Foster Homes

Edit: Missing chapter 4 has been added
Shinsou Hitoshi has been in and out of Foster Care ever since he got his Quirk. He's almost 17 now, has just recently transferred to Class 2-A, and is on his way to becoming a Proper Hero. Going back into Foster Care is the last thing he needs right now. Thankfully, he's got you, his Foster Mom, his favorite teacher Aizawa Shouta, and his best friends by his side.
This Story takes place after the war. Shigaraki and AFO have died, as have most of the League. Hawks has a desk job now.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter Text

There are downsides to growing older, Hitoshi thinks.

When you’re four, or nine, or eleven years old, a grown-up keeps you company while you wait for child services to deal with your mess of a mother, while they find a foster place to take you in.

Now, at almost seventeen, he has to wait on his own, knees drawn to his chest as he considers bolting.

But that’s a stupid idea. If he runs, he won’t be able to attend U.A. anymore. He kinda needs parental permission for a lot of things, like the summer training camp. Not to mention the cost of living. Everything had been easier when they still lived in dorms.

A door swings open on the far end of the hallway. It’s not the first time that happened tonight and he doubts they’re coming for him. Stuff like this usually takes time.

“Hitoshi?”

His head snaps up, surprised that he still remembers the sound of your voice so well.

You’ve grown taller, he thinks. But that could also stem from the combat boots you’re wearing. But God, where did you find a flannel in that color?

“Remember me?” You ask and to his utter mortification, he just starts crying.

“Hey,” he can hear the smile in your voice as you cower next to his chair, looking up into his face. “Are those happy tears, big guy?”

Hitoshi shakes his head and you open your arms, offering him a choice, as always.

He lets himself fall, remembering very well the last time you’ve held him like this.

“I don’t wanna go home,” he whispers into your ear as you crush him against your chest.

His mother’s waiting in the car and so far she hasn’t pressed the horn yet.

“I know,” you mutter back, rubbing a hand over his back. “But you’re going to be fine. You’ve got my number, right? Nothing to worry about.”

“I don’t wanna leave,” he emphasizes and you nod, your chin digging into his scalp.

“I know,” your voice breaks. “But she’s your mom. She worked hard for a second chance.”

Neither of you mentions that this is her third chance already, that he doesn’t doubt she will turn it around the same way she has all the other times before.

“I’m never going to be far,” you promise. “When you need me, I’ll be there.”

As it looks like, you’re keeping your promise.

A huge part of him, too big to admit to but big enough to be ashamed about, wants to hold your hand. Like he did at age eleven when he had to say goodbye. Or at age nine, when you brought him to school. Or at age four, when you taught him how to cross the street on his way to kindergarten.

But he doesn’t and you don’t ask for it, just sign the usual paperwork with a quiet smile on your face.

“You know the drill by now,” Tanabe-san mutters over the hum of the AC Unit. She’s been assigned to his case ever since he can remember. He should have known she’d call Granny.

Right. Granny.

“You’re still living with Yokoyama?” Hitoshi asks, fingering the little keychain he’d gotten from Kaminari at the school festival. It’s a hideous little cat but he supposes it’s the thought that counts.

You look up. “No. I have my own place now.”

Panic rises anew in his chest, bubbling in his stomach. You notice it immediately.

“You’re living with me now, Champ.”

“What about Yokoyama?”

“We renovated the house,” you explain. “She’s got an apartment downstairs for the smaller kids. You’re going to meet her too, don’t worry. But since she’s not getting any younger I’m taking the older kids from her hands.”

“How many?” He croaks out, thinking of the old house. Will he be sharing a bedroom again? He doesn’t really mind it that much, but he knows his sleep routine - or lack thereof.

“You’re the only one at the moment. Tomio and Chiharu left last month. If you get lonely you can help babysit the twins. Granny is going to love you forever.”

“No thanks.” You snicker at his quick answer before signing one last sheet.

“When can we get his stuff?” You ask Tanabe-san.

“I’ll have to make a call. Do you want to go right now or tomorrow?”

You turn to Hitoshi. He shrugs. “I don’t really care. I had all important stuff on me when I got picked up.”

He doesn’t know who alerted the cops this time. He’d been fine on his own, maybe a little hungry at the end of the month but who isn’t?

There’s a knock on the door. Tanabe-san gets up to check it and though all he can hear is the deep timbre of a male voice he’s heard that voice too often not to recognize it.

Aizawa-sensei is here.

Panic washes over him like a tidal wave.

It’s bad enough that he’s being dragged out of his mother’s place like a squatter, that they can’t find her - again - and that he’s probably going to have less than a year with you before he has to go back, no… They had to call in his teacher. The only person who still has somewhat of a shred of respect for him. Well, Kaminari still respects him, he thinks for a second, but that doesn’t count all that much in the long run.

“You okay?” Your hand curls around his, warm and safe and oh so familiar even after all those years.

“Yeah,” he lies and you squeeze his hand in retaliation.

“Liar,” you whisper and he grimaces. “I don’t… This sucks.”

“I know,” your thumb rubs over the back of his hand. Calm settles in his stomach first, then climbs up his arms and legs. He lifts his heavy head to stare at you.

“Stop using your Quirk on me,” he drawls out but you smile and cock your head as if you don’t know what he means.

“Hitoshi?” Tanabe-san asks from the door. “Aizawa-san would like to check in on you. Is that okay?”

He considers it for a second. He could say no. But that would be not only a shitty move but also… well, it’s just a shitty move.

Hitoshi blinks away the last remnants of panic and nods. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

It’s still a little jarring sometimes. The black patch where his eye should be, the hollow sound of his prosthetic hitting the floor.

Sensei looks at him first then over to you. You smile, warm and open, and stretch out your hand, introducing yourself.

“I’m basically Hitoshi’s big sister,” you explain. Aizawa-sensei takes your hand and shakes it and for a moment, barely long enough to catch it, something like a blush appears on his barely shaven cheeks.

It might have been the light tricking him, Hitoshi thinks, especially when it’s gone at a second glance.

“Nice to meet you. Hitoshi, can we have a word? Alone?”

I’d rather not, he wants to say, but while he’s allowed to be sassy during their one-on-one training, he’s never tried it outside of that before. He doubts it will do him good now.

So he gets up and follows him outside, his hand feeling weirdly cold and empty now that he’s let go of yours.

“If you need a place to stay,” Aizawa-sensei starts and Hitoshi stares at him, the rest of his words rushing over his head.

He could have stayed with him? He could have stayed with Sensei and Eri and their endless barrage of cats?

“I-” Hitoshi starts, unsure where he’s interrupting Aizawa-sensei just knowing that he is interrupting him. “I know her. She’s uh… I’ve been with her before.”

It would be amazing to be able to stay with Aizawa-sensei. But it’s practically impossible to hide it if he were to do that and even though he prides himself in not caring what others think of him, he can think of a million things he’d rather go through than have his friends and classmates know he has to live with their teacher… because his mother doesn’t want to accept that he’s still alive.

You’re young enough to pass as his big sister and he’s made it this far without inviting anyone over, so he might just be able to keep this thing a secret. Just until he’s old enough to live on his own.

“I’m fine,” he insists and though he can hear the lie in his words, Aizawa-sensei nods and lets it go.

“If you ever need anything,” he insists with a hand on Hitoshi’s shoulder, “don’t hesitate to call.”

- - -

The glowing red digits of his alarm clock read five minutes after midnight, but sleep won’t come.

The bedsheets smell different and he’s not yet familiar with the shadows crossing through the room or the flashes of color when the lights of a passing car hit the poster on the far end of the room.

Of course, someone hung up an All Might Poster. It’s always the same.

The floor creaks outside. A soft knock on the door.

“Hitoshi?”

He does not answer. You’re already doing a lot for him, he knows. You don’t need to worry about his sleeping habits too.

The door creaks open. He lies motionless and keeps his breathing even, hoping it will fool you.

There’s the softest sound, like footsteps, but not quite.

“I know you’re not asleep,” you whisper into the darkness. “Mildew wanted to check on you. If you don’t want to share a bed with her, just kick her out, okay?”

Mildew, as it turns out, is a fat white cat that jumps directly onto his bladder and starts purring the moment her paws start massaging his abdomen.

The door closes again and he stares at the cat who turns her face toward him, blinking up at him with only one eye.

Hitoshi’s not sure when, but he falls asleep to her purring and the rhythmic pressure of her feet treading on his belly.

“Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey,” you sing outside the door, knocking twice. “Bathroom is yours. What do you want for breakfast?”

“Coffee,” he groans, rubbing his sleepcrusted eyes.

“Food?”

“Just coffee.”

“Nuhuh, I’m not letting you off without either carbs or protein.”

He hesitates for a second. He hasn’t had breakfast in a while. “I’m having what you’re having.”

“Chocolate muffin it is.”

The house looks different in the morning light.

The main part downstairs is the open kitchen with a big table for eating and a Couch in front of the TV. There’s a toilet downstairs, a little office desk crammed into a corner and a pantry, but all the bedrooms are upstairs.

His coffee is strong and black, no sugar or milk, exactly the way he likes it.

The chocolate muffin is a little stale and he has to wash down each bite with a generous sip of coffee, looking around the room.

There are drawings pinned to the fridge as well as a battered calendar that has seen better days.

To his feet, Mildew and a thin ginger cat are fighting over their own breakfast.

“Rust,” you explain, pointing at the ginger who looks up at that. She’s missing an ear and her tail looks like it has been cut off, but she doesn’t seem to mind, pushing her lithe body against your legs as you walk past.

“I’m taking you to school today,” you announce, dropping the newspaper in the trash and picking a shopping list from the counter. “We’ll figure out what public transport is best later, okay?”

“You don’t have to-”

“Hitoshi,” you interrupt him softly, “I’m going to park further down the road and let you walk up, okay? No one’s going to see me.”

He stiffens. It’s not that he’s ashamed of you, but-

“It’s okay,” you pat his shoulder softly. “I’ve been there too. You’re having lunch at school, right? What do you want for Dinner? Something small, something big? You’re training, right?”

“I don’t eat Dinner, usually.”

“Well, that sucks, I was going to order Pizza.” You grab his jacket from the coat rack near the door and hold it out to him. “You don’t mind sharing with me, do you?”

He knows what you’re doing.

“I don’t have to eat Dinner.”

“No, you don’t.” You shrug a Flannel Jacket on and open the door, let Mildew and Rust get out first. “But I’m offering.”

The chocolate muffin and coffee combo is sloshing around uncomfortably in his stomach as he walks up to their classroom.

He usually likes homeroom, getting to see Aizawa first thing in the morning. It makes school a little more bearable.

Today though, he would very much like to skip it.

“Hey, Shinsou!” Kaminari catches up to him. “You missed something yesterday. That movie was so cool.”

“Tell me about it,” he prompts. Hitoshi had tried saving up for the tickets, but then he had to pay something in advance for the summer training camp and it just hadn’t been feasible anymore.

He knows Uraraka didn’t join them either. She’s tight on money as well, he’s noticed. The only person in class he feels comfortable talking about the hacks he’s learned over the years.

Speaking of Uraraka, she’s waving at them from the top of the stairs and Hitoshi waves back, his mind too occupied with the task of trying to follow Kaminari’s convoluted explanation to worry about anything else.

Aizawa-Sensei only nods in greeting when they enter and his panic subsides into a low hum of anxiety, something he’s familiar enough with to manage.

Everything’s fine until Lunch when Iida comes up with the idea to stay longer after class to prepare for an upcoming test.

Hitoshi knows he could use the help. He knows he’s not bad at all the General Stuff, but he’s sorely behind on the Theory of Heroics, and if Iida is volunteering to help-

“I’ll have to ask,” he says and about a dozen heads turn in his direction.

“Ask who?” Todoroki asks, apparently observant enough to notice Hitoshi never has said something similar before but not observant enough to keep quiet about it.

“My, uh, sister.” He can feel the panic rising again. His fingertips feel like they’ve turned into icicles. “My mom’s gone, so she’s in charge. We, err, wanted to get Pizza tonight.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister,” Midoriya points out with amazement while Iida just nods gravely. “It is important to uphold your commitments.”

Hitoshi grabs his phone before anyone can ask anything else and calls you.

“Nutcase Hospital, what can I do for you?”

“Very funny,” he quips back, aware of all the people around him. “Can I come home later today? We’re staying longer to prepare for a test.”

“Sure, how late? I can come and pick you up.”

“You don’t have to, I can take the train.”

“Text me when you get in. I’ll pick you up from the station. Rust likes to go on walks in the evening.”

“Sure she does,” he bites out, but there’s no venom behind it. He knows a white lie when he hears it.

“How do you think she’s staying in form?”

“You should take Mildew then, she can use the exercise.”

You laugh, but agree with him, telling him to stay safe before he has a chance to hang up.

“She sounds nice,” Jirou comments two seats down, as usual able to overhear what others don’t, and he doesn’t know what to say to that.

You are nice. At least that much is true.

Chapter 2 Chapter Text

Aizawa Sensei finds him right before Lunch break ends, his footsteps echoing weirdly through the wide hallways.

“Shinsou,” he addresses him politely like he always does in public. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Kaminari shoots him a look. It sounds like he’s in trouble but Hitoshi knows what this is about and he’d take detention over this kind of conversation any day.

“I don’t want to be late for cl-”

Aizawa lifts one scraggly eyebrow and Hitoshi closes his mouth. Right. “I’m coming.”

He turns to Kaminari who nods before he’s even opened his mouth.

“I’m gonna tell Present Mic you’re being held up.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” Kaminari moves as if trying to pat his shoulder but he seems to think better of it, leaving them alone.

Hitoshi follows Aizawa quietly, anxiety climbing up his legs like an army of ants.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust him, because he’s hardly trusted any adult more than he’s trusted Aizawa, but there are topics he just doesn’t want to talk about.

“Tea?” Aizawa asks as the door of his office closes behind them.

Hitoshi curls his nose and Aizawa laughs. “Coffee?”

“Sure,” he’s going to need caffeine if they’re going to study after class too.

Quiet settles around them. Aizawa moves slowly and sluggishly, but Hitoshi knows from their training sessions that he’s still very much agile if he wants to be.

“I’m fine, really,” Hitoshi points out when his teacher has his back toward him. It’s easier that way. “I’ve been through this before. It’s old news.”

“I heard about that,” Aizawa points out, turning with two cups of coffee, no sugar, no milk. “Sit down.”

If only he’d just drop it, Hitoshi thinks. It’s hard enough to be a part of this, this Elite School, of a Hero Course he often feels sorely underprepared for, of a friend group that seems to think that nosiness and loyalty go hand in hand.

“At what point would you’ve told me that you’re having problems at home?”

The question knocks the wind out of him.

Hitoshi had been prepared for a lot of stuff, but not for that.

“I don’t know what you-”

“Forging your mother's signature,” Aizawa counts down. “Living off a few dollars a week and the school provided Lunch. At what point would you’ve asked for help?”

Hitoshi stares down into the darkness in his cup.

He doesn’t know. He’s never been to the point where he had to ask for help. Somehow he always got reported before it could come to that.

“I understand that you know the person you’re living with now?”

“Yes,” Hitoshi nods, his head moving a little bit too quickly to be natural. “I’ve- We’ve- She’s-”

“Take a deep breath,” Aizawa’s voice is calm and deep. He doesn’t sound mad or disappointed or annoyed. It helps calm him a little.

“She used to live with us, too. She started out as a Foster Kid, but her parents never… turned around, as they call it.”

“But your mother did.”

“At least for show,” Hitoshi quips and regrets it immediately when Aizawa’s brows furrow. “Maybe she really tried to change,” he says, even though he’s never really believed it, not even at five years old. “But she always went back to the drugs.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

“I’m sorry you didn’t feel comfortable coming to me for help.”

“It’s okay,” Hitoshi rubs his thumb over the tabletop, over a scratch someone left there ages ago. “It’s better this way. I can pretend she’s my older sister and no one needs to know.”

Quiet settles again. This time it feels a little more uncomfortable.

“You don’t want anyone to know?” Aizawa asks.

Hitoshi nods, steels himself for the look he’s going to get, and raises his head.

Aizawa’s eye is dark and unreadable.

“My mother had to leave the country for a bit, so I’m with my sister at the moment. That’s the story if anyone asks.”

“Okay,” Aizawa downs his coffee and sighs. “We’ll talk more about this during our next training. This week, you’re excused.”

“But I-”

“You’re excused,” Aizawa repeats. “I want you to settle in with your sister first, do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Also, I think it would be good for you to talk to a counselor.”

Hitoshi groans. “Everything but that.”

“Fine,” Aizawa huffs out another sigh. “If you manage to talk to me about how you’re feeling you can skip the counselor.”

He considers it for a second. “The counselor isn’t allowed to talk about my stuff to anyone, right?”

“It’s strictly private,” Aizawa confirms.

Hitoshi nods. “Fine, I’ll do one hour per week.”

- - -

As it turns out, he forgot something in his brilliant master plan.

He’s not taking his usual train anymore.

Bye-bye letting Kaminari copy his notes in exchange for a few snacks or talking Midoriya into fact-checking their history homework.

“I moved in with my sister,” he tells his friends when they separate at the train station, “She lives a bit further away from my Mom’s old place.”

“How long is your Mom gone?” Kaminari asks, eyes wide. “That’s one hell of a business trip.”

“It is,” Hitoshi agrees, “But she’s going to get paid great for it, so it’s okay. Besides, my sister is really cool.”

“Awesome,” Kaminari grins. “Maybe we can do our game nights at your place then.”

“I’ll have to ask,” he answers, hoping you’ll say no. You have to say no.

“Got lost?” A smooth voice asks him as soon as he steps onto his new train. Tokoyami is just a few steps ahead of him, the other passengers giving him a wide berth.

“Monoma,” he turns to the blonde, “This is your line?”

“Yeah, what about it?” Monoma leans into him, grinning. “Don’t tell me you moved?”

“What if I did?”

Monoma shrugs. “Nothing. Just seems interesting, you moving in the middle of the school year. Are you going to stay on top of your class if you don’t have Midoriya to help you?”

“We just ride the train together, he’s not babysitting me.”

Monoma shrugs again. “Could have fooled me.”

Hitoshi grins. Monoma might be the born provocateur, but he has to wake up earlier to catch him with that.

“Anyways,” Monoma changes the topic swiftly as ever, “You’re coming Saturday, right? Joint training?”

“Course, why wouldn’t I?”

“Dunno, maybe we’ve scared you away last year.”

Last year. The war, those fights, they all feel so far away now, despite the panic attacks and the nightmares that still haunt him night and day.

“Please,” Hitoshi scoffs. “If anyone was scared it was you.”

The train rattles into another station and Hitoshi takes a step toward the door. “See you tomorrow, then.”

Monoma furrows his brows. “What? This is my stop too.”

Hitoshi stares at him, unblinking.

But it’s not a joke. Monoma gets out alongside him, follows him up the stairs and out onto the street.

You’re waiting at the corner, a beanie pulled over your hair, Flannel Shirt pulled around your chest. Rust is nowhere to be seen.

Hitoshi knows you’ve seen him, but he acts like he’s checking out the different buses that are waiting around.

“See you tomorrow, then.” He repeats again.

Monoma gives him a weird look but nods. When the other boy doesn’t move, Hitoshi walks toward the bus stops, aiming for the one right at the end. He only turns when he reaches it, relieved to find Monoma no longer watching him.

“How was school?” You ask when he walks up to you. You don’t mention his weird behavior and he’s grateful for it.

“Where’s Rust?” He asks back, sounding snappier than he means to.

You point at the shrubbery near the bike stands and whistle. A lithe, ginger body jumps out of the shadows and immediately begins attacking the shoelaces of Hitoshi’s right foot.

“You weren’t lying about her,” he concludes and you tap his forehead with two fingers in retaliation.

The walk home is quick and quiet. You let him breathe, only nudging him when you pass a Restaurant, the smell of cheese and Pepperoni making his mouth water.

“I’m going to get some,” you tell him. “What toppings do you want?”

He hesitates for a second before he tells you. You smile like he’s the one paying.

“By the way,” you comment an hour later, the last piece of Pizza in your hand. “I have an appointment at the hairdresser this Friday.”

“Okay?”

“I was thinking about going purple.”

Hitoshi turns, speechless.

You don’t catch his gaze, instead, you’re watching Mildew sniff the empty Pizzabox, clearly hoping to find something you’ve forgotten.

“Why would you-?” He stops. “You’re trying to match me?”

“Maybe,” you let your head roll from side to side. “Would you want that?”

“That’s stupid.”

“Why? I think purple would suit me.”

“We don’t look alike either way.”

You shrug before dropping the piece of pizza back on your plate. You turn toward him and he swallows anxiously.

“I know we haven’t had a lot of contact in the last few years, but I’ve always liked you, Hitoshi. If you feel better letting everyone think I’m your sister, I’ll happily play that part. I can be your half-sister or something.”

He plays with the string of his sweats, rubs it between his fingers.

“How much does that hair stuff cost?”

You laugh. “I make enough money, Bugger.”

“Sure,” he rubs his nose. “But still.”

“If anything,” you add, “it would help me. I have a date, Friday Night. He’s not bad, but he’s pretty boring. Me showing up with Purple Hair might just be the perfect Test.”

He furrows his brows. “You have a date?”

“Yeah,” you nod, nudge Mildew with your left foot. “Met him while shopping. Like I said, he’s not bad, but I have been trying to figure out how to tell him I’m not interested. If you don’t want me gone on Friday, I can say my kid needs me. He has no idea how old my kids are.”

Hitoshi tries to let it sink in, he really does.

But it’s so foreign, the idea of you, on a date with someone.

Have you ever had a boyfriend in the time he spent with you? He can’t remember.

“Hitoshi?” You ask, shuffling over. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re a dirty liar,” you tell him, close enough now that you could touch him, but you don’t. You let him come.

The urge to crawl into your arms is strong. Not too long ago he used to do that frequently.

But he grew up. Went to war. He’s different now. And he’s sure you are too.

“I think I’m going to bed,” he says and gets up from the Couch, almost trips over Mildew on the way to the kitchen. You don’t follow him, but he can feel your eyes on him.

“I think you should dye your hair,” he decides on the way up. “But it doesn’t have to be purple. It wouldn’t mix well with your Flannel Collection.”

You smile. “Words only a coward would use.”

- - -

“There’s no need to be afraid,” Yokoyama-san, tall and slender and smiling, tells him. She’s not afraid of talking to him like most people are. She holds his hand all the way up the stairs to her house, points at the windows and the little front porch.

“You’ll have quite a few siblings with me. Some younger, some older. But dontcha worry, they’re all nice. That’s what’s important to me. Being nice to each other.”

“Granny,” the door opens. You squat down on the first step to look him in the eye.

“Hey,” you grin. “You’re my new little brother, right?”

Hitoshi presses his lips together. He doesn’t want to talk to you. If he does, you’ll answer and when you’ll answer, he’ll get this weird feeling, and your eyes will turn empty and after that, everyone will be mad at him.

Your smile does not falter.

“Between me and you,” you tell him, whispering in his direction even though Yokoyama-san is right there, still smiling. “I’ve got the best bedroom. It’s because I’m scared of thunder and lightning. So if you feel like coming over, my door is always open, okay?”

He nods.

It takes him two weeks to come up with the courage to walk over, to knock on the door of your bedroom.

You didn’t lie. Your bedroom really is the best. You don’t have to share it, and even though it’s small, you’ve decorated it with all the cool things he wants to have when he’s older.

“You’re like me, right?” You ask him that day, the two of you sitting on your bed with your legs crossed. “You need some alone time in between. If you don’t mind me being around, you can always come in here for a breather. I don’t mind being quiet with you.”

- - -

You wake him up on Wednesday as well.

Hitoshi gets a Breakfast Muffin with his Coffee and although the ham is a little hard to chew, he could get used to eating something this early in the morning.

“Your hair is a mess,” you tell him as you feed the cats. “Have you met your brush today?”

“Harhar,” he fake laughs. “Brushes don’t work on my hair.”

“I could braid it,” you offer. “I bet that would look cool on you.”

“No thank you.”

It’s only when he has to leave, his backpack already by the door, that he hesitates.

You’re going to stay behind today. He can manage the short walk to the train station.

Still, it feels weird. How is he supposed to say goodbye to you?

“Do I get a hug?” You ask, putting your coffee down. “You can say no, but I’m an old woman now, I get to ask for hugs, right?”

He huffs. He’s wished for your Quirk countless times, that easy read you have on people. With your Quirk, he’d know if you really wanted a hug, or just pretended so he wouldn’t have to ask himself.

Still, he pretends to be grouchy about it, stomps over like the moody teenager he is, and hugs you, knowing full well you’ll have a complete map of all his feelings the moment you touch him.

It’s a blessing and a curse, really.

-x- You -x-

Your truck coughs as you start it, but it stutters to life.

It’s almost time for Hitoshi’s Lunchbreak by the time you reach his school, park a little away in case someone spots you.

You’d have preferred coming here after hours, but Principal Nezu had been very clear in his invitation.

Aizawa meets you at the front door, explaining something about security measures as he guides you toward a side door.

You can tell he’s interested in you. He’s good at hiding it, but it’s not subtle enough to go undetected by your Quirk. And he worries a great deal about Hitoshi.

You wonder how close these two are. Maybe he’d have preferred to have Hitoshi in his own care. You can’t fault him for that. Hitoshi’s a great kid.

“I hope we’re not cutting too much into your workday,” Aizawa comments on your right, the words slightly crunched up, as if he can’t be bothered to properly roll them out on his tongue.

“I work from home, I can pick up the slack later.”

“Interesting. What’s your profession?”

“I work in IT. I’m coding an online store at the moment.”

He nods but you suspect he has no idea what you’re talking about.

“So, you and Hitoshi,” you dare to ask as he guides you down a long hallway, his right leg clinking heavily against the floor. “You’re close?”

He hesitates, you can feel and see it at the same time.

“I don’t want to pry,” you admit, taking a figurative step back, “I just couldn’t help but notice.”

“And here I thought to ask you that same question.”

It’s on you to hesitate now. How much do you want to tell?

“We’ve got history,” you decide, “I’ve known him since he was four.”

Aizawa musters you for a while. It’s weird how he seems to be able to see more with one eye than others do with two. But he nods, gesturing at a door to your right.

“We’re here. Shall I let Shinsou know you’re here?”

You notice how he’s chosen to use his last name with you as if putting space where it wasn’t before.

“Only if you can get him on his own. I don’t want to put pressure on him at school. He prefers to keep this a secret at the moment.”

“And you’re playing along?”

You eye him for a second before answering. “My kids go through a lot. If taking a step back is what they need, it’s the least I can do.”

“Kids?” Aizawa asks. You shrug. “There are too many children in this world that do not have the kind of home they deserve.”

“How young-”

“Ah, you’re here!” Principal Nezu cuts off Aizawa’s next question with a flourish, inviting you inside. You don’t hesitate. Whatever he’d wanted to ask, you have a feeling you’re not ready for it yet. The urgency he felt, preparing for it. You think you can wait a little longer to hear it.

Chapter 3 Chapter Text

Part 3

“Any questions?” Nezu’s eyes are kind as he waits. He’s probably aware of what impact his speech had on you.

“Not right now.” Your mind is still reeling.

With your Quirk it’s dangerous to get lost in any emotion, so you take deep breaths and focus on staying calm, collected, at ease.

“Of course, take the time you need. Would you like some more tea?”

He types something on a keyboard. A few minutes later the door opens and a friendly voice cuts through the uncomfortable silence.

“Some tea for the ladyyy,” the last syllable is drawn out, the line almost sung and you turn in surprise at the good mood.

The newcomer is blond, his hair gelled up to defy gravity.

“Thank you, Yamada-san,” Nezu sends him a polite nod before turning toward you. “This is also one of Hitoshi’s teachers. He, and the others, will answer you any question you could have.”

“Questions?” Yamada asks, clearly curious. You put a smile on your face and face him fully.

“I’m Shinsou Hitoshi’s older sister. Our mother’s currently away for work, so I’ve taken up her duties and I have to say, I had no idea how much work went into becoming a hero.”

You hate lying to him. He’s got a friendly face and you’re sure Hitoshi likes him. Has to, really, with his leather jacket and everything.

“Sister?”

“Yes,” you nod. “What class do you teach? Aizawa-san walked me inside, I think he teaches homeroom?”

The pure mention of Aizawa’s name relaxes Yamada instantly. He wears his emotions in two layers, one very obviously on top to mask the one hiding underneath. Right now it’s curiosity and happiness that hide worry and suspicion.

“I teach English,” he shakes your hand with gusto. “And I must say, Shinsou really is a formidable student.”

“He knows his memes, you mean.”

“Ah,” Yamada laughs, feeling a little caught. “That too. I mean, can you blame him with that friend of his?”

You know it’s a test, but you haven’t gotten the time to discuss classmates and best friends yet with Hitoshi.

“Which one are you referring to? I can think of a few that would suit this description.”

“Really? I can only think of one.” His suspicion is growing stronger.

“Mhm, you see a different side of them all, I guess. Hitoshi’s not known for inviting kids over. But there’s one, gosh, I’m so bad with names,” you laugh awkwardly as you recall the boy Hitoshi had been talking to at the train station. “Blond hair? Yeah, he had blond hair. Very confident.”

“Huh,” Yamada moves back a step, suspicion leaving him. “Kaminari, right. We thought of the same boy, after all, it seems.”

“Oh, well, great minds think alike.”

- - -

“Why did Present Mic tell me he met you today?” Hitoshi asks the moment he walks in.

He’s not mad, but he’s guarded and there’s panic simmering underneath, as always.

You step back from the simmering Curry you’d been working on. It’s a touch too tomato-y, but it didn’t turn out bad.

“Because I did meet him today.”

“Where? And why?”

“I went to your school to meet with your Principal.”

“You didn’t tell me that!” Accusation. Betrayal.

“I know and I’m sorry. Will you let me explain what it was about?” He hesitates but then he nods.

“Please, sit.”

“I don’t want to.”

“But I do. Please.”

He pulls the chair back with more noise than necessary but sits, glaring at you from across the table.

“The task of training someone to become a Hero is dangerous.”

“I know that, I-”

“Hitoshi,” your voice is calm and collected. You try not to let your quirk flow into him, but it’s hard to know how much it influences him in such close proximity.

He stills. “Yes?”

“Let me explain, please. You can give me all your arguments when I’m finished.”

“Okay.”

You start again. “It’s a dangerous training. Kids who apply, no, the parents of kids who apply are either aware of this or are made aware of it as time goes on. The way I understand it there was quite a story about it in your first year. I wasn’t your guardian back then, so technically, I could pull you out of school now for the simple reason that I think this is too dangerous a job for you, but- let me finish, Hitoshi.” He sits back again and you continue. “But your Principal as well as your teachers believe in you. Nezu wanted to make sure that I would not pull you out of school. That I knew what potential you have. They are all having your back, against me too, if necessary.”

You can see him swallow, can feel his disbelief. The panic too, simmering on low heat, readying iself to strike if necessary.

“I said I wouldn’t mess with this dream of yours, not if literal Professionals believed in you. But in return I asked for them to keep your situation private. So far, only Nezu and Aizawa know about our relation. I’ve met Yamada and I think I’ve made him sufficiently believe in your story. I’m your older sister, our mother is on a business trip. I haven’t been around much, though, because I could not properly name your best friend.”

He’s quiet for a while, dissecting the news.

Hitoshi’s always been smart, crazily so. You thought - hoped, really - that he would one day step in your footsteps. Do someting techy. But he wants to become a hero, so a hero he’s going to be.

“My best friend is Kaminari,” he declares finally, with a low voice. It’s hard for him to admit to these things,because admiting to liking something makes the risk of losing it bigger. At least that’s what he’s learned to believe and you know, because you believed that too for a long time.

“Midoriya and I are close too. Most of Class 1-A is pretty cool. Monoma, that’s the, uh, guy I talked to at the train station on Tuesday, he’s from Class 1-B… He’s okay too. I think he’s going to join the same Agency as me this year, for the internship. We both work well with Aizawa.”

“Do you want to invite some of them over?”

“Hell no,” he scrunches up his nose and you laugh.

“Okay, okay, I was just asking.”

-x- Shinsou Hitoshi -x-

The Panic Attack hits him at night, just as he’s finally falling asleep.

It grabs him by the collar and chokes the air out of him until he’s seeing stars, cold sweat running down his back as he fights for his life.

Somewhere in the dark he hears hissing, an angry mewl and then silence but he cannot focus on it.

A door crashes into the wall and he flinches at the sound, slapping away the hand that grabs his shoulder

“It’s me! Hitoshi, it’s me!”

Calm washes over him like a tidal wave and he comes up, spluttering and gasping for air.

Your eyes are glowing purple in the darkness and he falls into you, sobbing.

“It’s me,” you whisper. “You’re safe, Hitoshi. You’re with me. Everything’s okay.”

But nothing’s okay and he can’t stop crying, sobbing like a little kid. If only you’d make it stop, use your Quirk again like you did with his panic attack, but you let him wipe his snot and tears and spit into your shirt, gasping and coughing until he’s finally calming down on his own.

Your hand is warm on his back and he rests like this, eyes closed, face smudged against your shoulder.

He really should sit up, he thinks, his brain too slow to fully act on the command. He’s old enough to sleep without someone holding him.

Just move, he tells himself. Arms back, shoulders up. You can slide under your covers, easy.

But his body won’t allow it, exhaustion pulling him down, down, down until-

“Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey.” You knock on his door, your steps moving further down the stairs.

His brain is slow to start, to register the sun rays falling through the window. All Might is smiling down at him from the poster on the wall.

He feels like he’s missing something, doesn’t really know what day it is until he picks up his phone.

It’s Thursday. He’s supposed to meet with the School Counselor today.

His clothes hang from a chair by the window. Did you come in and hang them up last night? Hitoshi can’t remember.

“Hey,” he greets you in the kitchen.

“Hey,” you smile back at him. “Coffee and a muffin? I made fresh ones today.”

“Sure.”

The muffin’s a bit too salty, but he’s not complaining, the food fueling his brain little by little.

“Did you come into my room last night?”

“Hmm?” You look up from the fresh sheet of Muffin’s you’re preparing. “What did you say?”

“Nothing,” he mutters around the next bite.

Did he dream it, maybe? It could have been a dream. It wouldn’t be the first time he dreamt of someone sitting by his bedside until he fell asleep and he’s had his fair share of nightmares as well as panic attacks. Did he have a panic attack? Or was it a nightmare about a panic attack?

Wait, if he asks you about it, he’ll have to admit he’s had a panic attack. If you knew he had a panic attack, you’d be a lot less calm about it, for sure. So you don’t know he had one.

“You okay there?” You ask, closing the oven door. “Your emotions are all over the place.”

“Just thinking,” he rushes out. “I, uh, I’m meeting my Counselor today.”

“Oh,” you nod. “That’s today. Nervous?”

“A little.” That’s a lie and your raised eyebrows call him out immediately. “Yeah.”

“You’ve been to a Counselor before?”

“Sure,” he shrugs, “Everytime I switched families. But they didn’t do much when I was four, or nine and at eleven I just didn’t talk to them anymore until they gave up.”

“Oh, the old ‘I’m not talking to you technique’,” you laugh. “I remember that well.”

“Why?” There’s something in your voice that’s new. You’re not talking about him or any of the kids right now.

“I wasn’t the biggest fan of Counselors myself,” you admit. “I can read my own emotions and that of people around me, I know when someone’s not honest with me. But I met a good one in High School. She honestly changed my life.”

“You’re not telling me-”

“No, Hitoshi,” you grin. “I’m not telling you that this Counselor will change your life. He or she might, but it’s not a given. Doesn’t hurt to talk to them though. You might learn something about yourself.”

Hitoshi groans. “I think I know myself well enough.”

“Whatever you say big guy. Hug?”

He leans into your open arms, lets his head settle on your shoulder for just a second. It feels familiar and addicting in a way he can’t quite place and he has to force himself to pull away, still a little slow.

“I’ll pick you up today, okay?” You ask, your voice a little softer now and he nods, rubbing his eyes that seem to be kinda sensitive today. Maybe he’s allergic to something?

- - -

When the door of the Counselor’s office opens, he comes face to face with Shouto Todoroki.

Panic floods Hitoshi like a tidal wave, but it’s too late to hide and he can’t very well brainwash him in front of the Counselor.

Todoroki nods curtly and steps to the side and there, in that brief second his brain lets him have to breathe and think, he can see that Todoroki has cried.

That’s right, he realizes belatedly, the thought seeping through the panic. Todoroki isn’t here to wait for him, to make fun of him, or something like that. Todoroki’s here because he’s got his own problems to deal with. Surely he’s ashamed of it just as much. He won’t talk to anyone about it.

He needs some time to calm down after that though and the Counselor, a fresh-faced guy that teaches Ethics class, allows him to settle, only offers him a tray with fidget toys once.

“We’re not going to talk much today. Let’s just get to know each other. I’m Tachibana Makoto, you know me from Ethics Class. Is there anything you want to know about me?”

“I-” Hitoshi glares at the floor. He needs a question, anything will do. “Do you have cats?”

Makoto’s voice sounds like he’s smiling, but Hitoshi’s not willing to look up. “I do. Two of them. Do you like cats?”

Hitoshi nods.

“Do you have cats of your own?”

“Yes,” he swallows a mouthful of saliva. “We have two as well. Mildew and Rust.”

We. He said we. The feeling that rolls over him like a steamroller is heavy and unfamiliar. It’s not shame, because he knows shame. God, he wants to be home right now, hiding in his bed, Mildew purring on his stomach. If only he could be home right now.

“Those are interesting names. Can you tell me a bit about them?”

So he does. He’s only spent three days with them so far, but it’s not that hard to pick them apart. Mildew is fat and easily motivated by everything food. She loves to snuggle and her favorite place to nap is right above a full bladder.

Rust on the other hand feels like a mafia boss incarnated. She’s paranoid and ready to defend them against any danger, may it be rogue shoelaces or the shadows falling in through the window.

Makoto laughs at all the right places, asks to see a picture and coo’s at their sight.

“I’m not a cat expert, but it feels like you’ve characterized them well,” he offers a compliment. “Do the cats have their favorites?”

It’s a subtle nudge to get him to talk about the human beings in the house, Hitoshi knows that. He’s been through this before, he knows when to keep his mouth shut.

But, he thinks, if he’s being stubborn now, Tachibana-san will get Aizawa here and then he’ll have to sit, week after week, hour after hour, with Aizawa instead and he’s even less ready to face that.

“It’s just me and my sister,” he says. “Of course, she’s their favorite, she buys all the cat food.”

“But Mildew sleeps in your bed?”

Hitoshi blinks. Right. “Sure, but- it’s just at night.”

“Well, you’re not home as much. It would be interesting to see if Mildew still picks you over your sister if you’re both at home the whole day, maybe on the weekend. I see though that our time is up. Why don’t we talk about this next week?”

Their goodbyes are short. Hitoshi moves toward the door, relieved that it’s finally over.

The door leads right into the waiting area where only one chair is occupied.

Todoroki looks up at him, waiting.

The panic is back again.

Todoroki gets up and walks over, closing the door behind Hitoshi when Hitoshi doesn’t move.

“Midoriya comes here on Friday,” Todoroki explains, his voice even. “And Bakugo’s appointment is always on Wednesday because he has physical therapy too that day.”

“Bakugo?”

“Bakugo,” Todoroki nods. “I can change my time to Tuesday if you want.”

Hitoshi blinks at him.

“Why would you change it?”

Todoroki shrugs. “So you can have it.”

“I can go after you.”

“Okay.”

Hitoshi blows air through his nose. “Just don’t… don’t tell anyone I’m coming here.”

“Okay.”

Hitoshi groans and moves toward the hallway. “Whatever, I need to get going.”

Todoroki follows him out, not once walking slower or faster, or trying to start another conversation. At least until they’re out and your truck winks back at him from the side of the street.

“Is that your sister?” Todoroki asks, clearly curious.

“Yeah,” Hitoshi grumbles.

“Cool.”

“Don’t you have to get home?”

“Not on Thursdays,” Todoroki admits openly. “My parents have therapy on Thursday, so I’d just be home alone.”

“Oh.”

“Hey,” you get out of the truck when he stops in front of it. “How was school?”

There’s a question in your eyes. He nods to signal he’s okay.

“This is Todoroki. Shouto Todoroki. He’s in class with me.”

“Hi,” Todoroki shakes your hand. “You’re his sister, right? You’re a lot older than him.”

“I am,” you smile. “You have a good eye for that. Do you need a ride to the train station or something?”

Hitoshi wiggles his right leg. If they take him to the train station, he’s going to drive home and sit around alone in that big, stupid house of his.

He doesn’t know much about Todoroki’s family only that it’s not the easiest. His dad apparently really turned it around, but it’s never easy after that, just month after month of uncomfortable silence as you try to find common ground, unlearn all the shit you learned over the years.

“He can come over, right?” Hitoshi hears himself asking. “I think he’d like Mildew.”

Your eyes are big as you turn to him, but you nod. You must sense that he’s serious about it.

The whole way home Hitoshi questions himself.

Why is he doing this? How stupid is this idea?

But he thinks of Bakugo - Bakugo - who does counseling like it’s nothing and grits his teeth. If Bakugo can grow, he can do this, easy.

“You’re so fluffy,” Todoroki whispers at Mildew who’s purring like a machine gun and blinking up at him like she’s fallen in love. She probably has. He hasn’t let her go once. He hasn’t been to the toilet either, so that might turn interesting soon.

“Help me in the kitchen?” You ask Hitoshi after depositing Todoroki in the living room with Mildew, pulling him to the farthest end of the large room to have at least a little privacy.

“Hitoshi?”

“Hm?”

“Hug?”

He sinks into it because it’s easier than explaining everything. You smell like soap and tomatoes, a weird mix he finds he kind of likes. His skin tickles and he wonders if it’s a byproduct of you using your quirk.

“When do I drive him home?” You ask.

Hitoshi sighs. “After Dinner maybe? I don’t know.”

You nod. “Okay. Do you have any homework left to do? Or do you want to play-”

“We’re seventeen.”

You laugh. “Sorry, I got ahead of myself. I’m going to make dinner. Call me if you need anything.”

“Yeah, sure,” he moves to leave but turns back around when you call out his name again, so soft and warm his spine tingles.

“I’m really proud of you, Hitoshi. You know that, right?”

“Mhm,” he pulls his shoulders to his ears and marches away.

Chapter 4 Chapter Text

-x- You -x-

“I leave around six,” you tell him Friday over breakfast, watch as the coffee slowly works its way through his system. “So if you’re home before that, we can have Dinner together. Yokoyama’s home if you need anything.”

Hitoshi nods. He looks like he hasn’t slept properly - again.

“Do you have anything planned for the weekend?”

“Sleep,” he grouses. “Learn.”

“Okay,” you nod. “Let me know if anything changes.”

He’s still mostly on autopilot by the time he has to leave, his hug mechanical more than anything. His emotions are all over the place, anxiety simmering on low heat.

“So, what are we thinking?”

You look at yourself in the mirror. It’s been ages since you’ve seen a proper hairdresser. The times of box dies lie behind you too, you’re just too lazy for that now.

Are you really going to do it, though? Dye your hair purple just to look more like Hitoshi?

You picture yourself with his hair. It wouldn’t look too awful, you think, but that’s only an assumption at the moment.

Todoroki has seen you already. You doubt he cared about it.

But still… You shake the uncertainty still plaguing you and focus on calmness to let it wash over you.

“Purple,” you say. “I want to go purple. And I have a picture of the exact shade I want.”

There’s a guy walking up to your house when you return, the blond hair and the sharp features somewhat familiar, even if you can’t properly place them.

“Can I help you?” You ask, settling the weight of your groceries on your other hip.

“Takami Keigo,” he offers you his hand to shake while taking your bag of groceries with the other, ”Formerly Pro Hero Hawks. I’m from the Hero Public Safety Commission, short HPSC. Do you have a moment?”

His emotions are heavily guarded, though you can notice some amusement coming off him. About what though, you don’t know.

“What’s it about?” You ask, pulling out your keys.

“We have some questions regarding your foster children.”

You bite back a sigh and lead him in. “Is this about Shinsou Hitoshi?”

“Yes and No. Did you dye your hair? It suits you.”

“Thank you,” you mumble and fight the feelings of self-consciousness that wash over you before they can reach him too. They might do him good though, you can’t help but think. Takami-san definitely knows that he’s attractive.

He takes a seat at the kitchen table as if he owns it, watches you with Hawk's eyes as you put the groceries away and prepare coffee, find an open package of chocolate chip cookies and plate them.

He’s making you nervous, and you don’t know why.

You’ve had surprise visits before, people checking in on you and your foster kids. But this feels different.

“How many rooms do you have?” Takami-san looks around as if they could appear in front of his eye any second.

“I have room for four children if that’s what you’re asking.”

“And how big are those rooms?”

You sigh. “I’ll show you.”

He follows you up the stairs. You can feel his eyes on your ass and where you might have been flattered in any other situation, this feels calculated.

It feels wrong to show him Hitoshi’s room, especially considering the weird interest Takami-san is showing in him.

The bed isn’t made and some of his dirty clothes are thrown onto the other bed in the room. You move to pick them up and put them in the wash, your skin prickling when you do so.

“Boys, right?” Takami-san asks with a grin. “They never clean up after themselves.”

“Everyone’s different,” you tell him. “Hitoshi had counseling yesterday. I can hardly fault him for being a little chaotic after that.”

He spares the other bedroom a longer glance, even checks the sight from the windows.

“You can see the park from here,” he points out a little sliver of green between the rows of houses.

“Yes,” you agree, smoothing down a poster on the wall next to it. You don’t remember which kid had picked it out, but Laundry Hero: Wash is crinkling at the edges.

“And this is your room?” Takami-san points at the last door on this level.

“It is,” you move toward the stairs, hoping he’ll get the sign of dropping it.

“It’s not that big,” he says though, staying where he is. “I’m guessing,” he explains. “From the size of the house, is all.”

“I don’t need a big room,” you point out. “This is my house.”

“Sure, but where do you go when you need a moment to yourself?”

“This is my house,” you point out again. “Coffee?”

Tension crackles between you as you walk down the stairs behind him. You know he’s not going to drop this so soon. Surprisingly though, he does.

He checks out your desk in the corner of the living room, comments on your work and the quality of your cookies - they’re stale but you wouldn’t know from the way he praises them - until you cannot take it any longer.

“Why are you here?”

Takami-san quiets. His smile isn’t friendly.

“Brainwashing is considered a dangerous quirk,” he points out. “We at the HPSC want to make sure he is well cared for.”

It’s party a lie, though you’re not sure what part of it.

“Continue.”

“I am merely here as an observer. As long Shinsou is well cared for I have nothing more to ask.”

“That’s a lie,” you point out, relieved to finally getting a read on him. “You cannot lie to me, you know that.”

He hesitates. You got him there.

“Well, Shinsou-”

Again. You lean forward this time. “It’s not about Shinsou, is it?”

Quiet settles over you as he considers his next move.

“I am not authorized to give you more information.”

“Which means I’m not willing to give you any more of my time.”

Takami-san pouts. It emphasizes his best features and you don’t doubt he knows it. “I still have a few more questions.”

“Which you will have to ask someone else,” you tell him with a fake smile. “I’ll show you the door.”

-x- Shinsou-x-

He’s not quite sure, but he thinks he might have pulled a muscle.

His back hurts like it never has before, but he can still move pretty okay, and if he wants to see Recovery Girl he has to walk all the way through the school building to her office.

It sounds like a way better plan just to stumble home and take a nap, so that’s what he will do.

“What truck ran you over?” Monoma asks, walking up to him at the train station.

Hitoshi turns his head left and then right, hoping it will alleviate some of the pain. “Ojiro,” he grunts. “I got pounded into the floor.”

Monoma grins and Hitoshi snorts. “Not like that, you ass.”

“No, no, continue,” the blond sings. “I like hearing about your failures.”

But Hitoshi’s not willing to tell and so they stand there in silence until the train arrives.

Tokoyami nods at him as he slips past them, finding a nook all to himself as per usual.

“Your internship,” Monoma eventually speaks up, “You’re at the Erasure Agency too, right?”

Hitoshi pushes himself up. “Yeah,” he nods, consider it. “You too then?”

“Yeah.”

