Chapter Text
Kitsune paused before the door to the war room. His stomach twisted with some emotion, trepidation perhaps? It was the same feeling he had that first training session he had gone to with Aizawa-sensei. Like the world was shifting underneath his feet.
He had been so naïve then, so bitter at the world and yet so desperate to be a hero. Kitsune was sure that if fifteen-year-old Hitoshi could see him now, the boy wouldn’t recognize him. Hell, he’d probably call Kitsune a villain. Not that Kitsune could blame his past self. His hands were soaked with blood, some of it from innocents whose only misfortune was being caught up in this madness. But well, whose hands weren’t at this point?
The age of heroes was long gone now. The Resistance had been created in an effort to wrestle some control back from All For One. Something that was nearly impossible with the full force of the government behind him. He ruled Japan like a shadow king.
It left them scrambling, trying and failing to come up with anything that might stand in the madman’s way. They had lost so so many good people in the process. And here they were, forced to try a plan that was sheer insanity, that nobody was sure would even work because they had been backed into a corner. It was this or nothing. Kitsune was just the unlucky bastard that had been picked to lead it.
“Move your ass, Eye-Bags,” Dynamight’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “You’re blocking the door. We’ve got shit to do.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Kitsune said, shaking his head, trying to get himself back in the game, pushing the thoughts of the long distance passed away. Hitoshi’s hopes and dreams were meaningless now. The kid was long dead, along with his mentor. Kitsune was all that was left, and he had a job to do.
He pushed the door open, taking in the last remnants of the Resistance Leadership. Deku stood at the head of the table, a grim look on his face. Blackwhip curled away from him like an extra set of arms. The edges of Smokescreen swirled beneath him.
Dynamight had taken up position on his right side, hands shoved into the pockets of his hero suit, the normal gauntlets missing. Kitsune vaguely remembered them getting destroyed on Dynamight’s last mission. He would have expected them to be fixed by now, but without Hatsume, there wasn’t really anyone to do it.
Shouto stood on Deku’s other side, bandages still wrapped around most of his body. Uravity was pouring over the various maps and plans spread out on the table. Phantom Thief leaned against the wall, his eyes closed. Most likely conserving his strength, preparing for the final push. The amount of Trigger he had consumed wreaked havoc on his body.
“Good, Kitsune. You’re here.” Deku straightened, a grim smile slipping on his face. But it faded after a moment. Even Deku was too tired to try to keep up appearances.
“He was standing outside like an idiot.” Dynamight rolled his eyes.
“Kacchan,” Deku warned. It was strange to hear him call him that. Even Deku had stopped calling Dynamight anything but his hero title. Symbols didn't have civilian names. They all knew that. Just another sign of how close they were to trying this insane plan.
“Where are Alien Queen and Red Riot?” Uravity asked, looking up from the plans for the first time. “They should be here.”
“They’re running interference.” Deku said quietly. “Best neither All For One, nor the Commission, realize we’re planning something. They’ll buy us as much time as they can.”
Dynamight’s hands curled into fists. His lips twisted into a snarl, but he said nothing. Shouto and Uravity glanced at each other, before both bowing their heads. Kitsune closed his eyes in an effort to fight past the waves of grief. If everything went to plan, it wouldn’t matter that they had been sent on a suicide mission. But it didn’t stop it from hurting. With them gone, this was all that was left of the former hero classes of U.A.
“Okay. Let’s do this then.” Uravity said after a moment, clearly gathering herself. She rested her gloved hands on the table. She kept her right pinky up, with her missing the last two fingers on her left hand. Her quirk was unreliable. It was best not to risk it.
“Go over the plan. One more time.” Shouto said, his voice rasping. It was more words than Kitsune had heard from him in a long time. Perhaps since Dabi had finally managed to kill his father.
“Right. Okay,” Deku nodded. “Using the combination of Rewind, Teleport and One for All, Phantom Thief will send Kitsune back in time.” He did not visibly pause at the name of Eri’s quirk, but all of them felt the grief spike in the room. Eri had been nine. She should have been safe. But now all they had left were the remnants.
This insane plan had only come into realization with the discovery that with the right dose of trigger, Phantom Thief could combine the quirks he had, creating new, more powerful quirks for the briefest of moments. With Deku’s gift of One for All powering Rewind, Phantom Thief would be able to utilize the combination of Rewind and Teleport to do the impossible and launch Kitsune back in time.
