Work Text:
“We’re dropping the case,”
“…excuse me?”
“I understand you’re upset, but-”
“Upset?” Aizawa hisses through his phone, “Does not even begin to cover what I’m feeling,”
“We have no proof,”
“The proof is the 5-year-old kid that asked for my help.”
“Yes but-“
“He’s bruised and burned to hell and back, he has an ice burn across his face, he-“
“Eraserhead!” The chief of police snaps, the phone warping his voice as he raises it, though he quickly drops it back to his lowered tone. “As I said, the case is no longer our concern. You need to bring the child back to the station immediately. Your temporary custody will be nullified by the end of the day.”
Aizawa looks at the kid he put next to his crappy radio, playing a random pop song with a children’s magazine he all but forced into Shouto’s hands. Shouto Todoroki; the runaway kid that he found hiding in an alleyway a few days ago; Endeavour’s voice bellowing through the streets.
“He paid you off,” Aizawa realises, a sick feeling rising in his throat. “Endeavour, he’s paying to cover this up.”
“I am not to disclose any information regarding the case anymore. The Hero Commission is shutting down any false reports-“
Aizawa stops listening, mind quickly processing all the information. Endeavour is bribing the Police to ignore the incident and to abandon the developing child abuse case, and the Hero Commission is supporting him?
“Right, fine.” Aizawa grits through his teeth. “I get it.”
“You’ll cooperate then?” The chief asks, “Endeavour already has a chauffeur waiting here to collect the child. Bring him in with no more difficulty and you will be compensated for your time and indiscretion.”
Aizawa takes a shaky breath, he knows what he has to do.
“I understand,”
He hangs up.
-
“Where are we going?”
Aizawa almost misses the small voice, more focused on their surroundings than anything else. He looks down at Shouto, carrying him on his hip as he winds silently through alleys.
“Away,”
Shouto hums, tightening his grip on Aizawa’s jumper, only keeping quiet for a few moments before speaking up again.
“Have I given you trouble?”
“Not at all,”
Shouto hesitantly accepts this answer and drops his head back on Aizawa’s shoulder.
Shouto falls asleep, the lull of Aizawa’s steps, the late night, the stress catching up with him. Aizawa’s grateful the kid’s asleep, but selfishly, wants some company and someone to tell him what to do. (Not that a traumatised 5-year-old would provide help, but it forces Aizawa to be a calm, reassuring presence)
A few months after graduating UA and he’s already out of his depth. Now effectively homeless, with a kid, and not to mention he’s now a, vigilante-at-best but more likely a criminal.
“Fuck,”
These moments are crucial, Aizawa knows this. It’s the easiest time to get caught, the first few hours after a disappearance so he wants to put as much space between them and Musutafu before morning. With that in mind, he keeps walking.
He sits them on the train station platform, waiting 40 minutes for the next train. He purchases a coffee for himself and a juice and milk bread for Shouto.
“Shouto,” He says quietly, which is all that’s needed to rouse the kid from sleeping. And now that he’s said Shouto’s name aloud, he realises he should probably give them both an alias. That can come later.
“Here,” He gives the snack to Shouto, “I’m guessing you’re hungry, right?”
Shouto fiddles with the wrapper, cautious. “What about you?”
“Huh?”
“You hungry too?”
“Oh, no, I’m alright kid.” Shouto doesn’t seem to believe him. “Do you need help opening it?”
Shouto silently hands the milk bread back to him, Aizawa opening it and handing it back.
-
Aizawa wakes up to the sound of muffled crying and he is instantly on alert.
“Shouto?”
It is the kid; they fell asleep leaning against a wall. Aizawa put their bag on Shouto’s lap, for a little comfort and warmth, and sat next to him. He has a crick in his neck, and his arm is a little numb from where Shouto was leaning on it.
“Kid,” Aizawa gently extracts himself, so he can face Shouto. “It’s okay Shouto, hey, you’re okay,”
“-m sorry,”
“You’re okay, there’s nothing to apologize for, deep breaths kid.”
