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It's approaching winter, and to save on money Hizashi's landlord has turned off his water and his electricity.
The first few days it didn't really effect Hizashi, and he didn't really notice – he spends a lot of his time on his magic and eats out a lot. After all, when his magic makes it so that his appliances in his own home don't like to work with him, he eventually has to make some sort of compromise with himself. Take out or undercooked to overcooked food. Hizashi honestly doesn't even turn on the lights that often, since he needs to practice his conjuration. Why waste electricity when he can practice conjuring little fairy lights? They never last long, since keeping them going is a drain on his magic – Hizashi hasn't quite figured out how to make them sustainable on ambient magics instead of solely relying on his own core – but it's a start.
But then, after a spell messes up and he ends up absolutely filthy with what he can only call “Magical Waste,” he finally tries to take a shower and nothing comes out of the pipes.
Hizashi stands in his bathroom, covered in ick, and frowns at the shower head with a quizzical frown on his face. His water likes to act up, sure, but it's always been things like running too slowly or spurting out like a waterfall. Never not coming at all. “Water?” he tries asking, polite and inquisitive. “Please come out?”
Nothing happens.
Luckily he has a few bottles of water in the fridge, so Hizashi steps out of his bathroom unhappily to use some of them to wipe himself down. It'll work just fine, since it's not like he's filthy, but he was hoping for a good shower. It has been a few days, after all. But as he opens the refrigerator door he notices immediately that there's no cold air inside.
In fact, it's not even on.
Hizashi is bewildered. “Hey, what's going on with everything in here?” He asks out loud, hoping to prompt his appliances into answering. With a bit of a wriggle he manages to move the fridge to take a look at the outlet – Nemuri has taught him that he needs to make sure things are plugged in – but to his dismay and confusion he sees that the fridge is plugged in just like it's supposed to be.
“What the hell...?”
Whatever the case, he needs to get cleaned up. Hizashi wrinkles his nose when he realizes he'll need to toss out most of the things in his fridge, and then gets to work on wiping himself down. The towels need to be tossed after that – magical waste isn't something that really comes out of clothing, unfortunately – and after a short trip to the trash shoot Hizashi attempts to make himself a cup of tea to calm himself down before going to ask his landlord what might be going on.
His stove top won't turn on. Not even begging it for half an hour gets it to work.
As it turns out, his landlord doesn't care. "You've got magic,” he says, completely uncaring. “I'm not going to waste my time and money making sure you have things that you can provide for yourself. Figure it out – wave your hands and things will be fine."
“But I'm not that far into my studies – “ Hizashi tries to explain, but the man only fixes him with an unimpressed look.
“You constantly are making things light up or rain in that apartment of yours,” the man says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Utilities like electricity or water are provided for people that can't make it appear out of thin air. You're on your own, kid.”
The door gets slammed in his face.
* ~ _ ~ * ~ _ ~ *
It's the next day that the temperature starts dropping.
He's fine at first. It's a few degrees chillier than he'd like but nothing that an extra layer can't solve. He eats out that night at the cafe across the street and brings home a large tea and an even larger bottle of water. He doesn't stay up late because his lights won't turn on and he still hasn't mastered making light on his own yet, not without the significant drain.
The next day it's even colder than that, and he sneaks brushing his teeth at work. He has a quick sink "shower" while in there too, patting spots he thinks will get the smelliest down with a touch of soap and water while hoping for the best.
The third day it's freezing cold and he can't walk around without a blanket.
The fourth day it snows. He doesn't wake up in time for work, the cold making him slow and groggy.
"Hizashi, you're late," Nemuri tells him when he walks through the door that day, face carefully schooled as he rushes to put his things away in the back. "By nearly an hour."
"I-I know, I'm sorry," Hizashi says, carefully setting his broom up against the wall inside the back door and shrugging off his jacket. He keeps his scarf on, tugging it tighter around his neck and pulling it up over his ears. "I didn't – my alarm wasn't working, and I just slept through it completely."
Nemuri sighs, waving at the register. "Alright. Your bank is in there already, just hurry up, alright?"
Hizashi pauses, a bright smile stuck on his face. "Can I use the restroom, first?"
(He hasn't brushed his teeth yet.)
"It's a Saturday, Hizashi, it's busy," Nemuri says calmly but sternly. There's an odd look on her face as she nods at the register again, eyes flicking over his body with a calculating look. "Please, just wait until it slows down a little, okay?"
The smile he gives her is tense and doesn't reveal his teeth at all. Normally Nemuri wouldn't really notice something like that, but coming from Hizashi it's uncharacteristic. "Alright. Sorry, I'll get to it now."