At least, they hoped so. There was always the chance this wouldn’t work and the backlash would kill them all. As it was, they had been hoping to wait longer before implanting the plan, but none of them had prepared for just how fast One for All would destroy Phantom’s body. Already the cracks were growing across his face.
“Once he lands in the past, he should have two weeks until Kamino. During that time he will compel information to give to Aizaw-Eraserhead and others at U.A. Then he will use the Kamino incident to take both All for One and Shigaraki out in a single strike.” They had such grand plans in the beginning, plans to go back further and stop everything, to turn the league away from villainy, to take down the hero commission. They had so many plans.
But, well, things changed. People died. And now all they had left was Kitsune and his brainwashing quirk. The quirk that would allow him to catch them off guard would be able to kill him without him raising a single finger. If Kitsune was able, he would take the rest of the league out too. But that was not the main objective. The heroes could manage the league and the Meta Liberation Army. They could not take on All For One or Shigaraki.
Trigger, at the doses he was going to take, wouldn’t necessarily kill him on its own. But Kitsune was under no illusions of what he would do after the mission was finished. He knew what he was walking into.
“Kitsune, I won’t order you to do this,” Deku said, the leader mask slipping briefly, revealing the hero that even these dark times could not stamp out. “There are other options, not…good ones, but Hawks was willing to listen last time we got him alone.”
“For fucks sake,” Dynamight groaned. “Not this again.”
Uravity shook her head, “Oh, Deku”. Phantom Thief remained silent, but his eyes were open now. Shouto let out a low sigh, but Kitsune could see the way he watched Deku. The soft warmth in his gaze.
“Don’t be stupid,” Kitsune said. “There are no other options. This is our best bet. I know that. I’ve made my choice, said my goodbyes. All we have left is to just do it.”
“Not all of them,” Uravity said, her voice sad. She stepped forward and clasped his free hand with her good one. A look of grim determination on her face, for the briefest moments she looked far more like the hero student she once was. “Take care of yourself. And keep them safe. Make sure they can’t-” She swallowed hard, “Make sure they never understand why we did the things we did.”
“I will,” Kitsune said, squeezing her hand. He didn’t have to ask who ‘they’ were. “I promise.”
Shouto looked at him, mismatched eyes staring into his soul. “I would have liked to become a hero alongside you. If you can, please make sure Touya will not hurt anyone else. Not again.“
Kitsune didn’t know how to respond to the idea that he could have ever competed with 1-A, and made his head spin. He would have crumbled under the pressure, but it was a nice sentiment. He nodded at Shouto. Dabi was his secondary target. If he could take anyone else out in the League, it would be him. He was too dangerous not to deal with.
“Give ‘em hell,” Dynamight snarled. “You better fucking win, you hear me?” He paused for a moment. “Shitty Hair wanted me to tell you not to do anything stupid.” He said. “None of us are going to be around to save your ass.”
“I’m not Deku,” Kitsune complained. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” It was starting to feel truly real now. The dawning realization that this was the end. Even if by some miracle this worked, he would never see his team again. The people whom he had fought beside for the past year. It had been an awful, terrible year, and yet…and yet these people had been the one suitable spot in it. Kitsune had never had friends before them, and he would never have friends again after them.
Deku crossed the room to stand in front of him. Kitsune sometimes forgot that he was a good couple of centimeters taller than their leader. It was hard to remember when Deku was always larger than life. He seemed smaller now, more human.
“If you ask me if I’m sure again, I’m going to punch you.” He said. “Seriously Deku. This is my choice.”
“Yeah.” Deku said quietly. “I know.” There were tears in his eyes. Hitoshi couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Deku cry. Maybe when All Might had been killed? “You would have been an amazing hero, Hitoshi,” He said before pulling Kitsune into a tight hug.
Kitsune dropped his head against Deku’s in an effort to hide his face. The sound of his given name nearly broke down all the walls that he had created. It took him away from Kitsune, Resistance Leader, and replaced him with regular old Hitoshi, who was seventeen years old and oh so afraid.
He let out the breath, forcing his heartbeat to calm down. “This should not be on your shoulders.” Deku continued quietly, his voice layered the way it always was when the Vestiges had something to say. “It’s not fair. It is not right. We’re so sorry.” He stepped back, the grief clear in his eyes. Eight generations of heroes, all who failed. And it couldn’t even be Deku they sent back. Not with him having to give up One For All.
“Life’s not fair,” Kitsune shrugged his shoulders. He pushed Hitoshi back down, deep inside him. “Let’s do this.” He turned to Phantom Thief.