“-I wake you,”
“You did, I’m not mad. You’ve done nothing wrong,”
Aizawa holds out his hand and Shouto grabs it, it’s a little wet from where he was stifling his tears and it’s shaking as he trembles.
“It’s alright, you’re alright,”
-
“How’s it going?” Aizawa asks Shouto, crouching next to him as he works through a Maths book.
It’s a warm day and they’re hiding from the sun under a shaded bridge. The busy road above them refrains from keeping the atmosphere peaceful, but they’ve eaten, Aizawa has a little cash in his pocket from an odd job (painting over graffiti an old shop owner was struggling with), and Shouto has finally understood the concept he was struggling with yesterday.
“I’m doing it right?” He stops shading the ratio of the circle, looking up at Aizawa for approval.
The page is messy, from Shouto having to rub out his previous attempts and redoing it a few times.
“It’s looking good,” Aizawa nods, patting Shouto a little awkwardly on the head. “No mistakes, nice job.”
Shouto looks down at his workbook, eyes lighting up (No full smile yet, Aizawa notes) and finishes colouring the correct shape fraction. Once done, he puts down his pencil and closes the book, giving both to Aizawa to put away in their bag safely.
“Your hard work has earned a reward,” Aizawa mutters, putting the rucksack behind him. “A celebratory nap,”
Aizawa drops down, using the bag as a pillow, laying down partly off the cardboard they laid on the stone. He drops his arm over his eyes to block the light.
He waits for a moment, listening to see what Shouto will do. Shouto shuffles over to Aizawa’s side and after a few moments, he lightly taps Aizawa’s shoulder. Aizawa peeks from under his arm as Shouto leans closer to him.
He tilts his head and blinks. “Nap?”
Aizawa huffs a laugh, “I guess that’s more my kind of reward, huh,” He says a little teasingly before sitting up again. “Alright kid, you win, what do you want to do?”
Shouto sits back on his knees, staring past Aizawa’s shoulder in thought.
“…we could play a game?” Aizawa suggests.
Shouto perks up, “Yes,”
“Do you have a preference?”
Aizawa gives Shouto more time to think.
“I don’t know any games,”
“That’s okay,” Aizawa keeps a calm expression (despite wanting to strangle Endeavour), “I know some. How about I teach you a few and you can decide on what you like.”
“Yes please,”
…now Aizawa has to remember literally any game…
“I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with, s.” Aizawa drawls out, more entertained by Shouto looking around curiously than the game itself. He points at the objects before saying them aloud, which, unnecessary for the game, but is admittedly cute.
“…scarf?”
“Nope,”
Shouto flinches a little at the incorrect guess but keeps looking around.
Shouto points again, “Sky?”
“Oh, that’s a clever guess.” Aizawa shakes his head, “But no.”
Shouto brings his hand back to his chest before looking around again. He’s clearly running out of possibilities.
“Stone?”
“No, not stone.” Aizawa shakes his head. He leans closer to Shouto, dropping his voice like he’s revealing a secret. “Do you want to know what it is?”
Shouto nods quickly.
Aizawa exaggerates a deep breath in, keeping Shouto in anticipation. “Sleep,” Aizawa exhales, before dramatically flopping down back onto the cardboard.
Shouto gasps (it almost sounds like a laugh), poking Aizawa again.
“You can’t ‘I spy’ sleep,”
Aizawa can’t help but laugh at Shouto’s reaction, sitting back up. He takes in Shouto’s baffled expression and shakes his head. “You’re right kid, I’m just joking. My actual ‘I spy’ answer is… Shouto,”
Shouto points at himself before confirming, “Me?”
“Shouto starts with a s, doesn’t it.” Aizawa nods and Shouto blinks. “Your turn again kid,”
Unlike his previous turns, Shouto is quick to find his own this time.
“I spy, with my lil’ eyes, something with z.” He says, looking at Aizawa expectantly.
Z?
Aizawa looks around with a hum, but already knows he’s not going to guess it correctly.
“A zip?” He watches as Shouto looks at the bag.
