Work Text:
“Are you busy tomorrow morning?”
Hizashi looks up from his computer. “No. Why?”
“Can you be at the civil office at 7:15?”
Hizashi waits, foolishly, for Shouta to elaborate. He does not. Really, Hizashi should have known better.
“Of course, man, but…” He grapples with his words, trying to find a way to phrase his next question that won’t spook Shouta. He quickly gives up. “Why?”
Shouta tucks his paperwork into his desk drawer, closing it with a thud. Relief washes over Hizashi. His habit of staying late to work on lesson plans has worsened now that they’re living on campus. It’s a good sign if he’s packing up now.
“I need a witness.” The words are accompanied by a long-suffering sigh. “All you need to do is stand there while I sign something. If you can manage to stay quiet for longer than thirty seconds.”
Hizashi draws up in mock offence. “That’s a low blow and you know it. Really , Shou, is that any way to ask your best buddy to do such a generous favour for you? Do you know how early I’ll have to be awake just to look presentable? These good looks don’t come naturally.”
Shouta fails to rise to the banter. Honestly, Hizashi wonders why he bothers. Shouta’s rarely an auspicious target for his genius wit. It’s just another of his many charms. Oddly enough, Hizashi loves him anyway.
He sighs, resigning himself to defeat as he pulls out his phone. “7:15, you said?”
Shouta makes a sound that generally means affirmation. Hizashi keys it in amongst his already copious amount of alarms, with an hour to spare. Then he sets another for twenty minutes beforehand, just to be safe. “Are you even going to tell me what the heck I’ve signed up for?”
“No.” Shouta, true to his word, does not look back on his way to the door. “Goodnight.”
Izuku races down the steps of the Heights Alliance with a concerning amount of urgency. Anyone who sees him would probably think there’s an emergency. Anyone who knows him would just assume he’s on his way to capitalise on the latest All Might merchandise drop. His real goal is only slightly more important.
The familiar thrill of One For All’s power prickles beneath his skin, bolstering his legs. He shouldn’t have allowed himself to get so distracted talking with Shouto. It’s just so easy to get lost in conversation with him. It was only a stroke of luck that he’d glanced at the clock over the door and realised he had less than two minutes to get to the front gate.
If he doesn’t make it in time, he’ll never forgive himself. All Might is counting on him. Izuku can’t fail now.
The gates are in sight. And just beyond them: his target. All Might stands with a hand outstretched to the car door. Clearly moments away from getting in and quickly becoming far beyond Izuku’s reach. He has just a matter of seconds. This calls for drastic action.
“All Might!”
He feels a little bad at how violently All Might startles, spinning around with wide eyes. But it works. All Might remains in place as he skids to a stop on the footpath, pausing to catch his breath.
“Young Midoriya!” All Might’s voice is steeped with concern. “What’s going on?”
Izuku waves a reassuring hand, too breathless to speak quite yet. All Might reaches out, his hand hovering uncertainly in the empty space between them. “Kid, is everything alright?”
“Everything’s fine,” Izuku blurts as soon as he has enough air in his lungs. He straightens up, unable to tame the excitement that takes the form of a wide smile. “I’m so glad I caught you before you left. I was afraid I’d miss you! I got caught up talking with Shouto, and when I saw the time I thought I’d missed you-”
“My boy.” With a chuckle, All Might’s hand settles on his shoulder. Izuku falls silent. “Slow down. You don’t have to explain yourself. Now, what’s brought you here in such a hurry? Is there a problem at the dorms?”
“Oh, no.” Izuku bounces on his feet, barely able to contain his energy. “I just wanted to wish you luck!”
All Might blinks, looking perplexed. “... Luck?”
“Yeah!” He clasps his hands into trembling fists. Bouncing in place isn’t enough to suppress the excited energy. “With filing the paperwork and all. Or- maybe not luck, I suppose it should all be pretty simple. What do you say? Congratulations? But that would make more sense to say after you guys are officially-”
“Kid.” All Might’s voice is wearily fond. “Take a breath.”
Izuku pauses his rambling to follow his instructions. “Sorry.”
“There’s nothing to apologise for.” When Izuku looks up, All Might is smiling. “Thank you, my boy. Although you didn’t have to run here. We would have been back before your first class.”
“I know,” Izuku admits with a sigh. “I’m just... really happy for you. Both of you.” There’s so much more he wants to say. How amazing it was to see the change in All Might over the past years. To see his smile return with the sincerity it lacked for so long.
He settles on: “I’m glad you found each other.”
All Might’s smile is small and private. Izuku’s chest lights up: All Might’s fearless grin was always a beacon of inspiration. This one feels warmer in a way Izuku can’t quite describe.
“Yeah,” All Might says, soft and fond. “Me too.”
Naomasa hides an amused smile as Toshinori fidgets in the passenger seat. At this rate, the painstaking effort he's put into fixing his tie will be undone in a matter of seconds.
