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When he’s hit, it's a wrong place, wrong time situation. A civilian caught in the middle of a fight that wasn’t even meant to happen. He’d been chaperoning Mineta back to the dorms after a mandated therapy session, a working solution to his previously disgusting nature, when a villain caught them. He was dealt with quickly, but they didn’t escape unscathed. By the time the villain had been arrested, Aizawa noted how baggy his hero costume felt, and how oddly the police had been staring at him. Nothing sunk in until he looked at Mineta, who wasn’t much taller, but looked much older. His face showed age, his voice was considerably deeper as he asked if the other person was okay, a light dusting of purple stubble clung to the lower half of his face, and his head was now covered in his purple orbs.
“I’m so sorry!” shouted the civilian, who had a look of utter shame on their face, “I wasn’t thinking straight and all I could think of was getting the kid out of that man’s way, and then I ended up using my quirk and I meant to swap your positions but something went wrong and I-”
Aizawa placed a smaller hand on the other shoulder, speaking with a practiced calmness, “Take a breath, take your time, and explain again. What’s your name?”
“Nagihiko. Um, my friends call me Nagi.”
Aizawa rubs their shoulder, “Okay Nagi. Can you explain what happened?”
Nagi thinks and takes a deep breath, “I saw the purple kid near the villain, so I went to swap you with him. My quirk lets me swap two things around, but sometimes it kinda ‘glitches’ and it swaps things I didn’t mean to swap.”
Nagi shuffles in place, clearly nervous, “I meant to swap your positions, but I think my quirk may have glitched and possibly swapped your ages.”
“SWAPPED OUR AGES?” Mineta shouts, a hand flying to his now scratchy face, “HOW DOES THAT EVEN HAPPEN?”
Nagi explained that his quirk specifically allows him to swap the properties of two things, and that in his fear as the villain attacked, he must have swapped their bodies' physical ages as opposed to their positions, “Though I have to say, I didn’t think it was possible to switch ages around. I’ll just switch you back and…” He stared ahead in shock, “It’s not working.”
Aizawa froze. Not working? It should be working, he should be in his 30’s again, not 17. Nagi tried again and again, but nothing worked, so he tried to swap his nail polish, something smaller, but that didn’t work either.
“It’s supposed to work. It should be working. Why wont it work?” he whispered, worry settling in the cracks of his words. The civilian broke down, falling to their knees with a worrying force, tears slowly dotting the pavement beneath them.
The police were insensitive as they pushed for Aizawa to finish up so they could process the man currently cuffed in their van. He gave just enough of a statement and watched them leave, then sat by a wall while Aizawa called Detective Tsukauchi, in the hopes that he could help them.
It proved to be a moot point. From what he could gather, this was their current situation for the time being, until Nagi could get their quirk to work again. They thanked him for taking time out and got Nagi’s contact info before leaving.
It wouldn’t be too hard to teach in his current state, until it becomes apparent how inexperienced he was at 17.
His abilities were severely limited, and though he knew he could do these things, it felt impossible to reach the limits he was so used to. His eyes grew tired more easily, he found it harder to glide through the air with his scarf, he couldn’t control his scarf as well as he used to. He felt like he was failing. By the time his shortcomings were apparent, Nezu had what he believed to be a perfect solution; Aizawa would enrol in Mineta’s place until their ages could be restored, and in return, he could re-train his quirk.
Surprisingly, it seemed to have been the best suggestion, as Aizawa took his place among his now classmates. The situation had been explained to them, but it still took them by surprise to see him sitting on their side of the classroom. Mineta’s absence was attributed to his internship with The Lurkers, who had temporarily taken him on as a sidekick.
He still trains with Shinsou, still hangs with Nemuri and Hizashi, still lurks in his usual patrol spots, but now they train as equals, now he gets teased by his friends for how ‘cute’ he is, now he lurks in the daylight, wondering if someone took up the slack in his absence.
