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Izuku has school in… give or take five hours. Well. Okay. It’s almost 4am and school starts at 8:25 but he has to be ready at around 7:30 so he can actually eat breakfast and usually they leave around 8 and oh god.
First day of high school, with actual real classes with teachers that’ll switch out throughout the day and give him work and homework and things to think about and he’s going to be sleep deprived.
Amazing.
But he can’t stop thinking. What’s even more confusing is he's thinking about good things! Everything going through his head is making his brain flood with serotonin and dopamine and any other possible chemical that makes his skin buzz in the best way possible.
His first major thought of the night, of course, was related to Katsuki. The angry, loud blond that has hands that can create world-shattering explosions but those same hands hold Izuku’s heart oh so delicately.
Izuku has cried about it before, he cried about it now, and he will continue to cry about it every time after. He loves him a lot. For all the ups and downs and weird, dumb arguments/debates that break out it’s all so fucking worth it to Izuku. They’ve been together since forever, literally. At least to them. Since Izuku was born Katsuki’s been by his side and in his life in every way he can. They’ve gone through the worst of the worst and still come out hand in hand, Izuku knows it’ll be like that for the rest of the time he’s alive. It’s practically written in the stars.
They’ve been in school together since the beginning and now they’re going to their dream school together to train as heroes just like they planned back when they were three and four and barely understood what it all meant, just that they had a dream and they were determined to make it happen.
And Hitoshi. Izuku’s best friend, platonic soulmate, his other half in nearly every way. He doesn’t even really remember what it was like before Hitoshi. Of course, he knows Hitoshi only came into his life during his first year of middle school, during one of the many horrible periods of his life, but it’s hard to imagine he wasn’t just always there with him. Their little trio is so complete with him. It feels like he really has always been there.
Hitoshi and Izuku are opposite sides of two separate coins that were forcefully pressed together but somehow perfectly aligned. They understand each other in ways no one else could possibly get. Since they met they’ve clicked in ways Izuku never thought he ever could with another person.
They are Izuku and Hitoshi.
The quirkless kid and villainous kid.
Except now Izuku technically has a quirk and, in Izuku’s—and plenty others’—opinion, Hitoshi’s quirk isn’t something that can just be carelessly labelled as villainous all because it has the potential to be used for bad.
Every quirk can be used for horrible things. It just matters how the holder actually utilises it.
But that’s all beside the point. Izuku’s getting distracted again.
Currently, his thoughts are stuck on his dad.
Aizawa Shouta. Eraserhead. Izuku’s first ever trusted adult that hasn’t wronged him. His hero, his friend, his mentor, his dad.
And now? His teacher.
So many labels and all of them belong to one person. One person Izuku met by complete chance that could’ve given up on him, some sad kid that was in a shitty situation. Shouta could’ve forced him to go to the station that first day they met, could’ve handed him off to someone else as soon as they walked through the doors. Sent him away to be handled by the system and placed in unfamiliar hands that would’ve never treated him as kindly as the man’s own.
Instead he treaded lightly. Walked around and around in circles and through hoops and ducked under countless obstacles all so he could find Izuku and gain his trust and help him and love him.
Oh no, he’s crying again.
A couple hours ago, around 2am…ish, Izuku wandered out into the living room, gently picking up Coffee Bean who happily cuddled into his arms before he—as quietly as possible—opened the balcony doors and just sat. Looking out over the stars and petting his favourite little kitty and just let himself think and think and think. He’s cried about three times because he can’t believe all the luck he has.
Izuku’s so lost in his own head that he doesn’t hear the front door open, doesn’t hear the thud of combat boots falling to the floor as they’re slid off. Doesn’t hear the near silent steps come to a standstill as they reach the living room and see the balcony. Doesn’t hear them start up again, slow and easy, as someone makes their way over.
But he does hear the ruffle of fabric as someone sits heavily beside him. He does feel the hand that gently traces across his shoulders before it draws him into a side embrace.
Shouta’s tired. Well, okay, he’s always tired. Chronically exhausted because his work schedule is so tragically conflicting that sleep is something rare but sacred to him. Afternoon and impromptu naps are the way it goes for him.
Which is why he’s so glad that tonight’s patrol was so fucking boring. Which, yes, is exactly that: boring. But school starts tomorrow—today?—which means his schedule is about to get truly, utterly fucked again so he’s grateful for the dullness that is Tuesday to Wednesday patrols.
But, he’s still tired, slinking in and out of shadows and jumping across roofs is still taxing. Taking down sad little thieves and low-level criminals and villains isn’t exactly thrilling. At least not when all it takes to cuff them is alerting them of his presence. Like, really, some people are not cut out for villainy or petty crime and it shows.
