Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He hurt, he was tired, he needed a minute, just a minute to catch his breath. He stood with his hands on his knees, chest heaving as he struggled to breathe. He had tried to ignore it, work past it, but it was clear as day.

Shinso was sick.

It wasn’t much of a surprise when he actually stepped back and thought about it. It was only a matter of time until his body started breaking down. Things have gotten rough at home again, to the point he didn’t quite feel safe staying there. He had considered reaching out to his case worker.

Shinso could put up with a lot. If he reached out to the case worker, she’d put him in a new home that was most likely further from the school. The only reason he put up with what he did was because of how close he was to UA. He was only a few blocks away at this foster home but the foster parents had started directing most of their violence towards him. This violence had resulted in injuries that hindered him during the Sports Festival. That had almost been the breaking point.

What stopped him? He had somehow managed to catch the attention of Eraserhead. With their trainings before or after school, he couldn’t risk moving further away. The foster parents seemed to love curfews. It would give them an excuse to lock him out.

Before he knew it, he was flat on his back in the dirt, eyes staring dazed at the blue sky above him. Everything hurt, everything ached. How had he gotten there?

“Hey,” A deep voice spoke as a dark figure leaned over him. Right, he was at practice. “What’s going on with you today?” Shinso blinked as he tried to catch his breath. He had been struggling to breathe, finding he was getting more and more congested as the day went on. Aizawa’s tone wasn’t accusatory and Shinso opened his mouth to answer. As he sucked in a breath, his eyes went wide and he threw his arm over his mouth before a nasty sounding cough shook him. Aizawa stepped back, hands in his pockets and sighing deeply as Shinso coughed. When the coughing subsided, he let Shinso lay there for a moment to catch his breath.

“Sorry,” Shinso rasped out. He started to push himself back up to his feet, but as he rose to stand, the world swayed and he staggered, steadied by heavy hands on his shoulders.

“I think we’re done for the day.” Aizawa said with a finality in his tone that made Shinso hesitate to argue. He nodded and the world spun again. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and groaned. Everything hurt. When he felt a hand on his forehead he flinched and opened his eyes again. Aizawa slowly dropped his hand and studied him. “We’re going to see Recovery Girl.”

“That’s not-“ Shinso tried to argue but Aizawa cut him off in his firm, calm tone.

“It wasn’t a request.” Shinso’s shoulders dropped and the fight left him. He followed the man to the edge of the field where their bags were. Aizawa dug around and pulled out a fresh water bottle. “Drink this while we walk.” He instructed before throwing his bag over his shoulder and picking up Shinso’s. It was a small bag and he wasn’t surprised to find it so light. He kept his pace slow but Shinso still trailed behind. Every so often he would glance over his shoulder to make sure the kid was still upright. He would find him, sipping his water and a protective arm around his torso. He hadn’t struck the kid hard enough to do any serious damage. Had something happened?

“Please remove your shirt.” She instructed and as Shinso unzipped his shirt, she stuck a thermometer in his mouth. He shrugged the jacket off, leaving him in his uniform pants and a tank top. Had he not been so tired and so sick, he would have been more worried about what was hiding under his shirt. However, Aizawa was leaning against the wall, eyes closed. No scrutinizing gaze to worry about. The thermometer beeped and recovery girl turned to him again. He noticed her pause for a moment before continuing and reaching for the thermometer. “I suppose these bruises are your work, Eraserhead?” She tsked and Shinso’s blood ran cold. Aizawa’s eyes opened and zeroed in on him. Shinso sat, frozen as Recovery Girl looked at the temperature. “Your temperature is too high to be just a cold. What other symptoms are you experiencing?” She asked, grabbing a pen and clipboard. Shinso’s purple eyes glanced to Aizawa for a minute before looking back at the healing hero. He cleared his throat.

“Aches.” He started, his voice sounding worse and worse by the hour. “Sore throat. Congested.”

“Any difficultly breathing?” She asked. “Coughing?”

“Yeah.” He watched as she set down her clipboard and neared him again, putting on her stethoscope. She grabbed for the collar of his tank top and before he could stop himself, his hand closed around her wrist. She quirked her eyebrows at him but didn’t say anything. After a tense moment he was able to release her. “Sorry.” He mumbled. He could feel Aizawa staring at him and tried to keep his attention anywhere else. His hands rested on his thighs, bunching the fabric of his pants in his tense fists. He was trying to stay calm. As she pulled the collar of his shirt down, it exposed more of the angry bruising. She hadn’t even listened to his breathing. She sat there, staring at the bruising for a moment before she released his shirt and took the buds out of her ears, letting the instrument rest around her neck.

“Remove your shirt, young man.” She instructed. When he hesitated, she spoke again. “I need to see the extent of your injuries.” Her tone was firm by nature, but now there was a tenseness to it. Slowly he grabbed his tank top and pulled it over his head, wincing as his ribs protested. He set the shirt on top of his uniform shirt and returned his hands to his thighs. He avoided looking at his teacher and settled for staring at Recovery Gir’s bun as she poked and prodded, probably checking for broken bones. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Aizawa had stepped closer, wanting a look at the bruises. Shinso could practically feel his eyes scanning him, taking in every detail. No doubt the man could make out the shapes of the boot that had kicked his chest.

“How old are these?” Aizawa asked, his tone still surprisingly calm.

“A few days, by the looks of it.” Recovery Girl stated. Shinso winced as she prodded along his floating ribs. “Am I to assume these bruises are not from school related activities?” Shinso met her gaze for a moment but provided no verbal answer. Instead he looked down at his hands. “Very well.” She stated and once more grabbed her stethoscope. The cold metal stung his chest. “Breathe in deep.” She instructed. As he did, it triggered another coughing fit and she gave him space, his arm covering his mouth. She waited patiently until the coughing faded. Shinso wheezed and tried to catch his breath.

“Where have you been sleeping?” Aizawa asked. Shinso’s eyes glanced up to him before returning to his fists.

“There’s an abandoned building about a block away from school.” He answered, knowing there wasn’t any use in lying to him.

“How long have you stayed there?” He asked. Shinso sighed, triggering another coughing fit. Aizawa waited patiently but crossed his arms. He was frustrated with himself. Had he missed the signs? How? He was a trained professional hero. He was literally trained for this shit.

“A few nights.” Shinso answered. “When they get this bad it’s typically a good idea to stay out of their way for a bit.”

“This has happened before?” Aizawa prompted. Shinso clenched his jaw. He’d shared too much. The damn fever was making him too careless.

“Will all this rain lately, it’s no surprise you’ve gotten yourself sick.” Recovery Girl chided. She pushed her chair over to her desk and began typing in her notes. “You’ve gotten yourself a case of bronchitis and I hope you understand I will have to document the bruises. Do you have any other injuries I should know about?” She asked him, staring him dead in the eyes and daring him to lie. Fortunately or unfortunately, his foster parents had been smarter. They knew better than to leave any permanent damage. It was rare they ever even left bruises. In this case, he hadn’t gotten out of their way fast enough.

“Are you sure?” Aizawa asked firmly. He had maintained his usual stern but calm tone, never once letting his anger slip through his tone.

“Yeah,” Shinso nodded. There was a brief moment of silence before he spoke again, his voice still hoarse from the coughing. “I know you have to document it, but do you have to report it?”

“Yes, we do.” Recovery Girl told him before turning her chair to face him. “You will be staying here for at least two weeks while you recover.”

“That’s not necessary.” Shinso said as he reached for his shirt.

“That’s not for you to decide.” She quipped back, watching him. “You need bed rest while you recover and I will not be returning you to a home where safety is not guaranteed.” Shinso stopped and stared at her. The look on his face was hard to read. Anger, disbelief, shock, fear, panic all rolled in to one.

“I’ll be fine.” He insisted through a clenched jaw. “It’s really not-“

“I am not going to send you back to a home that put you in this position in the first place.” Recovery Girl told him firmly. “Unless you have another place to go, you will remain here.” The three sat in silence for a moment, letting the finality sink in. There was no wiggling his way out of this. These two were by the book heroes. They had rules to follow and they followed them.

Shinso cursed himself for being so careless.

The silence was broken by a tired sigh coming from his teacher. Shinso kept his gaze on his knees. He felt so disappointed in himself. How could he have let this happen? Because of this he was about to lose everything. He had worked so hard to get where he was. He was going to have to move again and with his luck it’d be on the other side of the city. He could kiss UA goodbye.

“Hizashi and I have a spare room.” Aizawa spoke in his usual bored tone. This confused Shinso. How would this help him? Aizawa hard turned to speak to Recovery Girl. “If he doesn’t want to stay here, he can stay with us while he recovers.” Recovery Girl looked between the two of them, thinking. She watched as Shinso stared at his idol in confusion and wonder before she sighed.

“Very well.” She agreed. “I will release him to your custody while he recovers from his illness. I will let his case worker know when I file the report against the foster family.” Next, she turned to Shinso. She was telling him everything he would need to do to ensure his own recovery but he couldn’t think. Was it the congestion or the fever? Nothing was sticking with him and he just stared at her blankly. “Do you understand?” He blinked, coming back to reality before turning to his teacher.

“Sir?” He asked curiously.

“Hm?”

“I can stay with you?” He asked cautiously, worried he had misunderstood.

“Would you rather stay here?” Aizawa asked and Shinso shook his head. “Then yes, you can stay with me.” He turned to Recovery Girl. “I’ll make sure he does what is needed to recover. I will also be on the lookout for worsening symptoms.”

“Have you discussed this with your husband?” Recovery Girl asked with a small smirk. Shinso raised his eyebrows at that. Not only was his teacher married, he was gay. Something warm bloomed in his chest at that.

So, there were heroes like him.

“I’m sure he won’t mind.” Aizawa shrugged before returning her smirk. “He’s used to me bringing home strays.”

Chapter Text

Shinso didn’t remember falling asleep, but he found himself being nudged awake by his teacher. He blinked back into consciousness, his purple eyes looking around, trying to remember where he was. He felt hot and lightheaded. He fought back a cough and wheezed before his purple eyes landed on Aizawa.

“Hey,” He spoke in his calm tone, “we’re here. Do you need help?” Aizawa asked as he held open the door of the cab. Shinso shook his head and shifted, slowly climbing out of the car. A hand on his arm helped pull him to his feet and he was too tired to fight it. He wavered but that hand didn’t leave his arm and despite his pride, he was grateful for it.

“I’m fine.” Shinso assured him as Aizawa shut the door and waved on the cab driver. “You sure this is alright?”

“I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.” Aizawa told him as he ushered him towards the apartment complex, one bag over his shoulder and the other bag in his hand. He guided the boy up the steps, walking behind him in case he lost his footing. “Hizashi’s probably back by now. The door should be unlocked.”

“Is he alright with this?” Shinso asked before covering his mouth and coughing. He leaned against the rail at the top of the steps and let it out before trying to catch his breath. Aizawa had stopped and let the boy cough, knowing it was better to cough it up than suppress it. He waited until Shinso had stopped wheezing before he answered.

“I called on the way here to give him a heads up.” Aizawa told him while he continued to lean against the rail. “Once you get something on your stomach you can take your medicine.”

“I’m not hungry.” Shinso told him. It was a half-truth. Mostly he didn’t want to inconvenience them further. In his head, he was going to stay the night, get some good sleep, and go to school. It was just a cold. He could shake it off and he’d get out of their hair and back to training.

“I didn’t ask.” Aizawa told him flatly. “Not only did you endure school and some training, your body is fighting an infection. The medicine will be more effective if you eat.” Shinso rolled his eyes and began walking again. He could hear the truth in his words but he was so resistant to help. He didn’t need it. He was fine on his own. He’d been on his own for long enough. Shinso knew how to take care of himself.

He didn’t want to get his hopes up.

He didn’t want to believe someone cared.

He didn’t want to be let down again.

“Don’t bother knocking.” Aizawa instructed as they finally got to the door. Shinso grabbed the handle but hesitated. He had no idea who to expect on the other side. This was weird. He was about to stay the night at his teacher’s house. He hardly knew the man. Even as a hero the man was secretive. He hadn’t even known he was married, much less gay. It felt like a huge invasion of privacy. Maybe he should leave. “Something wrong?” Aizawa asked behind him. The question brought him back down to earth and he pushed open the door.

Shinso was instantly greeted by warmth and light, a sharp contrast from the chilly, dark night. He stumbled across the threshold and had to stop as a nasty cough wracked through him.

“Hey, hey, hey!” A familiar voice called down the hall as the man stepped into his line of sight. Shinso stared in shock at the man. “Welcome home, you two. Good timing, dinner’s ready!” Shinso looked at Present Mic, hardly recognizing him out of hero costume. His hair was down and in a messy partial bun. He was peering over his glasses as the two stepped into the hall, Aizawa closing the door behind him and shutting out the cold air. “Don’t just stand there, kid, come on in!” Hizashi stepped out of the hall and back into the room he had came from. Shinso looked behind him at Aizawa with a smug grin.

“Am I dreaming?” He asked his teacher. The man just sighed and jerked his chin.

“Go.” He ordered, stepping out of his shoes. Shinso began walking again after he had done the same. He followed the hall until he reached the room Present Mic had disappeared into. It was the living space. They had a living room with the usual couches and tv. Then there was the kitchen, bright and cozy. Between the living room and kitchen was the table. Three places had been set out, food and water placed at the spots. The fourth seat had someone’s briefcase. Where food should have been, a laptop and papers stacked haphazardly. There were some dishes on the counter, but not so many it would have been cluttered. There was a cat on the table, sniffing at some of the food.

“Hey!” Present Mic scolded as he grabbed the cat, lifting it off the table. “That’s not for you. Scram.” He said to it fondly while setting it on the floor. Shinso watched with a small smile as the cat meowed up at the blond before leaning against his legs. Present Mic flashed him a knowing smile. “She thinks she runs the place.” He beckoned Shinso closer to the table before tapping a chair. “Come sit.” Shinso stepped closer, still in a daze and sat. He felt like he was in a dream, like none of this was real. As he sat and the wood chair creaked beneath him, his stomach twisted in anxiety. He feared any moment he would wake up and find himself back in that abandoned building, curled under old newspapers and cardboard. He must have made a face because suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder. He flinched a bit and looked up. Present Mic gave him a small smile. “If you don’t like it, I can get you something else.” Shinso shook his head as Aizawa sat down in his own seat.

“This is good.” He said. “Just not feeling well.” His head bobbed a bit and Present Mic let out a chuckle as he took his own seat.

“Well, dig in!” He encouraged. Shinso nodded tiredly but still looked to Aziawa, almost as though he need his permission as well. However, Aizawa had already started eating and that was permission enough. Shinso picked up his utensils and took a slow bite. He watched his two teachers as they ate. They made idle chit chat and Present Mic would occasionally ask him a question. He must have given some kind of response since the blonde would smile and continue eating. Every once in a while Present Mic would say something that would draw a tired smile or laugh from Aizawa.

It was sickeningly domestic.

Why did it make him angry?

This peace is temporary. He had to keep reminding himself of that. This was temporary. He was just there to make sure he didn’t run off and make himself sicker. Shinso wasn’t sure why Aizawa still stuck with him. After he was better he’d be moved and probably be forced out of UA. All that training gone to waste. His stomach lurched and he set his utensils down and leaned back in his seat.

“You’re lookin’ a little green there, kiddo.” Present Mic told him. “You doin’ alright?” Shinso’s purple eyes glanced to his teacher and nodded.

“Yes, sir.” Shinso told him. Present Mic laughed.

“I don’t know how I feel about being called “sir” in my own home.” Present Mic told him with a smile. His eyes glanced down at Shinso’s food. “Are you done eating?” He asked. Shinso wanted to point out he wasn’t hungry to start but once more looked to Aizawa for confirmation.

“If you’re done, you’re done.” Aizawa told him before standing and moving over to the bags he had set on the couch. One was his bag, another was Shisno’s. What the boy hadn’t noticed was the paper bag he had brought from the school. He picked it up and brought it back to the table, pulling out a medicine bottle. He huffed out a sigh and read the directions for the dosage. Shinso could see his mouth moving. He could hear the words being said, but he was losing his ability to comprehend. Whatever Aizawa was telling him, he nodded in agreement. Aizawa pinned him with a stare and sighed again before cracking open the medicine bottle and passing him the pills. Shinso took them with a sip of water.

“You want a shower?” Present Mic offered as he stood, grabbing Shinso’s dishes. A wave of guilt washed over him.

“Are you gonna throw it away?” Wasted food was never good, especially if it wasn’t his money being wasted.

“I’ll save it for ya.” Present Mic offered with a smile. “If you get hungry later, feel free to heat it up!” Shinso blinked. That was actually a good idea. “You want a shower? Maybe the steam will break up some of that phlegm.”

“Shower is mandatory.” Aizawa told Shinso, pulling his attention. “Do you have a clean change of clothes?”

“Jus’ what’s in my bag.” Shinso told him before sniffling. He was feeling worse by the minute. When the hell was the medicine going to kick in? He had taken it, right? “It’s fine.” Aizawa sighed before standing again.

“Come on.” He motioned and Shinso stood carefully and followed him back into the hall until Aizawa stopped him and told him to wait. The man stepped into the room and left the door open. He flicked on a light and moved over to a dresser, opening the top drawer. Shinso tried not to be nosy, but habit kicked in and he looked around the room. He only had a minute or so before Aizawa was in front of him once more, shoving a pair of sweat pants and a tee shirt into his hands. Shinso blinked and stepped back, looking at the bundle of clothes. A hand was placed on his arm and gently guided him across the hall where another light flicked on. This light was brighter, harsher. As his eyes adjusted he realized it was the bathroom. He stepped inside and set the clothes carefully on the toilet, not wanting to drop it on the floor. Aizawa had disappeared and reappeared before Shinso could even realize he was gone. He had returned with Shinso’s bag. “If you’ve been sleeping outside, I assume you have some toiletries in here. If not, feel free to use ours. Take your time. If you need anything just shout.”

“I will.” Shinso nodded. He shifted from one foot to the other and in a moment of vulnerability, he speaks again. “Thanks.” He said, making the man pause and look at him. “I appreciate it.” Aizawa held his stare for a moment before nodding and stepping away, leaving him to shower in peace.

The steam was heaven. Shinso sighed as the hot water beat against his skin. His aches lessened and for a small while he could breathe. He ran his fingers through his hair, letting the water hit his scalp. UA had nice enough showers. The water was warm, sure, but they weren’t private and they weren’t hot. On top of all of that he had to be quick, rushing through it and barely having enough time to get the soap out of his hair. Now he stood there, letting the hot water run through his hair for what felt like an eternity. The water was so hot he wondered if he was burning himself. What bliss.

Shinso stayed there until he pruned. Only then did he turn the water off. He grabbed the towel and rubbed himself down before drying his hair. The towel was soft but he didn’t waste much time. He had taken long enough already. The bags under his eyes felt heavier. His body felt heavier. He knew he was exhausted physically and emotionally, but he could breathe a little easier. Cautiously he took a deep breath, and though he could breathe a little deeper, he still coughed. He put a hand over his mouth as the cough shook through him. He could feel the phlegm coming up and spat it out into the sink, wincing.

“Ugh.” He grunted before running the water and rinsing it down the drain before washing his hands. He dressed himself quickly and tried to wipe off the mirror. A smirk played at his lips. He looked ridiculous. His hair was messy and tangled. He was paler than usual and his bags were deeper. He looked like death warmed over and the clammy feverish chill returning to his skin. The tee shirt was gray and worn, fraying at the collar. The sweatpants would hardly stay on. He was lucky the draw string still worked. He felt like a kid in his parents’ clothes and shook his head. He tossed his things back in his bag and opened the door. The cooler air of the apartment rushed in and goose bumps raised on his skin. He sniffled and lugged himself and the bag back down the hall, returning to the living room.

Aizawa was sitting at the table. Someone had cleared away dinner and now he sat in pink sweatpants and black long sleeved shirt. He had a laptop open and the papers that had been stacked were scattered around once more. A cup of steaming coffee rested on the table as well and he had rested his chin on his fist. In the living room, the TV had been turned on with the sound a gentle noise in the background. Present Mic sat, his feet propped up on a coffee table with his own work in his lap. A cat brushed against his leg as he stood. Shinso stood there for a moment, just taking in the quiet stillness. It almost felt like he was seeing a comfortable routine. He wanted to be a part of it, but deep down he knew it wasn’t for him. Some were lucky, others were not.

“Uhm,” He spoke, catching both of their attention. The sudden stares glued to him unnerved him. Suddenly he found himself on edge. Attention at home was never a good thing. “Where am I sleeping?” He asked. He hoped he wasn’t coming off as rude.

“It’s the last room at the end of the hall.” Aizawa told him. “Make yourself comfortable. We’ll be up for a while. If you need anything let us know.”

“Yes, sir.” Shinso nodded and turned on his heel to leave. He made his way to the spare room. It was a bed, a nightstand and a lamp. It looked comfortable enough. He set his bad in a corner and pulled back the covers. He crawled in and turned off the light before laying there. He sat in the dark, staring up at the ceiling. Light filtered in from the window through the blinds. He thought about closing them but kept them open. He didn’t like feeling trapped or closed in, and with how his chest was feeling, he was already starting to feel claustrophobic. He rolled onto his side, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure. Shinso breathed in deep and coughed again, letting it shake through him. This sucked but the pillow under his head, the blanket draped around him, and the soft mattress beneath him was worlds better than where he had been sleeping. Shinso consciously forced his body to relax and got as comfortable as he could.

Within minutes, he was out like a light.

Aizawa settled onto the couch next to his husband, making the blond chuckle. He had grabbed the papers next to him and dropped them onto the table before practically curling into the blonde’s side. Aizawa sighed as Hizashi wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer. He closed his laptop and set it aside before placing a kiss on his husband’s head.

“I guess I’m done for the night.” Hizashi teased. Aizawa nodded and wrapped and arm around Hizashi’s torso.

“You are.” He stated in his firm tone. The two sat there for a moment, enjoying each other’s company while the tv played. They watched it but neither of them paid attention. Hizashi’s fingers began to play with Aizawa’s hair idly, telling Aizawa his mind was wandering too.

“How long is he staying?” Hizashi asked quietly.

“At least two weeks.” Aizawa told him. “Unless he recovers quickly, but given the circumstances-“

“I’m surprised he doesn’t have pneumonia.” Hizashi admitted. “Where was he staying before this?”

“Abandoned building.” Aizawa told him. “About a block away from the school. His foster parents get violent.”

“What?” Hizashi asked as he shifted away to look at him. “What? Are you sure?”

“I saw the bruises.” Aizawa told him grimly. “Damn surprised he doesn’t have a broken rib.” Aizawa sighed deeply and leaned against his husband. It wasn’t sitting right with him. “How did I miss it?”

“You couldn’t have known.” Hizashi assured him. “I mean we’re trained to pick up on this stuff. None of us did.”

“No one else was working with him after school.” Aizawa pointed out. “I spent the most time with him outside of a classroom. I should have noticed something.”

“Shota,” Hizashi warned gently. “You can’t do this to yourself.” Hizashi pulled him closer, resting his cheek against his head. “He’s here. He’s safe. That’s what matters. You did pick up on it. That’s why he’s here.” Aizawa hummed and leaned into his husband, taking in the comfort. He was surprised at how rattled he was by this. It took everything he had to stay calm. Truth of the matter was, someone touched his student and he wanted blood. “Any word on what happens next?” Hizashi asked, pulling Aizawa out of his thoughts. “I know you said he’s staying until he gets better. They’re not gonna let him go back, right?”

“The school is filing a report with the case worker.” Aizawa told him. “Due to the circumstances, we were able to work it out so he could stay here and recover. His case worker didn’t seem to have any idea what was happening. She said all the home visits checked out. She was more than willing to approve us temporarily taking custody.”

“Oh?” Hizashi asked, a small smirk forming. “We have custody now?” Aizawa sighed, kicking himself for opening this door.

“Yes, Hizashi.” Aizawa huffed, trying to fight the smile.

“So, technically we’re parents?” He asked and Aizawa rolled his eyes. “Right?”

“Technically we’re legal guardians.” Aizawa corrected, looking up at his pouting husband. “Let’s just focus on getting the kid back on his feet.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Hizashi said with a smug smile as he settled in. He pulled his husband close and kissed his head, getting an affectionate grumble from the man. They settled together on the couch, holding each other close while the tv played some show they only partially paid attention to. Aizawa felt Hizashi’s chest rise and fall in a contented sigh. They were going to enjoy the peace while it lasted.

It didn’t last long.

Their quiet peace was broken and the two shot upright in their seats as the sound of running footsteps sounded through the hall. There was a flick of a light switch and moments later retching echoed through the apartment.

Chapter Text

It hurt.

It hurt so bad.

Vomiting sucked. Vomiting when you couldn’t stop coughing sucked worse. Vomiting and coughing with deeply bruised ribs was hell. Even though he was congested, the acidity of the vomit filled his sinuses and made his stomach lurch again. It hurt so bad.

Shinso continued to empty his stomach into the toilet. When he had a moment to suck in a rancid breath, he coughed up mucus, triggering another lurch in his stomach that led to more vomiting. Before long, what little food he had was gone and he was left dry heaving over the bowl. His face and neck were strained. It felt as though someone was reaching down his throat and trying to pull his stomach up and out through his mouth. He heaved and panted over the bowl, trying to get some air into his lungs before he passed out. He needed to be quiet. He couldn’t risk waking them. When would it stop?

A cough started and it shook him. He continued to spit mucus into the bowl, waiting for more bile to come up. Tears and snot streamed down his face as he tried to breathe. Shinso could barely register his body shaking. As more oxygen returned to his brain, he realized there was not only a hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles, but there was a hand holding his hair out of his face.

A sob broke from him, though he couldn’t tell you why he was crying. Maybe it was exhaustion, maybe it was pain. Maybe it was the tenderness being shown him that broke him down. Whatever caused it, it left him on his knees, flamed face resting against the cold ceramic of the toilet seat, and trying to cry quietly while he waited to see if his stomach would ruin him once more.

How embarrassing.

There were hushed voices, but he couldn’t understand them. They weren’t his foster parents, that’s for sure. The hand that was smoothing back his hair would have grabbed him and yanked him across the room by now if that was the case. Where was he where he was receiving such comfort?

Oh.

He was making a mess in his teachers’ bathroom. Had he been feeling any better, he would have been embarrassed, but the need to breathe won out. He wanted the fluids off of his face so he slowly lifted his head and reached out for the toilet paper. Instead, someone placed a small face cloth in his hand.

“Use this.” A voice instructed. Who was he to argue? He rubbed it against his face and sat there in a daze. Slowly he realized the man crouching next to him on the floor was Aizawa. Present Mic appeared in the doorway, glass of water in his hand.

“Here’s some water,” Present Mic offered with a quieter voice than he was used to. The blond stepped in and passed him the glass. “Sip it slow.” He instructed. Shinso took in a mouthful and swirled it around before spitting it into the toilet, trying to get rid of the acrid taste. He reached up and flushed, letting his hand drag the lid down before settling against it. He carefully took a sip but choked, triggering another cough. It took him a minute, but he was able to get some water down into his stomach. He was half way done with the glass when the silence was broken. “Can I get you anything? Tea or some broth?” Shinso shook his head.

“No, thank you.” He rasped and looked between the two. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“We weren’t asleep.” Aizawa told him and slowly reached out his hand, not wanting to startle him. He placed his hand on Shinso’s forehead. He was clammy and hot. In spite of himself, Shisno’s eyes fluttered closed and he leaned into the cool touch. “How are you feeling?”

“Shitty.” Shinso mumbled out before he remembered who he was speaking with. His eyes blinked open and leaned back. “Sorry.” He slurred a bit, “Mm tired.” Aizawa gave a brief smirk before speaking to him again.

“Let’s get you back to bed.” He suggested before standing and helping the boy to his feet. Present Mic took the glass so he didn’t drop it and the two got the boy back into bed. Shinso must have been delirious. There was no way his teachers were tucking him in. “You need to sleep at an angle.” Aizawa told him as he propped the pillow up. “Get another from the closet for me.” Aizawa told Present Mic. The blond left, his footsteps echoing away and Aziawa turned his attention back to Shinso. “If you lay flat, it’ll settle in your chest.” Thudding footsteps returned as Present Mic bounced back into the room, passing over the pillow he had grabbed. Aizawa took it and stacked it with the other, letting Shisno lean back against them. He closed his eyes and tried to get comfortable, but when your body ached, it was hard to not crawl out of your skin.

“Can I have some water?” He asked and Present Mic handed him the glass again. He sipped it tentatively and they waited for him to finish. When he did, the blonde teacher took the glass and left the room, promising to return with more.

“Wha’s gonna happen?” Shinso asked, his head lolling a bit and his eyelids growing heavy.

“Don’t worry about that right now.” Aizawa told him as he sat on the edge of the bed. Present Mic returned with the glass and set it on the nightstand. He flashed a smile at the boy before stepping back and resting a hand on his husband’s shoulder.

“Let us know if we need anything, yea?” Present Mic offered, his smile still bright. Shinso looked between the two of them before a grin cracked across his face.

“Are you two real?” He asked, his head leaning back, eyes half closed. The two teachers looked at each other in confusion. “How did this happen?”

Ah.

“Well, you got sick and now you’re here.” Present Mic told him with a smile. Shinso chuckled at that and shook his head.

“Didn’t mean to be rude.” He told them, his smile falling a bit. “I jus’ didn’t know.” Shinso swallowed thickly and reached for his water.

“Not many do.” Aizawa told him as his husband gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “It’s not something we broadcast.” Present Mic snorted and Aizawa rolled his eyes before continuing. “We’d appreciate it if you kept this to yourself.”

“No, no.” Shinso shook his head. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and horse from the coughing and vomiting. “Didn’t know there were…there were heroes like me.” He gave them a dry smile and the two teachers sat there, still as stone. Shinso laughed a bit to himself and Aizawa felt his forehead. He was going to give him some time before he tried to put any more meds on the kids stomach.
The two stayed with him for a bit, almost fussing over him as he fell asleep. When they stepped back into the hall, closing the door softly behind them, the two looked at each other.

“He’s frickin’ out of it.” Hizashi said as he crossed his arms. “He’s been here for a night and he’s come out. He’s such a closed off kid.” Hizashi bounced his leg in thought for a moment. “The more I learn about him, the less willing I am to let him go.”

“We need to focus on him getting better first.” Aizawa reminded him. He tugged on his husband’s shirt, pulling him closer, not happy with the frown on the blonde’s face. Hizashi was much too serious for his liking. “C’me here.” He said gently, placing his hands on the blonde’s hips. The frown slowly shifted into a smile before wrapping his arms around Aizawa’s shoulders and giving him a kiss. “When he breaks this fever, we can ask him about it.”

“It’s gonna be a long night.” Hizashi told him smugly. “Sure you’re up to it?”

“I’ll make the coffee.” Aizawa sighed before kissing him again and releasing the blond from his arms. Hizashi bounced down the hall and Aizawa watched him go, once more wondering where the man got the energy. Before he left, he cracked the door a bit, peering in. Shinso was sleeping, mouth open and snoring lightly, but he was breathing. He left the door cracked, letting a little light in. “Get better soon, kid.”

Chapter Text

To say Shinso didn't sleep well was an understatement. Sleeping at an angle was uncomfortable, his body still ached, his fever had only slightly decreased, and his ribs ached from the coughing and vomitting. On top of this, every hour, one of his teachers would come in and check on him and check his temperature. They gave him water but nothing solid, not even medicine. They wanted to make sure they weren't going to make him throw up again.

To put it bluntly, it sucked.

When the sun started to hit his face, he was slowly roused from what little sleep he had gotten. He sucked in a breath and once again started coughing. He let it take its course before settling back against the pillows. Shinso's coughing had stirred someone on his bed and a disgruntled meow sounded from the lump curled against his legs.

"Sorry," He said to the cat with a small smile. He knew the cat couldn't understand him, but he also knew how much it sucked to be woken up like this. A knock came from his door and he looked to see Aizawa in the door way, fist resting against the door frame. As he lowered it, Shinso noticed a mug of something hot in his other hand.

"Ignore her." He advised as he stepped inside. "Hizashi's spoiled her. How are you feeling?" Aizawa asked him.

"Tired." He admitted, hating how rough his voice sounded. He swallowed thickly and tried to clear his throat. "But, I'm ok." He lied. Shinso didn't know why he did it, but minimizing his pain had become second nature. He could handle it. It didn't matter what was wrong he could handle it on his own.

"I doubt that." Aizawa told him as he slowly reached out to feel his forehead. "You're still too warm. How's your stomach?" Shinso blinked and thought about it. The queesiness had passed, but he couldn't say he was hungry.

"It's fine, I guess." He shrugged and heard the huff of exasperated air rushing through Aizawa's nose. The man handed him the mug and Shinso looked to find it was not in fact coffee. "It's just broth, but if you keep this down for a few hours you can try the medicine again, maybe even something solid."

"Could I have coffee?" Shinso blurted out before he could think. Guilt made his stomach lurch. Who was he to make a request? Was that ok? Shit, shit, shit he shouldn't have asked. He shouldn't have been so rude! After everything they'd done for him, he asked for more. What the fuck?

"...Ok?" Shinso blinked and shook his head a bit, accidently making the room spin a bit. Aizawa had said something but he had completely missed it. He needed to get it together. "Did you hear what I said?"

"No," Shinso admitted quietly. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine." Aizawa assured him, and Shinso was surprised to hear not a drop of frustration or irritation. "Coffee dehydrates the body. That's the last thing you need, especially if you're throwing up. Let's get your fever broken before we start putting something that harsh on your stomach."

"Oh," Shinso said as he looked down at the mug. "That makes sense." The room lulled into silence for a moment before he lifted the mug and took a sip. The taste was comforting but the warmth was heaven on his throat. He leaned back and closed his eyes, sighing. Unfortunately, it triggered another cough. He covered his mouth and let it out. As the coughing got more rough on him, Aizawa took the mug and set it on the nightstand. It took him a bit before he could catch his breath and he was left there, wheezing and struggling to breathe. "Sorry," He ended up gasping out.

"You're fine." Aizawa assured him before sitting on the edge of his bed. "We'll give it an hour before we put food on your stomach. Your cough is worrying. If we're not careful, you'll end up with pneumonia." Shinso reached for the broth in the mug and took another sip as he listened. the shirt was too big for him and he felt like he was swimming in the clothes. Between that and the weight of the blanked over his legs, he felt cocooned in comfort. It was strange. With how patient and understanding the two men had been, he couldn't help but let his guard down a bit. He wanted to get better and get back on with his life, but he didn't want to leave. His stomach churned with knowing he would have to say goodbye.

"Sir," He rasped, staring down at his mug. He heard Aizawa hum, encouraging him to continue. "What happens-"

"Shinso," Aizawa stopped him with a warning tone. He didn't want to have the conversation with him now, but a part of him understood why the kid was pressing it. "We can't let you go back." He admitted after a moment. Shinso sat with that information for a minute. It was over. It was all over. All the progress he had made, all of the work he had done was for nothing. In his feverish state, he couldn't help the pinprick of tears that made his eyes itch. Shinso sniffled and as he blinked, they escaped, rolling down his cheek.

"Shit." He sniffed and rubbed his face to try and undo the expression of emotion. "Sorry." Aizawa looked him over. The kid was pale and clammy and in desperate need of more rest, but he doubted Shinso would get any sleep unless his questions were answered. "Why did you bring me here?"

"Excuse me?" Aizawa asked quietly, a little confused at the sudden hostility in the boy's voice. Not only was the tone throwing him off, but the question as well.

"They're gonna move me again." Shinso said and cleared his throat, his eyes darting on the room. "All the time and effort you've invested in me just gone to waste."

"Why do you say that?" Aizawa asked patiently. Shinso's purple eyes finally settled on him, his dark bags making him looked close to death.

"New family." Shinso said as though that explained everything. He waited a minute, waiting for understanding to show on Aizawa's face, but it never came. "I'm not gonna be placed anywhere near the school. I was lucky to get the family I did get."

"You have bronchitis and bruises darker than your hair," Aizawa told him sternly. "I wouldn't call this lucky."

"But I could go to school." Shinso said before sipping the broth. This talking was rough on his sore throat. "I could go to UA."

"Is that why you never said anything?" Aziawa asked quietly. "Is that why you never said anything?" Aizawa's jaw clenched when Shinso nodded but said nothing, letting silence consume them once more, only broken by the sipping sounds as Shinso drank his broth. The boy looked away. Aizawa was staring at him now and he felt as though the man was staring holes into his head. He had said too much, now. He had shared too much but he didn't care. He was angry. He was angry at the system, he was angry at his teachers, he was angry at himself. "I can't promise you'll be placed in a home near the school," He told the boy, catching his attention. Shinso held his stare, almost holding his breath and Aizawa continued. "But I can promise where ever you are places, you will still be a student at UA."

"How?" Shinso asked, not daring to believe.

"We'll work with your case worker." Aizawa told him. "UA is a large school with many resources. There has even been talks about creating dorms on campus." Shino's tired eyes lit up at that. Despite his best efforts, hope crept into his veins. His teacher rested a heavy hand on Shinso's shin. "I know it's a lot to ask, but I'm going to ask you to trust us. Let us deal with the logistics. Just focus on getting better." Shinso opened his mouth to say something but instead winced and groaned as a sharp pain ripped through his stomach as it growled, startling him but not surprising Aizawa. The man smirked as the kid relaxed back against the pillows. "I'm not surprised." Aizawa told him. "I'll make you something to eat." He said as he stood from the bed and took Shinso's now empty mug. Shinso yanked back the blanket and threw his legs over the side, jerking out of bed and stumbling. Aizawa caught him and steadied him as a cough forced its way out. "Easy, easy." Aizawa soothed. The coughing subsided and he helped him stand.

"I can-" Shinso tried to say through gasps, "You don't have to-" He heared the man sighed and struggled to meet his gaze, keeping his attention turned to the floor.

"Something tells me you're not going to get much rest in here right now." Aizawa told him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, slowly ushering him out into the hall. "We'll get you settled on the couch for a while."

"Yeah." Shinso wheezed. He let the man take him into the living room and settle him on the couch. Aizawa wrapped the throw blanket around him and the same cat from the bed had followed, joining him on the couch and settling down on his lap, making the two chuckle. Shinso watched from his spot as his teacher moved into the kitchen and warmed his left overs from the night prior. It was weird seeing him in his own home. The man was always a casual dresser, but he didn't expect pink sweatpants. The sleeves of his black shirt were rolled up to his elbows and his hair was pulled away from his face in a half bun. He had work scattered on the kitchen table, a mug and remnants of his own meal surrounded by the papers. "What time is it?"