For a while, it all worked out, and everyone seemed happy. Aizawa actually learned new things about his quirk, Mineta flourished as a sidekick, and his attitude began to actually change for the better, but for Hitoshi, the student arguably most close to the ex-pro, it was a tempting agony. Sure, he hid it well, masking it as ‘hero admiration’ that had since turned to convincing Aizawa he was just making him feel comfortable in class, but once you were informed, his glaring, two year long crush on his former mentor was hard to miss. It didn’t help that the younger Aizawa was, if anything, more attractive. He’d been enamoured with the man since he saw him watching during a General Studies class training session, and each day was another opportunity to fall deeper in.
Whenever Aizawa landed a punch, gave a small smile over their shared lack of breakfasts, followed him to hidden spots around the school campus where they could spend their lunch time in peace, his heart would skip a beat. At this rate, he probably had a year's worth of missed heartbeats.
The day Aizawa told him to call him Shouta, Hitoshi nearly spat his monster out, “Why...why...why?”
“We’re friends,” he stated as he took a drag of the cigarette they were sharing, “So it seems logical that you call me by my name.”
They were friends? Hitoshi took a long swig of his drink to hide the way he blushed.
“Sure...Shouta...I can call you that.” he paused, “You can call me Hitoshi then! I mean, I already told you to, but it doesn’t hurt to remind you now we’re friends.”
“Well, that's what friends do. Now, Hitoshi, we’ve got to get back to class, so I suggest you drink that before Nemuri catches you. She really hates energy drinks.”
“And what would she think of you smoking?” Hitoshi quips,
“I smoked as an adult. It’ll be fine, I'll just turn on the ‘Shota’ charm.” he laughs, “And yes, that's the other ‘Shota’. Stop derailing, Hitoshi!”
Hearing Shouta use his name sends a pleasant shiver down his spine, but it’s closely followed by the realisation that this won’t be forever. Shouta will be swapped back into an adult and they’ll cease to be friends. Hitoshi vows to make each moment with him count; sure he’ll never be able to let the now younger man in on how he feels, but if all he can have is a friendship, he’ll gladly take it.
One of the things that comes with being a teenager again is being able to see the kids you once called your students in a different light. When Shouta see’s the frustration on Izuku’s face when he can’t use the full force of his quirk, he suddenly understands just how it feels to know what you’re capable of, but to have your own strength just out of your reach. He gets why Katsuki is so angry when he’s told to leave it to the Pro’s, feeling belittled, like he’s just some idiot with a quirk sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong, and not a hero in training. He gets his grades back for the first time in over 15 years and finds himself ranking near the bottom, as he usually did, and when his classmates tease him on his apparent lack of intelligence, Denki sends him a reassuring glance and a small pat on the back as he walks past to talk with their teacher.
The biggest realisation is just how well Hitoshi fits into his life. If he were alive when Shouta was last in UA, they certainly would have been friends. Hitoshi shows him all the shops that serve, takes him to new, non rooftop hiding corners, keeps him company during training, trusts him for quirk training, teaches him how to trust his feet when the ground is far below you and a capture weapon isn’t safely wrapped around your neck. Hitoshi gets him on a level that no other person has.
It makes sense that he’d fall for the boy with wild mauve hair.
It must come with the lack of age, seeing him in a new perspective. Hitoshi is everything he’s wanted, and while he never felt this way towards the boy when he was an adult, they’re on an equal level now.
When Hitoshi uses the lit end of Shouta’s cigarette to light his own, the black haired man begins to hope he’d take them away and kiss him. When Hitoshi takes him to these hidden corners, takes him on journeys around the cities he already knows, their hands always seem to find each other, and for a moment, he’ll let himself squeeze a little tighter, not realising that Hitoshi is squeezing back. When Hitoshi wants to show him new music, Shouta uses the headphones they share as an excuse to get closer, only just catching the way Hitoshi’s hand hovers near his waist, slowly settling to the ground.
He’s in deep, certain his feelings are one sided. When he gets to be an adult again, he’ll have to do his best to not think those thoughts anymore.
There’s a bittersweet pain the day Shouta is called out of class, a few months since he was hit with that civilian’s quirk, and he stands still as he learns Nagihiko can swap them back. There are limits to being a teen, and Shouta does miss the freedom adulthood allowed, but his voice shows hesitation when he expresses his thanks, so they give him a week to mull it over. Mineta doesn’t mind whatever happens, so it’s down to Shouta to make the call. No pressure then.
