Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Toshinori is not having the best day of his life. But, then again, he hasn't been having the best day in, oh, five years.

It starts with the taste of iron in his mouth and a heaviness in his eyes incurable by sleep. It starts with his knuckles curled up against the counter as he hacks up a glob of blood into the sink. It starts with the feeling of dry bread being swallowed reluctantly down his throat.

So. Yeah. Not great.

Toshinori wearily pours himself a cup of steaming black coffee and practically downs it, ignoring his burning tongue. It wasn’t always like this. That's the thought that flashes through his mind, bitter and unprompted. It shouldn't be like this. His life used to be functional, happy, but he was too reckless and too idiotic, and one thing led to another, ending him here: living day by day, with a wound on his stomach that never quite healed and his job as a doctor being the only constant he knows.

He sets down the coffee cup. The sound echos in the empty apartment. It’s enough to jolt him back into the present, and he sighs, rubbing his jaw. Perhaps he'll need another cup to make it through today.

On the counter, his phone buzzes, lighting up with a call. Working on autopilot, his hands move to take it, and he answers without bothering to look at the caller ID. “Hello?” Toshinori asks, trying to sound awake and chipper. He plasters on a smile, just to trick himself.

“Hi, it’s Inko.” The voice on the other side sounds flustered. “Sorry for calling at such an early time.”

Toshinori blinks. He checks the caller ID, and, yes that's Inko. “It’s fine,” he replies. He isn’t upset at the phone call, per se, Inko had been a friend of his for a long time (the distance between them, however, always growing), he’s just...confused. “Why are you calling?”

“I’m so sorry,” Inko says again before answering his question. “Family issues are cropping up and suddenly I have to fly out in a few days and I have no idea when I’m coming back…”

Toshinori waits patiently for her to collect her thoughts.

Inko takes in a breath. “My point is,” she says. “I need you to take care of my son.”

Toshinori leans back against the counter. He remembers Inko telling him, once, about her son. Izuku, is it? She had always wanted them to meet, but all their plans fell through in some way. A million questions run through his mind, so he picks the first. “Why me?”

“Most of my friends are unavailable. And I trust you,” Inko says simply. “I know we haven’t talked in ages but I also know you’re more than capable of taking care of my son. He’s six, I can’t just leave him on his own.”

Toshinori purses his lips. He knows Inko is thinking of five-years-ago Yagi Toshinori, not the Yagi Toshinori of today, who could hardly bother to take care of himself. "I'm not sure," he replies dubiously. "I've never taken care of someone that young before."

"You're great with children," Inko presses. "I'll tell you everything you need to know. I don't know if I can trust anyone more."

Toshinori falls silent. He looks around at his sparse, small apartment. There’s a dusty, abandoned guest room where the kid could stay. He’d need to buy more food and start cooking again, but that's doable. Maybe make the house look a little more lived in, buy a few toys to make him comfortable, choose different shifts at the hospital...he's already preparing for Izuku to stay.

“Toshinori? Are you still there?”

He swallows. “So when are you dropping him off?”

He can practically hear her smile over the phone.

Inko came over two days later as promised, and with her Izuku, peeking out behind his mother’s legs. Toshinori grins at him, and he squeaks and covers his face. Inko had warned him in advance that Izuku was nervous around strangers, but he hadn't expected the kid to be unable to meet his eyes.

“Toshinori will take good care of you,” Inko promises Izuku, smiling down at him. “I won’t be gone for too long.”

Izuku nods, eyes downcast. He finally glances up at Toshinori and utters, very quietly, "Hi."

Toshinori's heart melts. “Hello, young Izuku." He kneels down to talk to him eye-to-eye. “My name is Toshinori. I’ll be taking care of you for the next few months.”

Izuku clutches onto his mother’s leg. “Don’t want you to go,” he mumbles.

“He’s very shy,” Inko says to Toshinori. “He’ll warm up to you soon enough.” She ruffles Izuku’s hair. “Behave while I’m gone, okay? I’ll be back before you know it.” She sweeps Izuku up in a tight hug and presses a kiss to his forehead. "Be good for me."

When she sets Izuku down, she fixes Toshinori with a firm look. “School starts at 9:00, don't forget. And he's allergic to blueberries, so don't give him any."

“Got it.”

“His favorite food is katsudon—”

“I’ll make it for him someday.”

“And try not to lose his stuffed animals—”

“Inko,” Toshinori interrupts. “You sent me an email covering all this.” The email had been way too long, in Toshinori’s opinion, but if he were Inko, he would do anything in his power to make Izuku happy as well.

“Right, of course.” Inko leans down to hug Izuku once more before waving to the two of them and climbing back in her car. “I’ll call you later, Toshinori. Have fun, Izuku!”

Izuku waves back as his mother drives away, his face immediately falling as soon as she’s gone. Toshinori grabs Izuku’s suitcase and leads him into the apartment building.

Izuku is quiet, even when they enter Toshinori’s apartment, choosing to look around wide-eyed instead of speaking. He seems to be enthralled by the large glass windows, and even more so by one of Toshinori’s hanging plants. When Toshinori catches him touching a leaf reverently, he snatches his hand back and looks away shyly.

Toshinori bites his cheek to prevent a laugh. “Your room is right over here,” he says, opening the door to his spare room. He sets Izuku’s suitcase on the bed, nodding encouragingly as Izuku approaches him. Once Izuku climbs onto the bed, they unpack together. Clothes, books, toys...Inko was thorough. Toshinori tries to coax Izuku into explaining his toys, as they uncover them one by one, but Izuku only manages to whisper a few words before falling silent. He shifts to giving his own commentary, which Izuku seems to enjoy listening to, giving small nods in response.

When the unpacking is done, Toshinori turns to Izuku and offers him one of his action figures. “You go play while I make dinner, okay?”

“Okay.” Izuku smiles at him shyly as he takes the toy and it’s possibly one of the cutest things in the world. He can hear Izuku quietly talking to himself as he turns out of the room and into the kitchen to start making dinner. It’s a simple meal, just miso soup and rice, which he hopes will suffice. By the time he finishes cooking, Izuku has shifted to coloring, and Toshinori can't help but laugh at the sight of crayon tracks that somehow made their way on his wall. He can't bring it in himself to be annoyed, not when they give life to his dulled apartment.

"Izuku," he calls softly. "Dinner is ready."

Izuku seems reluctant to drop his crayons, but he stands up obediently and carefully closes his sketchbook. Toshinori can't quite make out what he drew, but he catches bright scribbles of red, blue, and yellow. He leads Izuku over to the dinner table and Izuku watches with curious eyes as he ladles out soup and rice. "Eat as much as you want," he tells him, and Izuku nods, eager to eat.

“Blow on it first,” Toshinori advises as Izuku is about to eat a spoonful of soup. He dutifully follows the direction before sticking it in his mouth.

“Is it good?” Toshinori asks, a bit anxiously. He can't remember the last time he had cooked for someone.

Izuku nods. “Really yummy!” he says brightly and Toshinori can’t help but smile.

“Good,” he says. “That’s...good.” Hey, he’s all right at this parenting thing.

After dinner, Izuku sits besides him on the couch as Toshinori takes up his laptop to call Inko. She had insisted on a skype call at least twice a week and judging by the look of excitement on Izuku’s face, they’d probably be calling her more than that.

When Inko’s face appears on his old laptop, Izuku lights up almost crawling into Toshinori’s lap to see her. “Hi, Mommy!” he chirps, poking the screen.

“Hi, Izuku, sweetheart,” Inko says, laughing a little. “And hi, Toshinori. I hope he behaved well.”

“He was perfect,” Toshinori assures her.

“That’s good.” The tension drains out of Inko's shoulders. “How do you like Toshinori?” she asks Izuku and Izuku tilts his head, thinking.

“I like him. He’s very nice,” Izuku decides matter-of-factly, and that shouldn’t affect Toshinori as much as it does, because he finds himself unable to stop a smile spreading from across his face.

