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The end of Shouta’s patrol found him perched on top of a high rise downtown, watching the bustle of nightlife pass by on the street below. It was bright down there, despite the ungodly hour. It fit Shouta’s mood more than he would care to admit out loud that he was apart from it.
Shouta palmed his phone in the darkness, running his thumb incessantly over a chip in the screen. Hizashi had put that chip there, trying to tie one of those ridiculous charms to the device and fumbling it off the edge of the balcony of their apartment. It was amazing that the rest of the screen had survived, just a tiny little chip from rebounding off of the railing of the balcony below theirs. Zashi had of course apologized profusely and tried to insist on replacing it but Shouta had stubbornly refused to part with the thing. It was just a chip after all, if it couldn’t hold up under the strain of a little damage here and there then there was no point.
Two months. Just two more months of coming home to a cold and empty apartment and everything would be back to normal again. It wasn’t the first time they’d been apart for the sake of a mission, wasn’t even the first time that it was for months at a time. But this was the first time it had been Zashi leaving, not Shouta. It was…different. He’d stopped eating at home after the first month, the tv didn’t produce enough noise to settle his nerves without disturbing the neighbors and Nemuri had been happy to have him for dinner more often than not. It wasn’t until month three that she’d caught him sleeping in the dorms on the student couch and dragged him back to her place instead. He would take the fact that he couldn’t sleep at home without Hizashi snoring next to him to his grave .
The buzz of his phone in his hand drew him out of his thoughts, glancing down to swipe off the alarm. They’d had to set the alarm, establish times to talk so that they could function in their daily lives without leaping for the phone every moment they had a minute. Seeing the way Midoriya practically had an imprint of his phone on the side of his face and sores on his thumbs made him both grateful and just a little bit envious . The problem child was running himself into the ground trying to juggle his hero work and staying in touch with Hitoshi all at once. Shouta was going to have to step in soon enough.
But soon enough was not now, and Shouta shoved down the schoolboy excitement that threatened to overwhelm his common sense as he scrolled through to his partner’s contact information and hit dial. His fingers didn’t quite catch the memo, drumming staccato rhythms on his knee as he waited with just a hint of impatience for the dial tone droning on and on in his ears to end. For the long-awaited first-
“Hey, Shou.”
The soft, rumbling sigh was never intentional, but it was always the first thing that left his lips, bleeding out tension like a sieve. Shouta had always appreciated Hizashi’s effect on his life, the way he balanced Shouta’s hard edges with softness and sunlight so that he could function in the world. It wasn’t until he wasn’t right there that Shouta realized just how much he relied on his partner. It made him wonder how much he took the man on the other end of the phone, who still managed to find the joy somewhere to laugh despite Shouta knowing what the mission he was on was doing to him, for granted. When Hizashi got home he would change that. Would make the time to appreciate his sunflower the way he should be appreciated. Until then he would just have to focus on keeping his face to the sun and hoping it was close enough for an hour a day to stay warm by.
Shouta watched the minutes tick by without really watching them, the sinking pit in his stomach growing with each grain of sand dropping through their hourglass. An hour wasn’t enough, it would never be enough. But they’d agreed and Shouta wouldn’t push Hizashi on this. He needed his strength and his focus, so he could come home in one piece. Shouta would never forgive himself if something happened to Zashi that could’ve been prevented by just a little extra rest. Plus, providing a good example for the kids to follow was something they were supposed to do. No matter how much Shouta would rather not.
“I love you, Shouta.” Shouta closed his eyes and let three words resonate through his soul for just a moment longer. The distortion of the speaker didn’t make them any less amazing to hear, nor any less important. It didn’t matter how often he heard it, Shouta would always want to hear it just once more .
“Fifty-five more days, Zashi. Just fifty-five more.” Shouta knew how exhausted he sounded. Just voicing how much longer they had left to go drained a little more energy from his bones, a little more color from the world below. It was closer than it had been, but it wasn’t close enough. Would never be close enough until Shouta was standing at the airport watching blond and purple walking his way, “I’ll see you soon, Love.”
Eventually, Shouta found his way back to his feet, his phone hanging like lead in his pocket as he shifted his stance for a good throw on his capture weapon. He didn’t want to be around society tonight, skirting around them felt like the better idea. Tomorrow, when the sun had risen and there were only fifty four sunrises left to face alone, Shouta would head back into the world and deal with life. But tonight the only stop he planned to make was at the 7/11. Nemuri was out of matcha ice cream again.