So when he gets home, he expects to take off his boots, fight his way out of his hero costume, and collapse into bed next to Hizashi so he can get a few hours of shut eye. Maybe, probably, most likely, he’ll check on Izuku sometime between taking off his boots and collapsing into plush sheets. A habit he developed as soon as Izuku became a part of his home life. One that calms his heart and mind.
What he decidedly wasn’t expecting, especially at 4am the day the school year officially takes off, is Izuku sitting on the dusty floor of the balcony—not even in one of the painfully expensive outdoor chairs—petting Coffee Bean and looking at the stars with tears silently falling down his cheeks.
Which would be a little panic inducing, usually, but from Shouta’s angle in the living room he can see a devastatingly soft smile gracing Izuku’s face. It makes Shouta’s chest swell with some unnamed swirl of emotion that makes him feel soft and gooey.
Looks like sleep is still on the waitlist tonight.
When he sits beside Izuku he sees the telltale flicker of attention as his head tilts in Shouta’s direction, silent acknowledgement.
For someone with enhanced senses, having ears and eyes that can hear and see far too much, when Izuku is calm or completely lost in thought, or both in this case, he doesn’t sense anything. Sometimes it worries Shouta because that kind of lack of awareness could lead to awful scenarios in hero work but then he remembers that Izuku only loses himself like that when he feels safe and the worry dwindles away.
He wraps an arm around Izuku and drags his kid into his side, Izuku easily sinks into him. A hand coming away from the cat in his lap as he wipes away the residual tear tracks, he’s still smiling and it makes Shouta’s head swim with questions but he knows Izuku will talk if he wants to.
They sit quietly for a while. Coffee Bean eventually slinks out of Izuku’s lap and into Shouta’s for just a quick moment, just long enough to cover him in cat hair and nuzzle his cheek, before disappearing back into the apartment.
The silence breaks.
“You know you’re a lot of things to me at this point.” Izuku says it offhandedly, voice almost distant.
“What do you mean by that?” Shouta asks, looking sidelong at Izuku.
Shouta expects traits. Like how he is constantly labelled as strict, apathetic, and other things from people who didn’t know him, or connect with him, personally. He was a closed off individual and he liked it that way. It ensured his—and the people he loves’—safety.
“Well. You started out as my hero. And then you became my friend and later my mentor. And then my dad. And now you’re my teacher.” Izuku says this while looking out at the sky, still just watching the rolling clouds as the moon and stars peak through, not even glancing at Shouta. The small pleased smile on his face grows a little larger and that makes something in Shouta thrum. “You’re a lot to me and you’re still all those things to me. You’re my dad, obviously, but you’re still my friend, my mentor, and definitely my hero. And now my teacher. I was just thinking about it all.”
Shouta feels like he’s breaking apart in one of the best ways. Izuku is closed off. Just like he is. Izuku is somehow both incredibly emotionally literate, especially when it comes to other people, and completely shut down. So. These kinds of conversations full of vulnerability and sincerity don’t happen often but when they do they make Shouta’s heart sing.
Izuku may be saying somewhat simple things, just stating facts. But the look on his face and the softness of his voice is all you need to hear to know how deep the words truly run.
Izuku is a kid that had nothing for so long. Shouta forgets that sometimes, drowning in domestic bliss does that to a person, but it’s times like these when he remembers.
“You’re a lot of things to me too, kid.”
Izuku hums in place of actually voicing his inquiry. Shouta continues in the same near wistful tone he started in.
“Well. You’re also my friend,” Shouta’s voice is somewhat playful because, really, Shouta knows he definitely felt some kind of protective-parental attachment towards Izuku within the first 5 minutes of meeting him. “That’s what you first were to me. Then you became my kid, my son. And now your my student, like I am your teacher.” Shouta’s lips tick up at the corner a little before he says the next sentence. “You’re also my lucky charm, don’t forget that, Clover.”
It makes Izuku laugh, a sound full of light and warmth. For all the times Shouta still refers to him as Clover, the origin of that nickname slips his mind frequently.
“Yeah.” Izuku breaths, the gentle smile from before turning into something beaming and bright.
With a squeeze he unwraps his arm from around Izuku, slowly pushing himself up to his feet. He hears something pop and he winces automatically. He just turned 30 last year and he’s already getting dramatic about his age, having to bite down the remark about old age that he knows Izuku would refute. Dad, you’re literally young. What are you talking about? It’s happened plenty within the last few months.
