Chapter Text
Blood covered the boy’s clothes, soaking up around his knees and elbows. Decaying smell, flesh that rotted and ashed the crushed, permeated across the hallway and licked up the walls. His hair stood up, jumping for the sky as if it had been yanked harshly, and the fingers of a hand pushed through, keeping it held up and covered in sweat and grime. Scratches laced around his neck, turning his skin pink and pulling up specks of blood, a result of his other hand scattering over his open skin and racing toward his face.
Despite the obvious horrid state of the kid, Aizawa Shouta felt more concerned about the bundled child leaning against him and the shaking that filled both of them. Both shook from the bright red shoes to the large stained blanket he cradled closely.
A green blanket swaddled the smaller child, who leaned forward into the older boy and hid any features that he possessed. Blood marred the blanket wrapped around him, but still the small child trembled and let out the occasional noise.
Aizawa stepped forward, slapping his foot against the ground in an effort to create the sound of a footstep. The half-stomp echoed down the hall and circled around the boy, whose head bowed forward still.
For a moment, Aizawa’s heart dropped and his thoughts jumped to the fact that the boy must be dissociating.
But then dark eyes darted around the hallway and the boy’s hands jumped up to his neck to create larger scratches, and his feet danced against the tiled floor. Dark eyes met darker eyes and the world froze.
Only an hour before, Shouta had answered a call from Japan’s newest fostering system, which had brought him to the station.
“We know it’s late, but a new case just opened and with your emergency fostering license… and quirk, we think that you’d be best suited for it.” A cheerful voice had sprung across the phone, weeding its way through specific wordings and phrases. “It’s a complicated case, with more than one kid. Would you be able to handle it?”
“I’m going to need more info than that before I commit to something this important.”
The voice had sighed. “Of course, that only makes sense, but I can only tell you so much about this case.”
“Spit it out.” Shouta had pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m in the middle of work right now.”
“Two boys, brothers,” the voice had replied, “The oldest one’s quirk came in, but it had repercussions that ended… with the death of the family.”
Maybe it was the tone of the person or maybe it was the nature of the case itself that had dragged him from his dark abode. Something had wormed his way into his heart, crashing against the reservations that he had. Despite the warning that flared in his mind, he had found himself pushing through groups of people to pass into the deeper parts of the station. Officers had hurried past him, brushing against his shoulder in tight squeezes, and other people had pressed against the walls to move out of his way.
“Kid?” Shouta’s voice paled against the chatter behind him and he stepped into the hallway, letting his footsteps echo forward.
The boy jolted and looked up, his eyes widening as one of his hands pressed into the side of his cheek. His nails drew blood as his body froze.
“It’s okay,” Shouta muttered, “I’m a hero.”
“Hero?” The boy squeaked. “You’re a hero?”
Before he could answer, before he could even move forward, one of the doors at the end of the hallway squeaked open. A frazzled-looking officer tumbled out and papers crumbled in his arms, squishing against his chest. His eyes darted down the hallway, freezing at the sight of the kid.
“Shit,” the officer mumbled and glanced back at the closing door. His shoulders slumped a moment later and he spun toward them, his head dropping with his gaze cowering. As he scurried past the kid, he pressed himself against the far wall and cast a look out of the corner of his eyes.
Shouta’s stomach dropped, his shoulders tensing as the boy looked at the ground and the shaking in his shoulders grew. Tears grew fresh in his eyes and threatened to spill down his swollen cheeks.
The officer brushed past him and disappeared behind him.
His knuckles cracked as he squeezed his nails into his palms.
“It’ll be alright, kid.” Shouta managed to force his hand into his pockets and force his feet forward. “My name is Aizawa Shouta, I’m going to be fostering you for a while.”
“Me?” The boy looked up, tears glistening in his eyes and his lips shook. “What… what about…”
The bundle sighed and shivered, pulling at Shouta’s mind.
“Both of you.”
