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The apartment door opened with a soft creak, Hizashi entering slowly as if convinced that Shota was already asleep.
He wasn’t.
Shota was crouched in the shadows behind the sofa, muscles taut, breathing still. His right hand was clutching a jagged piece of glass, its edges biting into his palm. Normally he wasn’t even trusted to handle a spoon, but Hizashi had grown careless over the last couple of weeks. No sedatives, no restraints and, most astonishingly, a forgotten glass bottle left in the living room despite Hizashi‘s usual preference for plastic. A stroke of luck in a desperate situation.
Hizashi entered the living room, but the lights remained off. Shota held his breath, his husbands’ footsteps were slowly moving to the other end of the room. One chance. If he blew it, he might not get another. He had spent months studying every centimetre of his glorified prison, every creak in the floor, every uneven board, every gap between pieces of furniture. It all led to this moment. He may be weakened but above it all his determination burned. Determination to get out, to get away and set things right.
The lamp on the couch side table flickered on, providing the distraction needed. He tried to activate his quirk out of habit, only for nothing to happen. His stomach twisted at the reminder that Erasure would never be his to use again. Quirk or not, he would win this battle.
His movements were quick and precise after years of underground hero work. Hizashi caught the motion out of the corner of his eyes, his own combat instincts kicking in. He dodged and retaliated as expected, Shota sidestepped when the inevitable blow came for his left side.
‘Got you.’
Hizashi’s favouring of his right side had been his downfall in many of their sparring matches, dating all the way back to their school days and Shota wasn’t as surprised as he should have been that his traitorous husband had yet to learn better. Hizashi relied much more on his quirk than actual hand to hand combat and wasn’t nearly as used to beating up thugs as Shota was. Point for the underground heroes.
He swept the blonde’s legs out under him as the other shifted his weight, feeling a vindictive sort of glee when he grabbed Hizashi’s right arm, twisting it behind the villain’s back as he flipped him over and settled atop his now captive. His makeshift weapon drove into flesh, not life threatening but serving its purpose. Hizashi’s shriek rang in his ears as he thrashed beneath him. Shota rammed an elbow into his back for his trouble, then he used his full weight to press the other man to the ground.
“Fuck, Sho, if you wanted me on my back all you had to do was ask!“ The blonde tried to joke, then yelped when Shota yanked the shard out of his shoulder, blood dripping on the floor as he pressed it to the other male’s neck.
“And if I wanted you dead all I‘d have to do is slit your throat.” Shota muttered, his voice cold as ice. “So I suggest you don’t move before I decide you’re too much trouble.”
Hizashi let out something like a dry chuckle while Shota scanned the room to find something, anything, to bind his captive’s arms together. If only he had his capture weapon… he should have prepared something earlier.
“Sho come on! Is this really necessary?” Hizashi complained, as if this was another silly argument and Shota wanted to prove he was right. Shota cursed to himself when the former hero turned his head to look at him. Suicidal fool. One slip and he’d bleed out right here on their carpet. “You really don’t wanna do that! We can talk this over without you having a knife at my throat. Kinda kills the mood to be honest.” His husband flashed a carefree grin at him as if there wasn’t a weapon about to dig into his jugular. Did he seriously not comprehend the weight of the situation?
“And what…” Shota growled, “makes you think I have anything left to say to you?”
Hizashi offered a crooked, almost sheepish smile. “Well… I’m still alive, aren’t I? You don’t really hesitate on the job, even if it comes to this. Killing, I mean. So why not slit my throat and be done with it?”
Shota’s eyes narrowed and his grip tightened, pressing the glass harder against the other’s neck. Why indeed. He should just get it over with. It would be so easy, swift and silent. Hizashi was right, he had done it many times before, even if he found no joy in it.
So why did his hand not move? Instead, he glared at him.
“What the hell is your game?!” He hissed dangerously, gripping the shard even tighter and ignoring the stinging pain. For the first time in years his hand was trembling.