He doesn't linger, turning and hurrying to his register without another word. Nemuri frowns at his back. Normally Hizashi is loud, enthusiastic and charismatic to their customers. Some days he practically bounces in place he has so much energy. Not today though – within the first few hours of his shift Hizashi starts to flag. It's nothing noticeable to their customers, luckily enough. If you didn't know him very well you'd never notice that his smiles are dimmer than usual, he doesn't seem as energetic, and he's less talkative than usual.
But Nemuri notices. She also notices how he doesn't shed his scarf the entire time it's busy. With how much he's moving around behind the counter he has to be heating up, and yet he keeps adjusting it so it sits close and tight around his throat.
And then, much to her alarm and the guests, Hizashi's magic acts up and shuts off his register completely. No matter how much he tries it simply won't turn back on.
Nemuri has to step in when Hizashi starts tearing up while begging the register to please, please, please work with him. "Okay, okay baby boy, calm down," she says, coming up beside him and grabbing his hands off the sides of the register. "Come on, back up a bit. Ma'am, if you would please wait a moment and another associate will be right with you."
The woman at the counter nods in confusion as Nemuri leads Hizashi to the back room, arm around him as he shakes with frustration and struggles to hold in the tears. He sniffles, blinking quickly, and when she gently presses him into one of the chairs in the office he sits and holds his head in his hands.
"I'm sorry, sorry," he says, voice on the edge of sobs.
"Just sit here a minute, okay baby boy?" Nemuri tells him, squeezing a shoulder before pulling away. "I'm just going to get the register up and that guest taken care of, and I'll be right back."
"Okay..." He sits for a few minutes, trying to get the tears under control and feeling how heavy his limbs are all of a sudden. Well, not all of a sudden. His limbs have been heavy since yesterday, but sitting down like this when his frustration and bad mood are so high they feel heavy. And it doesn't help that his head hurts and his ears feel stuffed and he's cold and hot at the same time.
For a moment the noise of the floor gets louder before there's a click of the door closing again. A click of low heels on the cheap linoleum is what Hizashi hears before a small hand in rubbing over his back, nice and warm and pressing against a few of his aches.
"Hey, baby boy," Nemuri coos softly. "It'll be okay, alright?"
Hizashi sniffles, leaning back a little into her touch. "I'm just... I just – I woke up on the wrong side of the bed today," he mumbles. "That's all. I'm fine."
"You say that, but I think that's not what it is." Nemuri pulls one of the other chairs closer so she can sit next to him. She struggles for a moment for for the words, just rubbing his back. "I've... Noticed that you've been... A bit slow these past couple of days. Not as happy, or bright. And you're hair isn't as perfectly styled."
"It's just been a funk," Hizashi tries to say, raising his head, but Nemuri shakes her head at him.
"No, baby boy, I don't think so." She leans in, her dark blue eyes concerned and imploring. "Be honest with me? Please?"
Hizashi holds out for a bit longer, clearly debating on lying to her again. She'll back off if he insists, he knows from watching her and Shouta interact, but... He's hot and cold and aches all over. And part of him, still confused and upset by his landlord in turns, wants to tell Nemuri. So he hesitates only a bit longer as she stares imploringly at him before he opens his mouth.
"My... My landlord... He cut my power and water a few days ago. When I went to see him about it he said I could figure things out 'cause I have magic."
Nemuri looks outraged. She looks more than outraged actually, with her mouth hanging open and her eyebrows drawing down steadily. "He did what?" She demands. "He cut power and your water off? Hizashi – " She shakes her head. "That's illegal. He can't do that to you- especially in this weather!"
With an almost furious snarl the woman is standing up, face twisted with rage.
"W-where are you going?" He asks helplessly, watching her stalk away with purpose.
"I'm going to go call Shouta so he can pick you up from work," She replies in a short snap.
Hizashi stares at her with wide eyes for a moment before things click, and then panic rises sudden and nearly overwhelming. "Nemuri – I can still work!" He protests, eyes welling up with tears again.
She hates him. She hates him and she's going to fire him because he's dumb and stupid and let his landlord take advantage of his cluelessness. Now that he's sick she's finally recognized just how useless he is. She isn't wasting time getting rid of him to find a newer, better employee either. And why does she need to call Shouta in? Does she think he'll fight her on this? That she needs to get Shouta to drag him bodily from the building - ?
"Hizashi. Hizashi."
Hizashi's eyes dart up to Nemuri's face, following her down as she kneels in front of him. She wipes at the tears streaming down his face with gentle hands. The furious look is gone from her face, the gentle and motherly concern back.
"Come on baby boy, breathe. I'm not getting rid of you. Shouta is coming to get you so he can take you back to his place so someone can take care of you while you're sick. His place is heated and safe for you to sleep in – you can shower and brush your teeth, and you'll be nice and warm. Okay?" Her smile is gentle and concerned when she directs it at him that all he can really do is nod silently and sniffle.