The fourth time Toshinori winds it around his palm, he speaks up. "You seem nervous."
"Is it that obvious?" Toshinori responds in a strangled voice, and Naomasa holds back a laugh.
"Pretty obvious."
Toshinori groans as he buries his face in his hands. "Maybe we should turn around." Naomasa can’t tell if he’s serious or not.
"Are you really that worried? You’ve faced scarier opponents. Eraser’s not that intimidating, is he?"
"It's not that." Toshinori hesitates. "What if he realises this isn't worth it? That he deserves better?” And then, slightly more panicked: “What if he doesn’t? What if I'm just going to ruin-"
"Relax," Naomasa says, adopting a soothing tone. “You’re catastrophizing. Tell me, as long as you’ve known him-” He spares a glance at Toshinori, watching him with anxious eyes - “has Eraser ever let himself be dragged into something he didn’t want to do without putting up a fight?”
A beat.
“No,” Toshinori says, quiet and conceding. “I suppose… I just never thought I’d be in this position at all. That I'd ever be able to have something like this with someone I care for."
Naomasa waits for him to say more as he stares at his hands.
Eventually, he does; painfully small. “I don’t want to mess it up. Not this. Not him.”
Naomosa cuts his engine as he pulls into an empty parking spot. The civil office looms before them. Somehow, Toshinori has become even more tense.
He sighs, amused. He should have known it would be impossible for Toshinori to approach even this without his characteristic overthinking.
"Hey," he says, prompting Toshinori to turn to him with wide eyes. "Don’t forget you’re doing this together. You both put in the work to get here. It’s not going to be that easy to throw it all away.”
Toshinori is silent, wringing his hands. “I just... don’t want to disappoint him. I want to be what he deserves.”
There’s a note of yearning in his voice that leaves an old, familiar ache in Naomasa’s throat.
"You trust him, right?"
"More than anyone." This time Toshinori’s voice is absent of doubt.
Naomasa smiles, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Then trust he knows what he's doing."
An uncharacteristic nervousness flutters in Shouta’s stomach as he watches the car come to a stop. There’s only one person capable of making him feel this way, and here Shouta is about to dedicate the rest of his life to him. How illogical.
His heart pounds with anticipation.
Hizashi follows his gaze, watching as the two figures emerge from the car. His voice is incredulous. “Is that Yagi?”
Shouta grunts an affirmation. He feels Hizashi’s eyes fix on him in an instant, narrowed in confusion. “... That was suspiciously indifferent.” A moment as he processes. “You were expecting him to be here, weren’t you?”
Shouta nods, quick and simple. Minimal effort, as such a question deserves.
Hizashi’s eyes widen. Indignance coats his next words. “Then why the heck did you drag me down here at the ass crack of dawn? If you knew Yagi was gonna be here, why not ask him? You already live together, after all.”
Shouta bites back on an irritated sigh. Hizashi’s right about one thing: it is too early for this. Maybe he should’ve bit the bullet and taken the day off. If he had, he could still be sleeping right now. “Because he needs his own witness. We can’t be each other’s.”
He can feel the wheels turning in Hizashi’s head. He’s practically humming with electricity as he races through all the possibilities those words imply.
Meanwhile, the others have reached them. Tsukauchi smiles politely, but Shouta only has eyes for Toshinori. He’s dressed in a smart dark blue suit, the colour he usually opts for. He looks the same as he does any other day, more or less. Tired and composed and bright in his own unique, pleasant way. Shouta recognises that familiar crease of anxiety above his eyes. A part of him aches to brush it away.
He turns to face him. “You’re ready?”
Toshinori’s lips quirk up. “If you are.”
Shouta huffs a sigh, more for effect than out of any real irritation. “No. You’re ready?”
Toshinori blinks, surprise flitting across his face. And then he smiles, soft and warm and real. “As I’ll ever be.”
Shouta’s heart skips a beat. It’s disgustingly romantic.
Hizashi’s eyes flit between the two of them with alarming speed. Shouta sees the moment it all clicks into place; the moment Hizashi realises exactly why they’re all here. He activates Erasure just in time to eliminate the property damage that would have been otherwise caused by Hizashi's shriek.
Most things in Toshinori's life have been done with unnecessary fanfare. His debut as a hero. Every media appearance to date. Retirement.
(That last one still stings a bit.)
When he marries Aizawa Shouta, it's beautifully ordinary. Quiet and intimate and simple in a way that makes his chest ache. He hadn’t known how much he’d wanted that until it was within his reach.
The process is simple. They gather in a small, impersonal office accompanied by an official. Toshinori signs his name, as neat as he can manage given his shaking hands, in the space next to Shouta’s. Shouta slides the registration papers across the table. The man in charge of it all takes them, giving the pages a cursory once over.
Toshinori’s felt anxiety before. Never like this: like a hurricane confined within his ribcage, desperate to break free.
