Chapter Text
"Hitoshi? Listener, it's time to go," Hizashi calls into the apartment and it's only thanks to his years of training that he's able to pick up the difference in the boy's steps. He can hear Hitoshi drag his feet and take his time to slowly close his door and when he finally emerges into the hall his downcast mood is even more apparent with the way he refuses to look anywhere but his socked feet. Hizashi's heart pangs in sympathy for the boy's obvious anxiety, it's even worse knowing that Hitoshi is usually very good at hiding his feelings under a thick layer of apathy. It's not something Hizashi likes but it is in no way Hitoshi's fault plus working with his therapist has helped the boy be able to express himself even if the progress is slow.
"Hitoshi," he addresses the kid again once he's made his way to the door but the boy doesn't respond, only continues to stare at the ground below them. Hizashi lowers himself into a squat to get on the boy's level and from his lower vantage point it's much easier to see tension-filled shoulders hunched far enough to cover part of his ears and through wild purple hair he can make out a quivering lip being held back in a tight bite. The ache in his chest skyrockets at the sight but Hizashi pushes it down to focus on what needs to be done so with one slow and telegraphed movement he reaches for the boy's face and when Hitoshi doesn't pull away he gently grabs onto his chin. "Don't bite, okay?" He tells Hitoshi with soft words as he lightly tugs the reddened skin and the kid releases his bottom lip.
"You know you really don't have to go if you don't want to. I can call Emi over, she's always happy to watch you." Which is in no way an overstatement. The heroine always gets a kick out of Hitoshi's dry wit and deadpanned words.
Hitoshi though, only shrugs and says with a crack to his words, "What if-" he starts but cuts off before the question can form and instead fixes his phrasing, another habit Hizashi really hates and another habit that is once again no way the boy's fault. "I don't want them to hate me," he admits so dejectedly it hurts .
"Oh kid," Hizashi breathes out the words and hurts for the kid who is nothing but sweet yet had been hurt by far too many people in his life in fear of his "villainous" quirk.
He doesn’t know much about the boy's life before his quirk came in but the little Hitoshi could remember and had shared made it seem like he had a good early childhood. That childhood took a sharp turn for the worse the moment eyes glazed over for the first time and an unknowing command was obeyed.
Hizashi had both read the kid's file and heard from the boy himself about that fateful day. The start of his long file, filled with similar "infractions" and incidents, told of an angry boy who wanted nothing more than to hurt his classmate and who had the perfect quirk to do so. On the other hand, Hitoshi's story was much different, and even without knowing of the boy's boundless kindness would be one he was much more inclined to believe. The kid told of a bully who was harassing their shared classmate for her quirk, a mutation that gave her what were perceived as less attractive attributes of a beetle. Hitoshi had tried to stop the bully but was unsuccessful and when words turned to actions Hitoshi made the boy stop after he unknowingly used his quirk for the first time. No one saw it like that though, not even the girl he was protecting. They all feared his ability that could take their freedom, a ridiculous fear because even after he'd been abandoned by his family, rejected by his friends, and shuffled between shitty foster homes not once had Hitoshi ever purposefully used his quirk on anyone. As a child, it was inevitable that he would lose control but people were much less forgiving of accidents with a quirk like his.
Hizashi takes the hand still loosely holding the boy's chin and uses it to slowly lift his gaze. He makes sure Hitoshi has the time and ability to pull away but there is no move made to do so and their eyes meet. "I'm going to be honest," he starts, uncertain if this is the right way to go about it. In every piece of media and even in real life when he's seen it the parent would often tell their kid, "They won't hate you,” "It'll be okay,” or "You have nothing to worry about,” anything to reassure them but Hitoshi had been hurt too many times for him to discredit that and not acknowledge the potential for more pain to happen. "I know that you know there are a lot of people out there who don't like you for your quirk. I also know those people are morons and jerks but that doesn't stop them from being dumb," he says and Hitoshi huffs a laugh. "So, yeah, there's a chance they won't like you but you aren't alone anymore. You've got me and Nemuri and I know every other teacher would stand up for you and none of us will let you get hurt. If you don't want to take the chance you don't have to go but if you do decide to come with me and things go wrong or you just don't feel comfortable you can come help me set up my classroom. What do you think about it?"
