Work Text:
The last thing Shota expected as he walked into the infirmary was an armful of one of his students, especially since he had yet to be informed of said student’s presence in the infirmary in the first place, as he is supposed to be if any of the kids end up being sent there when he is not present, so acquiring that knowledge via a green blur shouting ‘sensei’ and colliding against his midsection was entirely unexpected.
“Midoriya-kun?” He looked down at the wild green hair that barely reached high enough to brush against his chin as his hands reflexively reached for the kid’s shoulders to steady them both before his back could hit the doorframe due to the unplanned collision.
“Wan o ome,” was the response he got, muffled against his jumpsuit and made utterly unintelligible. He didn’t sound incredibly distressed or look any more injured than the last time he’d checked in on the class, so he found himself letting go of some of the tension that started to build at the sight of Midoriya once again in the infirmary. It couldn’t be that bad if there were no broken bones or tears in sight.
He looked around for any more insight into the current situation but all he found was Chiyo standing by her desk, looking highly amused and entirely unhelpful. His aura of exasperation must have reached her eventually, because she shook her head with a small smile and made her way to them, starting to pry Midoriya’s arms from their tight grip around him.
“He just had an unfortunate encounter with Masaki-kun from 2-J, it should be fine in a couple of hours,” she explained, chuckling when the boy refused to budge from his spot with a small sound of distress at their attempt. “Come on, Midoriya-kun, you should try to sleep it off.”
“On wan o,” the boy shook his head slightly, muffled speech barely audible and hair tickling Shota’s chin at the movement. He might go as far as to call the behavior adorable if it weren’t slightly inconvenient at the moment.
“Wait, hours?” Shota raised one brow, recalling his own encounter with Masaki-kun’s quirk in the boy’s first year. He’d held him back after a lesson to discuss his essay or lack thereof, and the disproportionally distressed kid had ended up using his quirk on him. Thankfully, it barely lasted the hour, and he didn’t remember it making him quite as touchy-feely as Midoriya seemed to be at the moment.
“Masaki-kun has been working on his quirk control,” Chiyo explained, apparently giving up on removing the clingy kid for the moment, “but Midoriya-kun caught him at a bad time. He thought making him vulnerable in return would be appropriate retribution and overshot it a little.” At his dark look, she added, “don’t worry, Nemuri is already dealing with disciplining him, but we thought it better to keep Midoriya-kun under supervision.”
It made sense, given Midoriya’s apparent newfound propensity for walking into unfortunate situations, even if he could hardly think of any specific scenarios that might cause problems on campus on a Friday of all days. He wanted to ask what exactly Midoriya had stumbled upon to cause Masaki-kun to retaliate but since it was already being taken care of by someone he trusted, it wasn’t as high a priority as the situation at hand.
“Alright,” he sighed and directed his attention to the student still clinging to his chest. Chiyo had apparently decided that Midoriya was his problem now and was moving back toward her work desk. “Midoriya-kun, I need you to answer some questions for me, so you’ll have to let go.”
Something in his tone must have been effective because the boy flinched slightly and detangled himself from Shota, leaning back with a sheepish expression and arms moving to wrap around himself instead.
“S-sorry sensei” Midoriya sniffed and rubbed his eyes. Shota frowned slightly, he’d failed to notice the kid silently tearing up, quite unlike the usual waterfall of tears and all the more worrying for it.
“It’s alright,” Shota dismissed the unnecessary apology, crossing his arms and looking down at his student as he seemed to stop crying and started distractedly swaying on the balls of his feet as if incapable of standing still for even a second. “Now care to explain why you refuse to sleep off the quirk’s effects?”
“I don’t wanna stay here,” he admitted, looking down at his feet and avoiding the teacher’s eyes, “d-don’t wanna be a bother, and it looks like a hospital, I don’t like hospitals, not like there’s anything to heal, right?”
Shota contemplated the answer for a moment, warring slightly with the ethics of questioning his student while he was under the influence of a mind-altering quirk, but his curiosity and a bit of worry quickly conquered that particular ethical war. He lowered himself to a crouch to level with the kid, trying to meet the boy’s wandering gaze.
“You’re not a bother,” he assured, it’s literally their job to look after the students in their care no matter what, and he doesn’t approve of coddling but sleeping off a quirk effect is hardly close to it. “Why don’t you like hospitals?”
“Hm?” Midoriya took a moment to process the question and finally focused slightly vacant eyes on his. “Mom works at a hospital… I don’t like them though, they’re always mean, it makes her sad?” Shota isn’t sure why there’s a questioning tone there until he keeps going, “angry. Can’t go anywhere with me, even the hospitals don’t want me, say it’s a waste of resources,” the boy shrugs entirely unaware of his teacher’s growing displeasure. “I wanna go home.”