Hizashi’s smile softened, his body relaxing and making Shota’s stomach twist. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep you forever. You were always better at this than me, so it was only a matter of time until this happened.” Hizashi explained, almost matter-of-fact and yet reassuring. “Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t try anything sooner.”
The former underground hero scowled at the almost playful tone. A few months ago, Shota would have melted at this. Even now his heart was racing as he looked at his best friend turned high school sweetheart turned husband turned...
Enemy.
That brought him back to reality. The shard dug deeper into Hizashi’s flesh, drawing blood at last.
“You really think I’m bluffing? Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.” Shota snarled, though dread knotted in his gut. Could he really end the life of his friend and lover of over a decade and pretend none of their time together mattered? The answer was no. As much as he hated it and as much as it defied all logic, he couldn’t do it.
He really had only two options remaining.
Kill him or let him live for now but make sure he couldn’t interfere with his escape.
He could tie him up, gag him and stuff him into a closet for a bit. Hizashi had always sucked at escape simulations back when they were students, once stalling his whole team for 15 minutes because he couldn’t pick his cuffs. Eventually the other league members or his parents would notice his absence and come check if he didn’t manage to free himself by then.
In the meantime, Shota could find his students, make sure they were safe, find allies, deal with Hizashi later, find out about All For One’s next plans, gain information about his operation system, deal with Hizashi later, protect civilians, find other heroes to exchange ideas with and deal with Hizashi later.
‘God damn it…’
He pulled the shard away from the blonde man’s throat just for a split second, his grip loosening. Hizashi reacted instantly, turning the tables on him. Shota hit the floor hard, flipped and pinned by the villain who proceeded to wrestle Shota’s arm behind his back before digging his knee into his spine. The shard was wrenched out of Shota’s grasp and thrown away. He felt blood drip from his palm, he must have cut himself. Shota cursed himself for hesitating. Of course, Hizashi would notice the moment his concentration broke.
Hizashi grabbed his hair and forced his head down on the floor. “I’m sorry…”, he whispered, voice shaking. “But we need to talk and I can’t have you endanger yourself or me.” Shota felt Hizashi shift, fumbling for something in his clothes, followed by the prick of a needle. The sedative worked quickly, not rendering him unconscious but disoriented. A thick, almost comforting, numbness spread through his body, his head filling itself with cotton.
A familiar exhausted sigh could be heard from above him.
Hizashi released him and got up to inspect his shoulder, wincing at the stab wound, but instead of tending to it, he knelt next to Shota. He helped him sit, then stand, his face showing concern, as he gently guided the hero out of their living room, down the hallway and towards the bedroom. Shota wanted to resist, to protest, but the drug overpowered his senses. Hizashi laid him on the bed, blood still dripping from his shoulder.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, love.” Hizashi murmured with a forced chuckle before he looked at Aizawa. “Let’s take care of you first, then we talk.”
Shota’s jaw clenched and he said nothing, glaring at the ceiling and refusing to make eye contact. Nothing set Hizashi off quite like ignoring his presence. There was a flicker of hurt for a second, but the other man said nothing, leaving the room to fetch the first aid kit.
Meanwhile Shota was seething. He blew his one and (possibly) only chance at escape for foolish sentiment. If he had the strength, he would have punched something. He could hear Hizashi shuffling around, before the other finally returned. Shota instinctively tried to pull away when Hizashi grabbed his arm, his face a scowl but Hizashi hushed him. “Shhh, I know, I’m sorry, I know how much you hate this but you leave me no choice. Don’t worry, I’m not mad. I know you’re hurting. Everything is gonna be okay…” Hizashi’s voice was quiet and soft, the complete opposite to his usual loud and boisterous character. Sometimes Shota wondered if that too, had been a lie.
A stinging pain in his hand made him flinch, Hizashi gently applying pressure with a piece of gauze to stop the bleeding. “Can you move your fingers? Any other injuries or pain elsewhere?”
