Chapter Text
Whoever Hitoshi’s soulmate was, he really liked to sing.
Hitoshi heard his voice in his head at least once a day, if not more. There were a handful of songs- most Hitoshi had to look up the lyrics online to find out what they were- that he liked to sing the most. Soon he noticed a pattern, like a show order. Sometimes his soulmate only sang backup vocals. At this point, Hitoshi was ninety percent sure that his soulmate was in a chorus class or a band or something.
Sometimes his soulmate would just hum little melodies he had made up himself. Like, Hitoshi would be doing his homework late and he would randomly hear his soulmate humming in his head, and then hear his voice singing,
Brushing my teeeeth, I’m brushing my teeeeeth!
And then Hitoshi would give up on his homework entirely because he knew this would continue for the next half hour.
The constant singing could grate in his nerves sometimes. Like when he would be trying to pay attention in class and suddenly his soulmate decided this would be the perfect time to scream
Lady Gaga at the top of his lungs. Sometimes, he’d sing a song over and over, like he’s trying to get it perfectly. It would last hours, and by the end of it, Hitoshi would have a pounding headache.
Not to say Hitoshi minded it, though. His soulmate's voice was nice. His voice was higher than Hitoshi’s, but still obviously masculine. It was soothing, in a way. It sounded like honey lemon, sweet and soft. He sang often enough that Hitoshi had memorized the sound of his voice.
Hitoshi never often sang himself, he didn’t really like the sound of his own voice. It was deep and raspy and he couldn’t sing. At all. Sometimes his soulmate’s songs got stuck in his head, and he would find himself singing along to them, humming to himself while he did his homework. But that was about it.
He often wondered what his soulmate looked like. Was he taller or shorter than him? Tanner or paler? Lighter or darker hair?
His soulmate was currently singing along to some indie song he had never heard before as he tried to pull a picture into his head of who that voice might belong to.
I’ll cut my hair.
To make you stare…
I’ll hide my chest and I’ll
Figure out a way to get us out of here…
It was soft and methodic, but it was making it really hard to focus on his English assignment. He was supposed to be working on a “Sir Gawain and the Green Knight” project in partners. Hitoshi’s partner had green hair and greener eyes and liked to talk to himself. He seemed to be under the impression that they were friends (they were not). Nonetheless, Hitoshi could think of worse people to be stuck with.
Are you dead?
Sometimes I think I’m dead.
‘Cause I can feel ghosts and ghouls rapping my head
But I don’t want to fall asleep just yet.
Izuku drummed his fingers on the desk, snapping Hitoshi out of his own head. They were done with their work for today, but Izuku had been talking about this and that to keep the awkward silence from lapsing. Most of the time, he ended up talking about the place he worked at. He was a waiter at a restaurant Hitoshi knew all too much about. He had to pass the eyesore everyday to get to school. He walked to school, and the thing was right in his way. It was poplar enough for kids his age. It was one of those “hip” indie places that had a purposefully tacky decor and coffee and a house band.
“Are you paying attention to anything I just said?” Izuku asked.
Not wanting to lie, Hitoshi shook his head. Izuku sighed and picked at his nails. “If you just went in for an interview, I’d stop bothering you!” he pleaded, “It’s super fun! I promise.”
“No thanks,” he responded.
God, I mention that I need a job one time.
He hears rustling and sees several of his classmates packing their bags. Confused, he flicks his gaze to the clock hanging in the wall and reads the time. A minute until the bell.
“Before I dismiss you,” says Mr. Hizashi, from the front of the room, “My babysitter canceled on me. Is anyone free tomorrow afternoon? I pay twenty dollars an hour!”
Hitoshi looks Midoriya directly in the eye before walking up to their English teacher.
“I’m free.”
Me. Hizashi beams, immediately relieved. “Oh thank God. You’re a lifesaver, Shinso. You have my email, right? I’ll email you everything you need to know. Thanks again.”
“Anytime.” he says, swinging a backpack over his shoulder. He doesn’t miss Izuku’s exasperated sigh as he waltzes out the door.
Get a load of this train wreck
His mind’s a mess and he doesn’t know who he is yet.
But little does he know the stars welcome him with open arms.
Oh.
…
“This can’t be right,” Hitoshi mumbled to himself.
He stands in front of the stupid tacky indie restaurant, checking the email on his phone to make sure he got the address right. And yeah, the address is correct.
