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Hitoshi woke up to a finger being prodded into his cheek. And then another, and another when he refused to open his eyes. He knew what day today was. He knew little kids loved to wake up early, too excited to stay in bed while their presents sat only a living room away. But whatever time Eri decided Christmas needed to start at was way too early.
So, without fully waking up, too warm in his cocoon of blankets, Hitoshi lifted all three of them and let Eri shuffle into his bed. He grunted as a clumsy foot kicked into his stomach as she settled in.
“Did Sensei send you back to bed?” Hitoshi yawned, resting his chin on top of her head as she stole one of his blankets.
“He said Santa hasn’t been yet.”
Hitoshi smiled, trying to not laugh at the excuse.
“If you go back to sleep, maybe he’ll come quicker.”
“That’s what Mr Easerhead said.”
“Well, he’s usually right. So, sleep.” He began to pet her hair, hoping that the soothing motion would lull her back to sleep.
Though, it was evident by her fidgeting, that nothing Hitoshi did was going to work.
“Hitoshi?” Eri sat up and whispered into his ear.
“Hmm?”
“Do you think Santa has been yet?” Eri asked. “It’s been ten minutes.”
Hitoshi struggled not to laugh and buried his face into his pillow.
“Hitoshi.” He could tell by her tone she was pouting at him. He peeked open one eye and found that it was true, which grew larger now that she saw him awake.
“Alright, let’s go get Sensei and Yamada.” Hitoshi sat up and swung his legs over the bed, thankful for the thick socks he was wearing. A chill tore through him; he was already missing his warm bed.
“Let’s go, Hitoshi.” Eri held onto his hand, almost dragging him from his room. Whatever happened to the shy little girl he once knew?
Aizawa and Yamada’s room was only across the hall from Hitoshi’s, and he could already see that their room was still dark from the door that had been left ajar.
Hitoshi popped his head into the room and saw both men asleep, Yamada happily snoring away. He flicked the lights off and on, not to startle them.
“Eri, Santa hasn’t been yet,” Aizawa mumbled into his pillow.
“She thinks otherwise,” Hitoshi said, amused.
“It’s been a whole hour,” Eri pouted as she climbed up to onto the bed. Hitoshi doubted it’d been that long since she'd tried to wake them up, but who were they to argue with a seven-year-old? And after all, this was only her second Christmas, she deserved to be excited about it.
“You fetched reinforcements?” Aizawa asked as he popped his head up and saw Hitoshi standing by the door.
“She came into my room when you sent her back into her’s.” Hitoshi made his way to the bed and sat on the corner, not quite comfortable enough to scoot closer, but also uncomfortable just hovering over them. He’d only been living with Aizawa and Yamada since August. He didn’t want to overstep any boundaries.
Aizawa simply looked at Eri who was sitting on his hip, her lips fully pouting and her eyes as big and watery as she could make them. She’d learnt the art of begging after spending a night with Class 1-A, though no one would admit who taught her such a thing. But it was apparent that Aizawa couldn’t resist it.
So, instead, he plucked Eri up from her perch and shoved her under the blankets with him, covering her completely before going back to sleep.
“He hasn’t been,” he said, closing his eyes.
Eri giggled from under the sheets. Hitoshi watched as an Eri sized lump scuttled around, pushing up against the blankets as she tried to escape.
“Shou, are you smothering our kid?” Yamada asked as he slotted his hearing aids in and turned them on. Hitoshi tried not to laugh at his wonky moustache on his top lip.
“We’re all sleeping,” Shouta mumbled, refusing to both open his eyes and let Eri out from her blanket prison.
Yamada cast a conspiratorial glance at Hitoshi, before grabbing his phone from the bedside table. He squinted at the screen as it flashed to life and barked a tired laugh at the time.
“I guess Christmas is starting at seven.”
Aizawa grumbled as Eri finally broke free, her hair springing in all directions now.
“Come on, Mr Eraserhead.” Eri pushed at his shoulder, her pout growing bigger by the second.
“Yeah, come on, Sensei.” Hitoshi joined in; a smirk plastered on his face.
“Don’t you start.” Aizawa pointed a finger at him before he finally relented and stood up. “Hizashi.”
“Shou can’t start Christmas without his coffee,” Yamada said as he got up.
“So, the same as every morning?” Hitoshi smiled as he followed Yamada out into the living room. It was grotesquely decorated. There was far too much tinsel and none of the ornaments matched, but that’s what they got when they left a seven-year-old in charge of picking out what went on the tree.