“I’m sure your mother would love to have you home over the weekend when you’re no longer under the influence of a quirk,” Shota placated pointedly, hardly about to let his student walk out of campus so vulnerable… and before his questions were answered. More questions pop to mind when the boy seems to pale slightly and starts shaking his head in denial.
“N-no, home to the dorms!” Midoriya corrected, hands moving in front of himself as if to emphasize the sentiment with his whole body. There’s a niggling feeling in the back of Shota’s mind and every word leaving the boy’s mouth seems intent on aggravating it.
“Home is the dorms?” He questioned lightly even as he tried to figure out what was wrong with the image being presented to him.
“Mhm,” there’s a vehement nod and, as if a switch was flipped, a sunshine smile was being directed at him. “Everyone’s so nice! Sato-kun always shares what he bakes, Uraraka-chan gave me some of her leftover glow-in-the-dark stars for my wall, and Iida-kun and Yaoyorozu-chan offered to help everyone with homework! I know it’s because they're the class reps but it’s so nice of them! Plus I get to have my room the way I want it, I can’t wait to get to draw some posters…” Shota hid a twitch of his mouth behind his capture scarf as the boy descended into unintelligible mumbling over how good the dorms were.
Shota may be overthinking this, but a week did not seem like enough time to already think of somewhere as home the way Midoriya seemed to consider Heights Alliance. He mentally dismissed those thoughts in order to focus on the moment.
“I can hardly send you back to your classmates like this,” he pointed out, interrupting the kid’s ramblings over something related to Kirishima-kun and exercise guides. He had been lucky to only bump into Zashi when under the effects of the quirk and was not about to leave the currently vulnerable boy at the mercy of fifteen teenagers while not knowing what they could make him say or do. He had some faith in his current class, he’ll concede to that, but not that much. “If you insist on leaving the infirmary, I could allow you to stay at a teacher’s dorm under their supervision until the quirk wears off.”
Midoriya nodded to himself, clearly seeing reason, but the previous enthusiasm tapered as he presented his suggestion.
“I don’t want to b-bother anyone!” the boy insisted, shaking his head and glancing backward at the interior of the infirmary with a slight grimace before casting a considering look toward the hallway behind them.
“You won’t, Midoriya-kun, it’s our job to look after you,” he explained, taking notice of the look and moving slightly on his crouch to cover more of the doorway in case Midoriya decided it was a bright idea to run for it instead. “Now, I know for a fact All Might is currently not on school grounds, so your primary option is out,” he pointed out without inflection. A blind person could see there was some connection between the two, even if he wasn’t quite sure what it was. “Thirteen and Lunch Rush aren’t around either, but that still leaves a few options.”
Shota didn’t expect the slight flinch at All Might’s name but figured it had been a good idea to take Yagi-san out of the running due to his time limit even though he actually was on school grounds. He expected the boy’s next choice, out of the teachers he’s more likely to have met already, to be Hizashi or maybe Yuzuki if he was feeling adventurous, so the request that follows the brief period of consideration is a little surprising.
“C-can I stay with you?” Midoriya averts his eyes a moment after the shy request as if anticipating a rejection, which would probably be the logical thing to do. Shota has essays to grade from his Law and Ethics in Heroics classes and shouldn’t let himself be sidetracked by students’ shenanigans, nevermind the fact that he shares his space with Zashi and their relationship, while an open secret, had yet to be brought up to most students unless necessary. On the other hand, a slight deviation in plans is a small price to pay for getting a chance to figure out what exactly is it about this kid that had been bothering him from day one.
“Alright,” he agreed neutrally and glanced toward Chiyo only to notice he’d surprised more than one person in the room with his answer. He stood up, ignoring the way his joints popped at the movement, and directed his attention to the nurse, “I’ll be taking him off your hands then, but I did come here for a reason. Refill.”
“Have fun with that,” Chiyo teased, standing and grabbing a bundle of keys from a drawer in her desk and moving out of sight to unlock the teachers’ medicine cabinet. Members of the faculty taking any prescription drug usually had it delivered to Chiyo’s office and stopped by to pick it up as needed. Once she walked back into view, a pill bottle was held out to him, as well as a smaller one he had not requested. “Here you go, and give Midoriya-kun the other one once he drops, the chemical rearrangement might give him a headache.”
“Will do,” he took the bottles and promptly stored them in on his capture weapon, noticing with amusement that the movement earned him a curious look from his student. With a thankful nod to Chiyo, he moved back to the hallway, “come along, Midoriya-kun.”
Shota walked the hallways in silence, the only noise around them being his student’s unintelligible mumblings under his breath, as they made their way out of the main building and toward Heights Alliance. Before the dormitories were instituted a few years ago, a few years too late, there had already been a couple of buildings allocated toward the teachers for one reason or the other, which sometimes ended up being used by the school wards or temporary guests Nezu sporadically flew in for a couple of lectures. Once the dorms were built, every building had a back room on the first floor, accessible from the outside, available for each homeroom teacher’s use. His own space had been outfitted not quite enough to be lived in but enough to spend time in when not at his and Zashi’s shared apartment a few kilometers away from the school.