Neither of them points out the obvious. It won’t be the same without Aizawa there. Sure, he might still coach them, but they won’t be working as his sidekicks.

“You think Present Mic-” Monoma starts and Hitoshi snorts.

“What?”

“Nothing, I’m just imagining you as his sidekick. You’ve got blond hair, you could pull it off.”

Monoma stares at him with wide eyes before laughing as well, no doubt picturing his own hair slicked back into the banana style of their English teacher.

“I could pull it off,” Monoma agrees with a grin. “I could make it fashionable.”

“Sure, sure.”

“You’re one to talk, Mr. Eraser Head knock off.”

“Hey, don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”

Their banter feels easier after that, maybe because they both know they’re only scratching the surface. It’s been months since they’ve fought side by side and even though Hitoshi still dreams about it, he has no desire whatsoever to talk about it.

You’re not home when he gets there, courtesy of staying behind a little longer for another training session with Ojiro. A note on the fridge tells him to go see Yokoyama-san if he needs anything and that there’s Curry for Dinner.

He’s only a little hungry and a lot more in pain, so he raids the bathroom cabinet for any painkillers. The ones he finds are meant for children so he swallows two before slipping into bed with a hot water bottle pressed to his back. He’s out in a matter of minutes.

The alarm clock on his nightstand reads midnight by the time he wakes up, his stomach growling. He sneaks down into the kitchen and eats the curry straight from the fridge, not willing to risk waking you up. His back still hurts, but he finds an ice pack in the fridge that gives him at least a little relief, so he takes that back upstairs only to hear the front door open right as he slips back into his room.

“Hitoshi?” You ask and he knows he can’t fool you.

“Needed something to drink,” he mumbles quietly. “I’m going back to bed.”

“Oh, okay. Sleep well.”

“You too.”

Your feet stop right in front of his door fifteen minutes later but you don’t come inside.

He only falls asleep around two in the morning after he sneaks another painkiller from the bathroom, his dreams weird and hazy but at least there are no nightmares.

-x- You -x-

The black dress has grown tighter around your midriff, a clear sign you should start going back to the gym instead of increasing your chocolate intake, at least if you want to keep it in your wardrobe rotation a little longer.

You’ve been told before that it looks good on you but in combination with the purple hair - still blown out to perfection - you feel like a Vixen.

“Oh, wow!”

You swallow down your embarrassment and smile back at Haruichi who’s come to the door to pick you up like a gentleman. You don’t normally tell your dates where you live but he already knew and his place is just down the road, so meeting at the restaurant would have been kind of silly.

“Thanks, you, uh, look good too.”

It’s not a complete lie. Haruichi is not unattractive. But ever since he brought you home after your first date and Tomio called him “the guy with the square head” you cannot unsee it.

But thinking of Tomio just makes you sad, so you try to shake that off and hook your arm through Haruichi’s as you let him walk you down to the car.

“What’s up with your hair?”

“It’s a long story, but it’s supposed to help my newest kid transition. He’s always had a hard time finding himself in a new place.”

“You’ve known him for a long time?” Haruichi’s surprised and you can’t blame him. Hitoshi’s case is only typical to those who work in the system.

“Yes,” you slip into the passenger seat when he opens the door for you. “But what about you? How was your week?”

And that’s one of the things you dislike most about him. How he goes off about himself the moment you let him steer the conversation.

Today, though, you welcome it. At least then he’s not asking you questions you don’t feel ready to answer.

He wears his feelings openly too. The attraction he feels for you mixed with the flickering of annoyance at your new hair color - so he doesn’t like it. You figured. Smugness waves off him in heavy clouds as he retells you a story from his workplace. You listen with half an ear, the rest of your mind thinking of Hitoshi.

Is he worried about your date? Is he staying away because of that, or did he just have another long day at school?

You notice him as you enter the restaurant, the straight back and the unruly golden hair.

But even though you focus on his emotions, you cannot tell if Takami-san is here by accident or if he’s been following you. When you pass him on your way to the table, he doesn’t even try to catch your gaze.

“Are you feeling alright?” Haruichi asks over the main course. “You’ve been looking over my shoulder quite a few times.”

“I’m sorry. I thought I recognized someone sitting by the window, but I wasn’t sure. It doesn’t matter anyway. What were you saying?”

The conversation drags on after that. Haruichi has never been the best conversationalist, but today you’re not even in the mood to make it easy for him.

“Do you really want to order dessert?” He asks when you ask for the menu.

You bite back a sigh. “Yes, Haruichi, I do.”

“How about we order the dessert to go and eat it at my place?” He smiles in a way you’re sure he thinks is attractive, though it does nothing for you.

“Actually, I think I’d prefer if we could go separate ways after this.”

Realization washes over him like a tidal wave. He’s stiff for a second, before he nods. “Well, in that case I’d rather leave right away.”

“I’m sorry-”

“You should be.” He’s polite as he asks for the bill, taking care of your portion of Dinner as well. Driving home with him suddenly feels more like you can manage.

“I’ll stay back,” you tell him quietly as you grab your coats. “I can take a Taxi.”

“Nonsense, I can drive you.”

You touch his wrist gently, just enough to transmit an emotion. “I’ll stay back. Have a good night, Haruichi.”

“Very well.” He leaves without another look back.

“Going home so early?” Another voice asks behind you, Haruichi not yet out of sight. You don’t have to turn to know who it is.

“Takami-san.”

“Haven’t I offered you my first name yet?” He’s grinning as you turn toward him. “Please, call me Keigo. Can I buy you a drink? Dessert?”

You weigh your options as well as his emotions. He’s not wearing them openly, though you can feel nothing dangerous coming off him.

“Dessert would be nice,” you tell him, following him to the table by the window he’d been occupying by himself. “Do you often go on dates by yourself?”

“I do, actually.” He takes a sip of his wine. “It’s very relaxing. You should try it sometime.”

“It’s not the most feasible with kids at home.”

“But you could go out tonight?”

You hesitate for a second, though there’s no malice in his words. “I could, yes. My mother lives in the downstairs apartment and has an eye on everything.”

“She was your foster mother, right?”

“Right.” You smile. “You’ve done your homework.”

“I did. Your Quirk is Emotional Manipulation. How often do you use it when you’re not busy scaring off bad dates?”

You tense. “I wasn’t-”

“You weren’t?”

The server arrives with the dessert menu before you have a chance to answer. You take the time to breathe deeply and sort your feelings out as you flip through the menu. Takami-san, or rather, Keigo, is watching you.

You close the menu and put it down in front of you before focusing back on him.

“You want something from me,” you point out what’s resting just below the surface. “I can feel it.”

“Really?” He smiles, head resting in one hand. “And what do I want?”

“I’m asking you.”

“Take a guess.”

You narrow your eyes. “I’m not in the mood for your games, Keigo.”

His smile widens at your use of his first name. “What a shame. I am though. Whatever shall we do now?”

You lean in, your body tense. “If you want information you better give some in return.”

The teasing laughter in his eyes dies down until he regards you cooly.

“Order your dessert,” he prompts, nodding in the direction of the waiter appearing. “I’ll tell you later with fewer ears around.”

Chapter 5 Chapter Text

You narrow your eyes. “I’m not in the mood for your games, Keigo.”

His smile widens at your use of his first name. “What a shame. I am though. Whatever shall we do now?”

You lean in, your body tense. “If you want information you better give some in return.”

The teasing laughter in his eyes dies down until he regards you cooly.

“Order your dessert,” he prompts, nodding in the direction of the waiter appearing. “I’ll tell you later with less ears around.”

Less ears, you find, means a Nightclub on the edge of the city center, the music pumping loudly around you.

You feel a little too old to be here, with everyone around you barely making it past twenty, but Keigo pushes through the crowd like he’s a regular, one arm around your waist so he doesn’t lose you.

“Here,” he opens a velvet covered door to a cubicle overlooking the dancefloor. It’s a lot quieter inside, almost intimate with the dimmed lights and the mountain of plush pillows on every surface. “I’ll get us something to drink. What do you want?”

“Sparkling water or a soda is enough.”

His grin is teasing as he leaves and you use the break to center yourself, to blend out all the bubbling emotions around you.

“Here,” he pushes a bottle of sparkling water into your hands. His own emotions are more pronounced now, his excitement almost palpable. “Now, ask me whatever you want to know.”

“Why are you being so persistent?”

“Oh,” his smile flickers into something smaller, though no less teasing, “Isn’t that kinda boring?”

“Not to me,” you insist. “So?”

He sighs, leaning back. “Say, hypothetically, there’s a kid with a dangerous quirk, no living relatives. What happens to that kid?”

“It goes into the Foster System.”

“True. What else?”

You hesitate. “Depending on the family the kid enters, he or she could be met with either love and understanding which in turn helps them to handle their quirk, or…”

“Or?”

“Or they’ll be met with disdain, hate and abuse. Which in turn creates a victim first and a villain second.”

Keigo nods slowly. “Say, hypothetically again, I am given the responsibility of this kid. He’s three years old, no living relatives. What am I supposed to do?”

You’re quiet for a second, taking it in. The truth is right in front of you, if you dare to grasp it.

“You’re looking for the right foster family.”

He nods again, though smiling now. “Hypothetically.”

“What kind of Quirk are we talking?”

“That’s classified.”

You sigh. “Character?”

“Classified.”

You scoff. “If you want me as your foster parent, you’ll have to give me more information. I’m not jeopardizing Hitoshi by taking in someone else.”

Surprise flickers over Keigo’s face but he gathers himself quickly. “I thought you wanted the best for the children?”

“I do. But I wouldn’t be a good mother if I kept overlooking the needs of my children for every other child out there. The children under my care are always going to be my top priority.”

“That’s a lie,” Keigo points out softly. “Because you’ve always kept one bed empty on purpose.”

You feel your blood drain from your face, the sensation leaving the room spinning. It’s not him knowing that surprises you this much. It’s that he connected the dots so easily.

“Shinsou Hitoshi has always been your top priority. Care to explain that?”

“Are you coming or not?” Momoko asks, getting dressed with her back to the camera. Kaori’s doing her make-up as you gather your thoughts and you wonder, not for the first time, why you always end up video-chatting.

“I don’t know,” you answer truthfully. Going out would do you good, you know, but crowds are difficult with your Quirk, not to mention that clubs aren’t exactly known for a calm atmosphere. It doesn’t help that you always feel out of place there too, older than everyone around you despite being the same age.

It’s the same way at school too. Everyone’s got a goal they’re working too, but you don’t. You’re lost in a sea of people aiming for the top and you’ve yet to find the words to explain it to your best friends.

“Oh come on,” Kaori whines but you mute her when you hear a knock at the door.

The presence on the other side is anxious, the flickering of emotion telling you that it’s one of the children. One breathe in, one breath out, you focus. It’s Hitoshi.

“Come in,” you call out and the door opens to his round face blinking up at you.

“Hey,” you smile. “Need something?”

He hesitates. You pat the space in your bed next to you. “Hop in.”

Wordlessly he shuffles over, climbing into bed with you. Now that he’s close you can tell he’s got a book in his hands.

“You’re reading that?”

Hitoshi shakes his head, offering it to you.

“You want me to read it for you?”

He nods and you take it from him, flipping through the pages. There aren’t that many pictures but the title alone tells you that it’s about a little cat boy living with his friends in the forest. Hitoshi clearly likes cats.

“That’s a really cool book,” you tell him softly, smiling when he blushes.

You turn toward your propped up phone and wave at your friends. “Hey, have fun tonight. I’m staying in. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Kaori pouts and Momoko readies herself to say something but you disconnect the call before she gets a chance to, sinking into your pillows to be a little closer to Hitoshi instead.

“Do you know how to read?” You ask him and he nods. “Already? Wow. You’re starting early. Do you wanna read the first sentence of each chapter? Just so we can do this together?”

Hitoshi shakes his head, panic bubbling inside of him.

“Is it because of your Quirk?”

He nods, his bright purple hair falling into his eyes. Careful you brush it out of his face.

“Quirks like ours aren’t easy, I know. But we can get them under control if we practice. We don’t have to do it tonight though, if you don’t want to. Just a little each day, right? It would be a shame if you had to stop talking because of your Quirk though. I really like your voice.”

“Really?” Hitoshi asks, pressing his hands on his mouth immediately afterward.

“Really,” you confirm, waiting for his hold on you to wash over you. He looks concerned but you smile back at him. “All good. Now, do you wanna read the first sentence or not? It’s your decision.”

…

It’s dark out by the time Hitoshi falls asleep, one arm curled around yours as if to keep you from leaving. You think about carrying him downstairs into his own room but decide against it, tucking him into your bed instead.

Tomorrow, you’ll research some more about voice-based Quirks.

Keigo’s eyes are unreadable as you finish.

“You claim you’re close, yet everytime he came back into your care he had to be taken out of his mother’s care against his will.”

You flinch at his insinuation.

“Hitoshi is… conflicted. It’s not unusual for children in his, or similar circumstances to feel responsible for what is happening. To feel like they’ve failed. He’s very proud.”

“How do you deal with that, then?”

This question is voiced softer and you’re surprised by the gentle curiosity he immediately tucks away under a mask of nonchalance.

“I don’t step up as their mother,” you tell him, twisting the cap of your sparkling water before taking a sip. “I’m always the big sister. The kids that come into my care have learned not to trust grown ups, parents, the like. I’m neither of that. I’m just the big sister that’s taking care of them. It has helped immensely with their transition.”

“Interesting.” Keigo rubs his chin. He sighs. “I’ll keep in touch.”

The sudden shift in his character is surprising, but you get up as well, taking this as your turn to be dismissed.

Outside, he calls a Taxi but doesn’t get in, just hands a couple of bills to the driver and squeezes your right hand with an unreadable expression, too many emotions flickering through him to catch just one.

“Till next time.”

-x- Shinsou Hitoshi -x-

Sunlight filters slowly through his sleep-riddled brain. When he wakes, he does so painfully slow, stumbling out of bed and into the bathroom on autopilot, hitting his shin on the bedside table and his arm on the doorframe.

His back still hurts and he swallows another painkiller with a handful of bathroom water, washing his face in the hopes of waking up a little more.

He forgot to brush his teeth yesterday and his mouth feels fuzzy, though all of that is forgotten when he pulls his phone from the loading dock to swipe through his messages.

Right on the top is one from Monoma, the letters bold.

Monoma: Where are you? Did you take an earlier train?

Shinsou: What do you mean?

Monoma: Joint practice starts in twenty minutes, idiot!

Panic shoots through him like Denki’s lightning. He stumbles out of the room and back in again, grabbing a pair of socks and a clean shirt to change into on the way down the stairs.

He calls your name, out of breath, and finds you in the kitchen, your face anxious.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“Your hair!” Hitoshi almost forgets the joint practice over the vibrant purple of it, your hair the exact same color as his. He shakes his head. “No time for that. We need to leave.”

“Where?”

“I overslept. I need to be at school in twenty minutes. Please?!”

You open your mouth to say something before shaking your head yourself, grabbing something from the kitchen counter and your keys from the wall. “Let’s go!”

It’s only in the car that he realizes you’re still in your sleepwear, a white tanktop over worn-out sweats. It feels strange to see you without a flannel on.

“Eat your breakfast,” you tell him when you notice him staring. “If we only get twenty minutes you should at least do something about your energy levels.”

“Right,” he takes another bite of the muffin you grabbed him on the way out. It’s chocolate flavored with a gooey center and though it feels wrong to think it, the quallity tells him that you didn’t make it yourself.

“Mom made them,” you explain, seemingly reading this thoughts. “Left them on our doorstep this morning. Said she didn’t hear you come home last night.”

“I was home at seven,” he recalls with his mouth full. “Went to bed right away. I was done.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, we did extra training.” He crumbles up the wrapper. “How was your date?”

“I told him I wasn’t interested.”

“And yet you came home around midnight.”

Your eyes flicker over to him as you stop at a crossroads. “Were you worried?”

“No,” he crosses his arms in front of his chest but that puts a strain on his still sore back. “It was just an observation.”

“I met someone I knew at the restaurant and we kept talking.” When you quiet after that sentence it feels a little forced and you break the silence quickly. “He’s from the HPSC.”

“Okay?”

Quiet settles. You drive faster than you normally do so your silence could also stem from you focusing on the road, but he thinks there’s more hiding.

“He’s looking for a foster family for someone. Dangerous Quirk. He needs to make sure the family will be the right fit.” You add suddenly.

Hitoshi swallows thickly. “And does he think you would be?”

“I don’t know.” You take a right and look at him as you gaze over your shoulder for any one trying to pass you. “But he seemed very interested in how the two of us are connected. I told him I wouldn’t take on anybody new if it jeoparized you.”

Hitoshi opens his mouth to answer, though he’s not yet sure what he would say. Your words are sincere and he knows he can trust you, but he doesn’t have the brainpower to process them right now.

You turn the car up the road leading to the school and he realizes a moment too late that he should have asked you to drop him off further down.

Class 1-A and Class 1-B are assembled right at the gates, staring right at him as you stop in the parking lot a few feet away. Aizawa-Sensei looks as unimpressed as ever, but Vlad King’s jaw is grinding, no doubt with anger at his lateness.

“Don’t get out of the car,” he hisses and slips out of his seat, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Sorry,” he calls out. “I overslept.”

“One minute later and we would have left without you,” Aizawa-sensei points out calmly. “Do you have your costume?”

“I have it,” Denki calls out, pushing to the front with the suitcase containing Hitoshi’s costume. “Dude,” he whispers when Hitoshi reaches him. “Is that your sister? She’s hot.”

“Ew,” Hitoshi comments just as he hears the truck stuttering behind him. But instead of roaring to live eventually it just coughs twice and quiets again.

Denki turns. He’s not the only one.

“Looks like your driver needs some help,” someone from Class 1-B says and Hitoshi turns just in time to see you slip out of the drivers seat. You’re barefoot and the purple hair catches the sunlight as you pop the hood of the truck with an apologetic smile.

“I’ll be gone in a minute. Sorry to bother you.”

“Do you need help?” Vlad King asks, his deep voice graveling through the silence.

“It’s just the battery,” you tell him and Denki visibly sparks alive, turning to Aizawa-Sensei with glinting eyes. “Sensei, can I-?”

Aizawa-Sensei’s eyes flicker to Hitoshi who feels the dread collecting in his stomach like dirt at the bottom of a well. He’s not really got a choice here. If he says no, he’ll look like a massive dick. Not to mention that it will just prolongue your stay here.

If he says yes he’ll feel awful the entire time but at least you could be gone faster and they could turn back to other, less awful things.

“Hello.”

Hitoshi blinks. In the time he’s spent thinking about his answer, Shouto has stepped forward, addressing you. You look up.

“Hi.”

Shouto blushes and returns to his spot next to Midoriya, muttering something about cats and dinner that maybe not even Midoriya will understand.

“Dude,” Denki mutters to his left. “Are you telling me Shouto’s met her already?”

“We are here for joint practice,” Aizawa-Sensei cuts in before Hitoshi can say anything. “Not to gossip about the relatives of our classmates. If I hear any other comment about this or something similarly unimportant, you can pack your bags and go home, understood?”

Awkward silence follows his speech. Aiazwa-Sensei nods. “Let’s go then.”

He turns toward you as he leads the students away. “Power Loader will be with you shortly to help you with the car, Shinsou-san.”

It’s the wrong last name, but only Hitoshi, you and Aizawa-Sensei know that.

Hitoshi’s distracted and he knows it. But there’s not much he can do about it now.

They’ve got barely any time to change into their costumes, which works in his favor, since no one has the time to ask him anything.

Pain shoots through his back as he straightens but he breathes through it, relieved to find that it’s not as bad as it had been yesterday.

“Ready?” Aizawa-Sensei asks outside. They answer in unison.

Their first practice resembles the exam for the practical licence, though this time their balls are filled with paint to mark their targets.

Hitoshi isn’t too bad at this, he finds, though he has to work hard to keep up with his group. Even Midoriya’s faster than him today, and he’s not using his Quirk at all as far as Hitoshi knows.

“Gotcha!” The ball hits him in the back, right where it hurts the most.

White-hot pain flashes through his body and then… nothing.

Chapter 6 Chapter Text

Hitoshi comes to with a white ceiling above him, which tells him enough about his whereabouts to know he’s no longer on the training grounds.

“Oh, you’re awake,” Recovery girl whistles next to him, tsk-ing when he tries to move. “Keep still, will you? First you try to practice with a slipped disc and now you wanna jump out of bed after that fall? You young people have no regards for your health.”

“What happened?”

“You passed out and tumbled down the rocks,” a deep voice to his right pipes up and the next moment Aizawa-Sensei’s face is hovering above him. “Keep your eyes on me while you answer a few questions. How did you hurt your back?”

“Yesterday,” Hitoshi groans. “I was doing some extra-training with Ojiro.”

“And you went home in pain?”

“Yeah.”

“What did your sister say about that?”

“She wasn’t home.” Aizawa-Sensei’s eyebrows furrow at that and Hitoshi tries - and fails - to safe it. “She had a date.” The brows are almost one straight line now. “Yokoyama-san was home if I needed something.”

“And you couldn’t have needed something like a doctor, maybe?”

“I took a painkiller,” Hitoshi defends himself. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“It was a slipped disc, Hitoshi. Other people don’t even try to walk with that kind of pain.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Hitoshi mutters, embarrassed. “Can I go back-”

“No,” Aizawa-Sensei steps away for a second before returning. “You’ve severely hit your head on the way down. You’re out of commission for at least two to three days.”

“Days?” Hitoshi gasps. The movement is enough to make a pain appear in his head he hadn’t been aware of before. He feels like he’s going to puke any second.

“Days,” Aizawa-Sensei confirms. “Luckily your sister was still around. She’s going to take you home as soon as Recovery Girl deems you ready. Shall I let her in?”

Hitoshi takes a deep breath. Oh, you will be mad . “Sure.”

A door opens somewhere to his left. There’s mumbling, too many voices to be just you, but before he can think about it you address him. He tries to turn but Recovery Girl has either tied him to the bed or is holding him down because he cannot move.

“Hey,” your face appears above him. Worry sits deep in your eyes. “How much pain are you in? Rate it on a scale from 1 to 10.”

“Zero if I don’t move.”

You snort. “That’s not really what I asked. You need to sit in the car with me for at least another twenty minutes and you need to walk to said car.”

Something wet meets his cheek and Recovery Girl speaks up. “I think he should feel a lot better after a nap. Of course there’s only so much I can do, so he’ll need time to recover. Do you want a coffee while we wait?”

“Wait for wh-” Hitoshi yawns, exhaustion suddenly rushing in. He can barely keep his eyes open. The last thing he feels is your hand dragging softly through his hair.

-x- You -x-

There are a lot of things you’d rather do right now than sit in the teacher lounge of U.A. in your sleepwear, sipping coffee while you wait for Hitoshi to wake up again.

At least you put on a bra this morning before you went downstairs.

Present Mic does a double take at the door at your sight.

“What are you doing here?”

“Do you want the long answer or the short one?”

“The long one, if it’s not a hassle.” He takes a seat between you and Recovery Girl who’s currently nibbling on a cookie. “You look like you’ve been in a fight.”

You laugh. “Well, something like that. Hitoshi overslept, so I had no choice but to drive him here in the state I was in, fresh out of bed myself as you can see. When it was time to return home, however, my car wouldn’t start up again. Power Loader was nice enough to help me, though before I could leave I was informed that Hitoshi hurt himself during practice. And now we’re waiting for him to wake up from his nap.”

“Is it bad?” The question is directed at Recovery Girl who sighs. “I’m used to the first years being reckless but this takes the cake.”

“Well, isn’t this the first year for him in the Hero Course anyway?” You ask. “He probably thinks he’s behind, trying desperately to catch up.”

“But like that?” She waves her hands around. “Training with a slipped disc? That’s just dangerous.”

“I’m not encouraging it, I’m just saying I can understand.”

Present Mic turns, his greenish-yellow eyes focused on you. “What are you going to do about it? Are you going to call his Mom?”

You can tell he knows something just from the way he phrases the question, even without feeling the emotions bubbling around him.

“I think him being out of commission is already punishment enough for him, at least for now. But I will have a talk with him about taking his health more seriously.”

“You think that’s enough?”

“It should be,” you answer. “Why?”

“Are you just that lax because you’re his sister, or-?”

“Do you have experience raising children or are you just trying to be annoying?” You fire back before he can finish his sentence.

Present Mic pulls back, blinking in surprise.

“I’m sorry if I offended you, but you seem remarkably calm for someone who’s loved one has just gotten seriously hurt.”

“I’m sorry. The next time we meet I’ll make sure to put on a show for you, so you can be aware of my real feelings.” You get up, well aware that your messy bun and stained clothes are not the least bit threatening. “I’d like to go back to Hitoshi now, please.”

Hitoshi’s quiet the whole ride back. You’re pretty sure it’s the painkillers Recovery Girl prescribed him. You let him be, only to call him back when he moves to walk up the stairs to his room.

“I need to keep an eye on you,” you remind him. “Head injuries are no joke. You’re sleeping on the Couch today.”

“But-”

You shake your head and he obeys without another word needed. Mildew plops down on his stomach the moment he’s lying down, purring loudly. You hesitate for a second before you walk over and take a seat on the floor.

“Can we talk for a bit?”

“Do we have to?”

“Yeah, Hitoshi, we kinda do.”

He groans and rubs his face. “I’m sorry.”

“About what?”

“Everything. That I didn’t tell you my back hurt and that I overslept this morning and everything else that happened today.”

“And why are you sorry?”

Hitoshi’s quiet and you reach out to take his hand in yours, rub your thumb over his knuckles, waiting for him to talk again. He doesn’t.

“Maybe you’re sorry because of how it all turned out. If you had done things differently, you think, you would still be at pratice right now, catching up to your peers. And I would understand that. This is your first year in the Hero Course and you have a lot to catch up on. But as far as I’ve been told you’re extremely talented. You’ll have the time you need to catch up.”

“You don’t know that,” he mumbles.

“No,” you agree softly. “I don’t. But I believe in you. And I believe in taking your health seriously. If something hurts I need to know. Is that alright with you?”

He’s quiet for a while. Long enough that you have to ask again.

“Yeah,” he mumbles finally. “I’ll try.”

“Thank you. I know you hate this, but we’ll have to talk about this again, okay? Just to make sure you keep remembering it. Now, what do you want to do? Nap? Something else?”

“Can we watch a movie?”

“Sure, do you want me to sit with you?”

“Yes please.”

You find a seat next to his head, let your palm rest on his temple. Despite the change in size this is still the little boy that refused to talk in case his Quirk could hurt anyone. This is still the boy who snuck into your bedroom at night because he had trouble falling asleep.

You card your fingertips through his hair. His emotions are still all over the place, and you can tell he has a hard time figuring out a movie to watch. You let him take his time. There’s no rush here.

Hitoshi falls asleep about halfway into the movie. You stay with him until it ends before starting a soap opera for background noise, sliding out of your seat with one last glance back at him before moving to the kitchen. He’s going to be hungry when he wakes up.

-x- Shinsou Hitoshi -x-

He sleeps most of the day, Mildew a heavy weight on his stomach.

Despite his usual need for social media he manages quite well to keep his hands off his phone, probably because he dreads the onslaught of texts he’s going to find.

He’s not wrong. Denki is the worst offender, though he’s also the only one who wants to know about his sister. All the other text messages are either asking about how he’s doing or telling him what he’s missed.

Hitoshi leaves them all on read - minus Midoriya, who’s probably going to break down his door if Hitoshi doesn’t tell him he’s still alive - before he re-enters the chat with Denki, chewing on his lower lip as he considers his options.

He should have known that Denki would figure it out. He’s too perceptive sometimes, and smarter than most people give him credit for.

And although he hasn’t yet asked the dreaded question it’s only going to be a matter of time until he will.

“You good?” You stop in front of the Couch, your hair tied up, red stains on your already stained tanktop. “I made Lasagna,” you explain when you notice him looking. “Your emotions are flickering. Everything okay?”

“Do you have to read my emotions all the time?”

“Sorry. Can’t help it when you’re this loud,” you apologize, reaching out to pat his foot. “Do you wanna talk about it.”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you wanna play twenty questions instead?”

Hitoshi sighs, letting his head sink back into the pillows. It hurts less that way. “Fine.”

“Is it about your blond friend? He stood next to you this morning.”

He tenses. “Yes.”

“Your turn. You get to ask me now.”

Hitoshi takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. “Eh… how did your date go?”

“I told you this morning. Do I have to add memory loss to your symptoms?”

He pouts. “No, I knew that. Ugh, let me think- why are you even single?”

“That’s your question?”

“Yeah, why?”

You breathe loudly through your nose before nodding. “Alright. I’m single because I am living the life I want to live and I’ll only consider dating someone who can accept and add to this lifestyle. Does that make sense to you?”

“You like being a Foster Mom?” There’s more surprise in his voice than he intended to.

You nod, your face and voice sincere. “Love it even. Now, do you think your blond friend would like to come and visit?”

Hitoshi hesitates again. “Yeah, sure. Kaminari thinks you’re hot, so…”

You cringe. “He’s a little too young for me.”

Hitoshi laughs. “No shit. Just… I don’t want… I don’t know if I want him to know… everything, you know?”

“You think he’d figure it out that easily?”

He shrugs. “Maybe not, but he’s my best friend. If anyone should figure it out, it’s him, right? We spend the most time together anyway.”

You nod. “Even best friends have their weaknesses. They can get jealous when they feel like they’re being replaced. They can feel hurt when they notice you’re keeping secrets from them. Both things could happen with Kaminari, especially if he figures out that Shouto’s been over and he hasn’t. And you’re usually not one to invite people over.”

“That’s exactly what’s happening,” he summarizes the chain of text messages waiting for him. “And I don’t know what to do.”

“If you want to keep him as a friend, you kinda have to invite him over. And if he is as good a friend as you think he is, nothing bad will happen from it.” You pat his foot again. “Do you wanna try to get up and eat Dinner with me? Or do you wanna eat lying down?”

“I’m getting up. I need to pee anyway.”

You’re on the phone by the time he comes back down from the bathroom, your face void of any emotion.

“Who is it?” He asks, suddenly scared.

“Aizawa-Sensei,” you tell him, before adding a “I’ll put you on speaker.”

Aizawa-Sensei’s voice sounds a lot more tinny through the speaker but it’s unmistakably him.

“Hitoshi, I’ll come over tomorrow.” It’s neither a question, nor an offer, just a plain old fact.

“Okay?”

“Eri wants to see you and since you can’t very well come to our place, we’ll come and visit you. Is there anything you want that we could bring?”

Hitoshi thinks of their cats, Pumpkin, Marshmallow and Banana, but it would be ridiculous to ask for them.

“Hot Chocolate,” he says instead, because he knows how much Eri likes drinking it and besides, he could use a cup.

“Hot Chocolate it is. Hitoshi, we’ll see you tomorrow. Stay safe until then.”

“Will do,” he mutters, listening in as you say your goodbyes as well. You’re polite, though not overly excited.

“Do you not like Aizawa-Sensei?” He asks as you put a glass of water in front of him.

You sigh. “It’s not about not liking him. I’m sure he’s a great teacher, I’m just a little on edge. Too many people have been questioning my ability to foster recently and I’m not immune to that.”

Hitoshi tenses. “What do you mean? You’re great!”

“Thanks,” you take his plate and pile a helping of the Lasagna onto it. It’s a soupy red mess and his stomach churns just at the sight of it.

“Sorry,” your voice wavers lightly. “I’m not the best cook.”

“It’s okay,” he assures you, stuffing a forkful into his mouth. You picked the wrong noodles, he finds, chewing slowly, forcing his face not to show any emotion.

You get up and take his plate away, marching toward the sink.

“It’s good!” Hitoshi calls out but you shake your head, your back turned to him. “It’s not. I can tell, even if you’re faking it.”

Swallowing is almost painful. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes, waiting, dreading what will happen next.

He can see your shoulders rise and lower with each breath. When you speak your voice is calm.

“Do you want Pizza? Or I could make us Ramen.”

“Ramen is fine,” Hitoshi whispers, licking his lips. “About the Lasagna…”

You turn, your features soft. It’s foreign to see you this vulnerable. “Have you figured out already that I’m not a good cook, Hitoshi?”

“Well…”

You walk back toward the table, push the glass of water toward him. “Drink. I’m sorry Dinner will take a little longer.”

“Aren’t you mad?”

“Mad?” You blink in surprise. “About the botched Lasagna?”

“That I didn’t like it?”

Your hand is in his hair all of a sudden, the touch light enough that he closes his eyes. It reminds him of old times, of sharing a bed with you, reading a book together. Hitoshi feels like he’s falling and maybe he is, because his face is suddenly pressed into your side, one arm around you to hold himself upright.

“I’d never hold your tastebuds against you, Hitoshi,” you tell him earnestly. “You wanna take another nap?”

“I won’t be…” He breathes in, looks for the words at the back of his mouth where they’re hiding, “... able to sleep at night… if I nap now.”

“You’ll be fine,” you assure him, your hands still in his hair. “I’ll wake you when Dinner is done.”

Slowly, you walk him back to the Couch, help him sink back into the pillows. Your touch is soft, makes him feel like a kid again, scared and anxious in every second that wasn’t spent by your side.

“Are you mad?” He asks again, his words a little slurred. Sleep is trying to pull him in quickly.

“What for, ‘Toshi?” You ask.

“I wasn’t nice today. Or good. Or…”

“You were perfectly yourself,” you tell him softly, your hand cool on his warm cheeks. “I couldn’t ask for more. Will you tell me about practice when you wake up?”

“Sure,” he mutters, blinking just enough to spot the purple of your hair before sleep fully pulls him under.

Chapter 7 Chapter Text

-x- You -x-

The little girl is hiding behind Aizawa’s leg, her emotions a flickering mess of fear, anxiety and curiosity. That is, until Mildew appears on the stairs, meowing loudly.

“Are you coming to say Hi?” You ask your fat cat, rubbing a hand over her head. “What a polite little lady.”

“Mreow,” Mildew makes, eyeing the Newcomers with curious eyes. Sometimes you think she might be a human with a Quirk that lets her transform into a cat. She’s lazy enough to make you believe she’s just here for all the free stuff.

“This is Mildew,” you introduce her to your Guests. “She’s not at all shy, so you’ll have to push her away if she’s trying to steal your food.”

Fondness flickers through the two of them, just long enough that you’re able to tell that Aizawa is a fan of cats. You wouldn’t have guessed, though Mildew already walks up to him, rubbing her head against his shin, leaving white hair all over his dark trousers.

The girl behind him giggles and offers her hand to Mildew who licks it, probably hoping for some food.

“She likes you,” you point out and big red eyes look up at you, hope dancing in them.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “I’m… I’m Eri.”

“Hi, Eri. Come in, please. Hitoshi’s been napping on the Couch for the last half hour, but he should wake up any minute. And if you see something red running around, that’s Rust. She’s a bit more active then Mildew… Right, Rust?”

You can see her from the corner of your eye, running down the bannister only to climb onto your shoulder.

“Oh, you really wanna show off, huh?” You ask her, smiling when she purrs loudly into your ear, clearly proud of herself.

“We brought Hot Chocolate,” Eri speaks up again, grabbing Aizawa’s left hand with her small one and tugging him forward, careful not to stumble over Mildew. “And Games.”

“Oh, that’s nice. Shall I make some Hot Chocolate for us right now?”

Eri looks up at Aizawa as if to ask for guidance. He nods and she beams up at you again. “Yes, please.”

Fifteen minutes later you watch Eri from the kitchen table. She’s taken a seat on Hitoshi’s side, Mildew stretched out on her lap as she tells Hitoshi a story, stumbling over words in her excitement.

Aizawa’s calm next to you, his emotions carefully hidden. Still, you feel like you know where this is going to go.

“Do you want see his room?” You ask under your breath when you notice that his coffee has run empty.

He blinks. “Why would I want to see that?”

“Oh please,” you huff, still forcing yourself to talk quietly. “You are here to check on him, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he nods, his eyes flickering between the kids and you. “I am checking in on him right now.”

“Everyone always wants a tour,” you point out. “Because they can’t fathom I’m not keeping him in a cupboard of some sort.”

“He is sleeping on the Couch,” Aizawa reminds you, catching you off guard.

“Right,” you swallow. “Because of the Head Injury.”

Aizawa’s eyebrows raise a little and you realize he’s teasing you only half-way through coming up with an elaborate insult.

You sigh. “Well, tell me when you need the bathroom,” you say instead, your anger whooshing out of you with your next breath. “I’ll show you the upstairs rooms then.”

Aizawa nods and turns his head just in time to watch Rust climb the backrest of the Couch where she stares down at Hitoshi and Eri like she’s only now realizing they’re here as well.

His lips pull up into a smile and you look away, suddenly ashamed of your staring.

“Would you show me the bathroom then?” He asks then, forcing you to turn back to him.

You roll your eyes in almost fond exasperation. “Sure,” you get up. “Follow along.”

“You bought this house?” Aizawa asks, leaning against the doorframe of Hitoshi’s bedroom.

He looks taller here, the shadows on his face more pronounced.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I grew up here. Hitoshi too, well, some of the time. We used to have more bedrooms downstairs, but we renovated and made it a separate apartment.”

“We?”

“Oh, yes.” You scratch your neck, looking away. His gaze is a little too intense to hold at the moment. “Yokoyama Masa, you might have read her name on the door. She raised me, and well, Hitoshi.”

“I didn’t know that.” His voice hasn’t lost it’s roughness, though it has softened and you can feel his empathy for you.

“Now you know.” You swallow. “Well, this is Hitoshi’s room and there’s another one just like this on the other side. The bathroom is the next door on the right and my bedroom is at the end of the hallway.”

Aizawa nods, still lettings his eyes wander.

“How often do you foster?”

You blink. “Well, I’ve officially started five years ago and I’ve had ten kids since then. Some stay longer than others and I did house four kids for a few weeks after the War because their parents were missing, but I don’t count those as fosters.”

“You think you’ll have another one soon?”

“Who knows? I don’t wish it on any kid to go through this but I’m here if they need me.” You hesitate. “Do you know… Do you know a guy named Takami Keigo?”

His eye flickers back to you and you know, just by the shift in his emotions, that he does.

“He’s a former Pro Hero,” he says, his voice low and even. “What about him?”

“He works at the HPSC now. He approached me because he’s looking for a Foster place for a kid.”

“So?”

“So,” you shrug, “I thought you might know him. Your questions are pretty similar.”

He turns his head away, huffs quietly. “I’m just looking out for Hitoshi.”

“I’m doing the same,” you remind him, fighting not to tense up. “And I told Keigo that Hitoshi was going to stay top priority, just so you know.”

“Keigo, huh?” He asks, irritation swirling through him. You swallow as you wait for him to speak up again. He doesn’t.

“Dad?” Eri asks from below. “Where are you?”

“Upstairs,” he calls out without taking his eye from you. “I’m coming. Give me a second.”

“Okay.”

His arm brushes yours as he passes you and you reach out to stop him, reacting on instinct.

Aizawa stops, unease and anticipation so loud in your ears you’re not sure if you’re reading his emotions or your own.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, your voice urgent but low. “About yesterday. I know what it looks like but… maybe you should know that Hitoshi allowed Shouto to visit. That’s huge for him.”

His eye flickers from your face to your hand still curled around his elbow. You let go, thoroughly embarassed.

“Thank you,” he tells you, his voice clipped and cool. And then he walks down the stairs like he couldn’t care less.

You wonder if he knows, though, that you can read his emotions still, the turbulant mess that’s currently raging inside him.

Annoyance, worry, fondness, grief, exhaustion and, just barely there but enough to taste it… desire.

-x- Shinsou Hitoshi -x-

He’s allowed to move upstairs again on Sunday afternoon and he celebrates it by doing the one thing that has been sitting heavy in his stomach the whole time.

“Hello?” Denki sounds uncharasterically low as he picks up and Hitoshi bites his lower lip before he answers.

“Hey. It’s me.”

“I know, I can read.”

Hitoshi flinches at the annoyance. “Sorry, I-”

Denki sighs. “This sucks. Did I do something to annoy you?”

“No?”

“Then why are you acting so weird around me? I thought we were friends? Besties even. Bro’s before Hoes, remember?”

Hitoshi swallows thickly. Cold sweat’s running down his back but he pulls the phone from his ear and slides his thumb over the screen to the camera icon.

Denki accepts the change to video call immediately, though he doesn’t back off quick enough, so all Hitoshi can see is an impressive double chin.

He snorts and Denki moves, peering down at him. “What’s so funny, Bro?”

“Your face,” Hitoshi rubs over his eyes and groans. “Sorry. Ugh, just… What I’m about to show you has to stay a secret between us, okay? Like a die before you tell it kind of secret.”

“Gotcha.” Denki’s face turns serious. “What happened? Did you kill someone?”

“No,” Hitoshi sighs before he switches to the front camera, moving it around his room. “This is where I live.”

“Uh, nice? I didn’t know you were an All Might Fan. Does Midoriya know?”

Hitoshi laughs unamused. “It’s not my Poster. Okay, how do I explain this… My mom is not on a work trip.”

“Okay?”

“She’s uh… not fit to be a Mother at the moment. Hasn’t been for a while, actually. Someone alerted the authorities and they put me in Foster Care.”

Denki curses and Hitoshi switches cameras so that they’re face to face again.

“It’s alright though. My Foster Mom, she’s uh… I’ve known her for a while. She’s like my big sister.”

Denkis eyes grow huge. “That is… That was your Foster Mom? How… How does that happen?”

Hitoshi blinks. “If you’re talking about her being hot again I’m going to cut off the call.”

“Sure, yeah, sure…” Denki nods. “I wasn’t going to, but thanks for the warning, Bro. I just… She’s really young, isn’t she?”

“She’s as old as Aizawa-Sensei,” Hitoshi recalls. “They’re both 31.”

“Oh. OH.” Denki grins back at him with that Daredevil smile. “We could set them up! That way your favorite teacher would be your Dad and you could make him be nicer to us.”

“Don’t be ridic-” Hitoshi trails off as he remembers something. You went upstairs to show Aizawa-Sensei the bathroom but you stayed up there for far too long.

“Are you seeing my vision? Are you?”

“Whatever,” Hitoshi shakes his head to get rid of the thought. “You know my situation now. Can you keep it a secret?”

“For sure. But doesn’t Shouto know too? Can he keep it a secret? And how come he got to know before me?”

Hitoshi sighs. “Aizawa-Sensei made me do Counselling.” “Ouch.” “Yeah, well, Shouto’s session is the one before mine and he sat around looking all pathetic when I came out. He’s pretty much alone at home every Thursday so I had to invite him over.”

“Right, right.” Denki nods. “When can I come over then?”

Hitoshi sighs. “Why do you want to come over? You see me all the time at school.”

“Yeah, but that’s different. Everyone gets to see you at school. Besides, you’ve been at my place, you’ve tasted my Mom’s cooking. I wanna have the same experience.”

Hitoshi hesitates. Denki uses his best puppy dog eyes.

Sighing, Hitoshi nods. “You can come over this week. I’ll ask her later. I-”

“I can come tomorrow,” Denki promises. “Someone has to bring over all the notes you’ve missed, right? I can do that. Gets me brownie points with Yaomomo too.”

“Why are you so obsessed with girls again?” Hitoshi asks, snorting when Denki immediately launches into a tirade.

- - -

“Hey Mrs. Shinsou,” Denki greets you as you open the door.

Hitoshi snorts from his position behind you. He’s got almost no dizziness left, though he’s still quite slow when he needs to move. Maybe he can go back to school tomorrow, if he’s being extra nice.

“Hey, Denki,” you greet him warmly, letting him step in. “You know Shinsou isn’t my actual last name, right?”

“Sure,” Denki’s still a little pink from you calling him by his first name. “But how else would we keep the secret?”

You still. “Right. Well, come in. Do you want something to eat? Hitoshi looked up some recipes online today and Dinner turned out pretty decent.”

“We had Katsudon,” Hitoshi explains as Denki shakes his head. “But I can take a bag of chips and we can eat them in my room so you have the office to yourself.”

You nod. “Fine with me. I still need to get some work done. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

They’re halfway up the stairs when Denki turns back again, however, calling out to you.

“Oh, before I forget, Aizawa-Sensei sends his regards.”

“To me?” You ask, clearly confused, but Denki nods fervently. “For sure.”

“Oh, okay.” You turn away again and Hitoshi would have given an arm and a leg to read your emotions for a chance.

“Did Aizawa really send his regards?” He asks once his bedroom door closes behind him.

Denki shrugs. “I think so. I didn’t listen to everything he said but he did mention your sisters name.”

Hitoshi furrows his brows. “Then why did you say it?”

“Because we’re setting them up, remember?”

He hesitates. The eagerness in Denki’s eyes tells him that this could go very very wrong if he doesn’t put a stop to it now, but couldn’t it also go right?

Sure, there are days where he thinks that Aizawa likes him. Not enough that he’d dare to ask him if he’d be ready to take him in and raise him, like you do. But if he’d date you, seriously too, that would mean he’d take him in, right?

He can picture it, too. You and Aizawa, him and Eri, an all their cats, living happily together.

“Fine,” he huffs, a little ashamed of the warmth bubbling inside of him at that thought. “But we need to be sneaky about it.”

- - -

Hitoshi’s allowed to go back on Tuesday, mainly because Recovery Girl wanted to do another check up on him and because they don’t have any practical training scheduled that day. It’s all about Hero Politics and the in and outs of running an agency.

You drive him up to the school and sit with him during Recovery Girl’s assessment, a quiet, comforting presence.

Maybe that’s why he does what he does later that day.

Ochako looks like shit. And not in the kinda sexy way she does when she’s going all out during fights - both real and in training - but the way he does when he hasn’t managed to sleep longer than one hour uninterrupted for a few days.

Hitoshi corners her after English under the pretense of asking for some medication. He knows she carries ginger, mint and other natural remedies against nausea and with his concussion it’s an easy lie.

“You good?” He asks when everyone else has filed out of the class and Ochako’s still looking through her bag, her anxiety now almost palpable.

“Yeah, sure, what do you mean?”

“You look like me when I get nightmares.”

She deflates like a balloon, her eyes flickering through the classroom as if to make sure no one else is listening.

“I do… I kinda do have nightmares.”

“Yeah? What about?”

She licks her lips. “It’s silly. I thought I was over it.”

Hitoshi pulls a chair over to sit down. He’s normally not the kind of person you go to when you want to talk about your feelings, or shit like that, but Ochako’s cool.

Sometimes he thinks that all of Class 1-A are. Cool. Easy to get along with. Sure, some of them are more extroverted and he avoids them as much as he possibly can when his social battery is low, but they’ve all proven to give it their all when needed. And he’s seen them stick up for each other too.

He’s still not said anything but Ochako nods as if understanding him nonetheless, leaning forward a little so that she can speak a little quieter.

“In my dreams… I always see Himiko. Sometimes she’s dying, sometimes she’s still alive, a-and sometimes I don’t even get through to her… some nights our fight never ends. It’s been months since then. I-I should be over it by now.”

Hitoshi hesitates. “Maybe… maybe you should still talk to someone about it.”

Ochako scoffs. “Like the school counselor? What’s he going to do? Besides, isn’t he…” She leans even further in. “Isn’t he expensive?”

Hitoshi shakes his head. “No, I don’t think you even have to pay for it. I can ask him next time I-” He stops, swallowing thickly. He just told on himself.

But Ochako either doesn’t notice it or she doesn’t care because she nods, clearly a little out of the loop. “Yeah, sure, do that. I just…” She sighs and rubs her eyes. “I just need the strongest coffee I can get. I really can’t miss any sleep with the exam’s drawing nearer.”

And that… well, Hitoshi can help with that.

“You could come to my place after school,” he offers, getting up when she does and following her out of the classroom. “My sister has an Empathy Quirk but she can also help you fall asleep. I can ask her if she can help you nap, just for tonight.”

Ochako beams at him. “You’d do that? That would help me so much! Thanks, Shinsou!”

Chapter 8 Chapter Text

Shouto waits for him after Counselling, his backpack clutched to his chest.

He looks tired and small and Hitoshi just nods into the direction of the stairs, not the least bit surprised when Shouto follows him all the way to the parking lot, sliding into the backseat with no invitation needed.

