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It was never unusual for Class 1-A to get into internal debates whenever left to their own devices.
Shouta had only been teaching the class for a few weeks, but it hardly came as a surprise anymore.
As soon as he dismissed them for free work in the classroom, one way or another, there would be comments made and before he knew it the entire class would be chattering away and debating some topic or other.
Currently, the teenagers were discussing the pros and cons of a pro hero being married in their ethic class period - a topic that had popped up in light of a recent news announcement about a popular pro-hero taking a hiatus for their honeymoon.
It was Ashido who had brought it up, starting the conversation between just herself and Hagakure, but eventually the others began inserting their own opinions.
“It’s so cute though! Did you see the wedding photos that they published?” Ashido asked as she twirled her pencil deftly.
“I didn’t even know they were getting married until I saw that article!” Hagakure answered, her hands waving enthusiastically.
Kaminari tilted his head at them from his desk with a grin, “Did you guys recognize her wife though? She used to be a pro-hero too!”
“Wait, no way!” Sato leaned over the blonde boy’s shoulder, “I’ve never seen her before?”
“Ah, that’s probably cause she never made it far beyond her rookie career,” Midoriya cut in, a light blush dusting his cheeks when the others turned to him, “Er- I recognized her too.”
“Why didn’t she make it further?” Uraraka asked as she gave the freckled boy a confused frown.
“Erm, I think there were issues with her hero agency. She sued them before she dropped out of the spotlight… I guess whatever happened was bad enough that she didn’t want to stay in the hero business.” Midoriya rubbed the back of his neck, an anxious trait that was already familiar.
“Ah, yes! I remember my brother telling me about that incident!” Iida exclaimed a notch above the others’ volume, raising one flat-palmed hand, “He knew her from his own rookie days! She’s living a regular civilian life nowadays...”
“I guess she has the experience of a pro, but I don’t think I’ve heard of many pros who married normal civilians… most of them are either loners like Best Jeanist or date in their pro circles like Mt. Lady and Kamui Woods.” Midoriya looked genuinely thoughtful, his fingers absentmindedly straying toward his notebook.
“I heard about a pro-hero whose spouse got kidnapped one time on the news…” Jirou frowned and furrowed her brows, “They had to let other heroes handle the case because the hero was too close to the victim.”
“Oh! Did they find the spouse?” Yaoyorozu got involved as well, leaning forward over her desk as Shouta felt a vein in his forehead pulse.
Couldn’t they change the subject?
“I think they did after a few days, but it kinda makes you think, you know? Like… what happens when I wanna get married?” Ashido piped up as she gave the dark-haired girl a look with pursed lips.
“Ch,” Bakugou scoffed and leaned back in his chair, “That’s why you should marry another pro, then your spouse would be able to protect themselves.”
Unable to sit by idle any longer, the erasure hero cleared his throat and stood from where he had been slouched at his desk in the front corner of the classroom.
“Don’t be naive,” Shouta cut into the students’ conversation with a harsh glare, “Marrying another pro could mean placing twice the targets on your home, it could mean twice the enemies- have you thought of that?”
The crimson eyed boy fell silent and the class along with him, the majority of them turning to stare at their teacher in shock.
With the relatively constant grouching and monotone explanations, Aizawa didn’t have many passionate outbursts and he certainly wasn’t usually the type to cut into conversations.
He frowned at them as his eyes trailed across the room before he sighed, “These are realities you need to face as rising heroes. It’s things I wish someone would have said to me before going pro.”
Midoriya’s hand popped up and Aizawa sighed before he nodded at him, “Forgive me Aizawa-sensei, but you’re an underground hero so wouldn’t your personal life be safe?”
Aizawa clicked his tongue as he resigned himself to explaining the subject further, knowing he owed his students that much, “Yes, I am, but I wasn’t in the beginning. I still wasn’t friendly with the press, but I didn’t mind attention.”
“And...” He stared into the faces of Class 1-A, at their open and innocent curiosity and their young, hopeful eyes.
He knew he was getting soft, letting himself delve this much into his personal life as a teacher, and while it was partly because he felt an unnerving connection with the class of young heroes, he also had his suspicions that it was because his own adopted son was now the same age as the trainees in the room in front of him.
Hitoshi had asked him all of the same questions with the same unfettered curiosity, so many years ago.
“And my partner chose to go with an even more public hero role. They didn’t hide their identity nearly as much as I did and they didn’t shy away from the spotlight, mostly for career motives.” He paused as he tried to think of his next words, remembering how young he and Hizashi had been at that time.
How caught up they’d been in their rookie careers.