The blinding neon sign reading “The Musical Chair” greets him as he sighs and enters through the swinging doors.
His eyes have to adjust to the darkness of the restaurant. The only light seems to be coming from twelve lava lamps scattered throughout the room at random and three medium size chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. One made of smaller lamps, one made of gummy bears, and one that seemed to be covered in feathers.
Once his eyes adjusted, he was able to see that the floor, ceiling, walls, chairs, and tables were all made of the same dusty brown wood material making the whole place look rustic. There were booths lined up against the left wall and tables scattered in the middle of the room. The right wall had two doors next to one another. One he assumed went to the kitchen, because next to it, a bit farther back against the right wall, was an open bar, one that resembled a Starbucks counter- so he assumed it was for coffee. The back wall had a door at the very right. At the middle right of the back wall sat a small platform, which Hitoshi assumed the house band played on.
Standing right infront of him, though, was a tiny help podium. Behind it stood a pink haired girl with a bomber jacket that- in Hitoshi’s opinion- held way too many alien pins. She smiled at him.
“My name is Mina! Welcome to The Musical Chair. Can I sit you somewhere?”
Hitoshi cleared his throat. “Actually, my teacher Mr. Hizashi lives here I think? I’m supposed to be babysitting his daughter.”
“Oh!” She exclaimed. “You must be Mirio’s sub in. Gotcha gotcha.” She tapped her nose like the two of them were in on a secret. “Let me take you to the back.”
He followed her to the door at the back of the restaurant. It lead to spiral stairs, which they climbed to the top. Which led to another door. Mina knocked loudly.
“Mr. Hizashi is married to our boss, Mr. Aizawa.” Mina explained. “They live above the restaurant.”
Hizashi nodded, and the door creaked open. Mr. Hizashi stoop there, a little girl holding onto his leg.
“Oh you’re here! Good good.” he said. He stood slightly to the left, letting the little girl into view. She had long white hair and red eyes. She looked up at him and looked away.
“Eri, this is Shinso.” he explained, “He’s going to play with you for a little while.”
The little girl nodded. “Okay, I’ll be back soon. Be good!” He kissed her quickly on the forehead and rushed down the stairs. “I’ll pay you when I get back,” he said to Hitoshi. “There’s cut up apple slices in the fridge if she gets hungry and the band plays at three o’clock, she’ll want to be down stairs for that. Thanks again.”
“No problem.” said Hitoshi.
He hurried the rest of the way back down the stairs, Mina following after him, which just left Hitoshi and Eri.
“Hey, Eri.” he began, “It’s nice to meet you.”
The little girl flushed and pulled at the bottom of her pink kitten sweater, still acting shy.
“You want to show me around your house?” Hitoshi suggested, “Maybe we could find something fun to do.”
Eri nodded and walked back into the apartment. Hitoshi followed her inside, and found himself in a living room. There was play dough on the coffee table. Eri shyly introduced Hitoshi to the television, where she watches peppa pig. Then she showed him to the kitchen where the cheese sticks are. Then she guided him down a hall to her dads’ room, where a brown tabby cat walked out and greeted them.
“That’s Tuna. We have two cats. Mochi is here somewhere…”
They find Mochi in the next room Eri took him to, sitting in the bathroom sink. Hitoshi scratched the tortoiseshell cat between the ears and followed Eri to her room.
The little girl warmed up to him as she showed him her drawings. They sat on the floor and he watched her scribble with crayon over the pages. Then she complained she was hungry, so he got the apple slices out of the fridge. As she happily munched in them in the kitchen, she saw the discarded play dough on the coffee table. She explained that she had been playing with her dad, he had been showing her how to make certain shapes out of the clay.
She showed Hitoshi the dolphin she had made with the blue play dough, and tried to show Hitoshi how to do it.
“I also know how to make a cat.” she informed him. “Let’s do that next.”
Hitoshi flicked his gaze to the clock on the wall, and noted the time.
“Hey,” he said, “it’s almost three o’clock. Why don't we go downstairs and see the house band, and then you can show me how to make a cat?”
Eri nodded fast, like a little bobble head, and stood up quickly. “I wanna see the band! C’mon, let’s go!”
She grabbed him by the sleeve and tugged him down the stairs. Re entering the restaurant, Eri wove through tables to find an empty one, as though she had done this a thousand times. Every waiter they passed said a quick cheerful hello to Eri as they passed. One boy with spiky red hair and a scar over his right eye performed an elaborate handshake with her before saying she looked manly today.