Since living at the dormitories became compulsory, at least for the hero classes, Nezu had pulled Shota and Kan aside to request that they consider fully moving in with their respective homerooms to keep an eye on them at all times. Two weeks after the request, Shota had yet to fully move in, but he had made a point to start outfitting one of the floors in the teachers’ dorms for his and Zashi’s eventual use. Since he was not quite sure whether he wanted to risk bumping into any other students while accompanied by Midoriya, he made a point to reroute their steps toward the faculty buildings which were a couple of minutes away to the right of the Heights Alliance conglomerate.
By the time they stepped out of the elevator into the upper floor of the building, Midoriya had moved on from mumbling about his classmates to mumbling about the teachers, at least that was what Shota assumed from the few words he’d managed to make out. Unlocking the lone door in front of the elevator, he held it open and motioned for his student to come in before locking the door behind them. Once their shoes were dutifully put away at the genkan, he led the boy into the living room.
“There’s no television yet,” he pointed out as they walked into the sparsely decorated space. Zashi had yet to get invested in designing the interior, so they made do with the kotatsu sofa and a whole lot of bookshelves on the closest wall to the entrance. “But I’m sure you can entertain yourself, or take a nap.”
His words seemed to open the dam and Midoriya quickly began to ask what Shota assumed to be all of the questions he’d been formulating as they made their way up.
“Do all the teachers live in the building? Is there only one apartment per floor? Why’s it so empty, do you not actually live here? Does anyone else live here? ‘Cause, there’s a pair of shoes on the genkan that's not your size, so do the teachers actually have to room together? Oh, are pets allowed? I remember Present Mic-sensei said on his show that he’s got cats and Ectoplasm-sensei sometimes has dog fur on his coat, but maybe he just likes visiting shelters sometimes! I used to-” Midoriya’s eyes finally met his own and widen slightly and his whole demeanor visually changed before Shota’s eyes. His shoulders hunched and his head lowered, hands moving to hug around his stomach almost protectively, “s-sorry, I didn’t mean- I forgot, ‘cause you’re different but I shouldn’t have- children are to be seen not heard, I forgot, I-”
Midoriya spiraled from endless questions to nearly hyperventilating almost too quickly for Shota to register and his eyes widened slightly, not ready for the whiplash of emotions, though he should have seen this coming due to the quirk his student is under. He quickly moved to stand in front of the kid, this time lowering himself to his knees instead of a crouch if only to give his joints a break.
“It’s alright, you’re allowed to ask questions, but how about you breathe for a minute if you’d like me to answer them?” He tried his best for a soothing tone usually reserved for victims he rescued during the job or his cats. His student however seemed close to slipping into a panic attack, “May I touch you?”
The question seemed to be entirely counterproductive, making the kid take a step back, breath hitching and eyes widening, almost looking more unfocused than before as he hurriedly shook his head from side to side in a more expressive answer than words could give.
What the hell?
“Okay, no touching, got it,” he assured, hands clearly displayed in front of himself and far from reaching out, “but I need you to breathe with me, alright? Like this,” Shota proceeded to exaggerate his breathing and count out the breaths, slowly but surely coaching his student out of his panic.
By the time Midoriya calmed down, teary-eyed but clearly more aware, Shota had a few dozen questions, some of which were quite urgent, and no more answers than before they stepped into the apartment.
“You did good, kid,” he uncharacteristically praised, receiving a small smile in return that was entirely worth it, “how about we go sit down? I can answer any questions you have, but I’ve got a few of my own too.”
“Okay, sensei” was the almost whispered response before he stood and moved them toward the sofa, Midoriya sitting cross-legged in the furthest corner while he sat himself down in the middle with his legs casually splayed under the kotatsu.
“Let me see if I remember…” he tried to recall the boy’s questions from before, “not all of the teachers live here, and there are usually two apartments per floor but I talked Nezu into giving me the whole floor.” It had actually been his one condition in order to fully move into the faculty buildings, “what else?"
“A-are pets allowed?” There was still a stutter, but the tone was surer than before.
“Yes, and Ectoplasm does have a dog, but he doesn’t live on campus,” Shota takes a moment to consider his question, not wanting to risk sending the kid into another panic attack, but he figured it was more due to whatever had been going on in the kid’s head than the phrase itself. “Who told you children should be seen and not heard?”
“Arakida-sensei,” Midoriya seemed to answer by reflex because his immediate reaction to the admission was to cover his mouth and look up with wide, anxious eyes. “N-not s’pposed to tell any-”
“It’s alright,” he placated the kid, “how about this: if you tell me what else your old… teachers said or did that upset you, no one will hear it from me.”
