Work Text:
Hizashi frowned hard at his reflection in the common room mirror. His hair wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary but today wasn’t the day for “ordinary”. He sighed, fluffing it out of shape and then back in, hoping that would make it stop annoying him. It didn’t.
“I’m gonna shave my head,” he groused under his breath.
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Nemuri replied from one of the nearby armchairs. “It’ll make your forehead look big. Well, bigger .”
Hizashi scowled at her through the mirror. “You always know just what to say,” he replied flatly. Nemuri blew him a kiss.
“Seriously, though, you look fine. Aizawa already thinks you’re a total cutie, you don’t have to try so hard,” she said.
Hizashi felt his face going red for the thousandth time that morning. As much as Nemuri seemed to think he and Aizawa were some kind of sure thing, the anxiety-riddled basilisk squirming in his gut had other opinions. If Aizawa was just some random good samaritan Hufflepuff he’d met a week ago, he could have shaken off his jitters and still had a great day in the village whether they ended up clicking with one another or not.
But Shouta Aizawa wasn’t just a Hufflepuff, he was the Hufflepuff. He had been ever since he’d glanced across the table during a blended Potions class their third year, diagnosed Hizashi’s disastrous mixture as being the result of the nettle extract not emulsifying, and suggested he mix both clockwise and counterclockwise to make it come together before returning to his own work without another word. That had been the first time in three years of Potions lessons that Hizashi’s sample had come out right without at least a half dozen revisions, and like a song from a genre you never thought you’d like, Aizawa had been stuck in Hizashi’s head ever since. Hizashi had tried to thank him for it a thousand times, but could never manage to tamp down the nauseous mix of intimidation and infatuation that bubbled up in his stomach the moment the two of them made eye contact. Not until Aizawa had risked literal life and limb to rescue Hizashi from his own inattentiveness and the infatuation momentarily won control of his tongue, anyway.
“Oi, Yamada.” Nemuri snapped her fingers in front of his nose, jogging him out of his thoughts. Hizashi blinked and looked over at her.
“Sorry, yeah, what?” he said. Nemuri gave him a sympathetic smile despite her raised eyebrow and took his face in her hands.
“Look me in the eye and listen close, okay? This boy is crazy about you. He jumped out of the stands to save you from a nerfed Bludger during a school-sanctioned Quidditch match. He wants. To smooch. Your face,” Nemuri said, squishing his cheeks to punctuate.
The thought of not just hanging out with but kissing Aizawa hadn’t occured to Hizashi until now, and it sent a whole new sharp flip through the pit of his stomach. His face burned and prickled like it was trying to flush and grow pale at the same time. “I think I’m gonna barf. Thanks, Nems,” Hizashi said weakly.
“Hey, it worked for him, didn’t it?” Nemuri pointed out, standing on tiptoe to give him a peck on the forehead. “Now stop stalling and go get your man.” She took him by the shoulders and turned him towards the door, giving him an encouraging swat on the backside to get him moving. Hizashi took a deep breath, squared his shoulders as best he could despite his whole body feeling like it was going to shake apart, and forced himself to start walking.
Aizawa was already waiting for him on one of the courtyard benches. Hizashi felt a little overdressed in the skinny jeans, concert teeshirt, and sleek leather jacket he had pestered Nemuri into helping him pick out as he took in the scuffed cuffs of Aizawa’s faded black jeans and the well-worn thumb holes in the sleeves of his hoodie. Aizawa looked like he’d rolled out of bed looking effortlessly cool and casual, slouched forward with his free elbow on his knee and his attention buried in a paperback novel he’d folded in half so that he could read it one-handed. Hizashi swallowed hard, his throat dry and his palms starting to sweat.
C’mon, Yamada, this is no time to be gutless , he reminded himself sternly. “Hey!” he called to Aizawa. It came out louder than he had really intended, echoing in the mostly-empty courtyard. As with everything, though, Aizawa took the noisy greeting in stride. He looked up from his book, shaking hair out of his face, and unfolded himself from the bench as Hizashi strode over.