"G-guess I said all that out loud huh?" He asks with a wet laugh as he ducks his head and wipes at his face. It doesn't really do anything to stop him from crying but at least it lets him avoid looking at her for a bit.
The call doesn't take too long, and when Nemuri is done with it she digs into her own cabinet to pull out some tea. "I may not be the manager here, but since I also live right upstairs I hide some of my really good teas down here for when the guests are giving me a headache," Nemuri says as she pours some water into a mug and puts the teabag into it. "A small perk, really, but a good one."
Hizashi sniffs as he takes the mug with careful hands, giving her a wobbly smile. "Thanks..." He shrugs as he holds the mug close to himself, letting the warmth sink in through his fingers. "I - I don't know why I'm such a mess over this, really."
"Baby boy, you're allowed to be upset about these things," Nemuri says, taking a seat next to him. "I'd be livid if someone took away my nightly showers, or if they told me that I couldn't have heat on cold nights. All the time? Ooh, Hizashi, heads would roll."
Hizashi sighs. "I just... I wouldn't be upset if I was further in my magic studies, y'know?"
"Because then you could make your own hot water or power the things around you?" Nemuri asks. When Hizashi only shrugs again, she shakes her head. "It's still not right. Just because maybe you could do that, one day, doesn't mean your landlord has the right to do that to you."
"I guess."
"Just..." Nemuri squeezes his shoulder, standing. "Think it over, okay baby boy? I'm getting back out to the floor – just take it easy until Shouta gets here."
Hizashi nods and then she's gone. He sits for a moment, staring at the mug of tea in his hands, and tears sting his eyes again and feeling frustration make his lip wobble. Gods, only a few days of this and he's turned into a wreck. Such a wreck that he's ended up sick and needing to be taken care of and weepy and frustrated and crying into a mug of tea. It's just... He thought that he'd gotten past people treating him like this. Strangers, thinking that just because he's alone that they can take advantage of him or take things away from him.
(He thought he'd left it all behind when he left his old town. People taking advantage of what he doesn't know because there was no one there to teach him. Sure, he had Yagi, but the man was also busy with everything else.
But it turns out he hasn't left it all behind – and this time people don't hesitate to take advantage of him as they learn how ignorant he is about living in a bigger town.)
When Shouta arrives, Hizashi is surprised by how relieved he is when he sees the other man in the office doorway. Is he happy that he's being sent off shift? No, of course not. But he'll admit to himself that it's a huge comfort to see Shouta standing there.
He looks vaguely sleep rumpled still, and Hizashi experiences mild guilt that they might have woken him up when he should be sleeping. He doesn't really get long to wallow though – Shouta crosses the room in a few long strides and catches him up in his arms when Hizashi stands to meet him. His friend's arms are strong and warm, and his hug is pretty much perfect despite the fact Shouta doesn't seem to like physical contact from people very much.
"I'm going to get you sick," Hizashi mumbles a protest, but he can't make himself pull away.
"That's fine," Shouta replies. He hooks his chin over Hizashi's shoulder to draw him in that last inch. Hizashi can feel his eyes start to prickle again, even if he doesn't try to wipe them away this time.
“Take your time, guys,” Nemuri's voice comes from the doorway, voice soft and gentle. “Get better, Hizashi, okay?”
“Do you want to stop by your place to grab anything?” Shouta asks a few minutes later. “Change of clothes, some of your magic supplies?”
“... I probably shouldn't be flying right now,” Hizashi admits quietly, ducking his head to Shouta's neck as his ears burn in embarrassment. “And I don't have my keys.”
A huff of laughter breathed against his neck has Hizashi's ears burning and something of a sheepish smile crossing his face. “I thought we've gone over this before,” Shouta grumps, though he's clearly amused. “It's fine. You can probably fit in some of my older clothes.”
“But I'm taller than you,” Hizashi says with a sniffles, pulling back to wipe at his cheeks and offer a wobbly smile to Shouta. “By like... a handful of centimeters.”
“I don't think that really matters when you're going to be in bed for the next couple days at least,” Shouta says. There's a searching look in his eyes for a moment before he nods, and he walks behind Hizashi to pick up his broom for him. Immediately after he's at Hizashi's side, one of his hands threading together with Hizashi's. “Come on, we'll take the train to my place. My mom promised to have a soup ready for you when we got back.”
“You mom makes really good soup,” Hizashi mumbles into his scarf, ducking his face down to hide how his cheeks flush with more than just fever.
* ~ _ ~ * ~ _ ~ *
Getting settled into the Aizawa residence is... Surprisingly easy.
Hizashi had already been coming over to the house for a few weeks now, working on his larger magic projects out in the backyard instead of his cramped little apartment, so he's already gotten more familiar with Shouhime and Haruto. But he's always felt like a guest, no matter how welcoming and kind and familiar they've been with him.