“No,”
“A zebra?”
Shouto shakes his head, yeah, no shit.
With a big sigh, Aizawa tips his head at Shouto. “You got me, what is it?”
Shouto points at him, “’zawa.”
“’Zawa,” Aizawa says blankly.
Shouto nods, and well, he concedes ‘zawa does, technically, start with a z. Shouto seems happy with his win though, so Aizawa rolls with it.
“I think you win that game kid,” He concludes. “How about something else?”
-
Aizawa shivers, the alcove they’ve ended up in for the night does little to protect them from the wind. He’s sat closest to the path, with Shouto curled up on his other side, partly laying on their rucksack.
He can hear drunken shouts from down the street, but far enough away to be a non-issue. He does turn to make sure Shouto is mostly draped in his shadow, which he is. The shouts get a little louder before they turn off the street, and thankfully away from them.
“’Zawa?” Shouto keeps his voice low, “Sleep?”
“I’m not that tired kid,” Aizawa says, “You get back to sleep.”
Shouto shuffles, trying to get comfortable.
Aizawa winces, “You want my scarf to lie on? I know this isn’t very comfy.” He holds out his capture weapon, dirty from months of being unwashed, but still solid; holding together well.
“You need it,”
“I’m alright,”
“You’re shaking,”
He is, Aizawa’s hand is trembling. From tiredness, hunger, or the cold, he doesn’t quite know. Before he can formulate any further reassurances, Shouto sits up and pushes the scarf back onto Aizawa.
“Here,” He says, awkwardly wrapping his arms around Aizawa to dress him back in the scarf. Once he’s done, he hesitates, before clambering onto Aizawa’s lap. Aizawa can only sit there as Shouto makes himself comfortable. Once settled, slowly, Aizawa can feel Shouto’s quirk start to warm up.
“Is this better?” Shouto asks.
And it is, Aizawa feels Shouto’s warmth. His weight atop of him is comforting, the steady feeling of his heartbeat.
“Yeah kid,” Aizawa brings his arms up to secure Shouto, to create a little barrier between him and the world. “A lot better, thank you.”
Shouto hums, “Good,”
Aizawa, whilst he doesn’t sleep, relaxes for the first time in a while.
-
“’Zawa,” Shouto pulls himself out of his hiding place, as Aizawa pulls himself through the window. They’ve holed up in an abandoned apartment building. There are a few other ‘residents’, a group that is always passed out taking the first floor, a couple above them, one of them with a quirk that unhinges her jaw which is deemed too villainous for work, the other is quirkless. And Aizawa’s seen other individuals coming in and out, seen a few signs of smoking in the stairway, a used condom on a windowsill.
Still, it’s the safest place they’ve been in a while. They have a door that is permanently locked (the key long lost) and a broken window that Aizawa can only get in using his capture weapon.
Shouto still hides when alone though, it’s a habit, and nowhere is actually safe.
“Hi kid, I got dinner.”
Shouto walks closer to Aizawa, grabbing a fistful of his trousers, using him to balance as he tries to peer in the bag. His building confidence is heartwarming.
“I got some onigiri for myself,” He guides Shouto to the cleanest part of the floor, dropping down to sit himself. Shouto sits close next to him and Aizawa starts pulling their food out of the bag. “And, for you…” He trails off, before pulling out a cheap, plastic bento.
“Soba,” Shouto gasps (Like Aizawa doesn’t try and get this for him at least once a week).
“I got you a spinach salad too,” Aizawa pulls it out. “We can share, but I want you to eat a few bites. At least then I can plead plausible deniability at enabling your soba addiction,”
“I like soba,”
“I know kid,”
After they’ve eaten, Shouto shuffles over to the window, settling in to pass the time people-watching, as he’s growing used to doing.
“I have something else for you,”
Shouto turns from where he’s sitting, tilting his head at Aizawa.
“For me?”
Aizawa walks over, crouching down, to hand Shouto his little gift.