“You’re one to speak,” Aizawa grumbled, ruffling Hitoshi’s hair before he plopped himself down onto the floor next to the presents and Christmas tree. Eri slid in next to him, her eyes glued to the shiny bows stuck on top of every present.
Hitoshi sat himself down on the sofa, curled up onto its corner and pulled a blanket around his shoulders. He was content to watch Eri as she ripped all the paper off every gift.
“Stockings first!” Yamada called out as he came into the living room and handed Aizawa a large cup of sugary coffee. He was rewarded with a soft ‘thanks’, and a kiss on his cheek. Hitoshi warmed at the sight. While other teenagers might be embarrassed or disgusted by their parent's show of affection towards each other, Hitoshi loved seeing this side of Yamada and Aizawa. It felt private, and yet they did it so unabashedly in front of himself and Eri.
They all got a stocking each, full of gag presents and little nick-nacks. Though, the whole room burst into laughter when Aizawa pulled out a lump of coal from his own stocking. Yamada laughed the loudest.
“Hilarious,” Aizawa said, his tone and expression stone. The coal left little smudges of black soot on his fingertips. A devilish smile split across his face as he turned to Yamada.
“Don’t you dare, Shouta.” Yamada was still laughing as he sat up on the sofa, his legs braced to run.
And then he was off. Aizawa right after him. Hitoshi and Eri glanced into the kitchen and watched as Aizawa wrapped an arm around Yamada’s waist and flung him up off his feet as he smeared his hand over Hizashi’s face, leaving black smudges all over his moustache and mouth.
“Shou, you bastard!” Hizashi wiggled himself free, grabbed a tea towel and begin to wash himself free from the soot. Aizawa said nothing, though with the smug look on his face he clearly wasn’t sorry. He looked like the cat that got the cream, which was an English saying Hitoshi had learnt from Mic, one he thought fit Aizawa so well when he got playful like this. “You’re ruining Christmas.” Yamada whipped the tea towel at Aizawa’s arm, his own smile wobbling as he pretended he wasn’t smiling.
“A pity. Guess I can go back to bed.” Aizawa moved towards his bedroom.
“You mother-. Go sit down.” Mic pushed Aizawa back into the living room, before vanishing into the bathroom to wash his face.
“Happy?” Hitoshi asked as Aizawa sat back into his spot.
“Extremely.” Aizawa smirked.
And without further interruptions, they pulled out the rest of their stockings. Eri got a set of glittery hair-ties, and Hitoshi got the ugliest cat keyring.
“Time for presents!” Yamada shouted once the stockings were empty.
Eri clapped her hands together before she dug into the pile under the tree. Hitoshi tried to suppress a giggle at her enthusiasm. The first gift didn’t last long as the paper flew across the room. It was a box of hero action figures, a set of four Pussy Cats and a multitude of gadgets and outfit changes. Eri gasped, and almost squashing her face against the plastic window.
Both Mic and Aizawa were watching her with soft, warm smiles on their faces. It’d taken months to get Eri to accept toys and gifts. But with each present she had, she learnt that they nothing to fear, that nothing bad was going to happen to her if she accepted the gift. Hitoshi wasn’t there for the beginning of that journey but watching as she pulled out each of the action figures carefully as she marvelled at their glittery costumes, Hitoshi couldn’t help but smile too. She’d come a long way.
“Hitoshi.” His name pulled him out of his thoughts, and he turned to find both Yamada and Aizawa watching him with curious, but excited looks on their faces.
“What?” He asked, curling his knees into his chest, feeling a little overwhelmed with the attention.
“Well, how are you going to open your presents from up there?” Yamada asked, beaming at whatever expression Hitoshi pulled.
“Me?” He blinked at the both of them before his eyes fell to a pile of presents that Eri hadn’t touched.
“Yeah, kiddo. It’s Christmas. Everyone gets presents.”
Hitoshi looked between them both before he unfolded himself from the sofa and slowly made his way to the gifts. He sat cross-legged and pulled the first box into his lap, his eyes widening at the nametag that read ‘Hitoshi,’ with little scribbled of stars and cats on them.
“Are these really for me?” Hitoshi asked, trying to cover the crack in his voice with a well-placed cough. He eyed the gifts, spotting at least four different size boxes.
“Of course. You have fewer presents than Eri, but that’s just because they’re a little more expensive,” Aizawa said as he collected the left-over paper from Eri’s raid.
