A lifetime away
Kakashi’s feet carried him forwards into a sprint before his mind even caught up.
It was her.
And he wasn’t alone.
He wasn’t alone.
He wasn’t alone anymore.
He had lived for 32 years as a shinobi, but perhaps the 15 years he had spent here had dulled his senses; because for some odd reason he couldn’t find it in him to approach more slowly or more carefully.
So, despite everything in him telling him not to, he sprinted and leapt to her side, and as she turned to face him, he pulled her into a hug. He placed a hand on the back of her head and pushed it down into his shoulder - just like when she was only at the height of his chest. Her hair tickled his nose, she had grown taller…and he had grown shorter.
He felt a pang in his heart…she grew up…and he wasn’t there to see it.
“It’s me, Sakura”
The name was disgustingly unfamiliar on his tongue. But his heart ached with recognition. He felt his heart race as he held her close.
She was here, and he was no longer alone.
The hand on her head gripped tightly. He felt every strand of hair on her head and he pushed her head harder into his shoulder. He could feel her muscles tense at her name with the hand he held on her back. She was real, she had to be. He breathed deeply, the smell of blood and war stuck to her. It was a familiar smell, it was a shame she had to go through it.
He repeated, softer this time - more for his sake than her’s, “It’s me…it’s me”
He felt his own chest rising and falling as he breathed deeply, trying to get himself under control.
She was here.
And he wasn’t alone.
Kakashi had done well to adjust to life here…after 15 years he even started to view this place at home. But, one glimpse of the pink head of hair and the emerald green eyes…and the jonin uniform - god, he used to wear it everyday - and any sense of comfort or homeliness he felt from this world was ripped out of his grasp.
Because after 15 years, he finally remembered what home truly felt like.
-
When he felt her tense again, this time gripping the back of his shirt tightly, he decided he should speak before she cracked his spine in half, “It’s Kakashi” Hitoshi
Instantly, she froze under his hands.
He let her pull away slowly.
When she did, he finally got a good look at her. If he hadn’t trained his tears away, he would have sobbed. She looked exactly the same. Her face was covered in dirt and dried blood, but it was her. It was Sakura, it was his student.
His eyes travelled across her face, memorising every detail of it. He was tempted to expose his sharingan now to make sure he never forgot her face. He was afraid this was all a dream, that he would wake up in his bed, in his room, in the dark…and he would be left with the distant memories of home…again.
Slowly he brought a hand up to cup her cheek, “Sakura”
She was a Jonin now, evident by her uniform. The last time he had seen her, she was still a chunin, training under Lady Tsunade…now…his gaze was drawn to the small metal bracelet tied around her wrist, one that was reserved for medics, more specifically, head medics. And then, he noticed her headband…tied on the top of her head, it wasn’t Konoha’s symbol. It was the Kanji for Shinobi.
There was something else too…right in the middle of her forehead was a diamond. It was the byakugou seal… the strength of a hundred healings. How far had she grown?
He decided to save the questions for later.
Reincarnating into this world was enough practice for him to not be surprised by anything anymore…although, Sakura’s appearance here was certainly enough to shock him. Still, questions were best saved for a more…discreet location.
Her eyes stared unblinking at him and for a moment he wondered if she remembered who he was…how long had it been for her? Had it been 15 years, just like it was for him? She didn’t look much older than what he remembered, but could a war have taken place so soon after the attack on Konoha?
As good as Sakura was as a medic, unless Lady Tsunade was fulfilling her duties as the Hokage on the battlefield, she wouldn’t be the head medic. That meant either Lady Tsunade was out of commission or there was a war.
She pulled away from his palm and shook her head as she backed away. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion and anger. Kakashi felt a stake go through his heart.
Her eyes travelled across his body and he wished he had been wearing his hero costume, it would certainly be more familiar to her than the loose hoodie and jeans he was wearing right now, he hadn’t planned on doing anything important… and he didn’t have time to change .
Her voice was steady and calm, “You’re not him, you’re not him. Who are you? Answer me now”
He let her make space between them, “Kakashi Hatake, identification 812011511” he paused, letting her take it in, “…I may look a little different but it’s me”
The numbers had been drilled into him since he was old enough to understand words, it was his identification as a Shinobi of Konoha. It was also a way for easy identification between Konoha shinobi on long haul infiltration missions.
His heart cracked slightly when Sakura took another step back as her eyes were filled with another emotion, fear.