Hizashi, with his dreams of balancing a career as a loved hero and an adored radio host and Shouta with his underground investigations, determined to take down the villain underworld one case at a time.
Hizashi, who had been the life of every party and the constant buzz of energy in Shouta’s life.
The long nights when all they’d had to fuel them was cheap coffee and Hizashi singing along to his obnoxious playlists.
The early mornings when he would wake up to Hizashi’s lilting hum drifting into the bedroom door from their tiny kitchen.
He snapped back to reality to hear the murmurs of shock through the class as the students exchanged looks of confusion.
“Aizawa-sensei, you’re married?!” Ashido repeated loudly as though she couldn’t believe her ears.
“Sir?” In the back row Yaoyorozu looked concerned but curious, one elegant eyebrow arched, “Are you saying your spouse is also a pro hero? A famous one?”
His lips twisted with contempt and he ignored the tightness in his chest.
Famous...
Hizashi could have been famous.
Everyone would have loved Present Mic.
He wanted to scoff at himself, all these years and the thought still twisted him up inside with pain and regret.
He answered finally, “My spouse was a pro-hero... he is retired from hero work.”
“He?” Kirishima’s eyebrows rose in surprise, a familiar sparkle in his eyes that gave Shouta pause.
“Retired?” Jirou’s voice held the surprise that was written over the other teens’ faces.
“Yes, he’s retired.” Shouta said as he eyed his students’ shocked faces, “Since he was a public pro-hero and I didn’t avoid the media, there were villains who knew of our connection… and early in our hero careers, we were the victims of a revenge attack.”
The teens’ eyes widened even further as he barrelled onward, “It was no accident, we were targeted because of our hero work, because we had been sighted together and there were… speculations about our relationship. In the resulting struggle, my husband sustained an injury that resulted in the loss of his quirk.”
He swallowed around the lump in his throat, amazed that it hadn’t resulted in a tremble in his voice. All these years later, and it still hurt just to allude to that night...
“He lost his quirk?!” Sero burst out, his lips parted in shock and pulled down into a frown.
Tokoyami looked horrified, “I-I’ve never considered what I would do if I lost my quirk...”
“I never even considered the possibility.” Ojiro agreed, his hand covering his mouth and his tail twitching as his eyebrows furrowed.
“Most people don’t,” Aizawa said slowly, raising a hand to silence the teens’ scared murmurs, “It happens so rarely and usually in such freak accidents that it’s not something any hero prepares for.”
“Then what... what does he do now?” Sero had never looked quite as young and vulnerable as he did in that moment with the question on his lips, “... If his hero career was taken from him…?”
They were interrupted by All Might slamming open the entrance door as he had a tendency to do, his usual boisterous greeting dying on his lips when he was met with the still shell-shocked faces of the first years and the erasure hero’s harsh glare.
Shouta, unconcerned and deciding that he had shared enough, gathered the folders holding the classwork for the day and began to head towards the door.
“Wait, Sensei!” Asui’s voice made him pause in his exit, turning to look back at his class, “Kero, can you tell us what your spouse’s hero name was? Would we have heard of him?”
“Spouse?” Toshinori perked up with raised eyebrows, “Aizawa-san, I didn’t know you were married!?”
“Most people don’t, that was the point of this conversation.” Shouta answered disinterestedly, “And no, you won’t have heard of him. End of discussion.”
They wouldn’t have had the chance to, and in the resulting stunned silence he simply slipped out of the classroom and sauntered down the hallway, lost in his own thoughts.
When he entered the teacher’s lounge, he felt like there were sandbags sitting on his chest.
He had never talked about Hizashi with a class before, never brought up his marriage or his husband’s untimely retirement.
He had long gotten over the paranoia that he’d suffered from in the beginning.
Those first few weeks after the attack he’d wanted nothing more than to bundle Hizashi in a blanket and confine him to Nemuri’s futon in her apartment, the place where they’d stayed until finding a new apartment since their own had been turned into a crime scene.
He had wanted to erase any knowledge that anyone had of his then boyfriend, wanted to hide him away from the world and protect him from ever getting hurt again.
And even though it had been years since he’d been that bad, he still couldn’t talk about that night aside from vaguely referring to the attack.
An attack... a violation... the villain that had almost taken everything from him...
He could picture it vividly when he closed his eyes, the fear in Hizashi’s emerald green eyes, the blood drenching his hands...
He shook himself and shuddered just barely, trying to expel the thoughts from his mind as he discarded his files onto his desk and turned to the desk neighboring his own.
“Nemuri,” He called in a hushed tone, shuffling up to the woman’s desk and plopping down onto the empty chair beside it, “Talk to me.”