“Morning,” Aizawa replied with a nod.
“Sorry if you were waiting long,” Hizashi said with an awkward laugh. “I was, ah. Um. Sorry.”
Aizawa shrugged. “I don’t mind,” he said, holding up his book as evidence before stuffing it into his back pocket. “I think most people already went on ahead,” he added. “We should get going before the pub gets too crowded.”
“Sure, yeah,” Hizashi agreed.
Neither of them spoke much on the way down to the village. The short walk seemed to grow longer and longer the more Hizashi tried to think of ways to fill it. He wished he’d spent less time picking Nemuri’s brain about what he should wear and more about what people actually did on dates. His brief middle school romance with her in his second year followed by several years of long-distance crushing on someone he had been too terrified to speak to had left him severely underprepared. He was pretty sure holding hands was a thing, but was it a first date thing? Maybe not this soon after meeting up with the other person. Conversation was the most obvious answer but a vast chasm of blank nothing opened in his brain the moment Hizashi tried to think of something to say.
“You like the Weird Sisters?” The question silenced the panicked claxons going off in Hizashi’s brain instantly. “Your shirt,” Aizawa went on when Hizashi just stared at him without answering. Hizashi reflexively glanced down like he’d somehow forgotten what he was wearing, then nodded with a sheepish grin.
“Yeah, they’re cool,” he said. “My sister Haruko was super into them when we were kids and it kind of rubbed off on me. We went to their show in London last summer for her birthday, that’s where I got this,” he added, tugging at the hem of his shirt. “How ‘bout you?”
Aizawa nodded. “They’re one of my favorite bands,” he said.
“Really?” Hizashi asked, secretly thrilled that they’d already found something to agree on.
“Yeah. I’ve never gotten to see them live, though. Kinda jealous.” Aizawa flashed a sliver of a smirk that made Hizashi’s heart seize hard in his chest.
“We should go together sometime!” Hizashi blurted out before he could stop himself. He flushed as a few people ahead of them glanced back to see what all the noise was about. Aizawa, though, grinned again and shrugged his uninjured shoulder.
“Yeah, maybe,” he half-agreed. His face was mostly hidden behind his hair, but Hizashi could have sworn he was blushing too.
As predicted, the main room of The Three Broomsticks was packed with students and staff getting in one last relaxed moment before the end-of-year exam crunch began. The two of them put in their orders at the bar, then sought out one of the last remaining open tables.
“I’ve never seen so many people trying not to make eye contact at one time before,” Aizawa commented as he looked around the pub. Hizashi laughed.
“It’s like avoiding the T-Rex in Jurassic Park,” he joked. “If nobody moves, the students can’t beg for extra credit and the profs can’t remind you about your career counselling appointments.”
“Terrifying,” Aizawa said dryly.
“It is for me,” Hizashi admitted with a laugh. “I’m pretty sure Torino’s going to run me down the next time I tell him I still don’t know what I want to do after graduation.”
As if to prove his point there came a badly-muffled snicker from a couple tables away. Hizashi glanced over to see Professors Torino and Shimura along with Shimura’s TA Toshinori Yagi commiserating over drinks and stacks of grading. All three waved, Torino with a somewhat more meaningful smile than the other two. Hizashi felt himself flush and gave a vague flail of his hand in return before quickly looking away.
“See?” he said, turning back to Aizawa. Aizawa gave a kind of “well, when you put it that way” half-nod, half-shrug.
“I assumed you were going to be a professional Seeker somewhere,” Aizawa said. “Slytherin’s been unbeatable ever since you joined the team. With your talent you could easily get scouted for at least a semi-pro league right out of school.”
He said it without any hint of flattery or exaggeration in his voice, like it was simply an immutable, commonly known fact; water was wet, the sky was blue, and as far as Aizawa was concerned Hizashi had what it took to be a pro Seeker. Hizashi tried to cover the flustered catch in his throat by grinning and miming flipping his hair over his shoulder.
