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It was summertime in the city, they were off school until summer training camp started up, something Shouta would have to spend with a baby on his hip and in the stupid summer courses. So, Oboro had decided that he would drag Shouta out of the house for a date at the seven-eleven in a familiar part of town. Shouta had lived there in the alleyways months before when his parents had kicked him out. The streets looked different, less sloshy, less wet, but the faces and buildings were all the same.
A sick feeling clenched his stomach to see the various faces on the streets. All of these people would ignore anyone who needed help. They always said the heros would come eventually, but heros don't bother with kids on the street. They don't bother with people who simply don't have a place to call home. They can't save everyone.
Shouta squeezed Oboro's hand as they entered the seven eleven.
The cashier was an elderly gentleman who had always been nice to Shouta when he was a pregnant youth on the street. He probably hadn't remembered Shouta at all.
At least Shouta would prefer it if the gentleman forgot him entirely.
Sure he had been nicer than most. Allowed him access to the bathroom, let him warm up on cold spring mornings, allowed him shelter when it rained, but Shouta had needed more and had hoped the old man would have pushed to give him more help. Rather than spew the same bullshit everyone else did. 'Eventually a hero will come.'
A hero never came.
Unless Shouta were to count Oboro and his mothers, but they didn't find him sleeping in an alley. No. They found out from Recovery Girl in late May and by that time Shouta had been on the streets since February. Way before he even met Oboro and Hizashi.
Way before he had been attending UA.
"Pick out anything you like," said Oboro with a grin as he took two cups of ice out of the industrial freezer.
Shouta scanned the drinks until he found a drink pouch that was some kind of pre-made herbal tea. He wanted coffee, but that would just make him more jumpy and paranoid about being back here. He could get strawberry milk, but on a hot day the last thing he wanted was to put dairy in his stomach.
They could have gone to a different seven-eleven, a different convenience store, but Shouta liked this one. They had a wide selection of deserts, drinks, and food.
Shouta grabbed a few onigiri. Some pickled plumb and an eel one. He scooted closer to Oboro. "Egg salad or sushi…"
Shouta chuckled a little. "Are you asking or talking outloud?"
"Talking." Oboro pouted. "I wish I could find tamales here," he whined.
If Oboro had wanted Tamales they could have stayed home with the newly born Hitoshi, but Shouta understood that this was for him as much as it was for Oboro.
Mama Camila was happy to take care of Hitoshi. They had enough formula and Shouta wouldn't be gone long.
"You want me to grab you something to drink?" Shouta asked.
Oboro lit up with a grin. "Oooh! Coffee so I can mix it with banana milk."
Shouta smiled a little and nodded before he went off to grab Oboro's drinks. When he returned Oboro had chosen an egg salad sandwich. They then went to go pay.
That is when the cashier gave Shouta the biggest smile. "Oh I haven't seen you around in a while," said the old man. "You had your littleone I see. Boy? Girl? Or playing it by year?"
Shouta shrank a little against Oboro. "Playing it by year." He shrugged.
"It's a real shame a hero didn't come by," said the older man. "And the people out there… they just keep turning their backs on you kids out there. Nice to see someone taking care of you."
Did the old man think Oboro was just taking care of him? Did he think Shouta was still out in the streets? Did he think Oboro was on the streets?
"Yeah," said Shouta. A real shame that heroes have to be all knowing beings who save everyone when civilians won't get in trouble for bringing an orphan in or showing human decency.
"Taking… care of him?" Oboro raised a brow and looked to Shouta then back to the man.
"Getting him food, drinks, a nice change of pace in this area," said the old man.
Oboro chuckled, Shouta could tell it wasn't a nice chuckle, no, Oboro chuckled with sickeningly sweet syrup and malice. "Oh… who else needs taking care of in this area?"
Shouta bounced on his feet and stared at the counter.
The old man scanned their goods and frowned. "Oh, a little boy. Really little… dirty."
"Imagine that!" Oboro had a friendly smile and searched through his wallet for the money needed. "Have a nice day."
They paid and Shouta gripped Oboro's t-shirt tightly. "Thank you," said Shouta and they exited the store.