The dark-haired woman’s eyebrow twitched in a knowing way before she reached out and tapped her long nails along his slumped shoulders, “Did I tell you about the interview panel I did last week with Mt. Lady?”
Shouta hummed noncommittally and drew in a slow, deep breath as he blinked.
He didn’t have to answer the question for Nemuri to launch into an enthusiastic story, her familiar dulcet tones washing over him like a comforting blanket.
He couldn’t be sure how long she talked for before he cleared his throat and shifted in the seat, snapped back into the present like an overstretched rubber band.
Her fingers were still rubbing rhythmic circles on his shoulder, grounding him.
“-I mean, the audacity this chick has... still though, it’s a little attractive.” Nemuri’s tone was light with amusement when Shouta, ripped away from the static in his brain, sputtered.
“Isn’t she at least seven years younger than us?” Shouta asked incredulously, narrowing his eyes at Nemuri’s wicked grin.
The R-rated hero practically purred as she smirked at him, “Oh Shouta, we both know I’m seven years younger at heart.”
“Aizawa-san!” They both startled as Toshinori burst into the teacher’s lounge, his energy radiating into the room in a way that only the number one hero was capable of, “I have returned for lunch since Class 1-A has gone to Lunch Rush!”
No sooner had the door to the teacher’s lounge swung shut behind him did his muscular form disappear in an audible puff of smoke, revealing a familiar scrawny figure clad in an oversized suit.
Aizawa rolled his eyes and ignored the blonde hero’s boisterousness, instead simply grunting to acknowledge his arrival as Nemuri’s hand paused on his shoulder.
“May I join you?” Toshinori asked, stepping closer as he nervously tapped his fingers against his bento box of soft foods.
Aizawa grunted again without looking up, thankful that Nemuri was quick to pick up where he was lacking, “Of course, Toshinori-sama! You can pull a chair over.”
“Ah, I’m alright with standing,” Toshinori reassured her as he set his bento on the corner of her desk and shuffled a bit closer.
“So, to what do we owe the pleasure of the number one hero joining us for lunch?” Nemuri asked in a jokingly jovial tone, her gaze soft as she eyed the tall blonde.
Toshinori shifted and tried to quirk his lips into a smile, “I… suppose in light of recent conversations, I realized I don’t know my coworkers as well as I thought I did.”
“Ya gotta stop skipping our outings to go out on rescue missions,” Snipe piped up from his desk, his large boots propped up in front of him as he fiddled with his mask, “Someone else can take care of the low-hangin’ fruit.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Toshinori looked sheepish, as he always got when someone mentioned him overworking.
“Hey, Shouta doesn’t even go to half of those - I’m actually convinced that he intentionally schedules his patrols to conflict so he doesn’t have to hang out with us,” Nemuri cut in before Toshinori could begin nervously rambling apologies.
She nudged her foot against Shouta’s and he grunted, “You just have bad timing.”
“Bad timing all the time?” Nemuri fired back, raising an amused eyebrow at him and giving him the kind of attitude that only she could get away with after years of familiarity.
“At least Yamada-san shows up half the time that Eraser skips,” Snipe said as he leaned back in his desk chair, “Hell, I kinda prefer his company - he always notices when I get new spurs.”
“Ah! Yamada-sama will join us next weekend, yes? I was hoping to show him pictures of my new plant wall…” Thirteen interjected from the other side of the room, nervously wringing their hands.
“You know he likes when you guys call him Hizashi,” Shouta said with a faint eye roll, ignoring the vague warmth spreading in his chest as he listened to his coworkers talk about his husband.
“Yamada… that’s your husband, I take it?” Toshinori asked quietly, blinking at the erasure hero.
Shouta inhaled slowly through his nose before he nodded, “That’s right.”
“They were high school sweethearts,” Nemuri leaned over and slung a playful arm around Shouta’s shoulders, “I know it's hard to picture because of Shouta’s prickly exterior, but they’re sickeningly sweet together.”
“He makes Eraser look like a big softie,” Snipe confirmed with an amused chuckle that only grew in volume when Shouta shot him a threatening glare with little heat behind it.
“Ah, that is a bit hard to picture,” Toshinori said with a curious smile, “I’m sure your students would be enamored by it - romance seemed to the topic for discussion today!”
“Oh, were they talking about those newly weds?” Nemuri asked with genuine curiosity, turning slightly in her chair.
Toshinori chuckled and nodded, “Yes, yes, they even started pulling up the article on their phones when they found out Bakugou-kun hadn’t seen the pictures - not that he was particularly interested.”