At first Shota hesitated, then he shook his head. Hizashi looked relieved for a moment and continued to tend to the wound. “You know, I wasn’t sure if you’d really kill me or not. Guess you sparing me means there is hope for us yet, huh?”
Shota wanted to protest, claim it meant nothing but instead flinched again when the other hero-, no the villain, began cleaning his wound, the smell of the antiseptic hitting his nostrils. Hizashi either didn’t notice or chose not to comment on it. Knowing him, it was the latter.
“You were lucky, you know? Somehow you didn’t get any glass in there.” Hizashi mumbled, cradling Shota’s sliced palm and seemingly talking more to himself than Shota, but then paused, giving the other a chance to reply.
Only silence followed. Another disappointed sigh.
“Still don’t want to talk to me, huh? I guess I deserve that. Still hurts, won’t lie.”
This finally made Shota look at him, his eyes burning with unrestrained fury. It hurt him? What was he supposed to say? His fucking husband, the love of his life backstabbed him and their friends and allies after Hizashi had spent all this time with him, friends, colleagues and students, fought villains, protected civilians and students alike. It had all been a damn lie!
He still remembered the USJ incident and the way the loud mouth had reacted to seeing Shota’s half-conscious, battered body when arriving. No smile, no jokes and no trace of his usual casual demeanour. Only a sneer, a quiet “tsk” as he stepped towards the villains and took them down, followed by fussing over Shota at the hospital. Back then the former underground hero had chalked Hizashi’s excessive fussing up to feeling guilty for not being there during the initial attack and he had been right in a way. It had been guilt, but for a whole other reason. The villains only showed up because Hizashi had tipped them off, unaware that Shota would be there instead of All Might.
He flinched as Hizashi released his hand, obviously finished with his rudimentary medical care, then the blond peeled off his own jacket and shirt to tend to his shoulder. Shota remained quiet, arms crossed.
Finally, he forced out words. “Are you really going to pretend that everything is fine? Do you ever even think about what the others are going through? Nemuri? Our colleagues? Our students?!
Hizashi tensed, just the barest hint, most people would miss it, not looking at him. “They are fine. The kiddos are still secured and Midoriya recovered. All For One-”
“That creep sees Midoriya as a trophy, son or not. He’s treating him like a possession and he keeps him like one too! It’s only a matter of time until he breaks him down to a shell of his former self. Maybe not through pain but we both know there are plenty of other ways.”
Hizashi said nothing, but his eyes still not meeting Shota’s told him everything he needed to know.
Shota pressed on. “Midoriya is just 17, a kid, damn it. He doesn’t deserve any of this bullshit. And you know it’s not just the heroes. All For One is going for civilians too, for children.”
Hizashi swallowed hard, his eyes still not meeting Shota’s accusing stare. “Look, the important thing is that he’s safe and so are the other students. As for the heroes-”
“Yes, I’m sure they are thrilled to be at the re-education camps.” Shota mocked, his voice rising. “Must be just like summer camp.”
“It’s better than death.” Hizashi countered, voice tense. “I’m not saying it’s perfect but at least they live! Sho, we had this conversation before-”
Again the hero refused to back down and interrupted. “And yet you still don’t get it, you don’t see what the hell you helped unleash! You don’t grasp the consequences of your actions! For fucks sake, he let villains like Dabi keep heroes for their own damn entertainment! Like they are pets and yet you still think All For One wants to fix anything?!” His anger rose with each sentence spoken, his frustration boiling over.
Hizashi’s expression darkened, their eyes finally meeting. “Hawks is fine, if that’s what you’re getting at. Although he should really learn to keep his mouth shut.” Well, wasn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?
“Fine.” Shota echoed flatly. “Keep telling yourself that.”
“I ain’t saying that All For One is some god who can fix everything but you can’t deny hero society was fucked up-”
“Yes, it was. You don’t have to remind me for the hundredth time.”