“I’m glad you do,” Inko says warmly. “He’s a very good friend of mine.”

Izuku is silent for a moment. “When are you coming back?” he asks finally.

“Maybe in a few months?” Inko winces as Izuku’s face falls. “But Toshinori will take good care of you, I promise. And you can call me anytime you want.” A voice calls from off-screen and Inko bites her lip. “I have to go, okay? I love you, sweetheart. I'll call again soon.”

“Love you,” Izuku mutters. They say their goodbyes and Toshinori closes the laptop, setting it down on a table. He glances at Izuku. The boy looks dead on his feet, so he swings Izuku up (which earns him a small smile) and carries him on his back, careful not to exert himself. "Let's get you ready for bed, kiddo."

He sets Izuku down in the bathroom and hands him a toothbrush (it's superhero themed), which Izuku reluctantly takes. They brush their teeth together. Izuku’s so small, he needs a stool to reach a sink.

“It was a long day, huh?” Toshinori comments as he hefts Izuku up again.

“Mm.” Izuku yawns, had lolling to rest against Toshinori’s shoulder. Toshinori quietly carries him to his room and, by the time he lays him down on his bed, Izuku is already half-asleep. Toshinori smiles down at him before tucking him in gently and walking quietly back to his own room. Once the door shuts, behind him, he lets out a shuddering cough he hadn't realized he was holding back. When he looks down at his hand, it's speckled red.

Toshinori grimaces. Perhaps it's too much to hope that Izuku won't find out about his condition. The last thing the six year old needs is another worry on his plate, and it's Toshinori's duty to make him feel as comfortable and happy as possible. He wipes the blood off his hand and mouth with a tissue and stares down hard at it, before discarding it in the trash. It'll be fine, he tells himself uneasily. A little coughing is easy enough to hide.

The next morning, he still feels indebted to Izuku, so he wakes up early to make pancakes. Thankfully, he still has all the needed ingredients (although his flour is running a bit low) and the recipe he found online is easy enough to follow. He burns the first three, but the fourth comes out golden brown and perfect. Izuku stumbles into the kitchen sleepily just as he flips his fifth.

“You’re up early,” Toshinori remarks.

“Pancakes?” Izuku questions in response. He clambers up on a chair so he can watch Toshinori closer. When he flips another, Izuku claps his hands.

"Can I help?" He bounces eagerly in his seat and Toshinori laughs. He reaches for Izuku's hands and when Izuku gives them to him, he closes them around the skillet handle.

"Ready?" he asks, and Izuku nods rapidly. "Here we go!" With his hands around Izuku's, he flips a pancake with him and it lands back on the skillet, off-center. "I did it!" Izuku gasps and Toshinori smiles at him encouragingly.

They eat and, after mopping up the mess of syrup on the table, Toshinori helps Izuku get ready for school, zipping up his backpack and tying his shoelaces. He can't help but triple-check whether or not he has all his supplies, until Izuku, a ball of kinetic energy, practically bolts out the door.

In the car, Toshinori glances back at Izuku from the rear-view mirror. He's running a finger along the window, prodding at the cars that pass by. "Who's your teacher, Izuku?"

“Aizawa-sensei,” Izuku replies. The name sounds familiar, but Toshinori can’t quite place it. It’s...probably nothing.

"You like him?"

"Uh-huh." Izuku swings his legs. "He says my drawings are pretty."

Well. That sounds good enough for Toshinori. He turns his attention back on the road and lets Izuku go back to amusing himself with the window.

When he pulls up at the front of the school, Izuku is practically vibrating in his seat, desperate to get out. He dimly remembers Inko telling him about Izuku's first day of school, and how he had three breakdowns before she could get him inside, and can't help but be grateful that it wasn't him who had to handle that. Once Izuku is out of the car, he waves at Toshinori sunnily, before running over to where his friends are gathered.

Toshinori waits until a teacher comes outside to usher them inside, before heading back in his car and pulling out to go to work. As his fingers drum on the steering wheel, he realizes that, throughout this morning, he hadn't stopped to reminisce once od his life before.

Yeah. He could get used to this.

Shouta doesn’t know how this happened.

He had never really considered being a teacher when he was younger, much less a kindergarten teacher. It was more of a split-second decision made in college, with little thought of what the future would entail. And yet here he is, with his arms full of twenty hyperactive six year olds, regretting every single life decision ever. His parents, who were hoping for a lawyer, would be so disappointed to see him now.

He winces as his hair is tugged sharply on from where he sits, immobile on the floor. At least half of his students are crawling over him, playing with his hair or poking him in the eye. The other half is wrapping themselves in his scarf that’s discarded on the floor. They're all extremely good at ambushes like this. Shouta would be proud if--ow--his leg wasn't falling asleep right now.

“Katsuki!” he snaps as the aforementioned student pushes Izuku down to grab a handful of blocks. “We don’t want another talk with your mother, do we?”

Katsuki shakes his head, glaring at Izuku, and storms off. Eijirou follows after him. Shouta sighs and shakes his head. At least he trusts Katsuki not to lash out at Eijirou. Even if he does, Eijirou always takes it with a smile.

“Don’t move!” Mina prods him with a finger. Somehow, it's covered in glitter, which is most definitely now smeared on his face. “We’re braiding your hair!”

Great, he thinks wryly. It was definitely a mistake, to let the kids off early as they wait for recess. He sighs again when he feels Ochako tie a knot in his hair and settles on watching as Shouto tangles himself in his scarf.

His eye catches on the clock just as it turns 11:45. "All right, everyone off." He stands up, shaking off the kids, who scatter. Crouching down next to Shouto, he unravels his scarf from Shouto's arms and legs, then tosses it on his desk. As his class scrambles to put on their jackets, Shouta absentmindedly touches the back of his hair. Feeling a myriad of knots and braids, he groans. His evening is booked then, dedicated to untangling this mess.

Shouta can’t help but question, not for the first time, why exactly he loves this job.

The children trail out of the classroom for recess and Shouta watches them from afar. They’re more than entertaining—Fumikage is talking to birds, the girls are playing hide and seek (they're having a hard time finding Tooru), and Tenya, Izuku, and Ochako are drawing pictures with chalk. Ochako blows some dust on Tenya's clothes and giggles when he squawks in surprise.

“They’re adorable, aren’t they?” Shouta doesn't need to turn to know it's Yamada coming up from behind him. His own class is making a ruckus over in the corner as a boy shows off the grasshopper he's caught.

“They make my life living hell,” Shouta notes. “But yes, adorable.”

Yamada shakes his head. "It's not just them that are troublesome. I think Emi’s been telling everyone you two are getting married,” he continues. “Just as a heads up.” Fukukado Emi, nicknamed ‘Ms. Joke’ liked to regale stories of how she and Shouta fell in love. While amusing to some (most), it was just annoying to him, which he knew only fueled her on further.

(He knew that if he laughed at one of her jokes, she'd drop it, but the blow to both his ego and reputation was too big a sacrifice.)

Shouta rubs his eyes. “According to her we’re married, have three kids and a dog, and live in a two story apartment together.” A pause. "Aside from me being gay, it's ridiculous to believe I'd own a dog."

Yamada grins. “Well,” he says, nudging Shouta with an elbow. “At this rate, you're gonna end up alone. You’re thirty and you refuse to date a single person since, what, college?” He laughs. “I should set you up with someone.”

Shouta eyes him. “I don’t think so,” he replies dryly. “Dating isn’t my thing. You should know this by now.” A shout rings out and he snaps his head towards Katsuki. “Don’t throw that at Izuku!”

Katsuki stares at him in the eye and throws a ball at Izuku. It bounces off his head and immediately Izuku’s eyes well up in tears.

Shouta throws an exasperated glance at Yamada as he pushes himself up off the wall and walks off to go comfort the now-crying Izuku. “Adorable, right?” he mutters, kneeling down to rub Izuku's back. Katsuki seems offended by this display of attention and stalks off. Shouta exhales. Getting him to apologize would be near impossible.