“I can’t believe they agreed to let that magazine do a photoshoot - especially since her wife is a civilian.” Snipe commented idly with a tap to his chin.
Thirteen nodded, “It is rather surprising, most pro-hero couples don’t even like to be featured together.”
“I know Takeyama and Nishiya certainly try to keep their relationship out of the spotlight - she was dodging questions left and right during our interview.” Nemuri said thoughtfully with a slight frown, “I almost felt bad enough to interrupt.”
“I don’t see why heroes should be afraid of a little press attention, it’s good for the younger generation to have role models.” Toshinori tilted his head to the side, his lips quirking downward into a frown.
Shouta felt his teeth grind together as he tried to push away the urge to scowl at the older man, “Speculation on the part of the public, and the media, is dangerous for heroes. It gets in the way of us doing our jobs.”
“Well, I suppose I can see that,” Toshinori conceded, before he continued, “I just think that there’s no harm in it as long as the heroes themselves don’t mind.”
“Ah, maybe we should change the topic-” Nemuri began to cut in, her voice edging on discomfort as her gaze shot over to Shouta’s tense shoulders.
But he snapped before she could derail the conversation further, “Sometimes the heroes in question don’t know that it’s something they need to be worried about - our personal lives should never be subject to the limelight. Ever.”
“Ah-” Toshinori looked partially shocked as Shouta stood from his seat and began stalking toward the door, ignoring the way his other coworkers had pointedly looked away, “I didn’t mean to offend you, Ai-”
“Best to let him go,” Nemuri softly interjected, standing as well and reaching out to grasp the older man by the arm, “You see, Aizawa’s past with the media hasn’t been pretty-”
Shouta ignored the rest as the door to the teacher’s lounge closed behind him with a solid ‘thunk!’ and his friend’s voice grew muffled, instead heading back toward 1-A’s classroom.
He sighed as he resolved himself to thoughts about going home, about comforting warmth and a home-cooked meal. He let the tension bleed out of his shoulders as he continued down the hallway, biting his lip lightly.
He felt the slightest bit guilty… it wasn’t All Might’s fault that he knew nothing of Shouta’s past. Still, he hated when other heroes couldn’t see the dangers lurking behind the cameras.
Though, with a solemn drop in his heart the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he’d never truly seen All Might pictured with anyone - even other heroes.
The older man had never really had any personal connections, as far as the media had found.
Swallowing guiltily he realized there was probably a reason why Toshinori didn’t conceptualize the dangers that Shouta did… unless he was exceptionally good at hiding personal connections.
He sighed, realizing he likely owed it to the number one hero to be a little more understanding in the future.
And maybe… even a little more welcoming.
When they watched Aizawa being carted away on a stretcher to a waiting ambulance outside of the USJ, the students of Class 1-A knew they had to follow.
“You all should go home to your parents,” Midnight scolded them after Kaminari begged her to tell them which hospital their homeroom teacher was being taken to, “They’re probably worried sick about you!”
“But we can text and call them, Kayama-sensei!” Kirishima cut in from over Kaminari’s shoulder, “And anyone who doesn’t have a cell phone can borrow mine! We just...”
“We need to know that Aizawa-sensei is going to make it... he risked his life for us.” Shoji mumbled with a desperate look in his eyes that had Midnight’s harsh expression melting.
She gave a resigned sigh and placed her hands on her hips, “Alright, I suppose you can accompany me there. We can wait for news together.”
Getting the group of teens to the hospital was even more of a hassle.
Anyone who needed to had already been checked for injuries on the scene and paramedics had administered first aid, so Principal Nezu seemed surprised when they requested for the buses to take them to the hospital.
“Sir, please,” Iida was, unsurprisingly, the one to take on the task of explaining, “We want to make sure that Aizawa-sensei and Thirteen-sensei are alright.”
“We can get rides home from the hospital!” Yaoyorozu reassured the small furry principal, “And anyone who needs a ride can get one from me… please, sir.”
Nezu appeared to not be shocked in the slightest, blinking beady eyes up at them before he turned to Midnight, “You will accompany them as a chaperone, yes? Perhaps you should take Vlad or Snipe with you.”
“Of course, Nezu-sama.” Midnight ducked her head respectfully, and then glanced over to Vlad who was already giving her a nod, “Will you be accompanying us as well?”
The principal made a soft noise of regret, “I wish I could, but I need to go to the police station with Tsukauchi-san and Toshinori-san to go over a few things. You’ll call me with updates as soon as you have news, yes?”
“Of course,” Vlad stepped in and nodded with reassurance as he gestured for the teens to begin making their way to the bus, “We’ll be in touch.”
Arriving at the hospital was mostly surreal to all of them.