Those tears spilled out of the boy’s eyes, streaking down his cheeks and dotting his clothes. Blood welled out of the scratches along his neck and face as he looked down at the bundle on his lap. A faltering smile filled his face, wobbling as his gaze fell upon his brother. His hands hovered over the smaller child before pulling away and back to the skin on his neck.
Shouta kneeled in front of the two. “Tenko, right? And this is Izuku?”
“Zuku,” Tenko replied, “he’s too cute for Izuku.”
“Can I see him?”
“No! Don’t take him!” Air flew through the boy’s mouth and his legs jumped up, squeezing the bundle closer to his chest. Izuku let out a small sound, a whimper that shook the air.
“It’s okay, Tenko.” Shouta leaned back, pulling his hands away and trying to smile. “You can keep him close.”
Tenko leaned his head forward, tears welling up in his eyes as he turned his head away. His hair brushed against the bundled child in front of him and for a moment, Shouta wondered if the two brothers looked alike.
Their case was going to be difficult and complicated, to the point that no other foster families had agreed to take them, emergency or otherwise. Tenko’s quirk awakening had resulted in their entire family dying, except for Izuku who had been on a playdate with a neighbor. While it wasn’t Tenko’s fault, he was only a child, he was going to need intensive therapy, and would have to be seen in court to determine whether or not it had been intentional.
The thought alone grated Shouta’s skin.
“Your quirk has five-finger activation, right?” Shouta asked.
Tenko nodded.
“I brought something to help with that.” Shouta pulled a pair of yellow gloves from his pocket. For each, he had cut away at the index and middle fingers, to create an artist's glove. “This will stop you from accidentally using your quirk… which means you can hold your brother.”
Light flickered behind Tenko’s eyes and his body straightened like an arrow. His hand shot toward the gloves but stopped a moment short. Trembles filled his hand as it hovered over them and a wobble bit at his lips.
A pang shot through Shouta’s heart as a pained expression overtook Tenko’s face.
“How… how do I put them on without…?” Tenko whispered.
Shouta shifted the gloves in his hands and schooled his face into a neutral expression. “Let me put them on for you.”
The boy nodded and Shouta set forth, pulling one of the gloves onto Tenko’s outstretched hand. It was a small act of trust, just a moment that Tenko was allowing him to prove himself. He doubted the boy even realized.
“This type of glove is called an artist glove,” Shouta explained as he finished pulling the fabric over the boy’s wrist, “It lets them draw on tablets without messing up their drawing. Archers have a similar type of glove, to keep their fingers from hurting when they draw the string back on the bow. This led to variations being made for all kinds of quirks. Lots of people with a five-finger activation quirk use gloves like these to keep their own quirks under control, usually when they’re sleeping.”
“Oh.”
“You can wear these whenever you want,” Shouta said, “but you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
Tenko’s gaze pierced through him at those words, as if he was looking at something beyond him. Shouta’s heart wobbled for a moment, wondering if the boy was looking into his soul, and a small pain filled his chest as the boy turned away.
Tenko's hands fell to rest on the bundled child in his lap, before slowly squeezing and releasing the blanket around him. Then the boy pulled the bundle closer, his arms wrapping around him in a squeeze, and tears welled up once again.
Sobs rose into existence as Tenko held his younger brother close and those tears dripped down his face. Another whimper sniffled out of the bundle, before rising to meet the sobs. They echoed down the hallway as Shouta kneeled in front of them, a healing sound that grated the nerves, but something that was needed for them to survive.
Together, the two brothers wept in a police station, without a family to hold them and with blood covering them from head to toe.
---
There were going to be a few problems with fostering the two brothers, besides the courts and intensive therapy that would be involved. Each one had circled around Shouta’s mind on their way to his apartment.
For one, Izuku was a baby who hadn’t developed a quirk yet. There was a possibility that he could have a quirk like his brother’s, which is why other foster families had turned him away, but Shouta wasn’t optimistic about it. Either way, he hadn’t intended to ever foster a baby, but he’d raise hell before he had to separate siblings in foster care.
Secondly, Shouta had never expected to foster more than one child at a time, so he had never bothered to make sure his spare room could house two children.