“We both need to go to bed. At least get some sleep…”
Izuku sighs but stands up, grabbing onto Shouta’s sleeve as some sort of anchor before passing the man a sleepy smile and a hug so short Shouta can’t even return it.
“Yeah, I guess we do.”
Slowly, they both wander back inside, shutting the glass sliding door as quietly as they can. Because Hizashi, for being—quite literally—one of the loudest human beings to currently exist, is a light sleeper.
With a whisper of, “Goodnight, Clover.” And the answering murmur of “Goodnight, Dad.” They both enter their own rooms and try their damnedest to get at least 2 hours of sleep.
Hizashi is dancing around in front of the stove as he makes breakfast, Shouta is staring blankly at the coffee machine waiting for the exact moment his near lethal brew is done, and Izuku is sitting at the kitchen table just… looking at both of them.
Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation that’s making him have this exact train of thought and plan of action but it feels like something that must be done.
It only takes another moment for both of them to catch his presence and give him semi-questioning looks. Izuku acts like he doesn’t notice, just keeps looking.
The coffee machine lets out a series of beeps and Shouta nearly scrambles to get his favourite mug out of the cabinet. Desperate for caffeine and some sort of semblance of feeling awake even if it’s just having an elevated heart rate. Izuku finally stands up, gliding across the floor as he gets his own mug down and pointedly sets it next to his dad’s. A silent plea.
His dad wastes no time, as soon as his mug is practically overflowing he moves on to Izuku’s, generously filling it to just below the lip of the mug.
Hizashi thinks the next part, no matter how many times he’s bore witness to this exact scene, is a little horrifying and concerning. Only because they both take a long swig of the scalding liquid like it’s absolutely nothing, like it isn’t on the verge of destroying the inside of their mouths. The blond ardently looks away, wondering how he ended up in a house—in a family—with not one but two caffeine addicts that have zero patience when it comes to said caffeine.
When breakfast is done they maneuver around one another to make their own plates. All of them settling around the table and eating with an unnecessary urgency.
(It’s necessary. They all woke up late this morning.)
Conversation is sparse, mostly asking about do you have everything you need? are you sure? and shouta don’t forget your lesson plans and hizashi do you even know where the keys are? as they finish up.
“Green Bean, where’s your bag?” Hizashi asks as they’re cleaning up, finally noticing Izuku only has his current analysis notebook in his hands, pen in his pocket. But as soon as the words leave his mouth his eyes widen and he smiles, “Oh, oh yeah. It’s Sho’s classroom, isn’t it?”
Izuku grins, “Yep!” Izuku pops the ‘p’.
They both hear Shouta grumble indignantly.
Just as they are all surrounding the door, slipping on shoes and giving Coffee Bean her goodbye pets, does Izuku finally act on his earlier thoughts.
As soon as his dad is properly standing up again, Izuku turns and looks directly into the man’s eyes. Completely silent. Shouta holds his gaze, completely unaffected by Izuku’s sudden, steely attention.
With a deep breath, Izuku finally opens his mouth.
“Aizawa-sensei.”
What follows makes Hizashi drop the keys with how hard he laughs.
Izuku recoils, shoulders hunching in as he steps back, face screwing up with distaste. Shouta grins something right between affection because wow his kid’s so fucking cute and sadism because heh. Hizashi’s near tears before he finally bends down to gather the keys. Izuku’s nose is still scrunching up but says it again, still looking into Shouta’s eyes. Forcing himself to associate that title with the person he’s so used to just calling dad.
Hizashi is still snickering when Izuku turns to him and says, “Yamada-sensei.”
Izuku only winces this time, obviously holding back the whole physical reaction. But Hizashi stumbles back, somehow completely caught off guard by this turn of events.
“Oh. I hate this.” Izuku whispers reverently before his voice picks up again, “You’re dad and you’re-” Izuku cuts off when he points to Hizashi.
Suddenly the humour evaporates because Izuku goes pale at whatever he was about to say but held back.
“I’m… what?” Hizashi says slowly, nervously. Because his mind is already running rampant with horrible scenarios. Does Izuku suddenly hate him? Did he hold back an insult? Did his true feelings almost show? Oh god. Shouta on the other hand seems to know exactly what’s going on because his eyes go soft and his mouth parts slightly in awe.
“What were you about to say, Izuku?” He asks in a gentle voice, coaxing the answer out. Izuku’s jaw clenches but the colour is slowly returning to his skin. In fact, it’s returning tenfold, a cute little blush settling over his cheeks that highlights his freckles.
A tight swallow and then a whisper, so quiet it’s almost one with the wind, “I was about to, uh, to say that he… that’s he’s also—pretty much—my dad.”