Shouta’s hand brushes his, lacing their outer fingers together with a gentleness Toshinori hadn’t realised could exist. A beam of sunlight, tantalisingly warm, washes over him and the pounding within abates.
Cool eyes lock onto them over the paper. “Looks like everything’s in order. You’re good to go.”
And that’s that.
Yamada begins blasting Shouta with questions the moment they’re outside. “Are you going to explain why you didn’t think it was relevant to mention you were getting married?!”
“You were going to find out regardless,” Shouta says, like it’s only common sense. “Does it make a difference when?”
Hizashi stares at him in disbelief. Then, expecting commiseration, he turns to Naomasa. “Do you hear this? Unbelievable. Did Yagi tell you what you were getting yourself into? I bet he did. It’s the kind of thing you would tell your best friend, after all...”
Toshinori takes a step closer to Shouta, lowering his voice to a murmur as Yamada continues his rant. “He sounds pretty betrayed.”
“He’ll get over it.” The subtle curve to Shouta’s lips betrays the fondness in the words. “He’s only upset because he missed out on pestering me until now. Once he’s got Nemuri in on the news, they’ll be relentless. I’ll never know peace again.”
Toshinori chuckles. “You make it sound like torture.”
“Might as well be. Nemuri’s been waiting for this day for years.”
Toshinori turns to look at the man beside him - his husband. A thrill of exhilaration sparks in his chest. For the first time, the gravity of it all truly sinks in. Shouta is his husband. By some twist of fate, they’ve managed to claw their way to this moment. Despite all the odds, Shouta has stayed resolutely at his side, even when it would have been easier for him to leave. Toshinori still can't fathom what makes him worthy of it. Why Shouta sees something in him worth caring for.
But Naomasa is right. They're in this together. Shouta is here because he wants to be. And Toshinori trusts him.
(More than anyone.)
Shouta wears a subtle smile as he watches his best friend trade animated words with Naomasa. The softness to his features, so familiar to Toshinori now, fills his chest with a delightful warmth. He’s foregone his scarf for their early morning endeavour, albeit still dressed in his trusty jumpsuit in accordance with his later class. There’s the added bonus of his hair being tied back into the standard updo he wears on formal occasions, which leaves his face clearly visible.
Toshinori’s heart swells with affection as he drinks in every wonderful detail. The moments Shouta’s true emotions shine through are the ones he treasures most. Beneath the stoic mask is a man he’s unbelievably privileged to know as deeply as he does, and Toshinori adores him.
Shouta turns to him. His eyes narrow with good-natured suspicion as he takes in Toshinori’s wistful expression. “What’s with that look?”
By now, the warmth in Toshinori’s chest encompasses his entire body. The smile he wears now feels much more pleasant than any he’d worn as All Might. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, quiet and intimate as the moment they shared only minutes ago.
Shouta ducks his head and laughs, the way he always does. There’s no scarf to hide his flustered expression behind this time. Toshinori relishes it.
“Shut up,” he mutters with an exasperated grin. “I look the same as always, you charmer.”
Toshinori hums, acquiescing. “I know. You always look beautiful.”
The answer has the desired effect. Shouta turns and, rather unceremoniously, tugs him down by his tie.
“We’re already married,” he says with a sly curve to his lips. “What else are you hoping for with senseless flattery?”
“I’d settle for a kiss from my husband,” Toshinori says, mirroring his teasing smile.
Shouta rolls his eyes, exasperation crystal clear on his face. But when Toshinori leans in, he meets him with the same earnest tenderness. Not even Yamada’s scandalised screech of “PDA!” moments later can dampen his joy.
(It happens like this:
"Do you want to get married?" Shouta asks; like he's asking Toshinori what they should have for dinner. He doesn’t even flinch when Toshinori doubles over into a coughing fit, the familiar taste of blood coating his tongue.
"Do I- What?" he sputters when he's able. He can't have heard that right. It's unthinkable.
“Do you want to get married?” Shouta repeats.
Toshinori rubs at his eyes, then glances at him for any sign of disorientation. Shouta continues gazing at the paper he’s currently grading, apathetic as ever. From where he sits on the floor, leaning against the couch with his legs comfortably crossed, the light on the wall behind them only illuminates the papers in his hands. His face is too shadowed for Toshinori to read; even with their close proximity.
Toshinori’s heart beats faster than it has in a long time. He swallows, placing the book he’d been perusing aside on the coffee table, before sinking back into the couch. He’s stalling; a cowardly move from the former Number One Hero.
“That’s... very sudden of you.”
“Asking, yes.” Shouta’s voice is flat. “But you know I wouldn’t ask if I hadn’t already thought about it. In any case, you don’t have to answer now. The question’s on the table.”
A familiar anxiety bubbles in Toshinori’s chest, quickly gaining in strength. He’s felt this before: when Shouta confessed his feelings; when their tentative, covert relationship became public property; when Shouta asked him to stay and meant it in so many more ways than just for the night.
He manages a tentative response. “You’ve... thought about it?”
