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The fact that Aizawa’s and Mic’s guest room was genuinely nicer than Hitoshi’s room at home was ridiculous.
They lived in a modern apartment, built with the higher ceilings most people had started to prefer when wings came into the picture. And large windows to let in plenty of light. Their guest room was warm and bright, with enough vertical space for Hitoshi to stretch his wings straight up and still not brush the ceiling. They were on the top floor of the building too, and the view of the city from above felt right .
At home, his room was in the basement. Almost always cold and dark, with only a single lamp to light his space. The house his father owned was old, built back in the pre-quirk era. No one liked cramped basements anymore, which Hitoshi supposed made one the perfect place to put the child you never wanted to see. It made him feel trapped. Claustrophobic, even. He hadn’t realized how used he’d gotten to feeling that way until he found himself standing in a nicer room. The feeling of freedom was almost overwhelming.
Of course it made sense that two heroes working multiple jobs could afford a far nicer place than Hitoshi’s father. One more modern and better adapted to the era they lived in. But he couldn’t help wishing he’d had a space like this before. It might have made being unable to fly just a little less miserable if he could have been high up like this.
What was also ridiculous was the sheer amount of blankets and pillows in the room. The ones on the bed were fine, but the closet was full of them too. What guest needed that many blankets? It almost made Hitoshi want to build himself a little nest, but he was not going to do that in his teachers’ house. Who builds a nest in a guest room anyway?
He ended up appeasing the urge by sitting in the corner on a single blanket, clutching a pillow to his chest and wrapping himself in his own wings. He stayed like that most of the morning, browsing on his phone until someone knocked at the door.
“Shinso? Want any lunch?” Mic asked.
(And what was Mic’s actual name? He must have said it at some point, but Hitoshi couldn’t remember it. Aizawa called him ‘Hizashi’ at home, but Hitoshi was fairly sure that was Mic’s first name and he was not using that! How did he not know his own teacher’s last name?)
“...Sure,” Hitoshi agreed after a long moment, because he was starving.
Mic opened the door cautiously, carrying two plates with sandwiches on them. He placed one next to Hitoshi.
“You don’t have any allergies do you? I just didn’t wanna make myself food and not give you anything. If you don’t like anything on there feel free to take it off” Mic said.
And then for some reason the hero sat down on the floor next to Hitoshi’s sad little blanket corner.
Hitoshi was not a picky eater by any means, so he put his pillow down and took the sandwich without even checking what was in it. It tasted perfectly fine. Still better than the cheap packaged stuff he usually ate. As far as he was concerned it was the best sandwich ever. They ate in silence for a moment, Mic’s wings twitching anxiously before he finally decided to say what was bothering him.
“You can use the other blankets and stuff, ya know. If you want” Mic offered.
“It’s fine, this is your guest room. I’m used to this anyway” Hitoshi insisted.
His basement had always been too uncomfortable to build a nest in, and his father would never have let Hitoshi in the bedroom where he kept his own. So whenever Hitoshi was home alone he’d settle into a corner of the living room just like he was now, with the one blanket and pillow he had.
Mic frowned, “You didn’t have a proper nest? That won’t do at all. Come with me, little listener”
He stood up, grabbing both now empty plates and waited for Hitoshi to join him. Once the younger boy had stood, he made his way out of the room and Hitoshi followed.
Their first stop was the kitchen, to drop the plates in the sink and, at Mic’s insistence, drink something. Hearing Present Mic say “Hydrate or Diedrate” had not been something Hitoshi ever expected from his life, and that memory was going to haunt him forever.
Then they moved into the living room, where Mic practically herded Hitoshi into the nest they apparently had out there. Hitoshi hadn’t even known people put them in living rooms. His father never had. Mic proceeded to fret over how things were arranged around Hitoshi.
“Isn’t this much better?” Mic asked once he was satisfied with the setup.
It was. It was soft, and Hitoshi couldn’t feel the hard floor beneath at all. And it felt safe in a way he never really had. But suddenly he couldn’t find the words to express that, so he just curled his wings around himself and nodded.
Mic frowned again, and Hitoshi didn’t even get the chance to wonder if something was wrong before the hero started preening his wings.
(And seriously. What was Mic’s name? This was the first person to preen him and he couldn’t even remember his name! He couldn’t just ask now!)