Midoriya seemed to retreat into himself, muttering under his breath as if calculating the pros and cons of taking the offered deal. He seemed to settle on an answer soon enough, eyes flitting around the room to look at anything but Shota.
“Hoshiba-sensei wasn’t so bad, he was a bit mean, didn’t like people like me, but he didn’t- didn’t do anything much…” His student meets his eyes for a moment and Shota does his best to put on an entirely neutral expression, “Arakida-sensei didn’t like when I talked much, h-he would yell a lot and- uh, he’d make me wear a m-muzzle sometimes ‘till I learned to be quiet, but it took no time at all!” he added in a lighter tone as if it was something to be happy about and didn’t make Shota clench his fists in order to control his expression. “K-Kitanai-sensei didn’t like the muzzle,” small mercies, Shota conceded, “s-she didn’t like anything covering m-my mouth, a-and she’d keep me b-behind for lunch a-and she’d t-touch- she-” nevermind, what the actual fuck? “I d-don’ wanna t-talk about-”
The guilt over once again causing Midoriya to enter a panicked state warred with how necessary it had been for him to get this out of his student in the first place. Of course, information gathered when a person is under any influence is hardly valid in court, but now he’s got something to work with, even if it doesn’t quite seem to be the whole picture.
“That’s fine, you said plenty, you need to breathe with me now,” he assured his student before repeating the previous attempt at a breathing exercise, with apparently more success now that he wasn’t in such close proximity to the boy. “That’s it, good job.”
“G-good?” The breathy question made something tighten in Shota’s chest and he couldn’t help but nod.
“You did great kid, now how about I let you watch something on my phone while I make us something to eat?” He suggested, plus his student could probably use a cup of water too.
It was almost visually perceptible when a different emotion overtook the previous one in his student’s quirk-affected mind, eyes brightening in eagerness as he nodded in agreement with a small ‘yes, please’ that had Shota quickly fishing his personal phone out of a pocket and handing it off to the kid. He wasn’t about to hand the teen his work phone, of course, it was way too filled with dangerous contacts and information that should stay far from the hands of a fresh hero-in-training while the most compromising things in his personal phone were probably cat pictures. Once Midoriya seemed entertained enough, Shota stood from the sofa - mourning the loss of the kotatsu’s warmth - and made his way to the kitchen with a million thoughts going through his mind.
The mystery of Midoriya Izuku had been a constant background to his thoughts since the entrance exam. A kid with a powerful quirk, powerful enough to break three limbs, yet as much control over it as a toddler who’d just manifested it. The point system dictated that the boy made it into the hero course but Shota was not about to let someone too lazy to train their quirk remain in his classroom. He received his students’ files to read them over, writing up a quick profile of each one in order to register their middle-school physical scores and match faces to names, and Midoriya stood out once again but far from in a good way, with teacher’s notes claiming him everything from a meek nobody to a delinquent. Interestingly enough, some reports seemed to directly contradict one another and a few read like a complete joke, who would write up a student for coming in a minute late, for kami’s sake? All of that paired with a complete lack of notes from his quirk counseling sessions was baffling, to say the least, so Shota decided to withhold full judgment until his personal quirk assessment.
Meeting the kid had only brought up even more questions. He’d observed as the green-haired student dealt with Iida and Uraraka’s praise about the exam with nervousness and humility bordering on self-deprecation, flinched at any slight noise coming from the resident explosive boy - not that Bakugo seemed capable of making anything as mild as slight noise - and generally held himself the completely opposite way from how a kid that grew up with such a powerful quirk is usually supposed to. Shota considered that it might not be laziness but fear that kept the boy from training his quirk, especially if he broke something every time he used it, but a hero held back by either laziness or fear is still a dead hero and so he waited for the boy’s turn, erased his quirk and issued his challenge. And Midoriya rose to it.
Plus the kid somehow recognized him, he forgot about that.
He didn’t have zero potential, and whether fear or laziness had been holding him back, he hadn’t let that stop him from making the best out of a bad situation, so Shota let him stay and decided to disregard any outside opinion on the boy - even All Might’s clear favoritism - and form his own throughout the term. It wasn’t like Midoriya was the only one to keep an eye on either because a few other files seemed discrepant with reality as well, given the quiet Shoji’s description as a bit of a brute and the cheerful Ashido’s teacher’s unprompted comments on her appearance and it scaring other kids, and don’t get him started on Bakugo’s clearly doctored files and Mineta’s bare bones one, the explosive boy was nothing like the polite and helpful teen described in his files and the purple one had clearly had his records expunged for some reason. The school year was shaping up into a busy one.
