Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The rain poured from overhead, drenching Hitoshi and freezing him to the bone. The Mori's had told him to pack his stuff after finding his binder in his laundry basket.

Hitoshi did his own laundry, but the Mori’s liked to poke around his things as most fosters did. He tried coming up with some lame excuse but they already knew what it was.

“The Tanaka’s daughter had one of these, claiming she wanted to be a boy. Do you want to be a boy Hana?" Mr. Mori had said angrily.

He tried to deny it. Tried to say it was a part of a theater costume. Hitoshi wasn't even in theatre, what a lame excuse.

Hitoshi tried to plead with them, but they weren't listening. They never listened. Mrs. Mori was already on the phone with the caseworker before he was excused to go pack his bags.

He wanted to fight, to scream, to beg but he trudged to his room. This was the first home in years to not hit him. They mainly screamed, muzzled him, or restricted food. He could deal with these things, Hell, he deserved them. Punishments were important, that had been drilled into his head since a young age.

Now he was being shipped to Kami knows where. Hitoshi’s social worker had mentioned she was running out of options for him, so he wouldn't be surprised if he was on his way to a group home. Maybe he could slip under the radar there. He was quiet and did as he told, he’d be okay.

Yano Yuko was a perpetually tired-looking, middle-aged woman. Hitoshi supposed he would also be constantly tired if he was tasked to work with "problem” children, ignoring the fact that he already is constantly tired.

"Hana, what happened this time" Yano asked as he climbed into the car.

Hitoshi simply shrugged and stared out the window

He actually liked his case worker, but considering what just happened, he wasn't too eager to come out again. She was friendly for the most part, and really thought she could find him a good home. Her enthusiasm was why he never admitted to the extent of the abuse he’s been through. He just had to be good and he would stop disappointing her.

"I found another family. Two pro-heroes, no other kids. They seem like really great people and they may be your last chance," Yano said, softly glancing at him through the rearview mirror. Hitoshi gave no response, "Just promise to try this time please.”

‘I am trying,’ he wanted to shout, but Instead, he continued to give no response. He watched trees and buildings pass in silence. Hitoshi tried so hard to be good, but it was never good enough. He’s convinced he’ll never be good enough.

********

Shouta stood back while Hizash flitted around the house. They had just agreed to take in an emergency foster placement, their first one, and Hizashi needed everything to be perfect.

While his husband was checking the spare room for the second time, Shota decided to take a glance at the kid's file

Shinsou Hana, 14, F, Diagnosed With insomnia.

There was also a notes section from previous homes but he decided to disregard it for now. He didn't want to form an opinion until he met the kid in person.

As Shouta was closing the file, the knock finally came.

"'Hizashi, they're here,” Shouta called out before opening the door.

His eyes moved past the woman to the purple-haired kid who looked like they were trying to disappear. They were soaked from the rain which made their hair hang loosely just beyond their shoulders. Shouta moved back so they could come in and observed how badly the kid was shivering.

“Oh my goodness, welcome in!” Hizashi half yelled as he came down the stairs. The lanky man was basically vibrating in excitement. “I’m Yamada Hizashi. This is my husband, Aizawa Shouta.”

“Good evening, I’m Yano. And this is Shinsou Hana,” she stepped aside so Shinsou was fully visible. The kid seemed to curl more in on themselves as all the attention shifted to her.

Hizashi gasped as he finally got a look at Shinsou. “Here, let me show you to your room and bathroom. You need out of those wet clothes ASAP.”

Shouta watched Hizashi herd the kid upstairs before turning back to Yano.

“Is she normally this quiet,” Shouta asked her.

“She seems to be around new people but previous Foster parents have reported her having some temperament and quirk issues. Especially around other kids. So I would just be cautious of that. Um, other than that, shes a smart kid with a bright future as long as we can work through the other stuff,” Yano replied with a fake smile.

Shouta noticed she wasn’t being very specific about anything. Maybe he would read more into her file, but he knew he should take it all with a grain of salt. Hizashi has told him countless stories about his time in foster case.

He bid her farewell as Hizashi descended the stairs once more. He had a frown etched into his usually cheerful face.

“The little listener is doing good, I think. She’s in the shower now. It's just… she seems so jumpy and I think,” Hizashi had to pause to take a steadying breath. “I think I saw scars around her nose.”

Shouta knew what that could mean but he desperately hoped he was wrong.

*********

Late at night. when everyone was asleep, Shouta took his laptop down to the living room. He had to know what the file said so he could know where to start helping the kid.

Name: Shinsou Hana
Age: 14
Gender: Female
Quirk: Brainwash - can control an individual if they give a response

Finally, he got down to where the notes section was.