Hizashi paused mid-motion, seemingly frustrated now. “All For One is-“
“A monster.” Shota cut him off yet again. “He takes and takes and takes until there’s nothing left for him to own! To control and monitor as he sees fit. You’ve seen it. He couldn’t give any less of a damn about anyone but himself. I thought you were smarter than this, but instead you’re blindly following a megalomaniacal monster while he leads us all to our doom. And don’t you deny it.”
The silence between them stretched, only interrupted by the howling of the wind outside and rhythmic ticking of the clock which could be heard from the living room. Hizashi focused on wrapping up his shoulder, flinching at the pain. Shota resisted the urge to reach out and help. After what seemed like forever Hizashi looked up. “It’s what I’ve been prepared to do since I was a kid, Sho.” He whispered. “I’ve made my choice and I regret nothing.”
‘Liar.’ Shota thought immediately, surprising himself with the intensity of his conviction. But there was no doubt in his mind.
Hizashi finished bandaging his wound and began to pack up the first aid kit. He still didn’t look at Shota, probably in fear of the other man looking right through him. “I don’t want to fight with you. I get it, you’re not wrong, Shota. But this is how things are now and I won’t let you get hurt or killed because you’re stubborn. If I have to chain you down or drug you and make you hate me, then so be it. It’s for your own good… at least…” His voice broke towards the end, the unspoken words lingering between them.
“For my own good?!” Shota’s voice almost cracked, raw and vulnerable. “You sold us out, Hizashi! You sold them out! A bunch of kids. Our kids.”
Hizashi stilled then he kept packing with trembling hands. After a few moments he spoke up again. “I know that. I didn’t mean for them to go through this pain. Yeah, what I did was selfish and maybe it makes me a coward. But I don’t care anymore. You’re safe, you’re alive, so it was worth it. I’ve already lost Oboro, I can’t lose you too.”
Shota’s shook his head and rolled his eyes. This again, the same stupid excuse.
Oboro had died, so Shota had to call Hizashi after every mission and text regularly when undercover.
Oboro had died as a student so maybe Shota applying to teach at a hero school wasn’t a good idea even though Hizashi himself was a teacher.
Oboro had died so Shota should maybe not be a hero if it put him in too much danger!
Because Hizashi couldn’t take more of this. Because Hizashi couldn’t handle losing more people. Shota had thought it was sweet at some point, the worry of his then-lover making a fond feeling rise in his chest. To know someone would always be there for him, look out for him, care whether or not Shota came home. But all that had turned to ash when the underground hero had realised what Hizashi really was. That all this time, all the kind words had been nothing but a ploy to alleviate the other’s guilt as Hizashi was betraying him.
“You already lost me.” He said quietly.
Hizashi flinched as if struck, almost dropping the first aid kit. Another tense silence took over, this time interrupted by the meows of their cats, Sushi and Wasabi, demanding dinner. The blonde’s back was turned to him, hiding his expression as he began to change into some grey sweatpants and a red T-shirt. “We should cool down a bit. We can talk tomorrow. I’ll go feed the little monsters and get dinner started, you rest. Do me a favour and don’t try anything? I know you could even in this state if you put your mind to it, but you probably would end up hurting yourself more.” His voice was shaky again. He didn’t wait for an answer, grabbed the first aid kit and left. As quickly as the anger came to Shota it left him again, until only exhaustion remained.
Why did he even bother? His husband was as stubborn as a mule and always had been. Even when cornered he always dug his heels in deeper. Hell, Hizashi had edited a stupid Wikipedia article once just to win an argument!
But what did Shota expect? After all, Hizashi’s parents had raised him for villainy since birth and prepared him to infiltrate the heroes. Of course he wouldn’t drop everything just for love.
Shota had wondered if he should have seen it coming.
He recalled all the times me met Hizashi’s parents. He remembered warm smiles, laughter, dinner invitations and staying with the Yamadas over the summer break while his parents were overseas. Mrs. Yamada stuffing them with foods and treats, Mr. Yamada driving them to town and picking them up for the outings Hizashi dragged them to. Sometimes they would take him along to family gatherings like he belonged there, with them, even back then. Villains weren’t supposed to look like that. They weren’t supposed to show up at your wedding, weren’t supposed to hug you and treat you like family. They weren’t supposed to attend a hero student’s funeral and comfort his parents.