Hitoshi frees his head which Hizashi easily allows, letting his hand fall while he patiently waits for the boy to think it through. "That's a promise," he states but Hizashi knows what he really wants to hear.
"I don't just promise, I pinky promise." Hitoshi looks at his extended pinky and after a moment of consideration lifts one of his hands that had been anxiously fidgeting with the end of his shirt. The two connect their fingers and sharply shake, setting his words in stone.
"Okay. I'll come," the kid mumbles but sounds more sure of his answer. Without another word, Hitoshi puts on his preferred sneakers and ties them up while Hizashi looks at him with unending fondness.
"I'm proud of you 'Toshi."
Hitoshi's head snaps back up to Hizashi with a startled expression and a blush creeping onto his cheeks. "Wha-why-I-," he stumbles trying to find anything to say that's not a question and once again Hizashi curses every person who'd ever drilled it into the boy's head that his quirk was inherently bad, that all he could ever do was hurt with it.
He doesn't do what he so wishes he could though and he doesn't let his righteous fury show because that's not what Hitoshi needs right now. "You can ask questions, you know," he assures Hitoshi but it only serves to shut the boy down, curling into himself and eyes dimming of life because people had tricked him before. People had said they were okay with him asking questions, that he was safe with them only to stab him in the back when he trusted those genuine-sounding words, the words he desperately wanted to hear.
Honestly, it's the people like that who he hates most in this world. Yes, the ones that scream horrible insults and feed lies into young, vulnerable ears were horrible. The people who grab too tight to hair and arms and throw children into dark rooms filled with scary unknowns, the monsters lurking in the dark, when they'd be let out, why they were in trouble, were terrible. And Hizashi hated the people who gagged the boy, punishing him for something he never did and never would do. Those people make him want to scream and not like a normal person, no, they make him want to let loose with his quirk, unrelenting until their eardrums rupture but hurt caused by people you know will hurt you don't cut as deep as when it's someone you trusted. Hitoshi doesn't talk about the ones who promised they wouldn't judge, wouldn't hurt, that they were safe because when they inevitably turned the scars they left in place of the hope they'd carved out ran deep. It's those people that make Hizashi's job as a father harder but that won't stop him from breaking down rightfully built walls, carefully removing one brick at a time.
"You don't have to but I will never be upset with you for asking anything or using your quirk as long as it's an accident, emergency, or consensual. And to answer what I know you want to ask, I'm proud because you're trying something you're uncomfortable with and that's very brave. My brave little hero," he says and ruffles the boy's hair who sputters again and tries to fight off the hand.
"I'm not a hero."
Hizashi hums with a mischievous smile and shrugs. "I guess we're just gonna have to agree to disagree then, kiddo."
With a conflicted look on his face, Hitoshi finishes tying his sneakers in silence and Hizashi has to remind him to grab his backpack before they leave the apartment and he locks the door behind them. They walk side by side to the building's underground parking garage, Hizashi shortening his steps to make up for their vast height difference, also in silence. He almost feels bad for breaking the kid but Hitoshi needs to hear more positive things about himself and Hizashi has always been the type to smother those he loves in compliments.
The two reach his old sports car that his friends all poke fun at him for owning, both because it's basically an antique (the fact that he has to manually unlock the doors and there's a crank to roll down the windows gives it character, thank you very much) and for its blindingly bright color. He always ignored them because he loved his old and colorful car, he paid to have it shipped from the United States, where the model was from so of course he loved it, until Hitoshi, the traitor, agreed and with his growing confidence the boy had gotten himself a healthy amount of sass. Hizashi doesn’t mind though because even with his dry sarcasm that sometimes even Hizashi, who prides himself on his charisma and has been described as a fish in water for any type of social situation, couldn't differentiate from serious statements, Hitoshi never intended for his jabs to hurt. Occasionally he'd go too far and Hizashi would have to kindly correct him but mistakes come with being a kid, hell they come with being a person, plus no one could blame the kid for being somewhat socially stunted.
