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One hand braced against the side of the sink and the other pressed against one side of his nose, Hitoshi huffs sharply. Years of long practice makes sure that he’s hunched over far enough that all of the blood lands in the bowl of the sink instead of on his slightly rumpled uniform.
The hand pressed in between his shoulder blades rubs a slow, soothing path up and down the line of his spine.
“Ikeda again?” Izuku's voice is a low, comforting murmur.
Hitoshi just grunts in acknowledgement as he straightens up, turning the water on and reaching for some tissue to finish the clean up process.
They both know it was Ikeda again. It always seems to be Ikeda these days, the 3-C student having made it his personal mission in life to harass Hitoshi at any given moment. And, thanks to his ability to scout out and avoid cameras and friends willing to help and enable him, he’s been getting away cleanly each and every time.
A scar covered but gentle hand comes up to cup the side of his face, crooked and calloused fingers pressing carefully against his skin, turning his head to face Izuku.
Hitoshi can’t help the way he turns into the touch, face nuzzling into it even as his skin buzzes and his spine melts just a bit like it always does when Izuku touches him. Too many years of little to no physical affection, too many touches that had ended in nothing but pain, means that every soft touch and caress Izuku gives him tends to set him on fire.
Izuku is, Hitoshi knows with some mix of rage and helplessness, worse than he is. Hitoshi sees it every single time Izuku practically liquifies when they’re alone together in one of their dorm rooms and Hitoshi can get his hands in that unruly hair of his. He’s made the joke more than once that he doesn’t need to visit cat cafes or sneak into Aizawa and Mic’s rooms to pet Chunk and Bastard anymore. Not when Izuku does enough purring for head scritches to satisfy Hitoshi’s soul deep need for cat interactions.
It’d be cuter than it is if Hitoshi wasn’t intimately aware of the reasons behind it or the other reminders that Izuku carries around.
‘Touch starvation,’ Hitoshi thinks more than a bit bitterly. ‘What a bitch.’
“You’ll probably have a bruise but your nose isn’t broken at least,” Izuku murmurs, those vibrant green eyes of his gone sharp and dark as he stares at Hitoshi’s face. The small smile he sends him does nothing to distract from the mulish sort of displeasure in his expression. “Trust me, I’d know if it was. Expert, remember?”
The call back to Izuku’s still infamous anti-bone campaign forces a small but amused huff out of Hitoshi almost against his will.
There’s a reason Hitoshi had pointedly bought Izuku a strawberry milk on their first date and only half of it was because of the green-tinted hair and freckles.
“You want me to do something about him?” Izuku asks quietly, expression smoothing back out into a fond sort of sadness but that dark sort of gleam is still in his eyes.
Hitoshi feels fondness well up even higher inside of him at the question. Izuku’s offer is real, Hitoshi knows it is. And it’s also liable to mean anything from Izuku confronting him in the hallway to him pulling out a notebook and sending Ikeda into a psychological tailspin in under five minutes and driving him to attack Izuku so that he can legally punt the third year across campus in self-defense while Todoroki and Uraraka hold up scorecards.
Literally.
The entire school had learned a lot about Izuku and his entire friend circle during the Mineta incident.
Aizawa regularly sends Izuku narrow-eyed searching looks these days and Yaomomo still inevitably finds a way to slide Izuku some kind of new high quality journal or expensive tea at least twice a month as a thank you.
Hitoshi honestly doesn’t blame either of them. It’d been Yaomomo’s panty drawer Izuku had caught Mineta raiding after all. And as someone who has actually seen the inside of a few of Izuku’s notebooks he’s pretty sure Aizawa’s not yet reached the right levels of unsettled where Izuku’s concerned.
Honestly, on his part, the entire saga had just drop kicked Hitoshi, and possibly a large portion of the class, just a little bit deeper into love with Izuku.
But this is different. Mineta had been a confirmed pervert with multiple complaints against him who had, according to Izuku’s mumblings, likely only stayed in the course so long because he had some kind of family connection working in his favor that Nezu had apparently been hoarding and cultivating.
Ikeda is an upperclassman with a clean record and good grades. He’s also well liked by teachers and students alike from what Hitoshi’s seen and considered an overall good person and someone to look up to.
Meanwhile Hitoshi’s working with a well known acerbic personality, a record that had been only a mark or two short of disqualifying him from even applying to UA in the first place, and a lack of friendly relationships outside of his class.