Hizashi goes slack jawed before his mouth closes again and his bottom lip wobbles dangerously, eyes already tearing up. Shouta is poorly containing his own emotional reaction, both corners of his mouth twitching and the whites of his eyes more red than they were a minute ago. Hizashi can vaguely hear the sound of the keys clattering to the floor once again.
“Oh, kiddo.” Hizashi practically falls over himself in his haste to gather Izuku into his arms. He’s been a part of this little trio, this little family, for several years now. First as just Shouta’s friend that was suspiciously close and much too willing to spoil Izuku, then as the weird inbetween when he and Shouta finally got together, and, now, he’s been living with them since Izuku’s second year of middle school—and still this is groundbreaking to him.
Izuku hugs him back just as tightly, obviously embarrassed but entirely pleased by the positive reciprocation even if it was out of nowhere. It’s been such a hectic morning and the day’s only going to get more crazy if previous school years are anything to go by but Hizashi feels at peace in this moment.
“You see me as dad.” His voice is watery, breaking near every other syllable but he feels Izuku nod into his chest. His heart is going to burst. How is he expected to ever leave this kid’s—his kid’s—side today?
There’s a quiet rumble of laughter nearby, Shouta sounds undeniably nostalgic and it makes Hizashi look up at him with a raised brow. He almost forgot his lovely significant other was right next to them, huh. Who knew being officially seen as parent wiped out the rest of the world around you?
“Reminds me of when Izuku first called me dad. It was also out of nowhere, without him meaning to.” Shouta explains, a hand reaching out to ruffle Izuku’s hair as much as he can with how the kid is still pressed to Hizashi. Hizashi grins at Shouta’s words nonetheless. Their kid was simply too sincere, too loving. It just bursts out of him before he even gives himself permission.
He loves Izuku so much.
“Oh? And how did that happen?” Hizashi asks.
Izuku suddenly pulls back, face once again red as he sends a weak glare at Shouta. “No.”
Shouta smirks but his eyes are still soft. “Aw, c’mon, Clover. It’s cute.”
“It’s not.”
Shouta rolls his eyes and gently starts pushing both Hizashi and Izuku out of the door, keys now in his hands. He must’ve picked them up when Hizashi was hugging Izuku. They’re being systematically steered down the hall and towards the elevator to the garage before they both know it.
If Hizashi were to check his watch or his phone, anything with a clock, he’d see just how close to late they are.
It’s quiet while they ride down, the hum of the elevator and the beep every time they go down a floor the only sounds amongst them. Hizashi still has an arm wrapped around Izuku, keeping his kid close. He’s still reeling from the startling realization that Izuku really does see him as a parent, he never thought Izuku would see him in such a way despite everything. It just never occurred to him it was a possibility even if he and Shouta had stayed up plenty nights talking about it.
Just as the beep signalling they’ve reached their floor sounds, but right before the door opens, Shouta speaks again. “He called me dad when he was trying to get me to wake up and sign something for school. I was awake and he knew it but I refused to move and then he just suddenly called me dad in the middle of trying to annoy me into getting up.”
Shouta sighs after he says it, in a way that screams how clearly he remembers the moment, like just talking about it is making him relive one of his best memories. Izuku on the other hand makes a strangled noise at being exposed before he whines and drops his head, faux reluctantly hugging Shouta. Hizashi cracks a smile, he can’t help it. His little family is just so cute and he loves them both so, so much.
And then, they’re walking to the car. Shouta tosses the keys over the hood to Hizashi before they both get in. Setting their things down and doing a final recount to make sure they have anything before turning around is truly inconvenient.
(Thankfully, they have everything. Which is a bit of a miracle.)
As Izuku settles in the backseat, notebooks being carefully set aside, he quietly says, “I’m still going to call you ‘Zashi though… if that’s okay? Dads already taken—obviously—and everything else feels too… childish. And, well, you’re ‘Zashi to me. You know?”
The emphasis he puts on Hizashi’s name is enough. It says it all.
“Of course it’s okay, Izuku.” The smile is audible in Hizashi’s voice. “Call me whatever makes you comfortable.”
When Hizashi starts the car and shifts to reverse, the anticipation for this new chapter of their lives sets in. Hizashi and Shouta are going to be teaching Izuku this year, properly. In order for him to become a hero. And Izuku sees him as a father figure. There’s so much happening and it all feels so good.
As he pulls out of the garage and into the sunlight he can’t stop the smile on his face from widening, it hasn’t dropped since Izuku granted him the knowledge of his parental status and the more he thinks about everything the more happy he feels.
Hizashi really thinks it’s going to be a good year. How can it not be when this is his life? He has everything he’s ever wanted.