“Is this some kind of sick joke?” her voice was less steady now, the cracks in her confidence beginning to show.
And then, for the second time today, Kakashi felt the sense of homesickness, buried deep within his gut, start to unearth itself again. For the first time in 15 years, he felt it. He felt it clear as day.
Chakra.
The warm and powerful life energy that he had had coursing through his body for the entirety of his first life. He clenched his jaw, trying to force the feeling of homesickness down.
It felt like he had a part of his body ripped out of him. He would never feel the chakra coursing inside of him again. He only felt it on the surface of his skin as she attempted to spread out her chakra through the surroundings.
“Sakura, it’s me…not a genjutsu”
She shook her head and placed her arm in front of her, “Stay away from me…you - this - this isn’t real…you don’t even have a chakra system”
His heart ached. He didn’t. He lost his chakra when he was born here, and it left a hole in his heart.
He breathed deeply, recalling memories from a long bygone past. Memories he couldn’t forget, no matter how hard he tried. Memories he was glad he didn’t forget.
“When Sasuke left the village, I was the one who found you lying on the bench. I carried you back to your house…and you asked me if he was going to come back.” he paused, inspecting her face for any reaction to his words; like the great shinobi she was, there was none.
He took a step towards her as his eyes searched for any semblance of recognition, “I told you that even if it took all of Konoha’s forces, he would come back eventually be-”
“Because it’s Naruto’s ninja way”
She completed his sentence and Kakashi felt a wave of warmth fill him.
Sakura’s lips quivered slightly as she took a step forwards and searched his face for any aspect of a lie.
“Is that really you, Sensei?”
Slowly, he nodded. Suddenly, he felt unfamiliar in this new body of his. It felt too frail and short, too unskilled and scarless. Right now, for the first time, he was weaker than his student, and god did it feel weird.
She took another step towards him, before pausing again. She looked him up and down, taking in what he looked like now. The bare bones of ‘Kakashi’ were there, but other than his hair, single sharingan, and mask, everything was different. From the way his voice sounded to the way his knees ached every time he made a jump he used to be able to make without any trouble. He was shorter now, hopefully he would grow taller as he grew older, he didn’t seem to put on muscle as easily either.
For a second, there was a pause, and then Sakura leapt forwards and wrapped her arms around him as she pressed her face into his shirt.
Kakashi didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her. When he did, he could feel her rapid breathing, and he could hear the way her breath hitched. He felt her tears soak through his hoodie, she didn’t make a single sound as she cried. A trait most shinobi earned after war.
She spoke in between breaths, “I missed you…we missed you”
“I…I missed you guys too” he said so softly he doubted she would have heard if she wasn’t a shinobi.
“Sasuke came back…I thought you would’ve liked to know that”
His heart beat a little faster. Despite everything he had done, Sasuke was still his student, Kakashi cared about him more than he showed. He cared about everyone he left behind more than he showed. He would like to meet them again, even if it were just once - although, he didn’t know if he would be able to live the rest of his life here with the taunt of his friends and family being alive.
He smiled softly under his mask as he rested his chin on top of her head, “You don’t know how glad I am…did Naruto finally bring him back?”
It was odd, speaking of this. To him, everything had happened nearly two decades ago…but from the way Sakura spoke, it was as if it had just happened yesterday for her.
She laughed softly as she cried, “Not exactly…but he’s fighting for the village now…”
Kakashi hummed softly at that.
“Are these the Pure Lands?” her voice was muffled by his chest.
Mmm, he hadn’t heard those words in a long time. The Pure Lands, that was where he was supposed to be right now…instead he- they were stranded here.
He shook his head, “Mm, not that I know of”
Slowly, Sakura pulled away and he released her. She still limped slightly, but her medical ninjutsu seemed to have improved, she wasn’t swaying like she was when he was watching her.
“How did you get here, Sakura?”
Her mouth twisted into a frown, and Kakashi knew the look on her face too well, “You…your”
He didn’t rush her, whatever she wanted to tell him, it didn’t sound good.
“Your friend… Obito …he used his Mangekyo sharingan on me…”
Kakashi’s heart stopped and time seemed to freeze. Obito. That name was another name he hadn’t heard in a long time…much longer than Sakura’s. Obito was dead. He was crushed under a boulder, even if he had escaped from underneath the boulder, half his body had been decimated…it was impossible for him to be alive.
But how did she know his name?