“Yes.”
“And... what conclusion did you come to?”
Shouta levels him with an unimpressed look. “Take a guess.”
“No, I mean-” Toshinori struggles for words - “why?”
A soft breath of realisation escapes Shouta. He places his work down and turns to face Toshinori properly, resting an arm on the couch next to Toshinori’s hip. This time his expression is creased into something achingly gentle as he looks up to meet his eyes. Toshinori fights the urge to look away. Sometimes it kills him - to see Shouta look at him like that. With so much care. Toshinori’s not sure he’ll ever truly be used to it.
(It's never stopped Shouta.)
“For one,” Shouta says softly, “we’ve been together for years. It’s safe to say neither of us are going anywhere. It only makes sense to confirm it legally.” His eyes darken with something pained. “I’d rather not have a repeat of Kamino.”
Toshinori winces. That day had been difficult for both of them. Shouta had been at the hospital within an hour of Toshinori being admitted, only to be turned away. In the chaotic aftermath of all that had happened, it had been hours before the situation was resolved. Hours in which Shouta was left pacing holes in the waiting room, while Toshinori came down from the concoction of painkillers for his litany of injuries.
Toshinori hadn’t even known of his presence in the building until he was finally at his side, a pillar of strength in his own right despite his clear worry. They both had Naomasa to thank for that. He’d launched a barrage of questions at the front desk as to why Toshinori had never even been informed that someone was asking for him. It was his efforts that got Shouta past in the first place.
“You’re right about that,” Toshinori mutters, shaking his head to dismiss the unwanted memories.
“So we’re in agreement.”
Shouta’s eyes drift down to his hands, fidgeting subtly with the sleeve of his sweater. He's nervous, Toshinori realises with a start. So far Shouta’s approached this with his usual cold logic. What’s next will be different; more vulnerable.
“I’ll be honest with you. I’ve never been interested in marriage. At most, I thought I’d marry Hizashi for the tax benefits and then we’d go on like we always have, considering he’s the only person I could stand. I never imagined caring for someone enough to consider them an option.”
A pause as he works his jaw, fingers twisted into the fabric of his sleeve. “Until you.”
Toshinori is very still. He knows he needs to speak. However, just breathing feels impossible right now. No matter how many times Shouta says things like that, it never stops feeling paralysing. Like some wondrous dream he’ll jolt awake from at any moment. If he reaches out he risks breaking the surface - the serenity so wondrous it could only be an illusion.
The silence hangs between them.
When Shouta speaks again, he doesn’t sound angry - despite Toshinori’s failure to respond. “If it’s not something you want, that’s fine. I’m not going to hold it against you. And it won’t change anything. But it’s worth talking about.”
He falls silent. He picks up the papers, returning to his earlier position with his legs crossed. As if he hasn’t, in the space of a few sentences, completely shaken everything Toshinori's held true. As if in the wake of such a loaded question, Toshinori's silence is enough.
He focuses on breathing. Low and steady until the erratic pounding of his heart is down to a manageable level. Shouta is silent all the while. At one point, when Toshinori's breathing picks up a little too noticeably, he leans his head back to rest against his thigh. The lightest, most simple of touches. A silent declaration that I am here; just as Toshinori has always tried to be. Shouta's own quiet way of reaching out.
God , Toshinori loves him.
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he begins, tracing nervous circles on his palm. “That was… never something I could want. Even this, now... I never thought I'd actually be able to. There was always too much risk. I tried with you because I thought All For One was dead and gone, and by the time I found out otherwise we were both in over our heads. Even then I wanted to call it off, but you…"
"I wouldn't put up with your self-sacrificing bullshit," Shouta finishes for him, quite succinctly.
"You wanted to stay," Toshinori agrees softly. God knows why. A man driven by sense and logic, and he looks at Toshinori like he can be saved. Like he's worth wanting. "I didn't understand why. I'm still not sure I do. But I trust you."
Shouta taps his pen against the page. "Let's get something straight. I want to stay because I care about you. No matter how frustrating, illogical or downright exhausting you are. It was the same back then." His jaw tenses. "I've watched enough people I care about throw their lives away. I wasn't going to let you be one of them."
Affection, achingly blissful, floods Toshinori's chest. He reaches - trembling and weak but resolute nonetheless. His hand strikes true, landing on Shouta’s shoulder. Shouta turns and waits; comfortably silent.
Emotion wells in his throat, strong enough to render him speechless. “Shouta,” he manages finally. “This, you... It’s all... still so much .” The words catch on his tongue. He lowers his gaze, wishing for clarity. There’s so much he wants to say, and none of it feels within his reach.
Shouta shuffles closer. His hand moves to rest atop Toshinori’s, rough and gentle. It’s a better tether to the world than any other.
The trepidation eases. Toshinori takes a deep, trembling breath.
