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Shouta
Shouta was having a bad day. Perhaps worse than all his other days. He didn't feel like talking, nor did he feel like listening. He wanted absolute silence, and he wanted to Breathe. Not a lot of things bring him to feel like this. Maybe it was the pressure of getting his students ready to be soldiers, or the crushing weight of having a dear friend pass away. It was the anniversary. Either way, he didn't want to be alone.
The only comfort, in his desperation, was the thought that in the grand scheme of things, he wasn't ever truly alone. He had his partner, who fought and struggled just as he did, who laughed, and cried, and felt things with the same intensity that everyone else does. Because they're both human, they're both alive. And they both love each other deeply.
He didn't know how to get Hizashi to be with him without speaking. He couldn't call, or yell, or scream, or beg for his company with the deep struggles he felt. He just didn't want to talk.
He wasn't alone in the office. There were other teachers, his colleagues, he seemed to glance his way when he grunted in discomfort, or sniffled a little. He must have a strange look on his face, because quite a few of their gazes lingered on his face, looking like their own skeletons were weighing them down. Thirteen looked downtrodden, Snipe looked sad. Nemuri was concerned, at the very least. She was watching them all with fierce emotion in her eyes, though she, too, was sullen.
Hizashi wasn't here. He was either in his classroom, or he was off around the school, monitoring the corridors.
Was he lonely too? Shouta didn't want him to be, though he did wish he was here.
He wondered how often his own emotions affected other people. He'd been told as a kid, a drama kid, that his acting brought tears to anyone's eyes. So maybe it wasn't even real emotion that did that to people.
Shouta carefully examined everyone that came and went while the seconds ticked by, each entering the downtrodden atmosphere with the grace of hesitance in their posture.
Did Hizashi feel like this? Sad. Lonely. Desolate. Like the world was an ocean, his body the driftwood, and his mind the helpless soul caught in the middle of the storm. It was raining, metaphorically. Shouta wasn't crying, but he sure felt like it.
Ugh, this feeling is the worst. He can't get over the mental hurdle of not having his husband at his side all the time.
He didn't need Hizashi all the time. They could co-exist without desperate want for each other. But today, he surely just needed him close. Close enough to feel their breaths mingle, seconds away from a kiss. He wanted to press their foreheads together, and warm Hizashi's naturally cold side with his unusually warm one.
Maybe Shouta should go look for him, since his loneliness was starting to creep up, like the ebb and flow of a merciless tide on the beach covered in old driftwood from other people caught in the waters, long since having received the affection they crave.
It started to upset his stomach, as well as make him cry. He didn't cry very often, but when he did, he felt dumb. Especially for crying for dumb reasons. He wasn't alone. There were numerous people there. Why was he so lonely? He wasn't entirely sure. He's sure a few people would argue that loneliness isn't defined as isolation, but simply as not having your preferred company. He wanted his partner.
He wanted to run his hands through his long blond hair, and cuddle into his chest, and maybe smell the cologne that he may have used today. He wanted to hold his hand.
Was that so much to ask?
Hizashi
Hizashi was sad. To put it simply, he wanted to be near his husband. They didn't get a whole lot of chances to be together alone, and when they did, they talked a lot. Hizashi just wanted to be quiet. He didn't want to teach English, nor did he want to be a hero right now. His only dream for the immediate future is to have Shouta cuddle into his side, and have his fingers running through his soft black hair.
He may be the voice hero, he may be known for being loud, but he was desperate for some sweet silence.
Waiting for the rehearsal bell to ring, he imagined having Shouta in his arms, sharing warmth.
Was it weird to be this attached to the idea of romance? Was it weird to feel this hopeless without being in the arms of his partner?
He drummed his fingers against the polished wood of the desk, waiting as the seconds ticked by.
English class was usually fine. He had fun teaching it. He let time take him by the hand, and laughed with him as the days he spent doing the things he loved rushed by. Five years old, ten, fifteen years old. All the way to thirty-one, his age today. Age certainly weighs on a person when they're left with their thoughts.
He and Shouta had quiet mornings. This happened to be one of them. They woke up, got ready for work, and drove to UA with silence deafening them. It was pleasant, when it was voluntary.
He decided to focus today's English lesson on wordless communication. He's sure he could speak, if he tried, but he doesn't want to do that. So he doesn't
He waved politely to his students, each starting up their own conversations about whatever goings-on compelled them. Some spoke of events in their personal lives, and some chattered about classes they had next. He didn't get onto them for speaking in his class. For two reasons. He had a fun and easy environment in his classroom, and he didn't want to ruin it. And he noticed that some of them were incorporating his lessons into their dialog.