Yaoyorozu looked saddened as they shuffled into the waiting room and Jirou was sticking close to her side.
Kaminari and Kirishima had taken to sharing a chair so as to leave other spots open to their classmates while Sero huddled onto the floor at their feet and pressed his back against their shins.
A few students elected to stand, like Todoroki and Tokoyami, and others like Iida, Midoriya, and Sato were pacing restlessly.
“Excuse me?” Midnight tapped the desk in front of the nurse and Midoriya turned to listen in from where he had paused at the entrance to the waiting room, “I was wondering if you could tell me if pro-hero Eraserhead’s emergency contact has been called? Legal name is Aizawa Shouta.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, I can’t share that information with you unless you’re family.” The nurse answered with an empathetic smile.
Midnight nodded and thanked her anyways, turning and catching Midoriya’s gaze who startled at the worry in her eyes.
She placed a hand on his shoulder and guided him back toward the waiting room where the rest of the class was crammed, “Don’t worry, Midoriya-kun, I’m just checking in.”
“Uhm...” He shuffled next to her nervously, “Is Aizawa-sensei’s emergency contact his husband? The ex-pro-hero?”
The murmurings of the class died down at his question and Midnight found herself under the gaze of several curious stares.
“Aizawa told you about his marriage?” She asked, her shock clear in her tone.
“We had a discussion about pro-hero marriages a few days ago in ethics class,” Tokoyami spoke up from where he was leaning against one of the stiff chairs where Shoji was seated, “Aizawa-sensei told us that he chose to be an underground hero because of something that happened to his spouse.”
“Ah,” Her eyes were soft and pained behind her red-rimmed glasses as she nodded, “Goodness, I knew he was favoring you all, but that’s... hm...”
“He’s never told any of his other classes about his marriage?” Jirou asked with wide eyes as the other students exchanged equally surprised expressions.
Midnight gave them a small smile, “Aizawa has always been private about his family. You all can understand since he told you about what happened.”
“Right, he told us they were attacked and his husband lost his quirk.” Midoriya said quietly, looking down, “The detective, he said that... Aizawa-sensei could lose his sight... if he does, he’d lose his quirk as well.”
“Let’s not think that way,” Midnight said quickly as she shook her head, “We have to hope for the best.”
Before she could continue there was a commotion from the hospital entrance that had them all leaning forward to see what was going on.
Two figures rushed in through the automatic doors, one of them grasping a backpack that was half open and haphazardly packed with notebooks and the other only holding car keys and a phone.
The man was tall with long, golden-blonde hair thrown into a messy bun that was half falling down. His features were slim and almost elven, a thin nose and sharp jawline that was only enunciated by his effervescent green eyes behind a pair of square-rimmed glasses.
The boy by his side was dressed in a grey UA school uniform, though none of the students from Class 1-A recognized his shock of purple hair and tired looking eyes.
Both were wearing vaguely frantic expressions as they approached the front desk, the boy reaching it before the blonde man did. Just as he was opening his mouth to speak, Midnight stepped away from the class and raised a hand, “Aizawas!”
Both figures whirled around to meet her gaze with wide eyes and the blonde changed course immediately, practically jogging over to them.
To the students’ shock he immediately caught Midnight by the shoulders, pulling her into a hug before he seemed to get distracted and pushed her away again.
His eyes raked over her face and she gave him a sad smile, “I’m okay, Hizashi, no injuries on me or the other staff, thankfully.”
The blonde nodded with a huffed breath before he raised his hands and flipped them through a series of unrecognizable gestures that had Kouda’s eyes lighting up.
“Slow down, Zashi, you’re signing too fast.” She said with a bit of a helpless tone that they had never heard her use before and the blonde grimaced apologetically.
“Oba-san,” The purple-haired boy grasped the blonde man by the elbow to stop his hand movements, “How is he? How bad was it?”
Their eyes were desperate, filled with a deep-seated fear and Uraraka raised a hand to her mouth as her eyes widened slightly.
“Oba-san?” She repeated quietly as she shot Midoriya a look.
The green-haired boy simply shrugged in equal confusion.
“He’s in surgery right now, that’s... that’s all they’ll tell me. I’m sorry.” Midnight placed a hand on each of their shoulders and frowned sympathetically.
“What happened?” The purple-haired boy asked as the blonde man turned his gaze to the ground, “Principal Nezu said there was a villain attack at the USJ?”
At the hitch in the boy’s voice the blonde man pulled his elbow out of the other’s grasp and slipped his arm around the boy’s shoulder comfortingly. The boy subtly leaned into the embrace, though his frown remained.