“I’m not supposed to be afraid,” he says. That familiar crease settles between Shouta’s eyebrows. Toshinori surges forward, desperate to say it all the right way. Shouta’s disappointment has always been impossible to bear. “But I am. I always have been. Back then, it was easier. I just had to smile and act like I never once felt the fear. Not for a moment. It was false - you know that - but it was simple. I was used to it.”
He swallows. Shouta’s thumb brushes gently over his wrist.
“I’m not used to this,” he admits softly. “To being... a person rather than a Symbol. And everything that comes with it. I think you know that, too.”
He breathes in. Shouta is silent; calm and patient as ever. “And that’s why I’m so afraid. Being the Symbol of Peace was easy. Being what you deserve - that’s harder.”
He takes Shouta’s hand in his own, squeezing gently.
“You’re incredible, Shouta. Like no one I’ve ever known. You’re sharp and genuine and the bravest person I know. You deserve everything the world has to offer. I want to be what you deserve. So much it hurts. And I’m so afraid that I’ll mess it up. More afraid than I ever was as All Might.”
“But you’re admitting it,” Shouta says softly. “That you’re afraid. There was a time you wouldn’t. Not to anyone. Not to me.”
“No,” Toshinori says; as much an admission as those before it. "Not even to myself. But the truth is... I never stopped being afraid. For the world, for the future, for all the people that matter to me. That fear never goes away.” He pulls Shouta’s hand the slightest bit closer. “It never goes away… except when you are here.”
The familiar intonation has the desired effect. Shouta’s lips curl into an exasperated smile. "God, you're saccharine," he mutters with a huff of amusement. He rests his head against Toshinori's hip. "You're lucky I love you, or I'd smother you for pulling out that line."
Toshinori laughs with him; breaking the heavy tension hovering over them. He squeezes Shouta’s hand. “So… I suppose what I’m trying to say is that… the thing I fear most is losing this. Losing you. The best thing to happen to me in a long time. You quiet the noise in my mind.”
He closes his eyes, breathing a sigh. This is the crux of it all. Time to make it count. “I don’t understand why you think I’m worthy of all this. But I’m trying to. I know you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t believe it. And, as long as that’s what you want… It's what I want. To be by your side, for as long as you’ll have me.”
The words hang between them as Shouta rises. Very gently, he situates himself on the edge of the couch. Toshinori shuffles aside to make room. Shouta’s hand drifts to cup his cheek.
“You know,” he murmurs. “You only needed to say yes or no. I’m still waiting for that - as long as you need." He leans down, pressing his lips to Toshinori’s in a chaste kiss. "Thank you for telling me.”
Toshinori’s heart soars. "The answer is yes,” he whispers, the words surging with emotion. “The answer will always be yes. As long as you're sure. As long as it's you."
Shouta smiles, bemused. "Never one to get straight to the point, were you?" he says with a huff of laughter. “Good. Glad we’re on the same page.”
He elbows Toshinori’s shoulder, gentle but insistent. “Make room.”
Toshinori complies, sitting up and shuffling over as Shouta retrieves his papers. He sinks into Toshinori’s side, making himself comfortable. “Look over Midoriya’s essay with me. He’s gone over the word count again .”
“How many pages this time?” Toshinori asks with a considerate hum.
“Only two. Better than the last paper I assigned. He was six pages over then. He stayed back after class just to apologise for it. Reminds me of someone else I know.”
Toshinori’s lips quirk upward. “Harsh.” Shouta nudges him again, the tip of his pen drifting over the eager scrawl of Midoriya’s writing. Toshinori tries to follow, but his mind remains elsewhere.
Thankfully, Shouta seems to know. “How about Thursday morning?”
“Hm?”
“To stop by the civil office. That’s enough time to get everything together.” He taps his pen on the page, contemplative. “Should be quiet, too. You still have that morning free, don’t you?”
“I’ll make sure it stays that way,” Toshinori promises.
Shouta snorts. “No need to swear an oath.” He nestles his head comfortably underneath Toshinori’s chin. “Then it’s settled.”
Toshinori slips an arm around his shoulders. “Right,” he murmurs. “It’s settled.”
And that’s that.)
The problem children are gathered together, lying in wait by the time they return to the dorms. Twenty pairs of eyes lock onto the front door from numerous places of the common area before quickly attempting to look disinterested, with varying degrees of success.
Shouta eyes them with suspicion. “What did you break?”
An assortment of protests arise from the gathered students. Kaminari's voice rises above the rest. "Why would you think we broke something? Can't we just be happy to see our favourite homeroom teacher?"
If the kids are happy to see him walk in, Shouta has undoubtedly failed as a teacher. "No. Out with it."
Silence. Shouta stares, unflinching. One of them will break soon enough.
Toshinori steps up beside him. “Go easy on them, Aizawa,” he says, voice tinged with good humour. “You’ll have plenty of time to terrorise them when class starts.”