“Hey boys,” you greet them, reaching out to mess up Hitoshi’s hair first and then Shouto’s, who’s face turns even more boyish after that small interaction. “I’ve had no lunch break today, I’m starving and I have no motivation to cook whatsoever. Do you guys want to order something and pick it up on the way home?”

“Can we get Soba?” Shouto asks immediately and Hitoshi, who likes Soba just enough not to toss it, resigns himself to his fate.

“I think we need to do more than just Soba,” you type something on your phone. “How about Soba, Pho, Pizza and a Burger? We can go halfsies on everyhing? Or whatever you call it when you cut it three ways.”

Hitoshi raises an eyebrow in question and you shrug. “I’m getting my Period. Any other food I’ve forgotten?”

“Wings,” Hitoshi points out, amused when you go back to your phone.

“Wings it is.”

Shouto’s staring down at his plate, the food untouched.

Hitoshi waits for you to say something and fears for a moment you might not notice his friends discomfort.

Friend , Hitoshi wonders. Friend? Shouto?

His heart does that weird sommersault thing that’s not quite panic but not nothing either. He’d been talking about his classmates in Counselling today, described everyone and how he got along with them. Sure, Denki is his best friend, no questions asked. But he’s also weirdly close with Midoriya, understanding and not understanding him at the same time. He shares things and feelings with Ochako no one else will probably get - and he hopes they’ll never have to, anyway - and he enjoys riling Bakugo up more than anything, but…

Yes, he confirms it to himself. Yes, Shouto is a friend.

Hitoshi catches your look. He knows Shouto’s not doing too good right now, but he’s also not qualified to say what he needs. That’s your area of expertise, isn’t it?

“Shouto?” You ask, as if reading Hitoshi’s mind. “Would it be okay if I touch you?”

“Huh?” Shouto turns. “I mean, sure, if you need to.”

Your hand rests softly on his shoulder. A shiver runs through him, visible even from this distance. Hitoshi swallows thickly. Is this… Is he having a panic attack?

“Sometimes,” you say calmly, “our emotions all come out at once. Fear and grief, anger and longing, that quiet wish for harmony and the nagging feeling that this was unfair. It’s like trying to read a street sign in a Hurricane. First, we need to stop the Hurricane.”

“How do I do that?” Shouto asks, his voice so empty it’s painful.

“First, you name the feeling. Pick just one, the first one you notice. And if you don’t know how to name the feeling just yet, you can describe it. With a color or an adjective or something like that.”

“I feel…” Shouto hesitates. “Deep purple.” He points at his chest. “Right here.”

“Okay,” you nod, your hand rubbing soft circles on his back. “That’s the next step. Locate the feeling. Let it exist, don’t judge, and just allow it to be here. If you try to push it away it will just come back with vengeance.”

Shouto swallows and Hitoshi can feel himself mirroring it. He’s not sure what deep purple means to Shouto other than maybe the color of his hair, but he can feel it himself, the pale lilac of anxiety flittering about in his stomach and he follows your lead as you keep talking.

“Don’t think too much about it. Just feel it. And when you do, notice what your body wants to do. Maybe it wants to cry it out, or exercise, or just shake until it’s gone. You can release it with deep breaths or dance or scream until you feel better. There are so many options.”

Hitoshi watches as Shouto starts leaning to the side, into you. It’s like watching a tree fall, slow at first, but unstoppable, until Shouto’s head is in your lap and he’s curled into a ball.

Your head lifts and you look at Hitoshi, your eyes too clear for comfort.

It feels as if you’ve already spotted it, how his body wishes to do the same, lean into you until he’s nothing but a shapless blob in the comfort of your hold, but his mind cannot let him take that away from Shouto, or allow himself to be this vulnerable while he’s present.

“I’ve got two arms to hug,” you whisper and he slides closer without really meaning to, his head against your shoulder as you hug him close.

It takes them a while to untangle themselves and when they do, the food has turned cold.

No one mentiones it though and as you get ready to drive Shouto home, Hitoshi climbs into the backseat as well, feeling, for the first time ever, not like an only child but a twin brother.

There are brothers in arms and brothers by blood, so why shouldn’t there be brothers by pain too?

-x- Aizawa Shouta -x-

The new week brings sunshine, delicious, tiring sunshine.

If only he could do like Pumpkin and curl up in a sunny spot to nap all day.

But no, he’s got adult responsibilites, like a job, chores and too many children to look after.

“Ah,” he stops Eri at the door. “It’s still pretty chilly when the sun’s gone. Don’t forget your jacket.”

She turns back around to get it, pulling on his pantleg when she reaches the door again.

“Can we invite Hitoshi over next weekend again?”

“Sure,” he opens the door and lets her walk out first, his hand stretched out to keep her from wandering off. Her hand wraps around his pointer finger, a silly little habit that still tugs at his heart strings.

“Can we invite his Mom too?”

His heart stutters. “His Mom?”

“Yeah,” Eri tugs on his finger. “She’s so nice! It would be so fun if she could bring Mildew and Rust over too, but I don’t think Banana would like it, do you?”

“No,” he clears his throat awkwardly as his heart thumps loudly in his chest. “No, I don’t think he’d like it. Remember when Midoriya got you that kitten plush?”

“Yeah,” Eri curls her nose up at the memory. “He peed on it.”

“But we can invite her, right?” Eri starts anew as they walk down the stairs to the parking lot. “I want her to be my friend. She’s so cool!”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes!” Eri pumps her free hand in the air to emphasize it. “Can I get a jacket like she does too? I touched it. It’s so soft.”

“It’s called a Flannel,” Shouta explains and opens the car door for her, fastening her seat belt before getting around the car. “And I’ll see if I can get one in your size.”

“Okay,” Eri starts playing with the strings on her jacket, waiting until he starts the car before she drops the next bombshell. “Do you think she’d like to be your girlfriend?”

His stomach gurgles loudly as he slinks through the hallways, looking for a spot to nap in. Shouta’s technically supposed to be grading today’s exams but he’s in desperate need of a nap and the sun is shining so warmly through the windows he knows he won’t stay awake anyway.

Eri hasn’t brought up the girlfriend topic again after he calmly explained that this wasn’t a topic suitable for her 7-year-old mind, but his own mind couldn’t let it go, turning it over again and again.

Shouta turns the corner to the nap-station, an area filled with loveseats and futons near the library. He’s not surprised to spot a head of purple hair there, after all he’s the one who introduced Hitoshi to it, but he stops dead in his tracks when he realizes Hitoshi isn’t alone.

On the biggest Futon, Hitoshi is stretched out and sleeping, one Shouto Todoroki curled against his side, both of their heads resting against Denki Kaminari’s left thigh as the third boy taps around on his phone.

Shouta clears his throat. Denki looks up.

“Oh, hi!” Denki grins from one ear to the other, “I’m the guardian of naps. Anxiety attacks quiver before me.”

“Is that a new meme I should be aware about?” Shouta asks, keeping his voice level despite his growing curiosity.

Denki gives him a thumbs up. “I can send you the link if you need it, but basically-”

“I don’t need it,” Shouta pinches the bridge of his nose. “Shouldn’t you be having Lunch right now?”

“Oh, right,” Denki’s smile widens. “I asked Midoriya to get Shouto something from the Cafeteria but of course Iida was absolutely against that so now Sato and Ojiro are smuggling the food out. I’m just here to make sure neither of them wakes up before it’s time.”

“And is there a specific reason these two need to catch up on sleep?”

“Sure, but I didn’t ask.” Denki shrugs. “We’re friends.”

Shouta’s weirdly touched by that. He eyes the Futon next to the boys. Should he? But no, that would be weird.

“Oh,” Denki smiles. “You could nap with us too. I promise I’m going to be extra quiet. And if I text Ojiro, he’ll bring you something from the Cafeteria too.”

“I’m capable of getting my own food.”

Denki opens his mouth to say something but Hitoshi beats him to it, blinking his eyes open and focusing them on Shouta. No words are needed, but there’s an emotion written into that deep purple that has Shouta lower his sleeping bag on the Futon he’d been eyeing from the start.

“If one of you wakes me up, I’ll make sure to give you detention,” he threatens, but he can tell neither of them is taking him seriously.

“And then I asked about their parents, but apparently that was a red flag, because who asks about family ties nowadays. So no second date for me,” Hizashi takes a sip of his tea, chuckling to himself.

Shouta looks over, heaves a sigh and gets up.

“Hey, where are you going?” Hizashi calls after him.

“Nezu. I’ll be back in a second.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Hizashi threatens. “You still need to grade that test!”

Nezu smiles as Shouta knocks against the doorframe.

“How can I help you? Tea?”

“Sure,” Shouta lowers himself into the chair in front of Nezu’s desk, accepting the cup of freshly brewed tea. The scent is comforting, taking him back all the way to his first day here. “I need some advice.”

“Advice?” Nezu clasps his hands together. “You’ve come to the right person.”

“I’m sure,” Shouta drawls, though he’s the opposite of it. “I’d normally ask Kayama about this, but-” He drops off. It still hurts too much to think about.

“Well, anyway.” He rubs both hands over his thighs. “Eri has started talking about me having a girlfriend.”

Nezu’s dark eyes cut straight to his. “She has?”

“Yes. I’ve been thinking about it and while I’ll definitely have to bring it up with our dear Counsellor, I wanted to ask… do you have any advice for me?”

Nezu sip from his one cup, taking his time.

“Advice on how to break it to her that you’re going to stay single for the rest of your life or advice on how to change your status from single to ‘in a relationship’?”

Shouta allows himself a second to breathe in and out, to let the panic fade before he answers.

“The latter.”

Nezu nods, his face earnest. Then, he claps in his hands.

“You’ve come to the right person. I’ve anticipated this happening and have researched quite a few dating sites.”

“You… have?”

“Yes, yes.” Nezu hesitates for a second. “This has started quite some time ago and, well, I had Kayama help me in my research. So as I now present my data to you, view it as something coming from both of us.”

Shouta huffs out a breath, trying to unlodge the lump in his throat. “Of course she did.”

“Are you coming over this weekend?” Shouta asks as Hitoshi packs up his things after training.

He can no longer do as much as he used to, but he’s still spry enough to put up a fight when he needs to. Maybe he should invite Monoma for one lesson a week, just to see the two of them work together.

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Hitoshi fights with the straps of his backpack, not yet looking at him. He’s exhausted, Shouta knows, wondering just how much sleep he’s actually getting at night.

Shouta sighs. “And bring your sister. Eri wants to see her.”

Hitoshi’s learned from the best, concerning his pokerface, but Shouta can see the faint twitch of his lips and scoffs.

“She obviously cares well for you,” Shouta points out stiffly. “And Eri likes her. But if Eri asks you to help her set me up, let her know that’s none of her business.”

“Eri’s trying to set you up?”

“Apparently one of her classmates has divorced parents and their father has currently started dating again. I’m not sure if she’s enticed by the presents her classmate is getting or if she’s thinking about me, but I have no time for that nonsense.”

“So you’re not dating?” Hitoshi asks, sounding like he doesn’t care about the answer at all.

Shouta’s eye narrows. “Don’t tell me you want to set me up as well.”

“I would never,” Hitoshi swears, though with an air of sarcasm. “With what Rizz? I don’t even pull myself.”

Shouta sighs. “Get out of here with that meme talk!”

-x- You -x-

Two weeks after your last conversation with Keigo you find him on your doorstep yet again.

“Hey!” His smile is charming and he leans in to take the groceries out of your hands. “Can we talk?”

“Depends,” you open the door. “What about?”

“Well…” He sidesteps Rust attacking his shoelaces and puts the groceries onto your kitchen table. “How about I take you out for a coffee and we talk about it some more?”

You send him a look. “Again. What about?”

He sighs. “We’ve narrowed it down to five different foster places that we think could take in the kid.”

“That’s great.”

“Well, yeah, but no.”

Rust hisses, biting into his shoe and Keigo’s eyes flick over to you, looking so utterly pathetic that you can’t help but feel sorry for him.

“Hand me the butter, will you?” You reach out for the little packet. “I’m listening. I’m not saying no to coffee yet, but I need to put the groceries away first. And Rust, stop it!”

Rust lets go of his shoe, tries one last time to slap away his offending shoelaces, before walking off with her tail raised high.

“She thinks she’s a dog,” you explain, taking the cheese from him. “So, it’s not great why?”

“Well three of those five are pretty far away from the city and while I do agree that growing up on the countryside could be beneficial, I voted against it.”

“Oh?” You take the meat and hesitate. “You know I can read the guilt you’re feeling, right?”

He curses under his breath. “I’m not supposed to tell you, okay?”

“Then don’t tell me, it’s fine.” You put the meat away and grab the tomatoes. “But just so you know, you’re the one coming back to me, not the other way around.”

“I know,” he blows out his cheeks like a little kid. “It’s just… I’ve done stuff in my life I’m not exactly proud of.”

“And?”

“And I feel like I owe it to the kid to keep an eye on it. That’s all.”

“So you’ve got history with one or both of his parents,” you conclude. Keigo doesn’t respond at all.

“Look,” you put the tomatoes away and rub your hands over your thighs to gather yourself. “I adore Hitoshi. He’s probably the most important person to me next to my Foster Mom. But I can’t raise him right if only think about myself, right? What if his mother comes back around?”

“What if he wants to stay with Aizawa instead?” Keigo asks, catching you off guard.

“You know Aizawa?”

“We’ve met,” Keigo answers non-commitally. “And it’s in Hitoshi’s file that his teacher showed up. They must be close if Aizawa did something like that. What if Hitoshi decided he’d rather be with him?”

You hesitate, your hands curling into fists as you consider it.

“Well,” you swallow thickly. “He’s got a right to decide something like that. And I can’t deny that Aizawa knows a lot more about being a Hero than I do. Who am I to deny Hitoshi this chance of achieving his dream?”

Keigo’s quiet for a while, but then he nods and hands you a cucumber from the bag.

“You’re worth admiring but I know I’m not as great a person as you are.”

You laugh. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But you’d be surprised what you’re capable of if you really care for someone.”

“I’d love to see it.”

“Don’t you want to change into something else?” Keigo asks once the groceries have been put away. “That black dress from last time?”

You snort. “I’m not putting on my sexy date dress just to get coffee with you.”

“Aww, why not?” He winks at you and you reach out to mess up his hair, grinning when he immediately reaches out to stop you.

“I’ll put on clean Jeans if that’s important to you.”

“Put on a dress!” Keigo calls after you as you walk up the stress. “I’m begging you. I’m just a guy after all, dying for a look at these legs of yours!”

You snort once more, but his words stay with you until you’re in front of your dresser, your barely used dresses looking back at you.

“I’ll turn back around if you say a word,” you threaten him as you walk back down, slipping into one of your trusted Flannel shirts. Who needs cardigans if you have them?

“I wouldn’t dare,” he says, his smile tipping to one side. “You look lovely.”

“Don’t risk it. Rust, leave his shoes alone!”

It’s one of those coffee shops that look older than they are, with dark wood and moody lightning and dark green plants in every corner.

It’s also a coffee shop you’d never go to, mainly because you can’t justify paying thrice the amount for one cup than you’d pay elsewhere.

You freeze in the doorway, your eyes locked on a familiar face at a table by the window.

Aizawa Shouta blinks back. His face is set in what you think might be his usual frown, but his mouth turns into a thin line when Keigo steps in behind you, his chest pressing into your shoulder.

“Why did you stop walking?”

“I just… saw someone I know.”

“Oh?” Keigo’s sharp eyes wander slowly through the coffee shop and you’re pretty sure he’s doing it to tease you. When he reaches Aizawa, he raises his hand for a slow wave but Aizawa pointedly looks away, focusing back on the person sitting opposite of him.

All you can see is a head of lucious curls, each one a different color reminding you of autumn leaves, red and golden and everything in between.

You swallow awkwardly and walk further in, pointing to a table on the other end of the room. “How about that one?”

“Oh, sure,” Keigo nods. “Go sit down, I’ll get us something to drink.”

You sit with your back to the room, a conscious decision to block out Aizawa. If you don’t see him, he’s not there.

And if Keigo knows or notices this, he doesn’t say, just smiling as he puts down a cup of coffee in front of you, sliding into his seat.

“So,” you turn your cup a little to admire the foam art on top, “You wanted to tell me more about the kid.”

“And we’re back to business,” Keigo jokes, destroying the latte art on top of his coffee carelessly with his spoon. “But you know I can’t tell you about the kid.”

You grin. “So tell me what you can.”

He hesitates before he takes a sip, his emotions settling like ruffled feathers do.

“I said we have five possible Foster Families. Three are outside the city, the other two are you and… well, I’m not telling you the name.”

“Oh, you picked me? I’m flattered.” You pull out your phone, giving in to the urge to take a picture of your cup. “And here I didn’t even tell you I was interested.”

“That’s not important. We’re moving to phase two, which is pretty critical still. Introduce the possible parents to the kid.”

“Oh,” you halt, your cup halfway to your mouth. “I get to meet the kid?”

“No,” Keigo sighs. “You didn’t make the overall cut. You’re just my favorite.”

You cringe at the wording and he notices, gifting you another teasing smile.

“Well, let me know how it turned out.”

“Really?” Keigo’s eyes crinkle at the corners as his smile widens. “You enjoy my presence?”

“Not really,” you deflect. “But at least then I know you’re not coming back.”

“You wound me.”

“You’ll survive.” You hesitate for a second before you give in to curiosity. “What makes me your favorite?”

Keigo hesitates before nodding, probably to himself. He’s playing with a little packet of sweetener, twirling it between his fingertips.

“Firstly, you have only one kid you’re currently fostering. They’ve got four.”

You nod, not giving him the satisfaction of a reaction and he continues. “Secondly, you are currently fostering a kid with a so called ‘dangerous Quirk’ and you don’t seem at all bothered by it. Thirdly, your own Quirk of Empathy could be exactly what our kid needs and lastly,” he gives you a dramatic pause, “I just have a feeling you’re the right one.”

“How long do you have before the Quirk shows?” You ask and his eyes narrow in warning, but he answers still.

“A few months, hopefully, but these things aren’t really predictable.”

“Well, there’s nothing I can do about it now, can I?” You take a sip of your coffee, smiling when it hits just right. “I’d rather enjoy my coffee then without wondering about the ‘what if’s’.”

“As you wish,” he clinks his cup against yours, smiling back at you.

You doubt this is over yet.

Chapter 9 Chapter Text

-x- Aizawa Shouta -x-

Hawks doesn’t give him the satisfaction of visiting him after hours, where Shouta could have punched him in the face and gotten away with it, instead sauntering into the teacher’s lounge at 4 p.m. on a Thursday afternoon.

“Do you have a minute?” He asks, handing over his thick white business card. Takami Keigo, HPSC.

“If you must,” Shouta snarls but follows him into the think tank they rarely ever use for meetings of that kind. It’s completely soundproof and if Shouta isn’t napping in here, it’s everyone’s preferred place to shut Yamada in when he’s being too loud again.

“In my new role at the HPSC I’m well aware of potentially dangerous quirks and-”

“Cut the crap,” Shouta scoffs, falling into a chair. “Tell me what you’re here for.”

Hawks grins. “Shinsou Hitoshi.”

“What about him?”

“How’s he doing?”

“As well as he can, considering he spent his first year in General Studies and has fought in a war recently at 16 years old.”

Hawks laughs dryly. “Sure, sure. How has changing homes impacted him?”

Shouta leans back in his chair to glare at the other guy. “What do you want?”

“I was just wondering,” Hawk’s smile is almost feral now. “Since you care so much about him and he cares about you, why you didn’t take him in?”

Shouta’s eyes narrow. “Do I look like a walking father figure? I can’t adopt every stray I see.”

“Don’t give me that crap, you’d take him in in a heartbeat, right?” Hawks smile is smug. “Is it because his dear Foster Mom turned up a little quicker than you did? Two working feet and all?”

“If you’re trying to provoke me you’ll have to try a little harder,” Shouta reminds him dryly. “But just for you, I’m going to explain the obvious. I’m Hitoshi’s teacher. He interns at my agency. If I were to take him in, I’d have to switch him over to Vlad. Vlad’s not a bad teacher, but Hitoshi’s Quirk and Goals are more aligned with what I used to do, so that wouldn’t benefit him in the slightest. The best for him, to my knowledge and yours probably too, is for him to stay where he is right now.”

Hawk's grin falters. “Damn. You’re making this harder for me than it needs to be.”

“If she’s not interested in you her opinion won’t change just because you get rid of Hitoshi. It’s more likely that the opposite will be the case. She loves the boy.”

“Right.” Hawks does a little funny sound in the back of his throat, not quite a scoff and not quite a snort either. “It’s not about me. I’ve got this kid I need to look out for.”

“Little T?”

Hawks shoulders lower. “Yeah. How do you know?”

Shouta nods. “Tsukauchi told me. Toshinori would take him in in a heartbeat.”

“Sure he would, selfless symbol of peace and all. But he’s not the kind of parent figure that kid needs and you know it.”

Shouta nods slowly. He can’t disagree with that. “You think she’s the right one?”

“Don’t you?”

He purses his lips as he looks directly into Hawk’s eyes and thinks of you. The way you treated Eri, or how soft you always are around Hitoshi.

He thinks of the little boy he only met once and nods without realizing it. “Yeah, you’re right.”

But there’s still one thing left to consider. “But if Hitoshi doesn’t get along with him you can forget it.”

Hawks sighs. “Who knows if she even gets a chance? I was overruled. The Teams Favorite is meeting him tomorrow.”

“Good luck on that.”

“Thanks.” Hawks gets up, pats his shoulder. “It’s probably needless to say, but don’t tell anyone.”

“Same goes for you.” Shouta levels him with a glare. “Outside of this room, she isn’t Hitoshi’s mother but his older sister. If you spill that secret, you’ll regret it.”

Hawks winces but he smiles. “Don’t worry. I know how to keep a secret, don’t I?”

When he opens the door on Saturday, you’re the first thing that he sees.

Your smile is wide, your arms full of baked goods. “Hitoshi helped,” you explain, handing them to him. “They’re edible.”

He sends a questioning look to the boy on your right who shakes his head no. Don’t ask.

“Hi!” Eri pops up behind him. “Come in! I wanna show you Banana. And Marshmallow and Pumpkin too, but Banana is currently sleeping and he’s so cute!”

“I’m coming,” you laugh, barely out of your shoes. “I’m coming.”

Hitoshi stays behind in the doorway, eyeing him cautiously.

“What?” Shouta wipes a hand over his face. “Did Eri draw on my face while I was sleeping?”

“No,” Hitoshi cracks a smile. “I’m… I was thinking…” Clearly, he’s uncomfortable and doesn’t want to say what needs to be said.

“You wanna take a look into my office?” Shouta asks, tapping the boy on the shoulder. “I’m sure the girls are currently occupied with the cats anyway.”

“Sure,” Hitoshi nods, following him along.

-x- Shinsou Hitoshi -x-

He’s been in here before, though it’s been a while. New pictures line the walls. He spots Eri in a few of them, blushing a little when he finds one of himself too. They’d been out with Yadama-Sensei as well as Mirio and someone, Hitoshi can’t say who, decided to take a picture of all of them together, Eri squeezed in between him and Aizawa-Sensei, her arms thrown around their shoulders.

“How are you doing?”

“Good,” Hitoshi answers on autopilot, but Aizawa’s right eyebrow raises above his eyepatch, questioning him.

“Counselling sucks.”

“Tell me about it.”

He hesitates. It could have been just a throwaway comment, but knowing his teacher Hitoshi’s pretty sure he meant it.

“We’ve been talking about my self-preservation skills. I- I’m- I want to apologize.” Oh, he already hates doing this.

“For what?”

Grinding his teeth, Hitoshi presses out: “For worrying you."

Silence stretches between them. It’s not entirely awkward, but still.

“Am I in trouble?” Hitoshi asks after a while, both hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers.

Aizawa exhales loudly through his nose.

“No,” he says, pointing at a chair. “You’re not in trouble. But I wonder why you’re still so hesitant to talk to me. Is it because I’m your teacher?”

“I’m like that with everyone,” Hitoshi points out, sitting down. Another eyebrow raise.

“What? It’s true.”

“You say that, but you take naps with Shouto Todoroki where everyone can see you. I’m pretty sure Denki knows everything about you and I’m definitely not wrong when I say that Ochako’s Bento Box has started to look suspiciously similar to yours.”

Aizawa’s voice is calm and level, not an ounce of accusation in it.

Still, Hitoshi can feel himself get defensive.

“That’s different. I’ve tried not liking them, but they’re-”

“Persistent?”

“Yeah,” Hitoshi nods, letting his fingers grip the inside of his pant-pockets just to have something to do. “Midoriya is the worst of all, but-” He hesitates. “I don’t think I mind it that much. Well, most of the time. It helps a bit against the-” He cuts himself off, checking if Aizawa has heard him. He has.

Stubbornly, Hitoshi falls quiet again, letting his eyes move through the room.

In the end, curiosity wins.

“Do you get nightmares, Sensei?”

Aizawa moves back, clearly taken aback by the question.

“Yes,” he admits, though he’s clearly wary of what might come next.

“About what?”

This time it’s Aizawa who has trouble answering.

“I lost a friend,” he finally comments. “When I was younger. Right at the start of my Career, you could say. The events of that day have haunted me ever since but the war has brought… a new perspective to it.”

Hitoshi nods. He knows bits and bobs about Kurogiri, the right hand to Shigaraki, if you might call him that. Just enough to gauge how messed up it must really be.

“I’ve always had nightmares,” Hitoshi admits, feeling a little less guilty about making Aizawa-Sensei reveal his own secrets. “The earliest I remember are from when I was about four. I kept dreaming that the people were going to steal my tongue, just so I would stop talking. I was terrified. Slept in- slept in my sisters bed for a month.”

“Makes sense.”

“Does it? Ever since the war I keep dreaming about losing them. My friends. Kaminari isn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer. It would be easy-” Hitoshi trails of and picks up again. “Or I dream about not making it. I can hear them say it. That my Quirk was never meant for a Hero… It helps having friends when I’m having these dreams.” He snorts against his will. “I told Midoriya about it once. Once. Can you believe the amount of notes he’s got on me? After all he went through you think he’d care a little more about himself first.”

Hitoshi looks up. The warmth in Aizawa’s remaining eye is enough to shut him up, to swallow all the unsaid words.

He’s not sure what it is, what broke inside of him all those years ago, but visible care like this leaves him reeling, like a fish on land.

Aizawa must have noticed because he looks away, giving him a second to gather himself.

“You’re going to make it, kid. You’ve got the potential it needs and the stubbornness to push through when it gets hard. I just wish you’d take care of yourself some more.”

“I’m trying,” Hitoshi points out, getting up. He’s getting antsy, he can feel it.

“Do you wanna try the food we brought? I barely helped, so make sure to compliment it, okay?”

Aizawa snorts. “I’ll try. Mind telling me about that?”

“When I’ve figured it out, I will.” Hitoshi promises, though it’s only half-hearted.

Aizawa’s hand moves out to block the door.

“One more thing, kid,” he points out, looming over him. “When we’re not in school I’d appreciate it if you called me by my first name, okay? But it’s whatever you’re comfortable with, okay?”

Something’s lodged inside Hitoshi’s throat, making it impossible to speak. He nods and feels the ghost of a hand brushing through his hair. When he looks up though, Aizawa’s already moving back, letting him get through the door.

Hitoshi’s half asleep on the way back home, overfed and overstimulated. He still needs to do his English homework when he gets home, and maybe start his project for Ethics Class, but right now all he can do is fight to keep his eyes open.

“Only two more weeks until training camp,” you tell him, maybe as a ploy to keep him awake. You’re surely not fit to carry him up from the car.

“Hmm,” Hitoshi makes, feeling more like liquid than a solid person.

And then, it happens.

You make a weird sound, somewhere between a gasp and a curse and then you hit the brakes so hard the seatbelt almost strangles him.

“What happened?” Hitoshi gasps, immediately alert.

“Dog,” you press out, jumping out of the truck and slamming the door shut.

Hitoshi watches as you cross the street in front of the car, crouching low near the shrubbery on his right. He lets two cars pass before he follows you, not seeing what made you stop in the first place.

“In here,” you tell him, one hand stretched out as if you’re offering something.

For a while, nothing happens. Then, a little snout appears from beneath one of the thicker bushes, carefully sniffling your fingertips.

It takes the dog a while to deem you safe, allowing you to pet it. Enough time for Hitoshi to get a proper look at it. It’s small, barely the size of Rust, with matted fur that’s too dirty to tell the color. The eyes are mesmerizing though, big and grey and captivating, trusting way too easily.

“It’s a male,” you figure out on the way back to the car, the dog swaddled up in your Flannel Jacket. “Can you hold him while I drive?”

“Are we going to the vet?”

“Yeah,” you open his door first. “I’ll take you home right after if it takes longer. I know you want to start your homework.”

“It’s fine,” Hitoshi decides. “I want to know what happens to this guy first.”

“Name?” The vet’s assistant asks, holding her clipboard like a weapon.

“Mud,” Hitoshi’s eyes shoot over to you, relishing in the amused quiver of your lips. “The Third.”

“Alright. Let’s get Mud the Third checked out then.”

It’s only after a well-needed bath that they realize how well-fitting the name is.

Mud’s a mutt, sharing at least some ancestry with either a pomeranian or a spitz, though his fur is a mix of different tones of brown.

He’s not chipped and in desperate need of an owner, it seems. It’s almost funny how Hitoshi doesn’t even have to ask you if you’re going to keep it. It’s a given.

Mud’s shy, curling up in the back of the box they get loaned from the vet.

“You think the cats will like him?” Hitoshi asks as he carries Mud up.

“We’ll see,” you shrug. “Let Mildew sniff him first. She’s usually more friendly with newcomers.”

But that idea dies instantly when you push the door open and Rust’s already standing there, her whole posture screaming defense.

Mud yips inside his box and to Hitoshi’s surprise, Rust responds in kind, though her voice is a lot more scratchy.

“Let him down,” you tell him quietly, opening the box when Hitoshi does so.

Rust’s inside the box before either of them has a chance to blink. Loud purring rings out from inside.

“Well,” you point out unnecessarily. “Rust likes him.”

-x- You -x-

It’s past midnight when the door to your room opens.

“Hitoshi?” You ask, a little groggy after being woken so suddenly.

“Can I sleep in here?” He asks, his voice smaller than you’re used to hearing.

“Sure,” you slide over to the wall and feel the mattress dip under his weight. He’s not yet fully under the blankets when Mildew appears at the open door as well, complaining loudly.

“Just come in,” you tell her and she seems to understand because the next thing you feel is her body settling on top of your right ankle.

Hitoshi’s quiet next to you.

“Nightmare?” You ask, not really expecting an answer.

“Something like that.” He shuffles a little closer. You reach out blindly and feel his hair under your hand, softly patting it.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“How was it for you?” He asks instead. “When you grew up here? Everyone left at some point, right?”

You’re quiet for a moment.

“Yes,” you admit finally, sinking further into the mattress. “Though some still come to visit. Remember Kotone? Or Sango?”

“Barely,” Hitoshi admits. You can feel the weight of his emotions, can barely make sense of what you see.

A muffled sound cuts you off. The door opens further and you lean over Hitoshi to switch on the light.

Rust blinks up at you, her teeth dug into Mud’s neck.

“What are you doing?” You ask, a little exasperated. She gives it no mind, jumping onto the bed with the dog yipping anxiously, scuttling off into a corner as soon as Rust lets go of him.

“He isn’t your baby, you know that, right?” You ask Rust who seems to disagree. She’s purring loudly as she curls around Mud, staring you down as if she expects you to fight her for him.

Sighing, you switch the light off again. Hitoshi hasn’t moved an inch.

“Am I allowed to do something motherly?” You ask and wait until you can feel him nod.

You sit up a little and sling an arm around his shoulders. He follows your guidance and lets his head rest in your lap. Gently you card your hands through his hair, feel some of the anxiety bleed out of him.

“I didn’t know what I was going to do with my life at your age,” you tell him. “I didn’t have a dream like you have. I have talent and a good head on my shoulders, but that was all. Masa, or Yokoyama-san, as you know her, had always been kind to me, and leaving her felt like something I just… couldn’t see myself doing. But everyone else was doing it and wouldn’t I just take up valuable space if I stayed? It was a time filled with anxiety and looking back it could have gone differently if I talked to someone about it. But I didn’t until you came along.”

“Me?” Hitoshi asks, clearly surprised.

“Yeah, you. You reminded me of myself in many ways. Of how important this line of work is and always will be. We’re both trying to help children in need, children with dangerous, misunderstood Quirks. We’re just doing it from different angles.”

“I’m doing it for myself,” Hitoshi admits, his voice laced with shame. “I didn’t think about others.”

“I know. I did it for myself at first too.”

He’s quiet, but his surprise and curiosity is palpable.

“Some people grow up not wanting children. Some people change their minds about it as they grow older. And some people, like me, always felt like parents. I… I had to parent my own mother as a child. I was good at it. I just kept doing it. I tried to be the parent I never had and when Masa became my guardian, I had a real-life example that I could follow. And it doesn’t matter if I’m your big sister or not, those feelings will never go away. I will care about you just as much in whatever form you’ll want me in your life.”

Your pajama pants grow damp as he cries, not making a sound.

You wait for him to speak up, to give you direction where he wants this conversation to go. But he doesn’t speak again, just falls asleep in your hold as exhaustion pulls him under.

You hold him a little while longer before you slowly move him off your lap and tuck him in, climbing out of bed once more to get yourself another blanket.

Mud yips as you move past him and you let him sniff your hand once more in the darkness before you fall asleep as well.

Chapter 10 Notes:

Sorry for making you wait. I was on vacation so I missed last weeks update and I had a horrible drive home but I'm here now and I will upload the new chapter in a few days to make up for it

Chapter Text

Some weeks are harder than others.

This Thursday it’s Hitoshi who stays quiet, almost lifeless, on the way home while Shouto keeps you company.

He claims he’s just tired and you let him slip away once you’re home, find him cuddled up with Mildew in your bed half an hour later when you try to call him down for Dinner.

“The training camp is drawing closer,” Shouto tells you downstairs, curiously eyeing Mud who’s not yet overcome his shyness.

“Oh, yes, I almost forgot about that.” You make a mental note to look up anything you still need to get beforehand when the doorbell rings.

You’re not expecting anyone, but a look through the peephole tells you everything you need to know. You sigh.

“One second, Shouto,” you call out before opening the door swiftly and slipping outside.

“Excited to see me?” Keigo asks, grinning.

“I’m having a visitor,” you explain, holding the door so it won’t fall shut. “So whatever this is about, make it quick.”

His brows furrow. “What kind of visitor?”

“Seventeen years old and troubled, what do you think?” You hiss. “Hitoshi’s not doing too good today, I don’t have time for any games.”

“I can be civil,” Keigo promises. “Just say I’m a friend of you.”

You sigh. “Fine. Do not bring up the F-Word though or anything related to it.”

“I wasn’t going to curse,” he jokes, grinning. His grin falters when you don’t laugh along.

“I’m not going to say anything, I promise.”

“Fine,” you open the door again and step in ahead of him. “Shouto, this is a friend of mine.”

“Hawks,” Shouto says, his voice flat even as surprise courses through him. Behind you, Keigo is almost swallowed up by a wave of guilt.

“You know each other,” you comment unnecessarily. “Great. Do you mind if he’s hanging around for a bit, Shouto, or do you want him to leave?”

“I can leave-” Keigo immediately offers.

“He can stay,” Shouto allows, turning back to the table. He might act like he couldn’t care less, but you can tell his thoughts are drifting into dangerous territory.

“Hey,” you stop beside him. “I’m always happy to have you here, Shouto, okay? I’d rather have your company than that of stinky Keigo, so feel free to kick him out.”

His eyes flicker through the room and up to the ceiling.

“You wanna go cuddle with Mildew?” You ask and he nods, sliding out of his chair. “Don’t wake up Hitoshi though, okay?” You beg him as he’s already climbing up the stairs, leaving you with Keigo and the weight of his feelings.

“What was that about?” You ask once you hear the door close behind Shouto.

“I am familiar with his family,” Keigo says and you level him with a questioning look before moving toward the coffee machine.

“You want one, right?” You ask, pulling out a cup.

“Sure.” He takes a seat at the dinner table. “You’re eating late today?”

“Hitoshi’s taking a nap,” you explain. “Like I said, he’s not doing to well. Shouto wasn’t hungry yet so we pushed it a little. Do you want something? It’s not that great but I made Chili-”

“With corn?”

“No, without.”

“Then yes. I’m not picky but I cannot stand the existence of corn.”

You laugh and hand him a bowl, take a seat across from him.

“So?” You ask. “Why did you show up unannounced?”

He eats a spoonful, no doubt to get some time to think. Surprise flickers through him at the taste and you look away, a little flustered, when he utters a compliment.

You’re thankful when he doesn’t pick up on it, though you’re sure he’ll come back to it later. Instead, he takes his time eating almost half the bowl before he answers.

“We had to reject your rival.”

One, two seconds tick by before you get what he’s referring to.

“Why?”

He sighs, drags his spoon through the Chili. “No matter how much a person says they don’t discriminate, you’d be surprised how much there still is to worry about.”

You swallow thickly. “They couldn’t deal with the Quirk?”

“That,” he nods. “And the kid's parents.”

You sigh. “Is it that bad?”

You expect him to give you his usual spiel about not being allowed to tell you anything, but he surprises you with a curt nod. “Worse,” he says.

Silence settles over the table as he finishes his bowl and asks for a refill.

Keigo waits until your back is turned to ask his next question, one you’ve seen coming the moment he appeared at your doorstep.

“Will you come meet him?”

You take your time filling his bowl, wipe a few spilled drops away before returning to the table.

“Hitoshi’s not doing too good,” you repeat once more. “This isn’t the right time-”

“Please,” he begs, his hands coming out to grasp your wrists as you try to place the bowl in front of him.

This is how Shouto finds you, storming down the stairs.

“Shinsou-san,” he pants. “Eh, Shinsou is… I think he’s throwing up.”

“Coming,” you pull your hands away, almost dropping the bowl in the process.

“Just stay here,” you urge Keigo as you rush past him and up the stairs.

You can hear Hitoshi from the hallway, his muffled retching and Mildew’s worried mewling.

“Hey,” you push the door to your bedroom open and find him leaning over the bed. Shouto must have pulled the trashcan over because it’s usually by the door. Sadly it’s not made for something like this. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Hitoshi claims weakly. “I’m just hanging out.”

“Very funny,” you joke along, stepping closer. “Have you got everything out or shall I get you a bigger bucket?”

He sinks back onto the bed, his face pale. “I don’t know.”

“No problem. Give me a second, I’ll get everything clean.” You lean forward to press a hand to his temple. “You don’t have a fever. Did you eat something questionable or is this a response to today’s events?”

“I don’t know,” Hitoshi repeats, his eyes fluttering shut.

“No problem. I’ll be back in a heartbeat. Be a peach and lift your hand for me.” You take it and let it rest on Mildew’s back, who immediately settles.

Shouto’s not as easily convinced, following you to the bathroom where you grab cleaning supplies.

Worry hangs off him like a heavy winter coat, so you stop him on the way back.

“Hitoshi’s going to be fine,” you assure him. “My cooking isn’t always the best, maybe that upset his stomach. I’m sure he’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“That’s not it-” You can feel his indecisiveness. He doesn’t know how much to tell you.

You pat his shoulder gently, trying to move past him.

“Will he get in trouble?” The words spill out of him and you can tell instantly that he didn’t mean to say them but that curiosity wins over his wish to take them back.

“No,” you answer calmly, instead of going into the details of how weird and awful it would be for Hitoshi to get into trouble for something he can’t control. “I’ll clean everything up and get him a glass of water to rinse his mouth. He can rest then unless it gets worse.”

Shouto watches you with quiet wonder.

“Do you want to get the water?” You ask and he nods, not moving.

It’s clear he wants to watch you first.

And while you can think of better things than to clean up puke while being watched you let him. You’re not sure what he went through in his life already, but if he needs this to heal, who are you to stand in the way?

Keigo leaves shortly after, asking you once more to consider his offer.

You can’t give him the answer that he wants but you fear he’s not letting that stop him.

With Hitoshi napping once more you don’t feel comfortable leaving the house, so you ask Shouto if he can call someone to pick him up.

“We have a driver,” Shouto points out quietly. “He can drive me.”

You hesitate. “No one from your family is able to pick you up if needed?”

“Fuyumi would if I asked her. Mother doesn’t have a license and Father’s not able to drive yet.”

“Fuyumi’s your sister?” You ask when he doesn’t continue. He seems surprised by your question.

“You don’t know the Todoroki family?”

“Not much,” you admit. “Should I?”

“We’ve been all over the news,” he explains.

“Oh?” You ponder it. “Todoroki… I mean it sounds familiar but that could also be because I now know you.”

“My father was the number 2 Hero, Endeavor.”

You barely manage to swallow a sound of surprise. Yes. You have heard about Endeavor.

“So you know him?”

“Yes,” you swallow a sigh as Shouto’s eyes seem to cut holes into you. “I’ve heard about Endeavor.”

“What do you think about him?”

You hesitate. It would be easy to connect with him. Your own parents haven’t been much better than Endeavor, you think. Just a different flavor of abuse. But you can’t tell him that without spoiling the secret Hitoshi has so carefully built.

Gently, you rest your hand on Shouto’s head. He’s a little taller than you, but he blinks at the affection like Rust does when you manage to pick her up.

“There are many people out there who do terrible things. And everyone I know has made mistakes. I think the rare ones are those who are trying to learn from it. But the keyword is trying. You’re the judge of that, right?”

He nods, surprised. “Yeah. I- I think he’s doing better. It’s a little too late for it, though.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Me too,” Shouto admits. He doesn’t move away so you don’t either, until he finally asks, his voice soft as snow. “Can I hug you?”

Hitosh’s still napping when you get ready for bed. You think about taking his bed instead, but when you step into your bedroom to get your sleepwear he’s blinking up at you.

“Hungry?” You ask. He shakes his head no.

“Feeling a little better?” He nods.

He doesn’t say more until you return, taking a seat next to his outstretched legs.

“We’ve been talking about the future today,” Hitoshi admits, staring up at the ceiling. “Since my internship starts right after the training camp. A-and about my injury. Did you know I could have been moved out of your care because of that?”

“I do, yes.”

His purple eyes flick to your face and back up again.

“Why weren’t you mad then?”

“I’ve learned a long time ago that getting mad doesn’t work well with my Quirk. It just makes everyone around me mad as well and nothing ever gets done that way.”

“But if I messed up real bad, what then?”

You hesitate for a second. “Well, if you ever go out of your way to be reckless or if I can tell you’re hurting others on purpose, I’d ground you and make sure you get the therapy you need.”

He snorts. “That’s not that frightening, considering I’m an introvert.”

“But it would be what you need, right?” You push a hand through your hair and smile when he leans into the touch. “Are you ready to go to sleep or do you want to do some more talking?”

“Shouto said Hawks came by.”

“Yeah,” you nod. “He’s the guy from the HPSC I told you about. He’s got a foster kid he wants me to take in.”

“Are you going to do it?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “I’d like to do it if I’m able to, but not at the cost of your well-being. So don’t even try to talk me into it if you’re not feeling good enough.”

Hitoshi nods and pats the other side of the bed, wordlessly asking you to slip in as well.

“You know you’re going to have to sleep in your own bed someday,” you tease him, leaving a gap between the two of you that will surely soon be filled by at least one of your pets.

“I didn’t have that growing up,” Hitoshi protests. “Let me have it.”

You snort but say nothing.

As soon as the light is turned off, Hitoshi speaks again.

“Do you like him? Hawks, I mean?”

You consider this. “He’s not a bad guy. I like talking to him. Why?”

He doesn’t answer for a while.

“Are you going to have your own kids someday? You’re thirty, right?”

You sigh sofly and sit up again. “How serious do you want this conversation to be?”

You can’t see him in the darkness but you can feel his gaze on you, his curiosity and the subtle, yet warm affection he has for you.

“I know I’m not a grown up but I wanna know-”

“Hitoshi,” your voice is soft, “I’m not lonely. Even when I am alone I have things that make me happy. If I find someone I like enough to settle with, great. If I don’t, nothing much changes. I don’t have to have kids of my own because it doesn’t make me more or less a parent in my eyes.”

“But Hawks?”

You’re quiet for a second. “If he’s really that much into me, which I doubt, I wouldn’t accept a date. He’s ten years younger than me and clearly not ready to become the father figure he would need to be with me being a foster parent.”

“Does he know that?”

“If he doesn’t, I’ll let him know. Were you worried about that?”

“A little,” Hitoshi admits.

“Are you worried that another foster child would take all my attention from you?”

“It would, would’t it?” Hitoshi adds. “Especially if it’s younger than me and it has to be, right?”

You nod before realizing that he can’t see it.

“Yes. The kid’s about to get their Quirk. And you’re right, you would lose a lot of my attention but not my affection. Does that make sense?”

He sighs now. You can tell he’s trying to settle his own feelings. Worry, jealousy, anxiety, all bubbling under the comfort of knowing you.

“Can’t you get to know them?” Hitoshi offers. “Like, meet them and see what all the fuss is about? I trust that you’d know if we could work together.”

You laugh softly. “Fine. I’ll try my best.”

Chapter 11 Chapter Text

-x- Shinsou Hitoshi -x-

Whoever thought it was a good idea to put Class 1-A and Class 1-B in one single Bus to take them to the training Camp is either a Sadist or plain stupid.

Hitoshi had arrived pretty early, hoping to secure a window seat only to find out that Aizawa-Sensei and Kan-Sensei had decided to leave their seating arrangements up to fate.

“There will come a time and place when you cannot choose your partner in battle,” Kan-Sensei reminds them with a grave voice. “You know that. Now, first row, Aoyama Yuga, Shinsou Hitoshi, Pony Tsunotori and Nirengeki Shoda. Second row…”

It’s not that he dislikes Aoyama. He could like him, for sure, if he’d just keep his mouth closed for longer than five minutes on end.

It only gets better when Aoyama gets carsick, though now that he’s sitting a little closer to the other side of the bus, he can hear Tsunotori chatting away.

Somewhere behind him, Monoma seems to be intent on riling up Bakugo and his friends and Hitoshi would admire such dedication if the commotion wouldn’t intensify his growing headache.

“You look pale,” a smooth voice comments from behind him. “Are you well?”

When he turns, he finds Shiozaki gazing down at him.

“I’m fine,” he tells her, though it doesn’t seem very convincing.

“Do you need medicine? Juzo brought some with him.”

“Just a headache, I probably didn’t drink enough water,” he tells her, trying not to make a fuss about it. She nods, moving away only to return once more with a bottle of pills in her hand. “Take one,” she urges him. “These are plant based. I also have something for Aoyama, if he needs it.”

“Probably more than me,” Hitoshi tells her, uncomfortable with this amount of care.

“What’s going on?” Someone calls from the back. “Shiozaki, are you nursing everyone again?”

“I’m just trying to help,” Shiozaki defends herself and Hitoshi takes the pills from her, hoping it will end this discussion. Shiozaki leaves him with another curt nod and he turns back to the front to find Aizawa napping and Kan-Sensei in a muffled discussion with the driver.

“I bet she has a crush on you,” Tsunotori tells him with a smirk. “Shiozaki likes quiet guys.”

“Oh but I’m not quiet,” Hitoshi tells her pointedly before turning away. If she keeps going like this, he’ll walk to the back and ask Jiro for her headphones, he really will.

The bus drops them off at the bottom of a steep incline.

If they want to participate in the training camp, they need to locate it first and then make it there before nightfall. None of his classmates seems surprised by this, though Hitoshi feels a little ill-prepared for this Quest. What’s he going to do? Force his teachers to spill the location?

Aizawa-Sensei seems to sense his idea because he shakes his head slightly.

“Before you go all out with your Quirks and destroy this lovely forest, you’ll come together in teams. You’re 41 students, so I expect nine teams to four students and one group of five students. Each team has to have an equal number of Class 1-A and Class 1-B students. And no, Kaminari, that does not include the team with the uneven number of students. You’ve got five minutes to choose your teammates. Go.”

Hitoshi’s still rooted in his spot when Monoma grabs him by the elbow. “You’re with me,” he declares, pulling him away. “Now where’s that bird guy of yours?”

“Tokoyami?”

“Here,” his classmate peeks around Shoji’s body. “You’re looking for me?”

