Work Text:
Sometimes, living on UA’s campus helped keep Aizawa’s household running smoothly, all the people he needed to keep track of conveniently in one place. Sometimes, living on UA’s campus only made Aizawa’s life more difficult, no matter how grateful he was for the extra security it provided.
Unfortunately, today was a difficult day. Aizawa rubbed at his temples, trying in vain to block out the sound of Eri’s new favorite song playing on repeat for the sixth time. Right on schedule, he heard a knock at the door and went to answer it.
With relief, Aizawa handed Eri off to Mirio, who was fresh out of his classes but cheerful as always, and left his apartment. He hurried across the lawn that separated his quarters from the 1A dorm, glancing up at the evening sky as he did so to gauge the amount of daylight left.
He entered the dorm with a practiced swipe of his ID card and made a beeline for the kitchen. Fortunately, there were no kids in the common area to waylay him; by the sound of showers running and footsteps overhead, the class had just returned from training.
Aizawa reached his goal, a huge grocery list that was hanging on the fridge and chaotically covered with additions in a patchwork of different handwritings, and tugged it free of the pink cat magnet that held it in place. He turned to go, eager to escape before one of his students could see him and beg to be allowed on the grocery run, only to find his way blocked by All Might.
“Evening,” said Yagi, giving him an awkward wave.
Aizawa sighed, masking his surprise with annoyance. He hadn’t known Yagi was in the room. It was a bit creepy how quietly the man could walk, given how tall he was.
“I’m just getting this,” he said, holding up the grocery list and edging towards the door.
Please leave me alone, he thought. I just want some peace and quiet.
The school, and Class 1A in particular, had been under partial lockdown for nearly a week following yet another attack on his students. No one was leaving campus without a damn good reason and prior authorization. Aizawa’s reason was officially that he was out of food, and unofficially that he would start pulling his own hair out soon if he didn’t get a chance to have some time alone and a little distance from all the people relying on him.
Yagi must have seen something concerning in Aizawa’s expression, because he backed away slightly, holding his hands out from his sides in a non-threatening posture.
“If you’re going to the store, then I should come with you,” Yagi said, letting Aizawa walk past him but doggedly following him into the common room.
“I’m fine,” Aizawa grunted.
“But the last attack involved you. If you’re going to leave campus, you should have someone watching your back.”
Aizawa glared.
Yagi waited him out, looking nervous, but not nervous enough that he would be willing to back off. Aizawa mourned the days when he had been able to intimidate him.
They both glanced upwards as the sounds from their students overhead changed: scattered footsteps coming together to thunder down the stairs. Aizawa broke.
“Fine, let’s go,” he said, and fled for the door.
They hurried towards the gate in the growing twilight, Yagi looking much more at ease now that he’d bullied Aizawa into accepting his company. They passed the beefed-up security at the gate and headed out into the city.
Aizawa navigated to UA’s favorite corner store easily, Yagi keeping pace in a companionable silence.
“What do we need?” Yagi asked, collecting a basket at the door.
Aizawa pulled out his list. “I’m out of almost everything. Apples and toaster waffles for Eri, plus whatever the kids need.”
Yagi took the class list from him, squinting at the overlapping scrawls.
“I hope you can read this, I’m terrible at deciphering their handwriting.”
“How do you grade papers?” Aizawa asked, guiding them towards the produce section.
“Oh, I just make them type everything.”
“And they don’t complain? Are we teaching the same kids?”
Yagi stopped walking and put the back of his hand to his forehead in a mock faint.
“You wouldn’t mind doing this old man a favor and typing the assignment, would you? And print it in a nice big font, my poor eyes can only take so much,” he said in a quavering voice.
Aizawa snorted despite himself.
As it turned out, class 1A was also running out of basic staples.. Aizawa filled one entire basket with baking supplies for Sato and went back for another one.
“Let me take that,” Yagi said, reaching for the full basket with his free arm, the other already loaded down with their first basket of produce.
“I’ve got it,” snapped Aizawa, juggling two baskets as he tried to open the cooler.
Yagi simply tugged the full basket away from him. “Let me. You’re the one who knows what to buy.”
Aizawa glared at him. He was even more annoyed when Yagi proved to be right, as it was much easier to load items with a free hand. They moved along the snack aisle, Aizawa pulling nearly every other item off the shelf and adding it to their baskets as he consulted the kids’ list.
Despite having been stuck behind Aizawa in the narrow aisles, Yagi somehow made it to the self-checkout counter first and started to pay for the lot before Aizawa noticed.
“Hey, wait,” Aizawa protested, reaching out to stop him. “Half this stuff is for me, you don’t have to.”
Yagi waved him off. “I have years of ad revenue I’ve never spent, what good is that if I can’t buy some groceries for a friend?”
“We aren’t friends.” Aizawa said.
Yagi’s face fell. In an instant he went from cheerful to crestfallen. It would have been funny, except for the fact that Aizawa was afraid he’d just broken All Might’s heart.
“Um… are we friends?” Aizawa asked, trying to repair the damage.
Yagi shrugged, looking down as he bagged items. “I had hoped so,” he said quietly. “We’re basically co-parenting twenty teenagers and a six-year-old, so we must be something.”
“That’s true,” Aizawa agreed. He shouldered his half of their grocery haul, and they left the store.
“I’ve never once been nice to you, though,” Aizawa said as they headed back up the hill to UA.
“No, but you’re always honest. Do you know how many people feel they can be honest with the Symbol of Peace? Not many.” Yagi looked sidelong at him, his face dimly illuminated by the streetlights.
“I appreciate that about you,” Yagi said.
Aizawa shrugged, uncomfortable. “I’ve still done nothing all evening but snap at you for no reason.”
“You’re under immense pressure. The lockdown has everyone on edge, and the kids are clinging even closer to you than normal. It would make anyone tense.”
“I… didn’t realize you had noticed that,” Aizawa said.
Yagi was quiet, quirking his mouth slightly in acknowledgement.
They were at the school gates now, and the noise of cicadas filled the silence between them as Aizawa began the lengthy process of checking them back in through security. Aizawa was grateful for the distraction as he recited the passwords and presented his hand for a fingerprint scan.
By the time they were both through the barrier, Aizawa had settled himself, forcing his exhausted and over-emotional mind back to some semblance of politeness.
“Thank you,” he said to Yagi as they made their way towards the dorms.
“No problem!” said Yagi, his cheerful smile back in place.
“Also, I’m sorry. About earlier. I’m beyond tired, but that’s no excuse.”
Yagi’s smile shifted into something a little more real. “It’s really not a problem. I understand.”
They paused on the dorm’s front porch.
“I can take the food in for the kids,” Yagi offered. “If you’d rather be alone right now.”
Aizawa shook his head. “I can stay for a while.” He paused.
There’s one other thing I can offer, Aizawa thought. It was the last thing he’d have wanted to do when he’d first left his apartment, but the trip with Yagi had somehow managed to soothe his restlessness.
“Mirio can bring Eri over too, and we could have a big family dinner,” Aizawa said.
Yagi brightened, his whole posture changing. For a moment, he reminded Aizawa irresistibly of Midoriya.
“That’d be nice,” he said, and together they opened the door and entered into the light and the laughter of their children.