“There was an organized attack by a group calling themselves the League of Villains,” Midnight explained, her tone hushed to avoid being overheard by the hospital staff and other visitors bustling around, “They were after All Might, but he wasn’t able to attend the class. Shouta subbed in for him... he held the villains off until help arrived.”
The blonde’s vivid green eyes were wide as he shakily raised his hands and flipped through another series of motions.
Midnight watched his hands intently before speaking, “No, he wasn’t alone. Thirteen was with him, but he put them in charge of the students’ evacuation. He... he fought the majority of the villains alone.”
The blonde waved more signs at the teacher again with a pinched expression and Midnight sighed, “Dozens, we... we haven’t had a full arrest count yet and a handful escaped.”
The purple-haired boy gave a shuddering sigh as he lowered his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Shit...”
“Hey,” Midnight squeezed his shoulder faintly, “Shouta is a stubborn bastard, he’ll pull through this.”
The blonde nodded along with her words and jostled the boy’s shoulders lightly before he turned his gaze past Midnight and met the gaze of the other twenty-odd teenagers waiting behind her.
His eye twitched and he poked at Midnight’s shoulder hard.
She looked up at him and he pointed to the students before signing rapidly and then pointing at his ears.
Midnight tilted her head and looked to the purple-haired boy who rolled his shoulders, “He says watch your mouth when there are students around… Tou-san would scold you.”
Midnight rolled her eyes, but she stepped to the side to turn halfway toward the students, “I suppose this is as good a time as any to introduce you, although I’m sure Eraser won’t be happy about it. This is Class 1-A.”
The students perked up and gave tentative smiles, though a few like Todoroki and Bakugou simply regarded the two with blank expressions.
“1-A, this is Eraser’s husband, Hizashi-san, and their son, Hitoshi-kun.” Midnight gave them a death glare as if to say ‘be polite or I’ll put you to sleep on this tile floor and leave you there.’
“It’s nice to meet you!” Uraraka spoke up first with a tentative smile, rising from her seat to bow respectfully.
The blonde man, Hizashi as they’d heard Midnight introduce him, smiled at her softly and shifted his body to partly face his son, Hitoshi.
He signed a series of things that the purple-haired boy translated to the class.
“He says it’s nice to meet you all as well. We’ve heard a lot about 1-A from my Dad.” Hitoshi seemed closed off, his tone steady but unemotional as he met the gazes of the other UA students.
Now that he had turned to them fully, they were shocked as their eyes were drawn to what had to be the most prominent feature on the blonde. He was dressed in casual, civilian clothes with a v-neck that left part of his muscled chest on display.
But what all of the teens found themselves staring at was the large scar that wrapped around the entire front of the blonde man’s throat.
The wound was clearly very old, the skin pale and only slightly raised, but still noticeable as its jagged path carved up the majority of the man’s neck.
He didn’t seem surprised or uncomfortable under their gazes as Yaoyorozu coughed quietly and muttered under her breath, “Staring is rude!”
After the briefest moment of uncomfortable silence, they suddenly processed the second piece of startling information - that the purple-haired teen standing at the blonde man’s side was their homeroom teacher’s son.
“You’re a first year as well, Hitoshi?” Kaminari spoke up, eyeing the purple-haired boy’s tie.
He shifted on his feet, “Yeah, but I’m in... general studies.”
His eyes flickered as he blinked at them, face remaining impassive even as the blonde man squeezed his shoulder lightly.
“That’s cool, man!” Kirishima gave him a slight smile, “You should join us for lunch sometime! I bet you’ve got lots of stories about Aizawa-sensei!”
“Right…” Hitoshi shifted on his feet again and pressed lightly against his father’s side, though the blonde looked vaguely pleased at the invitation.
“Family of Aizawa Shouta?” A nurse called politely as he peeked around the corner and gaped slightly at the number of people who perked up at the name.
Hizashi and Hitoshi stepped forward, the teen nodding slightly, “That’s us.”
“You can accompany me to see him now… the doctor will be with you shortly.” The nurse explained, gesturing for them to follow him down a long corridor.
Hizashi gently prodded his son’s back to push him forward, but he turned before he followed and signed something with a soft grin.
Midnight tilted her head as she watched them go, “He said it was nice meeting you all, and he’s sure you’ll see him again soon.”
1-A simply watched in quiet awe as their homeroom teacher’s husband disappeared from sight, their minds all lingering on the image of that ugly scar and Aizawa’s words from before.
Everything had felt like a blur since they had arrived at the hospital, hell, since Hizashi had picked him up from UA with that pained worry in his eyes.
