homeless, meaning most people will veer to the other side of the street if they see him outside. Every time he sees a fearful parent, steering their kids away from him, or an older citizen who automatically categorises him into ‘young and useless’ inside their head, he feels their stares like needle sharp pinpricks, jabbing into his back, wrenching his heart into something twisted and painful.
“I mean, you’re back, and in one piece. So, does that count for something?” Kirishima smiles, patting his shoulder with one huge hand. If it were hardened, it probably would’ve ripped Hitoshi’s shirt.
He doesn’t deign to mention the row of stitches across his torso, when a villain with a chainsaw quirk managed to slash him in the midst of battle. At least he still has his torso. “Yeah, it does. I saw your rescue op two weeks ago, it was on the news everywhere.”
Kirishima’s face lights up, and Hitoshi lets out an exhale. After being undercover so much, he knows how to help conversations out of their awkwardness, change topics around, and flatter the person speaking. As much as he hates to be using his hero skills in his social life (which is basically nonexistent), he can’t deny it makes things just so much easier. Hitoshi has never been good at talking about himself, but he found out quickly enough that he’s an outlier, because shifting the conversation’s focus onto someone else means they’ll quickly forget asking about him, and he can stir in his own melancholiness alone, once again.
After listening to Kirishima tell him about collapsing buildings and grateful civilians for the better part of half an hour, Hitoshi manages to get away, wrenching open the door to one of the bathrooms and slipping inside, letting out an exhale of relief and shutting his eyes, when another voice startles him.
“Shin! Didya need the toilet? Don’t worry, I’ll leave-” Itsuka Kendou smiles wide upon seeing him, leaning over the sink and peering at the mirror, applying mascara carefully to her lashes, which have always been stupidly perfect. Is it weird for a guy to be jealous of a girl’s lashes? Shouldn’t it usually be the other way around?
“No, it’s fine, I only came in here for some space.” Hitoshi shakes his head, suddenly feeling bad for intruding.
Still, Hitoshi is close with Kendou. They’ve been friends ever since Yueei, after he began being friends with Neitou, and then Kendou by extension. He found that he liked her a lot, and sometimes wished he was in Class B with her and Neitou instead of Class A, and felt comfortable around her from the start. She’s one of the few people he’ll willingly go out for coffee with, or tell about his life, and she’ll always, not only listen to him, but respond with her own thoughts and advice.
“Alright then.” Kendou nods, putting the mascara away, and pulling out a tube of lip gloss. “Heh. Want some?” She grins, waving the tube in front of his nose.
Another thing about their relationship. She always encourages him to get out of his comfort zone, to find new hobbies, to try new things, but never pushes too much if he doesn’t like the experience. It’s gratifying, having someone who understands his boundaries and limits the way Kendou does.
“Uh… I’m gonna be drinking more.” Hitoshi shakes his head, eyeing the tube warily. It’s pink, glittery, and essentially looks like Ashidou Mina in a tube. So, not really something he’d like to put on his lips.
“Come on! That means you won’t have to wear it for long! Plus, it’s plumping, so it’ll make your lips bigger.” Kendou wiggles her eyebrows in a way that is definitely not sexy, but has a certain comedic air to it. “If you kiss someone wearing this, it’ll be awesome. Tried and true.” She winks, unscrewing the tube.
Hitoshi’s heart hammers in his chest. Does she think he’s into someone? Is he into someone? He runs his brain through the list of people at this party, and comes up blank. There’s no way that there’s anyone here that Kendou could actually think he has romantic interest in. Everyone is either his friend or so obviously not his type it’s laughable. So where is she even going with this?
He lets her apply the lip gloss purely because he can think of no further reasons to turn her down other than he doesn’t want to, and is too focussed on getting drunk to feel embarrassed as the shimmery gloss coats his lips. He has to admit, it’s not a bad look, and he can feel the burn that means his lips are going to get a whole lot puffier and ‘kissable’.
“Y’know, Shin.” Kendou says conversationally, applying regular lip balm to her own lips, and dragging a brush through her hair, which is just loose, showing how much she’s let go tonight, surrounded by friends and in her own apartment, on the cusp of a new year. “I know you’ve been waiting around for someone to fall in love with.”