They found a table not too far from the store, but far enough for Oboro to visually relax before tensing up again. "Fucking. Piece of shit. He knows he literally just played the 'Oh it's so bad a hero couldn't help. I did the bare fucking minimum while everyone else sat around' like dude. Yay for you? Fucking. And you're not a god damn charity case for good points." He mixed his drink in one of the ice cups and handed the other to Shouta. All the while switching from Japanese to Spanish. Fog had started to leak from his body like it usually does when his emotions are high. "Like--"
Shouta reached out to touch Oboro's hand. "I know you are upset, you are allowed this, but it's not worth getting riled up over." Hizashi had done the same thing when Recovery Girl made Shouta take the voice user down here to get his things.
Oboro huffed out a plume of dark thick fog from his mouth, then smiled, and intertwined their fingers.
Shouta ripped the tea pouch open with his teeth before pouring it into the other ice cup.
"Tell me again about your family," muttered Oboro as he took a sip of his drink. "I promise not to get worked up. I just… I never knew anything about them."
Shouta sighed heavily. "My dad is a businessman. He was born in a Japanese-American household and my mother is a housewife. She was raised in a Norwegian-German household in America. And they kicked me out of the house for being queer and slandering the name of a local up and coming hero."
Oboro stuck his tongue out. "Did you grow up with any traditions?"
Shouta shrugged. "My dad didn't let my mother express much of her culture and by the time I came around it was pretty much your typical Japanese family." They had spoken little English in their house. Which hadn't mattered much. It's not like Shouta spoke before the age of six.
Shouta shook his head out. "What are we going to do if we see the kid the cashier was talking about?"
Oboro tilted his head and twisted his expression. One eyebrow down the other up with eyes that sparkled like the sky above. "We do what the people on the street didn't do, Sho, we help."
Shouta smirked a little. "How silly of me to think otherwise."
They ate in relative silence, Shouta tapped his foot against Oboro's leg for a small stim, but Oboro didn't mind.
Shouta's knee began to bounce faster as a creeping sense of paranoia licked up his spine. He dropped what he was eating on the plastic it came in and snapped his head this way and that way.
Oboro's brow furrowed as he tilted his head. "Sho?"
Why was he anxious all of a sudden? Maybe it wasn't a quick onset of anxiety. Maybe it has just been steadily building since they arrived and now it was just becoming unbearable with the silence.
He needed to run. "I'll be right back," spewed Shouta as he bolted up to his feet, twisted his body so his back was to Oboro, and then sped down the street.
Shouta's heart jumped with each footfall on the sidewalk as panic constricted his chest. Why couldn't he just have a normal day? It was just a goddamn city street with people going about their day, paying no attention to the actions of a panicked teen, and they were actually actively avoiding him.
Shouta couldn't hear as Oboro shouted for him and he couldn't hear the woman who screamed over the rapid heartbeat in his ears.
Shouta only saw what they had been yelling about when he noted the dirty looking street kid holding up blood stained fingers as the wide eyed child had fallen in the pathway.
Shouta tripped, rolled with the momentum, lept over the kid and got back to his feet-- only to slam his back flat into the concrete. The absolutely feral street kid had knocked him over.
Shouta jumped in his skin and out of pure terror he activated his quirk before the child even slammed a hand down on him.
Shouta stared at the kid with glowing red eyes.
The kid blinked slowly as fuzzy red eyes cleared up back to the present, and then the kid started to cry.
Shouta picked the child up off of his chest, sat up, and flapped his hands in a way to get the kid's attention.
The kid rubbed at their eyes and tilted their head.
Shouta flapped his hands once more in too quick of a motion, so he repeated it again after taking a deep breath, he signed slower this time. "Sorry for almost running into you."
The kid stared at him with a wet snotty face.
"I'm sure that was scary," Shouta signed and waited.
Then waited.
And then he signed, "do you understand this?"
The kid nodded, but also shrugged. The dirty mop of tangled light blue bobbed with the movement.
"SHO!"
Shouta looked up to see Oboro coming down the sidewalk at a more reasonable pace. "Are you okay?" Oboro fell to his knees with the seven eleven bag and cupped Shouta’s cheeks.
Shouta blinked slowly, his hair fell over his eyes, and he pushed it out of the way. "Still panicked, but trying to breathe?"
Oboro's brow furrowed. "Okay there was a question mark there. I'm not used to ASL, but it's fascinating that you have trouble with English but not ASL."
Oh… that made sense why the kid probably could and couldn't understand him. Shouta's mom had been the one to teach him how to sign because it had been their secret during the non-verbal years of Shouta's life. Shouta knew JSL, but during moments like this he often fell back into ASL.