“Well, obviously ,” he joked. “But...I dunno. I think if I’m gonna to do something for the rest of my life it should be something I’m gonna have fun doing, y’know? And the most fun part about playing Quidditch is getting to hang out and play with Nemuri and the others,” he said. “If I can figure out a way to group all of my friends together into a new league for just us I might consider it, but it doesn’t look like that’ll happen anytime soon.” Hizashi laughed apologetically, suddenly worried he might be straying too far into “Oversharing My Insecurities” territory for this early in the day. He was saved the additional discomfort of backpedaling by their lunch arriving. Looking at food made his stomach double-knot but he tried his best to not show it.
“How about you? What do you want to do after you’re out of school?” Hizashi asked, dumping too much ketchup on his fries as an alternative to eating them.
Aizawa shrugged and shook his head. “I don’t really know either,” he admitted with a slightly grudging tone to his voice. “Shirakumo keeps telling me I should become a teacher, but I’m not sure.”
“Oh yeah? I think you’d be good at it,” Hizashi said, thoughts of a solemn-eyed thirteen-year-old saving him from certain disaster drifting through his head. “You’re one of the top brains in the year and you’ve definitely got the guts for it. My sister Hinako’s studying to be a linguistics instructor and she always says all you need to be a good teacher is a high tolerance for bullshit and enough raw nerve to tell someone to fuck off without stammering.”
To Hizashi’s surprise and delight Aizawa let out a sharp bark of laughter at that, clapping his hand over his mouth to muffle it a split second later. Hizashi beamed, a swell of pride growing in his chest at getting Aizawa to break character, even momentarily. “I thought you said your sister’s name was Haruko,” Aizawa said, clearing his throat around another laugh.
“Other sister,” Hizashi clarified. “Haru and Hinako are the older twins, they graduated two years ago. My brother Hiro and my sibling Hoshi are the younger twins, they’ll be ten in August.”
Aizawa stared at him, dumbfounded. “You have four siblings?” he asked with the kind of wonder-filled shock that picked him out instantly as an only child. Hizashi grinned.
“Yep,” Hizashi said, nodding. “Middle child of five, and the only single birth on either side of the family for, like, two or three generations back. Haru swears I ate my twin in the womb so I wouldn’t have to share a birthday.” About halfway through he had the too-late realization that the joke might not be funny outside of his family, but to his relief Aizawa let out a hard snort at it.
“Not a bad plan,” Aizawa said.
Hizashi shrugged. “It worked,” he said. “So what d’you think you’d teach if you did end up back here?” he added.
“Muggle Studies,” Aizawa said. The way he said it without any hesitation made Hizashi wonder if he was actually as reluctant about the idea as he claimed.
“That’s cool,” Hizashi said, nodding. “I took Muggle Studies as an elective third year but I ended up dropping it before fourth. It wasn’t terrible or anything, it was just kind of. Um.” He tried to think of a nice way to phrase the fact that he had maintained a perfect grade in the class while using it as an extra study hall.
“Boring?” Aizawa suggested flatly. Hizashi flushed.
“I wasn’t going to say that,” he hedged. Aizawa sighed, shaking his head.
“No, I’ve taken three years of it, I know it is,” he said. “The curriculum might be Ministry approved, but that doesn’t save it from being complete garbage. No matter who the teacher is it’s always some Pureblood, and they just stand at the front of the class acting like it’s some incredible miracle that Muggles managed to invent solutions to problems without magic to help them.”
Hizashi nodded; that sounded about right from the hazy half-forgotten memories he could dredge up.
