Chapter Text
The children were running through the dark alley.
They needed to get away.
“Deku, come on!”
“S-sorry, K-Kacchan,” Izuku panted. His lungs were burning, his side hurt, because of the exhausting running and an injury.
“’s fine,” Katsuki answered between hitched breaths. He couldn’t even see where they were running. The heavy rain, the dark and the fact, that he was running on a fever, messed with his vision. He just kept running, dragging Izuku with him, hoping to get somewhere.
…
The kids weren’t exactly faster than Shota, but they were what they were: Kids. Shota shouldn’t have a hard time keeping up, but he had. The kids were smart and small and had tricked the underground hero more than once.
When Shota had come across the two boys for the first time roughly two months ago, they were hiding in a dark corner of an alley, clinging to each other under a tattered tarp, that did a poor job at providing shelter from the rain.
Since then, Shota tried to get the children to come with him. It was frustrating and nearly ridiculous, how two small children constantly slipped through the fingers of an proficient underground pro hero.
Two weeks ago, he had tried to use his capture weapon and indeed had caught the smaller kid with the dark green hair. The moment the child had been restraint and fallen to the ground, the other boy immediately had wheeled around and lunged at Shota. The pro hero hadn’t expected such a bold move and was taken by surprise. The child had jumped at his face and blasted an explosion. Aside from the sudden heat, it had been nowhere near dangerous or serious, but it had done the trick. The hero had let go of the small child and they escaped. After that they got smarter and were hiding mostly at night.
The boys were giving him constant worries and headache. The weather lately was terrible. It was getting colder with autumn slowly giving way for winter and it rained so much, Shota seriously started to believe someone’s weather quirk had gone haywire.
And out there, in the rainy, dark city, alone, cold, probably hungry and hurt were two kids, who were somehow forgotten by the world. Tsukauchi and Shota had gone through all missing child reports and while the sheer number of such reports was scary, none matched the two boys.
After another patrol, Shota strolled back into his home. Soaked wet, freezing and incredibly frustrated and worried.
“No luck?” Hizashi asked, even though he already knew the answer. If his husband were successful, he wouldn’t come back alone. Every night Hizashi made sure their guestroom was ready. They had bought some basic children’s clothes, stuffed animals, sweets and hot cocoa. They wanted to be as ready as they could when Shota would bring the kids home. From past encounters, Shota had figured, that it would be impossible to get the kids near a police station, much less an orphanage.
Shota sighed defeated and beelined for the bathroom. After a hot shower and changing into dry clothes he slumped down on the sofa in the living room. Hizashi already waited with two big mugs of tea. Wordlessly Shota leaned onto him, when Hizashi wrapped an arm around him to pull him even closer.
“It’s so cold outside…” he said in a quiet voice.
“I know…” Hizashi didn’t know how to comfort his husband. At first, he had tried to cheer up Shota.
The kids would be fine.
They’re clever.
Maybe they found shelter.
But none of that worked anymore. It was getting colder with every day and Shota told him, he basically could watch how the Little Listeners lost weight with every passing day. Every morning they hoped not to get awaken by Tsukauchi, who informed them that it was too late. And every night they hoped that Shota would at least see them, just to know, that the little ones hadn’t disappeared.
“I want to help them so much,” Shota muttered and nipped at his tea. “They looked so afraid.”
“If somebody can bring those Little Listeners home, that it’s you, Sho, I know you got this,” Hizashi answered. “And then everything’ll be alright.”
…
Somewhere in a small back alley, Katsuki and Izuku were hiding in a dumpster. It was dirty, reeked and everything but comfortable, but at least they were out of the rain.
“You should try to get some sleep,” Katsuki mumbled, while he tried to fold a dirty card box, and shoved it behind Izuku’s back, to shield his body from the cold metal of the container.
“Ka-Kacchan, you’re f-feverish,” Izuku’s voice was small and tired.
“Shut up, nerd, I’m fine, but you need sleep,” he tried to snap. He knew his usual cocky manner would give Izuku safety, like everything was fine, but he failed. He sounded exhausted and defeated. “It’s that hobo’s fault! Why can’t he leave us alone?” Katsuki cursed. Izuku shifted his half-sitting position. Two days ago, he got hurt, when they were running away from some creepy assholes, and he fell badly. Izuku had tried to hide it, but Katsuki could see how he was favoring his left side. Katsuki himself was in a similar bad state. Because Izuku was right. He had caught a fever. But he couldn’t be weak. He needed to go on. He had to protect Izuku.
“He s-says h-he wants to h-help us…” Izuku mumbled.
“I know, they always say that,” Katsuki said with a bitter edge.
“I-I don’t w-wanna go b-back.”
“You won’t, Deku, I’ll not let that happen.”