Hitoshi tensed slightly, unused to the sensation, and Mic froze for a moment.
“Sorry, listener. I should have asked first. Do you want me to stop?” Mic asked.
Hitoshi shook his head furiously. It had been soothing. If anything he wanted more. But again, his words were missing. He tried to say something, anything, but all he let out was a sad chirping sound.
He wasn’t entirely sure what it meant, but it felt desperate. Needy.
Mic seemed to get it though, because he nodded and went back to preening Hitoshi’s right wing. Smoothing out any tousled feathers, and gently freeing all the pin feathers Hitoshi hadn’t been able to reach. Hitoshi stretched the wing out further, giving access to harder to reach feathers. A content silence fell between them for a while as Hitoshi struggled to process just how comfortable he felt. It was new. It was overwhelming.
As Mic switched to Hitoshi’s other wing, Aizawa walked in the door. He took one look and didn’t even hesitate to join them, flopping down face first into the nest with his wings spread wide.
“I handled all the paperwork” he said, his voice muffled by the blankets.
“And?” Mic prodded.
“That man is going to jail. CPS checked the place out. The kid lived in the basement ” Aizawa growled, lifting his head to look at Hitoshi.
“What? He’d better be in jail then. I dragged Shinso out here because he was nesting on a single blanket in the bedroom. Said he was used to it” Mic added, a sharpness in his voice Hitoshi had never heard before.
“Sorry” Hitoshi muttered, unsure of what else to say. They were upset because of his situation, and he wasn’t really sure what to do about that.
“It’s not your fault. But you shouldn’t be used to it. And we should have noticed sooner” Aizawa sighed.
“You’ve only known me for like a week,” Hitoshi pointed out.
“ I’ve known you since the start of the school year! I should have noticed something was up when I realized you didn’t move them at all throughout the day!” Mic pointed out miserably.
“Nobody ever noticed my wings before” Hitoshi tried to assure them.
That only seemed to make it worse. Even Aizawa was frowning.
“Someone should have,” Aizawa said, uncharacteristically soft.
“I don’t blame you! I thought it was fine until yesterday! I can’t even figure out what Mic-sensei’s name is!” Hitoshi admitted desperately.
His face turned bright red and he tried to hide behind his own wing. He hadn’t meant to confess that. He’d been hoping to pick it up from somewhere quietly and take that secret to his grave.
Mic burst out laughing at that.
“I never actually use it at work, that’s not surprising!” Mic managed between fits of laughter, “Hizashi Yamada. And no need to call me sensei at home”
“But-”
“Don’t fight him. He’s relentless. If he wants to keep you then we’re keeping you. He got me in high school. Latched on and never let go” Aizawa sighed.
“That’s not how it works! And what about you?” Hitoshi tried again.
This place was nice. And he was so comfortable right now. But he couldn’t just move into their apartment .
“I could stop him if I really wanted to. But I don’t. And that is how it works when you’re two pro heroes and teachers. Who’s going to tell us we’re unfit to parent?” Aizawa said, putting his face back down in the blankets.
Hitoshi felt himself starting to tear up. They would really do all of this for him? He was so used to being ignored. Left behind as the world moved on. But these two were here doing everything they could to make the world move for him. It was the kindest thing anyone had ever done for him. It was terrifying. It was amazing. It was a million different things all whirling through his brain, colors and shapes he couldn’t quite comprehend.
Yamada sat up straighter, his hands leaving Hitoshi’s wing.
“That’s gotta feel so much better” he declared, admiring his handiwork.
Hitoshi didn’t even need to look to know he was right. The constant itching was gone. And his wings felt clean. All he really needed now was a nice shower. But that could wait because this only made his tears start to fall.
Aizawa’s head didn’t move from where his face was buried in the blankets. But he lifted one wing, a silent invitation. Hitoshi wasn’t sure how to respond for a moment, but Yamada nudged him towards it so he slowly crawled over and laid down, letting Aizawa drape the wing over him like a blanket.
And this quickly became the new most comfortable he’d ever been. It was warm and enclosed in a good way. He felt safe under there. He instinctively nestled deeper into the blankets, the comfort lulling him into sleepiness even as the tears rolled down his face.
He had no arguments left. If they wanted him to stay and live like this forever, he would.