Obito, Rin and he had lived in a time of war. Ever since they were born, war was all they knew. It also meant, birth records were kept loosely and paperwork regarding Konoha and its citizens were kept even more sparingly. Other than the Hokage, the village elders, clan heads, Jounin and a few important people, records were rarely kept.
So other than the gravestone in his name, Obito didn’t exist, except for in the minds of those who knew him.
Kakashi knew all his batch mates well enough to know they wouldn’t forget his face or mix him up with anybody else.
He kept himself controlled, “Obito is dead, Sakura…how do you know his name?”
She didn’t answer him.
Instead, she turned her gaze upwards, towards the tall buildings - the architecture of this world likely completely unfamiliar to her. He followed her gaze. A man was perched on the ledge of one of the buildings, his hair floating in the air and his eye covered by a pear of yellow goggles.
-
They were in an alley. He had found her, wandering the streets - he too was wandering when he happened across her. She had been walking aimlessly down a sidewalk. It was late, past midnight, so the streets were relatively empty.
When he saw her, he had been jumping across roofs…the colour of her hair made him land badly. He could tell just from her stance that she was dazed. She walked loosely, limping to the right and clutching her left arm.
At first he had written her off as just another drunk.
But he couldn’t stop the tugging sensation at the bottom of his stomach. So, if only to satisfy his curiosity, he told himself that he would watch her just to make sure she wouldn’t get hurt - not because she reminded him of someone .
If she did faint or die, he would help her out. He was trailing her for her sake, not his. Definitely not because the colour of her hair tugged at his heart. Her limping grew even more pronounced as she stumbled slightly, falling over her own feet. Even from this distance, he could tell she wouldn’t last long.
From the rooftops, he walked along with her, his steps silent. From this angle, of him being above her, he couldn’t see anything. It was dark and they were walking through a patch of darkness where it seemed a couple street lamps had broken down.
Something about her made him continue his watch. He should have just called the authorities for a pick up, she would pass out soon enough, he could just give them the general area and they would find her. It wasn’t like they were in a bad neighbourhood either, she would more likely be helped by a stranger than robbed. But something made him stay.
He couldn’t place it, but the way she walked, the way she stood, her posture…all of it seemed too familiar for comfort. He felt something tug at his heart and he pushed down the feeling.
Nostalgia
He stopped breathing when she walked under the warm orange glow of a streetlight. He stumbled over his steps as he leaned over the roof to make sure he was seeing properly. On the top of her head was a hitai-ate, it glinted under the light, he couldn’t see the symbol on it from here, but he didn’t need to. It was a shinobi’s hitai-ate.
As she leaned to her right, stumbling into an alley - perhaps for respite - he made his way down quickly from the rooftops, his knees and ankles aching.
Deep in his heart, he knew who it was. He knew from the second he laid eyes on the pink head of hair, he knew from the way she walked, the way she limped, the way she clutched her arm…the way a faint green glow came from her palm as she clutched the arm. How could he not know? He had spent years watching her grow up, teaching her how to hide her tells, how to walk, the proper posturing for a shinobi to be most combat ready - even when they were on their last legs.
When he walked into the dark alley she was pushing herself off a wall that she looked to have fallen on. He didn’t waste any time as his feet carried him towards her.
-
Kakashi didn’t have to look closely to know who it was, perched on the ledge of the roof; meeting Sakura made him forget about this world. It made him forget about all the responsibilities he had here.
He had left the house after a fight he had with Aizawa. The man…his guardian, he pushed too hard, too hard for his own comfort. Perhaps if he were still an adult - if he were still Kakashi Hatake - he would have laughed all the questions off, he would have shaken his head and grinned through the interrogation.
But he was Hitoshi Shinso - the name didn’t hold a candle to Kakashi Hatake - and Hitoshi Shinso couldn’t handle it.
He didn’t know why but he just couldn’t control his anger, he left before he did something he would regret. Obviously Aizawa would find him eventually, he loved him.
“What do you want?!” Sakura yelled at Aizawa.
Kakashi chuckled softly, and for the first time in a long time, he let out a quiet laugh. He placed a hand on Sakura’s shoulder and leaned in so that his face was next to her ear, “Let’s get out of here, Sakura…we need to talk. There’s a warehouse 5 kilometres north-east, I have supplies there.”
That seemed to be all the confirmation and direction Sakura needed before she shunshined both of them away, leaving nothing but a small gust of wind in their place. Kakashi almost laughed out loud at the familiar feeling, he had missed it so much.