Needless to say Hitoshi doesn’t like those odds at all.
“He’s not worth it,” Hitoshi finally tells Izuku with a small shrug. “And if it wasn’t him it’d just be someone else. And we both know it could be worse than a few bloody noses and bruises.”
Izuku’s wince is all the acknowledgement of Hitoshi’s points he needs.
Because they both know the truth about how these kinds of things work. It’s one of the things that had drawn them so close together so quickly once Hitoshi had pulled his head out of his ass and given into Izuku’s unflinching attempts to befriend him.
There’s a reason why tentative friendship had tipped so quickly into infatuation. A reason why it had all led to him interrupting Izuku mid-ramble one evening with a kiss he hadn’t been able to stop himself from stealing.
And, Hitoshi likes to think, there’s a reason why Izuku had kissed him back that night and agreed to first a date and then to be his boyfriend.
Because when Hitoshi, after one scathing comment too many, had been told in whispered starts and stops about a quirk manifesting almost ten years late, when Izuku had finally dared to breathe the word quirkless to him, he’d connected a lot of the dots all on his own.
Izuku knows the darker side of their quirk-centric society just like Hitoshi does. Has lived and breathed it in ways that only Todoroki and a scant few of their other classmates ever have. Has been touched by it so deeply that even now, with his quirk manifested and finally under some degree of control, he’s still affected by it in a million tiny ways that Hitoshi recognizes intimately.
Izuku still flinches just a bit every time he hears an explosion, still sits with his back to the wall and exits in sight at every chance he gets, still guards his notebooks with hunched shoulders and darting eyes. Just like Hitoshi has days where words refuse to come, where even the thought of anything or anyone touching his face makes his heart pound out a sick and heavy rhythm in his chest.
And even though Hitoshi knows they don’t know all of each other’s secrets, they do know the parts of each other that have been wounded and hurt. They know those ragged bits and pieces that form Hitoshi’s bitterness and determination or Izuku’s mix of anxiety and calculation and they still want to be around each other, still want to be together.
That means more to Hitoshi than he’d ever thought possible.
“I still hate it,” Izuku confesses even as he steps closer to Hitoshi’s side, a solid line of warm, compact muscle and safety. “I still wish this kind of thing didn’t happen here. That you were safe and people weren’t so mean. I wish they’d all see how great you are and how good of a hero you’re going to be. I just want ...”
“Yeah,” Hitoshi cuts him off with his agreement, leaning down to press his forehead against Izuku’s temple. Breathes in the comfort Izuku’s offering him and exhales just a sliver of the hurt that’s been churning inside of him for years now. At least he has this, has Izuku, has what they’re building together between them. “Me too.”
Hitoshi wishes all of those things were true too, for the both of them.
~~~
As much as Hitoshi knows Izuku adores All Might the idea of going to him never comes up for what, Hitoshi is sure, is a variety of reasons.
Reasons more than likely similar as to why neither of them bother to bring up the capture scarf wearing elephant in the room either.
Neither of them want to rehash what they’re both inevitably thinking whenever even the idea of reporting the problems Hitoshi’s been facing to Aizawa crosses either of their minds.
Because maybe Aizawa would believe them. Maybe he’d even take their side, all burning eyes, floating hair, and righteous fury. Maybe Ikeda and his friends and all the other students who whisper and sneer about Hitoshi would finally get reprimanded and punished.
Or …
Or maybe he wouldn’t.
Maybe he’d dismiss it. Maybe he’d call it a rivalry or tell Hitoshi he’ll have to get a thicker skin to deal with the harshness of life. Or maybe the blame would somehow get twisted back around onto Hitoshi like it had a million and one times before in the past. Maybe Izuku would be punished for sticking up for him, which to Hitoshi somehow feels even worse to think about.
Hitoshi doesn’t want to think his mentor, the hero he looks up to, the teacher who has invested so much time into him specifically and the class as a whole already, would be like that. That this would be just another thing ignored and swept aside for one reason or another.
But that fear, that creeping, clawing insecurity that maybe he would is hard to ignore.
So for Hitoshi it just seems easier to not risk it and, as he always seems to be, Izuku is ready and willing to back him up.
Better to wonder, better to not know, than to be faced with the worst possible outcome yet again.