“Want to join our team?” Monoma offers him his hand to shake. “Shihai’s with me, so we’d be an even team.”

Tokoyami considers it for a second before shaking his hand. “Fine by me. What’s our strategy?”

They end up reaching the camp second, finding another surprising mix of Mineta, Koda, Shishida and Shoda.

“We wouldn’t have been as quick without Koda,” Shoda praises him, “though I have to admit I was a little taken aback at first when Mineta approached me. He’s got good ideas, though.”

“Course I have,” Mineta crows. “All the animals know where the camp is, we just need someone to translate it for us.”

“One might say what they want about you,” Monoma tells him, making it a point to look down his nose at the smaller boy, “but at least you’re very skilled in profiting off your classmates' talents.”

“H-hey!” Mineta protests but Monoma has already passed him, moving for the showers.

“Let’s get freshened up.”

“Not so fast,” Kan-Sensei steps in his way. “Now that you’re here you can start on Dinner.”

“A punishment for our win?” Monoma asks, clearly peeved. “Besides, Blasty Boy will not be happy with my food either way.”

“In case you haven’t figured it out yet,” Aizawa-Sensei comments, appearing behind Kan-Sensei. “This training camp is supposed to teach you about working together. Rivalries are important in pushing you to get better, but if you don’t know how to work together you’ll not make it far.”

“Fine,” Monoma huffs, grabbing one of the aprons. “But I’m not peeling potatoes. I had to do that last year.”

It’s Hitoshi who ends up peeling Potatoes, since they all agree with Tokoyami that Curry will be the easiest and most filling meal to make.

He’s barely made a dent into the pile of potatoes when Ochako appears. He had no doubt she’d be quick with this kind of exercise, though he’s surprised they made it in before her.

“We ran into some problems,” she admits. “But I’m not going to let that stop me!” Her usual drive makes him chuckle to himself even as she joins Koda who’s cutting the Onions, claiming that they never make her cry anyway.

“Say, Shinsou-kun,” Mineta sidles up to him. “Do you have a crush on Ochako? I could understand that, she’s a pretty girl, but I think you’d be fighting a losing battle. Everyone knows she and Izuku are pretty much a couple.”

Hitoshi snorts. “I’m friends with her, that’s all. But thanks for the advice.”

“I, personally, think that everyone goes for someone like their best friend,” Monoma adds from where he’s cutting carrots. He refuses to peel them, so he’s making quick work on them.

“Are you saying he’s gay?” Mineta asks, ready to duke it out for Class 1-A’s newest addition, it seems.

Monoma laughs. “No, I merely said that he might go for someone like his best friend. Am I wrong, Hitoshi?”

It surprises him that Monoma’s adressing him by his first name, but he’s not letting it show. The question itself is even more surprising. He considers it for a second, peeling another potato.

“Well, my best friend’s Denki, but I don’t think I could live with a partner that’s as bubbly as he is.”

A shadow travels over Monoma’s face, too quick to catch it. When it’s gone, the other boy lowers his face to glare at his carrots instead.

“Well, not everyone has great taste,” he comments, though it lacks his usual bite.

Hitoshi exchanges a curious look with Mineta who shrugs, clearly as lost as he is.

“What would be your ideal partner be in that scenario?” He tries to keep the conversation going, though Monoma pretends not to hear him and is aided in that by Bakugo appearing, as usual in the loudest manner possible.

He’s got Kirishima with him, as well as Tetsutetsu and Fukidashi and he’s clearly pissed about not being the first at camp.

Now all he needs to see is the unpeeled carrots on Monoma’s table and the chaos is complete.

Hitoshi can’t sleep.

It’s not his fault, he thinks. He’s never been able to sleep well in unfamiliar places.

The fact that they had Kuroiro and Tokoyami on their team and could fly all the way up to the camp doesn’t help him either. He’s not as tuckered out as the rest of his classmates.

Around midnight, he can’t take it any longer.

The boys are sharing one big room and Shishida is snoring so loud Hitoshi can feel the floor vibrate beneath him.

He slips out of bed and out the door, his eyes used to the dark.

Maybe if he’ll get some fresh air he can sleep better?

The sky is breathtaking. He can’t remember when he’s last seen this many stars twinkling above him.

Hitoshi reaches for his phone on instinct, coming up empty. Of course. They had to leave their phones with the teachers for the week.

He wonders what you’re doing right now. Probably sleeping.

Unless. Unless Hawks has been visiting again.

Maybe Foster Parent Number two has also fallen through and you’ve already met the new kid today. Fallen in love with him or her like you did with Hitoshi all those years ago.

Maybe he’s already been replaced and he just doesn’t know it yet. Maybe- “Hey.”

Hitoshi reacts on instinct, turning on his right foot and thrusting his palm forward, aiming for the solar plexus. His aim is a little off, but he’s rewarded with a pained grunt and the unmistakable sound of gagging just as he recognizes the pale blond hair shining in the moonlight..

“Monoma?!” He asks, shocked.

“Who else?” The boy grunts, doubled over. “Why did you hit me like that?”

“Why did you sneak up on me like that?”

“You just disappeared and didn’t come back. I was worried.”

“Worried,” Hitoshi repeats, a little dumbfounded. “I could have been using the toilet.”

“Are you?” Monoma raises his head, grinning up at him despite the fact that he’s clearly still in pain. “Peeing outside like a savage? Don’t let Bakugo now.”

Hitoshi laughs, offering him his arm. There’s a little bench right by the front door and Monoma stretches out on it, trying to breath calmly.

“Solar plexus, right? Did Aizawa teach you that?”

“Yeah. Sorry I freaked out.”

“Sorry, I freaked you out.”

“Well, at least you kept me from spiraling into a panic attack.” Hitoshi admits, regretting it immediately.

Monoma’s answer is soft though, not the least bit teasing. “You get them often?”

Hitoshi lowers himself to the ground, facing away from him. It’s easier to be open that way. “Sometimes. You?”

“Oh, yeah.” Monoma laughs. “And at the worst possible time, too.” He’s quiet for a moment, probably gathering his thoughts. “What brought it on this time?”

“It’s stupid,” Hitoshi deflects, wishing to drop the subject. To his surprise, Monoma seems to go along, humming low under his breath. But now that they’re quiet, he feels the need to talk again, his fingers curled around the hem of his pajama pants.

“When we were preparing dinner,” Hitoshi starts, swallowing. “You reacted kinda weird. You know? When I said that Denki’s my best friend and I don’t think I’d want to date a person like that.”

“Yeah, I know.” Monoma’s voice is soft again.

“What was that?”

“I’m not going to just admit that to you,” Monoma tells him curtly. “Not unless you admit something stupid in return.”

Hitoshi snorts. “What do you want to know? I’ve done a lot of stupid stuff.”

Silence. He turns his head slightly to find Monoma looking at him.

“What?” Hitoshi asks, uncomfortable under his gaze.

Monoma sits up and directs his eyes at the trees in the distance, their crowns barely visible against the dark sky.

“You’re living at Yokoyama-san’s place, right?” Monoma asks, his voice soft, though the question’s enough to keep Hitoshi from breathing.

When he does again, the air feels like it has less oxygen and he’s sucking in more and more, hoping it will get rid of the tightness in his chest.

The slap comes out of nowhere, leaving his cheek stinging.

“What was that for?” He asks, hissing.

“You were hyperventilating,” Monoma points out. “Say thank you.”

“Thank you,” Hitoshi grumbles, staring ahead. His bare feet dig into the ground beneath him.

“Yeah,” he admits then, just to get it over with. “That panic attack alone was proof enough, wasn’t it? I’m living at Yokoyama-san’s place. But not with her, with her daughter.”

“Yeah,” Monoma nods. “I recognized her the first time you took the same train as I did.” He’s sitting down again, arms folded on his legs. “I spent some time with her, after the war. They couldn’t find my parents.”

“You didn’t say anything.”

Monoma shrugs. “I’m not as heartless as I pretend to be. Well, not… not with friends, at least.”

He eyes him for a second and Hitoshi feels uncomfortable again. He’s not made for these kinds of deep talks, he feels, but getting up and leaving would be the worst thing to do right now.

“I thought we were friends, you know,” Monoma admits. “That’s why I was surprised when you said Denki’s your best friend. Should have known, but-” He shrugs, badly faking his carelessness, “it would have been nice to have a best friend.”

“I think you can have more than one best friend,” Hitoshi disagrees. “And it’s not your fault Denki and I are closer. Denki’s just pushier. Extroverts adopt introverts, you know.”

“Right,” Monoma laughs. “But you call him by his first name. You have a weird way with names too, I noticed. Shouto gets called by his first name, but Midoriya doesn’t?”

“Midoriya would start crying if I called him by his first name,” Hitoshi deflects. “He’s…” He hesitates. “I think I admire him a little too much to call him by his first name. I owe him a lot. Calling him by his last name is a sign of respect.”

Monoma considers that. “And Shouto?”

“Well, for starters, I think he prefers it. There are a lot of Torodoki’s out there already, but only one Shouto. Plus, he keeps inviting himself over to play with my cats and it would feel weird calling him by his last name when he’s napping on my bed with my cat on his lap.”

Monoma snorts. “I’d love to see that.”

Silence settles again, but this time it’s a comfortable one. Suddenly, a pale hand appears in front of Hitoshi.

“Neito,” Monoma tells him pointedly. “Call me Neito. I’m your other best friend now.”

Hitoshi laughs. “Hello Neito, nice to meet you.”

Chapter 12 Chapter Text

-x- You -x-

It’s weird to have the house this quiet. To cook only for yourself.

Even the pets are wary at first, puttering around the house looking for Hitoshi.

Hitoshi left Saturday morning and by Monday you already feel like you’re going crazy.

So when Keigo calls you don’t think twice about accepting his offer to go for coffee.

“How’s Foster Parent Number two?” You ask once you’ve found a table. “Or was I Number two and they’re Number three?”

He laughs. “They’re Number two. You don’t have a Number. They’ve got all the necessary information, still felt able to foster the kid and had a chance to meet them twice so far.”

“And?” There is no sign of him being happy about it, though that might have to do with the distance thing.

“It might be too early to judge, but the kid doesn’t like them.”

“Well, where are they living now? If they’re-”

“No,” Keigo shakes his head. “He-” He shuts up immediately, closing his eyes. “Fuck!” He hisses. “Did you really just get me to slip up?”

You wait for him to gather himself. It takes a while.

“Let’s go,” Keigo finally commands, getting up. “Leave your coffee, I’ll get you a new one.”

He moves to take you by the arm but you pull back, raising your eyebrows. “I’m capable of walking on my own. Lead the way, Takami-san.”

He’s quiet as he walks down the street, calling a cab. He’s quiet as he lets you get in first, muttering the address to the driver.

It’s only when you get out again and he leads you up the stairs to a modern, almost soulless apartment building, that he speeks again.

“This is where I live,” he explains as he closes the front door behind you. “Here we can speak without having to worry.”

“You’re the one talking about important stuff in public,” you tease him lightly, but he doesn’t pick up on it. Instead, he gestures for you to walk down the hallway and into what you assume is his office. The walls are covered in news articles.

“I’m not crazy,” Keigo explains. “I have my reasons. Years ago, I was tasked to infiltrate the League of Villains. You might have heard about this group, they are responsible for-”

“The war,” you nod, “I know.”

“Shigaraki Tomura was their leader. He was born as Shimura Tenko and I have reason to believe that his Quirk was altered. His master, known as All For One, has the ability to do just that. He was raised as his successor, as his vessel, so to speak.”

You notice a picture and move to pick it from the wall. “Todoroki,” you say, phrasing it less as a question than a statement.

“Yes,” Keigo’s usually suave voice crumbles with just that little world.

You take one look around the room, let his feelings wash over you. They’re intense, multi-faceted in a way you’re too familiar with.

“Oh, Keigo,” you say, finally understanding. “You’ve had a terrible childhood, didn’t you?”

His eyes turn glossy when he catches your gaze.

“How did you figure that out?” He asks, laughing a little, though it’s scratchy and empty of emotion.

You shrug. “It takes one to know one. You’ve read my file, I guess, haven’t you?”

It’s his turn to shrug. “Yeah. It’s why I knew I wanted you for the kid.”

You’re about to answer when he mutters: “And for me too.”

Your heart is heavy. “You don’t really want me, Keigo. Not like that.”

Stubbornly, he pushes his chin forward. “These are my feelings. You can’t tell me what I’m feeling.”

“Wrong. I’m probably the only person capable of doing that.” You hesitate before taking a step forward and putting your pointer finger on his chest. “I’m a mother figure to you.”

His eyes widen at your statement. “I’m not- That’s not true!”

“It is. You adore the way I care for Hitoshi, even Shouto. You wish I could care the same way for you. But even though we keep craving what we didn’t get as children doesn’t mean that that’s what we need in our partner. I’m looking for a partner to parent my children with, not another child to parent.”

“Ouch.”

“Oh, don’t give me that,” you tell him, your voice soft. “You know it, I can tell. You knew I wouldn’t give in to your flirting, that’s why you kept doing it.” You eye him for a second before taking another look at the room.

“If I had to guess there’s someone else you like. Someone whose opinion of you is so important to you that you don’t dare to confess, or even think about it in that context. Being vulnerable is risky.”

“I don’t like you reading me like that,” Keigo points out, crossing his arms in front of his chest and pushing you away like that. “Why don’t I return the favor?”

“Be my guest,” you allow him. “I’m sure it will do us both good.”

“You’re into Aizawa.”

Your mouth falls open. “I-” You squawk before catching yourself, laughing. “Well, it’s true, I guess. I am interested in him despite him being an insufferable prick to me. It’s probably the way he is with Hitoshi.”

Keigo’s jaw grinds as he takes your second victory in stride.

“The real reason you didn’t agree to taking in the kid isn’t just because of Hitoshi. You’re afraid it will be the same again, you caring too much and him being taken away again.”

Your head shoots up at that. He’s put the finger right where it hurts and it takes you a painful second to get a reign on your emotions again, just enough time for them to wash over Keigo.

“Ouch,” he mumbles again. “So that’s what you are feeling.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “I thought I had- but I guess not.”

“What?”

Your smile is fake but it still stretches over your face. “Always the sister, never the mother. Always the lover, never a bother.”

Keigo cocks his head to the side and you swallow thickly. “It’s what my mom used to say, Yokoyama Masa, you know? When I was smaller still, and would cry about the other kids leaving. It was supposed to make me feel better, shake me out of my modus operandi, so to speak. I’m allowed to be something different, she used to say.”

Keigo nods and lets his arms settle by his side again before turning back to the wall.

“Well, are you ready to be a mother? This guy needs you.”

“Shigaraki Tomura?”

“His son,” Keigo explains simply. “Shimura Tenko.”

The air is filled with the delighted screams of playing children.

It’s not that hard to spot little Tenko. He’s pale skinned and dark haired, keeping to himself as he sits on a blanket in the shadow of a large oak, going through a picture book.

“Why is he not playing with the other kids?” You ask, taking a sip from your coffee as you keep walking.

“He’s not that good at socializing,” Keigo explains. “An introvert, but also… we couldn’t allow him to be adopted by just anyone and the other kids have picked up on it.”

Your heart goes out to him but you can’t allow yourself to meet him yet, not when you haven’t had a chance to talk about this with Hitoshi.

“Does he know you?”

“Yes,” Keigo nods. “I’m weird Uncle Keigo. I like to make time to play with him.”

“His parents,” you ask, unable to stifle your curiosity. “Didn’t they have friends?”

“They have. Most of them are dead. The others are in jail. You also have to understand-” Keigo hesitates for a second, looking around, “that he wasn’t conceived willingly. It was a ploy from All for One to make sure there would always be a vessel for him, even if Shigaraki failed.”

You sigh. “The poor boy. But… these friends, in jail…”

“Yes?”

You exhale loudly. “I would like to meet them.”

Keigo’s head snaps around to look at you. “What for?” He asks, clearly outraged. “These are criminals, they’ve-”

“They’ve cared about his father,” you cut him off. “They’ll care about his son. And doesn’t every kid deserve to know about their parents, for better or for worse?”

“Would you want that?” He asks, still fuming. “To know all the bad things your father has done?”

“I wouldn’t ask about all the crimes,” you admit. “I’d ask all the other things I never got to learn. What he liked for breakfast. If he kept smoking after he left us. If his favorite song ever changed. Things like that.”

Keigo calms down a little. “I suppose I can’t change your mind on that.”

“You can try, but you won’t succeed.”

“Aizawa speaking,” his voice is as dry as ever and yet you feel more nervous at the sound of it than you’ve felt before. You blame it on Keigo’s earlier comment and force your own heart to calm down.

“Hi,” you swallow again. “It’s me. I, uh, is this a bad time to call?”

“Is there ever a good time to call?” Aizawa asks back and you immediately regret your decision.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“It can’t be changed. For the future, I prefer to text. Now, how can I help you?”

You force another deep breath. “I’m aware of Shimura Tenko and I’d like to talk about it with you.”

There’s commotion on his end of the line, some muttering and then silence.

“Hello?” You ask and are rewarded with his deep drawl again.

“Woman, next time you drop a jumpscare on me like that, warn me before.”

You roll your eyes. “Man,” you tell him pointedly, “I wasn’t aware you had a weak constitution.”

“You know now. So did Hawks get you to change your mind?”

“Second parent fell through,” you explain. “He slipped up explaining it and it lead to me finding out.”

“He slipped up, huh?” Aizawa drawls and you snap.

“Excuse me? I don’t know what business you have being jealous but I can tell that you are even without my Quirk working on you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he blurts back. “Does it make you uncomfortable that I care about Hitoshi’s possible future father figure?”

“If you cared at all you would have already figured out he’s trying to set the two of us up,” you tell him off, only to regret it immediately. “Forget I said anything. I’ll talk to someone else about this.”

“Wait,” he asks, his voice constrained. “Wait, okay? I’m sorry. I noticed too.”

You calm down a little. “Well, and?”

“Nothing and, I tried to distance myself, if you haven’t noticed.”

You swallow thickly. “I have noticed. I hope you and your girlfriend will be very happy.”

“What girlfriend?” He asks, confusion lacing his voice. “What did Hitoshi tell you now?”

You groan. “That lady you went out for coffee. I’m sorry if I was assuming.”

He laughs. He laughs and laughs and you can’t do anything but sit there, your phone pressed against your ear, feeling utterly stupid.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” he adds when he’s finally stopped laughing, “But I am about as close to dating her as I am to opening a dance studio.”

“Weird comparison,” you mutter. “But I’ll take it. And not that it’s any of your business, but I’m about as close to dating Keigo as I am to becoming a Professional Hero. Hope that clears everything up.”

“It does, thank you.” There’s an audible smile in his voice and you can’t help but smile as well, despite your best efforts to contain it.

“Well, now that we have that settled, I’d like to talk about Tenko. Do you have a minute?”

“Sure. What about him?”

You hesitate for a second. “I’d like to take him in, if possible, but I don’t know if it’s the right choice. I just… I’d like to get the opinion from someone who knows Hitoshi.”

He’s quiet for a while. “Do you think they’d work well together?”

“Two boys, both introverts, yes, I do think they’d work well together. But I haven’t been by his side when… all that happened. There are a lot of people who will not react kindly to his parentage.”

“As soon as you adopt him, you can legally change his last and first name if needed. It will be harder to figure out when the name doesn’t match up. And most people are not aware about his real name, they only know the name he went by as a villain.”

“I don’t care about other people. I care about Hitoshi.”

Silence, again. Then: “I’ll talk to him.”

“I should do that myself.”

“I know,” Aizawa’s voice has turned softer and it surprises you enough to listen to him. “But I’ll get a feeling of it. Don’t worry. I’ll call you back in the next days.”

-x- Aizawa Shouta -x-

He catches Hitoshi after breakfast. They’ve got about twenty minutes before the next training session starts and he’s pulled him to the side before, for some additional pointers, so no one bats an eye when he’s doing it now.

“I’ve heard something you might want to know,” he tells Hitoshi as they reach the little office at the back of the building. “Sit.”

“What is it?” Hitoshi’s not willing to sit. “Is it something with Mom? My sister?”

“I heard there’s a possibility of you getting a future sibling.”

Hitoshi sits instantly, staring up at him. “Did she call you? She did, didn’t she?”

Shouta sighs. This is going to be harder than he thought.

He considers lying for about a second, but then he discards that thought. It’s already hard enough, gaining and keeping Hitoshi’s trust, he can’t abuse it now.

“She did, yes.” He settles in his own chair and regrets it immediately. Somehow, he’s not sure why, he needs to be closer. So he gets up and takes a seat on the edge of his desk, looking down at Hitoshi. “She thinks you would work well together, the two of you. Two boys, both introverts, that’s what she said.”

Hitoshi sighs. “I mean I could have dealt with a little Kaminari, I think, but I can’t lie. I do prefer quieter kids.”

Shouta scoffs. “Listen to you, being picky about your siblings.”

Hitoshi grins. “I get to be, so I am. Did she say anything else?”

“Yes,” Shouta swallows but his mouth still feels too full when he speaks up again. “She’s serious about this. If you don’t feel ready sharing her, she won’t do it.”

Hitoshi immediately falters. “She can’t make me decide that,” he protests. “I’m just… I’ll leave soon, won’t I?”

“You will? That’s news to me.”

“You stay in Foster Care until you turn eighteen, right? There’s no reason to keep me after that.”

Shouta sighs. “Believe me when I say that you can stay with your sister for as long as you want. If you only dare to mutter a word about it, she’ll have you move in with your partner when it’s time. Help raise your children if needed.”

Hitoshi frowns. “Sure,” he mutters. Shouta leans further in, forces him to look at him. “Believe me. I mean it.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter, right?” Hitoshi pushes out. “You can tell her she should adopt the boy. If she says we’ll work well together, I believe her.”

“I’m doing no such thing. You’ll have to talk to her about it yourself. I’m just here to gauge your reaction, prepare you for it. Say, this kid has a dangerous quirk. How would you feel about it then?”

Hitoshi hesitates for a second before he scoffs. “Please. How dangerous?”

“League of Villain Type Dangerous.”

Hitoshi falls quiet. Shouta can see the gears working.

“It can’t be Todoroki’s kid,” Hitoshi points out. “Because then Hawks would approach their family for sure. Spinner and Compress Quirks aren’t dangerous enough to be considered. Kurogiri-” He stops himself. “It’s Shigaraki, isn’t it?”

Shouta sighs. “Why are you so damn quick in a normal conversation but can’t finish your English Homework in time?”

“It is,” Hitoshi calls out, getting up. “It’s Shigaraki’s kid. That’s why Hawks had to be so secretive about it.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny such rumours,” Shouta tells him politely. “All I said is that it’s on their level of dangerous. Now, will you sit down again and give me your opinion?”

“Midoriya is going to lose it,” Hitoshi mutters but takes his seat again. And then, the realization dawns on him. “He could kill her, right? Everyone, with just one touch.”

Shouta doesn’t answer. He lets Hitoshi process it on his own.

The minutes tick by as Hitoshi stares at the wall, no doubt spiraling.

Shouta’s hand lands heavy on his shoulder.

“You’re in your head, kid,” he reminds him softly. “Don’t think about things that haven’t happened yet and will most likely never happen.”

Hitoshi stands, his posture awkward. Following an instinct, Shouta wraps his arms around him surprised to feel the boy sink into him.

“If I had any reason to be afraid of this,” he mutters into Hitoshi’s ear, “I’d let you know. Now, take a deep breath, get rid of these useless worries, and go out to kick ass, okay?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Wrong,” Shouta keeps him pressed to his chest. “I’m not a Sir to you.”

“Yes, Shouta.”

“Good, you can leave now.”

Chapter 13 Chapter Text

They’ll leave the Camp tomorrow. Although it’s been hard work, and he misses you, Hitoshi can’t say he’s eager to leave. He feels better here. Like he’s doing what he’s meant to be doing.

Mina walks from group to group during cook-time, a weird smile on her face.

She stops next to Hitoshi. He’s been peeling the potatoes every single night so far and although he keeps complaining about it, Neito has kept him company each time.

“We’re sneaking out,” she announces quietly, shushing Denki who’s almost as bad with a potato peeler as he is with a knife. “Half an hour after the teachers turn off the lights. Momo is on snack duty, so you don’t need anything.”

“What for?” Neito asks, his upper lip curled. “Just to get in trouble? Is that how Class A operates?”

“No, you idiot,” Mina hisses, looking out for the teachers. “I talked with one of the Pro Heroes who live here and apparently it’s custom to do that. Everyone sneaks out and then, when we gather, we share a secret.”

Hitoshi frowns. “What kind of secret?”

“Well, you’ve got time to think of one. I’m sure a few of the guys will confess their crushes,” Mina giggles, rubbing her hands. “I’m so excited.”

“What if you don’t want to confess a crush?” Denki asks, clearly nervous.

“What if you don’t have a crush to confess?” Neito adds.

“What if you don’t have secrets?” Hitoshi adds, just to be annoying.

Mina groans. “Don’t be spoilsports. I’m sure you’ll be able to think of something!”

She leaves them for the next group and Hitoshi’s more than thankful for Denki’s usual babbling, even if it’s about his current crush, because it keeps him from spiraling.

Hitoshi considers sneaking out a little earlier, just to get lost on purpose.

Neito seems to read his thoughts, stopping him on the way back to their rooms.

“You’re close with Aizawa-Sensei, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You could spill that secret. Tell us that you’ve slept over too many times to count and that you’ve seen him in Hello Kitty sleepwear or something.”

“I don’t think that’s going to count.”

“Please,” Neito rolls his eyes. “We can’t spend hours policing everyone’s secrets out there. Just think of someone like Iida, he’s not going to have the most exciting secret either.”

Hitoshi would like to disagree, just based on a feeling, but he doesn’t. Instead, he pats Neito’s shoulder.

“Thank you. You’re a good friend.”

“Ah, you could call me one of the best.”

Someone trips over him way too early, but no one can fake being asleep any longer.

They even manage to drag Iida along, though he keeps talking about the importance of a proper sleep schedule.

Hitoshi feels like he’s swallowed lead. He wants to turn back around, no, scratch that, he wants to go back home. He hasn’t been able to talk to you for a week. What if you went and picked up that kid now that even Aizawa thinks he’s going to be okay with it?

“So, who’s going to start?” Mina asks, interrupting his thoughts. She’s clearly the most eager to do this, rubbing her hands in anticipation of all the secrets that will be revealed.

“You start if you’re so eager to do it,” someone barks and Mina’s face falls. “No way, that’s lame.”

Kendo clears her throat, stepping forward. “I’ve talked to Momo. Since not everyone has a secret to reveal or feels ready to talk about a crush - especially if said crush is sitting amongst us - we’ve decided that you can also tell an embarrassing story about yourself. I’m sure everyone can agree with this.”

Mina doesn’t seem to happy about it, but neither she nor anyone else disagrees.

Hitoshi can feel himself breathe a little easier and finds himself sitting back. To his left, barely managing to hide behind Denki, Koda sighs out in relief.

Right, Hitoshi thinks. He’s not the only one who doesn’t like his stuff being broadcasted. He’s going to be fine.

“I-I’d like to start,” Momo straightens. “If no one else feels ready-”

“Fuck off,” Bakugo barks. “I’m ready!”

Snickers are heard, but he springs up and stomps into their makeshift circle, staring them down. “No one’s going to say I’m a fucking coward! I’ll tell you an embarassing story about myself.”

There are some ooh’s and aah’s and of course, Midoriya’s muttered “Kacchan” but Bakugo ignores it, blundering on about how he was a little kid and he fell into a river and he needed help getting out.

“That’s your embarrassing story?” Mina asks, clearly dumbfounded. “That’s not even interesting!”

“Shut up!” Bakugo barks, clearly flustered. Or whatever the explosive equivalent of it is. “It’s important to me.”

“Aw,” Mina placates him before giving him a feral grin. “Still, you especially need to give it another go. Tell us who you have a crush on! Go!.”

Bakugo turns red, pales and turns red again as if he’s just gotten a new Quirk. Finally, he opens his mouth and presses out words Hitoshi would never have thought possible by him.

“I used to have a crush,” he admits, sounding like someone who’s trying to eat his words right as he speaks them. “On Izuku’s Mom.”

“My Mom?!” Midoriya squeaks, clearly shocked. “W-Why? K-Kacchan?”

“What?!” Bakugo barks, walking back to his place. “Like I need a reason?! And don’t tell you didn’t want to steal my Dad the minute you met him!”

“T-That’s different!”

“So Midoriya’s Mom is Bakugo’s type,” Mineta concludes, rushing to get out of the danger zone immediately.

“Moving on!” Kendo yells over the commotion. “I’ll go next!

Time goes by quickly after that, students almost screaming over each other in their haste to get it over with.

Bondo admits to having a secret girlfriend in the General Course and Koda admits he’s got confessed to in Middle School but ran away because he didn’t know what to say.

Mineta surprises them by admitting that he wants to change, that he’s grown to see clearer that his father isn’t the role model he thought he was.

Neito admits to an embarrassing episode in Middle School and Denki retells the story of him short circuiting the power supply in his hometown for a whole day.

Hitoshi opens his mouth to reminisc about the one time Yamada-Sensei walked in on him changing and made it way too awkward but Shoji beats him too it.

“I’ve been thinking about rekindling my relationship with my parents,” he offers and it’s like he’s switched a flip, everyone turning silent.

“Are you sure?” Tokoyami asks.

“I am,” Shoji nods. “I know we haven’t had the best relationship before since my Mutation is much more severe than theirs, but I’ve made a name for myself. I know who I am. I don’t want to be just someone living in their basement anymore, I want to try and make them see me as their son again. Someone they can be proud of.”

Silence follows his admission. Everyone knows that Shoji just turned their silly confessions around, opened the door to a more serious tone. But will they accept it? Will they take the invitation?

Hitoshi looks around. He’s familiar with these guys, has fought with them, has seen them give their all. Even Aoyama, who talks too much even when he’s about to puke all over himself, who lied and betrayed them, is someone he feels he can trust nowadays.

His mouth opens and before it can close again, he speaks.

“A few months ago, my neighbours contacted the police because they noticed I was living alone.” A few people turn to look at him. Denki’s practically vibrating next to him, but Hitoshi focuses on what he can see of Shoji’s face, the soothing kindness in his large eyes.

“So I had to go back into Foster Care. It’s my fourth time now and I don’t think my Mother will turn it around again. So the woman you saw… who dropped me off at the joined training, that’s not my older sister. She’s my Foster Mom.”

Kodai, with her quiet voice and calm face, moves forward, her eyes on him. “I’m in Foster Care too,” she admits. “Have been for over five years now. T-That’s not what I originally wanted to confess, but I know how you feel about it.”

Hitoshi blows out his breath through his nose.

“I’m going to get a little sibling soon,” he admits, knows that he’s telling them too much, but her eyes are gentle and the Silence feels too awkward to be left alone. “Not sure how I feel about that.”

“It’s the greatest thing in the world to have a sibling!” Iida assures him from afar. “Believe me.”

Hitoshi snorts but manages to bite his lip before he starts an argument about that. After all, Iida only knows what it means to be the younger brother.

“I am losing my Quirk.”

All eyes are on Midoriya now, who’s blushing, hands pressed against his cheeks as if he considers taking back his words.

“It’s… a long story. But my secret is that I’m losing my Quirk. It’s like a fire that has been blown out and all you’re left with is the embers. They won’t burn forever.”

“Idiot,” Bakugo barks. “Couldn’t you have told us a different secret?”

“So you knew?” Shouto asks, turning toward Bakugo first, then Midoriya. “Why haven’t you told me?”

Midoriya shrugs. “I- I haven’t… I’m still coming to terms with it. The teachers know, of course. We’re thinking of solutions.”

“Well if anyone can become a Quirkless Hero, it’s Midoriya,” Neito comments and Hitoshi’s quite sure he’s never been so proud of his friend than he has in this moment, knowing just how easy it would have been to turn it into an insult.

“Yeah,” Ochako adds, pumping up her fist. “I think we need more change in this society! Quirkless Hero’s, Heteromorph Heroes, Heroes with seemingly villainous Quirks!”

“Kero!” Tsuyu agrees. “I believe we have the ability to change things.”

Hitoshi looks around. Forgotten are the fights, the rivalries. Sure, Midoriya is crying, but that’s the norm. Most of his classmates are making plans now, talking about the things they want to change and how they’ll do it.

“We’re losing track of this thing,” Mina eventually pops up. “And we’re getting too loud. If the teachers hear us-”

“They’ll ask you what the hell you think you’re doing,” a voice booms behind her.

They all turn in unison. Kan-Sensei is looking downright murderous, while Aizawa-Sensei clearly regrets that he’s been woken up for this.

“It’s a custom,” Mina defends them. “T-To share secrets on your last night.”

“And if you’re told it’s custom to jump of a cliff you’d do that too?” Kan-Sensei barks, gesturing wildly. “Into your beds, all of you. I expect to you see you up and training at dawn and if one of you complains about being tired, we’ll leave you here to figure out a way back home, do you understand me?”

“Understood, Sir!” His students bark.

Class A, however, eyes their Homeroom Teacher and the creepy smile dancing on his lips.

“Don’t worry,” Aizawa-Sensei tells them. “You’ll find out your punishment soon enough. Now, get to your beds before I get creative.”

Hitoshi manages to catch up with his teacher on the way inside, brushing his elbow with his own almost on accident.

“How much did you hear?” He asks.

Shouta throws him a look. “Don’t play nice with me, Hitoshi. You’re still going to get punished.”

“But you’re proud of us, aren’t you?”

There’s barely any movement to Shouta’s lips, but even in the faint moon light Hitoshi can tell that they’re quirking up.

-x- You -x-

The braceletes are sleek, but heavy.

“It’s procedure,” Keigo explains as he leads the way. “No interference through any Quirk and yours is especially delicate.”

“No, I understand,” you tell him. “You need to make sure this works on its own. What mother would I be if I had to use my Quirk to convince him?”

Keigo smiles, but you can tell he’s nervous, even without your Quirk.

The Orphanage is small, but clean, and you can hear the laughter of children through the walls.

Keigo opens a door and steps through first, calling out. “Hey everyone! Hey Tenko!”

You hear various greetings and smile at the kids when you step in as well.

There are about ten children of various ages playing in that room as well as two caretakers who smile back at you. Everyone seems curious.

Tenko is, unsurprisingly, sitting by the books. His cheek is red and he scratches it absentmindedly as you walk over. His hair is a fluffy dark mess that covers his eyes and he seems to hide behind it as you approach him.

“Hey Uncle Keigo,” he mutters.

“Hey,” Keigo lowers himself to his height. “I brought a friend with me.”

You introduce yourself, taking a seat next to Tenko. Instead of looking directly at him, you check out the book he’s currently looking through.

“Is that a good book?”

“It’s okay,” Tenko comments, flipping a page and scratching himself again.

“Is it itching again?” Keigo asks, reaching out as if to touch it but Tenko pulls away.

“I’m fine,” the boy insists. “Why are you here? You only bring stupid people.”

Keigo opens his mouth to protest but you send him a look that has him fall silent again.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you tell Tenko. “I hope I’m not stupid, but I can understand that it gets a little boring after a while. Do you know why I’m here today?”

Tenko looks up at you for a second than back to his book. “I don’t know.”

“Do you mind if I explain it to you?”

Tenko shrugs and you lean back a little, looking up at the ceiling above you.

“Your Uncle Keigo is looking for a home for you, you know that right? And it’s not easy to pick your own parent, I’m sure, so he brings us over so you can meet us and get to know us. I’m sorry if the other people before were stupid. I’m trying not to be.”

“You’re going to take me home with you?” Tenko asks, sounding curious. “Like, really?”

“Really, really,” you insist, though doubling down. “But only if you want it. Right now I have one boy living with me. He calls me his big sister, because he’s already got a Mom but she can’t take care of him right now.”

Tenko’s face falls. “Other kids don’t like me.”

“Well, I’m sorry you haven’t made friends yet. I’ve talked to Hitoshi and he’d like to get to know you though.”

Tenko looks unsure so you pull out your phone. “This is Hitoshi.”

Tenko stares in wonder at the picture. “His hair is so purple,” he mutters, clearly amazed. “How does he do that?” And like a shadow has lifted, he suddenly notices your hair as well. “Yours too!” He moves as if to reach for it before flinching back. “I’m not supposed to touch without asking,” he remembers, bowing politely. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You lean your head over. “You wanna touch it? Go for it.”

Tenko’s still clearly critical by the time you have to leave.

But he’s warmed up to you a little, told you all about how he loves dogs and thinks cats are a little scary, that he likes salty things more than sweets and that his favorite picture book is about a fat unicorn who’s always in a bad mood.

“Will you come back?” Tenko asks when you have to say goodbye.

“If you want,” you leave it to him.

Tenko looks up at Keigo then back to you.

“You can come back”, he tells you and even though you’re not able to use your Quirk you’re pretty sure he’s wishing for it with all his might, despite his nonchalance.

“This went well,” Keigo points out once you leave. “When can you come back?”

“Tomorrow,” you tell him. “I don’t want to much time to pass between visits. I’ll make sure to pick up the slack at work in the evenings. Hitoshi returns Saturday afternoon, so if Tenko is up to it, I’d love for them to meet on Sunday.”

Keigo sighs. “You’re sure you’re up to this?”

“Have you seen this kid?” You ask him, knowing he has, more than once.

You can barely explain your own feelings but Keigo doesn’t need an explanation.

“I’m glad I found you,” he tells you, opening the door of the cab for you.

“Will you pick me up tomorrow again?” You ask instead of getting in. “The bracelets-”

“Tsukauchi will pick you up tomorrow,” he tells you. “I’m… I’ll try something. Talk to someone.”

You smile. His anxiety is palpable. “Good luck with that.”

Keigo groans. “Don’t. You’ll jinx it.”

“Is she worth it?” You ask, sure you’re guessing right. Sure he’s taking another step in the right direction, trying to be vulnerable, trying to get what he wants in life.

He doesn’t quite blush, but you can tell he’s flustered.

“That and more,” he promises pushing you into the car. “And no more questions. You’re not my Mom.”

Tenko’s clearly surprised to see you coming the next day.

“You came back,” he greets you, making space on his blanket in the shadow of the large oak tree.

The orphanage sits right by the park and yesterday’s rain has cleared enough to warant a visit. You’re glad. There are way less curious eyes here than in that stuffed room back at the orphanage.

“Sure,” you tell him, sitting down next to him. “You told me I could, so I did.”

“Why are you wearing bracelets?” Tenko asks next, pointing at them.

“Oh, so you’ve noticed them? They are shutting off my Quirk so I can’t use it around you.”

“Why?”

“Well, what if I used my Quirk to make myself look really cool and fun and you’d choose me as your new home only to find out it’s not that cool and fun at all?”

“That wouldn’t be nice,” he concludes, brows furrowing. He’s quiet for a second before he shows you his hands and the contraption he’s wearing on them. It looks like a glove, but it only covers his pinky, with a string around his wrist holding it tight. “This is for my Quirk. So I don’t activate it on accident.”

“Oh, you have your Quirk already?”

“No,” his tone is sullen, “but when it comes in I have to be prepared. It’s dangerous.”

You nod. “Mine too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I can change people’s emotions. Say,” you nod at the children playing by the swings, “now they’re all happy and getting along. If I get very angry, I could make them very angry and then they’d all be fighting.”

Tenko’s mouth is open as he gawks at you. “You can do that?” He asks, astonished. “B-but… how do you… how do you control it?”

“I had to learn to control my own emotions. Now, even if I get really really angry, I have control over it. That comes in very handy when you have cheeky kids doing things they shouldn’t be doing because it helps me to be calm at all times.”

Tenko considers that for a moment. “And Toshi? What’s his Quirk?”

“You mean Hitoshi? He also has a dangerous Quirk. If you answer him, he can control your body. He’s trained it very well, so he doesn’t activate it on accident and because he wants to be a Hero. If a bad guy comes up to him, ready to fight, Hitoshi can make him sit down and be quiet just by talking to him.”

“That’s cool!” Tenko claps into his hands excitedly before realizing something. “But he’s not going to like my Quirk!”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Tenko explains his dilemma. “But I know it’s dangerous. That’s why I’m not allowed to touch things with all five fingers.”

“Of course there’s no real knowing what your Quirk will be,” you tell him. “But I think I might have an idea what it could be. I’ll talk to your Uncle Keigo and if I’m right, I’ll tell you, okay?”

Tenko nods before reaching up to scratch his cheek.

“Does that hurt?” You ask, the skin red where his nails have scratched it raw.

“A little,” Tenko admits. “But I can’t stop cratching.”

“Do you want to try out a balm I’ve brought with? I use it when my cats scratch me. It’s very soothing.”

He’s hesitant for a moment but then he nods.

“Is it okay if I put it on?” You ask him, unscrewing the lid from the balm. “So you don’t get your special gloves dirty?”

“Okay.” His skin is soft beneath your touch and you take care rubbing the balm in. His eyes, wide and grey and full of wonder, look up at you as you caress his cheek.

You wonder, not without feeling pained, when the last time was he’d been touched so gently.

“Will you come back tomorrow?” He asks when you put the balm away.

“Do you want me too?”

“Yes, please.”

Chapter 14 Chapter Text

-x- You -x-

You go visit Tenko Saturday morning, allowed to leave the bracelets off.

Keigo’s by your side again this time, though clearly no longer interesting to Tenko who’s slid closer to you, showing you the book he’s currently “reading”.

Now, with your Quirk in action, you can feel all the yearning that’s bottled up inside of little Tenko, all the insecurity he hides behind a bored face.

Gently, you rest your hand on his back as he explains the pictures and he leans into the touch, his whole body lighting up with delight at the sensation.

“So, Uncle Keigo here has found out a little bit about your Quirk,” you tell Tenko after he’s devoured the Snack you brought, salted pretzels and apple slices. “If you want to hear about it.”

Tenko blinks up at Keigo and slides even further into your side, his shoulder digging into your ribs. You let your arm rest around him like a shield and pretend you haven’t noticed him shuffling closer and closer.

“Ah, well, yes.” Keigo clears his throat. “Your father had a Quirk called Decay. Whatever he touched with all five foungers would turn to dust.”

Tenko looks up at him with wide eyes and then turns to you. “Everything?” He asks, looking around and back up at you. “Even… living things?”

“Even living things,” you tell him calmly. “Now, as he grew older, he learned how to control it, making sure never to touch things with all five fingers. If you have his Quirk, you’ll be at an advantage because you’re already doing that.”

Tenko looks down at his hands. “B-But-”

“But you haven’t asked about your mother yet,” you remind him gently, your hand warm on his back. He straightens and turns to Keigo who nods.

“Your mother’s Quirk isn’t entirely known. But as far as I’m aware, she was able to heal minor wounds by touching them with… you’ve guessed it, all five fingers.”

Tenko blinks. He looks down at his hands, Keigo’s joke lost on him. “So I’m either going to destroy or heal everything I touch?”

“Or both,” you tell him softly, “Or something entirely else. The point is, your father had a dangerous quirk and while it’s only right to make sure you don’t hurt yourself or anyone else when it activates, there’s no point in being afraid of it.”

“I don’t want to hurt other people,” Tenko tells you sincerely. “I promise!”

“I know,” you take his hand and squeeze it. “And I’ll help you keep that promise.”

Hitoshi waves at you as he steps out of the bus but gathers around their teachers with the rest of his classmates. You know you’re a little early but he texted you to pick him up with a too many exclamation marks to be accidental.

His head hangs a little low as he walks over, though he’s got a few boys with him.

“Hey, Mrs. Shinsou!” Denki greets you, waving. “Hitoshi told everyone, so the jig is up, but boy am I glad to see you! We’ve just got told that we’ll have to-”

“Tattletale,” Neito interrupts him before turning to you. “Hi,” He moves in for a hug and you laugh, patting his back. Hitoshi watches, his emotions a mix of dread, exhaustion and amusement, sending you a wordless smile.

“We can take Neito with us, right?” Hitoshi asks. “He lives close by.”

“Sure.”

“And Denki?” Hitoshi sends you a pleading look. “We’re not going to have much freetime in the next few weeks and he wanted to show me this one game.”

You bite back a sigh. “That’s fine with me. Anyone else?”

Hitoshi turns and waves. “Midoriya, you coming or not? Ochako?”

Ochako you know already, her face beaming up at you as she greets you.

Midoriya, however, is only familiar through what he’s done for the cause. His face is heavily scarred and his his vividly green hair a memory of darker times. His emotions are boiling too, gratitude and confusion and happiness and-

“You’re not inviting Shouto?” You ask, teasing Hitoshi, who shrugs.

“He’s getting picked up by his sister, he said he couldn’t come.”

You bite back your surprised “Oh?” when you feel a similar emotion not too far from you.

Looking up, you can see Aizawa watching you. You raise your hand to wave and he responds in kind, awkwardness flooding you and him alike before he turns to leave.

The kids leave late.

You’re not sure how to feel about it.

You’re thankful, happy and more than glad that Hitoshi has opened up to his classmates and friends, though you have reason to believe he’s used them as a distraction today.

“Can we talk?” You ask as he’s getting ready for bed.

You have two more hours of work to catch up downstairs, but this is more important.

“Does it have to be now?” He asks, putting toothpaste on his toothbrush.

“Unless you want to talk it through tomorrow morning, yes, I’d prefer it to be now. I know your brain is more active in the evenings anyway.”

“Thaffalie,” he mutters through the foam and you pat his shoulder before walkind downstairs to brew up some tea.

Hitoshi follows, his whole body screaming how little he wants to be here.

“Aizawa talked to you,” you start. He nods.

“How much do you know?”

“Well, I only ‘know’ that you think we’d work well together because the kid’s a boy and introverted. But if you ask what I’m assuming, I think it’s Shigaraki’s kid.”

You bite back your surprise yet again.

“How did you figure that out?”

“Dangerous Quirk,” Hitoshi quips. “So, it’s him, right? Shigaraki’s kid.” He leans back to look at you. “And you’re taking him in.”

You sigh. “I want to, yes. But I don’t want to force your hand.”

“What if I don’t like him?”

“Then we’ll figure something out. But, you need to remember that Tenko’s never met his father and there’s a real chance he’s not in posession of his Quirk either.”

“Are you trying to tell me that Shigaraki loved a woman enough to have a child with her? Shigaraki?”

“As far as I’m aware, Shigaraki was pressured into this. I’m still waiting for my request to be accepted so that I can talk to his former accomplices to gather more informat-”

“You wanna do what?” Hitoshi’s gotten up, staring at you. “Why?”

“How much do you know about your father?” You ask him instead and watch him sit down again. “And I’m not asking about all the bad he’s done. Do you know why he fell in love with your mother? Or what he thought when you were born? If he’s had as much trouble falling asleep as you do or if his favorite animal were cats as well?”

“I don’t care-”

“Don’t lie to yourself, Hitoshi,” you ask him. “We all want to know the people that left us behind. We just accept with time that we’ll never get the answers we deserved.”

“Fine,” Hitoshi huffs. “Fine. Say we take him in. What’s next? Is he going to kill you when his Quirk comes in?”

“Not if we can help it. There’s training involved, sure, but all in all, a Quirk you’re prepared for is no longer that dangerous.”

Hitoshi sinks into his chair and stares at his tea cup.

“What if he doesn’t like me?” He asks and you can feel the insecurities in him raising their ugly heads.

“What if he loves you?” You ask back. “Ever thought about that?”

Tenko’s holding onto your hand, his whole body filled with anxiety.

Hitoshi’s stretched out on the bench, face in the sun, pretending to be as chill as one person can be, though you can feel the anxiety coursing through him.

“Look who it is,” you call out, not quite sure who you’re talking to, though Hitoshi blinks his eyes open to take Tenko in who reaches up to scratch his cheek on instinct.

“You’re really small,” Hitoshi figures, a little perplexed. “Are they not feeding you enough?”

“You’re too tall,” Tenko complains. “Are you eating too much?”

Hitoshi laughs and the spell is broken. “I think Mom would disagree with that. She always tries to get me to eat more.”

Tenko looks up at you and back at Hitoshi while you bite your tongue, determined to keep your own emotions at bay.

“Mom?” He asks, confused. “I thought you’re his big sister.”

“Well,” Hitoshi sits up and furrows his brows. “I thought about it. If she’s my sister, but going to be your Mom, that would make me your Uncle, right?”

“I guess?”