Izuku's tears start to ebb as Shouta soothes him, and he digs out a tissue to wipe his face clean. "Feeling better?" he murmurs. "I know you just wanted to play with him."

Izuku's lip just wobbles in response, so Shouta pulls him into a hug. This happens far too frequently and, according to both their mothers, has been happening since they were four. Shouta just--doesn't know what to do. But he'll figure it out, because his kids were never going to leave unhappy, not if he could help it.

When he pulls back, Izuku's tears have stopped, and he looks up at Shouta timidly. "Can I go play with Ochako and Tenya now?"

Shouta ruffles his curls. "Of course you can. Come to me if Katsuki bullies you again, okay?"

Izuku nods and takes off towards his friends. Mood swings will forever be difficult for Shouta to predict, but he'd wait an eternity to see Izuku flash him one of those blinding grins. As Shouta makes his way back to Yamada, Izuku glances at him and gives Shouta a shaky half-smile, just before Ochako tackles him in a hug.

Shouta watches, and something in him softens. Yeah. This is why he teaches.

At the end of the day, Shouta is exhausted. The kids were more hyper than usual today, and yet he ended up being the one drained. He watches his students chatter among themselves as school draws to a close. He needs a cup of coffee desperately.

“Aizawa.” Shouta looks up to see Kayama Nemuri standing at the doorway.

“Kayama." He nods to her. “What do you need?”

“I’m taking Midoriya Izuku home today,” she says. “His mother is away for a few months, so it’s my job to take care of him in the afternoons.”

Shouta furrows his eyebrows, looking to where Izuku is happily doodling on a table. Directly on it. With permanent markers. He can feel a headache coming on. “I didn’t know you knew his mother,” he says, in an effort to distract himself. “So is he living with you?”

“Oh, no.” Kayama waves her hands, shaking her head. “He’s staying with one of my friends, Yagi Toshinori. Yagi works pretty late at the ER, though, so he couldn’t make room in his schedule.” She pauses, thinking. “I think Yamada is taking care of Izuku tomorrow? It's all depending on his shifts.”

Shouta raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you two had a mutual friend.”

Kayama laughs. “I’m surprised you haven’t met Yagi yet,” she replies. “I think you’d hate him.”

“I hate most people,” Shouta says airily.

“Even me?” Kayama asks, looking a little put off.

“No comment. Don’t you have a class to get to?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Kayama punches him lightly on the shoulder. “I’ll see you around, Aizawa.”

Shouta raises a lazy hand in a wave and watches Kayama leave the classroom. His eyes stray to Izuku once more. It must be hard for that kid, to have his mother leave, he thinks. He knows his father works abroad and he must not have much family near him…

Whoever Yagi Toshinori is, he better know what he’s doing.

Yagi Toshinori has no idea what he’s doing.

It’s 11 pm and he just left work and fuck, he was supposed to be at his apartment by nine, shit, shit, shit, he’s a terrible parent. He fumbles for his phone as he runs out of the subway, calling Kayama.

“I’m so, so, so sorry,” he says as soon as she picks up. “Work went late and I completely lost track of time, god, I’m sorry.”

“Calm down,” Kayama says. “Everything’s taken care of. Izuku’s in bed. I wasn’t doing anything tonight, anyway. It’s fine.”

“I’m sorry,” Toshinori says again, rounding a corner. “I’m such a mess. Why did Inko even think to let me near her son?”

“It’s fine,” Kayama stresses. She's quiet for a bit as Toshinori enters his apartment building. “We’re here for you, Yagi. If I couldn’t watch over the kid, I would’ve found another of our friends to do it.”

“I know, I just—” The elevator is frustratingly slow. “I just want to do something right. I really need that right now.” Once he reaches his floor, he takes out his key as he dashes to his apartment. “Okay, I’m here now.” He fumbles to open the door and when he does, he sees Kayama waiting for him, a comforting smile on her face.

“Did you—”

“I made sure he ate and did his homework,” Kayama reassures him. She places her hands on his shoulder. “Need anything else?”

Toshinori shakes his head. “No, I don’t. Thank you so much, Nemuri.”

“I got your back,” Kayama replies. She throws on her coat and opens the door. “I’ll see you later, Yagi. Take care of yourself?” She waits until he reluctantly nods before walking out, the door clicking quietly shut behind her.

Toshinori exhales slowly and sets his bag down. He rubs his eyes and heads towards Izuku's room to check in on him. Before he can, the door creaks open and Izuku's little head pokes out to stare out, eyes wide. His hands are clutching a giant bunny plushie.

“Izuku?” Toshinori rushes to him. “Why aren’t you sleeping?” A million and one terrible possibilities flash through his mind. He crouches down beside him, holding his shoulders. "Is everything okay?"

“I was waiting for you.” Izuku blinks up at him. "Didn't know if you were coming back.”

“Oh.” Something breaks inside him, something that has been building up inside of him for a long time, a mix of exhaustion and worry and stress. He wraps Izuku in a hug, even as his left side aches. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers. “Never think that again, okay?”

“Okay.” Izuku buries his face in Toshinori’s chest and Toshinori holds him closer. He tries to say a lot in that hug. Don't worry. Everything's okay. I'm here, I'm here, I won't leave.

The clock ticks 11:30 and the world takes a breath.

Chapter Text

He learns a lot from Izuku, Toshinori soon finds out. Like how quickly Izuku’s mood can shift or how to convince him to eat vegetables or the names of each and every one of his stuffed animals.

And on this lovely Saturday morning, he learns that being poked in the eye is not a fun way to wake up.

He cracks open his eyes, squinting in the light, and is met with Izuku staring down at him. When he realizes that Toshinori is awake, Izuku immediately brightens, and promptly begins bouncing on the bed. “Can we go to the playground please please please?”

Toshinori squeezes his eyes shut, then opens them again. The clock reads 6:30, and it should be a crime to have to be functional at this hour. He sits up blearily and follows Izuku as he bounces up and down. “...The playground?”

Izuku nods excitedly. “Please?” He bounces again, loses his footing, and topples to the ground. Toshinori bolts upright, but Izuku pops back up, undaunted and still grinning. “Please?” he asks again, for good measure.

Toshinori holds up his hands. "All right, all right, we'll go," he agrees and Izuku beams. And there's another thing learned. He can't say no to that face if he tried.

Breakfast is frozen waffles because Toshinori is too tired to make something proper. Judging from how closely Izuku is watching the toaster, it’s safe to say he doesn’t mind. An hour later, they’re out the door, Izuku happily skipping ahead of Toshinori. He remembers being that young and waking up early every weekend. If only he had that energy now.

“Does your mother take you to the park often?” Toshinori asks, catching up to Izuku and taking his hand.

Izuku bobs his head up and down. “Yup!” he says, taking a careful step over a crack in the sidewalk. “It’s fun!”

They stop at a crosswalk, Izuku babbling about the park, and Toshinori drops his hand for a moment to check the GPS on his phone. He’s certainly familiar with the area, but he doubts Izuku would be too happy to get lost on their way.

He glances up to see if the light has changed. When he realizes it hasn't, his eyes dip down back to Izuku. Izuku, who had been telling him about his love for the slide, is--

--not there.

Toshinori's heart drops. Izuku's small frame is running across the road, right into the path of an oncoming car, and they're going to collide.

Dashing forward, he grabs Izuku by the waist and lifts him up and away. The car skids to a stop, just barely stopping in front of them. Toshinori wraps a firm arm around Izuku's waist and manages a shaky smile at the driver. He only looks mildly annoyed at almost running over a kid.

Toshinori's heart is still racing as he carries Izuku over to the opposite sidewalk and sets him down. “Don’t ever do that again,” he says firmly, dropping down in front of Izuku. “Always look both ways and never cross without me. Got that?”