Looking back on it, it shouldn’t have been a surprise. Villains were people, they could have loved ones and families and yet it never occurred to him that they could lead a double life this effectively. Not that it mattered any more.
The attack on UA was a vivid memory despite the chaos. The security protocols had shut down, then the security bots turned against them and cut the teachers off from the students, making it impossible to evacuate them. Instead, the class representatives had to try to get their classmates out of danger, but they didn’t get far. While the teachers were occupied, the villains went for the students.
At this point they still assumed a hacker had done it or that the security had been compromised from the outside. They hadn’t realised the person responsible had been right there, among them. Shota had been too caught up in worries for his class and his trust in Hizashi had blinded him. Turning his back to the blonde for just a moment had been his undoing.
He still wasn’t sure whether Hizashi’s apparent conflict was genuine or just another carefully crafted attempt at manipulation. If it was the former there might still be chance to convince him.
‘But how the hell do I make him listen…’
For now, he had no answer.
By now the smell of food drifted in from the kitchen and there was a radio playing some jingle in the background.
Twenty restless minutes later, Hizashi returned with two bowls of steaming Oyakodon. Shota’s stomach grumbled. “I can eat by myself…” He immediately insisted but the other man shook his head.
“I know you can, but you’re in a very fragile state right now.”
“And whose fault would that be?!”
“Sho, all I’m saying is that if you spill this all over yourself, I doubt you’ll be able to clean yourself and your clothes by yourself afterwards. So either you let me help you now or you are forcing me to help you later… with changing, cleaning yourself up, clean your clothes…” Hizashi trailed off, letting Shota fill in the gaps.
He picked up a spoonful of rice and egg and held it towards Shota’s mouth, watching him carefully. For a moment neither of them moved until the former hero sneered. “You drug me, you chain me up, lock me up and now you want to play nurse.”
“I’m not playing anything. I’m taking care of you because I love you even if you wanna punch me in my face in right now.”
Shota carefully considered his predicament. Unfortunately the loudmouth had a point. After several tense seconds he reluctantly accepted the food. He knew it wasn’t drugged, Hizashi wasn’t that evil. Even so, he felt miserable as he did so. Hizashi frowned and sighed in defeat after only one bite.
“Wait here.” He ordered like Shota had a choice and left the room, then returned with a bed tray they got a few years back. He put it down over Shota’s legs, then placed the bowl on it and handed him the spoon. “No stabbing me, alright?”
He didn’t say another word, he didn’t have to. Shota was grateful either way. Maybe it was just a small thing but to him it meant a bit of true autonomy. Eating took forever, but he managed. Hizashi had always been an amazing cook, doing most of the work in home economics class while Shota could barely fry an egg, The taste of the simple but familiar dish was comforting and a stab to his broken heart at the same time. They ate in uncomfortable silence. Once they were done, Hizashi grabbed both bowls and left to clean them. Finally, Shota allowed the tears to fall.
The next morning Shota awoke alone. He couldn’t recall whether Hizashi had slept beside him or moved to the sofa as he often seemed to do lately. A biting chemical taste filling his mouth, a side effect of the sedative. Hizashi was still in the apartment, a kettle whistled in the kitchen. The smell of food was another dead give-away that he must be preparing breakfast. With a sigh, he looked down. No chains, no restraints. Surprising.
After some initial struggle he finally managed to get to his feet and leave the bedroom. He crossed the hallway and approached the kitchen. Hizashi’s voice was loudly ringing through their hallway, at first Shota thought someone was with him but then he realised the other man must be on the phone. He stopped just out of sight to listen.