He bitterly informs his new classmates that he has the opportunity to be ‘himself’ again (whatever that means) and the majority of them express happiness for him. Sure, they’ll miss their new classmate, but Aizawa Sensei will be back.
When Hitoshi finds out that Shouta has the choice to become an adult again, to rejoin the current hero society and no longer be held back, he has a selfish thought.
He wants Shouta to stay as he is.
He wants to be able to confess his feelings to the boy he loves now, hold his hand as they walk around campus, fall asleep with him in the common room, grow up with him, but he's certain he won't be able to. Shouta wanted to be an adult again. Then, a sick thought entered his mind; What if he didn’t care. What if he confessed, Shouta reciprocated, but still became an adult? In some deep, twisted part of his mind, Hitoshi hoped he wouldn’t care for how young he was, but he knew, as skewed as his former mentor’s morals were, their gap was too large to be swept under the rug, that he wouldn’t want to be with someone as young as him.
If he were older, it wouldn’t be weird, but he knows that at 17, he’s not got a say in what his heart wants. But now, they’re on equal ground. Now, his heart gets a say.
And it screams.
He decides to invite Shouta for a day out. A last hurrah to being a teen. They’ll have fun and laugh, Shouta will look radiant in the setting sun as Hitoshi confesses, and his mentor will let him down gently and thank him for being a friend, then on monday, he’ll go to class and greet him as Sensei.
When they meet in the dorm lobby for their day out, Shouta looks so happy, dressed in the jumper he leant at one of Yagi’s famous barbeques that he swore Shouta promised to give back. He never knew how the erasure hero (in training) would wear it almost every night, breathing in the tobacco, patchouli and black pepper smell that clung on. The converse were gifted by Denki, a worn in purple pair, accented by black soles and laces, and a pair of blue skinny jeans that hugged all the right places. Hitoshi fiddles with the bottom of his denim jacket, looking at his worn in docs, doing anything he can to not look Shouta directly in the eyes.
“You ready to go then?” the boy in question asks, easily bringing Hitoshi into focus. Oh no, he can’t do this. Shouta looks absolutely beautiful, he’s not supposed to think of him this way.
“Sure! You got everything? Wallet, phone, spare charger, backpack?”
“Yeah. You got a lighter? Sero borrowed mine and hasn’t handed it back yet.”
Hitoshi nods, and with that, they set off.
Their late morning start turns to a late evening, yet the summer sky is still painted blue as Hitoshi and Shouta settle near a river after a day of cat cafes, arcades with UFO machines, subpar sushi and laughs. The grass has a slight dew from the wind earlier, which caught the river and sprayed the grass mildly, but it's nothing unpleasant as they sit down. As he glances up, Hitoshi knows this is the moment. This is when he’ll finally tell Shouta how he feels.
“Do you remember why you started training me?” Hitoshi asks, staring at the blue sky above, “You came to see one of the general studies training lessons, you couldn’t keep your eyes off me.”
He reminisces on how they first unofficially met, when his strength was small but his hopes seemed attainable.
“I caught your attention and once you looked at me, I didn’t want you to look away.”
Shota also turns to the sky, remembering the scrawny untrained boy who stalked him to his office.
**
"I want you to train me.” Hitoshi asked, staring at a seemingly uncaring man,
“How did you get in my office, Gen Ed?” the man replied, avoiding his name to feign disinterest,
“It’s Hitoshi, and that’s just one reason why you should train me. It’s not exactly easy to find your ‘personal office’, especially when it’s not officially yours.”
Eraserhead surveys the kid in front of him, knowing everything he can readily know. Hitoshi Shinsou, General Studies, brainwashing quirk, dead parents, lives with his uncle, failed the practical exam, excelled in the written exam, lies about his quirks limits to not scare people, has the same spark that got Shota into the Hero course. But a spark wouldn’t automatically mean success. He really has to test the boy, see if it’s just talk, or if he plans to put in the effort.
“Why should I train a general studies student? I already have a class of problem children, do you really think I have enough time to waste on one more?”
He looks at the purple eyes in front of him, showing no signs of faltering, “You have an hour and a half between lessons and patrol, you have 6 hours on Sundays you use to go to the cat cafe near my home; You have time, you just don’t want to give it away.”