"Almost four." Aizawa answered and Shinso sucked in a startled breath and triggered another coughing fit. He had slept that long? "Hizashi should be back from the school soon."

"Did you not go to school?" Shinso asked.

"I asked him to cover for me." Aizawa explained. "Given the severity of your situation, Principal Nezu agreed to let me stay home."

"You didn't have to." Shisno told him.

"I know." Shinso sat in silence. What else could he say? Aizawa knew he didn't have to help him, stay with him, but he did anyway. Why? He watched warily as the man returned with food and water and his medicine. He took the medicine with the water and began to carefully eat the food, not wanting to spill it. "Mid if I sit?" Aizawa asked, motioning to the seat on the couch next to him. Shinso looked at him in confusion. He was asking for permission to sit on his own couch? The boy nodded and watched as the man sat and turned on the television. He was sitting on his teacher's couch and eating food his husbands (also his teacher) had made for him. There was no way this was real.

The two sat in silence as Shinso ate, both watching the show. By the time Shinso had finished eating, the dishes ended up on the coffee table next to Aizawa's feet. The cat had moved and trotted off somewhere else. To Shino's joy and Aizawa's relief, the medicine kicked in. when he coughed it didn't hurt as much and over time he had started to breathe a little easier. He still had a fever and some chills and his body felt like he'd been hit by a truck, but he could finally breathe. With a full stomach Shinso started nodding off. His head bobbed and, knowing he was falling asleep, he leaned his head back against the couch.

Aizawa let the kid sleep, knowing he'd need as much as he could get. He wasn't surprised Shinso had fallen asleep on the couch especially since he had kept waking him up throughout the night. His breathing sounded a little better but he could still feel the heat radiating from Shinso's skin. He had half a mind to get his laptop to do some work but he didn't want to wake him. Shinso had fallen asleep, and after a small while, his head rolled onto Aizawa's shoulder. Aizawa had frozen for a moment and gently lifted his shoulder, seeing if he was awake. Instead of waking and moving, Shinso had shifted, allowing him to lean more heavily against his teacher. Aizawa sighed and settled in, letting Shinso lean on him, if just for a little while.

When Hizashi arrived he came home to a pleasant surprise. The blond hero stood with a fond smile, watching Shinso and Aizawa sleeping on the couch. His heart felt warm at the sight. He and Aizawa had been up all night, practically fussing over the boy to make sure he drank some water, was breathing, and that his fever didn't climb any higher. It had been a long night and the two deserved rest. Seeing them sleeping, seeing them ok, it made him ridiculously happy. More importantly, he was seeing Shinso relaxed. The boy was even tense when he slept, though he couldn't tell if that was from the fever or not. Now, as he slept against Aizawa's shoulder, he seemed at peace.

Hizashi left to shower and change, dropping his Present Mic persona for the night and going back to Hizashi Yamada. His hair was down and drying and he pulled on a sweater and some comfortable pants before quietly heading back into the living room where the two still slept. Carefully, he pulled out his phone and took a picture, ridiculously pleased with himself. Then he settled down next to his husband, kissing his cheek gently. The man grunted and stirred, lifting his head off the back of the couch and blinking up at his beaming blond husband.

"You're home." He grunted quietly. Hizashi hummed and gave him another kiss before brushing some stray hair from Aizawa's face.

"How's he doing?" Hizashi asked quietly and the two looked at Shinso for a moment.

"Better." Aizawa told him. "He was able to eat and take some medicine. He's fever hasn't broken yet."

"I wouldn't expect it to until tomorrow or so." Hizashi told him. "Do you want me to make dinner again or do you want me to order out?"

"Hmm," Aizawa pretended to think for a minute before wrapping his arm around Hizashi and pulling him close to his side. "Order take away. I'm too comfortable." Hizashi chuckled at his husband but settled into his side. Aizawa sat there, sandwiched between a kid he had taken under his wing and his husband. He'd never really thought about having kids but he'd also never given marriage a second thought until Hizashi came around. Shinso was in need of a safe place and adults he could trust. They had a spare room and experience teaching kids.

Maybe they could work something out.

Chapter Text

"I can't breathe," Shinso gasped out, leaning against the door frame and the two adults turned in their seats to look at him, worry taking over their features. Shinso looked at them, terror etched over his face as his hand grabbed at his chest. "I can't...I can't," He panted and Aizawa stood, carefully moving towards him. "I can't-" Shinso was cut off by a particularly nasty cough. He covers his mouth and coughed, irritating his raw throat, inflamed lungs, and aching ribs. His eyes closed and tears fell down his face.

He was panicking.

Steady hands rested on his arms and his shaking legs gave out. Aizawa gently lowered him to the floor, careful to not let him fall. Shinso gasped for air and blinked open his eyes, looking at the ground. He couldn't breathe, why couldn't he breathe.

"I can't breathe." He repeated quietly. "I can't, I can't, I can't." He squeezed his eyes shut again and his shoulders shook.

"Shinso, I need you to try and take a deep breath in." Aizawa told him.

"I can't, I can't, I can't." Shinso shook his head.

"I need you to try." Aizawa told him and gave his arms a reassuring squeeze. Shinso was clearly breathing, he just didn't seem aware. Aizawa watched and Shinso breathed in and out rapidly, as though he was running. The boy was burning up. His fever seemed to have climbed higher. "I need you take in a deep breath. Just try." The purple haired boy bobbed his head and sucked in a loud breath, triggering another coughing fit. "Try again," Aizawa instructed calmly after the coughing subsided. Shinso sucked in another breath, this time careful not to trigger another cough. "And again," Aizawa coaxed and Shinso did as instructed.

"Do I need to call an ambulance?" Hizashi asked, leaning forward and bracing his hands on his knees. Aizawa glanced up at his husband.

"No, he's having a panic attack." Aizawa told him quietly as Shinso focused on breathing in. "Grab the thermometer and some water. I think his fever spiked."

"I can't breathe." Shinso rasped out. "I can't move."

"Don't focus on that, try to breathe." Aizawa assured him. "Breathe in, Shinso." The boy inhaled and exhaled. Aizawa coached him through the panic attack, focusing him on breathing. He had a million questions but those could wait until Shinso wasn't hyperventilating on his kitchen floor.

"I can't move." Shinso repeated and winced. "My body feels like lead."

"It's alright," Aizawa assured him gently. "It's part of the panic attack. You're safe here." Aizawa told him and Shinso leaned forward, resting his head on the man's shoulder. Aizawa sighed and ran one hand over his hair, smoothing the wild curls. "We've got you. You're safe." He repeated. "Breathe in." Aizawa sat like that for a while with Shinso leaning against his shoulder, relearning how to breathe. He noticed the boys' shoulders shaking and suspected he was crying but said nothing, continuing to assure him he was safe, that he and Hizashi would keep him safe here.

"I'm sorry," Shinso sniffled once he was able to breathe. He leaned away and Aizawa let him sit upright. He rubbed his nose on the back of his hand and tried to rub away the tears. "I -uhnn I don' know why I'm cryin'," Shinso said, still looking down and trying to calm down. "Sorry."

"It's fine, kid." Aizawa told him, watching him carefully but Shinso shook his head, his purple eyes finally meeting Aizawa's.

"I'm not-I'm not weak," He said before sniffling, trying to sound indifferent. "I've-I've had worse."

"I don't doubt that." Aizawa told him as Shinso held his stare.

"Cryin' doesn't make you weak, kiddo," Hizashi said as he sat down next to his husband, sitting cross legged and offering a kind smile. "You just went through a panic attack. Crying kinda comes with it, ya dig?" Shinso sniffed and looked between them, clearly still a bit on alert, trying to be defensive. Hizashi held up the thermometer. "You're burning a little hot. Can we take your tempurature?" He asked. Shinso looked at the thing before nodding. Hizashi smiled and stuck it out for him to take. Shinso took it and stuck it in his mouth as he sat back, bringing one knee up in front of himself, almost as though trying to put distance between himself and the two adults. Tears still fell down his cheeks but his face was hard and determined.

"Don't worry about being strong or weak right now." Aizawa told him, pulling his attention. "You're safe here. No one's judging you. If you need to let it out, do it. Holding it in is just gonna make things worse for you."

"We know you've been through a lot," Hizashi spoke softly, still smiling encouragingly. "We're here to take care of ya." The thermometer beeped and Shinso handed it back to Hizashi. The blonde took it and passed him a glass of water before looking. His smile dropped and he looked at his husband. "He's gone up. Does his medicine help with the fever?"

"I don't think so." Aizawa sighed and turned back to Shinso. "You need to be getting rest. Do you want to sleep in the bed or on the couch?" Shinso looked between the two, weighing the options for a moment. He didn't want to sleep and he didn't want to be alone. He could trust his teachers, right?

"Can I sit with you two?' He asked finally, wincing at how rough his voice sounded. Hizashi grinned.

"How about we get you settled on the couch, maybe get some tea on that throat." He offered and shifted so he was on his knees. He slowly reached out and gently grabbed Shinso's arms and helping the boy stand. "We can migrate to the couch and sit with you. That way you can get comfortable. Sound like a plan?"

"Ok." Shinso mumbled and let Hizashi guide him to the couch, leaning him against some pillows and draping a blanket over him. Hizashi stepped away and started making tea for the three of them while Aizawa grabbed their work and moved it to the living room. Shinso watched as he set up their laptops and stacked their papers. He suddenly felt very embarrassed. "Sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt you guys."

"It's fine." Aizawa assured him, stilling looking at the screen. "You were having a panic attack. Do you know what caused it?" He waited for an answer but when he was met with silence, he glanced over to Shinso who just stared at him. "Was it a nightmare?"

"Yeah." Shinso admitted quietly. Aizawa looked at him and nodded.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" His teacher asked carefully. Shinso sat for a long moment, considering telling him everything. Shinso wanted to tell him about the nightmare, about the abuse he had endured, about the nightmares he had lived. He wanted to tell him, make him see why it was so important for him to stay in the school. If he could be a hero, he could escape this.

"No." Shinso said finally. Aizawa nodded in understanding and Shinso let out a breath of relief. He didn't even realize he was holding it.

"Ok." Aizawa told him. "If you ever change your mind, we'll listen."

"Thank you." Shinso said and he meant it. He might not be ready to talk about it now, but knowing he had the choice gave him a weird sense of comfort. He could decide whether or not he talked about it. He had the power to control when he did and didn't talk about it. Aizawa leaned back and pulled his laptop onto his lap. Hizashi stood in the kitchen, waiting for the water to boil so he could make them all tea. As he stood there, he hummed something Shinso couldn't quite make out. The cat meowed and jumped onto the couch, settling between him and Aizawa. After the panic attack, his body still felt heavy and he leaned his head back. He was tired and struggled to stay awake. How could he sleep at a time like this? His body betrayed him as he relaxed, soothed by Hizashi's humming, the purr of the cat against his leg, and Aizawa's typing against the laptop. The sounds filled his ears and he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer.

When was the last time he had felt so safe?

Chapter Text

Hizashi lingered in the doorway while he watched his husband dabbed at the sweat on Shinso's forehead with a soft cloth. Aizawa sat on the edge of the bed, being as gentle as possible so as not to wake the boy sleeping in their guest bedroom.

"I'm about to head to the station," Hizashi told him, speaking quietly. Aizaiwa looked at him over his shoulder and nodded. "I'll pick up some spare clothes for him on my way home. Anything else you want me to grab?'

"Not that I can think of," Aizawa shook his head before giving his husband a soft smile.

"How's he faring?" Hizashi asked, stepping into the room.

"His fever is coming down a bit, but I think he's still got a ways to go." Aizawa sighed. "If this fever doesn't break after tomorrow, we should take him to the hospital."

"Agreed." Hizashi nodded before leaning over and placing a kiss on his husband's forehead. "Let me know if you need anything." Aizawa tilted his head up, kissing his husband gently.

"I will," he assured him. "Go, have fun." The blond grinned at him.

"You gonna tune in later?" Hizashi asked, earning a smirk from Aizawa.

"Only if I get bored." Hizashi chuckled quietly and shook his head before kissing Aizawa's forehead again before leaving the room and soon after, leaving the apartment. Aizawa sat with the boy for a while, wiping away sweat and applying a cool, damp cloth to Shinso's forehead, changing it out every so often. As he pressed another cool cloth to the boy's wrist, he heard a small grunt. Aizawa watched Shinso slowly open his eyes, the purple orbs struggling to focus. When they landed on him, he could tell the kid was out of it before he even spoke.

"Am I dying?" Shinso asked in a hoarse whisper.

"No," Aizawa assured him, pressing the cold cloth against the boy's wrist before adjusting the cloth on his forehead. "You're not dying, Shinso." The boy swallowed thickly before closing his eyes and leaning his head back again, sighing.

"Pity." He mumbled, making Aizawa freeze. He slowly pulled his hand away from Shinso's forehead and stared at him for a moment. Now may be the best time to get some information from him and with any luck, he'd be dazed enough it won't trigger another panic attack.

"Shinso," Aizawa spoke quietly. Those purple eyes opened again and he rolled his head to look at his teacher. The bags under his eyes were starting to look like bruises and Aizawa wondered how a child could look so hallow. "Do you think about dying often?" His words were slow and careful. He kept his tone calm, no judgement or worry, just a clear precise question. Shinso nodded and closed his eyes, rolling his head back slowly.

"Sometimes," came his answer before he tried to clear his throat, causing a coughing fit. He scrunched his face in pain as he coughed. When it died down, Aizawa handed him a glass of water and helped him sit up a bit. Shinso took a few careful sips before he was given a pill. He didn't question what it was or what it did, taking it and drinking more water before settling back against the pillows. "Better that way. Takes away the guesswork."

"I don't understand." Aizawa told him. Shinso was talking about killing himself, that he understood, but what guesswork? Shinso rolled his head and looked at his teacher, his eyes unfocused and dazed. The kid was really out of it.

"He's gonna kill me, you know." Shinso spoke with such a calmness and finality it threw Aizawa for a loop. "Is he here?"

"Hizashi?" Aizawa asked before shaking his head. "No, he left for his job at the radio station."

"No," Shinso wobbled his head back and forth. "Him. He's using his quirk now." Aizawa froze before looking around but they were alone.

"What are you talking about?" Aizawa asked, his tone gaining a sense of urgency as he turned to the boy. "How can you tell?"

"I can't move." Shinso told him bluntly. "That's what he does, his quirk." Aizawa calmed a bit at that. There was no intruder that had gone undetected, just the fever, just the illness. "His quirk, it's like a poison." He watched as Shinso tapped his finger against the bed. "If he touches you, it stings at first. That's how you know he did it."

"Did what?" Aizawa prompted as Shinso swallowed.

"It gets in you and you slowly freeze up." Shinso explained, his unfocused eyes never leaving Aizawa's. "The longer he touches you, the quicker it works. It always works. You can't move. It gets hard to breathe. Everything just," He shrugged before relaxing completely, "drop."

"Your body goes limp, like a paralytic." Aizawa reiterated, making sure he understood what he was hearing.

"Yeah," Shinso answered quietly. "Then it starts."

"What starts?" Aizawa prompted after a moment of silence. He knew the answer and he didn't want to hear it, but he had to. He had to at least bear witness to the boy's experiences.

"Beatings." Shinso answered. "Lot of 'em." He blinked a few times and Aizawa could see Shinso's eyes getting teary. "It's scary, you know?" He asked before curling on his side, still facing his teacher. "When you can't move like that, and he's hitting you. You don't know if it'll ever end or what happens when it does. I'd rather do it myself than let him draw it out like that."

"I understand," Aizawa assured him, nodding. It was a matter of safety and control. He'd rather die on his own terms, ensuring it was quick and painless, rather than get bludgeoned to death by a foster parent. Aizawa felt sick to his stomach but tried not to let it show.

"Don't let him touch me." Shinso said. Aizawa just sat and looked at him. He was too dazed to sound pleading but he could hear the fear behind the calm request. "Don't let him touch me. I'm not a villain, honest."

"I know you're not a villain, Shinso." Aizawa assured him before taking the boy's hand that had reached out to him. "You're not a villain, and I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure he never touches you again."

"Promise?" Shinso asked, eyeing his teacher almost warily.

"I promise."

"Thanks for callin' in, listener!" Hizashi said brightly into the mic as he flipped a few switches. "Let's go ahead and get back to these awesome tunes for a bit! Everyone, put your hands up for this blast from the not so distant past and get ready to rock and roll!" He took himself off the air and let the music take over. He lined up a few more songs, giving himself a break to stretch and grab something to snack on. It was late in the evening and he was already feeling tired. When he picked up his phone, he frowned at the message from his husband.

Call me when you're on a break.

Hizashi leaned back in his chair and pressed call. As the phone rang he leaned over and opened a drawer, pulling out a snack and a drink. As he cracked open the can of soda, his husband answered the phone.

"Hey, thanks for calling," Aizawa sighed quietly into the phone.

"Sure thing, babe." Hizashi said as he held the phone between his ear and shoulder, popping open the bag of chips. "You guys doing ok?"

"Let me step outside," Aizawa said quietly and Hizashi's stomach tightened with worry but he sat still, waiting patiently. He could hear Aizawa shuffling some things around and the sliding glass door open and close. He had stepped out onto the balcony. "Thanks, I don't want to wake him."

"Yeah, what's going on?" Hizashi asked, wanting him to just spit it out. "He getting worse? I can come home if you need me to."

"That's not necessary." Aizawa assured him tiredly. "I got a little more information out of him about his home life." There was a pause on the other end of the line and Hizashi waited. "It's not good."

"We knew that when we first invited him to stay," Hizashi reminded him, his own way of prompting his husband to continue.

"It's...different." Aziawa said carefully. "He's thought about killing himself. Not because he wants to die, from what I can tell." Hizashi paused and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"I don't understand." He admitted.

"The man who is supposed to be his foster father apparently has a quirk that acts as a paralytic. He used it to render him immobile so he couldn't fight back."

"Shit," Hizashi hissed angrily. "That's fucked up."

"Shinso explained he'd rather go out on his own terms. I gathered it's so he could ensure his death is long and drawn out." Aizawa finished and there as a pause as Hizashi processed what he was being told. He chewed his chips slowly, thinking it all over. He'd had a good run as a hero. Maybe he'd make a good villain too. Nah, vigilante was better, he didn't like hurting people who didn't deserve it. "It's....jarring to hear it come from someone so young." Aizawa admitted with a tired sigh and Hizashi's heart broke a bit. There was no doubt in his mind his husband was blaming himself.

"You know it's not your fault," Hizashi reminded him. "You're the reason he's out of that nightmare."

"Yeah," Aizawa said back but he didn't sound convinced. They sat in a brief silence before he spoke again. "Thanks for letting me call and thanks for listening. I just needed to let you know."

"I'm always happy to hear from ya, babe." Hizashi grinned as he spoke into the phone. Aizawa was a fairly reserved man and few things ratted him to his core. As long as Hizashi knew him, he'd never seen him so quickly shaken than when it came to his students. As far as he was concerned, they were his children. "Take it easy tonight. Get some decent sleep. I'll be home before you know it!" He heard the man chuckle on the other end of the line.

"Yeah." He said again. "I'll see you when you get home. Enjoy your show."

"I will." Hizashi assured him. "Love ya to bits!"

"I love you, too."

He wasn't sure how he'd gotten there, but Shinso woke up choking on the floor as vomit and bile burned his throat. He managed to roll onto his stomach and prop himself up, trying to keep it from going into his lungs like it was trying to. He retched onto the floor in shame. He was making a mess of himself and the floor but he could barely bring himself to care as a cough rocked through him. His sinuses burned as he coughed and gagged. Tears stung his eyes, blinding him.

"Shinso?" A voice called to him, laced with worry. He knew that voice.

"Ah-hurgh." Vomit came up his throat again as his stomach turned itself inside out, cutting him off. Panic seized him but he couldn't move. He didn't have the strength, so he stayed on his hands and knees, coughing and trying to breath as his stomach lurched again and emptied itself. Footsteps quickly made their way to the room and as the lights flicked on, the man swore under his breath. "Shit," the man mumbled and Shinso closed his eyes, waiting for the shouting and beating that would never come. He flinched as a hand rested on his back.

"Sorry." Aizawa said, his hand hovering nearby. He let the boy continue to empty his stomach and waited until he was catching his breath. "Can you stand?" Aizawa wanted to get him to the bathroom, wanting him to be able to get as much into the toilet as possible. Not only was the bathroom easier to clean, it was easier to clean Shinso up. The boy tried to sit upright but double back over, vomiting up bile before dry heaving.

"Make it stop," Shinso pleaded in a hoarse whisper, making Aizawa's heart ache. There was nothing he could do but sit there as his student vomited up whatever he could. "Please," Shinso begged on the floor of the guest room, exhausted and scared, "make it stop."

"Hang in there, kid," Aizawa tried to encourage. "It'll pass soon." He tried to assure him as the boy caught his breath. He knelt next to him on the floor, the acidic smell wafting through the air. He could see the vomit had splashed against the kid's arms and hands. Shinso's body shook with fatigue and as his arms began to give way, Aizawa pulled the kid against his side, letting him lean against him instead of falling into the puddle. Aizawa held him and Shinso cried quietly, his arms wrapping around his sore middle. Vomiting and coughing was rough enough on the ribs, but Shinso's ribs had taken a beating before he'd gotten sick. His fingers ran through the tangled and messy purple hair, trying to provide what comfort he could. Aizawa could hear him gagging again and leaned him forward, trying to keep the boy from vomiting on himself, letting him instead continue to add to the puddle on the floor. He thanked the old gods and the new they had hardwood and not carpet. When Shinso was done vomiting, he leaned back against Aizawa and breathed.

"Sorry," he croaked out.

"Shh," Aizawa shushed him gently as he held the boy against his side, his fingers once more combing through the hair. "Don't worry about it. Focus on breathing. When you're ready we'll get you cleaned up, alright?"

"Kay." Shinso nodded as he continued to lean against his teacher. The sound of the front door unlocking let Aizawa know his husband had returned finally. It was a comfort to him, but as he felt Shinso tense beside him, he could tell it sent panic through the kid.

"Hey," Aizawa told him, holding him still as he tried to move away, eyes darting around has his breathing quickened. "It's just Hizashi."

"I gotta clean this." Shinso mumbled out, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he looked for something to clean it up with. "I gotta clean it before he sees. I gotta-"

"Hey," Aizawa interjected, giving his arm a comforting squeeze. "It's fine, Shinso. He's not gonna care. We're just worried about you."

"Shota?" Hizashi called quietly down the hall in case Shinso was still asleep.

"In here," Aizawa responded calmly before turning back to Shinso. "It's alright, Shinso. No one is angry with you. Do you understand that?" Shinso stared down at the pile of vomit as the footsteps grew closer and he nodded. It was Present Mic. Present Mic was safe. He wouldn't be angry, though if he was he understood why.

"Oh man," Hizashi said as he stepped into the room, a plastic bag in his hand. Shinso looked up at him, trying to gauge his response. Present Mic gave him a smile and lifted the bag. "Good thing I grabbed you some new clothes, eh?" He asked and Shinso just blinked at him, not really understanding. He looked down and to his embarrassment, vomit had not only splashed back at him, but it seemed he had at some point thrown up on himself. Slowly, he turned his head to look at the bed and winced at the sight. The blankets had been tossed and on the sheets and pillows was more vomit, mucus, and bile. He was a mess. "How about we get you cleaned up, ok?" Hizashi offered, stepping around to his other side and wrapping a comforting arm around Shinso. He bobbed his head and let Present Mic get him to his wobbly feet.

"Sorry about the mess," Shinso mumbled as he sniffled.

"Nah, it happens," Present Mic assured him, rubbing his arm as he guided the boy to the bathroom. He set the boy on the closed toilet seat lid and pulled out a fresh shirt, boxers, and sweat pants. He carefully folded them and set the on the ground before starting the shower. Then he opened the cabinet under the sink and pulled out a small plastic bag, handing it to Shinso who blinked at him in confusion. With a comforting smile, Present Mic explained. "Go ahead and put the dirty clothes in here. When you're done with the shower, we'll toss them in the wash. Want us to clean the clothes in your bag for ya while we're at it?" He offered. Shinso blinked at him for a moment before nodding. He took the bag in his hand and his teacher smiled at him. "I'll let ya get to it. If you need anything, just shout." Hizashi stepped out of the room and returned to the guest room where his husband was already starting to clean the mess.

"I want to take him to the hospital," Aizawa told his husband and Hizashi nodded. They both could see the blood in the vomit. There was very little, but Shinso didn't seem to be able to keep much down, including fluids. His fever was another concern. Though it had decreased a bit, it seemed to have spiked up again, not once breaking. His body was weak and struggling to fight off the infection. "He needs fluids at least. I want to see if they can give him something to calm his stomach, too. It's doing a number on his ribs and I'm worried about him breaking one."

"It can't hurt at this point." Hizashi agreed as he knelt on the floor with his husband, helping to clean up the mess. "It's bronchitis but I think the mucus is draining into his stomach. That with the excessive coughing is probably triggering his gag reflex."

"So it's probably not a stomach bug, then?" Aizawa asked and Hizashi shook his head.

"I doubt it, but nothings impossible," He said. "Especially since he'd been living outside. He could have been exposed to any bacteria or virus or cold."

"I don't think he'll want to go to the hospital." Aizawa said after a minute and Hizashi smiled.

"I don't think he can put up much of an argument right now."

Shinso sat in the tub as the shower rained down on him. He had let it wash away the vomit and now he sat, just basking in the warmth as the water pounded against his back, soothing some of his sore muscles. His head was down and resting on his knees as his arms wrapped around himself. Tears streamed down his face as his shoulders shook with silent sobs. He was so tired. He didn't want to keep fighting anymore. He just wanted to sleep. He wanted to sleep and rest. He wanted to keep food down. He didn't want to be so weak.

He didn't want to feel so afraid anymore.

Chapter Text

Shinso had been reluctant to go to the hospital to say the least. Standing in the hall in his new clothes and freshly showered, he had been able to convince himself that he felt better, really, and there was no need to go to the hospital. However, the promise of stopping the vomiting managed to get him to put his shoes on and walk out the door.

He followed Aizawa through the front doors of the hospital, wincing at the too bright lights and the low murmur of chatter that seemed both too quiet and too loud. They had left the loud blonde at home, despite his offer to join them. He hadn't changed out of his hero costume and had been working all day. Aizawa suggested he stay home and get a chance to rest. Shinso was a little relieved. Having Aizawa walk with him through the lobby of the hospital was embarrassing enough, he was happy enough it wasn't the school. He didn't want anyone seeing him like this and Present Mic was a hero that had a tendency to draw attention.

"Oh, Shinso," A calm voice called, making him pause. Shit, there goes that. Shinso turned and saw Todoroki walking over.

"Todoroki," He greeted with his scratchy voice and a dazed bob of his head. Todoroki stopped and looked over his peer. Shinso suspected he could see the pallor of his skin, the clamminess of the fever, and the even more prominent bags under his eyes.

"You look terrible," He said, blunt as ever. Shinso smirked under his medical mask and let out a small hum of amusement. "Is that why you haven't been at school?"

"Yeah," Shinso told him. He liked Todoroki. He was straightforward and minded his business in most cases. He was a quieter than most in 1A and a formidable opponent. Then something clicked. "What are you doing here?" Shinso asked, matching the boy's bluntness.

"I'm visiting my mother." He answered and Shinso winced a bit. What do you say to that?

"Sorry," He apologized, his head a little dazed from the fever. He should have been more considerate, but he couldn't think straight. "I hope she gets better soon."

"You as well." Todoroki offered as his mismatched eyes glanced over Shinso's shoulder. Anxiety crept into the purple haired boy as confusion swept across Todoroki's face. "Mr. Aizawa is here." His eyes had landed on his homeroom teacher who stood that the front desk, speaking with an administrator.

"Yeah, he brought me here," Shinso offered without thinking.

"Your parents aren't with you?" Todoroki asked, prodding gently. It was the most tact Shinso had ever seen him use.

"Out of town," Shinso lied smoothly. His chest tightened at the lie. "It's not a big deal. I'm not really-" He cut himself off with a cough, stepping back from Todoroki and turning away, hand over his mask as he coughed. He tried to stifle it, to hide just how ill he was.

"That's a bad cough," Todoroki commented as Shinso collect himself and the boy shook his head with a small chuckle.

"Yeah." Shinso said and jumped a bit when Aizawa stood next to him, seeming to appear out of nowhere. He was grateful to have the mask. That way no one could see him embarrassment.

"The nurse is ready for you." Aizawa told him before turning to Todoroki. "It's good to see you. I trust you all are staying out of trouble."

"Yes, sir," Todoroki nodded before looking back at his classmate. "Feel better soon, people have been wondering where you've been."

"Mind telling them I'll be back soon?" Shinso asked hesitantly after a moment. It was a lie but he didn't want any one to worry. 1-A had bigger things to worry about than him and frankly, he doubted whether or not people actually cared. Todoroki was probably just trying to be nice. He watched as a small smile graced the boy's face.

"I will."

The nurse helped Shinso settle in while she fired off question after question. He answered as best as he could while she poked and prodded. When she left and the doctor came back he answered the same questions. He was quickly attached to machines and had an iv dripping into his veins, no doubt giving him desperately needed hydration. Aizawa stood by, off to the side and out of the way but always within Shinso's line of sight. the boy appreciated it. Shinso wasn't exactly scared of new places or people, but people in positions of authority, adults who had control over him, especially when he was in no state to fight back, made him incredibly tense. Something about having a teacher he trusted nearby put him at ease. He let the nurses poke and prod and ask their questions and stick him with needles and sensors. Aizawa wasn't going to let them hurt him. Right?

"You're probably going to start feeling a little drowzy soon," the nurse warned him gently as she set the clipboard at the end of his bed. "We're giving you fluids mostly right now. Once you're not so dehydrated, we are going to give you some stronger medicine. Get some rest if you can and call me if you need anything, ok?" She asked with a warm smile. Shinso looked at Aizawa for a moment before nodding at her. Once she left them alone, he turned to his teacher again.

"You don't have to stay," he offered as the man settled into a plastic chair. Shinso very much wanted him to stay. In fact the thought of his teacher leaving him now sent a panic through him, but he didn't want to let Aizawa down. He could be brave. He was going to have to be brave if he wanted to be a hero, even if that career path was looking more and more unlikely.

"Do you want me to leave?" Aizawa asked, leveling him with a stare. Shinso didn't answer. He really didn't want Aizawa to leave. Instead, he watched as his teacher pulled out a laptop from the bag he had brought, opening it and turning it on. "I'm going to be doing some work. Close your eyes and try to sleep. I'm not going anywhere." Maybe it was the fever or maybe it was wishful thinking, but something in Aizawa's tone sounded reassuring.

Shinso sighed and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. He took in a slow breath, careful not to trigger another cough and exhaled, trying to relax. He did this a few times before giving up, not wanted to agitate his lungs. He lay there for a few minutes, trying to sleep. The sounds of quiet voices were growing louder and he scrunched his eyebrows. How the hell was he supposed to sleep like this? Shinso slowly blinked open his eyes and sighed. He could feel whatever they had given him starting to take effect. Everything felt slow and sluggish, like he was covered in sludge. He looked to the door, wondering who was talking. He furrowed his eyebrows as he saw Aizawa standing there, talking to Kaminari. Shinso tried to sit up a bit more, grunting at the effort and coughing a bit, catching both of their attention.

"Oh, hey, you're up!" Kaminari beamed as he brushed past an exasperated Aizawa, bouncing into the room and to the side of his bed, grinning ear to ear. "How are ya, man? You had us worried, we thought you quit on us!" Shinso just blinked at him. What the hell was going on? Where did he come from?

"What are you doing here?" Shinso asked slowly, slurring his words a bit. Kaminari didn't seem deterred. Instead he smiled brighter, almost blinding Shinso, and dropped something in his lap. The boy stared at it for a moment before gingerly picking it up. It was an envelope with his name on it.

"Todoroki told us you were here." Kaminari explained, making Shinso stare at him, further confused. "So, we wanted to make sure you knew we were waiting for you! Man, practice has been rough without you!" Kaminari laughed a little nervously. "We miss you and your quirk, that's for sure." He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

"I don't understand," Shinso said, blinking as he looked over to Aizawa. "I just saw him a few minutes ago."

"That was a few hours ago," Aizawa told him calmly as he settled back into the chair, pulling the laptop back onto his lap and Shinso's eyebrows rose to his hairline in surprise. "You fell asleep pretty quickly."

"Oh," was all the boy was able to mutter out before Kaminari pulled his attention again.

"Iida suggested I bring you the homework too," Kaminari explained, sounding a little bored as he lifted a bag with a small grimace. "I don't know about you, but I hate doing homework when I'm sick." Shinso watched as he glanced towards the teacher sitting in the corner before leaning in closer to whisper to his friend. Shinso felt his face getting hotter and tensed. "I snuck in a few comics in case you get bored." He assured him with a wink. Shinso sat there, staring in awe of the blonde, face too warm for comfort. "Woah, are you alright? You're looking kinda flushed." Kaminari asked before reaching out to touch his friend's forehead. Shinso jerked back and caught his hand reflexively, and to his horror, his heart monitor started beeping a little faster. It wasn't fast enough to worry anyone, but Aizawa glanced up from his laptop, watching silently as Kaminari slowly pulled his hand back, his own cheeks starting to get a little red. "Sorry about that, I should have figured you have a fever, ya know?" He apologized with a nervous grin as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Sorry," Shinso mumbled and Kaminari waved dismissively.

"Hey, don't worry about it!" He told him, his bright smile returning. "Just hurry up and get better, ok?" Shinso looked him over before looking at the envelope in his lap. He let his fingers trace it and he could tell there was a thin card inside. He felt a tinge of guilt as he nodded.

"Yeah, I will."

Chapter Text

"What's wrong?" Aizawa asked, breaking the silence. Shinso flinched, having been so in his head he had forgotten the quiet man was still there. Aizawa peered at him over his laptop, eyes flicking to the envelope in the boy's hands. "You've been staring at it for a while now." Shinso glanced back down at it. It was a small plain white envelope with his name written on the front. He had been looking at it with a mix of emotions. Confusion, anger, longing, and surprise mixed in him like a cocktail of drugs and it made his head spin. He was confused and surprised as to why the class seemed to care so much about whether or not he was in class. He had replaced one of their own. Why had they been so eager and ready to accept him?

On top of that confusion was anger. It was thick and heavy and made his stomach roll. It was a bitter taste in the back of his mouth. He was so angry. Shinso hated himself for being weak and getting sick, for letting himself get beaten this bad. He was training with Aizawa, why couldn't he fight back? He hated that his classmates cared so much, enough to send Kaminari with a card. He hated himself for lying to him. There was no way he could expect to stay. Aizawa had talked a good game, but Shinso knew better. He knew better than to put too much trust in anyone's word.

He longed to be able to trust his teacher. He wanted so badly to believe it would get better. Shinso wanted nothing more than to stay in this school. Maybe he could make friends. Maybe he could be a normal fucking kid. He just wanted to stay.

"It's nothing," Shinso lied as he ripped into the envelope. He looked down at the card and ran his finger over the words.

Get Better Soon, Shinso!

The words were written in dark purple with little purple music notes around it and he couldn't help but smirk. They were no doubt Jiro's doing. One day, in between matches, he and Jiro had gotten a chance to talk music. They hadn't had too much time to talk, and most of their friendship was built on swapping playlists, something he had enjoyed immensely. The swap would happen at all hours of the day and he thought back fondly to a time he had gotten a playlist late at night. It had been a bad day at home and he lay curled in on himself, cradling his stomach. It hurt too much to sleep but when he checked his phone there was the message with the link to a new playlist.

The first song had him in tears and the second song had him drifting off to sleep. Shinso couldn't find the words to thank her or eve express how much it meant. That playlist had been like a beacon of hope that night. It was still one of his favorites.

When Shinso opened the card, he was surprised to see all the different signatures in a myriad of colors. Some had written short messages and others doodled. A small handful of them, like Bakugo and Todoroki, had only written their names. That was enough to make his chest tighten.

Get better soon, man! I know you might not feel manly right now, but keep fighting!

I hope you feel better soon. We heard that you were sick and wanted to wish you well. I know it can be tempting to push yourself but don't make yourself sicker!

Take it easy!

Hope you're able to get back on your feet soon. Let me know if you would like any notes from class.

Feel better soon, dude! Made you a new playlist.

We miss you!

It went on and on and Shinso didn't quite know how to take it. He had expected animosity when he replaced Mineta, but from many it seemed like they were more relieved. They had shown him nothing but kindness and friendly competition. He'd received praise an encouragement from classmates and teammates. And when Kaminari stared at him with that awestruck smile?

"Are you alright?" Aizawa asked, once more pulling him from his thoughts. Shinso blushed a bit as he realized his heart monitor was beeping a little differently. He put the card back in the envelope and set it on the chair on top of his new hoodie before leaning back.

"They don't need to be so concerned with me," Shinso mumbled, staring at the bright ceiling.

"The class is close knit," Aizawa explained, "They have a habit of sticking their noses in each other's business. I recommend you come to terms with it now." Shinso grit his teeth as the gentle sounds of typing filled the space. "The longer you stay, the more clingy they'll get."

"Good thing I'm not staying much longer then, hu?" Shinso bit out spitefully, refusing to look at his teacher. Aizawa gave him no response, but the typing had stopped. Shinso risked a brief glance to his teacher and clenched his jaw shut. After everything he had done for him, Shinso couldn't help but resent him. Sure, Aizawa may be saving his life, but he was ruining his future. What was the point of living if he had no future? Shinso rolled over onto his side, trying not to get tangled in the chords, and put his back towards Aizawa. "I'm not an idiot. I know how this plays out."

Aizawa listened to his student's words and the slight change in heart rate. He let the words sink in. Shinso still kept him at arms length, clearly not ready to trust yet, and honestly, Aizawa couldn't blame him. He looked down at the email he had been writing and for a moment, he considered cc'ing Shinso on it, so he could be kept in the loop. However, maybe it was a conversation he should save for when the boy was feeling a little better.

He waited until the boy's breathing changed and stood, saving his work and closing his laptop. Shinso had fallen back asleep and the man stood and stretched, letting out a quiet grunt and shuffling from the room in search of coffee. There was a buzz in his pocket and he pulled out his phone.

"Hey, Hizashi," Shota greeted as he walked through the hall.

"Hey, babe!" Hizashi greeted brightly. "How's our boy doing? Settling in alright?"

"Hm," Aizawa nodded to himself before elaborating, "He's got his defenses up high again, so I think he's on the mend."

"Oh boy," Hizashi sighed and Aizawa could practically see him pursing his lips in thought, "What happened?"