~~~
Hitoshi notices immediately when the atmosphere in the school shifts.
There’s normally whispers following anyone in the hero course, of course there are. The other classes, from Support to Business all the way down to General Education, all have their own reasons to watch and speculate about any of them. And Hitoshi's always been whispered about more than most of the others because of his quirk.
But this, Hitoshi realizes as he makes his way through the hall towards the cafeteria behind Iida and Uraraka with Izuku sandwiched between him and Todoroki, this feels different even by his normal standards. Not even when Ikeda and his group of idiot friends are taken into account.
No this feels like elementary and middle school all over again. Feels like days spent silent in the back of a classroom on pain of punishment. Feels like leather against his face holding his mouth shut and a hand clamped down bruisingly tight around his upper arm.
If the tension he can practically feel settling across Izuku’s shoulders or the way Todoroki narrows his eyes are anything to go by he’s not the only one who feels it.
The first shove takes Hitoshi by surprise, an upperclassman shoulder checking him violently as he shoves past him despite there being plenty of room in the hallway.
The second shove is even less subtle. Someone, a second year girl with watery blue hair, plows right through the small amount of space between him and Izuku without any warning. Hitoshi stumbles just a bit but keeps his feet while Izuku is rather forcefully shoved directly into Todoroki’s chest.
But what really makes Hitoshi’s heart sink in his chest and bile rise up in his throat, is the way she immediately whips around and focuses on Izuku. She stares at him with narrowed eyes for a split second, eyes darting over to Hitoshi and then back again, before she huffs and stalks away.
“What was her problem?” Todoroki murmurs, a hand still on Izuku’s shoulder.
“Are you okay Hichan?” Izuku asks softly, his hand reaching out to grab Hitoshi so he can tangle their fingers together.
Hitoshi can’t bring himself to say anything so he just nods, that sick feeling rising up even further inside of him, because he knows.
He knows exactly what that was about.
He just doesn’t want to say it.
~~~
Two days pass.
Two days of being shoved in the hallways. Two days of people getting in between him and Izuku so much and so obviously that even Todoroki notices. Two days of sick despair eating at Hitoshi in a way he’d hoped, dreamed, he’d finally left behind forever.
It’s almost a relief when it finally comes to a head.
Almost.
“Shinsō, Midoriya,” Aizawa calls out almost absently as homeroom ends on the third day and he heads for the door, “come to the teacher’s lounge after class today. Don’t be late.”
Hitoshi has to force his shoulders not to curl inwards even as the others whisper and poke and prod at the two of them out of a cheerful sort of curiosity.
Instead he keeps his face blank, his eyes on Izuku, and his breathing even.
~~~
Izuku squeezes his hand briefly before letting go as they come to a stop outside the teacher’s lounge.
Hitoshi takes a quiet breath and reaches up to knock.
Aizawa’s the one to open the door, ushering them back and closing it behind him even as he turns on his heel and starts striding down the hallway.
“Follow me,” Aizawa tells them without bothering to slow down or look back, leaving Hitoshi and Izuku both hurrying to follow after him.
They weave their way through the twists and turns of UA in silence before they finally come to a stop outside a door that pops open before Aizawa can knock.
“Aizawa-sensei,” Principal Nezu’s voice calls out from within the room, “right on time as always. Do come inside. Shinsō-kun and Midoriya-kun as well of course.”
Aizawa steps through the door, Hitoshi and Izuku following on his heels.
Hitoshi feels his stomach completely drop when he catches sight of who all has gathered in the principal's office.
Principal Nezu sits behind his desk, customary teacup in hand. Aizawa-sensei moves to stand against the wall where a surprisingly blank face Present Mic is leaning just to the left of the two empty chairs sitting in front of Nezu’s desk. A grim faced All Might is settled into another chair between a pursed lipped Recovery Girl and an irritable looking Hound Dog.
“Please,” Nezu speaks up, waving one paw in Hitoshi and Izuku’s direction, “come sit down so we can get started.”
Izuku, hands twitching in that way that Hitoshi knows means he’s fighting back the urge to twitch and stim, hesitates for a split second. But then, eyes darting between Hitoshi and All Might, he steps forward.
Biting down the need to reach out and give Izuku his hand to play with, a habit that’s developed between them that tends to help both of them stay grounded, and yet relieved to not have to be the one in the lead at the moment, Hitoshi follows him.