And yet, Shouhime does have that soup ready when they get back to the house. She's also already made up one of the guest rooms, putting in a humidifier and fresh, warm bedding on the mattress. “Don't worry about a thing, sweety,” she tells him, pushing his sweaty hair from his face in a motherly gesture. “We'll take care of you.”
As Hizashi slowly eats the soup provided to him, Shouta leaves to go to the store and returns shortly with medicine. It's surprising how simple it is for Hizashi to let the other young man pour out the liquid and hand it to him, and how easy it is for him to let him take the empty bowl to the kitchen for him. “Do you need help running a bath?” Shouta asks him when he returns to the room, concern on his tired face. “Nemuri said you didn't have water at your place, either, so...”
“You can just show me how to work the faucet,” Hizashi tells him, sniffling from a stuffed nose rather than tears. “And hopefully my magic won't make it all funky.”
The water works just fine for him, and Hizashi takes his first real bath in nearly a week. It does wonders to ease the aches in his body, and to his surprise and tired delight Shouta has freshly dried pajamas and a warmed towel laid out for his use. He drags his fingers over the fluffy towel with a happy little sigh, and when he presses it to his face he can't help the way he relaxes. Has anyone other than his teacher back in his home village ever done something like this for him?
From what he can remember, probably not.
After that Hizashi climbs into the bed to take a nap. He might have been dreaming it, but he thinks he might have felt calloused fingers drag through his freshly cleaned hair over and over, slow and steady like someone would pet a cat. Whether reality or a dream, it's soothing, and it eases him further into relaxing in his sleep for the first time in days.
The days following are... Well, much of the same.
Shouhime and Haruto are more than happy to help provide him with anything he needs, food or fresh clothing or peace and quiet when his fever spikes despite the medicine. And Shouta is there through it all – he even skips his classes the day Hizashi is too weak to get out of bed unassisted. “I've got a classmate who's taking notes for me today,” Shouta tells him when he protests weakly. “It's fine. I'd rather make sure you're okay.”
(Neither of them notice the knowing smiles Shouhime and Haruto shoot each other.)
When his sickness starts to ease up and Hizashi starts feeling restless, Shouta sits with him on the living room couch with one of his magical theory books to go over some of the spells that he's been looking forward to crafting. It's like usual, only this time Hizashi is practically rolled up in a blanket and is flailing a hand from the edge of it, and Shouta helps him keep the book from falling off of his lap and onto the floor. The dark-haired man asks intuitive questions that have Hizashi giving a tired beam and babbling off a tangent that he can barely follow, but somehow it always helps Hizashi figure out where to go next in crafting his spells.
And sometimes, Shouta will be the one working on his homework next to where Hizashi is laid up in the guest bedroom, frowning down at the textbook with a furious scowl. “It's just economics, Shouta,” Hizashi will tease, hiding his face behind a tissue as he blows his nose. It never fails to get Shouta to huff and explain why it's never just economics, rattling off textbook information in a deadpan tone that never fails to get the blonde witch to start giggling and laughing, sore throat and cough be damned.
It also never fails to get Shouta's lips to twitch upwards in a grin.
Every day, as Hizashi heals and recovers, looking forward to getting on his broom again, he's surprised and yet not by how comfortable he is like this, living with Shouta. He enjoys the hours of time spent by the other man's side, not always talking or doing anything. Sometimes they just sit in silence, not doing anything at all, and it feels so terribly natural that Hizashi really can't believe they've never lived together before.
“Did you ever think that you'd be friends with a witch?” Hizashi asks Shouta one day, when his cough is mostly gone and he's not filling up the trash can in the bathroom with quite so many tissues.
Shouta gives a distracted hum from where he's skimming over his notes for his upcoming test. One that Hizashi knows he's more than ready for. “Hm?” He looks up after a moment, a dark brow raised in question. “What makes you ask that?”
“Dunno,” Hizashi says honestly, rolling onto his side to look up at Shouta from a propped up chin. “Just... This feels pretty normal. Natural?” He gives a shrug. “Like, I never thought I'd be temporarily living with some city-slicker, but here I am, and it feels like I've been doing it all my life. Not the part where I'm sick, of course, but like, y'know, it just feels – you know?”
“I think...” Shouta pauses, tapping his pencil on his notebook. “You're thinking too much into it.”
“Shoooutaaaa!”
“It feels natural to me, too,” Shouta tells him, surprising the pout off of Hizashi's face. There's something fond and affectionate in his expression as he grins down at him, and Hizashi can feel his cheeks warming under the look. “Dunno why, but it does.”
Hizashi's face slowly splits on a smile, looking up at Shouta hopefully. “Yeah?”
“Who knows,” Shouta says with a shrug as his grin grows, showing off all his teeth. “Maybe it's magic.”