Hitoshi watched numbly as his Dad’s leg twitched and the dark-haired man groaned from beneath the bandage hiding his face, feeling his heart stutter with relief at the sound from the man who had been still and silent for the past hour.
Hizashi startled in his seat and stood, pitching forward to rest both hands on the erasure hero’s thigh and squeezing three times rhythmically.
“Zashi?” Shouta’s voice was gruff and cracked, pitched into a strain as he clearly fought through the pain in his face to speak behind the bandages, “M’sorry, I wish I could- I can’t see-”
Hizashi shook his head with a pained smile, looking put out by his husband’s rambling.
Of course Shouta would be more worried about the fact that he couldn’t see Hizashi signing than the need to let his eyes heal; always so worried about others.
Hitoshi felt a pang in his heart as he looked down at the dark-haired man.
Hizashi met the gaze of his purple-haired son and signed, ‘Tell him not to be an idiot and that if he takes those bandages off before the doctor’s recommendations I’ll make him personally regret it.’
“Papa says don’t be stupid,” Hitoshi translated with a small smile as he rolled his eyes at the blonde, “In summary, at least. You can imagine the other things he threatened. The doc said your eyes will need to stay bandaged for at least a week or two.”
There was a muffled sound from beneath the myriad of bandages that might have been Shouta huffing a laugh before he shifted slightly toward his son’s voice, “Toshi, you’re here too then?”
“Yeah, Dad,” Hitoshi said quietly as he stepped closer to the bed and tapped his fingers along the blankets hard enough that the erasure hero could feel it, “I’m here...”
Another muffled sound like a shaky sigh beneath the bandages and then Shouta made a muffled noise of pain, “Sorry, I- I-“
Hizashi squeezed the thigh under his hand hard and effectively shut his husband up, staring intently at his bandaged face despite knowing that Shouta couldn’t see him.
He made a noise in his throat that was scratchy and wet, a sound that Hitoshi knew he only made when he was trying to clear his throat.
“Zashi, don’t-“ Shouta protested weakly, his complaint muffled heavily.
“Proud.” Hizashi said finally and Hitoshi felt goosebumps raise along his arms.
He steadied his hands on the side of the bed and looked up at his adoptive father.
He had been adopted by Shouta and Hizashi several years before he had even applied to UA’s General Studies program, though it was long after the incident that cost Hizashi his voice.
He knew limited details about the event, since both of his parents were always reluctant to talk about it.
He knew that only a few years into his Dads’ rookie hero careers a villain had attacked Hizashi in their home, and the resulting injury had stolen his voice and subsequently both of his careers from him.
It had changed his and Shouta’s lives forever.
They hadn’t even been engaged yet, Shouta saying that he had been waiting for the right moment and that the ring was in a box in the apartment the night of the attack.
Hizashi had gone through speech therapy a few times over the years, they told him, but he never managed to regain more than a few strained sounds and syllables.
However, if he tried extremely hard he could sometimes use the remnants of his quirk to help him speak in soft, raspy broken sentences. It left his throat sore and his body exhausted for several days following, so he saved it for rare occasions.
He had only spoken approximately four times since Hitoshi had met the two and been adopted by them, but every time he heard his bright, bubbly father speak it sent chills through his body.
“P’roud of you-“ He grated out in his breathy, weak voice - a shadow of the loud, melodic tone that Shouta had reminisced about before, “You did good. P-pr’tected them. You’re a h-hero, Shou.”
He squeezed Shouta’s thigh again on the last word, his face determined as he stared down at his injured husband and ignored the stuttered breath from his adopted son.
“He’s right,” Hitoshi jumped in before he could second-guess his own words, “You saved your entire class, Dad. It’s because of you that they’re all safe. What you did was... amazing.”
Shouta was quiet for a long moment before he shifted slightly under the blankets and tilted his bandaged head, “Thank you... both of you.”
“Mmm,” Hizashi hummed and loosened his grip to tap his fingers along the raven-haired man’s blanketed thigh, “L-lecture later.”
Hitoshi snorted and shook his head, “Yeah, if you don’t seriously rest up after this I will personally let Pops get in some cheap shots the next time we all practice together.”
Hizashi gave him a thumbs up with a grin and Hitoshi couldn’t help but smile back.
While Hizashi had his gaze he signed quickly, ‘Tell him his students are waiting to hear that he’s okay?’
“Ah,” Hitoshi nodded, “Some of the students from 1-A are here, they wanted to make sure that you were alright.”
Shouta gave a muffled, put-out groan, “Sh-should’ve gone home to their parents.”
‘Seriously. I’d flip shit if you didn’t come home after something like this.’ Hizashi signed as he gave a pointed look to their son who snorted.
