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“You want to do what?”
“You heard me. I want to enroll in U.A. Hero Course.”
“Dad’s gonna kill you.”
Hizashi’s younger sister, Rene, sits across from him peeling an orange. She’s right, and he knows it. The Yamadas aren’t exactly known for being the most heroic of families. The Yamada family had once been a wealthy powerful Yakuza family with its fingers in nearly every criminal operation in the country. Unfortunately, when crime syndicates fell, the Yamada family went with them. Hizashi’s grandfather had been arrested when their father, Junnesuke, was a baby, and he had wasted the family fortune with his gambling by the time he was locked up.
In the present, Hizashi, his parents, and eight of his eleven siblings, live in a two bedroom apartment in Shibuya. He spends a lot of time sleeping on the couch - living with ten other people, all of whom possess voice related quirks, is not the easiest of feats. He counts himself a little lucky, though - it’s made him remarkably tolerant to noise.
Hizashi opens his mouth to argue back and is interrupted by two of their other siblings charging through the living room.
“Give him back, Asami! He’s not yours!”
“Make me! You’re tiny, what are you gonna do?”
Hizashi and Rene exchange looks and cover their ears just as the younger of the two screams.
“No quirks in the house, Yano!” Their mother yells from the kitchen.
Asami, who had dropped the stuffed frog that Yano was after in an attempt to cover her ears, gives him a withering glare at him as he snatches it from the floor.
“Famous last words, yo,” Rene says, casting a glare in Asami’s direction and popping the last of her orange into her mouth. Asami grunts in response and shuffles back down the hallway.
“Anyway, back to what you were saying. Do you really think it’s a good idea? We all know how dad feels about heroics, what with what happened to grandpa and all.”
“I know. But it’s not his choice, is it?”
“Ugh. You’re so hard headed. I give up,” she says, sliding off the couch and heading towards the kitchen. “But hey, I’ll be there to film it when he murders you in cold blood.”
And that’s exactly how Hizashi finds himself shifting awkwardly from one foot to another in front of his dad’s makeshift desk in the corner of the living room.
“Let me get this straight. You, Yamada Hizashi, want to enroll in the hero course?”
Hizashi gulps.
“Yes?”
His father narrows his eyes, takes a deep breath, and rubs his face.
“Alright. If you pass the entrance exam, you can go.”
“Really? I-”
His father holds up a hand, and Hizashi snaps his mouth shut, teeth clicking.
“You’ve always wanted to do your own thing. I won’t stifle you, but you can only attend on one condition. I won’t pay for your tuition, and I won’t pay for an apartment. If you want to be independent, you’ll have to do it yourself.”
Hizashi knows better than to argue. So he spends the next three months taking odd jobs around the city, enough to finally scrounge up enough money for a shitty studio apartment a few miles from the school, and applies for a scholarship to the school.
U.A. is nothing like what he expects. Or, rather, it’s exactly what he expects - but he’s still not prepared for it. His classes are fine, the people are fine, but he feels so out of place amongst people who have been around heroics their whole lives. By the end of the first week, he has not managed to make a single friend. He’s standing in the cafeteria during lunch on Firday, already slightly regretting his decision to enroll, when he’s waved over by a boy with floating blue hair.
“The name’s Shirakumo. We sit next to each other in class? Or, uh, I guess we’re like two seats away, but that’s not that far. You’re Yamada, right? You seemed really cool during the apprehension test, your quirk is really neat.”
“Oh! Thanks?”
Hizashi has never met someone more talkative than himself or a member of his family. They spend the hour swapping stories - and finding out they have a freakish amount in common - and by the time the next Friday rolls around, Shirakumo is already introducing Hizashi as his best friend.
A few months later, Hizashi faces a boy from Gen Ed in the sports festival finals. Aizawa Shouta.
Shouta, for his part, is doing his absolute best to calm his nerves. He’s never been this nervous, and he does not want to lose. He won’t lose. He can’t. He failed the entrance exam, he can’t afford to fail again here.
“Our challengers are - from class 1-A - Yamada Hizashi!”
Shouta watches as the blonde boy steps out onto the pitch.
“And from class 1-D, Aizawa Shouta!”
Shouta steps out too. He blocks out the noise as best as he can. He will do well. He has to do well to be accepted into the hero course.
“1… 2… 3… Begin!”
The boy in front of Shouta winds back, and Shouta erases his quirk. He coughs once. Twice. Shouta takes this opportunity to tackle him to the ground. He pins the blonde to the ground, and the match is called.
“Yamada is immobilized! The victor is Aizawa Shouta from class 1-D!”
The crowd goes wild. He releases his hold on the boy, who gets up, nose bleeding and eyes looking a little wounded at the speed of his loss. Shouta places first in the festival, and two days later, he steps into class 1-A.
“Aizawa-san will be joining us as a result of his incredible performance in the sports festival. Your seat is right in front of Iida.”
The blue haired boy smiles cheerfully and Shouta awkwardly sits down in front of him. *Oh god,* he thinks. *Why do I have to be at the front of the class.*
He stares awkwardly at the carvings on the desk
“Yamada! Are you eating in class again?”
“Uhhh…” Says a voice in the back. Shouta turns, watching the boy as he produces a bag of chips.
“Would you like some?”
“…No. Please put those away. You can wait for lunch.”
Wait. Uh oh. Yamada? As in that Yamada? As in the Yamada he beat during the sports festival? *Great*.
He’s dreading lunch, and when the class is dismissed to go eat, Yamada stays behind with him.
“Hey yo! You’re the guy who beat my ass at the sports festival.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t worry. Yamada here could stand to be taken down a peg.”
A blue haired boy walks up and slaps Yamada on the back, making him lurch forward. He catches himself on Shouta’s desk with an awkward grin.