“If they had any sense, they’d have someone who knows what they’re talking about teaching and it would be part of the core classes in first and second year. Then it would actually make sense to let you decide if you want to stick with it as an elective,” Aizawa went on. “That way the kids who don’t know anything about non-magic technology will learn alternatives for when they run into something magic can’t fix. The way it is now just ties everyone down to a single way of thinking with no alternatives until after they’re used to relying on magic for everything anyway. It’s completely illogical.” He grew more animated as he spoke, eyes bright and spots of enthusiastic color rising in his cheeks. This was the most Hizashi had ever heard Aizawa say at one time and he was enraptured by the sudden force in Aizawa’s voice. To his disappointment Aizawa seemed to realize he was getting riled up and deflated slightly, sinking back into his usual neutral holding pattern.
“But that’s just the Muggleborn in me, I guess,” he muttered.
“Nah, your plan sounds way better to me,” Hizashi said encouragingly, trying to pep him back up. “If I was gonna send my kids here, I’d be way more likely to suggest they take your class than if it stays like it is now.”
Some of the glow seemed to come back behind Aizawa’s eyes and the corner of his mouth twitched up into almost a smile. “Noted.”
Their conversation hit a short lull as they finished lunch and headed back outside to the main street, but the silence felt less disquieting now that the ice had broken. Hizashi was used to being around constant noise, growing up in a family of extroverts and living in a House where half the residents were in a constant duel of one-upsmanship with the other half. Being around Aizawa, though, was like hanging out with the human form of a comfortable silence. Bits of short conversation passed between them as they ambled, happening and ending in a breezy ebb and flow.
Aizawa stopped in at the used bookstore to trade the book he’d been reading--or rather, re-reading for the third time, as he told Hizashi--for the next in the series, which was even thicker and more battered than the last. At some curious prodding from Hizashi, Aizawa began to give a synopsis of the books up to the current volume. His energy from before returned, but in a lighter tone bordering on excitability as he explained the truly surreal level of bad luck that seemed to be constantly befalling Simon Snow and his friends. Aizawa talked like someone who held his words in as long as he could when he didn’t think it was appropriate to use them, but couldn’t help the way they spilled out when given the chance. Reserved, Hizashi thought. Not so much the taciturn, easily bored loner his reputation presupposed, just more comfortable keeping to himself when he wasn’t sure the other person was actually interested. Hizashi counted himself as fully interested despite having only a vague idea of what Aizawa was talking about. He was more than content to just walk slow circuits of Hogsmeade next to Aizawa as he monologued, sharing a bag of black licorice from Honeydukes that Hizashi had bought and offered without thinking and Aizawa (to Hizashi’s private delight) had accepted without hesitation.
The two of them perched on the fence around the Shrieking Shack, giving their feet a rest as Aizawa went on a fascinating tangent about the books’ author getting investigated on suspicion of illegal experimentation because their fictional magic system was too water-tight. Aizawa fell silent mid-sentence, blinking in surprise, and rubbed at something on his nose.
“What--” Hizashi started, but his question was answered as three large raindrops plopped down onto his face as well. “Well, crap,” he added, squinting up into the murky grey sky and getting rewarded with another drop on his forehead.
In unison the two of them hopped down off the fence and began to quickly walk back down the lane towards the row of shops. The rain picked up its pace with them, turning from a sprinkling to a drizzle to a full-bore downpour as they rushed back. Hizashi pulled his jacket up, doing his best to keep it over their heads as they scampered for shelter. A distant growl of thunder followed them as they darted past the flat front of the post office building to the sanctuary of the bookshop’s awning.
“Perfect time for the sky to open, huh?” Hizashi laughed, using the display window to try to slick his soaked hair back into a decent style. When Aizawa didn’t reply, Hizashi paused to look over at him. Aizawa wasn’t under the awning anymore; glancing around the corner into the alley between buildings Hizashi saw him crouched down prodding at something next to a trash bin. Hizashi deployed his makeshift umbrella again and hurried over to see what had caught Aizawa’s attention. Drawing level with him, Hizashi saw that Aizawa was pulling at the melting top flaps of a cardboard box, trying to keep them open as they collapsed inwards. The word “free” was just barely visible scrawled in marker on the front of the box and peering inside Hizashi could see the small trembling body of a kitten. It was hard to tell what color the poor thing was under the dirt and bits of cardboard that had fallen in and stuck to its fur. The kitten made struggling attempts to paw at Aizawa’s hand, giving off long pennywhistle yowls at the top of its voice.