Once they are both buckled up Hizashi starts the car and drives them down a path that had become extremely familiar to him over the past year. He turns on the radio as he very rarely drives anywhere for any amount of time in silence. Another thing he rarely (never) does is change the station from the one that played late 20th-century American music. He spent his college years studying abroad in the country and developed a minor obsession with a large portion of the culture, sue him.
He cranks up the sound hoping the probably slightly too loud melody will calm the anxious boy in his back seat. Hizashi tends to prefer loud, fast, and upbeat music to calm his nerves but "For What It's Worth" has Hitoshi sinking into his seat as some of his tension leaves him and nodding along to the lyrics he has no doubt the boy understands with his proficiency in English, something that Hizashi only had a small role in.
Thanks to it being the middle of a weekday during the break between school years the roads are all but clear so after another half dozen songs they are pulling into the staff parking lot at his old high school and his current place of work. He rolls into a spot and puts the car in park then twists to face the boy who was once again fidgeting with his clothes. "You ready, kid?"
"Yeah," he answers quietly with a crack breaking up the word. God, he can't even imagine what it would be like if Hitoshi went to public school. He supposes it's different though. At school, he'd never been allowed to speak and everyone was made well aware of the capabilities of his quirk. He never had to worry about the possibilities when he knew exactly what he was getting into. At least that's what his old schools were like, Hizashi had thoroughly vetted the elementary school where the boy was currently enrolled and if anything like that happened at that school while Hitoshi lived under his roof then he'd have no issue siccing Nezu on them. This is different though, while similar to his current school in the fact that this kid wouldn't know about Hitoshi's quirk and was thus a completely unpredictable variable Hitoshi would be forced to interact with this boy. Hizashi wasn't lying when he told Hitoshi he'd be allowed to leave whenever for whatever reason but otherwise it's basically a playdate, something Hitoshi hasn't had in at least three years. It was bound to be nerve-wracking.
Hizashi nods and hums at his answer then slips out of the car. He pushes his seat up and Hitoshi squeezes out from the back (yes the car only has two doors but he wasn't exactly planning on having kids or many passengers when he'd bought it) and shuts the door behind himself. Before they move any further Hizashi offers out a hand but Hitoshi chooses to keep his hands on the straps of his bag. He doesn't make a big deal of the rejection, just lowers his hand and starts walking, making sure Hitoshi follows after him.
The parking lot is tucked away just behind the main building so it doesn't take long for them to make it to the teachers' lounge and it doesn't hurt that Hitoshi's already been desensitized to the vast and sleek wonder that is UA.
Hizashi slides open the door to the lounge and steps aside to let Hitoshi in. Not five seconds after he's stepped through the door a higher-pitched voice calls the boy's name. "Hito! I didn't know you were coming in today," one of his best friends exclaims and shoots a glare at Hizashi who only rolls his eyes.
"Hi Aunt Nemuri," the kid greets with a small wave.
"Oh, you're so sweet. Speaking of, I've got something of you." Hitoshi perks up remembering what he gets from the woman every time they see each other which is often. Nemuri brandishes an eye-catching package with a smile. "It's sour gummy worms this time."
The boy takes the bag of candy and chirps a "Thank you." Hizashi on the other hand raises an unimpressed eyebrow at his friend.
"When he gets a cavity I'm gonna make you take him to the dentist."
The woman's smile turns into a smirk. "Totally worth it to be Hito's favorite aunt."
Hitoshi opens the pack and pops a dual-colored cany into his mouth. "Aunt Emi's funnier."
Hizashi doesn't bother hiding his snort in response to Nemuri's offended squawk. "That doesn't count. It's like saying 'Zashi's louder or I'm better at putting people to sleep," she tries to reason but Hitoshi just shrugs. "Alright fine, I guess I'll just have to punish her for taking my rightful spot," the woman purrs and subtly caresses her whip which has Hizashi hissing her name.
"Don't talk about your s-e-x life in front of my kid please."
"Oh please,” the 18+ hero waves him off, “he wouldn't even know anything if you hadn't pointed it out."
"Know something," Hitoshi repeats with a cocked head and Hizashi suppresses his urge to groan.
"It's not important kid."