“It’s a capsule toy,” He explains, taking Shouto’s hand and dropping the ball in it. “You get them from a machine, and the toy inside is one of a set.
“What is it?”
“You’ll have to open it to find out,” Shouto goes to hand the ball back to Aizawa. “Give it a try, you see that little clip, you just need to pop it open.”
Shouto struggles, it’s a little stiff but after a moment. Pop! He jumps a little at the action but his curiosity wins out and he looks in the capsule.
“It’s blue,”
“Oh, you got the penguin,” Aizawa watches as Shouto carefully pulls out the small plush, keychain. “It looks like a knockoff Tuxedo Sam,”
“Tuxey who?”
“Tuxedo Sam, he’s one of Hello Kitty’s friends,”
Shouto stares at him blankly.
“Yeah, never mind.”
“Sam,” Shouto looks back at the penguin. It has a little hat that sits too straight on its head to be cute, Aizawa blinks, but…
“It’s mine?” Shouto asks, Aizawa nods.
“Oh,” Shouto says then, a little stunned. “Thank you ‘Zawa,”
“You’re welcome kid,”
They’re packing the next morning, well, Aizawa is changing his shirt for a slightly-less-dirty one and trying to wake himself up. Shouto is with Sam by their rucksack, before he gasps in success and turns around.
“’Zawa look,”
Aizawa is looking, and the more he looks at it, the uglier the penguin becomes. And now it’s hanging off their bag, great.
-
Aizawa feels lucky he’s so inconspicuous. Average height, unassuming looks, black hair; he can walk around moderately freely. Shouto however, Aizawa looks at him as he practises writing kanji (Shouto finished the maths book a few weeks ago, and Aizawa finally saved enough to feel comfortable buying him another) is very identifiable, not to mention people are specifically looking for him.
Split red and white hair, almost always covered by a hood. Heterochromic eyes, bright blue and dark grey. An obvious covering a third of his face.
“I think we should dye your hair Sho,”
Shouto looks up.
“You have a colour preference?”
“Hm?”
“Your hair colour,” Aizawa gestures loosely at his head, “We can change it so it’s not white and red. We’re far enough away from Musutafu that they won’t follow up on hair dye purchases either,”
“Change hair co’our?”
“Yep, it’s probably best if you choose brown or black though. So, which one?”
“You change yours too?”
“No, just yours, kid.”
Shouto turns back to his book as he thinks, but quickly makes up his mind. “Black please,”
“Okay,” Aizawa’s already mapping the quickest route to the store, dividing the money in his head too…
“We’ match then,” Shouto sits up straighter, eyes lighting up. “I look like ‘Zawa!”
That’s cute. “You want to match with me?”
“Yes please,”
“Okay kid,” Aizawa pats Shouto’s hair with a wad of paper towels, it does little to soak up all the water but at least Shouto isn’t dripping wet. “You’re all done.”
“Hair black now?”
“It sure is,” Aizawa throws the paper towels in the bin, along with the rest of the box-dye mess.
He turns back to look at Shouto. He’s standing on his tiptoes, leaning against the sink in a futile attempt to look in the public bathroom’s mirror. Aizawa huffs out a laugh, tapping Shouto’s shoulder in warning before he lifts him up.
Shouto quickly settles on Aizawa’s hip, before staring at his reflection.
“You like it?”
Shouto hums, bringing a hand up to slowly touch his new hair. “It’s black,”
“It looks good,”
Staring for a few more moments, Shouto eventually nods. “ ‘s good.” Shouto’s eyes flick between their reflections before bringing a hand up to grab at them (which was just Shouto simply grabbing the air in front of them). “We match.”
“We do.” Aizawa agrees, “Black suits you,”
“Black ‘uits you too,”
Aizawa huffs a laugh. “Thanks, kid,”
-
It’s late, as Aizawa and Shouto walk through the city; time to move on. It’s been like any other, but a couple of weeks is long enough to be found so it’s time to go.
Shouto’s walking himself. He has a too-big jumper on, a coat over the top, and shoes with room to grow. It’s causing him to walk a little slowly as he navigates his slightly big shoes, but Aizawa easily slows his pace to match.