She found a little square table with two seats and sat down on one of the wooden chairs. Hitoshi sat down across from her. “You’re very popular here, aren’t you?” he said. “Are you friends with all the waiters?”
Eri beamed and nodded. “And the band, too.”
She waved her little hand at the stage. Four people occupied it, one with slicked back black hair and a red choker was tuning a guitar. One girl sat down at the keyboard, her glossy black hair pulled back into a spiky ponytail. A guy with ridiculously large arm muscles and a blue face mask was fixing a microphone stand for the last girl, who held another guitar and had short black hair and big hoop earrings, who saw Eri waving and waved back.
“Very impressive.” said Hitoshi. Eri hid her face in her hands.
The guy with the blue mask step down from the stage as soon as two blonds took his place. One was yelling loudly at the other, his spiky hair made his way to the drum set. The other had softer hair that framed his face in two cow licks, while the rest fell short and wispy. He wore a black shirt and tattered black pants with an unbuttoned purple flannel. Everyone here looked like they picked the most edgy clothes they had to wear today. Flannel and AC/DC shirts filled his vision. He wondered if it was a part of the dress code.
The first guy grumbled to himself and he sat down behind the drums, and the second guy stuck his tongue out at him and walked over to the girl with hoop earrings and picked up the third guitar.
“Thats Jirio.” said Eri, pointing to the hoop earrings girl. “She’s the singer. And Bakugo’s the loud one. And next to her that’s- thats Denki. He’s not the singer but he sings sometimes.”
“You mean like backup vocals?” he asked, not sure if she knew what the phrase meant.
“Yeah yeah.” she said. “That’s Tokoyami, he writes sad poetry but he doesn’t cry when he reads it, or else his makeup would run. That’s why he says, anyway. And the piano girl, that’s Momo. She’s really pretty.”
Then she looked left and right, then motioned for him to come closer so she could whisper something in his ear. He compiled, and she said, “She said I could call her Yo-Momo. That’s her nickname, and her friends call her that.” She smiled as she pulled away, like she had just shared the biggest secret she knew.
“Gotcha.” said Hitoshi.
Someone must’ve tapped their microphone because Hitoshi covered his ears at the sound of screeching feedback.
“Sorry! Sorry.” said one of the blonds, Denki.
The musicians spoke to one another quietly and Jirio leaned into her mic. “Okay everyone, we’re going to start. Hope you all enjoy.”
Bakugo began pounding on the drums, and the band launched into a song he surprisingly already knew. It was a Taylor Swift song, though he couldn’t remember what it was called. It was one of the songs his soulmate liked to sing.
Vintage Tee, brand new phone
High heels on cobblestone
When you are young, they assume you know nothing…
The sound seemed to rebate in his skull, like it was echoing through his head. He blamed it on shitty speakers. For some reason, their sound felt familiar. But he’s walked past this stupid joint enough times that he must’ve heard them play before, right?
But I knew you
Playin hide and seek and
Givin me your weekends
I,I knew you
Your heartbeat on the High Line
Once in twenty lifetimes…
A familiar bob of green hair approached them and suddenly, Hitoshi was very interested in what was happening onstage.
“Eri!” said Izuku. The little girl sat on her knees in the chair and smiled at him.
“Deku!” she squealed. Was that a nickname? He walked up to the table and leaned one elbow on it.
“Whose your friend?” he asked.
Eri tugged on his sleeve, “This is Shinso. His hair is purple!”
“That it is, Eri.” Midoriya leaned past Eri to look straight at him. “Enjoying your stay at the restaurant so far?” He looked far too happy that Hitoshi was here.
This was a trick question. He couldn’t say “no” without hurting Eri’s feelings, but he couldn’t say “yes” without Izuku using it to press him to take the job.
‘Cause I knew you’d linger like a tattoo kiss
I knew you’d haunt all my what-ifs
The smell of smoke would hang around this long
‘Cause I knew everything when I was young…
“Yes.” said Hitoshi, after a long sigh, and was then greeted with two twin smiles from Eri and Izuku.
“Daddy says I can have the bubble tea today.” said Eri.
Midoriya scrunched up his nose at her playfully. “Did he? I think I distinctly remember him saying not to give you the bubble tea while he was out.”
Eri shook her head, “Nope! He said I could have the bubble tea.”