“I think it’s stuck on something, but I can’t get to it,” Aizawa said over his shoulder.
Hizashi squatted down next to him to get a better look. Sure enough, he could see where the rubber band serving as the kitten’s collar had tangled in a stray thread from the tea towel that had been stuffed into the box to serve as a bed. The towel was fully soaked and melded with the bottom of the box, becoming a sodden weight around the kitten’s neck. As Aizawa reached in to help, the collapsing box and having to use his off hand made him awkward and clumsy and the kitten kept dodging away from the perceived attack from above.
“Let me try,” Hizashi said. He shrugged off his jacket and balanced it on both of their heads to free up his hands. “Easy there, tiny,” he added to the kitten in as soothing a voice as he could, slowly reaching into the box. The kitten squawked and squirmed at the indignity of being gently scruffed in one hand while Hizashi tugged the rubber band from around its neck with the other. “There. Not so bad, was it?” Hizashi asked, doing what he could to wipe some of the cardboard flecks off of its head. The kitten peeped irritably and gave a hard full-body shiver. “Let’s get somewhere drier,” Hizashi suggested.
Aizawa noded. He unzipped his sweatshirt and bundled the kitten into the pocket of fabric caused by his immobilized arm, then zipped it up again most of the way. The two of them--three now technically--made back under the bookstore’s awning just as a new wave of rain came down. Hizashi shivered as a stream of cold water ran out of his hair and down the back of his neck.
“Looks like that’s it on today,” he said, watching as the last few stragglers other than themselves fled the street for somewhere dry.
“Guess so,” Aizawa agreed. He had opened his jacket just a little again and was letting the kitten attack his finger, gnawing at his knuckle with the two stubby baby teeth it had. He gave a quiet, delighted chuckle, pulling his finger away to scratch under its chin. It was the first time Hizashi had ever seen him look truly relaxed, no hint of his usual stiff practicality as he looked down at the ball of fluff tucked into his elbow. Hizashi couldn’t help the warm glow that spread through him at seeing such a gentle smile on Aizawa’s face. Aizawa had to quickly muffle a sneeze in his shoulder as water dripped from his hair onto his nose. He tried to shake his hair back but only succeeded in sticking more strands to his cheeks in the process.
“Here,” Hizashi said, reaching out a hand to smooth Aizawa’s hair back behind his ears. Aizawa looked over at him with the same easy, soft smile still on his face.
“Thanks,” he said. Hizashi was too caught off guard and suddenly tongue-tied to reply. Instead, half on instinct and half on impulse Hizashi leaned in and kissed him.
It was brief and a little awkward from the inopportune angle he had to take to avoid leaning on Aizawa’s injured arm and the kitten, but for the moment it happened it was glorious. Hizashi pulled back, heart hammering at his own nerve. Aizawa had gone stock-still, his eyes owlishly wide and his face blank as he stared at Hizashi. He blinked once, hard, as if he was trying to process what had just happened. Then a dark flush spread through his face and his head snapped down to stare at his shoes. A cold, guilty weight dropped into the pit of Hizashi’s stomach. His mouth worked open and shut around words of apology or explanation or both that didn’t want to form. Hizashi forced his jaw shut, clearing his throat around the knot trying to form and looking back out into the rain.
“We should probably get back to the castle. It doesn’t look like it’s going to let up any time soon,” Aizawa muttered, not taking his eyes off of his sneakers.
“Y-Yeah, probably. I, uh, I think I saw them selling umbrellas inside, I’ll go check. Be right back,” Hizashi jabbered on.