“I only have one bed for the both of you right now,” Shouta said as he opened the door to his apartment, “but I have a friend helping me figure out getting another bed for you.”
Tenko nodded, holding Izuku closer to him once again, and slid inside the apartment.
“He’ll be here soon,” Shouta added as he followed, “He’s bringing things for Izuku since he’s still a baby.”
The boy gazed around the apartment as his feet grew roots into the floor, a tremble overcoming his arms. The station's oversize clothes bagged around him as he cradled his brother closer to him. Despite the new clean state of the boys, no longer dirty or marred with evidence of what had happened, it was easy to see the weight of the event on both of them.
“I’ll give you a quick tour,” Shouta said, “Then you can get settled in your room… we can talk about rules and expectations tomorrow, alright?”
“Okay.”
Shouta moved into the apartment, pressing a hand on the back of the boy to uproot his feet. Together, they traveled through the apartment.
It was a tiny apartment, compressed but minimalistic. The front door opened up into a small area next to the kitchen, with a closet and a place for shoes. Tenko kicked his shoes off of his feet, carefully balancing his brother in his arms.
The kitchen opened up to the left after the closet, which Tenko ignored and moved past. Just beyond the kitchen, opened another space that worked as a living room and dining room area. A cat tree was pushed into the far corner of the room, and a small blob of a cat lounged on top of it. It glanced at them, before turning away and falling back to sleep.
Mochi had a lack of care for the world that Shouta envied.
Then they turned to a small hallway that ran further back into the apartment, connecting to the two bedrooms and a fairly large bathroom.
The spare room was to the left, nestling closer to the kitchen. Tenko shuffled into it with his head down, his shoulders slumped.
“If you need anything, please let me know.” Shouta leaned his head forward. “I’ll be in the kitchen for a while, so if you’re hungry, I can make you something. Also, once the baby formula is here, I’ll make some for Izuku to have and if you want, you can feed him.”
“Okay.” The boy nodded and held Izuku closer. “Can I go to bed now?”
“No need to ask, go ahead.”
Weariness covered Shouta as the boy shut the door behind him and sank into the room beyond. He leaned back against the hallway wall, raising a hand to push through his hair as his eyes squeezed shut.
And finally the last problem: they were going to be the first children that he had ever fostered.
There was no way that he was going to be able to do it alone.
Hizashi. Shouta pushed himself off of the wall and wandered toward the kitchen. When are you going to get here?
He wondered if he would be able to repay the man for his kindness, for his ability to gladly wake up in the middle of the night and run to a 24-hour store to help him. For being his friend.
They had been friends for years, almost over a decade now, ever since they met at UA high. Ever since the man had never stopped with his overwhelming flow of kindness and empathy, it was a trait that Shouta equally envied and loved.
If there was one person in the world that he would do anything for, it was Hizashi.
He knew that Hizashi saw him in the same way too.
Especially considering he was out buying diapers and baby food at the crack of dawn.
Bitter, but comforting, smells filled the air as Shouta pushed the coffee maker to work. The meticulous task took over him and pulled memories to the front of his mind. From the first time that he tried coffee to the first time that he met Hizashi.
His friend loved the drink, so when he found out that Shouta hadn’t ever had coffee, he had dragged him to the nearest cafe. He spent hours coercing him into trying drink after drink, spilling the brown drink across the counter and laughing at the faces Shouta made.
“Where do you have the money for this?” Shouta had asked.
Hizashi had waved a hand. “Christmas money saved on coffee, my parents give me more than they think I’ll drink in a year.”
“Just how much coffee do you drink?” Shouta had asked.
“Secrets, secrets,” Hizashi had replied with a wag of his finger.
The moment had accumulated into an ongoing addiction to caffeine between the both of them. Thousands of presents, all caffeine based, gifted between each other for years, hundreds of hangouts in cafes, and hours spent sipping on the bitter drinks as their conversation lulled on.
Shouta associated the drink with Hizashi as much as he associated it with his ability to live.