“Yeah, I’m too young to be an Uncle. I’d rather call her Mom too and get to be your brother instead. I think that makes more sense, don’t you?”

Tenko stills, looking up at you, Hitoshi and back at you. Then he starts crying.

“Shit, did I say something wrong?” Hitoshi panicks as you lower yourself to the ground only to have Tenko throwing himself at you.

“I think you made him very happy right now,” you tell Hitoshi, your voice thick, rubbing Tenko’s back. “And me too.”

Hitoshi sends you a wavering mile and turns his head to blink away a tear as well, pretending to be blinded by the sun.

-x- Shinsou Hitoshi -x-

Tenko’s not allowed to go home with them just yet and their goodbye’s are drawn out and tearful, Tenko holding onto his hand for far longer than necessary.

“You surprised me out there,” you tell him once you’re back in the car, though you don’t move to drive away.

“I surprised myself,” Hitoshi admits, looking down at his nails.

“Do you regret it?”

“No,” he puts his thumb in his mouth and bites down on it. It hurts. So this isn’t a dream.

“He reminds me of Eri, in a way. I thought he was going to be awful, a prick, a-”

“Monster?”

“Yeah. But he’s just… a kid.” He’s quiet for a second. “I’ll have to tell Midoriya. I don’t know what went on during that fight but he’s… He’ll want to know Shigaraki had a kid. He’s going to cry about it and come by much too often, but I can’t keep that secret from him.”

You lean in to press a kiss against his temple, much too quick for him to draw away even if he had wanted to.

“You’re the best kid I’ve ever had,” you tell him, pushing his hair back to look into his eyes. “I should tell you every day.”

“Don’t,” Hitoshi groans. “Tenko will just get jealous.”

He gets to sleep in the next day and although he wakes up once and hears you putter around, he only gets up around noon to have lunch with you..

“Can I ask you something?” The three sips of coffe he’s had already have cleared his mind enough to talk.

“Sure,” you slide a pancake onto his plate. One side is a little burnt, so Hitoshi makes sure to pour more syrup over it.

“You’re pretty sensitive when it comes to your cooking, right?” He eyes you, though there’s no sign of your feelings going awry over his comment. Hitoshi really envies your control. “Why is that?”

“I told you I’m not mad if you don’t like something. I’m just winging it with what I’m feeling hungry for, so if you’d like something else for Lunch-”

“You’re doing it again.”

You falter slightly, pour batter into the pan and turn to look at him.

“My Dad used to cook for us. I don’t remember it really, I just know what my mother told me about it. He had to lay low for a while and since I was a cute little newborn, he stayed home while my mother went out to work. It worked pretty well for a few years and I’m glad because I don’t think I’d have survived otherwise.”

Hitoshi chews slowly, watching your face. Your eyes are downcast, but you’re not angry or sad. He knows this happens when you talk about something enough, when it becomes less of your life and more of a story.

“The pancake is burning,” he reminds you softly and you turn with a hiss to flip it.

“Anyway,” you continue, facing the stove for a second before turning around to hold his gaze. “When he left my mother did not try to fill the hole he left. My Quirk developed early, most likely out of necessity, and I could convince her-” You hesitate for a second. “I could convince her to cook for me most days until I learned to do it myself. But even under my control she always let me know my cooking wasn’t on par with that of my Dad.”

“You were a kid.”

“I know,” you say it calmly, as if it’s not about you at all. “But no matter how illogical some of our beliefs are, we still cling onto them with everything that we have.”

Quiet settles for a while. You pile more pancakes onto his plate until he puts his hand out to stop you. You slide the pancake onto your own plate and turn back to the stove to make more.

For a second, Hitoshi watches your back, the messy purple hair, the line of your shoulders.

He’s familiar with that sight, your back turned, cooking for him.

Quietly, he gets up to walk over, to slide into your side.

“Let me help,” he mutters quietly, taking the spatula from your hand. “We can cook together.”

A wave of affection rolls over him, strong enough to make him teary eyed, strong enough to know it has come from you..

“Sorry,” you whisper, pulling him close to press another kiss against his temple. “Couldn’t contain myself.”

Your phone rings on the way over to Shouta and Eri.

You send him a look before you accept the call.

“You’re on speaker Keigo. What’s up?”

“Hi there. What are you up to right now?”

“I’m driving. Aizawa and Eri invited us over.”

“Oh, well…”

“Spit it out,” your tone is friendly, your eyes on the road. Hitoshi starts chewing on the side of his thumb.

“The Orphanage called. Tenko’s throwing a fit because they told him you wouldn’t be in today.”

“We told him yesterday that there’s no visitation on Sunday,” you recall, throwing Hitoshi a look. He bites down a little harder, already knowing how this will end.

“Yeah, he should know that, but it’s not that easy. I’m working on speeding up the moving process, but-”

You sigh. “I’ll call you back in a minute, okay?”

“Wha-” You end the call, cutting him off.

“You’re going to drive over, right?” Hitoshi asks, tasting blood. He takes his thumb out of his mouth and wipes it on his pants. It’s such a stupid habit to have, and he knows he must have picked it up from Denki, but he’s found it hard to stop.

You sigh once more. “It’s a half hour drive and I’ll probably have to stay for about an hour to calm him down. I don’t like prioritizing him over you this early on, but it would be better if I went to see him now instead of later.”

“Yeah,” Hitoshi nods. “Sure.”

“You know I can tell how you’re feeling about it, right?” You ask, throwing him a look. “You can just tell me that you don’t like it. I can feel it.”

“I don’t like it,” Hitoshi says. “But that doesn’t change that you have to do it, right? So why would I say it then?”

“Because it’s important to me that you voice your opinion. It’s neither my job nor my dream to walk around checking everyone’s feelings all the time. Besides, your friends can’t read your emotions. You need practice voicing them.”

Hitoshi frowns. “I don’t.”

“You do.”

You park in front of Aizawa’s apartment but make no move to get out.

“The way I see it we have three options. I come in and leave shortly after to look after Tenko. I leave right now and come in later. Or we both go see Tenko but that would upset Eri.”

Hitoshi opens his seatbelt. “I’ll go in and tell them you’ll come by later.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” he nods. “I know.”

You watch him walk up the stairs and wave at Shouta when he opens the door before driving away..

“She’s not coming in?” Shouta asks, his usual frown not betraying anything.

“She needs to look after Tenko,” Hitoshi explains calmer than he feels. “He’s throwing a tantrum because we’re not visiting today.”

“Ah,” Shouta nods. “Eri’s in the bathroom. She should be out right away.”

“Hitoshi!” Eri runs around the corner to hug him, but stopping short at his sight. “Where’s your Mom?”

“She’s coming in later,” he explains. “She needs to go look after my little brother.”

“You have a little brother?” Eri’s eyes turn big. “Since when?”

“Well,” Hitoshi throws Shouta a look. “It’s a long story. Do you wanna hear it?”

“Yes,” Eri nods. “You can tell me in the living room, I’m throwing a tea party. Daddy can you make the tea?”

Shouta sighs and stalks off, his metal leg clinking on the ground.

Eri pulls Hitoshi away before he can gather his thoughts and his little brother is momentarily forgotten as Eri tries her best to talk him into donning a princess dress five sizes to small for him.

Chapter 15 Chapter Text

-x- Aizawa Shouta -x-

Shouta pulls his phone out of his pocket as the water boils, one ear on the living room situation.

The chat with you is right on top, the message you’ve sent late last night still fresh in his mind.

You: Are you, by chance, still awake?

Shouta: Fellow insomniac, at your service.

You: It’s probably a little too late to ask this, but do you think I’m doing the right thing?

Shouta: It is a little too late to ask. But even though my opinion doesn’t really matter in this, I think you’re doing the right thing. It just remains to be seen if you’re doing it the right way.

You: Wow, you really know how to build someone up.

Shouta: I’m a teacher after all, it’s my job.

You’ve changed your profile picture recently, something he wishes he hadn’t noticed. He opens it to look at it, the deep frown on Hitoshi’s face that’s probably deepened just for comedic effect and the bright smile on yours right next to it. It’s a good picture. One he shouldn’t look at as often as he does, even if he tells himself he’s got not that many pictures of Hitoshi hanging around.

Shouta: Hitoshi’s going to tell Eri about Tenko. Anything you want me to mention in case he forgets?

You still haven’t read his message by the time the tea’s ready, so he puts his phone on vibrate and drops it back in his pocket, carrying the tray over to the living room.

Hitoshi’s hair has been pulled back with a sparkling pink Tiara and he stares morously down Banana who’s curled up in his lap.

“You look like you want to kill my cat,” Shouta tells him pointedly, setting the tea down. “I didn’t know you hated pink Tiara’s so much. Eri, dear, don’t you have a purple one for Hitoshi?”

Eri straightens immediately. “Right! It’s in my room, I’ll get it.”

She races off and Shouta takes his chance to move in, pull the Tiara out of Hitoshi’s hair and shuffle his hand through the mess.

“You good?” He asks, one hand still on Hitoshi’s head, trying to be comforting.

Hitoshi shrugs, though his lower lip pushes out. It’s something Shouta has seen Eri do when she’s overwhelmed by her feelings and he reacts on instinct, pulling Hitoshi in.

“What are you doing?” Hitoshi mutters into his shirt, though he does nothing to pull away.

“Comforting you,” Shouta rubs a hand over his back. “Is it working?”

Hitoshi doesn’t answer for a moment and Shouta’s pretty sure the growing dampness in the middle of his chest is the reason for that.

“I’m acting like a spoiled brat,” Hitoshi finally points out, sniffling. He’s pulling back now, wiping his eyes and looking away. Banana, clinging to his lap, unfurls again, clearly unfazed by this treatment.

“A little,” Shouta admits. “But change makes everyone act weird.” He changes his tone when he hears Eri approaching, turning with a smile.

“Oh, great, you found it. Do you think I should wear the pink Tiara? I’ll try not to break it.”

Eri shakes her head. “No, your head is too big. I’ll get my hairpins. Oh,” she hops on the spot. “I’ve got new one’s from Ochako! They’re pink and sparkly!” And off she goes again.

Frozen is playing in the background when you arrive and Shouta allows himself to stand in the door a little longer to take you in.

You look tired.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize quietly. You’re probably reading his emotions right now, because you neither move past him nor ask him what’s keeping him. “Hitoshi probably told you what happened.”

“How did it go?”

You sigh and rub a hand over your eyebrows. Probably the beginning of a migraine, Shouta’s used to that.

“It took him a while to stop crying. He wanted to come back with me today. One of the kids told him that we’ll probably not be taking him if we don’t take him with us right away and he freaked, of course.”

Shouta can feel his lips pull into a tight line. “Freaking kids-”

“Yeah,” you nod, frowning as well. “Keigo’s working on it. His room’s ready, but the paperwork is awful. It’s probably because I asked to speek to Shigaraki’s former accomplices for further information.”

“Why on earth would you do that?”

“How else am I going to find out about his Dad? He’s going to want to know about that.”

“You get him first and then you weasel your way in to get that information,” Shouta scoffs, dragging a hand through his hair. “I’ll talk to Tsukauchi. He still owes me a favor. Tell Keigo to drop the request and proceed with the adoption.”

You eye him warily and he snaps, knowing full well you’re reading him again.

“I can take that offer back right away, you know?!”

“I know,” your hand lands on his elbow, squeezing it. He tenses, the warmth of your touch sending a shock through him and he knows, just by looking at you, that you’ve sensed it.

“Whatever,” he brushes you off and turns away. “Come in or not. The kids are watching TV.”

You step in behind him, slipping out of your shoes as he turns back once more.

“We managed to distract Eri, by the way,” he adds, a little calmer now, cursing his lack of self-control around you. “So you can tell her yourself.”

“About what?” You ask.

“Tenko.” He swallows. “I sent you a text about it.”

“Oh,” you nod, rubbing your temple again. “Sorry, Tenko kept me from looking at my phone.”

Shouta hesitates once more. “You want some pain meds?”

Your shoulders immediately relax and you sigh. “Yes, please.”

In the few minutes it has taken him to get the medication, Eri has already climbed into your lap.

The movie’s been paused and Hitoshi throws him a look over your shoulder.

Eri’s chewing on the sleeve of her Ganriki Neko shirt, looking up at you.

“So he’s not a baby?” Eri asks and Shouta immediately gathers that the topic has finally moved on to Tenko.

“No, he’s not a baby. He’s three and a half years old.”

Eri considers this. “Does he like cats?”

“Mhm, well, he likes dogs a little bit more, because he thinks cats are a little scary.”

“Scary?” Eri shakes her head. “They’re not scary.”

“Well, he’ll soon learn that when he moves in with us. Next time you come visit he might already be there.”

“Oh,” Eri nods. “I’ll bring an extra Tiara for him then.” She turns toward the TV again, leaning into you. “Can we watch the movie now? This is the best part.”

You laugh and accept the pain medication from him with a mumbled thanks, leaving him to stand around awkwardly, unsure where he’s supposed to sit.

Hitoshi’s curled up in one corner of the couch, looking more asleep than awake. Eri’s perched on your lap. He’s pretty sure he won’t be able to get back up if he takes a seat on the floor and the only other available space is right next to you - in the other corner of the couch.

Biting back a sigh, he settles into the cushions, his prosthetic leg pressing into your thigh. This scene, as domestic as it might be, is almost too much for him and you send him an apologetic look, probably sensing his discomfort.

At least Marshmallow is on his side, plopping himself into his lap with a loud mreow, distracting him until the movie ends.

-x- You -x-

Your alarm goes off an hour earlier each day, so you have time to make breakfast and crack down on the work you have to do until Hitoshi wakes up.

He’s not very talkative during breakfast, but he makes an effort to tell you about what he’s planned, hugging you on the way out.

He’s not told you much about the class current predicament, just that they “misbehaved” during the training camp and are now reaping the consequences of it. You don’t press him on that, hoping he’ll tell you more when he feels like it.

After breakfast you have a few hours to work uninterrupted before it’s time to leave again.

Tenko needs clothes, toys, a suitcase to transport everything he owns from the orphanage to his new home.

You take down most of the posters in the room that’s going to be his and paint one wall a soft lilac color, schedule a visit with your family doctor just so Tenko can get to know her and sit down with Masa for a cup of tea to pour out your doubts.

“You’re going to do great,” your Foster Mother tells you, pulling you in to press a kiss to your temple, showing you again how much you’ve turned out like her. “And I’m here too. You don’t let me help you enough.”

“You’ve got the little ones on your hands,” you remind her, thankful that the twins she fosters are sleeping right now. “I’m going to be fine.”

“Sure,” she pats your cheek. “But I’m still going to worry. And I’m going to cook you a batch of Curry, okay? It freezes well and everyone loves it.”

“Thank you,” you hug her once more. “I love you.”

“I love you too, little one.” She pinches your cheek. “Now go get that kid of yours.”

You’re no longer accompanied by an outsider when you visit Tenko, though the Orphanage staff is still withing earshot, should something happen.

His moods change swiftly, from being clingy one second to pushing you away the next.

He’s impatient and anxious and often overwhelmed by his emotions.

But he’s three years old, you’d expect nothing else from him.

“Today we’re going shopping,” you announce when you meet up with him on Thursday. For this trip, you’ve got Tsukauchi to accompany you. Keigo claims to be busy and you tend to believe him. He never seems to mind spending time with Tenko.

“What for?” Tenko clings onto your pantleg.

“Three things. Clothes, plushies and snacks.”

He’s instantly overwhelmed. His favorite plush is an awfully worn down dog you know he must have gotten from a hospital. They’re handed out as freebies to children and they’re quality is abysmal.

“I don’t want another plushie,” Tenko declares, pressing his doggie to his chest.

“Well, you don’t have to. But since you’re getting a big brother I thought you might want some company for doggie too.”

Tenko’s still skeptical when you lead him into the aisle with the plushies. You’ve chosen a smaller store as to not overwhelm him but it’s clear that even this is too much for him.

You lift him up and let him cling to you, Tsukauchi a familiar presence behind you.

“You’re feeling a lot right now,” you tell him softly, “and that’s okay. You cannot make a wrong choice here, okay? Do you want me to help you?”

He nods.

“Okay, so we want a plush that can be friends with doggie. So it can’t be too big or doggie might get scared, right?” You wait for his nod before you move on to the smaller plushies. “Now doggie is a dog, right? We have a few different animals here, which animal do you think doggie might like? No answers are wrong, you know. You can just go by color if you don’t know the animal.”

Tenko peeks over your shoulder to look at the options. You easily spot a black dog about the size of doggie as well as a calico cat, but there’s also a cow, a bright orange colored dinosaur and a purple unicorn.

“Purple,” Tenko mutters, reaching for the Unicorn.

“This one?” You pick it up and hand it to him. It’s decently sized and the horn speckled with glitter. You can tell immediately that Tenko has decided.

“Good choice,” you tell him, wondering if it would be too quick to press a kiss to his temple. He squeezes his head underneath your chin before you can decide, almost trying to creep into you. His right hand sneaks into your armpit, a sensation so weirdly familiar though it has been decades since you’ve done that yourself.

You sigh, turning to Tsukauchi who watches you with a passive face.

“The clothes are two aisles down,” he explains and you follow his lead, keeping Tenko in your arms as long as you can handle his weight.

Hitoshi comes back late every night, stumbling in around seven or eight, an exhausted, dirty, starving mess.

You manage to coax out a few explanations of what’s happened that day, tell him about your progress with Tenko while he eats and then he naps on the Couch for half an hour before he drags himself up again to do his homework.

You work alongside him, trying to catch up with your latest project, the hours spent with Tenko cutting away on you.

Just a few more days, you tell yourself, and things will ease up again.

-x- Shimura Tenko -x-

Uncle Keigo comes by right after breakfast, waving at him from the other side of the room.

Tenko waves back, but stays where he is. He’s not allowed to approach the grown ups unless he needs to use the toilet or he’s got a question, so he looks back down at his picture book again.

Mom got him this one. It’s his very own and though he’s showed it to some of the other kids, they don’t like it. It’s got Unicorns in it and they think Unicorns are boring.

“Hey Tenko,” Keigo sits down next to him. “You got a new book?”

“Yeah,” Tenko closes it to show it to Uncle Keigo. “Mom got it for me. It’s about Unicorns.”

“Oh, that’s neat. Do you have any other books that Mom got you?”

“No, the other books are at my new home,” Tenko explains.

“Right. Say, if you could take some of your books from here, which would you take?”

Tenko looks up at him. “Take?”

“Yeah. You’re the one reading them all and I’ve talked to Yamagata-san. You can pick some you like and take with you.”

Tenko looks at the bookshelves. The books are sorted by color, but the Unicorn books are all down in one corner. He pulls them out and hands them to Uncle Keigo before pulling out one more book he’s looked at a few times and liked a lot. It’s about a Lizard who wears a funny hat and walks around the neighborhood helping others.

“Good choice buddy,” Uncle Keigo tucks the books under his arm and offers him his hand. “Now, let’s look for some toys we could pack for you. I’m sure there are some you used a lot, right?”

They move through the rooms, picking up stuff Tenko has played with a lot. They pass by Yamagata-san who smiles at him and tries to pinch his cheek, but she doesn’t look too mad when Tenko steps out of reach in time.

Only when they reach the dorm room does Tenko understand.

A big suitcase sits on his bed and Hironaka-san’s folding up his clothes, putting them in.

“I’m leaving?” Tenko asks, dropping his stuffed doggie.

“Yes,” Uncle Keigo tells him calmly, not letting go of his hand. “Your Mom’s on the way to pick you up today.”

His stomach feels tight all of a sudden and his skin itches. Tenko reaches up to scratch his cheek.

“Hey,” Uncle Keigo sits down on the ground and looks at him. “Are you nervous?”

Tenko nods.

“That’s okay. It’s a big step. But I’m going to come with, okay? If anything happens and you don’t like it, you can tell me. I’ll help you. I’ll let nothing bad happen to you, okay?”

“Okay.”

Mom comes in before they’re finished packing.

She picks him up and holds him for a while, doesn’t say anything when he slips his hand into her armpit. She’s soft and she smells good and she’s nice and warm.

Tenko can feel himself calm down a little.

Mom holds his hand on the way out, asks if he wants to say goodbye to the kids and the teachers. He’s not sure, so she stops at the playroom and they wave at the people in there. It feels funny, all of them waving back at him.

Mom’s car is big. She places him in his car seat and puts Mr. Unicorn in his lap after she’s buckled him in. Uncle Keigo sits next to him, which is weird, because now Mom’s sitting alone in the front.

They drive for a while and Uncle Keigo tells him a funny story about a guy who has giant wings to fly but gets lost over a city because he can’t figure out which road is which. It’s a long story and Tenko falls asleep, only waking up when the car stops.

“We’re here,” Mom says from the front and when he looks out the window, he can see a big house.

Mom takes his hand and helps him up the stairs to the front door. There’s another door right next to it.

“This is where my Mom lives,” Mom explains. “So she’s your grandma. She’ll come by later today to meet you, okay? She’s taking care of twins, they’re younger than you.”

“I thought Grandma’s are old,” he tells her, a little confused. “Why does she have babies?”

Mom laughs. “That’s a good question, Tenko. I’ll explain it to you when she comes over, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now, I told you I have two cats and one dog, right? Mud is pretty shy, so he’s probably not coming out for a while, and Rust does whatever she wants, but Mildew is very friendly. She’s the big white cat.”

Mom opens the door and walks him in, pointing at a fat white cat that’s sleeping on a rug next to the Couch. Something moves to his right and Tenko flinches, grabbing Mom’s leg to hide behind.

“Oh, look,” Mom’s hand is on his shoulders, holding him tight. “Mud wants to meet you.”

Mud, the dog, makes a sound, like a bark, but quieter, and walks over to sniff Tenko’s hand. It’s a small dog, smaller than him, with a friendly face.

He looks up at Mom and she smiles down at him. “You can pet him, if you want. Looks like he’s been waiting for you to show up. He’s been very shy, he might have been lonely.”

Tenko reaches out to pet him, giggling when Mud pushes his head against his hand, making more sounds.

“I like him,” Tenko declares. “He’ll be my friend.”

Tenko can’t sleep.

His room is very big and very quiet and his bed doesn’t feel right. There’s a window next to his bed where there wasn’t one before and he can’t hear the other kids breathing like he used to.

He slips out of bed.

Mud yips from his own bed and follows him out of the room.

The hallway is dark and Tenko can’t find the light switch. He stumbles down the hallway, hands outstretched, hoping he’ll find it. Instead, his hands hit another doorframe. Is this the bathroom?

He opens the door and blinks against a dim light.

Toshi’s looking up at him from the other end of the room, sitting in bed.

“Hey, did you get lost?”

Tenko nods, a little scared. He’s not seen Toshi today. Mom said he needs to stay at school very long and that Tenko will see him in the morning. Maybe Toshi doesn’t want to see him at night.

“Did you want to go to the bathroom?” Toshi asks, getting out of bed.

Tenko nods. Toshi steps out of the room and turns the light on, pointing at another door.

“Do you need more help?”

Tenko shakes his head but stays where his, frozen to the ground.

Toshi looks down at him. He looks scary and Tenko whimpers, biting his lip at the sound.

“Oh,” Toshi nods. “You couldn’t sleep, right?”

Tenko nods, his stomach tight. His cheek itches and he scratches it, again and again.

“Let’s look for Mom, huh?” Toshi offers his hand to Tenko so he takes it, holding on tight.

Down the stairs they go.

Rust is sitting on the rug now and Mud leaves Tenko’s side to cuddle up to her.

Behind them, Mom’s sitting in the corner, staring at a computer screen.

“Mom?” Toshi calls out quietly, just walking over.

Tenko drags his feet. Doesn’t Toshi know you’re not supposed to interrupt the grown ups?

Mom turns. “Oh, hey boys. What are you doing up?” She smiles down at him.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Toshi explains.

“Oh really?” Mom reaches out. She doesn’t look mad, so Tenko takes a step forward, and another one, until he’s close enough that she can pick him up.

She’s warm and soft and she smells good, so he slips his hand into her armpit and tucks his head under her chin.

“I get it, I get it,” Mom mutters quietly. “Everything’s different, right? You can stay here with me until you feel ready to go to sleep again, okay?”

Tenko nods, curling into her. He forgot Doggie and Mr. Unicorn upstairs, but it’s nice, sitting with Mom.

Toshi says something that Tenko can’t understand. Is he mad?

“Hitoshi said good night,” Mom explains. “He’s going back to bed.”

“Good night Toshi,” Tenko mumbles and feels something pat his back.

He’s tired, he can feel it now. Mom’s soft and warm and she smells good, so he closes his eyes, just until he needs to go to bed again.

He falls asleep without even realizing it.

Chapter 16 Chapter Text

-x- Shinsou Hitoshi -x-

It takes him two days to figure out that he’ll probably forever be called Toshi by his new little brother. He’s tried to tell him twice, but Tenko just looks up at him with wide eyes until Hitoshi gives up, too exhausted to fight about something so trivial in the morning.

It is kinda cute, Hitoshi gives him that, though he already knows both Denki and Neito will pick up on that.

“Morning Toshi,” Tenko greets him Friday morning, almost tripping over Mud on the way to the table, a breakfast muffin in his hands. “Here!”

“Thanks, Champ,” Hitoshi cringes at the nickname. He’s not yet sure what to call him. Buddy? Just Tenko? Lil Bro? No, that just sounds like a rapper name in the making.

“When are you going to be back tonight?” You aks from the stove.

“Same as always,” Hitoshi sighs. “But today’s the last day of clean up, so at least next week is going to be easier. Though we start our Internship on the Thirteenth, so…”

“What’s that?” Tenko asks, climbing onto his chair. “I-Int-Inte…”

“Internship,” you repeat the word. “That’s when you get to work as a student to learn how the Professionals do it. Hitoshi’s going to work with real Heroes.”

“Really?” Tenko looks at him, wide-eyed. “Which one?”

“Ah, there’s Eraser Head and Present Mic and some others, but these aren’t well-known.”

“Oh,” Tenko blinks. “I only know All Might.”

Hitoshi snickers. “Everyone knows All Might. Did you know he teaches at my school too?”

“Really?” Tenko looks like he can’t believe it.

“Yeah,” Hitoshi nods. “You might get to meet him too, when he have this years school festival. Though it’s still some time off, so don’t get impatient, okay?”

Tenko nods eagerly, clearly trying not to be impatient, but failing miserably.

It’s weird, saying goodbye.

Tenko always looks like he’s going to cry any second, though he’s not yet comfortable with hugging Hitoshi, instead waving at him from a safe space - usually by your side, holding onto you in some way.

It reminds him of Eri’s early days, so he doesn’t take any offense in it.

“Last day of clean up,” Neito greets him at the train station, high-fiving him. “And about five days to enjoy our freedom until the internship starts.”

“Don’t remind me,” Hitoshi yawns, nodding at Tokoyami who’s joining them as well. “I could use some sleep.”

“I, too, could use more rest,” Tokoyami comments. He eyes Hitoshi’s blazer. “You’ve got a stain there.”

Hitoshi looks down to check and bites back a curse. The stain is a perfect print of Tenko’s small hand, the chocolate-brown color indicating what had been spilled.

“Well,” Hitoshi sighs, “at least now everyone will know my little brother has arrived.”

“How is he?” Neito asks.

“Small.”

As expected from Aizawa-Sensei their punishment is at once cruel, yet worthwhile. They’re tasked to rebuild different settings on the training grounds, the use of their Quirks allowed. It’s cruel, because even as they do their best to build everything up - any sloppiness results in them staying behind until it’s resolved - they know it will only get torn down again a few days later. But it’s also worthwhile, because as the settings change, so do the solutions. And even the densest of them figures out after a while that this is excellent practice for future rescue missions. Even though some Quirks, like Bakugo’s or Hitoshis, are quite useless for these tasks.

Today, their last day, Hitoshi finds himself swiping up broken glass alongside Midoriya.

He’s not had a change to speak with him since they’ve arrived from the Camp, though this might also stem from the fact that Hitoshi has been avoiding him. Kind off.

“So, you, eh,” he starts, regretting it immediately.

“Yeah?” Midoriya looks up. He’s hair has grown back significantly, though the change is still there to see.

“Shigaraki,” Hitosi blunders on. “When you fought him, you’ve built up… a connection to him, right?”

“You could say,” Midoriya comments, his voice tense.

Hitoshi eyes him for a second, taking a breath. It’s not him to circle around a subject like that, to stutter around like a fool.

“If Shigaraki had a child,” he says, matter-of-factly and straight to the point, “Which was born without knowing his father - or knowing him much, so to say - would you want to know him? It, I mean? The kid.”

Midoriya stares at him, wide-eyed and pale. Hitoshi realizes that he should have picked a different time and place for this a little too late.

“Are you okay?” He asks, reaching for his class-mate.

Midoriya’s mouth pulls into a thin line. Before Hitoshi knows what’s happening, Midoriya’s crying, and full on sobbing too.

“Hey, no, don’t cry-” He really is the wrong person for that. “Why are you-? Shit.”

“Sorry,” Midoriya wipes his face on his sleeve and snuffles loudly. “Sorry, I just got a little overwhelmed. Shigaraki had a kid, you say?”

“What?!”

Hitoshi turns, groaning. Bakugo’s staring at them and he’s pretty sure the other guy isn’t so pissed because they’re talking instead of sweeping.

“Shigaraki had a kid?”

“Yeah,” Hitoshi bites out. “And it’s supposed to stay a secret.”

“So you’re telling Izuku?” Bakugo barks at him, disbelieving. “He’s like the worst at keeping a secret, I should know.”

“Hey now,” Midoriya tries to cut in, though Bakugo won’t hear any of it.

“Where is it? How old is it? What Quirks does it have and does the police now?”

Hitoshi groans once more. “Will you be quiet? The police know, he’s three and a half years old, I think his Mom gave birth to him at some safe house or something, because how else could she have hid him until after the war, right? A-and he’s living with us.”

Bakugo stares at him, speechless for the first time since Hitoshi’s met him.

Midoriya, however, starts crying again.

“I need to tell All Might,” he stutters, over again. “Nana Shimura, his master, he’ll want to know.”

“Right now,” Hitoshi tells him pointedly, “you’ll tell no one. He’s been with us for barely a week and he’s still not figured out that the bathroom is right next to his room. If you two come barging in you’ll just scare him.”

Midoriya looks like he wants to disagree but Bakugo sends him a look that shuts him up.

“Is he a good kid?” Bakugo asks gruffly, crossing his arms.

Hitoshi shrugs. “As far as I can tell, he is. He gets easily scared, he loves dogs and unicorns and most of the time he just wants to be held.”

Both of them relax instantly.

“I’ll invite you over as soon as I can,” Hitoshi promises Midoriya before he picks up his broom again. “Until then, keep quiet about it. Please.”

-x- Shouta -x-

If not for the fact that Hitoshi’s been a regular visitor at his place far longer than he’s known you, Shouta would have considered calling off this weekends visit.

But Hitoshi expects him just as much as Eri expects to see Hitoshi. And you. She’s been talking about you all week.

“You’ll meet Hitosi’s little brother today, remember?”

Eri nods, hopping down the stairs. “I know! Oh, Uncle Mic!” She waves at Hizashi, who’s just stepped out of his car. “You coming with us?”

“Oh, you going out?” Hizashi looks surprised. “I thought Sunday’s are for Hitoshi?”

“They are,” Shouta agrees. “But Hitoshi’s got a little brother so now we’re visiting him instead.”

“A little brother…” Hizashi looks downright confused. Shouta can’t blame him. He hasn’t had the chance to bring him up to speed yet, though that’s mainly his own fault for skirting past the topic whenever he’s had the chance.

“You wanna come with?” Eri asks, pulling at Hizashi’s hand. “Hitoshi’s Mom has two cats and one dog, did you know that? And she’s making cookies with me today, she promised.”

“Don’t be upset if that won’t be today, okay Eri?” Shouta reminds her. “You know she might not have everything ready with Tenko.”

“Tenko,” Hizashi repeats, his voice terse.

Shouta nods, sending him a look. Thankfully, Hizashi catches it and doesn’t bring it up in front of Eri.

Hitoshi opens the door for them.

“Mom!” He yells up the stairs. “Everyone’s here!”

“Coming right down,” you call back. “Just a second.”

“Tenko’s spilled juice on himself,” Hitoshi explains, blinking when Hizashi doesn’t move past him, instead staring at him, clearly bewildered.

“What?”

“Mom?” Hizashi asks. “I thought-”

“Oh,” Hitoshi makes a face. “Right. Err… This is my Foster Mom.” He points up the stairs where you’ve just appeared, carrying on your arm what somehow resembles a human kid, curled up as tight as possible.

It’s clear that Tenko’s overwhelmed, even without an Empathy Quirk.

Shouta drags Hizashi into the living room by his elbow, relieved to see that Hitoshi’s occupying Eri’s attention.

“Listen,” Shouta hisses under his breath. “The short story is this: Hitoshi’s had some trouble with this situation at the beginning, so he made up the sibling story. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you before. Tenko’s pretty new to this house so just… use your indoor voice, okay?”

Hizashi blinks, purses his lips into a pout, but nods. Shouta knows he’s going to get a lot of shit for this later.

Behind them, they hear a small voice call out with utter astonishment: “You’re a unicorn!”

They turn at the same time. Tenko has untucked his head from under your chin and is staring down at Eri, or to be precise, the single horn on her forehead.

“I am?” Eri asks, confused.

Tenko nods enthusiastically, turning back to you. “Mom! Can I show her Mr. Unicorn?”

“Sure you can. Can you get him by yourself?”

Tenko shakes his head. You nod and turn back to the stairs. “We’ll be back in a second.”

Eri doesn’t mind Tenko even half as much as Shouta had feared.

She seems delighted by all the differences it makes to be the older kid in any game.

By the time they have to leave, Tenko’s sitting by her side, watching her with utter fascination as Eri goes through his picture books, “reading” him stories she’s making up in her head.

She doesn’t even mention the fact that no cookies were baked.

When it’s time to say goodbye, Tenko curls his hand into her skirt though, unwilling to let go.

“We’ll see her again,” you promise softly, unfurling his fingers one by one. “I promise.”

Tears well up in his eyes and Eri looks close to crying too.

“I guess,” Shouta starts, feeling uncomfortable, “I guess if you’re comfortable with that, Eri could spend a day or two with you, during the week?”

Eri looks up at him with bright eyes. “Really?”

“We’ll talk it through,” you say to his surprise, lifting Tenko up when he reaches for Eri again. You might have never offered to take Eri for the day before, but he could tell you loved spending time with her. “But now Eri has to go home. She has to feed her cats too, right Eri?”

“Yeah,” Eri beams up at Tenko who stops crying. “We’ve got three. Banana, Marshmallow and Pumpkin. Next time you can come over and meet them.”

Tenko considers that and tucks his head under your chin, slides his hand into your armpit as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Okay.”

Eri falls asleep seconds after he starts the car.

Hizashi throws one look at her before he purses his lips, readying himself to talk.

“Quiet,” Shouta reminds him.

“I can be quiet,” Hizashi mutters, clearly miffed. “I can also keep secrets. You know that. At least I thought you knew that.”

“I know that,” Shouta insists. “I’m- I’m sorry.”

Hizashi eyes him. “You’re what?”

“I’m sorry, okay.”

“Sorry, didn’t quite hear you. What was that?”

Shouta throws him an angry glare before focusing back on the street. “I am sorry I didn’t fill you in sooner. You are a good friend and able to keep every secret you’re told.”

“Thank you,” Hizashi smirks. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Shouta groans but doesn’t react otherwise.

“Now Eri seems to have grown quite a liking to Mrs. Shinsou,” Hizashi points out, and something in his tone already promises trouble.

“She has.”

“I should have known. She’s totally your type.”

“What?!” Shouta turns for a millisecond before he directs his gaze back at the street. It’s dangerous to have Hizashi as a passenger.

“Yeah. Should have known when she came in for Hitoshi. He’s got a nose for picking the right people, I tell you. You’ve asked her out on a date yet?”

“I haven’t, I won’t and I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mhm, shame.” Hizashi nods, though Shouta’s pretty sure he cares little for what he just heard. “Do you want me to ask her out for you? I’ll do that, you know? I’m your best friend after all.”

“No,” Shouta bites out, “you used to be my best friend before you turned delusional. Even if I was allowed to date her as the teacher of her son, I wouldn’t. Besides, Nezu hooked me up to a few dating sites. Did you know that Kayama gave him some pointers?”

“Oh, yeah, that sounds like her. Did she set up a profile for you too?”

It’s only later that night, that he allows himself to think.

In the darkness of his office the glow of his screen is too bright for his tired eyes, though he doesn’t allow himself to lower the brightness, reveling in the way it hurts.

It’s not distracting enough though, the lump in his throat to thick to swallow around.

Shouta’s been looking at his profile for a while now, disagreeing with a few answers and yet unable to change them.

Kayama had come up with them, had thought them up with her lack of common sense and her uncalled affection. She’d thought about him, worried about him, made plans for him despite knowing he’d never agree to it.

Grief still sits heavy on his chest, no matter how long it’s been.

It’s only when he hears the dial tone that he realizes he’s picked up his phone and called. By now it’s too late to check who he’s going to wake up.

“Hello?” You sound way too alert for this late at night.

“Hi,” he clears his throat awkwardly. “Sorry, wrong number, I wanted to-”

“It’s fine,” your voice is too soft. His hand clenches around his phone and he swallows thickly, giving you too much time to talk on. “I wanted to talk to you anway.”

“What about?” He’s not sure if he manages to sound as professional as he wants to.

“You first.”

Shouta scoffs. “Like I said, I called you on accident, I-”

“Have you always been a bad liar or is it just around me?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re too nosy for your own good?”

“No, but I’m taking it as a compliment. You’re not one to call people on accident. And while my Quirk doesn’t work through the phone I’m not deaf. You’re troubled by something.”

Shouta sighs. “If you’re as perceptive as you pretend to be right now, you might have noticed that I don’t do talking about feelings.”

“Mhm,” he hears some shuffling in the background, “do you want me to tell you something? Distract you from whatever you’re feeling?”

“You may,” he offers, which is the closest he’s going to get to actually admitting to something.

More shuffling. A quiet, drawn out breath.

“I’m scared,” you admit. “Have you ever liked someone so much that losing them would destroy you?”

“Tenko?”

You sniffle. “These are my boys,” you whisper wetly. “I can’t lose them.”

A single tear slips down his cheek and he wipes it away unhurried. “You’re not going to lose them.”

“How do you know?” You ask. “There’s… There are too many possibilities. A Pro Hero’s job-”

“You’re not going to lose them,” he insists, because he needs it to be true. “Nothing’s going to happen to Hitoshi, I’ll make sure of it.”

You laugh lightly. “Listen to us, Shouta. Worried sick, when nothing’s happening.”

He snorts softly as well. “You started it.” Maybe if he keeps talking, he can forget the way his first name sounded slipping from your lips like that.

“Did I?”

“What’s he doing right now?”

“Ah,” there’s a creaking sound and he can picture you, leaning in the doorway of Hitoshi’s room. “He’s sleeping, face down like a weirdo. Wonder who he gets that from?”

Shouta opens his mouth to answer when he hears your breath hitch.

“Did you wake up? Ah, come here Baby. Shh, it’s alright, Mom’s gotcha.”

Shouta listens, eyes closed, as you mumble soothing nonsense to Tenko.

“You still there?” You ask eventually, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Had nowhere else to go.”

“Boo,” you tease him lightly. “Though I know how you feel. Tenko’s sleeping in my lap and I’m not allowed to move. Tell me why you called?”

It’s not the least bit subtle and maybe that’s why he answers.

“Grief hits you weird sometimes.”

You don’t interrupt when he falls quiet after this and he blinks against the brightness of his screen, looking at the neat rows of text, at the jokes a person wrote who’s no longer with him.

“A friend of mine set up a dating profile for me a while back,” he admits to it slowly, “I can’t bring myself to delete it. Isn’t that weird?”

“Your friend died?”

“Yeah.”

“What were they like?”

Shouta laughs, thinking of Kayama. It comes out lighter than he expected, drawing out words he hadn’t thought in a while. It’s so easy to talk about her to you. Maybe because you’ve never met her, or maybe because he thinks you’d like her. Kayama would have liked you for sure.

“And Oboro-” He shuts his mouth with a click at the mention of his name, closes his eyes against the brightness of his screen.

You do nothing to cut through the silence. He’s got half a mind to wonder if you fell asleep on him though he’s too busy corralling in his grief to speak up.

“Did you know that you hide your emotions behind your ribs?” You ask all of a sudden, making him blink.

“What?”

“I was just thinking about it. Everyone’s got their preferred spot. Hitoshi swallows them down until he feels physically sick. Yamada, your blond friend, tucks them into his sleeves. That’s why he either gestures a lot or freezes like a deer in headlights. You tuck them behind your ribs. It probably hurts you to breathe when they overwhelm you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Not that I’m in a position to tell you what to do, but if you want, you can follow along with my breathing. Let out some of the feelings you’ve been hiding for too long, lest they fester.”

You say nothing more. All he can hear now is the way you breathe, in and out, in and out. It’s not that hard to follow along.

“I should get to bed,” he points out eventually, shutting off his computer. Shouta doesn’t really want to stop talking to you, though he has no reason to continue. This has been weird. It will be even weirder to look you in the eyes the next time you meet.

“Shouta?”

“Yeah?”

“I’d love to take Eri once or twice a week. I just have a lot on my table at the moment. A few more projects to finish so I get a bit more time off to train Tenko.”

“That’s no problem. You can tell me when you’re ready.”

“Same.”

He gets up from his chair, his back stiff. He should really tell you goodnight.

“Shouta?”

“Yeah?”

“About that dating profile…”

“You think I should use it?” He’s not sure what his voice is doing. Is he trying to be funny or trying to be serious? Shouta hopes you’re able to decide for yourself.

“Forget I mentioned it,” you say, your voice terse all of a sudden. It’s a crack in the perfect picture he’s had of you all night, lets him remember you’re human too.

“Sleep well,” he tells you, suddenly able to tear himself away. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

“You too.”

Chapter 17 Notes:

I am equally sorry and not sorry for the chapter ahead. I hope you can forgive me considering I posted a little earlier!

Chapter Text

-x- Shimura Tenko -x-

Tenko’s tired.

This morning, he dared to hug Toshi goodbye. Toshi’s not soft, like Mom, but he smells good and he gives him funny pats on the back.

After breakfast, they went on a walk with Mud and saw three cats but after the walk, Mom made him go see the doctor.

It wasn’t too bad. The Doctor is a nice lady and she gave him a lollipop for being real brave. But she did poke his cheek twice and Mom said he’s getting something special for bathtime from the pharmacy later. At the pharmacy he got a balloon and Mom blew it up so he could hold it in the car.

Now they’re home again and he wants to sleep, but Mom won’t carry him around.

“I need to cook,” she says, “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Up!” He insists. “Please?”

Mom sighs and Tenko freezes. Is she getting angry with him now? Should he have behaved better?

“How about that, huh?” She takes his hand and leads him to the Couch. “Let’s sit down for a bit. I can’t carry you around right now, baby, because I need to cook and I think you need some sleep. How about we snuggle on the Couch a little instead?”

Tenko pushes his lip out, unsure how to respond. Mud yips at Mom’s feet, barely managing to climb onto the Couch to snuggle up to him as well.

“Fine,” he huffs when she pulls him in, slipping his hand into her armpit and tucking his head under her chin. Mud’s fur tickles his bare feet.

Mom starts humming something and it sounds almost like a cat purring, the sound so funny that Tenko feels himself getting heavier and heavier and-

“Well, his room looks nice.”

Tenko blinks. He can’t see. He blinks again, realizing his face is snuggled into a blanket.

“Coffee?” Mom asks and Tenko manages to pull the blanket away.

He’s fallen asleep on the Couch, Mud curled up next to him.

Mom’s gotten up without him noticing. She’s standing by the stairs, next to Uncle Keigo and someone he doesn’t know.

“Oh, you’re awake.” Uncle Keigo waves at him. “Did we wake you up?”

“No,” Tenko insists. “I wasn’t sleeping.”

“Sure,” Uncle Keigo winks at him funny. “This is a friend of mine, Hagiwara-san. She wanted to meet you.”

“Why?” Tenko asks. “I’ve got Mom now.”

“Right, right.”

“Hagiwara-san wants to make sure you’ve got a nice place with us,” Mom explains, walking over. She feels cold when she picks him up from the Couch and Tenko tugs on the thick bracelets she’s wearing.

“They’re cold,” he complains.

“Sorry,” Mom apologizes. “Are you hungry? I was making Yakisoba.”

Tenko eyes Hagiwara-san. She’s got a round face, like the moon, but she’s not smiling.

His cheek itches and he scratches it, again and again, unable to keep looking away from that moon face.

“Come,” Mom takes his other hand as well, tugging him forward a little. “Let’s have a bite. Are you hungry, Takami-san? Hagiwara-san?”

“No thank you,” Hagiwara-san says. Uncle Keigo asks for coffee, pinching Tenko in the side when he passes.

Mud runs after them, resting by his chair when they sit.

“So you’ve met a doctor today, Tenko?” Hagiwara-san asks when Mom puts his plate down.

Tenko looks at Mom, but she nods. “Tell her, Tenko. She just wants to ask a few questions.”

“The Doctor was nice,” Tenko looks at Uncle Keigo instead. Uncle Keigo’s always smiling. “She gave me a lollipop, but she poked my cheek.”

“She thinks it might be atopic eczema,” Mom explains and Tenko blinks up at her, at the unfamiliar word.

“I got special stuff for bathtime,” he remembers. “Just for myself.”

“How do you like your room?” Uncle Keigo asks.

“It’s big,” Tenko explains. “I can’t sleep, but Toshi takes me to see Mom when I wake up and I sit with her until I fall asleep.”

“You like Hitoshi?”

“Yeah,” Tenko nods. “He’s a bit scary because he’s so tall, but he’s nice.” He remembers something and smiles. “And he can make funny voices too!”

“Did you meet anyone else?”

“Yes. Eri and her Dad and Uncle Zashi. He’s got hair like banana, he’s funny too.”

“Aizawa-Sensei and Yamada-Sensei came by last Sunday. They’re close with Hitoshi,” Mom explains, handing him a cup of juice.

Hagiwara-san asks a lot of questions. Tenko tries to ignore her, because he’s hungry and the Yakisoba is really good, but Mom makes him answer all of them.

“Now, would you please leave us alone for a moment?” Hagiwara-san looks at Mom. Mom nods and gets up and Tenko lunges forward to grab her hand.

“Don’t go,” he insists. “Please!”

He doesn’t want to be left alone with Hagiwara-san. She doesn’t smile, at all.

Uncle Keigo smiles at him, but that’s not the same.

“I’ll be in the living room,” Mom promises, but Tenko doesn’t let go, can feel tears drip down his cheeks. He doesn’t want to cry, but he can’t let her go.

“Please!” He sobs. “Please!”

Mom sits down again and lets him climb into her lap, rubs her hand over his back as he tucks his head under her chin and slips his hand into her armpit.

Tenko can hear her heart beat, the thump thump thump so much nicer than anything else he’s ever heard.

He can hear her talking too, but he doesn’t want to know what she’s saying for as long as she keeps holding onto him.

-x- You -x-

The door clicks shut behind Keigo, who’s had the decency to walk Hagiwara-san and himself out.

Mud is whining to your feet, the distress of his favorite human, Tenko, too much for him to bear.

You’re hungry. You haven’t had a chance to eat yourself, not that you’d have been able to eat with Hagiwara-san’s eyes on you and Tenko’s distress palpable like that, even without your Quirk.

Your wrists hurt from the weight of the Quirk cancelling bracelets, though that could be just your imagination. You had to wear them from the moment they came in for their surprise visit to when they left minutes ago and though you know the reasoning behind it, it leaves a stale taste in your mouth.

“Are you doing better, Tenko?” You ask the little boy who’s trying his best to merge with you.

He shakes his head and you continue to rub his back, up and down, up and down.

Your mind is still reeling.

Today must have been a lot for him. The Doctor, who he felt scared off for the first fifteen minutes until her smile - and the gift of a lollipop - warmed him up to her.

The pharmacy, filled with people he anxiously watched, and then, at home, his desire to be in arms reach of you, always, even when sleep calls.

Hagiwara-san would have tested his limits every day of the week, but today has simply been to much for him.