They settle down into the empty chairs together, Izuku automatically moving to take the one closest to All Might because of course he does. Hitoshi allows himself the indulgence of shifting his foot just a bit until the tip of his shoe bumps into Izuku’s. The bump he gets in return is quick and barely there but it’s enough to help him breathe a bit easier.
Contact with Izuku, no matter how big or small, always helps to settle him. Izuku swears the same is true for him. They really do seem to be two pieces of the same mess.
“A-Are we in some kind of trouble?” Izuku breaks the silence then, fists pressing down on his thighs before he moves them to rest on the arms of his chair.
“This is a rather delicate situation,” Nezu side steps easily, teacup clicking against the saucer as he sets it down. “So, perhaps, it would be more beneficial to the proceedings to simply dive right in.”
Hitoshi swallows harshly, fingers digging into the meat of his thighs before he forces himself to relax as much as possible.
“It seems there’s been a few rather … unsettling accusations put forth from a number of different directions,” Nezu says delicately. “So, first and foremost, Midoriya-kun I have to ask if you are safe? Is there anything you’d like to report? This is a safe place where no harm will come to you so please speak freely.”
“Sir?” Izuku’s brow furrows and his mouth turns down sharply. “I-I don’t understand?”
“It has come to the attention of the staff and myself,” Nezu replies, something dark and calculating in his gaze as he stares at all of them, “that there is a possibility that your relationship with Shinsō-kun is ... non consensual.”
Hitoshi can’t help the way he flinches sharply, breathing going shallow and ragged as his heart skips a beat and his eyes squeeze tightly shut.
There it is.
The accusation he’d known was coming since that moment in the hallway.
The culmination of the whispers and rumors he’d been expecting since the moment his and Izuku’s relationship became common knowledge to the rest of the school.
Beside him Izuku goes ramrod stiff in his seat.
“Elaborate.” Izuku’s voice is solid, steady.
The sound of it makes Hitoshi’s eyes automatically snap open, his head turning sharply to the side as his attention focuses in on Izuku instantly. His boyfriend’s tone is laced with a kind of cold steel Hitoshi’s only heard a few times before and never directed at a teacher, not to mention Nezu himself.
To the side of them Aizawa suddenly straightens up, eyes locked in on Izuku and shoulders tense.
“Multiple students have expressed concerns for your safety on the basis that Shinsō-kun may have … coerced you into a romantic relationship,” Nezu says evenly. “Naturally the staff must investigate all such complaints thoroughly for the safety of the students in question.”
“Naturally,” Izuku echoes.
“Now Shinsō-kun,” Nezu turns his attention in Hitoshi’s direction then, “do you have anything to say in your defense?”
Hitoshi opens his mouth but finds that the words won’t come, finds that they’re frozen somewhere in his chest. He wants to deny it all, wants to rant and scream that it’s all bullshit, but he can’t. The panic and helplessness that roars to life inside of him keeps his voice gone and his body rigid in his chair.
Because he knows, just as he’s sure Izuku knows, just how badly even an unfounded accusation like this could damage everything Hitoshi has worked for.
But, luckily for him, Izuku seems to be having the exact opposite problem because there’s suddenly a sharp splintering sound that makes almost everyone in the room twitch just a bit.
Hitoshi can only watch, eyes wide, as the arms of the chair Izuku had been gripping practically crumble to the ground on either side of him. They’ve been utterly shattered by the strength of Izuku’s hold on them.
“My boy,” All Might leans forward in his seat as he speaks up, skeletal face creased even deeper than normal.
Hitoshi can’t fully see the look that Izuku cuts in All Might’s direction but whatever his expression is ends up being more than enough to shut All Might up instantly. The hero leans back in his chair, face gone slightly chalky, and turns to stare directly ahead instead of saying anything else.
“You seem upset, Midoriya-kun,” Nezu says calmly, unruffled and something almost gleeful in his tone.
“Upset?” Izuku’s head tilts to the side just a bit as he turns back to look at the principal. “That seems like such a mild word for what I’m feeling right now.”
“Please,” Nezu smiles just a bit, an expression that sits unnaturally on his face, “elaborate.”
“Well sir,” Izuku starts, “I find it really distasteful that someone would accuse Hitoshi of conduct unbecoming of a hero student on this level and that the staff here would humor it at all since everyone in this room knows it’s false.”