"He bumped into Todoroki on his way in," Aizawa explained, "He must have let it slip because Kaminari showed up with a card from the class."

"Aw!" Hizashi cooed, "but I don't understand. I would have thought that'd cheer him up a bit."

"I think if he was more secure in his spot in the class it would have," Aizawa pointed out as he poured himself a cup of coffee and carefully added a lid to the to-go cup. "It seemed to depress him if anything. He snapped a bit at me a few minutes ago. Something about how this is going to play out." There was a moment of silence on the other line as he paid for his coffee and left the cafeteria.

"He's still worrying about that, then?" Hizashi thought for a moment, collecting his words carefully, "I can't say I blame him. I really think we should try and take full custody of him."

"Did you see the email I sent you?" Aizawa asked as he sipped the bitter coffee.

"Nope!" Hizashi popped the "p" as he spoke. "I only just got home."

"Sorry I am not there to greet you," Aizawa said. He missed his husband. As stoic as he was, he loved nothing more than reveling in the comfort of his home.

"Psh! You're there to take care of our son!" Hizashi teased, making him snort.

"Hizashi," Aizawa warned half heartedly, a small tug at the corner of his lips. "I sent Nedzu and his case worker a request to take full custody. I explained his desire to remain in this school, outlined the benefits for his physical and mental health, yada-yada, you'll see it all." He took another sip as Hizashi sucked in an excited breath. "Yeah, I'm confident Nedzu will agree with us. His case worker has been helpful so far, so there is a good chance we will get approved."

"We're gonna be parents!" Hizashi sang excitedly and Aizawa couldn't help but chuckle. "We're gonna be parents!"

"Hizashi," Aizawa called but his husband was too busy singing to the cat, "Hizashi," Aizawa said again, catching his attention, "Guardians. We're hoping to be his guardians. I don't think he's open to the idea of new parents. Let's just play this by ear, alright? We can't even be sure he'll want to stay with us. I just want him to have the option to stay."

"If he stays, you gotta let me redo his room," Hizashi told him firmly and Aizawa couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"If he stays," Aizawa stated, "you can help him decorate the room."

Chapter Text

He woke himself up with his coughing and tried to sit up, wanting to ease the discomfort. His chest and back was sore from all the coughing and vomiting. How long had he been dealing with this? It felt like weeks. When he had finally managed to catch his breath, he noticed the plastic chair next to his bed was vacant and guilt started to gnaw at him. Shinso's last words to Aizawa were not kind. If he wanted any hope of staying in the school, being direspectful to his teacher was the worst way to go about it. The man had gone out of the way to house, feed, dress him. Hell, the only reason he was in the hospital getting better was because of Aizawa and Present Mic.

Shinso had acted like a spoiled, ungrateful child and he wasn't surprised Aizawa had left him. Shit, he'd leave him too if Shinso was in his shoes.

"How did you sleep?" the rough voice of his teacher called from his spot at the door. Shinso's eyebrows went up in surprise.

"Fine, thanks," Shinso kept it simple. In truth, he wanted to just lay back and pass out for a few more days. He was exhausted but he shouldn't keep sleeping. "And you?"

"Well enough," Aizawa shifted away from the door frame and stepped inside, a cup of coffee in his hands. Shinso eyed it, jealousy spiking. He could kill for some caffeine. Aizawa let out a grunt as he sat back in the seat, settling in. "I apologize if I made you worry."

"Worry?" Shinso asked carefully as his teacher sipped his drink and hummed.

"Hm," he swallowed, "that I had left."

"I wasn't," Shinso corrected.

"Hm," was all Aizawa gave him. "How are you feeling? It seems your fever has dripped and the nurses told me you are responding well to the medicine. You're probably going to be stuck with a cough for a while, though." Shinso listened as his teacher spoke, absorbing the information and pleased to notice he could actually retain the information given to him.

"I'm alright," Shinso told him with a nod of his head. He swallowed a bit, the apology itching in the back of his throat, but Aizawa never gave him a chance.

"I'm glad to hear that," his teacher sighed, sounding the opposite of what he said. Shinso furrowed his eyebrows as once more his teacher stood with a grunt. "A few of your classmates are here to see you." Shinso's face went blank, completely at a loss for words as a million questions flooded his head. He sputtered out weird sounds, trying to formulate a word, but Aizawa continued to the door. "Since you're feeling better, I'll let them in." Aizawa stepped out into the hall and was quickly replaced with his classmates.

"Hey, man!" Kirishima greeted brightly, squeezing through the doorframe with Kaminari.

"Hey, you look a lot better today!" Kaminari teased before giving him a wink and elbowing Kirishima. "I bet he's got a super cute nurse."

"Leave him alone," Jiro chided, stepping into the room behind them with Momo in tow. "He probably feels crappy enough without your bad jokes."

"How are you feeling, Shinso?" Momo asked him sweetly as she pulled notes out of her bag. "I brought the notes from class. I figured they may help with the homework."

"Oh, come on," Kaminari whined. "No one wants to worry about home work when their sick."

"Thank you," Shinso said as he gently took the notes. "What are you guys doing here?" His purple eyes flicked over them, noticing their uniforms. "How did you manage to get out of class?"

"Hu?" Kirishima asked before giving a wide grin, "School's over for the day. We wanted to swing by and keep you company." Kirishima explained their intentions as he scoot another chair closer to the bed and sat. Kaminari made himself right at home and sat at the edge of the bed, leaning back on a hand. Momo took Aizawa's vacant seat and Jiro opted to stand.

"Oh," Shinso mumbled as he looked around at the small group, fighting embarrassment. "I only just woke up. Sorry."

"Dude, don't worry about it. Bronchitus is a nightmare to fight." Kirishima assured him. "I had it as a kid once and I thought I was gonna die!"

"Wait, really?" Jiro snorted, crossing her arms.

"Yeah, it felt like I was drowning," Kirishima explained and Shinso nodded, glad someone understood his pain.

"I don't know what's worse, that or the coughing," Shinso tried to joke, giving a weak smile. He wrapped his arms around his middle as though to protect it. "This thing's more brutal than any practices you guys have put me through." He got a few laughs from them and he couldn't help but smile a little wider. Their smiles and laughter was more infectious than the sickness.

"Jeeze, you make it sound like you're gonna come back to school with abs that rival Kirishima," Jiro teased and Shinso tried to ignore the stabbing pain in his gut. He was only going to have them for a small while. Might as well enjoy it right?

So that's what he did.

Shinso sat with his four classmates. he listened as they updated him on the latest class drama between A and B. They talked about what screw ups they faced during practice and any worries they had about an upcoming test. They gossiped and laughed and teased each other and Shinso hated he couldn't stay with them longer.

"Sorry, guys," Shinso said as he began unhooking some of the sensors and tossing back the thin sheet. He swung his legs over the edge and let his feet touch the floor. "I gotta piss."

"All those fluids go through you real quick, hu?" Kaminari asked with a knowing tone.

"Yeah, they had an IV in me earlier," Shinso told them. "I guess they took it out while I slept." Shinso leaned forward and stood a bit too quickly. The room spun and blurred and he stumbled. The sound of the plastic chair skittering back rang in his ears and strong hands held him.

"Woah, you alright?" Kirishima asked.

"Do you want us to grab a nurse?" Momo asked gently.

"No," Shinso shook his head and blinked. "No, I'm alright," he assured and Kirishima slowly let him go, hovering incase he fell again. "Sorry."

"No worries!" the red head assured with a smile. "Just glad I caught you in time! I don't think Mr. Aizawa would like it too much if we broke your head." Shinso snorted at that but bit his tongue. He didn't need to worry them now.

"Want one of us to walk with you?" Kaminari offered, sounding genuine. "Don't wanna fall in front of all the cute nurses, do you?" There's the joke.

"No, I'm good," Shinso chuckled before shuffling from the room. "I'll be back." When he stepped into the hall he looked around and took in a slow breath. He stopped when it got too tight, but still had to cough. He continued down the hall, trying to ignore the lightheadedness as he struggled to suppress his cough. He idly wondered where his teacher had snuck off to but didn’t ponder on it too long. He wanted to enjoy the company he had waiting for him back in his room.

He continued down the hall and was surprised to see how out of breath he was. Shinso didn’t have to go far but by the time he reached the bathroom, the darkness was creeping around the edge of his vision and he was wheezing disgustingly. Shinso tried to clear his throat but triggered another cough. He knew he was sick, but this was ridiculous.

He didn’t have time to be sick. So he did his business quickly and exited the bathroom. Shinso took it easy on the way back, taking his time and leaning against the wall to catch his breath. The lights were so bright and he could practically hear them buzzing.

As he neared the end of the hall, he heard raised voices just around the corner. Instead of going back into his room, he furrowed his purple eyebrows and shuffled past, heading to the front desk where an angry woman seemed to be berating the staff.

When he turned the corner, he realized his mistake. Shinso forgot how to breathe and it felt as though someone had dumped cold water on him. Her angry eyes zoned in on him and he froze.

No, no, no. Shit!

“There you are!” She seethed as she stepped around the desk, ignoring the protests of the administrator. “I can’t believe you.” She said as she stepped closer, handing reaching out to grab him. Shinso couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. He felt her talon grab him by the arm and start to tug him. “Let’s go, we’re leaving.” She announced and turned to leave, pulling him along. “What the hell are you even doing here?” She asked and Shinso pulled his arm out of her grip. He opened his mouth to say something, but the sudden inhale triggered a cough. He covered his mouth and tried to suppress it, to tell her he was sick, but he couldn’t. The woman let out a frustrated grunt and smacked him in the arm, making him flinch. “Stop that, right now!” She insisted. “You’re fine, let’s go.” She grabbed him again and he struggled to pull away this time.

“Stop,” he managed to choke out, “Let –“

SMACK

Shinso’s head was forced to the side, his cheek aflame, but it didn’t stay that way. She grabbed his face and forced him to look at her.

“I’ve had enough of your shitty attitude lately,” she told him quietly. “You’re lucky it’s me here to get you.” That made alarm bells sound angrily in his head. She had never laid a hand on him before, preferring to let her husband do the disciplining. She was angry enough to strike him this time and was trying to drag Shinso back to him. He didn’t want to know how angry the man was. She dropped her hand to his wrist, grabbing it tight enough to make him wince and jerked him towards her. “We’re leaving.”

“No,” Shinso gasped out, trying to remember how to breathe. He couldn’t breathe. His heart was racing and the black edges around his vision crept in as his head spun. “No,” he repeated and she rounded on him, slapping him again. A few of the nurses who had seen gasped at the violence and she brought her hand down against his cheek again, making him stumble back, slipping on the linoleum and falling on his butt.

“Get up!” she hissed, reaching out to drag him to his feet, but someone stopped her. '

“Keep your hands off my student,” Aizawa told her firmly as Shinso sat, staring up in fear. His chest was heaving and he couldn’t breathe. He was suffocating. He was panicking.

“Shinso!” Kaminari’s voice called to him and he looked behind him, seeing their shocked faces as they came running down the hall. The blonde dropped next to him but Shinso’s attention was pulled back to his teacher and foster mom.

“Excuse you!” She shouted, yanking her hand out of his grip. Aizawa released her but stood close. “Who do you think you are?”

“I’m his teacher.” Aizawa answered dryly. “I brought him here.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” She shouted. “I’m his mother! I have a right to know where my child is! Why did you even bring him here? He’s clearly fine.” She continued to shout, waiving a hand in his direction. Shinso was vaguely aware of a hand on his shoulder, but he was too focused on the threat in front of him.

“He’s sick and requires medical attention,” was all Aizawa told her and turned to the administrator. “Call security and have her removed.”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” She shouted at the poor woman by the desk. The administrator picked up the phone anyway. “Shinso!” She snapped at the boy, making him flinch. “Shinso, get off your ass. We’re leaving now.”

“Kaminari, get him back to the room,” Aizawa instructed and Shinso felt hands on him, pulling him to his feet, but he shrugged them off.

“Shinso, either you leave with me or I’m having this man arrested for kidnapping!” She threatened and the boy panicked. Could she do that? Would they arrest him? Was that an actual issue? What? What does he do?

“Shinso, you need to breathe,” Aizawa told him firmly, calling him by name in hopes of providing some grounding, “Go back to the room and let me handle this.”

“I’m calling the police!” She shouted as she pulled out her phone. Shinso panicked.

“No!” he shouted and lurched forward, wanting to grab the phone. The lobby erupted into chaos but Shinso didn’t notice. Instead the bright and nosy room spun, making him drop to the ground. People shouted and colors blurred together as everything slowed. Something had stopped him from smacking his face into the linoleum. Angry shouts echoed in his ears unintelligibly and the colors faded to black. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. There was too much everything. He just wanted to breathe.

Whatever had kept him from face planting gave him enough support to keep him upright. Whatever it was, it was warm and comforting. Shinso was scared. So he closed his eyes and leaned against that support, letting himself slip into the dark.

The shouting finally stopped.

He hoped he hadn’t caused too much trouble.

Chapter Text

“Mr. Aizawa!” Kaminari called to his teacher, panic sieving his chest as Jiro dropped next to him. His teacher pulled his attention away from the irate woman and looked down to see what was wrong. Shinso was leaning against Kaminari, clearly out cold, as the blond gently cradled the boys head against his chest, almost protectively. Kaminari stared up at his teacher with fear, clearly at a loss for what to do. “Mr. Aiazwa, I think he passed out!” The teacher looked at his students, all looking at him for instruction. Before he could speak, the woman scoffed.

“Wake him up!” she insisted sharply and tried to step towards him only to bounce against Aizawa’s unyielding hand.

“Have a nurse help you get him back to the room,” he instructed firmly, “and do NOT leave it until I come to get you.” He eyed each one of them as the woman seethed. “Do you understand?” As his students nodded, Aizawa turned his attention back to the horrible woman he kept at bay.

“This is rediculous!” she insisted. “Who do you think you are?”

“You will leave, either on your own or escorted. I don’t care which,” he explained firmly, never once raising his voice.

“Not with out my son,” she bit at him and Aizawa bristled, grabbing her arm and pulling her dangerously close. His voice was low and quiet, but anyone could see this was not a gentle whisper.

“If you really thought of him as a son, he wouldn’t be here.” Aizawa practically bit out every word to her, watching her pale.

“W-what has he told you?” she asked, fear creeping into her face as her confidence waned. She tried to pull out of his grip. “He’s lying.”

“He hasn’t told me anything, but I’m not blind,” he held her firmly, making her wince, “and I’m not an idiot. Now leave.” Aizawa roughly released her arm and she couldn’t help but real back in shock. He glared at her, silently daring her to argue, but she finally got some sense and fled.

“Is he alright?” Momo asked worriedly, her hands resting on Jiro’s shoulders as Kaminari and the nurse got Shinso back into the bed. The nurse checked him quickly and hooked him back up to his sensors before answering.

“Yes,” she assured and the tension in everyone’s shoulder’s began to ease. “It seems he’s hyperventilated.” She gently grabbed a second pillow from under the bed and handed it to Kirishima. “Put this under his legs,” she instructed gently before turning to Kaminari. “Go around to the other side. There’s a latch I need you to unlock for me.”

“Hm,” Shinso hummed as his head rolled to the side. He was coming around. And Jiro saw his eyes starting to flutter open.

“He’s waking up.” Jiro told them. Kaminari moved around to the opposite side, wondering why the nurse didn’t ask another nurse to help her. Though if he thought about it more, he was happy to help his friend in any way he could. Kaminari quickly found the latch and undid it with a loud clang, just as the nurse unlatched her side. The loud clang of the metal and the slight jerk of the bed being leaned back startled Shinso and he tried to sit up, only to feel hands on his shoulders, forcing him down.

No. Let go.

Shinso tried to shrug them off and sit up, but they grabbed him more firmly, forcing him down. There was a strange warbling noise. Was someone talking? He couldn’t hear what they were saying. He just wanted them to let go.

Let go. I can’t breathe. Don’t touch me.

“Hey, dude, calm down,” Kaminari said as he tried to help the nurse keep him still. “You gotta lie down, you’re gonna hurt yourself!”

“What’s wrong with him?” Kirishima asked, staying out of the nurse’s way as Shinso started to struggle more, coughing and choking as he tried to speak. She ignored him, speaking with the panicking boy instead.

“Shinso? Shinso, this is nurse Hina,” she spoke softly, making sure to keep her grip light so as to not hurt him. “You passed out. You’re alright, but I need you to lay back.”

“Don’t,” was all he could mumble as the nurse and Kaminari kept him down. “Stop.” His hands reached up and out, one of them gripped Kaminari’s shirt tightly. Kaminari rested his free hand over that tense fist to try and reassure him.

“Hey, Shinso, it’s me.” Kaminari told him. “Dude, it’s just me, but you gotta keep still.”

“Let go,” Shinso gasped out, still struggling, though he was getting weaker and weaker. “Let go, let go.” He just wanted them to stop touching him.

Please, just stop touching me.

“He’s going to either pass out again or tire himself out,” the nurse explained calmly. “Shinso, you need to keep still. Can you do that?”

“Stop, let go,” he rasped. “I’m fine.”

“You’re sick, Shinso,” the nurse repeated. “You’re sick and you need to lie still for a bit. Can you do that for me?” she asked again as he slowly began to lose the will to fight, though his hand was still tightly gripping Kaminari’s shirt. His eyes were dazed and sweat shone across his forehead.

Slowly, she let go. Shinso continued to try and sit up, but Kaminari kept a hand on his shoulder. Shinso seemed less overwhelmed as the nurse stepped back, pulling Kirishima away from the bed. She watched as Shinso tried to sit up, only to gently be pushed back down. He would lay there, his eyes unfocused for a minute, before trying again.

“Wha’s goin’ on?” He asked, his chest heaving. His purple eyes looked around and landed on the blonde above him. “Wha’ happened?” Kaminari looked to his friends for advice but they just shrugged their shoulders at him. Kaminari swallowed before looking back at his friend, patting the tense hand on his shirt.

“I dunno, dude,” he admitted quietly. “You went to the bathroom, but then we heard shouting. Some angry lady was hitting you.”

“Did she find me?” Shinso asked, making Kaminari furrow his eyebrows in confusion. Shinso closed his eyes and sighed, exhaustion setting in. “I don’t want to go back.”

“Go back where?” Kaminari asked.

“Jeez, what the hell happened to him?” Jiro asked quietly.

“I think that was enough excitement for the week,” Aizawa said as he stepped into the room. He had witness most of it from the hall and opted to stay out of it, hoping he could find some comfort with his peers. As he stepped in, his students turned to look at him, concern and questions clear on their faces. “All I can tell you is he will be fine,” Aizawa stated, cutting them off before they could bombard him with questions. “I trust the four of you will use discretion in this matter.” He eyed each one of them firmly. “I understand this is a tight nit class, but I ask you keep what you witnessed today to yourself.”

“Yes, sir.”

Hizashi sat on the couch, mug of tea in his hand and a worn out and old book in his lap. Music sand softly from his phone, filling the quiet apartment. The cat lay across his legs, purring like an engine. He settled against the pillow that supported his back and though he enjoyed being able to stretch out his long legs on the couch, he missed his grumpy husband. As he sipped his tea, he found it was hard to focus on the old English words telling the story. His mind was far to preoccupied with the story unfolding around him. His green eyes took in the sight of the apartment. It was his home. It was their home.

Though the living room was fairly tidy, the kitchen table was a mess. Papers stacked and scattered, unopened mail piled in the center, a laptop long forgotten with a work bag taking up space on a chair. He was glad no one was home. He didn't really feel like cleaning it up. The dishes were done and left to dry, but other than that, the counters had remained fairly clean. The light hanging over the kitchen table was still on, casting the room with a warm glow. It seemed to stretch across the living room and mingle with the glow of the lamp on the end table that allowed him to read.

Hizashi always felt safe and cozy in his home and he wondered if Shinso would feel the same way. Surely it would be difficult for all three of them to adjust. Would he see them as parents or just his teachers. Which would they all prefer? How was this going to work with school? Would he feel comfortable with his class mates knowing? Would he tell them they were married? What if he wanted to have a friend over to study? What if he wanted to bring a girl home? What if he wanted to bring a boy home?

Would he even be open to staying with them?

Hizashi was jarred out of his thoughts as his phone rang. the cat gave an indignant meow as the man shifted his legs and grabbed his phone, a smile creeping across his face as he saw it was his husband.

"Hello, my handsome husband!" Hizashi all but cooed into the phone, "Are you calling to save me from my loneliness?"

"We might have a problem," Aizawa cut through the flirtation and went straight to the point. Hizashi paused for a moment and sat up, waiting for his husband to continue. He put his book and tea on the table and swung his legs around, setting his feet on the floor.

"What's wrong?" the blonde asked, ready to grab his shoes and run out the door if needed. The tired sigh from the other line had him sitting back though. It sounded like Aizawa had some drama to spill.

"His foster mother showed up at the hospital today," Hizashi hissed with a grimace, sensing that it was an unpleasant situation. "She actually tried to drag him out of the hospital and when he refused she slapped him."

"She slapped him?" Hizashi almost shouted, trying to be mindful of his quirk.

"A few times," Aizawa confirmed. "I was able to make her leave before she did much else, but it already shook him too badly."

"What happened?" Hizashi prodded gently.

"Shinso...he ended up passing out. From what I understand he hyperventilated. I'm guessing with his lungs as filled as they were, it didn't take much." Aizawa paused and Hizashi could practically hear him mulling over his words. "When he woke up, he was lashing out and panicking but he managed to grab onto Kaminari."

"He didn't hurt him, did he?" Hizashi asked, wondering just how bad the episode was.

"No, just grabbed his shirt," Aizawa explained before sighing. "And it took him a while to let go."

"Oh no,” Hizashi mumbled.

“Yeah,” Aizawa confirmed.

“Are they dating?” Hizashi asked. “Can we ask that? Does he even know that we know?”

“I don’t think they are dating,” Aizawa told him. “Shinso seems to keep everyone at arm’s length. I doubt he’s allowed himself to pursue anyone. That doesn’t mean the feelings aren’t there.”

“So like…what do we do?” Hizashi asked as the cat climbed back into his lap. He idly stroked the fur. “I really don’t believe any of his foster parents bothered to give him “the talk.” Do we do that? Should we call Nemuri?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Aizawa grunted. “I don’t want to out him even more if he’s not ready.” Aizawa paused and silence covered the line for a moment. Hizashi waited, fingers brushing through the cat’s fur and letting his own mind wander a bit. “Speaking of coming out…” Aizawa started carefully. Hizashi smiled softly, though his husband couldn’t see it.

“It was going to come out sometime, babe,” Hizashi pointed out with a snicker. “You work with kids for a living. Did you really think they wouldn’t pick up on anything? I’m honestly surprised they haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Are you sure you’re alright with this?” He asked. The two had come to the same conclusion. Having Shinso live with them meant there was a significant chance the couple would be outed, potentially very publicly. While Hizashi was comfortable in the public eye, Aizawa avoided publicity. They had managed to make it work until now.

“You’re the one always living in the shadows,” Hizashi teased before giving a real answer. “Why don’t we just play it by ear?” He suggested. “We wait until he’s better. We don’t even know if he’s staying yet.”

“Yeah,” Aizawa sighed after a moment, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He had gotten so wrapped up in everything that had happened, he started to get ahead of himself. He really needed some sleep.

“Want me to take over for tonight?” Hizashi offered, knowing what his husband was thinking.

“Sure,” Aizawa smiled slightly to himself. “I could go for a nap.”

Chapter Text

"Good morning!" A cheery voice greeted him as Shinso slowly cracked open his eyes. His purple eyes fell on a very casual Present Mic. The blonde sat with a book in his lap and a bag by his feet. Where was Aizawa? Did he do something wrong? Was he mad? "Ah," Present Mic seemed to read his thoughts, "Shoto went home to get some sleep. I volunteered to sit with you. Hope you don't mind the company."

"Sorry," Shinso mumbled, his voice hoarse. "You don't have to."

"Hey, don't worry about it, kiddo," Hizashi dismissed. "We don't mind. You're down pretty bad. I don't think either of us would feel comfortable just leavin' ya here, ya dig?" Shinso couldn't help but smirk as the radio personality began to shine through.

"Everyone gets colds," Shinso said before coughing. Present Mic waited with a pleasant smile as the boy coughed and cleared his throat, "I'll be fine," he tried to assure. He would be fine. Shinso wasn't worried, so they shouldn't be worried either.

"Hey, kid?" Present Mic asked gently. Shinso looked at him, quirking a purple eyebrow. "We're still going to worry about you." The statement hit Shinso like a truck. What do you say to that? They were going to worry about him no matter what he said or did. Why? Why did they care so much? Why did it bother him that they cared so much? How does he make them stop? "You're our student, and you've had a heck of a wild ride. Despite what you guys may believe, you're still just kids and it's the adults' jobs to look out for you guys." Shinso eyed him warily. Why was he saying all this? "So take it easy for a bit, alright? We've got your back!" Present Mic gave him a shining smile and a cheesy thumbs up. Shinso stared for a minute at his outlandish teacher before a grin broke out across his face. The longer he stared at his teacher, the more he struggled. He couldn't hold it back.

Shinso laughed.

Then his laughter turn to coughing which sent Present Mic into a whirlwind of apologies which only made Shinso laugh and cough more. This cycle continued for a short while, Shinso coughing and laughing while Present Mic practically fussed over him, trying to calm him down. This was how Aizawa found them. He lingered in the door way with a soft smile. He watched as his bright and energetic husband hovered around Shinso, trying not to touch him but wanting to try to help him catch his breath. His fussing and worrying seemed to make Shinso laugh which made him keep coughing.

Aizawa was relieved to see the smile on the boy's face.

"Seems like you're feeling a little better," Aizawa said calmly, catching both of their attention. Shinso was slowly able to catch his breath and smiled weakly at his more stoic teacher.

"I thought you went home," Shinso said as he cleared his throat.

"I did," Aizawa told him as he stepped into the room and nodded at his husband. "I'm here to relieve him."

"Yep!" Present Mic agreed brightly, giving Shinso a blinding smile. "Someone's gotta keep your class alive. If there's no teacher, they'll all end up in Recovery Girl's office." Shinso snorted at the assessment, amused by the accuracy. "And we all know how much she'd like that!"

"She'd kill us," Aizawa mumbled, making Present Mic chuckle quietly. Aizawa turned his attention to the boy in the bed. "I spoke with the doctor. They are pleased with your recovery and are willing to discharge you today if you feel you're ready to leave." Shinso sat bolt upright in the bed at that, though really that just meant sitting up a bit more. He glanced between his two teachers, looking for something. Were they lying? He could leave? What was the catch? Where was he being discharged to? Shinso sat back, his previously surprised look smoothing to his usual warry indifference. The adults picked up on it immediately as it wasn't exactly subtle. "What's on your mind?"

"Where am I going after this?" Shinso asked slowly, judging their reactions. He didn't want to impose himself on them further, but could he survive going back to his foster parents? The thought brought memories of the night before flashing through his head and his face flushed read. "Oh, oh she was here last night?" He asked carefully, looking between his teachers again. Present Mic gave him a strangely sad smile and his stomach sank. She had won, hadn't she?

He was going back to that hell hole.

"Your foster mother was here, yes," Aizawa told him. "I don't know how much of it you remember, but you ended up passing out." Shinso remembered the slaps and the panic. He remembered the hands holding him down and the comforting yellow color that had eased him to sleep. Other than that, it was mostly a blur. "You will not be going back to that household," Aizawa's calm voice assured him, cutting through the growing anxiety that was making his head spin. "You can either come back to our place or you can return to the school's infirmary. It's your choice, as always."

"I-" Shinso hesitated. He wanted nothing more than to go back to that small apartment that felt so safe. He wanted to fall asleep on the couch again with the cat purring near his head. He wanted to wake up and know he'd be safe. He wanted to sit a their kitchen table and long for the coffee that smelled so divine. "If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to stay with you two for a little longer."

"We figured as much," Present Mic teased, throwing the boy for a loop. The blonde's smile was so bright and genuine. Did they really not mind? "You're welcome to stay as long as you need, kiddo." He watched as his teacher picked up the bag that rested by his chair, putting the strap over his shoulder. "I better get going. I'll see ya later, ya dig?" He gave the boy an exagerated wink before kissing his husband on the cheek. Shinso just sat, kinda awkward. Should he look away?

"Bring home dinner," Aizawa told him as Hiazashi kept walking. The blonde turned and pouted.

"Aw man, when are you gonna cook?" He whined but kept walking. Aizawa didn't answer him and let the blonde slip out of the room and down the hall, leaving the two in silence. Aizawa sat in the plastic chair, once more returning to his post, ready to fend off any angry foster parent or over exuberant student wanting to wish Shinso well.

"Are you feeling better?" Aizawa asked, breaking the silence. Shisnso raised his eyebrows and thought over the question. His took stock of his body aches and pains. His chest still felt tight and he still had a bit of a cough. His ribs ached but his throat didn't hurt as bad and neither did his head. He felt pretty gross and in desperate need of a shower but no longer felt like his body was on fire. When his stomach grumbled with hunger, he knew his answer.

"Yeah," Shinso answered with a small smile as he leaned his head back against the pillow. "Tired, but better."

"You have a bit before the doctor is going to do his final check," Aizawa explained. "Go ahead and get some more sleep. I'll make you something when we get home." Shinso closed his eyes and rolled the words around in his head. He hated how excited he was to go back to Aizawa's place.

"Yeah," Shinso agreed, his words slurring as he started to slip back into the dreaming world, "that sounds nice."

Chapter Text

Thunder rattled the windows in their panes and Shinso rolled over and pulled the blanket tighter around him. He coughed and though his body ached still, he noticed it was getting easier. While he still felt like shit, Shinso was on the mend. As the rain pounded against the window, he lay there thinking. A part of him was eager to get over this damn illness and get back to school. Another part of him was afraid to be well again.

Aizawa had extended an offer to stay until he was better in order to ensure he did in fact get better. What happens when he's not sick? What happens when that time is up? He'll be moved. Will the new foster parents let him go to school still? Would they be better or worse? What should he do? Aizawa said they would work with the school to keep him enrolled, but Shinso didn’t exactly have much faith in adults. They always promised too much and delivered too little.

The quiet mew of the cat was the only warning he had before the cat jumped onto the bed behind him, making the bed dip a bit. Shinso felt the cat walk across the bed, its soft paws pressing into him as it walked over him before curling against his legs. His heart ached and he reached down to pet the cat, earning happy purrs. Lightening flashed, illuminating the dark room before thunder followed. Despite his fears regarding his recovery, laying there in the warm bed with a cozy cat was worlds better than that abandoned building he had been sleeping in. The bed was soft and warm and though his stomach rumbled, he didn't get up, opting to lay there a little longer, shivering at the sound of the unforgiving wind. He pulled his arm away from the cat and shivered under the blanket once more.

Lightening flashed as thunder clapped so suddenly he was actually startled.

As he lay there in the dark, listening to the storm rage on, he realized there was another sound. Shinso blinked and slowly sat up, head turning to the door. How had he not noticed the noise sooner? He chalked it up to his cold. His stomach rumbled and he figured now was the time to get up, not only to investigate but to also find food. He gently tossed the blanket off of him and let his feet it the floor. He made his way to the door and paused as he held the doorknob in his hand. The light spilling in from under it told him someone was still awake, though the music should have been enough to tell him that. As he slowly let the door ease open, the light and jazz filled the room. His stomach rumbled again and he rested a hand on it as he stepped into the hall.

Shinso slowly made his way down the hall, floor boards creaking quietly as thunder rolled through the apartment. Even the rumblings of his stomach and the voice of Billie Holiday couldn't drown out the wind and the rain. He wondered who was playing jazz. His money was on Present Mic since he seemed to be all about music. As he stepped into the living space, he froze, suddenly feeling flooded with conflicting emotions.

In the living room sway the two men who had given him temporary shelter. The two men who cared for him, advocated for him, and provided for him held each other close as they swayed in time to the music. Their foreheads were pressed together and their eyes were closed. Eraserhead and Present Mic were clearly still very much in love, he could see it in how they interacted every day, not just now. It was such a stark contrast to the other households he had stayed in. Most of the parents seemed to hate each other in some way, constantly fighting and shouting. It was worse for him when the couples got along as they tended to direct their anger and hatred towards him. These two were different. Sure, Present Mic was loud at times, but he was never angry with him or Aizawa. Had he even heard Aizawa yell before?

The living room was illuminated by the soft glow of a lamp, though lightening flashed through the window, followed by the rolling thunder. The two adults before him seemed to be worlds away, completely absorbed in each other and wrapped in the soft music and warm love. Shinso felt something unpleasant in his stomach. A part of him wanted to scowl at the scene, to scoff and walk away. Shinso was a stranger to affection, genuine affection, so he had grown to believe it wasn't for him. He didn't need it.

But god, did he want it.

Shinso wanted loving and supportive parents. He wanted to have adults he could trust. He wanted a home where he could let down his guard, even just a little. Shinso wanted parents he could love who would love him back. The affection and kindness the two had shown him over the last few days was more than he had received in his life. They held his hair back when he was sick, took him to the hospital when he got worse, and stayed by his side when he needed them most. Shinso almost resented them for it. How could they give him so much care only to rip it away and toss him back into a cold and unforgiving foster family? How could they be so cruel as to dangle this hope for a warm home, show him how it could be, knowing it would only be temporary? They were showing him a future he wanted so desperately that he knew he’d never have.

Shinso was angry.

Shinso was jealous.

Shinso was hungry.

To his embarrassment, his grumbling stomach decided he had waited long enough. The sound echoed through the room and alerted the two adults in the living room. Shinso watched as Present Mic released his husband's shoulders so fast you would have thought the touch burned. The blonde flushed pink and grew visibly flustered while Aizawa simply looked at the boy over his shoulder, his hands still on Present Mic's hips, keeping the man close.

"Ah, you're up," Aizawa greeted him with a nod.

"Sorry," Shinso looked away, feeling his own cheeks get warm as he rubbed his arm nervously. He felt bad for ruining the tender moment. He felt like he had done that a lot. This was their home, their sanctuary, and Shinso had invaded. Maybe it would be better if he left. Maybe he could stomach staying at the school's infirmary now. "Didn't mean to bother you."

"You didn't," Aizawa assured him as he finally let go of the blushing blonde, "we're just waiting for dinner to finish. You're free to join us." Shinso looked between the two, feeling as though he had intruded on what was supposed to be a romantic night. Shinso's stomach rumbled again.

"Sure," he accepted at last. "I'll leave now, then," he said slowly as he turned to leave. He noticed his blonde teacher giving him a confused look and paused, lifting his purple eyebrows, looking at the two adults, sensing they wanted to say something.

"No, kiddo," he explained, shaking his head a bit. "You're free to hang out here if you'd like. If you want to watch TV I can turn off the music." Present Mic moved to turn it off, but Shinso spoke up, stopping him.

"That's ok," he shrugged, "I kinda like it." He swallowed after the confession. Encouraged by the happy expression on Present Mic's face, he dared to ask a question.

“Is…” he hesitated, glancing between the two adults, expecting to see them tensing. When Aizawa’s hair did not stand on end, he continued. “Is this Billie Holiday?” He asked and he had to blink in surprise when Present Mic beamed, clapping his hands together.

“Oh! Another Lady Day fan!” He announced excitedly as his husband stepped away, rolling his eyes as he sat on the couch, slouching.

“Lady Day?” Shinso asked, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth and coughing a bit. “I’ve never-“ he was caught off by a harsher cough but Present Mic didn’t seem to mind.

“That’s just what some people call her, especially in the States,” he explained as Shinso collected himself. Present Mic waved his hand in direction of the record player. Shinso looked over it. It was simple, portable, and it rested on a stand with shelves. The shelves were stacked with records. “We’ve got a ton of albums and you strike me as a music fan.” Present Mic stepped over to it and sat, patting the floor next to him, encouraging the boy to join him. Shinso shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking to Aizawa as though for reassurance. The dark haired man sat with his head leaned back and eyes closed. He would not be coming to his rescue any time soon. Shinso stepped forward and cautiously sat next to the blonde.

“So, what tickles your fancy?” Present Mic asked and Shinso looked at him for a moment, thinking. He almost wanted to ask another question but decided against it, wanting to play it safe. No need to push his luck.

“Uhm, I don’t know what you have,” Shinso stated, his way of asking for a chance to browse through. Present Mic smiled and began pointing to a few different portions and sections, showing what all they had. The two sat there for a while, talking about music and bands and singers. Shinso was surprised at Present Mic’s knowledge of some of the back stories for the songs or the bands, especially since the range of music types was so varied. How did he have the time to learn all of this?

Aizawa rested on the couch, watching through cracked eyes. The two sat on the floor, cat in Shinso’s lap, looking at the albums. At one point Present Mic swapped the vinyls, introducing Shinso to a new band. For the first time in what felt like months, he saw Shinso finally start to relax, truly relax. This wasn’t him crashing from fatigue or his body going limp. His shoulders eased their tension, he leaned back on his hands, his mouth held a slight smile. He looked so at ease, only broken by the occasional cough.

Aizawa couldn't hide the small smile.

Shinso couldn’t get over how nice it felt to be listening to music again. He had missed it. Music was his anchor on some of his worst nights, it was how he coped. He would put his headphones in and blast his eardrums out with the music to drown out the shouting and the pain. Shinso hadn’t had is comfort in over a week, his phone having been “confiscated” by the foster parents. Idly he wondered if Jiro had sent him any more playlists.

He was startled by another thought: would she continue to send playlists, even if he was gone?

The oven beeped, alerting the three dinner was ready and Aizawa stood, heading to the kitchen to get it ready. Shinso coughed, covering his mouth with his elbow, disturbing the cat in his lap which earning him an indignant meow. Present Mic stood and offered his hand out to Shinso who took it, nodding in thanks as the adult helped him up. With a gentle hand on his shoulder, he guided Shinso to the table, setting him in his seat.

As the two adults set the table, got the drinks, and doled out the food, Shinso couldn’t help but get swept up by the warmth. Something in the back of his head brought him crashing back down to reality.

He didn’t deserve this.

This wasn’t real. It sure as hell wasn’t permanent. This was just pretend. He couldn’t keep this. Something sour settled in his stomach, making it churn. What little laughter he had in his throat died and he stared down at the delicious food in front of him, no longer hungry.

“You alright?” Aizawa asked, noticing the dark look settling over his student’s face. Shinso shook his head and picked up his fork again, digging in. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Shinso lied as he took another bite of his food, eyes downcast and hard. He missed the two adults sharing a worried glance. Present Mic tried to salvage the mood, leaning his forearm causally on the table, the picture of ease as he smiled at Shinso.

