Chapter Text
It was 4 o’clock that morning when he resided himself to sleeplessness. Without turning on the light, he looked at the sleeping form beside him. His husband was completely out of it and snoring at an impossible volume. Aizawa mused that if it weren’t for the man’s hearing aids charging on the nightstand, he would have woken himself up.
Carefully getting out of bed, Aizawa trudged through the dark apartment, maneuvering around the cats that decided to lay in the middle of the walkway.
Making it to the kitchen, he flicked on a light and started the pot of coffee.
As the rich smell filled the apartment his mind drifted back to the nightmares that kept him awake.
It was cruel that every year, he was forced to remember what happened, what he did. Like he could ever forget. But the painful reminder came every year like clockwork like a divine punishment.
Because that's what it was, a punishment. Whether it was his subconscious or ethereal being at fault, he deserved it nonetheless.
So he took it. Just like he did every year. Going through the motions, ignoring all of it, just to get through the day.
As the coffee pot finished filling, he waited no time before getting a mug and pouring the still-steaming liquid in.
Looking through the large windows in his apartment he took in all of the lights. The streets themselves were fairly empty, something unsurprising for the time, but the city itself still held life despite the early hour.
The stars were a mere concept in the big city of Musutafu, but the thousands of lights that filled the city were like a galaxy on their own. Having grown up in a much smaller town, the electronic billboards and never-ending skyscrapers of Musutafu never ceased to amaze him. But even looking at them now, just made him feel hopeless compared to the size of the city. Out of the three million people in the entire Shizuoka Prefecture, he only had one on his mind. One that despite never having been found, was no longer counted as part of the three million.
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He didn’t wait for Hizashi before going to work. Seeing as he was out the door two hours early and his husband was still asleep, he didn’t think too much about it. He wrote a note and decided to use the metro to get to work, leaving the car for Hizashi to drive.
The train was scattered with people, many seemingly heading home from work or heading to it. Aizawa relished in the space in the typically crowded cars.
The ride passed like a blur but when he finally surfaced from underground, the sun shined through the lines of buildings.
The station closest to U.A. was on the edge of the city and the skyscrapers melted into smaller residential apartments and buildings. From there the walk to U.A.’s grounds was short but still quite the trek till you reached the actual entrance.
However, the solitude of the walk was appreciated and Aizawa forced his mind to focus on the day’s lesson plans rather than the memories that haunted his night.
Just when he reached the gate, he felt his phone buzzing. Looking at the caller I.D. he found ‘Hunk Muffin <3’ greeting him.
“One of these days, you’re going to call me and someone else is going to see this,” Aizawa said as he reacted to his husband’s latest self-elected nickname.
“Come on,” his husband’s tired voice came through the phone, “you know you love it.”
Aizawa only huffed a laugh at the claim and the two fell into silence each unwanting to start the conversation.
“I saw your note.”
It was stated as a simple fact, nothing more, nothing less but when Aizawa heard it all he could feel was the accusation.
“I couldn’t sleep, so I headed to work early.”
“It’s alright,” his husband yawned before pausing to measure his courage, “Are you okay?”
“Y-yeah.”
Neither of them believed it.
“I’ll see you at work, okay?” Aizawa said as he reached the school’s entrance.
“Okay,” Hizashi said with a sigh hidden in his words, “I love you, Sho.”
Aizawa stopped where he was changing his shoes, “I love you, too.”
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He actually wasn’t able to see Hizashi before school or even during lunch. And no it wasn’t that he was avoiding his husband and therefore also avoiding any talk of his current feelings or mindset. It was just that he was busy, preparing for his class.
Speaking of that class, they were back in his room for the last hour of the day and with every passing minute the knot in his stomach became tighter and tighter.
There were still 10 minutes left of class when the nerves that had been growing all day reached their peak.
“That is all for today, Class,” he said hurriedly as he grabbed all of his possessions, “Class is dismissed.”
With that he left the room and ran down the hall, unaware of the bewildered faces of all of his students.
“Is he okay?” Kaminari, a particularly brave student asked when the whole class fell into silence in shock.
“I don’t know he has been acting strange all day,” Midoriya remarked, ever able to pick up on other people’s behaviors.
“I wonder if it has to do with his job as a pro hero?”
“Who cares!” A pink-skinned student proclaimed standing from her seat. “As long as we get to beat the end-of-school rush, it’s fine with me.”