Hitoshi didn’t care about many presents there were. He couldn’t believe the four sitting in his lap were his to start with.
“I’m a little old for Christmas presents,” Hitoshi said quietly, his tongue thick in his mouth.
“Well, I get presents and I’m thirty-one,” Aizawa said and pointed to a gift hidden under the tree that read his name.
Hitoshi looked down at the presents, his ears burning and his eyes watering. He didn’t know what to say. It’d been a long time since he’d been given a Christmas present. He didn’t even think that Aizawa and Yamada would give him one. Not that he thought they would maliciously not give him anything, but surely Eri was more important? She was a little kid, and little kids loved Christmas. And Eri hadn’t even heard of Christmas before she moved to U.A, surely this was the time to make sure she had the best Christmas any kid could hope for?
“If you want to open them later, that’s fine too,” Aizawa said, his expression honest and sincere.
“I didn’t get anyone anything,” Hitoshi mumbled, guilt sitting fat in his stomach.
“Save your money on yourself, kiddo. We don’t need presents.” Yamada reached forward and patted Hitoshi’s knee. “Today is all about the pair of you.” Yamada gestured to Eri, who was watching with an encouraging smile while holding a Tiger action figure in her hand, almost as though she knew this talk and if she could do it, then so could he.
“Okay.” Hitoshi gulped and held the biggest box a little tighter to his stomach, almost hunching over it as he blinked back tears.
“You know, there’s a cooler gift than a box inside, kiddo.”
“Hizashi. Give him time.”
Hitoshi nodded but didn’t move an inch. He could hear Eri as she went back to her presents and gushed over every single item she got with quiet enthusiasm.
“I could have gotten her avocados and the kid would be happy,” Aizawa grumbled with amusement.
“Shouta.” He heard Yamada playfully slap Aizawa’s arm. “You’re such a spoil-sport, man.”
“I would love an avocado,” Eri piped up, her voice high and curious. She probably didn’t understand they were joking.
“Maybe we’ll pick some up during the week. You’ve got so many yummy foods to eat today!”
“Candy apples?” Eri asked hopefully.
“Even better stuff,” Yamada promised. “Brussels sprouts.” Much to Eri’s delight.
“Disgusting,” Aizawa said under his breath.
Hitoshi laughed as Yamada berated Aizawa, before he wiped at his eyes, glad that he hadn’t actually cried on Christmas.
“You okay?” Aizawa leant down and whispered to him.
Hitoshi nodded as he began to open the gift, trying not to tear the ‘Present Mic’ wrapping paper. He couldn’t help his jaw-dropping as he pulled out a large red and white box. He instantly knew what they had gotten him.
“You guys…” Hitoshi’s voice was barely a whisper as his eyes were glued wide to the Nintendo Switch sitting in his lap.
“Surprise!” Yamada shouted.
“I was saving up for one…” Hitoshi said as he ran his hand over the box. He’d been doing small jobs for the teachers around campus (since they weren’t allowed to leave U.A grounds without a teacher present, and Hitoshi didn’t think he was allowed to have Midnight or Present Mic follow around at work). He’d been saving every single yen he could spare for the last year, his heart set out on the gaming system.
“Well, now you can use all that hard-earned cash for something else.” Yamada was practically glowing, bouncing in his seat.
“You’d think he’d gotten it considering how excited he is.” Aizawa jested as he bumped shoulders with Hitoshi. “I had to take it from him so he wouldn’t play it before you got the chance.”
“I had to test it!” Yamada exclaimed.
“Mmh.” Aizawa gave him an unimpressed face.
Hitoshi smiled as he held the box in his lap, not able to take his eyes off it.
“Thank you,” he whispered, afraid that his voice would break again if he tried to be louder. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome,” Aizawa said with a soft smile. “Just make sure you share with Eri.”
“Of course. Yeah, I would anyway.”
“I know, you’re a good kid.”
Hitoshi eyes burned again, the letters on the box warping into one giant blur.
“And me! I want the chance to kick Shou’s ass at Mario Kart!”
“It has Mario Kart?” Hitoshi asked, using his sleeve to dab at his eyes.
Aizawa gave Yamada a pointed look.
“Ah, well, maybe.” Yamada rubbed at the back of his neck. “You’ll have to open your other presents to find out, huh little listener?”
Hitoshi laughed as he opened the rest of his presents, all of them being games for the new console. And that included Mario Kart.
The rest of the morning consisted of watching Eri open the last remaining presents. Hitoshi had never seen someone so excited over socks. Though, he was sure none of them were expecting her to almost squeal in delight as she pulled out a Lemillion costume, cape and all.