“Later, if you’re feeling like being up for a bit, I can show you a few good music apps for your phone,” he offered, always willing to help people get sucked into the world of music.

“I don’t have a phone,” Shinso said flatly, pausing when he realized what he told them. He risked a quick glance up to the two teachers, seeing their confusion. He looked back down at his plate and stabbed at the food. “Foster parents took it a while ago.”

“Oh,” Present Mic thought carefully, “would you want another one?”

“Can’t afford it,” Shinso told him flatly, taking a bite of food, still not looking at them. Hizashi looked to Aizawa, silently asking if maybe they should try to talk about it now, using the phone as a way to bring it up. Aizawa nodded and took over.

“You’ll need one when you go back, not just to communicate with classmates,” Aizawa spoke slowly, seeing Shinso visibly tensing. The boy stopped chewing and his jaw clenched tight, glaring at his plate. “We’d be more than willing to add you to the cell phone plan. If you’d rather have your own, I’m sure the school would be more than willing-“ Shinso swallowed and dropped his fork, letting it clatter against the plate and table as he snapped his head up, staring at his teacher with a cold expression.

“I don’t understand why you are pushing this,” he said flatly, careful not to ask a question. Hizashi looked between the two and decided to let Aizawa continue. Aizawa exhaled slowly. Shinso’s walls had slammed back into place. This was clearly a touchy subject, but he couldn’t understand what about it was setting him off. He had assured Shinso he’d still be going to school, he’d be placed in a better home, they’d make sure he was ok. “We’ve talked about this, there’s no point in asking the school. I’m not gonna be a student there anymore.”

“Shinso…” Hizashi said quietly in surprise, resisting the urge to touch his arm. “Why? Do you not want to go anymore?” Shinso’s purple eyes snapped to the blonde.

“I’m gonna be moved. They move me all over the city,” Shinso told him roughly, kicking himself for being so rude but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t take the false hope anymore. Why did they keep doing this? “That’s why I put up with all that bullshit for so long.”

“Shinso,” Aizawa said, getting his attention again, “we’ve been working with the school and your case worker.” He paused, letting it sink in. “You’re still going to be able to go to UA. That’s not the issue here. We just want to talk about the phone.”

“But it is the issue,” Shinso hissed at him, trying to keep it together. “Look, I’m pretty much fine now. Any day I’m gonna be shoved in another home and I doubt they’re gonna let me go, you and the school be damned.”

“That’s not true,” Hizashi tried to assure him, reflexively reaching out to put a comforting hand on his shoulder and Shinso snapped, jumping to his feet, sending his chair skittering back.

“STOP IT!” Shinso shouted at Hizashi, making the blonde sit there, eyes wide. He wanted to stop, he didn’t want to yell. He didn’t want to take it out on the two men who had been so kind to him. “Stop lying to me!” He shouted, trying to lower his voice as tears stung his eyes and his lungs began to itch in warning. He bunched up his sleeves and pressed them against his eyes. “Just stop, please,” he said, his voice cracking, just above a whisper. The two adults paused, giving him a minute to calm down. Before either of them could speak, Shinso dropped his hands, his face stony as he pushed his chair in and stepped back. He gave a brief and stiff bow. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, straightening up. “Good night,” he said, moving swiftly from the room, fighting a cough.

“But your dinner!” Present Mic called after him, worry bunching his blonde eyebrows.

“Not hungry,” Shinso answered over his shoulder as he turned into the hall. His bare feet padded against the hardwood floors as he brought his arm up to cover his mouth while he coughed. He stepped into the spare room and closed the door behind him. The moment he was alone in the dark room, he broke down. Tears streamed as he continued to cough. It took him a minute to catch his breath but when he did, he paced, worry gnawing at him.

Shinso cursed himself. He had really fucked up this time. Why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut? He had just ruined any chance he had of staying in school. He had just burned a massive fucking bridge he could never hope to rebuild. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he fucked up. He couldn’t stop crying.

“What on earth?” Hizashi looked to his husband in confusion as the darker haired man sighed. “What the hell was that about?” The blonde asked, though no anger was in his voice. “Was I wrong? Is he not enrolled anymore?”

“No, that’s not it,” Aizawa assured him, reaching over and taking Hizashi’s hand in his, rubbing his thumb reassuringly, feeling the blonde shaking a bit. “You alright?”

“I’m really worried about him,” Hizashi told his husband, squeezing his hand. “How do we even make the offer to him if he won’t even accept that he’s still a student?”

“Let’s give him a little longer to recover,” Aizawa suggested, taking a bite of his food, “let him get a little more settled in before we spring it on him.”

“Right,” Hizashi agreed, glancing at the partially eaten dinner where Shinso had sat, “but now what do we do?

Chapter Text

Thump, thump, thump.

Shinso softly bumped his head against the wall before sighing and closing his eyes. He sat in the room, the only light being the occasional flashes of lightening. He fucked up, plain and simple. As he began to cough he took stock of his situation. His throat hurt that was for sure. His body ached not only from the coughing, but also from sitting in the corner on the floor for so long. Shinso had sat there, crying in frustration and anger as the storm raged on outside.

This sucked.

He had lashed out at the two men who had done nothing but support him. These two had done so much for him already and he threw it in their faces. He wasn’t ungrateful for all they’ve done, but he was confused and scared. Why were they helping him? Did they really believe he’d still be going to UA? Why? Did they know something he didn’t? Why was he so worked up about a phone? Why couldn’t he just trust them? Would they let him finish his dinner?

Shinso’s thoughts were interrupted by his growling stomach and he winced, tucking his knees closer before wrapping his arms around them and dropping his head. How does he undo what happened?
Soft knocking at the door had Shinso lifting his head slowly, body tensing in anticipation. His breathing caught in his throat as the doorknob slowly turned. Light began to creep in slowly from the hall before there was a quiet thump, making the door swing open faster.

“Meow!” came the indignant cry of the cat as she burst into the room.

“Oh, you brat!” Present Mic whispered crossly into the dark and Shinso had to fight the slight smirk of amusement. It was hard to keep those defensive walls up. For some reason, the cat being present too helped put him at ease. He remained quiet though, unsure of what to do. Instead he sat and watched as the cat jumped onto the bed, looking for him for a moment before the cat’s eyes found him in the dark. With another meow, the cat walked across the bed and jumped down, padding over to him in the dark. “Hey, kiddo,” Present Mic greeted gently as he stood in the doorway, the light flooding in behind him. Shinso looked him over. He stood in his pajama’s, a soft smile on his face, glasses perched on his nose, and a plate and glass of water in his hands. Slowly Present Mic began to walk forward. Shinso tensed but gave no indication for the man to stop. “Mind if I sit with you?”

Shinso shrugged and the blonde man smiled a little wider. Slowly Present Mic walked over and sat, setting the plate and glass of water between them. He leaned back against the wall and bent his knees, letting his long arms drape over them. Shinso glanced down at the plate to find it had a slice of cake. He dared to hope it was for him. His mouth watered and his stomach rumbled again, earning a quiet chuckle. Present Mic slid the plate closer to him.

“I kinda figured you’d still be hungry,” Present Mic explained softly, much softer than he could have ever thought possible from the loud man. “Go ahead and dig in, listener.” Shinso’s purple eyes watched the blonde for a moment, waiting to see if he would go back on his word that the last minute. Slowly he unwrapped his arms, letting his hands sit on the floor. He glanced at the blonde man next to him again. Present Mic sat with this head leaned back against the wall. To his surprise he had his eyes closed with a small smile on his face. Thunder rumbled outside and a flash of lightening brightened the room. Present Mic looked the picture of ease. As Shinso straightened out his legs, he realized the man wasn’t angry. Not at all. Why wasn’t he angry? Why wasn’t he in trouble?

Carefully the boy picked up the plate, his purple eyes glancing up at the blonde to see if he would react. When there was no response he picked up the fork and cut a piece, stabbing it with the utensil.
There was still no response.

Shinso took a bite.

Then he froze.

Holy shit this tasted amazing.

“It’s good isn’t it?” Present Mic asked gently, still leaning his head back with his eyes closed.

“Yeah,” Shinso agreed after a while. He took another bite and then another. “Yeah, it’s really good.” He said in mild surprise. He set the plate in his lap, pausing. He had snapped at them and they brought him cake. He didn’t understand it but damn was it nice.

He was going to lose it.

The sweetness turned bitter and his jaw clenched shut. The fork clattered quietly against the plate as he set it back down on the floor between him and the adult. He brought his knees up again and once more wrapped his arms around himself, burying his face in his arms. Hizashi watched him as the boy closed in on himself. Blonde eyebrows were risen in surprise before they furrowed.

“Do you want something else?”

“No thank you,” came the quiet response. The two sat in silence for a moment, listening to the thunder and rain. Hizashi leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. He had no idea how to get the kid to open up, but he didn’t feel like he should leave. Maybe if he just sat here it would help the kid feel a little bit more at ease. At the very least he was able to show he wasn’t in trouble.
Why wasn’t he leaving? Why hadn’t he gotten tired of this yet? Shinso was tired of it. He was tired of fighting. He was tired of being so on guard all the time. He was so tired of being afraid. He was waiting for them to give up on him. He was just biding his time. They’d get sick of him soon enough, right?

Then again…

Shinso slowly lifted his head again, studying the man. They had invested so much in him already. They had opened up their home to him and stayed with him. They keep saying not to worry, to trust them.
Maybe…

“I uh…” Shinso started carefully. Present Mic opened his eyes and turned his head to look at him, tilting his head slightly, waiting to hear what the boy had to say. Shinso hugged himself tighter and swallowed. “I’m scared,” he admitted, wincing at how childish he sounded. He looked away, face warm from more than just the fever. He hated admitting it, but maybe if he was honest, maybe if he was open about some of it…maybe they’d be able to help him. They were heroes and heroes help.

“We kinda figured as much,” Present Mic assured him with a soft smile. After a moment Shinso was able to look at him again and Hizashi offered a reassuring smile. “It’s ok to be afraid, little listener, especially after everything you’ve been through lately.”

“No…” Shinso corrected, lifting his head a bit and shaking it, “No, I don’t mean that…I’m…I’m worried…” he couldn’t even bring himself to say it. Hizashi made the connection and offered another smile.
“You’re worried you’ll be pulled out of the school, aren’t you?” Hizashi asked. Shinso clenched his jaw and tried to breathe in, careful not to trigger a cough.

“It’s happened before with other schools, and I didn’t really care,” Shinso told him. “I’ve been moved around all over the city. I want to be a hero. I don’t want to leave this school.”

“Shinso,” Hizashi said gently, hearing the kid get more and more agitated. He didn’t want Shinso to trigger a coughing fit. “We’ve already worked with the school and your case worker.” Hizashi explained and Shinso sat up straight, staring at the blonde. They sat there for a moment as rain pounded against the window. Hizashi offered and encouraging smile. “You’re staying in the school. All that’s left is figuring out where you’ll be staying.”

“I don’t understand,” Shinso admitted. “If you don’t know where I’m going to be moved to, you can’t garuntee-“

“There’s plenty of foster families close to the school,” Hizashi assured him, “but we were exploring other options.”

“Other options,” Shinso repeated, looking the blonde over, careful not to ask a question. Hizashi sighed with a smile before standing up. He bent down and picked up the glass and plate.

“Come on,” he instructed lightly with a playful smile, jerking his head toward the door, “I think Shota wanted to be the one to talk to you about it.” Shinso slowly began to stand, suspicion rising. Were they kicking him out? Were they going to ask him to leave?

Once he was standing, Hizashi offered him a smile and turned, leaving the room. Slowly Shinso followed him out of the room. He followed the tall blonde hero down the hall. This was it. They’d had enough. He’d caused enough trouble and they were asking him to leave. Where was he going to go? Could he still get into that old building? No, that’s the first place they’d look.

As he stepped into the warm glow of the kitchen, he couldn’t help but feel the fears and worries start to wash away. They weren’t asking him to leave, not if they were feeding him cake right? Not if they were looking at him like that…was that hope? Why were they nervous? Shinso watched as Hizashi set the cake and water down on the table, sitting in a chair and patting the one next to him.

“I’m ok,” Shinso declined, offering to linger out of arm’s reach. He stuffed his hands in his pockets as Aizawa and Hizashi looked at him.

“I think now is as good a time as any to talk to him, Shota,” Hizashi told his husband. Aizawa looked at the blonde for a long moment but Hizashi wasn’t budging. He stared back at his husband with a firm smile. They were going to tell him now. There was no stopping it. Aizawa sighed before extending his hand out to his husband who took it and gave a squeeze. As excited as they were to offer, they were worried. What if he said no?

“I wanted to wait until you had felt a little better,” Aizawa admitted, turning his attention to Shinso who watched them warily, shifting his weight from foot to foot nervously. “But it seems like the longer we put it off, the more harm it’s going to do.” Shinso glanced between them, waiting for the shoe to drop, for that world shattering truth: he wasn’t going to UA, he’d be moved any day now.

“We’ve been talking to the case worker and your school,” Hizashi explained gently. “We all agree your experiences in foster care has been …well, shitty.” Aizawa grunted and Shinso snorted, rolling his eyes. “So, Shota and I pitched and idea. We have permission with the school and we just have some forms we need to get approved. It’s pretty much official, but we just need one more person to agree.” Shinso furrowed his eyebrows at that. Who the hell else had control over his life?

“Who?” The question slipped out before he could think. The adults before him shared another look and his stomach churned. Maybe a question wasn’t a good idea.

“Well, you,” Hizashi said. Shinso balked at that. He gets to have a say? A say in what? What did they need his permission for?

“I don’t…” Shinso trailed off, looked between them, hoping for an explanation.

“We’d like you to stay with us,” Aizawa explained.

“For how long?” Shinso asked, taking his hand out of his pocket and rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “I’m almost better.”

“For as long as you want,” Aizawa told him calmly. Shinso froze at that. He couldn’t be hearing this right. “Shinso, we want to know if you’d feel comfortable living with us and having us as your legal guardians.” Shinso definitely wasn’t hearing this right. There was no way this was real. This was too good to be true.

“You…you want to foster me?” He asked in disbelief. His eyes stung. What? What the fuck? “I don’t understand…”

“We want to be your foster parents, Shinso,” Aizawa told him. Tears fell down Shinso’s face at the words. Had anyone ever told him they wanted him? When was the last time he had felt wanted? “If you want to, we are more than happy to have you.” Tears fell faster down Shinso’s face and he sucked in a breath. This was a dream. He rubbed his eyes roughly as a sob escaped him. He tried to take a breath. This was too good to be true.

“You’re shitting me,” he said, looking at his two teachers. Hizashi snorted and Aizawa rested his hand on a few papers, placing a pen on top of them. Shinso held his breath and ran his hands through his hair as he saw the papers on the table. “Holy shit,” he exhaled in disbelief. “Holy shit, you’re serious.” Hizashi chuckled at his response as the boy started to cry harder, his hands covering his mouth, trying to hide his surprise. Shinso knit his fingers together and rested them on top of his head. “Oh, fuck this isn’t real.”

“It’s real, Hitoshi,” Aizawa assured him as he let go of his husband’s hand and stood. “If you want us as foster parents, all you have to do is sign.” Purple eyes flicked between his teacher and the paper on the table. He wrapped his arms around his torso. He was fidgeting like crazy. He had to have been dreaming.

“I can stay?” Shinso asked, his voice hardly above a whisper. Aizawa gave him a reassuring smile and nodded.

“You can stay as long as you’d like.” The words crashed against Shinso like a wave. Relief washed over him, starting to wash away years of fear and anger and pain. The boy dropped to his knees, sobbing. The adults jolted, startled by the reaction. Aizawa hovered, slightly anxious and definatly startled by the reaction. It took him a minute to realize the boy was crying out of joy but once he did, a soft smile graced his tired face. Aizawa crouched next to his student, placing a gentle hand on his back. “We’d like you to stay, Hitoshi.” Without warning, Shinso launched himself at his teacher, wrapping his arms around him and crying into his shoulder.

“Please, please, let me stay,” he begged as years of fear and panic oozed out with his tears. He didn’t have the strength to keep up the stoic façade. Aizawa steadied himself for a second before wrapping his own arms around the shaking boy. “I’m so sorry for getting mad, please, please let me stay.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Aizawa assured him. “You can stay as long as you want,” the man reminded him and Shinso sobbed harder, grimacing in pain. “We want you to stay.” Shinso couldn’t help it. He felt so embarrassed but he couldn’t stop crying, he couldn’t stop sobbing.

Hizashi joined the two on the floor, crouching on the other side of the kid as he slowly released his teacher, covering his mouth and coughing. Both of the adults had a hand on his back to reassure him as he coughed and cried. They gave him a minute to catch his breath, smiling at each other over him before giving him their attention.

“So how about it, little listener?” Hizashi asked him with a grin, tears pricking his own eyes. “Is that a yes?” Shinso looked at the blonde and sniffled, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand as he hiccupped. Shinso nodded.

“Yeah,” Shinso nodded, “yeah, I wanna stay.”

“Then you can stay.”

To his everlasting embarrassment, Shinso started sobbing again.

To no one’s surprise, Hizashi began to cry as well as he pulled the purple haired boy in for a hug, holding him tightly as the two of them cried.

To everyone’s surprise, Aizawa let a few tears slip down his face as he wrapped his strong arms around the two of them, letting them sob. He ran his fingers through their hair, just letting them both cry tears of relief and joy and excitement.

The cat sat on the table, watching as three humans cried on the kitchen floor, leaving the slice of cake unattended.

Chapter Text

Shinso covered his mouth with his arm as he coughed. He cleared his throat and reached for the mug of coffee he had been given. Next to it sat a glass of water, but it had been mostly ignored. He sat on the couch, sipping the warm liquid as the TV played quietly. In his hand was his new phone, buzzing softly as alert after alert came through. He had signed on to all the apps and was waiting for it all to finish synching.

He sat there, watching the alerts roll in, thinking about what had just happened. Over the last few days, not only had he gotten better and gotten a new phone, he’d gotten a new family, a real one this time. Shinso leaned his head back and sighed.

A few days ago he had signed the papers that allowed Present Mic and Eraserhead become his legal guardians. He was still in school and he’d never have to go back to that crazy foster family again. Even after he aged out of the program, he was welcome to stay. His health was finally improving every day and he had even gotten a start on some of the homework.

So why was he so nervous?

Why did he find himself tensing every time someone came home? Why did he jump every time a cabinet was closed too harshly? Why did he hold his breath in fear every time someone walked down the hall? He was safe now so why couldn’t he relax?

As the phone in his lap stopped vibrating, he finally picked it up and slowly began going through the notifications. After their visit to the hospital, Shinso was no longer surprised to find the class had tried to reach out to him almost every day. His phone was flooded with unanswered messages and missed phone calls.

While he was flattered they had taken such a liking to him, there was one name that brought a blush to his face. He tapped the name and scrolled through the messages. Kaminari had asked after him several times, spammed him memes, and even kept him up to date on the latest class drama. Kaminari was true friend in this trying time.

Shinso sat on the couch and spent the time reading through all the missed texts and calls and responding to them. He knew better than to call them, knowing they would still be in class, and settled on just responding with a simple text. He answered their questions but kept it vague, not elaborating on what happened with his parents even though Kirishima, Jiro, and Kaminari had asked about it. Momo hadn’t asked him about it, but he did receive a message from her about it.

*You don’t have to tell me what’s going on, but know that we stick together. If you want to talk about it, I am here to listen.*

Shinso smiled at that. He appreciated the lack of pressure. Honestly, he was tired of talking about it. He already had to talk to Recovery Girl and his case worker about it. Luckily, he was allowed to have his new guardians with him during the conversation. He saw it as killing two birds with one stone.

His health had recovered enough the teachers felt confident enough to leave him home alone. Aizawa wasn’t exactly eager to get back to work, but he was concerned for his students. They had a reckless streak and being away from them for so long was starting to give him separation anxiety. So that’s how Shinso found himself sitting on the couch, sipping coffee and working on some of the homework, the tv playing softly in the background.

Shinso was content. It was strange how easy things were there. If he was hungry, he could eat. If he was tired, he could sleep. When he wanted to be left alone, he was left alone and when he wanted company, he was always welcome to sit with either one of them. They seemed to genuinely enjoy having him there. He found it so much easier to focus on homework there as well. He didn’t have to worry about one of them pulling him away for chores or grilling him on why he didn’t do better. The pressure was significantly less. His teachers gave him the space to make mistakes and ask questions even though they weren’t at school. When was the last time he had help with homework?

He could still remember the first time they had helped. Shinso had been sitting at the kitchen table while they watched TV in the living room. At one point, one of them had looked his way.

“What’s wrong?” Aizawa asked, seeing Shinso sitting with his head in his hair, glaring at a piece of paper.

“It’s nothing,” Shinso dismissed, sitting up and removing his hands from his head, trying to look less distressed.

“Do you need help?” Aizawa asked, clearly seeing through the bullshit. Shinso winced a bit before coughing. He coughed into his elbow, nodding as he did so. “What class?” They waited for him to catch his breath. Shinso cleared his throat and looked down at his homework, embarrassed to admit it.

“English,” he mumbled. To his surprise, and amusement, Present Mic jumped off the couch and practically danced over to the table, clearly excited to help. Shinso couldn’t help but chuckle and the anxiety was almost immediately dispelled as the blonde man pulled up a chair and set out explaining it.

Hours passed without him noticing as show after show started and ended. He had managed to make decent progress on a lot of his work, and as instructed, he made a note of the things he needed help with, knowing his teachers-no, his guardians,-would help him with it later. Shinso only noticed the time when his stomach churned and growled with hunger. Grabbing his phone, he checked the time and grimaced. He had worked well past lunch.

Shinso started packing up his work, moving it to the table and setting it next to the empty coffee mug and still full glass of water. His stomach growled again and figured a small snack couldn’t hurt. He didn’t want to eat a full lunch since this guardians would be making dinner soon. He just wanted something to tide him over.

The cat whined as he stood but got up as well, brushing against his leg, making him chuckle. The laughter died as he noticed how weak he felt and grimaced. He needed to be more careful. Shinso was so close to going back to school he didn’t want to ruin it now. He leaned over and picked up the mug but left the water where it was, intending to drink it later. He walked out of the living room and into the kitchen, his sock clad feet shuffling along for floor.

Shinso rinsed out the mug, washing it and letting it dry. He grabbed something small from the fridge before making himself comfortable on the couch once more, scrolling through his phone. There wasn’t much for him to do and between the disease and the boredom he quickly grew tired.

He turned off the tv and shuffled back to his room, the cat padding along behind him, chirping excitedly for naptime. He couldn’t help but chuckle at her. She had practically become his shadow.

“Come on, then,” he said, opening the door and letting her in first. He watched with a small smile as she hopped up onto the bed. Shinso pulled back the blanket and slid in, letting her climb up onto his stomach and make herself comfortable. He chuckled and ran his fingers through her fur before throwing his arm over his mouth and coughing. His coughs were getting better but were still unpleasant enough to make the cat meow indignantly at the disturbance, only serving to amuse him more. “Sorry,” he mumbled to her before unlocking his phone.

He opened his music app and scrolled until he found the playlist Jiro had sent him. Frankly, that was one of the things his missed most about his phone: his music.

Shinso fell asleep that way: hand on the cat, cat on his stomach, and music playing softly from his phone. It was the epitome of comfort.

Perfect time to have a nightmare.

Chapter Text

Hizashi made it home first, not wanting to linger at the school much longer than he needed. Aizawa was staying behind late to catch up on work and meet with students as needed, and neither wanted to leave Shinso home alone too long. When he stepped in the home he wasn’t surprised to find it so quiet. The living room was empty and he smiled to see Shinso had left his books on the coffee table, clearly getting a bit more comfortable in this space. As he walked down the hall he could hear the music coming from Shinso’s room. The door was cracked a bit, no doubt so the cat could come and go as she pleased, and Present Mic tapped gently before pushing it open just enough to peer in.

The music was playing from his phone that was set on the nightstand. He lay on his side, facing away from Present Mic and breathing deeply, much better than he had been over the last week or so. The cat that lay curled behind his knees popped her head up, staring straight at the blonde. Present Mic smiled to himself and pulled the door once more. Satisified that Shinso was alright, he moved to his own room and began removing his gear. Humming to himself as he grabbed comfortable casual clothes and his normal glasses, he padded down the hall to the bathroom and turned on the shower, eager to rinse the gel out of his hair. The steam filled the bathroom and the hot water poured over him. Hizashi continued to hum to himself as he lathered the shampoo into his hair.

He could feel the water and shampoo washing away the gel and soothing his scalp. As he took his time unwinding, Hizashi considered options for dinner. He vaguely wondered what Shinso liked. He couldn’t think of any dislikes. Hell, he couldn’t even think of any allergies. Was Shinso allergic to anything? Had he eaten today? Was there enough food in the house for him? He was ok, right? Sleeping so much is normal when you’re sick. Right? He’d be able to get back to school soon, so how was the going to work? How were they going to keep everything secret? Hizashi didn’t mind so much, but knew his husband appreciated discretion. Shinso would understand, but sometimes things just come out. What if he wants to have friends over? What if he wants a girlfriend? Or boyfriend? Should they have “the talk”?

Hisashi shook his head, coming back down to reality. He was getting ahead of himself again. Chuckling to himself quietly, he finished up in the shower and stepped out. He dressed himself and towel dried his hair before wrapping it up in a bun. Leaving the clothes in the hamper, he stepped out into the cool hall, watching the steam flow out around him. As he passed Shinso’s room again, he peeked in, once more checking on him. The boy hadn’t moved. Music continued to play and he could see him breathing.

All was well. They would figure it all out as they go.

Hizashi moved about the kitchen, making himself some tea and having to step around the cat who moved around him as though trying to trip him. The cat would look up at him and whine and meow.

“I know what you’re after,” he said with a small smile as he reached into a cupboard and pulled out a tin can. The cat meowed again before jumping up onto the counter. Hizashi grabbed her. “I don’t think so,” he said as he lifted her and promptly dumped her on the floor. The cat landed on her feet and looked back up at him, crying even louder. “Hush,”Hizashi shushed, putting his finger to his lips, “you’ll wake him up.” Seeing as he was talking to a cat, she had no idea what he was saying. All she knew was he had the food. So she did what cats do best and cried louder. Hizashi rolled his eyes and cracked open the can before kneeling down and dumping it in the cat dish. He tossed the empty can in the trash and the cat sniffed at the food. Then she looked back up at him and meowed again. “Oh hush you, eat!” he ordered, trying to keep his voice down. The cat continued to meow. “No, that’s the dinner for tonight. Shota’s not getting you any more until tomorrow. You’ll just have to deal with it,” Hizashi chided. The cat walked over and tried to climb up his leg, meowing louder. “Shush, you noisy thing, you’ll wake him up.”

“I’m up,” Shinso said from behind, making Hizashi jump a bit. With an apologetic smile he turned to face the boy but froze at the site. Shinso stood, leaning against the doorframe, hair and pajamas a mess, clearly just having awoken. What worried Hizashi was the pale face and the far off, almost dazed expression. He watched as the boy’s eyes seemed to flick all over the room, unable to settle on anything.

“Ah,” Hizashi said gently as he gently swatted the cat off his leg, watching Shinso as he spoke. “Did I wake you?” he pressed gently. Shinso didn’t answer and Hizashi doubted the boy heard him. His purple eyes kept glancing around the room, though they lingered on certain areas longer now. He turned to fully face the teen, extending a hand slowly. “Shinso?” he called to him. Shinso’s eyes snapped to him, almost alarmed. Hizashi furrowed his eyebrows at that. “Shinso, are you alright?” he asked. Shinso blinked for a minute before nodding.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Sorry, just tired.”

“Did you sleep ok?” Hizashi asked and Shinso shook his head.

“No, had a nightmare,” he explained before looking away and shrugging. “It’s fine, though.” Hizashi studied the boy, taking in his flat expression, his tense shoulders, the way he was hugging himself. Shinso was on edge.

“Well,” he said softly with an encouraging smile, “if you ever want to talk about it, I’m all ears. But in the meantime,” he trailed off, turning back to the cupboard and pulling out a box before looking over his shoulder, “how about a hot chocolate?”

By the time Aizawa finally trudged up the steps of his apartment, the sun had already set and the streetlights flickered to life. With a yawn he turned the doorknob and stepped inside, letting out a litte happy huff as the warmth embraced him.

“I’m home,” his tired voice called out as he kicked off his shoes and stepped further down the hall.

“Welcome home,” Hizashi smiled from his spot at that kitchen table, glancing up from his laptop. Aizawa smiled a bit and walked over, dropping his bag in an empty chair before kissing his husband on the cheek. “Get a lot done?”

“Enough,” Aizawa shrugged before moving over to the counter, smiling a little wider at the freshly brewed pot of coffee. “So you do love me,” Aizawa teased over his shoulder, earning a snort. The dark haired man grabbed himself a mug and poured himself some coffee. “So, where’s Shinso?” he asked.

“He’s in his room,” Hizashi explained and there was a tenseness in his tone that had Aizawa eyeing him suspiciously. “I’ve ordered Chinese for dinner, I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Aizawa said as he sat at the table, setting his mug down. He leaned back in his chair and watched his husband who held his stare, waiting for the questions. The worry was clear on the blonde’s face. “What happened?” Aizawa finally asked.

“He said he had another nightmare,” Hizashi explained. “He seemed really out of it, really dazed.”

“Did he tell you anything about it?” Aizawa asked before taking a sip. Hizashi shook his head. The two sat in their seats for a moment, thinking it over. What do they do?

“I made us both some hot chocolate,” Hizashi explained, “he hung out for a bit, but he went back to his room. I think he’s still trying to adjust to everything.” Aizawa thought it over for a minute before humming and nodding in agreement. It was a big adjustment, moving from a place where you had to be on high alert all the time, to a place where you can finally start to feel at ease. It must have been disorienting as hell. “After dinner, I’m gonna ask him about decorating his room. Maybe making the space feel more like his own will help.”

“I don’t think he’s ever really had a space of his own,” Aizawa nodded, agreeing with Hizashi’s idea, “It could help reinforce that is welcome to stay long term.”

“Speaking of,” Hizashi trailed off with a nervous smile. “We should probably talk about rules or boundaries. He might end up walking around on egg shells if we don’t.” Taking a sip of his coffee, Aizawa hummed. He thought it over, trying to think of what they would need to talk about. Shinso was a good kid. He didn’t cause trouble at school and his grades were fine. However, kids often behaved differently at home than they did at school. “I think the first thing we should talk about is having friends over.” Aizawa looked at his husband for a moment before taking in a deep breath and letting out a long sigh. He reached across the table and took his husband’s hand in his. Hizashi smiled and rubbed his thumb against the back of the man’s hand.

“Alright,” Aizawa nodded. He knew he couldn’t keep it a secret forever and who knows, maybe the kids could keep it to themselves. He looked at his husband’s loving smile. Hizashi was a capable hero with years of experience. He could keep himself safe. It would be ok. He had to be sure of that.

“Alright,”

Shinso sat on the bed, the music playing from his phone softly. He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. The cat sitting in his lap purred happily and he couldn't help but pet her. She was soft and comforting and warm. Hell, the whole apartment was. He felt so overwhelmingly safe. How could feeling so safe feel so terrifying? Why was this panic building in his chest? Why was he still having nightmares? His previous home wasn't even that bad, so why was he having nightmares about it? Why was he replaying the last beating over and over again? Why could he still feel the man's foot connecting with his chest? His scalp itched at the memory of having his hair yanked. He winced at the feeling of ghost hands grabbing him while he could do nothing to fight them off. He felt sick.

He hated it. He hated it. He hated it.

"Shinso?" a tired voice called to him, cutting through his thoughts and bringing him back to the present. Blinking open his purple eyes he was surprised to find there were tears falling from them. He hastily wiped them away.

"Yes, sir?" he asked, seeing Aizawa standing in the doorway. The man stood there for a moment, just watching his student, trying to figure out what to say. He had only came to tell him dinner was ready, but the boy was clearly distressed. Does he let it go or does he ask about it?

"Dinner's here," Aizawa spoke carefully. After a moment Shinso nodded in understanding.

"Thank you," the boy said quietly, "I'll be there in a minute." Aizawa lingered in the door way for a moment before making his decision. Stepping further into the room he say Shinso immediately tense. He raised a hand in a gesture of reassurance.

"Mind if I sit?" Aizawa asked, indicating to the foot of the bed. With furrowed eyebrows, Shinso nodded. His teacher slowly made his way over and sat with a small grunt. He looked over the boy, seeing him petting the cat in his lap before asking "How are you doing?"

"I'm alright," Shinso shrugged before rubbing his chest idly, "Still have a cough, and I'm still tired, but I'm doing alright. I can go back to school, if that's what you mean."

"That's not why I'm asking, but it's good to know," Aizawa told him, "Stay home tomorrow. I'll talk to Recovery Girl and let her know how you are. If she think's you've improved enough, you can go back this week."

"Alright," Shinso agreed. Silence slipped between them for a moment as the two sat there. "What..." Shinso hesitated, "What did you mean, if that wasn't what you were after?"

"Hizashi told me you had another nightmare," Aizawa spoke in his usual tired tone and Shinso winced. "Do you have someone to talk to about what happened?"

"No," Shinso told him quickly, looking down at the cat with a frown, "and I don't want to talk about it. To anyone," he specified. "I just want to forget it and move on. I'm falling even further behind because of this."

"You're also learning something every hero has to learn," Aizawa pointed out. Shinso looked at him in confusion and Aizawa hesitated for a moment before continuing. "You're learning something every hero has to learn. It's something I could never teach my students and it's something I wished none of you would ever have to experience."

"What is it?" Shinso asked quietly.

"How to cope," Aizawa told him. The boy tilted his head a bit in confusion and Aizawa continued. "One of the hazards of hero work is seeing things you wish you'd never see. You're going to have to do things that go against every fiber of your being. You're going to have to make tough choices and they won't always be right. You'll have to live with the consequences of every action you take. Sometimes you lose. What you're learning now is how to heal, how to overcome and recover from something terrible you experienced. Don't put too much pressure on yourself. You are your greatest asset. You can't save anyone if you aren't at the top of your game. Resting and healing is more important that fighting."

"What about the school work?" Shinso asked carefully after a moment and Aizawa just smirked at him.

"You live with two of your teachers," he reminded the boy. "If you need help with something, let us know."

"Yes, sir," Shinso nodded, slowly letting a small smile of his own take over.

"Let's go eat," Aizawa suggested as he stood. Shinso gently removed the cat from his lap, earning an indignant meow. "Oh, Hizashi's offered to help you decorate your room," Aizawa told him, getting a startled look from Shinso, "if that's too much for you tonight, just let him know."

"Oh, uh," Shinso stumbled over his words. He never had a chance to decorate a space before. What would it entail? What should he chose? What?

"You don't have to any time soon," Aizawa assured him, picking up on the growing anxiety, "and if you needed ideas I'm sure your classmates would be glad to help, too."

Chapter Text

It felt as though he had been gone from months, the door in front of him almost unfamiliar. Shinso took as deep of a breath as he could before grabbing the handle and stepping inside. Silence fell over the room, startling him and making him pause. He stood there, staring at his classmates who simply stared back. It was tense for a moment before several of his classmates were on their feet, suddenly making their way towards him.

“Shinso!” they called out as they rushed him, making him freeze up, alarm crossing his face. His shock went unnoticed as a blonde boy practically tackled him in an excited hug.

“Dude, welcome back!” Kirishima called from his seat his bright grin stretching from ear to ear, genuinely happy to see his classmate.

“How are you feeling?” Momo asked as Kaminari finally released him. “We’ve been so worried about you.”

“Yeah, dude,” Jiro teased, elbowing him a bit. “We thought you quit on us at first.”

“I’m so glad you’re back!” Kaminari grinned grabbing his shoulders, “you gotta help me with this homework, I’m dying out here.” Shinso chuckled at that.

His first day back went much better than he thought it would, though for a while he had been convinced he’d never see them again. The rest of homeroom was filled with classmates asking about him or catching him up on the latest drama. People offered to help him with classes and trainings, though he had to tell them he still wasn’t quite up to par for physical exercise yet.

He got back into the rhythm of everything pretty quickly and found it mostly unchanged. Classes carried on as usual but every so often, he’d glance towards a certain blonde, often times catching him doing the same. Every once in a while, he’d catch a smile or shared look of boredom and he couldn’t help but feel warm.

Shinso had missed everyone greatly, but it was Kaminari he missed the most. It was the thought of losing Kaminari that hurt him the most. The blonde and his smile, his praise, his lightheartedness. Though he knew the boy would never feel the same about him, Shinso had managed to accept it and come to terms with it. He was just happy to have him as his friend.

The day carried on normally, though he was still exempt from participating in the trainings. Instead, he lingered and observed, watching his classmates progress without him. It was frustrating, but rather than sit and simmer in that, Shinso took this as an opportunity to watch them, learn how the worked, how they improved, and started brainstorming ways to beat them. He might be sidelined for the moment, but he wasn’t going to just sit there and be idle. He kept busy and enjoyed being able to be back at school, to continue to learn and improve. He had been idle for much tool long for his comfort. Yes, rest is important as his new foster parents had drilled into his head, but Shinso was tired of rest, almost uncomfortable with doing nothing for so long. So when classes ended, and it was time to go home, that uncomfortable restlessness creeped back into his head. Usually, now he would be changing and getting ready for the extra practice with Aizawa. His new foster dad didn’t feel he was ready to get back to that yet, so he found himself awkwardly lingering behind, packing his things slowly as the rest of the students filed out of the room, eager to get home or any other destination that was more interesting than the classroom.

“How are you feeling?” Aizawa asked him as he approached his teacher.

“I’m alright,” Shinso assured. In truth he was tired, but he felt miles better than he had the last few weeks. Aizawa looked him over for a brief moment before nodding.

“We’ll postpone practice for a bit until you’ve recovered a bit more,” Aizawa explained as he continued to pack his own things. “I have some work I need to finish here, but I should be home soon.”

“Did you want me to wait?” Shinso asked, unsure of what to do. Free time usually meant hiding in his room. It wasn’t really free time. Now that he had it, he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. Maybe that’s what made it so uncomfortable.

“Only if you feel the need to,” Aizawa said as he stuffed a few folders into his bag. “You’re free to do what you feel best with your free time, but we do ask you join us for dinner tonight. We want to go over some house rules.”