Izuku shrugged his shoulder dramatically. “Well I guess I have no choice. One bubble tea coming right up!”
Eri giggled in delight and when Midoriya was out of earshot, she whispered to Hitoshi, “Daddy didn’t say I could have the bubble tea today.”
Hitoshi gave her a loud, mock gasp. “Really? You sneaky little girl.” Eri giggled and clapped her hands.
When Hitoshi zoned back in on the music, they had changed songs
All I am is a man
Got the world in my hands
I hate the beach
But I stand
In California with my toes in the sand…
“Sometimes,” she said, “they play my favorite song.”
“What would that be?”
“Baby shark!” she said, bouncing in her seat. excitedly.
Hitoshi laughed, “Good choice.” He zoned back in on the music, trying to imagine the band playing it.
She knows what I think about
And what I think about
One love two mouths
One love one house
Just us you find out
Nothing that we don’t want to tell you about
No no no!
He was zoned out enough to flinch when Izuku placed a pink boba down next to Eri. She took the straw from his hand and ripped it open with her teeth. “Strawberry is her favorite,” he explained.
It’s too cold woah
For you here
And now
So let me hold
Both your hands in
The holes of my sweater…
Eri was still gnawing on the plastic of the straw, so Izuku took it from her and opened it himself. The song they were playing stopped, and a new one started. This one a bit faster, and the backup singer took the lead this time and-
Hitoshi froze.
Candy
She’s sweet like candy in my veins
Baby
I’m dying for another taste
His words washed over Hitoshi like honey lemon, soft and familiar. He knew this voice like the back of his hand.
And every night my mind is running around her
Thunders getting louder and louder
Baby you’re like lightning in a bottle
I can’t let you go now that I’ve got it
And all I need it to be struck by your electric love
That was his voice. The voice in his head. His soulmate’s voice. It was right there.
Hitoshi felt his throat constrict. He hadn’t considered what he would do if and when he found his soulmate. He assumed he would know when he was about to meet his soulmate. This came out of nowhere, he wasn’t prepared to-
“- Shinso?”
Hearing his name snapped him out of it. “What?”
“I asked what your favorite flavor of boba tea was?” Izuku asked, suddenly sounding concerned.
Hitoshi hoped his face wasn’t as hot as it felt. “Oh, uh, I don’t really have a favorite. I like the fruity ones, though.”
Drowning
You make my heart beat like the rain
Surround me
I’m dying for another taste
“So do I,” said Eri, “But Strawberry is the best fruit flavor. You can try, if you want!” She shook the plastic cup at Hitoshi and the pink liquid sloshed inside. He could see where she had been chewing on the straw.
Rushing through me
I feel your energy rushing through me…
“Thanks Eri,” he said, “but I’m not thirsty.”
Baby you’re like lightning in a bottle
I can’t let you go now that I’ve got it
And all I need is to be struck by your electric love
Izuku trained his eyes to where Hitoshi was staring, then looked back at Hitoshi, confusion written on his face. A brunette with a bob and bangs that looked like she cut them herself waved him over at the counter. “Oh! Uh,” he then turned to Eri. “Enjoy your boba, I’ll see you later!”
Eri sipped silently from her cup and waved at him as he speed walked away.
Baby you’re electric.
Without another word, the musicians began packing up their things and carrying them offstage. Panic boiled in Hitoshi’s chest. What was he supposed to do now? His soulmate was leaving and he hadn’t had a chance to talk to him. Was he… should he go talk to him? He couldn’t leave Eri alone, and he wasn’t going to drag her somewhere she didn’t want to be. Was he supposed to be going over there to talk to him? What were you supposed to do when you recognize your soulmate from across the room but they didn’t know who you were and you didn't know them?? Was he supposed to introduce himself as his soulmate or would that scare him off?
As the panic built, Eri tugged on his sleeve, completely oblivious to it. “C’mon, I wanna go say hi to Momo and the others.” She slipped out of her seat and skipped over to the stage. Hitoshi managed to calm his breathing and follow her.
She ran up to Jirio and Momo, who were carrying a microphone stand and keyboard respectively, chatting. Their faces brightened when Eri stopped in front of them.
“Hey kiddo!” said Jirio. “What have you been up to?”
“Did you like our performance?” Momo added.
Eri nodded, “I’m here with my new friend, Shinso!” she pointed in his direction, and he waved at them as best he could while trying not to look like he was on the verge of a panic attack.
