Chapter Text
“Using the door today Shirakumo-san?”
The blue hair boy chuckled and rubbed the back of his head. If the boy was embarrassed about being late, he didn’t show it. Without a response, Shirakumo rushed to his seat. Yamada smiled.
“Almost thought you weren’t coming today bro!”, Yamada said.
Shirakumo smiled back and sat between Yamada and Aizawa. He and the blonde high-fived each other and Shirakumo raised a finger. The taller boy opened his bookbag and sorted through it. Aizawa picked his head up from his desk and blinked. Aizawa peered over at Yamada who simply shrugged.
“Here they are--”, Shirakumo pulled out two cards, “I was late because I was making these.”
Shirakumo handed a card to each of the boys. Written in Shirokumo’s sloppy handwriting was…..something. Yamada lifted up his shades and squinted at the writing.
“I can’t read a single character of this,” the blonde stated.
“They’re invitations to his sleep over tonight,” Aizawa responded with a yawn.
“You can read this Aizawa? It looks like a 1200 year old monk wrote it,”
Shirakumo huffed, “It’s not that bad. Shōta-bo can read it.”
“Ugh, don’t call me that,” Aizawa laid his head back on his desk, “I’m not a little boy.”
Shirakumo laughed and patted the other on the back. Yamada laughed as well and lowered his shades. Aizawa was the shortest of the trio. Shirakumo stood a head above the brunet on a good day. Even more when the cloud hero was in costume.
"So are you guys coming? We can stop by your places to grab your clothes! And then we can go to the market to grab snacks you guys like. I've already bought some stuff--some movies, some new cassettes, some pillows--oh! I also got some cool face masks. They tingle when you use them," the tall boy rattled on.
"Excuse me! If you boys are done disrupting the class, please pay attention."
-----
The three boys could be heard before they even walked into Yamada's house. Their first stop on their way to Shirakumo's home. The boys took off their shoes in the foyer before Yamada dashed off. The house was American-style. Modeled off of his mother's childhood home in New Jersey. Aizawa looked to his left. The wall there was decorated with family photos, some looking a bit older than others. Aizawa smiled to himself when he noticed just how much Yamada looked like his mother.
“Woah! Hiza-chan’s mom is super cute,” came from over his shoulder. Suddenly, Shirakumo’s head was resting on the other’s shoulder. The blue haired boy pressed his finger to a photo. It was a noticeably younger Yamada being held by a blonde woman. Her wide smile took up the majority of her face while her hair fell to her ankles.
“I wonder if she’s loud,” Shirakumo muttered.
Aizawa elbowed the other in the stomach before walking off into the living room. Aizawa is not nosey. He simply prefers to know where everything is what everything is. Yamada came back downstairs in his civilian clothes and his gym bag in tote. Aizawa was sitting in front of a bookcase and flipping through an english novel.
“Hiza-chan! Do you have everything you need?”, Shirakumo asked as he took the blonde’s bag.
Aizawa looked up as his blonde friend gave a thumbs up. Aizawa slid several books back into the bookcase before standing up. He stretched, yawned, and let a sleepy smile grace his face. The boy watched the two chat for a moment before clearing his throat.
“We should go before it starts getting dark,”
“Onto your place!”, Shirakumo shouted before dashing back to the foyer.
Aizawa rolled his eyes and followed the other two boys. He slipped on his shoes and pushed his hair back out of his eyes. Yamada was humming some song under his breath as the three boys left the Yamada home. Aizawa fell a step behind his friends as the two started chatting. Something about an american television show they’ve been watching in English class.
“Hey, maybe we should take a cab,” Yamada suggested as he looked at the sky.
“That might be best,” the cloud hero stated before moving to the street to hail a cab.
Aizawa stepped up to stand beside Yamada. The blonde had changed out of his school uniform. The drab UA grey had been replaced with bright orange. He looked a little like a traffic cone. But, an oddly fashionable traffic cone. The orange shirt hung off of a shoulder. There were english phrases across the shirt. What the fuck was a ‘nickelodeon’? Taking the taxi was expensive, not that Shirakumo would allow the other two to split with him. The thought crossed his mind as a garish green taxi stopped in front of them. Shirakumo opened the back door and Yamada hopped in screaming about a window seat. Aizawa crawled in after the other. He sat his bag in his lap. He inched closer to Yamada so Shirakumo could slide in beside him. By taxi, it would take 15 minutes to get back into Tokyo. Shirakumo smiled softly at the brunet.
“It’ll be great to see your cat again,”