“Shall we sit on the Couch?” You ask Tenko. “Let Mud snuggle up to us? He’s worried about you.”

“Don’t go.”

“I’m not leaving, Honey. I’m just looking for a spot that’s more comfortable.”

“Fine.”

Your mind replays the conversation you’ve had. Tenko’s answers, naive and stubborn and so endeared to you and Hitoshi already.

Hagiwara-san’s muttered comment of “I am aware of Shinsou Hitoshi, thank you,” when Keigo had turned to her with a comment.

You lift Tenko, still deep in thought, and move to cross the short distance to the Couch, bring the two of you in a more comfortable position.

You’ll eat later, when he’s had a second nap and feels hopefully better about this.

A shadow at the door alerts you. You stop to peek outside, only to heave a sigh and open the door.

“Keigo?”

“Hey,” he smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Thought I’d come back to check on you. Is he good?”

“Could be better,” you let him in and settle down, Mud licking Tenko’s bare legs to comfort him.

“Uncle Keigo’s here,” you tell him, but he keeps his head tucked away.

“Don’t wanna,” he grumbles back and you let him. He’s had a though day.

“Sorry about that,” Keigo apologizes and settles on the far end of the Couch, eyeing the two of you. “I know Hagiwara-san’s a lot, but I had not much choice but to bring her.”

“I get it,” you drag your hand through Tenko’s hair, feel him finally relax a little. “Today’s been a lot for him.”

“About that,” Keigo leans back and lets his eyes travel through the room. “Have you noticed he seems to act… younger?”

You look down at Tenko, feel his drawn out breaths tickle your skin. He’s close to falling asleep again.

“I don’t blame him,” you tell Keigo. “To think he’s finally allowing himself to be a kid. Of course he’d try to make up for lost time.”

“At three years old?”

“Even at three years old.”

Keigo sighs. “Hagiwara-san’s going to come back, you know?”

“Sure. I have nothing to hide. Now, if you wanna be a dear, can you grab me an apple from the kitchen? I’m starving.”

You’re not surprised to find Tenko on top of the stairs again that night, about an hour after he fell asleep.

“Looking for me?” You ask, putting the fresh cup of tea down you had brewed for work.

“Where’s Toshi?”

“He’s out studying with a friend,” you drag a hand through Tenko’s dark curls. “He’ll be back later. He asked if he could bring a friend or two tomorrow, if that’s okay with you.”

Tenko nods. “If they’re nice.”

You smile. “I’ll let him know. Do you want to sit with me while I work?”

Tenko nods, holding onto your hand as you walk over the desk in the corner and pull him into your lap.

He curls into you, head tucked under your chin, his hand tucked into your armpit.

“Comfortable?” You ask, squeezing his hand under your arm until he giggles.

“It’s warm,” he explains. “I like it.”

“I know,” you gently pat his back. “I used to do that too, as a kid. With my Dad.”

“Your Dad?”

“Mhm. Do you wanna know about him?”

“Mhm.”

“Once upon a time, there was a man with scarlet hair and snow-white teeth. He grew up poor, wearing shoes he found on the street and clothes made from pillowcases. He dreamt of a world where he’d have it all, all the money to buy what he desired, all the food he could ever dream of eating. He wanted everyone to know his name, whisper it in awe when he passed by them. His name was-” You hesitate, just a second long.

Tenko’s sunken into you, a heavy, warm weight. He’s already asleep.

You bend down to press a kiss to the top of his head and let him sleep. You can tell him the story a different time.

-x- Shinsou Hitoshi -x-

“Tired?” Shouta asks as he takes another turn. Hitoshi can see his home at the end of the street, welcoming him. He yawns as if to answer his teachers question.

“Didn’t think patrol would be so-” He cuts off with a strangled gasp.

The emotion hits him all at once, so strong it takes him a second to recognize it, his heart struggling for the next beat.

Is it homesickness if all you’re missing is a person and not a home?

Hitoshi hasn’t thought about his mother in so long, the thought of her has him reeling, tears dripping down his cheek.

“This isn’t real,” Shouta promises on his left, one hand curling painfully around his arm. “This isn’t real, Hitoshi, do you hear me?”

“But-”

“It’s your Foster Mother. It must be. I-I can feel it too.” His voice is strangled as he parks the car.

Hitoshi’s out first, racing up the stairs, his stomach revolting. He wants to go home, but he’s no longer sure where home is. With you, purple hair, bright smile, a hand in his hair? Or with his mother? The memories are fuzzy but he can see her still, the purple of her hair so much darker than his, her sunken eyes, her brittle skin, the easy laugh she used to carry around like one does a gift.

It’s Shouta who opens the door for him, his breathing ragged even as he does so.

The living room is dark, only lit by the glow of your computer screen. You’re sleeping in the chair in front of it, head tipped back, Tenko pressed to your chest.

“She must be having nightmares,” Shouta grits through his teeth and his Quirk flickers alive, his eye glowing red just long enough for the emotion to cut off.

The absence of it is is so abrupt, Hitoshi has to gag as his stomach settles again, stumbling over to grasp your shoulder.

You jerk awake, flinch back, your hold on Tenko tightening.

“You-” Hitoshi starts before having to turn away, fighting against the urge to throw up.

“What happened?” You ask, clearly distressed.

“Your Quirk got out of hand,” Shouta explains from the doorway. “I think your mother is awake now as well.”

The warning comes not a second too early.

Yokoyama-san pushes past him, a crying toddler on every arm.

“Love, are you okay?” She asks. “The kids woke me up, I only felt it just now-”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “I wasn’t aware- I… But Tenko didn’t wake up?”

“He didn’t need to,” Shouta points out. “You missed your mother. He slept knowing you were already holding him.”

Without his teacher present, Hitoshi might have crawled into your arms as well.

But he’s not about to show this much weakness after proving himself during patrol.

Still, when he takes Tenko from you he does it with the resolve to slip into your bed as well.

“Toshi?” The boy mumbles as Hitoshi carries him down the hallway.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m just taking you to bed.”

“Where’s Mom?”

“Downstairs. I just came home.”

“Mhm,” Tenko starts rubbing his eyes. “Wanna go back to Mom.”

“I know,” Hitoshi pushes open your bedroom door. “She’s coming up in a minute. I’ll stay with you till then.”

Tenko looks up at him, wide eyes and warm breath, one hand slowly slipping into Hitoshi’s armpit, tickling him.

He’d be lying if he said he’s no longer reeling from the emotional turmoil he just went through, but this small face looking up at him with so much trust is like a remedy he never knew he could need.

“Did you have a nice day?” Hitoshi asks, taking a seat on your bed. Mud, Tenko’s trusty guardian, climbs onto it seconds later, an exhausted mess of furry limbs that sinks into Hitoshi’s side.

“I went to see the Doctor,” Tenko tells him quietly, resting his head against Hitoshi’s chest. “I got a Lollipop.”

“Was it a good one?”

“Mhm. But Hagiwara-san was mean.”

“Who’s that?”

Tenko yawns. “Mean lady. Uncle Keigo brought her.”

“Sorry bout that.”

“Mom said you wanna bring friends home?”

“True,” Hitoshi grins at Tenko’s quick-moving mind. “One of my friends knew your Dad, I think.”

“Is he old?”

“Not really.”

“Mhm.” Tenko blinks sluggishly. “Toshi?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re nice.”

“Thanks, you too.”

Tenko nods, closing his eyes. “I like being your brother,” he admits, his voice small.

Hitoshi swallows thickly, though his words come out sincere. “Me too.”

Tenko’s fast asleep by the time you step into your bedroom and Hitoshi’s on his way to follow him, blinking slowly as you approach him.

“Hitoshi?” Your hand is warm on his face, soft as you brush away his hair. “How was Patrol?”

“Exhausting,” he slurs. Then, not quite willingly, he adds: “Missed you.”

“Missed you too,” you lean in to press a kiss to his forehead. “Sleep. I’ll take care.”

“Mom?” His brain won’t quite let him slip away. “Is it weird… that I still miss… my… Mom?”

“It would be weird if you didn’t,” you tell him. “Would mean you gave up on her entirely. You’re a good boy. Always looking for the good in others.”

“Sucks,” he admits and hears you laugh. “Yeah, Hitoshi. It sucks a lot.”

“You’re a good Mom,” he tells you, his eyes finally slipping shut. “Glad you’re here.”

“You’re a good son,” is the last he hears.

-x- You -x-

You stay a little longer than necessary, just to watch them sleep.

Tenko’s curled up right on Hitoshi’s chest, his black curls tickling his brother’s chin.

Careful not to wake them, you snap a picture, before brushing back Hitoshi’s hair one more time, rubbing your thumb over the crease between his eyebrows.

Always worrying, even in his sleep.

Your mother has left by the time you walk downstairs, though Shouta’s still sitting on your Couch, staring into a cup of coffee.

For the first time in forever you wish for a different Quirk.

“How’s Eri?” You ask, hoping against hope that talking about her will hide his emotions from you, at least the ones you don’t want to see.

His eye is dark and cool when it snaps up to look at you.

He doesn’t answer, his emotions swirling around him, fogging up the living room. You wish you could close yourself off, could shut your Quirk away as easily as closing your eyes.

But you’ll still feel them, even if you look away.

“Your mother is still alive?” You ask, swallowing your anxiety as you resolve to face this head on.

“Yes,” Shouta drops back into the cushions. “Thankfully.”

“I’m sorry about-”

“Don’t.” He sighs, repeats it in a whisper. “Don’t.”

“What’s going to happen now?”

“Nothing,” he rubs a tired hand over his healthy eye, blinking. “Nothing’s going to happen. What am I supposed to do? Report you? Risk Hitoshi’s and Tenko’s well being?”

“Nothing happened.”

“This time.”

You take a step forward, open your mouth to defend yourself before closing it again.

“I don’t know why-” You swallow, sigh, shake your head. “I know why it happened. Exhaustion. Sensitive topics. Unresolved emotions.”

“So?”

“It won’t happen again.” Weirdly, you feel like a student again, called out for misbehaving. You raise your eyes to Shouta to realize he’s feeling the same, reversed.

Disgusted, he wipes a hand over his face.

“No one’s perfect,” he admits, getting up. “I should get back.”

“Wait,” you hesitate, regretting your outburst immediately. You swallow. “I- I get why you feel the way you feel. Naked,” you bite back a groan at the word choice, “vulnerable, see-through. I can… I can’t help that, but I can even the playing field.”

“How?”

You offer him your hand, palm up. “My Quirk goes both ways. I can’t promise you’ll feel better about yourself, but I could understand if you would, knowing as much about me as I know about you.”

You’re not sure what you hope for, but you realize you doubted him when his hand curls around yours.

You close your eyes to block him out and let lose the restraints, though you have to be careful to contain your emotion to him and him only.

There are things you don’t even want your mother to know.

You think of Hitoshi, Tenko, even Eri. All the children that have stepped foot into your house. You think of Keigo and how you’ve never felt more like a sister than you do with him, nowadays. There’s the doubt and all the insecurity, your pride when your work’s been good and the anxiety when you look at all the deadlines still looming over your head.

Loneliness, longing, anger, that bubbling kind of laughter, everything you’ve felt today.

And just when you think you’ve seen it all, Shouta’s thumb twitches, gracing your knuckle and your heart leaps in the most embarassing way.

It’s the weird way he smiles and the fact he’s not ashamed to run around looking like a homeless person, the direct way he calls you out and the sweetness with which he cares for Eri. It’s feeling understood and exasperated at the same time, wanting to be close and wanting to be far away every second he’s near.

Shouta drops your hand and you pull back, cradle it against your chest as if it’s Tenko and not a part of you.

Maybe, you realize a little too late, this has been a bad idea from the start.

“It goes without saying,” Shouta points out, his voice rough, “that I’d never date the mother of one of my students.”

“Right,” you swallow, unable to read him amidst the mess of your own emotions. “Likewise. I’d never date a teacher of my children.”

Shouta nods, his eye unfocused.

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” He turns away, one hand up in something like a wave. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Shouta.”

The door closes behind him with a click.

For the first time in a long time, you feel like something’s missing in this little life of yours.

Chapter 18 Chapter Text

-x- Shinsou Hitoshi -x-

“Are you sure this is fine?” Midoriya asks, moving from one foot to the other in the entryway.

“I told you it’s fine,” Hitoshi insists. “Mom said they went out to grab Pizza for Dinner, she’ll be back in a minute.”

“But Tenko-” Midoriya adds, clearly at the edge of an anxiety attack.

“My little brother,” Hitoshi explains to Shoji, who’s just put his shoes aside. “By the way, Shoji, if Tenko acts scared of you, it’s nothing personal, he’s scared of everyone he doesn’t know.”

“I understand,” Shoji nods. “It must be hard coming into a new family. How old is he?”

“Three and a half. He’s pretty cute, you’ll see. Do you wanna go upstairs while we wait? I’m not sure we’ll be able to get much done down here.”

“Sure,” Shoji nods and tags after him, calling after Midoriya once more when the other boy doesn’t catch up right away.

Not for the first time Hitoshi’s glad that Aizawa-Senseiput him in a group with Shoji for this project. Shoji’s quiet, calm and reliable and he balances Midoriya’s anxiety well.

Even now, as Midoriya gets distracted by the All Might poster on the wall, Shoji pulls him back to focus.

It doesn’t take long for them to get back to what they’re here for, cracking down on what they still need to get done.

“We’re home!” Your voice calls out from downstairs, followed by the sound of eager footsteps coming up the stairs.

His door is open and Tenko appears, hair disheveled, cheeks rosy.

“Toshi! I got to pick the Pizza!” He calls out before realizing that Hitoshi’s not alone.

Mud yips by his feet and Hitoshi waves at his little brother, hopes that his smile is enough to comfort Tenko..

“Hey. What did you get for us? This is Shoji and this is Midoriya, they are my friends.”

“H-Hi!” Tenko sputters, hands curled into the doorframe.

Hitoshi gets up, walks over and offers his hand. Tenko takes it, curls both arms around him, clearly distressed.

“They won’t bite,” Hitoshi mumbles quietly. “I promise. Do you want to get to know them or should I take you down to Mom?”

“Mom, please,” Tenko whispers and Hitoshi nods, picking him up.

“Let’s go downstairs guys. It’s time for Dinner.”

“Ah, Midoriya,” you ruffle his hair as he greets you before offering your hand to Shoji. “And you are?”

“Shoji Mezo, Ma’am. Thank you for your hospitality.”

“It’s no problem, really.” You turn to Hitoshi who’s the last to come down the stairs, Tenko’s arms already outstretched.

“Oh, did you get scared?” You take the little boy and let him press against your chest. “Don’t you want to get to know these boys a little better? They must be nice if Hitoshi brought them with.”

Hitoshi chuckles and sidesteps you, pulling out a chair. “Ooh, good choice with the Pizza, Tenko.”

Since your hands are momentarily occupied, he takes it upon himself to distribute some pieces to everyone’s plate, stopping only once to turn to Shoji.

“I know you eat with your other mouths sometimes. Do whatever you feel comfortable with, no one cares about manners here.”

“Okay,” Shoji nods, eventually settling on pulling off his mask to eat.

Tenko, sitting in your lap instead of his own chair, looks curiously up at him.

“Did you always have this many hands?” He asks Shoji, braver now that he feels safe.

“No, I was born with two,” Shoji explains calmly. “Quirks develop around the age of four, and there was a time around my fourth birthday when my arms would constantly hurt and my jaw as well. They grew so slowly at first that I didn’t notice until the last stretch, which happened one night.”

Tenko’s eyes widen and he turns to look up at you. “Could that happen to me too?” He asks. “Could it?”

“I don’t think so,” you say. “It happens, but it’s unlikely to have a vastly different Quirk than your parents.”

Tenko blinks and turns back to Shoji. “Do you have a dangerous Quirk?”

“No,” Shoji shakes his head slightly. “My Quirk itself is not dangerous. It’s just that people think I’m scary from the way I look.”

“Oh,” Tenko blinks up at him. “But you don’t look scary. You look funny. I like you.”

Pink spreads across Shoji’s cheeks and Hitoshi averts his eyes to give him a moment.

Midoriya, on his left, is weirdly quiet, though his lips are moving without stopping.

“Midoriya?” You ask, no doubt sensing more than Hitoshi. “You okay?”

“F-Fine, I’m fine, totally f-fine!” He insists. “I just couldn’t help- I noticed- I mean I saw-”

“Yes?”

“Tenko looks exactly like his Dad, doesn’t he?” Midorya presses through his teeth, his scarred hands clenching into fists.

“So I’ve been told,” you comment calmly, your eyes searching for Hitoshi’s, your shoulders relaxing only when he gives you a curt nod.

“I do?” Tenko asks, turning to Midoriya. “Did you know him?”

“I did,” Midoriya’s voice is tense. “He was a-” He breaks off. “You look just like him.”

Tenko doesn’t seem to consider that tidbit interesting. Instead, he looks up at the green cloud of curls atop Midoriya’s head and breaks into a smile.

“I like your hair. It’s green. Like a lizard!”

They’re on the last stretch when the door to his room opens again, Tenko hanging onto the doorknob with all his might.

“Yeah?” Hitoshi looks over. “You need something, Bug?”

“I’ve got a book,” Tenko exclaims. “I wanna show you.”

“Well, come one then,” Hitoshi pats the spot next to him. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Tenko hesitates before he pushes himself forward, stumbling through the room on unsteady feet, Mud, as usual, hot on his tail.

Hitoshi catches him under the arms and lifts him onto his bed, checking in with Midiroya swiftly. “Yeah, that paragraph, I agree.”

“See?” Tenko pulls on his sleeve. “Toshi, look!”

“I’m looking, I’m looking,” Hitoshi claims, turning back.

Tenko’s got his book open and points at a tall green lizard that walks along a stone path, wearing a top hat and a fancy cane. “He’s green, like…” Tenko’s grey eyes move toward Midoriya, no doubt struggling to remember his name.

“Midoriya,” Hitoshi helps him, unsurprised when green eyes cut over instantly.

Tenko struggles with the long name, a tongue twister in its own right.

“You can also call me Izuku, if you want,” Midoriya offers. “That’s my first name. O-or Deku.”

“Zuku,” Tenko decides with a relieved smile, going back to his book, pointing at the lizard again. “This is Zuku.”

“You wanna see, Midoriya?” Hitoshi asks, waiting for the boy to come over. He’s not surprised to see tears forming, though Midoriya catches himself before he starts sobbing outright.

“Shoji,” Tenko says than, pointing at something else on the page. “This is Shoji.”

They all lean in to see better and Hitoshi has to fight not to snort.

Shoji, at least in little Tenko’s eyes, is a fat spider with giant legs, asking the elegant lizard for help.

“I don’t think he knows what an octopus is,” Hitoshi whispers, reaching out to pat Tenko’s hair. “He just saw all those legs and went from there.”

“Thank you, Tenko,” Shoji tells him earnestly. “I like it.”

Tenko smiles proudly, pulling on Hitoshi’s sleeve once more.

“Toshi,” he declares pointedly. “I need to pee. Help?”

Hitoshi sighs, getting up. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Tenko’s sleeping soundly in your arms by the time his friends leave, so he misses both of them softly patting his hair and Midoriya’s parting tears.

“He’s doing better with strangers,” Hitoshi points out, taking a seat on the Couch. Mildew arrives to curl up in his lap and he pats her absentmindedly. “Is that idea with Eri coming over still on the table?”

“Not sure,” you say, your eyes focused on your screen. “I told Aizawa-san that I currently don’t have the bandwidth to look after two children at the same time, at least not until I have finished a few more projects. Why?”

Hitoshi halts, brows furrowed. You haven’t called Shouta Aizawa-san in a long time.

“Did you guys fight?”

“Who?”

“You and Shouta.”

“No, Hitoshi, we didn’t fight.” Your voice is carefully void of emotion though, a clear sign you’re not telling him everything.

“But something happened.”

You sigh. “You’re thinking too much.”

“And you’re not telling me enough.” He pulls out his phone, jostling Mildew in the process. She mewls and leaves him, clearly annoyed with his treatment of her. “Neito spent his afternoon at the agency, I can just ask him if you want.”

“Do that, if you think it’s necessary,” you tell him, your voice pointedly calm.

Swallowing uncomfortably, he types a message.

Neito answers almost immediately.

“So?”

“He doesn’t know anything,” Hitoshi harrumphs. “What happened?”

“Some things, love, are not meant for the ears of children.”

“I’m seventeen.”

You turn to throw him a look. “You’re still my child.”

“I’m not,” he insists, anger lacing his tone. “You’re supposed to be my big sister.”

“Call it what you want, Hitoshi, I am your guardian.”

“Since when are you so stubborn?”

Your shoulders are tense. You don’t turn to look at him for a while and he waits, anger bubbling in his veins.

“I’m sorry if this upsets you, but I will not discuss this with you.”

“Why not?!”

Tenko wakes in your arms, crying out in confusion. You sway him softly, throwing Hitoshi a pointed glance.

“Whatever!” He scoffs, storming up the stairs.

He’s too annoyed to text Denki or Neito at the moment.

It’s not like they’ve done much match-making recently, too busy with school and the preparation for their internship. But he’d felt like they’d gotten at least somewhere, in their efforts.

Hitoshi’s not sure what annoys him more. That he’s back at zero or that you’re not talking to him about it.

You’ve told him everything else before. What’s so different about it now?

“Hitoshi?” You knock softly on his door. “Can we talk?”

“No,” he turns in his bed, back to the door, just in case you come in. “I want to sleep.”

“I don’t want you to go to bed angry.”

“Well, you should have thought about that earlier,” he points out cooly. “Goodnight.”

-x- You -x-

Hitoshi’s anger has simmered into something quieter and uglier over night.

He keeps his distance in the morning, even half-asleep, pretending not to hear you when you address him. At least he stays soft with Tenko, who thinks it’s funny his big brother suddenly turned deaf.

At least until Hitoshi leaves without hugging you goodbye.

“Is he mad?” Tenko asks when the door closes and you’re left alone.

“Yes, Bug, he is.”

“Why?”

You sigh. “It’s a little complicated. Do you wanna help me do the dishes?”

“Do I have to?”

You laugh, surprised at his honesty. “No, Bug, you can play with Mud if you want. It will only take me a minute.”

You’re glad he’s being honest with you.

It’s another step forward to what could be considered a “normal” family life. Only when he truly feels comfortable can you expect him to be honest with you.

It’s the same with Hitoshi, truly.

He wouldn’t dare to be mad at you, to show it like this, if he didn’t think himself safe with you.

Though that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.

“Look what I got you,” you grab a box from the pantry and put them down in front of Tenko.

Inside are wooden cubes about the size of his palm, all painted in different colors.

“Wood?”

“Yes,” you laugh. “Though these cubes are special. They are colorful and smooth and easy to hold. You’ll see why this is important. I want you to pick a color that best matches what you’re feeling right now.”

Focused, Tenko moves them around, finally landing on a pastell yellow cube.

“Okay, I want you to hold it up, just with four fingers at the moment, can you do that?”

Tenko nods and does as he’s told.

“Focus on what you’re feeling. And where you’re feeling it. And then imagine you’re putting that feeling into the cube.”

“How?”

“Don’t think too much about it. Imagine it first.”

His brows furrows as he tries.

“That’s good, love. Now try it with all five fingers.”

Tenko looks stricken.

“You’ve got your glove on, baby, it’s okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. We’re training right now. I want you to be mindful of what you’re doing with your hands, but that doesn’t mean you can never use all five fingers.”

You try it a few more times, switching out the color in between when Tenko admits he no longer feels yellow.

Eventually, you have him stop.

“You can pick a cube of the day. It doesn’t have to fit your emotion, but I want you to carry it with you wherever you go. When you feel something strongly, imagine yourself putting it in to the Cube. That doesn’t mean you no longer have the emotion, but it won’t be as strong in your body. So when you’re angry or confused or afraid, you can put that emotion in the cube and think better.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” Tenko asks, blinking up at you. “When you get mad at Toshi?”

“Something like that, Baby. I always put my emotion in my feet.” You wiggle your toes around until he laughs. “It’s so close to the ground I can let it slip out of me when it gets to much.”

You’ve just put Tenko down for a nap when the doorbell rings.

You expect Keigo, maybe Hagiwara-san or even Aizawa, though all of these are wrong.

“All-All Might?” You stare in shock at the figure in front of you, a shadow of his former self.

“Ah,” he rubs a hand over his neck, grimacing. “I hoped I could get by unrecognized. Please, call me Toshinori.”

“Can I help you?”

“Maybe? I- Tsukauchi, you see, he told me-”

“Yes?”

“You have a son? From the Shimura family?”

“Yes?”

“Would it be terribly forward to ask if I could meet him?”

You hesitate. “He’s taking a nap at the moment.”

“It’s okay,” Toshinori waves his hands around awkwardly. “I came by unannounced. I just- I learned of his father’s existence much to late. You should know, Nana Shimura, your son’s great grandmother, was a dear friend to me. My Mentor.”

He oozes kindness and wears his emotions openly, a hint of guilt and lots of nostalgia.

You sigh. “Come in,” you let him step through. “But be quiet. Tenko’s hard to put back to sleep.”

“Tenko?” Toshinori nods slowly. “That was his fathers name too, before he changed it.”

You lead him up the stairs, watch quietly from the door as Tenko’s chest rises and falls with each breath, his black curls like ink stains on the pillow. Mud sleeps curled against his side and his two favorite plush toys sit guard in the corner of the bed.

“How is he?” Toshinori asks, his voice thick with emotion.

“Lovely,” you tell him honestly. “Both anxious and curious, stubborn and eager to please. He’s afraid of what his Quirk will be, but willing to learn how to control it.”

“Ah,” Toshinori nods. “I believe he’ll have his Fathers Quirk. All For One wouldn’t change it up too much. After all, he knows how much it pained me to see Nana’s family used like this. How much it pained her.”

“Do you-” You hesitate, though go through with it. “Do you want to talk about it? I can make us a cup of tea.”

He nods. “Why not? Let the boy sleep.”

“Mama?” A voice whispers behind you. You turn to find Tenko still deeply asleep, a gloved hand pressed to his lips as he dreams.

“One second,” you tell Toshinori and step inside, brush your hand through inky curls and press a kiss to Tenko’s forehead, leave him with the sweetest feelings of them all: Being loved.

“Tsukauchi told me a few things,” Toshinori admits as you digest what he’s told you.

About Nana, about himself, about all the things in between.

“I could pick out the rest. Poor Tomura.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t imagine that he ever felt truly loved. I’m sure All For One raised him, though in what way? A person incapable of love-”

“Do you think he knew-?”

“He would have been seventeen,” Toshinori points out calmly. “Or around that age. By the time we came across him, he was about twenty years old and acting like a spoiled kid. He would not have the care nor the foresight to do something like this. And why tell him? It would be better to let him think he’d be the end all, the culmination of his Masters plans.”

“And the mother?”

Toshinori sighs, taking a sip of his tea.

“Not much is known. Mentally instable, a broken home. She was older than Tomura by a bit, disappeared out of nowhere. The letter she left with the kid gave not much information. If they found her, Tsukauchi hasn’t told me.”

“What a world,” you sigh, lifting your head when you notice movement at the stairs.

“Hey,” you smile up at Tenko who’s peering down at you. “You’re awake. Wanna come downstairs? We have cookies.”

“Who’s that?” Tenko asks, his voice still thick with sleep.

“A friend,” you explain. “Toshinori knew your Great Grandmother.”

Tenko blinks. “Is he old?”

“Yes,” you giggle as Toshinori coughs into his fist. “Do you want to say hi?”

“Fine,” he huffs out, slowly climbing down the stairs. “My hand itches.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” You catch him at the last step, lift him up to press a kiss to his cheek. “We’ll put some balm on it right away.”

Tenko nods, though he keeps his eyes on Toshinori. “You look like All Might,” the boy points out after a while, unmoving as you take off one glove to rub balm into the red, raised skin.

“I do, yes,” Toshinori smiles. “You are very perceptive, young Tenko.”

Tenko considers that, turning the cube he had with him in his hands as he thinks.

“Are you All Might?”

“I am, yes.”

Tenko’s eyes widen, but you can tell he’s still a little too tired to grasp it all, heavy in your hold as you put the glove back on and tackle his other hand.

“Do you know Toshi?”

“Shinsou Hitoshi,” you explain quietly as you brush back Tenko’s curls. “He’s with us as well.”

“Oh, young Shinsou.” Toshinori smiles. “A brave young man.”

“He’s my brother,” Tenko points out, sliding down from your lap to pick a yellow cube from his box. “Do you want to practice with me?”

“Of course. How do we do it?”

Chapter 19 Notes:

Sorry for the delay, I am on vacation and getting a good internet connection is kinda hard

Chapter Text

-x- Shouta -x-
“And then I said, because of course I had to say something, you know, well then I said ‘Little Man! This is not the way we talk in this house!” and-”
“You said that?” Shouta asks, fighting to keep his voice sounding at least minimally engaged.
Bright eyes blink up at him for a second.
“Well, I thought it, you know, but he’s so young still, I couldn’t help myself-”
“Of course,” Shouta clears his throat awkwardly and reaches for his coffee only to find it empty. His mind starts to wander as the woman across from him continues to babble.
He could get himself another cup of coffee, though that would probably send the wrong signal.
Nakano Susume is a nice woman, sure, a civilian through and through, though Shouta could tell they weren’t going to work out the minute he met her. So far she hasn’t been able to stop talking for longer than a minute at least, interrupting him the only time he got more than five words out of his mouth.
She’s supposedly good with kids, or at least that’s what Nezu told him, but the longer he listens to her the less he agrees with that.
“Well, look at the time-” Shouta interrupts her, feeling not the least bit guilty. “I should get going.”
“Already?” Nakano pouts. “But we’ve had such a nice chat! I guess it can’t be helped, though, right? A Hero’s gotta do what a Hero’s gotta do. Do you have time on Friday, mayhaps? I’d love to go out for coffee again, but if you’d be more into dinner, that’s fine too. I can call my babysitter and-”
“It was nice getting to know you,” Shouta lies through his teeth, patting her hand like one would a dog. “But I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship yet.”
“Oh, of course,” Nakano nods, forcing her expressive face into something akin to understanding. “The loss of your wive must still be pretty fresh. But we could stay friends-”
“I don’t do friends,” Shouta cuts in. “Comes with the job, you know.”
“Oh.”
“Well, have a good day.” He pushes past her before she can start talking again, cursing his prosthetic leg. It has been hurting all day and it’s making his exit more difficult than it needs to be.
-
“No dice,” he texts Nezu as soon as he’s in the car. “She talks way too much. Not that good with children either.”
Shouta lets himself rest for a second, waiting for Nezu’s reply, closes his eyes against the harsh glare of the afternoon sun.
Eri is with his mother today, so he’s free to do what he pleases until dinnertime. He could visit the agency and see how his interns are doing, though Hitoshi has been in an awful mood today and he’s not sure he wants to bear the brunt of it.
His hand twitches toward his phone, the intention clear. It would be so easy to call or text you. And it would make sense, wouldn’t it?
Shouta scrolls through your chat, reading back all the messages. You’ve texted a lot after that first hesitant call, maybe more than he does with anyone else. It felt natural at that time, necessary even, to discuss Hitoshi’s state of mind, or how best to train Tenko’s Quirk ahead of time. Now he can’t help but wonder if he’d already been falling for you then.
When did your feelings for him start?
He can still feel them, like a heavy scarf around his neck, weighing him down.
It has shaken something lose inside him, that night. It sits in the hollow of his ribcage now, rolling around if he moves too much, a constant reminder that he’s not yet dead.
And there’s only one person he wants to talk about it with, though that person is sorely out of reach.
“What would you do?” Shouta thinks and says aloud, feeling pathetic as he does so.
Sinking into himself, he remembers.
Oboro had never been big on following protocol. He’d been open about his opinion, casual with his feelings. Not once had he been ashamed to curl a hand around Shouta, pulling him in, or telling his friends that he loved them dearly, just because he felt like it.
It’s such a difference to himself, and Shouta had always felt mildly envious about it, though now more than ever.
Shouta’s never been one to lean into the emotional side of things and he recognizes now that he’s never thought it possible of himself to do so.
But he has, violently so.
He finds his own emotions mirrored in yours.
That warm affection, trickling down his throat like hot chocolate and burning at the back of his eyes when he looks at Eri. She’s his in a way he could never have imagined.
It bubbles up in him everytime she quips, when she falls asleep curled up to the cats, when she draws another picture of them together, when she curls her hand around his pointer finger or tries to copy his grin in the mirror, not knowing that he’s watching.
That complicated pride and worry he feels for his class and, in addition, Kan’s class as well. They might not be his children, but they could as well be. He’s dried Midoriya’s tears and spent sleepless nights over Todoroki’s fate, has grown grey hairs correcting Kaminari’s tests and let the world know not to underestimate Bakugo.
He’s never been a big brother, but he might as well be, looking after them.
Being a teacher has never felt this way before.
And then there’s the loneliness, that he’s never noticed as much as he does now.
Lying awake at night, listening to Eri’s breathing in the other room, thinking about her growing up.
She’ll be a woman one day, with no one to guide her.
And what about Hitoshi? Who’ll make sure he doesn’t overwork himself? That at least he’ll have a work-life balance. A private life. A family to himself.
But he can’t think about Hitoshi without thinking of you. His eye flickering down to his phone, your profile picture open. Purple has never looked this good on someone.
Your smile feels like a rope around his heart, tightening.
Shouta’s always been proud of being himself. Even when people made fun of his appearance, or his boring Quirk, or his less than gentle way of teaching.
But he finds himself wavering now. Wanting to be different. Or at least… wanting to want to break the rules.
-
“What are you doing here?” Hitoshi asks, face set into a scowl.
“Driving you home,” Shouta clicks the door of his car shut, nodding at Neito. “You too. Get in. Is Hizashi still in there?”
“He’s talking to Funai-san.”
“Good. Are you guys hungry?”
“Starving,” Neito grins, though Hitoshi doesn’t seem inclined to share that sentiment.
“Come on,” Neito nudges him. “We could go for a bite to eat.”
“I’d rather go home,” Hitoshi grumbles, turning away.
Shouta bites down a sigh. So the boy’s angry at him too.
He catches Neito’s eye and nods, pulling out his wallet.
“Neito, if I give you my card, can I trust you to buy us some food without me checking on you?”
“Absolutely,” Neito thrusts his hand forward. “What’s the price limit?”
“Don’t go over 10.000 Yen and we’re good to go.”
“Nice,” Neito takes the card and leaves, Hitoshi moving to follow him.
“Ah,” Shouta pulls him back, his capture weapon curled around the boy’s torso. “Not so fast. You’re with me.”
“What for?” Hitoshi’s clearly pissed now, so Shouta makes sure to pull him along with the capture weapon instead of freeing him right away, keeping his mouth shut in case the boy goes rogue.
At least until they make it to the small backyard of the agency, mostly used by the few people smoking, though the little bench provides a nice place to sit.
“What was that for?” Hitoshi grunts once he’s released, his hair even more on edge.
“Sit,” Shouta points, letting himself fall onto the bench. “You’re pissed. I want to know why.”
“You tell me,” Hitoshi bites out.
“What do you mean?”
Hitoshi’s brows dance as he tries to make sense of it.
“My… When you came by… She talks differently about you now.”
Shouta immediately catches who he’s talking about.
“Is she?” His heart tugs painfully at that thought. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“She’s not telling me what happened.”
Shouta opens his mouth but closes it again, realizing with a start that he’s in over his head.
Is he supposed to tell Hitoshi? And what would he tell him? The boy’s seventeen, has yet to figure out what romantic feelings are, exactly.
“You’re not telling me either?” Hitoshi’s voice is breaking, though it’s disbelief that Shouta hears above all else.
“Sit,” Shouta repeats once more. This time, Hitoshi follows his lead.
“You’ve been trying to set us up,” Shouta points out the obvious.
Hitoshi’s quiet for a second before he nods. “Yeah.”
“Why?”
Hitoshi starts, sending him a bewildered look. “What why?”
“Why did you do that? Try that?”
“I-” Hitoshi sucks in a breath, his hands shaking in his lap. Shouta reaches out and takes one, unsurprised when the other follows, a bundle of hands, of cool skin trying to get warm.
“I don’t want to lose you,” Hitoshi admits, his purple eyes staring at the ground. “And I thought-”
“You’ll never lose me,” Shouta promises, his voice low. He can feel his own words hammering against his ribcage, though they’re not trying to get out. Not this time. They just want to be heard.
“But-”
“Listen to me,” Shouta’s hold on his hand thightens. “I care about you. My hand will always stay like this, reaching out.”
“But what if I let go?” Hitoshi’s voice sounds small now.
“You can always come back,” Shouta reminds him. “I promise.”
Hitoshi’s quiet for a while. Shouta watches him, taking in the lines and ridges he’s yet to notice.
He’s put on a little bit of weight in the last weeks, his cheeks a little rounder now, his skin less sickly in color. He’s healthy, growing, sleeping a little better.
Shouta pulls his hand free and turns on the bench, pulling Hitoshi in by the shoulder, cupping the back of his head against his shoulder.
“I am very proud of you,” he mutters into the vividly purple hair. “But there are some things you need to let go. They are not yours to control.”
“But don’t you like her?” Hitoshi asks, his voice muffled by Shouta’s jacket. “At least a little bit?”
Too much, Shouta wants to say, but he’s got too much self control for that.
“I’d never date my students parents,” he reminds Hitoshi with a wry smile. “Don’t want anyone to accuse me of having favorites.”
“Please,” Hitoshi pulls back, wiping his nose. “You? Never.”
-
They drop Neito off first, which doesn’t make sense at all, but neither of the boys mentions it.
The lights are on still as he pulls up, getting out of the car despite the fact that he still needs to pick up Eri.
“I’m home,” Hitoshi calls out as he steps through the door, laughing when the ginger cat immediately attacks his shoes.
“Welcome home,” you call out somewhere from the side, your voice warm.
You haven’t seen him yet, though Shouta thinks you must have felt him, his own insecurities, his longing, his affection for everyone living here.
He can see himself coming home to you, calling out your name as he steps through the door.
“Hi,” you greet him too now, Tenko heavy on your arm as you step closer. “How’s Eri?”
“Good,” he says, swallowing. Tenko’s waking as he’s looking for something to say, blinking up at him with bleary eyes.
“Hi,” Shouta repeats, feeling a little out of the loop, surprised when Tenko wordlessly reaches out, slipping into his hold like he’s never done anything else.
The boy is heavy and warm, smells like freshly washed linen and that citrusy perfume you’re using. His curls, though ink black, remind him of Oboro in a way that settles bittersweet in his gut, though Tenko doesn’t notice, just sinks heavily into him with a sigh.
You laugh somewhere to his left. “He’s met All Might today,” you explain, fussing over Hitoshi and the bruise on his cheek that hadn’t been there in the morning. “He’s all tuckered out. We started Quirk training too, and he’s gotten a hang of it real quick.”
“Already?” Hitoshi asks. “He’s not gotten it yet, has he?”
“No, no, don’t worry.” You steer them into the kitchen despite Hitoshi’s claims of not being hungry. “Just something to work on his emotional control.”
“Bed,” Tenko mutters, his nose mushed against Shouta’s neck.
“You want to go to bed?”
“Mhm.”
“I’ll take him,” you offer, stepping closer. Your face seems open, but there’s a guardedness to it that pains him, despite being the cause for it.
“I got it,” he promises. “I’ll take him upstairs. It will only take a second.”
“I don’t know if he’ll settle without me-” you start, but you let him move past you and up the stairs, the pitter patter of tiny feet coming after him as Mud follows quick on his feet.
Tenko’s quiet as Shouta tucks him in, already half asleep.
The rash on his cheek has gotten much better, he finds, brushing his thumb over it.
An All Might action figure sits on his night stand next to a picture of you, Tenko and Hitoshi. Shouta recognizes it. You’ve set it as your profile picture just last week. He still wonders who took it, who captured the candid softness on all your faces.
“He’s asleep,” you point out, surprising him. He hadn’t heard you come up.
“Ah, yes,” Shouta steps back, watches as you tuck Tenko in once more, brush a hand through his hair and kiss on his forehead.
“Hitoshi?”
You look up. “He’s downstairs, finishing his english homework.”
“Good. I had a talk with him.”
“About that-” You lead him from the room, down the hallway. Shouta’s breath hitches when you step into your own bedroom, beckoning him to follow.
It’s too private, too intimate, and he can see the furrow of your brows, knows that you can feel his hesitation.
“It’s alright,” he pushes out despite himself. “It’s the only privacy you get, right?”
“There’s the bathroom-”
“It’s fine,” he leans against the closed door and keeps his eye on your face, careful not to look at anything else. Still, he spots your sleepwear folded up next to your pillow, has to fight his amusement when he finds out you sleep in flannel too.
You watch him silently for a beat before speaking up.
“What did you tell Hitoshi?”
Shouta licks his lips before summarizing, knows it’s the least he can do.
“I’m sorry that I made you feel uncomfortable,” you tell him once he finishes, your voice sincere, your arms folded in front. He knows a shield when he sees one though he wishes you didn’t need it around him.
“Thank you,” he pushes his hands into the pockets of his trousers just to keep them occupied. “I’m sorry I’m attracted to you.”
You laugh, the sound hollow and foreign.
“I’m sure it will pass,” you say, and Shouta stares at the ground and wriggles his toes, hoping to get rid of that feeling building up inside his chest, yet knowing it won’t leave him.
“If it doesn’t,” he presses out, wishing he could take back the words as he says it and wishing he could get them out a little faster just to get it over it. “If it doesn’t fade until… Hitoshi graduates-”
You suck in a breath. When he tries to catch your eye you look away.
“We’ll talk about it when it happens,” you tell him softly, stepping closer.
It takes him a moment to realize you’re ushering him out of the room again, but when he does he can’t stop the pang of disappointment.
“You need to pick up Eri,” you remind him. “I should be done with most of my projects at the end of the week. We can figure something out then.”
“Text me,” he says, the words heavy with meaning. You nod, brushing past him on the way down the stairs.
His heartbeat only slows when you do, hours later.
You: That stew you made last time we came over, do you have a recipe for that?
His thumb hovers over your profile picture for far too long as he cherishes the simplicity of your text. You’ve opened the door again, let him step in or keep the distance.
It might be a tricky sea to navigate, but if you’d let him be your friend, he’d take it.
Shouta: Only if I get the recipe for your breakfast muffins.

Chapter 20 Notes:

Vacation is over and I hope to be back to regular updates after this.
Though I hope this chapter will make up for the wait.

Chapter Text

-x- Hitoshi -x-

Months have passed.

Hitoshi finishes his internship with flying colors, more bruises than he can count and something like a crush - though he won’t tell anyone about that yet. It’s bad enough that Neito has figured it out, teasing him about it when they’re on Patrol.

He can see his future growing brighter, clearer, shaping into something he can almost grasp.

His second year ends brighter than it has begun, brighter than he ever thought possible.

He’s got a home now, one he likes to return to. He has more friends than he can count, his phone buzzing with messages, his storage filled with candid pictures.

Ochaco promises to bring him treats when she returns for their third year. Shouto has managed to bring both Midoriya and his mother onto the Todoroki Family Vacation and Denki has gotten lost twice in the span of twenty-four hours with only the Class Group Chat to lead him back to safety.

It’s only one week before school starts up again, but Hitoshi is determined to make the most of it.

Monday

“That’s an Octopus,” Hitoshi explains, Tenko sitting on his shoulders as they peer into the giant aquarium. “See? It has many arms, like Shoji.”

“Shark!” Tenko points out instead. “Oooh, he’s got big teeth, like Shima!”

Hitoshi laughs. “That’s right. Kirishima’s got shark teeth. Now, let’s go see if we can find a frog to take a picture of. Do you know who looks like a frog?”

“Tsuyu!” Tenko cries out happily and Hitoshi laughs, catching up with you and Eri at the turtle petting station.

The Aquarium is pretty packed today. You’re not the only family who’s taking advantage of the Monday Discount.

Hitoshi can barely remember the last time he’s been here. Had it been with his mother, as a school trip or with you and Yokoyama-san?

Tenko doesn’t get tired of watching the Sharks, shrieking with joy everytime one of them gets close, while Eri observes more quietly, her hand in his.

When he turns, Hitoshi can see you sitting by the little coffee shop, laughing about something Shouta’s saying or waving back when you notice him looking.

Tuesday

“Don’t forget the Sunscreen,” you remind them at the Beach, rubbing it gently into Eri’s pale skin. Shouta’s supposed to accompany them today, though he’s yet to show up.

Hitoshi’s not too bothered by his absence. Eri’s going to sleep over for the rest of the week anyway. Shouta will come when he can make the time.

Hitoshi knows at least three of his friends are going to show up later, the group chat overflowing with ideas and invitations, but he’s determined to spend some time with Tenko now, without all the distractions..

“Sticky,” Tenko complains loudly in front of him, wiping the sunscreen onto Hitoshi’s leg.

“I know,” he sighs. “But you still need it. Or do you want to sit in the shadow all day?”

Tenko pouts but lets him rub it in, comforted by little Mud who’s the only pet to join them on this day trip to the beach.

“Now that that’s settled,” Hitoshi leans back a little, “Do you wanna go into the water or build a sand castle? Eri? What do you think?”

“I wanna build a castle!” She crows, reaching for her bucket and shovel. “The biggest on the beach.”

They make good work on that, stopping occasionally to take a dip in the water.

You’re never far off, pulling Tenko through the shallow water on an inflatable unicorn or just sitting in the surf with Eri, letting the water splash your legs as she tells you a story.

Shouta arrives around noon, taking two bites of the watermelon you’ve brought before he falls asleep, not even rousing when Tenko climbs onto his chest to have a nap as well.

“Can you teach me how to swim?” Eri asks, pulling gently on the hem of his swim shorts to get his attention. “Daddy’s asleep.”

“I’ll do my best,” Hitoshi promises, glad when Tsuyu and the others arrive and he can ask a professional for help.

They return home late, tired and sunburnt, and Hitoshi finds sand between his bedsheets even weeks later.

Wednesday

“Toshi!” Tenko complains, standing on the foot of the stairs in his All Might pajamas. “Why are you leaving?”

“Oh, I’m just going out with Denki and Neito,” he brushes Tenko’s hair out of his eyes. “There’s a new movie Denki wants to see and then we’ll hang out in the park or something like that.”

“Can I come?” Tenko asks, reaching out his arms, asking to be picked up without words.

“Well,” Hitoshi hoists him up, pretending to consider it. “I would take you with, but that movie is going to be really boring.”

“Boring?” Tenko blinks. “But why do you watch it then?”

“Because Denki wants to and you know him, he always gets what he wants. But we can watch a movie together later this week, if you want.”

“With Neito and Denki?”

“I’ll ask if they have the time,” Hitoshi promises. “Now, do you wanna go back to bed or sit with Mom for a while?

“Mom,” Tenko decides. “Can you bring back some sweets?”

“I’ll try,” Hitoshi promises, handing him off.

You brush a hand through his hair with a smile, pinching his cheek and Hitoshi pretends to be cross about it even as he leans in for a hug goodbye.

He wakes up late on Thursday, finding Tenko curled up next to him.

“Mom says we’re going to the park,” Tenko tells him, a brightly yellow cube in his left hand.

“Anyone else coming?” Hitoshi asks, yawning.

“Mirio,” Tenko counts. “And All Might. A-And Uncle Keigo!”

“Ah,” Hitoshi nods and stumbles out of bed, looking for something clean to wear. “So the whole family.”

Tenko smiles up at him, bright eyed and happy. It’s too cute for words.

“Do you wanna fly some kites?” Hitoshi asks on the way down the stairs, finding Eri at the kitchen table with you. “Or Frisbee?”

“Frisbee!” Eri calls out. “It’s so fun to play with Mirio, the Frisbee goes right through him!”

Together, they manage to rope even Hizashi into the fun, though he’s quick to return to the safety of their picnic blanket at any sight of a bug.

Even Hawks, or Uncle Keigo, as Tenko calls him, has got a place in their circle now, Hitoshi finds, surprised at how many loud blondes his world can fit.

Friday Night he spends at Shouta’s place, just the two of them.

It feels a little awkward at first, with no Eri, or Tenko, or you to distract them from the silence, but they find their pace quickly.