Hitoshi looks unimpressed but doesn't get the opportunity to say anything more. "It's boring adult stuff Hito and you know how boring he can get," she mock whispers with a wink as she jabs a thumb at him.
Hitoshi nods solemnly, ripping another worm in half with the movement. "I am not boring ," Hizashi denies.
Nemuri raises an unimpressed eyebrow and crosses her arms against her chest. "You're here because you're a teacher putting together their classroom."
"I'm decorating and it's gonna look cool, ” he defends but only gets a disbelieving “Mhm” in response. “Like a shot through the heart. But alright, I know when I’m not wanted,” he jokes with feigned dramatics but sobers up to serious after a few seconds. “That is if you’re sure you don’t want me to stick around? At least until they get here.”
"I'm not a baby," Hitoshi insists petulantly, "I can do this by myself."
"I know, I know.” He answers but mentally thinks about how the boy will always be his baby. “Nemuri-"
"Yeah, I know. I'll make sure he comes back with all seven fingers and toes."
"Ten, Nem, ten," Hizashi corrects.
"Close enough now stop bothering us," Nemuri orders and practically shoos him out of the room. Even after the door closes behind him Hizashi doesn't move from it. He doesn't really mean to stop. Hitoshi will be fine, he reasons, Nemuri may joke around but if it came down to it he knows she wouldn't let anything happen to the boy. He knows these things but he also knows no matter what apathetic front Hitoshi tries to put on he's still worried, bordering on scared about meeting the mystery kid and he hates leaving his kid like that. He hates it but it is what Hitoshi asked for so he'll respect it and if there is a bad outcome he'll deal with it when the time comes. Still, he hesitates, takes one last breath, and pushes off the wall. Right now all he needs to do is focus on getting his classroom and himself ready for the new year and if he throws himself into his work to take his mind off the kid he left behind well there's no one around to know.
Hizashi hears his phone ping from where he'd left it on the podium in the front of the room, having not trusted himself to keep track of it in his chaotic storm of a cleaning and decoration process if he didn't leave it in one obvious place. With his promise to Hitoshi in mind and the anxiety still present despite his attempts to push it down, he quickly crosses the room to check the message. His seemingly overprotective care pays off when he reads the bubble of text lighting up his screen and his heart drops. Barely stopping to actually pick up his phone Hizashi races out of the room and trusts his body to take him down the often-used route to the teachers' lounge while his mind stays on the message still on his lock screen.
Nem
need you in the lounge asap
2:16 pm
Running down the hall, he rounds the corner and barely has time to stop himself before barreling into his friend. "Nemuri," he says out of breath but not from the minor physical activity, "you said there was an emergency, where's Hitoshi?"
"The kid's fine," she claims dismissively, "I'm just about to go find him."
"Find him?" he wheezes and Nemuri just rolls her eyes.
"Yes, you two need to stop worrying so much. Now go in there and talk to Izuku's father, those boys were already attached at the hip when I let them leave so you'll all be seeing a lot of each other soon, I'm sure, so clear the air," she demands and much like when he'd left hours before the woman practically shoves him through the door and shuts it behind him.
"Clear the-?" he starts in confusion but cuts himself off once he regains his balance and takes in the man in front of him. Long dark hair barely flows past tense shoulders but is kept out of the man's face by two tied-back strands, allowing his sharp jawline to be unobstructed. His eyes look so similar to when Hizashi had last seen them, dark and exhausted with deep circles underneath them but none of it takes away from the sharp, calculating edge to them. It also doesn't take away from the look in those eyes basically screaming how much they'd rather be anywhere else at that moment. Hizashi can concur although he highly doubts Shouta's avoidance is because the man can't stop thinking about how even though his costume isn't exactly form fitting, it's obvious how much muscle he's put on since high school because for some god-forsaken reason that's about the only thing on Hizashi's mind.
Hizashi tries hard to mercilessly kill those feelings but it isn't until the other man speaks that those feelings fall away and are replaced by unearned heartache. "Yamada," Shou-Aizawa addresses him and for some reason, the use of his family name cuts deep. Sure they may not have been in contact for almost five years but before that, they had been inseparable. But whose fault was it that they no longer held that bond, his brain hisses and Hizashi can't help but reluctantly agree. He doesn't deserve to feel any kind of way about how the other man chose to address him, he can only accept it and return the same.