The rest of the class seemed to agree and it only took a little convincing to a certain ever-rule-abiding-student, for all of the class to leave after her.
But as he changed his shoes, one green-haired student couldn’t help but still wonder about his homeroom teacher and what could have caused him to be in such a rush.
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After his quick departure from his own classroom, Shouta went to the faculty parking lot and found their car which Hizashi drove to work. After sending a quick text explaining where he was going to Hizashi, the blonde man was quick to call him.
“Listen, Sho,” Hizashi said over the phone, “just give me a few moments and I can head down with you. This isn’t something you have to do on your own.”
“Thank you for the sentiment, Zashi, but I’ll be fine. I’m just going to my parents-”
“I know,” he interrupted, “I just… I hate seeing you suffer like this every year. You have enough on your plate without having to deal with that man on top of it… I just wish there was something I can do.”
“There isn’t anything anyone could do. Not anymore.”
“Just call me when you’re on your way home, okay?” The line goes silent as the only sound remaining is the hustle of the city, “I love you, Sho.”
“I love you too, Zashi. I’ll call you later.”
The messy-haired man hung up the phone and turned his focus back on the road. After an hour or so of driving the city became the familiar residential area he grew up in. His mind freely wandered as he instinctively drove past the lines of houses until he pulled to a stop as he reached his childhood home.
Despite just being a simple two-story home, the entire house felt as if it were towering over him. It lacked the comfy feeling he used to see as a kid, leaving what could only be described as suffocating.
Taking a shaking breath, Aizawa exits the car and forces his way up to the house, hesitating before knocking on the door.
Seconds later the door opens revealing an older woman, her hair long as it falls down her back far more gracefully than her son’s. “Shouta” the woman gushed as she pulled him into a hug, “It’s so great to see you.”
Still wrapped in the short woman’s hug, looking past her shoulder Aizawa watched as his father sat in the same chair he did twenty years ago, not looking up or acknowledging his son’s presence at all.
“Shouta,” his mother said holding the sides of his face, “it’s been so long. My little boy’s all grown up.”
A rough scoff was heard from the chair where his father sat.
“Kenzo,” the woman threatened, “there is no need for that.”
“It’s all right, Momma,” Shouta assured trying just to get through this dinner without a fight.
“Yeah listen to the boy, Chiyo,” the man sneered. “They brat should be used to it by now. Goes around telling everyone he’s a boy, shaming the family, then can't even look the part. Growing your hair out to your ass-”
“Kenzo can we just have one night together?” The woman asked exasperatedly, “You promised you wouldn’t start anything.”
“Mom, it’s fine,” Shouta assured, “I just wanna pay my respects, then me and you can do dinner some other time.”
“Shouta, you don’t have to compromise yourself for your father.”
“I know, Momma. I just have a lot of school papers to grade and still have to do patrol tonight,” he lied.
Despite her want to protest, the older woman just nodded her head and shot her son a sad smile as he walked up the stairs and into a narrow hallway lined with doors.
Bellow him he could hear the sounds of his mother’s scolding coming up from the living room as he walked past his own childhood bedroom before he came to a stop at the second door. A nameplate was tapped unevenly onto the chipped wood of the door. Underneath a thick layer of dust was messy kanji written with crayon and surrounded by stick drawings of heroes. Turning the handle he stepped into the time capsule of a room.
Not a toy was moved, not a marker was put back in the box, and not a piece of laundry was picked up off the floor. The room was exactly the same as it was that morning before school, except for the little shrine set up in the corner of the room.
Slowly crossing the room, he kneeled before it as he lit the candles beside it. His heart pounded inside his chest causing him to take a few shaky breaths trying to calm the storm inside his mind.
“Hey sidekick,” Shouta said his voice uncharacteristically weak as he looked at the picture of the smiling brown-haired boy, “It’s been 14 years since I last saw you.”
“I still get nightmares about it. I can’t help but think what would have happened if it was me who disappeared that day. Maybe Mom and Dad would be happier if they had you here instead of me.” The man trailed off allowing the lump forming in his throat to thicken. “There’s not a day that goes by where I wish I kept a better eye on you. Or at least was smart and made us go straight home.”
“I’m so sorry, otoutosan,” he choked out the sob he was holding in. “I’m so sorry I failed you, Osamu.”