‘Age 5: Took control over foster sibling when he took away Shinsou’s toy’
‘Age 7: Took control of foster father and refused to let go'
‘Age 10: Dropped expensive china in retaliation
‘Age 12: Talked back and threatened with quirk’
‘Age 14: Expressed interest in Unholy activities’

The last one came from his latest home and was beyond perplexing to Shouta. He couldn’t even comprehend what a child could’ve done that was “Unholy.” He was suddenly glad to not be religious.

Other than that, nothing was specific. They all left Shouta wondering what led up to them or if they were even real events that happened. He just sighed and closed the laptop. That was enough for tonight.

Chapter Text

Hitoshi stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. More specifically his hair. It fell in long purple locks past his shoulders and all he wanted to do was rip it out. Instead, he grabbed a pair of scissors he found in the drawer and snipped a good chunk of it. He watched the clump of hair fall to the floor silently and then looked back towards the mirror.

"No going back now," he mumbled quietly. He breathed deeply before lifting the scissors again. The sun had barely just risen so he figured he had a couple of hours before anyone woke up and saw what he had done.

He wondered how they would react. Some foster homes would've screamed at him, or worse, while others probably wouldn't have noticed. Hitoshi naively decided that they weren't transphobic since they were gay but he wasn't sure where their temperament laid yet. They could easily get angry that Hitoshi changed his appearance without asking. The men had let him settle into his room yesterday, and left him be. He was sure he wouldn't get so lucky today.

He finished cutting and got a good look at himself in the mirror. It was a lot shorter now and seemed to float around a bit. For the first time in his life, Hitoshi was somewhat happy with his appearance. He quickly showered to wash off the hair and went back to his room. He barely slept last night so he decided to try to get a couple of hours. The bed was the softest thing he's ever slept on though so found himself in a fitful sleep.

****

A knock on Hitoshi's door came before he knew it. Glancing at the clock, he realized several hours had passed even though he felt like it had only been a few minutes. He rolled from bed ungracefully as another knock came from the door and trudged over to open it.

"Good morning... little listener," Yamada tripped over his words as he saw Hitoshi's hair. The older man looked shocked for a moment before plastering the same smile on his face. Hitoshi hated that smile. He couldn't tell if it was fake or genuine and it bothered him. "C'mon breakfast is ready."

Hitoshi followed him wordlessly. He was somewhat shocked that they woke him up for breakfast instead of letting him sleep through it. Depending on the foster home, he would've been told to make something for himself or starve.

The smell of coffee hit first. Immediately, Hitoshi's mouth started to water and he silently hoped they would allow him to have some.

The dining room and kitchen was one big spacious room. Dark brown cabinets lined the light blue walls and the 4 person dining area was right across. The dark brown wood floors matched the cabinets well.

Aizawa glanced up as they entered and his eyes widened slightly. They were definitely the kind to notice then.

"Nice haircut, kid. Coffee?" Aizawa asked, simply. Neither of them were mad. That was strange.

Coffee sounded wonderful though.

"Yes, please."

Short yet polite. That's how he was taught to interact with adults.

Yamada directed him to where to find a mug, sugar and creamer. Hitoshi set to making his disgustingly sweet coffee while Yamada sat down at the table.

After making his coffee, Hitoshi shyly inches to the table. There was an empty chair with a plate of pancakes in front of it so he sat there. Hesitantly, he grabbed the bottle of syrup. The table was quiet for a bit, just the clang of silverware on porcelain filled the silence.

“So,” Aizawa broke the silence first, “Is there a reason behind cutting your hair?”

He was talking to Hitoshi. He wasn’t used to adults talking to him. Usually they talked at him, demanded he did something.

“Just wanted a change,” Hitoshi muttered. He didn’t want to risk coming out again, not yet at least.

“Okay, but if there's anything you want to tell us please do. This is a safe place,” Aizawa stared at him for a moment more.

Hitoshi just went back to his food. That one simple sentence made him want to cry. This is a safe place. He wondered what it felt like to be safe. To not constantly be in fight or flight mode. Not that he had much fight left in him.

Something brushed against his leg, bringing him from his thoughts. He glanced under the table and saw the fluffiest, grumpiest cat he’s ever seen.

“Ah, that's Grouch. He likes to beg for food even though he gets plenty of his own,” Yamada says with a chuckle. Hitoshi loves cats but most foster homes never had pets. “There’s 2 other cats running around here somewhere. Tito and Bandit are their names.”

Hitoshi slid to the floor to pet the cat who soaked up the attention. Grouch headbutted his chin making him smile. He liked it here.

“I’m gonna get this cleaned up. Kid, we’ve got a meeting today so you’ll be home alone for a bit. There is a park less than a block away if you’d rather not be cooped up,” Aizawa said as he stood and cracked his back.

“I can help clean up,” it wasn’t a question. It was never a question. The same rule existed everywhere, no questions allowed.

“Don’t worry about it kid. Zashi cleans up as he goes, so I just gotta put the plates and silverware in the dishwasher.”