Subtly, his hand rests on Shouta’s lower back. Shouta relaxes. Momentarily, he considers showing mercy. The less time he spends worrying about the brats and their strange behaviour, the more time he can spend squeezing in a nap before he has to start preparing for today’s class. Preferably with his husband serving as a makeshift pillow.
Whatever enjoyment he gets from that thought is shattered in an instant by Ashido’s enthusiastic question. “Are you two really married now?”
Shouta stiffens. Toshinori chokes, turning away as he succumbs to a coughing fit. Serves him right. So much for going easy on them.
Shouta turns his attention to the students. “Are we what .”
It’s not a question. It’s a warning. A warning that goes unheeded.
Todoroki picks up where Ashido fails to, blithely unaware of the precarious position he’s in. “She asked if you’ve gotten married yet.”
“I heard.” Shouta prays for salvation. It will not come. This he knows well. “What I want to know is what on earth prompted her to ask such a ridiculous question.”
“It’s where you both disappeared to so early in the morning, isn’t it?” Ashido says it more like an accusation than the supposition it is. “I heard it from a very reliable source.”
Shouta narrows his eyes. “And that source is?”
Ashido lifts her chin, looking defiant. “A good investigator never reveals her secrets.”
“But a nosy student who doesn’t want detention for the rest of her school life does.”
“Aizawa.” Toshinori sounds strained. He places a placating hand on Shouta’s shoulder. “Don’t be too hard on them.”
Shouta almost shrugs him off out of habit; the ingrained awareness that comes with being attached to Toshinori in any proximity. The media had exploded with speculation on their relationship over something as mundane as grading over coffee, after all.
As quickly as the thought crosses his mind, it vanishes. What’s the point in denying it? The students already plague him with questions about the latest media speculations as it is. And Shouta did marry the man, after all. They’re going to figure it out eventually, menaces that they are. Shouta would be proud if their determination didn’t involve his personal life.
He locks eyes with Toshinori. A silent question. Toshinori’s eyes widen with surprise - and then soften as he smiles. As good as a spoken yes. Shouta sighs.
“If you must know,” he drones with as much disdain as he can muster. “We are. Now-”
He should have foreseen the cacophony of voices. Some are vindicated; others are loud and questioning. Shouta hates all of them equally.
He activates Erasure, letting the change in his appearance draw the group’s attention.
"Quiet." The stern command silences the room in an instant. Shouta rubs his temples. He could really use a nap. The chance he’ll get one slips away more and more with every moment. He sighs, long-suffering. "How did you kids know about this in the first place?"
Twenty pairs of eyes avert themselves. One of them belongs to Midoriya, already looking wracked with guilt.
"Ah - it's my fault, Mr. Aizawa."
"How's that?"
Midoriya shrinks at his dry tone. “Well... I wanted to wish All Might luck before he left this morning.” Shouta wonders if he should be offended by that. “I stopped to talk to Todoroki on the way out and I lost track of time. When I realised, I must’ve said more than I meant to about why I was leaving so quickly.” He runs a hand over his forehead, smiling nervously. “So it’s all my fault, really. I’m really sorry, Mr. Aizawa.”
Shouta has an educated guess as to where Midoriya found out. He turns to his husband and glares. Toshinori avoids his eyes, looking just as guilty as his pseudo-son. Already feeling exhausted, Shouta wonders if it's too soon to file for a divorce.
“If that’s all,” he begins, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I’d advise you all to get some studying in before class. You’ll be taking an impromptu pop quiz to make up for this.”
There are a few groans, but no direct protests. They seem to know their fate could have been much worse.
The matter dealt with, Shouta continues on his way to the staff room. Toshinori trails behind him, conspicuously silent. Shouta makes no effort to initiate conversation. Let him stew in the guilt for a few minutes.
Toshinori hovers as Shouta sets about making a cup of coffee. He's fiddling with the coffee machine when Toshinori finally speaks up.
"I can't help but feel that was mostly my fault," he says, which is the understatement of the century. "I'm the one who told Young Midoriya."
Shouta sighs, fonder than he wants it to be. "I know," he says as he reaches for the now-boiled kettle, pouring it into Toshinori's usual mug. "I should've guessed you would. You're too much of a sap not to."
He can hear the anxiety in Toshinori's voice. "I didn't think he would tell anyone. And it sounds like it was more of an accident than anything."
Shouta stirs the tea, waiting for him to continue. He will; he's too nervous not to. He shouldn't be. But that's who Toshinori is.
"I suppose… I was overexcited. We met for our weekly lunch and I started talking without realising how much I was saying. I should’ve been more responsible.”
Shouta smiles, hidden from view. Even now Toshinori still overthinks things in that grand, illogical way of his. He and Midoriya are two sides of the same coin. It’s no wonder they got along so well, even before Shouta knew the secret of One For All.
Toshinori straightens up as he turns to face him, looking pensive. “Shouta, I’m sor-”
Shouta cuts him off with a firm kiss, lingering as he places the mug of tea on the table. “Stop that. I married you, didn’t I? I’m more than prepared to face the consequences.”