Izuku nods dutifully.

“Good.” Toshinori stands up and Izuku reaches up to grab onto his finger. His heart rate is only now starting to slow. God, he doesn’t even want to think about what would’ve happened if the car hadn’t stopped…

Izuku starts to ramble about the park again, using his hands to create wild gestures, and Toshinori lets out a breath. This kid's going to give me an early death. He can taste blood in his mouth and he surreptitiously coughs it into a tissue. His doctor had specifically advised him against short bursts of exertion but, then again, his doctor didn't have a young child, did they?

At the park, Izuku immediately flocks towards the playground. Toshinori watches as he skids to a stop in front of a young girl with a round face and rosy cheeks. A friend from school? They talk excitedly amongst each other, and Izuku points back towards Toshinori. The young girl grins toothily and waves at him.

“Hi, sunflower man!” she says cheerfully. “I’m Uraraka Ochako! Deku’s best friend!”

Sunflower man? “Hello, Ochako.” Toshinori waves back at her. “Are you two in the same class?”

Ochako nods her head. She looks as if she wants to say more but Izuku grabs her arm and tugs at it a little impatiently. Ochako lets him drag her over to the slide, but not before giving Toshinori one last fluttery wave. "Bye, sunflower man!"

Toshinori shakes his head. Kids. He’ll never understand them. He settles down on a bench as Izuku and Ochako move on to the swingset, tilting his head up to let warm sunlight wash over him. It’s a rather beautiful day, and he knows that if not for Izuku, he would've spent it all inside. He smiles to himself. Maybe taking care of Izuku would be a good thing for him after all.

Toshinori slips out a book from his coat and falls into a rhythm. Turn a page, check Izuku. Read about Yakushima cedars, make sure Izuku hasn't tripped on the playground's soft sand. He isn't sure how long he goes like this, until he looks up to see Izuku tugging at his hand.

“Need something?” Toshinori asks him.

Izuku waves his hands, too excited to talk at first, before finally exclaiming, “Flowers!”

“Flowers?” Toshinori repeats. Izuku tugs at his hand again and he allows himself to be led over to the edge of the playground, where the grass grows long and thick. Ochako is sitting on the ground, plucking yellow, long-stemmed flowers.

“Flower crowns!” she chirps happily, weaving together the flowers. Her hands work surprisingly nimble for a child.

Izuku sits on the ground next to her and Toshinori does the same. Izuku hands him a bunch of flowers, slightly crushed under his grip. Toshinori takes them and watches as Izuku begins to tie together flowers of his own, before realizing that he wants him to join in.

A few minutes later, Izuku proudly presents him with a small flower crown. “It’s for you!” he says proudly and Ochako pouts.

“Mine was going to be for sunflower man,” she complains. “Now I’ll have to give it to you." She looks disappointed at the thought.

Toshinori can't help but laugh at that as he takes the flower crown and places it on his head. It’s much too small for him, but it doesn’t fall off at least, and Izuku grins.

“Now we can all be princesses!” he says, sounding delighted at the thought.

“You can’t be a princess,” Ochako says to him bluntly, placing her flower crown on his head. “You’re not pretty enough.”

Toshinori watches as Izuku throws flowers at her and they began to tussle and throw grass and dirt at each other. Toshinori isn’t quite sure if he should stop this or let it go on...he thinks they’re just playing but they could actually be fighting and don’t children play-fight when they’re younger anyway, or does that only apply to animals?

He’s saved, thankfully, by the call of “Ochako!” from across the playground and he looks up to see a man and a woman beckoning Ochako forward.

“I have to go,” Ochako says to Izuku regretfully. “My parents are calling me." Izuku frowns and latches onto her hand, as if that would stop her.

Toshinori stands up and checks his watch. “We should leave too, Izuku.” He smiles at Ochako, who beams back up. “It was nice to meet you, Ochako.”

He holds his hand out to Izuku, who reluctantly relinquishes his death grip on Ochako and takes it. He waves at Ochako. “See you later.”

Ochako squeezes him in a quick hug. “Bye!” She runs off to her parents, her hair bobbing behind her. Her dad lifts her up and settles her on his shoulders the moment she reaches them. Toshinori looks back down at Izuku. “Ready to go?”

Izuku nods, looking sullen at the thought of leaving. As soon as they walk out of the park, he’s already perked up again, rambling about a new topic. This one is about...turtles?

Toshinori takes off the flower crown as he listens to Izuku, prompting him to continue every now and then with a question. It's practically weightless in his pocket, but just knowing is a comfort of its own.

The emergency room is fairly quiet tonight. Toshinori’s helping his last patient—a man with long dark hair who had strolled casually in as if he weren’t beaten up, bruises and cuts covering his arms and face.

"Nothing seems to be too serious," Toshinori notes, as he bandages his arms. "Hopefully this won't take too long." His patient studies him from where he lies on the hospital bed, his eyes piercing, and Toshinori can't help but feel nervous under it.

“Listen,” the man—Aizawa Shouta—says, pushing a lock of hair out of his face. He could be rather attractive if he weren’t, well, beat up. “Let’s get this done as soon as possible. The only reason I’m here is because my friend insisted on it.”

“You would’ve gone home like this?” Toshinori looks at him, shocked. “Are you crazy?”

Aizawa smiles wryly. “I prefer the term efficient.”

“There’s nothing wrong in coming here,” Toshinori tells him. He’s had a number of patients feel as though they’re not worth the time of ER doctors. “Your health is priority.”

Aizawa scoffs. “I doubt this is going to kill me.”

Toshinori doesn’t bother arguing, and instead finishes wrapping bandages on one arm and moves to the next. Aizawa doesn’t have a concussion, which is good, but there are some pretty nasty knife cuts, one of which running under his eye. Toshinori doesn’t quite know how Aizawa can be so blank-faced when dealing with the pain. He looks bored and his eyes dart restlessly around him.

“So as a recap,” Toshinori says. “You were walking home with a friend from a bar, someone corners you, pulls a knife, and you’re first instinct is to punch him?”

“I know how to fight,” Aizawa replies, unperturbed. “I’m hardly scratched.”

Toshinori looks up from where he’s cleaning Aizawa’s bloodstained arms. “Hardly scratched, huh?” he muttered disbelievingly. “What do you do for a living, anyway?”

Aizawa eyes Toshinori, as if he has some ulterior motive for making small talk. “I’m a kindergarten teacher,” he answers and Toshinori nearly chokes.

“A kindergarten teacher?”

Aizawa lips curve upwards in what might be a smile. “I work well with kids, surprisingly,” he says. “It’s not what most would expect.”

“I have a kid in kindergarten,” Toshinori comments, in an effort to keep up conversation. “Well, I’m taking care of him for a friend. He’s a handful just by himself—I don’t think I’d be able to keep an eye on twenty.”

“It’s tough,” Aizawa admits. “And there have been a million times when I want to quit, but...I can’t bring myself to. Guess I care too much.” He frowns slightly. “It’s the blood loss that’s making me this sappy.”

“No, no, I understand,” Toshinori says quickly, not bothering to tell Aizawa he isn’t suffering from blood loss. “Being a doctor is sort of the same in caring too much. It’s a hard job and hours are tough, but helping people…” He smiles. “Well, it’s worth it.”

Aizawa holds his gaze, staring at Toshinori curiously, before looking away. “Am I ready to go?” he asks abruptly.

“Um, yes,” Toshinori says, caught off guard by the change in subject. “I just need to write up your discharge order and you’re free to go.” He stands up to grab the paperwork and pen.

“Hey.” Toshinori turns around to see Aizawa looking at him contemplatively contemplatively. He smiles, the first genuine smile that Toshinori has seen him do. “Thanks.” He holds his gaze and Toshinori ducks his head.

"Just doing my job," he murmurs, and turns away. He can still feel the heavy weight of Aizawa's stare even after he's long gone.