Hitoshi stayed where he was, continuing to pet Grouch. It was odd to not be expected to do anything. He decided it would be nice to go out to the park and explore the area. So with a silent departure, he went up to his room.

It was just before noon and even with the sun so high, it was still chilly outside so he decided on a dark purple hoodie and dark straight cut jeans that were just a bit too small on him. The Mori’s threw away his binder but he always had ace bandages as backup. He knew he shouldn’t use them but most of his dysphoria came from his chest.

When Hitoshi came back down the living room, the two adults abruptly stopped their whispering conversation. He was used to people whispering about him but he always felt awkward about it.

“Hey kiddo, what's up,” Yamada asked with the same smile as this morning.

“I was gonna head down to the park,” Hitoshi said, fidgeting with his sleeves.

“Okie dokie! Try to be home by 4 at the latest and here’s our number if you need it,” Yamada handed him a piece of paper with two numbers scribbled messily on it.

Hitoshi nodded and headed out the door. The chill in the air made the day even better. They lived in a quiet little neighborhood so he didn’t run into many people the 5 minutes it took him to find the park.

The park was surprisingly empty so Hitoshi took a seat on the swing and rocked himself back and forth. The wind on his face and through his hair as he swung was calming.

“U-um, is this s-seat t-taken,” a timid voice came from beside him. Hitoshi looked over and saw a kid with large green eyes and green hair shuffling his feet nervously.

“Nope, feel free.”

The kid sat on the swing beside him, and for a while neither spoke.

“I’m M-Modoriya I-Izuku, he/him. I’ve never s-seen you around h-here before,” the kid eyed him curiously.

“Just got moved here with new fosters. The names Shinsou…,” Hitoshi paused for a moment. “Hitoshi. He/Him.”

There was no taking it back now. Hitoshi held his breath, waiting for Midoriya’s reaction.

“C-Cool! Do y-you wanna be f-friends? You d-don’t h-have to of c-course, i just th-thought since y-you just m-moved here and a-all-”

“Sounds good to me,” Hitoshi cut off his rambling.

“Cool,” Midoriya said, releasing a sigh of relief.

“Cool,” Hitoshi replied, trying to repress his grin.

Chapter Text

Hitoshi stared at the little slip of paper Midoriya had given him for the hundredth time this week. The other boy's phone number had been scribbled messily on the lined paper. He had told the other boy about his lack of a phone but that didn’t deter him from giving Hitoshi his phone number.

The smile wouldn’t leave his face that day. He had never had a friend before. The Yamazawa’s definitely noticed but they hadn’t said anything. Not that Hitoshi had given them many chances to say much, he had been hiding in his room almost the entire two weeks since he arrived here.

He did notice that on days that both heroes were off duty, such as today, they would laze around and watch movies together. Hitoshi wondered if it would be rude to invite himself to watch a movie or two with them. They seemed genuinely nice and he wanted to give them a chance.

Pulling on an old sweatshirt, Hitoshi quietly crept down the stairs. He stopped midway when he heard the two talking though.

“Oh, yeah, Sho! Didja hear Nemuri’s sibling came out as trans?” Hizashi’s voice rang out through the living room.

“I saw that. I’m glad to see them being open about it,” Aizawa’s gruff voice responded.

Hitoshi’s eyes widened. They were okay with it? Could he really be himself here?

He crept back up the stairs and found the school supplies Yamada recently bought for him. School started back up the following week and he was not looking forward to it. He stared at the paper for a moment, questioning whether or not he truly should do this. Better now than never.

Dear Mr. Aizawa and Mr. Yamada,

It’d be pretty cool if you called me Hitoshi. Alongside he/him.

Thx,
S. Hitoshi

Not his best work but coming out was strange. He wasn’t quite sure how to go about it. Handing it to them seemed way too stressful so he decided to just slip it under their bedroom door.

He slipped back down the stairs where the two other men were focused on a Studio Ghibli movie. Hitoshi sat down in the recliner closest to the stairs and tried to not fidget from anxiety. Instead he put his focus on the tv. He’d never actually seen a Studio Ghibli movie but an old foster sister was obsessed with them and showed him pictures when no one else would listen to her.

He tried his hardest to pay attention but the giant baby and the creepy ghost guy really threw him through a loop. Hitoshi eventually gave up on trying to follow along and let himself nod off.

"-Sou. Shinsou, hun, time to wake up,” Hitoshi blinked awake and saw Yamada standing in front of him. “We ordered some takeout, thought you might be hungry.”

Hitoshi went to stand up but felt a weight on his lap. A short haired, orange cat lay across his lap.

“Tito likes to invite himself to other people’s nap time. No need to move him, we were gonna eat in the living room anyway and he’s not very interested in human food,” Aizawa’s gruff voice came from the couch next to the chair Hitoshi was in.