Some of them whispered to each other about the other teachers, and for that, Hozashi was listening intently. They talked about who would be a good match for who, not unlike he and the other teachers do to or for students when two or more of them made a particularly attractive relationship opportunity.
He noticed that they tried to keep all proceedings involving Hizashi very hush-hush, but today was somehow quite different.
They were talking about Hizashi's potential lover. Midnight was at the top of the list, before they started including the possibility of Hizashi being gay.
They whispered about good male partners for Hizashi, never questioning whether or not he already had one, and he was the love of his life.
He heard a few words, and the world came crashing down.
Present Mic and Eraserhead? No way.
He didn't know whether or not he should be proud or upset. Proud, because he and Shouta were hiding it relatively well. Upset because they didn't think he and Shouta were compatible? Even a little?
He found himself longing for the embrace of his husband once again, and he struggled to speak in the class when it was necessary. It was like his battery for functionality was depleted, and the only charger around was his beautiful husband.
He decided to teach these teenagers some basic greetings and various forms of nonverbal dealings, before he displayed a few first-form English Vocab, to test them, without having to introduce new dialog.
Eventually that large bell tolled, and the students were let out for lunch. Hizsshi could have counted himself as 'hungry', but he was more inclined to cuddle with his spouse than he was to sit down and spend another hour, while having the ability to regain energy in a loving embrace, but not doing so.
No thanks.
He briskly strode down the halls of the school, weaving around students going here or there, head and heart set on a clamorous destination.
He slid the door to the teacher's office open, and not one teacher in there failed to greet him. Shouta had his own way. Pressing the ring finger usually hosting the silver band to his nose, and smiling at him.
It was their own subtle way to say hello, without anyone knowing their true meaning.
He melted at the sight of his husband, taking long strides across the room to scoop his love into his arms, and press their foreheads together like if he didn't he would die.
He took a deep breath, feeling Shouta's hands rest on his shoulders to ease his discomfort, neither saying a word in the presence of the other. They took deep, calming breaths against each other, letting each other feed off their love.
Together in spirit, together in love.
Two souls, holding out for each other, letting one another know the feel of their comforting hands warm or cold, against their face. Two minds, thinking of each other in their time of need, and even when comfort was all they felt they still held the care to the highest regard.
Hizashi's oasis.
Shouta
The relief he felt when Hizashi walked into the teacher's office must have been obvious, because everyone else in the room also relaxed just a little.
Hizashi wasted not a single second, until they were finally together, right next to each other.
Shouta didn't believe in the thin red line connecting them, but ever since he met, and married Hizashi, he believed in soulmates.
That was the only explanation Shouta had for their connection. It was like the other was a sparkling oasis in the desert the world has become, never really knowing exactly how much you need it until it's right in front of you, and suddenly it's the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.
Hizashi was Shouta's oasis, and he knew, certainly, without a doubt, feeling Hizashi's breath on his neck as they enjoyed each other's presence, that it was the same the other way around.
He felt Hizashi kiss his forehead, somehow knowing that Shouta needed it. He couldn't blame how he felt that afternoon on anything but the absence of an oasis. But here he was, right in front of him.
They must have stayed like that, curled up together, for hours. Teachers came and went, a few gawking at their openness.
A few of them were a little more dull about it, thinking they must be sleeping on the job. Sharing warmth because it was cold in the school that day, and not because being physically intimate with one's partner is the best way to provide comfort.
Despite the dull weather, or perhaps because of it, Shouta had had a long day. And it wasn't even past noon yet.
The best thing Shouta felt he could do was cozy up to Hizashi's chest, feeling the rhythmic rise and fall of a heart beating for only him, comforting his own weary slump. Hizashi seemed to take the contact in kind, pulling Shouta ever closer as if he was the blond's missing piece. The puzzle, like all things, and all other puzzles, was confusing, but somehow the most simple one to answer. It was like a blockade of swirling doubt, loneliness, and fear swam up and planted itself wherever it could in Shouta, until Hizashi swooped in and clicked into his empty side, bringing comfort and divine courage to Shouta with every steadying breath he took.
Like a riddle seeking its answer, Hizashi was everything Shouta needed.
They must have spent hours like that, curled up together. They certainly hadn't done anything other than draw comfort from each other, not speaking, barely seeing, and only feeling the soft touch of the other.
Hizashi laughed, and Shouta felt the melody vertebrate through them both. Comfort. It was times like this that it was as clear as a fire in the desolate winter. They needed each other. Two halves of a whole.