The pot of coffee finished hissing at him, drawing his attention to the quietness outside of his mind.
His hands swept up two cups, one the color of the sun and the other drawn in shadows. He stopped before he could fill the cups, not knowing if they’d grow cold before Hizashi could arrive. At least if the coffee pot stayed in the machine, it would stay warm.
Exhaustion filled his bones as he leaned against the counter.
He wished for Hizashi to arrive sooner.
Hizashi would love the two boys, he knew, and would shower them with gifts. Images of Hizashi with the brothers filled his mind. Cradling Izuku in his arms and playing peekaboo for hours, all while cooing with his quirk. Journeys to the park with Tenko and trying new foods, whispering about gossip from the newest hero fan page. Each thought warmed Shouta’s heart, curling around it like a blanket and cradling it with comfort.
Heat rushed through his face as he realized the feeling circling him. The blush circled up to his ears and he shook his head.
These feelings had circled around him for years.
Despite being a pro-hero, he had never had the courage to face them.
He’d rather face a gun-wielding maniac than talk about them.
A knock at his door dragged him out of his thoughts before it swung open and the man of his dreams tumbled through. Packages teetered in his hands and wobbled through the doorway, spinning his way into the kitchen.
“Shouta!” Hizashi smiled to his side. “Your personal messenger has arrived!”
“Hizashi, quiet,” Shouta said.
Hizashi’s eyes widened. “They sleeping?”
Shouta shrugged. “They should have settled in a few minutes ago, I don’t know if they’ve fallen asleep since then or not.”
“Ah,” Hizashi said, “Well, let me show you the haul that I brought.”
Bags tipped over on the counter, spilling their contents across the surface. It was good enough to cover for a short while, but they’d need to get more things to accommodate Izuku. Packages of diapers, mixtures of baby formula, mounds of clothing, and a small bed stared up at Shouta.
“Is that a dog bed?”
Red filled Hizashi’s face. “They didn’t have any cradles, but the dog beds… it can fit a baby for now right?”
“I can’t believe you bought a dog bed for a baby.”
“Stop making fun of me!” Hizashi whined, his head falling upon Shouta’s shoulder. “I’m doing my best!”
Shouta shook his head before leaning his own head against the man's head. “I know you are, thank you.”
“Ah!” Hizashi gasped, pulling away. “Is that coffee?”
“Don’t take it all!”
Coffee steamed the edges of the cups and pressed warmth into the hands that held them. Shouta breathed deeply as he moved to sit at his counter, holding the cup closer to him as he took his first sip. The bitter taste crawled across his tongue, an accustomed but welcome flavor.
Hizashi slid into the stool next to him and poured the drink into his mouth, the liquid sloshing as he gulped it down audibly. Long ago, the way that his friend drank had grated his nerves, but eventually, it had become a welcome tone.
“So, tell me about the little munchkins.” Hizashi placed the cup on the counter and smiled at him. “You didn’t tell me anything, other than that one is a baby.”
Shouta looked up at him, feeling the loneliness that had snuck in slowly fade away from him.
“Ah, well they’re brothers.” Shouta set his own cup down. “Izuku is the baby, he’s got a lot of green hair, but other than that I don’t know much about him. Tenko, the older brother, hasn’t let me take a look at him.”
“Oh, protective?”
Shouta nodded. “It makes sense… about a day ago, Tenko’s quirk came in. It’s a dangerous one that he couldn’t control, which resulted in his family dying.”
A pained noise left Hizashi's throat, his body leaning toward him. “That poor kid.”
“Izuku only survived because he was on a playdate with a neighbor.” Shouta rubbed Hizashi’s head as it leaned against him again. “The neighbors weren’t close enough to take the boys in, they thought it was better if blood relatives took them in. Unfortunately, they don’t have any blood relatives that are willing to take them in.”
“So, they called you?” Hizashi’s arm wrapped around his waist, rubbing at his hip. “It sounds like a complicated case.”
“It is.”
“Hmm, well, at least you have me to help you.”