“So you went out for drinks with Emi without me, got beat up outside the bar, and met a hot doctor.” Yamada leans back in his chair and lets out a low whistle. “And I thought I had an interesting night!” It’s early in the morning, and Shouta had woken up to see Yamada already in his apartment and making a pot of tea. Giving him a spare key was a mistake.

“Please,” Shouta says, rubbing his temples. It’s too early to deal with this. “Don’t phrase it like that. I can’t even remember his name.”

“But he was hot, right?” Yamada asked, looking a bit too delighted about this.

“He looked sort of like a skeleton.” Shouta takes a sip of his tea. “But, yeah, sure.”

“I feel like there’s a bone joke to be made,” Yamada mutters, chewing on his lip. He thinks for a moment, before giving up. “You have a meeting with a parent today, right? What’s it about?”

“I’m meeting Midoriya Izuku’s parents.” He thinks for a moment. “Or, actually, I think I’m meeting with his guardian while his mother’s away. Anyway, it’s about him and Katsuki. This bullying isn’t getting out of hand.”

“They used to be friends, didn’t they?” Yamada sighs. “Hopefully it’ll all be resolved soon. Parent-teacher conferences take ten years off my life.”

Aizawa nods in response and sips his tea. They lapse into silence, before Yamada breaks it once more, always feeling the need to fill spaces with words.

“You think your kids are going to talk about, ah…” Yamada gestures to Shouta’s bandages. “All that?”

“I should be fine,” Shouta replies. “They’re nosy, but they also have tiny attention spans. They’ll forget about it in five seconds.”

“Hmmm.” Yamada stands up, looking over Shouta carefully, before nudging him gently with his shoulder. “Hey...take care of yourself, okay? You can’t just get into fights like these.”

Shouta shakes his head, nudging Yamada back. “I’m fine. It won't happen again.”

Yamada eyes him, clearly unconvinced, but shrugs anyway and stands up. "We better head to work," he says to Shouta. "We've got a full day ahead of ourselves!"

Shouta tries not to grimace and fails.

School is interesting as always, Aizawa thinks, as he carefully peels off tape from Sero. He had looked away for a second and the boy had somehow wrapped himself in an entire roll. He’s honestly surprised that his students hadn’t killed themselves yet, with the things they get up to.

He finishes helping Sero (who scampers off to go play with Kaminari) and turns to Ochako, who’s gathered as many blocks as she can hold in her tiny arms. “Ochako…” he warns her.

Ochako throws the blocks in the air hopefully, and her shoulders slump when the blocks come raining down.

“I told you,” Shouta says patiently, “you can’t control gravity.”

“I can!” Ochako says stubbornly and leaves to go join Tenya and Izuku again, leaving him to clean up the blocks.

As he picks them up, he thinks to himself, Do this for the kids. Who you love. Very much. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Tsuyu screwing open and jar and letting a frog escape into the classroom.

You love them, he chants to himself, as he shoves the blocks into a bin and chases after the frog. You love them you love them you love them you lo—The frog hops out of the classroom and out the door and Shouta grabs Tsuyu to prevent her from chasing after to it.

“Well,” he mutters, as it hops into Yamada’s classroom. “Not my problem anymore.” He turns and walks away, just in time to see another fight break out between Izuku and Katsuki. He had told that ER doctor he loved being a teacher but there were just those days...

30 more years until you can retire. 30. More. Years.

School’s over, and Shouta waits impatiently at his desk for Izuku’s guardian—Yagi Toshinori—to arrive for the parent-teacher conferences. Yagi Toshinori, he mulls over the name in his head. Yagi Toshinori. It strikes a chord in him, but he can’t quite remember…

The door opens and he jerks his head up, startled, and relaxes when he realizes it must be Yagi. Shouta looks at the man, taking in his golden hair and tired eyes and then he startles again because...well. Fuck.

There are things that Shouta never wants to happen to him, and having one of his students' guardians see him beat up and slightly drunk was definitely one of them.

He forces a smile on his face, stands up, and extends his hand out, because he’s an adult and he’s professional, and he doubts Yagi would want the entire meeting to just be Shouta gaping up at him.

“A pleasure to see you again,” Yagi says as he shakes his hand. He smiles a sunshine-y smile as he sits down.

“We’re here to talk about Midoriya Izuku and his friend, Bakugou Katsuki,” Shouta says, straight to business.

Yagi smiles at him again and Shouta can feel the words stutter and die in his throat.

Yeah. Fuck.

Chapter Text

Aizawa Shouta is a remarkably different person when he’s not bleeding on a bed in the emergency room.

“We’re here to talk about Midoriya Izuku and his friend, Bakugou Katsuki,” Aizawa says briskly, straightforward and to the point. He doesn’t bother to greet Toshinori or mention the previous night which is fine, it really is.

Aizawa pauses, looking at Toshinori carefully. “I assume you don’t know about them, seeing as you just starting taking care of Izuku?”

Toshinori racks his brain for a name, dimly remembering Izuku mentioning a “Kacchan”. “I don’t know much about their friendship at all,” he admits. “But Izuku seems to look up to young Bakugou quite a bit.”

“He does.” Aizawa sighs. “A bit too much. Katsuki bullies Izuku constantly and Izuku just takes it. He even sympathizes Katsuki at times. Which, of course, leads to Katsuki snapping at him even more.” Aizawa rubs his eyes, looking increasingly more tired by the moment. “I want to keep Izuku out of this as much as possible, so I don’t think it’s necessary to talk to him about this. I am having Katsuki’s parents talk to him, and I will be keeping an eye out on the two in class. I trust you’ll do the same at home.” It’s not a request—it’s an order and Aizawa eyes Toshinori, as if daring him to refuse.

It’s not like Toshinori would refuse anyway, and he nods. “I’ll keep an eye out,” he promises. “I had no idea about any of this.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Aizawa replies. If he’s trying to be reassuring, he’s failing miserably. “Well…” Aizawa pauses as if he wants to say something and Toshinori waits a bit too eagerly. Aizawa cuts himself off and waves a dismissive hand. “That’s all,” he says. "I just wanted you to be aware of what was happening."

“I—” He shouldn’t be disappointed, really, he knows that not everyone is as outgoing as he is and whatever blossoming friendship he thought they had is...not there. And yet...he’s still disappointed. He musters a smile. “Thank you for your time.”

Aizawa nods, gaze already dipping to his paper and doesn’t respond. Toshinori stares at him for a good five seconds before slowly standing up and slipping out the door.

Once out of the room, he leans against the door and tries to collect his thoughts. Is this what it’s like to be a parent? God, he doesn’t need this stress.

“Yagi!” The sound of an oh-so familiar voice snaps him out of his thoughts and he turns to see a familiar face running towards him.

“Yamada!” Toshinori waves. “I forgot you worked here.”

Yamada claps him on his shoulder. “What are you doing here?” He snaps his fingers before Toshinori could respond. “That’s right! You met with Aizawa today.”

Toshinori frowns. “How do you know that?”

“I’ve been friends with Aizawa since high school,” Yamada replies. “Honestly, I don’t know how you two didn’t meet sooner.”

Toshinori smiles wryly. “He doesn’t seem to particularly like me.”

Yamada laughs. “He doesn’t like anyone,” he reassures him. “Give him some time to warm up to you.” Yamada pauses for a moment, thinking. “We should go out together some time,” he suggests. “Like we used to.” Yamada was one of the first people Toshinori had met when moving to the city and Toshinori smiles, remembering the nights they spent out at bars, drinking and laughing. “I could get Aizawa to come too.”

“I would love to,” Yagi confesses. “But I don’t exactly want to be out drinking while I have Izuku to take care of.”

“Of course, of course,” Yamada agrees. “Dinner, then! You can bring Izuku, I’ll bring Aizawa. I’ll text you the details.”

“I—” Toshinori starts, trying to get a word in edgewise.

“I’ll see you at six tomorrow!” Yamada says, already walking away. “Don’t be late!”