A plate of soba was handed to him and Hitoshi thanked Yamada. The adults started talking about adult things, something or another about teaching and school. It reminded Hitoshi that he started school in less than a week now. A new school with bullies. Yippee.

“Oh that reminds me! We’re going clothes shopping for you tomorrow, Shinsou. You need your uniforms and it wouldn’t hurt for you to have more everyday clothes,” Yamada said.

Uniform. The word sent a sick feeling all the way through his body. A uniform meant a skirt and a skirt meant being perceived as someone he wasn’t.

He didn’t express that thought though. He just nodded in understanding and said, “Thank you Yamada but I’m fine with the clothes I already have. I don’t need anything except the uniforms.”

“Nonsense! You deserve more than just a few outfits. Besides I’ve noticed your pants are a bit small on you and your shoes are nearly falling apart.”

Hitoshi just nodded in response. You’re not supposed to argue with adults. He just went back to his noodles and tried to not think about how hard it’d be to lug around more clothes to a different home. If they even allowed him to bring them with him.

“I think I’m gonna call it an early night,” Hitoshi said after finishing his soba. The two adults responded with goodnights and he soon found himself staring up at his bedroom ceiling. He had tried offering to clean up but was immediately shut down.

The Yamazawa’s confused him. They never raised their voices or their fists. Never told him to ‘shut up’ if he spoke. They didn’t even make him do chores. And now they were taking him clothes shopping, for clothes he didn't even need. It all puzzled Hitoshi beyond measure. Was there going to be a snapping point? Would it be like this once he got more comfortable.

Yamada helped him without question when it came to any problem and Aizawa answered the one question he’s asked since being there without hesitation.

Hitoshi let himself dig into these thoughts while he fell into a fitful sleep. His rest didn’t last long though.Shortly after 6am, he found that no more sleep would come to him. He eventually gave up and pulled himself out of bed.

He knew he could never pay back the Yamazawa’s for everything they've done thus far but he would at least make them breakfast. He heard, in passing, that Yamada had a soft spot for American breakfast and well… pancakes couldn’t be that hard right? With that thought, he padded softly downstairs. He pulled everything out for pancakes and bacon.

Turns out pancakes were a lot harder to make than he originally thought but he only burnt 2 in the process. The bacon on the other hand seemed a bit too crispy but that was a battle he wasn’t willing to fight.

Grabbing a mug, Hitoshi hummed softly while walking back to the coffee pot.

“Good morning, Hitoshi,” a familiar gruff voice came from behind him.

Not realizing Aizawa had entered the room, Hitoshi startled and dropped the mug. He stared at the broken pieces in front of him for a moment, almost as if he couldn’t believe it.

“Shit, here, step back. I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” Aizawa grabbed his arm gently and led Hitoshi away.

The soft touch brought him back to reality and he immediately started panicking. How could he be so stupid? He had been doing so well. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I can replace it. Please, I’m so sorry,” Hitoshi blabbered out. His breathing was becoming shallow, his heart was racing, and his face was starting to feel numb. He always managed to fuck things up. He wasn’t allowed to have good things. So stupid.

Aizawa lead him to a dining room chair and sat him down. “Kid, I’m not mad. I’m going to clean that up. I need you to take some deep breaths.”
He tried to take deep breaths, he really did. All Hitoshi could manage was short shallow breaths that made his vision blurry. What if that mug was important? What if he fucked up majorly? He wanted to run, to get out of here before they could kick him out themselves.

He vaguely heard Aizawa say something before warm arms enveloped him. He couldn’t remember the last time someone hugged him. He had been really little, he thinks. Hitoshi let himself melt into the hug while still whimpering apologies. He could make this better.

“It's okay Hitoshi. No one’s mad, you’re okay,” Aizawa said calmly.

It took awhile but his breathing eventually evened out and he could talk without hiccuping. “I’m sorry for the mug and I’m sorry for reacting that way. I promise I’m not a cryer usually.”

Aizawa studied him for a moment while Hitoshi found great interest in his hands. “You’re good kid, promise. No one here will ever hurt you for anything. You will always be safe here. Even when you're 30 and having a bad day, you will always have us to come to for anything. I’m promising you that kid.”

All Hitoshi could do was stare at him as he felt the walls he so meticulously built start crumbling. Even when he’s 30… Could that really mean he was here to stay? He really, really hoped so.

“Thank you,” Hitoshi sniffled.

Aizawa didn’t respond, he just wrapped his arms around the boy and hugged him like he never planned to let go.

“Dammit, did I sleep through some heartwarming moment?” Yamada said with a gasp. Hitoshi couldn’t see his face due to still being hugged by Aizawa but he could imagine the overly fake offended look on his face. It made him giggle and he started giggling even more when he felt another set of arms wrap around them.

Yeah, he was safe here.