He ducked past Aizawa and into the bookstore. Aizawa’s red-faced non-reaction was not at all what he’d been hoping for. In the golden high of the moment Hizashi had thought it was kind of sweeping and spontaneous, if not outright romantic, but now common sense was setting in on him with a vengeance. He grimaced, grabbing the first novelty pocket umbrella he saw on the store’s display rack and taking it up to the front to pay. He was an utter idiot, of course something like that was going too fast. They might have clicked for the most part during the day but that didn’t mean he could go around smashing his face against Aizawa’s willy-nilly. Nemuri’s assurance that Aizawa did in fact want to “smooch his face” came floating back but Hizashi shook it away. In a general sense maybe, but not now out of nowhere with no provocation. Hizashi tried to console himself that Aizawa didn’t seem to be angry with him at least, but even that fell flat. With how good the other boy was at hiding his feelings he could have been angry to the boiling point right now and Hizashi would never be able to tell. He’d have to apologize, sincerely and quickly, that was all there was to it. As soon as they got a free minute back at the castle without distractions or onlookers Hizashi would explain and apologize and hope he hadn’t utterly ruined any chance he had at least staying friends.
Aizawa hadn’t decided to leave without him, which felt encouraging; he also didn’t make eye contact as Hizashi opened the umbrella over their heads and they started walking, which felt less so. As they approached the school gates, Aizawa zipped his jacket up all the way under his chin and rested his free arm on top of the arm in the sling, his hand on the kitten’s back to keep it still and quiet. He looked calm and assured, eyes trained forward and face neutral as they passed the teachers monitoring the groups scuttling in out of the rain. No one batted an eye at them the whole way inside and down the stairs towards the dungeons.
“Smooth,” Hizashi commented under his breath. The corner of Aizawa’s mouth quirked up just slightly.
“Not my first time,” he replied in an undertone.
He led the way to one of the lower-level bathrooms and locked the door behind the two of them after confirming they were in there alone. “Can you run some water?” Aizawa asked, pointing at the row of sinks with his elbow as he scooped the shivering kitten out of its hiding place. “Just warm, not hot. There should be spare towels in the cupboard, they usually don’t run out until later in the week.”
Hizashi did as he asked, running a shallow bath of water and gently setting the kitten down into it. Aizawa hovered at his elbow, giving instructions on how to test the temperature so that it wouldn’t be too much for the kitten to handle and how to scrub the grime away from its fur without getting soap near its eyes or ears. Slowly but surely a small white tom kitten with a thick stripe of tabby orange down its back emerged from under all of the muck. Washed and dried and swaddled in a fresh hand towel, the kitten’s eyes blinked sleepily shut as Aizawa held him cradled in his elbow again.
“What’s his name gonna be?” Hizashi asked. He reached out and ruffled the tuft of fur between the kitten’s ears with the tip of one finger as he began to snore. Aizawa frowned, shaking his head.
“He’s not mine. I couldn’t leave him out there, but I don’t think my Housemates would appreciate it if I took in another stray,” Aizawa said grudgingly.
“No room for a common room cat?”
“We have three already,” Aizawa said sheepishly. “Well, two. Mikey was mine to start with.”
Hizashi grinned in spite of himself, remembering Aizawa’s comment about this not being his first smuggling operation. “If he was a little bigger we could probably just let him loose to be a mouser, but right now I’m pretty sure the mice would win,” he said.
“Whoever does take him will have to coddle him for a while,” Aizawa said. “He’s not actually old enough to be on his own, no matter what the scumbag who abandoned him thinks.”
That sparked an idea in Hizashi that made his grin grow even wider. “I think I have just the person,” he said. “Follow me.”
“Oh Nem-my,” Hizashi said in a singsong voice, leaning down over the back of the sofa Nemuri was stretched out on. Nemuri looked up from the book she’d been reading, seeming surprised to see him.
“Back already?” she asked. “I assumed you’d still be off somewhere sucking face with Aiza--”
“It started raining so we came back early,” Hizashi said quickly, trying to drown her out as his ears burned. “Not the point. I brought you a present.” He reached down and booped her on the nose.
Nemuri looked dubiously up at him. “If it’s another half-finished bag of licorice, I’m locking you out of the dorms for a week,” she replied sweetly, booping him back.