Oboro looked at the kid and smiled. "Oh hi there do you need help, little dude?"
The kid's eyes were still wide and darted from Shouta to Oboro.
Shouta squinted at the quick shaky hand movements. "Are you heroes?" The kid signed.
"No," signed Shouta. Because they technically weren't.
"But we can be your heros!" said Oboro as he fished one of the pickled plum onigiri from the bag. "Do you like pickled plum?"
Shouta put his hand out to stop Oboro.
Oboro frowned. "What the heck, Sho, why can't I give it to…"
Shouta signed quickly, but as the confusion grew on both Oboro's and the kid's faces Shouta just threw his hands up and croaked out. "We should ask if they would want to get off the streets and come with us to your house to wash up." He smacked his hands down a few times and scrubbed at his face in frustration.
"Yes," said a horse crackly voice.
Shouta and Oboro looked to the kid and then back at eachother.
Shouta frowned at the look in Oboro's eyes. That wild child energy circling in his beautiful blues.
"No," mouthed Shouta, but he was too late.
With a flourish and a twirl up to his feet Oboro manifested a cloud large enough for the five year old and them. "I can show you the world. . . Shining shimmering splendid--"
Shouta groaned as he placed the kid on the cloud and glared up at his boyfriend.
Oboro held his hand out to Shouta and grinned. "Tell me, princess, now when did you last let your heart decide?"
"We are not singing all the way back home," growled Shouta as he took the hand up anyways.
Oboro blew a raspberry and looked to the kid who was silently clapping. "Do you want me to sing all the way home?" He asked the kid.
The kid nodded quickly as Shouta fell onto his knees into the firm yet puffy cloud.
"Do you want Mx. Grumpy pants to sing along with me?" Oboro grinned like the cat that ate the canary.
The kid flapped their hands and nodded.
Shouta groaned again and rubbed at his face. "This is going to be a long Goddamn hour."
___
Shouta had felt an increasing loneliness and anxiety when Tenko started staying with them.
He knew it was his own issues, he knew it had nothing to do with Tenko, and he was happy to see the kid adjusting so well after the first few weeks.
Shouta found it cute that the kid had practically glued himself to Oboro. They would talk a lot about almost everything. Especially when they got the child to see a therapist. Oboro often went with the kid to therapy.
Tenko had a lot to go through, Shouta was glad Oboro could be the one to guide the kid, but at the same time… Shouta felt like an empty pit.
Shouta was… tired. Burned out from a month old baby, keeping up with his workout routines, and crying himself to sleep every night because he didn't want to burden anyone else with his bullshit problems.
Bullshit problems that included increased anxiety that someone was following him. When he took Tenko and Hitoshi to the park. When he went to the grocery store. When he was teaching Tenko quirk control in a secluded area.
That anxiety turned into paranoia when the letters started to show up. They were threatening and always held photographs of Shouta and the kids. Shouta and Oboro teaching Tenko how to use a staff if they didn't want to use their quirk. Shouta and Hizashi on a date. Shouta and Oboro on a date. All three of them getting Tenko ice cream after a rough therapy session.
It made him sick. It made his insides liquefy and hollowed him out. Shouta wondered how much longer he could take this.
"I'm sorry I haven't been attentive, Sho," muttered Oboro as he caught Shouta's latest nightly breakdown.
Oboro had no business thinking he was the problem when he wasn't.
He couldn't let Oboro think that.
Shouta scrubbed at his face. "It's not that, you're doing everything right, I'm just…" he had to tell Oboro. Tenko was asleep in the nursery with Hitoshi, and Shouta needed to tell someone. "someone is… sending threatening letters and following me."
Oboro blinked slowly and then rapidly. "Have you ever seen the guy?"
Shouta nodded slowly. He had actually seen the man not long ago at the market when he was picking up formula (and a new bottle nipple) for Hitoshi and some yarn for Mama Camila. She wanted to make Tenko a sweater. Thinking they would have him long enough for the cold seasons. "He had white hair and was wearing a suit with a bowler hat maybe?" Shouta fished the letters from under his bed and handed them to Oboro.
Oboro's face fell as he read them. As he saw the pictures. "Sho… Honey. Baby. Why didn't you tell me sooner? Why didn't you tell Hizashi?"
Shouta shrugged. "I didn't want to worry you guys or Tenko…" because it had all started when Tenko was brought here.