“Can I put it on, please?” Eri asked, jumping up and down in front of Aizawa, who nodded and led her back to her room to change.
“I didn’t know Lemillion had merch yet,” Hitoshi said. The rising hero had broken into the top one hunred almost immediately. He was swarmed by adoring fans as soon as he graduated. His bad jokes only seemed to spur his popularity, though Hitoshi didn’t understand why. They really were terrible.
“They’re not out for another couple of months, but your dads have their way.” Yamada winked.
Dads. Hitoshi gulped at the word and ducked his head back to staring at his new console. Yamada said it so easily as if the title didn’t hold weight to it. As if it wasn’t something Hitoshi had been waiting to call someone since he was four.
“Hitoshi,” Yamada called to him softly. Hitoshi glanced at him and froze at the warm, but worried look on Yamada’s face. “Is it okay for us to call ourselves that? I know it’s a little soon, and we hardly know each other, but I really hope-.”
“Looksies!” Eri ran into the room then, her red cape swooshing behind her, and startling them both.
“Wow!” Yamada clapped his hands together. “Looking good, little listener!”
“The future’s gonna be?” Eri put a hand behind her ear.
“Please don’t,” Aizawa grumbled as he sat next to Yamada on the sofa. “I thought I had gotten away from Togata’s awful jokes.”
Hitoshi laughed as Eri continued the joke, regardless of how Aizawa pouted and groaned at the punchline.
“Right, how about some breakfast and then we can get started on dinner!” Yamada slapped both of his knees before he stood.
“Can I help?” Hitoshi asked, already scrambling to his socked feet.
“Why don’t you go play? Shou and I have this all handled.” Yamada grinned at him. “It’s all set up for you.”
“I don’t mind waiting.”
“Kiddo, it’s fine. Christmas is about having fun, so go have it! I’m sure Eri would love to play with you.”
They both looked down at the girl, who was too busy trying to get her cape to float behind her.
“Well, once the excitement wears off a bit.” Yamada ran his hands through Hitoshi’s hair. “Go play. And we’ll finish our talk later.”
Hitoshi leaned into the hand unconsciously. He couldn’t resist it when either Aizawa or Yamada ran their fingers through his hair. It somehow seemed to chase away all the buzzing feelings his anxiety brewed inside his head.
“Okay?” Yamada asked.
“‘Kay.”
Yamada grinned before he patted his shoulder, and then began the tremendous challenge of coercing Aizawa into the kitchen and away from the sofa, where he’d been preparing the pillows, ready for a morning nap.
“Mario Kart?” Hitoshi asked Eri, who had wrapped herself in her cape.
The morning passed with several games of Mario Kart. Hitoshi had to show Eri the ropes and let her win most of the matches. Though, his competitive nature did mean that he couldn’t help but win a few matches against her. There was no guilt as it just seemed to spear Eri on to try harder. And every time he did ‘lose’, Eri would pat his hand as if she was soothing his wounded pride. It was all sorts of ridiculous. Hitoshi couldn’t stop smiling.
The smell of food wafted into the living room, making both Hitoshi’s and Eri’s stomach’s rumble.
“Do you think we’ll be able to have ice cream for afters?” Eri asked, peeking over the back of the sofa and into the open kitchen.
“I think we’ll be too full to even think of ice cream.” Hitoshi had seen Aizawa and Yamada carrying bags and bags of food into the house a couple of days before. They looked ready to feed the whole of U.A.
And it was that moment when there was a knock at the door. Eri gasped and hurried down from the sofa and made a b-line for the door, almost slamming into the back of Yamada’s legs.
“Your favourite person has arrived!” Midnight cheered as she walked in with numerous Christmas bags and a cat carrier hanging from each outspread arm. She was wearing the ugliest jumper Hitoshi had ever seen, and Hitoshi had seen several of Yamada’s.
“Aunt Nem, look at what Santa got me.” Eri beamed as she tugged at her cape, swishing it back and forth.
“What an amazing little hero you are.” Midnight bent down and brought the girl to her chest, almost squeezing the life out of Eri. Thankfully, Eri lived and began to giggle as she tried to work herself free. “Santa sure spoiled you.” Midnight gave Yamada a wonderful knowing look.
Yamada shrugged.
“Looking very handsome, Shinsou.” Midnight winked playfully.
Hitoshi stood there with his wayward bed hair and PJs.