The recorded battle trials were a decent insight into his students’ potential, no matter how upset he’d been at All Might for disregarding every single piece of advice from the faculty - and common sense - and pitting the kids against each other with no costume assessments, safety brief or basic combat overview. Bakugo had a decent base but either no knowledge of how much was too much or very little care for collateral damage to anything and anyone around him, Midoriya had a decent head on his shoulders when it comes to strategies and making use of the available resources but was way too reckless with himself and could stand to get better at thinking on his feet during combat, Uraraka could use some stealth training and Iida might benefit from some flexibility both physical and mental. Todoroki was already someone he’d promised himself to keep an eye on, and his performance in the battle trials only reinforced that notion, while the rest of the kids had decent - if underwhelming in comparison to the two initial fights - performances and could all improve on one thing or the other that would supposedly be covered in the syllabus if All Might didn’t decide to take any more dangerous creative liberties with his teaching.
Other observations had been made as classes progressed. The way Midoriya trembled in front of the class after being elected class president clearly showed no experience with being in a position of authority and he had passed up the responsibility at the first opportunity with no intention of trying to live up to it. He never raised his hand to answer but would not stop mumbling or taking notes at every chance, and when called on he would usually stutter out the correct answer even though his graded works so far were entirely average. At the USJ… he threw himself into the fight to protect Shota with zero regard for his personal safety and even though it probably saved him a few injuries he was sure to reprimand the boy for being so illogically reckless.
While a past with abusive teachers - if they can even be called that - would definitely explain some of it, not all of the puzzle was complete, especially in regard to Midoriya’s quirk and his incoherent behavior toward it. This was a chance, he realized, to get any answers he might want with minimal effort. It was also a surefire way to completely shatter any trust his student might have in him, and he figured that the long-term consequences of his current line of questioning were a little more of a priority than immediate results. He would have three years to coach out the truth from Midoriya - though he hopes it won’t actually take that long - and hurrying things up by taking advantage of his current state would be illogical and jeopardize his effectiveness as his teacher.
With that decision in mind, he put his refilled medicine bottle and Midoriya’s smaller one up on the counter so he would not forget them and went about making something for dinner. The slow process of moving in had thankfully started in the kitchen, meaning the necessary appliances were already there, and since their time on school grounds had increased exponentially in the past week as security measures were discussed and applied, most of the meals so far had either come from Fukuda or he’d cooked them himself. Zashi couldn’t cook if his life depended on it, as had been proven multiple times throughout their lives to increasingly comical results that had him half suspecting some sort of ruse to get out of kitchen duty and half not caring enough to find out. He ended up opting for something quick and simple, walking back into the living room a while later with two servings of oyakodon - with some leftover in the pans for whenever Zashi finished his show - and setting them and the chopsticks down on the kotatsu with some noise to grab Midoriya’s attention from whatever was making the kid giggle at his phone’s screen.
“S-sensei!” His student startled and dropped the phone on the couch, red-faced and covering his mouth with one hand, visibly trying to reign in his laughter.
One glance at the phone screen had him realizing the reason why. He reached for it and exited the recording with an exasperated sigh. Of course the kid would snoop around, even if for all Shota knew he might not have in different circumstances.
“Not a word of that to your classmates, Midoriya” He warned, slipping back down to the sofa to eat.
“I r-really didn’t mean to pry, I don’t know w-why-” when the stutter started worsening Shota had to cut in.
“It’s the quirk, kid. You’re not in your right mind, it would be Illogical to hold it against you.” He pointed out and, in the grand scheme of things, Midoriya seeing the video Zashi made of him covered in cats was the least of his worries. “Eat.”
“O-oh, right, the quirk! What does it do, anyway? I figured it’s the reason everything feels so much and it’s obviously an emitter with five-finger contact activation, plus they’ve probably got good control of it if they can pick how long it lasts. I wonder if there’s a limit to it, or if they can use it quickly enough and deactivate it before someone notices, oh what about multiple people at once? That would be really good for interrogations even if you can’t use it ‘cause sometimes just knowing where to look for stuff would be useful I bet! Do people remember everything after it wears off? Will I remember?” Shota found his eyebrows slowly climbing up as the kid spouts out question after question without even stopping to breathe. He let the mumble storm fade to the background for a minute and focused on his bowl - sue him, he was hungry! - before returning his attention back to the kid.
“I’m not Masaki-kun’s quirk counselor, so I have no idea about most of that” He answered honestly. He did have a basic quirk counseling license like all heroics teachers - which he’d always been to his homeroom until this year - were supposed to have, given they spend three years strengthening their student’s minds and quirks alike, but management students hardly sought him out on such matters. “As for remembering, you will. I did. Now eat .”
“Oh, right” Midoriya blinked down at the bowl in front of him as if just realizing it was there, “itadakimasu!”
That seemed like all the prompting the kid needed to dive right in and Shota took the reprieve from questions to appreciate the silence, he would probably have even less of it until Midoriya snapped out of the quirk’s effects. Hopefully, the kid wouldn’t spill about what he saw, because a glance at the clock told him Hizashi was probably wrapping up his Friday set and would arrive at any time in the next hour. He should probably warn his husband that he’d made dinner, Shota mused while reaching for his phone to do just that and, glancing at Midoriya, added a short explanation about their temporary guest. Any other time he might have left it out and taken the opportunity to mess with Zashi but he figured it would be better not to risk it with the kid’s volatile state of mind.