“Aaa, mummy!” A child across the street laughs. Aizawa glances at the noise and writes it off as a non-threat, looking away. Shouto is more interested.
The child is holding the mother’s hand, as the mother swings their joined limbs, a little silly but it causes more laughter to bubble out of them both.
Overall, they pass quickly; Shouto trips over himself slightly as he looks over his shoulder to watch them until they turn a corner. He blinks, turning back to Aizawa who is a few steps ahead of him now, and runs a little to catch up.
Aizawa’s hands are in his pockets.
Shouto looks down at his own before looking back at Aizawa’s.
He can’t hold Aizawa’s hand with it hidden, but he can get close. Tentative, Shouto brings his hand to grab the fabric near Aizawa’s pocket. There’s a fleeting feeling of hope before Aizawa pulls his hand away, Shouto recoiling instantly.
Aizawa’s hand flashes in the corner of his vision and Shouto flinches, awaiting the accompanying hit, but it never comes. Instead, it simply stays there, open. Shouto blinks at it before it registers, an offer.
Shouto lifts both his hands and carefully grabs it. Aizawa’s hand is much larger than his; it’s dry, even hard in a few places, but Shouto doesn’t care; it’s perfect. One of Shouto’s hands is gently held by Aizawa’s, and Shouto’s other hand holds the outside of Aizawa’s hand, latching onto a finger.
Shouto feels tired after walking for a while, they’re still holding hands; Shouto’s second hand dropped a little ago but his first is still comfy and warm.
-
“’Zawa,” Shouto gasps, tugging Aizawa further behind the electrical cabinet at the back of the parking lot. They got trapped here just before the sun rose, and with an area this populated, Aizawa doesn’t want to take the risk of crowds and… “Patrol, up there.”
Aizawa makes sure his legs are pulled as close to him as possible. Shouto goes silent as the hero comes near them. The hero jumps into the car park, landing on his spring feet, and stretching his arms above his head.
“Hurry up,” He calls over his shoulder, and a young sidekick comes running after him. “We still got a mountain of paperwork to do back at HQ.”
“Yes, Spring-loaded,”
His sidekick pants, her arms resting on her knees. The muscles in her legs literally shrink as her quirk balances her muscle mass through her body. Spring-loaded jumps back out, clearing the rest of the parking lot in a single bounce. She looks up at where he went before, heaving herself up, pushing the muscles back into her legs, and running off.
Aizawa and Shouto can relax a little as they continue to wait out the day.
-
Shouto eats, breakfast? dinner? a midnight snack?, a bento at 3 in the morning. A stolen bento, because they are officially out of yen.
Aizawa leans his head back against the chain-link fence as they ‘camp’ in a fenced-off alley, as he has an internal battle with his own morals. Shouto focused on his food, hungry after a day without.
Stealing is wrong, but it’s worse for Shouto to go hungry, so stealing the Bento was the correct choice; Aizawa stands by that. Stealing a meal for himself feels worse? But how will he get money to pay for one? Odd jobs were fine until now, but they can’t be relied on. Aizawa hasn’t managed to find one in a while; the last one was helping a couple move into their new house. He can’t just walk around the neighbourhood, hoping someone’s moving in and would be willing to give him a few yen for help.
He’s only shaken from his thoughts when Shouto tucks into his side, drunken shouting the reason.
“He won’t see us,” Aizawa lowers his voice in reassurance, keeping an eye on the entrance to the alley. The man stumbles into view, he’s alone.
“I said-“ He hiccups, shouting into his phone. “To pick me up now! Fuck’s sake woman,”
He’s alone, he’s drunk, he’s clearly an asshole.
“No, I didn’t lose any money, I won back everything I bet!”
And he has money; most probably, cash.
“Just tonight, not last week’s debts. Fucks sake, I’ll win. And when I do, I won’t share any with you, bitch.”
Aizawa’s stomach grumbles. He glances down at Shouto’s food, all gone, the plastic container completely clean. The kid’s still hungry. And he slowly stands.