It reminds him of past times. Reading books with you, as a child. Or staying over at a friends place. Introvert recognizes introvert.

Though there’s something special in falling asleep on the pull out Couch to the quiet breathing of Shouta next to him, his stomach full with food they cooked together hours ago.

Hitoshi can’t help but think that having a father must feel like this.

He’s no longer envious of people who have one.

Saturday

Your smile grows with every student that stumbles through the door.

Eri recognizes them all, even when Tenko needs a moment to figure out the name to the face.

“Shima!” Kirishima lifts both of them up at once, grinning like a shark.

“Tenya!” Two pats on the head for each of the kids.

There’s Momo-chan who sneaks them sweets, Toru who loves to play hide and seek and Yama, who teaches Tenko one french word at a time.

Tetsutetsu and Kirishima compare their strength in a Tenko holding contest - the boy does not complain, giggling when they start doing bicep curls with him - and Neito is bestowed the honor of having Tenko in his lap as the movie starts.

Bakugo picked it, though you vetted it first.

“Oh, that’s my favorite movie,” Izuku calls out from where he’s sitting, smushed between Ochaco and Tenya. “All Might Number 1.”

“Of course it’s your favorite movie,” Bakugo barks out. “It’s the best movie ever!”

“I know All Might,” Tenko tells them proudly, sinking back into Neito before he realizes something’s missing. “Toshi?”

“I’m here!” Hitoshi stretches out his hand and drags it through messy black hair. “Mom’s right over there, sitting with Eri.”

“And Mud?” Tenko whispers over the opening sequences.

Koda answers, his soft voice barely audible. “He’s sleeping on my lap. Do you want him close?”

“No, it’s fine,” Tenko decides. “He must like you. He’s very shy.”

Hitoshi can’t help but think that they’re very much alike. But his friends have a habit of softening even the hardest of shells, welcoming even those who do not want to be welcomed.

Sunday night you slip into his room with a smile on your face.

“What?” He asks, sitting up.

“I got you something,” you say, pressing it into his hands. It’s cold against his touch and he pulls back to look at it.

“Keys?”

“A car,” you correct him, reaching out to brush his hair out of his eyes.

“I can’t drive,” he reminds you, though his stomach is already in uproar at the gesture.

“I know, silly,” your smile brightens. “You’ve got a bit of free time until your next internship starts. We go for lessons every Tuesday.”

“We?” He asks, his mouth dry.

“We,” you wait for him to process. “You and me. Shouta’s up to help if you feel I’m not the best teacher for you. Wouldn’t be mad if you did, though I promise I have taught others before you.”

Hitoshi swallows thickly. You pull him in just in time, your shirt soaking up his tears.

He’s growing up, he realizes. He’s growing up with you, your hand gentle as it leads him.

-x- You -x-

Three days after the new school year starts you finally get the necessary approval to visit Shigaraki’s old friends in prison. It’s been a long time coming and you don’t doubt that all those visits from Hagiwara-san played a role in your evaluation.

Tenko’s doing good so far and you’ve managed to put him into a nearby childcare one morning a week, just so he can get used to kids his age. Of course, that will surely change once his Quirk comes in, but you don’t want to think about that before it’s necessary.

“You’ll start with Spinner,” Keigo explains on the way there.

You’re not allowed to drive yourself and you’re pretty sure no Uber would take you, though you’d feel better with someone less threatening behind the wheel.

Keigo’s presence is soothing, despite him being nervous himself.

“Everything you say will be recorded. Your Quirk is a risk but I vouched for you. Use it only when absolutely necessary.”

You nod, the rest of the drive passing in silence.

The walls are closing in on you.

You stop halfway down yet another hallway, your hands shaking.

For the first time in your life you wish back those dreaded Quirk-canceling bracelets.

“You okay?” Keigo’s worry adds to the weight on you and you suck in a breath to steady yourself.

“Give me a second,” you press out, let the emotions roll through you and into the ground.

You think of Tenko, how he climbed into your bed this morning to wake you up, how soft he is when he’s not yet fully awake, clinging sleepily onto you.

You think of Hitoshi and the kids at the beach, their skin caked with sweat, saltwater and sand, their laughter drenching the air.

You think of Shouta’s hand on your back that day, his hands cool as they rubbed sunscreen into your sunwarmed skin. How he fell asleep right away and how close he held Tenko, even in his sleep.

Warmth spreads through your body as you focus all your happiness around you, an invisible shield.

Only that it’s not invisible to you, the soft purple glow the softest reminder.

“What’s she doing?” One of the guards asks. Keigo’s voice is soft when he calls your name.

“I’ve never seen you use your Quirk like that,” he comments when you look up and catch his eye. “I could see it… something purple…”

“It’s a barrier,” you explain quietly. “There are many emotions running amok in this building. Someone-” You hesitate, let it wash over you, the barrier holding up. “Someone in here has a Quirk similar to mine, I can feel it. I-” You break off, take another breath. “My Father is here.”

You say it calmly, let the thoughts pass through you. You’ll think about it later. Not now.

Keigo says something to the guards and one of them leaves. You have no mind to look after them, focus on your breathing instead. It will get easier soon.

“Come,” Keigo brushes his hand against your elbow. “We can do this another time.”

“I’m fine,” you insist. “I just needed a minute. Too many people in the same place, that’s all. And, well, too many negative emotions.”

You don’t remember where you saw it first or last, but Spinner is not an unfamiliar face.

Still, it’s haunting to see him again, grief and apathy weighing him down.

“How old are you?” You ask, before he can get a word in, before you can even tell him your own name.

“Why do you wanna know?” He snarls, his eyes flickering from you to Keigo sitting by the door. “What’s he doing here? Who are you, anyway?”

“I-” You hesitate. Tell him your name, lick your lips, take a breathe. “I am here to talk about Shigaraki Tomura.”

Spinner scoffs. “Are you some damned journalist or what?”

“No,” you shake your head. “It’s hard to explain. I guess… You’ve been questioned about him before, have you?”

“Sure.”

“Did they mention Okabe Yusu?”

His eyes darken. “Don’t tell me you’re here to talk about this again. Shigaraki never had a child! He’d never! He didn’t have time for that and he’d never want it!”

“Here,” you pull out the bundle of pictures you brought, no longer tucked away primly. You’d been searched thoroughly at the gates, but they let you keep them. “This is Tenko.”

You hold the picture against the glass wall separating you, watch his eyes go wide as he takes it in.

“It’s fake,” he insists after a second, though his hand still reaches for it.

“Can I give it to him?” You turn to Keigo. His face is a grimace but he nods after a moment.

“These are for you,” you point out before you hand them over to yet another guard, wait patiently until someone else hands it to Spinner on the other side. “I thought you might want them.”
“What for?” Spinner scoffs, though he’s gentle as he goes through them.

“He’s got his eyes,” he points out thoughtfully. “Though Shigaraki’s were red, not grey. And the hair-”

“We’ve got Okabe’s confession,” Keigo points out behind you and Spinner’s eyes flicker back up again. “Though I suppose you don’t give much on her word.”

“You’d be right with that,” Spinner scoffs. “She was always obsessed with him, would have told you anything just to get some attention.” He grimaces. “But the kid looks like him, I got to give you that.”

“Say,” you clear your throat. “Say he is Shigaraki’s son. Would you tell me about him? It doesn’t need much, but-”

“What for?” Spinner leans forward. “Why do you even have these pictures? Are you some kind of pedophile, or-”

“I’m raising him,” you interrupt him calmly. “Legally and in every other sense but biologically, I am his mother.”

Spinner puts the pictures down slowly, eyeing you without saying a word.

“Tell me about him first,” he demands finally.

So you do.

How he never stays in bed for long, always slipping out of it after a few hours to find you and cuddle some more. The lengths he goes to to avoid eating even the tiniest piece of tomato and his ever growing love for Pizza. That Unicorns are his favorite animal and Dogs a close second. And, realizing how fitting it now is, that his favorite book is about a lizard.

“A lizard?” Spinner asks, his voice rough though you can feel how much he enjoys that thought.

“Well,” he clears his throat pointedly. “That was nice to hear. I guess I can tell you a few things after all.” He shuffles around the pictures. “What do you want to know?”

You send him a smile, feel the way it undoes him, despite his hardened front.

He’s not used to Gentleness and you have much to give.

Grief recognizes grief after all.

“Did he like tomatoes?” You ask and watch as some of the weight he carries slides off his shoulders.

“Thank you,” you press your hand against the glass, let it sit there until Spinner raises his own to mirror your gesture.

“I’ll come back, if possible.”

“You don’t have to,” he shakes his head. “You’ve got a kid to raise.”

“That’s true. But I’ll try to make time. Bug this guy to let me come,” you nod in Keigo’s direction. “So you know what’s going on with Tenko, okay?”

“Why would you do that?” Spinner furrows his forehead. “You’ve got better things to do than come to a prison and talk with some inmate you have no ties to. Does it make you feel better when you play the saint or what?”

You let his anger wash over you, wait until he’s finished.

“I do believe that compassion goes a long way,” you tell him calmly. “My Father is in here too,” you swallow thickly. “Maybe I’m just trying to receive absolution myself? Because I cannot bring myself to meet him, but I can meet you just fine?”

Spinner considers that for a second.

“Fine,” he huffs, getting up. “But if you mess up that kid, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

You smile. “I’ll take your word for it.”

He looks back only once, nodding his goodbyes.

You wonder if he feels different to when he came in. If he can feel what you’ve seen.

Change is inevitable.

It’s unusual for Eri to sleep over in the middle of the week, but you let her.

You know it’s nothing but a ruse anyway.

Even Hitoshi can tell, making up some story about how he still has to work on something, leaving the living room to the grown ups.

“You could have just said it outright,” you point out when Shouta pours you a glass of wine. “‘I want to come over and have a talk.’ See? It’s not that hard. I said it and I’m still alive.”

He pushes his hand in your face in retaliation, sitting back on the Couch, his prosthetic leg propped up on the coffee table. “You get sassy when you’re in a bad mood,” he comments. “Every day I learn something new.”

“I’m not in a bad mood,” you huff, taking a generous sip of wine. “I’m just-”

“Yes?” Shouta’s voice is light, teasing, contradicting the richness of the wine.

“Fine,” you take another sip to stall. “Maybe I am in a bad mood.”

“You said it and you’re still alive,” he repeats your earlier joke, grinning. “Now, tell me about it?”

You let your head fall back against the backrest of the Couch. It’s not that hard to summarize what happened. You went in there, you had trouble controlling your own emotions amidst the mass of people you could feel. You talked to Spinner and you left.

But you know that’s not what Shouta’s after.

“I feel sorry for him,” you admit finally, your fingers clenching around the stem of your wine glass. “He lost a dear friend.”

“After he killed-”

“He’s still human,” you interrupt him gently. “He still suffers. It doesn’t take away the bad he’s done, but I cannot close my eyes to the pain. I’ve never been able to.”

Shouta’s quiet after that, watching you.

“I felt my father today,” you admit after a while, when the silence has become too much of a burden. “His Quirk is similar to mine, I’d know him anywhere.”

“When’s the last time you saw him?”

“I met him once at a Club at eighteen,” you admit quietly. “He didn’t recognize me and flirted with me. It was awful. But the last time he met me for me, I was…” You calculate in your head. “Nine, I think, or ten.” You breathe out slowly. “It was a disappointment to both of us.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks,” you force your lips into a smile. “At some point you learn to grief the living.”

Shouta leans in, his hand on your shoulder. You’re not sure where he’s going with it, though the touch is nice, the warmth and weight of it reassuring. His thumb draws a slow circle and his breath washes over your face as he watches you.

If you’d lean in just a little bit, you could kiss him.

His chin lifts just the faintest bit and your nose nudges his, the gentlest touch.

Your breath mingles and you close your eyes, anticipating something you hadn’t thought possible.

“Mom?”

You both pull back at the same time, disappointment pulling thin between you like chewing gum.

Tenko’s standing on the foot of the stairs, rubbing his eye.

“Hey, Baby,” you call out to him, stopping short when you notice something. “Lift your hand for me, Tenko.”

He does and you slide of the Couch in a heartbeat, rush over as fast as you can to grab him by the wrist.

“Now,” you chide him softly. “Glove stays on, you know that.”

“It itches,” he whines. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” You lift him into your arms. “We’ll put some balm on right away, kay?”

“Kay,” he leans into your touch, heavy with sleep as you carry him over to the Couch.

“You wanna sit with me?” Shouta asks, patting his thigh.

Tenko shakes his head. “Mom,” he says quietly, his eyes slipping shut before you’ve even managed to open the tub of balm you’ve started to keep ready in every room.

“Let me do it,” Shouta asks, gently taking the balm out of your hands. “His allergies are getting worse, aren’t they?”

“Yeah,” you pull off the glove on Tenko’s left hand and spread his fingers out so he doesn’t accidentally touch something with all five fingers at once. “The Doctor thinks it might be his Quirk coming in. We’ve talked about starting cortisone therapy.”

“Are you ready for it?” Shouta asks as he gently rubs the balm into the red, raised skin on Tenko’s hands. His eye is on you though, dark and questioning. “It could kill you in a heartbeat.”

“I’m careful,” you point out. “And if we’re being technical, I think Hitosi could kill me just as easily with his current driving skills.”

“True,” Shouta smiles ruefully. “I told you I could take over if you needed me.”

“You’re already doing too much,” you insist. Shouta’s close again, and when he lifts his head you lean in to press a kiss to his cheek, just the faintest of touches.

His breath washes over you as you pull back and you immediately feel his hesitation grow.

“I’ll call you an Uber if you want,” you tell him softly. “Or you can sleep in Hitoshi’s room if you don’t want to drive this late.”

“It’s eight p.m,” he reminds you softly and you can see his adam’s apple move as he swallows. “But I’ll annoy Hitoshi tonight. He deserves it for kicking me in the shin during training.”

Chapter 21 Chapter Text

Meeting Mr. Compress, as he used to be called, goes by much smoother. You can tell that he’d been less close with Shigaraki, though he’s also less adverse to the idea of his old colleague leaving behind a kid.

“It would fit All For One,” he admits quietly. “To always keep one door open. You should keep an eye on the kid, just for your own sake.”

You let that threat slide.

“And you caught Okabe?” He asks next, directing his question to Keigo. “Or did she give the kid up just like that?”

“She gave it up,” he explains calmly. “It’s way harder to flee the country with a toddler.”

“But you caught her,” Mr. Compress summarises. “Right?” His smile is dangerous. You can tell he’s looking for something to satisfy his feelings. “She can’t be the only one to get away.”

“She’s dead,” Keigo cuts him off. “And I won’t be giving you any details.”

“What a shame.”

“You took that one better,” Keigo points out when you leave. “Do you wanna go for coffee before you return?”

“Sure,” you rub a hand over your temple where a headache is starting to spread. “Tell me about your girlfriend. Distract me.”

“Not my girlfriend.” He sends you a smile. “Yet. But I’m flirting heavily, so she should have gotten the idea.”

“Or you scared her off,” you tease him, leaning back into your seat, closing your eyes as you drive off. “Tell me about her.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to think about the fact that both of Tenko’s parents are dead and that his father most likely didn’t even knew he existed.”

Keigo’s quiet for a moment.

“He’s got you though, doesn’t he?”

“Yes,” your throat is hoarse and you try to clear it. “And he’s going to have to go through life with a Quirk his body wasn’t made to have and there’s hardly anything I can do about it.” You take a deep breath. “I’ll be okay and I’ll deal with it and it will be fine, but right now I am not in the mood nor the mindspace to think it through, so please, Keigo, distract me.”

It’s quiet for a second or two before he speaks up.

“She’s shorter than me.” You turn to look at him, but he’s staring out the window, although they’re covered in a black film to confuse your orientation. Just in case you’d want to come back here on your own. “Her first name means star and I think it’s pretty fitting because she’s got a little twinkle in her eyes when she smiles.”

“That sounds nice.”

“She calls herself a little chubby,” he continues, his voice soft and a little breathy. “She mentioned it once to a co-worker and I overheard it. I’d describe her as ridiculously soft instead. Her hair is this really pretty shade of brown and her eyes-” He breaks off and grins, his cheeks dusted pink. “I sound like a fool.”

“It’s sweet,” you brush a strand of his hair behind his ear. “You sound like Hitoshi when he tells me about this one coworker from his internship.”

“Or you when you talk about Aizawa,” Keigo grins, ducking away when you try to slap his shoulder. “You do,” he insists. “Don’t deny it.”

“I’m not denying it,” you scoff. “It’s just not going to happen until Hitoshi graduates and your meddling isn’t helping my patience.”

“Damn,” Keigo laughs. “I didn’t know it was this serious. I’m going to stop, I promise.”

“Good,” you laugh, leaning back. “Otherwise I’ll find this mysterious girl and invite her to our next family get-together.”

“Not the worst idea,” Keigo humms thoughtfully. “I could get serious brownie points for being a great uncle.”

“Not if he manages to knock you out with the Frisbee again.”

“Please, I was barely unconscious.”

Hitoshi’s gone for the week, sleeping at the school for a special course about late night Patrols. The House is quiet without him around, since Tenko goes to bed at 7 pm and the pets usually follow suit.

Your earlier restlessness doesn’t translate well to focusing on the project you’re currently working on and you log out of the software, deciding to take a break for tonight when you hear Tenko.

It’s not unusual for him to talk in his sleep, sometimes loudly, though the emotions you’re picking up aren’t positive.

He’s probably having a nightmare and you leap up the stairs to get to him, rushing more the closer you get, his voice agitated and his emotions flickering, Mud whimpering in tune.

Pain and Fear coat the hallway like tar and you push open the door to find him crying out loudly, his hands outstretched, reaching for something you cannot see. His nightlight sheds just enough light to see that his right glove is missing and you send out a wave of love and calmness, hoping it will soothe his pain.

Tenko wakes, startled, blinking around. “Mom?” He asks, his voice raspy.

He pats around the bed, finding his doggie plush as you reach him, grasping it with both hands. It starts to disintegrate right in front of you.

You’re careful not to let the panic bubble up inside you as you gently take his wrists and force him to drop it. His fingers are red and blotchy, his pinky fingers worst of all.

“Easy there, Baby,” you lift his hands and snatch a fresh glove from his nightstand, hoping to get it on before he realizes what’s happened. “No touching things without a glove.”

“It h-hurts,” he sniffles, leaning into you. “M-Mom.”

“I know, Baby.” You make sure the glove is on before you grab his plush from the bed. “One second, okay.”

There’s scissors in the bathroom, you know, and you rush over there, make it just in time to save doggies left side. The stuffing is falling out of the huge hole you’ve created and you dread the next morning, when Tenko will see it.

“Mom?” He calls out from his room and you deposit the doggie on a higher shelf for later handling.

“I’m here, Baby.” You pull him into your arms, careful not to disturb the gloves. “I’m here.”

He’s quiet as he cries. Tomorrow, you know, will be worse.

-x- Shinsou Hitoshi -x-

He knows, even before Shouta pulls him aside on the way to training.

Hitoshi hadn’t been able to explain it, that knot of anxiety that wouldn’t leave him even in the dead of night. Like something was going to happen.

“How bad is it?” He asks, as soon as they step to the side. “Who did he get?”

Shouta’s face twitches, an emotion flickers over his features, to fast to catch.

“Doggie, the plush,” he explains calmly. “He lost his better half.”

“No one else?”

“No one else,” Shouta promises. “You thought-?”

“Well, there’s always a possibility, right?” Hitoshi cuts him off, his voice rough in his throat. “It can still happen.”

“No one’s going to let it happen.”

Hitoshi turns away with a humourless laugh. “I bet Shigaraki’s parents thought the same thing.”

He doesn’t get far. Shouta pulls him back by the neck, drags him further down the hallway where they are entirely alone.

“You’re not the only one who is worried,” Shouta insists once they’re firmly out of sight and earshot of anyone else. “You’re not the only one who’s working on a solution.”

Hitoshi sobers. “Right. Sorry.”

“No need to be. I get it.” Shouta pulls him into something that could be considered half a hug. It’s tense, but comforting in it’s own right.

“Can I go home today?”

Shouta sighs. “I can get you in touch with Nezu and I’m sure he’ll let you leave, but-”

“There’s nothing I can do, I’d just be in the way and I’d shoot myself in the foot if I left this training exercise early,” Hitoshi counts down what he already knows.

“Exactly,” Shouta’s hand is back on his shoulder. “If you want to go home, I’ll make it happen. We can figure out the rest.”

“It’s fine,” Hitoshi decides with a heavy heart. “I’ll call.”

-x- You -x-

Tenko’s running a fever in the morning.

You’d wrapped his hands in bandages and let him sleep in your bed, all the risks be damned. He wouldn’t have gone to sleep any other way, you tell yourself, knowing that you wouldn’t have been able to sleep with him in the other room either.

Tenko whimpers as you unwrap his left hand. You’re not sure if there is much change or if you’re imagining things. You apply another layer of ointment and wrap his hands up again before you try to leave for a much needed toilet break.

You’re gone for less than five minutes before he wakes. He cries desperately for you, loud enough that even Mildew mewls in sympathy.

“I’m here,” you call out as soon as you’re out of the bathroom. “I was just on the toilet.”

Tenko only calms when you wrap him in your arms again, though you’re pretty sure he’s not falling asleep any time soon..

You’ve got practice caring for sick children.

You’d made congee for your mother every time she had a hangover, learned how to make chicken noodle soup under Yokoyama’s warm gaze. It’s never any easier, even with all the practice.

Hitoshi had been a quiet sufferer.

You’d learned to check his temperature with the back of your hand before letting him leave for school, pulling him out for a sick day even when he swore up and down that he was completely healthy.

He’s not lost that trait yet.

Tenko, however, is the opposite.

There’s no step you can make without him tied to your side. You’re running way too hot with him pressed against you at all times, but you can’t very well open up the windows.

And while he might not be in the mood to talk right now, he’s not quiet either, whimpering low under his breath every time you think he’s finally fallen asleep again.

You’ve made it through the third run of Paw Patrol’s biggest adventure when you catch sight of the wooden cubes in the corner of the living room.

An idea pops into your head, too loud too dismiss, and you pull away from a dozing Tenko to get the toys.

He starts whimpering the second you leave him, but calms down again when you slide close once more.

“Hey, love,” you take one of his hands in yours. “Do you wanna try something?”

Tenko’s quiet, but he nods.

“You know how Eri has a horn, right? Did you know that she stores her Quirk in there?”

“She does?”

“Yeah,” you rub softly over his back. “I thought, maybe you do the same thing with your hands?”

You can feel his curiosity even when he doesn’t voice it.

“Maybe you get all tingly and itchy because you need to let your Quirk out. Do you want to try it out?”

“My Quirk? Do I have it already?”

Oh , you realize, you haven’t told him yet.

“Why don’t we check?” You try, lifting the box for him to see. “Pick a cube for what you feeling. Or just any color you want.”

Tenko considers that for a while, eyeing the different cubes. He finally picks a dirty green color, though he seems afraid to take it.

“Nothing’s going to happen while your hands are bandaged,” you promise. “I did your fingers separately.”

You go through the motions of your practice. Put your emotion into the cube.

Eventually, you let him choose one hand and slowly take off the bandages until only his pinky finger is covered.

He tries again. Nothing happens.

“Now we have to be careful,” you tell him quietly, slipping off the last of his bandages. His skin has barely recovered.

Tenko’s eyes are on you, watching, waiting, until you tell him to put all five fingers around the cube. That it’s okay. That you’ll take care.

This time, both of you are watching. There’s no trick of the light. The cube disappears withing seconds.

You let your calm wash over him, slip the bandage back over his pinky and press a kiss to the crown of his head.

“You’re alright, Tenko,” you tell him with your throat raw. “You’re safe. Everything’s going to be okay.”

You’re not sure what is harder to take. His silence or the depth of his emotions.

Tenko’s fever goes down quietly. Around Dinner time he’s disintegrated about half of the contents of your trash bag and the rash on his hands has calmed down significantly. Your theory has been proven right, though you haven’t been able to tell him about Doggie’s fate yet.

You’d bandaged his hands back up nonetheless, neither of you trusting a simple glove to hold through the night. Not yet, at least.

“I’m going to make us some soup,” you tell him, brush his hair out of his eyes and tuck him a little further in. “Why don’t you try to nap a little? Nothing’s going to happen to you, I promise. I’ll be back here the second you mutter something.”

He’s unsure, you can tell, but using his Quirk has made him sleepy and he lets you walk away. When you turn back to check five minutes later, he’s fast asleep.

And it’s your luck that you left the living room, because you catch movement outside just in time to stop your visitors from ringing the doorbell.

“Eri?” You blink in surprise at her sight. “Hizashi?”

“Hi,” Eri blinks up at you. “Dad said Tenko got his Quirk.”

“He did. I’m not sure… I’m not sure it’s the best idea to visit today. He’s had a fever for half the day and he’s just fallen asleep.”

She’s unsure of something, you can tell, her emotions all over the place as she looks at her Uncle for help.

“Listen,” Hizashi tells you, sliding in. His arm is around your shoulders as he pulls you in, his tone conspirational. “The young lady has an idea. We heard a dog suffered a terrible fate.”

“Oh,” you blink in understanding. “Yeah, his Doggie plush. I’ve got half of it. I,” you turn to check if Tenko’s still asleep before you speak on. “I haven’t told him about that yet. I’m pretty sure I could get him the same plush easily, but he’d know. His Doggie has been through some wear and tear.”

“With my Quirk,” Eri points at her horn. “I can make it whole again.”

“Oh, I know,” you tell her. “But I can’t make you use your Quirk for this.”

“Please,” Eri looks up at you, her emotions heavy and sincere. “Please, I want to. I like using my Quirk for something good.”

It takes her less than five minutes. Tenko’s still asleep when they leave again, his Doggie plush sitting next to his head as if last night never happened.

And it’s a silly little thing, just a plush getting back to life, but you can’t help but think of a different dog. Of a different boy.

You cry thinking of Shimura Tenko, the first.

-x- Hitoshi -x-

You sound the same as always, just a little tired.

“What’s that noise?” Hitoshi asks, his phone digging into his cheek, his back pressed against the concrete wall. On the other side of this wall, his classmates are getting ready for bed.

“Tenko,” he can hear rustling. “He’s been whimpering in his sleep. But I think the itching has gone down. How are you, love?”

His throat is clogged. He breathes in and out, in and out, trying to get rid of it.

“Hey,” your voice is quiet and soft as it washes over him. “Where’s the feeling?”

“Throat.”

“Yeah? What color?”

“Snot-green.” Hitoshi chokes on the laughter that’s trying to spill out through the edges. It’s not funny, but he wants it to be. “It’s disgusting.”

“Mhm. You wanna name it?”

“No.”

“You don’t have to. Think you can sit with it for a moment? Just… feel it, acknowledge it, let it be?”

“I-” He breaks off.

You’re quick to soothe him. “It’s okay, I’m not leaving. We can do it together.”

Hitoshi breathes, in and out, in and out. The snot-green feeling doesn’t waver at first, but he doesn’t have to talk, so it’s less bothersome.

He can hear your breathing, in tune with him, and that little whimper he now knows is Tenko.

“Can you-” He clears his throat, surprised how easy it suddenly is. “Can you give him a kiss from me?”

He can hear the sound of it, muffled, far away. “A kiss from Hitoshi.” And then, faintly, Tenko’s voice.

“Hi, Toshi,” he calls out, his voice high pitched and innocent.

“Hi, Tenko,” he calls back, unsure if the boy can hear him.

“When are you coming home?” Tenko asks, now closer.

“Soon,” Hitoshi promises, his chest lighter, his back straighter. “You only need to go to bed three more times.”

“That’s a lot,” Tenko complains, yawning. “Did you know? I got my Quirk.”

“I heard. Is it cool?”

“It’s okay,” Tenko admits before adding a quiet. “I can still hug Mom.”

“You can still hug me too,” Hitoshi promises, the last of his anxiety sliding off.

“Alright now,” you interrupt when their conversation fades into a content silence. “Tenko needs to get ready for bed. Hitoshi-”

“I need to go too,” he realizes, getting up. “I’ll talk to you soon. Stay safe.”

“You too.”

Chapter 22 Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The doorbell wakes you.

Tenko’s curled up on your chest, sleeping so soundly he doesn’t even wake when you get up with him in your arms. He’s gotten heavier, you can tell. Pretty soon you won’t be able to log him around the house all day.

You open the door and take a step back in surprise.

Shouta smiles, a wave of affection, his affection, rolling over you.

The emotion is so strong you have to turn away to gather yourself.

“Sorry,” he mutters, his own cheeks pink. “Your hair’s a mess.”

You reach up and turn to check yourself in the mirror by the door. He’s right. Mildew must have tried to clean your hair as well as her fur and the result will take ages to comb through.

“You’ve got weird taste,” you point out, nudging Shouta’s left ankle with your socked foot. “I’m never going to make myself look presentable around you again.”

He laughs, his feelings fluttering around openly. It’s rare to see him this relaxed and even rarer to see him this early on a weekday.

“Want me to take him for a second?” Shouta slips out of his shoes and offers up his arms.

“Tenko?” You press a kiss to his temple. “Shouta’s going to take you.”

Tenko sighs quietly and slips into Shouta’s hold. For a second you think he didn’t even notice, but then you see how his grip tightens and his nose digs into a much harder chest.

“Daddy,” Tenko mutters under his breath. “Sleep.”

You freeze, your emotions bubbling up in your throat, your eyes catching Shouta’s.

“Yeah,” he mutters quietly into Tenko’s dark locks. “Sleep. I’ve got you.”

His feelings, Shouta’s, are subtle and warm, like being tucked in at the end of a long day.

You’ve always been drawn to him, even in the not so perfect beginnings, but the way he cares has your heart squeeze with affection.

“Don’t,” Shouta whispers quietly. “We’ve still got more than a year. We can’t break down now.”

You shake your head to clear your thoughts, realizing belatedly that you’d leaned in further, just a breath away from kissing him.

“Sorry,” you clear your throat and look for a way out. “I’ll… I’ll use the bathroom.”

“I’ll make coffee,” he adds, nodding toward the kitchen.

When you separate, you can feel his longing hanging off him like a cloak. You let your own feelings slide out of your bare feet and sink into the wooden floor beneath them.

“Yagi stepped in for me today,” Shouta explains once you’ve returned to the kitchen, Tenko still curled up against his chest. “I wanted to come and check in on you. And Tenko.”

“Sure, but we’re doing just fine.”

“I know, but we’re still worried. It’s always a huge transition, a Quirk coming in. But with this Quirk-”

“I know,” you cut him off quietly. “Thanks for sending Eri by. She was a huge help.”

“It was her idea.”

You drink coffee on the living room floor, Shouta’s metal leg digging into your hip. Tenko’s sitting in the middle, one bare foot pressed against your knee, the other curled around Shouta’s.

“Can you do it again?” Shouta asks and Tenko considers the question for a moment before he picks up the wrapping paper of his breakfast cereal, lowering the pinky finger until he’s holding it with all five fingers. It disintegrates fully.

“You’re doing good.” Shouta’s voice comes slow, like always. You realize belatedly that you can’t remember the last time he didn’t sound perpetually exhausted. But amidst that exhaustion, you can hear his delight, his pride. And then he reaches out to drag his hand through ink-black curls.

Tenko grins up at him, proud and happy alike. “Thanks,” he lisps.

Yagi Toshinori comes by the next day.

He stays for hours, sitting cross-legged on the floor, listening to Tenko’s explanation with the rapt attention of a loving grandfather.

Yeah, you think. Grandfather. It fits.

You address it quietly while Tenko fetches something from his room and Toshinori blinks away a tear. “You think-?” He hesitates. “But-”

“He calls Shouta Dad. Hizashi and Keigo are his Uncles. I don’t think he cares whether you are blood related or not.”

“Right.” He rubs a hand over his face. “Right.”

He comes by the next day as well, holds Tenko’s hand on your short afternoon walk.

They talk about everything and nothing, the clouds in the sky, the raised scars on Toshinori’s arms or if Tenko’s hair will grow just as long.

“Oh, this is nice.” The elderly woman who always walks her fluffy little dog the same time you walk Mud coos at the sight. “Is Grandpa visiting?”

Tenko blinks and looks up at Toshinori. “Grampa?” He asks.

“Grandpa,” you repeat gently when Toshinori keeps quiet, obviously struggling with words. “Like Keigo is Uncle Keigo.”

“Oh,” Tenko nods and clutches Toshinori’s hand a little tighter. “Grampa. Grampa Toshi is my favorite Grampa.”

“You’re such a sweet kid,” The woman reaches out to pat his curls and pulls candy from her pockets. “Here. For you.”

“Thanks!” He beams up at her. “Can I have two?”

She blinks.

“For my brother,” Tenko points out. “Toshi is coming home tonight. He said so, right Mom?”

“Oh, well then,” she pulls out another and hands it to him. “How nice of you to look out for him.”

-x- Shimura Tenko -x-

Grampa hugs him before he leaves.

Tenko can’t wait to tell the other kids at daycare that All Might is his Grampa.

He’s warm and funny and he always listens, and he claps his hands everytime Tenko uses his Quirk.

“Mom?” Tenko pulls at your pant leg to get your attention. You’re making Dinner and you asked if he wanted to help, but he’s not in the mood for cooking.

“Yes?”

“When can I go back to daycare?”

“Oh,” you hesitate. “Soon. When you get your Quirk under control.”

Tenko blinks. “Monday?”

“No, baby. It will take a little longer.”

“But I wanna go monday!”

“I know,” you lower yourself until you can look him in the eyes. “But we still need to get your Quirk under control first. A lot of kid have to stay home for a while.”

“That’s not fair!” Anger rises up in him, bubbly like soda pop. Mud barks when he stomps his feet in emphasis. “I wanna go monday!”

He storms off when you try to explain it, stomping up the stairs to his room.

Mud follows him, but Rust hisses down at him from the banister, not happy about the noise.

His skin itches from how angry he is, so he scratches it, the shoulders and the cheeks, the thighs and his tummy. He slips under the covers to hide away and stay there even when you come to look after him, explaining everything to him.

Tenko doesn’t want to hear it. He wants to go to daycare and see his friends and tell them about Grampa! Stupid Quirk!

Tenko only realizes he’s fallen asleep over it when he wakes up.

He checks his hands. The gloves are still on. Mud licks his face and he slips out of bed, not quite sure what time it is. Is it Saturday already? But it’s almost dark out.

Your room and Toshi’s room are empty. He sneaks down the hallway to the first step of the stairs and looks down, expecting to find breakfast ready at the table.

Instead, he finds Toshi hugging you, right at the door, and Tenko finally remembers.

“Toshi!” He races down the stairs. “You’re home!”

“Hey Bug,” Toshi pulls back from hugging you, wiping his eyes. “Missed me?”

Tenko runs right into his legs to hug him, because that always makes Toshi laugh. He laughs too, this time, grabbing him under the arms to lift him up. “I’m up here, Bug,” he says, “Show me your hands!”

Tenko lifts his hands, gloves on. “You’re not scared of my Quirk, are you?”

“Not more than I’m scared of my own Quirk,” Toshi promises. “That was awful in the beginning. I was too scared to talk.”

“Really?” Toshi lowers his hands in surprise. “But you’re never scared.”

“Just because I don’t show it, doesn’t mean I’m not scared,” Toshi says, pulling him close. “Have you been nice to Mom?”

Tenko swallows thickly. “No,” he admits, pressing his face against Toshi’s shoulder. “I got really mad today. I wanna go back to daycare.”

“But Mom says you’re not ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Mhm,” Toshi pats his back. “Did you tell Mom you’re sorry?”

“No.”

“Start with that, hm? We’ll figure out the rest later.”

Tenko has to go to bed fifteen more times before he can go back to daycare.

Sometimes he gets very mad about it, stomps up the stairs and hides in his bedroom until he’s calmed down again, but he makes sure to always say sorry after.

Mom says it’s okay to feel mad sometimes, that it’s a good idea to pull away from something making you mad to calm down. But he doesn’t want to get mad. It’s a bad feeling and it makes his skin itch a lot.

Grampa says he’s amazing with his Quirk.

He says he’s got an idea, that maybe, Tenko can try to reverse his Quirk. Some people can do that, Grampa says. It’s worth a try, even if it doesn’t work out in the end.

-x- Shinsou Hitoshi -x-

It’s one of those warm late-summer nights, the air alive with insects.

The weather report calls for rain next week but there’s no chill in the air yet and Hitoshi blows the air loudly throug his nose as he leans further back on the swing.

On his right, Denki is lying on his swing, head down, hair almost touching the ground.

Neito’s sitting on top of the slide and somewhere in the distance, probably by the entrance of the small playground, they can hear Shouto and Ochako arguing over the price of soda.

“It does matter,” she points out, clearly agitated. “Why would you pay double the price for a drink that tastes exactly the same?”

“I like the logo,” Shouto answers calmly. “Isn’t that important too?”

“Oh, you-!”

“Don’t!” Neito calls out. “It’s useless. Let him have his opinion and his money.”

The soda can Ochako throws hits him square in the chest, makes him tumble down the slide with all the dramatics only Neito can show off.

“I think I’m getting sick,” Denki points out, his voice whiny. “Can you help me up, Chako?”

“Do it yourself,” Ochako demands, pushing Hitoshi off his swing. “I’m not your maid.”

Hitoshi bites his tongue and pulls Denki up by the collar of his shirt, keeping him upright.

He likes nights like this, just hanging out, talking about everything and nothing. It’s usually a mixed crowd, though it’s rare not to find Denki or Neito amongst his friends.

The approach of Fall is going to put an end to it, or at least force them inside again.

“Neito,” Shouto cuts through the comfortable Silence. “Has your Class already decided?”

“On what?” Neito sits sprawled on the bottom of the slide, cracks open his soda so he can take a sip. “But the answer is probably no.”

“The theme of the School Festival.”

“Oh, that.” Neito chuckles. “No. Tetsutetsu and Kendo are trying to rope us into a Wrestling Contest.”

“Oh,” Ochako beams. “I like that.”

“Sure you do,” Hitoshi drawls, pushing Denki’s face away when the other guy tries to snuggle up to him. “I told you to bring a jacket.”

“But I’m cold,” Denki whines. “Shouto, can you warm me up?”

“Sure,” Shouto beckons him closer. “Wrong side.”

“Mina wants us to perform again,” Hitoshi points out their Classes dilemma. “Which I will not do.”

“You have to pick something,” Ochako points out. “You can’t be against both choices.”

“”What’s the other?” Neito lifts his head with interest. “It can’t be as bad as wrestling.”

“A maid café.”

“Oh,” Neito grins. “Who brought up that idea and how many bruises does he have now?”

“It’s not a maid café,” Ochako cuts in, shooting him a look. “It’s just a café. Katsuki is a good cook and Sato is an amazing baker, so we’d have both sweet and savory dishes down. Hitoshi just doesn’t want to smile and serve people.”

“Can you imagine?” Hitoshi makes a gagging noise. “I’d die.”

Neito lets his head fall back. “I don’t know,” he says with a solemn voice. “I have seen you smile at Tenko. Besides, do you know how proud he’d be to come in and have you serve him? Oh,” he coos. “I’ll convince Class B to join. I want to see his face when Reiko moves his plates with her mind.”

Hitoshi grimaces. “You’re not being fair.”

“I’m never fair,” Neito smirks. “But you can still perform for him. I’m sure he’d be amazed by your talent.”

“Fine,” Hitoshi huffs, dragging his feet. “We’ll do the café.”

- - -

He’d been able to keep it a secret but now that you’re about to set foot through the doors he wishes he hadn’t.

What if you think he looks silly? What if he messes up? What if Tenko gets scared with the masses of people around?

“You good?” Shoji stops to look at him. “You look a little pale.”

“Just peachy,” Hitoshi insists, wringing the towel in his hands. “Do you know when we start?”

“First people are already in,” Shoji points out softly, reaching out to pat his shoulder. “But it will take a while until they’re here.”

He’s right, of course. Not that that eases his nerves.

About fifteen agonizing minutes later an elderly couple is the first to enter their café. Neito snatches them before anyone else can, guiding them toward a table by the windows. His smile is bright as he talks to them, takes a little longer than necessary to get their order.

“My grandparents,” he explains when he passes Hitoshi on the way to the kitchen. “Say hi if you can. They heard a few things about you.”

“Only good things, I hope.”

Hitoshi serves Hizashi and Nezu, has to clean up at least three spilled cups of coffee until they get a hang of the machine and almost gets into a fight with Bakugo over the allergens in a dish until he spots your head in the crowd.

“A café?” He hears your voice, smiles when he hears the fondness and admiration. “This is so cool. What do you think, Tenko?”

“Where’s Toshi?” His little brother asks almost anxiously. “Hi Zuku, where’s Toshi?”

“I’m here,” he steps into view, chuckles when Tenko reaches out to hug his legs. “Hi Tenko. What do you think?”

“There are too many people,” Tenko tells him. “Why are there so many people?”

“Well some are family. If everyone has a mother and a father and maybe some siblings, that’s a lot of people. And the others want to see the school. Have you met Eri yet?”

“No,” Tenko shakes his head, waves shyly at a passing Shoji. “Hi Shoji.”

“Hi,” three hands wave back at him and another limb forms a mouth. “Pick the strawberry pie. It’s really good.”

Tenko looks up at you. “Can I?”

“Sure. What do you say, Hitoshi? Will you bring us some pie?”

-x- Shimura Tenko -x-

“Mom,” Tenko points out as soon he sits down at a table. “I need to pee.”

“Oh?” You look around. “The restrooms are over there.” You point at a door at the other side of the café. “Do you want me to come with you?”

Tenko hesitates. He doesn’t like going through crowded rooms alone. But he’s a big boy now. He can go on his own in daycare.

“I’m fine,” he insists, sliding off his chair. He looks back a few times on the way to the restrooms, checking if you’re still in sight. You wave every time and he feels almost safe. There are a few people inside the restrooms. An elderly man who nods at him, a few men who rush in and out, not even washing their hands and Shima, who stops to talk, grinning wide so that Tenko can admire his sharp teeth.

“Do they hurt?” He asks, pointing at his mouth. “Have you ever bitten your tongue?”

“Oh sure,” Shima scratches his head and Tenko is distracted by the bright red of his hair. It’s unfair that Tenko only got black hair. If he could, he’d get all the colors of the rainbow. Or purple. Purple is his favorite color in the world.

“Kirishima!” Someone yells from the other side of the door. “What are you doing in there?”

“Oh, sorry,” Shima pats his shoulder. “I need to get going. I’ll see you outside.”

Tenko nods and finds that the stalls are empty now.

He washes his hands and dries them properly before he walks back, half a mind focused on what color eyes he’d have if he could choose.

Would purple look good?

There’s a grey bunny right outside the door and he stops and stares at it. It blinks twice and hops away and Tenko follows it slowly, because if you walk too fast, animals get scared. Mom taught him that.

The bunny hops and hops until it slides under a cabinet, blinking back at him when Tenko lowers himself to peer under it.

“Hi,” he mumbles, reaching out his hand like a offering. “Can I pet you?”

The bunny blinks again, pushing himself further back.

Tenko blinks. Mom said if animals don’t want to be petted, you got to leave them alone.

But he really wants to pet the bunny.

He hesitates before he slides back a little, sitting down in front of the cabinet.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers to the bunny. “I’ll make sure no one’s going to try and pet you, okay?”

He looks at the cabinet for a while, wondering if the bunny feels safe. Maybe if he’d check, it would let him pet it now?

“Tenko?” He hears his name and turns, surprised to find Eri.

“Eri!” He beams up at her. “I found a bunny.”

“Where’s Mom?” Eri offers him her hand to pick him up.

“We were at the café,” Tenko explains. “We were getting some Pie.”

“Oh,” Eri nods. “We’re going there now. Where’s Dad?” She looks around and waves at Dad who’s a few steps behind her, limping along. “I told you not to run off,” he chides Eri softly, taking her free hand in his and offering his other hand to Tenko. “And you too. What are you doing out here alone?”

“There’s a bunny, Dad,” Tenko explains, pointing at the cabinet. “I made sure no one petted it because it doesn’t like to be petted.”

“It’s Koji’s,” Dad explains. “Let’s go tell him. And don’t walk too fast, remember that I’m an old man.”

-x- You -x-

Both Eri and Tenko haven fallen asleep in their respective car seats, their eyes falling closed just moments after you’ve pulled out of the schools parking lot.

“How brave of you,” you tease Shouta who’s curled up in the passenger seat. “Hitching a ride with me. What will the other parents say?”

He snorts. “It’s not that serious.”

“It isn’t? You wound me.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “I’m thinking about it.”

You hesitate, sensing the shift in his mood. “Yeah?”

“We’re already dating, aren’t we?”

You let your head move from side to side as you look for the proper words. “We haven’t been on a date, have we?”

“We’ve been to the Aquarium,” he reminds you. “To the Beach too. We drank wine on your Couch and watched movies together-”

“With the kids,” you interrupt him. “Well, except for the wine. What made you change your mind?” You park the car in front of your house but make no move to get out.

“I haven’t-” He hesitates. “If we aren’t dating, why do I feel I know you so well?”

“We’re friends, Shouta,” you tell him softly. “That’s what happens when you’re friends.”

“I’ve been friends with Hizashi for years.” He scoffs, letting his head fall back against the headrest. “I’ve been a bad friend, right?”

“Maybe,” you admit. “But we’re all learning.”

Shouta nods, takes your hand in his.

“I have a few questions. From a friend to another, if you will.”

You laugh. “Shoot.”

“Do you want kids of your own?”

You furrow your brows. “Shouta I have kids of my own.”

He groans, lets his head fall forward. “Not like that. I meant… biological children.”

“Oh,” you hesitate to think about it. “No, I don’t think so. As useful as I’ve made my Quirk, I don’t want to subject anyone to it. Besides, there are so many children that already exist that need love, why make more?”

Shouta snorts. “Good to know.”

“Do you want kids of your own, Shouta?”

He tenses, feelings of doubt and insecurity settling below his ribs again. You tap against his side to remind him to breathe and he lets them go, one breath after the other.

“I-” He clears his throat. “I don’t want children of my own.”

“Mhm,” you nod. “But?”

“No buts.” He closes his eyes for a moment, takes a deep breath. He looks pained and you can tell just how hard it is for him to admit to these feelings. Shouta leans in, close enough that his breath ghosts over your mouth. Any closer and you’d kiss him.

“I want to get married,” he admits quietly, like a secret. “Adopt… Eri and Tenko and Hitoshi. If they all let me.”

Your hand squeezes his. “I’d be down for that.”

“Yeah?” His lips quirk into that weird smile you find so endearing. “You’d be down for that? Isn’t that a weird way to answer a proposal?”

“Not if the proposal itself was weird.”

He laughs, lifts your joined hands to press the ghost of a kiss to your knuckles. “I’ll do it properly once this is over.”

“Ah,” you nod with a knowing smile. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Notes:

I wanted to take a second to thank everyone who has left Kudos, bookmarks or comments so far. I hope you're all excited for the last stretch coming up. All the love

Chapter 23 Chapter Text

-x- Shinsou Hitoshi -x-

In three short month he’ll graduate and start working as a Pro Hero.

It’s still hard to believe. It wakes him up sometimes too, in the middle of the night, the thought of being on his own.

He’s not yet sure if he’ll move out right away. He should talk to you about it, but he doesn’t quite dare yet.

He’ll miss his friends. Seeing them in Class daily, having Lunch together. Ochako will move back home, he knows, and he’ll miss her more than he wants to admit. She’s crazy in her own way, too fired up sometimes, but always there to set him straight when needed. He’ll even miss Mina, who’s tried to set him up on a blind date three times this semester alone.

Hitoshi turns in bed, too wired to fall asleep.

Footsteps pass his door and he’s up before he knows it, pulling it open to squint at you in the unexpected brightness.

“You’re still awake?” You ask, reaching out to tuck some hair behind his ear. “It’s late.”

“You’re awake too,” he points out. “What’s your excuse?”

You stutter. He can guess the rest.

“Can’t Shouta call during the day?” Hitoshi asks. “You need your sleep.”

“Wow,” you laugh. “Who’s the Mom now? What’s keeping you up?”

“Nothing,” he lies. You curl your hand around the back of his neck, the touch soft and reassuring.

“Wanna slip into my bed?” You ask. “We can talk.”