Shouta knew all of this was probably to wear either him or the kid down, he would never blame the kid for the actions of a stalker.
Oboro frowned and set the letters aside. "Tenko isn't the reason--"
Shouta put his hand to Oboro's mouth. "Oboro, are you seriously going to give me the 'it's not the victim's fault for the actions of the abuser' line? I'm not saying Tenko is the problem. The guy doing this shit is the problem and I'm fairly certain he wants Tenko." Shouta didn't know for what and maybe he would never know.
"I'm saying that we need to be careful because people like this? They will do anything to shatter any sense of--" Shouta cut himself off and bolted to his feet. Tenko should be snoring by now on the little baby monitor, but it was too quiet. "Something is wrong." It was never this quiet when the kids went to bed. Tenko snored when he entered REM sleep. He'd play that stupid cute animal game theme song and sleep through it as he pressed the paw of his stuffed animal over and over again.
It never was. Quiet.
He didn't wait and started to run from their bedroom to the nursery. Which used to be Mama Camila's craft room. There were still various yarn balls around and Oboro's other mother's clown collection mixed with Oboro's clown collection, but it was the best place for the kids. The window had a lock and curtains and various outlets for nightlights.
When Shouta skidded into the room it was dark--except for Tenko's favorite night light which projected the constellations.
Shouta flicked on the light, much to Hitoshi's dismay, the baby only now started to fuss in his crib, and with the lights on it was clear to see why it had been so quiet.
Tenko was gone. "Fuck."
Shouta checked the window to find the latch still locked in place, then he bolted toward the front door to see it was unlocked, and once more he shouted. "Fuck!"
Oboro came up behind him the words a fuzzy buzzing in Shouta's ears. Shouta ran out the door and shouted, "Tenko!"
He glanced down the street and frowned. He couldn't see hide nor tail of the kid.
Shouta rubbed at his face and ran his hands through his hair. Had he heard what they were talking about and decided he was causing them too much pain? That it would just be easier to run to whatever fucked up individual who had been breaking them down.
Shouta only realized he was still running when his knees gave out and he fell down hard onto the concrete.
Was it his fault Tenko ran away?
Shouta didn't know how long he stared at the weed peeking through the sidewalk when Oboro found him. "Hey. It's okay. It's okay."
Shouta didn't push against the warmer body. "I'm sorry," croaked Shouta.
Oboro's hand stilled against Shouta's hair. "Why are you sorry?"
"... he really liked you…" Shouta turned his head to bury it in Oboro's sleep shirt. "And… God knows what he heard me say…"
"You're being paranoid and hard on yourself," said Oboro as he squeezed Shouta tighter. "I woke mom and mama up and they are calling a few night owl neighbors to see if they have spotted him. It's going to be okay."
Was it? Shouta could never be a pessimist around Oboro even when he wanted to be. Oboro was just so uplifting and made that inadequate feeling go away. "What if he went willingly?"
Oboro's facade cracked along the edges and it broke Shouta to see anything but a smile on Oboro's face.
"I mean…" Shouta scrubbed at his face. "Like… if I was getting threats he might have also??? He is five and he didn't want anyone to get hurt after his quirk… I'm not meaning that… I know he saw you as his dad and he is fucking five and five year olds can't make concrete choi--"
Oboro grabbed Shouta by the face. "Shouta Aizawa you are freaking out way too much and need to stop."
Shouta went quiet, his hair fell back into his face as he blinked slowly, and realized he had lost control of his quirk; however, the minute it was gone Oboro had been swallowed up by mist. Clearly also distraught and just pretending for Shouta's sake.
Shouta wrapped his arms around Oboro and held him tightly. They were too young for this. Too naive. "Let's go back home…" said Shouta as he got to his feet and helped Oboro up. "We should be at home…"
The mist around Oboro fluctuated and bobbed with a nod. "Yeah. Someone still needs us there."
They walked back home, hand in hand, and hip to hip.
. . .
Unknown to them a mere six feet away hidden by a fenced in yard was young Tenko, heart broken with guilt that would swallow him whole, and a tall man in a suit. "I'm… not going to hurt them anymore?" The kid asked the tall man.
The man grinned wide and patted Tenko on the back. "Not if you come with me and do exactly as I say."
Tenko looked over his shoulder as the teens disappeared into the night. "Okay."
END