“Eyes closed, Sho,”
Technically, it could still be self-defence. Aizawa notes as he stands above the man, as the man swung first. Aizawa holds the man’s, hung up, phone after he politely ended the call the man’s girlfriend? wife?, whoever she is, didn’t need to hear that.
The man’s wallet is in Aizawa’s other hand. ¥15,000.
“’Zawa?”
“Kid,” Aizawa exhales, forcing himself to keep calm. “It’s alright now, you can open your eyes.”
Shouto does, he awkwardly lifts their rucksack and rushes over to meet with Aizawa. Aizawa lowers himself into a crouch. Shouto comes to stand by Aizawa, staring at the unconscious man.
“Is he okay?”
Aizawa swallows. “He’s alive.”
“Was ‘he bad?”
“Kind of,”
“Oh,”
Aizawa takes the rucksack, slowly slinging it over his shoulder. “Are you okay, Shouto?”
Shouto hums absently but quickly latches onto Aizawa’s hand that he offers. Shouto doesn’t know what to think of the situation, understandable, Aizawa’s on the fence too, but at least he isn’t afraid of Aizawa.
Aizawa opens the wallet again, pocketing the cash, before dropping it by the man. He picks up the man’s phone, dialling 119 and they leave before the ambulance can arrive.
-
Aizawa stalks through the alleys, keeping a slow pace so Shouto can follow him, as they trail Aizawa’s target; a drug dealer. She goes by the name of Flicker, with a semi-unstable, but weak, transparency quirk, never having the chance to train with it; it almost makes Aizawa feel sympathetic.
Regardless, as parts of her body flicker out of sight before becoming opaque again, she’s a criminal who is carrying cash and once they turn a corner, Aizawa knows the time is right.
“Disappear, kid,”
Shouto nods, pausing to take the bag from Aizawa, before turning back to find a temporary place to hide. Aizawa’s already throwing out his capture weapon,
“I knew someone was following me,” She hisses, jumping out of the way, only her arm getting caught in the scarf. Still, it’s enough for Aizawa to prevent her from running.
“Get off,” She pulls at the fabric, almost getting free because of the weak hold Aizawa landed, so he pulls on the weapon hard. The scarf untangles from her, but the force is enough to send her onto the floor.
“Son of a bitch,” She grazes her palms. Aizawa quickly comes over to her before wrestling her into a hold, quickly and efficiently zip-tying her wrists together, behind her back.
Aizawa ignores her cursing, instead focusing on patting down her pockets. He finds ¥10,000 in her inside pocket, and regardless if she’s carrying more, this is enough, so Aizawa pulls back.
“That’s mine asshole,” She writhes on the floor, a surprising amount of strength for someone so scrawny. “Give it back, or I swear to god, I’ll report you!”
“-you’ll report me?” Aizawa deadpans. “Sure, have the dealer call the police. I’m sure that will go well,”
“You don’t have any proof,”
Aizawa rolls his eyes. “They can get that themselves,”
“Look, I need the money,” She starts, voice soft. “I have my little brother at home. And he needs the money for his medication.”
“Never heard that one before,” Aizawa huffs.
“Oh, fuck you,” Her tone changes again, “I earned that money, I didn’t mug someone for it.”
“You earned it by selling abusive substances; it’s hardly an honest 9-5. And besides, I’m not mugging you.”
“What?”
“I’m throwing you outside the nearest hero agency and leaving, consider this payment for my work.”
“Don’t,” She hisses. “You have the money, just fucking leave.”
Aizawa pauses from where he has her still restrained. “Don’t try anything,” He whips out a knife he picked up off the last villain he captured, cutting the zip tie loose.
He gets off her, “Quit selling,”
“Whatever,” She rubs her wrists, not looking at him.
“I mean it, get a job.”
She sneers at him then, “Hypocrite,”
“It’s complicated,” Aizawa starts, before sighing; he’s done here. He turns to walk back to where Shouto disappeared. “Next time, I won’t let you go so easily.”