“That was one time . And joke’s on you anyway, I’ve found someone with taste,” Hizashi said. He nodded towards Aizawa. Nemuri sat up to see where he was looking. She nodded hello to Aizawa, then looked back over at Hizashi.
“Mind telling me why there’s a Hufflepuff in my common room?” she asked.
“ Because , I brought you a present,” Hizashi repeated. “Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”
A look of deep skepticism crossed her face, but Nemuri did as he asked. Hizashi took the towel-wrapped kitten from Aizawa and placed it in Nemuri’s hands, guiding her arms to her chest to make sure she was supporting the little bundle.
“All right, open them!”
Nemuri squinted open one eye, grimacing like she was bracing for impact. Her whole face lit up as she saw what had been put in her arms. “Look at you!” she said breathlessly, cradling the kitten. The kitten squeaked up at her as the sound of her voice jostled him out of his nap.
“Aizawa found him caught in the rain while we were out,” Hizashi explained. “Aizawa’s full up on cats and Ai-chan’s enough for me, but I thought since you had to leave Oni home this year you might want to look after the little guy.”
Nemuri tried to put on a begrudging, put-upon expression, but her obvious adoration leaked through around the edges. “I mean, if there’s no one else I might as well,” she said in a faux-haughty voice. “Can’t leave him on his own, can we?” Her sentence trailed off into a sweet baby-talk tone as she directed it more towards the kitten.
“He’s still too young for solid food. You’ll need to feed him soft food and bottles until his teeth come in,” Aizawa said. He pulled out the top drawer of a nearby side table and ran his wand around the edge of it, muttering a spell under his breath. He reached into the shallow drawer up to his elbow, retrieving a few small baby bottles and a canister of powdered kitten formula. He sat down next to Nemuri on the couch and talked her through all of the steps to prepare bottles and how to support the kitten while he ate. Again the cool detachment melted away as Aizawa spoke and his more passionate side peeked out. He explained everything in simple, direct instructions with the kind of calm competency and depth of knowledge that made Hizashi wonder how Aizawa could ever doubt he was meant to teach. Even Hizashi’s haughty black cat Ai-chan seemed impressed with him; she hopped up into Aizawa’s lap as he was speaking and forewent her usual first impression greeting of a sharp nip on the hand, content to accept a lengthy backscratch from him instead.
“If you have time between classes to come check on him while he settles in, it would be best,” Aizawa finished up.
“Right,” Nemuri said, nodding. “A baby’s a baby, even if it’s got four feet and a fur coat.” She smiled down at the kitten as he finished his meal and flopped down onto his full belly with a yawn.
“So, what’re you gonna call him, Nems?” Hizashi asked, relieved his plan had worked.
“Sushi,” Nemuri said instantly.
Hizashi laughed. “Big bro Onigiri will be thrilled,” he teased.
“He’ll adore him,” Nemuri agreed primly. “Now go take your Hufflepuff somewhere else so we can take a nap in peace,” she added, making a shooing motion towards the door.
“Rude. I give you a kitten and all you give me is lip.”
“Don’t make me call a hall meeting about fraternization, Hizashi Yamada.”
“Fine, fine,” Hizashi said, holding his hands up peacefully. “Sheesh. You give someone a Prefect badge and suddenly they own the place,” he added in a loud mutter, rolling his eyes dramatically.
“What was that? You’ll have to speak up, my Plebeian is rusty,” Nemuri said in a lofty voice.
“Don’t worry about it, Nems, have a good nap,” Hizashi said. “C’mon, I’ll walk you out,” he added to Aizawa, nodding towards the door.
“Nice meeting you,” Nemuri said to Aizawa as he got up to leave.
“Er. You too,” Aizawa returned with a nod.