He knew Aizawa would be worried but the Shinobi in him yearned to escape from all the control and all the ‘care’. He didn’t let himself feel too guilty, he would be back home the same time Aizawa would return after his nightly patrol.
__________________________________________________________________
Aizawa Shouta was flabbergasted.
He and Hitoshi had fought.
The guilt tore at him, but he just couldn’t help it. He knew that he should be patient, that he should be understanding and that he shouldn’t force the kid to open up.
But recently, the kid had been turning off. He was worried about him, Hitoshi spent more and more time holed up in his room. And Aizawa didn’t know why.
He had talked to Hizashi about it, he told him it was just a phase that every teenager went through, that it was nothing. But how could he think it was nothing? Hitoshi wasn’t a normal kid, the things he went through…the things he did, none of it was normal.
He was worried that he was falling back into old habits. Hitoshi seemed relatively friendly and fine in school, but when he got home, he spent more time in his room than he did outside. Aizawa would check in on him of course, every few hours and before bed, he would remind the kid to go to bed, to have dinner…to take care of himself; he was always replied to with a noncommittal hum.
It wasn’t just Hitoshi closing up that pushed him, the kid kept a small journal inside his mattress in a small compartment he had carved out - one that unearthed his past in a way he had never done. Aizawa didn’t mean to snoop, or to pry, but he was worried...he was so worried.
So while Hitoshi was out for school, he searched his room for any weapons, bloodied clothes or bandages, anything that would point to Hitoshi possibly starting his vigilante career anew.
When his hand came into contact with a leather-bound journal and not a deadly sharp knife, he pulled it out from the mattress. He didn’t like the idea of snooping into his journal, but…the temptation was too strong.
Aizawa opened the first page of the journal, he was surprised to not find any words. Instead, drawn with stunningly accurate realism, was a face. He flipped the pages, and he found more faces…and more…and more. Under each face was a name.
And with every name he read, he felt his heart break more and more. The names were the same as the one etched on a small rock he kept buried in his closet.
Naruto, Sakura, Sasuke, Gai, Yamato, Jirariya, Minato, Rin, Obito…it was etched in small characters on the rock. He wrote small enough to fit at least a dozen names on it. And for the first time, Aizawa could put faces to the names.
Naruto looked barely four in one drawing and in the next he was grown, about as old as Hitoshi was, judging from the baby fat on his cheeks in the scarily realistic drawing. Sakura, and Sasuke were the same, portraits of them as children - perhaps around twelve or thirteen - were drawn next to them as teenagers. It seemed the dual portraits were reserved for those three.
He stopped himself once he finished flipping through the pages. He tucked the sketchbook back into Hitoshi's mattress.
Were they his friends? But Hitoshi was only eleven when he took him out of that orphanage, the only people who looked around that age were the younger versions of Sakura, Sasuke and Naruto and Rin and Obito, who didn’t seem to have any portraits of them being older.
From what he knew, the kid didn’t keep contact with anyone from his childhood, which meant that Sakura, Sasuke and Naruto were probably older than him right now. Rin and Obito, they looked to be older than he was when he left the orphanage as well.
Was this proof of a child-soldier ring? A larger organisation, where the kid could make such connections with older people?
But…did those connections mean so much to him that he was willing to draw their faces into a sketchbook and etch their names into a rock? Hitoshi…he had an entire life that Aizawa didn’t know about. It made him wonder more about his childhood. Had the Shinsous sold him off? Were these people good to him, or just another cog in the ring?
Could he tell the difference? He was probably much younger when he formed these connections…a little kid wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between a friend and a foe - no matter how much of a genius they were. Especially in Hitoshi's case…it would have been easy to gain trust from him. His parents weren’t exactly the picture of love - if these people showed even the smallest bit of care or affection for him…he wouldn’t blame the kid for trusting them.
The sketchbook had unearthed a multitude of questions. Normally, he would have tucked the book back inside his mattress, and pretended he didn’t know a thing. The kid would tell Hizashi and him if he was ever ready to - rushing him would only cause him to close up.
But it didn’t stop the suspicions from brewing in his stomach. Hitoshi came home every day, hours after school would end. He would come home as the sun was setting, giving Hizashi and he ridiculous excuses - honestly, how many times a week could an old lady need a leaky faucet fixed? It bothered him that he was MIA for a chunk of the day, it bothered him more that he felt the need to lie to them about where he was.