“Fuck off,” She says, but turns around too, and they leave the encounter without more violence.
-
Shouto opens his lunch, and as always, breaks off a piece for Aizawa to have. It’s the corner of his sandwich, and this time Aizawa takes it because he can offer his own in return.
“Thanks, kid,” Aizawa takes the bite, humming. He didn’t get much of the filling, only a bit of lettuce that reached the edge, but regardless. “Hm, it’s good.”
“Yes,” Shouto agrees, taking another bite.
Aizawa tears off a piece of his own sandwich, offering it to Shouto.
Shouto lights up, taking the piece carefully. “Thank you,” He eats it, the chicken lightly seasoned, the salad fresh. He swallows and smiles. “Is good.”
-
Aizawa perches on the roof opposite the bank, watching as a villain group silently breaks in. They work well, are efficient, and haven’t tripped any alarms. They get in smoothly, and 5 minutes later, they’re leaving.
Aizawa trails them for a moment, then jumps down, landing on the back member of the group. They crumble, falling hard onto the concrete, not unconscious, but bleary enough for Aizawa to stand a little harder, in a firm, stay down.
“I got you a present,” Aizawa sits down on the floor of another abandoned building. The city they’ve wandered into is further inland, with a beautiful view of the mountains out the glassless, window.
“Oh?” Shouto looks up from another workbook. He’s getting through them quickly, this one is explaining the rain cycle, and includes a pretty diagram that Shouto wants to go back and colour in. Aizawa has a new set of crayons in his pocket, but that isn’t the present he has today.
Shouto hesitates, looking back at his half-finished work, that he clearly wants to temporarily abandon.
“You can leave it Shouto, you’ve done a lot of work today.”
Shouto quickly closes his book, pushing it to the side. “You have some’ing? For me?”
“I do,” Aizawa nods, hiding a smile as Shouto, not-so-subtly, starts looking at his hands, at anything sticking out of Aizawa’s pockets. “It’s bigger than I can hide, you’ll have to find it.”
Shouto’s eyes widen, following Aizawa’s pointed gaze to their bag.
“In the bag?”
“Go have a look,”
Shouto pushes himself over and starts his quickly-complete search. He pulls out a box, bringing it back to Aizawa.
“Dommynos?”
“Domino’s, yes.”
“What is Dom’no’s?”
“It’s a game, you match the dots.”
Shouto lights up. “We play now?”
“Sure, I’ve got time.”
-
They’re enjoying the rain. As in, Aizawa is sat under a bankrupt store’s awning, whilst Shouto stands around under his new frog umbrella. The umbrella is green, as you would expect, with printed eyes and a bow in the frog’s non-existent hair.
Aizawa has quickly learned, that with his small amount of disposable cash, he has a hard time saying no to Shouto. So, frog umbrella, it is.
“Are you getting rained on?” Aizawa asks because Shouto doesn’t know how to talk about his new umbrella without prompting.
“No,”
“That’s good,”
Shouto looks at his umbrella. “It’s green,”
“Yep.”
Shouto is still content to simply stand there, looking around the street, at the growing puddles, and up to his umbrella.
-
“’Zawa?”
“Yeah, kid?”
“-Thank you,”
Aizawa hums, crouching down to be at Shouto’s level. Shouto shuffles a little closer.
“For what kid?”
“For savin’ me,”
Aizawa brings his hand up to cup Shouto’s cheek. “Of course, Shouto, but you don’t have to thank me.”
“I do,” Shouto swallows, tears starting to build up. “You’re really nice to me. You don’t hurt me, or make me train, and get me things and teach me how to play,”
“Oh kid,”
“You’re safe and I like being with you, even though we don’t have a house, I want to be with you always,”
Aizawa immediately pulls Shouto in for a hug, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Yeah kid, me too. You’re a good kid Shouto, I’ll keep you safe,”
Shouto chokes a little on his sobs as he clutches Aizawa’s jumper. Aizawa keeps holding him, muttering reassurances.