“Clearly,” he said, his expression falling into a neutral deadpan. “Nice jumper. Very dumpster worthy.”
Midnight beamed at him, very much like Yamada would.
“I don’t remember you being so snarky when I last visited,” Midnight jested. It had been a couple of months since her last visit, and it was when Hitoshi had just moved into the place, unsure of the rules and how to act around his teachers in a non-school environment.
Hitoshi shrugged in response; the corners of his lips tugged upwards.
A croaky meow sounded from the car carrier.
“Oh, better let the old man out.” Midnight placed the cat carrier down and opened the gate. And out came an orange tabby with grey flecks and knocks in its ears. Hitoshi instantly fell in love with the red jumper it was wearing. “Sushi loves Christmas.”
“Sushi loves the Christmas dinner I make him and Jelly.”
And at the sound of her name, Jelly trotted into the living room, the fur on the top of her head and her cheeks sticking up, despite being a shorthair. She chirped when she saw Sushi as the elderly cat eyed her warily.
“Clearly best friends,” Hitoshi’s said, smiling as Sushi hurried into the kitchen with Jelly bounding after her. “Reminds me of you and Sensei.”
“Shou and I are the best of friends.” Yamada put an offended hand over his heart.
“Not.” Came Aizawa’s voice from the kitchen. “Nemuri is my best friend.”
“I love you too!” Midnight called out, almost gushing with excitement.
Eri and Hitoshi stifled their giggles at Yamada’s heartbroken face.
“Married for eight years, and for what?” Yamada mumbled under his breath before turning to Hitoshi. “Why don’t you get dressed, and then we can all take a seat at the table. Dinner should be soon.”
Hitoshi nodded, giving Midnight a shy wave before he trotted down the hall.
“Ah, Hizashi, should it be on fire?”
“Shou! I left you for two minutes. I swear, man!”
Hitoshi laughed as he ducked into his room.
Pulling an ugly Christmas jumper (that Hizashi had gotten him,) up and over his head, Hitoshi couldn’t stop the grin that had found a permanent place on his face. He hadn’t celebrated Christmas when he was still jumping from home to home. Somehow, he always ended up back at the centre when it came to the holidays. Christmas was a family holiday after all, especially with the New Year’s right after it, and Hitoshi was never truly part of any of his foster’s family. The paycheck they got from him would be spent on presents and food, before he was packing his bags and slugging it back to the centre.
So, he hadn’t really expected much from Christmas. Not even with Yamada and Aizawa. Though he knew the former enjoyed many Western traditions, and they would celebrate it for Eri’s sake. He just hadn’t expected to be part of it all too.
He rubbed at his eyes again, the quiet pause from the Christmas cheer in the living room gave him time to compose himself. He didn’t need Yamada and Aizawa worrying after him when they should be enjoying themselves.
Entering the kitchen, Hitoshi found his eyes almost popping out of his socket. Plates and plates of food were laid out on the table. Potatoes mashed with mint sauce, sizzling sausages wrapped in bacon, mouth-watering parsnips and carrots, plump Yorkshire puddings, and a boat full of thick gravy.
“Whoa.” He couldn’t stop staring as he found his seat next to where Aizawa normally sat.
“Hizashi went a little overboard.” Aizawa placed another plate of sliced lamb on the table.
“I have a growing family. And you're mister picky, so it’s best to have enough options for everyone,” Yamada said, sliding off the pink oven mitts.
“And what’s a Christmas feast without a little bit of champagne,” Midnight said in a sing-song manner, almost bouncing in her seat next to Eri.
Aizawa rolled his eyes but tipped his empty glass forward. Midnight wasted no time filling it to the brim, so when Aizawa took his first sip it spilt onto his jumper.
“Shou, you big baby.” Yamada came over, a paper towel in hand, and began to wipe Aizawa’s jumper. “That’s brand new. This morning brand new.”
“Stop. I got it.” Aizawa battered him away, a small pout to his bottom lip.
“You’re messier than the kids.” Yamada chastised as he finished cleaning up the spill.
“Stop fussing.” Aizawa took the paper towels from him and threw them onto the kitchen counter.”
“You better hope the cats don’t tear into those.”
“I think they’ll be too round to jump up.” Aizawa gestured to the two cats who were scarfing down their own bowl of turkey and lamb with gravy.
“Hizashi sit down and enjoy your cooking. And some champagne.” Midnight was already filling his glass. Yamada did as he was told.
“Shinsou?” Midnight asked, the champagne tilted in his direction.