“The name’s Shirakumo. You wanna hang out with us at lunch? We thought you were cool.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. C’mon, we wanna be friends!” Yamada says. Shouta stands up from his desk. He has half a mind to blow them off and eat by himself, but something in Yamada’s expression makes him fold.
“…Yeah. Sure. Thanks.”
“And hey, no hard feelings about the broken nose!”
The years fly by. Yamada becomes Hizashi, Shirakumo becomes Oboro, Kayama becomes Nemuri, and Aizawa becomes Shouta. And then everything changes when Oboro dies.
Funerals suck. He’s already been to more than anyone his age should have attended. His grandmother’s, his mother’s, his father’s and stepmother’s, and several other extended relatives who all seemed to die right at the same time.
He does not want to attend more. Thirty minutes after Oboro’s wake, Shouta sits outside behind a bush as people file out of the building.
“Shouta.”
There’s rustling, and then Hizashi pokes half of his body through the bush.
“Oh. Hi.”
Hizashi sits down next to him.
“Please don’t talk,” Shouta says, and Hizashi nods. He puts his head on Shouta’s shoulder, his blonde hair falling over his face. Shouta rests his head on Hizashi’s.
*He smells good.*
It takes Shouta about forty seconds to realize that is the complete wrong thing two be thinking about. Eventually, his sister calls him over and they head home. He sobs in the car and he cries himself to sleep. When he goes to school the next morning, he is very conscious of how much he stares at Hizashi. And he’s very conscious of how much Hizashi stares back.
One week later, he makes a list.
Aizawa Shouta is sure of only a few things in life.
1. Hospitals suck.
2. He wants to be a hero.
3. He’s feeling things beyond friendship for Hizashi.
“Saki? Can we talk?”
It’s nearly midnight. Saki is sprawled across the couch with a movie open on her computer and a bowl of popcorn on her lap.
“Yeah. You alright?”
He nudges her legs off the couch and sits down.
“How did you know you were a lesbian?”
“I kissed a girl during spin the bottle and it awakened something in me.”
“Oh. Well. I think I might be gay.”
She smiles and ruffles his hair.
“I know.”
“You- You do? How?”
“The same way you knew I was trans before I did. Gaydar, Shou,” she says, bouncing a piece of popcorn off his head. “It’s Hizashi, isn’t it? The blonde one?”
“…No?”
“Shou, you’re a horrible liar. And your hair floats when you look at him.”
“WHAT?”
“Your hair floats when you feel a strong emotion, like when you look at something you really like. Your hair floats when you look at Hizashi. Ergo, you really like Hizashi.”
“No, what about my hair?”
“It floats.”
“Yeah. What?”
“You know how my hair was floating at my wedding? And dad’s floated when he looked at mom? Same thing.”
“Oh.”
He isn’t sure what else to say. At school the next day, he finds Nemuri talking to some people from her class.
“Nem, I need to talk to you.” Without waiting for an answer, he grabs her arm and drags her away, ignoring her protests. He pulls her into an empty classroom, shutting the door behind them.
“Does my hair float when I look at Hizashi?”
“What?”
“My hair. Does it float.”
“Yeah. It does. Why?”
Shouta slumps against the wall.
“I have a huge crush on Hizashi. Massive. Very gay. I want to pull him into secret areas and do unclean things to him.”
Nemuri snorts.
“Unclean things. What are you, eighty?”
“*Nemuri*.”
“Sorry. What do you want me to do about it?”
That’s what he was afraid of. The thing is, he doesn’t know. Aside from confessing to Hizashi, nothing can make his feelings go away. Except time. Maybe.
“Nothing. For now. I’m not sure there’s anything *to* do.”
“Sure.”
“Tell Sushi I love him.”
“Can do.”
He spends the next few months becoming increasingly aware of the fact that he’s deeply in love with Hizashi. Which is great, given that he’s pretty sure Hizashi isn’t interested in him. Maybe. Although, as Nemuri is fond of saying, “*He totally wants to bone you, dude*.” Which Shouta is pretty sure is a lie. Emphasis on *pretty* sure.
Shouta finds Hizashi on the rooftop on the last day of classes before winter break.
“Uh, Zashi? What’s-“
“My dad told me not to come home.”
“What?”
Hizashi sniffles, and Shouta sits down next to him.
“I made the mistake of coming out.”
“Oh.”
It’s all Shouta can say, really.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t-“
“You can cry.”
Hizashi turns to Shouta and sobs into his shirt. Shouta wraps his arms around him, and neither of them say anything for several minutes.
“You… can stay with my family and I for the holidays. If you want.”
Hizashi nods, but doesn’t look up.
“I’d like that.”
Shouta makes good on his promise, and Christmas morning, Hizashi walks down from the guest bedroom to find Shouta already up.
“Shou! I didn’t expect you to be up.”
“I… couldn’t sleep.”
“Oh. Where’s Saki?”
“She’s picking up her girlfriend.”
“Oh.”
There’s something in the air, and Hizashi pointedly chooses to ignore it.
The gift opening is a blur, and dinner is a blur, and really, it’s very weird how *normal* Shouta and his siblings seem to be in comparison to Hizashi’s family. By the time Hizashi is fully coherent, the sun is already setting. Hizashi steps out onto the balcony and his breath catches when he sees Shouta.
“Shou. Hi.”
“Hi.”
There’s a moment of silence.
“Shou… I got you another gift too. Close your eyes.”
Shouta gives him a look of bewilderment, but does as he’s told. Hizashi takes a deep breath, and presses a light kiss to Shouta’s lips. He’s about to pull away when Shouta kisses him back. They pull away after what feels like an eternity, and Shouta’s face is bright red.
“I- You-”
“Merry Christmas, Shou.”
“Merry Christmas.”