Aizawa wasn’t dumb, he could see how bored the kid was during lessons and during sparring sessions. The only person that even made the bored expression on his face loosen up slightly was Ojiro - and even then Hitoshi beat him without even so much as breaking a sweat.
He could tell, the kid was practically itching to get into a real fight. He didn’t like the tendencies the kid had to get himself in dangerous situations. He was careless, he didn’t bother analysing opponents before jumping headfirst into a fight, the most he would do would be to look an opponent up and down for a second before leaping gleefully into battle.
To say he was a genius was probably the understatement of the century.
He was bored.
He was bored because UA was too ‘soft’.
He was bored because he had lived half his life fighting for said life.
Aizawa wouldn’t put it past him to be leaping into danger and action in that chunk of time that he was away. When he was a kid, Hitoshi would do his vigilante work under the cover of night…what if he didn’t feel the need to use the darkness anymore? He was an adrenaline junkie. The risk of getting caught, of a thrilling fight, of lying straight to their faces…he loved the thrill. Perhaps this life was too boring for him? Was he not mentally stimulated enough? Should they put him in extracurriculars? Martial arts? Art?
-
Any semblance of understanding he had inside of him for the kid was washed away with every hour he didn’t come home. He was late.
It was 8 p.m, the sun had set, and he was late. Aizawa tapped his foot as he sat on the couch, waiting for the front door to open…he told Hizashi to wait in his room in case he came through the window. His husband hadn’t wanted to do it at first but as the hours grew late, he was slowly convinced. Hizashi sat at his desk in his room.
And they waited…and waited…and waited.
They had texted him, of course, and called, and called and called…and every single time they were left on voicemail. Their messages didn’t even reach his phone. Did he run out of battery?...Was he somewhere that had no internet?
When the door finally creaked open, it was 11:32 p.m. and he damn near tripped over himself as he rushed to the door.
That kid…
He only smiled sheepishly under his mask and muttered an excuse, something about having to walk some dogs and getting distracted by an old lady carrying heavy groceries. Aizawa barely heard any of it.
Hitoshi walked past him, to the living room, where Hizashi was already rushing. His husband, the ever-concerned man he was, bent over at the waist, turning the kid’s head from left to right, checking for any injuries.
“Where were you?”
He walked to stand beside Hizashi as the man finished his checks and stood up straight.
Hitoshi tilted his head, that smile still plastered on his face, “Mahh I told you, I was walking some dogs for a friend, and when I was done, I saw an old lady across the street. She was carrying a ton of groceries, the poor lady looked like she was barely able to walk…so obviously I helped her out” He finished his story with a smile.
Aizawa’s eyes narrowed, “That took you 7 hours? I need you to use your brain, Hitoshi, don’t lie to us anymore”
At this, his smile ever so slightly dropped and his eyes stopped curving.
“Ahh, don’t be such a worrywart…I was walking the dogs in Tokyo, the old lady lived in Tokyo too. I didn’t have enough cash for the bullet train, so I just took the normal one” he shrugged - as if he didn’t just go to Tokyo.
“You went to Tokyo?” Hizashi asked.
The boy replied with a curt nod, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
Aizawa shook his head, “No, no, no, you don’t seem to understand, kid, you can’t go to fucking Tokyo on a whim”
“Enough with the excuses, Hitoshi, tell us why you were in Tokyo”
He struggled to keep his anger under control. Tokyo was an entirely different prefecture. It took three hours to get there by the train system, two if he took the bullet train…but the point is, he travelled to an entirely different fucking prefecture.
He sighed, “It’s a friday…and my friend really needed a dog sitter”
He always did this, always . Stupid excuses even children wouldn’t believe. For the most part, they didn’t question him much. Before today, he always came home on time and there wasn’t any suspicion of him going out to do any vigilante work. Before today. There was no logical, innocent reason for the kid to be in Tokyo. The faces of those people popped up in his head.
“Who’s your friend?”
He shrugged.
“Who, Hitoshi?”
“You wouldn’t know em…” he shrugged again.
The kid was lying to him. He had to be. There was no way in hell, any normal person would travel three hours to Tokyo, and three hours back, just to dog sit for a friend. He didn’t care if the friend was fucking All Might, no person in their right mind would make a trip to an entirely different prefecture for such a thing.
But Hitoshi wasn’t normal.
Hizashi sighed next to him, “Work with us kid…we’re worried for you.”