“Okay,” Toshinori says to himself as he watches Yamada leave. “I guess I’ll do that then.”

“No,” Shouta says immediately.

“Please?” Yamada begs him.

“No,” Shouta repeats. “I’m not going out to eat with one of my students. Or the ER doctor who treated me. I’m going to stay at home with a nice book alone.”

Yamada gives him one of his disapproving looks, the one that clearly conveys what a pathetic mess Shouta is. “You’re coming,” he says firmly. “I already told Yagi you are.”

Shouta grits his teeth and resists the urge to bang his head against the deck. “Fine,” he spits out. “I’ll go. Just because I don’t want to seem like an asshole in front of a student.”

“That’s the spirit!” Yamada thumps him on the back. “I’ve always wanted to set you up with someone.”

“What,” Shouta says quietly, “does that mean?”

“You need some love in your life!” Yamada spreads his hands. “You told me you liked him when you saw him in the emergency room, right?”

“I thought I’d never see him again,” Shouta hisses, “so it didn’t seem to matter. I’m not going to date anyone. I’m perfectly happy single.”

“I know you, Shouta,” Yamada replies. “You’re lonely. I am perfectly happy single. Kayama is perfectly happy single. You are miserable.”

“I have work to do,” Shouta says stiffly.

“I won’t push it,” Yamada concedes, stepping back, “but...keep an open mind? For me?”

“Fine,” Shouta mutters.

“Perfect.” Yamada claps his hands. “Six o’clock. Don’t be late! I only want what’s best for you!”

Shouta rolls his eyes. “Looking forward to it,” he mutters.

The restaurant Yamada had picked out is the one the two frequented often. It’s close by to the school, and many of the teachers meet up there to rant about their students. And now he’s going to have dinner with one of them. Izuku’s lucky he’s so adorable.

He spots Yagi and Izuku approach the restaurant the same time he does, Yagi tall and lanky, holding Izuku's hand. Yagi looks up and meets Aizawa's eye and waves.

“Aizawa-sensei!” Izuku runs at Shouta and hugs his legs.

“Hello, Izuku,” Shouta says, ruffling his hair. He looks up and his eyes meet Yagi’s. “Yagi,” he says, nodding once.

Yagi smiles in greeting. “Izuku told me a lot about you,” he says with a laugh.

“All good things, I hope?” Shouta asks wryly, glancing down at Izuku.

“Well, he did say your bandages came from fighting a supervillain,” Yagi says and Shouta rolls his eyes.

“Well, I had to tell them something,” Shouta replies. “They believed me, surprisingly.”

“What?” Izuku asks and Shouta smoothly says, “I was just telling Yagi about the supervillain I had to fight.”

Izuku nods seriously. “Isn’t Aizawa-sensei so cool?” he asks Yagi and Yagi nods.

“The coolest,” he agrees, moving to open the doors of the restaurant. “Is Yamada already here?”

“I think so,” Shouta says, scanning the restaurant. An ear-piercing scream of “SHOUTA!” comes from a corner and he looks to see Yamada waving frantically at him. “There he is,” Shouta mutters.

They walk over to him and Shouta aims a glare at Yamada because he looks a bit too delighted at seeing them all together. “I’m glad you could make it Yagi!” he says with a grin, beckoning them to sit down. “And you brought Izuku too!” He juts a thumb at Shouta. “I brought my six-year old too!”

“Very funny,” Shouta says dryly, sitting down in the seat next to Yamada.

Izuku clambers to sit next to Yagi and looks brightly at Yamada. “Hi, Yamada-sensei!” he chirps.

“Hello, Izuku,” Yamada says to him with a smile. It’s physically impossible not to smile at Izuku. He’s the living incarnate of all things pure in this godforsaken world. (And, no, Shouta does not play favorites, he’s just stating the facts.)

“I don’t know why we haven’t met before,” Yagi says to Shouta, after they’ve ordered and Izuku is coloring with crayons and paper the restaurant provided. “It seems you and Yamada are extremely close.”

“We’ve been friends since highschool!” Yamada grins at Shouta. “I have so much blackmail material on him.”

Oh god, Shouta thinks, remembering his sixteen year old self. “So how long have you known each other?” he asks, desperate to steer the conversation away from high school.

Yagi and Yamada exchange a glance and shrug. “A few years now?” Yamada guesses. “Yagi’s terrible at keeping in contact..”

Yagi smiles weakly at that. “I’ve been busy.” Shouta narrows his eyes at that, but he doesn’t bother to question him.

“When he first asked me to take care of a kid, I thought Yagi had gotten married without telling me!” Yamada laughs. “Although babysitting Izuku is much better than anything I could’ve hoped for.”

Yagi looks fondly at Izuku. “I don’t know anything about kids,” he admits, “but I’m glad Inko asked me to take care of Izuku.” It’s sickeningly adorable, the way he talks about Izuku.

“It must be hard,” Shouta comments, “juggling work and all that.”

“It is,” Yagi says. “But I think I got a bit desperate for change.”

Shouta looks at Yagi in the eye for the first time that evening. “I get that,” he replies. “Maybe a bit too well.”

Yamada elbows him. “Is this your way of flirting?” he whispers and Shouta elbows Yamada back harder.

Their food arrives, which saves Shouta from further questioning from Yamada. Izuku’s eyes widen at the sight of a bowl of katsudon the size of his face in front of him.

“How are you managing Izuku and the ER?” Yamada asks Yagi worriedly. “I can help more if you want?”

“I’ll tell you if I need anything,” Yagi promises him. “Since my shifts keep changing times, unfortunately there’s no real way to predict anything.” He sighs. “It’s certainly difficult, but I can manage.”

Izuku tugs on Yagi's sleeve to steer his attention away from the conversation and proudly holds up his drawing. “It’s All Might!”

“...All Might?” Yagi repeats.

“It’s a superhero he made up,” Shouta mutters to him, recognizing the drawing from school. To Izuku, he says encouragingly, “It looks great, Izuku.”

“Wonderful coloring,” Yagi adds, eyeing the mess of red, blue, and yellow.

Izuku beams, clearly soaking up the praise. “It’s based on you!” he says to Yagi. “‘Cause he’s always happy and smiling and saving people’s lives! Like you do!”

Yagi reaches over and ruffles his hair. “Thank you, Izuku,” he says softly. “I love it.” Maybe someone else would’ve brushed it off or given a half-hearted compliment, but Yagi looks genuinely touched. “I’ll hang it up on the fridge, okay?”

Izuku looks satisfied at that, as if the fridge equals some art museum, and Yamada laughs. “He’s a cute kid,” he says. “Shame I didn’t get him in my class.”

“Still a handful to take care of,” Shouta replies, but his eyes are fixed on Yagi and Izuku talking to one another. Yagi’s eyes glow with pride.

He can imagine this being a regular occurrence—meeting up with Yamada, Yagi, and Izuku, eating dinner together and watching Izuku draw.

It scares him, how badly he wants this.

After dinner, Yamada insists on paying the check (he and Yagi share an incredulous look at that—Yamada’s notorious for leaving the other to pay for his meal) and Shouta stands up, trying to convince himself he’s glad this is over.

“Hey.” Shouta looks up to see Yagi walking over to him. “Can I give you my number? You can keep me up to date on Izuku.” He gives another of his sunshine-infused smile. “Or if you just want to talk.”

“Sure,” Shouta says, before he can stop himself. Yagi scribbles his number down on a piece of paper and hands it to him.

“Thanks for dinner,” he says, grabbing Izuku’s hand before he can run out the door alone. “I’ll see you later.” It sounds more like a question than anything.

Shouta doesn’t respond, but Yamada nods enthusiastically. “We’ll meet up again! See you later, Yagi, Izuku.”

After they leave, Yamada turns to Shouta. “He gave you his number,” he says.

“He did.” Shouta raises an eyebrow. “I don’t see where you’re getting at.”