“This is really good,” Midoriya pointed out between mouthfuls, breaking the silence, “like, mom’s food good, I miss when mom would cook… I’m getting okay though, ‘m just bad at spices. Kacchan hates anything I make.”
Shota wished the kid would stop saying worrying things when he can’t in good conscience ask him about them, but he figured he might as well resign himself to making a mental list of questions for when the quirk finally wore off.
“I’m sure you’re not that bad, just takes practice,” kami knows he’d needed plenty, but persevered through it since it would be illogical to live on his own and not be able to feed himself something decent when necessary. As it turned out, not living alone did not change much about that.
Any possible response was cut off by the sound of the door being unlocked.
“I’m home!” His husband’s cheerful voice announced and Shota noticed his student relax at the sound, going back to his food.
“Welcome home,” He replied, looking at the entrance to spot what state Zashi was in since it usually told him a lot about how his day went.
The moment the blond stepped into the room, Shota saw he had nothing to worry about since besides a slight frown when the blond’s eyes settled on Midoriya, he looked relaxed enough. By the lack of his costume and styled-up hair, he figured Hizashi had probably stopped by their apartment and showered it off, and those suspicions were confirmed when a familiar sound came from inside his husband’s zipped-up jacket.
“Is that a cat in your jacket?” He deadpanned.
“In my defense, I thought the kiddo could use some fluffy company!” Zashi hurried to justify, unzipping the jacket to present a small ball of black fur with two yellow-lined orbs floating in the middle of it. “Uchuu wouldn’t let me leave without him, Sho.”
“Since when is he called Uchuu?” Shota questioned with a raised brow.
“Since you tried to name him trashcan, ” was the unimpressed response.
Fair enough.
“Y-you live with Present Mic ?” Midoriya’s voice cut through their exchange and both turned to the wide-eyed boy to catch the start of another mutter fest, “but didn’t he have a partner? Present Mic said in his show that he lived with his significant other, did the school make him move in alone? That doesn’t make sense… wait, then isn’t Present Mic’s partner just Eraserhead? ” the boy’s sudden giggle cut him off before either of them could confirm or deny anything, “but he’s so loud and sensei is so not! ”
“I wonder about it every day too,” Shota deadpanned, to increased chuckles from the bewildered kid.
“Rude,” Zashi shot back with no heat behind it as he stepped up to the sofa and dropped the small ball of fur directly into Midoriya’s lap causing the boy to freeze with his chopsticks in the air and stare as the little beast glanced up, kneaded the kid’s blanket-covered thigh for a moment then promptly settled down like a fluffy sphere in the center of the crossed legs, yellow irises disappearing into the void as his eyes closed. “He likes you.”
“ I’m blessed, ” the kid all but whispers while looking down at the cat in awe, at least until a ruffle to the green curls snapped him out of it with a confused look. Shota watched as his husband removed his hand in doubt and Midoriya almost followed after it like a heat-seeking kitten before focusing back on his food.
The two traded a look, the blond grinning while Shota rolled his eyes at the ‘too cute’ his husband signed behind the kid’s back.
“Dinner’s in the kitchen,” he instructed pointedly and Zashi thankfully understood Shota wanted him out of the living room for a moment and went to fetch his own bowl. “Midoriya-kun?” He waited until the kid’s full attention was on him before continuing, “I told Hizashi about the quirk already, so you don’t need to worry about offending anyone, alright?”
“Mmh,” was all the agreement he got since the boy had his mouth full. Did no one feed this kid enough? He doubted his cooking warranted this much enthusiasm.
“To clarify, Hizashi and I are married. It’s an open secret around the faculty but few students figure it out and the ones that do know better than to say anything, so I trust you won’t tell anyone,” he explained just to be sure.
“I won’t!” Midoriya promised with an earnest enough look, “It would be dangerous, most pros don’t broadcast their relationships so it can’t be used against them, right? And since you’re underground. Present Mic-sensei can’t talk about it anyway!”
“That’s right!” Zashi’s voice chimed in as he made his way back into the room and sat down on the empty side of the sofa with his own bowl, “so unfortunately, I can’t shout out at the world about my wonderful husband, how unfair is that?” he added with an exaggerated pout that had the kid chuckling.
“Thank kami,” Shota added under his breath before turning his attention back to his dinner.
“So, how’d you end up hit with Masaki-kun’s quirk, Midoriya-kun?” His husband asked, clearly curious about the situation.
“U-uh… I wanted to train a bit more so I was going to gym delta but um- Masaki-senpai was there. With a g-girl,” Midoriya added with enough red spreading over his face to resemble a strawberry. “He didn’t like that I caught them, which is dumb because there’s cameras so they really shouldn’t be d-doing that there, but yeah.”