“Oh,” Shinso mumbled, unsure of how to take the information. He had been hoping to be told to wait, to do homework, to go home and do chores, something. Shinso hadn’t expected this. What kind of rules would there be? Is it anything he’d already broken? He could only imagine how strict they would be. Aizawa didn’t miss the slightly distressed and uncomfortable look on his charge’s face but said nothing, waiting for him to say something. Shinso’s head swam with questions but before he had a chance to say anything, someone called out, interrupting them.

“Shinso!” Kaminari called from the door, “hey man, come on! We’re gonna hit up the corner store. Come with us.” Shinso raised his eyebrows at the invitation, a little thrown off. He opened his mouth to agree but hesitated, looking back to his teacher and foster parent for permission.

“Go,” Aizawa instructed with a small smile, sensing the hesitation in the boy. “It’s good to have you back in class. Don’t over do it.”

“Yes, sir,” Shinso nodded, understanding the warning. He wanted to say more, but he didn’t want Kaminari to suspect he was staying with the man, so he kept his mouth shut and walked away.

“Come on, dude!” Kaminari insisted, grabbing his arm and practically dragging him down the hall. Aizawa watched with a small smile as Shinso was yanked out of the room and out of site by the enthusiastic blonde, not missing the slight flush to the boy’s ears. Their friendship was all too familiar and while he found it amusing, he also couldn’t help but be a bit worried.

“Well, looks like he’s getting back into the swing of things ok,” Hizashi said as he stepped into the classroom, heading right over to Aizawa’s podium.

“Yeah,” he nodded as his husband leaned against the podium. “I told him to be home for dinner so we could talk to him.”

“Oh, good,” Hizashi smiled. “Any requests for dinner?”

“No,” Aizawa said, “whatever you make will be fine.” Hizashi chuckled at that but stepped a little closer.

“I like your confidence in my cooking abilities,” he joked as Aizawa put the strap of his bag over his shoulder, noticing his husband getting closer.

“You haven’t killed me with it yet,” Aizawa teased in his serious tone. “I’d say that’s a good enough track record.” Hizashi actually laughed at that as he laced his fingers around the strap of the man’s bag, tugging on it and pulling the man closer. “Hizashi,” Aizawa warned quietly as he allowed himself to be pulled closer to the blonde. The distance between them was a lot closer than what was considered professional. “Do you really think this is a good idea?” he asked his husband as he looked up to him, seeing his cheesy grin.

“What’s the harm?” he asked quietly, leaning in closer, “No one’s here.” Hizashi leaned in and kissed Aizawa’s cheek. Aizawa smiled a bit and leaned into the kiss.
“We’re at work,” he reminded as he placed a hand on his chest with the intention of gently pushing him away. “We should at least try to remain professional.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Hiszashi asked, making Aizawa roll his eyes at his husband with three jobs. Hizashi leaned in and kissed him on the lips this time. It was just a quick peck of the lips and Aizawa returned it. It was only a moment, hardly even a second, but it was damning enough. A gasp alerted the two adults, letting them know they were no longer as alone as they had initially thought. The two didn’t jump apart, they weren’t blushing or overly embarrassed. They looked at each other before looking at the door with mild surprise. Ururaka stood at the door, face pink and hand over her mouth. Though the two teachers appeared completely at ease, Ururaka looked incredibly embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, “I didn’t mean too… I uh,” she inched into the room, awkwardly making her way to her desk. “I uh, forgot my notebook. I’m just…” The two adults watched her calmly as she continued to stammer and try to make her way to the door, apologizing. She finally stopped stumbling over her words when she bumped against a desk, knocking her knee against it sharply, making her hiss and wince. “Oh, shoot!”

“You alright, little listener?” Hizashi asked with an amused smile. Ururaka righted herself, flushing deeper pink.

“I’m fine!” she insisted as she quickly head to the door. “I’m so sorry-“

“It’s fine,” Aziawa assured, cutting her off. “We’ll see you tomorrow in class. Enjoy your evening.” Ururaka paused at the door, looking between her two teachers for a moment before nodding and swiftly exciting, thoroughly embarrassed. Once they were sure she was gone, Aizawa delivered a swift elbow to his husband’s ribs, making him let out an oof and a chuckle.

“What was that for?” he asked through his laughter.

“For terrorizing me and my students,” Aizawa teased dryly before Hizashi gently grabbed his arm, pulling him in close once more.

“Oh, come on,” Hizashi drawled before giving him another quick kiss. “I know you like the attention. Besides, you can’t tell me that wasn’t funny.” Aizawa looked him over for a moment before stepping away. Yes, it was funny, but he wasn’t going to give in.

“What do you want to eat?” Kaminari asked as they stepped into the small corner store. The rest of their group had dispersed throughout the store, looking for their snacks. Warmth crept up Shinso’s neck as he rubbed the back of his head.

“I’m alright,” he assured, “I forgot my wallet at home today.” Kaminari seemed to brighten at that, startling Shinso.

“Hey, that’s alright!” Kaminari assured with a big smile, “It’s on me today. Think of it as a “welcome back” gift!” Shinso dropped his hand and instead tugged his scarf up over his mouth, hoping to hide the flush.

“If you’re sure,” he mumbled quietly. His friend just smiled and grabbed his arm again, tugging him over to the snacks.

“Of course I’m sure!” Kaminari insisted. As he turned to flash him another smile, he paused, seeing the red flush on the boy’s face. “Woah, you feeling ok? You look a little warm,” he said as he reached out to feel his forehead. Shinso leaned away from the touch as his blush deepened.

“I’m fine,” he assured before clearing his throat. “What are you getting?” he asked, jerking his chin in the direction of the snacks, sending Kaminari’s attention elsewhere. The blonde was picking up what Shinso was putting down and just winked at him before turning to the shelves of food. Shinso let out a quiet exhale of relief. Kaminari may seem oblivious to a lot of things, but he was really good at reading other people. It was something Shinso noticed very quickly. The boy wasn’t the most academically gifted, but he wasn’t an idiot. His greatest strength was his sociability. Kaminari could strike up a conversation with anyone and get along with just about everyone. He picked up on social cues and a person’s distress or discomfort and seemed to be an expert at changing topics or breaking the ice. It was a gift Shinso envied. People were always afraid of him or warry. He made people uncomfortable and sometimes he wasn’t sure if it was because of his quirk or his personality. He’d grown tired of it and instead decided to push everyone away, leaning into the discomfort he caused. Shinso told himself he didn’t need anyone, he didn’t need friends.

But as he stood outside with his friends, everyone laughing and talking and eating their snacks as they walked down the sidewalk, he realized he did need friends. Shinso looked at their smiling faces and let their laughter warm him. He took comfort in their presence. A few weeks ago he had been convinced he would never see them again, never hear from them again, yet there he was. That fear, that overwhelming feeling of loss at the idea of never seeing them again surprised him at first. But when Kaminari turned to look at him and flash him a gentle smile, he couldn’t help but wonder who wouldn’t miss them. Who wouldn’t miss Kaminari? Who wouldn’t miss his smiles?

As the group continued their way down the sidewalk, snacks were eaten, jokes were shared, and people slowly began heading home. One by one people departed the group, saying their goodbyes and well wishes. It continued like that until it was just Shinso and Kaminari left.

“I go down this way,” Kaminari indicated in a direction, “which way are you headed?” Shinso checked the map on his phone and his heart fluttered when he saw where he was heading.

“Looks like I’m going that way, too,” he answered, making the blonde laugh.

“What, are you just trying to spend more time with me?” Kaminari teased, making Shinso flush and choke on the dry air, triggering a brief coughing fit, making Kaminari laugh even harder as he patted Shinso’s back. “Oh, shit, sorry, dude,” he chuckled as Shinso caught his breath.

“It’s fine,” Shinso assured as he straightened up and started walking, unable to look Kaminari in the eyes. The blonde boy walked beside him, clearly unbothered. They walked together in silence and Shinso wracked his brain for something to say, anything to say. However, Kaminari was the one to break the silence first as they reached the end of the block.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked, turning to his friend. Shinso blinked, a little startled and unnerved by the question.

“Sure,” he nodded.

“You’re not going back to that lady that was at the hospital, right?” Kaminari asked. Shinso looked at him, confused for a moment before realization washed over his face. Though the memory was hazy, it was there. He could feel the sting on his cheek from where she had struck him. His ears rang with her harsh words. Shinso rubbed the spot on his cheek in thought. He had hoped they had all forgotten about it, but clearly Kaminari had not.

“No,” Shinso told him, his brain racing, trying to figure out just how much to reveal. “No, I don’t live with her anymore.”

“Anymore?” Kaminari pressed and Shinso kicked himself. “So you were living with her. Is she really your mom? She didn’t seem like it.”

“No,” Shinso stopped him from continuing. “She was my foster mom. I’m not staying with her anymore. I’m sorry you guys had to see that.”

“Oh! So you’re with a new family?” Kaminari asked with an excited smile. “How do you like it so far? They gotta be better than her, right?” Shinso blinked at his enthusiasm. People got uncomfortable talking about this stuff, but clearly Kaminari didn’t.

“It’s nice,” Shinso answered slowly, “I’m with a good couple now. I stayed with them while I was sick, actually.” Kaminari stopped walking and looked at him curiously. Shinso stared back, a little alarmed and suddenly feeling like he had said too much. He could see the wheels turning in Kaminari’s head and Shinso was afraid of the next question. Instead of a question, though, Shinso got a bright smile.

“Cool! That’s good to hear, man,” Kaminari encouraged before walking again. Shinso let out a sigh of relief but something told him Kaminari was piecing something together uncomfortably quick.

For now, at least, his secret was safe.

Chapter Text

The walk home left Shinso’s thoughts racing, worry churning in his stomach. Did Kaminari know? What did he know? His little smile told him he knew something, but what did he know? His anxiety grew the closer he got to the apartment but the anxiety wasn’t just from his friend.

Dinner was getting closer as every second passed. That only lead to more questions. What were the rules? What were the expectations? Had he done something wrong? Why did they need to talk to him? What were the punishments? Shinso sat in his room, trying to focus on homework and failing. He tried to drown out his thoughts with music, but he only ended up laying on his bed, music in his ears, eyes on the ceiling, and mind a million miles away. Song after song played but he didn’t hear the lyrics. His whole body was tense as he lay there and after a while his jaw began to ache from being clenched so tightly. The smell of food being cooked only made his stomach churn more, not because of hunger but because that meant it was almost time for dinner. He heard Aizawa coming home, calling into the apartment tiredly in a greeting. Cheery voices were on the edge of his awareness, dulled just enough by the music.

Sitting at the table with his two new foster parents in front of him did nothing to soothe his nerves either. Shinso sat stifle, watching his two teachers as they sat and severed themselves, talking and smiling and passing him the food as well. They would ask him questions, trying to include him in the conversation, but he kept his answers brief, not allowing for much conversation.

“How was your first day back?” Present Mic asked with a gentle smile.

“Fine,” Shinso supplied. Present Mic looked at him for a moment, as though confused but smiled again.

“It must have been nice to see everyone again,” he suggested, “How’s homework tonight? Do you need help with anything?”

“Not yet,” Shinso answered, moving the food around on his plate idly.

“His classmates were pleased to have him back,” Aizawa supplied, “they practically mobbed him when he arrived at home room.” Hizashi laughed quietly at that.

“When I subbed for your class, I can’t even tell you how many times they asked about Shinso,” Hizashi said before turning to Shinso, “Kaminari seemed particularly distressed at your absence.” Shinso tried not to narrow his eyes in suspicion. There was something in Present Mic’s tone that just wasn’t quite right.

“Oh,” was all he managed. This continued on for a bit and did not go unnoticed by his teachers. They were keenly aware of the tension and of the uneaten food on his plate.

“Something wrong?” Aizawa asked after a bit, cutting through any pretenses. Shinso looked at him and the man saw a muscle in his jaw flex. “You haven’t touched your food.”

“If it’s not something you like-“ Hizashi started but Shinso quietly cut in.

“It’s fine,” he assured. “Just not hungry.” The two men shared a look before turning their attention back to him.

“Something on your mind?” Hizashi asked gently, not wanting to push. Shinso looked between them, feeling the worry growing. Yes, there was something on his mind but he was terrified to bring it up. He tried to remember all of the times over the last few weeks where he expected anger and violence but instead received kindness. These two weren’t his previous foster parents. These two were his teachers. He could trust them.

“Have I…” Shinso hesitated, gauging their reactions and pausing. Maybe a question wasn’t the best way to approach this. “If I’ve done something to upset you two, I apologize.” The two looked at him with visible confusion. Ok, so maybe they weren’t mad at him.

“What makes you feel like you’ve done something wrong?” Aizawa asked him calmly before taking a bit of his food.

“Uh,” Shinso paused for a moment, his doubt growing. “You guys wanted to talk about some rules,” Shinso reminded them. “I figured you guys wouldn’t have brought it up if I hadn’t done something wrong.” He was startled when Hizashi let out a snort of amusement. Even Aizawa tried to hide his smile.

“Kid, the whole point of this conversation is so you don’t have to worry about doing something wrong,” Hizashi told him with a smile. “You haven’t done anything wrong. And don’t think of these as rules, more as ways we can all live together without wanting to rip each other’s head off.”

“When Hizashi and I first moved in together it was a big adjustment for the both of us,” Aizawa explained, seeing the confusion on the boy’s face. “We were constantly miscommunicating and never seemed to be on the same page. It caused a lot of fights, but we figured it out. We wanted to avoid that with you. We figured if we all agree on some ground rules, it would help things go smoothly.” Shinso’s eyebrows furrowed. They weren’t angry. They were trying to help. He shouldn’t be so confused but they were trying to make things easier for him. When had his previous foster parents ever taken him into consideration?

“Oh,” was all he managed to get out, “Alright.” Hizashi smiled at him.

“Don’t worry, kid,” he assured, “the only one I’m mad at right now is the little furry monster that thinks she owns the place.” A whiny meow called to them from the living room and Hizashi scowled, turning his attention to the cat that was perched on the back of the couch and staring at them. “You had your chance, traitor!” he shouted, earning a chuckle from Shinso and a snort from Aizawa.

“What did she do?” Shinso asked , trying to hide his smile. Hizashi shoved his sleeve up, revealing a long but shallow scratch.

“I was just giving her the love she insisted on when she decided I was her new scratching post!” he whined dramatically, and Shinso couldn’t help but laugh a bit at the eccentric man. As the quiet laughter bubbled up from his chest, he found the tension began to melt away.

“While we’re on the topic, why don’t we go ahead and get it out of the way,” Aizawa suggested as he set down his utensils and leaned back a moment. Shinso nodded and tried to keep the small smile on his face, trying to seem at ease. Though they had managed to make him feel a little better, he was still warry. “I want to start by reminding you there’s no restrictions on the food in the home. If you are hungry, eat. If you are thirsty, drink. If you need medicine, let us know. If there is something you need that we do not have, tell us and we will provide it.” Shinso sat and listened as Aizawa continued, slowly eating his food. “You are free to decorate your room as you wish. It is your room and we want you to feel comfortable in your space. Any questions so far?”

“No,” Shinso assured.

“Groovy,” Hizashi interjected with a cheesy grin, making Aizawa roll his eyes. “So, you seem to be able to handle yourself getting to school in the mornings. There’s gonna be times where we may have to leave early, that ok with you?”

“Yeah,” Shinso nodded, “I’m learning the route pretty quickly, but I’m used to waking myself up in the morning. It’s not a problem.”

“Alright,” Aizawa nodded, “are you comfortable staying home by yourself? On Friday’s Hizashi has his radio station. I will have to pick up patrolling again soon, now that you’re better. This may mean you’ll be on your own for extended periods of time.”

“That’ fine,” Shinso assured. “My previous families would leave me for days sometimes. Kinda preferred it, actually.” Hizashi grimaced at that and gave a concerned look to Aizawa.

“We should at least give him Nemuri’s number,” he suggested.

“Who?” Shinso asked, looking between the two of them.

“Midnight,” Aizawa explained, making Shinso’s eyebrows raise a bit. “She lives nearby and is an old friend of ours. If something happens and you can’t reach us, you’ll be able to call her. We’ll also make sure you have plenty of food, or money in case you want take out.”

“No parties, though!” Hizashi joked making Shinso choke on his food a bit, triggering a couching fit. Hizashi laughed good naturedly and Aizawa shot his husband a tired look.

“That does bring up another thing,” Aizawa continued as Shinso took a sip of his water. “We are fine if you’d like to have a guest over, though we would prefer they not stay too late on a school night.”

“Oh,” Shinso waived his hand dismissively, “that won’t be an issue.”

“No?” Hizashi asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he rested his chin on his hand. He thought for a minute before a small grin cracked across his face. “I guess it would be weird going to your teacher’s house after school.”

“It’s not that,” Shinso assured before shifting in his seat awkwardly, eyes downcast to his plate. “Just can’t think of anyone I’d invite.” Aizawa and Hizashi shared a look once more, completely unbeknownst to the purple haired teen.

“Then if there’s ever a time you won’t be home before dinner, we ask you let us know,” Aizawa told him, keeping it vague. Shinso flicked his purple eyes to his teacher before nodding. He couldn’t help but feel as though they were tip toeing around something and it made him nervous.

“What days do I need to do the chores on?” Shinso asked, suspecting that was it. Maybe they were just nervous about telling him to do housework.

“I dunno, there’s no set day we do chores on,” Hizashi said before looking at his husband for confirmation for a moment. “We just kinda pick up after ourselves, so I guess if you keep your space clean there shouldn’t be too much to do. If you cook something just clean the dishes you use. I can’t really think of anything else, can you, Sho?”

“No, I mean,” Shinso hesitated, not knowing how to explain it. Typically, the housekeeping had been left to him. Trash days fluctuated depending on the location of the household. Bathrooms needed to be cleaned weekly, same with the bathrooms. Dusting was constantly done and he often times found himself having to clean the kitchen or put things away that had been left out by other children or adults.

“Maintaining a clean living space is a responsibility of all parties sharing that space,” Aizawa told him, sensing where his confusion may be coming from. Shinso couldn’t help but feel a little relieved at that. “We would not ask you to clean up after us.”

“Oh, yeah, kid,” Hizashi added, “didn’t realize that’s what you meant! We’re grown ups, we know how to clean up our messes,” he teased, earning an amused smile from Shinso. “Now!” Hizashi announced as he stood, “who wants dessert?”

The rest of the time they spent together sitting at the dinner table was warm and relaxing. Shinso felt himself feeling safer as time went on. The conversation was light and easy and the cake was delicious. Sweets wasn’t something he was used to, but he was slowly becoming accustomed to it. It seemed to help break up any lingering tension. He actually felt a little better now that he knew how much freedom he was getting. It was a very stark contrast from what he was used to, but it wasn’t unpleasant. That being said, there was one topic that was stuck in his head.

Who would he invite over?

An eccentric blonde came to mind and he felt his face flush a bit. Shinso sat at his desk, text book and homework open, but he had lost his place. He was too busy wondering what would happen if he did invite the blonde over. Shinso had no doubt in his mind Kaminari would decline the invitation, but as he sat there at his desk, purple eyes gazing up at the sky, he couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if he said yes.

Chapter Text

Shinso found himself settling into a routine during his first week back. It was a comfortable routine that gave him a sense of stability. He felt safe now, comfortable. He would wake up and get himself to school and then walk home with his friends until they all parted ways. He would find himself wondering if this was how being a normal kid felt.

He liked it.

Shinso smiled a bit more often and found it so much easier to focus in class. Now that he had access to food regularly and didn’t have to worry about where he was going to sleep, he found he had so much more energy. Aizawa still didn’t like the cough that lingered, so he wasn’t back to afterschool practice. However, he was able to start participating in class activities. He was getting back into the swing of things and really coming into his own. But it all came crashing down around him.
On the third day, Shinso’s team had been the victors in the class training exercise. His actions had tipped the fight in his team’s favor, giving them the opportunity to win. He had gotten used to the praise from his teammates, though it was still unnerving having so much positive attention. What kicked off the several day long spiral was Aizawa’s comment after class.

“You did well today. Nice job,” his teacher told him as Shinso began to leave. The purple haired boy froze and turned to his teacher. “I’ll see you at home.” He watched as Aizawa headed towards his office and Shinso felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him. At first he was over the moon with the praise, but it only lasted a moment.

Why did he praise him now? His usual praise was “good work.” Does the change in phrasing mean it was a lie? The echoes of foster parents’ sarcastic praises when he messed up or stepped out of line rattled around in his head. Did he do something wrong? Why did he remind Shinso he would see him at home? Was Aizawa angry? What did he do wrong?

The entire walk home Shinso was in his head. His thoughts were spinning with every what if scenario. Scenes from previous families flashed in his head. Would Aizawa tell him what he did wrong? What would the punishment be? Did he not do well enough in the exercise? Had he screwed up in class? Did he embarrass himself?
Shinso was so engrossed in his thoughts, even Kaminari had trouble holding his attention.

He stumbled in through the front door, his stomach in knots. Shinso kicked off his shoes and shuffled down the hall into the apartment. He found Present Mic in the kitchen cooking dinner while something played on the record player. The bright and cozy space made him smile a bit. This was a safe home. If something was wrong, surely they’d be forgiving.

“Hey, listener!” Present Mic greeted from his spot in front of the stove, “how was school?”

“Fine,” Shinso said as he set his bag in his chair. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Mind setting the table?” Hizashi asked, tossing a smile over his shoulder, “Shota should be home soon and the food’s almost done.” Shinso felt the unease creeping back into him at the reminder of Aizawa coming home. Present Mic didn’t mean anything by it, surely. He tried to shrug off the feeling of dread as he grabbed the plates and cups and silverware. He did as asked and set the table in their spots. He moved the work and papers to the living room before grabbing his bag, intending to take it to his room.

“Need anything else?” Shinso asked as he lingered in the doorway. He watched as his blonde foster parent looked at the table.

“Nope,” Hizashi said with smile, “thanks for your help.” Shinso hesitated at that. Had he forgotten something? Was he genuinely thanking him for the help or had he fucked up again? He wanted to believe the man meant it but he couldn’t be sure. Hizashi picked up on the boy’s unease and looked at him in worry. “Something you wanna say?” Shinso’s purple eyes snapped to the man and though worry laced his tone, Shinso picked up on the threat loud and clear.

“No, sir,” he said simply before briskly taking himself down the hall and too his room where he quietly shut his door.

“Sir?” Hizashi asked himself. Shinso hadn’t referred to either of them at home like that in a while. With the confusion still clear on his face, Hizashi turned to the only other person who could help him. “What’s gotten into him?”

“Meow,” was the only response he got.

Shinso sat on the edge of his bed, staring down at his hands. His bag sat on the chair for the desk they had given him. He had managed to change into sweatpants but sat with the sweater in his hands. It was a purple sweatshirt, one of the first ones bought for him. Was it rude to wear it when they were mad at him? Would they just be reminded of how much money they had wasted on him? He didn’t want them to be angry with him. He didn’t mean to upset them, but clearly whatever he had done at school had gotten back to Hizashi.

He wanted to make it right, but how can he fix it if he didn’t know what was wrong?

The rest of the night went in the same pattern. Shinso would try to keep out of their way, try to stay quiet. He would keep his answers to questions short and simple, waiting to be snapped at for breathing wrong. He didn’t know when it was coming, only that it was soon. The two adults he lived with noticed. They tried to ask him if he was alright, but only got “fine.” When the teen finally retreated to bed, they huddled together on the couch, quietly sharing their concerns.

“He’s been that way since he got home,” Hizashi explained. “Did something happen at school?”

“I don’t know,” Aizawa admitted. “He seemed fine until the end of class.”

“Do you think the bronchitis is coming back?” Hizashi asked, sitting up a bit. “Should we take him to the doctor’s?”

“I don’t think that’s it.”

“What do we do?” Hizashi asked. “I feel like we’ve done something wrong, but for the life of me I can’t think of anything. Maybe we said or did something that one of his foster parent’s did.”

“I don’t know,” Aizawa sighed, worry etching into his features. “I want him to feel safe here.”

“Maybe we should wait a bit,” Hizashi suggested, “maybe he just needs a good night’s sleep.”

Unfortunately, Shinso did not get a good night’s sleep. Instead of doing his homework, he had sat by the door, listening. He heard them talking quietly but couldn’t make out the words. Whatever they were discussing, they didn’t want him to hear.

That meant danger.

He tried to get some sleep, he really did, but his heart was racing to fast. His head was buzzing with alarm. He lay in bed all night, not even letting music send him to the land of dreams. Shinso lay there, listening for every sound in the house. Every time footsteps came down the hall, he held his breath, waiting for his door to slam open. He would tense, ready to run or fight to get away. Every time, he heard the bathroom door close. Then the footsteps would walk away.

Shinso wasn’t safe from his fears at school. He could feel eyes on him and it made his skin crawl. Every smile from a friend was a smirk. Every word of encouragement was pity. Praise seemed to set him further on edge. Had he really been so blind all this time? They didn’t care about him. They didn’t like him.

They pitied him.

The praise was hiding their disappointment. He was doing the bare minimum and receiving so much attention for it. Clearly he was doing something wrong, but what? Why were they staring at him like that? Why were they smiling at him like that? Why did their words sound so forced? What was he doing wrong?

It wasn’t until later that night that he finally got his answer.

Shinso sat on the edge of his bed, tensing and waiting. He had skipped dinner and every bone in his body was screaming that it was the wrong answer. Declining dinner was just digging him into a deeper hole. His thoughts spiraled out, wondering why he was making this so hard on himself. Even the cat couldn’t ease his worries.

Aizawa found him like that, sitting on the edge of his bed, knuckles white as he gripped the sheets. The moment his eyes were on the boy, Shinso hung his head and blurted out an apology.

“I’m sorry,” Shinso said. Aizawa froze in his step, brows furrowing, accentuating the lines in his tired face. “I’m sorry,” Shinso repeated, continuing to stare at the floor.
“I don’t know what I did wrong, but I didn’t mean to offend either of you.”

“You didn’t,” Aizawa assured, though he was still very confused. Before he could ask the boy about it, Shinso spoke once more.

“Then why are you two angry with me?” Shinso asked sharply. “What did I do wrong? I don’t want to seem ungrateful.” He looked up at his teacher with determination. “Tell me what I did so I can fix it,” he insisted. “Please, just tell me.”

“Hitoshi,” Aizawa called to him calmly, his hands raised a bit, palms down in a gesture to encourage him to relax. “We aren’t mad at you. You haven’t done anything wrong.” Silence lapsed between them as Aizawa struggled to understand what exactly was going on. “What makes you think you’ve done something?” Shinso opened his mouth to speak but paused. The memory of what kicked this off was clear as day in his head and to him it made perfect sense.

But when he opened his mouth to explain, when the words were moments from slipping out of him, he was struck with how absurd it all was. For the first time in days, he suddenly felt a little more clear minded.

Afterall, wouldn’t you feel ridiculous telling your idol you were upset they praised you?

“I uh…” Shinso suddenly found he didn’t know what to say. An embarrassed blush crept across his face as he looked down again, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “Now that I think about it…”

“Did something happen?” Aizawa pushed carefully.

“No, no,” Shinso started. “I mean, not really.” When Shinso didn’t elaborate, Aizawa took a few slow steps forward. Shinso’s purple eyes were on him, watching and waiting, but made no other indication for him to stop. Aizawa continued until he was sat on the bed next to his foster child.

“I know things seem strange right now,” he began, “to be honest, this is first for us as well. We won’t always know the right things to say, or how best to support you.” Aizawa looked at the boy who had glanced away. He was tempted to rest a hand on his shoulder, but didn’t want to overwhelm him, so he kept his hands on his knees. “That being said, we want to be two people you can trust and feel safe with. We don’t ever want you to feel like you have to hide from us, or that you have to lie. If something’s on your mind, we will listen.” Shinso was silent at first and Aizawa let him be. They sat there in the silence for a small while before Aizawa rose to his feet. He had said what he needed to say and gave Shinso the space to talk. His had gotten the impressions Shinso didn’t have anything he wanted to share, but really Shinso couldn’t decide where to start.

“You said ‘nice job,’” Shinso finally spoke before the man could step away. Aizawa raised an eyebrow and turned to his foster child, waiting for him to continue. He could hear the boy swallow nervously as he rubbed his chest. “You said ‘nice job,’ but it’s usually ‘good work’ or something. And then you reminded me I’d see you at home.” Shinso looked up and Aizawa was startled by how scared the boy looked. “I thought I’d done something wrong. That I had made you mad. I’ve been trying to understand what I did, but I can’t-“ Shinso took in a deep breath and Aizawa could just stand and stare in surprise. “And when I came home, I tried to help Present Mic set the table, but I fucked it up and I don’t know how,” Shinso looked back down at the floor as he continued to rub his chest. He began to talk faster and seemed to struggle to pace himself. Once he had started, it all seemed to fall out. “And then I heard you two talking. I didn’t mean to eaves drop and I don’t know what it was about, but I can’t help but feel like I’ve upset you guys, and I can’t shake the feeling everyone at school is watching me, like I keep messing up, and I don’t know what I’m doing, and no one’s telling me and-“

“Hitoshi,” Aizawa spoke calmly, cutting him off. “Hitoshi, take a deep breath,” Aizawa encouraged as he crouched down in front of the teen. Shinso inhaled deeply and tried to hold it, but just that inhale made the rubber band in his chest snap. The tears that had started to well finally spilled over and a choked sob followed.

“What the fuck,” he mumbled as he tried to stop crying. He brought the back of his hand up to his mouth to try and stay quiet. “What the fuck?” he repeated. “Why? What?”

“It’s ok, just let it out,” Aizawa told him as he rested a hand on the boy’s knee, patting it. “Just let it out, kid.”

So he did.

Shinso’s face scrunched as he cried, ducking his head so he wouldn’t have to look at his teacher while the tears rolled down his face.

“It hurts,” he choked out and Aizawa patted his knee again.

“Take a deep breath, kid,” Aizawa encouraged and he watched as the teen took in a shaky breath. Shinso was shaking and could feel his heart racing, pumping wildly. He was afraid. He was so afraid.

“Take another,” His teacher instructed. Shinso took in another shaky breath before slowly letting it out. This one was easier and his crying was starting to slow.

“Another.” Aizawa told him and Shinso breathed in.

“Why does it hurt?” Shinso asked, his voice hoarse.

“Looks like you’re having another panic attack, kid,” Aizawa told him slowly. “Keep breathing deep,” he instructed, seeing Shinso about to try and talk again. He needed the boy to focus on his breathing. “You’re safe here. No one’s mad at you. You haven’t done anything wrong. We were a little worried about you, but we aren’t upset or anything.”

“I’m sorry,” Shinso choked out a whisper as the tears continued to fall.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Aizawa assured, giving the kid’s knee a comforting squeeze. Shinso felt it and suddenly remembered the night they had officially done the paperwork to foster him, being held in both of their embraces and the comfort it brought. He found himself wanting that, to feel that comforting embrace once more.

“Can I…” Shinso tried to ask but let the words die. He felt so stupid. Not only had he worked himself up over nothing, but now he was asking for a hug. What was he, five? This was his teacher for shit’s sake. He didn’t need to be asking Pro Hero Eraser Head for a hug.

“Hm?” Aizawa prompted.

“It’s nothing,” Shinso sniffled, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand as he continued to try an breathe. “It’s stupid, anyway.” The man crouched before him eyed him suspiciously, clearly not believing him.

“What did you want to do?” Aizawa pushed. “Don’t be afraid to ask. You’re not going to get into trouble for asking for something.” Shinso winced at that, feeling foolish. He rubbed his arms and looked away again, feeling embarrassed. However, the longer he stalled, the more awkward it would be. Might as well just let it spill.

“I was just…” he started, struggling to find a way to say it. He rubbed the back of his neck, fidgeting. “I just was wondering…” he let out a huff and dropped his hands to his lap. Shinso looked at his teacher, feeling his face heat up in embarrassment. “You remember the night you guys had me sign that paper?”

“When we officially got custody of you?” Aizawa asked to make sure he was thinking of the right night. Shinso nodded, his expression serious. “What about it?”

“Before I signed you guys, uh,” Shinso kicked himself for struggling so much but tried to continue, “when we were all on the floor…”

“When we hugged you?” Aizawa asked and tilted his head, furrowing his eyebrows, trying to understand what the kid wanted. Shinso slowly nodded his head, hoping his teacher would understand. It took Aizawa a few seconds, but then it clicked. A small grin cracked across his face as he shook the teen’s knee. “Are you asking for a hug?” he asked, amused by the teen’s embarrassment. Slowly Shinso nodded and his grin got a little wider. With a grunt he lifted himself to his feet and stepped back. Shinso sat, tensely waiting for the man to laugh at him, ridicule him, tell him to get lost. Instead, his foster dad stepped back and opened his arms.

Shinso expected himself to hesitate, but once Aizawa’s arms opened, the boy launched himself off the bed. Without realizing he had moved, he crashed into his foster dad, wrapping his arms around the man’s middle. Aizawa let out a quiet “oof,” and staggered a bit, steadying himself. Shinso felt more than heard the quiet chuckle as warm, sturdy arms wrapped around him. Shinso felt his eyes burning with those pesky tears and squeezed his eyes shut. The tears fell anyway and he buried his face in the man’s shoulder, squeezing him a little tighter. He expected the man to push him away at any moment but instead Aizawa leaned his cheek against the boy’s head and held him.

“You guys always forget you’re still just kids,” Aizawa teased him quietly as he held the kid. He could feel Shinso shaking with quiet tears and he rubbed the teen’s back to comfort him. “Being a hero isn’t easy and training for it’s no walk in the park. You’re going to be scared and overwhelmed and there’s a lot we can’t protect you from.” Aizawa spoke. He knew the dangers of the job all too well and he knew Shinso had a long way to go, but he needed to make sure Shinso understood this. “It’s going to get harder. School will get more difficult. The internships alone make or break you. I can’t protect you all from the harsh reality of hero work. But when you walk through that door, when you come into this space, I promise you, nothing and no one will hurt you.” Shinso choked out a sob, smothering himself in the man’s shoulder. He was being promised safety and he believed it. He could actually believe Aizawa would keep him safe. A hand ran through his hair and he cried a little harder at the affection. “You’re safe here.” Aizawa repeated. “If you need something, let us know. I know Hizashi would lose his mind if you asked him for a hug.” Shinso laughed at that. He couldn’t help it. He pictured Present Mic and his tall hair lighting up at the idea of a hug. Slowly he began to release Aizawa, leaning away. Slowly, Aizawa released him, but rested his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Feel a little better?” he asked gently.

“Yeah,” Shinso sniffled as he wiped away his tears. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t apologize,” Aizawa told him. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“I just don’t even know if you like this kind of stuff,” Shinso shrugged, referring to the hug. He’d never really received much affection growing up. Hell, he didn’t even realize he liked hugs. He didn’t realize how comforting it could be or how safe he would feel. He wondered if this was what they meant when his classmates talked about being “touch starved.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t,” Aizawa assured him. “Though I won’t be hugging you at school. I don’t want the rest of the class getting any ideas,” the man teased and Shinso laughed again before trying to quiet himself. He could see it now, the grumpy teacher in his sleeping bag being hugged by most of the class.

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” Shinso joked quietly, earning an amused smirk from Aizawa. Before he could say anything else, a knock at the door alerted them to Hizashi’s presence.

“Everything alright?” the blonde asked as he lingered in the door. The cat meowed quietly as she joined them, brushing past everyone’s legs.

“Yeah,” Shinso said as he sniffled again, trying to offer a smile. “Just a rough day.”

“More like a rough couple of days,” Aizawa filled in before turning to his husband. “He thought we were upset with him. He’s been keeping it to himself.”

“What?” Hizashi asked, his smile slipping to a concerned look. “I’m sorry, Shinso, I had no idea!”

“It’s fine,” the teen waved him off, trying to dismiss the apology. “I’ve just been in my head a bit.”

“Nothing a hug couldn’t fix,” Aizawa smirked at his husband, having a good idea of what was going to happen next. As expected, Hizashi’s eyes lit up as he looked at the purple haired teen.

“Do you want another hug, Shinso?” Hizashi asked, his tone almost too serious for the question. Shinso glanced at Aizawa for a moment in confusion.

“Uh, sure,” he nodded. Before the sentence fully left him, Hizashi had already started charging them. With a joking cry, the blonde tackled the two more stoic individual’s wrapping his long arms around them and sending them crashing to the bed with a wild laugh.

It was so absurd and so unexpected. Shinso couldn’t help it. He laughed. He laughed with Hizashi as the blonde crashed on top of them. He laughed with the quiet chuckles of Aizawa. He laughed with the indignant meows of the cat who had been displaced by the bouncing bed. He laughed so hard his ribs hurt. He laughed so hard tears formed at the edges of his eyes. The three of them lay like that, holding onto each other and just laughing.

Shinso still had a long way to go, but for now, he was ok.

Chapter Text

“Alright!” Kaminari cheered after their team won the fight. The blonde turned to Shinso with his bright smile and offered his hand for a high five. Kaminari always offered a high five to Shinso and Shinso always declined, turning away or just staring at him until he got the hint. Shinso didn’t know why he suddenly changed this. Maybe he was inspired by the hug, maybe he just wanted to give the guy a break, maybe he was just in a good enough mood. Well, the reason didn’t matter to Kaminari. All that mattered, was for the first time since Shinso joined their class, Shinso returned the high five.

With the way the blonde lit up, Shinso wondered if Kaminari’s head would explode with excitement. That was the first time Shinso explored touch but it wasn’t the last. This he did know to be inspired by the hug from his foster dads.

After that initial hug, the two adults gave him space, not wanting to overwhelm the kid who had grown used to physical violence. Shinso appreciated it, but he was sure to give them hugs goodnight. He felt foolish giving them hugs. Afterall, he was a teenager and teenagers were supposed to be too cool for hugging their parents. But these weren’t his parents. They were his teachers, his heroes, his protectors. And Shinso figured he had to make up for all the affection he had missed growing up. However he felt about it, the two adults were more than willing to oblige. If the boy asked for a hug, he got a hug. If he stayed out of arms reach, they didn’t push. Some nights they all ended up in the living room with Shinso squished between them. Some nights he hung out in his room, enjoying the peace and quiet.

Shinso had gotten comfortable with the two adults and he realized he enjoyed receiving this kind of touch. There were some days when he still flinched, expecting the stinging touch of the quirk that would lead to paralysis, but it never came. With the growing comfort he began to wonder about his classmates. When he paid attention to them, he noticed many of them shared touch. Kirishima would rest a heavy hand on Bakugo’s shoulder or bravely drape an arm around him. Jiro and Momo would lean on each other. Ururaka and Tsuyu would often times hold hands or link arms. Mina and Tohru would often do the same or wrap and arm around one of the boys. Inspired by the hug, SHinso starts exploring touch w kaminari. Midoriya, Iida, and Todoroki kept their hands to themselves, but never shied away when someone else initiated the touch. The entire class was close and one of the ways they showed it was how they would touch or hold each other or even just how they would exist in the same space. Shinso had always felt like an outsider, and Class 1-A was no different. Perhaps, if he also shared this affection with his classmates, it would help bridge some of the distance he felt.