“Oh, I’m, uh, underage.” Hitoshi didn’t know why his cheeks were on fire with the idea of drinking. Maybe it was admitting he was too young. Maybe it was the thought of Aizawa and Yamada seeing him drunk.
“Good answer, but it’s Christmas, right Shouta?” Midnight wiggled the bottle.
“One can’t hurt,” Aizawa said with a shrug.
“Really?” Hitoshi spun to stare at him with wide eyes.
“Sure.”
Midnight cheered as she filled Hitoshi glass, though she didn’t let it reach the top like she did with the rest. Hitoshi watched as the bubbles popped inside the glass with excited anticipation brewing inside his stomach.
“Cheers!” They raised their champagne, and Eri her apple juice, clinking their glasses together, before the adults each took a sip from them. Hitoshi couldn’t help but feel some sort of achievement, glad he was mature enough to be drinking with the adults.
Hitoshi took a sip of his own drink. The taste hit him all at once. He quickly spat it back into the glass.
“Hitoshi.” Yamada chastised, though the amusement in his voice was clear.
“Don’t like it?” Aizawa grinned.
Hitoshi grimaced at the taste still in his mouth.
“That’s disgusting.” Hitoshi got up and grabbed a can of pop from the fridge and almost down the entire thing. He was sure he could still taste it on his tongue. “Do you really like that? How?”
The three of them laughed like it was some shared joke. Hitoshi pouted at that. He didn’t want to be the butt of their joke.
“Come sit down, Hitoshi,” Aizawa said through his laughter. “We all did the same thing when we were kids too.”
“I don’t spit-.”
“Not at the table, Nem.” Aizawa quickly stopped her.
“You’ll grow to like it one day, little listener,” Yamada said taking his own sip.
“It’s an acquired taste. If you don’t like it though, we can mix something else with it. It-.”
“No. I’m not going to subject Hitoshi to one of your concoctions.”
“Spoilsport.” Midnight stuck her tongue out at Aizawa.
“Can I try some please?” Eri asked, holding out her glass.
“Oh, how about more apple juice, huh Eri?” Yamada said, grabbing the carton and purring more into Eri’s glass.
The food was finally passed around. Hitoshi piled his plate high with a mixture of everything, balancing it all delicately into a tower of vegetables. He laughed as Aizawa refused to put any sprouts on his plate and pouted at them when Yamada slipped some onto it. The actual toddler of the house ate them with a grin, asking for more once she’d finished her original lot.
They pulled Christmas crackers and placed paper crowns on their heads. Even Aizawa took part in that, wearing a bright pink crown on his curls, and Hitoshi wished he had his phone with him, his class were never going to believe it.
Desert came next, the full feeling Hitoshi originally felt vanished at the sight of a trifle sitting right in front of him.
“Don’t make yourself sick, Eri. You can always have more later,” Aizawa said gently.
Eri looked conflicted as she held the spoon in her hand, the jelly from the trifle wobbling on it.
“One more bite?” She asked, her eyes wide and hopefully, as if Aizawa was going to take it away from her before she had the chance to finish it.
“Okay. One more and then it’ll be in the fridge for when you’re hungry again.”
Eri nodded, smiling at the deal, as she plopped the spoon into her house.
“I should be off. Me and Emi are hitting the drinks tonight.”
“You should have invited her over,” Yamada said casually while glancing at Shouta with a wicked smile.
“No. She’s too intimidating for Eri,” Aizawa said.
“Eri? Bakugo babysits her all the time. If she can handle someone like him, Emi is a piece of cake.” Hizashi elbowed him playfully. “I think you’re the one who’s really intimated by her.”
“You love her really,” Midnight said. “Way, way down. Maybe.”
Aizawa only grumbled under his breath.
“Do you really not like Ms. Joke?” Hitoshi asked, grinning widely. There weren’t many people Aizawa actively grimaced at the name off, the only two Hitoshi could think of was Ms. Joke and All Might.
“You’ll understand when you intern with her next semester,” Aizawa said, though it looked like he was sending up a silent prayer for Hitoshi.
“She can’t be that bad. You married Yamada.”
“Yo! What’s up with the Mic slander today?” Yamada yelled with fake annoyance. There was an amused twinkle behind his glasses. “We having problems, Hitoshi? Huh?” Hizashi crowded around Hitoshi.
“You are a problem.” Aizawa came to Hitoshi’s defence.
“You two!” Yamada wiggled his first finger between Hitoshi and Aizawa, whose aloof and bored looks mirrored each others.