Momo beamed at him while Jirio nodded solemnly. They kept talking, but Hitoshi couldn’t hear their words. It felt suddenly numb. Hitoshi moved his gaze from the conversation to just behind Jirio’s shoulder.
Denki was in an animated conversation with the spiky red head who had called Eri “manly” earlier and the drummer, Bakugo. Spiky hair laughed at something Denki said and stepped back onto the stage, Bakugo following quickly.
“Shinso, Shinso!” Hitoshi flinched at his name, and looked down at the little girl who spoke it. “My daddy says it’s rude to stare at people.”
Hitoshi’s face felt red again. “I. I don’t- I’m not staring.”
“My daddy says if you want to talk to somebody, then you should just do it.”
Jirio had a fist to her mouth, trying to fight a laugh, while Momo looked directly at her toes.
“I’m not starting.” Hitoshi repeated.
Eri grabbed his sleeve. “C’mon.” She said, tugging him over to the stage, to when Denki was struggling to hold a microphone stand and his guitar.
When he saw Eri, he abandoned the endeavor. “Hey, kid!” God that voice was so familiar. “Good to see you. Who's your friend?”
Eri gestures toward Hitoshi with her boba. “This is Shinso. He was staring at you a few seconds ago, and during- when you were singing. So now I’m introducing you- so that you can be friends.”
Hitoshi could hear his heartbeat in his ears. He looked at the floor, refusing to meet Denki’s eye. Silence stretched for what felt like an eternity before Denki finally broke it.
“Neat.”
Hitoshi nodded. Could this day get any worse? Like actually, could it? He tried to think of something more embarrassing that could happen to him right now, but came up blank. This was as embarrassing as it got, apparently.
“So. You like my singing?” Denki asked.
Well that’s an understatement.
Well, since this can’t possibly get anymore embarrassing than it already was, why not?
He looked back up, still refusing to look him in the eye, “Yes.”
At least I have a legitimate excuse never to come here again.
“Cool, cool.” Denki muised. “Y’know, Eri, I think you’re right. I’d love to be your friend, Shinso.”
That got Hitoshi’s attention.
He snapped his gaze back at Denki’s. This close, he could see that Denki was wearing a choker and ratty black vans. He had a streak of black in his hair that looked like a lightning bolt, and his eyes were honey gold.
“Uh-“ Hitoshi began, eloquently, and was then interrupted by Bakugo walking past. He stopped to flick Denki on the head.
“Stop flirting with everything that walks through the front door, you twink. You have register duty, and I’m not fucking doing it for you this time.”
Aaaaaand back to looking at the floor.
“First of all,” Denki said, covering Eri’s ears with his hands. “Little ears. Second of all, give me literally two seconds, and I’ll do it. Third of all, I don’t flirt with everyone! I don’t flirt with you because like most people who aren’t Kirishima, I don’t find you attractive.”
Bakugo froze for a moment, like he was getting ready to hit Denki in the face. Then remembered he had a drum in his hands. “I will give you thirty seconds, then we’re throwing hands.” He then marched off toward one of the doors on the right wall.
Denki waved him off. “Ignore him, Bakugo has stick stuck up his a- butt.” He removed his hands from Eri’s head. “But hey- let me know if you ever stop by again.” Then, his eyes brightened, like he suddenly hit a stroke of genius. “Actually…”
He reached into his flannel pocket and pulled out a pen. Then he grabbed Hitoshi’s hand (he was surprised at how calloused Denki’s hands were. They had looked so small… but he played the guitar, so...) and scribbled something down on the back of it. “There.” he said. Hitoshi brought his hand up to his face, and saw the ten numbers written there. “Now you can text me.”
Not entirely sure how to respond to that, Hitoshi stood there in silence, staring at it. Then he realized he could hear Bakugo counting down loudly from behind one of the doors labeled “crew lounge”.
“Six, five, four, three…”
Denki seemed to notice at the same time he did and panicked, looking from the discarded guitar to the microphone stand as if trying to decide which was more important. Then picked up the guitar and raced off, yelling over his shoulder.
“ Nicetomeetyougottagobye! “
Hitoshi stared at where Denki disappeared for far too long before Eri tugged at his sleeve again.
“Shinso, you said we would make play dough cats after this.”
As Hitoshi followed Eri back up the stairs, he suppressed a sigh. Izuku was totally going to make him get the stupid job, wasn’t he?