But how?

Well, Kaminari was the best and the worst place to start. He was the best place because he was constantly trying to touch Shinso. He was the worst place because he was constantly trying to touch Shinso. The problem when he did touch Shinso was the blush that would creep up the quieter boy’s neck and inevitably reach his face. Even the warmth of Kaminari’s hand against his for a high five was enough to make his head spin.

Oh yeah, this has to be what being touch starved is.

Kaminari was over the moon at the high five and it emboldened him to toss his arm around Shinso’s shoulder, pulling him in closer. Shinso’s face flushed red and he tried to cover it with his mask as they walked, Kaminari talking excitedly to classmates as they all headed to the locker rooms, clearly oblivious to Shinso’s distress. However, that high five seemed to kickstart a string of touches, as though signaling to everyone else to start including him. Mina would slip her arm with his and Jiro would nudge him with her elbow. Momo had even gently touched his arm or tapped his shoulder to get his attention. Kirishima didn’t slap his heavy hand on his shoulder, for which he was grateful, but he would offer high fives, fist bumps, and occasionally sling an arm over his shoulder.

All of these would bring a smile to his face and he started to truly feel like one of them, but there was one person whose touch would put a smile on his face all day. As days passed and turned into weeks, Kaminari would get more and more comfortable touching him more often and longer. What started out as a high five turned into so much more. At lunch they would be forced to sit close together, squished between friends. While most of the group left some space between each other, Kaminari seemed to have no problem practically leaning against Shinso and Shinso was too happy with it to push him away.

It was little touches like those that flustered him. He would think about it all day, too. He would remember how warm Kaminari was as they sat next to each other, pressed together. He would remember the buzzing of electricity that shot up his arm when they brushed past each other as they walk. He would remember the tingle when their fingertips touched as he passed Kaminari a pen or his notes. He would remember how his heart would pound when their knees would touch under the desk or table and Kaminari never pulled away.

It was embarrassing how flustered he would get when Kaminari got in his space, too.

One day, Kaminari had managed to harass Shinso into studying together in the library after school. They sat next to each other as Shinso explained the steps of the problem. First it was their knees touching, then it was Kaminari leaning in, pressing their arms together as stared at the work intently. Kaminari either didn’t notice how close their faces were or didn’t care. Shinso however, was painfully aware. He kept his eyes glued to the paper and notes in front of them, trying to ignore it and stay calm.

“This one would go here, and this would follow,” he said, dragging the pen along. They’d been going over the questions for a while and though Kaminari seemed frustrated, he was making progress. Fortunately, Shinso was patient.

“Oh!” Kaminari interrupted as he reached over Shinso’s arm to point to something. “So then this would go here, right?” he asked, voice hopeful. Shinso looked at it for a moment before cracking a tired smile.

“Yeah, that’-“ Shinso said as he turned to Kaminari. His brain short circuited as Kaminari met his stare. Shinso lost whatever it was he was going to say and couldn’t even remember how to breathe. He was painfully aware of the heat creeping up his neck but he couldn’t look away. Kaminari stared back at him, seeming equally startled by the closeness.

Kaminari stared into those purple eyes and he was struck by the color. He’d been used to different shades of eye color, heck, even his own could be considered out of the norm, but he’d never seen purple eyes. And he’d never seen them so vibrant. The purple eyes, though tired, were stunning, almost hypnotizing. Shinso wouldn’t have to use his quirk on him, he realized. And as he stared into those purple eyes, he clearly caught them flicking a few inches lower before Shinso turned away, trying to compose himself. Kaminari sat with that little bit of information before a playful grin cracked across his face. Shinso cleared his throat as he began gathering up his notes and papers.

“You get the idea,” Shinso said quietly, refusing to look at the blonde.

“Hey, Shinso?” Kaminari asked as he leaned his elbow on the desk and rested his cheek against his hand.

“Hm?” he hummed.

“We’re friends, right?” Kaminari asked. Shinso paused, hand half stuffed in his bag.

“I suppose,” he answered. He tried to sound indifferent, but he still wouldn’t look at the boy. Kaminari’s grin grew wider. A lot of things clicked into place all at once.

“How come we never hang out?” Kaminari asked.

“Just never came up,” Shinso tried to dismiss as he continued to pack his bag. He pulled on the zipper and closed it. He spoke again as he slung it over his shoulder.
“Come out with me this weekend,” Kaminari said, not bothering to move. Shinso froze, his purple eyes locking on the blonde as panic coursed through him. How does he respond to that? What exactly was the blonde implying? There was a hidden message and he couldn’t find it. Frustrated, Shinso scowled down at him.

“What do you want, Kaminari?” he asked, his voice low. Kaminari just kept smiling.

“Kirishima and I are gonna go to the mall and hang out. I got the feeling he’s gonna drag Bakugo with him and I don’t feel like third wheeling,” Kaminari explained slowly, letting his eyes look over the boy that stood before him. Shinso felt his whole body heat up but then a question snapped into his head.

“Third wheel-“ he said, shaking his head, “You mean-“

“Kirishima and Bakugo?” Kaminari asked, blinking, “Wait, you didn’t know?” he asked, trying to hold back his amusement.

“Know what?” Shinso asked. Kaminari tossed his head back and laughed. Shinso, unamused, crossed his arms and stared at him with his tired eyes until the blonde got his shit together.

“Oh, man,” Kaminari wheezed, “Where the hell have you been, dude? They’ve been together. I don’t even remember when it started, it’s been so long.”

“So, they’re gay?” Shinso asked carefully, trying to gauge Kaminari’s reaction. He was treading into dangerous waters at this point. He hadn’t come out to anyone and he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to. But it couldn’t hurt to finds others like him. Kaminari seemed a little startled by the question and his smile faltered a bit. “And everyone’s ok with it?”

“Uh, yeah,” he answered. “I mean, it’d be kinda weird if we weren’t. Most of us are gay. Heck, I’m bi.”

“Oh,” was all Shinso could manage. This was not what he was expecting when he agreed to help him with homework. Kaminari suddenly seemed unsure of himself.
“Is that a problem with you?” he prodded.

“No, no!” Shinso waved his hand trying to diffuse the situation. “I just…I’m not used to people being so…open about it, is all. I don’t mind.” Kaminari didn’t seem too convinced and Shinso couldn’t help but notice Kaminari gave him another once over.

“So…” Kaminari urged.

“So, what?”

“Did you want to come with us?” he clarified and Shinso flushed in embarrassment for forgetting.

“Oh, uhm,” he fumbled as his grip tightened on the strap of his back pack. “Yeah, let me just check. It shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Ok!” Kaminari brightened as he stood and shoved his things in his bag. “Just let me know tomorrow, ok?” Shinso nodded.

“I will.”

“Great!” Kaminari beamed as he tossed his own bag over his shoulder. “Let’s get out of here, then. I’m starving.” Shinso rolled his eyes but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at his lips, relieved at the change of subject.

“You’re not going to do any homework tonight, are you?”

Chapter Text

"So," Kaminari said as he sat in the seat in front of Shinso, folding his arms in front of him and resting his chin on them. He smiled up at his friend as he spoke. "You good to go out this weekend?" he asked. Shinso blinked for a moment, a little startled by the blonde's sudden appearance. You would think he would be used to it by now.

"Yeah, it's fine," he nodded. "You look as tired as I feel," he teased. Though Kaminari's smile was as bright as usual, it was hard to ignore the bags under his eyes. The blonde sat up, chuckling with the intention of laughing it off, but Shinso noticed the way he nervously rubbed his arm, as though someone had punched him there.

"Ah, you got me," he joked. "Didn't sleep well last night. Stayed up pretty late trying to catch up on this homework." Shinso rolled his eyes but the edges of this lips turned up a bit in amusement. "Didn't want all your hard work to go to waste, you know?" Kaminari teased with a wink. Shinso actually cracked a smile at that, flushing slightly as he shook his head.

"Where are we going this weekend," Shinso asked, changing the subject. "And what day were you guys thinking?"

"Kirishima and I were talking about catching a movie at the mall on Saturday," Kaminari explained happily. "We were figuring we could..." Kaminari trailed off, not finishing the sentence. Shinso sat for a second, staring at his friend and waiting for him to continue. Instead of talking, Kaminari sat there for a few seconds, just smiling and blinking. Confused and a little worried, Shinso opened his mouth to say something, but Kaminari continued. "If we get lunch before the movie we won't have to waste money on the snacks."

"That seems like a good idea," Shinso said as he eyed his friend. He thought about asking him if he was alright, but Kaminari was known for being a bit of a space cadet. Maybe he just zoned out for a second. Instead of asking, Shinso let it go. "What movie were you guys thinking?" he asked instead.

"You know, the one-"

"Kaminari!" Iida interrupted, startling them both. "You need to be in your own seat! Class is about to begin and you're taking up your classmate's seat!"

"Better go before he blows a gasket," Kaminari joked as he stood. Shinso watched his friend walk away. Kaminari looked over his shoulder to smile at him but stumbled, tripping over something. It was probably his own two feet and Shinso had a small chuckle at that. Jiro teased the blonde for his clumsiness and Kaminari just laughed it off instead of denying it like he usually did. He must have really been tired to not argue back with Jiro.

Shinso would be lying if he said he wasn't worried about his friend. If it had just been the brief zoning out before homeroom, he wouldn't have thought twice about it, but the weird behavior didn't stop there. When they were dismissed for lunch, Shinso had hung back to ask the teacher a few questions on the material. The rest of the group went on with out him after he agreed to join them in the cafeteria. When he got there, he had intended to jump in a line to grab some lunch, but as he stepped into the large room, he spotted Kaminari, just standing there, zoning out again as other students rushed past. It almost looked like he was looking at the options.

Almost.

"Kaminari?" Shinso asked gently, tapping him on the arm a bit to catch his attention. When Kaminari didn't acknowledge him, he grew more worried. "Kaminari? Hey," he tried to say.

"Hm?" Kaminari hummed as he faced him, eyebrows raised ever so slightly as he snapped out of whatever trance he was in. His tired face lit up in a smile. "Hey, man! What's up?"

"You ok?" Shinso asked, looking him over for any sign of injury. He didn't see any bruises. Was it a concussion? How would that have happened?

"Yeah, why?" Kaminari assured, looking genuinely confused. Shinso almost pushed, but maybe he was over thinking it.

"Nothing," Shinso dismissed, "Nevermind."

"Alright," Kaminari shrugged before tugging him in the direction of a line. "Let's grab something. I'm starving, dude!"

Shinso had let him tug him towards food and kept his concerns to himself. If something was wrong, surely Kaminari would say something. While he kept quiet about it, he kept a watchful eye over the blonde, trying to see if he did it again. He promised himself he would speak up if it happened again. Dozing off or zoning out when tired wasn't unusual, hell, even Shinso had dealt with it from time to time, but this seemed different. Throughout lunch, Kaminari seemed relatively fine, slower on the uptake (more so than usual) and tired, but fine. When they returned to class, he seemed fine, paying attention in class as well as he usually did. This typically consised of taking notes until he found more amusement in doodling. He seemed his bright sunshiney self as they walked to the lockers and goofed off with the guys as they all changed. Even as they got their training assignment from Aizawa and split into their assigned teams, there was no indication anything was wrong. Even as Shinso and Kaminari ran off to their assigned area for the exercise, nothing was wrong.

So Shinso started to relax. The two ran through the exercise quickly and without incident. Shinso found Kaminari was one of the people he enjoyed working with. He was bold but not overly reckless. He wasn't afraid to charge in, but didn't take unnecessary risk. They were quick and relatively effecient and when they completed their first round with ease, Kaminari whooped and offered another high five. Shinso was more than happy to give a small smile and return the high five.

"Alright, you two, back to your starting points," Aizawa instructed. The two spun on their heels and walked away with Kaminari chatting happily. It was a simple exercise in one of the fake portions of the city the school had for hero training. Two teams were sent to opposite ends and a distress signal was sent. At that point it was a race to get there first while two other teams tried to stop them.

"We rock at this, dude!" Kaminari cheered as they walked down the fake street, patting Shinso on the shoulder. Shinso lowered his mask, letting it rest around his neck while he gave his friend a tired smile.

"Let's see how we fare this next round," Shinso suggested as they turned down the corner. "That way we'll know it's not just beginner's luck."

"Fair enough," Kaminari shrugged. "But I got a really good feeling we're gonna win again."

"I dunno," Shinso said, "Now they know what to expect and they already know what our quirks do. We don't really have the element of surprise anymore. By the way, how's your quirk? Not at your limit yet, are you?"

"Yeah, you've got a point," Kaminari said, and Shinso couldn't help but feel like the answer didn't really match his question. "Guess that means we'll have to..." For the second time that day, Kaminari trailed off mid-sentence. Shinso stopped walking and turned to look at his friend. Kaminari had stopped walking as well and his eyes were unfocused, staring off as though he was miles away. Shinso felt his stomach tighten with worry. He reached out a hand to try and snap him out of it, but instead, Kaminari fell forward.

"Kaminari!" Shinso shouted in alarm as he caught him, but as the blonde boy fell against him, Kaminari began to shake. Shinso dropped to his knees, calling out to his friend. "Kaminari! Denki!" he shouted worriedly at his friend as he lay him on the ground, panic seizing him. What the fuck was this? What was wrong? What does he do? What was happening? For a moment he could only stare in horror. His friend was laying on the ground, convulsing violently. So, he did what any scared student would do and called for his teacher. "Mr. Aizawa!" he shouted as loudly as he could. He pressed the button on his radio, remembering he had it. "Mr. Aizawa! Something's wrong!"

"What' going on?" his teacher spoke, calmly but firmly. Shinso felt his throat tightening as tears burned his eyes. He watched as his friend continued to shake, smacking his head against the pavement. He stuck his hand under the boy's head to try and cushion it. "Shinso?" he asked after not getting a response.

"I don't know!" Shinso told him, "It's Kaminari. He just fell and he's shaking and I don't-"

"I'm on my way," he assured, "Stay with him. I'll be right there." Shinso sat there, watching his friend shake as his head slammed against his hand. A tear managed to escape and he couldn't be bothered to wipe it away. Kaminari was frothing at the mouth, drool falling from the corner of his mouth. What the hell was wrong with him? Shinso was terrified for his friend. What caused this? What happened? Was he going to be ok? He couldn't think, he couldn't breathe. All he could do was sit and watch and wait.

"I'm here, Denki," he told him quietly, trying to swallow down his fear. He didn't know if Kaminari could hear him, but if it was anything like he's former foster parent's quirk, maybe talking to him could calm him down. "It's gonna be ok. Aizawa's on his way," he assured as his friend continued to shake violently. "Just hang in there." To Shinso's relief, Aizawa had managed to meet them quickly. He rounded the corner and ran over to the two. He looked up at his teacher, at his foster parent, with fear and desperation in his wide eyes.

"Here," Aizawa said as he shoved his binding cloth into his foster child's hands. "Put this under his head," he instructed. Shinso swapped the mass of fabric for his hand and the sickening smacks turned to soft thuds. It didn't make him feel any better.

"What the hell is this?" Shinso asked, his voice hoarse. "How do you stop it? What do we do? I don't-"

"Take a breath," Aizawa instructed calmly. He waited until he saw Shinso breathe in deep before he explained. "He's having a seizure. I've already called Recovery Girl. Once he wakes up, we can take him to the infirmary. Do you have your phone?"

"No," Shinso shook his head and Aizawa pulled out his.

"How long has he been like this?" his teacher asked as he started the timer. Shinso couldn't think, much less gauge time right now.

"I don't.." he wracked his brain, trying to think. "He just started when I called you." Shinso found himself swallowing and struggling to breathe. "Is he gonna be alright?" Shinso asked quietly.

"He's probably going to be tired and sore for a bit," Aizawa told him honestly, "And he's going to be out of it for a few days, but he should be fine."

"What if he's not?" Shinso asked. Aizawa looked at his foster child for a moment before placing a hand on his shoulder.

"He's going to be ok," he assured. Shinso was too scared to believe it. He'd believe it when he saw it. His purple eyes turned back to his shaking friend. Aizawa was crouching, a hand on Kaminari's hip to keep him balanced on his side. Shinso wasn't sure how long it had been, but it felt like he had been seizing for hours before Kaminari's convulsions started to ease.

"Oh, shit," Shinso finally let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He felt Aizawa rub his back as slowly but surely Kaminari's seizures faded out. After a few more moments, the blonde was laying on his back, still as stone.

"Ok," Aizawa said as he put one hand on Kaminari's hip and the other on his shoulder. "I'm going to roll him into the recovery position, this way if he vomits, he won't choke." Shinso watched as he put his friend in the position and Shinso couldn't help but think Kaminari looked like he was sleeping. "He's going to be confused coming out of it, so be prepared for him to not make sense or be scared."

"Right," Shinso nodded as they watched over him. His heart was racing, beating so hard he thought it would burst from his chest. Aizawa began removing the teen's visor and the gear on his arm, readying Kaminari to be helped to the nurse's office. "What happened? Why did this happen?" Shinso asked.

"Sometimes they just happen," Aizawa explained, "sometimes there's not even any warning. Was he spacing out a lot today? Any abnormal twitching or confusion?"

"Yeah," Shinso nodded, "he would stop talking in the middle of sentences. He did that earlier. At lunch I found him just kinda standing and staring at something. It seemed like he didn't hear me."

"Hn," Kaminari grunted and Shinso sucked in a deep breath. "Wha's..."

"Stay still, Kaminari," Aizawa instructed, keeping a hand on his shoulder. "You've had a seizure."

"Nah," he slurred as he tried to push himself up. "Ahm, ok,"

"Kaminari, I need you to stay still," Aizawa instructed, his tone calm. "You've had a seizure and you hit your head."

"Oh," the blonde said as he lay back down. "I'm ok," he tried to assure.

"We know," Aizawa told him before looking to Shinso, "Talk to him, ask him some questions. He's going to take a while to come around. Once he's a little better we'll get him out of here."

"Ok," Shinso said before turning back to his friend. "Kaminari?" he asked, hesitating. "Do you, uh, does anything hurt?" Kaminari lay there, his eyes half lidded. For a moment, Shinso feared the boy was going to seize again.

"Bit mah tongue," the blonde mumbled, letting it loll out of his mouth a bit and Shinso couldn't help but chuckle at the oddity of it. "Mah cheek."

"Do you know where you are?" Aizawa asked gently. Kaminari blinked a bit before scrunching his eyes shut in thought.

"School," he answered, "Hey, sorry," he apologized after realizing who he was talking to. "I'm ok, this was my fault. I'm ok." He tried to sit up again and Aizawa let him, keeping a hand on his back to keep him upright.

"Can you tell me what happened?" Aizawa asked. Kaminari looked around, a blank look on his face as his head bobbed.

"Kaminari?" Shinso asked, touching his back gently.

"I dunno," he answered honestly, "Did I have a seizure?" He looked between Shinso and Aizawa, his head bobbing as though he were falling asleep. If he looked tired before, he looked exhausted now, like any moment now and he'd pass out. Shinso glanced to his teacher for guidance but Aizawa just nodded, encouraging him to talk.

"Yes," Shinso confirmed and Kaminari frowned.

"Gross," he mumbled. "Did we win?" Shinso cracked a smile, trying to seem calmer than he really was. He shook his head.

"Not this time," he told his friend, figuring any elaborations would just confuse him further. Kaminari's frown worsened.

"Bummer."

Chapter Text

The plastic chair was the most comfortable thing to sit in, but he was grateful for it. He sat slouched, one leg bouncing as he chewed on his fingers, purple eyes pinned to his friend. Kaminari lay on the bed, fading in and out of awareness. Shinso’s eyes burned from the earlier tears and he didn’t doubt they had a red tint to them.

It was quiet in nurse’s office and very still. The sun was dipping lower in the sky, telling him the school day was coming to a close, and Kaminari hardly seemed better. Sure, he wasn’t seizing anymore, but he still didn’t seem to understand what was going on.

“Hn,” the blonde grunted as he rolled his head. Shinso sat up, more alert. Kaminari rolled his head in his direction, his yellow eyes seeming to struggle with focusing. Nevertheless, a lazy grin spread across his face and Kaminari weakly tried to point at him. “Purple,” he said. Shinso felt the corner of his lips quirk up and stood, walking over to his friend. As he neared, Kaminari stopped pointing and instead reached out, as though wanting to grab onto something. Shinso wasn’t sure what he wanted but when he got close enough, Kaminari grabbed onto his shirt. “Hey, purple.”

“Hey, Kaminari,” Shinso said quietly, letting himself smile a bit. He removed Kaminari’s hand from his shirt, intending to rest it on Kaminari’s stomach, but his friend gripped his hand tighter, not letting go. Shinso felt his cheeks heat up and hoped he wasn’t blushing too noticeably.

“Hey, Shinso,” Kaminari said, locking their hands together, “what’re you doin’ here?” he asked.

“Came to check on you,” he said, clearing his throat and trying to collect himself.

“Aw, that’s sweet,” Kaminari said, making Shinso blush a little more. Before he could say anything in response, the door behind them opened Shinso panicked, trying to get Kaminari to let go of his hand, but the blonde held on tight, dopey grin still on his face as though he didn’t have a care in the world.

“I see you’re up,” Aizawa’s voice came from behind them, making Shinso’s panic grow as he continued to struggle to get Kaminari to let go. He could hear the man getting closer and with a sigh, he gave up. Aizawa didn’t say anything about the blush that had take over his foster child’s face, but he did let a small smirk play at his lips, thoroughly amused at how distressed the boy was at being caught holding hands. “How are you feeling?” he asked Kaminari.

“Good,” he said, giving a thumbs up. “I’m good. I can go,” he said as he tried to sit up. Shinso stopped him.

“Your parents are on their way,” Aizawa explained, “Stay there until they come and get you.”

“What about class?” Kaminari whined.

“Class is over,” Aizawa told him, watching a look of disappointment take over the smile. “Speaking of,” he said, turning to Shinso, “Go on home while it’s still light out.” Shinso glanced at Kaminari before looking to Aizawa again. He figured Kaminari was still out of it enough for him to risk it.

“Are you not coming?” he asked. Aizawa quirked an eyebrow before letting the corners of his mouth turn upwards into an almost undetectable smile.

“Not yet,” he said, “I’m staying until his parents collect him. I won’t be long,” he assured. “Hizashi should be home by now. I don’t think he stayed late tonight.”

“Right,” Shinso said. He wanted to be home before dark, safe in the warm apartment where food was probably waiting. But he didn’t want to leave his friend. Would he really be ok? Was everyone just saying that so he wouldn’t worry? He wanted to stay. Aizawa seemed to understand his hesitation and spoke again.

“Shinso,” he said, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “He’s going to be fine.”

“How do you know?” Shinso dared to ask.

“This isn’t the first time it’s happened to him, and it probably won’t be the last.” Shinso’s eyes widened in horror at the words. “It’s caused by his quirk. The electricity he generates sometimes disrupts the electrical signals in his brain. It is very similar to epilepsy. Are you familiar with it?”

“No,” Shinso admitted, shaking his head.

“Epilepsy is a disorder that causes seizures,” he explained. “Not much is known about it and there is no cure, but it is treatable and depending on the severity, it can be managed. Kaminari doesn’t have epilepsy, but it responds to treatment very similarly. There are certain things that put him at a higher risk. From what you told me earlier, it seems sleep is important for him to manage it. My guess is he forgot his medicine this morning. That, coupled with the lack of sleep put him at a higher risk of a seizure. Him using his quirk is probably what triggered it.”

“So, this can be prevented?” Shinso asked, feeling a little relieved.

“Yes,” Aizawa assured him. “There’s no guarantee that he’ll never seize again, but the medicine helps.” Silence fell between the two and Shinso turned his attention back to his friend. He wondered if Kaminari was ever afraid of having a seizure. Was he in pain? Did he know if one was going to happen? Are there signs? He had so many questions running through his head but Aizawa squeezed his shoulder, pulling him back out of his thoughts. “Go home, Shinso. He’s going to be fine.”

“Yeah,” Kaminari told him confidently as he sat up, swaying. “Yeah, we gotta go home,” he said.

“You’re not going anywhere, yet,” Aizawa told him, stopping him from standing up. “Your parents are on their way.”

“What?” the blonde whined as he continued to sway before plopping back down on the pillow. “We were gonna walk home together.” Shinso noticed the small smirk on his teacher’s face and flushed a bit.

“We can walk home some other time,” he assured. Kaminari just beamed at him and gave him a thumbs up. Shinso stepped back and made his way to the door. “I guess I’ll see you at home?”

“Yes, I won’t be long.”

Shinso walked through the now empty school, letting himself take note of the quietness. Even though it was a little eerie, he wasn’t uncomfortable. It was kinda nice. He could get lost in his thoughts with no interruptions. As he changed and grabbed his stuff to go home, he let his mind fill with questions once more. He popped his earbuds in and pressed play on one of his playlists. Shinso threw his bag over his shoulder and walked out the door.

He walked down the street, his mind miles away as the sun continued to set. He didn’t really hear the music being played. Shinso really could only think about what he witnessed. He kept seeing Kaminari’s dazed look, feeling the terror strike him as his friend fell and seized. Shinso had been terrified and even knowing what happened and why didn’t make him feel any better. He wondered if Kaminari’s zoning out was a sign of a seizure on the way. Shinso made a mental note to watch out for that in the future.

A few blocks away from the school now, he stood at a crosswalk, waiting for the appropriate traffic signal. There were a few people out and about but the sidewalks were fairly empty. The sun was dipping even lower, casting long shadows about the city. Shinso wondered if it had actually set yet. He turned his purple gaze to the sky as he waited, taking in his surroundings while he had a moment. Music thrummed in his ears, covering the hum of the city. His gaze dropped from the sky to the tall sky scrapers, trailing down, down, down to the people on the sidewalk parallel to his. Shinso’s stare landed on one particular individual who stared back.

Panic struck him for the second time that day and he couldn’t have sworn his heart actually stopped for a moment. Staring right back at him was the man he had escaped from, the one man that managed to make Shinso genuinely fear him, the one man he could never defend himself from.

Shinso’s former foster father stared at him from across the street, his face a blank mask that Shinso knew hid rage. He had been deceived many times before by that calm façade and he wasn’t going to fall for it now. He knew exactly what he was looking at and he knew the man recognized him as well.

The lights changed and Shinso was given the signal to walk. He should run home and lock himself in his safe apartment, tell Present Mic what happened and trust his new foster dads to keep him safe.

But home was too far away.

Shinso turned and ran back towards the school. His heart raced as he ran as fast as he could, skirting around startled adults who looked at him in annoyance and confusion. He didn’t care what they thought, he needed to get out of there. Shinso didn’t look behind to see if the man was following, he didn’t want to know. As his shoes slapped the pavement, his lungs started to burn. He was still recovering from the bronchitis and he prayed to whoever was out there that Aizawa hadn’t left the school yet, that he could still even get into the school.

His mind raced with “What if?”s and he felt himself panicking. What if everyone was gone? What if Aizawa had left and taken a cab home? What if he was locked out of the school? What if the man grabbed him? Shinso continued to panic as he turned a corner and let out a startled cry as he crashed into someone. Firm, steadying hands gently gripped his upper arms and he looked up into the face of his teacher, his protector, his foster dad.

“Shinso?” Aizawa asked, confused and worried by his ward’s terrified expression. Shinso, in an impulse of sheer relief, stepped closer and smashed his face into the man’s chest, wrapping his arms around him tight enough to make the man let out a quiet oof. He clung to his teacher embarrassingly tight, be he was too scared to be embarrassed. Aizawa was confused, but didn’t push him away. He wrapped an arm loosely around the boy and rubbed his back. He could feel him shaking and his worry grew. “Shinso, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“It’s nothing,” the boy lied as he stepped away, rubbing his face, trying to rid any evidence of tears. “Sorry.”

“It doesn’t seem like nothing,” Aizawa pointed out as he watched the boy. Shinso still seemed on edge, his purple eyes darting everywhere as though he was looking for someone. Aizawa didn’t need to guess who.

“Are you heading home?” Shinso asked, still looking around.

“Yeah,” Aizawa nodded, “Did you want to walk with me?” Shinso finally looked back at his teacher and nodded.

“Yes, please.”

Chapter Text

Hizashi watched from his spot at the kitchen table as Shinso reappeared in the hall for the third time, heading towards the door. He heard the door to his bedroom open and his quiet but hurried footsteps down the hall until he appeared in his line of sight before quickly continuing down the hall and out of sight. They heard pressure on the door, no doubt him looking through the peephole before the sound of the lock echoed quietly. The metalic shink and click of it being locked and unlocked made a worried sigh escape his nose.

Shinso hurried back down the hall to his room, the door shutting quietly behind him. Hizashi didn't miss the tenseness in the boy's face and the strained look in his eyes, like he was trying to swallow something unpleasant.

"He hasn't said anything?" Hizashi asked quietly as Aizawa continued to eat his dinner, chewing slowly. Hizashi's husband shook his head slowly.

"No," he said. "Not since I bumped into him."

"I mean, he at least declined dinner," Hizashi said, "but he hasn't even hinted at anything?"

"He was in a panic when I found him," Aizawa explained. "He kept looking for someone, even as we walked. He was checking behind us constantly, even jumping at loud noises. Something's got him on edge. I have a feeling I know what happened, but nothing concrete."

"You think he saw one of his foster parents," Hizashi concluded quickly, confirmed by Aizawa's nod. He leaned back in his seat, staring at his husband, his own face going hard. They're following him. They're stalking him. They're hunting him. Silence fell over them, heavy and thick. Hizashi was tense, ready to jump into action and he knew his husband had the same feeling. Anyone who didn't know him would take Aizawa's disposition as uncaring, dismissive, too relaxed.

Hizashi knew better.

He could see the subtle tension in his husband's shoulders. He was eating still, but the bites were small, almost insignificant. Aizawa was quiet, quieter than usual, and his relaxed, tired expression was gone, his hero mask sliding into place. They weren't expecting the man to burst through the door, and they weren't ready for a fight, but after what they've heard about the man, they knew something had to be done.

"He walks home with friends," Aizawa explained. "Kaminari passes here to get home."

"We can't put this on the kids to keep him safe," Hizashi argued quietly.

"I'm not," Aizawa corrected, still taking small bites. "There's safety in numbers. If he's smart, he won't approach unless Shinso's alone. Too many witnesses, variables, and risks." He paused thinking about the man's quirk. "Even if he could get some of them, there's enough of them who can intervene. Besides, this class has a reputation of not exactly following the rules, especially if it's to protect their own."

"Shota, what happens if something goes wrong?" Hizashi hissed, leaning forward so he could keep his voice quiet. "What if we're wrong? What if he's not smart enough to stay away, but smart enough to catch them off guard?" He thought about it, if he had a quirk like that. How would he do it? "If I had his quirk, I'd find out the group's quirks, know which ones are mid to long distance and take them out first. He already knows Shinso's quirk and it isn't exactly hard to figure out the rest thanks to the UA Games."

"I know," Aizawa said, "but we can't escort him everywhere. I don't want him to feel safe without feeling restricted. How do you think it would affect him if we had to walk him home every night?" Hizashi leaned back, worrying his lip. "I'm going to be informing the police, of course. Want to see if we can have an officer or the local hero agency change their patrol times."

"I mean," Hizashi sighed, "that's not a bad idea."

"We can't do anything about him following Shinso," Aizawa said, "but we can try to discourage it."

"Don't worry about it," Shinso said as he stepped around the corner, leaving the dark hall and stepping into the light, startling both heroes. Aizawa turned to him, mildly impressed by his quietness. "I can handle it."

"That's not for you to decide," Hizashi told him calmly, eerily serious as Aizawa returned to his food. It unnerved Shinso. He had expected something like that from the ever serious Aizawa, not the loud and cheery Present Mic. "When you agreed to stay with us, to let us be your foster parents, your safety became our number one priority." Then, to the adults' surprise, Shinso crossed his arms.

And rolled his eyes.

"I'm not a child," he scoffed, "I can handle it."

"The hole you're pacing into the floor begs to differ," Hizashi pointed out, earning an embarrassed flush from the teen. Hizashi softened his tone after taking a breath. "What I'm trying to say is: you don't have to handle it. That's our responsibility. Let us worry about it."

"I'm telling you, I can deal with it," he insisted, sounding more frustrated, "would you two just butt out? I'm not just some defenseless kid, you know."

"Hate to break it to you, but you are a kid," Hizashi told him, trying not to get too defensive, making a point to not cross his arms, instead letting them rest on the table, hands clasped together. Aizawa sat silent, listening to the two go back and forth, just listening. He wanted to see how their first argument would play out. How comfortable did Shinso feel in pushing the boundaries, in trying to assert himself. And how would Hizashi respond? Aizawa sat there, ready to intervene if needed, like a referee, making sure nothing was below the belt. It was good for Shinso to air his grievances, state his opinion, and have reasonable and patient pushback. "This isn't something you're equipped to handle, even with the hero trainings. No one in your class knows how to handle situations like this without brute force and that's not the best course."

"I think I know exactly how to handle it," Shinso said pointedly, "I've handled it fine before you two butted in." The bitterness in his tone was not something either were used to and the two adults shared a look. Proceed with caution.

"Shinso," Aizawa warned, making the boy flinch a bit.

"What?" the boy hissed, shoulders scrunching. "Am I wrong? I survived, didn't I? I kept my grades up. I kept up with trainings, even the after school shit you threw at me. I was fine before and I'll be fine on my own now!"

"I wouldn't call catching bronchitis being fine," Hizashi pointed out calmly, his face softening. He recognized what Shinso was doing. He was trying to be brave, to not have to depend on anyone. It's a response to the threat. He didn't feel safe. Hizashi recognized they could swear up and down they'd keep him safe, but he (understandably) wouldn't believe it until he saw it. This was a situation where actions spoke louder than words. "Let's put a pin in this conversation. Nothing needs to be done right now. I can heat you up some food if you want."

"I'm not hungry," Shinso insisted firmly and Hizashi sighed through his nose, pressing his lips in a thin line. Worried.

"Can you tell us what you need right now?" he asked. "Is there something we can do to help you feel safer here?" Aizawa quirked his eyebrows, catching on to what Hizashi was trying. He tried diverting the conversation elsewhere and it didn't work. Now he was trying to give Shinso options, giving him the opportunity to have a say in how this moves forward to an extent. Giving him a sense of control over his own life.

"I need you to mind your business!" He snapped, starting to raise his voice.

"Shinso," Aizawa warned again, tone a little firmer before he took a sip of his coffee.

"No!" Shinso shouted. "I'm telling you what I need but you're not listening!"

"Because that's not a realistic option," Hizashi explained calmly. "If we do nothing and something happens..." Hizashi couldn't finish that sentence. "Shinso, we want to help you."

"Right, like throwing my classmates under the bus?" Shinso accused, "You're gonna put this shit on them even though you KNOW! YOU KNOW WHAT HE CAN DO!"

"Shin-" Hizashi froze. His sentence was never finished, his voice cutting off halfway through Shinso's name. Aizawa looked up from his plate as his husband, confusion shifting to a mix of intensity and alarm. His husband sat before him, face blank and limp in his chair. He recognized it immediately. Aizawa rose quickly from his seat and turned to his foster child, astonished he would use his quirk against one of them. But when he turned to Shinso, he paused. Shinso stood there, looking even more surprised than Aizawa and horrified at his actions. He couldn't do anything but watch that horror grow on the teen's face that was growing paler and paler by the minute.

"Shinso, let him go," Aizawa instructed calmly. The boy continued to stand there, frozen as though stuck under his own quirk. The only movement was his mouth, opening and closing as though he was trying to find something to say. "Shinso," he said, trying to get the kid's attention. When he gave no indication of hearing him, Aizawa activated his own quirk, his hair standing up and eyes straining. He heard Hizashi shift in his seat and turned back to his husband. "Are you alright?" he asked. Hizashi shook his head as though ridding himself of a strange thought before looking up at Aizawa, blinking in confusion.

"Of course," he answered. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"I'm sorry," a horrified whisper echoed through the room, no louder than a breath. The two looked at Shinso's pale, pale face, purple eyes wide with panic. Aizawa saw a small drop of blood creeping down from his nose, trailing towards his lip. Shinso took a shaky step back, his hands slowly moving towards his face. "I didn't- I wouldn't- I-" he covered his mouth as he stepped back, his eyes unfocused. His back gently bumped against the wall and he slid down it, hands over his mouth and knees bent in front of him. Shinso was staring at something and nothing at the same time.

"Did he..." Hizashi asked quietly.

"Yeah," Aizawa nodded, still looking at the kid as he deactivated his own quirk, his long black hair flopping back down around his shoulders. "I don't think he meant to."

"I figured," Hizashi said, a small smile playing at his lips. "Though if he made me do something silly as revenge, I'd totally understand." Aizawa tried not to smile at that, knowing Hizashi would have been an absolute menace if he had Shinso's quirk. But right now, he was more focused on the kid on their floor that looked like he was about to have a nervous breakdown.

"Shinso?" he called gently. "You alright?" he asked. As suspected, he didn't get a response. He stepped closer, keeping his movements slow. Hizashi rose remained seated, not wanting to crowd the kid. "Shinso, you're alright," Aizawa assured, not even sure he could hear him. "We know it was an accident." He stood next to him before slowly crouching. Slowly, he reached out and tapped the boy's shoulder, testing how touch would register. Shinso's flinch was almost unnoticeable but he made no other movement. Aizawa let his hand rest on his shoulder. "Shinso, you're alright," he assured. "We're not mad. You're not in trouble."

Hizashi took this as a chance to stand. He slowly and carefully moved across the room, joining them on the floor and sitting in front of Shinso, waving slowly to catch his attention. The boy's purple eyes finally focused and flicked to his blonde teacher's face. Hizashi smiled brightly.

"There you are," he said. "You had us worried for a moment. You look like you've seen a ghost." Slowly, Shinso lowered his hands, eyes flicking between Aizawa and Hizashi.

"I didn't..." he trailed off.

"You're good, little listener," Hizashi told him wiggling his fingers at him to show he was alright. "No harm, no foul."

"I'm sorry," he whispered from behind his hands, tears beginning to swell. "I'm sorry," he repeated, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead to his knees. Aizawa's hand slid from his shoulder to the kid's upper back, rubbing it gently.

"It's alright," Aizawa assured, "it happens. We all lose control or slip up every once in a while."