“As I said before, all complaints of this nature must be taken seriously,” Nezu reminds him mildly.
“Bullshit,” Izuku practically spits the word, surging to his feet and leaning forward enough to slam his hands down on Nezu’s desk. The wood dents in around his palms but Izuku doesn’t seem to notice, too caught up in his staring contest with Nezu.
“Pro-,” Aizawa takes a step forward then, one hand on his capture scarf.
This time Hitoshi is in the position to actually see the look that Izuku levels at their teacher.
His normally cheerful expression is gone, his mouth is twisted into what can only be described as a snarl and his eyes are dark and sharp. For a split second Hitoshi is almost sure he can see a familiar jade lightning sparking in their depths.
Izuku stares at Aizawa for a few seconds longer before he turns his attention back onto Nezu.
“Hitoshi has never and would never attempt to force me into anything against my will outside of consensual and authorized quirk training.” Izuku says. “Because that’s what this is about right? His quirk?”
“Again,” Nezu smooths one paw over the top of the other and keeps his eyes firmly on Izuku’s face, “we are obligated to investigate all accusations of such a nature. Especially where hero students are concerned. For a variety of reasons.”
“Then why did it take so long for Mineta to get expelled?” Izuku shoots back viciously before he plows on, not bothering to wait for an answer. “Why was he allowed to terrorize our female classmates for so long despite multiple complaints against him but Ikeda and his friends, because we all know that’s where this came from, launch a campaign against Hitoshi and you all immediately jump to this.” Izuku lifts a hand to wave it around the office before he slams it back down onto the desk, denting the wood yet again. “Don’t bother to answer that, I already know.”
“Midoriya,” Nezu starts but this time Izuku doesn’t let him finish.
“I already knew how this school handles outright violence between classmates,” Izuku keeps going just a bit viciously, “but I had hoped it wouldn’t support blatant quirk discrimination beyond the obvious bias of the entrance exam. I guess that was my mistake.”
Hitoshi hears the low hiss that Mic gives out from his spot by the wall.
“Or maybe,” Izuku continues lowly, “my mistake was applying here at all. Maybe UA isn’t the best choice of hero schools if they’re going to entertain accusations that are blatantly false and made by a group of students led by someone who has been verbally and physically assaulting Hitoshi for weeks now.”
The atmosphere in the room abruptly darkens and Hitoshi has to bite back the urge to look around for Todoroki because he feels as if the temperature has literally dropped.
“Beyond the fact that he would never do something so villainous, Hitoshi’s quirk is a call-and-response based emitter that I’ve already proven I can break out of independent of outside assistance,” Izuku practically bites the words out. “Ikeda Kino is just jealous that Hitoshi has done what he never could and never will do himself, earn his spot in A-Class. Hitoshi’s going to be a fantastic hero and I refuse to be used as an excuse to damage his reputation and record.”
Izuku straightens up then, hands pulling themselves out of Nezu’s desk as he turns just enough to bend down and grab his bag up off of the floor. He rifles through it for a few seconds before he pulls out a black covered notebook. He places it almost delicately onto Nezu’s ruined desk.
“This has everything I’ve managed to gather on Ikeda Kino and his group of friends,” Izuku tells Nezu. “It also has a complete log of every insult and instance of assault Hitoshi’s been subjected to in the past few months. You can cross check with Recovery Girl’s records for any injuries and I’m sure you have other sources you can consult too for these kinds of occasions.”
Hitoshi feels a swell of what could almost be described as pity for Ikeda because he knows just how thorough Izuku tends to be on the regular with his notes. A motivated Izuku who seems determined to protect Hitoshi? He has a feeling those notes are going to be scaring on an entirely different level.
“Hitoshi deserves an apology for this,” Izuku practically declares then. “And if UA really is the best of the best then Ikeda deserves to be punished. His record deserves a black mark for false accusations and quirk discrimination as well as multiple instances of assaulting a fellow student. And if those things don’t happen then I’ll do whatever I have to in order to make sure they happen anyways.”
“Is that a threat, Midoriya-kun?” Nezu speaks up then, paws smoothing almost greedily across the cover of the notebook Izuku had passed him.