Phantom Thief pulled two things out of his pocket. A sliver of Eri’s horn, and a piece of hair from the owner of Teleport. They had been in Chargebolt’s squad.
A horn formed on the Phantom thief’s head. Lightning flickered up and down his arms, red veins spreading outwards as he activated One for All. He held out his fist as golden light started to swirl around him. Phantom Thief nodded at him once, grim determination in his eyes. But. he did not say anything. He hadn’t spoken since they had rescued him from All For One all those months ago. Kitsune wasn’t in a place to judge him. God knows if it wasn’t for his quirk, he would go days without speaking a single word.
Kitsune turned to look at his friends. They stared back at him. “Thank you,” He said softly, “For everything. I wouldn’t fail. I promise.” And then he reached out and fist bumped Phantom Thief. Gold exploded outwards, swallowing his vision. It hurt, knives exploding up and down his body as it was stretched and twisted to its limits.
It was a relief when the darkness overwhelmed the gold.
Hitoshi jolted out of sleep, sitting straight up. The blankets fell from where they had been bunched up around him. His heart pounded and his hands shook with leftover adrenaline. It was hard to pinpoint what exactly the nightmare had been about. All he had was flashes, a room full of people he cared for, brilliant blinding gold, and oh so much pain.
He sat there for several minutes, just trying to get his breathing under control. The darkness of the room seemed to loom, looking almost alien, dangerous. So many things could be hiding in the shadows. Hitoshi shook his head, trying to clear it, but nothing worked. The darkness kept creeping in, and all Hitoshi knew was that he needed to get out.
Maybe water would help. He didn’t dare go to the kitchen, but he could probably get to the bathroom without waking his foster parents. It would at least get him out of this room. Mind made up, he swung his legs out of bed and stumbled towards the bathroom. His legs felt weird. They didn’t hurt the way he was expecting them to.
Even when he splashed water on his face, the fog clung to his thoughts. In the mirror above the sink, a kid’s face stared back at him. Dark eye bags, a bruise on his temple from where some kid at school had gotten pissy at him. Purple hair falling into his eyes, some of it sticking up with leftover gel. It felt strange. As if he was unused to seeing it this way. But he had always styled his hair. It kept it out of his face, kept him from looking scary.
Which was so fucking stupid, it wasn’t like a eleven-year-old could even be a villain. He just hadn’t learned how to take care of his appearance yet, and the kids at school had taken it out on him. Besides the hair, his face just looked off. It was missing the muzzle scars from when the league had -
When the league had -
The league? What league? What was going on? He had always had faded scars on the upper cheekbones, but those were nearly gone. It had been years since anyone had needed to use quirk suppressions on him.
Distantly, he realized there was something dripping from his nose. Dark red liquid, it was blood. As if he had overused his quirk. But he had been resting his quirk for at least a week, trying to regain his strength for the mission.
And it was with that thought that whatever wall had been put into place shattered, and it all came rushing back in a wave of agony.
Hitoshi did not scream, even before the end of the world. He had known better than to scream when he was hurt. The pain rolled over him, but all that escaped was a choked whimper as the memories slipped into place.
For the briefest moments, he was seventeen and fifteen in the same breath. He was Kitsune of the Resistance, and he was Shinsou Hitoshi, middle schooler. Battle hardened and naïve. Both hurting, both so afraid.
The moment passed as Kitsune’s presence overwhelmed Hitoshi’s. It wasn’t even a contest. Kitsune was desperate. He had a job to do, a mission to accomplish, fifteen-year-old Hitoshi was not prepared for the onslaught. He could do nothing as he was washed away.
Kitsune opened his eyes and took a ragged breath in through his nose and out through his mouth, trying to get his bearing. Something had clearly gone very, very wrong. He didn’t understand. His body was supposed to be sent back in time, with all of his supplies. Their plans had counted on it. In this body, he was missing everything he needed to fucking do anything. No Trigger, no capture weapon, no weapons. Hell, his body looked like it had never so much as thrown a punch properly.
If he tried to fight All for One now, the villain would blast him off the fucking map. He would probably do it while laughing. Kitsune had ruined everything before it even had the chance to start. All of their hopes and dreams were riding on him, and he had somehow fucked it all up without even realizing. They should have sent someone else, anyone else. Deku would have already made a dozen different plans. Even at fifteen, Dynamight was unstoppable. Shouto too, and he had the might of Endeavor to back him up. Uravity would be able to make connections, talk to the heroes, do something.