He lounges into the nearest chair, donning a lazy grin. “Even nosy teenagers.”
Toshinori’s returned smile is one of relief. “Nothing worse, huh?”
“Absolutely not,” Shouta says. It’s a brazen lie. Those kids cause him nothing but headaches. But they’re his kids - devious as they are brave - and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
The rest of the day is normal; almost painfully so.
Shouta teaches his usual class. Aside from a few probing questions that he tactfully ignores, it’s routine.
He has lunch with Hizashi; the way he does every day. Hizashi makes a show of lamenting the cruelty of the betrayal he faced at the hands of his dearest friend. And then he pulls Shouta into a crushing hug, muttering, “I love you, bro. I’m glad you two figured it out.”
Shouta lets himself be swept into it with minimal protest. He presses his face into the shoulder of Hizashi’s impractical leather jacket and doesn’t speak the answer: So am I.
As he heads back to the staff room at the end of the day, he passes Toshinori; on his way to his usual weekly checkup. Shouta slows, for no other purpose than to brush his hand against Toshinori’s.
“See you tonight. Be safe.” A request more loaded than most. Toshinori has always been good at keeping others safe. Himself - not so much. Shouta likes to remind him.
Toshinori chuckles, soft and appreciative. "I'll only be gone a few hours." He pauses to press a quick kiss to Shouta's temple. "I'll tell you how it goes," he promises, and then he's off. Shouta continues on his way, heart a little lighter.
It's dark when Toshinori returns to their dorm. Shouta's cross-checking his progress notes when he hears the rattle of keys, and then the familiar creak of the door sliding open.
He abandons the slew of papers, making a beeline for the hall where Toshinori is hanging his coat. Shouta slips his arms around his waist, burying his face into Toshinori's back. "Hi."
He can hear the smile in Toshinori's answer. "Hi."
"How'd it go?"
Toshinori turns. Shouta steps back, looking up to face him properly as he rests his hands gently on his hips.
"Not too bad," Toshinori says with a lop-sided smile. It's a glowing prognosis, as his health check-ups go.
Even so, Shouta can see the signs of the toll the day's taken on him. He's favouring his left side. He always does after a check-up. Whatever the news, the fact remains that the memories brought up are always more painful. He's standing too purposefully, as well. Doing what he did as All Might - emulating a pillar of strength, no matter his true feelings.
At least his smile is real. Shouta prefers it much more that way.
He traces patterns up Toshinori’s back with delicate fingers. “Lie down with me?”
Toshinori’s eyes flicker to the table, still strewn with paperwork. “You’re busy.”
“It can wait.”
Toshinori closes his eyes, apparently too tired to protest any further. “As you wish.” The words are tinged with fond humour.
Shouta rolls his eyes good-naturedly, tugging his husband after him.
Neither of them sleep. Shouta doesn’t sleep unless he wants to - and at the moment he’s more interested in savouring Toshinori’s presence. Toshinori, on the other hand, is clearly still affected by that unceasing current of energy that burns within him at any given moment. His thumb traces eager patterns over where his hand rests against Shouta's waist. Despite his clear exhaustion, he hasn't paused for a moment.
Shouta opens his eyes. Toshinori gazes back at him, expression creased into warm affection. Fondness bursts within Shouta’s chest.
“What’s on your mind?”
As if he’s been waiting for permission, Toshinori reaches up. He presses a kiss to Shouta's lips, soft and giddy, as he runs a hand through his hair.
"You're my husband," he whispers, as if such a fact is deserving of the awe his words are imbued with.
Despite himself, one corner of Shouta's mouth curves into a smile. "That’s generally a consequence of marriage, yes."
His dry response does nothing to dampen Toshinori's joy. He presses another kiss to Shouta’s lips, and then to his forehead. Shouta laughs; freer than he’s ever felt.
Toshinori draws back. His hand returns to its place on Shouta’s waist. Shifting to lie more comfortably, Shouta gazes up at him. Toshinori’s smile is warm; a joy contained within that fills Shouta’s heart with a thrill of its own. Even in the low light, Toshinori seems to shine with the same stubborn glow that’s always clung to him.
Of all the paths for Shouta’s life to go down, this might be the most unexpected. He finds himself glad for it.
He breathes a contented sigh. “I love you.” The simplest of truths. All that matters to Shouta in this quiet moment.
“I love you too.” Toshinori’s voice is soft. “You know, even though I spent most of my career being known as the Symbol of Peace… I never figured out what it was supposed to feel like for myself.”
Shouta hums gently, encouraging him to continue.
“Ironic, right?” This time Toshinori’s voice is tinged with the faintest hit of causticity. It fades with his next words. “For all I wanted to bring peace to the world, I didn’t know how to find my own. Never even tried. I wondered, sometimes, what it might look like. I never found an answer.”