The ‘fight’ was broken up by gift bags being dropped onto the table. Four pairs of curious eyes landed on them.
“I can’t leave without giving my favourite kids their presents!” One by one she passed out the bags to each person.
“We’re hardly kids, Nem,” Aizawa said, though the almost child-like glee in his eyes as he pulled out his present contradicted his statement. It was an ugly shirt that was bright green with pink cats printed on it. However, despite how hideous it was, Aizawa looked at it as though he held his new child born in his hands. “How did…they sold out everywhere.”
“Secret.” Midnight tapped her nose. “Can’t give away all my tricks.”
“Thank you,” Aizawa said almost breathlessly as he ran his fingers over the material.
“He won’t take it off once he puts it on,” Yamada joked.
Hitoshi began to pull out his own present, hoping that it wouldn’t match Aizawa’s ugly new shirt. Instead, there were a pair of expensive headphones sitting in his lap.
“I saw your old pair when I came over last. Do they even work anymore? They looked so busted up.”
Hitoshi could only blink up at her, his mouth hanging open when his words failed him.
“I think you broke him.”
Hitoshi swallowed the thickness in his throat. When he saw his name on the bag, he was expecting something small. Something so he wouldn’t feel left out. He hardly knew Midnight outside of school. She was an important part of Aizawa and Yamada’s live, and he guessed that now he was too, but he didn’t expect this. He didn’t expect her to care about his hobbies and the things he liked and get him something for them.
Hitoshi could only stare at her.
“Hitoshi, you okay, bud?” Yamada squeezed his shoulder.
“Yeah. I’m, uh, it’s great. I’m-.” Hitoshi swallowed again. “Thank you. So much.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, sincerely, before she stood up. “I should be going. I’ll pick up Sushi once the hangover vanishes! Thanks for dinner boys.”
And then she was pulling Aizawa and Hizashi into a tight hug and left twin lipstick marks on their cheeks. And for all the grumbling Aizawa did, Hitoshi saw the small smile on his face as he embraced her back.
Next, she pulled Eri into a big hug, smothering Eri and leaving kisses all over her face. “Merry Christmas, my little superhero.”
And then she stood in front of Hitoshi.
“Merry Christmas, Shinsou.”
“Hitoshi. You can call me Hitoshi…if you want.” And with that said, Hitoshi opened his arms, his eyes glued to the floor as his ears and cheeks turned red.
Midnight hugged him far more gently than she did with the others. Hitoshi’s cheeks grew even hotter with embarrassment as she placed a kiss on his cheek. He never had an auntie before, no less someone who would kiss his cheeks.
“Merry Christmas,” he said softly over her shoulder, almost melting into her hold.
And then Midnight was gone, vanishing into the night with Ms. Joke to cause chaos to whoever they may cross paths with. That left Sushi, her elderly cat, in their care, and more specifically in Hitoshi’s lap. To which Aizawa was currently pouting at, who was normally Sushi’s favourite lap to snuggle on.
“I can bring him over, Sensei.” Hitoshi scratched the cat’s cheek with his finger.
“No. He’s chosen his favourite,” Aizawa grumbled.
“Shou, don’t be such a baby.”
“Sushi is my cat too,” he said under his breath. Hitoshi giggled as he gave the cat another scratch between the ears.
Yamada swatted the back of Aizawa head before he slipped some sort of tape into a machine that was plugged into the tv.
“Can’t we just stream it?” Aizawa asked as Yamada wound back the tape.
“It’s not the same. It has to be VHS.”
The image on TV finally stilled before it began to play. A black and white film came to light, the footage graining and the subtitles almost impossible to read.
“Did you watch this as a kid?” Hitoshi asked, squinting at the screen, trying to match the English words with the subtitles, his brain automatically translating.
Aizawa barked a laugh as Yamada threatened to throw pillows at both Aizawa and Hitoshi.
“What?” Hitoshi asked.
“I’m not that old, Hitoshi!” Yamada huffed.
“It’s a pre-quirk era movie.” Aizawa supplied, looking happy with himself, even though he was the same age as Yamada.
“Oh.”
“It’s black and white, Hitoshi! Do you really think I grew up with black and white tv?”
Hitoshi shrugged.
“I don’t know. You just have a lot of old stuff, thought it was from your childhood.”
Yamada threatened him with the pillow again.
“'Zashi, don’t be such a baby,” Aizawa, the grin on his face was nothing but smug.