Hizashi
They eventually had to separate, holding hands until the last possible second. They were sure that they could get through the next few hours without that level of lingering loneliness. Or at least, Hizashi was sure.
Shouta clung to him, like he always did when life got to be too much, but Hizashi was sure they would both be fine. They just had to survive a few more hours until school was out, and they could go home.
They pressed their foreheads together, and then let go.
The rest of the day really sucked. It was like the energy they had gathered when they were together flew away like a bird free-er than both of them.
A few students stopped by and asked if he was alright, but he waved them off. They seemed concerned, but didn't push it. They must have assumed some tragedy happened to take up so much of Hizashi's usual happiness, fake as it was sometimes.
Nemuri also stopped by to say hi, informing him that Shouta was also struggling, which was very not what he needed to hear. Hearing what Shouta's going through, when he can't do shit to help him, made the hollow bleakness in his chest to cave in just a little more, a gaping hole for his heart to fall through.
Nemuri apologized for what was going on, like it was her fault, and was almost ready to give him a hug, it seemed. But he moved away from her, and she immediately backed off.
Hizashi slumped at his desk, feeling the world's anxiety settle on his shoulders as a permanent fixture. Forever there, forever burdening, forever scorned. Hizashi bets it would have gone away if Shouta was still right next to him.
Two more hours. Then they could go home.
The classes droned by. Hizashi tried to speak as little as possible.
He mainly taught English, but sometimes he was asked to sub for other classes when the teachers had their own shit to deal with. Like now. Ectoplasm had to go underground for some kind of case that they needed his specific expertise for, so Hizashi was stuck teaching his class.
Here in math class, he revisited his worst nightmare. Meme cults. These kids were very obviously not paying attention to him at all, and he was getting ready to blow up at them, which they really didn't deserve.
So he slapped the book on the table, and told them if they didn't shut up and listen, they would have detention. He didn't usually dole out detention, but he absolutely would if it came to it. He was brutal in this class.
Nobody liked it when Hizashi taught math class.
But that was okay, because Hizashi didn't like it here either. Math was the bane of all things heroic. Language of the universe bullshit.
He took a deep breath, and worked through his anger, attempting for the third time to teach these kids how decimals move.
After Maths, he had one final class. His homeroom.
He taught 1-C basically little bits of everything. It was his favorite class, followed quickly by teaching English.
At least his kids were respectful. They stayed quiet when he spoke, and let him actually teach the lesson. The only kids with more restraint in class was 1-A, and that was probably only because Shouta taught them.
Fuck, he had been doing pretty good, distracting himself. Now he was hurting again.
Was this pathetic? To be this desperate to be near his husband. His married long ago, black haired, beautiful spouse?
Maybe.
But he wasn't about to just give up. He wanted to be near him, and he wasn't ashamed to admit it to anyone that that was the case.
He only had a few minutes, twenty in total, before he could rejoin Shouta at home. They arrived together, and they would leave together.
Maybe tomorrow won't be so difficult. Hopefully.
He coached the kids through this lesson, talking to them about plans for future lessons, and what they were assigned to do at home.
He really wished he could stop talking. Just go back to a pleasant silence. But no. No, his voice had to burn his throat. It had to be used. He needed to speak, at least for now.
He wondered if Shouta would request conversation on the way home. Hizashi would be glad to try if he did, but that silent morning usually meant they were silent all day, so it didn't matter.
Finally,
Finally,
The damn bell rang that merry tune, signaling to kids and teachers alike that school was over. He called to request that the kids not forget their homework, and sent them on their way.
Then he was going his own way, almost skipping down the hall to see Shouta.
He was in the teacher's office, sitting on the sofa in the far back of the room, waiting for him.
He lit up when he saw Hizashi, and they made their way to the car, holding hands just out of sight.
No students noticed. No one even realized they were there. Shouta always had a fear of other people finding out about them, and reacting horribly. Shouta pretended not to care what people think, but Hizashi could tell it worried him quite a bit.
The drive was silent. Almost tense, but they were still holding hands, despite Hizashi's usual insistence that he needed both hands to drive. His other hand, his left one, gripped the steering wheel firmly, making sure they were steady so Hizashi could provide comfort for Shouta, and receive it too.
The house was nearly silent. Their cat came bounding out to meet them, and Shouta scooped her up, and pulled Hizashi to the couch.
Casanova, their elderly cat, was content in Shouta's arms, even after they both sat down, and bundled together under a blanket.
The Yamada-Aizawas, Shouta and Hizashi.
Free. Together in mind, body, and spirit, they found their Oasis.
Their home.