“You, my friend,” Yamada says, shaking his head, “are hopeless.”

It’s 12 pm and he’s just finished lunch when his phone rings. He jumps at the sound of it (his ringtone is still his voice repeatedly saying A phone call is here!—an inside joke with a few of his friends) and picks it up. The caller id is unrecognizable. “Hello?” he says. “This is Yagi Toshinori.”

“It’s Aizawa Shouta.” Aizawa’s voice crackles through the phone. “I assume your offer to talk is still available?”

“Always,” Toshinori replies, unable to fight down a smile. Getting giddy over phone calls was for his high school days. “How’s Izuku doing?”

“He’s doing fine,” Aizawa says. “So far no incidents with him and Katsuki, but earlier today, one of my other students Shouto declared war on him, so. There’s that.”

“Declared war on him,” Toshinori repeats. “What does that even mean?”

“I think he took the blue crayon Shouto wanted,” Aizawa says tiredly. “It’s always something new here. Just today, I—” Aizawa breaks off abruptly and Toshinori frowns worriedly, before he can hear Aizawa’s voice again, but fainter.

“Hitoshi, can you let go of my arm, please? You should go play with your classmates, I think you’ll...oh, shh don’t cry, it’s okay. You can stay with me.” Aizawa sighs and says to Toshinori, “Sorry about that. One of Yamada’s students is latched to my arm currently.”

“Right now?”

“Right now,” Aizawa confirms. “He’s wants to be in my class so he makes up for it by visiting me during recess.”

“You’re like a child magnet,” Toshinori comments.

“Unfortunately,” Aizawa mutters, but there’s no bite to his words. “I don’t understand why they gravitate to me instead of someone like Yamada.”

"You're a good teacher," Toshinori says easily. "Izuku adores you."

"He's a good kid," Aizawa agrees. "I'm lucky to be his teacher." A pause. Toshinori can hear the distant sound of a bell. “I have to go now." He sounds regretful. “Don't want a hoard of small children to swarm me.”

“I’ll see you later then,” Toshinori replies, then bites his lip. Would Aizawa even want to talk to him again?

But Aizawa doesn’t notice his internal crisis, because he simply says, “See you later,” smoothly and hangs up, leaving Toshinori staring at his phone in his hands.

See you later. He shouldn’t be affected by those words at all, but that doesn’t stop him from grinning like a fool.

Chapter Text

Every time he treats a child in the emergency room, Toshinori's heart breaks a little. It's not fair, he thinks, that they have to experience pain this young.

“He was burned?” he addresses the father, Todoroki Enji.

“With boiling water,” Enji says, holding a cloth over his son, Shouto's, eye. Shouto's gaze snap away from Toshinori’s as he approaches and his fingers tighten over the hospital gown.

Toshinori carefully removes the cloth to take a look at the burn. Shouto’s lip quivers, but he doesn’t cry. A second degree thermal burn, he thinks to himself. His eye doesn’t seem damaged, which is good, but the skin around it is raw and red.

He bandages the skin gently, careful not to hurt Shouto. “It was boiling water?” he clarifies, once the bandage is done. Shouto looks tired, almost nodding off a few times, but jolts himself awake (each time looking fearfully at his father). “How did that happen?”

“It was an accident,” Enji says vaguely and Toshinori bites his lip, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get a word out of him.

“You’ll need to change his bandage every day,” Toshinori instructs. He hands Enji a slip of paper. “I’ve prescribed painkillers and antibiotics as well.”

“Thank you,” Enji says curtly, resting a hand on Shouto. Shouto flinches and ducks his head.

Toshinori hesitates. “Forgive me if this is out of line,” he says, “but does Shouto go to U.A elementary?”

“He does,” Enji says carefully, as if Toshinori would use that knowledge to destroy the world or something. “Why do you ask?”

“My, ah, my kid goes to school with him,” Toshinori replies. “Midoriya Izuku?” Shouto lifts his head at the sound of Izuku’s name. “I just thought the name sounded familiar.”

“I see,” Enji replies, sounding uninterested. “Are we set to go?”

Toshinori hands him the discharge order. “Please try to be more careful next time,” he says. “Shouto’s lucky that his eye wasn’t hurt.”

“We will be,” Enji says, curt and concise, and Toshinori knows the conversation. Enji steers Shouto out of the room and Toshinori watches as they leave, and a hundred and one questions bubble up inside him.

Shouto comes into school with a bandage over his eye.

Shouta doesn’t know what to think. He’s quiet the entire day—the kid’s quiet normally, but today...he doesn’t speak to anyone. Not even to Momo or Izuku. Not even when Katsuki makes fun of his drawing. (Katsuki, for that matter, seems to have gotten only a bit better since Shouta had talked to him. There haven’t been anymore blocks thrown at Izuku, thankfully.)

It worries the heck out of Shouta and the fact that he has no idea what to do scares him even more.

“Shouto,” he murmurs, placing a hand on his shoulder. Shouto jumps and looks at him, scared for a second, before relaxing at the sight of Shouta’s face. “I like your building,” Shouta says gently. “It’s very cool.”

The barest hint of a smile flickers on Shouto’s face. “Thank you,” he says quietly. He stacks another block on top of an already teetering tower.

“What happened to your eye?” Shouta crouches down next to him. “Are you okay?”

“‘M fine,” Shouto murmurs. “I was just...I…” He swallows. “I was playing around with—with boiling water and I spilled it on myself.”

“You spilled it on yourself,” Shouta repeats. It’s a lie, he’s used to deciphering them by now. He just doesn’t understand why.

“Shouto!” Shouta turns at Izuku’s voice and he sees Izuku waving a block at him. “Can I build with you too?”

Shouto looks surprised at the invitation and glances back to Shouta for help. A week ago, the two had gotten into a fight about a blue crayon, leading Shouto to declare war on Izuku, Izuku to complain that Shouto was the worst at coloring and lots and lots of crying. Shouta nods at him encouragingly.

“Okay,” Shouto says quietly. He hesitantly hands Izuku another block, who takes it delightedly. Izuku makes no comment about Shouto’s bandage, which Shouta can’t help be thankful about.

He leaves the two to it and slowly stands up and walks away. He ends up walking towards his desk and grabbing his phone, contemplating it. Texting during work is incredibly unprofessional, but he feels the need to talk to someone (wants to talk to Yagi, but he’ll never admit it). He sighs and sets it down. There’ll be time for socializing later.

He settles back and watches Izuku and Shouto chatter with each other, with the vague sense that something very wrong had happened.

After a grueling math lesson (adding and subtraction is the bane of any kid’s existence), he watches as his students file out the door. Izuku and Shouto, having seemingly made up, are still talking.

“I saw your dad at the emergency room,” Shouto was saying. “He gave me this!” He points to his bandage.

“Yagi’s not my dad.” Izuku laughs. “But your bandage looks so cool! Like a pirate!”

Shouta watches Shouto beam at the compliment and frowns. The emergency room? He drums his fingers on his desk worriedly.

He’s about to leave for the day, when there’s a knock on his door. “Come on in,” he said, assuming it’s Yamada. “No need to knock.”

Instead of Yamada, however, it’s the principal who walks in, with a somber looking expresssion on his face. “Hello, Aizawa,” he says.

Principal Nedzu. “What are you doing here?” Shouta says, too surprised to be polite.

Nedzu gestures for him to sit down, which he does, albeit reluctantly. Nedzu hesitates, looking unsure of what to say. “I received a call from child services,” he says slowly, “about Todoroki Shouto.”

Shouta sits up straight, that mounding worry only building up more and more, making him feel sick. “What about him?” he says carefully.

Nedzu hesitates again.

“What happened?” Shouta stands up. “Nedzu, what happened?”

“His mother was taken away,” Nedzu replies. “Apparently she flung boiling water in her son’s face. She’s been admitted to a psychiatric ward.”