“No, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. Just really busy.” Hizashi heaved a heavy sigh. “Okay, yes fine. It’s just…a lot going on right now. Work and… Shota…”
Shota tensed up. He could picture Hizashi pacing up and down, playing with a hair strand like he always did when he was nervous.
“Of course he isn’t. And I feel awful. I know we’ve been working for this for so long but now that we did it, it feels… hollow? I don’t even know what to call it…”
Another pause, Hizashi took a deep breath, then the footsteps stopped.
“No, I couldn’t… I could never do this to him. It’s just really complicated right now. He-” He got cut off, something that wasn’t easy to do. When he spoke up again, he sounded exhausted and frustrated, but not angry at whomever was on the other end of the line.
“No, seriously, don’t…no. I just… want him to be happy, you know?”
Was this a trick? Genuine? Hizashi sounded so tired, vulnerable. Even more so than yesterday. Shota found himself leaning closer, eyes narrowed. The pacing picked up again but slower, there was a thoughtful tone now. Hizashi was probably running a hand through his hair as well.
“Yeah… thanks. I know it can’t be helped but I wanna make it as easy as possible for him…” The blonde trailed off, humming as he listened to the other person.
“…Yes, yes, I won’t. Right. Thanks mom. Tell dad I said hi, okay? And yes, I promise I’ll drop by soon and I will call you again tomorrow. Love ya, bye.”
He hung up.
Shota immediately backtracked a bit and then made his steps louder as he entered the kitchen, pretending to have just arrived. Hizashi wore a T-Shirt, boxers and his hair was pulled back into a messy half bun.
Fuck the villain and his good looks.
“Morning.” He grumbled.
Hizashi immediately turned around, his smile a bit too wide and tense to be natural. “Sho, You’re up! And so early too!” His voice was booming, dropping and dripping with false cheer. “You look pale. Come on, sit.” He ordered, pulling out a chair for him.
Shota automatically did as he was told. Curse this body and his marriage cultivated need to follow someone else’s instructions in his weak moments. Mornings. Always those damn mornings. To his dismay, there was no coffee, Hizashi poured tea instead. His husband immediately noticed the grumpy man’s disapproval. “I figured some tea would be a good change. Unless you really want coffee? I can brew a batch, no trouble.” He suggested, voice warm.
Aizawa tensed up for a moment, guard immediately up. “… It’s fine. I’ll drink whatever.”
Hizashi nodded and grabbed his own mug, sipping tea and smiling at him. “Hope you’re in the mood for something more traditional. We had rice leftovers, so I made miso soup, grilled fish, Tamagoyaki and some pickled vegetables. Pick whatever you like! I wasn’t sure whether your stomach would be upset with all the medication since you felt super sick last time and all that… so… yeah…!”
Of course he’d be rambling and of course he’d also try to make up for their argument through food. Hizashi had always been a giver, doing most of the house chores while Shota had been responsible for the financial aspects and making most of the decisions regarding groceries, shopping, medical appointments and so on. His husband always showed he cared through gifts or something simple as making lavish meals.
“… I’ll eat whatever.” He finally mumbled, also taking a sip of his tea.
He could hear the cats’ meows in the other room, probably arguing over the arm chair spot. Hizashi put down the breakfast in front of him, then he sat down as well. Both ate in silence until Shota spoke up.
“You didn’t tie me down. You’re getting careless.”
“Didn’t know you were into being tied down so much~” Hizashi laughed, but Shota didn’t take the bait.
“You gave me that bottle on purpose, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I did.” The easy admission threw him for a loop for just a moment.
“Why?”
“Because I wanted you to have options again.” Hizashi put down his cup, looking serious now. “I knew you’d do something stupid. I knew you’d fight this new order no matter what. But I was selfish. I didn’t want you to walk to your death so I locked you up. So you are safe, but I know you’re miserable. I just couldn’t justify... this anymore. You deserve to have your autonomy and you made the choice not to kill me and stay. So…what does that mean for us?”