The kid steps forward, “I’ll make you give it to me. I’ll wait at Gym Gamma every day you’re free until you show up. No matter what.”
Just as he entered, he exits without a sound, and true to his words he waits at gym gamma. Eraserhead watches for one week, waiting to see if he breaks, if Shinsou gives up and goes home, but come Sunday, he's still waiting at UA, homework discarded on the ground as he runs around one of the smaller training terrains.
"I know you've been watching me," he shouts, jumping on a high beam and running,
“And I’m not giving up on you. I know you see promise in me. Train me, teach me. If you don't, I'll still be a hero, but I'm sure it's considered illegal to perform heroic acts without a licence."
Not that he can see it from such a height, but Eraserhead knows that comment came with a snide smirk, and despite previous mental comments, it's not like this kid came to him with nothing to work on. He's been practicing his quirk with his classmates, and as shown by the way he jumps from beam to beam, knows a good amount of parkour. He takes a moment to consider it, and clears his throat,
"You're training on an empty stomach, if you can catch this jelly pack, I'll consider training you."
**
Hitoshi sits up, turns to Shota and sighs, but the same spark from then lights up his eyes as he speaks, finally saying what he’s held in for all these months, words once whispered to no one in the dead of night, “Grow up with me. I’ve spent too long being told I can’t! I can’t have a normal family, I can’t have a shot at being a hero, I can’t be anything but a villain! I can’t! I CAN’T!....I can’t have you. I want you, but I can’t have you!”
Shota looks at galactic eyes, shining through pinprick tears in the now setting sunlight.
“But now...now I have the chance to be a hero, now I have a family, now I'm seen as a hero, now I have a chance. If you want me, I can love you. And it’s selfish, I know, but I want it more than anything!”
Shouta freezes. So Hitoshi had loved him all this time? How long have they been dancing around their shared emotions for? As hurtful as it is to know they could have been each other’s for all this time, there’s something innocent about how the other had waited until the right moment to be honest with his feelings.
“Do you want me more than you want to be a hero?”
“Maybe not more than. As much as.”
Hitoshi looks like he’s breaking as he says, “I want you.”
Shota finally makes his mind up. Screw respect, screw freedom, screw being an adult, he’ll get that all again soon. Right now? He wants to follow his heart. He’s been on edge for so long, but hearing Hitoshi pour his heart out, he feels a tug pulling his heart away from that edge, and it draws him nearer to the boy who stole his affections.
There’s a brief moment where the world seems to stop. The fading daylight illuminates behind Hitoshi, a golden halo pouring over a mess of mauve hair. Silence punctuates the air as they come to terms with their emotions.
Hitoshi cups one side of his face, and it takes Shouta all his strength to not nuzzle into his hand like a kitten starved of touch, to not sigh so quietly it almost sounds like a purr. Sable eyes sharply glance at Hitoshi’s lips, and he watches as Shouta lets the tension in his heart seep out. The distance between their bodies draws nearer, and soon their lips are ghosting over one anothers,
“I want you too.” Shouta whispers as he brings them together.
The tastes of tobacco and pink monster, marred with the honey mint chapstick Hitoshi wears dances over their lips. Shouta once heard Hizashi describe your first kiss with someone you love as an explosion of fireworks, but up until now, he never really understood what he meant; Sure, he felt ‘the spark’ with others, but this felt like a pyrotechnic spectacle.
They fall into the grass, and Shota cards his fingers through loose lavender toned waves. Hitoshi kisses desperately, as if this would be his only chance to have the boy he's craved for so long. They try to stay attached for as long as possible, worried it could all disappear if they break for air. As one hand grabs onto purple locks of hair, the other grabs at the fabric over Hitoshi’s heart. He feels a hand grab the hair at the bottom of his head, a hand at the middle of his back, pulling him despite the need for air.
They lose their breath and lose themselves in each other, finally parting with lips swollen and pink. Foreheads connect, and once they’re recovered, Shota hears the sweetest laugh he’s ever heard. Hitoshi is teary eyed and laughing, a small dusting of pink covering the high points of his face, and despite how dark the bags underneath are, when he opens his eyes, they’re brighter than any star.