"I just..." he tried to suck in a deep breath, trying to stay calm. He bit his lip. He didn't want to admit it. He didn't want to admit he was scared. He had been doing so well, moving on with his life. But now he felt like he was back at square one. He was scared. "I'm tired," he exhaled quietly.

"You've had a crazy day," Hizashi reminded him. "Your friend had a seizure right in front of you. Then you saw the guy that's terrorized you for who knows how long. You're allowed to be tired, man. You're allowed to be scared." Shinso slowly lifted his head, expression warry as though expecting to be tricked. Hizashi just smiled at him. "Ya dig?" Shinso's lips threatened to twitch up into a small smirk.

"I dig," he nodded.

"Great!" Hizashi announced as he rose to his feet quickly, startling both Aizawa and Shinso. He stuck his hands out to the kid, offering to help him up. "Come on, little man, let's get some food in ya so we can bust out desert." Shinso sniffled but let himself smile a bit at that. He still felt vulnerable, weak, but he wanted to trust them. He reached out his hands, trusting Hizashi to pull him up from the floor.

Hizashi took his hands, and with Aizawa's supportive hand on Shinso's back, they lifted him off the floor.

Of course Hizashi trapped him in a hug first. Shinso rolled his eyes for the second time that night, but as he tightened his embrace around the tall, lanky man, he couldn't help but smile.

Chapter Text

“Why don’t you want us to worry about you?” Aizawa asked, breaking the silence. Shinso turned his head to him, tearing his gaze away from the people rushing past.

“Hu?” he asked, not understanding the question. Aizawa kept his gaze straight ahead, watching for the crosswalk light to turn.

“Last night,” he said. “You insisted you didn’t need our help.” Shinso thought about it. He wasn’t so sure as to why he was resisting it, resisting their help.

“I don’t know,” he admitted with a shrug as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess I’m just not used to it, is all.” Aizawa hummed and the light changed. The two stepped off the curb and continued across the street, silence between them with the noise of the city around them. Shinso’s grip on his bag tightened. It was heavier than usual, weighed down by the weight of a second set of notebooks and textbooks.

“I don’t think it’s that,” Aizawa said as they reached the sidewalk. “I’ve seen how you react to things that you aren’t used to before. You seem thrown off or startled. This was different.”

“Because I shouted?” Shinso asked, guilt from the night curdling his stomach.

“No,” Aizawa surprised him. “It’s because you resisted. You didn’t just turn down the offer, you pushed us away. Even in your most vulnerable states, even when you were confused and scared and unsure of what was going to happen to you, you haven’t pushed back like that before.” Guilt continued to well in him as the words fell on his ears. “When you won’t even acknowledge something’s wrong, that a problem.”

“Sorry,” the apology stumbled from his mouth without him even thinking.

“Not your fault,” Aizawa said, surprising Shinso once more.

“Wait,” he paused. “You just said-“

“I said it was a problem,” Aizawa reiterated. “I never said you caused it.”

“Oh,” Shinso said as they continued walking. “Where do we go from here?”

“It should just be around the corner,” Aizawa said, making Shinso’s lips quirk in an amused smile for a brief moment.

“No, I mean,” he shifted his bag on his shoulder, “with me. With this problem. What do we do about it?”

“Don’t know,” Aizawa admitted so freely Shinso had to stop walking, staring at his teacher. Aizawa, noticing he was no longer beside him, stopped and turned with a quirked brow. “We don’t always have the answer, kid. But we’ll work it out. As a family.”

“As a family,” Shinso huffed.

“Is there a problem with that?” Aizawa tested, his voice as relaxed as ever.

“No,” Shinso said with a small smile. “Not at all.”

“Good,” Aizawa nodded before jerking his thumb towards the building. “This is it. You sure you got everything?”

“Yes,” Shinso said, turning and heading up the path. “Are you sure you don’t want to come, too?”

“I’ll be here,” Aizawa assured, sensing the kid’s hesitation to be alone. He gave a small smile. “I don’t think Kaminari would be happy to see me handing over his homework.”

“No,” Shinso gave a small snort through his nose, “I guess not. I won’t be long.”

“There’s no rush,” Aizawa assured. Shinso turned and continued up the walk. He could feel Aizawa’s eyes on him and his skin wanted to crawl. Whenever Kaminari came up in conversation (which had been more frequent as of late) something would creep into Aizawa’s tone that made Shinso wary.

Shinso wasn’t exactly out.

In the back of his mind, he had a vague memory of saying something about it when he was sick. The problem was he didn’t know if he actually said it out loud or if it was just a fever dream. And you can’t really ask “Hey, did I come out to you?” While Aizawa and Hizashi were clearly gay, Shinso had some reservations about saying anything.

Maybe he was just worried about the assumptions. As he walked up the steps, Shinso realized that was definitely it, or at least part of it. He didn’t want anyone to assume he liked Kaminari. Even worse, he didn’t want anyone to assume Kaminari was gay. Because while yes, he did like Kaminari, his friend isn’t gay.

Shinso grimaced at the thought of Kaminari finding out.

He shook himself out of his thoughts and knocked on the door, his grip tightening painfully on the bag. He could hear slow footsteps approaching the door; thump, thump, thump. His heart seemed to match the pace; thump, thump, thump. Shinso didn’t know what to expect, what lay behind that door. His head swam with nightmare after nightmare. He held his breath with dread until before him was a very calm, very healthy looking Kaminari, whose only signal of distress was raised eyebrows.

“Oh hey, Shinso,” Kaminari smiled before leaning against the doorframe. “Hey, how’s it going?”

“Hi, Kaminari,” Shinso greeted gently as though his words would inflict damage. His purple eyes glanced over him, looking for any sign of injury or pain. “How are you feeling?”

“Hm?” he hummed, smile still in place as he waved his hand dismissively. “Ah, this happens all the time. No sweat, dude.”

“That…” Shinso hesitated for a moment but decided honesty was best. “That didn’t really answer my question.”

“What were you asking?” Kaminari said bashfully.

“How are you feeling?” Shinso asked again.

“Tired,” Kaminari admitted without hesitation. “Definitely tired, man. Sore as hell. I had a seizure, so I’m kinda out of it.”

“I know,” Shinso nodded, “I was there…when it happened.” Kaminari grimaced at that. For the first time since he knew him, Shinso watched as embarrassment and shame contorted Kaminari’s face.

“Was it bad?” he asked quietly. Shinso almost said “yes, it was horrifying,” but thought better of it. It was his first seizure he’d ever seen. Hell, he hadn’t even known what was going on at the time. For all he knew, it was a mild one.

“I mean,” he said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve never seen one before.” Shinso looked away and cleared his throat. “I, uh, didn’t really know what to do and I sorta panicked.”

“It’s ok,” Kaminari assured with a small smile, “not a lot of people do. Just kinda embarrassed you had to see that.”

“I don’t mind,” Shinso shot out a little too quickly, startling both of them. He could feel a pesky warmth creeping up his neck as the two stared at each other, just blinking. “It’s fine,” he tried to correct, looking away and instead down at his bag. He cleared his throat again as he opened it. “I, uh, I grabbed- shit, I think I got everything.”

“Wait,” Kaminari said, chuckling, “you came over just to give me my homework?” Shinso looked up to Kaminari’s teasing smile as the blonde just stood in his doorway, leaned against the frame. It was so casual, so natural. You wouldn’t know anything was wrong. “I expected something like this from Iida. Did you at least sneak me a few comics?”

Shinso froze at that, his mind jumping back to a conversation so painfully familiar. It must have only been a few weeks ago and his feverish memory was so hazy, but he remembered it.

Then, for the first time in too long, Shinso laughed.

Kaminari was visibly startled by the sound, having never heard it or even heard of it. His eyes widened and mouth hung open a little in shock. His gold eyes drank in the sight. Before him, Shinso stood, head tipped back, face scrunched with amusement, chest shaking with laughter. The smile seemed to stretch ear to ear and as he struggled to contain himself, all Kaminari could do was stare.

“Sorry,” Shinso said, whipping a tear from his eye as he calmed down, “sorry, it’s just- remember when I was in the hospital?”

“Yeah,” Kaminari nodded, remembering his words.

“You said you snuck me a few comics,” Shinso said, digging out a few notebooks. “I never did get a chance to read them.”

“Aw, man!” Kaminari whined as Shinso handed him a few notebooks.

“I’ll get them back to you soon,” Shinso promised with a small smile. “There’s a list of all the assignments due this week,” he explained as Kaminari set the notebooks down on a small table by the door. A sheet of paper had fallen from one of them and he set it on top. “Mr. Aizawa said you don’t have to get them in until the end of next week.” Kaminari seemed to wince at that and Shinso assumed it was him dreading all the catch up he’d have to do. He wanted to help, not make it worse. “And if you need help, you can call me, I’m usually up pretty late these days.”

“I won’t bother you like that man,” Kaminari assured with a weak smile.

“I don’t mind,” Shinso insisted, but Kaminari continued like he hadn’t heard, embarrassment creeping across his face again as he stepped back, hand on the door.

“Besides, this isn’t the first time it’s happened,” Kaminari admitted dryly, his smile hardly a ghost of it’s usual brightness. “I doubt it’ll be the last.” Shinso’s stomach sank and he desperately scrambled for a way to cheer up his friend. He wanted to be there for him, to make this easier, just like Kaminari had done for him.

“Then I’ll help you then, too,” Shinso said, a little too earnestly as he stepped forward, placing a hand on the door as though he was afraid Kaminari would shut him out. “I don’t really understand what happened, and I don’t know how to help with that, but I can help with this.” Kaminari stared, mouth closed and eyes wide. Shinso didn’t really know what came over him, why he was being so forceful, but his friend needed him. His friend needed help. “If you need something, just call me, ok?”
Purple eyes stared into gold as silence lapsed between them. Slowly, Kaminari nodded.

“Ok,” he said. Shinso suddenly realized how close he was and that embarrassed flush crept up his neck to his ears as he stepped back.

“Ok,” Shinso said as he closed his bag. “I uh, I’ll see you at school when you get back.”

“Hey, wait-“ Kaminari tried to say but Shinso stepped back.

“I don’t know how long you’ll be out, but I hope you feel better soon,” Shinso said with a weak smile as his friend stared at him. He turned to leave, but Kaminari’s hand shot out, tugging at his sleeve.

“Shinso.”

The sun was starting to set and he typed a message into his phone. Hizashi had been home for a bit and started dinner. Aizawa assured his husband they would be home soon. He was looking forward to getting home, getting comfortable, resting. But at the back of his mind nagged a topic he and Hizashi dreaded. There was no getting around it, but he figured it wouldn’t exactly be easy to discuss. Just last night Shinso had lost control of his quirk. Aizawa wasn’t exactly eager to push him again.

But Shinso had to be involved in his own safety.

Footsteps storming towards him pulled his gaze up from his phone and Aizawa paused as his foster son sped walk towards him, eyes wide and glued to the ground and face tomato red.

“Shinso?” Aizawa asked, but his foster son just walked even faster, blushed even deeper, and sped past him, clearly determined to get home. “Something wrong?”

“Nothing,” came the mumbled response. Aizawa didn’t have an empath or mind-reading quirk, but he suspected something had happened.

Hizashi had been minding his own business, jazz playing on the record player in the living room, the cat finally minding her own business and not walking all over the counter. He had dinner just about ready. But the door opened a bit too forcefully and he jolted. Hizashi heard the relaxed call of his husband, but the tone didn’t match the hurried sound of footsteps speeding down the hall.

“Don’t be too long,” he said to a very odd looking Shinso as he sped past. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Kay.” Hizashi almost jumped again at the sound of Shinso’s voice cracking. For a moment, he panicked, worrying he was getting sick again. But then he saw his husband and the knowing smile that rested on his face.

“Is he alright?” Hizashi asked, still worried. Aizawa hummed dropped his bag on his chair, making his way across the room. He draped his arms around Hizashi’s middle, resting his chin on his shoulder as his husband continued to cook. “Did something happen? Is he getting sick again?”

“Nah,” Aizawa assured. “He’s alright.”

“Then why…” Hizashi trailed off as pieces clicked into place. The tension in the boy’s voice was different from last night. His face was flushed but not with fever. Had he ever heard Shinso’s voice crack? Even in the worst of his sickness? “Oh,” he said, letting Aizawa know he understood. Aizawa smiled to himself, waiting for the second realization to hit. In his arms Hizashi tensed once more, the realization finally settling in.

“OH!”

“Oh, indeed.”

Chapter Text

Shinso lay in his bed, watching the lights fade and switch colors. Hizashi had helped him pick out a few things to decorate his room, make it more his. They had gotten a strip of led lights and they were almost constantly on. The slow shifting of colors was soothing, calm. It helped him think.

A quiet mrow was his warning before the cat hopped up onto the bed, stepping her way over to him. He scratched behind her ears as she settled herself on his stomach, purring away. If he had been paying attention, he’d have heard the two men talking down the hall, but his head was in the clouds.

Kaminari kissed him.

The sentence made him flush and he covered his face with his hands. He let out a quiet groan and the cat nudged his chin with her head. She didn’t care that Shinso was dealing with an internal crisis right now, her pets had been disturbed. With a huff, Shinso pet her again.

What was he going to do? He couldn’t exactly tell the two adults. Yeah, he knew they were gay, they’d be fine with it, but he’d never really had someone to talk to about this stuff. Shinso had to find out a lot on his own and some of his searching had gotten him into a lot of trouble. He’d learned at an early age that it’s not ok for him to like boys like this. But he did. And he couldn’t talk to anyone.

“Hey, Mr. Aizawa, I have boy troubles. Help.” Yeah, that wasn’t going to go over well. Shinso let out a huff as he let it run through his head. Green turned to teal and to blue and purple. Kaminari kissed him, on the lips. He kicked himself. Shinso froze up, eyes wide as dinner plates. He was so startled he didn’t even think to kiss him back. He just stood there as Kaminari released him, staring at him in disbelief. It was like a dream. It couldn’t have been real, could it? He watched as an embarrassed blush turned Kaminari’s face red.

“Sorry,” Shinso heard himself say. “Have a good night.” Shinso stepped back.

“Shinso, wait!” Kaminari had said. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean-“

“It’s fine,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and turning away. “I’ll see you at school.”

And then he left. He just left Kaminari standing there, alone and embarrassed. Shinso had been so startled he couldn’t think. He still struggled to even believe it happened. But it did and he panicked and ran away. He groaned. Now Kaminari would hate him, he was sure of it.

“Shinso?” Hizashi called gently, knocking on the door. “Are you sure you don’t want dinner?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll eat a bit later. Have a good shift.”

“Thanks, kiddo!” Hizashi said. He listened as the man walked back down the hall. After a bit, the front door opened and closed. He continued to lay there. He picked up his phone and stared at it, debating on what to do. Should he text him? Explain why he just left like that? Should he text Jiro? Kirishima? They were gay. Midoriya was his best bet. They had an odd relationship. Midoriya was one of his closest friends. He would be able to help right? But Shinso couldn’t bring himself to do it. What if they didn’t know Kaminari liked guys? He didn’t want to out him. But he didn’t know what to do.

Pink shifted to red, then orange, then yellow. He was starting to love the color yellow. Kaminari’s yellow hair, gold eyes, bright smile. He was like a sunflower, always bright and cheery. Sometimes a little goofy and ditzy, but well meaning. But he was smart and kind, incredibly loyal to his friends. Shinso liked him. Shinso really, really liked him. And now there was a chance Kaminari liked him back. Kaminari had kissed him and he blew it!

Damnit!

“Shinso,” Aizawa’s voice called from down the hall. Shinso rolled his head towards his door, pinching his brows. The call was gentle, no rush or harshness to it and definitely Aizawa’s. He propped himself on his elbows, wondering if he had imagined it. The cat gave an indignant cry as she was forced to jump down to the floor, quickly squeezing through the cracked door, opening it further. Light from the hall slowly illuminated his room.

Shinso rose from the bed and pulled on his purple hoodie before shuffling down the hall. He stepped into the living space and found Aizawa standing at the counter, pulling two mugs from the cabinet. The cat had made herself at home on the table once more, sniffing at the stack of papers, hoping it was food. The cabinet thudded closed gently and his attention was once more brought to his teacher.

“Do you want coffee?” he asked.

“Sure,” Shinso nodded.

“Go ahead and sit on one of the couches,” he jerked his chin towards the living room and Shinso’s stomach clenched. He shoved his hands in the pocket of his hoodie, fiddling with his phone nervously. “I want to talk to you about something.”

“Ok.” He did as he was told, making his way into the living room and sitting on the couch. He leaned back and took a deep breath. Shinso was nervous and trying to swallow it down, trying to fight way the thoughts flooding his head. They knew and they were kicking him out. Being gay wasn’t ok here and they were sending him away. Aizawa knew about the kiss, about the crush. Shinso tried to fight these off with reason. Aizawa didn’t see them. He was married to a man. They weren’t sending him away.

Shinso was snapped from his thoughts when the cat jumped into his lap, curling up and purring as he pet her, scratching behind her ears. He smiled a bit, feeling himself calm just a bit. His stomach was still tight with worry and his heart was pounding in his ears.

“Hizashi wanted to be here. He wanted us both to talk to you,” Aizawa said as he walked over, setting the two mugs on coasters. “But we both agreed you might do better with just one of us. And he has work tonight, so you’re stuck with me.” Shinso’s mouth felt dry. He hated this. Just rip it off like a band aid. “I want to show you something,” Aizawa said as he walked over to a book shelf and pulled out what looked like a phot album.

Shinso scooted a bit, once more disturbing the cat, as Aizawa sat with a quiet grunt. The coffee mugs were moved out of the way as the book was set on the coffee table. It crackled as it was opened. Shinso leaned forward with curiosity as Aizawa flipped through the book. Steam floated up from their cups as the cat settled onto the couch next to him.

“I met Hizashi in school, at UA,” Aizawa said, “but we didn’t start seeing each other until after we had graduated. We’ve actually only been married for a couple of years now.”

“Wait, really?” Shinso asked, looking at him with raised brows. Aizawa hummed and continued to flip through the book, looking for something specific.

“I had someone I was seeing in high school,” Aizawa continued as he stopped turning the pages. Slowly, Shinso looked over the page. There was a picture of four students, all in their uniforms, arms wrapped around each other and smiling in their own ways. The girl he assumed as Midnight, and Present Mic was easy to spot. Aizawa’s hair was shorter, but it was still clearly Aizawa. But he couldn’t place the fourth boy, the one with a smile that rivaled Hizashi’s.

“Who’s that?” Shinso asked, “the one with the blue hair?”

“Oboro Shirakuma,” Aizawa said. “He and I were dating when this picture was taken. We tried to keep it secret,” a small quirk of his lips formed a smirk, “but Nemuri is the nosiest woman I’ve met, and Hizashi’s more observant than he lets on.” Shinso snorted. “I think they knew we were dating before I did.” The two chuckled together and Shinso reached for his mug, cradling it in his hands, enjoying the warmth. He felt cozy, some of his anxiety easing. He still wasn’t sure what Aizawa wanted to talk to him about, but he had a hunch. He was grateful for how Aizawa seemed to be easing them into the conversation, showing him this was normal and ok.

“What happened to you two?” Shinso asked, letting himself be curious.

“He died,” Aizawa said and Shinso’s stomach dropped like a rock, wincing. “He was killed by a villain during our work studies.”

“I’m sorry,” Shinso said, “I didn’t mean-“

“It’s fine,” Aizawa assured gently. “I wouldn’t have brought him up if it wasn’t.”

“Do you still miss him?” Shinso prodded gently before taking a sip of his coffee.

“Every day,” he admitted. “Shinso, I don’t know if you remember, but your first night here, you made a comment about Hizashi and I.” He winced again, embarrassed. “We didn’t know how to bring it up to you without making you uncomfortable or scared.”

“I’ve never…” Shinso started, hesitating, “I’ve never talked to anyone…about this stuff.”

“I’m not surprised,” Aizawa said as he watched the kid practically curl in on himself, sipping his coffee and looking at the pictures, purple eyes roaming over each one. “Your previous homes don’t strike me as the most welcoming.”

“No,” Shinso said, shaking his head. “I moved around a lot too, so I never really made friends.”

“Hm,” Aizawa hummed, turning back to the book. “The reason I bring this up, is I’ve noticed a certain person seems to hang around you a bit more than the others.” Shinso’s ears turned red. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but he seems to have caught your attention.”

“Sorry,” Shinso said, “You don’t have to worry about it.” Aizawa raised a brow at him and Shinso flushed further. “I can’t uh, there’s really nothing, um, we’re not going to…what I’m trying to say-“

“Take your time, kid,” Aizawa chuckled, reaching for his own mug and sipping it. Shinso winced in embarrassment.

“What I mean is, you don’t have to worry about it getting in the way of my school work, or practice with you,” Shinso said, ears turning redder by the second. “Nothing’s going to happen. I kinda messed it up.”

“What happened?” Aizawa asked. Shinso told him everything, about the kiss, about how he panicked, about how he ran away. But the time it was all out in the open, he was breathless and nervous, waiting for a response. Aizawa laughed. It was a quiet laugh but a laugh none the less. “Yeah,” he said, sipping his coffee, “yeah, that wasn’t good.” Shinso groaned and leaned back, rubbing his hands over his face. Aizawa chuckled, definitely not missing those awkward teenage years.

“It’s better this way,” Shinso huffed, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Really?” Aizawa asked, amused as he flipped the page, just looking at the pictures.

“Yeah,” Shinso said, trying to convince himself, “I can make sure I focus on school. I don’t need to be worrying about dating anyway. And Kaminari should be with someone a little less…messed up.”

“And what are you going to do when he comes back to class?” Aizawa asked. Shinso sat silent for a moment. He hadn’t really thought about that.

“Can’t we pretend it never happened?” he asked, sounding like the kid he was. Aizawa chuckled.

“Do you really think that’ll work?” Shinso leaned his head back with a frustrated huff. “Why are we talking about this?” he asked. “I mean, I shouldn’t be worrying about shit like this. I have to worry about school and a work study, and practice with you. I don’t have time for friends or boyfriends. It’ll just take up time.”

“Shinso,” Aizawa said, gently stopping his ranting. “I didn’t bring it up to tell you not to worry about it.”

“Hu?” he asked, sitting up slowly.

“No one is guaranteed another day,” Aizawa told him. “Oboro taught me that. Yes, school is important, but so is building and maintaining relationships: friends or otherwise.” Shinso looked at him, brows furrowed. He thought Aizawa of all people would encourage him to put school above all else. “There’s more to life than school and work. Even heroes have their own lives outside of being a hero.” Aizawa looked and him and rested a hand on the back of his neck with a small smile. He gave a small shake and Shinso dropped his head, fighting the smile. “If you like him, say something. Use the time you have and live a little. You’ve spent most your life surviving. I think you’ve earned it.” Shinso chuckled at that as Aizawa let him go. He leaned against his teacher, still smiling.

“Thanks,” he said. “Thanks for everything.” Aizawa looked down at him, his small smile still remaining. He wrapped an arm around his shoulders, rubbing his arm a bit. Hizashi would definitely be jealous he missed out on such a perfect bonding opportunity, but Aizawa was sure they’d have plenty of bonding time in the future.
Shinso took his words to heart and it had him buzzing from his head to his toes with anticipation. He knew what he had to do and it terrified him. Aizawa watched with amusement as his student, his foster son, twitched nervously through the day. Shinso was quiet by nature, but he was particularly tight lipped and his friends noticed. They gave him space. He sat through class, jaw clenched. The words of his teachers practically went in one ear and out the other. His purple eyes flicked towards the clock ever few seconds, willing time to go by faster.

Rip it off like a band aid.

When class finally ended, he practically bolted from the room, bag slung over his shoulder.

“Do you want to wait for me?” Aizawa asked.

“No,” he said. “I’ll see you at home.”

“Good luck,” Aizawa offered with a smirk and Shinso flushed deeply. But he didn’t have time to be embarrassed. He practically ran from the school, speeding along, homework packets in his hand. He was gripping them so tight they were starting to crease but he didn’t notice. He walked down the sidewalk, going with the tide of people heading home from work. He crossed the streets when the lights permitted. Block by block he walked. He knew the way.

When he arrived, he looked up at the building and swallowed. Shinso was practically shaking and for a moment he thought of running home. He had been scared of a lot in his life, but this was terrifying. Why was this so scary? It wasn’t like he was in any physical danger. No one was going to hit him or punch him or kick him. What was he so scared of? Step by step he climbed the stairs. His feet carried him up against his will until he was standing on the front door. His heart thundered in his ears and he couldn’t breathe. Shinso had to physically force himself to take a deep breath. With a shaky hand he knocked and stumbled back. He could hear someone approaching and the door unlatched. But when it opened, it wasn’t Kaminari. A woman stood before him, brows furrowed in curiosity. She hadn’t been expecting anyone.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, his palms beginning to sweat. “Is Denki home?”

“Who is it, mom?” Kaminari’s voice came from behind her.

“One of your classmates,” she said, stepping from the way. Lavender eyes met gold and the two stared at each other for a moment, embarrassed and unsure.

“Thanks,” he said, heading towards the door. His mom stepped away and Kaminari stepped through, pulling the door shut behind him so they could talk. “Listen about yesterday-“

“I brought your homework,” Shinso blurted out awkwardly, shoving the papers in front of him. Kaminari was startled but his face slowly turned to one of disappointment and Shinso started to panic. He was messing it up! Think, think, think!

“Thanks,” Kaminari mumbled as he gently took the papers. The two stood there and Kaminari refused to meet his eyes. It almost felt like he was waiting for something, for Shinso to berate him for the kiss. After a few tense moments passed, he turned, hand on the doorknob. “See ya at-“ he was cut off by a hand grabbing his arm.

“Don’t…” Shinso stopped him. Kaminari stared at him but turned. He tilted his head, waiting. “Don’t uh,” Shinso mumbled. Say it! Why couldn’t he say it?

“Look, just,” Kaminari said with a shrug, “don’t worry about it. I get it.”

“You don’t,” Shinso said making Kaminari blink. He pressed his lips into a thin line and pinched his brows. It looked like he was fighting to keep something in and his leg bounced nervously. He couldn’t figure out what to say. Shinso’s thoughts spun in his head with fear of being turned away, of not saying it right and hurting him more.

“You ok, dude?” Kaminari asked, looking him over. Shinso nodded tensely and Kaminari grabbed the doorknob again. “I gotta go back inside,” he said, “dinner’s almost done. I’ll see ya later.” Shinso panicked and he scrambled to find something to say, something to keep Kaminari while he tried to figure something out. He opened his mouth and closed it, gaping like a fish. His voice failed him.

Shinso couldn’t say it.

His chest ached as Kaminari turned away and turned the handle. He couldn’t say it! But maybe he could show him. Shinso reached out, pulling him back and spinning him. He saw Kaminari’s startled eyes for only a moment. He grabbed his face, palms on his cheeks and closed his eyes.

And Shinso kissed him.

It was brief, only a moment before he leaned away, eyes fluttering open. Kaminari stood and stared and Shinso felt his face flushing once more. Kaminari’s silence made him nervous and he opened his mouth to apologize. But he didn’t get the chance. Kaminari pulled him in by his shirt and kissed him again. Only this time, Shinso kissed him back.

They stood there, on Kaminari’s front porch as the sun set around the bustling evening city, just kissing. And when they parted for air, they stayed close, neither really wanting to let go just yet. Their eyes were wide, like they couldn’t quite believe what had happened. Their faces were flushed, hearts racing, panting.

“Did that….” Kaminari panted, glancing down at Shinso’s lips.

“Yeah,” he breathed, his body thrumming with adrenaline.

“Can I-“ Kaminari started.

“Uh-hu,” Shinso nodded and they kissed again. As far as first kisses go, it was pretty damn good. Shinso’s head spun, going numb with relief. Kaminari’s lips were soft and he didn’t want to stop. He hummed into the kiss as Kaminari continued to kiss him softly. Moths flew around the porchlight as they stood there, kissing, hands gripping each other’s shirts. Slowly, slowly, their kissing stopped. There was a quiet smack as their lips parted, breaths brushing against faces as they lingered close. Kaminari gave an amused hum and brushed his nose against Shinso’s.

“You had me worried,” he said quietly.

“Sorry,” Shinso swallowed as Kaminari drapped his arms lazily over his shoulders with a hum.

“It’s alright,” Kaminari assured with a shrug, “besides, you’ve almost made up for leaving me hangin’ like that.” Shinso couldn’t help the small tug of a smile at his lips.

“How can I make it up to you?” he asked quietly. Kaminari looked up, pretending to think, but the smile gave him away.

“Well,” he drawled out before meeting Shinso’s stare. “You could kiss me again.” Shinso’s shoulders shook as he chuckled and shook his head. But he needed to make it up to Kaminari and he wanted to kiss him again just as bad.

So, he did.

Chapter Text

He shed the short with a frustrated grunt, tossing it onto the growing pile on his bed. Shinso scowled down at the pile as though someone else had tossed a pile of laundry there. He ran his fingers through his wild purple hair, making it even messier as he let out a grunt of frustration. His leg bounced as his hands rested on his hips.

Why was this so difficult?

Kaminari hadn’t come back to class yet, but every day Shinso stopped by his house to drop off some things. He would drop of homework, notes, well wishes from classmates and friends, and maybe a kiss or two.

But let’s get back to the subject.

Shinso was freaking out. He had seen Kaminari a few times through the week, sure, but this was…what was this? Kaminari had asked him so he wouldn’t be a third wheel. Was this still just a friend thing? Was this more? What was everyone wearing? It was just the mall but most kids his ae had a fashion sense or something like it. Shinso liked certain colors but was it fashion? Did he look good? Did Kaminari think he looked good? It was the mall and a movie and maybe dinner? Did Kaminari say dinner? That makes it a double date. Are they dating? Does that change what he should wear? He still doesn’t know what to wear!

Maybe he needed help.

He thought about it for a moment. Aizawa wasn’t home, though he wasn’t too sure Aizawa was the best for fashion help. Maybe it was the pink sweatpants. Maybe it was the yellow sleeping bag. But the there was Present Mic. His three foot hair style was….a choice. But that was his hero outfit. He’d seen him in casual clothes and he looked nice. He’d seen Aizawa like that too, but the sleeping bag was concerning. But then Shinso remembered Present Mic’s fashion choices out of the hero outfit. The booty shorts and flamingo shirt he often saw the man sporting was its own choice. Shinso grimaced at the options.

Shinso’s racing thoughts came to a screeching halt when his phone buzzed and Kaminari’s name popped up on the screen. He practically dove for the phone, upsetting the cat from her perch on top of it.

“Shoo, shoo,” he said as he grabbed the phone. He unlocked it and looked at the message, his heart racing and palms sweating.

Kaminari: wen were we meeting again I dont remember

Kirishima: r we eating b4 or after the movie

Kaminari: wat movie

Kaminari: jk jk I remember lets do after I had a late lunch

Bakugo: Asshole. Move starts at 4:45. You assholes get here at 3:30. I know you fuckers are going to be late.

Shinso’s stomach dropped at the time. It was already 2:00. He shot off the bed and rushed to the door, tripping over the cat that swatted at his leg, clearly fed up with his bullshit. He stumbled into the hall. It was time to bite the bullet.

“Mr. Hizashi,” he called, eyes wide with panic, heart racing. “Mr. Hizashi?” He turned the corner and the man faced him, brows furrowed in worry as his foster son appeared. Shinso swallowed, dread pooling in his gut.

“What’s up, little listener?” he asked.

“I need help.”

Kaminari was leaning against the streetlight outside of his apartment. Shinso had offered to walk with him and it made Kaminari’s heart skip a beat. Yes, he would like Shinso to walk with him! His stomach tensed with nerves at the thought. He was practically buzzing with excitement at the idea of spending the day with Shinso.

But then his heart sank at an unwelcome thought. What if Shinso was just walking with him incase he had another seizure? Another person was trying to care for him, worrying about him, assuming he couldn’t take care of himself. It was frustrating and his eyes stung with the next line of thought. They weren’t exactly wrong.

Kaminari popped in his earbuds and hit play on the playlist Shinso had sent him. It had quickly become his favorite and was something like a comfort at this point. It was frustrating with the seizures. They were so debilitating. Even on days he didn’t have seizures, he often felt like his head wasn’t quite right. He tried to keep up the sunny disposition so no one ever really picked up on his doubt.

“Hey,” Shinso’s voice called, catching his attention. Kaminari looked to him and slapped that bright smile back on his face. No doubt, no sadness, just good vibes.
“Hey, man!” he said excitedly, shoving his phone and earbuds in his pocket. His gold eyes flicked over his friend…boyfriend? The person he liked to kiss. He looked at Shinso found the urge to kiss him grow stronger.

He looked…really cute.

“Ready?” Shinso asked, stopping by him.

“Yeah, better get going before Bakugo gets too pissy.” Shinso chuckled at that, imagining Bakugo bitching about being on time with Kirishima standing behind him, bright smile in place. They were quite a pair but they seemed to balance each other out. “You look nice, by the way!” Kaminari said, elbowing him gently, “who knew you had a sense of style?” Shinso kept to dark colors, but not all black like Tokoyami. Sure, his jeans were black and ripped, but his shirt was dark purple, and he even had a bit of an accessory with the black leather bracelet on his wrist. Just edgy enough to be cool, comfortable, casual.

“Did you think I’d show up in my uniform?” Shinso joked back, knowing he had actually considered it in a moment of sheer terror.

“I dunno dude,” Kaminari shrugged with a lazy grin. “You’re like a Mr. Aizawa 2.0. Kinda surprised you didn’t show up in a sleeping bag, too.”

“Hey,” Shinso said through laughter, elbowing him back. “Come on, what if it’s really comfy?” The two kept laughing, gently elbowing each other or bumping into each other as they walked down the street. But after a while, the laughter dwindled and they found themselves walking in silence down the busy street. Shinso looked for something to say. Kaminari looked good, but Kaminari always looked good. “Nice bracelet,” he said, the silver chain catching his eye. But instead of making him happy, Kaminari’s smile fell and he looked away.

“Thanks,” he said, stuffing his hand in the pocket of his jacket. “It’s just the medical bracelet.”

“Medical bracelet?” Shinso parroted. “Like for your seizures?”

“Yeah,” he said, seemingly almost disinterested. “If I have a seizure, and I’m out in public alone, it lets the paramedics know. It’s quirk related epilepsy. A lot of things cause seizures, so when I wear this, it let’s them rule out a bunch of options.” He pulled his hand out and turned over his rest, showing the small silver plate with the red symbol on it. He flipped it over to show the back. It had a word on it written so small he couldn’t quite see it. Without thinking, he gently lifted Kaminari’s wrist closer so he could read it. But when he released his wrist, he was startled by the wide eyes and slight flush to Kaminari’s face.

“Sorry,” he said, dropping his hand.

“No, no,” Kaminari rushed, letting his hand fall beside Shinso’s. He let their hands graze together for a moment before gently trying to lace his pinky with Shinso’s.

“It’s ok. I didn’t mind.” Shinso got the message loud and clear and he took Kaminari’s hand, trying not to worry about the clamminess of his palm. It seemed like this small touch of affection was enough to clear away the previous conversation. “I’ve been listening to the playlist all week,” he said with an upwards twitch of his mouth.

“Glad you like it,” Shinso said. “They’re some of my favorites.”

“Hey, Shinso? Can I ask you something?” Purple eyes blinked in curiosity. When he gave no verbal response, Kaminari continued. “It’s about when you were in the hospital.” Shinso’s stomach dropped. He had hopped Kaminari had forgotten. “The woman who hit you, who was she?” Sitting at home all week gave him plenty of time to think and for some reason, that question had run circles in his head.

Kaminari almost regretted bringing it up as silence settled over them. They stood on the curb, watching traffic go by as they waited for the crosswalk to change. When he still go no response, he opened his mouth to apologize, to take it back.

“She was my foster mom.”

Kaminari stopped walking and the tug on Shinso’s hand startled him. He turned to face the blonde, mildly surprised by the response. But Kaminari’s look of hurt and concern made him wish he never said anything.

“Hey,” he said, tugging on his hand, urging him to walk again, “don’t worry about. It’s fine.”

“You’re not still living with her, are you?” Kaminari asked urgently, grabbing Shinso’s arm, fingers bunching the sleeve. “Dude, you don’t have to live like that. You can tell someone. Maybe the school will actually build the dorms. There’s people-“

“Woah, hang on,” Shinso said, cutting him off gently, “Kaminari, it’s fine. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“Shinso-“

“Denki,” Shinso tried using his first name, finding he liked the way it sat on his tongue. “Hey, it’s fine. I don’t live with her anymore. I’m ok.” Kaminari eyed him, mulling over what he said, debating on whether or not he believed him. Shinso squeezed his hand and offered a relaxed smile, showing he was ok, he was happy. “I haven’t lived with her for a while. I actually moved out right before I went to the hospital. I’m staying with a really nice couple now.”

“You sure?” Kaminari asked. “You’re not just saying that?”

“No,” Shinso said, trying not to chuckle at the disbelief. “No, I’m not just saying that. Hey,” he said, tugging his hand again, “let’s keep going. You said Bakugo doesn’t like people being late right?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t really wanna hear him bitch at us,” Shinso joked with a lazy grin. Kaminari was so startled by the answer and Shinso’s ease was both comforting and worrying. Was he comfortable because he was safe or because he had given up? Kaminari hoped he was safe.

“Ok,” he said. “Ok, but if this couple gives you any trouble, you let us know. We’ll sic Midoriya on them!”

“Not Bakugo?” Shinso asked through hearty laughter.

“That’s fair,” Kaminari shrugged, “I want them hurt, not dead.” Shinso choked on air at the thought of Midoriya killing someone. He seemed to kind to do something so violent, no matter how cruel the person was.

“Ok, Kaminari,” Shinso said, humoring him. “I don’t think they’ll be a problem. But if they do, you’ll be the first to know.”

“I better be,” he warned. “Or else I’ll kick your ass, too.” Shinso smiled at that and gave his hand another squeeze.

“I promise.”

Chapter Text

“Wow, that movie was awesome!” Kaminari shouted as they stepped out into the hall.

“Right?” Kirishima shouted back, just as excited. “Dude, I thought they were gonna crash for sure!”

“I think I’d piss myself if that ever happened to me,” Kaminari laughed before elbowing Shinso. “So, what’d ya think?”

“It was good,” Shinso said with a smile. “It was fun, thanks for inviting me.”

“Woulda been better if you two losers weren’t so damn loud the whole way through,” Bakugo cut in, glaring at Kaminari and Kirishima.