Aizawa stared at him, looking for a hint of insincerity. He found none. Despite his spy work Hizashi had never been the greatest liar and even if some might fall for it, Aizawa never did. “I could have killed you last night too. In your sleep. Maybe I will tonight.”
“If you wanted to kill me, I’d be dead already.” Hizashi countered, his smile a mix of confidence and gentle optimism. “You had plenty of chances, Sho.”
Aizawa’s grip on the mug tightened. “Maybe I’m waiting for a better one. You’re an idiot if you think I won’t do anything just because it’s you.”
This time he got a nonchalant shrug. “I’m your idiot then. I’m pretty sure you won’t do it and if you do, I’m happy it’s you.”
‘Damn him.’
His eye twitched, irritation rising. “I almost killed you yesterday with that shard.”
The other man raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, silently challenging him but there was a playful tone to it. “But your heart wasn’t entirely in on it, was it? Otherwise, I wouldn’t have gotten off so easily. Maybe next time.”
Shota didn’t know how to respond to this because he wasn’t wrong. He was good at lying and bullshitting. Had to be for his job, but Hizashi usually saw right through him. Even back when they were still teenagers at UA.
Instead of speaking up he continued eating. It felt oddly domestic, almost like they were back to normal. Before All For One took over, before Hizashi revealed himself as a villain. Just the two of them, their cats and hero work.
Once they were done with breakfast, Hizashi put everything away and turned towards him. “So what are you in the mood for?”
“TV, I guess.” Shota grunted, already settling on the sofa
As predicted Sushi had conquered the armchair, so Wasabi chose his lap to rest on instead. He could hear Hizashi move about before sitting down next to him.
Shota raised an eyebrow, scowling slightly. “No work today?”
“Nope, I’m all yours today. Wanna watch anything specific?”
“Don’t care.”
Usually, Hizashi picked what they watched. Why change that now? His husband said nothing as he turned on the TV, then switched to some J-Drama. Shota had never liked those, Hizashi on the other hand loved them so they had made a game out of watching them together. Shota would point out everything that was stupid, cliché or pointless while Hizashi defended it all passionately. Perhaps this was the blonde’s way of trying to bring some sense of normalcy back.
As usual Shota kept his distance, petting Wasabi who purred on his lap, content with everything. How much he envied the cats. In their stupid fuzzy heads nothing had changed, the world was still the same to them. The apartment had always been their whole world and now it was Shota’s world too. That made him change his mind immediately. Maybe he didn’t envy the cats after all. He wasn’t willing to accept this new reality, not yet. And he would be damned if he gave up now.
He looked over at Hizashi, thinking about what he had just been told. Hizashi locked him up and yet he gave him the chance to kill him, to run away. There was no way he could have predicted that he’d be spared and yet he did it. During dinner yesterday he got that bed tray and let Shota eat by himself. He gave him small options over the day as well. Coffee or tea? What to do? Which program to watch?
Hizashi had even implied there might be a next time where he’d have to make the choice whether to stay or go. To leave their shared life behind him. And at this point, Shota could almost believe that Hizashi meant what he said. That Hizashi hadn’t been playing him, but had been genuine. That he actually still was his caring, loud-mouthed, protective if sometimes a bit overzealous husband. After all, this man had handed him his own life just so Shota would feel better… so maybe… just maybe… they could fix this still. Maybe Shota could trust him enough again and Hizashi would finally listen to his conscience. Maybe the other would finally make his own choices too and not what his villainous background demanded of him.
He recoiled when he felt a familiar warmth against his shoulder. It took him a moment to realise that he had leaned against Hizashi, the domestic bliss of the moment easily made him fall into old patterns. The other man seemed surprised at first but then gave him a sad smile, conveying understanding with no words spoken.
Shota forced his eyes towards the TV screen again while also making sure to put more distance between them. Even if there was hope, a slim chance of getting through to Hizashi, he would not let his judgement be clouded by love again. For now, he could lay low and play house. And when the time was right, he would show All For One that the heroes might be beaten down, but they were not defeated.