“I’m fine,” he insists, but moves to grab his pillow and blanket. “But I might as well before you get a boyfriend.”

You snort. “Don’t worry. I’ll kick him out of my bed if you ever need to snuggle.”

“Don’t,” Hitoshi pulls a face, “that makes it sound weird.”

Hitoshi sleeps face down more often than not. Surely there’s a reason to it, one he doesn’t care exploring. But it comes in handy now, when he does not want to face you.

Though he has to live with the drawbacks of it too, as Mildew chooses his back to sleep on, pressing him into the mattress.

“Are you getting enough air?” You ask, tucking him in. “I don’t want you to suffocate at night.”

“I haven’t suffocated yet,” Hitoshi answers, his voice muffled by the pillow. “I don’t think it will happen tonight.”

“Good, good,” you nudge his leg with yours. “So? What’s got your mind all twisted?”

“Nothing, like I said.”

“Mhm, your feelings are all over the place. Even a non-empath can see. Tenko asked three times today if you’re okay.”

“He didn’t.”

“He did.”

Hitoshi snorts and falls quiet again, lets himself enjoy the warmth that bubbles up his throat as you drag your hands through his hair and pet him like one would a cat.

“I was thinking…” The words slip out of his mouth and he bites his tongue, trying to pull them back.

“Mhm?” You settle next to him, though you’re sitting up, back pressed against your headrest, your hand in his hair.

“Do you think things are going to change much?” It comes out as a whisper, and he’s somewhat glad you’re able to catch it. Hitoshi knows he wouldn’t be able to repeat the question.

“Some of it will, for sure,” your hand is still there, the touch light and reassuring, just enough to keep him grounded. “Going to work is different than going to school. Less holidays, for example.”

He snorts. “It’s not like we had much of them.”

“It sucks, though, when you get a week off and your friends have to work and vice versa,” you sigh and lean in to press a kiss against the crown of his head. “But the important things aren’t going to chance, Hitoshi.”

He swallows against the lump in his throat. “Like what?”

And Hitoshi knows you know he knows. But you still count them down for him.

“There’s always going to be room for you here,” you promise softly. “Whether you decide to move in with one of your classmates and try to stand on your own two feet or stay here and save up some money. Sure, you might have to share your room with Tenko once Eri and Shouta move in here, but-”

“So it’s settled?” Hitoshi coughs awkwardly. “They’re going to move in after graduation?”

“Nothing is ever settled,” you admit. “But Eri sleeps over so often, it might as well happen sooner than later.”

“Will you take in more kids?”

“Maybe. But never more than we have room for.”

He sighs. But you’re not done yet.

“And I will always love you,” you promise, “the way you need me to. As a mother, a sister or a stubborn, older friend. With purple hair or any other color. You know that, right?”

Hitoshi nods. He knows, like one knows that the sun will come up again tomorrow. But there’s still a stubborn part of him, one that keeps him up at night, restless and in pain, that whispers: “ But my mother left me too. ”

It’s quieter now, though, this stubborn voice inside of him, silenced by your presence.

It might be your Quirk or something entirely else just you possess, but he can feel his eyelids growing heavier and his breathe evening out until he finally, finally succumbs to the exhaustion that has been plaguing him.

He sleeps without once waking up.

“Mom, can I sleep over at Neito’s this weekend?” Hitoshi asks in the morning, trying to fix his hair. There’s a stubborn patch on the right side of his face that keeps sticking out straight and he doesn’t want to run around looking like he’s been shocked by Denki.

“Sure,” you answer absentmindedly. “There’s Gel in the bathroom if you need any. Tenko, what do you think you’re doing?”

Hitoshi turns to look, surprised by your stern voice. Tenko blinks up at the two of them, one hand elbow-deep in the cookie jar.

“I was hungry?” The boy admits sheepishly. “I wanted a cookie.”

“Not for breakfast baby, you know that.”

Tenko pouts.

“I can pack you one for snack break?” You offer and Hitoshi turns back to the bathroom before Tenko can put his puppy-dog-eyes to good use. It works too well on him, he’s figured out.

“Did you meet with Denki already?” Neito asks at the train station, touching the crisp edges of Hitoshi’s hair that are still defying gravity.

“Very funny,” Hitoshi snorts. “Never heard of a bedhead?”

“Never,” Neito drags both hands through his hair with what he surely thinks is a flirtatious smile. “I guess I was just born this way.”

“I feel sorry for you then,” Tokoyami comments on his right and Hitoshi can barely keep himself from laughing out loud at the face Neito makes.

They chat on the ride to school, fueled by the fact that it’s friday and the weekend is in sight, two days of no responsibilities. Well, barely any.

“I have to walk our dogs three times a day,” Neito reminds him. “But you can come over right after school if you want.”

“Agh,” Hitoshi pulls a face. “I promised Tenko to do Quirktraining with him after school. But I can come by after that.”

“How is he progressing?” Tokoyami asks, leaning in. “I heard All Might started training him?”

“He has,” Hitoshi nods. “I wasn’t sure at first if he’d be much help, since, you know, he’s got a whole different Quirk, but they work well together. All Might even figured out that Tenko’s Quirk can be reversed.”

“Reversed?” Both boys look as impressed as Hitoshi secretly feels and he allows himself a smug little smile.

“Yes,” he nods. “Tenko’s just that good. Comes with the family, I suppose.”

He arrives later than anticipated at Neito’s house. His Dad insists on making them Dinner despite the late hour, overdoing it a little as usual.

“Try these, Toshi!” Monoma-san insists, putting out tiny little dishes filled with various foods. “My new creations. They’re a variety of Tapas, little snacks you eat with a drink. Give me your honest opinion, I can deal with it.”

Hitoshi has learned from the past that he cannot deal with it, so he keeps his opinions mostly to himself. It works much better to praise the food that’s actually outstanding. Monoma-san’s low self-esteem will do the rest.

“I knew it, I knew it,” he mutters to himself currently. “The world isn’t ready yet for a tomato-strawberry-ice-cream. Neito, what did you think of the potato-olive-bonbon?”

“It was good,” Neito claims, his fingers crossed behind his back. “But I think the grapefruit-tarte is where it’s at.”

“I think so too,” Hitoshi adds. “I really like the twist with the blackberry jam on top.”

Monoma-san falls silent, eyeing them for a minute before he nods. “You are so right boys. I knew I could trust you. I hope you’re still hungry, I just made a batch of tiny pizzas, I really need your vote on the different flavors!”

“I’m so full,” Hitoshi groans hours later when he’s finally able to get ready for bed.

“You tell me,” Neito mutters through a mouth full of toothpastefoam. “He only does that when you come over.”

“Why, though? I have no taste to claim.”

Neito blushes. Takes his time rinsing out his mouth.

“I don’t have that many friends coming over, is all,” he admits finally as he slips into bed and turns off the light. “And my Dad doesn’t have that many friends to ask either.”

“You should let him meet Present Mic,” Hitoshi slurs. “They’d get along like a house on fire.”

He doesn’t hear Neito’s answer, sleep already pulling him under.

Hitoshi wakes with a start, unsure where he is at first, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth.

Neito’s room has awful orange curtains. He recognizes them first, pulls himself up to check the time.

It’s just short of midnight and he’s got a bad case of heartburn, sneaking downstairs for a glass of water, hoping it will soothe the pain.

Sleep won’t come, now that he’s awake, and Hitoshi passes the time by looking out the window, the street outside fairly busy for the late hour.

He almost misses her, exhaustion pulling his attention everywhere and all at once, but the dim light of a nearby streetlamp catches in the well-known purple of her hair.

Hitoshi thinks it’s you at first, but he knows. Oh, he always knows.

The window opens without a sound. He’s outside before he’s fully thought it through, the cold air a welcome wake-up call.

But she’s there, he can see it, pausing at the corner like she’s waiting for him.

It’s harder to climb out of a window without his capture weapon, but he manages, hisses when his naked feet hit the cold asphalt.

How wrong is it, to run around at midnight in wrinkled sleepwear? Hitoshi’s not sure, doesn’t try to think about the way it feels. Like he’s five again, looking for his mother in the only place he knows - out on the streets.

He doesn’t have to search for long.

She’s still at the corner, back pressed against the street lamp, arms awkwardly stuffed into the pockets of her too large jacket.

His mother looks like he remembers her. Pale as ever, her skin red where she scratched it off in a fit of anxiety. She’s lost weight again, he notices even from this distance, her cheeks no longer full. Her face reminds him of a skeleton in this light, all bones, no flesh.

Hitoshi’s not sure what he’s supposed to be doing, not sure what he should say.

His breath comes out in a thin white cloud and he curls his arms around himself to ward of the cold, debating if he should leave now or risk getting noticed.

Does he want her to notice him?

It’s stupid, isn’t it? Wishing for it to happen and dreading it at the same time.

She’s giggling. It sounds wrong. Like someone took sandpaper to her voice and scratched off everything that made her a person. It no longer sounds like the woman who sang for him. A rare occurrence, but one he cannot seem to forget.

Hitoshi turns, heart bleeding. He cannot confront her now. He just-

Someone screams. It’s not that loud, but it’s enough to have him twirl back around.

His mother has got her hands in the air, gesticulating wildly as she takes back a step and then another. She’s cursing, the words slurring together into a mess he can’t fully understand. Then, she turns in his direction and starts moving, too fast for him to get out of the way.

Which is a lie. He could, if he wanted to. But his feet are stuck, frozen to the ground like he’s fighting Shouto.

Hitoshi watches her come closer, step after hurried step, turning back to watch the people she’d been talking to only to knock her shoulder right into his.

“Watch where you’re going!” She hisses and his mouth opens before he can help himself, his voice no longer that of eighteen-year old Hitoshi, but much younger. “Mom?”

And then his mind turns blank.

-x- Aizawa Shouta -x-

“I’ll hang up now,” Shouta promises, phone pressed against his ear. His wrist has started to hurt from the angle, but his other hand is stuck under Banana’s belly and everyone knows not to wake a sleeping cat.

“You said that twenty minutes ago,” you respond, yawning. “But I really think we should call it a night. We’re not getting any younger.”

“Speak for yourself,” Shouta grumbles, cautiously pulling on the hand his cat is sleeping on. Banana doesn’t move and he lets out a sigh of relief. “By the way, did I mention that I snore?”

“No?” You laugh. “Are you trying to scare me off?”

“Is it working?”

“Not really. Did I tell you that I kick in my sleep?”

“No, but Hitoshi mentioned it once or twice.”

“He didn’t.

“He didn’t,” Shouta smiles to himself. “But you believed it for a second.”

Twenty minutes later they’re still talking, though the words come slower now and Shouta can feel himself slipping into sleep even as he’s speaking.

“Oh,” you yawn again. “Tenko woke up.”

“Give him a kiss from me,” Shouta insists, the worlds like marbles in his mouth, trying to get away from him. He tries to get up and almost lands on his face. “Gonna check on Eri too.”

“Did you just fall from the Couch?”

“No,” he lies. “That was Banana.”

He listens to your voice on the other end, the way it melts when you speak to a sleepy Tenko and his equally soft reply.

“Tell Dad to go to bed,” you whisper.

“Dad,” Tenko complies. “Daddy? Dad?”

“Yes?” Shouta fights a yawn.

“Mom says you need to go to bed.”

“I will, Bugger,” Shouta promises. “Just checking on Eri.”

“Okay. Night.” There’s a click and then silence and Shouta realizes with surprise that Tenko just hung up on him.

That Bugger.

Eri sleeps soundlessly, a stuffed toy pressed to her face, Marshmallow curled against her back, purring when Shouta leans in to give both of them a good night kiss.

He thinks about brushing his teeth and almost makes it to his bed before his phone rings again.

Shouta doesn’t check the caller as he picks up, a joke already on the tip of his tongue. It gets cut off in the worst way.

“Aizawa-san? I’m sorry to wake you, but we’ve found Hitoshi wandering the streets.”

Adrenaline shoots through him, has him awake in less than a second.

“Where?” He turns back toward the hallway, locates his keys by the door and his capture scarf on the shelf. “Is he hurt?”

“Nothing major, but he’s not talking to us. I wasn’t sure who to call first, but-”

“Thanks, Tsukauchi,” he takes a deep, grounding breath. “I’ll make a few calls and come get the boy. Where are you right now?”

You park fifteen minutes later and pull Tenko out of his seat, the boy barely awake.

“What’s going on?” Tenko mumbles. “Where are we going?”

“Mom and Dad are going to check on Toshi,” you explain, your voice carefully soft. “Grampa is going to stay with you and Eri, okay?”

“Okay,” Tenko slips into Toshinori’s hold without much hesitance, his arms curled around the stuffed animals he never goes without. He’s asleep before he’s made it through the front door.

Shouta hesitates for a second before he follows you down to the parking lot.

You slide into the drivers seat and push open the passenger door.

“I should drive,” he insists.

“It’s my truck,” you point out, turning the key in the ignition. “Besides, driving keeps me grounded.”

Shouta hesitates but buckles his seatbelt.

“I don’t know much yet,” he admits as you pull out onto the street. “Just what I told you.”

“I couldn’t reach Neito,” you add, your voice level. “He’s either asleep or in danger.”

“He’s not in danger.” Shouta realizes it sounds more like a prayer than a fact and he falls silent for the rest of the drive, the only communication your hand on his thigh that taps out an anxious staccato.

-x- Shinsou Hitoshi -x-

There are downsides to growing older, Hitoshi thinks, arms curled around his knees as he stares at the blank wall

When you’re four, or nine, or eleven years old, grown-up keeps you company. They explain things patiently, or at least try to. They treat you with caution, because you’re just a child.

Or at least that’s what’s supposed to happen.

But if you’re him, or someone equally unlucky, you learn the truth much too soon.

That most grown-ups aren’t patient. That they don’t like keeping you company or caring for you. That drugs are more fun to be around than your own son.

And at eighteen, when you’re suddenly considered a grown-up yourself, they no longer treat you with caution..

A door swings open on the far end of the hallway. It’s not the first time that happened tonight and he doubts they’re coming for him. They gave up a while ago when he wouldn’t speak up. It’s late anyway. Night shift has better things to do than care about him.

“Hitoshi?”

His head snaps up, surprised but unsure what’s more surprising. The fact that you’re here or the fact that your voice is so warm and so soft, it sounds like straight out of a dream.

You’re not alone. You’re not dressed for the occasion either, your hair a ridiculous mess and the U.A. Alumni Shirt you’re wearing - a shirt he knows belongs to Shouta - stained with something that looks like mustard.

Shouta, too, looks like death warmed up, though that’s what he looks like everyday.

“Need a ride?” You ask and to his utter mortification, he just starts crying.

“Hey,” he can hear something like a smile in your voice as you cower next to his chair, looking up into his face. “You didn’t think we’d leave you here, did you?”

Hitoshi shakes his head and you open your arms, offering him a choice, as always.

He lets himself fall, remembering very well the last time you’ve held him like this

Chapter 24 Notes:

I hope you're as excited for this chapter as I am. It's my favorite in the whole story, and means a lot to me.
Next week we'll see the Epilogue, so don't worry about it being over already. And for those who want to stay in this Alternate Universe a little longer, I've got something of a companion piece coming, centering Ojiro as the Main Character.

Chapter Text

-x- Shinsou Hitoshi -x-

Tsukauchi meets them in the hallway, Hitoshi’s body heavy from exhaustion and emotions he doesn’t really want to think about.

You urged Shouta to take a seat, managed to wrangle Hitoshi into sitting in the middle.

Hitoshi’s tired. Tired of crying, of waiting, of worrying. His head rests heavy on someone’s shoulder and though he tries not to think, he’s pretty sure it’s Shouta’s.

“We found him walkin the roads dressed like that. An officer brought him in, thinking he might be sleepwalking. I recognized the look on his face.”

“How did you wake him out of it?” Shouta asks. “Last I knew the trigger was-”

“Oh, he woke himself up,” Tsukauchi chuckles awkwardly. “I think he tried to escape and ran straight into the glass door at the entrance.”

Hitoshi cringes. A hand is warm in his hair and he relaxes again, soothed with his unfortunate demise. At least no one important saw that.

“Do we know who did it?” You ask.

“My mother,” Hitoshi speaks at last, surprised by the sound of his own voice. He doesn’t sound five anymore. Not eighteen either. Something in between more likely.

Silence settles in the hallway.

Finally, you speak up. “Do we know where she is right now?”

There’s a hardness to your words that has Hitoshi pick his head up from Shouta’s shoulder, stare at you in surprise. You sound ready to kill.

Your mouth is a thin line, your eyes dark with anger. Hitoshi can feel it too, radiating off you.

“You should let the police settle that,” Shouta points out cautiously, though there’s a hint of nervousness in his voice. “As much as I share your anger, harming her will just get you into hot water with the police yourself.”

“I wouldn’t harm her,” you hiss, raising a hand to rub a thumb over Hitoshi’s cheek and the red bump on his forehead. “You know I wouldn’t. She’s your mother, after all. I’d just have a stern talk.”

“Somehow that seems worse,” Hitoshi tries to joke. It falls flat.

“We’ll see what we can do,” Tsukauchi promises. “But I think it’d be best for now if you all went home.”

“Right,” you get up and shake the Detectives hand. “Thanks for getting us. It’s much appreciated.”

“No worries. I… well, I heard from Toshinori how well Tenko is doing with you and…” He stutters a bit. “We’re all thankful for the work you do.”

“Work?” You blink at him. “It’s not work.”

Hitoshi doesn’t want to sit in the backseat alone. But saying it aloud would sound stupid so he keeps quiet, following you to the truck until Shouta stops him.

“You and me?” He asks. “Or do you want your Mom?”

Hitoshi breathes in, chokes on it. You turn to pull him into your embrace yet again, rub your hand over his back, up and down and up and down.

“I know,” you whisper into his hair. “I know it sucks. I know.”

“Why am I-”

“Because you’re human,” you tell him earnestly. “Because you are a child. You will always be a child, somewhere deep down inside of you. A child that didn’t feel save or loved or wanted. A child that deserved all those things and many more. It’s okay to want it, still. Even if you know it’s not possible.”

“Even if I have you?”

“Even then,” you promise. “Especially then.” You press a kiss to the crown of his head, sway him softly from side to side as if you’re back home in his bedroom and not in the police parking lot, the sun rising on the far horizon.

Something shifts in you, he can feel it, like night turning into day.

“I’m thirtythree-years old, Hitoshi. I still want my Mom to love me the way she should and I love Yokoyama for all she does for me. Those things are not mutually exclusive. They should not be.”

“What does that mean for me?” He asks, voice wet with unshed tears.

You take his face in your hands and gently guide him until he looks at you. There’s understanding in your eyes, warm and welcoming.

“Even if it never leaves you, this desire for her to make things right, doesn’t mean you won’t be loved.” You press your temple against his and it feels as if you’re trying to put your thoughts into him, give him as much of your feelings as you’re taking of his. “Both things can exist at the same time.”

“It sucks.”

“I know, Baby. I know.” Hitoshi closes his eyes, lets your voice wash over him.

“But what does that make you?” He asks, unable to keep the words inside. “Doesn’t that make you-”

“I can’t replace your mother,” you nod, your chin pressing against the top of his head. “And Shouta won’t replace your father. We’re not trying to take the place of someone already existing.”

Warm hands join hours and he knows it’s Shouta sliding into the room that’s still open, joining their hug until it comes full circle.

“We’re just here to be what you need us to be.”

“A teacher,” you say with a smile. “Or a friend.”

“A sister,” Shouta adds. “A weird uncle.”

“A Dad,” Hitoshi corrects him. “Or a Mom.”

“Whatever you need,” you add one last time. “Not because we have to. Just because we love you like that.”

-x- You -x-

Hitoshi falls asleep on the way back, his head buried in your lap, but not before making you promise to drop him off at Neito’s.

You hesitate, but Shouta makes the promise on your behalf.

Which is why you’re now seated in an unfamiliar kitchen, two identical faces eyeing you curiously.

“Isn’t that Aizawa-sensei’s shirt?” Neito asks when Shouta is momentarily distracted by the family dog.

“Is it?” You ask back. “I don’t know.”

Neito’s grin is smug and he leans into whisper something into his father’s ear.

“Oh,” Monoma-san nods. “I make an excellent wedding cake if you’re in need.”

You choke on your spit.

You’re not sure it’s a good idea to leave Hitoshi with the Monoma’s, even though he insists.

Shouta asks you to trust the boy, though neither of you is surprised when Hitoshi calls Saturday night, asking if it’s okay to move the sleepover to your place instead.

“Monoma-san needs to work anyway,” Hitoshi lies almost believingly. “But he asked if you’re free next weekend. He’s in need of some taste testers. I think we could rope Tenko into it. He likes trying new things.”

“That’s a lie and you know it.”

“Yeah,” Hitoshi’s voice drops a little in volume. “But Monoma-san needs friends and I can’t be the only one who suffers.”

You’re not sure if Hitoshi notices, but he’s drawn closer.

Yes, he spends his weekends with friends - and once on a date you’re not supposed to know about - but he returns each night, claiming that his own bed is still the most comfortable to sleep in.

You try to give him the space he needs, try not to be worried about this recent development. Shouta insists that he needs time and you believe him, though you’re not sure what will break this streak.

Shinsou-san has been arrested, the whole matter dealt with quietly. She’s in court-ordered rehab now, though she doesn’t want to be visited, not now nor in the distant future. You had to sit Hitoshi down to tell him, dry his tears even as he tried to hold them back.

In the end its Tenko who pulls Hitoshi out of his reverie.

“Toshi,” Tenko slides onto his big brothers lap like he belongs nowhere else. “Did you know?”

“What?” Hitoshi’s lips curl into a curious smile. “Do I know what?”

Tenko reaches up to whisper something into Hitoshi’s ear.

“Really? He did that?”

“Mhm,” Tenko nods, uncertain. “Do you think I can?”

“Sure,” Hitoshi squeezes Tenko’s shoulders like he’s measuring them. “You’re so big now. You can do everything.”

Tenko seems unure still. “But-” He hesitates. “I’m afraid. Can you come with?”

Hitoshi stills. His eyes fllicker to where you’re standing.

“What?” You ask. “What’s going on?”

Tenko pulls his head between his shoulders.

“Tenko?” You ask.

“Taro-kun asked me to sleep over,” Tenko admits shyly, playing with the hem of his pants. “Cause I’m his bestest friend at daycare.”

“Oh, that’s lovely,” you take a step closer. “You wanna go?”

Tenko nods. “But-?”

“But only if Hitoshi can come with,” he adds. “Cause what if I got scared?”

“Mom could come with,” Hitoshi offers, but Tenko looks up at him with wide eyes. “It’s not a sleepover when Mom comes with,” Tenko insists. “I’m not a Baby.”

“True,” you add, smiling to yourself, taking a seat at the table next to them. “You know, if Hitoshi’s up for it, you could go. Just for the evening at first, and when you feel it’s too much, you call me and I’ll pick you up. No questions asked.”

Tenko looks at you, then up at Hitoshi.

And Hitoshi, bless his sweet soul, levels his tense shoulders.

“Alright,” he nods. “I think I can manage a sleepover with two four-year olds.”

- - -

“Spinner,” you greet the man, sliding into your chair. “How have you been?”

“Same old, same old,” he adds, smiling. “How are the kids?”

You smile. “Tenko went on his first sleepover this weekend.”

“A sleepover?” Spinner sighs dreamily. “I always wanted to do that as a child. What’s the other kid like? Nice, I hope?”

“Taro’s a softie,” you recall. “His Quirk allows him to create soap bubbles, so they’re always having fun. By the way, I’m supposed to give you this.”

You pull a few papers out of your purse and slide them over. They’ve been vetted outside.

Spinner waits patiently until they’re on his side of the glass wall before he picks them up, flicking through them.

“Oh, he’s an artist,” he coos proudly, holding up the pictures Tenko drew for him. He chokes at the last one, his eyes fixed at the figure on the far right.

“Is that-”

“Yeah,” you admit. “Uncle Spinner,” you explain the green blob holding hands with a grey shape. “Tenko’s starting to grasp that you and his father were friends.”

Spinners eyes flicker to you and back to the picture.

“I’m sorry,” he admits, “if I was harsh to you in the beginning. You’re really… You’re raising the boy to be a hero, right? A real hero.”

“I am doing my best.”

Spinner nods. “That you are.”

He puts the pictures down and pretends not to care about them any longer, though you notice how his right hand rests gently above the picture of himself as if protecting it.

“I talked to your father.”

You flinch back, surprised by his words.

“What?”

Spinner nods. “Wasn’t easy. We’re not exactly encouraged to have friendly chit chat.”

“Why would you do-”

Spinner rolls his shoulders and you shut up.

“I wanted to make sure you were decent,” he admits. “And when I realized you were, I just… I think I wanted revenge? For you? Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “But hurting him won’t heal me.”

“Not even a little?” He asks, sounding a little hopeful. “Cause I could break his nose if you asked.”

You laugh. “No, Spinner. It’s not going to make me feel better. I think-” You swallow thickly. “I think my revenge is having a good life. One without him in it.”

Spinner blinks slow. “Then have the best life ever. Have it for me. For Tomura Shigaraki.”

You blink away a tear. “I will do my very best.”

-x- Tenko Shimura -x-

Toshi is nervous. He’s running up and down the stairs, looking for something.

You’re nervous too, your hands fluttering through the air like butterflies.

Tenko knows not to ask too much when you’re like that, so he makes himself breakfast and watches as you spill coffee all over your shirt.

“No bad words,” he reminds you softly and you stop and still and turn to him.

“Oh Tenko,” you sigh, “Thank you.” You walk over to pull him out of his seat and press kisses against his cheeks until he giggles. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“What for, Mom?”

“For being the bestest little boy,” you tell him sincerely. “Do you wanna pick a new shirt for me?”

“The purple one,” he pipes up immediately. Your face falls. “Oh, but that’s in the wash. Quick, race me up the stairs, I’m sure we’ll find something else!”

“Are you nervous?” Tenko asks Toshi in the car. “You can hold doggie if you want?”

“Thanks,” Toshi holds doggie in his lap. “I am a little nervous. It’s silly, but I can’t stop it.”

“It’s not silly,” you say. “Tenko, when’s the last time you were nervous?”

“Friday,” Tenko remembers. “Cause Sensei told us a surprise.”

“And what were you nervous about?”

“Well, Tora said maybe she’s leaving, you know?” Tenko puts the horn of his stuffed unicorn against his lips at the memory. “But then she just said she’s having a baby, so I was alright.”

“Oh, Tenko-” you start, but Toshi stops you.

“I’m nervous about everyone leaving too,” he admits and Tenko blinks up at him.

“You too?”

“Yeah,” Toshi nods. “Me too. I want to keep seeing them everyday.”

“Can’t you invite them over?” Tenko asks, fiddling with his Unicorn. “I like having them over.”

“I will try my best.”

“And we can’t ask for more,” you add, parking the car. “Now, let’s have fun today, okay? Today we’re celebrating Hitoshi.”

“Yes,” Tenko slips out of his car seat. “Go Toshi!”

“I have a very special job for you, Tenko,” you stop him before going through the gate. You hand him a heavy bag and slip the strap of it over his shoulder. “Remember the chocolates we made and the pictures you drew last week? I put them together. It’s your job now to give one each to Hitoshi’s friends and teachers. Think you can manage that?”

Tenko nods, looking down at it before grabbing a small purple package out of the bag and holding it up to Toshi. “This one’s for you.”

-x- Shinsou Hitoshi -x-

Tenko, and Eri, are everyone’s favorite. Even before the actual graduation ceremony starts, he spots his little brother on Tetsutetsu’s shoulders or cuddling up to Ojiro’s tail or floating high above their heads on behalf of Ochako.

Midoriya cries when Tenko hands him his package, which contains a piece of chocolate and a hand drawn gold star which you laminated.

Even Bakugo looks a little choked up at the sight of his present, though he puts his feelings into chasing one of Denki’s little cousins through the crowd.

There are so many people here to celebrate them.

Monoma’s Dad who’s very obviously trying to flirt with Kendou’s Mom. Asui’s little siblings and Tenya’s big brother who’s grinning so wide Hitoshi fears its contagious.

There’s Toshinori clinging onto a woman that can only be Midoriya’s mother - and who Tenko immediately starts calling Grammy, to everyone’s amusement - and Hawks patting Dark Shadow as he talks to Tokoyami’s parents.

Hitoshi’s happy, he really is, even though he can’t help but notice that his mother is missing this.

A part of him longs for her to be here. To be proud of him. To show the world that he has a mother who loves and cares for him.

But there’s also a part of him who looks at you and knows he has everything he needs by his side.

“Would you please take your seats?” Principal Nezu finally calls them all to order. “The graduation ceremony is about to begin.”

He waits until all of them are seated, the students up front and their families behind them. His speech is short but impactful, reminding them all of where they came from, what they’ve been through and what lies ahead of them.

“Now I’d like your teachers to have one last word. Aizawa-Sensei, please?”

Shouta steps forward and looks around, his face set into his usual passive stare. Someone behind them, the voice too young to be student, mutters about how scary he looks.

Hitoshi can’t blame him, though the respectful silence is suddenly shattered by a voice he knows too well.

“It’s Dad!” Tenko crows out from the back. “Hi Dad!”

And Shouta’s lips quirk into a rare smile, so fast you had to be watching to notice it.

-x- Aizawa Shouta -x-

Tenko reaches him first, which is a miracle given how crowded the area is.

“I saw you up there,” Tenko screeches, hugging both of his legs. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes,” Shouta picks him up and sets him on his hip. “I heard you and everybody else heard you too. I thought we said not to call me Dad in public?”

Tenko looks confused. “But I always call you Dad?”

Shouta sighs. “Right. How could I forget?” He shakes Tenko a little until he giggles. “Where’s the rest of the family?”

“Eri is with Mom, I think,” Tenko puts the collar of Shouta’s shirt into his mouth and nibbles on it. “And Toshi is with his friends.”

“Hey,” you come up from the side. “There you are. Tenko, you can’t just run off.”

“I wanted to go see Dad,” Tenko insists, pouting when Shouta puts him back down but only until Eri grabs his hand and whispers something into his ear.

“Mom, Eri said Mirio has candy!” Tenko immediately blows the secret. “Can we go and get some?”

You sigh. “Fine. But don’t run and stay where we can see you.”

The kids are gone in an instant, though Shouta can still spot Eri’s white head in the crowd, not to mention Mirio towering over most of the students.

“So…” You nudge his side, smiling a little. Shouta’s suddenly aware of all the people around him, the students and their parents, his coworkers and, not to mention, his boss.

“So…” He responds, nodding toward the trees. It had been Nezu’s idea to celebrate outside, given the weather, and Shouta regrets it now. There’s nowhere to hide. “Wanna get into the shade?”

You snort. “Sure.” You wave at Hitoshi who’s still surrounded by his peers and point toward the trees before following Shouta quietly.

“Tenko blew it, huh?” You ask somewhere along the way and he shrugs, unable to find the proper words.

“Are you growing shy on me now?” You look up at him when you reach the shade, a smirk dancing over your lips. “Really, Shouta?”

“I built this up in my head, okay,” he defends himself. “I’m sorry if the nerves are getting the best of me.”

You sober. “You know I don’t need anything special,” you point out quietly, reaching for his hand. “I love you the way you are.”

Shouta chokes. “Don’t say it first!”

You laugh. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, forget what I said!”

Silence settles. It’s comfortable this time, even though he still feels his nerves fluttering behind his ribs, right where he usually keeps his feelings.

Shouta looks up at the sky, unsure what he’s searching for until he finds it.

After days of blank skies, a fluffy white cloud sits right above him. If he squints it almost looks like Oboro is smiling down at him. Or maybe it’s Kayama threatening him with her whip.

Shouta faces you. You’re looking up as well and he wonders what you see. You have a way of turning the mundane into a miracle. Maybe you see Oboro, or a dinosaur shaped like a kitten or something else entirely. Maybe you’re not even seeing the cloud, but something way beyond it.

And he wants that, this brilliant brain and giant heart of yours, by his side, forever. He wants you and he wants the kids and he wants all of it. He even dares to hope.

“Will you marry me?”

Your lips pull into a smile. Your emotions settle around him like a blanket, thick and purple and so, so warm.

Your love, he finds, has the color of Hitoshi’s hair.

“Yes,” you say. “Always.”

Chapter 25 Notes:

Thank you for staying with me till the End.
Next week I'll post the first chapter of Language of Love, a fic about Ojiro Mashirao, taking place roughly six years after graduation. Hoping to see you around, guys.

Chapter Text

xxx Epilogue xxx

Hitoshi could have called ahead. He knows you would have picked him up from the airport.

But he enjoys it, coming home like this, catching the rising sun over Musutafu.

He flicks through the messages on the train ride home, like Neito worrying about him having a safe flight or Denki forgetting - again - that he’d been in America, not Australia. He texts Shouto a silly emoji, an insider joke they never grew out of, and watches Ochako’s story on repeat, her laughter in his ear a reminder of days past.

He misses his friends, most of all those who live further away. Last he heard she busted a drug cartell, though Mina thinks it’s more important to report that she’s still not dating.

On that topic - he swipes through his contacts until he finds Mina’s bright pink icon - only to send her the selfie he took back in the states.

“Lots of chicks want to date me,” he captions the picture he took on a Farm outside Kentucky. He’s looking forward to her rage.

Hitoshi has his own apartment now, one he shares with Neito - and sometimes Denki too.

But he’s not driving there right now.

He’s driving home.

The steps are a little worn out, scratched up from Shouta’s prosthetic leg. Pictures are glued to Yokoyama’s front door, so much so that he can’t even see through the glass to make out if she’s home.

Oh well, he’s going to swing by her place later.

Hitoshi slips quietly through the door, settles his bag below the coatrack only for it to get attacked by Rust.

He sighs.

“Who are you?” A voice asks and Hitoshi lifts his head only to come face to face with a boy he doesn’t know.

Hitoshi blinks. “I’m Hitoshi,” he starts. “And you are?”

“Koki,” the boy answers, eyeing him still. “Are you-” Koki hesitates, looking up the stairs. “Are you living here too?”

“Some of the time,” Hitoshi admits easily. “But I have my own place now.” He pretends to look around but takes stock of Koki from the corner of his eye. He’s got scars around his mouth and the eyes of someone who has learned to be scared. Hitoshi doesn’t want to spook the boy.

A door closes upstairs. Hitoshi looks up at the sound of footsteps and catches your eye just as you reach the stairs. You gasp and then you fly down the stairs to pull him into a hug.

“You sly fox,” you tell him as you sway him around. “Not telling me a thing.”

“Surprise,” he grins. “Are the kids up yet?”

“Not yet,” you admit. “Well, they have been up but Shouta has this new game where he won’t get up and they slip into bed with us trying to wake him up but it just ends up with them falling asleep again, so-” You turn to Koki.

“Koki, this is Hitoshi, has he introduced himself?”

“Kind off,” Koki mutters, stepping behind you as if trying to hide from Hitoshi. “Is he your son?”

“One of my sons, yes,” you say, pinching Hitoshi’s cheeks. “We met in Yokoyama’s foster family when he was four, can you believe it?”

Koki eyes him curiously. “What do you do for work?” He hesitates. “You work, right?”

“Pro Hero,” Hitoshi says proudly. “U.A. Alumni. Proved everyone wrong that said I had a villain Quirk.”

Kokis eyes widen. He says nothing but steps a little closer until you curl your arm around him, waiting until he slides into your hold.

“Koki’s staying with us a few days each week,” you explain. Hitoshi remembers that you wrote him the news, but work in the states had been all-consuming. “To help his grandma.”

“She’s not really my grandma,” Koki admits, resting his head on your shoulder. “And soon she won’t be able to keep me around.”

Hitoshi nods. “I know how it is. Glad to have you here.”

Koki looks up at him, eyes wide, before he turns away, suddenly shy again.

You lean into him, whisper something Hitoshi can’t hear. Koki nods.

“If you want,” Koki whispers, “you can stay in my room with me?”

Hitoshi’s pretty sure that Koki’s sleeping in his old room. But he doesn’t say that.

He nods and gestures at the stairs. “Lead the way.”

-x- You -x-

You walk down the hallway one last time, open the door right next to the bathroom.

“Lights out,” you remind Eri gently before you tuck her in once more. “Dad said goodnight half an hour ago.”

She pouts. “But the book is so good!”

“I know, honeybee, but you need your sleep.” You press a kiss to her temple. “You’re okay with sharing the room with Tenko?”

“Yeah,” she yawns. “It’s fine.”

“You’ll tell me if that changes, right?”

“Mhm,” she blinks. “Will Koki stay with us forever, like Hitoshi?”

“Maybe,” you rub your thumb over her cheek. “We’ll see. You like him, right?”

“He’s nice,” she admits. “And it’s cool having a brother my age.”

You smile. “That it is. Sleep well, Eri. We’ll have fun tomorrow, okay?”

“Kay Mom. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You wait a little longer, watch as her eyes slip closed before you get up and walk to the other bed in the room.

Mud has curled up next to Tenko’s legs, wagging his tail when you approach.

“Good boy,” you whisper, petting him. “Always looking out.”

You lean in to kiss Tenko’s temple and giggle when he scrunches up his nose.

“Goodnight my little baby,” you whisper to him. “Sleep well and have the sweetest dreams.”

He doesn’t wake this time and you’re just as proud of him as you’re a little sad. You like when he wakes up and curls into your hold, but he’s had a long, tiring day.

“Tomorrow we’ll have fun,” you promise him.

The door to the other bedroom is open. Hitoshi’s bed is empty.

“He’s in the bathroom, I think,” Koki mutters from his bed. “Aizawa-san said goodnight already.”

“I know he did,” you settle by his bed. “But I still want to say goodnight too. How was your day?”

“It was good,” Koki admits quietly.

You reach out for his face, wait until he nods to give you permission to touch him before you brush your thumb over his cheek and the scars around his mouth.

He likes when you do it, though he’s not yet brave enough to ask for your touch. You push back his hair next, tuck it behind his ear and just sit with him for a while, breathing together.

“You’re tucking your emotions behind your ribs,” you point out quietly. “You can let them out, you know? It’s safe here.”

Koki shakes his head.

“I don’t want to.”

“That’s okay,” you smile down at him. “Sometimes it’s scary to admit to your emotions. But when you’re ready to, I’m here for you. Because you know,” you tap your temple, “I already see them. And they’re not scary to me, so they don’t have to be scary to you.”

He sniffs quietly. “But what if they don’t come true?”

“Ah,” you nod and brush your thumb over his temple. “Sometimes they only come true when we tell them.”

Quiet, barely audible, he mutters: “I want to stay here with you.”

You smile. “Then I’ll make sure that happens. But now,” you lean down to press a kiss to his temple. “Now it’s time for you to sleep, okay? I’ll sit with you until you’re ready.”

Koki nods and curls into your touch, one hand circled around your wrist.

He flinches awake once more when Hitoshi steps back into the room, though he settles when Hitoshi sends him a wave and settles into his bed as well.

Only when you’re sure that Koki sleeps do you get up and settle on Hitoshi’s bed.

“It was nice of you to come over,” you tell him. “Did you sit with Shouta?”

“Yeah,” Hitoshi nods. “I thought you might need some time with him.” He nods in Koki’s direction. “So you’re keeping him?”

“He’s not a pet,” you tell him off. “But yes. He needs a place to stay and he deserves all the love he can get.”

Hitoshi smiles. “If you want more kids you’ll need to get a bigger house.”

“I think,” you admit, “I think four kids, five cats, one dog, one husband and a ton of weird uncles is enough.”

Hitoshi smiles. “Don’t forget the grandparents,” he reminds you. “How many have we got now? I stopped counting at three.”

You pinch his cheek. “Don’t be a smartass,” you chide him. “And go to bed. Your jetlag is not going to get cured if you keep staying up.”

Hitoshi smirks. “Are you going to stay by my side until I fall asleep.”

“Yes,” you tell him and make it sound like a threat. “You’ve got a problem with that?”

Shouta’s asleep when you step into your bedroom, though he wakes the moment you open the wardrobe to pull out your sleepwear.

“Why do I feel like I’ve pavloved you with that sound?” You ask when he blinks back at you.

“Because the sound of the wardrobe door means I can watch you change,” he admits with a smirk. “I’m never fixing that door. That creaking sound is my alarm clock.”

“You’re weird.”

“You love me,” he points out, throwing a hand over his face, though not covering his eyes. “Are the kids asleep?”

“Most of them. Hitoshi pretended to be so I’d leave.”

“Sneaky bugger.”

“He gets it from you,” you tell him pointedly, closing the wardrobe door again and slipping into bed.

You lean in to kiss Shouta, sighing against his lips when you hear the sound of an annoyed cat on the other side of the bedroom door.

“Can’t we just ignore them?” You ask, curling into him. “Pretend we only have one cat? I’m pretty sure that’s Pumpkin.”

“Uhuh,” Shouta disagrees. “There’s only one cat that gets annoyed when we close the door on her. That’s most definitely Banana.”

You huff and slip out of bed again, opening the door. He’s right. It’s Banana.

“In my next life,” you tell Shouta and climb onto him before Banana can take the space, smirking when he grunts under your weight, “I’ll get myself a snake. And then I’ll marry a man who loves mice. Problem solved.

“In your next life,” Shouta mutters into your shoulder, “you’ll meet Hitoshi at fourteen years old and it will change your life forever.”

“Sounds a lot like my current life.”

He smirks. “Good. I’ll count on him to guide me to you.”

“Sap.”

“You love me.”

“That,” you admit freely. “That I do.”

Notes:

I grew up in Foster Care. This story is very important to me, for more reasons than one. I hope you can enjoy it and all the twists and turns it takes. Have fun reading.

Series this work belongs to:

← Previous Work Part 2 of Foster Homes Universe

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Akilissa on Chapter 1 Sun 01 Jun 2025 03:36PM UTC

my HEARTTTT I love Shinso sm and I love how you write him!!

Last Edited Sun 01 Jun 2025 03:37PM UTC

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1. Fogfire on Chapter 1 Tue 17 Jun 2025 07:59PM UTC
  
  I love him so much in this too!!!
  
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1. Fogfire on Chapter 1 Sat 26 Jul 2025 07:45PM UTC
  
  Oh really? Tell me more! I love talking about thoughts
  
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  2. 1. Fogfire on Chapter 1 Sat 26 Jul 2025 08:47PM UTC
      
      No I don't sorry. But I have tumblr and tiktok or we can chat via the comments if you want?
      
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      2. Fogfire on Chapter 1 Sun 27 Jul 2025 03:55AM UTC
        
        https://www.tumblr.com/dira333
        
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luv_koya on Chapter 2 Sun 27 Apr 2025 01:34PM UTC

I really enjoyed the story this far and I love the way you write stories💕

Last Edited Sun 27 Apr 2025 01:35PM UTC

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1. Fogfire on Chapter 2 Tue 17 Jun 2025 08:05PM UTC
  
  awww, thank you!
  
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Vixteen on Chapter 3 Sun 27 Apr 2025 10:25PM UTC

im so invested into this story helpp

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1. Fogfire on Chapter 3 Tue 17 Jun 2025 08:05PM UTC
  
  I can't, sorry, I'm the same!
  
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LevyAmbroseMcGarden on Chapter 3 Tue 29 Apr 2025 02:43AM UTC

I'm very excited to see how this story goes. Thank you for sharing it with us ✨💕🤞🏽

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1. Fogfire on Chapter 3 Tue 29 Apr 2025 04:26AM UTC
  
  Oh, thank you! I am excited to share it with you
  
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LovelyOuterSpaceGhost on Chapter 3 Fri 23 May 2025 04:50PM UTC

💜💜💜💜

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1. Fogfire on Chapter 3 Tue 17 Jun 2025 08:00PM UTC
  
  thank you. purple is very fitting
  
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Redandraven88 on Chapter 4 Mon 05 May 2025 07:48PM UTC

😱 That's not good!! I hope he will be ok!!

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Nonamed_girl on Chapter 6 Mon 12 May 2025 03:10PM UTC

This story is great!

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1. Fogfire on Chapter 6 Tue 17 Jun 2025 08:02PM UTC
  
  thank you so much!
  
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revinorau on Chapter 6 Fri 16 May 2025 03:08PM UTC

I'm having so much fun reading this pls don't ever stop, the moment I've had your notification for this update it instantly made my day <3 thank u for being on ao3

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1. Fogfire on Chapter 6 Tue 17 Jun 2025 08:01PM UTC
  
  awww, thank you. the story is finished so all I have to do is remember to upload the chapters
  
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MonryeOnTheMoon on Chapter 8 Sun 25 May 2025 11:06PM UTC

If we don't find out who Aizawa is on a date with, I might explode (LOVE THIS FIC!! <3 <3 <3)

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1. Fogfire on Chapter 8 Thu 29 May 2025 04:08PM UTC
  
  I'm not sure we'll find out who miss Autumn Hair is, but don't worry, it's not going to last
  
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Lunaspark2001 on Chapter 8 Mon 26 May 2025 04:05AM UTC

IM SO INVESTED IN EVERYTHINGSJHEBDJHEBEJJE I LOOK FORWARD TO THE NEXT UPDATE

Last Edited Mon 26 May 2025 04:05AM UTC

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1. Fogfire on Chapter 8 Thu 29 May 2025 04:08PM UTC
  
  so happy to have you here!
  
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MonryeOnTheMoon on Chapter 10 Mon 16 Jun 2025 06:13AM UTC

I wish I could give kudos a trillion times- your writing is so good!!

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1. Fogfire on Chapter 10 Tue 17 Jun 2025 07:56PM UTC
  
  aww, thank you so much!
  
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intothemultifandom on Chapter 10 Tue 17 Jun 2025 08:41AM UTC

i dont know how the war ended & so im taking a delusional gamble & predicting its baby tenko unwinded 🫣🤣 but in all seriousness tho! i absolutely love this story! the way you characterise the reader & her relationships with everyone around her is chefs kiss 😤

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1. Fogfire on Chapter 10 Tue 17 Jun 2025 07:56PM UTC
  
  Aww, thank you!
  I did base this off all the stuff and hypothesis I read, though I have to admit I haven't watched or read this far yet. I've just barely met Mirio in the show, so you know how far I've come
  
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Akilissa on Chapter 11 Fri 20 Jun 2025 03:34PM UTC

“Neito,” Monoma tells him pointedly. “Call me Neito. I’m your other best friend now.”
AWHHDEACJLNKLA hes such a cutie I loved this chapter and im excited to see more monoma x shinsou friendship <333

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1. Fogfire on Chapter 11 Mon 23 Jun 2025 10:00PM UTC
  
  Thank you for pointing out one of my favorite moments!!!!
  
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AnAuthorYouSay on Chapter 12 Mon 23 Jun 2025 06:05PM UTC

I love this chapter <3
(I love all of them)

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1. Fogfire on Chapter 12 Mon 23 Jun 2025 06:37PM UTC
  
  Thank you so much!
  
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Akilissa on Chapter 12 Mon 23 Jun 2025 09:04PM UTC

“If I had to guess there’s someone else you like. Someone whose opinion of you is so important to you that you don’t dare to confess, or even think about it in that context. Being vulnerable is risky.”
oh..?? OH???

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1. Fogfire on Chapter 12 Mon 23 Jun 2025 10:00PM UTC
  
  Someone noticed it 🥰
  
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intothemultifandom on Chapter 12 Mon 23 Jun 2025 09:36PM UTC

i love this story so much 😭

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1. Fogfire on Chapter 12 Mon 23 Jun 2025 10:00PM UTC
  
  Me too!!!
  
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penislord001 on Chapter 12 Mon 23 Jun 2025 10:55PM UTC

i love this!!

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1. Fogfire on Chapter 12 Sun 13 Jul 2025 06:07AM UTC
  
  thank you!
  
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revinorau on Chapter 12 Thu 26 Jun 2025 05:51PM UTC

TYSMMM FOR UPLOADING

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revinorau on Chapter 13 Tue 01 Jul 2025 05:52PM UTC

aww this is so precious, thank you for updating!!

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1. Fogfire on Chapter 13 Thu 03 Jul 2025 07:09AM UTC
  
  Thank you for reading!
  
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Akilissa on Chapter 1 Sun 01 Jun 2025 03:36PM UTC

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Nonamed_girl on Chapter 6 Mon 12 May 2025 03:10PM UTC

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MonryeOnTheMoon on Chapter 8 Sun 25 May 2025 11:06PM UTC