“Oh, come on, Bakugo,” Kaminari teased, draping his arm around a dangerously irritated Bakugo’s shoulders. “You’re just mad you and Kirishima didn’t get to suck face the whole time.” Bakugo flushed redder than a lobster and his palms began to crackle.

“SHUT THE HELL UP, ASSHOLE!” he shouted, Kirishima holding him back with practiced ease. “DIE, DIE, DIE!” The group were slowly making their way out of the theatre and into the night. Cars passed on the streets, honking and chatter creating a din.

“Jeeze, Bakugo,” Kaminari antagonized, “who crawled up your butt, today?” This only served to piss him off further.

“So, what did you guys want to eat for dinner?” Shinso asked, trying to help keep a fight from breaking out. The effects were almost instant. Kaminari turned to him with a bright, excited smile and Bakugo went from a ball of rage to something more like a hot teapot with steam blowing out his ears.

“There’s this really good place a few blocks away we could go to!” Kaminari suggested as people pushed past.

It was the four of them standing on the sidewalk, talking in their little group like everything revolved around them. They weren’t heroes in training, they weren’t survivors of battles and various traumas. They were just kids, just regular teenagers.

Shinso stood with them, laughing and smiling with them. He was normal. For once he was normal and it felt like such a relief, like he could breathe easy.

Through the bickering and antagonizing and teasing, dinner was decided. The four of them began to amble down the street in the general direction of food, pleasant chatter between them. As they walked, he let his hand brush against Kaminari’s and the blonde was quick to take it in his own. Shinso’s ears went pink at the smile he received and his lavender eyes flicked over Kaminari, taking him in. He’d been eyeing him all night. He couldn’t help but notice when Kaminari would tug at the frays of his light jeans and all its tears. He had worn a black tee shirt but wrapped a yellow flannel shirt around his waist, no doubt to wear if the movie theatre was too cold.

Shinso was thrilled to inform Kaminari did not need the flannel even though it was quite chilly.

Kaminari’s smile was Shinso’s favorite part. His smile, his laugh, he had a sunny charm that drew Shinso to him like a flame. The urge to kiss him had been growing all night. He wanted to pull him in and kiss him again.

They hadn’t kissed that night, but holy shit did he want to do it again.

It was an all-consuming urge. He couldn’t really focus on the movie, too distracted by the boy leaning against him, under his arm, the two of them safe under the cover of darkness. But he could not muster up the courage to kiss him.

But want was overcoming fear.

“Hey,” he said quietly, taking advantage of Kirishima and Bakugo walking ahead of them. He gently tugged on Kaminari’s arm. “Kaminari,” he said. The boy in question turned to him, brows raised.

“Yeah, what’s up?” he asked, stopping in his tracks. Kirishima and Bakugo walked on, not realizing they had stopped. Shinso stood toe to toe with him, his heart racing in his ears. Suddenly, he found himself having the same problem when they first kissed. He wanted to be braver. He was learning to be a hero, damnit, he should be able to kiss his crush.

“I uh…” he swallowed thickly, glancing down at Kaminari’s lips for the briefest of moments, but the damage was done. Those lips quirked into a smile and his knees went weak. Shinso felt foolish.

“Oh,” Kaminari said, the slightest of flushes dashing across his nose and Shinso’s palms began to clam up and he prayed Kaminari couldn’t feel it. “Did you want…”
“Is that…” Shinso asked. “Do you want…”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “uh, yeah, if that’s ok with you, I mean.” Shinso tugged on his hand gently, pulling him just a bit closer. He was thankful most of the crowd had thinned the farther they walked from the theatre. It wasn’t exactly private, but what few people were out were wrapped up in their own conversations and thoughts. Shinso stared down at Kaminari’s lips, his breath stuck in his lungs.

They were so close. When he spared a glance away from his lips, he saw Kaminari’s half lidded eyes pinned to his own lips. Shinso could feel Kaminari’s breath and the air between them buzzed. Was it Kaminari’s quirk or Shinso’s own ecstatic excitement?

It drew him in.

Something caught his eye and the want died. The warmth was eaten away by cold terror. The air between them shifted and Kaminari leaned away.

“Shinso?” he asked. “What’s wrong?” But Shinso wasn’t looking at him. Shinso was looking past him over his shoulder, pale and panicked. He couldn’t hear a breath escape him. He turned to see a man approaching and the hairs stood on the back of his neck. Shinso’s grip tightened on Kaminari’s arms and he slowly guided him to the side.

Shinso felt sick to his stomach.

Hands, fists, the pain of a boot stomping on him. He hated how he shook. He hated he couldn’t find his voice to ward Kaminari or find the strength to push him away. He wanted to protect him. Shinso had to protect Kaminari, get him out of here. His fear had come true.

It was HIM.

Shinso's heart was racing but his body was shutting down. That familiar terror was stealing his breath. Safe, he needed to get somewhere safe where HE couldn’t get to him. Home, home, he was almost home, he was so close.

Shinso grunted and dragged himself up the steps to the apartment, his limbs shaking, his legs about to give out. Sweat was dripping down his face from the exertion and he tripped over the last few steps, his hands and knees stinging at the damage. With labored breathing he tossed himself at the door, numb hand searching for the key, trying to hold it.

“Shinso!” Kaminari shouted from the base of the stairs, using his hands to propel him up. “Shinso, hey, wait!”

Breathe, damnit, breathe, panic makes it worse. Between the running and absolute terror, the poison was spreading faster and faster. It was a miracle he was still upright. But it wasn’t lasting. He grunted, his body falling against the door and jabbing at the lock.

There goes one arm. Completely immobile. He tried to not put all his weight on one leg, feeling them starting to go slack against his will. They were going. Any second now.

Please, please, please unlock.

“Shinso, what-“ the door unlatched and swung open under Shinso’s weight as he collapsed, hardly supported by Kaminari’s arms that wrapped around him at the last possible moment. “Shinso!” he shouted, stumbling into the apartment, desperately trying to keep them both upright. Between the small space and awkward positioning, Kaminari fell to the hardwood floor. He was grateful he could at least keep Shinso from smacking his face against the floor. “Shinso, dude, say something!” Kaminari begged, shaking his shoulder, but Shinso just stared back. “Shit, shit, dude, what…please, come on, tell me what to do.”

Shinso couldn’t do anything. His entire body was slack now. His heart raced and his lungs still manage to force air in and out of him, keeping him alive, but he couldn’t force himself to breathe slow. All he could do was lay there and watch Kaminari panic.

“Kaminari!” Present Mic said from down the hall. The two blondes stared for a brief second, both confused by the presence of the other, but those questions could be asked later. Present Mic, in plain jeans and a t-shirt, his hair in a bun, and definitely not looking like his hero self, rushed the two teens, dropping to his knees behind Shinso. “What happened?” he asked gently, though there was a tense firmness as he began looking over his foster son. “Shinso, hey kiddo, can you hear me?”

“He won’t respond,” Kaminari said, his eyes starting to sting, “it was like he couldn’t, he was slurring and I couldn’t understand and he just stopped talking and then he was stumbling and limping and-“

“Woah, woah, slow down,” Hizashi soothed with a smile, “I don’t need both of you passed out on my floor,” he teased, earning a nervously embarrassed smile. Hizashi reached over and took Shinso’s wrist in his hand as he looked him over, looking for blood or bruising. “What happened?” he asked, making sure to sound as calm as possible. As he counted the beats, he watched Shinso’s chest rise and fall at a steady pace. “Did someone touch him?”

“Y-yeah,” Kaminari said slowly, “how did-“

“Tell me about it,” Hizashi told him as his hand moved to Shinso’s forehead. “Did he touch any one else?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head, the memory flooding back and he sniffled, running his nose on the back of his hand. “No, he tried to grab me, but…” he furrowed his brows, something trying to click into place. “Shinso pushed me out of the way. Like he knew what was gonna happen.”

“Hmm,” Hizashi hummed, smoothing back Shinso’s hair, keeping the strands away from his face, “that doesn’t surprise me.” Kaminari’s confusion only grew at the sight of the fond smile. “You’re gonna be alright, Hitoshi,” he said, patting his arm. “You’re safe, kid.”

“What’s going on?” Kaminari asked. Hizashi’s eyes flicked down for a moment, still smiling like he knew a secret.

“Let’s wait for him to come back before we talk about it,” Hizashi suggested. Kaminari looked down at him, seeing tears were now falling down his face, pooling on the floor.

“Woah, hey,” he said quietly, trying to wipe them away as gently as he could. It was difficult with the awkward angle, but Kaminari tried to smile through his own sniffling and misty eyes. He managed to gently tilt Shinso’s head to let him see a bit, gently pushing his shoulders so as to not strain his neck. “Hey, you’re ok, man,” he said. “I’m gonna hang out with you for a bit, until you’re doing better, ok?”

“I’m going to go make a few calls,” Hizashi said with a small, reassuring smile. Kaminari blinked at him, resisting the urge to beg him to stay. He was scared, Shinso was scared, he didn’t want Hizashi to leave them. But he swallowed that fear. Kaminari had to stay calm, had to stay brave for Shinso. He had to reassure him, be a hero, help him feel safe. So he nodded. “Hey, it’s gonna be ok, little listener. Just sit tight. I’ll be right back.” Kaminari watched him leave and for such a loud hero, he could speak eerily quietly when he needed to.

“Hey,” Kaminari said, looking down at Shinso again, wiping away a tear. He sniffled, trying to keep it together. “You keep things interesting, don’t you? I thought that was my job.” Shinso didn’t respond, just laying there, purple eyes staring up at him. “I bet laying there sucks, hu? Can’t be comfortable.” He looked around, looking for something to put under his head. But he couldn’t find anything. There were pillows and a blanket on the couch, but…he couldn’t just leave him laying there, not like this. “Hang on a sec.”

Kaminari shifted off of his knees, sitting on his but and leaning against the wall for support. As gently as he could, he pulled Shinso closer, rolling him onto his back.
He positioned him so Shinso’s head lay on his thigh. Kaminari was careful to make sure his head was tilted in a way to allow him to breathe easy. He even hovered his hand close to Shinso’s nose and mouth, not satisfied until he could feel the exhales.

“Hope this is ok,” Kaminari said. “I don’t really know if you like being touched or not. I guess you can yell at me later.” He chuckled at his own joke before his smile slowly fell. He looked over to Present Mic, watching him walk around the apartment, talking quickly on the phone. He tried to listen, tried to eavesdrop but he didn’t have any luck. “I uh, I liked the movie,” he said, giving Shinso a nervous smile, trying to stave off the uncomfortable silence. Shinso’s tears had stopped for the most part, but every so often Kaminari would see one and was quick to wipe it away. “I liked watching it with you. Thanks for uh, coming with us.” He laughed nervously to himself. “This is so weird. You’re usually quite, dude, but not this quiet.”

Kaminari took in a deep breath and looked around. Present Mic had disappeared, and dread swirled in his stomach. He turned his attention back to Shinso.
“I uh,” he paused. “I like kissing you.” The confession hung over them. “I really like kissing you. I uh, he he,” he couldn’t stifle the nervous laughter. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it. Makes it hard to focus in class, you know?”

Silence.

“So, Present Mic?” he asked. “I guess you live with him now? Kinda weird, I never thought you’d get along with him. Well, you get along with me, I think… I mean I like you, and I like hanging around you and I think you like hanging around me and I’m as bad as Midoriya right now, but I don’t what to say right now.” He sniffled and let his hand comb through Shinso’s hair, hoping it was comforting and not creepy.

Shinso wanted to reach up and touch him, close his eyes and relax at the touch. His body was already limp, so he couldn’t really relax any further. His chest hurt at the sight of Kaminari crying, worried about him, and guilt gnawed at him. If he had paid more attention to his surroundings, if he had been more careful, if he’d never let his guard down.

But as terrified as he was, that fear was slowly fading. Hizashi was there, he’d watch over them. He was home. He was safe there. And for once, he could mostly see what was around him. Shinso wasn’t left laying face down on the floor, bleeding and struggling to breathe. His head was left in his friend’s (boyfriend’s?) lap and gentle fingers combed through his hair. Kaminari was talking to him and fuck, he wanted to say something back.

He couldn’t stop thinking about kissing him, too. Maybe it was silly, but it was distracting him from the inevitable. Shinso was still filled with tense dread, anxiety that someone would come try to stomp his head in again, to kick him, drag him around by his hair. But maybe if he focused on Kaminari, maybe it wouldn’t happen.

Maybe he could keep it at bay.

But then his stomach sank.

Laying there, unable to move, speak, protect himself, that was only part of it. As horrible as it was, he dreaded the effects wearing off. He hadn’t told anyone about it. Shinso didn’t really think there was a reason to. It was also embarrassing. He hated it. He always cried, too. He didn’t want to cry in front of Kaminari, make him worry or make him reconsider being his friend/maybe boyfriend.

Shinso made a mental note to figure that out if Kaminari ever talked to him again.

His only saving grace was that Aizawa wouldn’t be home to see it. With any luck, Hizashi would be in a different room, too.

How long had he been on the floor?

But then the door opened and Shinso’s breath hitched. It was so quiet, he was surprised Kaminari heard it. Who was here? He couldn’t see. Who was it?

“Hey, hey, it’s ok,” Kaminari assured him with a smile. “It’s ok, it’s Mr. Aizawa.” Then Kaminari blinked and looked up at the approaching man. “Hey, wait, Mr. Aizawa, what are you doing here?”

“I live here,” he said, walking over slowly, letting his feet make noise so Shinso could hear him. If Shinso wasn’t stuck on the floor, he would have laughed at Kaminari’s flabbergasted face as he put two and two together. But now shame ate at him, his body aching on the hardwood, dreading the effects wearing off. As Hizashi rejoined them, he resigned himself to the fact that for the first time, he was going to be stuck with an audience.

He just hoped he wouldn’t puke again.

“How long have you two been sitting here?” Aizawa asked.

“They came in about thirty minutes ago,” Hizashi said, kneeling on the floor.

Shit, had it been that long?

“How long did the touch last?” Aizawa asked, he and his husband looking at Kaminari expectantly.

“Uh,” he blinked, startled at being put on the spot. “Uh, like… a second, I think? It wasn’t really long.” He reached out to Aizawa, tapping him on the arm so briefly it could have been excused as an accidental bump. “It was like that. I think it hurt, though.”

“Hm,” Aizawa nodded before looking down at Shinso, meeting his purple eyes. He patted the top of his head, wanting to give him some comfort without making him feel overwhelmed. “He should be coming back any minute now.” Even as he spoke, Shinso could feel the effects of it waning. He tried to brace himself as slowly, ever so slowly, tension started growing in his muscles.

It was always like this, slow at first.

Then snap!

Shinso let out a long, pained groan as his jaw clenched shut, his body completely tensing, every muscle group at once. His body shook and started to convulse. He couldn’t hear what they were saying but Kaminari sounded so worried, so scared, and he hated it.

His head began to thump against the floor and hands slowly rolled him onto his side as he curled in on himself and stretched back out rapidly. Shinso squeezed his eyes shut, just trying to get through it. His muscles screamed at him, something tore he could feel it. There was a painful pop that always preceded the searing pain.
The bile burned at the back of his throat and he started to gasp, trying to get as much air so he wouldn’t suffocate. He couldn’t feel the tears but they were making it hard to breathe.

He couldn’t help it.

Shinso couldn’t help the vomit that shot out from his mouth. He could feel the blood vessels popping around his eyes at the strain. The shaking was waning to where it looked more like sharp twitching and he struggled to roll onto his stomach. More vomit crept its way up his throat and he shakily forced himself up on his hands, body arching painfully as he heaved. Shinso refused to open his eyes but he could feel it splashing on his hands. He was still shaking, but now he could start to focus on what he felt.

Pain, mostly he felt pain.

Embarrassment or was it shame?

Guilt for making them worry, definitely guilt.

Hands.

There were warm hands. More often than not, coming out of this hands would send him into a panic. Even though his scalp burned at the anticipation of the hair being pulled, these hands never brought the panic. They were warm, gentle. Someone was rubbing his back, like they had done the first time he threw up here.
He really should stop doing that. They might take him to the hospital again.

“Shinso, can you hear me?” Kaminari’s worried voice came through the static pain and racing thoughts. “Are you ok? Are you hurt?”

“Easy, kiddo, give him a minute,” Present Mic said gently.

“Try to breathe, Hitoshi,” Aizawa said to him quietly. “Just focus on breathing. You’re safe. Just breathe.”

Shinso took in a deep breath and more vomit came up. He coughed and spat, keeping his eyes closed, tears dripping down his nose. Gross, gross, gross, it smelled so rancid. His arms ached with the train and his body shook more, struggling to keep himself upright.

He started to fall.

Thankfully, before he faceplanted into a pile of vomit, the three of them managed to get him onto his side, his back against his foster dad’s knees as he coughed and tried to breathe. Hizashi moved some of his hair out of his face. They watched him as he took a few deep breaths, tired purple eyes slowly fluttering open.
They all waited.

“Sorry.”

The tension dissipated.

“How are you feeling, kiddo?” Hizashi asked gently, looking down at Shinso, amused at the way he crinkled his nose at the smell of the vomit. “Let’s get you to the couch first.” Aizawa and Hizashi started to help him off the floor, but something twinged the wrong way and he shouted in pain. The two adults froze, almost panicking.

“What? What happened?” Kaminari fretted, watching Shinso’s face scrunch in pain. The two adults were able to help him at least sit upright.

“Hurts,” Shinso grunted. Aizawa looked him over, a hand on his back, keeping him up.

“What hurts?” he asked gently.

“A lot,” Shinso mumbled, his jaw aching. He was so tired, so sore. Slowly, wincing, he tapped his shoulder.

“Can you move it?” Aizawa asked. Slowly, Shinso began to shift it, wincing. It hurt, but he could do it. “Is there anything else that hurts?”

“Everything,” he mumbled. Aizawa rested his hand on his head with a small smile.

“Is there anything at hurts more than the rest?” Shinso slowly shook his head. “Alright, we’re gonna help you up.”

“Kay,” he said.

“On the count of three,” Hizashi prompted. Kaminari watched as they helped him up, wishing he could be doing something, too. The two guided him over to the couch, setting him down gently. He sat back, his head leaning back, eyes closed as he breathed, brows pinched. “Can we get you anything?” Hizashi asked. Shinso shook his head and the two adults looked to each other. They had a several questions but that could wait. Kaminari had a million.

“We’re gonna clean this up,” Aizawa said before turning to Kaminari. “Mind staying with him?”

“Not at all!”

“Great!” Hizashi all but cheered, pulling Aizawa away. Kaminari had never seen someone so excited to clean vomit. “Let us know if you guys need anything.”

Kaminari stood before Shinso, watching him sit there, eyes closed, just breathing. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to say. How can he make it better?

He breathed in deep and took a chance.

Kaminari sat on the couch next to Shinso slowly so he didn’t bother him. He looked him over, watching him just sit there and breathe. He seemed to be in pain, but Kaminari couldn’t really help with that. His thought ran crazy in his head as he desperately searched for something he could say.

“Me too,” Shinso managed to get it. Kaminari blinked at him a few times. Had he heard right?

“Hm?” he asked, leaning closer so he could hear. Shinso swallowed thickly.

“Me too,” he said again, his eyes blinking open. His bags seemed more pronounced and he looked paler than he had before. He rolled his head to the side, trying to give Kaminari a small, tired smile. “Can’t stop thinking about it, either.”

Kaminari flushed from head to toe. It was good to know Shinso had heard him talking. He almost jumped when he felt a cold hand bump into his. But he smiled and wrapped his fingers around Shinso’s clammy hand.

“Sorry you had to see that,” Shinso said, swallowing again.

“Hu?” he hummed before busting out into a grin more like himself, “hey, man, don’t sweat it! I mean look at it this way, you saw me have a seizure. Things happen.” Shinso gave him a small smile and squeezed his hand.

“Thanks,” he said. Kaminari squeezed back.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, still smiling. “How are you feeling? It looked like it hurt.”

“I’m alright,” Shinso said, wincing as he sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nothing I’m not used to.”

“Shinso,” Kaminari said gently, his smile falling into a look of sad understanding. “That guy, the one who grabbed you…that was your foster dad…wasn’t he?”

“How did…” Shinso stared, wide eyed.

“I mean…I saw how you were treated at the hospital,” Kaminari said with a shrug. “And it seemed like you knew him. It was kinda like you knew this would happen. I just kinda assume…is he not?”

“He was,” Shinso admitted, glancing to Aizawa and Hizashi who moved about the apartment. Hizashi was back on the phone and Aizawa was cleaning. “It’s ok, though. I don’t live there anymore.” A small smile graced his face. “I’m safe now.”

"I can see that," Kaminari teased quietly, earing a wince and chuckle from Shinso. All Shinso wanted was to lean against him, feel his fingers in his hair, maybe lay his head in Kaminari's lap again. He wanted to do more than hold hands. He wanted to kiss him, to hold him close, feel him against him. Shinso wanted to feel his head go numb like he did when he kissed Kaminari.

But he was so tired.

“Hey little listeners,” Hizashi said, coming back into the room. “How’re you feeling, kid?” Hizashi asked Shinso.

“Better,” he said with a tired smile. “I’m fine, just takes a lot outta me.”

“Glad to hear,” he said. “We’re planning to order take out, do you two want anything?” Shinso winced and looked at Kaminari.

“Sorry, I guess I kinda ruined dinner plans,” Shinso said, digging in his pocket, struggling to get his phone out. “I should let them know I’m ok.”

“Here, I got it,” Kaminari said, pulling out his own phone before looking up at Present Mic. “We were gonna grab something to eat with Kirishima and Bakugo but this kinda happened.”

“Glad we waited so long,” Hizashi said before looking over his shoulder. “Shota, they’re gonna eat here, too.”

“Alright,” he called. “Where are we ordering from?”

“Oh, no,” Shinso snorted. Kaminari looked between him and Present Mic who had a scowl of displeasure.

“What?” Kaminari asked.

“What do you mean?” Hizashi asked loudly, turning to Aizawa with his hands on his hips. The tired man looked a little startled. “I thought you already had dinner picked out!”

“Hu?” he asked, an exasperated frown on his face. “It was your turn to choose.”

“What’s going on?” Kaminari asked Shinso quietly, not a all comforted by Shinso’s quiet chuckle.

“They can never figure out what to eat,” Shinso explained. “Every time we order take out, neither of them can make up their minds.”

“This happens every time?” Kaminari asked, watching as Hizashi walked away, heading over to his husband. The two adults bickered a bit, going back and forth over what to eat.

“Every time.”

Chapter Text

Shinso sat on his bed and looked around the room, his room, and wondered how he had gotten so lucky.

The first time he had slept in this bed, he was sick as a dog. He couldn't breathe well, couldn't stop coughing, and if he remembered correctly, threw up quite a few times. That fever had been hell on him. But it was the first time in a long time he had felt safe enough to really sleep.

The room had been bland, empty at the time. And it had been fine. It was just a room he was borrowing, nothing more. It was fine.

But now it was his and he could do what he wanted with it (within reason).

It was overwhelming at first, the possibilities endless. So, Hizashi suggested starting small.

It started with the bedding he was currently sitting on. Lavender. The sheets were lavender as was the soft, thick comforter. He had two small black pillows, too. To break it up, Hizashi had said.

He wouldn't admit it, but some of his inspiration actually came from Kaminari and Jiro. Both were very musically inclined with their posters or instrument all over. But Shinso was more interested in the lights. Jiro had an amazing string of fairy lights that draped back and forth across her ceiling, glowing softly, shifting colors slowly. When she showed him a different mode, he couldn't help but think of stars as they almost twinkled. There were a sharp contrast to Kaminari's bright LED lights that lined the edges of the ceiling. Their colors were more vibrant, almost bright enough to act as lighting on their own. They were different, so different, and he couldn't decided which one to get.

Aizawa got him both.

Now his room was never without light. Sometimes he even fell asleep with the fairy lights still on, twinkling like stars above him.

Momo had gotten him gift when she learned he was decorating. Now, up on his wall, was a small, cat shaped, neon outline. Purple of course.

"Kaminari mentioned you were trying to decorate your room," she had said, Shinso's ears turning red as she handed him a small box. "I saw this on my way home yesterday, and I thought you might like it."

The simple but sweet gesture started an avalanche of similar actions and now Shinso's room was completely transformed. Varying shades of purples, greys, and black covered his room. Posters and picture all but completely covered his walls, broken up by the shelves holding books or small figures. The room no longer resembled the blank slate he started with.

Shinso had been given a new start and he was going to his best to make the most of it.

"Shinso?" Hizashi called as he knocked on his door.

"Yeah," he responded, setting his laptop beside him and pausing the music. The door slowly swung open and Hizashi stood with a smile in his Christmas pajamas. They were bright and loud and exactly what you'd expect from him. He had even slapped on a Santa hat.

"Wanna watch a movie with us?" Shinso smiled.

Christmas time had rolled around and Shinso wasn't sure what to expect. He typically dreaded it, being stuck at his previous place. He was stuck in a terrifying home with people who hated him. He was always acutely aware of how his friends and classmates would go home to loving families, eat what they want, share gifts and make memories. Shinso had started to hate the holidays.

But this time, he was willing to take a chance.

"Sure," he said. "I'll be right there."

"Great," Hizashi said, "I'll make more coco." Shinso chuckled as his foster dad walked down the hall, the bells on his sweater jingling away. He heard him grumble and swear and stumble, undoubtedly being attacked by her again. She adored his bells.

Shinso saved what he was doing and closed his laptop. He rose from his bed and set it on his desk, letting it charge while it could. Shinso shuffled across the room and down the hall in his slippers. Every time he saw them, he couldn't help but laugh. They were black cats and apparently Hizashi thought Shinso needed new slippers.

That's not surprising. What did surprise Shinso was Aizawa's yearly Christmas tradition. This year, they had included Shinso. The Christmas pajamas he wore could be completely credited to Aizawa. However, he had to give the man some credit. While Hizashi's sweater and pajama pants were as exuberant as him, Shinso's was more subdued.

Shinso's pants had a black and white snowflake patter, keeping it simple. It came with a thermal long sleeved shirt, but he preferred the purple sweatshirt they had given him when he was sick. It had quickly become his favorite.

"When did you get in?" Shinso asked as he stepped into the shared living space. Aizawa was already perched on the couch, fiddling with the remote. Snow continued to fall outside. It had been snowing all day and the day before, giving them all a break from school. It hadn't given them a break from hero work, though.

"Been home about an hour," Aizawa said, "sorry I didn't greet you. Hizashi insisted I shower first."

"You reeked!" Hizashi shouted from the kitchen as he poured hot water into three mugs. "I refuse to let you stink up our boy's new room!" he cried dramatically.

"What happened?" Shinso asked, lips twitching into a smile.

"We ended up in the sewers," Aizawa said and Shinso scrunched his nose before sitting on the couch as well.

"Gross," he said. Aizawa hummed in agreement as he continued to flip through the holiday movies. A spoon clattered around the ceramic mugs as Hizashi stirred the coco powder. It was quiet and cozy. The cat purred as she jumped onto the couch, forcing her way onto Shinso's lap, though he gave no resistance. Aizawa had donned his Christmas pajamas as well. It was the plaid pants with a solid top. It was simple but still festive.

Hizashi's still won if it was a competition. Nothing could beat the bells.

"We pick a movie yet?" Hizashi asked as he somehow managed to set the three mugs down on the coffee table.

"I think so," Aizawa said. "Have you seen this one yet?"

"No," Shinso said.

"Oh, boy!" Hizashi said, getting cozy on the couch next to his husband, mug in hand and smile from ear to ear. "You're in for a treat!"

Shinso knew he would be. He grabbed his mug and settled back doing his best not to disturb the cat. The home was warm, the Christmas tree in the corner making the room feel a little smaller. Music played from the TV as the movie started. Decorations were hung with care around the apartment. Shinso couldn't remember a time he had felt so festive. It had been so long since he really had the "Christmas Spirit."

It was nice to have it back.

And he had two dads to thank for it.

Chapter Text

He hid in his closet, door locked tight. Shinso squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath. His foster father's fist continued to pound on the door to his room. He didn't know what he'd done to upset the man, but maybe if he hid...

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP!

Shinso's whole body tensed in anticipation. His stomach twisted and bile crept up his throat. Cold fear was rushing through his veins as he waited for the man to break the door down again.

BANG!

The thunder roared and shook the glass in its panes, and shook Shinso from his sleep. The cat jumped and ran as he bolted upright in bed. He sat, dazed and confused with his eyes wide trying to see into the black darkness of his room. He tried to catch his breath as he sat. Shinso rubbed his chest, discomforted by the pounding heart.

Lightening flashed, lighting the room up like daylight for half a moment. Shinso flinched when the thunder crashed over head.

"Just a storm," he mumbled to himself quietly. He watched the rain strike the window with the wind whistling past the apartment. Lightening flashed and flashed with the thunder rumbling and rolling into one long roar.

He looked around the bed for the cat, not realizing she had run for cover until a flash of lightening showed his door was now wide open. Shinso never fully closed his door, opting to leave it cracked just a bit. Eaves dropping was a habit he was trying to break.

Trying.

Shinso lay back down, facing the window. Once more.the blanket was pulled up around his shoulders. He watched the lightening flash and listened to the storm. He lay there and waited for the storm and the rain to soothe him to sleep. Thunderstorms were lullabies to him. Slowly, his eyes started to close and his mind started to drift.

BANG!

Shinso flinched hard at the sound. He took a deep breath and tried to relax. He started to drift again, slowly falling asleep.

BANG!

He flinched again and scowled. He rolled over and put his pillow over his head. It didn't work. He tried to just ride it out but the storm didn't let up. Shinso tried to get back to sleep. But no matter what he did, the storm scared him awake.

It was close, roaring overhead. It was too close for comfort. It was starting to make him nervous and Shinso swallowed nervously before jolting again, instinctively curling inward, as though avoiding a blow. His heart was pounding again so he took a deep breath.

Shinso wasn't scared, no way!

Shinso: hey are you up

He definitely didn't send the text to Kaminari because he was scared. He was just bored and trying to see if his boyfriend was up.

He had to stop himself from ducking under the covers when another clap damn near scared him out of his skin.

Shinso couldn't figure it out and was getting increasingly frustrated. Storms were supposed to comfort him, not scare him. So why was he jumping and flinching? He took a breath. He was fine. Shinso was safe. It's just thunder. Maybe it was the nightmare.

He settled back into bed, actually able to use the pillow now. He turned away from the window this time. Maybe that would help.

With one more flash of lightening, the tell tale hiss and silence announced the power outage. The lights from the neighboring apartments disappeared. The light from his clock dimmed to nothing. His phone lit up in the charger as though he had unplugged it.

Shinso sighed in defeat.at least tomorrow was Saturday.

But what he didn't expect was to hear a voice.

"Damn."

Someone was awake. Slowly, Shinsou sat up, brows furrowed in thought. He couldn't tell if it was Hizashi or Aizawa. He sat and listened a little longer, hoping to hear more.

Lightening continued to flash and he flinched, clapping his hands over his ears to muffle the crashing thunder at was making his bones rattle. He waited, taking a deep breath before lowering his hands. The wind and rain continued to slap against the window, and the room was still dark. He rose from his bed, curious as to who was up. He slipped his phone in his pocket, unsurprised by the lack of a text back. The floor boards creaked quietly under his feet and he heard no further noise from whoever was awake. There was a quiet, muffled rumble of thunder in the distance as he stepped into the hall. A faint glow of light flicked on in the kitchen and Shinso put a hand on the wall to guide him. The light wasn't much, just enough. He could hear someone shuffling around. It was probably Aizawa, he guessed. Hizashi was probably still at the radio station. But then again, Azaiwa had been exhausted from the week. At this point, he could probably sleep through the apocalypse. Maybe Hizashi had come home early. Shinso paused and started to reach for his phone. He hadn't thought to check the time. He very well could have slept through Hizashi coming home. Lightening and thunder flared and roared at once and Shinso, startled, bolted towards the light. His heart was in his throat, not even thinking about what he was running from. He swung around the corner into the kitchen and promptly stepped on the cat's tail. "Ahh!" Shinso shouted, startled by the cat's shriek, and he stumbled. "AH!" Hizashi let out a yelp, further startling Shinso. The boy flailed out, desperate to grab anything that would keep him from falling. he grabbed the back of a chair and took it down with him. It scraped against the tile, bumped against the table. It was noisy and difficult to see and it only lasted seconds. Shinso groaned from his spot on the floor and blinked. The chair was lifted off him and righted as he slowly sat up. "You alright?" Hizashi asked quietly, stooping to his level. "Yeah," Shinso grunted before rubbing the back of his neck. He hoped Hizashi couldn't see his embarrassment. "Sorry for startling you." "No harm, no foul, ya dig?" Hizashi assured. He stuck out a hand and with a grateful smile, Shinso took it. Hizashi helped him to his feet and Shinso opened his mouth to thank him. Thunder rocked through them before he could speak. Hizashi jolted a bit and Shinso all but jumped, his hands clinging to Hizashi's arm, staring at the window like someone would break through it. The two stood there, letting the thunder roll and Hizashi looked at Shinso with something akin to a playfully smug look. The teen flushed and stepped back like Hizashi was a hot stove. "Sorry," he mumbled, rubbing his hands on his pajama pants. He refused to look at his foster dad, but Hizashi just chuckled. Shinso cleared his throat and shifted the conversation. "Didn't realize you were home." "Yup," Hizashi said before turning back to the counter. "Set up the queue and I got out while I could. Man, it's a mess out there." Shinso flinched a bit at the clap of thunder and grimace. "I noticed," he mumbled. "Guess neither of you could sleep, either," Aizawa said from the doorway, hair a mess and eyes red from sleep. He let out a big yawn. "Did we wake you?" Hizashi asked as he pulled out two mugs. Aizawa simply hummed and shuffled into the kitchen, joining them and the little lit lantern on the table. The man dropped into a chair and leaned his face in his hands. Shinso lingered on the edge of the light, still mortified. "Well, you both are lucky I put enough water in this thing," Hizashi beamed as he lifted the kettle. "It just started boiling when the power cut out. Do either of you want tea?" "Yeah," Aizawa grunted. Shinso hesitated and Hizashi rose his brows, waiting for a response. Shinso chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment, embarassment growing a bit. "Could I.." he cleared his throat. "Do we still have hot chocolate?" "Ooh," Hizashi said, swinging open the cabinet, "good question. I might have some, too.:" "Make me some," Aizawa said. Shinso was surprised for a brief moment that they both ditched tea so quickly, but then a second passed and he remembered who exactly these two were. They weren't badass, super serious heroes or teachers right now. They were two dads fostering an angsty teenager with a grumpy cat who had been woken up by a thunderstorm. "Where's the cat?" Aizawa asked. "I thought I heard her pitch a fit." "Oh, she's run off somewhere," Hizashi said dismissively with a waive of his hand. "She tried to kill Shinso a minute ago." "So that's what happened," Aizawa said with a small, tired grin. He eyed Shinso and found the teen almost zoning out, lost in his thoughts. Aizawa was about to say something but lightening lit up the space, only for thunder to shake them all up. The three of them all jumped or jolted. But one of them seemed a bit more startled than the others. Aizawa flicked his eyes over Shinso. He saw the almost strained look on the kid's face as he stared at the window. He watched Shinso swallow thickly and rub his chest, a thoughtless motion. "Another nightmare?" he asked. Shinso's startled eyes snapped to him and he took a moment to register the question. With his eyes cast downward in something like same, Shinso nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Wanna talk about it?" Hizashi asked gently as he handed him his mug. "Not really," Shinso said. He paused for a moment before adding: "If that's alright." "It's fine," Aizawa said as he rose from his seat. "This is the third this week. You should consider seeing someone for them." "Like a therapist?" Shinso asked, screwing up his face like he swallowed something bitter. He followed Aizawa to the living room where the man made himself comfortable on the couch, sitting right in the middle. "Can't hurt," Hizashi said. He set his mug and the lantern down on the end table before giving Shinso an encouraging smile. "I used to see mine every-AHH!" Everyone jumped as the cat shot out from under the couch, crashing into Hizashi's leg on the way. The cat darted off into the darkness once more as Hizashi crashed down onto the couch. Lightening flashed and Shinso could have sworn he saw her tail slip under the chair. His lip twitched into a small smile. the thunder was a low, more pleasant rumble this time. This was the thunder he liked. "Damn cat," Hizashi huffed as he sat up and adjusted himself indignantly. "I swear she hates me!" "Probably," Aizawa smirked into his hot chocolate. "Hey," he said as Hizashi elbowed him. Shinso watched them fondly as he joined them, sitting on the other side of Aizawa. He was glad they were awake. The nightmares at night were enough to rattle him and they were getting more and more realistic. They had been keeping him up all hours, occasionally bumping into one of his new dads on the way to or from the kitchen. They would pass each other like ships in the night, shuffling towards their destinations, each desperate for sleep. Shinso was embarrassed at the slight flinch from the sudden clap of thunder. He knew Aizawa could feel it and was grateful he didn't say anything. But Aizawa did hum and raise a brow when Shinso flinched again. He watched the teen scramble to both pull out his phone and not spill his drink, quite an impressive feat. He tapped his screen and a smile graced his lit-up face. Kaminari: dude this storms crazy Shinso: I know. we're all up Kaminari: thot the world was ending Shinso: lol not yet Kaminari: good i dont think i can take another crisis this semsester Shinso: yeah your grades are bad enough Kaminari: that such a low blow T.T Shinso chuckled at the exchange. He was typing out his response and thunder clapped, startling him into hitting send a bit too soon. He swore under his breath and shot out a quick apology and bid him goodnight. Maybe texting his boyfriend wasn't the best right now. Besides, they both needed sleep. Aizawa watched as Shinso leaned back, stuffing his phone back in his pocket. He could tell by the smile who he was text and he sipped his drink. He could practically feel Hizashi staring and indulged him with a knowing look. The blonde beamed and bit back a laugh. He forced some of his drink down his throat and settled in next to his husband. The three sat on the couch, listening to the storm. Over time, the hot chocolates were drank, mugs abandoned on the tables. The cat eventually curled up in Shinso's lap. Thunder rumbled in the distance as the wind slowly started to ease up. They were warm, and they were comfortable and they were safe. With a soft thump against his shoulder, Aizawa glanced with a quiet hum. Shinso had fallen asleep. The man smiled fondly. On one shoulder, his foster child slept. On his other shoulder, his husband rested, nodding off. The cat purred under Shinso's still hand. Aizawa leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He let out a long, contented sigh. This is nice, he thought to himself and slowly, he too began to drift. Unfortunately, soon after, right as he fell asleep, the power came back on. And Hizashi had this unfortunate habit of leaving on every light in the apartment.