Chapter Text
The warmth of the travel mug seeped into his chilly fingers. Shouta had woken up with cold hands, having accidentally left his window open (like an idiot) the night before, and then forgotten to turn the heating on (like an idiot) when he got up. Because of course he had.
Even after an hour awake and moving around, his hands still hadn’t warmed up. With a sigh, he’d resigned himself to a day of sloppy handwriting and suffering.
Regardless, he still had things to do—including delivering a textbook he’d ‘permanently borrowed’ from UA. His neighbour's kid had been asking him far too many questions at far too early in the morning, so Shouta hoped that providing them with some real information would stave off their curiosity. At least that way he wouldn’t have to acknowledge how soft he was for them, and how even if he had to try and remember his high school psychology education at 8am, he didn’t really mind.
Reaching into his messenger bag, he pulled out the book, knocking on the door. It opened a couple inches, a sliver of the kid’s face visible, and then they were unlatching the door and grinning up at him.
“You brought it?” they asked, hands already grasping at the pages. He handed it over, not bothering to answer, the kid already flicking through it. Shouta hovered in the doorway, watching their eyes catch on the words every now and then, the unspoken buzz of excitement that had them rocking onto the balls of their feet.
Just as he was about to excuse himself, the kid stilled, looking back up at him. Their gaze fell away a moment later, uttering a quiet ‘thank you’. Shouta frowned.
“When’d you want it back?” they asked, eyes still trained on their feet.
“You keep it, kid.”
“Really?” Then they were beaming once more, arms wrapped around his waist in a crushing hug. “Thank you so much!”
Shouta chuckled, letting the beginnings of a smile seep into his expression, the warmth in his chest worth far more than the consequences of his ‘borrowing’. Nedzu had pointed out his habit of stealing things after his last haul (two fresh notebooks, a box of pens in various colours, two pads of sticky notes). His offer to pay had been shot down though, and Nedzu made it clear he didn’t really mind.
The principal had always liked him, knew him better than most, and understood that Shouta was only taking things to help the kids. And if his acknowledgement of that was dripping with a thinly veiled threat that if that changed, he would regret it very quickly? Well, Shouta wasn’t going to say anything.
He ruffled the kid’s hair and they darted back, rushing to undo his meddling. He snorted lightly, the kid’s tiny scowl reminding him of Oboro’s disgruntled glare every time Hizashi had done the same thing to them when they were kids.
“Alright, I’m going,” he stated, gently pushing the kid back within the bounds of their house, “happy reading.”
They thanked him again, disappearing back inside. Shouta stuck around to hear the latch click shut, then made his way out of the building and to the train station.
The journey was mostly uneventful, the highlight being the greeting he’d exchanged with his old boss, who’d been opening up the bookshop he’d worked at after he’d left college. Shouta had been at a loss about what he should do back then, still fresh to the neighbourhood and without his desire to teach yet. Working at the bookshop had been his gateway to meeting all the locals, the shop often operating as more of a library than a bookshop.
At first, working there had been nothing more than a way to earn enough to pay rent, just a means to an end. But Naomasa Tsukauchi didn’t do half-measures… there were no ‘just work friends’, no ‘acquaintances’—and it certainly didn’t help that his boss had an uncanny ability to tell truths from lies either. He’d attributed it to the few years he’d spent in the police force, but Shouta was fairly sure he actually had some supernatural power.
So what started out as a job turned into reluctant friendship, then into companionship. Naomasa had taken his compliance as a go ahead to let the rest of the locals befriend him too. So here Shouta was, getting called to in the street by people he could’ve sworn he’d never met.
But other than that brief meeting, he hadn’t seen anyone of interest on his way to UA. He texted Oboro, reminding him to put his laundry on when they woke up. Oboro had been asleep when he left, but it was likely he’d wake up when the sun found its way into their room. The night before had been particularly long for him, Shouta only hearing him coming home about ten minutes before his own alarm went off.
He’d called out to them in the darkness of the house when he heard him shuffling past, getting a groggy ‘mornin’ in reply. Shouta sent another message, telling him about the food he’d left in the fridge, with reheating instructions.
With that task down, he sunk back into his seat, watching the landscape blur past through the window. There wasn’t much to see, just concrete and grey skies, but he found himself transfixed nonetheless. When the train came to a halt, he had to take a second to right himself, shaking his head to rid it of haze and taking a swig of coffee. Maybe he was more tired than he thought.
The gates of UA were just as grand as always, but much less impressive—less intimidating at least—than they had been when he was a student there. He found his way through the grass-lined paths of UA’s front lawn easily, barely paying attention as he observed the people milling around the school grounds instead.
There was a pair of students he recognised from his homeroom class, sitting on a bench with matching grins. Over there, rounding the corner, was Nemuri, who he considered saying hello to before deciding he wasn’t caffeinated enough yet. Nem had a habit of trying to get gossip out of him, despite his insistence that he had no gossip, and it was draining at the best of times. Walking into the entrance was the quickly receding form of Nedzu, who seemed to be talking animatedly to someone in front of him.
Shouta froze. Was that…?
Worn leather. Sunlit hair stained gold.
Nope. He shook his head, closing his eyes. He was clearly losing his mind. Because there was absolutely no way that he just saw who he thought he did. There were other tall, blond men that had many, many more reasons to be at a highschool than…
Than Yamada Hizashi.
God, Oboro would’ve laughed so hard at him if they knew what Shouta had just done.
He smiled to himself, settling back into the peace he’d been sucked into all morning. He was definitely much more tired than he thought. Besides, even if he had seen Hizashi, he probably wasn’t there to talk to him. Not when he’d stopped talking to him years ago. It didn’t matter if he was here, because Shouta no longer felt anything but mild to severe regret when thinking about Hizashi.
Plus, Nedzu would save him from having to interact with his high school crush turned heartbreaker turned ex-best friend. If Hizashi was here, he was protected from ever having to know about it. In fact, Nedzu would never betray him by letting Hizashi back into UA anyway, not when he knew their history, about Hizashi cutting off contact.
Yeah, he thought, taking a seat in his classroom, there was no way that he’d seen Hizashi. Shouta took a seat at his desk, checking the time and trying to decide whether or not he had time to find a snack. Nemuri had probably restocked the cupboard with the good kind of biscuits she imported from—
“Shouta?”