Shouta falls back onto his chair, staring at Nedzu. “I remember talking to his mother,” he murmurs. “She was so proud of her son—kept asking me to tell her every single detail about him.” He shakes his head. “I can’t imagine her doing that. I can’t imagine Shouto having to go through that.”

“I need you to make Shouto feel safe here,” Nedzu stresses. “Encourage him to express his feelings, help him cope with this.”

Shouta swallows, looking over to where Shouto sits everyday. “Of course,” he whispers.

Nedzu smiles at him comfortingly. “Please come to me for any questions,” he says. He pauses, like he wants to say more, but instead: “I'll leave you to pack up for the day.”

Shouta nods. “Thank you for telling me,” he says quietly. The door swings shut and Shouta fumbles for his bag and grabs his coat before switching off the lights and leaving the classroom.

Yamada is waiting outside his own classroom and he looks up at the sight of him. “Hey, Aizawa,” he greets him as they start to walk towards the school’s exit together. He looks sideways at Shouta. “What was that all about?”

Shouta hesitates, not knowing whether or not to tell Yamada, but he feels the need to tell someone, so he replies, “Todoroki Shouto.” He stops, before continuing, “His mother...his mother hurt him and was taken away by child services.”

Yamada’s eyes widen. “Oh, god." He sounds horrified. “That’s awful.” He looks down. “Poor Shouto,” he says softly. “How was he today?”

“Quiet,” Shouta replies. “But he’s always quiet. Playing with Izuku seemed to have helped him a little.”

“That’s good,” Yamada says. “I’m glad he’s made a friend.” He laughs quietly. “And knowing Izuku, he’ll do anything in his power to help.”

“He will,” Shouta agrees. Izuku will be good for Shouto, he thinks. Izuku had a knack for helping, although in some cases (read: Katsuki) it tended to backfire. “I wish I could do more,” he mutters, “but I suppose the best thing to do would make school as normal as possible.” He rubs his eyes. Today, he decides, has been way too long.

They walk down the now-empty halls of the school together, and Shouta is suddenly reminded of their high school days. Stepping out of the school, he’s met with rain and he squints up at it, annoyed.

“Just great,” he grits.

“Summer’s finally gone, huh?” Yamada comments. “That’s why I hate the start of the second term.” He takes out sunglasses from his pocket and places them on as they walk to the subway station.

“Why are you wearing sunglasses?” Shouta says, staring at him with mild disgust. “The sky is grey.”

“It’s for the aesthetic,” Yamada tells him patiently, with a lopsided grin. “Gotta look good no matter what.”

“Right,” Shouta says skeptically. “Aesthetic.”

“Hey,” Yamada says as they enter the station. “Just admit that I’m gorgeous.”

Shouta doesn’t dignify that with a response and Yamada simply laughs. The mood’s a bit lighter now. They board the subway together—this is routine for them by now, since they live in the same apartment building.

The subway ride home is as uneventful as always. The rain is still coming down, but slower than before. Shouta watches as a drop of rain rolls down the window as he drums his fingers restlessly.

Yamada pops in his earbuds and starts singing along to the music softly. Shouta can’t bring himself to be annoyed because it’s a distraction (an annoying one at that, but nevertheless a distraction) and stops his mind from circling around his students and the pit of worry in his stomach.

They enter their apartment together. Yamada lives exactly one floor above his, which means he wakes Shouta up at three in the morning with the sound of dancing.

“I’ll see you later, Shouta,” Yamada says, as he always does when they part ways. He pauses and looks at Shouta carefully. “And, uh, try to get some sleep tonight, okay?”

“No promises,” Shouta mutters and Yamada twists his mouth, looking concerned and disappointed all at once. He bumps Shouta’s shoulder anyway and offers him a grin, before walking over towards the elevator.

He worries too much, Shouta thinks.

The halls of the apartment complex are quiet except for a slight murmur of voices coming from every few doors. He jams the key into his door’s lock and jiggles it when it sticks. He opens the door to the dark apartment and kicks off his shoes in a corner. Flipping on the lights doesn’t make it seem any less desolate.

Shouta sighs and tosses his bag and soaked coat onto the couch. Dinner’s a problem he’ll tackle for later. For now, he’s just tired.

The rain has stopped now, so he steps out onto the balcony and refills a small bowl of cat food. The apartment he lives in doesn’t allow any cats (it’s outrageous, really), so he settles by feeding the strays that roam by his apartment. He’s memorized everyone of them by now, and given them each a name, although he’d never admit it to Yamada.

A cat wanders there now, a fluffy yellow one with bright blue eyes. It rubs its head against Shouta’s legs—this one is particularly friendly one, he remembers—and Shouta leans down to scritch its head. "Hey, there." He wants to talk to someone, anyone but he doesn't...he doesn't know why. Maybe it's just the stress of today.

He watches as the cat darts away after eating and stares out over the balcony long after it’s gone. Usually, he enjoys silence, but right now…

Right now, it’s a bit too quiet.

It starts raining when Toshinori picks Izuku up. The drops thud heavily against the car roof and he frowns out at the dreary weather. Focusing his attention on Izuku sitting in the backseat, he asks, “How was school?”

“It was okay,” Izuku replies as he traces the raindrops that slide down the window He looks tired and Toshinori can relate. His shift was during the morning, leaving him still drained in the afternoon. "I made a new friend, Shouto," Izuku adds.

"Did you?" Toshinori asks him. "That's good." He wants to ask about how Shouto was today (that burn must be painful), but he settles for saying, "We should invite him over sometime. Along with Ochako and Tenya."

Izuku nods eagerly. "That would be fun!" he says excitedly. "We could also invite Kacchan and Eijirou and Tsuyu and Momo and..."

Toshinori smiles as Izuku begins to list off every classmate he has. Maybe they could do a party, he muses. He could ask Aizawa for help. (Or maybe he just wants to talk to Aizawa. The technicalities aren't important.)

At home, he helps Izuku unpack his bag and Izuku runs off to do homework—a sheet of paper that involves coloring, maybe?—while Toshinori starts on dinner.

He opens the fridge and decides on just heating up leftovers, too tired to do anything more, so he sets on simply making fresh rice. Inko calls halfway through, her voice warm when she asks about Izuku.

“So how is he?” she says. “Is he behaving well?”

“He’s doing fine,” Toshinori replies, gaze slipping to Izuku who had finished his homework and is playing in the living room. “He’s adapted to my schedule now and school is going smoothly.” He leaves the rice to the rice cooker and sits down on the couch, watching as Izuku attacks himself with his own stuffed animal.

“Good, good,” Inko says, sounding more tired than ever. “Is everything all right with him and Katsuki?”

“I haven’t heard anything yet,” Toshinori replies. “But Izuku did make a new friend. Todoroki Shouto?”

“Shouto?” Inko says. “He’s a good kid. His father though…” There’s a silence. “I don’t know about him,” Inko finally says. “Shouto seems...scared of him.”

“I got that vibe too,” Toshinori murmurs. He decides not to tell her about Shouto’s burn—that’d be one more thing for her to worry about. “How are you doing?”

“I’m all right,” Inko answers. “A little homesick, though.” She laughs. “Izuku sounds happy, so I’m happy. I’m glad I chose you to take care of him.”

“Honestly,” Toshinori says, “I think he’s helping me more than I’m helping him.”

“Izuku does love to help,” Inko agrees. “It was good talking to you. Keep me updated?”

“Of course,” Toshinori promises. “Bye, Inko.”

She hangs up and Toshinori sets his phone down. Izuku, noticing Toshinori has finished talking, runs over and climbs up on the couch. Toshinori switches on the TV to a channel he knows Izuku likes with colorful cartoon characters and Izuku bounces up and down excitedly.

Izuku’s head ends up lolling onto Toshinori's shoulde, so he picks up a book and reads to pass time. The TV dissolves into background noise, Izuku talks to the characters on screen every once in a while, the rice cooker beeps, and his apartment isn’t as quiet as it was before.