“Entirely Illogical,” He felt the need to agree and his husband’s following laughter had Shota hiding a smile behind his capture weapon.
“I bet Nemuri loved that,” the blond shook his head in disbelief, “poor kid won’t hear the end of her sex-ed speech for months.”
“As he should, the gym is hardly the place to hook up” Shota pointed out with no pity for the student.
“You didn’t use to think so,” Zashi smirked and earned himself a deadpan look that moved pointedly toward the student watching that whole exchange, a very flustered student. “Lookin’ a little red there, Midoriya-kun, do we need to get Midnight to have a talk with you too?” he teased “I hope catching Masaki-kun didn’t give you any ideas.”
“N-no! I would never- I m-mean, not n-never but- gah” the boy vehemently shook his hands in denial before burying his blushing face in them, letting out a muffled whine that was lost under the teachers’ chuckles.
Shota was silently thankful his husband’s teasing didn’t seem to bring up anything bad given his past conversation with Midoriya and made sure to send a meaningful look at his husband while the kid was distracted, shaking his head slightly. The last thing his student needed was the R-rated hero throwing around suggestive comments while explaining things he suspected Midoriya may have been made aware of already by less-than-pleasant means.
“Sorry kiddo, just teasing,” the blond was thankfully perceptive and cut off that particular train of thought at the warning. “But never mind that, how were classes today? Learn anything interesting?”
Shota was often thankful for his husband’s way with words, with how he could keep anyone engaged in a conversation with seemingly low effort and little loss of interest, and that moment was no exception. Within a few minutes, the living room was filled with an animated discussion between his husband and the uncharacteristically talkative kid, subjects ranging from the latest English homework - and how the kid apparently completed it in class and was more proficient in the language than both his teachers were aware of - to somehow evolving into analyzing the quirks of his student’s class.
Shota may not appreciate the fact that Masaki had used his quirk on Midoriya as revenge for being caught in an inappropriate moment, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t thankful for the opportunity to see the kid without the ridiculous amount of tension that seemed to surround him at any given time. The tension he’d hardly noticed until now, seeing the green curls bounce around as Midoriya gestured wildly and vehemently about how Uraraka’s quirk definition made no sense from what he’d seen in their latest heroics classes and generally applied scientific thought, something a big part of the population lacked at this day and age where quirks were considered science-defying. There was an intensity to his student’s eyes that he’d only seen once before when he’d looked at a kid with poor quirk control and told him he couldn’t be a hero if he continued like that, when he’d put forth a challenge and Midoriya had to think his way out of what Shota had thought was an impossible situation. That same kid was now breaking down his classmates’ quirks to the blond that quipped question after question and seemed to keep up with the boy’s train of thought and excitement in equal measures as the kid kept pointing out things Shota had only just begun to notice such as Yaoyorozu’s eating habits being unsuitable for someone with her quirk or, speaking of diets, how Aoyama’s high intake of cheese may play a part on how easily upset his stomach becomes with the use of his quirk.
It begged the question of how someone clearly so attuned to the quirks of others had managed to neglect his own so spectacularly that it still hurt him to use it.
“Midoriya-kun,” Shota interrupted the avid discussion of possible applications for Ashido’s quirk if she attained perfect control of her acid’s Ph and earned himself two startled looks as if the duo had entirely forgotten his presence. “You clearly know a lot about quirks, so why do you have so little control over your own?”
“I haven’t had a lot of time to think about it since I got it,” Midoriya answered distractedly with a shrug, “I know I should have trained it after the entrance exam, especially since it broke my bones when I used it the first time, but I was too nervous and All Might wouldn’t talk to me, then I actually got in and now I need to catch up to everyone that’s had their quirks their whole lives but things keep happening and it’s not like anyone can help when they don’t know !”
The two teachers stared in surprise at the increasing frustration of their student and even more at the raised, distressed tone at the end. Their stunned silence must have alerted Midoriya that something was wrong because the kid’s eyes widened a moment later, hands hurrying to cover his mouth as if they could take the words and shove them back inside if he was fast enough.
“Okay kid, I’m gonna set up a futon in the guest bedroom and you’re going to nap away this quirk’s effects,” Shota decided, cutting off Midoriya’s train of thought before he could start hyperventilating for the third time that evening.
“I-I’m sorry if I’m being a-annoying, I-” Midoriya started apologizing profusely, to both of the teachers’ dismay.
“You’re not, kiddo!” Zashi was quick to assure.
“He’s right, that’s not why I want you to do this,” he added, setting down his bowl to focus entirely on his clearly confused student. “I keep stumbling into things you clearly would not have talked about if not for being under a quirk, kid. While I would appreciate some answers, this isn’t the way I want us to have a conversation. You deserve to be able to talk when you’re ready, not to have a quirk trick the answers out of you. So you’re going to sleep it off, and we’ll get back to the subject when you’re in your right mind, got it?”