“That’s it!” Yamada got up, pillow and all, and threw it at Aizawa, who, obviously, caught it, and cocked one eyebrow challengingly at his husband. In retaliation, Yamada grabbed another and began pelting Aizawa with it.
“Hizashi.” Aizawa laughed and grabbed Yamada’s wrists and pinned them together, locking them in place and almost pulling him into his lap. Though, with a brief look at both Eri and Hitoshi who were watching them, he stopped himself from doing so.
The pair were panting, grins plastered on their face.
“I love you,” Yamada said softly, it was almost too quiet to hear, but even Yamada’s, whispering was loud compared to others. It was probably something that wasn’t supposed to be heard by Hitoshi and Eri, but they had, and Hitoshi felt his heart thump hard in his chest.
Aizawa drew Yamada in for a small kiss. Hitoshi looked away from the private moment, feeling warm and cosy. His other families had never acted like this, it was strange to see a married couple that actually seemed to love each other. Sure, the pair fought, but when they shared moments like this, Hitoshi couldn’t help by melt at the sight.
Finally, They all settled. Yamada came over to sit next to Hitoshi, while Eri climbed up onto Aizawa’s lap (who seemed smug that Eri had picked him, as though she was a cat). The movie was slow and maybe a little dated, but Hitoshi smiled when he saw Yamada miming along with the words.
Christmas had never been like this before. He couldn’t remember if his birth parents celebrated. He didn’t remember any colourful decorations or shinning trees in the living room. So, it was likely that they didn’t do anything for the holidays.
And then there were the various homes and centres he had bounced around. The centres put up trees and some decorations if they were in a nicer area. Though, there were no gifts or big fancy western dinners. It was just another normal day of running away from bullies and feeding the stray cats behind the centre.
The families he’d been with were all different. Some celebrated while others didn’t. Those who did barely extended it to Hitoshi. Maybe he had a gift or two, nothing to remember (though he appreciated anything he’d gotten). He was fine with it all. He’d never celebrated before, so he didn’t know what he was missing. And they were never his family, which was the biggest part of Christmas, or at least that’s what Hitoshi thought. He never woke up on Christmas morning with them either way. Christmas Eve was usually spent packing his things to retreat back to the centre.
He couldn’t help but mourn the years he never had like this, but the feeling was almost drowned out by the urge to cherish these people who had welcomed him into his life. Who had welcomed him into every single aspect of it. He found himself smiling, grateful to be part of it.
“You okay, listener?” Yamada whispered, “you look deep in thought.”
Hitoshi snapped his attention up to Yamada who was watching him with a soft worried crease on his forehead.
“I’m just happy,” Hitoshi whispered, a small smile tugging at his lips.
Yamada beamed at him before he extended the blanket that covered his shoulders. A few months ago, Hitoshi would have been too embarrassed to snuggle up to his new parents, but now, with the low lights and full stomach, Hitoshi went and tucked himself under Yamada's arm. He leant into him as Yamada squeezed him close.
“I’m glad.” Yamada began to run his fingers through Hitoshi’s hair, and if he could purr, he was sure he’d be doing so.
The film ended, and another was put on in its place. This one was in Japanese, and Hitoshi felt his eyelids drooping without needing to concentrate on the words. Instead, his mind wandered to the morning. It was a whirlwind of emotions and Hitoshi felt exhausted just thinking about it. But one moment kept playing on loop in his mind, over and over again, and this time, it didn’t cause a spike of anxiety through his chest.
His eyes drifted over to Aizawa who was passed out, his head tipped back and mouth wide open. Eri was asleep too, curled up in Aizawa’s lap, her cape drawn around her, loosely held together with her small hands. He saw his present sitting next to the tv, and then the gaudy Christmas tree and decorations. And then there were Yamada’s fingers as they gently tugged on a loop of his hair, mindlessly playing with the strands as he watched the tv, oblivious that he was the only one watching.
And with everything that surrounded him, Hitoshi was sure of his next words.
“I’m okay with it,” he said, his voice sounding too loud against the quiet volume of the tv.
“Okay with what? You sleep talking again?” Yamada chuckled as he bent over to look at Hitoshi’s face.
“I’m okay with you guys calling yourselves my dads.”
Yamada’s hand froze in his hair as the smile fell off his face, and a serious but shocked expression took its place.
“Are you sure, Hitoshi? There’s no rushing these things.”
“Yeah,” Hitoshi closed his eyes and buried his face further into Yamada’s side. “I’m sure, dad.”