He looked to him for support, he just nodded silently.
“You can’t just make a trip to Tokyo like that. It’s dangerous, is this friend of yours at least a good person?”
Hitoshi chuckled slightly, “As good as landlord could be”
A fucking landlord. Hitoshi's friend was a grown adult…talking to a 15 year old kid, asking him to walk their dogs for them.
“You’re joking,” he rubbed the bridge of his nose, “Please tell me you’re joking”
The kid tilted his head and asked in the most innocent voice ever, “why would I be joking?”
Aizawa cracked a laugh, what the hell was he supposed to say? There were just so many things wrong and he couldn’t even begin to unravel it. He looked to Hizashi, the man looked just as perplexed and worried as he felt…although he didn’t seem to have the anger.
“No,” Aizawa shook his head, “At a certain point, Hitoshi, there is a limit, and you just leapt over it today. We can close one eye when you come home hours after school, spouting bullshit excuses. But you cannot expect us to ignore the fact that you went to Tokyo, to meet your landlord ‘friend’!”
He clenched his fist as he stared down at the kid. He was so small, and so young. Guilt started to build in his gut, but the kid was 15. He was more than old enough to know his boundaries, and he was more than mature enough to be able to know when he crossed the line.
Hizashi nodded beside him, “Shou is right, you can’t just go to Tokyo for the day, and not tell us anything about the trip. You didn’t even pick up our calls, and our messages didn’t deliver…we were so worried for you, kid”.
“Alright, I’m sorry, alright” Hitoshi's apology only made him angrier.
Aizawa searched his face for any semblance of guilt staining his features, “No, that’s not enough, you’re grounded. Starting next week, you are to come home straight after school”
This seemed to finally get the kid to sober up.
“You’re joking”.
“If you’re bored enough to go to Tokyo on a whim, then you could have joined some extracurriculars. There is no reason you should be leaving to meet with a ‘friend’”
For the longest time, Aizawa had been afraid to scold or discipline the child. When Hizashi and him had first taken in the boy, he was so frail and knowing his background, he didn’t know how the kid would react to any punishment or reprimand.
But as the years passed, he learned to set boundaries and for the most part, the kid had kept within them. He never needed to impose an actual ‘punishment’, not until now, at least.
Hitoshi's eyes left his and met Hizashi’s. Hizashi didn’t say anything.
“Look, I get it, I broke your boundaries. And I’m sorry about that…really.”
Aizawa shook his head, “Actions have consequences, Hitoshi”
The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted ever saying them. Almost instantly, the kid tensed up, he clenched his fist tightly around the fabric of his shirt…and… if looks could kill.
Suddenly, he felt an odd pulling sensation from the eye patch the kid always kept on his left eye…his secondary quirk.
“ You do not get to tell me that” he whispered so softly, Aizawa wondered if he were hallucinating.
Hitoshi's words came out with more conviction than any sentence he had ever heard coming out of the kid’s mouth. He wondered if he went too far.
But, he stood firm, “You’re grounded, kid, you pushed your luck too hard today”
His breathing got deeper and his fist clenched so tightly, Aizawa was worried he would dig a hole right through the skin on his palm. His single exposed eye seemed to flutter across Hizashi and his face…as if looking for something.
Aizawa saw his eye twitch and his fist clench harder…for a moment, he thought the kid was going to attempt to punch him. He had never laid a hand on either one of them before…at least not after he came into their custody, but his stance, his posture…Aizawa was surprised when the kid turned around.
He was even more surprised when instead of heading down the hall to his room, the kid turned and walked towards the front door.
“Where the hell are you going?!”
The nerve he had on him.
“Hitoshi!” he reached out a hand and placed it on his shoulder.
The kid didn’t even turn back, “Don’t push your luck”
He shrugged his hand off his shoulder and made for the door. He left the house before Aizawa could even process what he had said.
Hizashi had to stop him from running out of the house in nothing but a T-shirt and shorts. He put on his hero outfit as fast as he could, wrapping his capture weapon around his neck and putting his yellow goggles on. He jumped out of the window, using the capture weapon to cling onto a street lamp.
He knew the area like the back of his hand, he knew all the alleys, all the underground bunkers and all the cracks where villains would slink into.
Hitoshi was gone.
He searched the area for the kid, but he was gone. He couldn’t have gotten that far could he? Aizawa barely took 5 minutes to leave the house.
Unfortunately for the kid, he knew this place better than anyone.