"Aizawa," he returns and even with his reasoning the name still leaves a bad taste on his tongue and a twisting in his stomach. "It's been a while."
"It has," Aizawa confirms tensely and shoves his hands into deep pockets. Hizashi thinks those awkwardly exchanged words will be the end of any conversation between them but after a moment of stifling silence, he's surprised when the other man speaks again. "So you work at UA now?"
For a moment Hizashi stands there, probably looking and definitely feeling like a deer in the headlights before he is able to shake himself free. "Yeah, English and I'm getting a homeroom class this year. And you?"
"Law and ethics," he says and Hizashi has to fight a smile at the memory of Aizawa's first law and ethics class after he'd joined class A and how the man, then boy, had left their teacher at a loss for words with what quickly became a one-sided ethics debate.
His efforts are all for not when he huffs a laugh, "It suits you." Once he realizes his failure Hizashi is quick to kick the smile off his face and remind himself he could have had more of those sweet moments if he didn't allow them to drift apart so long ago. Still, much like then Hizashi is a selfish man and he refuses to let this tense conversation die. "You uh you have a kid now."
"A foster kid," he amends with a one-shouldered shrug, "but yes and you do too."
"Yeah and same,” he answers because technically Hitoshi is only his foster son although if things continue to go as smoothly as they have soon they’ll lose the first part of that title, Hizashi will too become just a dad.
"Cool," Aizawa responds and Hizashi has to hold in a sharp laugh. It's not necessarily funny, more the nerves begging him to make more of a fool of himself but that doesn't mean hearing the word "cool" come out of the man's mouth unironically and nonthreateningly isn’t super weird. It wasn't even something he had said when they were in their early years of high school. "I think-"
Aizawa starts at the same time Hizashi does, "Look Sh-Aizawa." He has to correct himself but with their overlap, he hopes the slip-up wasn't caught. "Oh, I'm sorry. You go first," he insists but the other man denies with a grunt.
"No, it's nothing just say what you were going to say."
Hizashi studies the man for a minute but it seems he'd well and truly lost his ability to "speak Shouta" as they used to call it when deciphering his flat tones and closed-off body language so eventually, he sighs and gives in. "Fine. I just wanted to say-"
"We're back!" His best friend announces, cutting off his words, as she dramatically slides open the door. The woman steps into the room and the sight following her is one Hizashi has to hold himself back from cooing at. It's quite possibly the cutest thing he's ever seen so restraining himself is a difficult task but while Hitoshi will tolerate his compliments and fussing (Hizashi knows he loves it. He can see under the blush and into the small smile unable to keep itself tucked away) right now he really doesn't want to embarrass the kid, at least not in front of his new friend because there isn't any other explanation for the two boys.
The two have their hands clasped together and Hitoshi's arm is shaking from the green-haired boy's less contained elation. Hitoshi is obviously over the moon with their situation with the wide, bordering on toothy smile splitting his face. Once again it takes everything in him to not melt at the sight of the boy who has such a childlike happiness about him. His heart burns a little with the bitter thought that this is how Hitoshi should look and feel every day but it's overpowered by the fact that he is happy now and that happiness is infectious.
He's momentarily distracted by Aizawa's gravelly voice which sounds so different from how short it had been during their conversation and has to rip his eyes away from the subtle but undeniably soft expression on the man's face. He also has to force down the thoughts of the last time he'd seen the man with such a fond look in his eyes. To keep all those annoying thoughts away he turns back to Hitoshi who immediately turns the sour feeling that had grown around.
"You find yourself a friend?" He asks because he doesn't want to completely embarrass the kid but teasing was never taken off the table however Hitoshi isn't looking at him and is instead staring at Aizawa with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.
The boy is stuck like that for a moment but very suddenly breaks out of his shock and says a single word. It's only one word but the inflection on the yelped "Eraserhead!?" makes it undeniable that the name Hitoshi lets out isn’t only a name but a question.