He expected a few responses to his assurance, but an immediate burst of tears had not been one of them. Oh shit, what did he say now? This is why Hizashi is the people person.
“What’s wrong, little listener?” Zashi was quick to ask with a worried tone, almost making his way to the distressed student.
“T-t-thank y-you,” Midoriya stuttered out with a tearful smile directed at Shota, making both teachers untense in relief. “I d-don’t know why y-you’re being so n-nice, but t-thanks.”
Hizashi let out a startled laugh and Shota magnanimously refrained from kicking his husband’s shin under the table.
“I’m not nice,” he pointed out, “It’s just logical.”
“M-maybe not nice,” the kid relented, to his satisfaction. Midoriya wiped his eyes with his forearm and continued in a soft, almost awed tone, “but y-you’re kind. That’s still more t-than usual.”
Shota paused for a moment but refused to pursue the last comment, entirely overlooking the first even as he caught his husband’s soft eyes and smile at the corner of his eyes.
“Come on, finish eating and I’ll get you set up, no more getting sidetracked,” He redirected instead, to his husband’s clear amusement. Thankfully, the blond kept his mouth shut, clearly realizing how delicate the situation was.
The trio dutifully finished their dinner and Shota set off to do as he’d promised after being thanked for the meal. Midoriya had tried to help with dishes but Zashi had been quick to insist the teen stay where he was and keep cuddling with the cat, as it would be a crime to move while the fur ball was sleeping. His search for a spare futon led him through half a dozen unpacked boxes in the spare bedroom and unsatisfactory results, returning to the living room empty-handed in hopes of asking if Zashi had any idea where to find it. He was stopped at the sight of his husband leaning against the wall of the living room, clearly done with the dishes and shushing him while watching the teen on the sofa. The sleeping teen on the sofa.
Midoriya had extended his legs under the blanket of the kotatsu and the newly renamed Uchuu had moved to accommodate, now laying on top of it. The kid’s head lolled to the side in a clearly uncomfortable way, indicating the kid hadn’t meant to fall asleep during the time he had taken searching for a futon. Still, it was convenient enough since he had failed to do so.
Shota moved to stand behind the sofa, watching the kid for a moment before sighing and lowering himself to rearrange his student into a more suitable position for sleeping in, a little surprised when his guiding of the kid’s torso to laying down didn’t wake him up. He considered pulling on the blanket to cover more of the sleeping child, but that would include dislocating the cat so the logical solution was, of course, to locate an additional blanket. Once that was resolved, he moved his attention back to the blond that had been watching his every movement with endless patience and a small smile pulling at his lips.
“Shut up,” he hissed at the look he got from his husband, which just served to further the blond’s amusement.
“I didn’t say anything,” Zashi pointed out in a whisper, not willing to risk waking the kid. “Come on, let’s talk in the bedroom, I have a feeling I’m missing a lot."
“You have no idea,” Shota confirmed with a tired sigh, letting himself be led to their room and pulled into the western-style bed - his husband too used to it from his time abroad to change and he didn’t care enough either way - once his capture weapon was removed and hung by the now closed door.
He had hardly expected the day to be this emotionally draining when making his way to the infirmary for a refill, but couldn’t bring himself to regret the discoveries made because of it no matter what came from it on the next day. It was his job to take care of his students after all, whether it came in the form of keeping them from continuing the hero course for their own good or letting them crash on his couch after an unfortunate quirk incident.
“He’s been through a lot, huh?” His husband asked, soft breath brushing his ear as he was held, arms wrapped around his waist in familiar comfort.
“We don’t know the half of it, Zashi.” Shota pointed out with a sigh, “I don’t want to betray the kid’s trust but… It’s bad. Probably worse than I’m thinking, though I sincerely hope not.”
“ Shit,” the English curse rang through the silent room with finality, entirely too accurate. “We’ll help him through it.”
“We can’t do anything if he wakes up and decides he won’t let us help,” he pointed out, shifting to turn around and slot himself under his husband’s chin, face tucked against his shoulder.
“We can be there for him,” Zashi pointed out, fingers brushing through his hair and lightly working out the tangles. He should probably get up and shower, his hair could clearly use some conditioner, but the bone-deep exhaustion that seeped into him once his body touched the bed told him that was not going to happen.
“If he’ll let us,” he had to add because that was the entire issue in a nutshell.
They can’t help someone that doesn’t want to be helped.
“You didn’t see the way he looked at you, Sho,” his husband’s voice was surer than he expected. “I don’t think many people have respected him enough to earn his trust before, it clearly meant a lot to him. He’ll come to you eventually.”
“Eventually,” he conceded, but there was still an insistent worry tightening in his chest. “I hope it won’t be too late.”