“Mm?” Shouta knew well enough that his husband had likely signed something in response, but with the bandages it was impossible for him to see.
“Pops said he’d flip shit if I didn’t come home after an attack at school.” Hitoshi informed him with a grin knowing that the blonde was about to get scolded for cursing.
Sure enough Hizashi began to wave his hands comically as his husband shifted slightly and grunted, “Language, Zashi!”
‘Toshi is in high school now’ Hizashi signed with an exaggerated eye roll as he met his son’s eyes, ‘You’re going to hear way worse words than ‘shit’, trust me.’
“His excuse is that I’m in high school now.” Hitoshi shook his head, “Pops, don’t pretend you didn't use curse words in front of me in middle school too.”
Hizashi huffed and planted his hands on his hips with a scowl before he raised them again to sign, ‘Traitor.’
Hitoshi smiled at him innocently.
Shouta simply gave a defeated sigh and began to settle back into the pillows. Hitoshi exchanged a look with his Pops and nodded, “Tired, Dad?”
“Mmm,” Shouta hummed in response and began to relax as Hizashi rested both hands on his thigh and lowered himself into the chair by the bed.
Hizashi shot Hitoshi a soft smile as he raised his hands, ‘Favor?’
Hitoshi tilted his head in response and watched as his father continued signing, ‘Step out and update Nemuri and the kids?’
He nodded and tapped Shouta’s leg before stepping back, “I’m gonna go tell Aunt Kayama that your surgery went well. I’ll be back, Dad.”
Shouta merely hummed beneath the bandage in response before falling silent again as Hitoshi slipped out the door, leaving it cracked.
He felt uncomfortable under the scrutinizing gazes of Class 1-A.
He could understand that they were curious, since he was their homeroom teacher’s son, but he still hated being the center of attention.
He could assume they were all having the same thoughts - shocked that a proficient hero like Eraserhead had a son who was in general studies. It made Hitoshi want to bite the inside of his lip till he tasted blood.
After a brief reassurance and a hug from his aunt, he turned and headed back to his Dad’s hospital room, ignoring the muffled chaos that broke out as the heroics students began discussing their means of getting home.
At the doorway he paused, hearing muffled sounds from inside and wondering if he should wait, thinking at first that maybe the nurse had returned to check on his dad.
But then, he realized the voice from inside as his father’s familiar, gruff tone.
“-breathe for me, Zashi.” He heard Shouta’s calm but strained voice drift through the crack in the doorway.
He could hear Hizashi sucking in harsh breaths that bordered on hyperventilation, the pit of his stomach dropping.
He felt his heart stutter as he listened to his adoptive father struggle for air, the smallest whimper escaping his lips as he tried to calm his breathing.
“I’m s-sorry, I wish I could talk to you. I wish you could see me. I’m okay, I promise,” Even through the bandages, Shouta sounded incredibly tired, “You won’t lose me.”
Hitoshi peeked through the door and his throat felt tight as he watched Hizashi shake his head violently in refusal, still trying to stave off his own panic attack.
The blonde had bowed his head to press his forehead against Shouta’s thigh so the raven-haired man could at least interpret his head movements, simple yes or no answers born of a subconscious effort that came from years of being familiar with each other’s needs.
His hands were clutching at the blanket draped over Shouta’s thighs in a white-knuckled grip.
His breath hitched in a weak, quiet sob and he pressed his face harder into the dark-haired man’s side, “A-almost did…”
His scratchy voice was barely above a whisper, but it seemed to echo in the silence of the hospital room.
Hitoshi knew if he could have seen his Dad’s face, Shouta would look tortured by the prospect of not being able to comfort his husband with both of his arms and hands bound in the casts.
As it was, all he could do was talk calmly as Hizashi began to slowly take more even breaths.
“I’m not going anywhere, okay?” Shouta’s muffled voice was low and even, “I have you and Toshi to take care of, right?”
Hizashi whimpered against his thigh again and clung to his husband, burying his face in the blanket and trembling slightly.
Hitoshi swallowed around the lump in his throat and pushed into the room loudly enough to announce his presence.
After quietly shutting the door to allow his family more privacy, he carefully made his way around the side of the bed and bent forward to wrap his arms around his father’s shoulders.
Hizashi made a soft noise of acknowledgement as he reached up to take his son’s hand, pressing both of their hands against the erasure hero’s thigh in the only gesture of comfort that they could manage at the moment.
Shouta was quiet as the heart rate monitor’s beeping slowed and he succumbed to his exhaustion once again, Hitoshi and Hizashi staying close as they watched him rest.