Kitsune couldn’t do any of that. He was just a dumb kid with a villain’s quirk. He was going to fail. Everything they sacrificed was going to be for nothing.
No. No, he needed to think about this logically. So what if things hadn’t gone to plan? Things never went to plan. He needed to adapt, reassess, figure out what the next steps were. He was better than this.
Kitsune stared at his reflection. Wide, panicking purple eyes stared back at him. Looking at Hitoshi now, he looked so frighteningly young. Had Kitsune killed him by taking his place? Was there a ghost of Hitoshi running around in his head? That hadn’t been his plan. He had never meant to -
No. Stop.
He was spiraling, and it wasn’t helping anything. He needed to focus. Kitsune breathed in and then out. Once, twice, three times, and then he got to work.
The first order of business was figuring out where exactly he was in the timeline. They had been aiming for a week before Kamino, but at that point Aizawa-sensei had already begun to train him. This body showed no sign of having gone through any type of training.
A wave of sadness hit him at that realization. He would give a lot to see his Sensei again, to hear his low voice as taught Hitoshi how to use the capture weapon. Those had been good months - the best time of his life, really. Hitoshi hadn’t quite realized just how good he had it until it had been ripped away from him. The story of his life really. He was always so greedy, never content with what he had until it was gone and all he was left with was the memories.
Still, it was probably for the best that he had come back before any of that had started. Aizawa-sensei had always seen through the best of his lies. And if they had already started training, he would know enough about Hitoshi to recognize if he started to act off. Kitsune could not afford to have that level of attention on.
Kitsune slipped back into his room, glad it was the middle of the night. His foster parents were a problem that had to wait until morning. Hitoshi looked around the right age for UA which meant he was placed with the Fujiwara’s. He didn’t remember them being terrible. They had been strict, but mostly reasonable. He only ever got punished when he broke a rule, and it was mostly privileges being taken away, not much actual punishment. Which was good. Kitsune didn’t think he could stop himself from fighting back, and that would cause a whole host of other problems.
Once he got to his room, it was simple to find his phone. Luckily his fingerprint worked. Kitsune had no idea what Hitoshi’s password was. He caught sight of the date, and let out a string of curses that would have made Dynamight proud.
Deku’s shit luck must have rubbed off on him. That was really the only answer. Why else would he have been dumped less than a week before the first day of U.A. Holy fuck, this was bad.
He was already on U.A.’s radar. Shinsou Hitoshi had failed the hero course exam but gotten into the Gen Ed department. That meant he couldn’t become a ghost the way he was half planning on. If he had been a ghost, he could have spent the next couple of months clawing together enough training and power to be able to complete the mission. It would have been hard, nearly impossible, but it wasn’t like the mission was supposed to be easy. Kitsune could have done it. Nobody would have looked for Shinsou Hitoshi.
But now that was no longer true. U.A. would be expecting Hitoshi to show up, and they would investigate if he didn’t.
Heroes need to be able to adapt. A voice whispered in his mind. It sounded a lot like Aizawa-sensei.
Kitsune took a deep breath. He couldn’t change the hand that he was dealt. He could not go back in time - even more back in time - and cause himself to be dropped before the admission exam. All he could do was move forward with the hand he was dealt.
Whatever way he looked at it, Shinsou Hitoshi needed to go to U.A. So Kitsune would become Shinsou Hitoshi once again. He would go to U.A. He would become just another face in a crowd of students, nobody special, nobody that anyone would even give a second glance. It would be simply, he just needed to fail the sports festival. Then Aizawa-sensei - no, Aizawa-san - would have no reason to take an interest in him.
Hitoshi had spent his entire life being looked over, having to fight for a chance to be seen as something more than just a boy with a villainous quirk. It should be simply to just allow himself to disappear. He would bide his time until Kamino, get his hands on some good quality Trigger and end this once and for all, before it could even begin.
He would save all of them. The Resistance would never be formed. Aizawa-san would grow old with Mic-sensei and Eri. Deku, Dynamight, Shouto, Uravity, Phantom Thief, and all the rest would never need to exist. They could simple be heroes along with the rest of their classes. Heroes who would take the world by storm. None of them would ever have to choose between their mortality and the world. They would be happy.
It was well worth a single life. It wasn’t like Shinsou Hitoshi would have ever really amounted to anything. He was just a bitter kid with a villain’s quirk.
You would have made an amazing hero, Hitoshi.
Kitsune pushed the memory out of his mind. He had a life to fake and murders to kill. There was no place for regret for what could have been in a kinder world.