“Figures,” Shouta mutters, aching fondness slipping into his voice. “You’d give everything you had for the world, but you’ve never been good at thinking about yourself.”
Unbidden, his fingers twitch with the ingrained memory of that awful scar at his side.
“No,” Toshinori agrees softly. “I suppose, in a way, I wanted that to be the answer. For bringing peace to others to be the way I found some of my own.”
Through the darkness, Shouta sees his lips curl into some weathered approximation of a smile. “You can see how that worked out. But I don’t regret it.”
Shouta sighs, quiet and yielding. “Of course not. You wouldn’t be you if you did.”
Sometimes, Shouta wishes he would regret it. Wouldn’t feel the pull of whatever force it is that drives him to tear himself apart for the future he envisions, day after day. But if that were the case, he wouldn’t be the man Shouta loves.
Shouta finds his hand beneath the covers, squeezing tight. “If you could regret it, you never would have accomplished all that you did. You wouldn’t have inspired people the way you did. Even if you couldn’t find peace for yourself, you helped thousands of others find it.”
You helped me find it, he leaves unsaid. (Nonetheless, he hopes Toshinori hears it.)
“I know you, Toshi. You’re more sentiment than you are sense. You wouldn’t regret a moment as long as the world kept getting brighter. No matter how much you sacrificed.”
Toshinori hums an acknowledgement, contemplative. “But that’s not the only reason. The path I walked wasn’t an easy one. At times it was all I could do just to keep following it.”
Shouta’s so engrossed by his every reticent word that Toshinori’s hand against his cheek, painfully tender, comes as a surprise. Toshinori gazes at him, eyes smouldering with an unbearable affection. Shouta waits with bated breath. He doesn’t have to wait for long.
Toshinori’s voice is achingly quiet - but no less enthralling. “But I’m glad I did. Because it brought me here. To you.” He smiles. Even in the dark, Shouta can see the shine to his eyes that denotes tears. “I never did find peace of my own volition. But I found you.”
Shouta’s breath catches in his throat. Toshinori leaves him no time to recover.
“I accepted a long time ago that peace was a luxury I’d never attain. I see things differently now. Because this…” He presses their foreheads together, releasing a long, purposeful breath. “This is peace. Everything I could have hoped for… I’ve found it by your side.” His voice trembles with emotion. “Thank you for showing it to me.”
Shouta reaches out. His hands find Toshinori’s face; pulling him impossibly closer. "You sentimental fool," he says through choked laughter. He presses a kiss to Toshinori's lips, soft and desperate. "If I'd known marrying you was all it took to bring you peace, I would’ve done it months ago."
Toshinori laughs, breath warm against Shouta's skin. "You know that's not what I meant. You don't have to be my husband to bring me peace."
Shouta meets him in another kiss, unbearably sweet.
"Though I'll admit it's a welcome addition."
Shouta pauses in his affections to allow him to speak. Toshinori's eyes drift lazily open. He looks at Shouta like he's some ethereal being that demands his reverence. It doesn’t feel as daunting to Shouta now as it did at the beginning. Toshinori has always cared so deeply; felt everything with a strength his body could never hope to contain. How he loves is no different. This is a truth Shouta holds dear.
Toshinori brushes hair from his face, eyes soft. “You bring me peace,” he murmurs, “just by being as you are. No matter what lies ahead, as long as you're here… I don't feel afraid to face it." He cups Shouta's cheek again, leaning in as if he's willing their bodies to meld together. "You're the most extraordinary person I've ever known, Shouta. I'm honoured to call you my husband. I'll do all I can to be worthy of it."
Shouta laughs, choked by tears and an affection he never knew could feel so sweet. "I should've known just signing the papers could never be enough for your whimsical heart. Vows are usually reserved for the ceremony. If I needed you to recite your devotion, I would’ve done it that way."
He kisses Toshinori once more; ardent and firm. "You're already worthy of it. I chose you, Toshinori. Remember that."
Toshinori’s fingers tangle gently in his hair. “I’ll do my best.”
“Good.” Shouta presses closer, feeling the sharp edges of Toshinori’s chin against the top of his head as he nestles comfortably against his neck. Thin arms wrap around him, enveloping him in a wondrous serenity. "And Toshi?"
"Hm?"
"You bring me peace, too."
He feels more than hears the sharp intake of breath. He's never been good with poetic words the way Toshinori is. They both know that. Shouta's skill with words has always lied in brevity. In the simplest of terms; in meaning that speaks for itself.
A trembling sigh escapes Toshinori's lips. Shouta feels that, too. The ripple of solace that flows through his body. His next words only magnify it. "I’m glad.”
He buries his face into Shouta’s hair. Shouta presses a kiss to his collarbone, gentle and soothing. Toshinori’s arms tighten around him - and Shouta lets his mind drift. His chest swells as he breathes in Toshinori’s familiar scent, comforting and sweet. Illogical as it is - if this moment could go on forever, Shouta would let it.
Toshinori was right - this is peace.