“No,” Izuku immediately denies. “It’s a statement of fact. If Hitoshi gets punished for this, if his record is damaged and Ikeda is allowed to get away without any consequences then I will be withdrawing from UA and attending a different heroics course elsewhere. I will also do my best to take as many of my classmates with me as I can when I go. And then I will scream every single mistake and misstep I’ve seen UA make from the rooftops. And I won’t stop even after I climb the ranks. I’ll keep going until people have no choice but to take me seriously.”
Hitoshi has to blink rapidly to push back the tears he can feel beginning to well up in his eyes. The affection he feels for Izuku swells up so abruptly and so massively that Hitoshi feels as if his heart is going to burst in his chest.
Standing there, practically glowing with a protective sort of righteous fury on Hitoshi’s behalf, Izuku has never looked more beautiful to him.
And in that moment Hitoshi knows that he wants to spend the rest of his life with this boy.
“I see,” Nezu says quietly.
And then he grins, a wide and tooth filled expression that sends a shiver down Hitoshi’s spine when it’s abruptly turned in his direction.
“I do apologize for this unpleasant matter making it so far Shinsō-kun,” Nezu tells him calmly, as if the past ten minutes have been nothing but a calm chat between all of them. “We will of course take all of this into consideration and conduct a proper investigation. But given the vehemence of Midoriya-kun’s defense of you I think it’s safe to say your record will remain clean here. Please do keep up the hard work and leave the rest of this mess to me.”
Izuku, in another stunning show of rudeness, steps back and reaches down to grab Hitoshi’s hand. He pulls him up out of his seat, Hitoshi barely remembering to grab his bag as he stands, and then sketches a small barely there bow in Nezu’s direction.
“We’re going back to the dorms now.” Izuku announces more than anything as he ushers Hitoshi past a furious looking Aizawa and a wide eyed Mic without another word to anyone else.
Hitoshi, fingers tangled with Izuku’s, lets himself be led out into the hallways, Nezu’s office door closing behind them silently.
Izuku practically tows him down the hallway in silence for a handful of minutes before Hitoshi finally comes back to himself.
He plants his feet on the hall floor and only a winces a bit when Izuku barely seems to notice, Hitoshi’s shoes squeaking across the floor as he’s pulled forward.
It’s only when he tugs at Izuku’s hand that his boyfriend realizes that Hitoshi is no longer moving under his own willpower.
The sheepish smile Izuku shoots him is so at odds with the vengeful force of nature he’d been only moments before.
Hitoshi loves him so much.
“You,” Hitoshi stops, clears his throat, and pushes the words he’s just rediscovered out past his teeth. “You just looked Nezu in the eyes and told him to go fuck himself.”
“Hitoshi!” Izuku practically yelps. “T-That’s now what I said.”
“That might not be what you said,” Hitoshi says, the start of what he knows is probably a monstrous Aizawa-esque grin beginning to blossom across his face, “but it’s absolutely what you did.”
Izuku’s cheeks flush that deep strawberry red Hitoshi loves so much but his expression falls back into that protective, determined look from the office.
“They were being unfair to you,” Izuku tells him quietly. “Even if all accusations are treated equally, which we know they’re not, everyone in there had to know Ikeda was lying. They all know how your quirk works. It was bullshit.”
The sound of Izuku cursing again just makes Hitoshi’s smile widen automatically.
“No one’s ever stood up for me like that,” Hitoshi admits. “I never really thought anyone would.”
“Well you’ve got me now,” Izuku declares, squeezing Hitoshi’s hand in a comforting sort of understanding. “And I’ll always be on your side.”
“Yeah,” Hitoshi agrees. “I’ll always have your back too. In fact I was thinking we should make it official.”
“What?” Izuku’s head tilts to the side just a bit, confusion fluttering across his expression.
Hitoshi just steps closer to Izuku then, crowds up into his space and lifts their entwined hands up between them.
“We’re going to be heroes,” Hitoshi tells him. “But I’ve got another goal in mind now.”
Hitoshi shifts their hands around until he can press a kiss to the back of Izuku’s ring finger.
“You had better save this spot right here for me,” Hitoshi tells Izuku. “Because as soon as we graduate I'm coming for it.”
Izuku abruptly flushes a deep crimson and lets out a strangled sort of sound.
Hitoshi just throws his head back and laughs.
Because that’s very much not a no.
And for now that’s more than enough for Hitoshi.