Nemuri popped her head up over the back of the couch as Hizashi held the door open for Aizawa. She grinned at him, waggling her eyebrows meaningfully. Hizashi gave her a short, tight smile in return and flashed a weak thumbs-up before he followed Aizawa out. The common room door shut with a snap behind him, sounding louder than it needed to in the empty hall. The two of them hovered awkwardly, the last buffer between what had happened before and where they should go from here now safely tucked away behind them.
“She seems nice,” Aizawa said finally.
Hizashi gave a weak chuckle. “Nemuri can be kind of extra, but she’s cool,” he assured him. “She was pretty gutted when she had to leave her cat at home this year but he’s about ten billion years old, so she couldn’t really help it. I think she’ll be a good cat mom for that little guy.”
“Yeah, I think so too,” Aizawa said.
A second silence stretched on longer than the first, as if they were both waiting for the other one to take the next step. Aizawa cleared his throat and seemed to be about to excuse himself. Hizashi forced himself to speak before Aizawa left.
“H-Hey, um. About before,” he blurted out. Aizawa hesitated, his expression guarded. “When...When I kissed you. I just wanted to say I’m sorry?” Hizashi said, hating the way his voice cracked upward at the end. “It’s just. Today’s been so great and I’d never seen you look so happy like that before and I guess I kind of...got ahead of myself. Not that that’s an excuse or anything!” he interrupted himself quickly, wishing he could just shut up and say what he meant for once. He took a deep breath, raking a hand through his hair, and tried to rally his thoughts. “What I’m trying to say is I really, really like you and today has been totally amazing, and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable and screwed all of that up.” Hizashi gritted his teeth, bracing for what would come next.
To his surprise, instead of agreeing that the kiss had been uncalled for and requesting that Hizashi keep his distance going forward, Aizawa just looked quietly confused. “I-- That’s not it at all,” he said.
Hizashi felt the heavy lump in his chest break apart into a flock of hopeful butterflies. “N-No?” he sputtered, not sure what else to say.
“No. I really like you too,” Aizawa said, sounding a little breathless with the effort of making himself say it out loud. “And today has been great. Earlier, I just. A lot was happening all at once, and then you seemed kind of embarrassed about it so I didn’t want to make it worse by bringing it up. But I didn’t not like it. It was a nice surprise.” The soft smile was back, accompanied by a quiet self-deprecating chuckle as Aizawa reflexively ducked his head and rubbed the side of his neck.
Hizashi’s face was on fire and his chest was so full of fluttering thrills of energy he felt like he might start floating away at any second. “Oh. Cool!” he said, mouth running off into the distance and leaving his brain to catch up a moment later. He winced hard, wanting very much to disappear into the bricks of the corridor wall and never be seen again, but the snorty chuckle Aizawa let out pulled him back. Aizawa hesitated a moment, then braced his hand on Hizashi’s shoulder as he leaned in and kissed him.
A million panicky thoughts about what to do with his hands, nose, face, everything flashed through Hizashi’s head in a split second before being wiped out of existence by the singular thought that Shouta Aizawa was kissing him, and it was awesome. Both of them lingered in the kiss, no one around to interrupt and neither wanting to be the first to pull away. Finally Aizawa leaned back, a full-blown cheshire cat grin on his face.
“Cool,” he agreed. He bit his lip, then said, “My common room is probably going to stay pretty empty until later, even with the weather. We could go sit by the fire and talk some more, if you wanted?” He said it like there would be any question in Hizashi’s mind that today should keep going as long as possible.
“Yeah! I mean, if you’re sure that’s okay?” Hizashi asked, thinking of all of the rumors he’d heard about the intense security around the Hufflepuff dorms.
Aizawa shrugged. “Fair’s fair, right? If Kayama’s going to lecture us about fraternizing we might as well deserve it.”
Hizashi barked out a laugh. “You got me there,” he agreed. He held out a hand, gesturing for Aizawa to lead the way. Instead, Aizawa reached up and took it, lacing their fingers together as they started off down the corridor. Hizashi thought he might very well have a heart attack before he ever got a chance to cross the Hufflepuff threshold but right now it seemed more than worth the attempt.