It’s not a surprise to Hitoshi that Kendou wants to talk about a topic like this, since other than Neitou, Kendou is the only person he’s ever entrusted with his love life. Although, he has no idea where she’s going with this, even if she is right. He does want someone to fall in love with. But with his horrendous schedule, usually shabby appearance, and a tendency to just stay home with his cats instead of going out like so many of his friends do, he never meets anyone new, doesn’t go on dates, and generally never has any interactions with the public outside of late-night/morning grocery runs or rescue operations that sometimes require disguises right out on the street.
“But have you considered maybe… A different approach?” Kendou’s head tilts, and she looks cautious, making Hitoshi wary, and he wonders what’s about to come out of her mouth. She’s not nearly as pushy about romance as someone like Mina or Denki might be, but she does have a tendency to just say whatever’s on her mind, a product of her down-to-earth personality.
“Like… Maybe stuff with a bit less commitment? Y’know… Casual stuff. And seeing where it goes?” Kendou looks like she’s trying not to smile, but also like she’s a bit nervous, so it ends up being this tight, awkward expression that makes Hitoshi’s hair stand on end.
“You mean like hookups?” Hitoshi frowns. He’s not a virgin, but well… The oasis has basically all but dried up. How is he supposed to explain to someone that he just… Doesn’t like sex? Isn’t it supposed to be what everyone is always thinking about? Denki is always talking about it, among other doofus topics. But Hitoshi has always been hooked onto that thought of love, not lust.
“Uh… I guess so. It’s just a suggestion. You don’t have to take it seriously. In fact, you can ignore it completely.” Kendou says brightly, looking like she regrets letting the words out of her mouth. “It could be non-sexual, obviously! Like, a blind date! I know a bunch of people I could set you up with… Only if you’re up for it. But… I think you could use a distraction. You pickin’ up what I’m puttin’ down?”
“Okay! I’ve gotta get back out there, I’ll kill anyone if they touch my new purse, but you’re welcome to stay in here for longer.” Kendou smiles, all niceness and grins again. She pats him on the shoulder like she’s his big sister or something, and then marches out the door, her voice becoming a shrill scream when she apparently sees Denki attempting to juggle her purse and a bunch of empty beer bottles while drunk. (Well, obviously, where d’you think the beer went?).
Hitoshi sits down on the toilet lid, leaning back, tilting his neck up to stare at the ceiling. It’s just concrete, painted over with a layer of white, a pretty typical ceiling. But right now, it seems to mirror his life, in an unfunny, metaphorical way. Is he really so desperate and single that Kendou is suggesting he should go out and get laid to find a potential partner? Because if so, then he really has hit rock bottom.
But before he can drown himself in the shower or something just as dramatic, someone pokes their head into the bathroom.
“Hitoshi! Come on! The countdown’s about to start!” Denki shouts, surprisingly stable considering the amount of drinks he’s obviously had, his cheeks flushed red and Kendou’s purse under his arm. It’s turquoise, very pretty, and Hitoshi can understand why it’s so precious to Kendou. What he can’t understand however, is why Denki is so hell-bent on messing around with it, but since the new year’s countdown is happening, which is the main reason he’s even here, Hitoshi pulls himself up and follows Denki back out into the living room/dining area, the kitchen just adjacent but all in the same space.
He’s just in time as well, because as soon as he finds a seat and a glass of something bubbly (champagne?). Everyone is jumping up and putting their arms around each other and shouting. Hitoshi’s shoulders are suddenly occupied by Denki and Hanta’s overlapping arms, and he’s being made to lift his glass up.
“Ten!”
Does Kendou have a point?
“Nine!”
Yes?
“Eight!”
Is it time he digs his head out of his ass and realise just how lonely he is?
“Seven!”
Absolutely.
“Six!”
“Five!”
“Four!”
Maybe it really is what he should do with his life. He’s so busy anyway, who is he kidding?
“Three!”
There’s no way he can do anything but casual.
“Two!”
Okay then. He’s gonna do this.
“One!”
Sure. New year, new Hitoshi.
“Happy New Year!”